#the way that sisters vode gave her the name Sister

[kingtuna]

WHY DID I JUST NOW LEARN THAT THWRE IS A CANONICAL TRANS FEMALE CLONE TROOPER??

a CANONICAL trans clone

RAHAHHANDBWJDBCIOWNSJ

also this ties beautifully back to my post about the clones and gender

Sister's vode accepting her without a thought and the jedi encouraging her

just

QHGXJSJNXKSMNZJA

this is so important

how come I didn't know this sooner?

this is such a huge thing, to have her canonically exist

I don't have the words

[harrylee94]

The Tournament - Chapter 7

You can find this on AO3!

Summary: "There is one name I noticed that I didn't recognise."

"Oh?"

"They didn't give a name, only a title."

"And what title did this mysterious knight give?"

"You'll find out soon enough, they'll be taking the first joust."

Notes: And so, it begins...

Chapter 6

——————————————————————

“Welcome, brothers, sisters, vode, ade all, to the Protector's Tournament!" - Din

A cheer rose up as arrows thunked into their targets, all of them landing in the great straw circles, but only a small handful hit the red centre. Several of the contestants -- amature archers mostly, but also a young hunter or two -- deflated at being knocked out of the round, but the other contenders all gave them cheerful congratulations and support as they left the arena.

Din had always enjoyed the archery competitions over the jousts and melee rounds; there was less chance of an injury, and the contestants were almost always supportive of each other, no matter where they came from. He’d also noted that they usually tended to gather together after and the winner would share his wisdom, how they would all share their knowledge, especially to the younger archers. It was the perfect example of ba'jur -- education -- one of the Resol'nare and a cornerstone for their culture.

The fact that it was the lower born that showed this more than the nobles made him despair for what had happened to his people.

The archers had moved back into position, their new targets set another ten feet back, and the crowds cried their support of the three remaining contestants.

"Arrows ready!"

Their arrows were selected, each of them painted in differing colours along the shafts to distinguish each for their own.

"Draw!"

Muscles strained and bow strings were pulled taught.

"Loose!"

Three arrows sailed through the air, three arrows hit their targets, one arrow hit it's mark.

The roar that exploded from the crowd as the winner raised his bow in victory brought a smile to Din's face. It grew into a grin when the winner was mobbed by the other competitors and raised onto their shoulders to make a lap of the grounds.

This was what a tournament should be.

He looked forward to giving the winner his prize, but that would have to wait until the end of the day. For now though, the jousting was to take place, and the lists were being set up by the carpenters as quickly as they could.

"Now the real contest can begin," came Lord Suum’anar from beside him, the man somehow managing to have gained the seat for the morning.

"I would argue that the contest is already over for some," Din replied as the winner was set down so he could hug his family. There was a large reward for the archery contest, and he had no doubt that it would make a huge difference to him and his family for the foreseeable future. His thoughts also turned, briefly, to Veryn, but he shooed them away to focus on the carpenters.

"So true, my Prince," the Lord said. "But this measley contest was merely the warm up for the greater Tournament. So much hinges on the results of these bouts after all."

Din hummed his agreement. "Your son is one of the last to be competing today, is he not?"

"He is, my Prince!" There was a noticeable pride in his eyes. "His name was drawn late, but I'm sure he will do well against his opponents."

"He has shown great skill in the past," Din said in lieu of an agreement. He did not want to show any favouritism after all.

"What are your thoughts on the other competitors?" Lord Suum’anar asked after a few moments of quiet, the archery winner having moved out into the crowd now to celebrate and leaving the rest to chat amongst themselves as the ground was raked for the horses. "There are quite some number of them."

"That there are," Din agreed. "Most of the Clans and Houses have put someone forward, two in some cases, but there is one name I noticed that I didn't recognise."

"Oh?"

Din smirked. Clearly Lord Suum’anar had been more focused on his son than he had been his competition. "They didn't give a name, only a title."

"And what title did this mysterious knight give?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Din replied. "They'll be taking the first joust."

The man raised an eyebrow, an expression that read somewhere between frustrated and intrigued. They would not have long to wait though, as the carpenters had finished and were already leaving the list field, and Greef Karga was stepping up to the front of the platform on which they were sat.

Slowly, the crowd noticed the man as he held his hand up for silence, and the chatter died.

"Welcome, brothers, sisters, vode, ade all, to the Protector's Tournament!" the man cried, bringing a cheer to the stands. "We must congratulate Beryn once again for winning the archery competition!" The cheer grew for a few seconds before dying down again at Greef's wave. "He'll be getting his reward at the end of the day, but first! I'm sure we need something to keep you entertained while you wait."

Din chuckled at the way his mother's friend led the crowd, his natural flair making this nerve-wracking affair more a joy to watch than the show filled with dread he was expecting it to be.

"Is he always like this?" Lord Suum'anar asked, unamused.

"Only when it's needed," Din replied, leaning away from him to better concentrate on the announcement.

"Our first joust will begin shortly, but who would like to meet our contestants?" Greef asked when the crowd had calmed, only to send it roaring again. "Our first contestant, some of you may know! She travelled all the way from Corellia on her own, just for this Tournament! From Clan Hearhawk, we welcome Ser Papyon!”

A mounted knight rode out onto the list field from Din’s left, her squires following quickly to stand next to the prepared rack of lances as she circled the list, showing off her shining armour and the caparison draped over her horse, the embroidered green hawks soaring over a field of yellow, the birds taking flight on her shield as well. She eventually brought her horse to a stop before Din and bowed stiffly, ease of movement difficult with the armour and helmet she wore. Her horse did tug at their reins and shuffle in place a bit with nerves, but she quickly pulled it under control, though one of the squires had to come over to hold it still.

“And now for our second contestant!” Greef said, and Din couldn’t help but lean forwards in anticipation. “Now, my dear vode, while it is my job to know who each of our contestants are, I can honestly say that this contender is a complete mystery. No one knows where they’re from, what clan or house they are a part of, or even their name. All we know is that they are known as… the Krayt Dragon!”

The crowd cheered as the Krayt Dragon rode onto the field from Din’s right, a little slower than Ser Papyon had. Unlike her, this knight arrived completely alone, no squires to help with the lances or anyone to hold their horse’s reins, just a horse and their rider making their way around the list. The caparison on the horse was a plain light brown -- though whether that was on purpose or simply the colour of the fabric before dying was indeterminable -- and the armour the they wore looked like a jigsaw of mismatched parts compared to Ser Papyon’s, but the design of a red wyrm curled its way up and around it, ending with an open maw on the sides of the Krayt Dragon’s helm, their shield emblazoned with the long, lithe shape as well.

As they brought his horse to a stop next to Ser Papyon’s the steed barely flinched, standing still and calm beneath its rider, who bowed just as stiffly as their foe.

Din rose from his seat and stepped forward, hand on his sword -- as it usually was now since the attack -- as Greef moved to the side.

“Ser Papyon, Krayt Dragon, you enter this Trial willingly, knowing the risks,” he said, looking between them. “You will only aim at your opponent’s shield. The joust will only continue until all lances are spent, one of you has been unseated, or one of you yields for any reason. Once the joust is complete, a melee round will occur if both of you are able. Blunted swords only. You will fight until your opponent yields or can no longer compete. If you break any of these rules, you will be disqualified. Am I understood?”

“Yes, my Prince,” Ser Papyon said.

The Krayt Dragon simply bowed in silence.

Din nodded, though the wordless reply unnerved him slightly. “To your positions.”

The pair bowed again and steered their horses to opposite ends of the field, the Corellian knight accepting her first lance from a squire while the Dragon Knight had to ride up to the rack to retrieve theirs. When at last they lined up at the lists, Din raised his voice.

“Begin.”

The horses pawed at the ground, huffing and shifting in place before, as one, they charged. The lances were held high, pointing to the sky until the last second, where they lowered for a controlled, well aimed strike. Ser Papyon’s lance glanced off the shield, but the Krayt Dragon’s shattered, a direct hit that left Ser Papyon straining to keep herself in the saddle. The crowd roared as they collected their next lances, one of Papyon’s squires having run to the other side of the field to offer her the next while another gave the Krayt Dragon theirs.

The second tilt ended with a stalemate, neither of them getting a straight hit, but the third ended in a spectacular shower of splinters, both lances shattering on impact. In an incredible show of horsemanship, the Krayt Dragon was still seated, but Ser Papyon was not. Din was impressed.

“One point to Ser Papyon, and Three points to the Krayt Dragon!” Greef declared as Ser Papyon was helped to her feet. “Ser Papyon, are you fit to continue?”

The knight rolled her shoulders before nodding. “I am fit!”

Greef nodded. “Then the melee round shall begin when both contestants are armed!”

The Krayt Dragon carefully steered their horse clear of the splinters that now littered the ground before dismounting, taking the time to make sure the horse was well before leaving it tied to the lance rack. Din took note of how gentle and respectful they were to the animal, and he found himself beginning to like this stranger, even routing for them a little.

But then the contestants stood before him again, this time facing each other. A squire approached Ser Papyon, sword held out for her to take, but the Krayt Dragon had theirs strapped to their side, and it was drawn as Ser Papyon drew hers.

Having taken his seat during the jousts, he leaned forwards, safe in the knowledge that Saruk would defend him and his magic would warn him of danger should it come. The Krayt Dragon had shown their skill in the joust, but what of the sword?

The pair sized each other up, starting to circle one another. Din could see that Ser Papyon was holding herself a little awkwardly, no doubt having sustained an injury from her fall, but she was the first to move, bringing her blade up in an underhanded swing. The Krayt Dragon redirected the swing to the side and, much to both Papyon and Din’s surprise, stepped in close, using the pommel off their sword and their elbow to force the knight back. As she stumbled, the mystery contender followed, Using her unbalance to push her back further and further as they swung a flurry of attacks which she barely managed to block -- overhead, underhand, jab, jab, sideways, up, down -- until they hit the back of her gauntleted hand hard enough to send the blade flying.

The knight tried to follow her sword, but the Krayt Dragon had not stopped their advance, and they swept her feet from under her with a quick swipe of their leg. Their sword was at Ser Papyon’s throat a moment later, hovering just high enough to threaten at the slits in her visor too.

“Yield! I yield!”

There was a confused murmur amongst the stands for a few moments, but then someone started to applaud, and soon enough, like a wave, it took over the crowd.

Din had never seen any knight fight like that before, and he certainly hadn’t been expecting the melee to be quite so short, but he couldn’t deny that he was thoroughly impressed.

As he rose from his seat, he was surprised further -- an pleased -- when he watched the stranger help Ser Papyon to her feet and even retrieved her sword for her, handing it back to her with a quick nod.

“Well fought,” he said as the noise died down. “Ser Papyon, though you have lost, you fought well today. I am honoured to have witnessed your skill.” The knight seemed to stumble for a moment, but then bowed her thanks. He turned to the mystery contender. “Krayt Dragon, your skills with both horse and blade have shone through this day. You shall advance to the next round. For today, rest and prepare, your Trials continue on the morrow.”

The Krayt Dragon bowed, fist over their heart in a salute.

Yes, Din would watch their progress with great interest.

——————————————————————

Mando’a Translations:

Resol'nare -- the Six Actions are the central tenets of Mandalorian life; Education and Armour, Self-defence, our tribe, Our language and our leader

Vode -- brothers/sisters

Ade -- children

Colour meanings:

Green -- Duty

Yellow -- Remembrance

Light brown/Tan -- Loyalty

Red -- Honouring a parent/leader

Chapter 8

[brothers-all]

Vod’ika 20

Hey everyone! We made it - this is the last chapter! I've got to say, despite how short it was, it was a great ride. I seriously loved writing these shots, exploring the relationships and reading all of your reactions. It was awesome.

I wanted to make this one longer, but somehow, being this short felt more appropriate? I dunno, maybe that's my exhaustion talking... Anyway, read, review and enjoy~

When she left, she never imagined she'd seen him – or any of them – again. And she had no idea what they'd actually look like after so long. But that didn't matter. The moment he stepped forward – despite having no real idea how he'd look like – she knew it was him. And she hadn't been so happy in quite a while.

"Commander," he smiled, hands behind his back and she was in shock for a few seconds. Both of them felt like it was back in the old days, of the war. But she made the first move forward, keeping her composure.

"You got old," he said as she stopped in front of him and it was him. He looked so much older, but the voice, the eyes and the body language – it was all the same. She could only laugh – talk about getting old…

"Had to happen sometime Rex," it's been a long time, since she's used his name. And it was still as familiar as ever. And he smiled along. It's been a long time since he's heard her voice at all and… she sounded so much more mature.

And then, she only hesitated for a second, before hugging the man. It was different than she remembered – she was taller than him now and reached him more easily. But he wasn't as tense as back then – maybe shocked. And he was yeah – surprised if nothing else. But it didn't take long for him to get over it.

"I'm glad you're still alive," and he was, really. Another good part of the war that survived. Their Commander, their vod'ika, or more now, their vod.

"You too," she pulled back, smiling. She didn't think they were still alive – not with the accelerated aging. But here he was…

"Well, I wouldn't be if it weren't for these guys," he motioned to the Ghost Crew behind them, who had all remained silent.

"Thank you, for trusting my friend," she knew how hard it must have been for Kanan, but he pulled through. And she'd be grateful for that.

"It wasn't easy," Kanan admitted, giving a small laugh. "…It's still not," he added, eyes downcast.

"Nothing worth doing ever is," she knew that very well. She only hoped that they would get along.

"Ahsoka, brought some caf," Rex entered the small meditation room she had set up, the smell of caf filling the place.

"You didn't put anything in it, did you?" she grinned, turning around to look at him as he offered the drink.

"Heh, I'm a few years late to get you back for the prank war," the soldier laughed, sitting on the bed as he took a sip.

"…I wish we could have done it more…" she held the mug, looking at her own reflection in it and recalled how she used to look like. Just how much she's changed…

"Most of the boys will remember it for a long time," his own tone grew weaker as he looked at her.

"…How many of you are there even? How much do you even have?" Ahsoka looked up, eyes guilty and sorrowful. "My greatest regret was and still is, that none of you got to live your lives. And, with the few years you have left-!"

"Ahsoka," Rex stopped her, giving a smile. "Deep breathes," he reminded her and she nodded, focusing on breathing.

"There ya go…" he laughed as she calmed down, finally drinking her caf. "Which one do you want me to answer first?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"…Whichever one you want."

"…" he hesitated, before letting out a sigh. "You shouldn't blame yourself for us," he started off. "Living a normal life… That was hardly ever in our minds during the war. But if it eases you any, I did get to live it – sort of," he grinned at her surprised expression. "Myself, Wolffe and Gregor all went together and stayed on Seelos, living in an old Republic tank, slinging for Joopas," he laughed, shaking his head.

"Wolffe made it?" she blurred out, a surprised smile on her face.

"Yeah, a few others as well, though I don't know where they went."

"I'm surprised Cody didn't join you," at her words, he froze, fingers only twitching. And she naturally noticed. "…Rex?" there was concern in her voice.

"…Cody – Cody stayed," his voice was heavy and distant, eyes glued to the mug. "From what I've been told, he's with the Empire, teaching the new recruits…"

"Oh, Rex, I'm so sorry," she had no words really. What was she supposed to even say? Cody was one of Rex's closest brothers. And to have him join the Empire – she didn't even want to think about facing any of her vode.

"…He made his choice," was the only answer as Rex still didn't look up. "I just hope he's not regretting it."

"...What have you been up to?" she asked, just to change the subject.

"And that was the first time in a long while since I've heard Wolffe actually howl," Rex laughed as Ahsoka put a hand over her mouth, trying not to spit the caf out. She had moved to sit next to him as he retold of how the Ghost Crew helped them out.

"I always thought that was just a rumor or something," she admitted, leaning on the wall.

"Hah, the Wolfpack had the most rumors out of all of us – many were just too scared to really ask about it," the soldier admitted, setting the empty mug down.

"Master Plo never said anything about it either," she mused before both of them shared a look. One fearful, the other guilty.

"Rex… Do – Do you know, what happened to him?" her voice was weak as she sat properly, and he averted his eyes.

"…I just know what they said were lies…" he answered weakly. "Wolffe – he nearly lost it. I don't even want to imagine what he'd do if he knew the truth… Of what we did-,"

"Rex, that wasn't you," she reached out, putting a hand on his forearm, feeling him shake. "You didn't do it. You couldn't have stopped it."

"I could have!" he closed his eyes, clenching his fists but didn't pull away. "Fives – he was right. And if I had just – just acted sooner. Then maybe-," he cut himself off, putting one hand over his face, but the tears still fell.

"It still would have happened," she whispered, squeezing his arm. "This was their plan for years, Rex…" Ahsoka herself was feeling the sting in her eyes now.

"I just feel like I let everyone down… My brothers, the General, the people… Especially Fives…" and it was then that she pulled the man into a hug, burying her face into his armor. Just like usually… Only this time, she was the one comforting him, not the other way around.

"Fives would be glad right now… His death saved you and in turn, you saved others… From what I've learned from you all, that's what you all want," she said quietly, feeling him still in shock, before awkwardly hugging her back.

"Thank you, vod'ika…" he mumbled back weakly, just happy to have something familiar right now. Even if it was different than what he remembers…

"Anytime vod," she said back as they stayed in the hug, both finally really accepting the other was there, alive and well.

Outside the room, Ezra was about to knock, when he heard the last few bits. He felt bad, not wanting to eavesdrop or anything, but he got way too curios. The last bit had him confused though, but he left. He could always ask later…

"Hey, Kanan?" Bridger asked, walking into the small dining room.

"Yes?" Jarrus was just finishing up a meal, with Sabine cleaning her blasters next to him.

"Are Ahsoka and Rex a couple or something?" he asked, making the older man almost choke on the meal and the Mandalorian pause.

"What? Why would you think that?" Kanan couldn't really wrap his head around it.

"Well… I um…" Ezra looked away, cursing himself for not getting a better plan.

"You were listening in on their private conversation?!"

"By accident, I swear!" the kid threw his arms up in defense. "But, like, they called each other vodka and vod or something? And I got… curios…" he mumbled, embarrassed.

"…Vod and Vod'ika?" Sabine asked, blinking at the boy.

"Yeah, that. How'd you know?"

"Oh, Ezra," she laughed, as the two Force Users gave her puzzled looks. "Those are Mandalorian words – I guess it shouldn't be a surprise, coming from officers from the Clone Wars…" she added as an afterthought.

"What makes it so funny then?" Bridger was still confused.

"Well, 'vod' means brother or sister, and 'vod'ika' is a little or younger brother or sister. They aren't a couple – they're an aliit. A family," she smiled as she explained and the other two shared a look.

Cut! Yeah, I ended in Rebels. Fight me. It felt right in any case, to kinda bring it full circle. And I really wanted to see some more of those two bonding on that or any episode. If you wanna get a job done, you gotto do it yourself, right?

ANYWAY! Thank you all so much for sticking with me through this story and I really hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! You're all awesome and hope to see you in any of my future stories! Till then, may the force be with you~

[beviinshukla-blog]

Chapter I - Part One

Bes'laar B’akaan Just outside Mandalore’s orbit 0732 - 24 BTC

It was all happening again.  The fire, the noises, the pain, it was all repeating inside of his mind, playing against the darkness of his eyelids.  Yellow mixed with orange, light flared in his vision, heat washed over him as his body erupted into agony.  No pain in the galaxy, however, could match the feeling of despair as he turned to see his wife’s broken body.  He didn’t even have to check her pulse, to look, he just knew.  Motionless, red shining off the plates of her armor in the firelight.  This was it.  This was the end.

Luraine…

Colyen’s eyes snapped open and he sprang from his bed, sitting bolt upright as he looked around frantically.  The harsh glare of artificial light caused him to squeeze his eyes shut once more, red shining through his lids as he adjusted his sight.  It was then the familiar pain crashed down on him like a wave, causing his head to throb and the man laid back down with a groan.

“You di’kut, you move like that again and you’ll mess up the dressings.”  It took Colyen several moments to recompose himself, and more to adjust to the lighting in the room, but finally he opened his eyes and took in his surroundings.  Metal… he was surrounded by it as the rough walls of a ship stood around him.  Medical supplies sat on a table, some still covered in red as the cloth underneath refused to absorb all of the substance.  Slowly turning his head some more he saw another man sitting in a chair next to the bed, wearing his full set of beskar’gam save the helmet.  The older Mandalorian looked down on him in both exasperation and concern.

“Colyen… don’t tell me you can’t talk.”  It took the young man a few moments to reply.

“I-” As soon as he opened his mouth pain erupted up the right side of his face and he grimaced, shutting it immediately.  He squeezed his eyes shut and could barely focus on the voice - a new one - speaking from the other side of the room.

“Ya took a hard hit, ner vod.”  Colyen turned to this new voice to see yet another man wearing full plated armor, though he only had on leg plates and boots.  His entire upper body was only covered by a simple shirt, which was stained red.  This man turned toward him.  “If Rezko hadn’t reached ya sooner, you’d be part of the manda by now.”  Colyen turned to the man sitting next to him.  Rezko gave him a short nod, leaning back into his chair.

“I’m amazed you were even still alive,” Rezko stated, crossing his arms.  “Dragged yer shebs all the way past the barrier, though don't give me all the credit.  Ard'ika here helped, ‘cause you ain't a light vod."  A child stepped forward wearing no armor and Colyen recognized Ardum, Rezko's son.  He stared for a moment as he attempted to catch his sluggish mind up on all the details before turning to the last Mandalorian who he now saw was Unohted, the only man in Clan Shukla who could use a knife to not only maim, but to heal.

"The... Fight..." Every word was a struggle as his jaw refused to work properly, pain building in the side of his face every time it moved.  "Lur...aine..."  There was a heavy silence as he spoke his wife's name, and the two older warriors shared a glance before Rezko turned toward Colyen.

"Colyen... You know.  You saw."  The statement was so simple, and yet… it carried such a heavy burden with it.  Colyen’s eyes closed tight for several long moments, and the rest of the Mandalorians respectively kept their silence, honoring their fallen sister as she became a part of the manda.  After a lengthy tribute, Rezko spoke once more, breaking the silence.

“I hate to be the one who says it, but… It wasn’t only her.  We… all lost someone.”  The warrior struggled to find the right words, but Unohted stepped in.

“Coly’ika, your vode who are on this ship… We are all that’s left of Clan Shukla.”  Finding out about his wife had hurt, but this… This was almost too much.  This tore at his soul, punctured his lungs, left him breathless as he stared up at the bulkhead of the ship.  His brother… his parents… his wife… his daughter…

Quite suddenly, a piercing cry came from the other room, a high pitched scream that made Colyen’s blood go cold.  As the crying lowered in volume, he took several heavy breaths as he began to recognize the noises and made to move from the bed, understanding why he had reacted the way he did.  Rezko moved first, forcing Colyen back into the bed before turning toward Ardum.

“Ard’ika, tend to her.”  The small boy gave a nod, but before he could move Colyen shoved Rezko’s hand away and leaned up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“Me…”  He growled, slowly pushing himself to his feet despite the pain and sluggish response of his body.  Ardum looked up toward his father, concerned, but Rezko merely gave a small shake of his head and watched the struggling young man.  Injured and broken, Colyen managed to get to his feet and slowly began to take one step after the other, each movement intensifying the burning in his legs, his chest, his jaw, the jarring motions making it feel as if every attempt to move closer to the room the cries emitted from would be his last.

Yet, he struggled on.

There was one moment as Colyen’s right leg gave out from under him and he fell clumsily to one knee, the bone impacting against the deck painfully.  Letting out a grunt of pain, he remained motionless, summoning the will and the strength to continue on.  He received no help from the others - Unohted, Rezko, and Ardum only watched, their eyes fixed on the young Mandalorian as slowly, but surely, he pushed himself to his feet with extreme effort, his legs shaking as he found his balance.  Then, as he grew closer and closer to the room, so too did his efforts pick up at a determined and almost desperate pace, passing the doorframe and finally making it to the bedside of the child.

Reaching into the crib, the large hands of the man closed gently on his daughter, whom only moments before he had believed to be dead.  Losing everything… losing so much was lessened as he gazed down on her small form, pulling her closely to his chest.  The three Mandalorians outside approached the room, Ardum staring in wonder while Rezko and Unohted watched the scene with new respect in their eyes.  

“We found Bev’ika unharmed inside your home,” Unohted explained, crossing his arms.  “She… was all that was left.”  Colyen nodded slowly, limping to a nearby chair and falling into it with a wince.  All of his focus was on his daughter, and the others let him be, exiting the room to leave him in peace.