#vor entye ad'ika

[sofasoap]

Scarring heart

Pairing : Din Djarin x f!reader. 

Summary: Din explains himself. And offers you a solution.  Sequel to Interlude : Fracturing heart 

Slightly AU-ish, Din didn’t get N1 after Razor Crest got blown up.he got something similar. 

Warning : Mature theme. strong languages.  All mando’a are from the translator, soooooo might be full of mistakes. And the timeline might be a bit funky. It's AU. just… roll with it. 

English isn’t my first language, so I apologise for any mistakes. 

A/N:

For my sweet @groguspicklejar and @deakyjoe. sorry.I seriously did not expect this to turn into a multi-part story. Originally it was going to be one-shot.. But every time I get to the end of a chapter my brain goes “ BAH, let’s go for angst end and cliffhanger, so everyone can suffer! ( including myself )”

MASTERLIST for the previous stories in this multi-part fic.

Seeing your own younger face, without scars on the puck, you knew who set the bounty on you. Why do they want you now? After all these years?

You stumbled back, hyperventilating. You KNEW IT. You shouldn’t have trusted him. He tried to gain your trust first, letting your guard down, and seizing the opportunity to take you back to them.

TO YOUR BIOLOGICAL FAMILY. “NO, NO. I AM NOT BACK THERE. I KNEW THIS IS TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE.” Tears started running down your face. You can feel panic attacks start to set in. He is cunning. He is a bounty hunter. Bounty hunters should never be trusted.

“Mesh’la .. let me explain,” Din reaches out and tries to grab you. “GET AWAY FROM ME!” screaming out loud as you swat his arm away. RUN RUN RUN, your brain tells you, get away from him. You kept on backing away from him, until your leg gave out, and curled up into a ball on the ground, sobbing away. 

Hearing all the commotions,  Peli walked out from the office, and hurried by your side as soon as she saw your distraught state. Kneeling down, she slowly rubs your back. “ What is all the fuss about, Mando, why are you back here already?” seeing the puck, her eyes went wide.“ You are NOT taking her away, MANDO.” she growled while shielding you with her body, and reaching for the blaster.

“I am sorry just… just let me explain first. I mean no harm, I am not here to take her away..” putting the puck and fob away, he raised his hands, offering peace. “ WELL YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE.” Peli berated Din. Turning around and pulling you up gently, leading you to sit down on the crate. “ Shhh.. It’s ok. Peli is here. Well, Mando,” Giving him a side glance, “ Are you going to explain yourself???” His head turns slightly, looking down at your trembling form, with your face buried in your hand. Dank Farrik. He cursed himself. Great job Din Djarin, you have done it again. WHY can’t you just communicate like a normal person??

Soft cooing sound and a little hand rested on your chest. Feeling of warmth slowly enveloping your body. You forgot the little pea was in your arm. Looking up at your face, he coos again, with a worried expression. “Ni eparavur takisit , ad'ika, Vor entye par gar baatir”  (I apologise , little one, thank you for your care) you whispered to him in Mando’a. You saw Din flinch a bit. Grogu raised his hand,trying to wipe away your tears, you let out a small laugh for his clumsy attempt. Turning to Peli,” Thank you Peli.. sorry to make you worry, Can I please talk to D…Mando alone?” Peli looked at you, glanced at Din again and sighed. You passed Grogu to Peli, he let out a sad coo, not wanting to leave you. 

“Just yell out if he tries anything funny.” Peli threw Din a warning and left the hanger with Grogu, giving you two some privacy. He looks down at you, in silence. You can see from his body language he is nervous, wanting to ask you questions but clearly doesn’t want to upset you any further. 

“ I am sorry Din… I overreacted.” you manage to squeeze out after a while.

He shook his head. “No Mesh’la … I should have explained myself before I showed you the puck.” looking down at the ground, he whispered an apology. 

You stood up from the crate, motioning him with your head to follow. Leading towards the back of the workshop, into your modest size bedroom. Closing the door, turning on the cooling unit, you pour two glasses of water, offer him one after asking him to make himself comfortable on the only chair you have in the room. Sinking down onto your cot, you look down at your glass of water. After a brief silence you began to tell him about yourself. During the course of your travel, Never did Din once ask you about yourself.  He respected your privacy, and in turn, you respected his. “... My family was well known in Naboo. A blue blood family. After the fall of the empire, my parents were eager to establish themselves again, not only in Naboo, but within the upper society of the Core region.”  “ They provided my brother and I with the best education. No expenses spared.’ Din tilted his head. “ They were grooming my brother to be the family successor, while me, as a woman, to be someone’s trophy wife.”  Din clenched his fist tight. “ They were eyeing some Coruscant diplomat family, rich and well connected. The family was interested in me as well, because of my ability in speaking multiple languages.” Din thought back to the time when you were travelling with him, only he realised how you never had problem with communicating with local people on any planet, seems to know all the little facts and customs of people, no matter how obscure they were. Still, that doesn’t explain how you understand, and are able to speak Mando’a. You chuckled. “ I can see the big question mark above your head Din.” he subconsciously raises his hand above his head. “My nanny, who was more of a family to me than my biological parents, was a Mandalorian. Her family managed to escape the great Purge as they were off planet most times, travelling around as traders.” you smiled sadly with the memory of your old nanny. You missed her. She was the only person in the household who treated you with love and respect.

“She taught me Mando’a and told me stories of her youth, the cultures and a bit of the customs.” taking a sip of water, you continue on. “ I really didn’t know about your courting gift Din, maybe it is more of a specific covert thing? But um… the.. The.. keldabe kiss.. “ all of a sudden you went shy. OH MAKER , so you did know the significance of it, Din blushed furiously under his helmet. Fidgeting around again, “ Anyways, um. So back to my family. There was no love. They only used me as a pawn in their scheme, they plan to abandon me after the accident.” your hand went up to your face, lightly tracing your scar. “ That is when I ran away. I couldn’t let them control my life anymore. I went on the run for cycles. Eventually ended up on Coruscant. Where I met you.” you look at him with a tight smile. “I have no idea why they want me now. After all the years of not caring about me or even trying to find me.” Why now? You wondered again. “Words from Karga are that your brother has somehow gambled away a huge lot of the family fortune, and your parents are desperate for an easy way to make money.. So they thought of you, see if they can track you down, and get you married off again for a good bargain. Damaged good or not.” He winced a bit as he added in the last bit. He feels bad describing you like an object. 

Din thought back to the day he went to Nevarro, to pick up a few jobs from the guild, when Karga called him aside into his office. Closing the door, Karga took out a puck and a fob. It was you. Looking slightly younger, and without scar on the face. And also different name were shown. “This came in not long ago, the details are slightly different… but I was pretty certain this was the lady companion that you were travelling with. Before you say anything, I did not show or offer the puck nor fob to anyone else.” he pushes the puck and fob towards Din. “ I think it is best if you handle this… your way.” Karga subtly suggested to Din.

You let out a bitter laugh as you threw your head back. Tears in your eyes. They are just not going to let you go, are they? This scheming, sithspit parents of yours. “Keegan has always been a kraken player. He just couldn’t help himself, can he? I am not surprised he finally tried to steal the family money to feed his problem.” You couldn’t care less what happened to your brother, you would have thought he would be on your side after suffering similar pressure as you growing up, but then again, your parents always favoured your brother, since he was the successor to the family fortune. The one that will carry on and revive the family name. Din put the glass onto the side table, and proceeded to kneel in front of you. He slowly took his gloves off, you gasp at his action.  You have never seen his bare skin before. Even when he was injured, he refused your offer to stitch him up or put bacta spray on him. The most help he would accept was you staying outside the refresher, passing him anything he asked for through the gap of the door. Not even the time he took his helmet off to reveal his face to Grogu, before he departed for his training with Luke, you turned your head away as soon as you heard the hissing sound of pneumatic lock. You know his creed. You respect his creed. Tentatively, he reaches for your hand. You held your hand out to meet his. Slowly running your fingers through each of the scar and calluses, enjoying the first, and rare chance of skin to skin contact he ever had with you. You can feel his hand shiver a bit as you touch him tenderly. “I have a solution, well, probably part of the solution.You might not like it.” you can hear him taking a swallow before proceeding on. “I know you want to take things slowly, and you haven’t totally forgiven me yet…” He leans his helmet into your hand for a few seconds, before looking up again, you can feel his eyes looking at you, even through the dark slit of the visor. “Become my riduur.” 

The beskar head Di'kut finally did it.

I often thought if I had this much will power to write assignments during my university days * sigh * Thank you all for reading! any likes, comments, reblogs always appreciated :D

Taglist:

@frogtits1, @READINGFAN, @memester-png @jake-g-lockley @novaethecosplayer @foxgirl95 @gloryekaterina

[100lxtters]

The green armoured Daimyo

CHAPTER 6 / THE OTHER ARMOURED MAN

!! THIS STORY IS FOR 18+ VIEWING ONLY, MINORS DNI !!

AO3 I Masterlist

Fic masterlist I Prev chap I Next chap

Boba Fett x f!reader 8k words There is a man in similar armour to Boba, you assume he is part of the allies, but there was something sad and distant about him. You want to know more but sadly the war has started, and you’re more worried about Boba Dom! Boba Fett x sub! Reader Chapter warnings : alcohol, dirty talk, slight degradation, teasing/touching denial if that makes sense, face slapping, bratty reader, ass slapping, possessiveness, maybe a little jealousy, finger fucking, soft Boba again because I'm a sucker for it, anxiety again, we going into some non canon compliant stuff now as I didn't like a certain characters fate Mando'a translations: cyar'ika - darling/sweetheart jate - good linibar gar chur ni - need you under me mesh'la - beautiful Vor entye, ad'ika - Thank you, little one vaar'tur - morning

...........................................................

''Boba'' you smile at him, ''you're back.''

He places a hand on your cheek and you lean into it, ''hello, cyar'ika.''

Both of you just staring into each others eyes, smiling at each other. You place a hand on his shoulder and pull yourself closer to him, he smelt like oil and sweat. You imagine 3 days of being in a ship with no real way to clean yourself would've been a nightmare, maker you wish you could drag him into the shower and help clean him, getting to see how beautiful he is under his armour.

Then he leans down and places a kiss onto your lips, pushing your body back into your room and kicking the door shut behind him. You pull him closer as a heavy breath leaves between you two, you feel him smirk as he says against your lips ''miss me?''

''Every second'' you whisper, your cheeks burning up.

''Jate'' he mumbles as he pushes you up against the closet wall, ''linibar gar chur ni, kriff.''

The cool wall hits your back as you pull him fully against you, his hard armour pressing on you. Completely unaware of what he is mumbling to you, you must ask him what language he is at least speaking to you in. His kisses are hard and deep, like he had been waiting days to be back with you, so your kisses match his to keep up.

Kissing deeply as your hand moves from his shoulder onto the back of his neck, feeling his scars run up his neck onto his head. They were almost smooth and seemed to travel quite far down, running your hand slightly over them but then his body stiffens a little against you.

He pulls his mouth back a little, you remove your hand and whisper ''sorry, I-I didn't know... you didn't li-like being touched there.''

''No, no it's fine'' he sighs against your lips, cradling your cheek with his hand and both your eyes shut still. He take a deep breath in and carries on ''I'm just not used to anyone touching me, it's been years since I last fucked anyone, or even did anything sexual until you came along. Especially since what happened to me happened, since my face and body became all fucked up and old.''

You two are a little bit apart now, you open and stare at him with sad eyes and say ''but Boba y-you're... mesh'la'' pretty sure you are pronouncing the word a little wrong. 

He gives you a little smirk and says ''maker, I need to teach you some Mando'a because it's so sexy from your mouth.'' His words make your body burn up, you were trying to comfort him trying to use the language he always uses, Mando'a you think he called it, to help him feel better. Yet he has turned it back to him complimenting you.

You slowly raise a hand up and rest your hand on his cheek, your thumb running over the scar that ran on his nose. His eyes close as you move your hand higher up, soothing the scar from the nose up his forehead. Boba lets out a soft breath, it was like he didn't know fully what to do but just embrace your soft touches.

Then you lean closer and place a gentle kiss against it, feeling him wrap an arm around your waist. ''Vor entye, ad'ika'' he says now so softly. Your heart almost skips a beat, whatever he was saying was clearly kind, why is this man so nice to you? You were just a nobody, and yet he seemed to keep putting this effort and attention into you.

As you pull your head back you watch him open his eyes, his expression was so gentle and relaxed. He stoked your cheek and leaned forward to place a kiss on your forehead.

Boba then holds your hand and pulls you over to your couch, sitting down as you look down at him. He pats his thigh and grabs your waist, pulling you onto his lap, your back pressed against his chest. ''So, did you do much whilst I was away? I'd hate to think you were just sitting around alone'' he asks.

So you inform him about how for the first day you didn't really do much, then on the second day you hung out with Fennec a bit and drank together. Then you told him about your trip out today to Mos Eisley, telling him there were jogan tarts if he wished for one. He said Fennec had commed him to tell him they found their ally, confusing you to why she never told you Boba was back seeing as she knows you would be interested. Or maybe she was doing it so you would be surprised when you got back?

''What about you? Did you find your old ally?'' You ask, wanting to know about his trip in some way.

''No, the leads I had all ran dry. I still don't even know if he is alive or not, I don't think anyone does honestly'' he sounds almost defeated. Because even though Fennec found one of their allies, at the end of the day two allies would've been stronger than one.

''I'm sorry'' you empathise with him, you wondered if this ally was a friend or not.

He places a soft kiss on your neck and shrugs, ''it's okay, it's sadly one of the parts of this business. That's why I'm at the power I am at now, I was sick of seeing hunters die off without anyone caring for them.'' It surprised you that he would be so open and honest with you, he clearly did have a lot of trust in you and did respect your loyalty to him, but you'd only really known him less than a month.

His arms around your waist pull you closer as he places more kisses on your neck, you lean your head back as you say ''well you do suit this power.''

He hums against your neck as he says ''of course you'd think that, you're just a needy girl who wants to get fucked by the king.'' Boba's teeth then nibble into your neck as you let out a slight whimper, ''do you want me to pin you down and claim your slutty holes?''

''P-please'' you moan. An ache between your thighs appearing, missing his touch so badly.

Next thing your body is being pushed from him as he tries to stand up behind you, pushing you to your feet too. He pulls your body around to face him as he cups your face, ''you'll have to wait then, I currently have people waiting for me.'' 

''But-but, please.''

He shakes his head and says ''can't have your king being late because you're needy, can you?''

Your cheeks turn bright red, you had weirdly missed his teasing. This man just making your underwear soaked from small movements and simple words. Just waiting for the day he eventually fucks you.

Boba then kisses you again, quite quickly before he adds ''I'll be back in a few hours, don't worry princess.''

You had waited three days to see him again, you could wait a couple more hours to have him touch you again, right? Just wanting his touch after touching yourself the last few days, needing him to make you cum instead.

Before he leaves he says ''oh, and don't worry about working tonight. You just relax for the rest of the day.'' 

It was a bit of an odd statement, was it because of what happened last time he had guests? Was he worried of something happening again? But also who were these people waiting for him as Fennec made no suggestions earlier that she had meetings later on, could it be to do with the ally?

A couple of hours pass, you make yourself a simple meal, you weren't really hungry but you needed to pass some time and this seemed like an easy way to do so.

As you do you think back to what happened earlier, how you spaced out and was unable to hear Fennec repeating herself over the com. She had told you afterwards she had been trying to reach you for almost 10 minutes, but you were completely out of it. As much as she was sympathetic since she could tell something was up she warned you not to do that again, because she was ready to turn Mos Eisley upside down to find you. Which the idea made you laugh, her being so worried and concerned was nice but also random.

But still, it had been years since you zoned out like that. You were just hoping they both knew what they were doing and by forming this group of allies was helping something. What was the point in getting all these allies anyway?

Was it a form of policing the streets from the Pykes? Or did they know more than they had informed you and that war really was about to kick off?

This all was getting so confusing and moving so quickly. 

You just wanted to spend time and get to know Boba, find out exactly what you two were and just more about him. Yet this whole situation was always in the way.

Guess this is just the joys of being on Tatooine, you think.

Cleaning up the dishes from your dinner you get a message on your datapad from Boba asking you to come to the throne room and to bring the tarts you bought today. A smile appears on your lips as you clean your hands.

You pick up the box with the tarts in and head out your quarters. There was a bit of chatter in the corridors, it was clearly the Mods but they seemed to be on their way to their own quarters or out on patrol. Hoping though this meant the throne room was empty, or at least had no strangers in it.

As you turn a corner something, or more like someone, catches your eyes. Your head shoots to the side and sees a person in all silver shiny Mandalorian armour. Who the kriff was this?

Their helmet was staring directly at you, it was bad enough when Boba did this to you but at least you were sort of getting used to how he looked at you under it. This person however, you had no clue where they could be looking or even how they are looking at you. 

You give them an awkward smile, trying to be polite, but they just turn and head to the garage.

That was rude then!

You just give your head a shake and carry on your walk to the throne room. You don't see anyone else the rest of the way, but as you get closer you hear Fennec's voice softly muffled coming from the room. 

As you walk up the steps you see Fennec pouring herself a drink, Boba sat on the throne and a holo-map of Mos Espa in the middle of the room. You just smile slightly at them both when they turn to you, unsure what to say or do since Boba was the one who beaconed you here.

''Are these the tarts you told me about? I'm starving'' Fennec said coming towards the box. You just nodded and passed her them, a huge smile appeared on her face as she took one out and carried the box with her back to the bar stool. She took a bite and mumbled with her mouth full ''it's been so long since I've had something like this.''

Boba's chuckle from the throne makes your head turn to him. He had his helmet resting on the arm rest, seeming to be polishing it. ''Do you want one, sir?'' You ask him. 

To the side of you Fennec seems to slightly choke on the tart. You both look at her as she says ''I know I said I don't want you two fucking in front of me, but that doesn't mean I'm wanting to deal with the rest of it too. Keep the roleplaying in the bedroom, I beg.''

''Come on Fennec'' Boba chuckles, ''the girls had manners since the first time she came here. She just knows who's in charge and who is her boss at the end of the day.'' You can feel his eyes on you as you see Fennec glare at him, ''plus it's not my fault if she wishes to use titles in other situations.''

Your face is burning, your stomach is turning, why is he talking about this to her so casually? Like sure you had used that title a few times but you never really thought much about it, the only thought really being that he was in charge so he gets a title.

Her eyes land back on you, you're now staring at the ground, eyes popping out your head whilst your whole body was on fire. You felt so embarrassed and they both were staring at you from either side.

''Okay, you're embarrassing the poor girl now Boba, stop it'' Fennec says.

The sound of his spars burn in your ears as he descends from his throne, you don't turn around as he gets closer. His hand rests on your shoulder for a moment as he passes you before heading to the bar counter to grab a tart from the box. Your eyes slowly making their way up his back, staring at the scars that travel up his head.

Then he turns around and you giggle at the sight of the crumbs around his mouth. ''What?'' he asks, a slight smile on his lips while a confused look covers his face.

You move towards him slowly and wipe your thumb next to his lips to clean up the small mess, but he then just shoves the rest of the tart in his mouth, causing more mess. You just shake your head and giggle as you move back, not helping him this time since he was just messing with you. 

He is just staring at you now, his eyes moving from your eyes down your body. You clear your throat to remind him that Fennec was right behind him, but he doesn't seem to care. Moving his body closer to yours, leaning to your ear as he asks ''have you ate yet?'' A confused look on your face as you nod, him then replying ''good girl, want something to drink then?''

''Sure'' you reply softly, feeling him move any hairs off your face as you blush from his use of phrase. His gaze back on you like he was awaiting an answer for what you wanted to drink, but you weren't really sure.

Then he heads over to the bar to start making his own drink, Fennec just sat with this amused and yet kind of annoyed look on her face. In her defence she has stated moments ago she didn't want to be stuck witnessing what you two where, but that was on Boba not you. She then started to give Boba instructions for some drink for you, you just hope it wasn't as strong as the drink you had the other week was, the one that you had the night things really started with Boba.

''Here'' she says handing you the long glass full of pink liquid. You hesitate as you sip it, you didn't want to get drunk tonight so you prayed it wasn't strong.

Thankfully it wasn't. The drink was fruity, there was a bitter taste at the start of each sip but it was quickly covered with the fruitiness. ''It okay?'' Boba asks and you just smile and nod to him. 

Watching him then sip his own drink which smelt like whiskey, you then sit down next to Fennec on the stools. Boba then leans against the bar in front of you both. The three of you just enjoying your drinks together, Fennec taking another tart for herself and humming to herself. Between you all none of you really know what to say, you didn't know what to bring up and talk about.

After a little while Fennec asks Boba about his trip, about what did he do since he didn't find this ally. He told you both about how he basically searched almost half of the Outer Rim but there was not one trace of 'him' or the group he was usually with. Boba informed you a little on this ally, how he was a fellow bounty hunter at one point who also worked for the Empire, and how at one point was a mentor to him but obviously since Boba's fall into the Sarlacc he had no contacts anymore.

He then jokes around about how odd it is that some of the planets he came across either people were shocked to see him still alive or had no clue who he was. Which made sense, he had been gone for five years and was no longer a hunter, but you couldn't tell if it bothered him or not. He had a reputation and now he has a new one to live up to, whilst trying to still remain knowledgeable in the galaxy.

Him and Fennec continue to talk between themselves, you start to become very lost as you had no clue what they are on about anymore. You feel your body slowly getting tired, the alcohol just making you sleepy more than drunk.

However the mention of your name snaps you awake, Fennec turning her gaze to you as she says ''as much as I don't want to know, I must ask. When? Why? And most importantly... him?'' smirking as she was clearly trying to tease Boba.

''Oh, erm'' you mutter, trying to make your thoughts coherent as you try to think of an answer. What did she want to know exactly, like did she want details or just a timeline or what?

''You don't have to answer her, little one'' Boba says, jokingly glaring at Fennec as her face cringes at the use of the pet name.

Her face scrunched up as she stares at him ''are you trying to find more reasons for me to tease and mock you? Plus, I'm just asking her an easy question. I'm just a bit confused on how, whatever this is, started.''

''Well maybe you should have walked her back to her room that night you got her drunk then'' Boba smirked as he downed the last of his drink.

Fennec's eyes popped out her head as she turned to you, ''since then?!''

''N-not really'' you add. They both give you confused looks, ''we haven't actually... you know'' your gaze now turn away from them, whispering ''fucked.'' Causing Fennec's head to shoot back to Boba and seemed even more confused by what was happening.

It was almost amusing trying to watch her catch up with it, like she was working out some timeline in her head. ''So wait, you two have just been, what? Flirting for the last like two weeks?''

Her response just made Boba chuckle as he said ''if that's what you wanna call it.''

''Wait! So when you were worried you 'offended' Boba was that a sexual thing? Did you two pull me into this?'' She asks, recalling the incident when she offered to speak to Boba for you and he said he already accepted your apology outside the Sanctuary.

You shake your head and say ''no, no. That was something else, that was me genuinely being confused if he could arrest someone.''

The whole time Boba is just grinning to himself, moving around the bar to behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders. ''I just want to- you know what, I don't want to understand it'' she says finishing her drink, ''just again, don't do it in front of me please.''

Yet Boba didn't seem to be listening to her as he pulls your body back against his stomach, and you dare to straighten back up for Fennec's comfort but his grip is too tight. ''Wanna go back to your quarters?'' Boba clearly smirking above you. Was he trying to get her to leave?

Seeing Fennec's face cringe from across you as she stood up, ''okay, I got the message boss. I'll see you in the morning.'' The pair of you watched her leave the room and head up into her quarters, but as she's going up the stairs she yells ''just be safe, I'm not dealing with a child!''

Your body freezes up from embarrassment, feeling Boba's hand squeeze your shoulder and chuckle at her comment. At least she genuinely wasn't annoyed by you two, but Boba didn't need to wind her up like that. But yet maybe that was their friendship? You hadn't really seen them together for that long before.

Boba moves a hand up to your throat, squeezing it a little and pulling your attention back to him. ''So, do you want to?''

It took you a moment to remember what he was referring to, since you were too busy swallowing a whimper from the pressure on your throat. You give him a simple nod against his stomach, thinking about what he was saying to you on your couch earlier today.

He removes his hand and turns the stool around with his other hand, your head bending up to look at him. The look in his eyes makes you melt, it was like he was undressing you with his gaze. Placing his body between your thighs as his strokes the top of your head, ''I want to make you cum so hard you can't even think straight'' he whispers.

''S-sir'' you whimper. Maker, please it was all you wanted. You had been waiting so long, you needed him so badly you could scream. Boba then grabs your hand and indicates to stand up, so you do and he pulls you with him to your room. His pace was quick, like it was all he had thought about and wanted it right now.

When you arrive at your quarters Boba once again opens the door, pulling you in and slamming the door behind him. He turns around to face you with a look of desire in his eyes, scanning up and down your body, ready to take you. ''Who's the eager one now?'' You giggle at your attempt to tease him.

His expression changes, his eyes tense up and he smirks, ''careful little one.''

''Or what?''

He then closes the space between you two and brings his hand to your cheek, slapping it and then grabbing your face as a slight whimper leaves your opened mouth. ''Clearly someone can't handle her drink. You have one and suddenly you think it's okay to tease me?''

You try to smile the best you can under his grip as you reply ''but I'm right.''

Which results in him slapping your cheek again, then turning your body around and shoving you towards your bed, practically walking you there whilst being behind you the whole time. Once you reach the bed he bends your body over, your ass in the air. The one day you wore pants had to be today, you can't even really give him much of a show to tease him with.

''Have I got to teach you another lesson, slut?'' Boba asks as he presses his crotch against your ass. You let out a little whimper and press your body back, trying to get any type of pressure off him to help relieve yourself. But you hear him tusk as he says ''no, no. You don't get what you want now.''

You then feel his hands reach around your stomach to undo your pants, allowing him to do so. He undoes them and slowly pulls them down your thighs, feeling him then massage your ass cheeks. Having an idea what was to come as he said ''count.''

And you were right as the palm of his leathered gloved hand slams down on your ass cheek. A quiet whimper leaves your lips, you forgot how painfully pleasurable it felt. Maybe you should just keep teasing him, wanting him to keep hurting you in multiple ways that made your underwear soak for him.

Thoughts stopped as he grabs a fist full of your hair, ''I said count'' his tone was so powerful and dominant. It was like you were gushing into your underwear, how did this man have this much power over your body?

''One'' you whimper.

''Good girl, don't forget next time'' Boba says as he lets go of your hair.

Then the next slap comes, this time it was a little harder then the last one. Most likely due to you not following his simple instruction. ''Two'' a slight moan coming out as you say it. His hand grabs into your ass, kneading into it before pulling away and slapping it hard again. This time a moan does escapes you, ''t-three.''

''One more'' he mumbles. The force of the last one made your body push forwards slightly, making your pussy clench around nothing.

''Four'' you moan.

For a couple of minutes you stay like this, your ass burning as he held your hips, clearly staring down at your most likely red ass. Then you feel him lower himself between your legs, flinching as he places a soft kiss on the sore area. He then strokes over your soaked underwear, pressing softly over your sensitive clit. You press your body down but he just tusks again, ''naughty girls don't get what they want.''

''But- but please, I want you... I want you to make me cum'' you whimper, absolutely desperate for his touch.

His fingers push on your clit, not moving though, just adding the slight pressure as you let out a quiet moan. ''Maker you are needy, you go a few days without my touch and you practically soak my fingers before I even touch you'' he taunts.

You slowly move your body to force his fingers to grind against you, but he pulls them away. ''Please'' you almost yell. Boba stands back up and grips your hips, thrusting his clothed body against your ass, making you moan quietly. 

''No'' he replies, clearly smirking to himself. He then leans down and whispers into your ear ''no matter how hard you beg, you'll get fucked when I say so.''

A thought crawls into your head, maybe it was a bad one, but you needed to do something to get him to fuck you. ''Maybe I should go find that other Mandalorian then'' you smirk. Boba stills behind you as you add ''maybe they'll fuck me instead.'' Where was this confidence coming from? Pretending that you would go fuck a total stranger who walked away when you smiled at them?

It happens in a blur almost, Boba pulls you onto your feet, spins you around and then pushes you onto your back on the bed. He glares down at you as the air re-enters your lungs. He looks angry, but also seems to know you are only teasing him. Watching as he yanks your boots off and pulls your pants and underwear off in one quick go.

Spreading your legs as he dances two fingers around your hole, ''oh would you now? You think he could make you cum as hard as I can?'' he teases as he pushes his fingers into your soaking pussy.

Letting out a loud moan as your eyes roll back, maybe it wasn't a bad way to tease him? After all you got somewhat of what you wanted.

Feeling his thumb run circles over your clit as his two fingers pull in and out of you, ''don't test me girl, I will be the one to claim you. I plan to wreck you completely, not him.'' Your pussy clenches around his fingers at his words, maker the way he was speaking to you could make you cum right now. ''Got it?''

''Y-yes'' you moan, your head rolling back.

He then pushes your shirt up and pinches your nipple, ''yes, what?'' he snaps.

''Yes... sir'' you whimper, your body getting overstimulated already. He just hums as he pulls on your nipple, your back arching under him. You had missed this, even though it had only been a few days and you had been making yourself cum, when Boba did it the feeling was a hundred times better.

He curls his fingers, hitting that same spot that caused you become a moan messing. Clutching the bed sheets to steady yourself as your body starts to shake a little. Your body was in complete pleasure, loving how he made you feel.

Thoughts trailing off about him fucking you, his big thick cock ruining your pussy, your body completely his. Submitting to him and him only. You couldn't wait for the day it happens, your pussy clenching around his fingers at the thought.

You can feel the pool in the pit of your stomach grow, your release getting closer and closer. He must have been able to tell as his fingers curled more, pulling you closer. But then you hear Boba's com link on his belt buzzes, Skad's voice coming through saying ''boss, we have a problem.''

Boba let's go of your nipple as pushes it over your mouth, muffling your moans as he shushes you, ''be quiet or else.'' Removing his hand as he picks up the com, his pace on your pussy not slowing down. How the kriff did he expect you to be quiet?

Pressing the button he speaks into the com, ''urgent?'' His gaze still on you as you bite down on your bottom lip to keep your moans and whimpers quiet.

''Yes sir, there's reports of an attack in Mos Espa'' Skad replies.

You let out a whimper, a mix of the pleasure from Boba but also worry. An attack? He stops his movements and pull back, the pair of you staring at each other. ''Alright, meet me in the throne room in 5 minutes'' he says ending the conversation.

The expression on his face is hard, he was angry and you think scared. It was like he didn't know what to do. Even though he had been preparing for an attack for a few weeks now it was real now, the Pykes were actually attacking now.

''B-Boba'' you whisper as you stare at him, feeling extremely anxious and scared.

He meets your eyes again, and then pushes his fingers back inside you, a moan falling out your mouth. ''Need you to cum for me first, want you to feel good still'' he mumbles as his pace picks up.

Whimpering and moaning under him, ''but... Skad said-''

A slap across your tit cuts you off as he adds ''I don't want to hear anyone else's name come out of that pretty mouth of yours as I'm about to make you cum. You are to only say mine.'' His hand once again twists and pulls on your nipple, your pussy clenching around him as you get closer again.

As much as you wanted him to make you cum right now, you feel like this wasn't as important, but he seemed to think otherwise apparently.

''Think you can take one more?'' he asks as he teases a third finger, slowly pushing it into your tight hole. A deep moan escapes your lips as your head rolls back again. ''So good for me'' he praises as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you.

Your orgasm was closing up again, the pool in your stomach reappearing. ''I'm cl-close'' you whimper. His pace quickens, his thumb back to rubbing your clit as he pulled your overstimulated body closer and closer.

''Cum for me, mesh'la'' he commands and you instantly obey. Your pussy clenches around his fingers as you moan quite loud under him, his hand moving from your nipple to hold your rising hips down. ''That's my good girl'' he praises slowly pulling his fingers out, causing you to whimper a little.

He leans down and places a soft kiss on your forehead, holding your cheek as he pulls back. Your eyes meeting again, but the same look is still there in his look, the same angry and somewhat scared look. You lift your hand up and hold his cheek, ''are you o-okay?''

''I will be, I'll sort this'' Boba replies as he strokes your cheek, ''don't worry about me.'' However his statement doesn't calm you, you can feel his anxiety running off him.

Slowly lifting himself back up to his feet, then helping you sit back up. You just watch him, trying to keep yourself calm by looking at his beautiful face, wishing that you didn't need to deal with the reality of what was happening. Swallowing all your fear and anxiety as he didn't need to deal with that currently.

He softly holds your head, pulling your gaze to meet his but you can't hold it, your eyes unable to focus on his. ''Hey'' he says softly ''look at me.'' Your eyes slowly meet his again, his expression softens as he continues ''I told you, I'm going to take care of you, and I'm going to keep you safe. No one will hurt you, I promise.''

Tears start to form in your eyes, ''but... wh-what if-''

His thumb wipes the tear from under your eye as he cuts you off saying ''princess, everything will be okay. I'm going to sort everything out.'' Empathy fills his eyes, he could tell you really were worrying about everything, and he planned to reassure you but only his words could do so much.

''I just... I can't watch i-it happen, again'' you whisper, more tears slowly flowing from your eyes, ''I-I can't''

Boba pulled your body close as your head rested on his hard cold armour, his hand stroking the back of your head. ''I promise, this won't be like your homeworld. No one is dying in this war'' he reassures you. But how did he know about home? You never told him what happened there, especially about the civil war that broke out. How did he know about this?

Had Fennec told him? Or did they already know since she did mention they already knew some things about you already, but what did they know exactly?

However, right now you decided not to care too much, you'd rather just have his affection instead. 

He holds you for a little longer, he was well past the five minutes he told Skad, but he didn't seem to care. Once he did let go of you he headed into the fresher and cleaned his gloves, bringing back a cloth to wipe your tear stained face. When he finished he pulled your lips to his and placed a soft kiss on them.

You were once again in awe at this side of him, this gentle and caring bounty hunter. A man who hunted people for a job calming you from your own overthinking and making sure you felt safe.

After he was sure you felt better he left to meet Skad, you had to promise him about three times for him to actually believe you so he would leave. Watching in your doorway as he headed to the throne room, apologising to Skad he took longer than expected, but didn't give him an explanation to why.

At the end of the day he was the Daimyo so you guess it's his word is the only one that mattered.

*** You didn't sleep that well, your brain distracted all night. Full of fear and anxiety.

The knock on your door was what woke you up, you drag your tired body out of bed to the stranger at your door. Fixing your nightdress before finding out who exactly was here.

As you unlock the door you are presented with a very tired Boba. ''Vaar'tur, cyar'ika'' he softly smiles.

''Morning'' you force a smile back.

''May I?'' He asked, clearly indicating to come into the room. You move to the side and allowed him to enter, as he walked past you he grabbed your arm gently and pulled you over to your couch. He sits himself down and looks up at you, ''you look so pretty in the morning.''

You blush, ''so do you'' you quietly reply. He hums as he pulls you on the couch, sitting you next to him. You get yourself comfy as he holds your hand. His soft and happy expression slowly drop as he looks at your hand, his thumb stroking the back of your it. You're starting to get a bit concerned as you ask, ''Boba, why are you here at this time?''

His eyes meet yours, ''you know the attack from last night?'' Your face drops as you nod, he continues with ''it was at the Sanctuary.''

It was like time stopped, there was no way you heard him right. The Sanctuary? Why would there have been an attack there? Your breathing became unsteady as tears prickled your eyes, staring at him in disbelief.

''What?'' The tears already escaping your eyes, ''please, tell me you're lying.'' But the look on your face tells you he isn't. You pull your hand away from his as you stand from the couch ''is everyone okay? Is Garsa okay? I need go, I need to make sure everyone is okay.'' 

Your feet are carrying you into your bedroom, pulling the nightdress over your head, searching through your closet in your underwear. You needed to check on everyone, they needed help. There was no way you could stay in this guarded Palace whilst everyone could be dead. As you grab a jumper you hear Boba's spars make their way quickly towards you, he pulls you back and wraps his arms around your waist.

''Get the kriff off me! I need to help them'' you cry out, tears just pouring all over your face.

''Little one, calm down'' he says, his voice so soft and calm, but you just try to shove him. Using all your force to get out of his grasp, but he is too strong. His grip around you not budging, holding you away from your clothes as you struggle in your underwear. 

''You're not there to help them and you're meant to be the fucking Daimyo, why aren't you there?!'' You were angry, why wasn't Boba helping? Why had he been so insistent to make you cum last night when he could've went and helped instead? 

It all felt like it was your fault.

He pulls you back towards your couch and shoves you down on it, there is a look of pain in his eyes. ''Stop it'' he says as he kneels down in front of you, holding your face as you let more tears fall, ''there was nothing I could have done.''

''B-but'' you cry, but no words come out. How could they? What was there to say?

''It was already too late by the time Skad informed me, sadly there were too many casualties'' Boba says. Was this meant to comfort you? You stare at him with pain in your eyes, opening your mouth to reply but he adds ''Garsa is okay, she is badly injured but in a good enough condition. Luckily quite a few people were in okay condition, everyone is getting treatment they need.''

A slight sigh of relief leaves you, ''thank the maker'' you whisper, but the tears still fall. All those innocent lives lost, people you were once close with, co-workers who had families waiting at home for them. All gone.

All thanks to this stupid kriffing war, but you couldn't blame Boba. It wasn't his fault, but again this only happened because he took power. But it was wrong to blame him, especially when you could see how upset he was about this all. Knowing he had been trying to prevent this for weeks, trying to assure this never happened in the first place.

Your body then shivers, a sudden reminder you're still in your underwear. ''Stay there'' Boba says as he heads back towards the bedroom, hearing him rummage through your clothes. Returning with a long sleeve blue knitted top and baggy brown pants, handing them over to you. You gently take them off him as you pull them over your body, thanking him as you do so.

He then informs you that he, Fennec and the Mods were heading into Mos Espa, to get a grasp on what had happened. He wanted to see the Sanctuary's remains and get a full idea on what they were dealing with there, promising he will be back in a couple of hours to deploy everyone how they were needed.

Before he levels he once again reassures you, telling you that if everything goes south to grab the first speeder and flee to Mos Eisley. You really hope that it was just a back up plan, praying everything will go smoothly and by the end of the day you'll be back here with Boba.

It had been about an hour since Boba and the others left, you just managed to force some food down, even though you felt sick you knew you had to eat something. Staring at the wall as you tried to keep yourself calm, but all you can do is sadden yourself over the thoughts of what happened.

You wish you knew where Garsa was, wanting to visit her and check she is okay. You wonder who else survived, Boba never really explained what type of attack it was, but since he mentioned remains you imagine it is possible it was blown up. Which would make sense, it's sadly a easy and simple way to attack.

Boba had told you to stay in the throne room if you wished as it would be easier to contact you there, so you decide to leave your quarters and head there instead. As you turn the corner you hear heavy feet head up the throne room steps, a glimpse of that same silver Mandalorian armour from yesterday catches your eyes.

You him grunt as he enters the room, was he looking for Boba? So you quicken your pace and enter the room, he was already staring at you, well you think as you were unaware from his visor. ''Hey, you looking for Bo- Lord Fett?'' You ask, but you get no response. ''I know where he is if you wish to know'' you inform him.

''Who are you?'' He asks, his voice is a bit softer then Boba's, but still just as tough with the modifier. His body language was hard to read, his armour didn't really help, he just seemed fed up and tired. Who exactly was he?

''I'm, erm... I'm his kitchen cleaner'' you reply. It felt almost like a lie, but it wasn't, not fully. You were a bit more than that but you still hadn't had the chance to speak to him about that, and it didn't really matter right now anyway.

''Where is he then?'' The Mandalorian asks, clearly growing tired and just wanting to leave already.

''Mos Espa, at the Sanctuary'' you reply. All he does is hum and goes to leave, ''what's your name by the way? I haven't seen you around before... well apart from yesterday.''

His back is turned to you, he doesn't move a muscle as he says ''just call me Mando.'' You reply with your name but he just walks away, was he always so rude? 

Watching as he left the throne room to, you assume, go find Boba. There was something so sad about him, like he was lost. More so then just someone who was in a place he'd never been in, like something personal was happening. You had seen it countless times with others, you just knew when someone was dealing with something, and a part of you wished to help this stranger.

He was almost intriguing, a complete mystery. Maybe he was a bounty hunter and that's why he acted in that cold and distant way? You wished to know more, but you doubt 'Mando' would ever tell you, you could ask Boba but maybe that was weird. 

So you make your way over to one of the booths, feeling very alone in this huge Palace. You wonder who else was still here, did everyone go with them?

Trying to get comfy as you lounged around the booth, loading up some holomovie to distract yourself as you lay across the seat. Maker you hope they are back soon, this all felt quite dystopian almost, being the only person in the Palace. Well you think the rancor is still down in his pit, but you couldn't be bothered to move and find out.

This day had already been so overwhelming, you felt so out of place and useless. Considering you technically survived a civil war you had no fighting skills, well you didn't really survive, you just ran away. There were no skills you had to help fight this war, just having to watch it unfold, your boss or whatever you could class Boba as, having a backup run away plan in case you're the only one left.

The fear of none of them returning sneaks into your head, if none of them came back you would have no one. The Sanctuary gone and the Palace abandoned. 

You give yourself a shiver and shake away all the anxiety, trying to keep everything more positive minded. They had been gone about two hours, that was a normal length for a patrol. Nothing bad will happen you reassure yourself, taking a deep breath in and focusing on the bad holomovie to calm yourself.

Apparently you dozed off a bit as the sound of the huge door opened upstairs. You froze, who was coming in? What had you missed? Where the Pykes coming to take the Palace?

Shit, you should've stayed awake, you're done for now. This was it-

''Is he ready?'' You heard Boba's voice faintly. You quickly jumped to your feet and headed up the slightly twisting staircase, in the distance beyond the huge door you could see the suns beaming down on Boba and the rancor trainer standing next to the rancor. What had you missed? Were they prepping the rancor? 

You sprinted over to the door as he turned to see you, he was in fully armour with his helmet on. His body seemed tense and also tired, but his shoulders dropped a little as you got closer. ''What's happening?'' You ask, a bit out of breath.

''Didn't you hear over the coms?''

You shake your head and reply, ''no... sorry, I fell asleep a-and left the com in my room.''

He cups your cheek and says ''it's okay, I'll explain it all later. I need to go back and help Djarin though.'' You wondered if that was the real name of the Mandalorian? But what was still happening? Why had he came back for the rancor?

''Ha-has it started?''

He softly nods, ''sadly, but we have it under control. I came back for reinforcements.''

You start to shake a little, looking at the rancor with sad eyes, and then turning back to Boba. You lean forward and place a kiss on his dusty and sandy helmet, ''please be safe.''

Boba grabs your hand and squishes it as he replies ''don't worry about me, I can take care of myself.''

He then lets go and climbs onto the beast, and oh maker what a view that was! His legs spread on it's back, grabbing the chains and pulling on them. This isn't an action you though would make your pussy clench, and yet here you were. 

Watching him quickly ride off on the rancor to the city, he looked so powerful and sexy on the back of it.

The trainer just headed back inside, you slowly follow, placing yourself back into the booth awaiting for their returns.

[silverwings22]

Caught in the Crosshairs: Chapter 48: What You Want: Evanescence

Series warnings: Smut, mind control, canon typical violence, childhood trauma, language, chronic illness

Chapter Warnings: PTSD lashing out, minor injury, dream sequence (not smut but fluff)

Translations: buir: mother/father vod: brother/sister jai'galaar: shriek-hawk ad'ika: little one aliit: clan di'kute: idiots ner jetii'ika: my little Jedi a'lor: leader/chieftan Ner aliit, ad be ner b'riduur vod. Vizla'ad: my clan, child of my spouse's sibling. Child of clan Vizla. ad be ner vod: "child of my brother/sister", niece/nephew Vor entye, ner ba'vodu: Thank you, my aunt/uncle

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Omega had never been so worried in her entire short life. Not when she’d been locked in a cell on Kamino. Not when she’d been captured by Cad Bane. Not even when she’d been moments from drowning with Miria in the debris field of what had once been Tipoca city. All those things had been happening in that moment, and there were things she could do to fight the situation. 

This morning, she’d woken up and gone sleepily to Miria’s room to ask her to brush her hair. The woman’s bed had been empty, and didn’t look like it had been slept in at all. After a hour of searching high and low for her General, she finally woke up Annalise and Jet. When even they didn’t know where Miria was, the entire farmhouse had panicked. 

Hunter had circled back again and again to the empty barn where Miria’s scent trail left off. Irene had been with her, and Aram. It might have been comforting if Miria hadn’t been so frail and sickly. He feared the worst, that this whole adventure to Naboo had been her subtle way of telling him she was ready to rejoin the Force and she’d wandered into the woods like a dying barn tooka. He could imagine her trying to spare everyone the pain of her demise like that. Maybe Irene and Aram had tried to talk her out of it? Or gone looking for her without waking everyone else up before sunrise?

Tech was running scans using Jet’s droids to try to find any movement, Echo and Wrecker riding around on speeders with the perfume farmer to look around the farm for his wayward daughter. Omega was clinging to Hunter, who’d been trying to pick up a trail that led out of the barn, while Annalise was trying to get Irene or Aram on the comm. Only Argais seemed calm, sitting on the porch with his tea.

“How is this not stressing you out?” Hunter rubbed his temples, coming back to the porch to try to pick up the trail again, that just kept leading him back to the barn. “It’s your wife and kid missing too.”

“And that is precisely why I am sure Miria is in good hands. Though I am surprised Irene took Aram with her, since she is usually so protective of him.”

Hunter sat on the porch with the former Jedi, Omega in his lap. “I didn’t think she’d be the kind to coddle a kid.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call it that.” Argais laughed, offering a cookie to Omega from his own plate. “But Irene lost all of her immediate family when she was young. She wants him to be strong enough to take down planets, but she never lets him face any real danger. Aram is strong and well trained, but he’s never had to use it.”

Omega looked up from Hunter’s arms. “Like how Miri says I can’t just be as strong as the rest of the batch, I have to be better?”

Argais nodded. “Though I think my niece is a little more familiar with the process of letting children fall and make mistakes to learn. You’ve seen more, Omega, than my son has… though I think that will change soon. He’s at the age where children often decide to rebell and throw themselves into things.”

Hunter’s arms tightened around Omega. “You’re talking about the rebellion.”

“I think Aram will end up in it.” Argais nodded. “If he goes, so will Irene. If she goes, so will I. My sister and Jet will make their own choices, if they wish to fight or remain here as a peaceful place in the eye of the storm. But even if they do, there will be plenty of weapons moving in boxes of perfume around the galaxy.” 

Hunter sighed. He hated to think that one day Omega might want to fight as badly as Echo did. Miria did too, but she was too sick to- “I hear a ship.” He frowned, head coming up. 

Tech frowned from where he was tapping at his datapad furiously. “I am not picking up any ship readings.”

“Doesn’t matter. Get down.” He hit his comm. “Echo, Wrecker, get back to the main house. Ship inbound and Tech can’t find it on the scanner.” 

“On the way.” Echo said seriously. 

It was only a few moments before the ground between the back barn and house depressed like something had landed in the grass. Hunter couldn’t see a ship, but he felt the electromagnetic pulses he always sensed from machinery. Echo and Wrecker lined up with him and Tech, weapons in hand, as a cloaking feature dropped and revealed a sleek black ship. 

“Stand down, soldiers.” Argais smiled. “That’s my wife’s ship.”

Hunter froze. “... She has her own ship. A stealth ship.” No wonder he couldn’t find a trail out of the barn after Miria went in it. She hadn’t walked out, she’d flown. 

Why would Miria leave the planet without telling them? Unless it was a last request to her aunt and cousin… what if she was already dead? He was going to lose his mind if she was already dead. She couldn’t leave them like that!

The ramp dropped open and Irene was standing in the doorway, hands on her hips. “I don’t know if I’m mad you’re pointing blasters at my ship or impressed you knew where we landed with the cloak on.”

Aram’s mass of black curls appeared behind her. “Hunter’s got those senses, Buir. He knows stuff.”

The clones holstered their weapons, Hunter’s eyes trying to see past the two Mandalorians as they stepped down the ramp. He leaned over and finally, blessedly, spotted the flutter of a pink sundress. 

Miria had her hands clasped in front of her, her eyes lifted up to look around the farm like she hadn’t appreciated it fully before. Her skirts and bell sleeves billowed a little in the warm afternoon breeze, and there was ash scuffing her round-toed shoes. She smiled faintly as Hunter ran over to her, hands hooking into her vest. “Miria- whatever the hell your middle name is- Halcyon! Where the hell have you been?” 

“It's Adeline, and I-” She started

The rest of the Batch darted over, clamoring around their leaders. “Easy with her, Hunter.” Wrecker grumbled. “Miri’s little.”

“General, where have you been? When your mother was unsure, we all became very concerned.” Tech leaned over to look at her while Echo tried to calm Hunter. 

“I’m-” Miri tried again, cut off this time by the corporal.

“Vod, don’t shake her like that. I know you’re upset, but-”

“Miri, I was scared.” Omega wrapped her arms around Miria’s waist. 

Miria cleared her throat sharply. “Is everyone quite through talking over me?”

That seemed to startle the men, who all blinked at her. Hunter let go of her slowly. “Sorry, Miri….”

She smiled faintly. “I’m fine, boys. More than fine.” She flexed her fingers thoughtfully. “I went with Aunt Irene to heal, and it worked.”

“Heal…?” Echo blinked. 

Miria nodded, stepping up and wrapped her arms around his middle. The hug was tight, and she startled him when she picked him up metal limbs and all and spun in a circle, laughing. “Yes!”

The Batch started yelling again, crowding around to hug and examine her. “You’re better?!”

“You’re not dying!”

“Oh thank Manda.”

Miria smiled. “I finally have what I thought I’d never get, boys. Time.” She looked around. “Now it’s a matter of out lasting the Empire.” 

The guys nodded, and Omega squealed with delight. Irene caught Miria’s eye and beckoned her to follow her back to the barn the Jai'galaar had been originally parked in. "I'll be right back." Miria patted Hunter’s shoulder. "Can you tell Mother I'm alright?"

"Sure." He smiled and led the others back towards the house. 

Miria joined her aunt back by her forge. "Yes, Aunt Irene?"

"I've got something for you. A gift." Irene pulled a small piece of metal from her pocket.

"Beskar? Aunt Irene, that's so hard to get ahold of…" Miria frowned. Mandalorian steel was being stolen left and right from the planet as the Empire went after Separatist, Republic, and neutral systems alike. 

"Ad'ika, you think I don't know a trick or two to find it? I'm Mandalorian, beskar belongs with my people. I made this for you." Irene nudged Miria towards the smelter. 

It was a simple was sturdy affair, anvils and tools cleaned and put away with the meticulousness of a disciplined warrior. Miria doubted her arms would have been able to lift some of them, even if the stifling heat that must have come on when the forge was lit didn't take her out. "For me? I'm not Mandalorian, Aunt Irene. It seems… tactless, for me to accept."

"Here's the funny thing about my people. We like foundlings." Irene smirked. "You don't have to be born on Mandalore to be a Mandalorian. Our people find ways to increase their clans, even without having a ton of kids… it's practical, considering the mortality rate when we go to war. And those of us who follow the old ways like to go to war."

Miria scowled. "I've seen enough war."

"And you'll see more. The Empire’s not going away anytime soon." Irene walked over to a work table. "Now, as I was saying: Mandalorians like taking foundlings and expanding families. The way I did it was taking Argais' family as part of my aliit. The Draper-Halcyon family is now a part of Clan Vizla. I'd rather have them than those Death Watch d'kute. But since you've been removed from the family for so long, custom indicates you receive a formal invitation, as what your parents accepted didn't apply to you then and won't retroactively apply because you're over the age of fourteen."

Miria blinked. "Fourteen?"

"The age of Mandalorian adulthood. We live hard and die fast." Irene shrugged. "C'mere."

Miria cautiously approached, head spinning. An invitation to a Mandalorian clan… a place of belonging, a history and legacy she could wrap her fingers around. It was something she'd often thought about, commiserating with her men about their heritage as Mandalorian but displacement from everything to do with the culture. Crosshair had once casually mentioned that not having a clan felt uncomfortable, which meant that it bothered him more than words could say but he was too proud to admit it. If he ever came home, she might could give it to him. "What does it mean, for me?" She finally asked. 

"Well, on the surface level it's permission to enter our sacred places and wear our armor if you wanted. You'd also have the right to Mandalorian birth, wedding, and funeral honors, and a place in Manda if you earned it. More personally, it makes me your a'lor, your chief." Irene explained. "That gives you access to more help by creed, and me permission to act on your behalf if needed."

The little woman gave her aunt a hard look. "Why do I get the feeling this is more for your benefit than my own?"

"Because you're not an idiot." Irene smirked. "Yes, there's something in it for me. But most importantly for you, ner jetii'ika, is that the Batch would be included in the offer. You're their commanding officer, so their a'lor. This is something like… a merge of clans. And should anything happen to you, they would have my protection. I know you asked Aram about securing your inheritance for them. Consider this a part of it."

Miria chewed her lip. "You're not going to start ordering me around, are you? Because as nice as it would be to not be in charge, I have to maintain my responsibility to my squad."

"You're blood-kin to Argais and Annalise Draper. I learned my lesson about giving orders twenty years ago with them." Irene laughed. "I might have been a deadly Sith assassin once upon a time, but that neither impresses or intimidates Nabooian warriors. And when I say warriors, I don't just mean your uncle. Your mother was a royal guard once, and she fought during the battle of Naboo. Don't let the cute farmer wife getup fool you."

Miria couldn't resist a smile. That sounded like her mother, to throw her entire being into a battle against impossible odds. She'd probably offered to make a young queen Amidala a snack before the scrapped droidikas were even cleaned out of the palace. "Then I see no reason to refuse… it would be my honor."

Irene held up a pendant on a beskar chain. It was round, the shriek-hawk symbol of her clan embossed into it and no bigger than the honeycomb middle of her own chest plate. "There's one condition to me giving you this Miria Adeline. And you must hear me out before you decide. Deal?"

"Deal." Miria nodded. Even if she disagreed, hearing her aunt was always insightful. 

"You must let go of what the Jedi taught you. You have to stop caring about being likable."

Miria squeaked. "How in the Force is that something to be desired?"

Irene held up a hand. "Listen to me before you decide. And yes, I know what I'm about to say will sound cruel. You need to hear it anyway."

Miria braced for impact like she was in a crashing ship. "... I'm listening."

"We both know the Sith walk in the darkness, and darkness leaves you blind." Irene said firmly. "But staring at a sun will blind you just as surely. The Jedi were blind in their total commitment to the light side, and that hubris killed them. They never saw what was coming because they ignored the signs. They didn't deserve what they got, but it was a trap they could have foreseen if they hadn't been so self-righteous. You still think like a Jedi, you kill the voice inside you that tells you what you need in favor of looking at the wants of others."

"What do you mean?" Miria frowned. 

"You gave Crosshair a choice on Kamino, and he chose the Empire."

Miria's jaw tightened. "I will never take his freedom from him, Aunt Irene. As painful as his choice was, it was his to make. He had his choices stolen too often in the Republic."

Irene raised an eyebrow. "And the chip you still think is there?"

"He has to choose to fight it. It's… not that I must be likable. It's that it's what's right. He can only be free if he breaks his own chains. I'm not his heroine, as much as I wish to be." Miria swallowed hard and met her aunt's eyes. 

"Can you live with the decision he made?"

Slowly, the young woman nodded. "I'll… I'll try, Aunt Irene." She finally whispered. "I can't force him… but I can try to convince him to make a better choice. It's never too late to come home."

 Irene laid the pendant in Miria's hand. "Wise words, spoken like a proper Mandalorian. Ner aliit, ad be ner b'riduur vod. Vizla'ad."

"Thank you." Miria repeated as Irene put the clan Crest around her neck. It hung over her heart, and felt solid and heavy when she touched it. 

Irene smiled. "A broken light still shines, ad be ner vod."

Miria touched her crest again. She was perhaps a Jedi no longer… but a Mandalorian, a broken light… existing in both sides of the spectrum without contradiction. "Vor entye, ner ba'vodu. I will remember."

"Keep your eyes closed." 

Miria stood still in the center of a recently gleaned field, boots in the soft dirt. Just tilled, she could smell the damp earth and sweet perfume of broken flowers. Argais and Irene were circling her, the steady hum of their sabers and her own filling her ears. 

This was training, as if she were still a padawan. This time, however, she was training in both light and dark of the Force. 

She heard an electric crackle, not unlike the electrowhips she had faced before. "To harness the dark side and not fall to it, you have to learn to enjoy the pain." Irene said firmly, on her right. She shifted her saber to her left hand. "Take it. Give it a purpose."

Miria nodded. "I'm ready."

"Are you?" 

The lighting struck her squarely in the shoulder, knocking her off her feet. She thudded into the soft soil with a groan.

"You said you were ready." Argais said mildly. 

At the outskirts of the field, Omega tugged gently at Annalise's apron. "Why are they beating her up?"

"It's training." Hunter explained, arms crossed. He didn't like it either, but Miria had asked them to stay out of it. 

"It looks like it hurts." Omega frowned. 

"It probably does." Echo sighed. "But she's stubborn."

Tech was just recording as Miria got to her feet. "I do not understand this kind of training."

Miria flexed her arms and lifted her saber, adjusting her stance. "Again."

Argais smiled faintly. "Brave woman. But you're not using the Force to sense your surroundings. You've been reserving your energy to stay alive. Now, you must use it."

Miria closed her eyes again. The anxiety of a known attack coming prickled at her gut, distracting in its intensity. If she couldn't master this, she would fail again.

"Show us what you're made of." Irene was smirking, she just knew it. 

Another crackle of lightning echoed. Miria gritted her teeth and reached out into the Force. Show me.

It burst into blinding light in her consciousness, the sensation of her aunt and uncle close by and the rest of the family at a distance. Irene was rolling lightning in her hand, Argais poised and ready. 

This time when Irene attacked, Miria threw her hand up. The electricity struck her palm, and Miria started to tense with the intention of fighting it. 

"Irene is stronger than you, Miria." Argais chided. "Use what you've learned."

Irene was stronger. It was no good to throw her own strength against that impenetrable wall, but if she could use that strength against her aunt…

Don't fight. Claim as my own. 

She pulled the lightning inward, cycling it as a circuit through her body. Two fingers on her saber hilt lifted and she directed it out, back at Irene. 

"Good. Maintain your focus." Argais' voice was right next to her, and she ducked his saber as it came down. "Open your eyes."

When the lavender eyes snapped open, Miria was moving at top speed. Argais came after her hard, a skilled duelist in his own right. But Irene wasn't one to be left out of a fight, and soon Miria was ducking both her blades as well. 

Block, duck, parry, twist. Combat was a dance that Miria had always struggled to keep to the beat of. Today the music found her willing and able, unafraid. The elusive state of battle meditation slipped over her, and she struck with all she had. 

"Good girl." Irene grinned, eyes shining. 

Good girl. Crosshair’s good girl. He isn't here, they stole him. He was mine! 

Miria let out a howl and wrenched into the Force with all her strength, sending both elder fighters flying backwards. 

Argais extinguished his blade and held his hand up. "That's enough, Miria."

His niece sank to one knee, breathing sharp. Irene put her sabers on her hips and sat up. "Miri?"

"He was mine." She whispered, dropping her saber and putting both hands in the dirt. Grounding, centering herself to the planet of her birth. "I'm sorry, Aunt Irene. I… lost my temper."

"One hell of a Force pulse. You'll learn to use it on purpose." Irene smiled. "You're fine, ad'ika. You wanna tell us what happened?"

Miria slowly stood back up. "... no."

She walked to the house, leaving her saber in the dirt behind her. Omega and Annalise reaching for her. Wrecker, gentle giant that he was, put hands on both their shoulders. He didn't totally understand what was going on with Miria, but he knew that look on her face. "Give her a minute."

Miria dragged herself to her room stiffly and dropped to her knees beside the bed, putting her head on the mattress. 

She'd been afraid of this, of losing control. Of hurting someone… Why did it all have to keep coming back to violence and pain? All she'd ever wanted in her life was peace; a life filled with gentle laughter and love. What was the Force thinking, choosing her life to mark the end of the very Empire that had stolen all she wanted to live for? 

"Crosshair…" She croaked softly. She needed her guiding star right now. Something to keep her heart where it belonged, something that could stop that nightmare vision Vader had shown her from happening. "Crosshair… Crosshair…" 

Every repetition of his name crumpled her shoulders in further, until her tears flowed like rainfall and the anger she tried so hard to accept bled from her figure. She let herself feel all of it, the agony and hatred alongside the sorrow and fear. The salt stung her eyes, lulling them closed when she'd cried and screamed herself out into her mattress.

I was yours, and you were mine. Crosshair… Crosshair… Crosshair…

"Crosshair."

The room was dark, devoid of any personal affects or warmth. The spindly soldier lay in his bunk, eyes closed. Miria took a step closer, eyes lingering on his face. When she reached the bed, she leaned over and cupped his cheek in her hand. He stirred faintly, making a tiny grumble. 

"... Jedi."

"No. Not anymore." She whispered, leaning closer. "I left that behind."

When her forehead touched his, his eyes opened slowly. "... why?" He breathed. 

"For you. Always for you." She smiled. "The best man in the galaxy."

When her lips touched his, his hand moved to the back of her neck and held her to him. "This is a dream."

"Perhaps. But do you care?" Miria let him pull her into the bunk, settling herself into his arms. 

"No."

"Nor do I." She kissed Crosshair slowly, patiently. "I can't care about anything but what you and I will build. It will be mine. You will be mine… and I have always been yours."

"Mine." His hands gripped her hips tightly, like he couldn't bear to let her escape. 

"Mine." She nodded. "Come back to me, Crosshair. I gave you a choice, on Kamino. But it's not too late to make another one. Tell me you love me."

"Miria…"

"Miria?" Aram’s voice and a knock on the door snapped the dozing woman on her knees. Her tired head lifted, eyes red and cheeks salt-slick. 

"... are your parents alright?" She rasped. 

"Yeah. Just some bruises." He eased in and put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you?"

"I… will be." She closed her eyes. "I just… want to go home."

"You'll get there. I know it." He pulled her into a hug, and she leaned in. 

I’ll find you, love. If it’s the last thing I ever do. That's my choice. 

[the-obiwan-for-me]

Clan of Two

I had every intention of participating in Bo-Katan Week 2021 for the whole week. But real life is tough, and so is my main fic right now, and it just didn’t happen. But I got struck by inspiration when I realized last night what the prompt for today is. So, here’s my single contribution for Bo-Katan Week!

She found the boy in the tiny galley of the stolen gunship, nursing a mug of weak looking tea. The poor kid's face was swollen and angry looking. She wouldn't be surprised if his orbital bone was fractured. She knew from experience that that brute of a traitor, Gar Saxon, packed a punch.

Physically, he looked rough. But he was a Kryze, and he wore his emotions loudly, just like she did. Just like Satine. And he looked shell shocked and angry and drowning in grief, just like she felt.

She slid into the bench across from him and took a long pull off a bottle of tihaar she'd found stashed away. She passed it to him. He looked at it incredulously for a moment, then took his own swig, surprising her when he didn't wince like she expected. Perhaps the kid was tougher than she thought.

"How's your head?" she asked.

He picked at the label on the bottle for several heartbeats. "She was my mother, you know."

Bo-Katan swallowed the stone that seemed lodged in her throat, then nodded. "I know that."

He looked at her, dumbstruck, his unswollen eye blazing the same fierce crystalline blue as his mother's. He took another swig from the bottle, handed it back. "How did you know?"

Bo-Katan snorted a humorless laugh. "First of all, bleaching your hair only makes you look more like your mother." He glanced away, sheepish. "But mostly, it doesn't take much to spot a Kryze. And Satine is-" a sob she had not anticipated caught in her chest- "was my only sibling. You're no foundling."

He studied her for a while, working something through in his head. She sat quietly, giving him the room he needed to process. Then he finally sighed, squaring his broad shoulders. "Why didn't you try to kill me when you were with Death Watch, if it's that easy to tell?"

Bo-Katan sighed herself. "I wouldn't allow it."

He gave her another astonished look. It was becoming a habit. "You had that much power?" he scoffed. 

She shrugged. "I was second in command. But, no, it wasn't like that." She picked at the label herself, recalling memories, some still too fresh to even feel like memories. She drowned them with a heavy drink of tihaar, then handed it to him. "Vizsla was tenacious, but he also could have the attention span of a Corellian grass squirrel. You would come up, and I would distract him." 

He drank from the bottle and stared at her, his gaze hard. "Couldn't you have done that for my mother? Your sister?"

"Listen, kid, I never intended for that to happen!" she shouted, jumping to her feet to pace, gesturing wildly back in the imagined direction of Mandalore. "None of this was supposed to happen! I didn't even want to deal with those monsters! I tried to talk Pre out of it, especially once I knew that one had such a thing for Kenobi." The sob worked itself loose from her chest and she fought back the hot tears that wanted to follow it. The heat of her anger sparked the fire of her grief. "None of this was supposed to happen. I tried, Korkie. I tried." She stopped, staring down at her boots, wondering absently whose blood splattered them. "At least I got you out." 

"I know." It was said softly, almost a whisper. She raised her gaze to meet his. "I….I just know."

"How do you know? Why should you trust me?"

"I mean, you did get me, and my friends, out. And I saw what you tried to do for others in the aftermath. You do care about Mandalore." He stood and moved toward her, resting a hand on her shoulder. He was tall, and broad chested, and in many ways reminded her of her father. But in so many ways, he was so completely, uniquely different. "And Mum trusted you immediately. She forgave you, instantly. I don't know much. She didn't talk about you except about when you two were small. I don't know what happened, but whatever it was, it wasn't so bad that she couldn't forgive you." He squeezed her shoulder, let his arm drop. "So, I should probably try to do the same. I'm going to try, ok, Auntie?"

She reached up and tenderly brushed a hand along his cheek. She was so rarely tender. She had so rarely been shown tenderness. But she could be gentle for him. He was all she had left, now, and he was too much like his mother to be treated like every other ruthless brute that had shaped her. "This is how I know you're her child, ad'ika. You could dye your hair purple and grow a beard and cover your face with tattoos. But that, right there, is how I know."

He smiled sadly, his eyes shiny with the threat of tears. He took her hand from his face and squeezed it. "Vor entye, ba'vodu."

She squeezed back before letting his hand go. "No debts here, Korkie. I am in your debt." 

He turned, rubbing his chin as he made his way back to the table, deep in thought. "What do we do now?" He drank from the bottle and handed it to her as she passed him, moving around the small space until she found a medkit.

"First, you let me patch up that face of yours," she said, sitting next to him before taking her own drink. "Then, if you're willing, we fight for our home. We fight for your mother's legacy."

He nodded once as she gently began to clean the cuts and scrapes along his face. "I am willing." He hissed in pain as she prodded along his orbital bone. It was definitely fractured. "But I don't know if I want to fight like you."

She picked up the bacta spray and gave it a shake. "Fair enough."

"And after that?"

"Well, we're family. We'll take care of each other."

He huffed out a breath. "You had a chance to be my family for eighteen years." He said it with a sharpness and bitterness she hadn't expected, sounding more like a petulant, angry teenager. He was an angry teenager, she reminded herself. Beyond that, even. The world as he knew it has been destroyed. Burned to the ground, in large part due to actions she had taken, or, at the very least, been able to prevent.

She had once been a teenager whose world had been burned to the ground, too.

So, she decided to try and take a page from her sister’s book. She forgave his sharp words.

She sighed, cupping his cheek softly, turning his face to hers. “I am beginning to regret that I didn’t take my chance more and more each day,” she said quietly. “We’re a clan of two, now, and we have to take care of each other. I won’t lose you, too. I plan on keeping you safe.” She rummaged through the medkit, pulling out the skin adhesive. “Now sit still while I glue this shut.”

He looked apologetic, took a sip of tihaar, and sat quietly, letting her work.

They sat like that for a while, Bo-Katan, working gently to glue shut a cut across Korkie’s temple. Korkie hummed a tune that Bo-Katan recognized as a lullaby her father sang to her and Satine when they were small. She mused to herself that she and Korkie would have nearly matching scars as she worked.

He suddenly jolted, looking up to meet her eyes. “If you knew she was my mum, can you tell me who my father is?”

Bo-Katan fought the urge to grimace, then gave herself a moment to compose herself, plan out the right thing to say. “Your mother and I weren’t really speaking when she would have been pregnant with you.”

It wasn’t a lie. Not at all. 

But it also wasn’t the absolute whole truth, either.

She knew who the father was. Or, at least, she had strong suspicion. She didn’t need to be a mathematician to realize Satine had to have become pregnant during her year with the two Jedi. One of which had the same nose, the same strong jaw, the same auburn hair that was just beginning to show in the roots of Korkie’s bleached hair. It was an easy enough guess. She was surprised he hadn’t guessed it already, really.

But, for now, she’d keep it herself. This boy didn’t need to know that the man who had come to save his mother, but, instead, caused her death, was his father. One day, maybe. Maybe when he wasn’t so fragile. When the world didn’t feel so utterly destroyed for the both of them.

He seemed to accept her answer. He nodded once, closed his eyes, and settled back into letting her repair the gash on his temple, humming softly to himself.

There was very little she could do to make amends for all the horror she had allowed to be wrought on their home. But she could do two things: she could fight to get it back, and she absolutely would protect her sister's son until her very last breath.

[amorevolousfaith]

Conversion Dictonary

A small pamphlet translating and defining the different languages spoken in the Conversion series.

Reader’s Un-named Native Tongue - a language loosely translated around Gaelic and Celtic.

Phrases

Anás tú : Need you (First spoken pt.1 Ch.15)

Responses

le do thoil: Please (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.15)

Curses

Damnú tú : Damn you (First spoken Pt. 1 Ch.5)

Damnú eisean : Damn Him (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.22)

Foc: Fuck (First spoke Pt.1 Ch.15)

Dibu e Debu: To the Gods and Goddesses (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.1)

Pet Names

Dathúil : Handsome (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.15)

ionúin : Beloved (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.21)

A Rún: My love (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.9)

Nouns 

Cathéide: Armor (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.5)

Páiste: Child (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.2)

Mando’a - spoken by the Mandalorians, the language is loosely translated around latin.

Phrases

Kaysh mirsh solus : His bain cell is lonely, ie he's an idiot (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.13)

Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum : I hold you in my heart forever (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.24)

Gar cuyir mesh'la: you are beautiful (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.30)

Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde : We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors. (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.23)

Responses

Elek: yes (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.13)

Nayc: No (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.5)

Ke'mot: stop (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.5)

Gedet'ye: please (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.15)

Vor entye: Thank you (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.30)

Curses

Shab: fuck (First spoken Pt.1 Ch. 15)

Shabii'gar: fuck you (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.9)

Pet Names

Riduur : significant other (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.13)

Cyar'ika : darling, sweetheart (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.25)

Cyare : beloved, loved (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.11)

Mesh'la : beautiful (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.9)

Ad'ika: little one (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.5)

Nouns

Riduur : significant other (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.13)

Riduurok: Marriage (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.23)

Buir : Mother, father, parent (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.24)

Alor: King/ruler (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.1)

Mandokar : virtue of a true mando. Ie Aggressive passion, loyalty, tenacity, lust for life. (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.1)

Aruetii: non mando (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.5)

Kov'nyn: Keldabe Kiss (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.9)

Adjectives

Atin: stubborn (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.13)

Verbs

nuhoy: sleep (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.13)

Aran: guard (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.18)

Eyaytir: to flee (First spoken Pt.1 Ch.18)

[silverwings22]

Caught in the Crosshairs: Chapter 47: All Around Me- Flyleaf

Series warnings: Smut, mind control, canon typical violence, childhood trauma, language, chronic illness

Chapter Warnings: Near death experiences, talk of death, talk of assisted suicide, shadow work, mentions of torture

Translations: ad'ika: little one di'kut: idiot osik: shit su runi: your soul ram'ser: sniper Jai'galaar: shriek-hawk har'chaak: Damn it buir: mother/father vor entye, ner ba'vodu: thank you, my aunt/uncle ner kar'ta: My heart shebs: ass ner ad: my child luubid: enough

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Naboo stretched warm and comforting to cradle the Havoc Marauder when they landed. Irene and Argais were already waiting for them as Tech maneuvered the ship into the large drying barn. 

"Did you tell them we were coming, Hunter?" Miria stood up from her seat, pausing to hack into her elbow. "Pardon me. The smoke on Kashyyyk didn't do me any favors."

"Easy." Hunter steadied her. "And no, I didn't tell anybody."

"I did." Echo admitted quietly. "I've been… in contact with your aunt and uncle for a couple months."

"Tattling on me. It's rude to make fun of the disabled." She didn't look too upset, smiling faintly as she cleaned the blood off her arm with a bacta wipe. Echo was immediately relieved. 

"Not if it's your sister. Then it's love." He teased.

The ramp opened and Omega trotted headlong into Argais' knees. "I missed you guys!"

"We missed you too, young one. Annalise has been baking up a storm since sunrise for your visit. And I have some new flowers to show you." He pleasantly scooped Omega onto his hip. 

Irene gave Miria a critical glance. "You look like shit, ad'ika."

"Thank you, Aunt Irene." Miria shook her head with a grimace. "I rather feel like it too, but that is why we're here."

"Well come inside. Let's get you cleaned up and we'll talk. You smell like smoke and wookiee." The Mandalorian woman sighed. 

"We did just leave Kashyyyk." 

They got into the house and Hunter sighed, a grin on his face. "Your mom's cooking smells amazing."

Miria nodded. "Mother? It's me, I'm…" Saying she was home didn't quite feel right, but it was close. This place wouldn't be home without the missing piece. "I'm back."

"Miria!" Annalise darted from the kitchen, covered liberally in flour, and wrapped her daughter in a hug. "Oh sweetheart, you're so pale! Let me get you some tea. You don't like caf, but I can make some for the boys. I sent your father to the store to get juice for Omega, but I wasn't sure what she liked so I told him to get-"

"Mother, relax. It's alright." Miria put her hands over her mother's fluttery ones. "Don't stress yourself. We're easy to please."

"That's right. You're like your uncle. Sorry, sorry…" Annalise rubbed her thumbs lightly over Miria's braces. "I just… keep hoping maybe if I can make everything perfect, you won't want to leave again."

"You know why I can't stay, Mother. Not yet." Miria shook her head. 

"Cause she's in love with a di'kut." Aram walked in, dressed in a spectacularly flowy turquoise and gold pair of haram pants and tunic. "Am I allowed to eat the cookies now? She hit me with a spoon earlier, Miri." He started to lean in for a hug and paused. "... go take a shower. All of you. I have clean clothes for you too."

"You didn't have to go to all the trouble-" Miria started.

"Yes I did. Shower. You're not getting the smell of ash and fur into my clothes. Shoo." He scolded. 

Hunter laughed. "Alright, alright. Kashyyyk had its charms, though." 

Miria walked to her room to get her new clothes. The holo-projector on the dresser had new images that rolled through now, flickering from her infancy to her last visit. Currently it was her sitting alone by the pond, the dying sunlight turning her into a silhouette. There was space in the frame for more, for the Batch and her family. For Crosshair and Mayrin. 

She picked up the dress Aram had laid out for her and went to scrub her misadventures off her skin. Plo Koon's voice followed her, an echo of when she'd been a padawan struggling to find her way. 

"If this is the path you wish, padawan mine, then pick yourself up and begin again. Are you ready?"

"Yes Master. I can do it."

A pink sundress didn't seem like an act of rebellion, even with her freshly washed and dried tac vest over it. Still Miria sat on the porch with a cup of tea, watching the sunrise over the flower fields like a soldier surveying her terrain.

"You smell better. Still look like osik, but it's an improvement." Irene chuckled, sitting down next to her. "You been up all night?"

"Yes. I wanted to… reflect." Miria said quietly. "I'm sure you think I've been stupid and stubborn, to wait until I'm on death's door to consider this."

"A little. But I'm guessing you had a reason."

"I'm afraid." Miria admitted. "All my life I've been told a Jedi doesn't fear, and I've tried to live it."

"They had their good points, and their dumb ones. The Sith are the same." Irene shrugged. "But what scares you?"

"Failure. If I take this step, there's no return. If I accept the… the darkness within me, as you say. If it's not an intruder to fight, but a part of me, then there's only three outcomes. If I succeed, I'll be whole. That's wonderful… more than I ever dared hope for. If I fall, I'll die. I don't fear death, though. The third outcome… It terrifies me."

"And what's that?" Irene knew the answer, she was pretty sure. But Miria needed to say it.

"When I was tortured on Kamino, Darth Vader showed me a vision. The outcome he wanted. In it, I was an Inquisitor. I was cold, hard as durasteel. A machine in which no parts complained, but empty. I… killed Crosshair."

"That's cruel, even for a Sith." Irene shook her head. "But do you really think you're weak enough to fall? You've proven otherwise."

"Have I?" Miria snorted. "I was the weak padawan, who struggled to master anything in the Force. I only kept to the code as long as I did because I knew nothing better. Until the Batch, I was alone. It's easy not to have attachments when nobody wants you."

"The code isn't a testament to strength. Don't look at the body that fails you. Look at su runi, your soul. Why did you join the war?" Irene was unusually gentle now, making her point in a way the younger woman would understand. 

"To protect my students…" Miria frowned. It was hardly as noble in her mind as those who fought for freedom and democracy, but it had been her reason. 

"And why did you stay when it got hard? You'd have been within your rights to return to the Temple, considering your health."

"The Batch. I couldn't abandon them when they wouldn't abandon me."

"And why you haven't come back to the farm to stay? Even if you don't do this, it'd be a more comfortable place to die." Irene's native bluntness returned. "You want something so badly that you'd rather fight to the death than give up on it."

Miria looked dead ahead, brow furrowed. "Yes… Crosshair. I thought I'd… be content with a last goodbye. But I'm not. I want a hello. A beginning, something that can't be snatched away. I want a future. I want Mayrin."

"Mayrin?" Irene raised an eyebrow. 

"Our daughter.” Miria whispered. “I've… seen her in the Force. She said I needed hope. She was right…" 

Irene nodded. "If you die, there won't be a Mayrin. And the rest of the Batch will follow you to your grave shortly. Including your ram'ser."

Miria looked at Irene. "If I don't try, she'll never live. I've been paralyzed by the fear of failure, but… I have to try."

"I've been waiting for you to say that." Irene stood up, offering Miria a hand. "Come on. Your pain ends as it began."

Miria took the Mandalorian’s hand and was hauled to her feet, leaving her still-steaming teacup on the porch. "Where are we going?" She asked as Irene led her to a smaller barn in the back of the property. 

"My ship. The Jai'galaar."

"Shreik-hawk…" Miria whispered. 

"Yup. And you’ve been practicing your Mando’a. The shriek-hawk was the Symbol of Clan Vizla, before a bunch of deranged cultists made us look bad." Irene opened the barn door. There was a forge smelter in the corner and she grabbed something off it before opening the hatch of a sleek black ship. "It was mine when I was Darth Imperia."

Miria stepped aboard, leaning on the wall to catch her breath at the steep ramp. Irene patted her back as she got her bearings. The inside of the ship definitely matched her idea of what a Sith would fly; dark metal studded with glowing red buttons and inscriptions in a language she coldn’t read but gave her a weird feeling. It was a small gunship, designed to be maneuverable. The cargo hold was essentially a closet in the back of the cockpit, with a claustrophobic fresher and bunkroom barely bigger than a closet. The ramp had opened directly into the cockpit, so Miria eased into the co-pilot’s seat beside Irene as the older woman guided the ship out of the barn before the wings unfolded. It was a rapid and surprisingly silent ascent. “I expected the engines to be louder for such an old ship, Aunt Irene.”

“It’s a stealth ship, and I’ve taken care of it and upgraded it over the years. The Jai’galaar will outfly that Omicron of yours, no matter how many modifications Tech and Echo slap on. And it can cloak.” Irene bragged. “That’s been pretty useful getting around the galaxy under the Empire’s nose collecting beskar. I’ve been busy.” 

Miria nodded, rubbing her chest. “Perhaps I should have worn my armor, instead of a dress?” 

“You won’t need it where we’re going.” Irene assured her as they broke the atmosphere of Naboo and hit hyperspace. 

“And where is that?” Miria rubbed the leather of her thigh bag thoughtfully. 

“Thule. There’s more than one Sith Temple there, but the one in the City of Hurom should do just fine.” 

Before Miria could express her misgivings about going to a Sith Temple, there was a squawk and startle from the hold behind them. “A Sith Temple!?”

Irene froze, looking at her niece with faint horror in her eyes. “Is that…”

“Aram?” Miria blinked back at her. “I think so.”

Irene groaned and walked over, opening the hold door. Aram’s lanky figure was crouched inside, where he’d been clearly trying to keep himself from falling over when they started moving. “Har’chaak, Aram! What are you doing on my ship?!”

“Well, I was looking for that holocron I heard you mention the other day. Now I’m apparently going on an adventure.” He shrugged. 

Miria raised an eyebrow at her aunt. “You have a Sith holocron?”

“I have a lot of old relics.” Irene sighed. “Dammit, Aram. I was not planning on taking you for this.” 

“But I’ve always wanted to go on an adventure with you. You won’t let me come on the beskar roundup.” The young man smiled, scooting past her to sit on the floor between the pilot and co-pilot’s seats. 

“You’d better listen to every word I say.” Irene growled. 

“Of course, Buir.” He gave her a cheeky smile. "So why are we taking Miri to Thule? She's kind of…" 

"Dying?" Miria chuckled. "This would be a last ditch effort to save my life. It's why I returned to Naboo."

"Oh good. I'd miss you." He leaned against her leg. Her skin was mottled with bruises and she had to carefully pat his hair to avoid getting her braces tangled in it. 

"I'd miss you too, Aram. I'm not ready to die yet." She paused to cough into her elbow before looking at Irene with watery eyes. "Will you make me a promise? Both of you?"

"Of course." Aram said immediately. Irene nodded. 

"If I fail…" Miria said slowly. "If I am consumed by the Dark Side, you must kill me. I can stand the thought of dying as long as I tried my best. But I can't let myself become something that hurts others. So if it comes to that, I need you to protect them. From me, if you must."

Aram looked horrified. Irene reached over and put a hand on his arm. "You have my word as a Mandalorian."

"How do I thank you in Mando’a? I haven't learned as much as I'd like… Crosshair and I never had the time."

"Vor entye, ner ba'vodu." Aram looked at his mother. "It's 'thank you, my aunt or uncle'."

"Vor entye, ner ba'vodu." Miria repeated. "If I succeed, will you teach me more? I'd like to surprise Crosshair… I think he'd like that."

"When, not if. I'll have you so fluent you blow your troopers mind." Her cousin promised.

"You haven't even met him and you want to play a prank on him?" Miria smiled. 

"He did make you cry. But you love him, so the policy is to confuse instead of abuse." 

"You'll love him too. I'm sure of it." She flexed her hands, looking at the braces. She ached to put her ring back on…

"You look sad again." Aram nudged her. 

"It's alright, Aram." She breathed. 

They sat in silence, Miria watching the lights in hyperspace for a long time. Slowly she smiled and fumbled into a small bag she'd been carrying on her hip, one he saw her with everywhere. It was sturdy leather, decorated with stars and moons. He couldn't resist eying it appreciatively, his love for fashion and accessories shining through. "Where'd you get that?"

Miria chuckled. "It was just a sachel from the Temple… but Crosshair took one of my doodles and traced it into the leather." She rubbed the design gently with her numb fingers. "When I joined the council. We'd just celebrated our first anniversary together… I had to be in meetings for hours, and I guess he got bored. Boredom was dangerous for that man… but sometimes he could use it constructively." She opened it and pulled out a sheet of flims

 "I keep my favorite of his letters and my lightsaber in it when I'm off the Marauder. "

"Letters. That's almost romantic." Irene smirked. 

"He was never good at talking about his feelings. But he could write them." Miria smiled. "Could I share this one with you? I think… I'd like to remember what I'm fighting for. Sometimes it's hard to recall, after Kamino…"

Irene nodded. Aram looked starry-eyed as she pulled the flimsi out and read it aloud.

"Ner kar'ta

We just left your Temple, and you're down in the hold with the others while I'm on watch. Usually you come sit with me, but today you're all fired up over getting to see your creche kids. You took us to meet them, and teach the younglings about the GAR. I never figured I'd be in a kid's classroom again after I graduated basic, but I think I like teaching more than I did being a student. Maybe it's the way you Jedi treat the kids… it's a lot different than how we were treated. 

You looked so good with those kids. You look good anywhere, but with them you looked more in your element than any battlefield. And they loved you. Toddlers crawling in your lap, older kids wanting to hug you and show you everything they were doing… I've never seen you so naturally do anything. You're not just good with kids. You're great. 

I keep thinking about what you said right after the mission on Tattooine. Before I gave you that ring, the first time you mentioned us getting married. I always knew you'd want kids, ever since we met Cut and Suu. But now that it's really official, I run it over in my head constantly. That you're really mine. That you'll be my wife. That we might have our own kids… I know how I am. I know what war made me, and I wonder if I'm kidding myself that it's possible more than one person could ever see more than that in me the way you do. I look at you and see a kid in your arms, and wonder if they'll hate me. 

Then I hear your voice, just like on Tattooine. 'What if they love you?'

Before I met you I thought I liked being alone. I was used to it, because I stayed in trouble as a cadet. I ended up in solitary a lot. 99 tried to bail me out way more often than I deserved. And the guys always waited for me, but I never wanted them to know just how much I hated it in there. I don't like admitting stuff bothers me. You've heard it before, weakness was used against you. But you see through me. You knew I was lonely long before you were mine. And now that you are, and we've got all these plans, I think I get it. I didn't like being alone like I thought. It was just easier. 

I'm not taking the easy way out now. If you think they'll love me, and if they're half of you, then I believe it. Maybe some of what 99 was teaching me sank in. I hope so… and I hope our kid has your eyes. 

Crosshair"

As Miria read the letter, something shimmered behind Aram and she glanced up. 

A silver haired toddler with her little thumb in her mouth was smiling at Miria, too-long sleeves pushed up her arms. She was wavery, struggling to hold her form with how weak Miria was, but Mayrin was there and listening. 

He gets his wish, if this works. She has my eyes… Miria thought, looking at the face of her future. Crosshair’s tanned skin and wider nose, her eyes, his hair, her petite figure, his smile…

"What are you staring at?" Aram turned his head, seeing nothing in the spot his cousin was watching so intently. 

"Tomorrow." Miria smiled. 

Mayrin giggled quietly, and Miria knew they couldn't see her. She wished they could, just so she could proudly tell them that this little spirit in the Force was her daughter. That her love for Crosshair made something so beautiful it could transcend birth to bring her hope when she was fading. She wondered if Mayrin would remember these moments when she came into the world, like some dream of the time before her existence. When. Not if. 

Irene watched her face thoughtfully. Whatever her niece was seeing, she loved it. It echoed bright through the Force like a full moon over placid water, reflecting and soft but clear. Miria once told her that the clone she was missing said her Force signature felt like moonlight…. He had a point. 

"Coming up on Thule." She murmured. "Ready, Miri?"

"As I will ever be." Miria straightened her back. "If this works, I will finally have the strength to rescue Crosshair from the Empire."

"What if it doesn't work…?" Aram frowned. 

"Then I don't suppose the Empire will be my problem anymore." Miria murmured. "Either I succeed, I fail and die, or I fall and you two kill me. A 33 percent chance of sucess." Her lips twitched into a slow smile. "As the Bad Batch like to say… I like those odds.

Irene set them down carefully just outside a ghostly empty city, more than half of it consumed by the massive black Temple of Hurom. "Spooky…" Aram frowned. 

"Sith seers used to gather here. They foretold the Clone Wars here, and studied dark side prophecy, before the Rule of Two." Irene explained. "The holocron I've got came from here." She led them out, leaving the blaster on her hip and instead gripping the black hilts of her twin sabers. "Stay close."

Miria left her sachel but took her own saber, clutching the recurved hilt tightly. She'd always chuckled to herself about her design, inspired by the archaic paintings of Nabooian archers she'd seen when she was a youngling. How fitting, she supposed, that she'd fallen in love with a sniper. He'd make a fine archer too, if he ever took an interest. 

She stayed close to Irene's back, Aram right behind her. She wondered if he had any combat experience… he was half Mandalorian, surely Irene had taught him something. The hallways twisted and turned, dark stone and dimly lit and ominous braisers all the light they had to see by. But Irene knew the way, huge as this place was. 

She guided them straight into a massive hall, with a raised dais in the middle of the room. The kind of place to expected to find a helpless virgin tied up as a sacrifice. "Go up the steps, Miria. You'll know what to do. We got your back." Irene murmured. 

Miria nodded, hooking her saber back to her hip. She took a shaking breath, willing every ounce of her fading strength not to fail her now. For Crosshair. For Mayrin. My team, and my family. She mounted the steps. 

It went pitch black. 

Miria went still as a slow light rose behind her, turning slowly. A tiny figure appeared, facing away from her. A child, sobbing bitterly into her hands, was crouched and helpless. The misery, abject despair and loneliness rolling off the tiny figure was suffocating within the Force. "Mayrin?" Miria frowned. 

"No!" The girl's voice was raw, as if she'd been screaming. "You love her but you don't love me! Nobody loves me!"

Miria froze when the child whipped around, tearful eyes lost and terrified. She had black hair with a tuft of white in the cut of a Jedi youngling, dressed in a fur-lined coat and mittens. Those were soaked in blood, fingers poking through and torn open. The child's eyes were lavender. 

She's… me. On Illum…

"Nobody wants me because I'm broken now." Baby Miria sobbed. "Not Aayla. Not my best friend! Nobody! You don't even want me! You forced me away. Pretended I'm not here so you can be a perfect Jedi! That's why you got sick!"

Miria stared at her child self before slowly easing onto her knees. "You… are my fear and sorrow… aren't you, little one?" She murmured. Her fears that she'd shoved down, desperate to prove herself worthy of the Temple. The pain of being left, the fear that no one would ever again value her. It stared back at her with her own eyes, demanding to be recognized. She had been so afraid of being abandoned again that she'd abandoned this part of herself into the darkness she tried to lock away. 

"You didn't want me. Nobody wants me. You tried to kill me so nobody would know." The child whispered. "Are you going to kill me now so you can be a perfect Jedi?"

Miria shook her head. "I was never perfect, little one." She held a hand out, shaking fingers gentle. "But it's not true that nobody wants you."

"W- what?" The girl wiped her tears on her bloody mittens. 

"We meet wonderful people." Miria smiled. "The best friends in the galaxy. And they know we're broken, but they love us anyway. We find a man who sees all of the imperfections, and he still wants us. Come here, please." 

"Why?" The youngling looked suspicious. 

"When we’re together, I can show you all the love I didn't give you before. I'm sorry I hurt you." Miria whispered. "I hurt us both." She held her arms open wide. 

Her fear ran into them and Miria embraced her tightly, squeezing her little body. She saw the path she could have trod, where she could have failed. How many Jedi would have struck down the child inside them if they knew it was their darkness? Before Kashyyyk, she might have. 

The child faded into her chest, and Miria started to stand when she heard a hiss. "How touching."

She looked up, again into her own eyes. This time it wasn't a child, but a grown woman in a solid black Imperial uniform. This version of her looked furious and disgusted instead of afraid. Her anger, the carefully controlled rage she'd always leashed, was snarling at her. Miria stood. "Inquisitor." She murmured politely as she understood the magnitude of the task at hand. 

"Master." The vision huffed sarcastically. "Pathetic. You're weak, you should have died out on Illum and let me lead the way. Instead, you ruined everything! You couldn't even kill Trench yourself. At least Anakin had the guts."

"Anakin became a Sith." Miria said firmly. 

"Anakin was fighting for the power to save the woman he loved. What did you do? You had Crosshair right there on Kamino. And you left him!" Her fury sneered. "He was right, in that training room. You left him. You weren't loyal to him, because your precious morals mattered too much. The jedi that left us for twenty years! You deserve your fate, and I hope it hurts. You sat around thinking you were so great, forgiving everyone. Ventress was the reason 99 died. Aayla abandoned us. And what did you do? Nothing! Because you're pathetic!" She took a looming step towards Miria, eyes burning. "Now the Empire will kill Crosshair, the only good thing we ever really had!"

Miria stood her ground. It would be so easy to attack, to reject her anger and force it to yield. To scream back that she'd had no choice, that she'd had to leave him. But she locked eyes with her mirror image. "We can save him."

"How? By forgiving Vader for maiming us when you rejected his offer?" The vision hissed. "That power could have protected him!"

"We already have the power, if we're whole." Miria murmured. "You're not just my anger. You're doubt as well. But together, we're strong enough to bring him home."

"If you'd had the guts to fight Vader on Kamino, he'd be home."

"We can't change the past. But we can direct the future. Don't you want to see Mayrin?" Miria coaxed. Even this, her darkest impulses, still loved Crosshair. She could feel the desperate desire in the Force, the rage that so much had been snatched away. The second guessing of every decision since Kaller and beyond, her self loathing blaming her for the agony. 

"Of course I do…" For a moment, the Inquisitor's clenched fists relaxed. "I'm selfish. I want them both. I'd burn the galaxy to the ground for them… more than you'd do. You don't care."

"You know I care. Remember Raxus?" Miria smiled softly. 

"... we were angry." Her rage whispered. 

"We snapped at Omega. And regretted it. But… if we worked together, wouldn't it be enough? Couldn't we save him?"

The Inquisitor looked askance. "... will I stop existing?" She whispered. "Will you?"

"We've always been a part of each other. We've just never worked together before. If we've nearly killed ourselves fighting each other, imagine what we could accomplish together?" Miria held her hand out. 

The Inquisitor slowly reached out. "I want to destroy the empire for taking him away…"

"I think destroying them is the right thing to do. For more than one reason." She grasped the gloved hand and yanked her rage into her arms, hugging her tightly. "Come home, so he can too."

The vision hugged her back. "Bitch…"

"Crosshair’s right. It does sound wrong when we swear."

They both laughed, fading into each other until Miria was hugging her arms around herself, giggling helplessly. 

"Miri! Miria!" 

She opened her eyes, startled. She wasn't standing like she thought she was, but laying on her back still hugging herself, on the Sith dais. The voice calling her was high and worried, and a humming sound she didn't immediately recognize filled the air. 

A lightsaber. Aram and Irene! 

She sat bolt upright, spotting her aunt and cousin back to back and surrounded by a thick smoke full of peering eyes. "What the hell is this, Buir?!" Aram sounded both terrified and furious, holding a handful of slender needles he'd pulled from Force knows where. 

Irene had her sabers up, the white light from the purified crystals holding the smoke at bay for now. "Sith spirits." She gritted her teeth. If Miria had fallen, they'd be hard pressed to keep their promise. If her niece was a Sith now, these tormented souls bound to the Force and temple would do her bidding and try to kill them. Irene didn't particularly want to test her meddle against a duelist like Miria with the power of the Dark Side at her command.

Miria stood, walking towards them purposefully and with something unreadable in her eyes too far away for Irene to see the color. Aram swallowed hard. "Miria." 

The little woman looked at her hands a moment, furrowed her brow, before extending her arms. The gathered darkness rumbled with momentary excitement before Miria's voice, stronger than her kin had ever heard and woven with power, thundered out. 

"They are mine!"

A brilliant purple light flashed up, forcing the inky darkness back a step. When Miria descended the steps, her eyes met Irene's. Bright eyes, alive and forceful and lavender as the setting sun.

Miria flexed her hands and snatched, the support columns around the room coming loose under her control. They broke and fell, Miria marching through the screaming shadows as the braisers tipped and the tapestries on the wall caught fire. When she reached Irene and Aram, Miria smiled. "I think it's time for us to go."

Irene nodded, grinning. "Follow me."

They took off at a breakneck pace, Miria keeping pace even with Aram's long legs. When they reached the ship, the temple was burning behind them to the sound of the screams of the damned. Irene slid into the pilots seat and hurriedly yanked them into orbit. "Did you have to set it on fire, Miri?"

The jedi laughed softly. "I'm terribly sorry, Aunt Irene. But it was a dreadful place that had outlived its use."

"Spoken like a Mandalorian." Smiled the woman, punching the coordinates into the navi-computer before turning to face Miria. Her warm, dark eyes softened on the younger woman beside her, who was smiling contentedly. "You did it…"

"Can somebody explain to me what you did?" Aram squawked indignantly. "From where I was standing you flopped over and started twitching, then giggled, and we got attacked by shadow monsters that felt like noxious gas in the Force itself!"

Miria patted his arm. "Sorry, dear. It's…. Rather difficult to describe. I saw myself, first as a frightened child and then as an angry adult. And I made peace with both of them."

"Your dark emotions." Irene mused. "I'd wondered how it would play out. How'd you get through to them?"

"The creche and Omega taught me all about how to tend to frightened younglings." Miria chuckled. "And everything I know about diffusing angry adults, I learned from Crosshair."

"He's good at handling pissed off people?" Aram raised an eyebrow. 

"Oh, Force no. He's good at being, and causing pissed off people." Miria laughed. "My darling is nothing if not intentionally antagonistic when he wants to be… like a tooka, not getting enough attention so it pushes your glass off the table while looking you dead in the eyes. "

Irene laughed so hard she snorted, holding her ribs. "I thought you loved this guy!"

Miria smiled. "I do. Love is the willingness to pick the broken glass off the floor and still pet the tooka afterwards."

Aram smiled. "I'm gonna tell him you said that."

"After all he's put me through since Kaller, he's going to have to deal with that. And I just might keep his Firepuncher." Miria chuckled. She looked at Irene. "Aunt Irene… you spoke earlier like you… knew what was happening."

Irene smiled sheepishly. "Kind of did. That holocron I mentioned… it was about you."

"Me?" Miria’s brows scraped her hairline. "I'm the subject of a Sith holocron?"

Irene nodded and looked at Aram. "Go grab it, since you were so curious earlier that you ended up on this crazy mission. Honestly, Aram. You thought you could fight Sith spirits with your hairpins?"

"They're sebon needles, Mom. And what were your lightsabers going to do? They were glorified glowsticks."

"I'm about to glorify something on your shebs, ner ad." She huffed. 

Miria sighed. "Luubid." 

That startled them enough to look at her. "You sure you need me to teach you Mando’a?"

She smirked. "I will not tell you how I learned that word. Now, that holocron please?"

Aram grumbled and got up to go get it. Irene looked at Miria. "Did you have pants on when you learned that word?"

Miria smirked. "Briefly."

Irene howled with laughter until Aram came back with the Bleecker pyramid shaped holocron and his mother took it. "Alright. Here goes nothing." She pulled a small knife from her thigh and pricked her thumb with it, offering the device a drop of blood. It opened, slow and ominous, and a hissing voice poured out that set everyone's teeth on edge. 

"Upon the dawning of our Era, a broken light will come to the temple seeking to be whole. Never were they truly belonging to the hearts that raised them, but to the blood of an ancient enemy of the Jedi. Love will be the death of duty, and lead the Broken Light to the darkness. They will face a trial, with only three outcomes. If they strike down their inner darkness, death will take them and they trouble us no more. If the darkness wins, a Sith more powerful than any before will be unleashed and create an Empire that will never end. But brethren, if balance should prevail, the temple that has stood for over a thousand years will fall before the end of the Broken Light's lifetime!"

Irene snapped the holocron closed "I've been pondering over that for over thirty years. My master had me steal it when I was young… he was obsessed with prophecy. I didn't realize it was about you until months after you came to Naboo the first time. And I knew if I tried to push it before you were ready, or influence how you took the trial, it could cause you to fail." 

Miria stared at the black pyramid in her hands. "That's why you didn't want anyone to know we were leaving, and why you agreed to kill me so readily. You already knew you might have to."

Irene nodded. "I knew your squad couldn't do it. They love you too much to pull the trigger. Argais too. Annalise and Jet might be physically capable of it, don't let the little farm wife and perfumery aesthetic fool you. She can throw knives and needles, and he's a mechanic with a working battle mech in the shed. But you're their daughter… it had to be me."

  Miria looked consideringly at the top of Irene's bowed head. She'd taken on the burden of Miria’s fate, right alongside her. Even if it meant breaking her own heart or damaging her relationship with the rest of the family… Miria put her hand on her aunt's shoulder. "Thank you." She murmured. 

Aram cocked his head. "Ba'vodu has a mech in the shed? I want to touch it."

"For the love of Manda, stop touching everything!" Irene groaned. "You're worse than your father!"

Aram grinned, happy to needle his mother now that the danger was past. Miria vacated the co-pilots seat for him, going to the hold and sitting quietly on the floor with her legs crossed. She flexed her fingers, rubbing the fabric of her dress. 

I wonder…

Force healing was a rare gift, and one she'd never had the strength to learn. But she always watched Master Che when she was in the halls of healing, the kindly twi'lek patching her up from her most recent misadventure. 

"You can, Mama." A sweet voice cooed, and she turned to look at Mayrin with a smile. 

The girl was a little older now, more than a toddler and dressed in a miniature set of blacks. Miria chuckled at the way she stood, hips cocked and sassy. Just like her father. "Well then. Let's give it a try." She murmured. 

She put her hands together, as if praying, and called out to the Force as respectfully as she knew how. If it would grant her the strength, let her ruined hands feel again so that one day they could reach out and touch her beloved's face once more… 

Please. Let my hands be his to hold. 

It was a faint purplish light, though Miria didn't see it with her eyes squeezed closed. But she felt the cool touch like running water in the desert, blessed and sustaining. And the first thing her hands had truly felt since the agony of Vader's saber had subsided. She opened her eyes and blinked. 

The angry scars persisted, but when she pressed her palms to the floor the texture of the grit there greeted her. She rubbed the tracked-in dirt between her fingers, delighted and overwhelmed tears pricking her eyes. 

"Mayrin…" She whispered. "I'll hold your hand one day, I swear. And your father's…"

"Good, Mama." The girl giggled. "He wants to come home… he's just real stubborn."

"Oh…. I'm certain." Miria smiled, tugging her braces off. They skittered in the metal floor where she'd dropped them, but she ignored the sound in favor of pulling the cord from her neck and bringing her ring out of the pouch. The silver was cool against her skin when she slipped the ring back on. It belonged there, it would warm again. "But I'm stubborn too."

"Good." Mayrin grinned. "You gonna need it."

[silverwings22]

Angel With A Shotgun: Chapter 20: Buir be'koty

Series warnings: Smut, language, Order 66, medical trauma, abuse, Canon typical violence

Chapter Warning: vomiting, pregnancy/childbirth, slavery, mentions of abortion, chronic pain due to injury, homicidal rage

Translations: buir be'koty: mother of glory

Vor entye: "I accept a debt", a thank you

ad'ika: little one

Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum: I know/love you for eternity

Koty (also spelled kote): glory

kar'ta: heart

Previous Chapter: https://silverwings22.tumblr.com/post/669965293254246400/angel-with-a-shotgun-chapter-19-blood-to-drown

Next Chapter: https://silverwings22.tumblr.com/post/669967646462181376/angel-with-a-shotgun-chapter-21-gone-with-the

Angel retched violently over the side of her bunk, groaning as she emptied the contents of her stomach into a chamberpot. Lisha looked sympathetically through the bars as she coughed and flopped back on the durasteel frame. “Are you alright, Miss?”

“First he puts a kriffing collar on me. Now that bastard’s poisoning my food.” She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand weakly. “Every fucking morning for weeks now.”

Lisha frowned. “Only in the morning?”

Angel forced herself to sit upright, pressing a hand against the stone wall to steady her reeling head. “Yeah… guess he wants to see me sick all fucking day so he starts with breakfast…”

“No one’s touched your food, Miss. I’ve been making it myself every morning before I bring it to you.” Lisha’s brows furrowed deeply. “I’ve seen this before.”

“Great. What’s wrong with me? How long before I die?” Angel muttered tiredly. “Did I pick up some fever from the desert? Or this kriffing cell?”

“Miss… I think you’re pregnant.”

Angel froze, eyes widening. Pregnant… Boba…

“I can bring you something… to take care of it. No child should be born a sl-”

“No!” There was a suddenly sharpness in Angel’s voice, a life Lisha hadn’t seen since she’d arrived. She curled around her stomach protectively, hands pressed against the bare skin. “If I am, then it’s Boba’s child. It must live.” She murmured. “I won’t kill it.”

“Fortuna will use a child against you. You must know that.” Lisha fretted. “If he doesn’t try to kill it himself.”

“He’ll have to kill me first and cut this child out of me.” Angel softened, a glimmer of the woman she must have been beneath the beskar and suffering that had laid her bare and prickly to the twi’lek in the last weeks. “We wanted… we were trying. This child is his last gift to me… I have to bring it into the world. I have to protect it, raise it…” Her voice hitched a little. “Carry him with me, growing under my heart… I’ll find a way out of here, and raise a little Fett… one day, we’ll come back and destroy him. I’ll have that throne, with a Fett at my side, and Boba will be avenged with every breath his child breathes.”

“Miss, even if you don’t do anything there’s a chance it won’t stay… you have to be prepared for that too.”

“Then it won’t be because I didn’t try.” She nodded, pressing a little harder against her stomach. “I… don’t know much about pregnancy or childbirth, Lisha… I didn’t have a mother. I only had brothers, and…” she bit her lip. It galled to ask, but she could lay her pride down at the feet of a good woman for a chance to see Boba’s son or daughter come to life. “W-will you help me…?”

Lisha nodded, crouching by the bars and sticking her arm into the cell. “Come here, dear. You’re trembling.”

Angel hadn’t realized she was, but she slid from her bunk to the floor and crawled to Lisha, gripping her little purple fingers weakly. “I… I’m afraid.” She admitted. “But I have to try, it’s all that’s left of him… all that’s left of us. He was everything, and now this… this is everything I have left in the galaxy. This little spark of hope….”

Lisha nodded, looking meaningfully at Angel. “Motherhood is no easy task, even without a collar and master like Fortuna.” She whispered, stroking the tanned flesh of Angel’s palm with her thumb. “You’re not choosing an easy path, Angel.”

“I don’t care. If this child lives, so does Boba. So do I. I… I’ve felt so dead inside. Like there was nothing left in me. No color or life. But it could come back… I could live for his baby.”

“It’s your baby too, dear. But I’ll help you. I’ll deliver the little one myself if I have to.” Lisha smiled. “I’ve done it a time or too, before I ended up here. I used to live on a farm, with a big family and lots of little ones running around.”

“What happened…?” Angel frowned.

“My father, our patriarch… ran up a lot of gambling debts. Jabba decided his debts were the family’s debts. We were all sold, and separated. It was over thirty years ago.”

“I’ll find a way to get you free too, no matter how long it takes. I swear. You…” she smiled. “You’ve been so kind. I’m not… used to it. But I’m grateful, I swear.”

Lisha nodded. “You’re a good woman, I see it in your eyes. I’ll help you.”

“Vor entye.” Angel whispered.

“I’m afraid I don’t speak your language, dear.”

“It’s… Mando’a. It means that I accept a debt to you. It’s how we give thanks.”

Lisha patted her wrist. “Brave thing you are. I hope this child is as strong as its mother.”

“If it is half as strong as its father, it will be twice what I’ve ever been.” Angel said resolutely, resting her forehead on the bars and letting Lisha squeeze her hands.

She closed her eyes, reaching for the little blossom of life sparkling like polished beskar inside her through the Force. Are you there, ad’ika? I’m here. I’ll protect you.

Her sense of the Force was addled from the burning anger that had disoriented and upset her crystal, but she felt it. Reaching out like tiny fingers outstretched to hold her hand. It was wordless, languageless and pure as starlight. Still, she felt the innocent and uncomplicated love it felt for her, the only thing it knew. I’m here, ad’ika. I am your mother, and I will love you to my last breath. I know you. I love you. Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.

2 ABY

Lisha was right. Pregnancy was no easy feat, especially with Bib Fortuna around. He had seethed when her belly swole, oscillating wildly between threatening to kill the child the second it was born and using it to gain her compliance. Angel, bolstered by impending motherhood and hope, stared him down with eyes colder than Hoth until he was shivering and ordering her back to the cell.

And there she remained. Lisha was ordered to tend to her, an order she suspected the older twi’lek had bribed or bargained to get. While she couldn’t get into the cell, she still was able to haul water and do little things for Angel like wash her hair while the younger woman leaned against the cell bars or sneak her little salty foods she knew Angel craved. Today, she’d gotten her hands on some pickled fruits Angel liked, and was checking her swollen belly while Angel nibbled them slowly. Angel was about six months along if her guess of when it had happened was correct, and looked like someone had stuffed her own helmet under her skin. She absently traced the purple stripes adorning the skin of her belly and hips, where her growing child had forced the skin to stretch. They’d fade to silver white, she had had them before along her shoulders from the rapid growth from infancy to teenagerhood on Kamino. Still, it was itchy.

“It’s funny… I never used to like sour stuff.” She murmured, looking at her hands stained greenish red with the juices. “Boba used to pick me up sweets when we were off world.”

“You loved him dearly, didn’t you? I hear the way you talk about him…”

“He was everything to me. All I had when I lost my brothers… and he saw me for myself. He made me feel special, even when I felt like I was nothing but a flawed brother.” She sighed. “He gave me the side of him no one else got… and he wanted this baby as much as I do.” Her voice was soft, wavery with a ring of longing. “He should have been here. He would have been the best father in the galaxy… he practically worshipped his own father’s memory.”

“Do you believe in spirits, Angel?” Lisha reached through the bars to rub balm on Angel’s sore skin kindly.

“Sort of… Jango, Boba’s dad, told me about a place called Manda. A place all the great warriors go, to sit with the great kings of the past or something. It’s a great honor… I bet Jango’s up there, with Boba, and they’re both complaining because I’m telling a stranger they had feelings.”

Lisha nodded, smiling a little. “We never really lose the ones we love, even when we feel lost. They walk hand in hand with us for the rest of our days, and welcome us when it’s our time to join them. One day, you’ll be back with your beloved, and your brothers… and you’ll walk alongside your child until they join you too.”

Angel smiled sadly. “You really think so?”

“I know so. And so do you. I know that crystal stuck in your chest has some kind of magic in it. I don’t know a lot, but I think it makes you very, very special.”

The clone leaned her head forward, touching her forehead shyly to Lisha’s through the gap in the bars. “Thank you…. I needed to hear that.”

“I know, dear. Now finish your snack, I brought you some fresh linens so you can rest better. Just a little longer before your little one comes, we can’t let your strength fail now.”

Angel nodded, rubbing her belly gently. A little kick under her hand brought a smile to her face. She had no idea how she was going to birth a child in a cell with her only aid trapped outside the bars… but she’d figure something out. They’d made this work for all this time…

Lisha patted her tattooed shoulder. “You’re going to be okay. I knitted you a sling to carry the little one in on your back, once they’re here.”

“You’re lovely.” Angel chuckled. “I think I’d be lost without you.”

The contractions started late at night, while Angel was alone. She knew it had to be now, even though by her guesses she was still three weeks from when Lisha said the baby would be due. But there was no time to do math on this, only time to try to settle her breathing and focus on bringing her child into the world.

"Come on, Angel. Deep breath and push." She whispered to herself, white knuckling the edge of the bed when another contraction hit. She’d been listening to Lisha, the closer they got together the sooner it was over. And according to how her body was screaming at her, this little one was inbound fast… If there was a more fitting way for Boba Fett’s child to be born, she couldn’t think of it.

She didn't know much about childbirth, so she could only comfort herself with thoughts that Boba would be proud of both her and the infant as she sucked in a sharp breath and gritted her teeth once again.

What had Lisha said? "Pants off, lay back, when you feel a contraction you push.

Angel huffed out a weak chuckle. Fuck, she was lost… how the hell was she actually going to do thi- She gasped again, doubling over and biting her lip until it bled.

Boba, I wish you were here. You should be able to meet your child…

She didn't scream when it felt like she was ripping apart, but she did squeeze her eyes shut and felt movement between her shaking knees.

When she heard a tiny, piercing scream her eyes opened.

It was a squalling bundle of bunched fists and dark hair. Carefully she gathered the child up and lay it on her chest, tiny and sticky with her blood. After a moment of reeling from the adrenaline of holding her baby, she gently turned them in her arms to get a good look.

“A boy…” She smiled faintly, her own hair stuck to her forehead with sweat. A son. She had a son... "Koty." She breathed. "Koty Fett…"

The baby looked up towards the sound of her broken voice, sniffling. His skin was tanned as her own, damp fluff sticking up on his head in jet black and already starting to curl. His eyes were blue as her crystal in his cute, chubby face. She kissed his damp forehead. "Mama's got you. " she murmured.

Koty. Glory in Mando’a, and the name her dearest brother Cody had been trying to get and had recorded wrong by the Kaminoans.

It didn’t take the Fettling long to decide what he wanted and he rooted against her chest in search of breakfast until she pulled her top askew to let him latch. She was half high on the rush of endorphins from holding him, and wobbly with bloodloss. She had only her teeth to cut the cord, and spat blood before wiping her face on the back of her hand and kissing his little fluffy head.

Koty wobbled a little uncoordinated hand up to hold a fistful of her sweaty hair, oddly comforting as he nursed and dribbled milk everywhere. She curled her fingers around his head.

She lay back her son nursed with tiny grumpy noises and pulled a blanket over them both so he didn’t chill in the coldness of the desert nights and the drafty cell. This was okay, the hard part over… right?. She could do this, she could raise this boy…

But her heart ached under the joy of her sons birth. They were still trapped here, twice as helpless as before with him no longer in the sheltering safety under her heart. And even if she freed them… there was no way to ever give them back what would make their little family complete. Boba would never be there.

A year. A kriffing year before he was healed enough to leave the Tuskan camp, armorless and scarred. Boba had awoken in pain, tended by a kind mother who'd explained in broken basic that they'd found him in the sand. They couldn't tell him where his armor was, only that he'd been stripped to his flight suit and left to die in the sands of Carkoon. But he was a fighter, he was a Fett.

Slowly he'd healed, and his rescuers had cared for him well. He'd asked anxiously for information the men brought back, a constant stutter in his heartbeat when he wondered what had become of her.

His time with the Tuskans had mellowed him some. He watched them with their families, their faith and worship of water curious to him. Sometimes new little ones would peek in his tent, or teenagers would help him pack up to load a bantha when it was time to move. It made him ache to return to Angel. He'd promised her something like this, even if he’d always been a hardened man. He’d given her this dream, and now tasted it himself without her beside him. It was wrong. All he thought about was her.. What she'd look like as a bride… all the things he wanted and had buried bubbling up like a hidden spring.

So he diligently worked to recover, and listened to the news. Jabba was dead, and there were whispered rumors he’d been strangled by a slave and a Mandalorian with a lightsaber.. Huttslayer Leia and Angel.

The words warmed a place under his ribcage, untouched by the sarlacc. His brave, beautiful Angel was a worthy bride and he would make it so as soon as he could get to her. And the girl she’d believed in, the princess Leia, was strong too. To kill a Hutt was no easy feat, even with the aid of a Mandalorian. Angel had been right about her… and the Luke kid. He should never have gotten involved with the Empire, should have known her sense of justice would kick in while he was trying to curry favor with the underworld’s king.

She couldn’t be far. Either the Krayt’s Claw hideout, or at Jabba’s palace. His ship had been seen there, so he’d look there first when he was able. Knowing Angel, she was there trying to dismantle the nonsense Jabba had left behind and to free slaves. She’d always been so strong in her convictions, and he regretted every time he’d muttered under his breath that she was softhearted. She was brave, and he had been careless with it.

When it was time, he donned new clothes and was given a gaffi stick as a parting gift.

"Where go?" The matronly Tusken who'd mostly cared for him asked. "Stay. Tribe stronger with you. Hunter. Friend. "

"I have to get my… my kar'ta. My heart." He explained quietly. "And my father's armor, and ship." His scarred fingers flexed on the stick, thinking.

There was still a lingering, bone deep pain that dogged his every step. Some things wouldn't heal, but they'd lessen with time or he'd learn to bear it. A sarlacc wasn't meant to be survived, so he accepted his ruined flesh with steady breaths as his price to be reborn.

"Boba… good man. Good brother. " the matron murmured. "Find heart, grow stronger. Remember friends."

He nodded. "I will remember."

Her masked face dipped a nod. "Take bantha. Let free when ready. Will come home."

He nodded again, using the gaffi stick as a crutch to walk out of the tent.

Angel…

His ship looked like it hadn’t moved in the year he’d been gone. Boba didn’t like that at all, seeing his father’s ship and his home half buried in sand. Where was Angel? She was usually meticulous about keeping the ship clean… hell, she even resisted smoking on it when he knew she was fiending hard for tabac, just because he didn’t like the ash or smell lingering in the ship.

He pulled his hood more securely up and moved with a crowd of merchants into the palace. He had to find her, because something was wrong.

It didn’t seem much had changed, dancers and drink tray carrying servants milling around between the opulent and gritty characters of Tattooine. Bib Fortuna was seated on the throne, a twi’lek dancer on his knee, laughing at something the new king was saying with a simpering smile. But it wasn’t the occupant of the throne that drew Boba’s eyes. It was what was bolted to the wall behind the throne.

Mandalorian armor, in sky blue and white, with wings painted on the pauldrons. He knew that armor, he’d spent years cleaning it along with his own or touching up her paint as a surprise when she was too bone-weary to do it herself. That was Angel’s armor.

She’d never have given it up, and no one here would have challenged her even on Fortuna’s orders with it on. That left only a single, agonizing option…. By some trick or trap, Bib Fortuna had killed her.

Angel was dead.

Cold fury leveled into Boba’s stomach at the realization. He wanted to tear Fortuna apart with his bare hands, but he was unarmored with only a gaffi stick… He turned slowly, looking back at the helmet that once cradled the face he’d loved more than anything in the galaxy. He’d be back, once he found his fathers armor. And Bib Fortuna would pay for Angel’s life and the lifetime of loneliness he’d inflicted on Boba.

One day, he would sit in that throne while Bib Fortuna begged for his life at his feet. And he would deny him.

[silverwings22]

Angel With A Shotgun: Chapter 26 The Best People Are

Series warnings: Smut, language, Order 66, medical trauma, abuse, Canon typical violence

Chapter Warnings: discussion of trauma, brief discussion of sex work, grief, guilt

Translations: ad'ika: Little one

jetii'ika: little Jedi

jetii: Jedi

Vor entye: thank you

Burc'ya vaal burk'yc, burc'ya veman: a friend during danger is a true friend

Burc'ya: friend

Su hukaatii'su shebs ti kama: I'm watching your back

Kaysh mirsh solus: "His brain cell is lonely", he's an idiot

osi'yaim: Useless, despicable person

Munit tome'tayl, skotah iisa, vod: long memory, short fuse, brother

Previous chapter: https://silverwings22.tumblr.com/post/670059636082278400/angel-with-a-shotgun-chapter-25-darmanda

Next Chapter: https://silverwings22.tumblr.com/post/670215410004672512/angel-with-a-shotgun-chapter-27-aliit

"Stay here." Angel murmured quietly, tucking both children securely into Mandos bunk room. They were meeting Mando’s mercenary contact, and they weren’t safe around these people. “I know you’re gonna hear voices, but you gotta be real quiet and not say anything. These people are dangerous. Understand, ad’ika?”

Koty nodded. “We’ll be real quiet, Mama. We’ll take a nap.”

She smiled. “Very good. It should be a short mission, but they’ll be on the ship a little while. So just don’t mess with Mando’s things and stay out of trouble.”

He smiled. “Okay.”

She leaned over and kissed his curls, doubling down to kiss Grogu’s little green noggin too. “You behave too, jetii’ika.”

Grogu made an emphatic little noise and toddled further inward with Koty to climb on Mando’s bunk and snuggle down for a nap. She sealed them in and put her helmet on, looking back at the gleaming stack of beskar behind her. “You’re good with them.” Mando mused.

“Like you’re not a total softie for Grogu.” She chuckled.

“You never told me how you knew his name, by the way.”

It was true enough. They’d been travelling together for only two weeks, long enough to get from Tattooine to this space station with only a single stop for fuel. Credits were tight right now, the only reason Mando had agreed to do this admittedly insane trip with his old mercenary crew he had seemed unwilling to discuss with her beyond a warning they were dangerous. “We haven’t talked much.” She shrugged. “I kinda forgot.”

“We’ve got a half hour til we get there.” He cocked his helmet to the side.

Angel sighed and tapped the crystal peeping out of the honeycomb in her chest. “Jetii kyber crystal. They’re alive and in tune with the Force… the energy of the galaxy. The longnecks grafted one into my chest when I was a test subject. So I can connect the way the kid can… Koty can do it too. It passed between us while I was pregnant, I guess. That’s why his eyes are blue, I think, because his dad had the same eyes I do.”

“Because you were both clones.” Mando pondered aloud.

“Yeah.”

“That’s not weird to you? You think of the others as your brothers, but not him?”

She tapped the crystal again. “With this, I can feel people’s… I guess you’d say I can feel their soul. No matter how much he looked like my brothers, he felt different. He was different… it wasn’t weird between us. We were made for each other, in a way. A collection of mistakes that fell together to create something beautiful.”

He crossed his arms, clearly thinking hard. “I’ve seen the kid do some things I can’t explain. Move stuff without touching it… can you do that?”

“I used to. But… these crystals can be corrupted. Anger, pain… they can cause them to go dark. They call it ‘bleeding’ the crystal. When Boba died, I distanced myself from using my abilities so I wouldn’t hurt mine. It’s alive, and we’re connected… I didn’t want it to suffer because I was suffering. I started slowly trying again after I got free, but I haven’t done much. The feelings are still… raw. Wild, and hard to control. Until I can guarantee I won’t bleed it in a fit of fury and grief, I’ll have to be careful. I had a Jedi master teaching me, but I’m Mandalorian at heart. It’s a hard line to walk.”

Mando nodded. “That’s… responsible of you. And tells me a lot about the kind of woman you are.”

She chuckled. “I don’t try to hide it. I’m not always a good person, but I try.”

He nodded and patted her pauldron. “That’s good enough. I haven’t… always been a good person myself. That’s why I left the crew we’re about to run into. They were bringing out the worst in me, and that’s not the kind of man I wanted to be.”

“Everyone’s got to have a code to live by. You made the choice to choose a different one. I don’t blame you for that.” She inclined her head. “You should have seen the hell Boba and I raised when we were young.”

He chuckled. “How the hell old are you, anyway?”

She pondered a minute, doing math. “Thirty seven?”

“Damn, you aged pretty well.”

She huffed. “Oh shaddup. I was fourteen when I was two, then shit got weird.”

He snorted. “Clone thing for weird magic rock thing?”

“Honestly? No clue. Might be the massive doses of adrenals I was taking for a couple years as a test subject. I’ve overdosed more times than I can count, and that was before the rock. Childhood was not fun.”

That seemed to sober him. "Sorry…"

"It's alright, big guy" She patted his arm and strapped on a veritable arsenal of blasters and blades.

"You expecting a warzone?" He eyed her thoughtfully.

"It is what I'm most familiar with. And I don't trust mercs." She shrugged. "They don't tend to have the honor you've shown so far."

He nodded again and she leaned against his bunk door. For a second he swore he saw her crystal glitter and glow in the low light on the Crest. "What are you doing?" he muttered.

"Putting them to sleep." She murmured. "So I told you about my rock. How'd a nice Mandalorian like you end up working with mercenaries?"

He watched the almost mechanical way she inspected her blasters. "I was… raised in the Fighting Corps. When I grew up, I was looking for something to do and fighting was all I knew. It seemed exciting at the time."

"Fast ships, cheap booze, pretty women?" She chuckled. "Maker, I hated those days."

"One of the people we're going to deal with is… she and I were involved for a while."

"Bad breakup?"

"I may have put her brother in jail."

"Yikes. She's gonna double cross us." Angel said it emphatically, without a hint of joking in her eyes. "I wouldn't be surprised if this whole things a setup."

"Ran wouldn't-" Mando started.

"Women have plenty of ways to get what they want." She chuckled quietly.

"Why do I feel like you know this from personal experience?"

She chuckled. "I've caught a couple bounties while posing as a stripper in my younger years. Boba always hated those jobs, but he did love the outfits."

"You're strange, Angel"

"The best people are."

"So…" the twi'lek hissing in Angel's ear was costing her what precious little sanity she had left. "How'd you meet Mando? "

Mando was in the cockpit dealing his displeasure at a pilot droid, leaving Angel in the hold with her back against the bunk door. None of the mercs knew what precious cargo she was guarding but her. Her helmet was impassive, not even looking at Xi'an when she answered. "Work."

"You're not very interesting conversation. What was your name, anyway?" The human sniper eyed her sideways.

"Angel. Angel Gar." She finally shifted her head a fraction towards him.

"Heard you either died or retired years ago." Mayfeld raised an eyebrow.

"Had some business to attend to."

"So you and Mando-" he started with a smirk.

"No. Helmet gets in the way, don't you think?" Her shoulders tensed, the filters in her helmet tracking every twitch around her. She had six shots lined up on every single one of them at minimum.

"What, can't you guys take them off?"

"I can. He can't." She shrugged. "Different types of Mandalorians."

"Don't you ever get curious? What's he hiding under there?" Mayfeld grinned. Above them, Angel heard the boot steps as Mando started descending the ladder. Her scanner caught both the human and devaronians eyes drifting towards him.

She had a pretty good idea of where those thoughts went.

"Eyes on me, Mayfeld." She said so sharply even Mando turned to look. "The rifle on my back is an Amban disintegration blaster. I can have it up and firing in under a half second. It's my preferred method of eliminating a target because it's so easy to clean up after, you just sweep your target right off the floor." She leaned in, hands clasped in her lap. "If any member of your crew attempts to remove Mandos' helmet, I will disintegrate you for their mistake since you are the leader. Are we clear?"

He nodded, eyes wide. Angel just leaned back, helmet cocked to the side as Mando sat down beside her. "Vor entye."

"Burc'ya vaal burk'yc, burc'ya veman." Angel shrugged nonchalantly.

Mando kind of liked the sound of that. Burc'ya…. Friend. It had been a while since he'd either been or had a friend.

When they arrived at a New Republic prison ship, Angel frowned. This…. Didn't seem right at all. But she'd done more questionable things for less pay and she followed Mando to the docking hatch.

"Su hukaatii'su shebs ti kama." She murmured. She expected a betrayal and figured Mando'a was the safest way to talk.

Mando nodded and opened the hatch, sliding down the ladder. Angel dropped after him gracefully, keeping her word and watching his back. They scoped halls, watching the devaronian trash the warden droids. Angel crossed her arms and leaned back on one hip. "Kaysh mirsh solus."

He had to try not to laugh. "Bridge is this way." He pointed, catching Mayfeld's attention.

Xi'an darted past his arm onto the bridge, followed by Mayfeld and the dumb muscle. Mando looked at Angel, the woman with her arms crossed. She shook her head and walked onto the bridge…. And into a standoff.

A frightened looking young man in a dumb looking hat was holding a blaster and a distress beacon, thumb on the button.

Oozy dark colors were plastered all over the Force when Angel let herself look. The scared officer, the wicked delight from Xi'an, Mayfelds rattled nerves. She held a hand up, weapons still in their holsters. "Hey. Hey, easy. What's your name?"

"D-davan…"

"Davan. Okay, Davan. Nobody's gotta get hurt-" Silver shone in her periphery and Angel's hand moved faster than thought.

Xi'an had thrown a knife directly towards the New Republic officer, and it hovered ominously an inch from Angel's fingertips, caught in the Force. "You may not. " she whispered sharply, plucking the knife from the air.

Davan gaped at her. "You're a Jedi?"

"I'm a lot of things. Please give me that distress beacon."

He shakily held it out. Angel gently pulled it from his fingers. "Now lock yourself in the bridge here, okay?" She had her blaster up, pointed at Mayfeld. "Back out of the room. Now."

He pointed his guns at her. Mando had his weapons up when he heard a low chuckle. "Really? You really think this is a good idea? You Just saw me stop that knife with my mind." Her fingers flexed and all of Mayfeld's guns snatched from his hands. She shoved back with the unseen power, hurling him and his two companions out the door. "Cut their comms, Mando."

Mando glanced at Davan. "Just…. Wait here."

He nodded, dazed and pliant, and Mando left him as he cut the comms and went after them.

Angel was a force of nature, slinging the three hapless mercenaries against walls and the floor. "How fucking dare you!" She snarled. "Barely more than a kid, and you osi'yaim-"

They were pressed into a wall, whimpering, and her helmet cocked to the side as she looked into the cell behind them. Another purple twi'lek, this time a Male, was looking out curiously.

Mando stiffened behind her. "Qin."

"So this is the target." Angel hissed.

"Looks like it. " Mando murmured.

"Take him out and cuff him." Angel ordered quietly. The taller Mandalorian nodded and opened the cell door. Mando yanked out their prize and Angel shoved the other three into the cell, shutting in sharply. "Drag him back to the ship."

Mando just obeyed numbly, watching her turn on her heel and storm back to the bridge. He took Qin and hauled him back to the Crest, cuffing him to the wall.

Angel went back to Davan and leaned over him. "Are you okay?" He watched her slowly pull her helmet off and kneel in front of him. "They didn't hurt you? "

"N-no…"

"Good. You just rest, okay? They're locked in a cell, you call for reinforcements when you're ready."

"Th- thanks, ma'am…. Who are you? I want to tell them what you did for me…"

"I'm no one special. Just a simple woman, making my way through the galaxy with my son.." She smiled a little and patted his hand. "My name is Angel. Take care of yourself, Davan."

Before he could say anything else she pulled her helmet back on and darted down the hall.

He sat there a long minute, watching the shiny silver ship detach from the prison and take off, before realizing she still had the kriffing distress beacon!

Ran eyed the two Mandalorians as Mando shoved Qin towards him. "What happened to the others?"

"No questions asked, right?" Mando shrugged.

Angel's visor was unforgiving as she stared him down. "Pay up so we can go."

Ran chuckled. "I like you, Miss. Sure you won't stick around?"

"I'm sure." She caught the bag of credits he tossed her way and shook her head. Then she ushered Mando back into his ship. "Fly. Quickly."

"What's the deal, Angel?" He wasn't accusatory, but genuinely concerned.

"They're going to attack us… and I put the New Republic distress beacon in the twi'leks pocket."

His helmet swiveled to hers a moment before he was running up the ladder. "Kriffing hell, Angel!"

"Munit tome'tayl, skotah iisa, vod." He heard her chuckle.

"I kriffing see that!"

They took off at a breakneck pace, just as a deployment of X-wings clipped out of hyperspace and started firing on the base.

Angel took her helmet off slowly and set her armor down piece by piece before going to his bunk and opening the door. Koty and Grogu were still peacefully napping, so she scooped them both up and carried them to her hammock, snuggling them to her chest.

Mando came back down after a while, fuming. "What the hell were you thinking-?!"

"Shh. They're asleep." Angel said gently, rocking the boys.

Mad as he was, the Mandalorians voice dropped. "You could have gotten us all killed."

"I didn't activate the beacon until we were almost at the station. They would have come after us."

"You could have told me the plan."

She sighed. "It wasn't…. Really a plan. Just a quick idea… there wasn't much time." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I just… I had a bad feeling in the Force, and then she tried to kill that kid and I…" her teeth sank down on her bottom lip. "I thought about them. My brothers. Watching those CT numbers, the channels go quiet as they were destroyed one by one. They didn't have a chance and neither did that kid and…"

Mando sighed. "You couldn't save them. So you had to save him. "

"My life's been one slaughter after another since the war started." She whispered. "I thought I was doing right by saving Boba. But I lost him. I lost my brothers, my armor, my freedom… the only good thing I've ever done was this…" her fingers curled through her son's dark hair. "I had every chance to do good and except for him I've fucked it up every time, Mando. I was given gifts and I never once did more than use them as another weapon… I just want to help someone for once in my life. I just want to be good. I just…" A shiny track of tears rolled down her cheeks. "I'm the last survivor of the largest family in the galaxy and all I want is to prove we weren't the monsters the Empire made us, but I'm nothing but another mangled soul cloned in the miserable rain on Kamino. All I know is the things I hate about myself. The things they made me to be. I'm sorry. I just wanted to do something right."

Mando put a solid hand on her shoulder, the weight of her desperation heavier than beskar. "You saved an innocent life." He finally said. "That's… good. You did a good thing."

Angel buried her face in her boy's hair. "The wrong way."

"Hey. Im sorry I snapped at you. Just… tell me next time. I don't mind doing things like that… I just need to know."

She smiled weakly and nodded. "Sorry for getting all weepy on you. I…. Struggle with shit sometimes."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I… sometimes I think I'll never escape being a clone. That no matter how much free will I think I have, that that chip is just waiting inside my head. That I'll never be… more than an imitation of a Mandalorian. Or a Jedi. That I'll never be anything at all…" she huffed. "Boba used to say I was soft hearted. Clones weren't meant to be soft hearted, and I liked that I was different. But I have to be hard to survive, and I don't want to. There's no escaping it…"

"You can let your guard down here." He said automatically. "Outside the ship, wear your mask. I do. But I'm here…. It's us and the kids. It's… safe here."

Angel chuckled. "Keep it up and I'll adopt you as a brother too."

He couldn't help but chuckle back. "Wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. I don't have any living family."

Her smile was watery but real. "Welcome to the GAR."