“My apologies for lack of decorum but I am not here to debate semantics General. You wanted an update and that is what you were presented with, debating it’s worth is for your council.” Miara did her best to refine her comments to the congregate of holo images surrounding the table against which she was leaning.
“By all rights your suggesting authorized brutality, or even marked insurgency, within their own ranks. Fracturing cells. Resistance to their own directives.” The blue lined and flickering image of General Draven ignored her previous comment.
Miara resisted the urge to end the communication right there and then. She closed her eyes and managed to blow out a breath while not presenting outward the exasperation that was taking hold of her.
“General, pardon my lack of propriety and with respect to your position...as well as the rest of you,” She said within the circle of assembled leadership, motioning to all, “It is not a matter of resisting directives. Despite what any of us would like to think, or to call it, brutality IS the directive. And as such, we need to reevaluate our own tactics and strategies to compensate, else the destruction of the Death Star will only become a footnote in the history of this Empire.” Miara stated, focusing the last of the comment toward the image of Mon Mothma.
“We do understand, collectively, what is at stake Captain. It is through conversations such as these that we can work out our own strategies. We have always fed insurgency through our own cells, provided them with the means necessary to fuel their own rebellions, the scope of which is, or was, completely within the purview of that leadership.” General Madine spoke up, simply adding to Miara’s exasperation as the comment contained little, if any, context.
“General, what the Captain is trying to convey is simply that their strategy has shifted, and we need to shift with it else we will be playing right into the very protocols they have enacted. Springing the trap as it were.” Mon Mothma shifted the conversation back to the immediate, much to Miara’s satisfaction. Miara bowed her head forward slightly as she gripped the table in front of her, releasing some of the tension she had been suppressing, then nodded in agreement with the exiled ex-Senator.
“Precisely. And with that in mind, our plans going forward can include conditions to take advantage of that, as proven by our own findings at Trunion.” Miara added, then continued, “On that note, with Admiral Feng’s absence, we are going to need more pilots. Specifically, those that have a working knowledge of various Imperial craft.” She finished with a note of rekindled enthusiasm in her voice.
“With all due respect Captain, you have the means at your disposal to take advantage of said protocols as they transpire in real time...whereas the rest of us..” Draven stopped himself with both hands held in the air about him. Miara refused to get drawn into this topic again and motioned to her side where N’dali was standing with her arms folded across her chest. Miara flashed her a brief smile and nodded toward her. N’dali took the cue and approached the table at Miara’s side.
“In the interest of negating political diatribe, of which I am not equipped in any case, I will present to you an opportunity to establish our own network of intelligence that will supersede that which is currently employed. The Captain’s inference concerning Imperial acquisition has also presented us with the capability to monitor their every move on a galactic scale. I was able to cede myself into the highest levels of the ISB’s internal workings and am currently maintaining that feed into a shadow relay of sorts that should remain undetected.” N’dali presented to the forum of Rebel leadership.
“What are you suggesting Fardi?” General Draven asked with skepticism, attempting to hide the contempt he clearly felt.
“While your current network was sufficient in the past, it will not serve in the present. Simple calculations reduce the odds of success, or even survival, given your current system in place, coupled with renewed Imperial strategy, at less than seventeen percent overall.” N’dali fired off in rapid cadence, “Odds I am certain no one in their right mind would accept.” She finished watching as the man’s holo image held contempt, crossing his arms to cement the emotion. N’dali watched as the man actively caught up with the conversation and seemed to understand that her comments weren’t political by any means.
He dropped his arms to his sides and leaned forward, displaying his understanding through pliability, “Ok Fardi, what do you need?” He asked earnestly.
“Teams of droids. The ability to interconnect these droids into the network I have already established. Access to sector assets. Just to start. I need to know what is available, what we need to acquire, who can accomplish specific tasks and establish response times to Imperial actions. And, as the Captain has already pointed out, pilots. We are going to need pilots.” She rattled off the facts for all to hear.
General Draven leaned closer to the cam at his own table many light years distant, “That is a tall ask N’dali, and with Feng’s absence, not something we can provide now in any case, but I think I understand where you’re going with this. I am more than willing to accept your suggestions, but we will not be able to move forward without the Admiral’s involvement.”
“General, N’dali, we have an accord moving forward. I will place the two of you in direct contact to meet these challenges.” Mon Mothma chimed in, purely in the interest of moving things along. “General Madine?” She asked, passing the floor.
“My only ask is your status and expected ETA at Koureye. The teams there are presently waiting on your unit to provide recon so they can move on to their next phases.” Came the expected question from the cleanly groomed holo image. “Purely in the interest of security mind you, Bothans do tend to stand out in congregation.” He added.
“We have an assignment planet side, and Rau is currently present.” Miara spoke up. Everyone nodding around the table, comprehending the inference. “Give us two hours standard and we’ll be on our way General.”
“Very good Captain, thank you.” He said with a pleasant bow, “Please give our best to Y’mmat.”
“Indeed General. Thank you both for your input, suggestions, and cooperation. We will be in touch, and feel free to reach out if there is anything your teams need. Stay safe.” Mon Mothma said with finality, the entirety of the holo display evaporating into the air with an emitted chirp, drowning the room in a brief respite of darkness before illumination remitted to fill the holo room with its soft glow.
“This is why I prefer to retain my present rank and nothing more.” Miara spoke to the air before her, pushing herself away from the table and turning to N’dali in the process. “Thank the stars for Mon Mothma is all the more I will say on the topic.” She finished with a broad smile, N’dali nodding her head in return.
“You’ll get no argument from me Miara.” N’dali offered, chuckling her response.
Miara offered the Thebeskan a playful slap on the shoulder, “are you headed down with us?”
“Negative, I am going back over to the Gon to check on the status of the droid sweep and power up the command center while we’re able to remain docked. I’ll catch up, time providing.”
Miara flashed N’dali a knowing smile, “always working. She would appreciate your presence you know.”
N’dali offered a non-committal grin then drooped her head, “I do know Captain, but that shadow network I mentioned to the council is tenuous at best and will require constant monitoring until I am confident in its stability. The new droids will provide ample trial material when they have been properly wiped.”
Miara nodded her understanding and made to exit the room while bringing her wrist comm to her mouth, “Naykie, status?”
“Captain, Naykie. Shuttle is loaded up and waiting on you Ma’am.” Came the static laced response as she rapidly strode down a vacant corridor.
“Copy, on my way.” She said in return. Miara tapped a white blinking key on the same device. “Commander, continuous scans. I want appraisal if anything enters the system. We won’t have much time. Begin transport of the recon team over to the...LC... after we offload.” She stuttered, forgetting to ask N’dali if she had established a false signature registry for the light cruiser.
A gurgling chimed in over her comm, “Copy Mum, we are already operating at general quarters. Stay safe Captain.” Aturg barked his response.
Miara tapped at the comm again, “N’dali, you have a name for this LC?”
Only seconds passed, “Pervader.” Came her quick response.
‘Interesting play on the upcoming task we have for it I suppose.’ Miara thought, “Copy...thanks.” She spoke.
Miara rounded the intersection of conjoining corridors and saw the hatchway open to the waiting shuttle, for the first time acknowledging the brewing tension and nervousness within the pit of her stomach. ‘It was just another planet after-all’ she continued to tell herself, yet she could not eliminate the feelings as she could not eliminate her past. “Back to where it all began.” She mumbled to herself as she entered the air lock and punched the locking mechanism, the lock’s doors closing behind her with a menacing hiss and deep resounding clank. Upon entering the shuttle, she eyed the stack of respectfully shrouded Imperial corpses, unnerved at the prospect of what she had intended for them. For an instant she wanted to unholster her blaster again and expend the remainder of its power cell in an attempt at revenge or unleash forceful kicks into their sides but thought better of it and made her way to the acceleration seats in the passenger cabin and dropped herself into the unforgiving plastoid chair, buckled herself in and motioned forward to one of Naykie’s troopers to depart. She lowered her head into her hands feeling the few tears that managed to breach her resolve with her finger tips, deciding she would rather bury her emotions in her own hands than chance the scene out of the starboard viewport to Raada below.
N’dali, back on her newly acquired freighter, switched off the backup power draw to the Gozanti’s Ion engines, finalizing her ability to reroute the remainder of power needed to fire up the entirety of the command center in the ships hold behind her. She blew out a breath of steam in the chill air before her and checked the stability of the connections she had enacted between the ship’s reactor and the command centers relays, positive that nothing would sever her ability to engage the cruisers functionality if the need were to arise. She left the cockpit through the open doorway and approached the command center’s boxy frame, assuring herself that the physical connections to it were locked in place properly. Through her implant she confirmed that she also had control of the light cruiser her current ship was docked with and that both were operating within the same framework. Defensive capabilities would have to be negated for the intense focus required to maintain that framework, relying entirely on the ‘Challenger’ for those purposes. She tapped the side of her implant, “Commander, going dark. I am in your hands.”
Aturg replied with the customary gargle of air, “Ons het jou Fardi, jy goed om te gann.” He said in flawless Thebeskan.
“Impressive Commander, my appreciation.” She replied while nodding her head. A warm feeling gently washing through her upon hearing her native tongue, sincere appreciation indeed that the Mon Calamari had taken the time to learn it.
“Anything for my favorite Thebeskan.” He replied in what passed for a Mon Calamari’s attempt at sarcasm, a forced gargle eliminating any humor it may have held. He cleared his throat with gusto and inhaled deeply, “We’ll stay with you as long as you need N’dali.” He recovered.
“Again, my appreciation Commander.” She responded with sincere thanks.
What was touted as barren, rocky and sparse upon initial suggestion some months back to utilize the out of the way moon, was in fact, anything but. The descriptions certainly were true in the not-so-distant past as Ahsoka walked with Bren and Conda, through ankle high saplings of unknown variety. Small, bright green and circular leaves gently sprouting from thin stalks, blowing with the slight breeze from the east bathing the valley before them with the scents of new life. Large craggy escarpments rose high above them to meet the sky, Raada’s brilliant sun exposing crevasse and fissure alike, adding an element of reddish depth to the majesty of their crowns. Despite the distance above her, Ahsoka could see trailing vegetation escaping the confining shadows of the time worn rock, purple flowers appearing at random intervals along their dark green stems. She lowered her head from the skyward view and focused on the two troopers walking at either side of her, their own heads spinning around to take in their own respective views.
“Kind of beautiful in its own way.” Bren commented after walking a few meters.
“Reminds me of home.” Conda responded, surprising Ahsoka as he had said very little prior.
“Home is Toprawa, isn’t it.” Ahsoka said noting the thick accent. “Northern regions I would suspect.”
“How could you know that?” Conda asked quickly, stumbling to catch his footing.
“Coastal Deirene province, west of Ellyir. Hill country?” Ahsoka continued without answering him.
Conda stopped altogether, his shoulders drooped as his mouth opened slack, trying to voice the improbability of her accuracy.
“Conda. I’ve been about everywhere to be honest, but I also take the time to really absorb my surroundings wherever I may be.”
Bren had stopped to match the two, turning to face them.
“Haruun Kal, somewhere near Pelek Baw. You have since eliminated your Pelek accent though.” Ahsoka said over her shoulder. “It’s a shame really, that is one of the more enjoyable accents to listen to.”
Both troopers were speechless as Ahsoka nodded in her direction with a smile. “Just up here.” She said, motioning to a small rocky overhang where two very familiar men were waiting for her.
Bren and Conda stared at each other, stupefied, lacking words of any sort to explain what they had just experienced. He could feel the pangs of homesickness yanking at his core, the depth of which could only be matched through the expression on Bren’s own face, her eyes welling with the threat of emotion.
“Heave to troopers, over here.” A gruff voice distracted them both. Turning to face the voice with hints of recognition, they were not surprised to see a face known to the galactic whole, “Dispensing with formalities, just call me Rex.”
The two almost tripped over one another in their haste to follow that last order. A hooded man stood next to the aging clone, his ragged facial hair doing a particularly good job of hiding any identifiable features.
“These two are going to ask you a few questions. It will help us all decide what to do with you.” Ahsoka said bluntly to both Bren and Conda. Turning to Rex, she clapped him on the shoulder and whispered her thanks to them both. “I’ll return the speeder.” She said before facing the troopers again, “Just be honest with them,” She began then paused, framing a more serious look, “Know, however, that your days serving the Empire are at an end.” She rested a hand on each of their shoulders and nodded to them in turn. She took a few paces toward Ani’s 74-Z before Rex called out to her.
“Where is the third?” He asked.
“He is resting.” Conda spoke up before Ahsoka could address the question. “His head isn’t right.” He finished, adopting a forlorn expression.
“He’s with Zeb, they’ll be along.” Ahsoka assured him, swinging her leg over the bike she cycled the repulsors, throttled the Scoris and raced back the way they had come.
Sabine at her side, Kowani looked up and into the eyes of Fenn Rau. The deep-set orbs presented nothing but pride and honor as they focused back solely on her. He smiled down at her before setting his helmet before him at his feet as the small rocky grove echoed the trills of an advancing speeder bike. Kowani felt her entire body relax as the sound grew louder, letting herself bask in the elation of knowing Ahsoka would be present. She let an unseen smile spread across her face as she felt the Togruta’s presence on her other side. Kowani closed her eyes to the sights and closed her ears to the sounds for a moment, letting that elation run its course from head to toe.
“Aliit. Family.” Rau began in his unforgettable, stoically deep voice. Kowani snapping her eyes open as she felt both Sabine and Ahsoka place their hands on her shoulders. She was surprised to see the flickering three quarter image of Ursa Wren presented next to him.
“It is a proud day for Clan Wren. It is a proud day for House Vizla. And it is a proud day for Mandalore. Although we have been excised from our home, we all carry Mandalore with us.” Ursa said with equal measures of eloquence and stolidity, a seriousness in her eyes and facial expression not at all lost within her holo image. “Fenn.” She finalized with a slight turn toward Rau.
‘Kowani. ‘Ani’ Y’mmat. Is it your intention to accept the honor presented you? To accept our Creed as jurisprudence? To place your Clan, your House and The Mandalore above all else?”
Kowani squinted a tear from her eye, “It is Protector.” She said a little too loudly she thought, feeling Sabine chuckle at her side.
“Ani, remove your helmet.” Rau said. Kowani catching a light cough from someone behind her. She complied, setting it before her feet, as was his.
“Is it your intention, Ursa Wren, Matriarch of Clan Wren, House Vizla, to accept Kowani Y’mmat into your family as one of your own? To teach her the ways of the Mandalorian, to instruct her within the Creed and to accept her as your daughter.”
For a brief second the image of Ursa crackled, Kowani sensing the crease of a smile forming across her lips. “It is Protector.”
Fenn turned back to Kowani, “Remove your vambrace and approach.”
Kowani didn’t hesitate and unclipped the vambrace from her wrist and walked right up to him, presenting her left-hand palm up. Rau took the vambrace from her and flipped it over in his hand accessing the core of the armor’s chain code index. He retrieved a small dagger from his belt and lightly slashed Kowani’s left hand, leaving a thin blade of blood trailing from her palm to her wrist. He dabbed the tip of the dagger into the trail and brought it to the small receptor within the index, tapping the handle to expel its cargo. The diminutive mechanism chirped twice before closing in on itself. He flipped the vambrace back over in his hand and accessed the chain code interface from a small three button control emitting a small flickering holo image consisting of Mando’an script. “Your vambrace once belonged to Savi Tar, Clan Saxon, House Vizla. Savi Tar, having been a victim of the Purge, lost this armor through death. It is by the will of the Mandalore that this armor returns to its proper place in House Vizla, now Clan Wren.” He presented the vambrace back to Kowani, clipping it back in its permanent home, now hers and hers alone. She bowed before him as Sabine handed Rau the helmet Kowani had placed on the ground, Fenn taking it and repeating the process, another light slash across her left palm. On the back rim of the helmet was an identical access port to its own chain code index. Fenn touched the sensor pad after the access port sealed itself and the same script appeared through the visor slots. “Your helmet once belonged to Ren Tar, Clan Saxon, House Vizla. Ren Tar, having been a victim of the Purge, lost this armor through death. It is by the will of the Mandalore that this armor returns to its proper place in House Vizla, now Clan Wren.”
‘Sisters.’ Kowani thought, her mood sorrowed for a very moment at the thought, turning to anger when the thought revealed the truth of their demise. She could feel the light touch of Ahsoka at her side, drawing out the anger through her fingertips on the back of her neck. The anger was replaced immediately by a calming peace that let her appreciate both the importance of the moment and the bond they had created together.
“Ani?” Rau said, expressing mild confusion.
“Apologies Protector.” She said, attempting to renew her resolve. She blinked away the trailing thoughts and focused on the items in the hands before her. “What?” was her only response upon seeing the set of Pauldrons in his grasp.
He chuckled briefly before resuming his own stoicism. “Although the Purge is a blight on our past, it is motivation for our future. It is through it we gain access to our strength; through that strength we define our honor. It is honor that has presented Clan Wren the Beskar to forge for you these Pauldrons. May they serve you well.” Both Ahsoka and Sabine took one of them from his grasp and clipping them onto the Mirialan’s shoulders, the fit, perfect. “Your code is the only chain on the index and is already active Ani Y’mmat, daughter of Clan Wren. Your previous actions have more than sufficed in the eyes of your Matron to negate the need for trial. The remainder of your armor will be presented upon completion of your trials however as directed by the Matriarch of Clan Wren.” Fenn Rau finished with a flourish, Kowani certain that the man defined honor in the eyes of his people.
Kowani lost herself in that moment, lost to her surroundings on this strange planet, in front of strangers, friends and family. Her family, old and new. The completeness she felt made more relevant by Ahsoka, her friend, confident, and for lack of a better term, Master. By the sister at her other side, the one that had treated her as such the moment they met, and now one that was by more than instinct. By the man before her that treated her with respect, listened to her stories, knew her past through them and helped her navigate her present. By the image of her Matron, her mother by all rights, beaming down with pride of her own, not lost at all through the flickering waves passing through her. She felt Sabine kick at her foot, snapping her out of her reverie, “Sorry.” She mumbled under her breath. Placing the helmet under her arm she fell to one knee.
“I am my armor. May it protect me as I protect my Clan and as I protect my House.” She felt the importance of every word, then continued as she had practiced, “Ni Jor’chajir a’t ner Kar yai ot tech ni te….ways…” She couldn’t remember the word in Mandoa, “be te Mando, o’r yaimpor, Ni ori’haat ner Mandokar bal oyay at cabuar bic.” She finished, realizing only then that Sabine was reciting the portion of the Creed with her. Fenn Rau beaming down upon her with extreme pride and mild shock at her attempt at the complicated language.
“Rise Kowani Y’mmat of Clan Wren, House Vizla and face your company.” She heard Rau say. She did as instructed to her left, passing the smiling face of Ahsoka and taking in the full platoon of Naykie’s infiltrators standing at attention, Captain Miara Larte saluting, her other hand outstretched with the image of N’dali in the palm of her hand, hovering over a small holo emitter. Lieutenant Naykie himself at full salute holding his own emitter, presenting the command deck of the ‘Challenger.’ They were all focused on her, the weight of this moment, her moment, not lost on her as she choked back tears. She found N’dali again and pointed an outstretched finger toward her oldest friend, giving her a knowing wink.
“Ani has recited the second Creed in our native tongue...mostly.” Fenn boomed through the assemblage with a finishing chuckle. “I call upon my House to teach me the ways of the Mandalorian, in return, I pledge my loyalty and life to protect it.”
Hearing the words recited back in basic brought the suppressed well of emotion exploding from her. Kowani began to shake from enthusiasm, “Aliit ori’shya tal’din!” She shouted to the sky as loud as she could, spittle forming at the corners of her mouth. “Aliit Ori,Shya Tal’Din!!” She shouted louder, feeling the constraints of her throat closing in on her. “Family is more than blood!” She said a final time in basic for everyone’s benefit. She slammed her helmet on her head, shot both hands straight up and shouted “OYA...OYA...OYA!!” Sabine, Fenn, Ahsoka and even the image of Ursa chanting with her. Not really caring if they didn’t know what it meant, the remainder of the assemblage began chanting as one, filling the rocky valley with the thunderous intonation. Kowani, letting untethered memories consume her mind, tied each one to the purposed shouts. She let thoughts of her parents, of Mirial and of Keno drift in thought, then shouted them out into the chorus of renewing vows each member in attendance around her was adding to. She vowed to uphold her creeds and promises, new and old with each shout, remembering with every syllable why she was here, how she was here and every person that had been there for her. She looked around her and saw those same sentiments in the eyes of others, then shouted anew...knowing she wasn’t the only one that had vowed today.