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The safe house was silent when Bo-Katan slipped in through the basement and in that she was grateful. Having her sister flapping around her wasn’t in her interest, not when the bed that Satine always left set up for her was calling. The small, covered landing pad had been empty before she’d left her Kom’rk there meaning that Satine was probably with Obi-Wan on Coruscant or meeting with the few members of her cabinet that had made it off world before Maul and Vizsla took over. Either way it would give her the peace she craved and hopefully time for a few hours sleep before she came back.
The data chip she’d brought was left on the bedside table as she stripped the beskar’gam off and stacked it neatly on the small unit, and her protective flight suit unzipped to waist before she dropped into the bed. Silently she sighed, non of the bunks in the various Death Watch bases were as comfortable as her bed here, the softness cushioning her bruised shoulder as she drifted into the first decent sleep she’d had in weeks.
-
It was dark by the time Satine returned. Her meetings with Republic senate had been going badly. Pleading for aid for those that had fled Mandalore during and after Death Watch’s takeover was proving difficult, even with a Sith Lord apparently running everything behind the scenes, not that the Chancellor believed him to be alive. The information Bo-Katan had been feeding her from inside was doubted at every turn and her own insistence on Mandalore remaining neutral and peaceful was only further muddying the waters. At least for now, her people had been able to find safety with her allies in the neutral planets.
With a soft smile she landed her own small ship beside the Kom’rk already there, glad to know her sister had waited for her. Their relationship was still recovering from years of distance and clashing ideologies but they both knew that Maul and his version of Death Watch were not the future either sister wanted for Mandalore or its people.
All the lights were off when Satine finally made it inside and in that she was confused. Bo-Katan never really made herself particularly at home when she came with her intel, but she’d never refused to even turn the lights on before. It left her with two options. Either Bo-Katan had set a trap for her, which had become infinitely less likely in the last few months, or she was asleep, also unlikely, but she had become more trusting in recent weeks. Silently Satine flicked the lights on and headed to the small room that she’d insisted be set aside for Bo-Katan.
Her room was also in darkness, but the open window let enough light through for Satine to pick out the sleeping shape of her vod’ika. Gently she pulled the blankets up around her sister’s shoulders before brushing her fingers through her red hair and off her forehead. It made her smile. A year ago, she could never have imagined that her sister would trust her enough, or feel safe enough, to sleep in her house. Now the trust had begun to be rebuilt, enough that she would let her guard down around her. Her hand braced on the bedside as she lent down to brush a kiss to her forehead. “Nuhoy jahaala Bo’ika.” The data chip was collected on her way out and the door pulled closed. She would look at the information later, once her sister was awake and could talk her through what she had found.
-
It was hours later when Bo-Katan made an appearance, shuffling from her own room and into the kitchen. She smiled at Satine and again the former Duchess was thrilled at how far they’d come. “When did you get home?”
“A couple of hours ago, while you were asleep.” In the light Satine could run a critical eye over her sister, frowning at the bruise that painted her forehead. In the dark she hadn’t seen it and she wondered how many more she was hiding. There was rarely a visit when she didn’t have some form of injury or other. Instead of hounding her on it she nodded towards the small table, watching as Bo-Katan settled onto a chair, one knee tucked up to her chest. “Here, you should eat.”
Bo-Katan couldn’t help the way her eyes lit up at the sight of food, the spices on the meat making her mouth water as Satine sat down opposite. She waited only until her sister was sat to dive in, attacking the food like she hadn’t eaten in a week. Neither sister had had much training in anything like cooking, both raised as heirs to Mandalore, and while Satine had been more diplomatically inclined, Bo had been more interested in physical training, even as a young child. It had left little time for them to learn to cook much above Pog soup and while Bo-Katan had proved excellent at meals prepped from ration packs and the odd bit of fresh food, Satine now had the time to learn to cook. It was something she found she enjoyed, and her sister definitely enjoyed the results.
“Are they not feeding you on Mandalore?” Satine couldn’t help but ask, watching as her sister ate as though someone was going to snatch her food away.
Taking the gentle hint for what it was Bo slowed down. “Vizsla’s still got us on ration packs. Conserving what food there is.” She took another bite, savouring the flavour as Satine watched her.
“I thought that the trade lines were open.”
Bo-Katan nodded opposite her, “they are, and Sundari and every other city on Mandalore look flush with food, but not all of what’s being shipped in as food is actually what it seems to be. The last shipment was two weeks ago, and three containers labelled as fresh supplies were actually Spice, another seven were weapons. The rest is for the people, but it’s not as much as it looks and the time between each shipment is increasing.” She watched Satine, the distress on her face an opposite to Pre’s; Gleeful and unconcerned as Sundari was used for smuggling, touting promises of toppling the syndicates and Maul. The temporary cost of claiming Mandalore, he’d crooned in her ear at night. “None of it’s staying on Mandalore very long. The spice was gone within a day according to my Owls and the weapons only a day longer than that.” She leaned back in her chair, rubbing the bruise above her eye. “I have no idea where the goods are being shipped to from Sundari, but I know it’s the same in a few other cities. I was hoping you might be able to get some of your resources to track where they went.”
Satine sighed. From the outside it looked like Mandalore was thriving under its warrior leadership, but the show Pre Vizsla and Maul were putting on was surface deep at best it seemed. “I’d need the tracking and manifest logs.”
“You have them, but not much more and the trail is two weeks cold now.” It wasn’t ideal. “We need to stop the shipments on route. If the buyers don’t receive their goods, then our supply lines will dry up. Hungry people make for angry people.”
Satine snarled at the notion, anger bubbling in her veins. “You’d use our people as a weapon?” Her sister had always had a ruthless edge, but this was harsh even for her.
“To save them, to take Maul and that aruetii off the throne. Yes, I would,” the fire in her voice was as bright as her hair. “It won’t come to that,” she insisted. “That amount of Spice going missing would put the Pyke’s in serious trouble. They supply syndicates throughout the galaxy. Maul wouldn’t intervene but it would weaken his position, enough that he might seek new investors, enough that he might expose himself as the puppet master behind this. Then your Jetii can deal with him.” She felt her anger ebb, her sister wasn’t the once she should be aiming it at. Vizsla’s vision of spreading the Old Mandalorian ways to the neutral systems was the only thing keeping him from challenging Maul, the army, supplies, and power he presented was too tempting for the time being.
“And what will we do with Vizsla once Maul has been removed?” He was still the leader of Death Watch and held the Dark Sabre, and therefore all of Mandalore. It all seemed theoretical at best, removing Maul would be no simple task, but it was obvious her sister had a plan in place for this particular eventuality.
Opposite her Bo-Katan swallowed sharply, a frown creasing her forehead. “That’s for me to worry about.” Against Vizsla she had a good chance, and it was a better chance than even he knew, but Satine almost dropped her fork in shock, eyes widening at what her sister was implying.
“Bo’ika no. I will not lose you to a duel for the Dark Saber, not when I’ve just got you back.”
Anger bubbled back up in Bo’s chest. Satine had to trust her on this. “There will be no other way. Now will you help me with the shipments or not?”
Again, Satine sighed, chewing her own food slowly. Bo-Katan wasn’t wrong and there may not be a cleaner way to fix things, but she was taking on far too much risk. “I could have done with the information two weeks ago.”
“I know, but I couldn’t. Pre had me on a tight leash and I don’t want to choke on it.” The crease between her sister’s eyes was enough to stop Satine asking too many questions.
Bo-Katan had risen through the ranks of Death Watch quickly, mostly due to her skill, but a little due to the Kryze name. It had given her some freedoms, but not much safety and it had certainly not kept her from Pre Vizsla’s sights. She knew that Bo had been introduced to Vizsla as a child, and the relationship had begun as Bo advanced in Death Watch but even in her sister’s own words she’d been naïve, afraid, and painfully young. The death of Pre’s father had meant his promotion to leader of Death Watch, and he’d taken her sister up with him. Power had done nothing but make him more vicious.
It was something that stirred Satine towards violence, the bruises and breaks her sister wore so often coming from his hands. There was more she knew, things her sister refused to say. The relationship between her vod’ika and Pre Vizsla was of little choice on Bo’s side now, violence used as tool and leadership as reward, and the damage certainly went deeper the bruises and broken bones. Her hands were bound though, and the rebellion Bo-Katan was undertaking to dethrone him was a huge risk to her own life. Her Nite Owl’s might be loyal to her and her alone, but Death Watch as a whole would kill her without a second thought.
“How have you managed to loosen it this time?” She wasn’t sure what she would have had to do, but every idea left a sour taste in her mouth.
Bo-Katan pushed her empty plate away and rubbed her eyes, trying to keep herself awake. “One of our cells has gone silent. We’ve had dissent since he used Maul and his resources, but this particular group dropped off the map. Pre doesn’t want the general Death Watch populace to know.” Dissent would only breed more dissent. “He’s sent me to find out what’s happened and track them down if possible.” The fortunate thing was she already knew, the mission quick and quiet. Their compound was empty and abandoned, the Covert that had called it home moving and not letting anyone know where they were going. She’d find them eventually. “I have some time before I need to head back.” She just hoped it would be enough.
“Good, in that case you can get a proper night’s rest. One where you don’t have to be looking over your shoulder all the time.” It hadn’t escaped Satine’s notice that she couldn’t keep her eyes open or that the shadows under them had only grown since last time she’d seen her. To her surprise her sister nodded softly before pushing herself to her feet and reaching for the plates. Satine stopped her with hand over hers. “I’ve got this, go and sleep. You look exhausted.”
Again, Bo-Katan nodded before turning with a quiet, “jate’ca,” and Satine frowned at her retreating back. Her sister had never much listened to her, even when she’d been a little child and Satine been her ori’vod wanting to look after her. It made her worry, more than she probably should have, but Bo had been out of her life since she went on the run with Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon and she was still learning how she had changed in the intervening years.
Accepting she would not be able to puzzle out her sister in a single night she followed suit and headed off to her own room. Tomorrow they could begin the long job of tracking down where the Spice went and where would be the best location to destroy it.
-
It was still dark when Satine jolted awake, confused as to what had woken her. For a moment panic gripped her, not for the first time, the fear that someone had finally found the isolated safehouse, Death Watch or Maul lurking just outside, ready to kill or capture her. Reason caught up with after a moment, as it always did. No one but Obi-Wan and her sister knew the location of the safehouse, and neither would give it away willingly. Her heart stopped its frantic beating at the thought. A cough from the fresher next door brought her back to herself, the sound followed by a groan that could have only come from Bo-Katan.
Her worry from earlier came back. The bruise on her head had looked vicious and the possibility of a concussion came to mind before she dismissed it. She’d been awake and alert at dinner, wolfing food down and arguing her points without any hesitation, and surely, she would have told her if she had any serious injuries.
Another cough forced her out of bed and to the fresher door, pausing just outside. “Bo’ika? Are you alright?” Invading her privacy might not end well for either of them.
From behind the door, she heard her mumble, something that sounded like “naas,” her sister switching to Mando’a for its simplicity, but when she coughed and groaned again Satine dismissed it as her being stubborn.
“I’m coming in,” if she was injured then she wouldn’t let her suffer through it alone, not when she had done in the past. The sight that greeted her was Bo-Katan curled around the toilet, bringing up what she’d eaten earlier that night. Satine was by her side in a moment, brushing her hair back from her face as she retched and holding it tight at the nape of her neck, her free hand rubbing circles across her shoulder blades. “Haalur Bo, just breathe slowly if you can.”
Gently she pulled her sister back against her chest once she had stopped vomiting, her head tucked almost fully under her chin as she shivered. At some point in the night Bo-Katan had surrendered her flight suit, the leggings and vest she was sat in doing little to keep her warm despite the sweat matting her hair and chafing her own hands over Bo’s skin seemed to be doing little except emphasising how thin she felt against her. Satine had always been taller than Bo-Katan, despite the beskar’gam making her younger sister look far more imposing. Tonight, for the first time in years, she saw Bo as the vulnerable child she had once been, small and innocent and curled into her chest after a nightmare, not the fierce and bold woman she had grown into. It made Satine’s heart burn with protectiveness. “How long have you been like this?”
Bo swallowed heavily, “not long, an hour or so.”
Satine sighed, reaching up for a damp cloth and smoothing it across the back of her neck. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“You were asleep.” Besides, it had been a long time since she’d had anyone to hold her hair back and soothe her. She’d forgotten she could even ask for that kind of care.
“And you should have woken me. You’re not on your own any more Bo’ika. You have me and Obi-Wan,” although she knew how her riduur and vod’ika felt about each other. It was a relationship that would need far more time and effort than they had had the opportunity for so far. “This is what happens when you eat your food like a Rancor, especially when you’ve been eating nothing but ration packs for who knows how long.” There was the briefest of nods against her collarbone before Bo-Katan lurched forward, another portion of her dinner making a reappearance. “Haalur Bo, haalur. It’ll be over soon,” she promised, unsure if it was true.
‘Soon,’ turned into another hour before Bo-Katan managed to keep water down, the sun just beginning to break the horizon when Satine helped her back to her bed, her already pale face even paler and the freckles on her skin standing out in sharp contrast. She had no doubt her sister was exhausted, Satine’s arms around her the only thing keeping her standing on the short journey there.
The old Mandalorian lullaby had eased her into a somewhat peaceful sleep, and now there was enough light and Bo-Katan was out of her flight suit she could see the bruises on her, the handprint on her shoulder, fingertip points pressed dark into pale skin, a second at the top of her spine. She had no doubt there would be others, but by the state of her knuckles, Bo had shared her pain. She’d never shied away from a fight, big or small, and it was why Satine knew she’d never be able to convince her to go into hiding. Mandalore was their fight, and they’d both attack in their own ways.
Between them, Satine figured they stood a hell of a chance of winning.
Kom’rk – Gauntlet (In this case, a type of ship)
Beskar’gam – Armour
Vod’ika – Little brother/sister
Nuhoy jahaala – Sleep well
Aruetii – Traitor (also outsider)
Jetii - Jedi
Jate’ca – Good night
Ori’vod – Older brother/sister
Naas – I’m fine (literally meaning ‘nothing’)
Haalur - Breathe
Riduur – Husband/wife/partner