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The Nite Owls' last mission had been a total failure. It had gone wrong, in every sense of the word. The elite Death Watch team had been assigned to retrieve a very high-value prisoner from a Republic cruiser. For the first half of the plan everything had gone smoothly, but evidently there was an error in their copies of the guard change times at the detention level. The patrol team had run into the clone division on duty, and the soldiers had raised the general alarm. To get away with it they had had to blow up the cruiser, and the prisoner with it.
At least that was what Randall had gleaned from Ursa as soon as they had returned. Apparently Bo-Katan, their leader, had been summoned by Pre, and it always meant nothing but trouble. It was not the first time this had happened. Vizla took out the frustration of every Death Watch defeat on poor Bo. Randall did not know why his uncle liked to hurt her so much. She was one of the strongest warriors loyal to his cause and the sister of his enemy, Duchess Satine Kryze.
Randall approached Bo's tent, leaning against one of the support poles. He knew her well enough to say that she would have liked to be alone. After a few minutes Ursa came out of the tent, and Randall hurried to meet her.
"What happened?" he asked immediately, although despite himself he already knew the answer.
Ursa raised an eyebrow and looked at him. "What do you think?" she said brusquely.
He sighed and made to open his mouth, but the Nite Owl raised a hand to shush him. "You know Bo-Katan, at times like this she wants to be left alone."
"I think a little company will do her good, and then someone has to check her wounds." the boy muttered the last sentence bitterly. He was loyal to the purpose of overthrowing the Duchess's government, but he had no particular sympathy for his uncle.
He patted Ursa on the shoulder and entered the small tent. Bo was sitting on the floor next to the bunk. She was huddled on the floor, clutching her knees to her chest and hiding her face there. It hurt him to see his best friend like this, all because of his uncle.
He sat down next to her, without saying anything, and laid a hand on her back, rubbing it gently. He kept the touch as light as possible; he did not want to bother her. He felt her trembling and sobbing softly.
"Bo?" he called to her.
She pulled up with her nose and wiped away her tears. "Go away." she said, trying to make her voice sound firm despite the crying.
"Bo, look at me." called Randall to her again, this time more firmly.
The Mandalorian raised her head and turned toward him, keeping her gaze down. Randall's heart missed a beat when he finally saw her face. She was sporting a split lower lip, a bleeding cut on her forehead, and a bruise on her left cheekbone. He shuddered at the mere thought of how many more she might have had under her armor.
"Happy? Now leave me alone." she spat acidly, but clearly unconvincing in the boy's eyes.
Randall in response pulled her into a hug, the armor clashing together unleashing a faint metallic clang. He would have expected to be repulsed, but instead the friend returned the embrace, resuming sobbing over him.
After several minutes Randall loosened the embrace and took a closer look at his friend's face. Her uncle had really butchered her, poor thing. Fortunately he had come equipped. He pulled a gauze and bacta band-aid out of his pants pocket. He reached out a hand to the girl's face and wiped away her tears, then took to dabbing the cut on her forehead. She hissed from the burning, but let him do it.
"I'm done, I promise," he said, concentrating on applying the band-aid without making it stick to the gloves. "Done. You'll probably be scarred, that's all I can do." he continued, applying some bacta to the bruise on her cheekbone as well.
"Thank you, Randall." Bo gave him one of her rare smiles, though small it was still something, and he could not have received better thanks. He would have done anything for his friends, especially for Bo-Katan.