Chapter Text
Once she’d heard that the Republic had contacted them about sending Jedi guards, Bo-Katan could hardly think about anything else. As an avid student of Mandalorian history, she knew the history between Mandalore, the Republic, and the Jedi. The Jedi’s war on Mandalorians had left their planet a wasteland, and yet now the Republic wanted to send Jedi here to protect them? More likely they wanted to send them here to control Mandalore.
Bo stormed into Satine’s office, her small ten-year-old frame thumping loudly into one of the chairs.
“Who do they think they are?”
Satine sighed. Sitting behind a scarred wooden desk with datapads littered around her, the setting sun warmed her back and caused her blonde hair to almost glow. She glanced up at Bo then struggled to focus back on the datapad in her hand, absentmindedly tugging on her long braid.
“Who’re you talking about Bo?”
“The Republic! Who do they think they are, sending Jedi here?!” Her nostrils were flared and she was breathing hard as she scowled at the desk, her arms crossed over her chest.
“They just reached out to us. They’re not sending any Jedi,” Satine answered, closing her eyes to rub her temples. “Just like I told you this morning.”
“But they could! What if they decide to just send the Jedi anyways? Do you know that they put a Jedi regent on Pijal for eight years?! I bet that is what they want to do here.”
“I’m old enough to not need a regent Bo.” Satine was now staring fixedly at the data pad in her hand. “And how did you hear about Pijal anyways? I thought you were supposed to be doing school work?” she glanced up at Bo, her brows pinched together. Bo shrugged, looking down at her lap.
“I did some school work. Then I got bored.”
“Of course you did,” Satine grumbled under her breath.
Bo could be an amazing student. She knew the most obscure facts about Mandalorian history, could tell you who ruled which clan when, but gods forbid someone asked her to study something she wasn’t interested in.
“You know,” Bo started, looking up at Satine and sitting up straighter in her chair. “If we went on the offensive I bet we wouldn’t even need aruetii protection.”
Satine put the datapad down and gave Bo a severe look.
“We’re trying to show Mandalore a new future. That’s why we’re trying to negotiate.”
“But Satine!” Bo exclaimed. “They attacked first! This is defense! And a good offense can be a great defense!”
While Bo-Katan leaned towards Mandalore’s more brutal history, Satine favored the more political aspects that the New Mandalorians were trying to bring about. The two of them had sparred on ideology on multiple occasions. Once she’d been old enough and the threats against them had increased, Bo’s dream was to put on their family’s beskar’gam and take up arms against those who threatened her family. Be a true Mando’ad. She would defend Satine and show her why the old ways were still important.
“Violence begets violence, Bo,” Satine responded, almost emotionless. Bo huffed and opened her mouth, then closed it. This was an argument they’d had many times already since Satine had returned from Coruscant.
“I still think I should have weapons,” Bo grumbled.
Satine was back to reading the information on her datapad, her eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t need a weapon, Bo-Katan,” she said distractedly.
“The Protectors have weapons!” Bo burst out, pointing at the two Protectors currently flanking the office door.
“That’s why you don’t need a weapon. They are here to protect us,” Satine responded, her voice rising.
“Well I don’t need protection,” Bo said confidently. “I’m a verd. Just like Ba’buir.”
“Ba’buir died at thirty during a clan dispute!” Satine finally snapped. “And since then Mom and Buir have worked hard to show Mandalore that violence just gets good people killed!”
The room went silent as Bo went completely still, staring at her sister. Shame passed over Satine’s face.
“Well Mom and Buir are dead. So, a fat lot of good that did them,” Bo said, standing up and running for the door.
“Bo!” Satine called, rounding the desk, but Bo was already gone.
“We’ll send someone after her,” one of the Protectors said, and Satine nodded and sank into the chair Bo had just vacated, her head in her hands.
Bo didn’t stop until she’d reached the storage room beside the armory. She found the darkest corner of the room and slid down the wall, hugging her knees to her chest while wiping the back of her hand against her nose and willing herself not to cry. Verda did not cry.
She didn’t know how long she had sat there when there was a knock at the door and Fenn Rau stuck his head in.
Fenn was young, maybe a little older than Satine, and Bo really liked him. He was funny and was one of the few Protectors who didn’t treat her like a little girl. He’d even taught her how to shoot a blaster and don armor, behind Satine’s back of course.
“Hello, Bo-Katan,” he said, stepping into the room.
“I’m not going back,” Bo said petulantly, sniffing and wiping at her nose again. She picked up a fallen spare droid part and launched it across the room. “I hate this place!” Fenn walked in and closed the door behind him before coming to sit beside Bo, leaving about an arm’s length between them. “I just want to go home,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around her knees.
“I know, verd’ika,” Fenn said gently, leaning his head up against the wall. “I miss home too.”
Fenn pulled something out of one of the pouches on his belt and began messing with it. Bo lifted her head off of her knees and watched him before scooting closer.
“What is that?” she asked.
“A puzzle box. You have to align everything quite right,” he said, twisting the beskar box in his hand around, “and then,” and the box popped open.
“Ooh!” Bo exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “May I try?”
Fenn nodded, putting the box back together and twisting it a few times before handing it over. Bo eagerly took it and turned it around and around in her hands, looking at every detail, before gingerly twisting it. After a few minutes she pulled at it and…nothing happened.
“Dank farrik,” she grunted and Fenn hid a smile behind his hand.
“Language,” he said.
With her head still bowed over the box she looked up at him from under her sharp red brows.
“Haar’chak,” she deadpanned. Fenn shook his head as she went back at it. She kept at it, all her focus on the tiny box, mumbling to herself when she’d pull at it fruitlessly, until finally he heard the click and when she pulled it opened. She whooped in triumph, her yell reverberating off the walls and Fenn smiled at her proudly. Turning the pieces over in her hands she took the time to examine the inner mechanisms.
“You know, your sister didn’t mean to snap at you,” he said softly. Bo didn’t react for a few minutes, just turning the box around and around in her hands. She then sighed and reached the box back out to him.
“I know. I just…miss them.”
Fenn remained silent, staring at the box in Bo’s small hand. He reached over and closed her hand around it.
“You keep it.” She looked up at him with wide eyes.
“Are you sure?”
He nodded.
“Keep it safe for me.”
Bo kept staring at the box, her eyes narrowed in thought. She then gently placed the box in one of the pouches on her belt and reached into another pouch, pulling out a leaf-shaped piece of metal. She weighed it in her hand, watching the way the light bounced off the beskar, before holding it out to Fenn.
“A trade,” she said. “I’ll keep your box safe if you keep this safe for me.”
Fenn gently reached out and took the offered leaf. Turning it over, he inspected the etchings and detail. He could see Bo-Katan’s work in it, and her initials on the back.
“When did you make this?”
“Before we left the palace. It’ll bring you luck.”
“Are you sure?” Fenn asked, meeting Bo's eyes. She nodded resolutely. “I promise to keep it safe for you.”
Standing, he offered his hand and she took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Side by side they left the storage room and headed down the hall.
Satine and Bo hugged when Fenn brought her back, but Bo-Katan didn’t bring up the Republic or the Jedi again.
A week later she stood next to Satine as they waited for Minister Rogaar who’d just landed outside the compound. Her tunic was scratchy and uncomfortable and she kept pulling at it and shifting around. She didn’t know what the big deal was. She’d met Minister Rogaar before.
The compound doors opened and Minister Rogaar, flanked by a couple of commandos and two of his aides, walked through. He was a large, muscular man, older with gray hair and a neatly trimmed beard, with kind light blue eyes. Walking towards them he smiled widely.
“Your grace, it is so good to see you safe,” he boomed and Satine smiled back at him, inclining her head.
“It’s good to see you as well, Minister. I appreciate you coming.”
Sorrow filled his eyes as he nodded.
“Of course, my dear, of course. And Lady Bo-Katan, it is good to see you again!” he said, turning to Bo and brightening. Bo inclined her head stiffly.
“Minister.”
Rogaar looked back up at Satine and Bo noticed his smile slip again.
“I come with some news. Shall we?” Satine nodded and began leading the way to her office when she paused and turned to Fenn, one of the Protectors behind them.
“Rau, do you mind taking Bo-Katan to the library? She has lessons she needs to attend to.”
“What?” Bo exclaimed, and all eyes turned to her. “I’m coming too!”
“No, Bo-Katan, we talked about this.”
“No, YOU talked about this. I want to be a part of this too!”
“This is not something you need to concern yourself with. And you have lessons. Mom and Buir would want you to keep up your education.”
Bo opened her mouth to retort but Fenn turned her around and guided her down the hall.
“I’ve got her, your grace,” he said.
Bo, surprisingly, allowed herself to be guided and just glared at Satine as she walked away.
“I’m sorry about that,” Satine said, leading the way again. “This all has been…tough on her.”
“And not just her, I am sure,” Rogaar said and Satine glanced away.
“It has not been easy.” Satine said and her shoulders sagged.
Bo was quiet at dinner, pushing her food around her plate. She wondered what Satine and Rogaar had been talking about and what was happening down on Mandalore. Did they discuss the Republic’s offer? They were currently discussing the weather on Concordia.
“So, Bo-Katan,” Rogaar suddenly said and Bo looked up. “I’ve heard you enjoy playing dejarik.” Bo’s eyes lit up.
“Yes! Do you play?”
Rogaar nodded.
“Indeed, I do, though it has been a while.”
“Can we play after dinner?” she asked, sitting up straighter in her chair. Rogaar smiled at her and shrugged.
“I’d be willing,” he said, then looked at Satine. Bo quickly turned her attention to Satine too and Satine smiled and softened her rigid posture.
“But you have to finish your food first,” she said. Bo scarfed down her food and waited impatiently for everyone else to finish before leading the way into one of the sitting rooms where a circular dejarik board was set up in the corner. She wasted no time turning on the table and choosing her characters, Rogaar sitting across from her and choosing his own.
The game started out civilly, Bo trying to determine Rogaar’s strategy, but once she got her pieces where she wanted them she attacked ruthlessly, her face screwed in concentration. Rogaar’s look changed from one of pleasant amusement to one of intense focus as he tried to counter Bo’s increasingly aggressive moves. Satine couldn’t help but smile at how quickly Bo was taking down Rogaar’s pieces and at one point leaned down beside her.
“Hey, hey, go easy on him,” she said quietly. Bo stopped and looked up at her, an unconvinced look on her face.
“I’m ten. He’s the Minister of Mandalore. He’s fine.”
Rogaar started laughing, his laughs deep and booming and Satine stood up, shaking her head, though an amused smile was on her face. Finally, the game was over with Bo having two pieces remaining.
“Well, my lady,” Rogaar said, chuckling and shaking his head. “I don’t believe I have ever been that soundly beaten. You are quite good.”
Bo smiled broadly at the praise then turned to look over her shoulder at Satine.
“Wanna play?”
Satine’s amused smile got even wider and her eyes lit up, but she glanced over at Rogaar before answering.
“Oh, I am quite done. She’s too good for me.” He quickly stood and vacated his seat so Satine could replace him. Both sisters quickly went about picking their characters and Bo grinned devilishly at Satine while Satine smirked back at her.
“Oh, you’re going down Bo,” she said.
The fun game quickly devolved into a competitive sibling war.
“You can’t do that!” Bo shouted as one of Satine’s pieces took out one of hers.
“Yes I can! Look, see!” Satine responded, showing her the piece’s stats.
“There’s no way that’s right.”
“Yeah, well, it’s on here, so…”
Bo slammed the controls and moved one of her pieces, countering one of Satine’s and trapped it against one of her other pieces.
“Hey!” Satine shouted as her piece was slammed to the board.
“I can play dirty too!” Bo said, her face screwed in concentration.
Both sisters moved pieces rapidly here, there, clashing them against each other, until Satine had one piece left and Bo’s two descended on it. As Bo’s piece picked it up and slammed it to the board, Bo stood up and let out a war whoop that had one of the Protectors stationed outside poking their head in. Satine laughed.
“Well, I concede Bo. You’ve gotten too good for me.”
Rogaar shook his head, looking over the board and at Bo’s characters’ stats.
“You did better than me!” he said.
“Don’t mess with Kryzes and dejarik, sir,” one of the Protectors said and Rogaar looked over to him.
“You couldn't have told me this before?”
Bo then yawned and Satine looked at the chronometer.
“I think we will be retiring. Thank you for a lovely evening, Minister Rogaar.”
“Good night, your grace, my lady,” he said before Satine and Bo departed for their rooms.
Satine had just finished tying off her braid when she heard a soft knock on her door. Padding over and looking through the view hole, she saw Bo-Katan and quickly opened the door to reveal her younger sister standing there, dressed for sleep.
“May I come in?” she asked, unusually shy. Satine stepped aside and nodded, worry creasing her eyebrows. Bo stepped in and looked around, her fingers fiddling with the bottom of her sleep shirt, before meeting Satine’s eyes. “I’m sorry for being so difficult,” she said, and Satine had to really listen to hear every word. Satine shook her head at her little sister and led her over to her couch and sat her down.
“No, Bo, I’m sorry for snapping at you. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Bo sat there quietly, twisting her fingers in her lap.
“I miss Mom and Buir.”
Satine smiled sadly and pulled Bo into a hug.
“I do too, vod’ika.”
Bo let herself be held then pulled back.
“Can I sleep here tonight?”
“Of course,” Satine responded and led Bo into her room, tucking herself and her little sister under the covers. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, Bo.”
“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, Satine. I’m glad you’re back.”
It was a week later and Satine was in the study going over possible safe houses with Minister Rogaar when the first explosions went off. At first, she stared dumbly out the window at the blasts of light and explosions that were visible outside. Then she was being dragged to her feet and out the door by her Head of Security, Lars.
“Get her to safety,” he directed to the two Protectors that were outside the door, pulling out his blasters and preparing to block the hallway. Satine felt one of them, Ca’tra, she thought her name was, grab her arm and start to lead her towards the hangar when a sickening thought struck her and she dug her heels in.
“Bo!” she yelled. “She’s in the library!”
Lars traded a glum glance with Rogaar and Satine tried to pull herself free, but Ca’tra held her firmly.
“We have to get you to safety, your grace,” she said.
“I’m not leaving her! Bo!” she screamed futilely, fighting against the Protector. At that moment Fenn ran into the hallway, skidding to a halt, alone. “Rau! Where’s Bo?!”
“It…it was my day off.”
“Carlson is with her,” Lars finally supplied and pulled out his comm. Fenn turned to Satine.
“I’ll go get her,” he said, but Lars stopped him with a hand on his chest.
“Stay with the Duchess. Carlson,” he called into his comm. “Carlson, do you read me?”
There was a beat of silence as everyone stared at the comm.
“Ay sir, I read you. We’re ok here. Bo-Katan and I are headed for the hangar.”
A sigh of relief echoed around the hallway.
“Jax, Riss, I want you to meet Carlson and help him bring the Lady Bo-Katan safely to the hangar,” Lars added into the comm.
“Copy that, sir,” a female voice replied and Lars turned to Satine.
“We’ll get her there safely. Go your grace.”
Satine looked hesitantly from Lars to Fenn to Rogaar and finally nodded and let herself be led down the hallway, Rogaar and another Protector following. Fenn hesitated.
“Go with her Rau.”
“But sir,” he started to protest.
“Go. Carlson, Jax, and Riss are more than capable of getting the girl there safely. The Duchess needs you. Now go!”
Fenn nodded and with one last reluctant look towards the library he followed Satine.
The hallways around the library were filled with smoke and the too close sounds of explosions and blasterfire. Bo was letting herself be dragged down the hallway to the hanger, Carlson’s long strides covering much more ground than her small legs ever could. They were turning into the back of the compound when a thought hit her.
“Buir’s beskar’gam!” she shouted, digging her feet in and stopping.
“What?” Carlson whirled on her, confusion clear on his face through the opening in his helmet.
“I can’t leave it,” she said and tried to pull away, but Carlson held fast. Bo-Katan grunted and pulled to no avail until she finally reeled back and kicked Carlson in the shin. The shock caused him to drop Bo’s arm and she bolted. Recovering, he ran after her, but he quickly lost her in the smoke. He knew where she was heading and hoped he could cut her off and took another hallway, almost running into Jax and Riss.
“Where’s the girl?” Jax asked as she looked around.
“She took off on me. Pretty sure she’s headed for the armory.”
The three of them began to run in that direction but were met with a face full of blaster fire. They took cover and pulled out their blasters, returning fire.
“We don’t have time for this!” Riss shouted over the noise.
In the armory, Bo was quickly throwing all of her Buir’s armor into a bag. Once done she hefted it over her shoulder and grunted as it banged painfully on her back. She gritted her teeth and ran. Ahead to her right she could hear blasterfire so she ran to the left, coughing as smoke entered her lungs. She tripped and almost went down but kept going until a dark shape blocked her path and she slid to a halt. An armored, unfamiliar Mandalorian stepped out of the smoke and moved towards her. She dropped the bag on the ground and groped inside. Time slowed as the Mandalorian raised his blaster, then Bo raised hers, the one Fenn had taught her how to shoot, and fired, right at the unprotected part of his shoulder. The bolt struck true and he yelled, dropping his blaster and she shot again, hitting him in the leg and he dropped. Bo again picked up her bag and ran around him, not looking back.
Carlson, Jax, and Riss finally dispatched their attackers and arrived, limping in Carlson and Riss’s case, at the armory to find it empty.
“Dank farrik!” Carlson shouted, knocking over a stand and sending its contents flying. The Kryze armor was gone.
“She had to have headed back to the hanger,” Riss said and the three of them took the left hallway towards the other side of the compound. They passed one of the Mandalorian attackers shot and bleeding on the ground and Carlson finished him off.
“Does the Kryze girl have a blaster?” Riss asked as they ran down the hallway.
“Wouldn’t put it past her,” Carlson shouted back, but all three looked up in alarm at the sound of rending steel and could only watch while the roof above them caved in.
Bo’s lungs were burning as she ran along the hallway away from the blasterfire and explosions. She then heard a large rumbling and screeching of metal behind her and turned to see a wall of dust come from one of the hallways behind. She found herself shaking but pushed herself to move. Rounding a corner, she slid to a stop and threw herself back as she heard helmeted voices up ahead and glimpsed unfamiliar Mandalorian figures round the corner and head up the hallway, the hallway she was about to take. Panic started to take her but she bit the inside of her mouth and looked to the left, to the hallway that led to the garden. Turning that way, she hiked the bag more securely over her shoulder and mapped out in her head the path from the gardens to the hanger.
Satine was beside herself. Rogaar’s aides had joined them in the ship, but his commandos had remained to help the Protectors. It had been at least twenty minutes and Fenn had tried to get a hold of Lars, Carlson, anybody, but to no avail. No one answered.
“We have to go back,” she said, heading for the door, but Rogaar stopped her.
“We can’t let you do that, Duchess.”
“She’s my sister!”
“I know.” He looked over her shoulder to where she knew Fenn was standing and nodded his head. She turned and Fenn was checking his blasters and heading for their landing ramp.
“I’ll find her, I promise,” he said, but as he was stepping down onto the ramp, blasterfire emptied into the hanger, pinging off the ship, and he ducked just in time to avoid a bolt headed straight for his head. Backpedaling, he hit the button to raise the ramp.
“We have to take off,” Rogaar said, heading for the cockpit.
“No!” Satine exclaimed, running after him. “We can’t! Please!” Her voice broke and she dropped her gaze away from his pitying look.
“The garden,” Fenn supplied, his face a stony mask. “We could try getting to her through there.”
Rogaar nodded and Satine looked up with hope. He tapped the pilot’s shoulder.
“Take off and try to circle back towards the garden.”
“Yes, sir,” the pilot responded, and Fenn came to stand next to Satine. His face was pale and drawn and his fists were clenched as he stared out the front viewport. Satine felt the engines fire up and the ship lift then accelerate forward to the hangar opening. They cleared it and were banking back towards the compound when an explosion rocked the ship and propelled it forward, throwing Satine and Rogaar to the ground. Satine cried in dismay and when she gained her footing she ran for a side viewport and sank to her knees at the sight. The compound, her and Bo’s home for the last month, was gone. She fell forward onto her hands, heaving sobs shaking her shoulders, her voice just a long drawn out wail of pain. She felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned, beating her fists onto the person’s armored chest as they wrapped her in their arms and just held her. Eventually the fight left her and she sagged against their body, her breaths coming in gasps, and she sank into darkness.
Bo had just made it into the garden and was circling one of the decorative metal statues when the compound behind her exploded. She threw herself into the hollow in front of the statue and could see and feel the flames as they split around the metal, red with tinges of blue and white. When she raised her head, her ears were ringing and she could see the garden was littered with debris: pieces of the wall, roof, even furniture. She saw some movement off in the distance and looked to see a ship, their royal ship, growing fainter as it rose then disappeared into the atmosphere.
No, no, no, she repeated to herself, staring at that spot in the sky. Her stomach dropped. They left her. She sank down onto the ground and curled around the bag with her dead Buir’s armor.
Mandalore’s other moon was rising when the ringing in her ears abated and she heard the crunching of boots on the debris around her. She grasped for her blaster and blearily peaked up and saw moonlight glinting off of Mandalorian armor. She fired.
“Osik!” a male voice shouted as the blaster bolt pinged harmlessly against his beskar armor. He pulled his blaster and aimed for Bo before another man came up and pushed his arm down.
“Hold your fire,” he said. Bo, exhausted, let her arm drop. The new man was wearing Mandalorian armor as well, though his was painted blue and black with a cream-colored trident above his T-visor. He looked her over through the helmet then removed it to show a young man with an angular face, bright blue eyes, and almost white blonde hair.
“You’re the younger Kryze girl, aren’t you?” he asked, coming to kneel by her. She didn’t react. “They left you.” She opened her mouth to deny it, then looked off into the distance where the ship had disappeared and dropped her eyes back to the ground. Anger suddenly welled up within her and she lifted her head, her eyes flashing.
“You!” she growled. “You killed my parents! You destroyed my home!” She lifted up her blaster to shoot him, but he was on her in a second, disarming her.
“I can see you are quite unlike your sister, Lady Kryze.”
“You know nothing about my sister,” she growled, spitting at the man. He wiped the spit from his face and laughed.
“You’re right. Only that she and your father were trying to destroy our culture. Our culture that’s made us who we are for thousands of years.” He looked at the bag beside her. “What’s this?” he asked, pulling it towards him.
“Give it back!” she screeched, launching herself at him, but the other man, the one she’d shot, grabbed her from behind. She screamed and kicked, but he held firm as the other man unzipped the bag and pulled out her Buir’s helmet, emblazoned with the Kryze symbol.
“You are quite unlike your family.” He looked over her shoulder to the man holding her. “Bring her back to camp. Get her some food, water. And watch her.”
“Let me go!” Bo shrieked as he dragged her off into the night. “Satine!”
Satine came to in an unfamiliar room. She looked around, her eyes wide and her breath quickening, then reality crashed down on her and she curled around herself, the sobs once again wracking her shoulders. Her sister, her baby sister, who she’d vowed to protect, was gone.
“Your grace,” Fenn Rau’s soft voice broke through her sobs, but she wouldn’t raise her head. Wouldn’t look at him. She felt the cot dip and his hand on her shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry.” Satine only curled tighter around herself and cried harder. Finally, she felt like she ran out of tears and gently pushed herself up. Fenn was sitting beside her, his eyes red and filled with sorrow. He broke eye contact and reached for a mug off to the side. “I thought you could use this.”
Satine gingerly reached out and took the mug from his hands, bringing it under her nose to smell. It was some herbal tea, but she couldn’t tell what. She took a sip and couldn’t really taste much either.
“Thank you,” she croaked, her throat raw from crying. The tea helped some.
“Here, I have something else for you,” he said, and reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a piece of metal. He held it out to her and she gingerly took it. It was a brooch shaped like the leaves of the Concordia tree. “Bo-Katan gave that to me a few weeks ago,” he said, and Satine found more tears as they started slipping down her cheeks again. “I think you should have it.”
Satine fingered the piece then turned it over to see the Kryze symbol hammered there along with a B and a K.
“Thank you,” she said, meeting Fenn’s eyes. He nodded and smiled sadly at her and she collapsed against his shoulder, his arms encircling her and holding her as she cried.
Mando’a Translations
Aruetti- outsider
Beskar’gam – armor
Mando’ad – Mandalorian
Verd – warrior
Ba’buir – grandparent
Buir – parent (in this case, father)
Verda – warrior (plural)
verd’ika – little warrior (fond)
Dank farrik – generic curse word
Haar’chak – damn it
Vod’ika – little sister
Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum – I love you
Osik – shit