(L,F&E 77) Points of View

[kalenath]

Istara Sharlina Andal felt a bit out of sorts. She wasn’t uncomfortable, not really. Ashla sang in her veins and she knew her strengths and weaknesses better than most. No, what bothered her was what she was doing at this very moment. She was walking onto a ship filled with Mandalorians. So far, she had passed two dozen fully armed and armored forms, all bristling with the readiness to fight. She could barely think for all the danger that crowded the atmosphere. The Bladeborn’s new Grandmaster shook her head slowly and spoke to her companion.

 

"Just to ask..." The Bladeborn’s voice was pitched to carry only to the ears of the armored woman walking beside her. “Are you sure I don’t have any open bounties on me at the moment?”

 

Trava Kalan, one of the Elders of the Mandalorian colony of Nova Ordo, snickered a bit. “Relax, Istara. If they were going to kill us, we would be dead.”

 

Istara sighed dramatically and shook her helmeted head. She was wearing her usual silver armor. She had attracted more than few glances, both curious and covetous. Her armor was not Bladeborn armor, not Sith armor, and certainly not Mandalorian armor. Many of the Mandos were looking at her, and their senses in the Force were speculative. “Oh that is so comforting, Trava.” She paused. “Do you?” She asked carefully.

 

"Actually yes." The Mandalorian woman in gray armor shrugged. “A bit of this, a bit of that. Mandalore has called for my presence, so I am safe until I speak to him. No one wants to cross him, with good reason. After? We shall see.”

 

Istara shook her head at the fatalism in the older woman’s voice. Trava Kalan was a downright dangerous woman. Tough, capable and forged in fires that would have destroyed lesser women, the Mandalorian Elder was one of the few beings that Istara could truly say she respected unreservedly. Istara didn’t always trust the Mandalorian -that would have been foolhardy- but she respected Trava and liked her. “I take it this kind of thing does not happen often.” She asked after they passed yet another strong point packed with soldiers who eyed them both warily.

 

"Nope." Trava shook her head. “Not many people actually question the Mandalore’s orders. Fewer ignore them. Not that we have, but he doesn’t know that. Likely he doesn’t care. He probably just wants to know why our clan has been acting the way it has.”

 

"Right." Istara blinked and spoke softly again. “Uh… And you are going to tell him… What?”

 

"Me?" Trava shrugged and her voice was as impassive as her armored visor. “The truth.”

 

"Oh." Istara looked at her friend and shook her head. “And this will go over well?”

 

"Go over well?" Trava snorted, a darkly humorous sound. “I doubt it. The good news is that you are in no danger unless you bring it on yourself. Or unless some young fool… Osik…” She cursed softly as a form in red armor barred their way.

 

Istara looked the Mandalorian over and shook her head slightly. The young make was obviously psyching himself up to do something. Probably planning to try his luck against her. Istara’s voice was soft when she spoke, but the temperature in the corridor seemed to plummet. “I wouldn’t.”

 

The red armored form laughed at her. “Should I be afraid of you, darjettii?” Whatever he might have expected, he could not have expected Istara to laugh in return. Trava was chuckling softly as well, but let Istara answer. It took a moment for Istara to stop laughing. And she was not laughing sarcastically, or bitterly. No, she was laughing with honest to the Force amusement. The red armored Mando seemed to freeze momentarily and Trava looked at Istara who shrugged.

 

"Yes you should, actually." Istara was still chuckling as she stepped forward. When she spoke it was humorous but lecturing. “Fear is a normal thing for anything mortal, Mandalorian. Everything that lives feels fear. Fear is nothing to be ashamed of, even for warriors. Without fear, how would we know what courage was? It is what you do with that fear that makes you strong or weak. Do you control it, or does it control you?”

 

The boy, because that was what he had to be, snarled at her. “You know nothing, aruetiise..” He broke off as Trava coughed loudly.

 

"You are going to die young." The Elder of Clan Ordo shook her head. “Beware boy. You insult a descendant of Kiana Luko.”

 

Whatever Istara might have expected, the hush that swept from all the armored forms that had surrounded them now was not it. The red armored Mandaloran snarled. “I don’t care if she is a descendant of the Sith Emperor, she has no business here among our vod…”

 

He broke off as a large hand grabbed him from behind and his armor made a ringing sound as it impacted the floor. He looked up and froze in seeing several blaster rifles pointed at him. One of the figures that ringed the two armored females now spoke.

 

“Some of us do remember.” The Mando said coldly.

 

Istara inclined her head to the speaker. “Thank you.”

 

The Mando who had spoken snorted in ironic humor. “We just don’t want to clean up the mess you would leave, Istara Sharlina Andal.”

 

Istara looked at the speaker. It was a Mandalorian female in light gray armor. “Have we met?”

 

"No." The woman shook her head. “But I have seen you in action. I was actually hunting you before the bounty was called off. It would have been an honor to kill you.”

 

Istara bowed formally. “It would have been an honor to fight you. But duty comes first.”

 

The female nodded and there was smile in her voice as she turned to go. “Don’t keep Mandalore waiting.” Then she was gone and the group broke up, most of the Mandos seemed amused by the scene. The red armored one on the floor was sputtering but everyone ignored him.

 

Istara started off again, Trava at her side. After a moment, Istara spoke. “Who was that? Her sense in Ashla was… odd.” The woman had resounded with danger and competence. But at the same time, there had been something else, something that Istara hadn’t been able to identify. A softness? No, it hadn’t been a weakness. Whatever it had been, it had been ephemeral, hard to see, let alone describe. She put it out of her mind, it wasn’t important.

 

Trava sighed quietly but kept pace with the Bladeborn. “That was Shae Visla, Istara. You do attract some high powered eyes, don’t you? Just try not to tick her off please, it would get so messy…”

 

"Well..." Istara shrugged, as if it were every day that she met one of the most infamous bounty hunters in the galaxy. “I will try, but I won’t back down either.”

 

Trava laughed out loud at that, drawing more than one eyeslit their way. “Istara, you are genetically incapable of backing down. Ah, what a Mandalorian you would have made. Pity the Bladeborn found you first.” The two women were chuckling softly as they made their way deeper into the rancor’s den, towards the lair of the Mandalore.

[kalenath]

As the two women walked, the tension level ramped up around them. This was a big ship, Istara wasn’t sure how big, but it was big. In typical Mandalorian style, it was not stylish, it was functional. And she didn’t need to be a pilot or naval type to understand exactly how many guns they had seen through various viewports as they walked. The rest of the ship seemed a little shoddy to Istara’s inexpert eyes, but the guns and other battle systems were in fine shape.

 

"Okay." Istara blew out a breath and spoke quietly as they walked. “Anything I should know or do?” It wasn’t every day that one met the leader of the Mandalorians after all.

 

"Nah." Trava shook her head. “Just be yourself. Try not to pick a fight with him though. He might take you up on it, and then, no matter who wins the fight, we lose. My clan will lose. I don’t want that. I came here to try and keep from getting them all killed.”

 

Istara shook her head slowly. “Right. That it?” She nodded towards a door they were approaching. The four guards at the door wore regular Mandalorian armor. But all were heavily armed and were eyeing the two women warily.

 

Trava nodded. “That’s it. You ready?” She asked quietly as they approached the door. Istara nodded silently and the two women walked forward only to pause as the four guards lowered their weapons into firing position. Trava’s voice was soft. “Is there a problem?”

 

One of the guards spoke sourly. “Mandalore has no time for traitors. Get lost aruetiise. Both of you.”

 

"I see..." Istara felt the shock that emanated from Trava, although it was not evident in her posture or words when she spoke evenly. “You are making a mistake. I was asked to come here, to explain my clan’s actions. I know that some of you…” She nodded to the four guards. “…don’t care about orders, circumstances, or anything else besides getting to kill as many people as you can. But I was ‘ordered’ to speak to Mandalore, so I will.”

 

"Get lost." The guard snorted. “Go away, and take your tame darjettii with you.”

 

Istara bristled at the insult, but stayed where she was as Trava moved forward a half step. The Elder’s voice was soft, silky and very, very cold. “So, you would deny me my right to audience. I see. How much did the Empire pay you to sell out your vode?”

 

At that all four of the guards froze. The spokesperson snarled at Trava. “Get lost, ordinii. And expect obliteration soon.”

 

"No." Trava sighed and shook her helmeted head slowly. “I think not.”

 

The male Mando laughed. “Well, then, I guess we get paid for your heads.” He swung his blaster into firing position only to freeze as the distinctive snap hiss of lightsabers igniting silenced everything in the corridor.

 

"Right." Two silver blades hung negligently from Istara’s hands. All eyes were on her now and she spoke slowly and carefully. “Let me make something perfectly clear, Mandalorian. You threaten my friend. I do not fight for money, I do not fight because of addiction, I do not fight because someone has blackmail material over me.” Three of the guards shivered a bit in turn as Istara spoke as if she were speaking to each one separately. “And I certainly do not fight because my idiot son decided to try and prove himself against a foe far beyond his abilities. I fight when I must, how I must. If you attack my friend, you and your allies will die here. You will not stop us, all it will cost us is time.”

 

The Mando snarled at her. “You are not invincible darjettii…” He broke off and choked a bit. All the blasters aimed at Istara now, and she just stood there, a small smile visible though her helmet visor.

 

“Ashla is great for grabbing things, including private parts.” Istara’s voice was hard now. “Bring it, fools. I am sick of being nice to people like you.” Her blades were in a ready position now. No one moved, it was uncertain if any of the Mandos or Istara were breathing.

 

Everything stopped as Trava coughed, breaking the stillness. “For the record, ordinii…” Trava said slowly. “Istara could have killed that moron. She chose not to. Is that weakness? Maybe. But… You want my head? Come take it.” She lowered her hands to her sides and bowed her head. “And then you can explain to Mandalore why I was not able to answer his questions.”

 

The Mando managed to get his breath back. “We will tell him you attacked us. He is already displeased with you. He will believe us.”

 

"Oh?" Istara smiled a little. Only an idiot would have called it a friendly smile. “Will he?”

 

The Mando readied his weapon, but then froze as another voice spoke. “Indeed. Will I?”

 

Istara did not move as another Mandalorian appeared. This one had his helmet off, but his face... Even without the golden armor, Istara would have known who this being was instantly. His sense in the Force was hard, tough and capable. As hard, tough and capable as regular Mandalorians were, this man was more so, and there was something more about him, a charisma that Istara could not help but admire a bit. His scarred face scrutinized her and Trava and then he turned his gaze back to the four guards who stood frozen.

 

Istara inclined her head in formal greeting, neither subservient nor disrespectful. “Mandalore.”

 

The being who led the Mandalorian clans nodded back to Istara, and his voice held just a hint of humor now. “Istara Sharlina Andal, your infamy precedes you. You can put your blades away, these are leaving.” All four guards lowered their blasters.

 

Istara waited until the blasters were not pointing at her before extinguishing her blades and putting then back where they belonged. Using lightsabers felt wrong to her, she never had liked using them. They were efficient, but… They just felt wrong to her. All four of the guards walked away, their stances worried.

 

Mandalore looked at Trava and then focused on Istara. “You could have killed them. You could have killed that idiot Stephanus. Why didn’t you?”

 

"Yes I could have. But..." Istara shrugged and her voice was measured. “Didn’t want to make a mess on your decks. I am a guest after all, right? Wouldn’t be polite.”

 

Mandalore laughed heartily at that. “Ah, you Bladeborn. Always the polite sorts until someone ticks you off. I like you, woman. Thank you for not fouling my decks.” He sobered as he turned to Trava. “Elder Kalan.” Trava nodded to him. “Come in, I was expecting you. But even leaders of empires have to answer the call of nature.” Istara smiled a little and Mandalore looked at her. “Bladeborn?”

 

Istara shook herself and relaxed. “I was just thinking how unheroic and unglorious it would be to tell some enemy that you need a break in the middle of a fight to use the refresher.”

 

Mandalore snorted. “I was warned about your sense of humor.” He led the way into another room. It was not what Istara had expected. Instead of a throne room with courtiers and retainers all around, this room was bare and empty.

 

"Ah..." Istara’s eyes narrowed as she saw a three chairs. None within reach of the others. She paused and shook her head. “No offense, Mandalore, but I don’t trust other people’s chairs. The floor works well for me.”

 

Mandalore smiled, but there was no humor in it. “Me too. You and I are somewhat alike, are we not? Weapons forged to fight and kill.” Istara nodded.

 

"Yes." The Baldeborn’s voice was soft, but clear as she knelt in formal pose on the floor near the middle of the room. “I was forged by the Bladeborn and you were forged by the arenas. We are the sum of our experiences, good and bad.” Istara froze as Trava sat in one of the chairs and an audible click sounded. “Trava…”

 

"Be at ease Istara." Trava sighed and spoke evenly. “I know. If Mandalore chooses my death, I am dead. I knew it was wired when I sat, but I am Manda. I did not come here to fight, Istara. I came here to speak my case and to have Mandalore choose life or death for my clan.”

 

Mandalore’s words were soft and respectful as he looked from Istara to Trava and back. “Oya Manda. Speak, vod. Why have you ignored the call? Why have you sided with our enemies?”

 

Trava reached up and undid her helmet. She set it down in her lap and spoke softly. “This may take some time, Mandalore.”

 

Mandalore smiled a bit sourly. “I cleared my schedule.”

 

Istara chuckled but did not move as Trava nodded. “Our colony was set up by Mandalore the Preserver, 300 years ago. When he did, he ordered us to stay hidden. This has grated on many of us.” Mandalore nodded, but did not interrupt. “We did. We obeyed our commands. Until a rather special individual dropped into our laps. Will Kalenath is not a normal soldier by anyone’s reckoning.”

 

Mandalore stiffened slightly at that name. Trava nodded and continued. “It was a bit… difficult… keeping him imprisoned.”

 

Istara chuckled. “Yep, you could say that. How many times has he escaped from jails and prisons?”

 

Trava smiled but continued. “Yes, he… He is Mandokarla, Mandalore. He is Mando. Even if he does not wear the armor, or answer the call, he is Mando, a perfect weapon honed, trained and ready to fight or kill.” Mandalore looked at her, his face impassive, and she sighed. “It was self preservation. We didn’t want any other clan to get him. So we adopted him.”

 

"I don't believe it." Mandalore shook his head slowly. “You…adopted… one of the most wanted men in the galaxy?”

 

"Well..." Trava sighed in memory. “It …wasn’t quite that easy…”

[kalenath]

<Nine years pervious, Mandalorian colony Nova Ordo>

 

“…that… man…” The green armored Mandalorian medic was cursing in at least four languages as he strode from the area the clan had set up as a prison. As prisons went, it was fairly comfortable. But it was still a prison, with guards and all.

 

The gray armored Elder shook her head and spoke softly. “Still the same, huh E’hn?”

 

The Mando hawked and likely would have spat, except he was wearing a buy’ce and it wouldn’t have had anywhere to go inside the helmet. “He is refusing treatment, Elder. Idiot can barely sit up and he tried to slug me.”

 

Trava Kalan, Elder and leader of part of this madhouse called Nova Ordo ,shook her head again. “Does he have a death wish? The man can barely move without vomiting and he is attacking people trying to help him? Attacking the guards I can see, but…” She sighed. “How hard did you hit him?”

 

"I wanted to really hurt him." E’hn, one of the few medical professionals the colony boasted, shrugged. “Hard enough. He will be out for while. Are we getting anywhere with the Wookiee?”

 

"No." Trava shook her head again, and this time her voice was sour. “This doesn’t make any sense. Why won’t they talk to us? We are not enemies.”

 

Another voice answered her. “They don’t know that, Elder.” Trava turned to see one of her friends approach from nearby. Olia Ordo was an older woman, but still fit and strong. Her son, as always, was right behind her, a quiet and deadly blue shadow. Trava’s eyes flicked to the boy and then away. It was none of her business how that family managed things, as long as they did. If they killed each other, well… She looked at the red armored woman and inclined her head for Olia to continue. After a moment, the woman did. “I did some checking, Trava… There was nothing on his ship of a personal nature. Weapons, rations, spare parts. Nothing else. No mementos, no nothing. No dirty magazines! How often do men fly around in a heavily armed smuggler type freighter with no dirty magazines? That ship is sterile, Trava. Someone set it up that way in case it had to be abandoned. He, or the Wookiee, wiped the nav data, so we have no idea where the flarg he came from. Trava… Something does not add up here. Something is wrong.”

 

"I agree." Trava shook her head slowly. “Should we try harsher methods of interrogation?” This was directed at the boy behind Olia as much as Olia. He shook his head silently. Trava bit back a sigh, Cyare never talked anymore. He never actually connected with anyone. Ever since his sister had grabbed him and brought him back against his will, he had been a mute statue in public with everyone but his mom and sister. “Why not?” She bit out. It came out harsher than she had planned, but the boy was infuriating!

 

"I don't know who he is, but I do know what he is." Olia sighed. “That man is a hard case, Trava. You know this. Can he be broken? Sure. Anyone can be. Will it be easy? No. And we have no guarantee it will work at all. Trava… He has been interrogated before, by the Sith.” Trava hissed at that, but nodded. Sith interrogations left scars that were easy to recognize. The Elder unconsciously rubbed her leg where her armor covered a scar left by Force lightning. “The man is obviously a soldier. And there is something about him…” She shook her head.

 

Trava sighed deeply. “I will talk to him.” She paused as Cyare spoke.

 

“Good luck.” Then he was gone.

 

Olia stared after him for a moment and sighed. “Stubborn men…” She said with a mix of hate and worry in her tone.

 

Trava looked at her friend. “How are you doing?” She and Olia had been friends for a long time. To lose her mate the way Olia had…And then the rest of it, her boy running off and staying away for years, only to be dragged back by his older sister and sat down with his mother to talk. According to gossip, the girl had stood over both of them with a rifle just to make sure they did talk… Trava wondered at times if Olia was sane, but she was no danger to the colony and that was what mattered.

 

"I am okay." Olia shrugged. “One day at a time, Elder.” She snorted. “And Jirina has a large club ready for both of us if we get too far out of line.”

 

"Yeah." Trava had to laugh at that. She could just see the daughter of that family doing just that. Then she sobered. “If you need to talk…” Her voice trailed off as Olia nodded.

 

Olia’s voice was strong and proud now. “We will manage Elder. We will survive.”

 

Trava smiled under her buy’ce. “Oya Manda.” She sighed and started towards the room their ‘guest’ was sequestered in. When she opened the door, her hand flew to her blaster. Their ‘guest’ was not only conscious, but had managed to get the cover off the door controls and had been trying to hack them. “Where do you think you are going?”

 

The man was a mess. He had been slammed around in his restraints during the dogfight over the planet where he had managed to take out no less than six(!) pirate fighters. The doc had seen some odd neurological damage as well as the various scrapes and bruises that unarmored forms sustained when they impacted hard objects. The bandage around his head was for the worst of the superficial wounds. Head wounds bled a lot, they always did. His black hair was a mess, from the wound and E’hn’s treatment. He was not the gentlest of medics, but he was very, very good at what he did. He was odd, even for one of Trava’s odd kin, but he was very good at what he did. Even if he DID insist in being called Three, Ehn in Mando’ade, instead of his birth name. Trava knew why, and let him have his quirks.

 

This man though… His green eyes bored into her helmet and he stood coiled and ready to spring. Trava shook her head. “Do you really want to do this? We mean you no harm. You did us a service. Killing those pirates. All of our ships are elsewhere, the scum would have done a lot of damage, maybe made off with some of our people.”

 

The man kept his eyes fixed on her. “Mandalorian.” Trava nodded. “You serve the Empire.”

 

"No." The Elder shook her head. “No, we don’t.”

 

The man’s eyes narrowed. “You could be lying.”

 

Trava smiled a bit sadly. “I could be, but I am not.” She holstered her blaster. “Do we fight now or talk? Either way is fine by me.” The man’s eyes held bafflement for a moment before they returned to their impassive stare. “Let’s start with names. Mine is Trava Kalan. I am an Elder of this colony.”

 

The man shook his head slowly. “You don’t know who I am? Really?” He asked somewhat incredulous.

 

"No." Trava snorted. “We don’t have a lot of contact with the outside. We are a seeder colony, set up centuries ago to hide, to wait for the call of a true Mandalore. Not the puppet the Imperials used to trick most of the clans into following them. We are not slaves, and we will not be slaves.”

 

The raven haired man shook his head slowly, but did not take his eyes from Trava. “I don’t know a lot about your people. The few times I have met Mandalorians, it has been in battle.”

 

Trava would have answered, but her com chimed and she paused before answering it. “Kalan.”

 

The voice of one of her sons came up. Ric sounded worried. “Buir, we have identified him. Get out of there!”

 

Trava blinked. Her son was brave and strong. What could scare him so badly. “Why?” She asked quietly.

 

"He is wanted. Says he is very dangerous." Ric’s voice was strained. “He is Will Kalenath, former Republic soldier, fighter pilot and member of Dragon Squadron. Buir… The Imperial bounty on him is 150k, the Republic one is 75k, both are alive only.”

 

"Hmmm." Trava’s voice was soft as she looked the man over. “Are they? I will call you back.” She cut his strangled protest off in mid syllable.

 

Will smiled, a feral gleam entering his eyes. “You just IDed me.” It wasn’t a question. Trava nodded. “So, you are going to sell me to the Empire.” Trava shook her head and Will looked at her. “Then to the Republic?” Trava shook her head again. “Well... I don’t know of any others with big bounties on me. Have I missed any?”

 

Trava shrugged. “I don’t know. But I have a better idea, Will Kalenath.”

 

Will stared at her. “Oh?”

 

"Yes." Trava grinned under her helmet. “How would you like to join our family?”

 

Will stared at her and then snarled. “No way in hell.”

 

Trava sighed. This might be a long day. But at least it would be interesting. “Look, we can offer you a lot of things. Security for one…”

[kalenath]

<The present>

 

For a long moment after Trava finished speaking there was silence. Then Istara shook her head slowly. “So you gave Will a place. Dangerous that.”

 

"Self preservation." Trava snorted softly. “Better to have him as an ally than an enemy.”

 

Istara laughed at that. “True, very true.” She glance to where Mandalore was sitting, he had remained silent through the entire recitation. She discarded subterfuge and spoke bluntly. “Are you going to kill my friend and her clan?”

 

Mandalore sat for several minutes, thinking hard. When he spoke it was soft and careful. “Trava Kalan, will you swear allegiance to me?”

 

Trava bowed her head and then, slowly reached up and put her buy’ce back on. She met his eyes calmly with her view slit. Her voice was sad when she spoke. “We can’t. We are not your enemies, but you serve the Empire. There are many more lives at stake than my clan’s.”

 

"Yes." Mandalore nodded slowly. “I know. What possessed you to put that Enclave on your world, Trava?” At his quiet words, both women reacted. Trava’s hand flew to her blaster, but froze on the handle. Istara’s hands flew to her sword, but she froze as well as Mandalore raised an empty hand. “The Empire doesn’t know.” Both women’s eyes went wide.

 

Istara hand her hand on her sword hilt now and didn’t move. She knew this man was dangerous, possibly a match even for her in hand to hand combat. Anyone who survived for as long as he had on the arenas on Geonosis was good. He had to have some kind of backup as well; someone like him did not invite a Bladeborn into a meeting without some kind of backup.

 

"You..." The Bladeborn’s voice was soft now. “You didn’t tell the Empire?”

 

"No." Mandalore sighed and spoke calmly. “No, I didn’t. The information was intercepted from a bounty hunter working from a scum named Zim. That is how I knew where your clan was, vod. Yes, there is massive bounty on the Stormhawk, justifiably so from what I understand. Yes, the Empire would pay a great deal for information on where their dependants are hiding. But they are not my enemies. They have actually done me a service a time or two, unknowingly.” He sat back, as if he didn’t have a care in the world that two dangerous women had hands on weapons close by.

 

Trava was shaking her head. “Mandalore… I…” She sighed and took her hand from her gun. “I can’t. That leaves me with one alternative, doesn’t it?” She made as if to rise, despite the explosive charge underneath her rump. Istara bit back a cry of alarm, but Mandalore shook his head.

 

When the man who led the Mandalorian clans spoke it was soft, tired almost. “Trava, wait… You know… I never really wanted this job. I just wanted to be the best. And then that moron Mandalore the Lesser pushed things and I had to shoot him, and now I am stuck with it.” He shrugged. “It has its fun parts, but they seem fewer and fewer these days. We, the clans, are in a bit of a bind at the moment, Trava.”

 

"Oh." Istara blinked and then nodded slowly. “You don’t want to serve the Empire.” It wasn’t a question.

 

"Me?" Mandalore made a face. “No. Their history is not one for making people happy with working for them. But the Republic has its problems as well.”

 

"Yeah." Trava snorted sourly and when she spoke it was caustic. “I’ll say. Have you seen anything on what the Special Branch of Republic Intelligence has been doing?” Mandalore nodded and Trava snarled. “I and my clan are after their shebs. We don't want to fight other clans. Our orders were clear, but… It seemed so easy. Adopt Will, get him to add to the family, back us up, maybe get some training in flying. But then… The rest of them, and then Maria and Sara… It got out of hand. I know that. I knew that if Mandalore called we would have to answer, but I never expected it. We were ready of course, but…”

 

"I know." Mandalore nodded slowly. He spoke slowly and carefully now. “I could ignore you until your fleet interfered with that darjetii Zelkin Infinium and his stupid schemes. You were seen, your ships were noted. Old ships with the best modern tech are fairly distinctive, Trava.”

 

"Yeah, Worried about that." Trava sighed and slumped in her chair. “It was a great fight. You should have been there.” She gave a feral smile.

 

Mandalore smiled thinly. “I am sorry I missed it. But then you attacked a Sith fleet with the Stormhawk… Trava, Trava…” He sighed. “The Empire has put pressure on me to do something about you. And no matter how strong the clans are, we cannot fight the Empire. We have to remain neutral.”

 

Istara blinked. “Neutral…” She mused. Both of the others looked at her and she shook her head slowly. “Mandalore, what does the Empire say about me?”

 

"You?" Mandalore looked at her and shrugged. “Nothing. The rest of the Bladeborn are wanted fugitives now. You are not. There are actually three bounties out for your head, none greater than 20k credits, and no hunter is going to dare try and take you for that low a sum.” He smiled at her expression. “That idiot Stephanus was trying to make a name for himself. And he has, from now on I am calling him ‘Idiot’.”

 

Istara smiled a little and shook her head. “Do you know who put them out?”

 

Mandalore smiled, it was not a nice smile. “Two of them were posted by people who are no longer among the living, but the bounties have not been cancelled. The third…” He paused and pulled a datapad out of a pouch. He perused it and nodded. “The third is anonymous. It is posted as a vengeance killing for someone you killed on Coruscant. But it doesn’t feel right, which is why none of my people have taken it. It feels like someone is setting bounty hunters up to get killed. I mean… What kind of fool puts a measly 20k on you? 100K or more and serious people would get involved. You will be facing wanna-bes, has-beens and idiots like Stephanus.”

 

"Okay, good to know." Istara’s eyes narrowed. “Hmmm…” She shook her head and shrugged. “Nothing I can do about that. Am I going to be attacked on this ship?”

 

Mandalore laughed sourly. When he spoke it was cold. “Any idiot who does, you can feel free to kill. Anyone dumb enough to try for such a measly sum we can do without.”

 

Istara smiled right back, her smile just as cold. “And Trava?”

 

"That is harder." Mandalore shook his head slowly. “I cannot have clans running around not listening to me. If I let that happen, my authority will evaporate. I cannot make exceptions.” Trava bowed her head and sat quietly, but Istara nodded slowly.

 

"I understand." The Bladeborn’s voice was curious now. “What if… instead of being rogue, she and hers had been working for someone? At that time and now?” Trava jerked in place, but froze as she remembered the bomb under her seat.

 

"Working?" Mandalore looked at Istara, his gaze appraising. “And who might that have been? It would depend greatly on who it was.”

 

"Well..." Istara nodded and her face was serious now. “They were not working for me. I didn’t even know they existed until recently. But technically, I recently found out that a lot of what I have been doing has been in the interests of another group.” Trava glanced quizzically at Istara but remained silent. “Don’t you just love it when you find out that you have been working for someone you have never heard of?”

 

Mandalore snorted in sour amusement. “No. Continue.” He said quietly.

 

Istara nodded slowly. “I don’t know if you are aware of this or not, but Special Branch is not the true threat that we are facing now.”

 

Mandalore looked at her, a puzzled expression on his face now. “Is it that thing called Bob? I lost half a dozen hunters figuring out he is not human.”

 

"No." Istara shook her head. “You know I am an ambassador to the Empire, do you know to who?”

 

"I got a report." Mandalore looked at her and nodded slowly. “A race called the Sitolon, one I have never encountered. No records exist of them, so they hide better than anyone I have ever seen.”

 

"Not entirely correct." Istara smiled thinly. “Records do exist, but they are ancient and hard to find. They have been fighting a war for millennia, essentially a civil war. They also hunted Trugoy for an ancient betrayal. They have been manipulating events behind the scenes for thousands of years.”

 

"Oh?" Mandalore looked from Istara to Trava. “And you work for them?” He asked quietly.

 

"Uh..." Trava‘s eyes were wide and her voice was stunned. “Not that I know of…”

 

Istara smiled, but there was no mirth in it. “The Sitolon are as neutral as you are. We do not serve the Empire as slaves or servants. We are uneasy allies. We have a nonaggression pact at the moment. It helps that we can hide very well.”

 

Mandalore gazed at Istara speculatively. “We?”

 

"Yes, 'we'." Istara nodded. “I count myself among them now. I am Bladeborn, true Bladeborn, not Trugoy, Morey or Bob’s sects.”

 

Mandalore blinked, slightly confused. “Who is Morey?”

 

Trava grimaced as Istara scowled. The mando woman spoke softly. “You know his other name, the Bladeborn will not speak it now. He was called Ravishaw.”

 

Mandalore snarled and looked like he wanted to spit. “Ravishaw… He is Bladeborn? I could hardly believe that.”

 

"He was." Istara nodded. “He was cast from Trugoy’s sect and the name he chose on the completion of his trial was wiped from the memory of all Bladeborn not affiliated with him.”

 

Mandalore shook his head slowly, bemused by this new information. “You should have killed him.”

 

"Well..." Istara sighed and looked tired suddenly. “It wasn’t for lack of trying. But he had Trugoy’s Bladeborn pegged. His masters set them up to be branded renegades.” Now her face was hard. “I will find him again, and when I do…” Her voice trailed off as Mandalore nodded.

 

The leader of the Mandalorian clans nodded slowly. “Fair enough. So… Trava’s clan is actually employed by allies of the Empire… That changes things…significantly.”

 

Trava was shaking her head. “Mandalore…We follow the Preserver’s ways. We cannot swear to you.” She slumped and stood in one swift motion. But nothing happened. She stared at the chair and then at Mandalore who smirked.

 

“I don’t want to kill you, Trava Kalan. You are true Mando. Your friend here has given me reason not to.” He held up a small remote. “Try to be a bit more circumspect in the future. You keep killing Sith and leaving witnesses, then they get ticked off. If they get ticked off, I will get ticked off. Clear?” Trava stared at him and nodded slowly. He continued in a cold tone. “If you move against me, I will kill you and every member of your clan down to your pets. However…” He turned to Istara. “I know the threat you face, Istara Sharlina Andal. You will need all the help you can get.”

 

"I know." Istara nodded respectfully. “Thank you.”

 

"Well, that is done." Mandalore smiled and nodded. “Will you join me for a meal?”

 

The two women exchanged glance and in unison replied. “We would be honored.”

[kalenath]

Mandalorian meals were certainly not for the faint of heart, Istara mused as she ate another bite of a casserole that was very good. It was also a high yield nuclear assault on her taste buds, but she just smiled as she swallowed. It would take a lot more than spicy food to upset her. Mandalorians were a simple people, but at the same time, very complex. They existed for the same purpose Istara did, to push themselves, to better themselves through conflict. On one level, it was what the Sith were trying to do, evolution through struggle, not that Istara had any inclination to say that here. She enjoyed her health.

 

She took another bite and swallowed, listening politely to what the neighbors were saying. Her appearance beside Mandalore, with Trava still alive beside them both, had silenced any potential mutters. She had to admire Mandalore. The man was seriously cunning. Simply by appearing without explanation as to why he had spared Trava, no one dared ask. Questioning Mandalore was likely a very quick way to die. She realized that the Mando male at her side had asked a question and smiled pleasantly. “I am sorry. I was enjoying the Tingillar. What did you say?”

 

The man, who had been introduced as Huril, nodded to her with a smile on his face. “Yes, that is a good batch. I asked if your people remembered Kiana Luko.” A hush swept around the table they were sitting at as the Huril’s words were heard.

 

Istara looked at Mandalore, who smiled and nodded. Istara nodded. “We do. A lot of information has been lost over the centuries, despite my Order’s best efforts. I am afraid that Trugoy let us forget she had been Mando.” A hiss of disapproval swept the room but stopped as Istara continued. “I found some other records recently and we will not forget again. But... We have a rule: Once we take our oaths, accept our burdens, we are no longer who we were. We are Bladeborn, no more, no less. I think…” She paused. “I think it was to shield Kiana while she healed that that tradition started.”

 

"What?" Huril looked confused. “Shield her? She was one of the deadliest combatants in your or our history by all accounts.”

 

"She became so, later." Istara nodded and her face was bleak now, she hated even hearing about children in distress. “But remember, when Trugoy found her, she was adiik still.” Her use of the Mandalorian word for ‘child’ had more than one mando nodding soberly. “She had not passed her verd’goten, her trial to adulthood. Her clan was dead… And she was… not happy.”

 

Huril snorted in sour amusement. “I cannot imagine she was a great student.” A laugh swept the room and Istara joined in.

 

Istara shook her head and looked at Mandalore. “No. No she wasn’t. With your permission Mandalore?” She asked politely. Wouldn’t do to insult the man in his own eating hall.

 

"Go ahead." The acclaimed leader of the Mandalorian clans nodded with a smile. “I have heard the story, but I bet your version is a bit different from ours.”

 

"Right..." Istara grinned. “Remind me not to bet against you any time soon.” The Mandalorians around her cracked up laughing. They enjoyed good jokes and betting against the man who had risen from obscurity to become the leader of the Mandalorian people was a joke. She sighed and spoke softly, but easily audible to all the listeners who paid close attention now. “Yes, Kiana was a bit of a handful…”

 

<A bit over nine hundred years previous>

 

“…and I don’t care what you say, midget!” The young woman snarled as her balance shifted again. The fact that she was standing on a surface seemed to be rotating was not helping her. It also did not help that her shoulder was not even close to healed yet. “I will not call you ‘Master!’ Mandalorians call no being master! I will have my revenge!”

 

"oh?" The small brown form who sat nearby watched impassive as the girl he had rescued from death at the hands of the Julioc clan tried to keep her balance. His voice was just the perfect tone, insolent and demanding. “And how will you manage that, ‘girl’? You can barely stand upright, let alone walk. How are you going to kill an entire clan of fully trained, armed and armored warriors like you are?”

 

Kiana Luko snarled at the small brown form. “Julioc are not warriors!” She bit out as she took another step and nearly fell, snarling as she forced herself back to her feet. “I am!”

 

When she had woken, she had known that she was no longer on a planet. The air and gravity were different. Not bad, just different. She had never been in a spacecraft before, but this was everything she might have expected. The room she had woken in was small and Spartan, but comfortable. Her injuries had been tended and her arm… She glared at the cast that held her arm rigidly in place, and the straps that held her shoulder immobile. She had broken her collarbone, and her arm muscles had been badly wrenched as well, or at least that was what the strange metal thing had said to her when she had woken confused. It had called itself M3-T6. She had never seen anything like it. It was totally unlike the robots that her father and brother had used to dig. Her family had not been poor, per say, but miners had no need for medical droids. One survived, or they did not. It was a hard galaxy. She broke her thoughts off as the being who had called himself Trugoy scoffed.

 

The small brown being’s voice was scornful. “You? A warrior? Even by Mandalorian standards, you are fairly pathetic girl. You have not even passed your trial to adulthood.”

 

"You...!" Kiana had taken all she would from this being. He had saved her, yes. But he was so arrogant! She so wanted to wipe that supercilious smile off the tiny being’s face! “Die you vaar’ika!” She charged the being, her good hand outstretched to rend and tear. Even unarmored and clad in a patient gown with one arm immobilized, she would defend her family’s honor.

 

Trugoy let her come, a smile on his face. A smile that vanished as Kiana stopped in mid swing and delivered a perfectly balanced snap kick. She didn’t need both hands to be dangerous. But then Kiana’s eyes went wide as her ankle was caught by two strong tiny hands. A yank and her center of balance went somewhere other than she had planned. She gave an unconscious cry of fear as she went flying through the air. No matter how big this being was, he was strong! She cried out again as she landed on her bad shoulder, but rolled to her feet as she had been taught. She didn’t bother to try and fight now, she darted for the hatch that was closest, only to freeze as the tiny form flew over her head and landed barring it. She didn’t move, scared out of her mind as the small brown being strode towards her. He was beyond dangerous, beyond deadly, something far, far more. He was so far beyond her ability it just wasn’t funny.

 

"Ah..." Trugoy stopped just out of reach and shook his head slowly. “I never asked you to call me ‘Master’ girl. If you had bothered to listen to what I said, you might have heard what I actually said.” He sighed and then, with two swift moves, pinned her chest down on the floor. The pain was excruciating, but Kiana was not whimpering as her good arm was pulled out behind her. Trugoy spoke into her ear as she struggled against his quite unbreakable hold. “Think, girl… What did I say?”

 

"I..." Kiana tried again to break the hold, but couldn’t. Pressure on her wrist had the bones cracking and she bit back a scream as the small brown form that was astride her now applied more pressure. “I won’t serve you!” She snarled as she tried to roll the insignificant seeming mass off of her back.

 

Then, her cheek stung. The pressure that was holding her in place vanished and a soft touch pulled her chin up. Trugoy’s eyes were so deep, so blue… She was drowning in them. His voice was soft and comforting now.

 

“I am not asking you to serve me, girl." Trugoy said gently. "I am asking you to let me help you, to let me teach you. I can help you gain your revenge. But you need to understand that if I do… Nothing will ever be the same. Nothing can bring your family back, Kiana.”

 

"I..." Kiana felt her eyes burn, but she managed to keep the tears from falling. The physical pain from her arm and shoulder were only the smallest parts of what was causing the tears. “Why?” She managed to speak in an almost normal tone. “Why help me?”

 

"Because I can." Trugoy sighed, but kept his gentle grip on her chin, keeping her eyes locked on his. “Because it is the right thing to do. Kiana Luko, I see a potential in you I have not seen in centuries. I see a chance for my own redemption in you. But mainly, you are hurt, you are alone, and you are grieving. Let me help.”

 

"I don't understand." Kina could only shake her head, utterly baffled. “Why?” She repeated softly, disbelieving. “Jetii and Darjetii don’t help, they take, or kill. They fight. They don’t help Mandalorians…”

 

"I know. But..." Trugoy smiled sadly. “I am not Jedi, Dark Jedi or Sith, Kiana Luko. I am Bladeborn, something in between. Your pain calls to me, and I want to help you. Will you let me?”

 

"I... I don't know..." Kiana shook her head slowly, utterly baffled. When she spoke it was soft and scared. “I don’t know what to do… Nothing is the same anymore…” She slumped.

 

"No..." Trugoy sighed and then somehow, she was on her back and her head was lying in his lap as he stroked her hair, calming her as she cried. “No it’s not, child. This will be a hard road, filled with pain and fear. But it is one that you can travel, with my help.”

 

"What...?" Kiana stared at the being who held her, who suddenly did not appear as a small brown form. No, his form was light, white with dark streaks through it. But now, for some odd reason, she wasn’t afraid. She could… feel… his compassion, his worry, his fear for her. She stared at him and then he was back to what he had been the first time she had seen him, a small brown almost comical form with long ears and huge eyes. Her voice was soft now. “What do I do, Master Trugoy…?”

 

"First thing..." Truguy smiled at her, “Call me ‘Teacher’, Kiana.”

[kalenath]

Despite all of her training, despite all of her ancestral stubbornness, Kiana was scared out of her mind. It had been along four years since Trugoy had found her and taken her in. She focused as she had been taught and breathed deeply. The scratching sound came again and she looked around slowly, her blind eyes trying to find what sought her in this cave. There had been no light at all since her glowlamp had fallen from her hand into a crevice and vanished when she had stumbled. Her sense in the Force had kept her from falling into pits several times, but then she had heard the scritch of claws on stone. Something was in here with her.

 

When Trugoy had taken her out of her usual daily regime of exercise and study, she had been thrilled. Her first solo mission, she was ecstatic, but at the same time, worried. What if she messed up? Admittedly, go and retrieve a tablet of Sith runes without looking at it was not a strenuous exercise. Or it shouldn’t have been. Trugoy would not be happy with her.

 

She didn’t want to disappoint Trugoy. She snorted, darkly amused. The small brown being who she had hated at first had become more than a teacher, more than a friend. He had assumed the role of father in her life and she found she missed his quiet counsel. She even missed his not so quiet counsel. She rubbed her head again where he had tagged her with the pommel of his lightsaber the last time and smiled a bit. His methods took some getting used to after her father’s teaching. Her birth father had been a hard man, utterly uncompromising and unable to accept anything less than the best from his offspring. She had known he had loved her, but… This was different. Trugoy was no less demanding, indeed, he was MORE demanding than her parents had ever been. But then again, she was no longer a thirteen year old. She had studied a great deal of anatomy and biology with Trugoy, so she knew her body was changing, growing, maturing. She felt differently now, things looked and smelled…

 

Kiana paused. Smell. What did she smell? She was wearing armor, but the helmet was open faced, for better visibility under normal circumstances and… Hair? Why would she smell hair? Or fur? She froze. She froze in place as something growled nearby. Her hand forged steel blade was in her hand and she stretched out with her feelings, trying to sense what was threatening her. What she sensed surprised her. Something large and furred stood between her and something that felt…wrong…in the Force. That had to be what she was after. But the large furred thing wasn’t moving.

 

Kiana swore in the recesses of her mind. Never the easy way. She shook her head and took a step. The growl deepened. Kiana’s voice was loud in the cave although her voice was pitched softly. “I have no quarrel with you.”

 

She laced her soothing words with the Force, trying to promote peace. Fighting was always supposed to be a last resort for Bladeborn, Trugoy had always said. Often it was needed, and needed quickly. But it was never supposed to be the FIRST resort. Kiana, raised as she had been in a warrior society, had taken a long time to learn that and she still had trouble at times. The growl intensified and Kiana sighed. So much for being a peacekeeper. She opened herself to the Force as the beast sprang.

 

As the beast charged her, she waited until it was committed before dodging to the side. Her blade licked out, quick as a whip, severing the tendons of one foreleg. The beast fell in a heap as one of the legs it had planned to land on did not support its weight and then rolled to three legs to charge again. Kiana stood ready to meet the charge. Even with no light at all to see by she could take this thing easily… Her thoughts broke off as she sensed something else. Something that she had not expected, but something that made perfect sense. The beast charged again and this time, Kiana let it come. Her armor took the impact and she rolled with the creature, keeping its fangs and claws from her as she moved it just right.

 

“Gotcha.” Kiana said quietly as she touched the beast on the side of the head, ignoring the snapping jaws. The Force flowed from her into the beast, soothing, calming, sedating. The beast’s sense in the Force was confused and then it collapsed in heap beside her. A high pitched wailing scream came from nearby and Kiana rolled to her feet as another form, this one much smaller, charged her. Kiana grabbed the small beast by the neck and held it at arm’s length as it snapped at her. “Now, now, none of that adiik. Your buir is alive. Sleep.” She projected soothing thoughts to the small creature and it subsided slowly. It curled up on itself, whimpering and Kiana sighed as she laid it down next to the slumbering mother.

 

Kiana stared in the pitch blackness for a moment and then sighed. She couldn’t leave them like this. Both would die if the mother could not hunt. A Mandalorian would likely just kill both, maybe take the skins to sell, maybe not. But Kiana was not Mandalorian anymore. She didn’t think so anyway. She shook her head and opened her kit. No one sane went into a cave with only one form of light. She had four different kinds in her small kit, but this would require quite a bit. She activated the flare she carried and laid it on the far side of the cave. It might attract other predators, but she could not leave a youngling, even a beast one, to die alone in the dark. Her hands flew as she checked the wound she had done to the mama beast’s leg and repaired the damage as well and as quickly as she could. Trugoy had taught her a lot in the last four years and while she had never studied this creature’s anatomy, some things were universal. A tendon was a tendon no matter what kind of creature used it.

 

She had finished her work and was backing away when the mama beast woke. It was immediately on its feet, growling at her in the harsh light of the flare. In the light, it was even more impressive, black fur and lots of teeth. It was obviously dazzled by the light, but could see her well enough to snarl. Then the beast looked confused as Kina did not react in fear or anger. Instead, Kiana bowed to it. “I apologize for disturbing your den, mother. Your young one is safe.”

 

There was no way to communicate between the two, but somehow Kiana knew when the beast looked away that she had understood correctly. The beast, as horrific as it looked, had been protecting her young. Almost any mother would react the same way. The beast stared at Kiana and then at her side where the young had curled up beside its mom. Confusion swept through the Force from the beast and Kiana nodded. “I mean you and yours no harm. It was a misunderstanding. We are not enemies. You are not my food and I am not yours.” The words were not as important as the tone, and the beast slowly, ever so slowly, relaxed. Kiana continued in that same soft tone. “I apologize for hurting you. I have done what I can to help. I need the thing at the back of your den. I will leave and trouble you no more once I have it.”

 

The beast stared at Kiana for along moment, obviously unsure. Then, with a huff, it grabbed the young by the scruff of the neck and carried it away from the light. Kiana waited until she was sure it was gone before moving to where she could see the tablet glinting in the light. She stood there, looking at it for a moment, before reaching down to touch it.

 

Without sense of transition, she was in a well lit area and something was charging her. She spun, her blade coming out to meet another. But this one was a blue bladed lightsaber! For a moment, the saber and the Force enhanced sword locked before she jumped out of reach to scrutinize her surroundings as she had been taught. She was standing in a circular room, light came from large windows all around, plenty of light to see the three forms in brown robes that stood well out of the way and the form in armor that stood where she had been, staring at her. Her eyes narrowed as she realized that under the robes of the being who had attacked her, the armor looked Mandalorian. A Mandalorian Jedi? No way…

 

Four to one odds were not good and the armored form was her match, she could feel it in the blows they had exchanged. One of the robed forms spoke. “You cannot win.”

 

"No, but..." Kiana shook her head slowly, her sword vanishing back into its sheathe. “Winning is not everything.”

 

"What?" A derisive snort came from the armored form. “Some Mandalorian you are.” The voice was familiar, but not quite. Ashe knew she should know it, but she couldn’t bring it to mind.

 

Kiana stared at the form, her gaze serene. “Do I know you?”

 

"No." The Mandalorian Jedi snarled. “I have nothing to do with dar’manda scum.”

 

At that, Kiana froze in place. Dar’manda, the state of not being Mandalorian. It was worse than being an outsider, it meant one who had either given up or lost his or her heritage. It was the single worst possible fate for any Mandalorian. The old Kiana would have responded with anger, with hate.

 

"You are in error." Kiana’s voice was soft, but unyielding. “I am not dar’manda, traitor.”

 

The voice of the woman, yes definitely a woman in that armor, was angry now. “Die, you scum!” And Kiana backpedaled as the form jumped to engage her again.

 

This was not right, something was not right. Kiana fought with everything she had as the blue saber came in from everywhere. Finally, she had an opening and she took it. Her blade licked out, severing the tendons of the right arm, but the Jedi just kept coming. Now the odd Jedi’s attacks were sloppier, if no less powerful. A kick sent Kiana reeling and the Jedi moved in for the kill, only to meet a solid strike from the pommel of Kiana’s sword against the side of the helmet. Kiana’s natural progression move, a sweeping strike at the neck, had no counter and the head of the Mandalorian female flew to land nearby as the body fell, its motor control gone. Kiana breathed heavily, her gaze on the three Jedi who hadn’t moved. Something drew her gaze to the visored helmet at her feet in time to see the front of it vanish. She screamed as she saw her own face staring at her with dead staring eyes.

 

She came back to herself still screaming. A gentle grip held her as she sobbed, her head pillowed on something. Trugoy’s voice came to her ears and something flowed into her soothing, calming, sedating.

 

“Well done, Bladeborn.” A deep purring sound was heard and she stared into the eyes of the mother beast. Trugoy’s voice was soft now. “You have made a friend, Kiana. Sleep now, daughter.”

 

She took those kind words and the warmth of the beast’s affection into slumber with her.

[kalenath]

She did not walk alone. Her faithful companion was at her side as always now. For some crazy reason the Tuk’ata mother had fixated on Kiana when Kiana had beaten her in that cave during her test. The pup had come with her, so often Kiana had two massive deadly shadows that paced her as she went and did what she did. Today, she only had one. She had never expected to return to this world, this planet called Averum. Not many people lived here. It had been a Republic colony, and then it had been taken over by the Mandalorians when the Republic one had failed. Trugoy had never actually said anything about her not doing this. So she figured ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell’ would work. She would be punished of course, but this was necessary. She had time until her next assignment.

 

Her last assignment had been an assassination, and it bothered her still. It didn’t make sense, what she had been ordered to do. Kill an enemy, sure. Kill his family? That stank to high heaven. But orders were orders, and Trugoy had confirmed them. He hadn’t been happy, but he had confirmed them. She had not followed her orders to the letter however. She made it quick and painless for them all, she had sliced their throats as they had slept. But the kids, those really bothered her. They had looked so innocent.

 

Innocents were killed in wartime, it happened. But this was not a war, not yet. The resurgent Sith Empire was biding it’s time, building its military to return and crush the Republic. Kiana was of two minds on that. On one hand, she lived to fight and enjoyed pushing herself. On the other, she knew firsthand the horrors of war, and the Sith made her flesh crawl.

 

A soft growl at her side had Kina focusing on her destination. The small cantina ahead had been a favored hangout of the Julioc clan when her family had still existed. Her father and brothers had been involved in brawls I the place more than once. Her eyes narrowed under her helmet as she saw three forms in beskargam in front of the place, just lounging. What kind of lazy warriors lounged? They did not ever rise as she approached. Of course, she was not heavily armed by Mandalorian standards. She carried a blaster and her sword. The sword raised some eyebrows anywhere she went, it was not a normal blade.

 

Her sword was unique to her. According to Trugoy, every Bladeborn made a blade that suited him, her or it. She had asked a time or two, what had happened to the original Order, and Trugoy had never answered. The look of pain on his face had always been enough to get her to stop asking. She loved that small brown being, now more than ever. He was the father she had lost and more. He could be the single most infuriating thing in the galaxy and then the most tender, caring thing she had ever encountered. She smiled and focused her mind into the edge of her sword as she had been taught. Kiana made a hand gesture. Her companion vanished into the soft shadows of the buildings nearby as she walked into sight of the loafers by the door to the cantina.

 

"Well..." One of the Mandos nodded to her. “Hello sweet thing. You got business here?” The leer in his voice was clearly audible.

 

"Yes." Kiana’s voice was soft as she strode past him. “I have business with your clan.” Her tone was respectful, but something in it had all three rising. She stopped just out of reach.

 

The Mando who had spoken looked her over. The robe that covered her armor was gray and her armor was not like anything he had likely seen. Bladeborn armor was fairly unique, but common enough looking to pass even close inspection even by people who knew armor. The Mando’s voice was suspicious now. “Who are you?”

 

"Me?" Kiana stepped into her reach and stopped. “No one of consequence.”

 

None of the Mandos seemed to know what to make of that. Finally the spokesman found his tongue. “What kind of business?”

 

The boredom in Kiana’s voice had all three stiffening. “None of yours. Move. Now.”

 

The Mando who had spoken had a smile in his voice when he spoke again. “Now honey, don’t be like that. I can give you a good time. Why be so…?”

 

He broke off as Kiana moved. Before any of them could blink, her meter and a half long blade was poised and ready. It had two edges and a blood groove along the middle about half the length of the blade. The hilt was long enough to hold comfortably with both hands, and the guard was circular. It was long and heavy, but Kiana had spent years developing the muscle mass to move it effortlessly. It was made to slice through armor, specifically to slice through beskargam. Just looking at it, it had obviously been well used and cared for.

 

Kiana’s voice was silky now. “I said ‘move’.”

 

The Mandos all laughed, they had no idea, none at all. “You got stones woman, coming here, threatening us. What you want?”

 

Kiana didn’t move and a low growl sounded nearby as her ally came out of the shadows. All three Mandalorians tensed as the Tuk’ata bared her teeth. “My business is my business, ordinii. Move.” None of the three liked being called a fool, that was clear to see, but between Kiana’s ready blade and the large beast that stood nearby, they were outmatched and knew it. “Is your clan leader still within?”

 

The Mando stared at her. “You have business with Geog?” He froze again as the point of Kiana’s sword caressed the body stocking over his throat. The Mando snarled at her and tried to grab the blade. Then he was down, his throat spurting from a horrible gash. The other two Mandos reacted, weapons coming out and up, but it was far too late. Kiana swept the legs out from under one and her ally had the other down and a high pitched scream as cut off in mid note. Her blade came down and pinned the legless Mando to the planking. The body quivered once and was still as Kiana retrieved her blade. Her ally looked at her and Kiana smiled as she stepped forward.

 

“Go ahead, vod.” Kiana said quietly. On one level, it was very strange calling this beast ‘sister’, especially when the Tuk’ata started munching her way through the armor to feast. On another it was perfectly normal. Kiana was as much a monster as the Tuk’ata was. What was worse, Kiana didn’t care anymore. She had nothing to live for now, besides this.

 

She cleaned her sword on a convenient cloak, sheathed it and pushed her way into the cantina. She waited for a moment while her eyes adjusted. Figures in Mandalorian armor were everywhere, and weapons were in evidence as well. Many of them were pointed at her as she took another step forward.

 

“Who are you?” A harsh voice croaked as she stopped just inside the entryway. She nodded slowly, most of the warriors of clan Julioc were present. An older Mando warrior stepped away from the bar, a blaster in hand. From the descriptions she had heard, this had to be Geog Julioc, the being who had ordered and commanded the death of her family. “Well?” He asked sourly when she didn’t answer.

 

"Hello." Kiana smiled, a death’s head grin, and her blade jumped into her hands. “My name is Kiana Luko, you killed my father, prepare to die.”

[kalenath]

It really wasn’t fair. The Julioc clan had no idea at all what had just walked into their midst. Kiana’s sword was half again as long as any of the vibroblades that the clan warriors carried and that was leaving out the fact that she had the Force. Add to that the fact that her sword had been designed to cut through beskargam and it added up to a slaughter. But she held back, she was not completely gone. Not anymore. To her eyes these Mandalorians were beyond pathetic. But she was not here to kill all of them, just one.

 

Goeg Julioc laughed at her. “Luko? You? Sheesh girl, you got gett’se I will give you that. Not a lot of sense, but gett’se.” His blaster was in hand and many other blasters were pointing at her now.

 

"You are dead, Goeg Julioc. But I would like to know one thing." Kiana did not blink as he drew his blaster. Her sword point did not waver. “Where did you get the gas?”

 

More than one of the warriors stared at her, their senses in the Force confused. They must have been new, maybe adoptees. Maybe they hadn’t been adults yet when her family had been slaughtered. It didn’t matter, her focus was on the clan leader. His eyes narrowed.

 

"What?" Goeg Julioc’s voice was cold now, but Kiana was unmoved. “What are you talking about?”

 

"The nerve gas you used on my clan." Kiana smiled, that same death’s head smile and more than one of the Mandalorians in the room shivered a bit. “You could not face the Loku clan in honorable combat. Every time you did, you got trounced. So you used gas, and then artillery to kill everyone who was left. You could not be bothered to face them honorably? Or was it just that you feared them so much?”

 

The leader of clan Julioc snarled at her. “You don’t know what you are talking about girl. I fear no one! We won!” He raised his blaster but paused as Kiana laughed.

 

Kiana’s voice was so cold it seemed as if the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. “Yes, you did. The only way you could. Using gas to kill unprepared warriors while they worked in the fields, using artillery on a bunker filled with adiik, oh yes. That is honorable. But honor always takes a backseat to survival, doesn’t it?” Her steely gaze swept the room. “Doesn’t it?” More than one of the Mandalorian warriors looked away from the rage that burned in her eyes, rage that she fought to keep under control. She shook her head and sighed softly. “Ah well, not my problem if you all are a bunch of hut’unn like your leader. I came here for you, and you alone, Geog Julioc. How many of your warriors must die to protect you, I wonder?”

 

When she called him a coward, Georg Julioc flushed and then his face went red. That was the single worst insult in Mando’a. But then he laughed. “You are not worth my time girl. Sinto, kill this ordinii.”

 

A Mando nearby aimed carefully, but when he fired, Kiana’s hand detached from her sword hilt and blocked the bolt. The blaster shot rebounded from her palm, stinging it severely even through her armored gauntlet, but it tracked back where she wanted it to go, hitting the Mando who had fired square in the eyeslit. He fell in a heap. All of the Mandos stared at her now and fear was writ large on their senses in the Force. Kiana put her hand back on her sword hilt and smiled that same cold smile.

 

"And you call me a fool?" Her voice was silky soft now and it pattered around the room on dark claws. “Did you really think I would come in here, and say what I did, hut’unn, unprepared? You are ordinii as well as hut’unn. Well, bring it. How many of you will die for this aruetiise?”

 

Her calling him a coward was having an effect. When she called him a traitor, she could see his eyes flash with red rage, but common sense prevailed. He knew he did not have a chance against her. His voice was almost as cold as hers now. Almost. “You won’t leave this room alive, girl.”

 

"So? And your point is?" Kiana laugh swept the room and more than one Mando stiffened as she chuckled. “I have no intention of leaving this room alive, scum. But neither will you.”

 

Geog Julioc snarled at her. “I have twenty six men here…!” He broke off as Kiana shook her head.

 

"Not anymore." Kiana’s voice was clinical now. “You have twenty two remaining. All armed with blasters which cannot hurt me, and in pathetic forms of beskargam.” Geog’s eyes went wide as he realized she had killed the guards outside and no one was going to attack her from behind. “Really... One shot and they go down? How many of them must die for your cowardice, Geog Julioc? You killed my clan, every last one of them. For that I will kill you. I am sworn to kill you, by blood and by steel. I loved my family, Goeg Julioc. I would have died for them, but that was not my fate. Does your clan feel the same way about you? Will they die for you?” More than one of the Mandalorians around her lowered their weapons and stepped back, removing themselves from the scene.

 

"Cowards!" Geog snarled. “I will deal with you traitors later! Shoot her!” He raised his blaster. “She can’t block all of our fire!”

 

Kiana smiled widely now. “I don’t have to.” Then she was in motion. He fired, but she wasn’t where she had been. She dodged to the side, and then with a long horizontal jump, was close enough. Her sword licked out like the tongue of a dune lizard, it’s razor sharp blade slicing almost without resistance though the armor that surrounded his wrist. The blaster fell along with his hand as she followed up. Julioc screamed, a scream that turned into a cough as she slammed the flat of her blade into the side of his head. He went down in a heap, coughing. Then he screamed again as her armor clad boot impacted between his legs with enough force to crack the beskargam. He curled up on himself, whimpering. Kiana’s eyes swept the room and none of the Mandos in it had weapons raised. None of them would meet her icy glare.

 

Kiana’s voice was soft, but commanding now. “Let me make something perfectly clear. If you want to kill each other, that is fine. Mandalorians endure. That is what you do. But when you do things like what this piece of trash did to my family, eventually it will come back to haunt you. Killing people with no chance of them fighting back was not battle. It was murder. Is there honor in that?” Without her expression changing, her blade came down like a gory thunderbolt, pinning Julioc to the floor through his abdomen. “I have learned a great deal about honor in the last ten years.” She twisted her sword and the man skewered by it screamed loudly. “Well?” She challenged them. “Are you Mando or aruetiise?”

 

"Are you?" One of the armored forms took a step forward. The female warrior shook her head. “He has no chance against you. Is that honorable?” The question could have been accusatory, or provocative. It wasn’t.

 

"Indeed." Kiana nodded politely to the speaker. “I swore by my buir’s blood that I would kill this man. I could have crept into your compound and killed all of you as you slept. Instead, I came here, now. Does than answer your question?”

 

The female Mando thought about that for a moment and then bowed her head. “Oya Manda.” Vengeance was a fact of life among Mandalorians. But to do it like this…? “You are correct, there is no honor in that one. We all knew it, but could do nothing. He was our clan leader.”

 

"I have done what I came to do." Kiana wrenched her blade from the now still body at her feet and sighed deeply. “What you do now is none of my concern. You wish to gun me down? Shoot me in the back as I walk out?”

 

"No." The female Mando shook her head. “No one will shoot at you, Kiana Luko. No one would dare. Oya Manda.”

 

"Oya Manda." Kiana bowed her head and then met the female Mando’s gaze calmly. “Kiana Luko is now dead. I am Kiana of the Bladeborn. Kiana Luko’s final words to you are this: ‘Without honor, there is nothing.’ Remember those words the next time some scum says that the end always justifies the means.” Her sword came down again and this time it severed the head from the body at her feet. “And know this: I am watching.” With that, her form seemed to fade out in front of the startled eyes of the Mandalorians. It was several minutes before any of them dared move.

 

***

 

Kiana was breathing hard as she walked from the cantina towards where her ship was hidden. Her ally had not yet returned and she was tired. Tired, sick, sore, and now, she was empty. The head of her enemy swung in a bag at her side, but… She was empty. Her vengeance was done, but…

 

Kiana paused as she passed a structure near the edge of the small village. Something… She heard something odd. Someone was crying. Someone young. She walked to the door and opened it. Inside it was a Mandalorian dwelling. Weapons and armor hung near the door. But what caught her eye was the young human in chains who sat near a wall. He was perhaps five standard years old and his hair was black. He was crying. Kiana was moved to speak.

 

“Why are you sad, child?” She asked gently.

 

"I... No..." The boy did not look up. “I… I am not…” He bowed his head and his tears stopped. He flinched as Kiana stepped inside the dwelling and closed the door. As she did she saw something that made her freeze. A table was behind the door and it was covered in blood. It had restraints set into it, straps set for a being much smaller than an adult. “Please…” the boy’s voice was scared now, and he would not meet her gaze. “No more please…”

 

Kiana shook her head and stood where she was. “Boy… Look at me.” There was no bite of command in her voice, just soft and gentle persuasion. “What is your name?”

 

"What?" The boy looked up slowly and his brown eyes went wide as he saw Kiana. ”Who…?” He started and then stopped. “You should not be here. My… My master will return, he will beat me again… He says he will beat the evil from my blood.”

 

"Oh child..." Kiana shook her head slowly. “Goeg was your master, wasn’t he?” The boy bowed his head and nodded silently. Kiana smiled as she stepped forward. “He won’t bother you again. Come, oh…” She paused as she saw recent wounds on the boy’s body. The clothing he was wearing was barely enough for modesty purposes. Kiana snarled. “Here, boy, a present for you.”

 

She tossed the bag she carried to him and he caught it. He opened it and recoiled, shocked out of his mind. His voice broke as he stared at the dead eyes of his former master. “That… I can’t… he…”

 

Kiana sighed as she knelt down beside the child. “Its okay, youngling. It’s okay. What is your name?” She asked gently as she started working to get the shackles off his wrists and ankles. It took her a few minutes, and the boy could not seem to tear his gaze from the head. “Come here…” She said quietly as she hoisted the child up into her arms in a gentle embrace. His arms flew around her neck, partially choking her for a moment, but then they eased. Tears were falling from her eyes and his as she carried him from the house. No one was on the street as she started off. “I need to know what to call you, I can’t just call you ‘boy’.”

 

"My..." The boy was obviously in shock, but he managed to croak out words. “My mother called me Sean. They… They killed her…They…”

 

"Okay." Kiana gave the boys short hair a ruffle as she carried him away from his horrid past and hopefully to a brighter future. Her ally came up beside her, sniffed the bundle in her arms and then paced her as always. Kiana’s voice was tender now. “Well, Sean. I can’t change what happened to you, but I can help you now. You do not have evil in your blood. You have the Force.”

 

Sean stared up at her, his eyes wide. “The what? You… Aren't you one of them…?” A small hand waved back towards the village they had left.

 

Kiana smiled a bit sadly. “Ah, boy, that is a long story.

Edited August 11, 2012 by kalenath

[kalenath]

<Many years later>

 

Kiana was very tired. It had been a hell of a ride but now, she knew it was almost time to get off this merry go Ronto. She looked at her wrist with its prominent brand and sighed softly in memory. Trugoy had been less than enthused with her going off by herself to kill Goeg Julioc and it had taken literally years for her to gain back his trust. Eventually however, she had proved herself to him and he had elevated her to a new rank. Masterblade was an odd title, she mused. Who cared how many people, lightsaber wielding or otherwise, she had defeated? With the title had come more responsibility, enough that she felt crushed much of the time. Bad enough only to be responsible for herself, but to be responsible for the entire Order?

 

She shook her head slowly in reflection. The Order had grown. When she had brought Sean back to Trugoy, at first the ancient brown being had been totally dead set against training another being. ‘One master, one apprentice’, he had stated on numerous occasions. But eventually, she had persevered. Sean himself had matured into a fine man, still haunted by what he had endured as a child, but not driven by it anymore. He was well on his way to Masterblade rank himself, but Kiana knew that it would take years more training and discipline to attain. She didn’t mind, he would always be her first recruit with a special place in her heart.

 

She shook her head again. So many changes, since Trugoy had first found her. Her training had never really stopped. She had assumed that eventually she would reach some kind of level where she would have learned everything about being a Bladeborn, but the more she learned, it always seemed that the less she knew. The Order had grown from the two of them, to almost twenty beings, many from broken backgrounds. And she loved them all. The Jedi and the Sith both frowned on love. The Jedi because it led to uncontrolled emotion, which they considered very bad. The Sith frowned on love because it led to mercy, which was totally anathema to their point of view. Mercy to a Sith was a horrible, horrible thing, something that upset the balance of hate and fear that they thrived on. But Kiana was neither Jedi nor Sith, she was Bladeborn.

 

She did not react as the Force flowed through her again. It didn’t hurt, per say, although she was sure it should have. She was no stranger to pain. Pain had been her life almost from the moment she was born. A soft female voice spoke from the darkness around her.

 

“Come on, ma’am. There is no need for this.” Kiana didn’t bother fighting the restraints that bound her to the table, they were far beyond her ability to break. “Please don’t make us hurt you.”

 

The mission had been simple. Get in, get some information, get out. But no one had expected not one but THREE Jedi to be on site. Kiana was good, no question, but she had been overwhelmed. The Jedi were formidable combatants, but their knowledge of the Force had been Kiana’s downfall. While she had fought defeated one of them, and fought another, the third had knocked her out with the Force. She hadn’t spoken since she had woken in a cell, minus her sword, her armor and anything that might be used as a weapon. They had tried to interrogate her, using the Force, and then using drugs, but she was Bladeborn. She was proof against that kind of thing for a time, and eventually, she would manage to free herself or die. It was odd though. Basically, the Jedi used the Force to try and read her emotions, to see if she was telling the truth. It was kind of defeated by the fact that she had not spoken.

 

Kiana tensed in her bonds as a door hissed and a new voice spoke from nearby. “Anything?”

 

Her interrogator, a female who wore Jedi robes sighed. “No, she has given up nothing at all. Anything on your end?”

 

"No." The new voice sounded male. He sounded tired. “Nothing. No records, no nothing. The only identifying mark on her is that odd brand on her arm. But no slaver band on file has anything like it. Republic Intelligence wants her. She is a null, no file in the Archives or any Republic database that I have been able to search.”

 

"No..." The woman hissed in displeasure. “Master… If we give her to them…”

 

The male replied in a sad tone. “I know.” Now he addressed Kiana. “Ma’am, I know you can hear me. We need to know where you sent the data you stole.” Kiana did not move a muscle and the male voice sighed. “Ma’am… please…Give us something, anything. We don’t to turn you over to Intelligence.”

 

The woman who had been interrogating Kiana spoke again, and her voice was disbelieving. “You cannot… You know what they will do…”

 

The Jedi master sighed again. “Padawn, control yourself. She stole information vital to the Republic, of course they are going to want to interrogate her themselves. I protested, all the way to the Council, but… The information she stole is sensitive enough that the Republic is sending a team of specialists.”

 

"I... No..." The female gasped. “Master, we cannot allow that. She is our prisoner, not theirs.”

 

The male voice was soft now. “Tell me true, SinLeia, Do you think we can get anything from her?”

 

The female voice was soft but adamant now. “No, but this is wrong! She fought well and honorably. She could have killed me, you know this.” Kiana did not regret not striking the Jedi down when she had the woman at her mercy. The woman had fought to the best of her ability, she had just been outmatched. “She does not deserve this.”

 

The male voice was very sad now. “Deserve has nothing to do with it. Come, we go now.”

 

Kiana froze as the lights in the room came up and she had her first glimpse of her interrogator. The blonde haired young human woman looked as if she was about to cry. She wore the same Jedi robes she had worn when she had confronted Kiana, but now a cast was visible on one arm and bruises shone all over her face. Kiana had not pulled any of her strikes until the Jedi had been unconscious. The girl met Kiana’s eyes and her eyes glistened.

 

“Please… Tell them what they want to know… Please… You are not evil, I know you are not evil. I can sense the good in you.” Kiana did not respond and the Jedi slumped. The Jedi turned and left the interrogation room without another word.

 

The other Jedi stood for a long moment, scrutinizing Kiana. She felt tendrils of the Force seeping into her mind, but as always, she managed to hold them off. He shook his furred head. The brown furred Bothan was very sad. “You should tell us. The information you stole has the entire Senate up in arms.” Kiana did not reply and the Bothan slumped. “I don’t know who you are, or what you are protecting, but thank you for not killing my Padawan. I know you could have.” Her turned as well, but paused at the door. “May the Force be with you, Ma’am. You will need it.”

 

Kiana focused on keeping her breathing steady as a medical droid entered the room followed by two figures in white and brown uniforms. Neither spoke to her. The droid came close, an appendage extended, a hypo hissed and Kiana was floating. The two beings were a male Mon Calamari and a female Zabrak. They unhurriedly pulled a pair of cases in and started unpacking them. Anticipation, Kiana knew, was just as much an interrogation tool as pain or drugs. This was hardly the first time she had been tortured.

 

The Zabrak spoke quietly. “Anything you want to tell us now, ma’am?” Kiana did not reply and the Zabrak nodded. “ Very well. Phase one.” Both had shining instruments in their hands now as they approached Kiana.

 

Her world dissolved into pain and fear. Even Bladeborn felt pain and fear. Anything mortal did. She was dimly aware of the medical droid working occasionally to keep her alive, but the pain crowded in and surrounded her. Once she was aware of water being poured into her mouth, in an obvious attempt to make her gag. She refused to let them direct her, and she could feel their consternation as she nearly drowned. Then they were hurting her again. For the most part, she completely ignored the pain as it swelled and ebbed. Time blurred.

 

Suddenly it all stopped. “Stop this!” Came a shout from close by. Kiana could barely raise her head as both torturers stepped back from her. The female Jedi who had interrogated her first stood in the door way, her green lightsaber ignited in hand. She was crying. “You will not break her. All you are doing is hurting her! She has thwarted you and now you are hurting her because you can. I didn’t understand what the Force was trying to tell me. She is not evil, you scum are!”

 

Kiana could only watch in shock as both of the torturers turned weapons on the Jedi. The bound Bladeborn stared as both fired, only to have their blaster bolts deflected by the girl’s green lightsaber. Then the Jedi was in motion and neither had time to scream as the girl’s bright light blade cut both down in two quick movements. Then the Jedi was at Kiana’s side, her face contorting. “I am sorry… I am sorry…” She mouthed as she undid the restraints and tried to staunch the flow of fluid from Kiana’s wounds.

 

Kiana felt her life fading now but she smiled sadly and spoke for the first time since she had been captured. “Not your fault, child. My… My blade… is it…?” She could barely make her voice heard.

 

The Jedi stared at her and then nodded slowly. The door hissed open again and the other Jedi stood there, a shocked look on his face and Kiana’s blade in his hand. It floated to her waiting hand. Kiana smiled as the young woman stepped back. But the Bladeborn had no strength for anything else.

 

“You.. Jedi are…worthy opponents. It was my honor…to face you…in battle. However…” She smiled thinly. ”You need to work on your acting, young lady.” The girl stared at Kiana who smiled. “Your blade never entered their bodies.”

 

Both ‘slain’ interrogators rose, staring at Kiana, who smiled weakly now. The Force tried to snatch her blade from her hands but her grip was strong. She couldn’t reverse it; the blade was too long for her to hold easily on the table as she was. But the edge was keen as it bit into her neck, actually it bit deep enough to slice most of the way through simply with its mass. A shocked scream came from the female Jedi, and the medical droid moved close, only to have Kiana use the last of her energy to slam her blade into its housing, knocking it to the floor sparking. Her life was flowing out through the gaping hole in her neck but her mind was clear as life faded.

 

I die as I have lived. Free…

 

She smiled as the Force reached out an embraced her for the last time. As hearing faded, she heard the medical droid trying to work, and a shocked whisper nearby from the female Jedi. “Who the hell was she?” Then she was free at last.

[kalenath]

<The present>

 

For several minutes after Istara had finished speaking, there was silence in the eating chamber. Mandalore finally spoke softly. “Thank you for sharing that tale with us, Istara Sharlina Andal. Death will come for all of us. But while we remember, the dead are never truly gone. Mando’ad draar digu.”

 

“ Mando’ad draar digu.” Came a murmured acknowledgement from around the table.

 

Istara nodded. “Bladeborn do not forget either.” “If I may, Mandalore, I have something for you and your clans.” Mandalore looked at her and she smiled, sadly this time. “I knew I would be coming here and I am an ambassador for sorts, so a gift would not be amiss, would it?”

 

Mandalore looked at her oddly. “Depends on what it is.”

 

Istara nodded, she understood these people fine. She keyed a comlink. “I sent for something from my ship.” A silence descended that was only broken when a door opened and a Mando from Trava’s clan came in bearing what was obviously a large wrapped sword. He laid it on the table in front of Istara, nodded to her and left without a word.” It took some time, and not a little effort, but we managed to recover her blade from the Jedi.”

 

Mandalore stared at Istara and then at the sword. “The blade of Kiana Luko? You honor me, Istara Sharlina Andal.”

 

Istara smiled a bit sadly. “The Jedi archivists apparently did not know or care about preserving steel blades, so it was in sorry shape when we recovered it.” She stripped off the wrapping. She drew it and held the blade up. It was immaculate. She sheathed it again. “One warrior to another, Mandalore, I offer this sword as a gift, with no obligation. I offer it to you and your clans as a symbol of honor and loyalty.” She extended the sheathed blade hilt first to the clan leader of the Mandalorian clans.

 

Mandalore rose, and with him every single Mandalorian in the room rose as well. He stepped forward and took the blade from her. He smiled as he held the sheath in both hands, examining the hilt. “I almost expected you to hand it to me point first.”

 

Istara snickered. “Do I look that stupid? Don’t answer that!” she hastily added as more than one Mando laughed. “We are not enemies this day. Perhaps someday. But not today.”

 

Mandalore smiled and nodded. “Not today.”

 

***

 

It was very quiet on the small ship that Trava and Istara had taken to visit the Mandalore on his battleship. For that, Istara was grateful. It had been a hell of a day. She had expected to be able to persuade the Mandalore not to kill Trava, who she truly liked, but beyond that… The fact that the Mandalorians not only remembered Kiana but almost revered her had been a bit shocking. They had been underway for a while, but she was still coming to grips with the feelings that the story always woke in her. Love, pity, hate, fear, anger, devotion, all of these and more were the hallmarks of Kiana, the first Masterblade of Trugoy’s Bladeborn. She didn’t move as Trava entered the bay and sat down nearby.

 

Trava did not have her helmet on, but her face was as impassive as a visor might have been. “We need to talk Istara.” The Mandalorian Elder’s sense in Ashla was muted, but worried.

 

"Yes." Istara nodded slowly, and met the Mandalorian’s eyes. “I expected this. You have questions. Ask.”

 

Trava shook her head slowly. “You were not lying, were you? To Mandalore? About us working for the… Si…the Si-whatever you called them.”

 

Istara smiled a bit. “Si-To-lon. Sitolon. It took me a while to get so I could say it without biting my tongue.” She shook her head and her hair fell in dark brown waves, she had let it get longer than she liked. “No, I wasn’t lying to him.” She laughed sourly. “I don’t know if I could have lied to him, to tell you the truth. There is something about the man… He is the kind of leader I would have dreamed to follow if I wasn’t Bladeborn.” Istara shook her head again. “I would have liked to spar against him, but it wouldn’t have been wise.”

 

Tarva snorted a dry laugh. “No… That wouldn’t have been a good idea.” She slumped and her façade cracked for a moment. “Istara… What can I do? If they have been manipulating us for so long… I…” She paused as Istara leaned forward and put her hand on the Elder’s armored shoulder.

 

Istara sighed and her voice was soft when she spoke again. “Trava, they are not enemies. We are not enemies. I am one of them. It was the only way to keep your clan from being in opposition with Mandalore. And it wasn’t a lie. They have used you and your clan over the centuries. Tell me you have not wondered how many of your people found ways off planet to seek their fates, but no one ever divulged the location.”

 

Trava blinked and then nodded slowly. “I have, on occasion. I just thought they felt loyalty to us.”

 

Istara nodded soberly. “They do. It was encouraged. I know for a fact that one of your people wound up on Kuria, where he helped train Nia , specifically because of the Sitolon’s influence.”

 

Trava nodded soberly. “Canaak… He was… a great man. A great leader. If he had wished, all of us would have followed him. If he had sounded the call, most of the clans in the galaxy would have followed. He was the only man I ever met before the current Mandalore I could say that about. But he didn’t want to gather the clans. We pressured him to do so, and he vanished.” She shook her head. “He died on Kuria, alone and forgotten. What a waste of potential.”

 

Istara shook her head. “I disagree. No one knew at the time what was on Kuria except us. We told the Emperor, and he ordered us to hold a site on the planet. To guard it with our lives.” She paused and her eyes went far away. “I thinkI met Canaak. I met a Mandalorian once on Kuria. I was young and stupid. I had just been inducted into the Bladeborn, and I was a mess. I wasn't there long. He… Yes…” She mused slowly. “He was the same kind of man. He exuded command and confidence. He had the same charisma that Mandalore does.”

 

Trava blinked and her voice was just a little husky when she spoke again. “Do you know how he died?”

 

Istara shook her head but she looked at her friend and her voice was soft when she spoke. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there for long. From records I have seen, I was sent away just before Will crashed on planet. I doubt that was a coincidence. Just as it was not a coincidence that most of us were gone when the planet was attacked and the colony wiped out.”

 

Trava sighed. “Probably not.” Istara looked at the Mandalorian, something in her sense in Ashla…

 

“Who was Canaak to you, Trava?” Istara asked quietly.

 

The woman who was one of the Elders of Clan Ordo looked away. For long moment, Istara was unsure of the Mandalorian would reply at all. When Trava did speak, it was quiet, almost inaudible. “My father.”

 

Istara nodded, her face sad. “I understand. My own father died just after I was born. My mother and I…well…” She shrugged. “We had some rough times.” She shook herself. “If you want answers, I can get you some.”Trava looked at her and Istara smiled thinly. “I know someone who was there.”

 

"Uh..." Trava looked at the Bladeborn oddly. “I thought you said everyone who was there was killed.”

 

"Well." Istara sighed. “Yes and no. Everyone is dead, but I can get you answers if you wish.”

 

"Huh?" Trava blinked and then put a sour look on her face. “Is this a Force thing?”

 

"Sort of." Istara shrugged, her face impassive. “Sort of. But you want to meet the Sitolon too, don’t you?”

 

Trava smiled now a bit more openly. “Yeah, I guess. If they are employing me, I guess I better meet them. If only to save having to lie about it.”

 

"Right." Istara nodded and a small smile played across her face. “When we get back to the Dia's Gift, we can take mine. Gute will have rendezvous info somewhere I am sure. He won’t tell me half of the nav information anyway and I am glad of it. What I don’t know I can’t divulge.”

 

"You know..." Trava smiled a bit sourly now. Istara’s pilot took some getting used to. “You should learn to fly yourself.”

 

"Eh... No..." Istara cringed dramatically. “Every time I try… I either use the autopilot or I crash. Gute would flay me if I did that to his ship.”

 

"That is... weird, but okay." Trava shook her head slowly. “Can’t you at least get him to change the name? Unobtanium Monkey is just…wrong…”

 

Istara sighed. “What can I say? He is a pilot. They are crazy. one and all.”

Edited August 11, 2012 by kalenath

[kalenath]

The Unobtanium Monkey flew through hyperspace, totally unaware of the raging argument that sounded within it. Istara was holding onto her temper, but barely.

 

The Bladeborn finally spoke softly. “Gute… Listen… I don’t want to fly. You know this. I just want to learn how to.”

 

"Sure." The Iridonian who served as her pilot snarled at her. “Go ahead, kill me. It would be quicker than you crashing this thing into an asteroid or a planet, or another ship…”

 

Gerit Utral had been an Imperial Captain, commander of his own ship. Unfortunately his ship had been commandeered by a rogue Sith to attack Republic interests. When he had returned, the Sith having perished in the attack, his remaining crew had been slaughtered by a team of Sith sent to recapture the renegade. He had fled with the wreck of his ship, killing the team of Dark Force users in the process. And then he had spent over six months on the hulk of his once proud ship, slowly going mad as it drifted. The Sitolon had found and rescued him, but he would never be the same as he had been.

 

"Ah..." Istara sighed and did something totally out of character. She sat down and put her head in her hands. “Gute… I am sorry… I just… I don’t know what is wrong with me…” She shook her head and was obviously trying not to cry. “It was always my dream, to fly. And I… I can’t…”

 

"What?" Gute’s eyes went wide. He had never seen the totally self assured Bladeborn act like this. His voice was cautious. “Istara… What…?”

 

"As far back as I can remember..." Istara would not meet his gaze. “I never had to fly, before. I always had someone who could fly me. The first time I ever had to do it myself was when I escaped from that prison asteroid in the Korriban system. I had no idea what I was doing. I expected to die, but I didn’t. I crashed that ship, Gute. I was well on my way to crashing it before it was shot down.” Her eyes were burning now. “I don’t know what is wrong with me, something must be.”

 

"I don't understand." Gute shook his head slowly. “Istara… Sith are taught how to fly at the academies. Are you saying that the Bladeborn did not teach you?”

 

"Not that I can remember." Istara shrugged, her face still hidden in her hands. “I... I don’t remember ever having classes or training in flying. How to sneak in, yes. How to override controls, yes. Fly, no.” She shook her head. “That makes no sense…” She mused. “I know they have classes on that, I have helped teach a few since I became grandmaster. But they never taught me…”

 

"Istara." Gute shook his head and sat back down in his pilot’s chair that he had jumped out of when Istara had first asked him to teach her. “There had to be a reason.” He said quietly.

 

"Yeah." Istara sighed. “There is nothing in any of the records I have found. Maybe Jina has found something.” She had no secrets from Gute. The Iridionian was totally loyal to the Sitolon. No interrogation would break the pilot before killing him. “It is weird… I can fly speeders, swoops and airspeeders. Not well, mind you, but using Ashla, I can. But starships…” She shrugged.

 

"Well..." Gute shook his head slowly and looked at his controls before turning back to Istara. “The controls are essentially the same, Istara. But the medium is different. In the air, you have resistance, gravity, and a fixed point of reference. In space, there is nothing. Could it be that simple? You overcorrect on the controls? It takes fine hand control at times not to.”

 

Istara’s voice was soft, worried. “Maybe. But that wasn’t all of it. I know I can multitask, I have done it, but…” She broke off as Gute scoffed.

 

The pilot’s voice was kind now. “Istara, there is multi-tasking and then there is multi-tasking. Any starship, no matter how small, is a very complex piece of equipment. Thrusters, gravity, life support, even leaving out weapons and shields, there is a lot to focus on. And any mistake can kill you.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why you would not be able to fly, and now is not the time to experiment.”

 

"I won't." Istara nodded slowly. “I know, I just wanted to ask. Gute, when we land, can you…?” She broke off, unsure how to say it.

 

Gute looked at her, his face impassive. “Are you asking me what I think you are asking me, Istara?”

 

"Yes." Istara nodded slowly. “I want to learn how to fly, or find out why I can’t. This is a weakness, Gute. I am not Sith to purge weakness the way they do, but if I cannot at least find a way around this, I may put people in danger. I don’t want to do that.”

 

"I..." Gute shook his head again, slowly, and his face was sorrowful. “Istara… I am not a good teacher. You want Will, or someone else. From all accounts, Will Kalenath would be the best teacher for you. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about you slicing his head off if you get mad.” He grinned to show it was a joke. Then he sobered. “There is a lot to learn, Istara. Are you sure…?” He asked softly. She nodded and he shook his head in a resigned fashion. He reached up and pulled a datapad from a cabinet. “Flight manual, you should read it. Its basic, but it covers most of the functions in at least some detail.”

 

"Okay..." Istara took the pad and keyed it on. She stared at it. “Two thousand pages…?” She asked incredulously as she stared from the datapad to the Iridonian pilot who smirked.

 

"Basic only." Gute snickered evilly. “Be glad this is a small ship, Istara. Read it, all of it. If you have questions, I will answer what I can. We will also talk to the Sitolon when we arrive. There may be something in your head or, who knows? Maybe something physical. Maybe both. Just, please… For the love of Ashla, don’t experiment with anything you read in there. Please? You can kill us all if you mess something up in flight.”

 

"Yeah." Istara shook her head and started reading. “Cole said the same thing. You are the experts. Speaking of Cole… How is he doing?” Istara had put her foot down when the former smuggler turned agent for the Bladeborn had balked at coming with her. He was going to get married if she had to stand over him with a drawn blade.

 

"Not well." Gute shrugged as he turned back to his controls. “I have been keeping him busy. He blames himself for what happened to Juli. The Sitolon managed to bring her back, but…” He bowed his head. “I don’t know and neither do they. We will just have to see.” The little girl had suffered traumatic brain damage , but had bounced back swiftly as far as she could. She was obviously not happy with her current condition and worked herself to exhaustion at times trying to heal and recuperate.

 

Istara stared at the datapad, but was not seeing it. No, she was seeing a lively fourteen year old’s happy face. “What happened was my responsibility, I will see it made right if I can.”

 

Gute didn’t turn, but his voice was soft. “It wasn’t you Istara. You were set up, just as Trugoy’s Bladeborn were. That scum of a tech set Brianna Makarian up to kill you and divide the Stormhawk crew.”

 

"Wait..." Istara blinked and then froze. “Wait a sec… She was hurt when the Republic attacked the Bladehome…” Her voice trailed off. “Son of a barve…” She breathed. “She was hurt already… Damn it!” She clenched fist and probably would have pounded it on a bulkhead except she realized at the last minute that the bulkhead had controls on it and stopped. “She was hurt before she was tortured… Damn it! Why did I take her there…?” Istara was crying now.

 

"Istara...They healed her injuries aboard the Stormhawk." Gute’s soft voice penetrated her shame. “It wasn’t your fault Istara. Please don’t beat on my controls.” Istara slumped and let her anger pass. It wouldn’t help. She focused on reading.

[kalenath]

Istara had done a lot of things in her life. She had fought Jedi, Sith and monsters out of a twisted nightmare. But what she was doing now was taking all of her control to just sit and not lash out as A large form out of a nightmare moved around her, muttering. A gentle voice spoke to her. “Istara?”

 

Istara sighed as she sat. She had been instructed not to move, so she wouldn’t. The objects that had been placed on her head felt wrong though. She knew they were scanners, not brainwashing devices, but so many memories were there of what had happened to her as a child. She glanced at the queen of the hive and sighed. “I am okay, mostly, Majistrona.”

 

"No you are not." Nuoloinhtihjusghymajistrona, or Majistrona to her close friends and acquaintances, scoffed lightly. “Don’t try to lie to me, sister.” The huge insect queen lowered herself to look Istara in the eyes, her six meeting Istara’s two. The ruler of the Sitolon swarm shook her head. “You are uncomfortable. This reminds you of what that scum Amirg did to you.”

 

"Yes." Istara sighed and relaxed as bests he could. She was not restrained in the chair she was sitting it, but the devices that were attached to her skull were cold and brought back bad memories. She focused, with effort, on something else. The Bladeborn grimaced a bit and then sighed again. “Yes it does. At least you and Hpilon explained what you are doing and why. Amirg never did.”

 

The queen ruler of the Sitolon made a soft snarling sound. “Stupid Sith scum. Brainwashing a child…” She growled and then was apologetic. “Sorry Istara, but the mere concept of someone mentally manipulating others is hard for us to bear. Let alone making a child hate and want to kill her mother.” The anger that Majistrona felt was almost palpable. Of course, Istara also was angry. The SIth Lord Amirg had taken the young Istara, broken her, made her hate her mother and destroyed any chance she might ever have of a normal life, even a normal Sith life.

 

Istara would have nodded, but a sharp glance from the healer bug was enough to have her freeze in place. Hpilon was a very good healer, but he was opinionated, harsh and brutal in his honesty at times. But she knew he did truly care for his patients, and truth be told, she didn’t mind much. She knew another healer who acted the exact same way. Being linked to the hive mind of the Sitolon had taken quite a bit of getting used to, but now she was and she was happy with it.

 

“It is past Majistrona.” Istara said quietly. “Memories can hurt, but we need to…” She broke off as the healer made a sound she could not identify. She didn’t move. Truth be told, she was a bit afraid to. Hpilon in a rage was just as scary as Ona in one. The female Bothan senior healer of the Istara’s sect if the Bladeborn could make Sith Lords run away she got angry and the big blue bug was cut from the same cloth. “Hpilon?”

 

"I..." The large, dark blue insect was staring at his scanners, and his sense in Ashla was shocked. “My queen…” He spoke softly. “Istara… I failed you…” He turned and Istara’s eyes went wide as he knelt in front of her. “My life is…” He broke off as Istara exclaimed. Bladeborn of any kind only said ‘My life is yours’ when they were about to suicide!

 

“Stop!” Istara spoke sharper than intended, but she managed to get him to stop before the blade that materialized in his hand could cut into his body. “Hpilon! Put it away.” She spoke calmer now, but still did not dare move, the scanners and other things still pressed close. Majistrona hissed in apparent shock as well, and then the queen made a pained noise as well.

 

"I..." Hpilon wilted a bit, but the blade vanished back wherever it had come from. The arrogant, self opinionated, always angry healer’s voice was soft and pained now. “I should have seen this. I should have known. My arrogance has caused you pain, Bladeborn. My prejudice has caused you to suffer. I owe you.” He met her eyes calmly, ready to accept whatever she decreed.

 

"Hplion?" Istara blinked and then closed her eyes for a moment before speaking. “Can I move? You were quite verbose in telling me about ‘possible cerebral hemorrhages’ going as deep as you had to.”

 

Hpilon nodded slowly. “Yes.” The gear around her retracted. Majistrona looked from one to the other and then SHE knelt as well. As if in supplication. Istara froze. Why would the queen…?

 

"What the...?" Istara blinked and then her eyes went hard. “Who is going to explain?” Neither the queen nor Hpilon moved but Istara could feel something pass between the two of them. “Hpilon?” She asked quietly. “Majistrona? What is going on?”

 

"Istara." Majistrona said slowly. Hplion bowed deeper, almost putting his head to the floor of the room and Majistrona sighed. “You know that even when connected, we are not all one mind, Istara. We are individuals who can join into something greater than ourselves.”

 

"Yes." Istara blinked as she sat up, rubbing her head. Nothing hurt, per say, but it felt very odd. “Yes, it is… wonderful.” She knew she had a sappy smile on her face, but she could not have cared less. “I have no words Majistrona. I have not felt so welcome, so comforted, since I was a small child in my mother’s arms.”

 

"I knew..." Majistrona’s voice was sad and sick now. “I knew you had suffered, Istara. I knew you had been hurt, but I had no idea… Oh child I am sorry…” There were tears in the elderly bug’s voice now.

 

Istara sighed, she was missing something. “For what? You have done nothing but help me. You have aided me in understanding my other half, in accepting her.” The being known as Sharlina inhabited Istara’s mind, a cohabitant, if a very violent one. Majistrona did not answer and Istara pressed out with her mind as she had been taught by the bugs, seeking answers. The grief, rage and pain that she felt nearly overwhelmed her. “What…?” She gasped.

 

"I..." Majistrona knelt down beside Istara’s chair and laid a gentle claw on the woman’s arm. “Istara… I… I don’t know what to say. We didn’t know. I swear to you we didn’t know.”

 

The desperation in the queen’s words had Istara blinking in confusion. “Didn’t know what? Majistrona? What is going on? Am I sick? Hpilon? Am I dying? What is going on?” Her voice went flat when neither answered her. “Come on people. Someone talk to me? Please?” For an instant, a scared little girl shone through the woman’s eyes.

 

Majistrona bowed her head and turned to the healer. Hpilon nodded and keyed a control. A screen came to life, showing things that Istara could not identify. Hpilon’s voice was soft and careful when he spoke. “Istara, this is a scan we took of you when you first arrived here. When Jina Darkstorm brought you aboard. This was supposed to be the first time any of us had seen you.”

 

"What?" Istara froze in place. “What do you mean, ’supposed to be’?” She asked carefully.

 

"Istara." Hpilon’s voice held horror now. “What Amrig did to you was easy to see, easy to find. Not so easy to repair, but easy to diagnose. This…” He pointed at a section of the scan and it zoomed in, showing more squiggles that Istara could not identify. “This was done at around the same time. It is well hidden, and I don’t know if we can repair it. This is why you cannot fly, there is a subconscious injunction against piloting starcraft. I think… I am not sure. This is way beyond my abilities.”

 

"Yes." Majistrona nodded. “It must be. And if that was put in, healer... Is there more?”

 

"I think..." Hplion nodded slowly. “Yes.” The screen zoomed out again and several patches of the scan were highlighted now. “Now that I know what to look for, I am sorry Istara… I never thought about it… No one would have dared! You are one of the Seven, no one would have dared!” The sheer outrage in his voice was almost tangible now.

 

Istara felt her guts turn to ice. “You mean… Someone else was brainwashing me, while Amirg was?”

 

"Oh Istara..." Majistrona’s voice was soft now as she caressed Istara’s arm. “Yes. And there is only one race that could have done it.” Istara stared at her and Majistrona slumped. “Ours.”

 

Istara blinked and her voice was terrified now. “What?” She asked loudly. “What do you mean?”

 

Majistrona shook herself and met Istara’s scared eyes. “I mean, someone among our people mentally manipulated you. For what and why we have no idea.” As scared as Istara was, the fear that Majistrona was feeling brought Istara up short.

 

"Okay." Istara nodded slowly. “Then we had better find out who did it, what they did and why. Quickly.” She sat back into the chair and nodded to the healer. “Do more scans. Find out what they did to me.”

 

"Yes." Majistrona nodded slowly. “We will, Istara. And when we do, whoever did it will pay.” No scream could have been more final that Majistrona’s quiet, deadly calm words. Death rang in her tone and Istara slumped back as Hpilon came close again. The scanners swung back over her and she relaxed as best she could.

[kalenath]

It had been a hell of a day. Istara hadn’t thought she would be able to sleep, but as soon as her head touched her pillow, she had been…here. Wherever here was. It had to be a dream. Jedi and Sith did not usually dream, Bladeborn did occasionally. But almost every time Istara had dreamed before, it had been random images pulled from her subconscious. Sometimes the dreams had been comforting, sometimes they had been terrifying. But then there had been the other time. She had dreamed of a warm place and in that dream, her mother had appeared and they had talked. This dream was different.

 

She was walking along a crooked path. Stone walls lined the path on either side and it was cold. She shivered a bit, calling on Ashla to keep her warm and it did. She glanced at herself and was unsurprised to find herself wearing Bladeborn robes, similar to Sith ones, but in gray, not black. Actually, she was surprised. In most of her dreams she was not wearing anything at all. Some of those dreams had not been unpleasant either, but… She paused. Something was not right here. Something was wrong.

 

Was this a dream? Or a vision? She wasn’t sure. She and Idjit had talked on occasion about the differences between the two types of non-conscious experiences. She stiffened as another form appeared nearby but relaxed as she saw her own face on the being. The woman who looked like her was also wearing Bladeborn robes, and it was no surprise. It had taken a lot of getting used to, but this being was part of her.

 

"Oh." Istara’s voice was soft. “Hello, Sharlina.”

 

"Hello." Sharlina’s voice was just as soft. “You need to be strong, Istara. This is going to push you harder than anything else you have faced.”

 

Istara blinked and shook her head. “Sharlina… Do you know what is happening to me, to us? Or why?”

 

The female who was the merciless complement to Istara’s kindness shook her head. “No. I have been trying to remember myself, and I can’t. All I can remember is Amirg… And Con…” Her voice was flat now.

 

Istara’s felt as if she had been punched in the gut. “Con… I haven’t thought about that scumsucker in thirty years. I don’t remember it clearly… Did he…ever…” She broke off, unsure how to ask what she wanted to.

 

Sharlina shook her head again. “No, he never followed through with his threats. Amirg never let him. That Sith Lord was scum and evil, but there was no way he would let his senior apprentice violate one of his test subjects. It would have contaminated his experiment.” The control that Sharlina was under shone in her eyes as red fire gleamed. She wanted to kill something. Istara felt the same way. “He punished Con a few times that I remember for going too far. But Con never did violate us. Others yes, us, no.”

 

"Well..." Istara slumped. “Pity he never pushed Amirg into killing him. But Amirg was all about efficiency. I…” She looked her other half in the eye and spoke in a low tone. “I am scared, Sharlina.”

 

Sharlina nodded slowly and stepped close. Her arms closed around her sister self and Istara returned the embrace. “So am I, Istara. If whoever did this can cover their tracks so thoroughly that the Sitolon have difficulty finding them… Who knows what else they did to us?”

 

Istara bowed her head. “We are a danger to everyone now. If we can’t figure out why and how we were manipulated… You know what we have to do.” Sharlina bowed her head in agreement.

 

“Oh Issy…” A soft and sad voice spoke from nearby and both women froze as a blue transparent form appeared nearby. Kaosis Andal’s face was sad but her voice was tart and strong. “Killing yourself is not the answer.”

 

Istara froze and then her face lit up. “Mom!” She darted forward, only to be held back by Sharlina’s iron grip. “Let go! She…”

 

Sharlina shook her head. “You could hurt her, Istara. Think.” She shook her sister self a bit sharply.

 

Istara felt her eyes burning, but paused and then her face went slack as she took in the sight of her mother as a ghost. The last time she had seen her mother’s spirit, the ghost had seemed physical, this time, Kaosis was transparent. Istara blanched, she knew how vulnerable Force ghosts could be. “Mom… No… You shouldn’t be here. Just being here, you are in danger…”

 

“No she is not.” Another form appeared nearby and Istara went stiff as Majistrona, queen of the Sitolon bowed to Kaosis. “Well met, Kaosis Andal.”

 

Kaosis nodded to the bug, but her focus was on the pair of woman who were both halves of her eldest daughter. “I cannot stay long, Issy. My brave fighter, I love you so much. I felt your pain and fear and I had to come.”

 

"Mom..." Istara felt her lip start to quiver and moisture was on her face. “Someone else brainwashed me, mom. I am a danger to everyone now. I don’t know what to do… Help me, mom… Please…” She felt Sharlina’s equal worry and fear.

 

Kaosis Andal sighed and her face was concerned. “This is going to be hard for you Istara, and you as well, Sharlina.” She nodded to the other half of her daughter. “But you are not alone. You will never be alone again. You can do this, my daughter. Your friends will help you.”

 

"No..." Istara was shaking from grief, rage and sorrow now. “Mom… I… I can’t… I could hurt any of them. I can’t take that chance.”

 

Kaosis smiled sadly now. “Issy, trust me. It will be okay.” Her form started to fade. “I have to go back. I love you Issy.”

 

Istara yanked herself from her sister self’s grasp and ran to where her mom had been. “Mom… No… Don’t… Don’t go…” There was no answer. “Mom!” She wailed as she collapsed to her knees. Warm arms encircled her now, more than one set. She was rocked in a number of embraces as she cried out her pain, grief and fear.

 

After a time that could have been moments or hours, she heard Raven Markar’s voice from nearby. The youngest of the True Bladeborn sounded concerned. “What can we do?” She asked quietly as Istara rocked back and forth.

 

Majistrona’s voice was soft but held command now. “Istara… Istara, look at me…”

 

Istara didn’t want to. She wanted to curl up in a ball and die. But discipline had been ingrained in her from her earliest memories. She shook her head and looked up into the multiple eyes of the Sitolon queen. Majistrona nodded. “It is all right Istara. We are with you; we will not let anything happen to you. Rest now.”

 

Istara’s voice was small and childlike now. “I am a danger…”

 

Another voice answered her. “Maybe.” Istara looked up to meet the gaze of a nine year old girl whose eyes were far older than they should have been. Natasha Anastasia Regina, or Mira as she preferred to be called these days, gave Istara a squeeze. “But we don’t care. You helped us all. Let us help you.”

 

Istara blinked and looked at Sharlina who shrugged and smiled sadly. Her other half was part of the group embrace that held her now. Mira, Raven, Jina, Sara, Maria, Will, Idjit, Majistrona, Ecien, Nana, all of these held her and more were surrounding her as she looked. All of the radiated concern for her and love. Istara took a deep breath and then let herself fall into the warm embraces as she cried harder. All of her rage, pain, grief and fear poured out of her in vast salt tasting waves.

[kalenath]

Istara was heartily sick of this. People just would NOT leave her alone. If Mira wasn’t hanging around, then one of the other kids was somewhere nearby. Will had been by, hugged her quickly and left. The man was sneakiness made manifest, so she wasn’t really surprised. What was surprising was Holianahyatoujikaimnana’s actions. Nana was being, well, a nanny.

 

“You need to eat, Istara.” The large bronze skinned bug’s voice was sour, but Istara could feel the concern that her minder was feeling. Nana was more than just a minder now, though. She was a friend. “Come on, enough moping around. You need to eat, rest and then exercise. Eventually you will need to get back to your kin. And we don’t want you flabby now do we?”

 

Istara was tired, but that was because of the emotional upsets. She hadn’t been moping. She hadn’t. “I wasn’t moping…” She protested halfheartedly. “I was waiting for a response from Hpilon.”

 

"Right." The large bronze skinned bug shook her small head and her tone was doubtful when she spoke from where she was preparing a meal. “Sure you were.” She brought tray filled with plates of savory looking and smelling food to the table and set it down. She glanced at Istara expectantly.

 

Istara shook her head. “I am not hungry, Nana.” She froze as the large bug let out a growl more suited to a Rancor. “Nana… I…”

 

Nana’s voice was soft but commanding when she spoke. “Istara. You must eat. Don’t make me spoon feed you.” Her voice held warning that she would indeed spoon feed the Masterblade if that was what it took. Istara shuddered. Nana was actually one of the few beings in the galaxy who might actually be capable of subduing Istara easily hand to hand. Well, hand to claw and claw, since Sitolon had four claws capable of holding blades and could maneuver each independently. Add to that the fact that Nana had literally centuries of experience fighting with blades as opposed to Istara’s less than half a century, and well… The human woman took the path of least pain.

 

"Of all the pushy bugs..." Istara sighed as she reached for the tray. “Nana… I am fine, just… a bit overwhelmed.” She took the utensils and started to eat. She expected it to take a while, but in short order the huge meal that Nana had cooked for her was gone and she was polishing off the crumbs.

 

"No." Nana shook her head. “No you are not fine, Istara.” The bug’s voice was kind. “You have no idea at all what was done to you. Neither do we. We are working on finding out, but until then…”

 

"I know." Istara nodded slowly. “Until you do, I am a possible threat. I likely should not even be here in the civilian section. Too many potential hostages.” It hurt, to say such things. Istara would never take hostages. That was a coward’s tactic. But since she had no idea who or what had worked her brain over while Amirg had been programming her to kill her mother, she had no idea what she might do under someone else’s control. Her thoughts broke off as Nana sighed.

 

"You know better." The bronze skinned bug was quiet, but adamant. “No, Istara. You are not a prisoner. You are a guest, a patient, a friend and a sister. We are not going to treat you like a prisoner.”

 

Istara slumped. “Maybe you should…” Her voice broke off as one of Nana’s claws came around and slapped her lightly, for a Sitolon, on her arm.

 

Nana’s voice held command now. “Enough with the self pity, Istara. We have a job for you. One you are suited to. We trust you, even if you do not trust yourself. Do you trust us?” Nana asked quietly.

 

Istara blinked and then nodded slowly. “Yes. Yes I do. What do you want me to do?”

 

"Well..." Nana’s voice was sour now. “We have a guest who was hurt very badly when his team attempted to space jump onto our ship.”

 

Istara whistled in awe. Spacejumping was a crazy idea. Basically, jump from a starship and aim yourself at another in the distance, hoping that it did not change course before you arrived. Because there was literally no way at all to change course in flight for a space suited form. You also hoped that it did not change velocity, that you did not encounter a micrometeorite, laser bolt or any number of other hazards that might happen in deep space. It was an insane tactic, but sometimes an effective one. The team of Republic Special Forces who had attacked the Bladeborn on their ship the Bladehome had spacejumped onto it. They had lost two of their number doing so. The she blinked. No Imperial team would dare try such a crazy tactic, if the jump did not kill them, their superiors certainly would for trying such a stupid thing.

 

Istara’s voice was flat when she spoke. “Do I want to know who this ‘guest’ is?”

 

"You need to." Nana sighed deeply. “According to Republic records, he is Lieutenant Derik Svina. Of the Republic Special Forces.”

 

"Nana?" Istara stared at her minder, her mouth ajar. “You are kidding… tell me you are kidding. You want me to babysit a member of the Republic Special Forces?”

 

Nana shook her head. “No, we want you to make sure he does not see anything he shouldn’t while he is healing. He broke both of his legs when he landed, Istara. He has compound fractures of both legs. He had a skull fracture as well, we treated that and the concussion but we wanted that healed before we started working on rebuilding his legs..”

 

Istara winced in sympathy. She had suffered a compound fracture of one leg once. It had taken weeks to heal enough so that she could walk again. “So what do you want me to do?”

 

Nana had a smile in her voice when she replied. “Be yourself.”

 

"What?" Istara shook her head, confused. “You want me to cut him into five or six pieces? Nana…”

 

"No." The large insect sighed and when she spoke her voice was long suffering. “Istara, no we don’t we want you to kill him. We want you to show him that we are not enemies.”

 

Istara stared at the bug for along moment before replying. “We aren’t?” She asked disbelieving. “He attacked you.”

 

"No he didn't." Nana sighed and sat herself down on the deck. She was still tall enough that her head was level with Istara’s. “He tried to. And they were not equipped as an assault team. Two of his team died when they hit the hull. All of the rest were captured in minutes. When we examined them, we found traces of the nanites in all of them.” Istara froze in place.

 

"Yuck." Istara shook her head slowly. “So… They were coerced into attacking us. That does not change the fact that they did.”

 

"Istara, think." Nana sighed. “Yes it does, Istara. They are as much victims as your Bladeborn were. They had no choice at all. This lieutenant seems to have been ‘adjusted’ more than the others. We undid it, but… He is a bit of a handful.”

 

"Then... What?" Istara shook her head, still disbelieving. “Nana… I am no nurse. And if anyone even is thinking of matchmaking me…”

 

"Istara." Nana scoffed. “None of us are that dumb. We have met Idjit, remember? No, we need to do something about him, and you need something to do while you wait for Hpilon and his people to finish figuring out what happened to you. Everyone is happy.”

 

Istara raised an eyebrow. “Everyone?”

 

Nana sighed dramatically. It was always very odd hearing such a human sound from a six foot tall bug. “If you can’t do it, then you can’t. But please, Istara. At least give it a try. For me?”

 

"Nana..." Istara shook her head slowly. Arguing with Nana was like arguing with a rock. You could, but it generally only got your throat sore. “Gah…” She slumped. “Okay, okay, Nana. Where is he?”

 

"Good." Nana nodded and had a smile in her voice when she spoke again. “You will need to change.”

 

"Change?" Istara stared at the robes she wore and then at her minder and her face was a study. “What…? No. Not going to happen.”

 

"Istara." Nana shook her head. “You can’t show up in gray or black and expect him not to fight, Istara. We have nurses attire in your size.”

 

"No." Istara jumped to her feet. “No, Nana. I am not going to play dress up for some sick soldier. I am not!”

 

"Come on." Nana’s voice was stern now. “Istara… you know why and what we have to do. So do as you are told young lady. We do know what we are doing.”

 

"Nana." Istara snarled. “It is not going to happen!” But she had this sinking feeling in her gut that yes, it was about to…

[kalenath]

Istara was grumbling under her breath as she walked through the corridors of the Sitolon homeship’s secure medical ward. “Of all the stupid ideas…” She smoothed the hem of the white medical tunic with her hands as she walked. It felt…wrong to be wearing something other than robes or armor. It fit well enough, but it just felt wrong to be wearing white instead of gray or black.

 

She didn’t mind wearing disguises. It was part and parcel of being a Bladeborn on occasion. Trugoy had always taught his people that stealth was not in and of itself dishonorable. ‘There is a difference…’ he had always said, ‘…between honor and stupidity’. Even now, several months later, she felt a pang when she remembered her old master. He had betrayed her; he had hurt her sister psychologically, forcing her sister Setie to run for her life. He had been responsible for Istara casting herself from everything she had known, not once, but twice. But before all of that, he had been the single stable thing in her entire bloody life. She had loved him, and he had returned that love. And then he had died. And to die so stupidly, cut down a Republic sniper of all things. She shook her head, this wool gathering was pointless. She smoothed her white uniform dress one more time and walked towards the door to the ‘guest’ room. At least it was a real nurse’s uniform, and not one of the silly things that pervaded adult holo vids these days. She did know a little about nursing. Trugoy had been fond of odd punishments for students who got out of line, so she had spent a week once volunteering in a medical clinic. It had been ghastly for a Bladeborn, but educational.

 

She stopped at the nurse’s station just inside the ward and nodded to the duty nurse. The brown skinned Twi’lek there gave her a wary glance but relaxed as Istara gave a wan smile.

 

“My name is Istara." The Bladeborn said slowly. "I am not here to usurp anything, Ma’am. Just want to try and help if I can. They did not tell me your name.”

 

"Why am I not surprised? Everything is catch as catch can at the moment." The Twi’lek’s orange eyes relaxed. She laughed a bit sourly and extended a hand. “My name is Mi’sani, Istara. I am the head nurse. You have you work cut out for you. He is pain in the butt.”

 

Istara chuckled softly as she shook the Twi’lek’s hand. “Bladeborn do not get the easy jobs, Mi’sani. I guess I am under your command for this.” The Twi’lek gave her a look and Istara shrugged. “I am not a healer by trade. I learned a long time ago to listen to professionals. I have worked in a clinic, so I know the basic drill.” Mi’sani gave Istara a once over with her eyes and Istara flushed. “Yeah, it has been a while. Nana told me he had compound fractures. Is he in traction?”

 

"We try." Mi’sani sighed sadly. “We can’t keep him in the bed long enough for them to heal. He keeps trying to escape. And every time he does, he hurts himself again. He keeps trying to tear the casts off.”

 

"Joy." Istara blew out a long breath. “Let me talk to him. I might be able to get him to listen. Maybe.” She said quietly. “I have dealt with Special Forces before. They tend to be a bit boneheaded.”

 

Mi’sani snorted. “’A bit’? Sheesh, I don’t want to meet anyone you would say is ‘a lot’ boneheaded. He is in room 4. Here, this will get you in.” She handed Istara a badge. It glowed for a moment as it scanned her DNA and then it sat quietly on Istara’s shoulder where she hooked it in plain view. “His lunch meal is coming up. Don’t let him make a mess please.”

 

Istara was chuckling as she picked a tray up out of a hollow in the wall and started towards the room Mi’sani had indicated. She waited for a moment at the door while her tag identified her to the lock and then the door hissed open. She walked into the room. The Sitolon had built these rooms to look like standard shipboard staterooms. They often had ‘guests’ of various kinds. This one was set up as a medical ward, with monitor equipment all around. The only furniture were a chair, a table and the bed. The bed was a hospital type bed, with rails on the sides to keep patients from falling out. In the bed, a blonde haired human eyed her impassively. Bandages circled his head and his legs…

 

Istara sighed. “Lieutenant Svina… Why do you keep pulling the casts off?” She set the tray down on the low table, and stepped towards the bed. She stopped out of reach and waited for the man to reply.

 

The man in the bed met her brown eyes with clam hazel ones and his voice was steady, despite the drugs she knew he was on. “Svina, Derik. Lieutenant. 02918A6539.”

 

Istara nodded, and her voice was flat. “Well, duh.” The soldier stared at her, uncertain how to take that and Istara pressed her advantage. “I didn’t ask who you were. We know that. I asked why you keep trying to hurt yourself.”

 

The man kept his eyes on her. “Svina, Derik. Lieutenant. 02918A6539.”

 

Istara rolled her shoulders and sighed again. “Like that, huh? Okay.” She shrugged and started working. She twisted a control and folding table extended over the man in the bed. Istara picked up the tray and moved it to where he could reach. “Lunch is served. I need to check some things. If you try and hit me, I will hurt you, clear?”

 

The man’s face would have been made of stone. “Svina, Derik. Lieutenant. 02918A6539.”

 

Istara shook her head and started an examination of the broken legs. What she found made her wince. Not only had he managed somehow to remove the casts on his legs, he had dislodged the plumbing apparatus as well. She shook her head again. “You are just being a kriffing pain because you can, aren’t you?” She looked up and was not surprised to see his eyes on her. He hadn’t moved to eat. “You need to eat, Lieutenant. And I need to replace the catheter.” A tightening in the skin of the man’s face had Istara sighing again. “If I don’t, you are going to make a godsawful mess in the very near future. Do you want to lie in your filth? I know you Special Forces guys are tough, but come on, pal…”

 

Lieutenant Svina didn’t react and his voice was soft. “Svina, Derik. Lieutenant. 02918A6539.”

 

Istara had to admit it; this guy was getting to her. She had a number of things she could do, but… She found she didn’t want to hurt the guy, he had been through hell. And he wasn’t technically an enemy at the moment. Bladeborn had strict rules about prisoners and the Sitolon had even stricter ones. So she sat down beside the bed. “My name is Istara Sharlina Andal. I am not your enemy, soldier. Tell me this, did they put machines on your head that stung you with electricity or did they inject you with something that burned like liquid fire?”

 

The man opened his mouth to speak his name, rank and service number again, but froze as Istara’s last words registered. Istara nodded. “Yes, I know about that. I know what happens when you are injected with that. It’s a bunch of microscopic machines actually, not a drug. You cannot disobey, no matter what the orders are. It hurts like hell and your body does very strange things. They did that to you, didn’t they?”

 

The man nodded and then jerked. He snarled at her and spoke softly. “Svina, Derik. Lieutenant. 02918A6539.”

 

Istara shook her head. “I am not your enemy, Lieutenant Svina. And right now, I need to hook you back up or you are going to have an accident. Will you let me?” The soldier in the bed stared at her for a long moment and then closed his eyes. He slumped in place, not a surrender, more of a tactical retreat.

 

Istara did what had to be done in silence. The man in the bed did not move or make a sound as she finished. She shook her head as she covered him back up. “Lieutenant Svina, I know this is hard for you to believe, but we are not your enemies. The beings on this ship just want to be left alone. Once you are healed enough to move under your own power, you will be remanded to a Republic medical facility. You haven’t seen anything that can endanger this ship or her crew and we are going to keep it that way. Now the rough part. Easy there soldier. I will be quick.”

 

She replaced the casts on the man’s twisted legs, ignoring the half strangled cries of pain that came as she tightened the inflatable things over his broken femurs. Femurs were the worst. Nothing else on the human body hurt as much as the long bone of the leg when broken. The man slumped in the bed when she was done, his control undone by the sheer pain that the two broken legs gave him.

 

Istara shook her head. “Is that part of it? Pain keeps you focused? I know it does for me.” The man’s startled eyes met her and she smiled sadly. She shook her head when he opened his mouth. “No, no, don’t answer that. I will be back for the tray in an hour.” She turned to go.

 

A soft voice had her stopping in her tracks. “What are you? You are not Sith.”

 

"Me?" Istara did not turn. “I am someone who knows exactly what it feels like to not be in control of her own actions, Lieutenant Svina. I am someone who wants to help. I am someone who is not your enemy today. Tomorrow, maybe. Next year, maybe. But not today. Eat up Lieutenant, you have a lot of healing to do.” She left the room aware of his scrutiny on her back.

[kalenath]

When Istara returned to the room, she was surprised to find that the soldier had eaten the meal she had provided. She had half expected Lieutenant Svina to either throw it away or ignore it completely. It seemed he was not completely stupid. Of course, propaganda aside, a being did not actually become a Special Forces soldier if that being was stupid. There was simply too much to learn for someone who was unintelligent to be able to keep up. Now they acted stupid, or stupidly to Istara at least, on many occasions. Case in point, the sheer insanity that the LT had been part of to get in the shape he was in. Only someone insane, or insanely dedicated, would jump out of a perfectly good spacecraft and float for twenty kilometers to land on another. She smiled as the door closed behind her.

 

She kept her voice pleasant. “Was the meal to you satisfaction?” The Lieutenant just stared at her and she shrugged. “You are a prisoner, Lieutenant. That doesn’t mean we have to be impolite.”

 

"I don't understand." The LT’s voice was slightly slurred and Istara’s eyes narrowed a bit. “What do you want from me?”

 

"Me?" Istara stayed where she was. “Lieutenant Svina, what I want is to see you healed enough to be mobile. Then I want you off this ship. Your very presence is a danger to people I care a great deal about.”

 

"What?" The LT’s eyes went wide at that and then they went flat. “You are a Sith.”

 

"No." Istara shook her head and spoke quietly but firmly. “No I am not.”

 

The hurt soldier snarled at her. “You are lying. It is what Sith do. What do you want from me?” He struggled to sit up, hissing as the pain in his legs increased.

 

"Right now?" Istara snarled right back. “I want you to lie still before you tear your fraking legs off.” The mild obscenity had the LT freezing for a moment and Istara pushed her advantage. “Look Lieutenant, I know why you attacked his ship. Did Vandar tell you why Sharra was here?”

 

The LT’s eyes went wide at that, but then his face hardened. “How do you… You barvette…! You drugged me!”

 

"Duh." Istara shook her head sadly. “I am going to put that down to the fact that you are in pain and not thinking clearly. Of course we have drugged you, you moron. If we did not have you on painkillers, you would be screaming your lungs out, Special Forces training or no. But no, we did not interrogate you or any of your people. We didn’t have to.” The man stared at her and Istara scoffed. “Oh, come on! You were not an assault team. I mean… One squad? No heavy weapons? Sedative gas? Tranquilizer guns? You must think we are the stupidest things in the galaxy. You were a recon team sent after Sharra Kalenath and her kid. By Jedi Master Vandar most likely and his master.”

 

Lieutenant Svina jerked in place and a strangled oath escaped his control. “How the hell…?” He asked before his mouth clamped shut.

 

"I know what they do." Istara sighed and forced herself to relax. “Lieutenant Svina, I have been fighting Special Branch for a long time. They call me ‘The Dark Woman’. I have fought them on more worlds than I can count. Don’t tell me that what they are doing is for the benefit of the Republic now. Don’t you dare tell me that!” She speared a finger at him as if ready to impale him with it. “You are smarter than that!”

 

The LT stared at her and then slumped in his bed. “No…” His voice was quiet, almost inaudible. “I am not smart. If I was smart, I would have found a way to get away. To tell someone. Before… this…” He waved at the four walls around him and the bed he was stuck in.

 

"How?" Istara sighed and shook her head. When she spoke, her voice was kind. “They have a lot of experience in lying, Lieutenant. Hell, Vandar fooled Will and that takes a lot of doing. Will expects backstabs from everyone, even me, although I won’t. I like my health.”

 

Lieutenant Svina stared at her, his eyes speculative. “You know Will Kalenath?”

 

"A bit." Istara snickered and then nodded. “The man is a nut, but everything he does is for his family. Tell me true, LT. If we had kidnapped Sharra Kalenath, would he have just stood by and let us?”

 

The man in the bed stared at the Bladeborn for a long moment before sighing and shaking his head. “No. No, he would not have. Another lie…” His head dropped back to his pillow and his eyes closed for a moment. “So where does that leave me and my people?”

 

Istara shrugged, her face uncertain. “I don’t know. We want to see you healed and then we want to give you back to the Republic, but if we do…”

 

The LT nodded slowly. “We disappear. Either back into Special Branch’s unwilling service or unmarked graves. Damnit…” He snarled. “I should have done something…Anything…”

 

Istara’s voice was kind again. “What could you have done? Once they put those things inside you, you could not disobey.” The LT nodded silently. “But now they are gone.”

 

The Special Forces Lieutenant shook his head slowly. “Are they?” He asked slowly. “I don’t feel any different.”

 

Istara nodded with a sour smile. “They are gone. Not only were they deactivated, but they were flushed out of your body. It was fairly disgusting.” She grinned at his expression.

 

"Well..." Lieutenant Svina snorted in sour amusement. “That is pretty much a job description for Special Forces, Ma’am. ‘Fairly disgusting’.”

 

Istara smiled widely. “For Bladeborn too.” She stiffened as LT Svina froze. She nodded. “Yes, I am Bladeborn, but I do not serve the Empire.”

 

For the first time, fear crept into the LT’s voice. “Neither did he.”

 

"I see." Istara’s expression hardened. “Let me guess. You had to work with someone who laughed a lot.” It wasn’t a question but the LT nodded anyway. “When we find him, we will kill him.” Here was no give at all in her words.

 

“Want some help?” Lieutenant Svina said quietly. “I saw some of what he and the doctor left behind… I…” He looked sick and Istara shook her head.

 

The Bladeborn’s voice was kind now. “Lieutenant Svina, right now, your primary focus has to be healing. Please stop tearing the casts off. You slow your healing and we can’t have that. If we have to, we can sedate you and drop you in a kolto tank for a week. We would rather not.”

 

"Huh?" The Special Forces soldier stared at Istara, obviously confused. “Why not? It would be more efficient.”

 

Istara shook her head. “It would not be polite. You are a prisoner, yes. You are not our enemy. We are not going to treat you like one. Clear?”

 

"No." The LT shook his head, baffled. “That doesn’t make sense, Ma’am.”

 

"Okay." Istara smirked. “Think of it as the carrot and the stick. You do as you are told and you will heal with no impairment. You keep being a pain in the shebs and I may have to spank you.”

 

"Spank me?" The Lt stared at her and then laughed a bit sourly. “You would, wouldn’t you?” He slumped. “What do I do?”

 

Istara smiled gently. “For now, rest. We have some holo-novels if you want read. If not I can find something else for you to do while you are cooped up. I know how it feels to be immobile. So…” Se reached into a pocket and pulled a can out. “Don’t tell the docs…” She laid it on the table that his meal tray was on and picked up the tray.

 

Lieutenant Svina stared at the can and then at her. “How did you smuggle a beer in here?”

 

Istara smirked. “I have my ways. Unfortunately it is something the Correllians call ‘light beer’. But it is all we have.”

 

"Its beer." The LT grimaced but then smiled. “Better than nothing I guess. But still… yuck…” He said reading the label. “Love in a small boat beer.”

 

"Oh yes, I know that one." Istara was chuckling as she walked towards the door. “Yep, kriffing close to water…”

[kalenath]

Istara had to admit it, this guy was impressing her. In all the wrongs ways, mind you, but he was impressing her. It was a day after she had brought him a beer and he had relaxed a little, been polite, had even read one of the trashy romance novels she had found in one of the nurse stations. But at heart, he was a soldier. So when she had come in this morning and found him on the floor, halfway to the door passed out from the pain in his legs, she hadn’t been totally surprised. Disappointed, but not surprised.

 

Istara sat quietly by the man’s bedside while he woke up. When he did, she felt a stab of pure terror jolt through him through Ashla. Her voice was quiet when she spoke. “You are fine LT. Not for lack of you trying to rip your legs off.“

 

"Istara?" Svina’s eyes shot opened and he stared at her and then at the bed he was in. “I… Oh crap… I am sorry… I just…” He slumped.

 

Istara raised an eyebrow, this was totally unlike the man. “What is wrong?” She asked quietly.

 

Derik Svina met her eyes and something shone in them that she wondered about. But Ashla told her it was worry, and not for himself. “I know it was wrong, but halfway through that last novel it hit me. I don’t know what happened to my people. And there is no call button.”

 

Istara blinked. She knew her face held confusion. “Surely they have told you?” The LT shook his head and Istara felt an old, familiar feeling. Anger was welling. “What?” She asked carefully, aware that her control had eroded.

 

"Maybe they did." Svina’s voice was soft. “If so, I can’t remember. I’ve been… loopy…” He grimaced.

 

“Dammit, that is why you have been trying to get out.” The LT nodded silently and Istara shook her head. “I don’t know all the particulars. Two of your people died when they hit the hull. One, a male human, had a suit rupture on contact with a high gain antenna. They say he grounded the power line.” The LT winced but Istara continued in that same calm, kind voice. “Another, a female Twilek, landed badly and hit her head. The docs say she died instantly, a broken neck. Probably was out like a light.”

 

The LT was breathing heavily now, his face ashen. “Shin’tal… I need to… I have to see them.” He stared at his legs in their replaced casts and snarled. “Damn it! I have to see them! They are my responsibility. I got them all into this mess…”

 

Istara nodded, her face set. “Well… I can’t get access to the monitors in here. It’s a closed system, designed that way to keep people from hacking it. And anyway, holo images can be faked.” The LT looked at her a baffled expression on his face. Istara mused for another moment and then smiled a bit sadly. “I know about being a commander. Do you trust me, Lieutenant Svina?”

 

"Trust you?" The bedridden man sighed and spoke a bit ruefully. “I shouldn’t. But I do. Why?”

 

"Right." Istara nodded to him and her smile was gentle. “The way this place’s security is set up, there is no way you can get out. Unless I take you out.”

 

The LT laughed, a sound as almost as bitter as raw coffee grounds. “And how are you going to do that? I can’t… walk…” His words trailed off as Istara rose slowly from her seat, a look of determination on her face. “Ma’am…?”

 

Istara leaned closer, well within reach if he decided to defend himself. “I need to unhook you. I will get you to your people. And then we will have to come back. Clear?”

 

Lieutenant Svina had fought Sith, pirates, slavers and other assorted scum. He had never felt so thoroughly overwhelmed as he was by this woman’s presence. Something about her spoke of barely repressed rage and power. But at the same time, she was kind. He could not find his tongue so he nodded instead. Istara nodded to him and started unhooking him from the monitors and plumbing.

 

Svina stared as the strange woman’s hands literally flew over the monitors and the tubes connected to him. In short order, they were all unhooked and he shook his head. “A gurney or chair?”

 

"I can." Istara shook her head and then paused. “Do you want one? It might be less embarrassing.”

 

Svina stared at her. “How did you plan to…?” His words broke off in a strangle cry as she literally scooped him up from his bed and held him in midair like a rag doll. This woman was strong! It should have been terrifying, to be held off the ground in someone else’s grip. It wasn’t. He knew, somehow, that she would not drop him or let him come to harm. Somehow he knew she would die first. There was something about the woman that he saw every day. Well, every day he wasn’t a prisoner. A rock hard determination to do whatever it took to get the job done. His voice was soft. “Ma’am… You are nuts…”

 

Istara grinned at him. “’Better to ask forgiveness than permission’, right?” Svina couldn’t help it, he laughed. Istara smiled and started walking towards the door. “Hang on LT, I’ll get you to a wheel chair or something. The commanding officer’s dignity would be damaged if he was carried in. And it really looks bad if the commander face plants. Really, really bad.”

 

Svina was chuckling as Istara carried him out of the room that had been his home, only to stop short as an irate voice spoke up. “Istara! What do you think you are doing?”

 

The irate Twi’lek in nurse’s attire actually froze when Istara’s expression landed on her. Istara’s voice was almost normal. Almost. “Mi’sani, he was trying to see how his people were doing. He wasn’t being a pain, he was worried about his people. It’s his job.”

 

The LT in Istara’s arms squirmed a bit and she loosened her grip enough to let him wiggle, but not enough to let him go. He spoke softly. “Ma’am… Nurse Mi’sani… I am sorry I have been a bad patient… But my people… I… I have to know.”

 

Mi’sani stared from Istara to the man in her arms and slumped. “Aw crap…” She spun in place and pulled a wheeled chair out of a hidden closet. She wheeled it close and motioned for Istara to put the man down. “Sorry, lieutenant… I…” She shook her head. “I get so many bad patients, I tend to lump people into that category automatically. I will work on that.”

 

Lieutenant Svina hissed as Istara laid him down gently. It hurt, but he could handle it. He smiled at Mi’sani. “No problem, Ma’am. All the other docs tell me I am a bad patient.”

 

"Oh?" Istara smiled as she pulled a blanket from the back pocket of the chair and spread it over the casts on the LT’s legs. “Why does that not surprise me? If you will point me to where his people are bunked, Mi’sani, I will take him and bring him back.”

 

The female Twi’lek looked at Istara and there as a small smile on the medics face. “Bay six. They are bunked together. Your badge will get you in.” Istara started the chair off, aware of the medic’s wry look.

 

Lieutenant Svina shook his head. “Who are you, Ma’am? And don’t tell me ‘just a Bladeborn’. You are nothing like Ravishaw’s people.”

 

"Thank you." Istara’s voice was flat when she spoke. “No I am not. He was cast out; I will not call him by that name. He chose that name when he ascended to our ranks and he lost it when we cast him out. We call him Morey now; that was his name before.”

 

"Pity you didn't manage to kill him." Svina laughed a bit sourly. “Morey, huh? Less frightening. So… What are you, Istara Sharlina Andal?”

 

"For a long time, I was a killer. Now?" Istara bit her lip for a moment before speaking. “A defender, a guardian, and a soldier.”

 

"A soldier?" Svina smiled a bit at that. “Remind me never to fight you.”

[kalenath]

As Istara wheeled the chair holding the incapacitated Lieutenant into the bay, she was unsurprised to hear someone in the room shout ‘Room Atten-Shun!’ She kept her face impassive as the LT straightened as best he could. All the quiet activity in the bay stopped and the silence was so absolute that a pin dropping would have sounded like a grenade going off.

 

“As you were, people.” The LT said in a quiet voice. “Sergeant Hilon, report.”

 

A female wearing a patient gown snapped to stiffer attention. What little of her hair was visible was cut military short and was either dark brown or black. “Sir, I beg to report that the mission…” She broke off as the LT snorted in sour amusement.

 

"Sergeant, relax." Istara looked at the LT and he was smiling sadly. His voice however was strong. “The mission has gone completely off the rails. We were set up, maybe to get killed, maybe just to vanish. I heard about Shin’tal, who else… Aw no…” He said quietly as he looked around the bay. “Wils…?”

 

The sergeant nodded stiffly. “Yes sir, he hit hard, there was a flash… I…” The sergeant bowed her head. “My fault sir.”

 

The LT took a deep breath and snarled at the sergeant. “Bull, sergeant. What could you have done? Held his hand while he landed? He knew the risks. None of us volunteered for the Forces expecting to have nice safe desk jobs. Did we?” A muted laugh ran around the room. “Let me look at you all.”

 

Istara watched as the team, four humans, a Bothan, and a Zabrak formed neat ranks behind their sergeant. All had signs of injury. The sergeant had a bandage around her head; the Bothan had his right arm in a cast. Two of the humans had casts as well, one on a leg, the other on an arm. But even injured, all looked ready to fight.

 

"Of all the..." Lieutenant Svina shook his head slowly. “I have rarely seen such sorry excuses for troopers. When was the last time any of you did PT?” More than one of the troopers goggled at him only to freeze as his steely gaze swept over them.

 

The sergeant looked downcast. “Sir, begging your pardon, we just got these quarters this morning…” But Istara was sure there was a grin somewhere in her expression. It sure was in her sense in Ashla.

 

The LT sighed, but there was bubble of mirth in his sense as well. “Excuses, excuses. My own minder isn’t going to let me do jumping jacks any time soon.” He turned his head to Istara and she had to control herself when he winked at her.

 

"Not going to happen." Istara played along; her own voice was severe when she spoke. “The doctors don’t want you walking for some time lieutenant. I obey their orders. So should you.”

 

The LT grumbled, but it was spoiled by the small grin he had on his face. When he turned back to the team however, his voice was serious. “Sergeant, how have you been treated?”

 

The sergeant shook her head slowly. “I expected to be treated badly, sir. These people…” She eyed Istara warily. “They are…” She broke off, unsure of what to say.

 

Istara snorted. “Weird.” All eyes turned to her and she shrugged. “If you all want to talk privately, I can wait outside, Lieutenant Svina.”

 

The LT shook his head. “And give the docs more reason to yell at both of us? I think not. Istara Sharlina Andal, this is Sergeant Holin. Behind him are Corporal Kuil Melan…” The Bothan nodded. “Specialist Narrauo, team medic…” The Zabrak nodded. “…and Privates Sims, Jilin, Hickson, and Karter. People, meet Istara Sharlina Andal, my minder.”

 

"Sir..." The sergeant eyed Istara for a moment before speaking. “With all due respect sir, if she is a nurse I will eat my helmet.”

 

"Oh?" Istara smiled. “Would you want fries with that?”

 

All of the soldiers stared at her and then the LT laughed. Then he winced. “Don’t make me laugh, Istara, man that hurt…” Istara laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and power flowed into him, soothing a bit. He stared at her. “Thanks…”

 

"Lieutenant." Istara shook her head. “All I did was deaden the pain. You still hurt, you just don’t feel it. But like I told you it looks bad when the CO face plants.”

 

Sergeant Holin shook her head slowly. “You served, Ma’am?”

 

Istara sighed. “Not with your people.” The tension in the room skyrocketed and Istara raised empty hands. “I am not your enemy, sergeant. I will wait outside, Lieutenant.”

 

Lieutenant Svina raised a hand as well. “Istara… wait…” He looked around the room. “We need to talk, all of us. And you are the only source of information we have at the moment. Any chance you might find more beer?”

 

"Maybe." Istara chuckled at the expressions on the faces of the troops. “Give me a minute. I’ll be right back.”

 

As the door closed, she heard the sergeant speak. “Sir… What the hell…?” Whatever Svina said in response was cut off by the door. Hard part done, now she just had to find some real beer.

[kalenath]

It had been very odd. Istara had fought Special Forces troops before. She had seen a bit about how they were selected and trained. Nothing could have possibly prepared her for the camaraderie though. It felt very familiar and at the same time, very alien. Yes, there was a chain of command. Lieutenant Svina and Sergeant Holin were very much in charge, but the LT was right there with his men. It made some sense actually. You did not want to go into battle beside people you could not trust. These beings trusted each other. That was clear as day, even without the senses she got through Ashla. They did not trust Istara of course, but they did drink with her. It was very odd.

 

The Sitolon hadn’t known what to say when she had asked for six packs. She had explained fairly thoroughly. The docs had all gone up in flames of course. After all, all of these people were injured. They didn’t want to add alcohol poisoning to the list. Istara had persevered though and had eventually walked back into the room toting an ice chest filled with beer. Light beer unfortunately, but the docs had utterly been set against anything stronger.

 

The LT had drunk one beer, and then he picked up another and had looked at Istara and she had shaken her head. He nodded. He was the worst injured of the group and she did not want him to get falling down drunk. He was smart though. He opened the third can, but sipped gingerly from it. She had opened a can herself, but she nursed it. She was not about to let her control lapse, especially around soldiers. Istara noted that the sergeant was doing the same and they had shared a nod as well.

 

Sergaent Hilon did not trust Istara, and that was fine by her. Istara understood soldiers better than she understood Sith. Heck, Bladeborn had much more in common with soldiers than the nuts who carried red lightsabers. And these soldiers were not common cannon fodder. After the first few moments of shock and surprise when she opened the ice chest, they had settled down. None of them were drinking to excess. Karter was on her third, but she was heavily built and she had eaten something as she drank, so she knew what she was doing. She was worried about Lieutenant Svina though. He was a bit paler.

 

The LT noted her scrutiny and smiled a bit. “I am not going to collapse Istara. I know my limits. I am getting close to them, but I will tell you when I should go.”

 

"Good." Istara smiled naturally. “I don’t want the docs mad at me.”

 

There had been a subtle tension building as the people in the bay relaxed a little. The beer had been a shock, but now they had something to focus on that wasn’t themselves. Istara knew she was odd to these people. She did not fall into any category they knew. She wasn’t a soldier, a Jedi, a Sith, or anything they understood. She wasn’t even like any of Morey’s scum. So, sooner or later, they were going to test her. It came sooner than she had expected and from another of the privates.

 

Private Hickson was a quiet sort; he had dark hair and alert blue eyes that didn’t seem to miss anything. Istara’s senses cried ‘Sniper’ to her, but she pretty much ignored that. His voice was soft and sort of respectful when he spoke. “What kind of a Sith admits to fear?”

 

Istara looked at the man and slowly took a sip of her beer before responding. “Most Sith would rather die than admit to fear. They use it, that and other emotions, to fuel their power. But fear is a weakness right?” She scoffed.”I am not a Sith. I can say I am afraid of what the docs will make me do to make up for this.” She waved a slow hand around the bay, indicating the beer cans that were stacked neatly and not so neatly around the area. Seven people, even drinking carefully, can drink a lot of light beer.

 

Private Hickson stared at her, his eyes appraising. “Then what are you?” He finished his second beer and started on a third.

 

Istara looked at the man and shook her head slowly. Her hair cascaded across her face, she really needed to cut it. “I don’t know, to tell you the truth. I was a servant of the Empire, a loyal one. But the SIth live betrayal and I… I don’t…” She shrugged, ignoring the hard looked that came from all around her. “I had to save my sister, so I left.”

 

Sergeant Holin scoffed. “Just like that?” Her face was hard, severe even.

 

"Hardly." Istara snorted in matching sour amusement. “Don’t tell me you people have never been in a position where you have had to choose the lesser of two evils.”

 

The sergeant looked at the lieutenant, who shrugged. Lieutenant Svina’s voice was soft, he knew what was coming. “Who were you then, Istara?”

 

"Okay." Istara sighed and put her beer down. Her voice was soft and her posture unthreatening. “My name was Sharlina of the Bladeborn.”

 

Everyone in the bay, besides the LT, froze in place. Lieutenant Svina took another sip from his can and set it down. Then he barked. “At ease, people!”

 

All of the soldiers in the bay stared at him and then at Istara. The sergeant was eyeing her. “You are the ‘Dark Woman’, the one who tore a bunch of Special Branch bases apart. I lost friends to you.”

 

"I know." Istara nodded and slowly, ever so slowly, reached down to pick up her beer again. This time she took a long pull from it before setting it down again. “I make no excuse for what I was, Sergeant Holin. I swore an oath to save Will’s family and I did. Special Branch were and are my enemies. You are not. You all were coerced, programmed, to serve them.”

 

"Will?" The sergeant froze in place. “Will Kalenath’s family…?” She asked as if dazed.

 

Istara nodded slowly, all eyes were on her as she sat slowly in a meditative posture. “Let’s get it all out on the open. I was at the Sacking.” A pin dropping would have been a thunderclap in the silence that followed. “I had a battalion. They were slaughtered because another Sith wanted glory. I killed him and went my own way. I found a hidden Special Branch base. In it, I found the fight I had been looking for. No innocents to get in the way, no gray areas, no politics, no backstabbing confederates… Just a straight fight with automated defenses. I loved it. That was what I was then, just a fighter, a killer. I always wanted to find a better fight. After…” She paused and took another sip of her beer before setting it down again. “After the fight I was curious. I searched the base. They had apparently left in a hurry. I found unencrypted datapads. On them were what they were doing to Maria and Samuel Kalenath. Will’s parents.”

 

Hickson’s eyes bored into Istara. “Why help him? You were enemies.”

 

"Yes I was." Whatever they might have been expecting, they could have expected Istara to smile sadly. All of them blinked almost in unison. Istara’s voice was soft. “He didn’t kill me once. He had me at his mercy, and didn’t shoot. Bladeborn, besides Morey’s sect that you know about, are very strict about such things. I owed him. I paid that debt.” She looked at the floor for a moment. “It cost me everything I had, everything I was, but I paid the debt.” When her eyes came up they pinned the sergeant in place. “If we fight, one of us will die. I am not your enemy sergeant. Not now.”

 

The sergeant shook her head slowly. “I want to believe you, Ma’am… But everything I am… I serve the Republic. I believe in the Republic. I would give my life for the Republic, if that was needed. You are an enemy of the Republic.” Everything stopped in the bay as people waited for Istara’s answer.

 

Istara shook her head slowly, but her eyes never left the sergeant’s. “If I were, you would be dead, sergeant. I was, once. Now…? I don’t know. I am an enemy of Special Branch, does that make me an enemy of the Republic?” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Your point of view is that we are enemies. My point of view is that we are not.” She slumped. “Never the twain shall meet, huh?” She sighed and then jerked as the door hissed open behind her.

 

Everyone froze in place as a black armored form entered the room. Will Kalenath’s face was set, but his eyes were twinkling. It was the woman who followed him with a bundle in her arms that had everyone staring. Sharra Kalenath looked good, her hair was a mess, her clothing likewise, but the grin on her face was wide. Istara groaned. “Will….”

 

"Hiya Istara>" Will smiled naturally. “Hey, I heard there was free beer.” A strained laugh swept the room.

 

Sharra smiled widely at the dumbfounded troopers that were scattered around the bay. “Hello everyone, I want you to meet someone.” She held up the bundle and small sleeping face was seen. “Meet James, our son.”

 

Istara smiled widely at seeing the small face. She loved kids, she always had, she always would. Part was the horror she had endured as a child, part was that twice she had almost been a mother herself. Part was the Bladeborn training that children were to be treasured.

 

"Um..." She sniffed. “I think he needs changing, Sharra.”

 

"Oh?" Sharra grinned just as widely as Istara had. “Did you just volunteer?” Istara winced dramatically, but smiled as she rose slowly. She stood in place as Sharra came up and deposited the small wriggling bundle in the Bladeborn’s arms. Just like that, the tension in the room vanished as if it had never been. Sharra started opening a pack that she carried. “Good to see a group of soldiers again. Hanging around all these sword swinging types gets… old…”

 

Istara could feign indignation with the best. “Hey!” She protested, but she was careful not to jar the slumbering infant.

 

Sergeant Hilon shook her head slowly. “You trust her… with your kid…?”

 

"Yes." Sharra smiled. “And with my life.”

 

The sergeant slumped and then smiled. “Good enough for me…” She pulled a can from the ice chest and opened it.

[kalenath]

Istara had a bemused smile on her face as the rest of the small group sat and watched Will and Sergeant Holin arm wrestle. What had begun as a joke had turned quickly into a challenge and none of these people would back down from a challenge. She snorted as she realized neither would she. She watched with a grin as Will’s arm was forced down and the sergeant gave a cry of victory as the older soldier’s hand touched the table. The two soldiers shook the hands they hadn’t been using and stepped back from the table they had ‘appropriated’ for their impromptu manliness display.

 

“Men…” Came the sour voice of Sharra from where she sat watching. James had woken hungry, been fed, and now he was sleeping again. “I think I need to take this young soldier to his bed.” Istara rose to help Sharra to her feet. Sharra smiled as she got carefully to her feet. “Don’t stay up too late.” She grinned as she reached out with a free hand and tweaked Will’s ear.

 

“Yes Ma’am.” Will replied in a meek voice that had more than one of the troopers smothering laughs. If there was one thing Will Kalenath was not it was meek.

 

When the door hissed open, the Twi’lek nurse Mi’sani was standing there. “Lieutenant… Time for bed.” Her tone brooked no argument.

 

Istara moved to take hold of the LT’s chair and he shook his head. “Istara… Can you try and keep my people out of trouble?” He grinned at the look on her face. “Try?”

 

Istara chuckled as Mi’sani came in and started the chair towards the door. “You have my word, LT. I will keep them in line.” As soon as the door shut she grinned at Will, who winced. “I will…” She said with an innocent look.

 

Will shook his head with a sigh. “People… do not try and out drink or outfight this woman hand to hand, you will lose.”

 

The sergeant looked Istara up and down and nodded slowly. “Yeah, none of us are 100% anyway. While a tussle might be fun, the docs will get upset…”

 

"Oh you have no idea." Istara shivered. “You haven’t met the real docs here, yet. Trust me, you don’t know upset. But… Hmm…” She thought for a moment and then a small smile crept across her face. “I have a solution. We can’t fight, but no one said anything about other kinds of challenges, right?”

 

Will stared at Istara and then a slow smile crept across his face as well. “That is not a bad idea at all, Istara. You want to lead?”

 

Istara smiled and sat at the table. Her voice, while a bit rough started off. “Oh the year was 20198…” All eyes were on her and most were wide, but the sergeant and Will both joined in on the chorus. “How I wish I was in Coronet now!” They stopped and she continued. “A letter of marque came from the king, to the scummiest starship I ever seen…!” All the voices in the room started up with her as she entered the refrain.

 

“God damn them all!

I was told we'd cruise the stars for Corellian gold

We'd fire no guns-shed no tears

Now I'm a broken man on a Nar Shaddaa pier

The last of Barrett's Privateers.”

 

***

 

Four hours later, Istara helped Will and the sergeant pour Private Hickson into his bunk and then she nodded to both of the men. She kept her voice down, not that anything likely would have woken these people from their drunken stupors.

 

“That was fun, it has been a long time.”

 

Sergeant Holin shook her head as she pulled a chair up to a table that was totally covered with empty beer cans. She sighed and started cleaning up the mess. “I didn’t think Sith, er, Bladeborn, sorry M’am… knew how to drink. Or knew any decent drinking songs.” Will sat down beside her and indicated a chair.

 

Istara snorted. She was weaving a little. She had drunk more than she should have, but it had been fun. “Oh the upper classes are all too highfaluting for that. All, ‘I am Sith, me be bad news, me no can let me hair down’…” Both Will and Sergeant Holin laughed softly at that. “But the soldiers…? Oh you haven’t lived until you have heard some of what they sing when they get drunk.”

 

Will shook his head. “Soldiers are soldiers. Different nations, different philosophies, different goals, different methods, different training. But other than that, pretty much the same. Poor dumb grunts.” He raised an empty can to salute the sergeant, who raised one back. “Another round?”

 

Istara shook her head. “I have had more than enough, people. I am going to feel this tomorrow, er… later today…” She said glancing at her chrono.

 

Sergeant Holin grinned and knocked back half a can with one swallow. “Yep, never drink unless you are willing to pay for it. Speaking of paying…” She shook her head. “I was ready to hate you Ma’am. Maybe I will… But I understand why you did this, even if the docs are going to get steamed.”

 

"Well..." Istara nodded slowly. “I never hated Republic soldiers. I hated the Special Branch… I picked up too many broken and dying people from their labs to feel anything else. But I don’t hate you. Hate is a poison. One I know well. I…” She shook her head. “I am talking too much, I am drunk.”

 

Will nodded with a smile. “Yeah, you are Istara. And if I show in our quarters drunk Sharra will throw me out on my ear.” Both of the women at the table smiled at his mock sad tone. “So we better get on. I will talk to you later, sergeant. About drill and PT if you like. We all could use some I think.”

 

"Sir?" Sergeant Holin froze in place, her can halfway to her lips. “They would let us do that?”

 

"Well, yeah." Will smiled a bit sadly. “You are not enemies, and… I think… If your LT wishes… I could use you guys. And it would be legal. I can get orders cut for you.”

 

"Ah..." The sergeant shook her head slowly. “Sir… I… I would be honored, but the LT has the final say.”

 

Will nodded, that made sense. He wasn’t in their chain of command, not yet anyway. “Right. I’ll hit the LT with the idea in the morning. Er, whenever he wakes up. Come on Istara… Let’s get you to a bunk.” He rose and held out a hand which Istara took. The room was spinning a bit as she rose.

 

Istara smiled as Will led her to the door. “Could always use people who know how to fight, sergeant. I would be honored to fight beside you. Any of you.” Will chuckled as he led her from the room. After the door closed, Istara straightened and Will’s hands fell away. “You knew I wasn’t drunk.”

 

Will grinned. “So does she. You are a good actress Istara, but she respected your attempt to fit in.”

 

"Ah Will..." Istara shook her head as they walked. “You threw that contest, didn’t you?”

 

Will smiled enigmatically. “No comment.” He winced as Istara belted him in the shoulder.

 

"Gah!" Istara mock snarled at him. “Why do I put up with you? Oh, yeah, you are the only one here.”

 

Will sighed and his sense in Ashla was resigned now. “Istara…”

 

"Is it time...? Oh..." Istara slumped and stopped in place. “Do what you have to do Will. I knew they would want to deprogram me. I had hoped they would trust me enough to come in under my own power.”

 

"It's okay." Will shook his head. “It isn’t lack of trust Istara, its caution. You were programmed to obey the bug who programmed you.” He shook his head. “And kill anyone who tried to help you. Just like I was.”

 

"But..." Istara blinked. “What? It didn’t work then, did it?”

 

"They don't know." Will shook his head. “The commands were never activated Istara. Maybe whoever did it to you was killed before they could finish. Maybe they changed their minds, we don’t know.”

 

"Okay." Istara sighed and turned to the soldier, her hands at her side. “What do I do?”

 

Will had a stunner in hand. “Sleep, Istara.” A bright flash of blue and darkness claimed her.

[kalenath]

When Istara woke, she smiled. She could smell him. Her lover always smelled the same to her. No matter what he had been up to, no matter where he had been, he always smelled of wood smoke to her for some weird reason. It had to be something in her unconscious; he didn’t actually smell like that to anyone but her. She knew that, but she always enjoyed it. She sighed and opened her eyes. But they wouldn’t. She tried her arms and legs and they wouldn’t move either. She was restrained. At least the surface she was lying on was soft. She cast out with her senses and was unsurprised to find herself in a medical ward. Istara froze as a gentle hand touched her on the arm.

 

"Easy." Idjit’s voice was soft. “It’s okay, Istara. They are not done just yet. They wanted to wake you up and make sure you were tracking.”

 

"No..." Istara spoke carefully. Her voice was odd, she must be wearing an oxygen mask, she realized. “Don’t… Don’t take any chances Idjit… Not like the last time you found me restrained to a bed…” She tensed as his hand went somewhere else and then she laughed as he tickled her. “You rat…!”

 

Idjit’s voice was leering now. “I have to take what I can get, Istara.” But then his voice became serious. “Istara… I need to ask you something and I think it will hurt you. I don’t want to, but I need an answer.”

 

Istara slumped in the bed. “What?” She asked quietly.

 

"Istara." Idjit’s hand traced her arms again. “Who was Con?”

 

"Con?" Istara jerked in the restraints, and then forced herself to relax. She hadn’t expected that question. “He was… He was one of Amrig’s apprentices, a senior one. He was about sixteen when I got there, he had blond hair and… Drat I can’t remember if his eyes were green or blue. Doesn’t matter… He was a real piece of work. He was jealous of all of the younger apprentices, especially me.” She was breathing hard, trying to stay focused. She hated remembering that slimeball.

 

Idjit was silent for along moment. When he spoke it was calm and gentle, but concerned. “Are you sure, Istara?”

 

Istara would have blinked if she had been capable of it. “Yes, I am sure, Idjit. He was scum. He violated a younger apprentice, it was a power thing to him. Amirg punished him. Con was the kind of Sith that any of the Bladeborn would have loved to kill slowly. The kind who gets his jollies from hurting children.”

 

Idjit’s hand traced her arm again, that gentle calming touch. “Does Sharlina remember him?”

 

"What? Istara snorted as a feeling of pure rage swept through her from her other half. “Sharlina wants to remove his privates with a butter knife Idjit. Oh yes, she remembers him.”

 

Idjit sighed deeply. “Istara, there is no record of him anywhere. Not in our records, not in Sitolon records, and I am betting not in Imperial records either. Not that we can check that right now.”

 

Istara froze. “What are you saying? That I imagined him being a scum sucking child molester?”

 

Idjit’s voice was sharp as a blade now. “No.” There was hate in his voice now. “I am saying that all the records, including Bladeborn records, of this man are gone. It is like he never existed. He did, I remember you telling me about him just after we met. Well…” His voice had a smirk in it now. “After we had... um… gotten acquainted.”

 

Istara would have shaken her head if it would have moved, but it didn’t. Whatever held it was soft, but firm. “That is not… How could he have done that?” She asked quietly, her mind reeling.

 

"No one has any idea how he might have accessed Sitolon records, or if he did. They might just never have encountered him, or written it down. If he was just a minor apprentice to Amirg, then he might never have been noticed." Idjit’s voice was a gentle as his hand as it traced her cheek outside the mask. “As for the rest? I don’t think he did, Istara. I think he had help. Will has been talking with the Special Forces guys and apparently… One of the higher ups of the Special Branch has the name of Con. He doesn’t look like you remember, but…”

 

“Appearances can be changed… Chari is a case in point.” Istara felt her guts turn to water. “Oh my god… They did this to me?”

 

Idjit sighed and his hand was gently stroking her arm again, promoting calm. Istara savored that feeling. The seer’s voice was soft and gentle. “Apparently they did. The Sitolon are… well, incensed is probably the proper word. I have never seen them so angry. I have to admit, they are scary like this.”

 

Istara had to grin at his sour tone. Idjit was much more used to scaring other people, not being scared. “Wait a moment… Majistrona said that one of their people had to have done this.”

 

"I don't know." Idjit’s voice was worried now. “They think so. I don’t know Istara. We have both seen people brainwashed, programmed, controlled in various ways. But the methods they say were used are way beyond anything we have seen.”

 

"I know." Istara felt her eyes start to burn and for the first time in a long, long time, she let herself cry. “I am scared Idjit…” His hand was stroking her arm again. “If they can do this to me, set me up all those years ago… What else could they have done to me?”

 

Another kind voice answered her. “Nothing, sister.” She felt Nana’s presence approach. “We will make certain that whoever did this to you does not do so again. But for now, you need to heal, and we will help you heal.” Whatever was around her head moved, she could feel air around it. “We had to cut your hair, Istara…” Nana’s voice held apology.

 

Istara smiled sadly. “It was too long anyway, it was a pain to take care of. It will grow back.” Idjit’s hand traced her cheek again and she was comforted. “What do I do?” She asked quietly.

 

Nana’s voice was a gentle caress. “Come, my sister. We have missed you.” A whisper of a touch on her bare head and she was falling. But not into darkness. She was falling into light and comfort and love.

 

She started. She could feel Idjit's mind moving beside hers Wha..? She said in the depths of her mind.

 

You are never going to be rid of me, Istara. Never again. Came the smug reply from the blind seer.

 

Come brother Idjit, come sister Istara. Come home… The sound, the feel of Majistrona’s mind voice beckoned both of them forward and they flew into the mind mass of the Sitolon, both relaxing as they did, indeed, come home. We have a lot of work to do to help you Istara.

 

Istara radiated contentment, mixed with worry. Isn’t this dangerous Majistrona?

 

Yes it is. The ancient queen of the Sitolon hive said quietly. We are baiting a trap for the one who hurt you. None of us thought you would mind.

 

Istara felt anticipation build and she felt matching anticipation from her other half. Sharlina was ready to get some vengeance of her own. No, Majistrona, no I don’t.

 

Warmth encircled her and she fell into the embrace of the minds of the Sitolon gratefully.

[kalenath]

Istara could not help it. It felt downright terrifying to be out of control of her body. Even the reassurance from her other half and the whisper thin link that she maintained to the Sitolon hivemind were a bare comfort. This whole plan was insane, but hopefully, the sheer insanity of it would keep their target from realizing that it was, indeed, a trap.

 

She watched as her body worked the controls of the small spacecraft she was flying. The basic idea was simple. She had asked to attempt to fly, and given her track record she didn’t want anyone with her. After some lengthy debate, the Sitolon had given her a small scoutship. They had sworn to follow her and indeed, an entire squadron of small, nearly invisible drone ships had followed her as she had flown the pattern that she had worked out. But then, her body had suddenly stopped obeying her commands. She had watched, impotent, as her hands had flown, inputting commands into the navicomputer, which was supposed to have been deactivated, but apparently was not. She had watched, scared out of her mind while the ship had jumped into hyperspace, taking her to an unknown fate.

 

She could only watch as her body did everything it was supposed to. It ate, excreted and then showered, all with the motions she knew so well. Then her body lay down on the bunk and she was cast into darkness as her eyes closed. She did not want to sleep, she knew that. But whatever was in control of her body was too strong and lethargy took hold. She was cursing, fighting, trying to break the controls as she was cast into slumber that was anything but restful.

 

After an indeterminate time, her eyes snapped open again and she could only watch in a daze as her body walked back to the command chair, sat down and started working the controls. The ship reverted to realspace with a snap. She grimaced inside her mind as she realized that the ship had flown through an interdiction field. Whoever had been waiting for the ship had used the interdiction field to pull her ship from hyperspace. If they shut it off, there was literally no chance at all that anyone would be able to find her. She watched, silently beating at the walls that caged her inside her mind, as her body’s hands raced over the controls and activated the com systems.

 

Her voice was calm, cool and collected when she spoke. “This is subject 2, requesting permission to dock.”

 

A female sounding voice answered her. “Permission granted subject 2. You are to land in bay 1.”

 

Istara watched as her body worked the controls and then she flinched inside. A ship appeared on the screen, a Republic light cruiser, an old one. Foray class, the same type of ship as the Dia’s Gift had been, the lab ship of horrors that the space pirate Naj Orh had operated for Republic Intelligence’s Special Branch. Just looking at it hurt. The sense in Ashla was the same as Istara had felt when she had arrived aboard the Dia’s Gift, pain and fear resonating through Ashla and reverberating through her mind. Many minds’ pain and fear left a sour taste in her mouth, but her body slumped in the seat as the familiar sensation of a tractor beam grabbed the ship and started pulling it towards the hangar bay.

 

Istara was still struggling to get free when the ship shuddered a bit and she felt the air change. The hatch had opened. A soft, incredulous voice sounded from behind her. “Well, well, well… Istara Andal. How the mighty have fallen.”

 

She had tried hard to forget the man’s voice, but there was no mistaking Con. The sheer menace and lecherousness in the man’s voice was almost palpable. “You have cost us a lot of time and effort, girl… I am halfway tempted to have some fun with you.” A cold hand traced her cheek and Istara tried to shy away from the touch, but her body did not move. “But we don’t have time. Your allies will be along shortly. We need to get this done and be gone. Bring her.” Her sword was pulled from her back and the sense of loss was almost tangible. That sword was part of her.

 

Istara could not move as two sets of hand pulled her from the seat, set her on her feet and led her out of the ship. Her eyes would not move, but she could see that the men leading her wore Imperial uniforms. The inside of the ship however, was odd. Ships cluttered the bit of the deck that she could see, some were Imperial designs, some were Republic and some where others, Hutt designs and pirate ships and… She tried to flinch as the two sets of hands lifted her off her feet and deposited her on something soft, but again, nothing happened. It was probably a gurney from the feel. Rails snapped up into place and she was strapped to down.

 

The face she remembered from her early training under Sith Lord Amirg came into her field of view. “I wonder how you would feel if I broke this?” Con smirked as he examined her sword. “No, I think I will just hold onto it. It will make a nice trophy for my victory over you. Once the docs are done with you, I think I will take you, just like old times, Istara. But no silly Sith to stop me this time. I know you want it…”

 

“Sir.” A polite voice sounded nearby. ”Our orders are clear and we are on short time.”

 

Con pouted a bit. “Oh all right. Take her to programming. I will finish up here and then once she is done there, we can take her to the doc.” He leaned close and planted an obviously insincere kiss on Istara’s lips. “See you soon, dear.”

 

Istara could not move as the gurney started off. The sounds of a hangar bay vanished as they walked through hatch and other sounds, more horrific ones, started reaching her ears. Moans, cries of fear and pain from young voices. She saw a ceiling and could not tell how far they travelled. They were in an elevator for a bit and then more ceilings. Neither of the guards spoke. Their senses in Ashla were muted, but horrified. They were under someone else’s control, just as she was.

 

Another door hissed and she heard another voice. This one was mechanical. It sounded old, tired and female. It was...tantalizingly familiar. “Put her under the scanner.”

 

Istara was screaming in her mind as the gurney she was on was wheeled under a large apparatus. It swiveled down on silent bearings until several thin electrodes touched her scalp. Then something happened and her voice sounded a cry of fear and despair. Then something touched her again and it cut off as if sliced by a sword.

 

Istara listen to me, please… You must listen to me… The voice was the female one she had heard. We don’t have much time.

 

Who…? Istara asked in her mind.

 

I am not your enemy child. They made me do this. They said it would not harm you. They lied. I can undo what I… What I… Oh my god… They already did? A wild surge of hope flew through Istara from the other mind. A familiar mind now that Istara could sense it. She had sensed this before somewhere. She wasn’t sure where.

 

Who are you? Istara sent silently.

 

The other voice in her mind was intensely sad now. A traitor, a prisoner, a pawn, a fool, all of these and more I have been, Istara Andal… I had no idea why they wanted me, what horrors they wanted me for. I have done… such awful things… The sadness in the tone was almost more than Istara could bear. Tears were falling from her eyes now. I will undo what I can. Be ready. Something passed between the other mind and hers, something she couldn’t define. The voice vanished from Istara’s mind and she was still crying as the apparatus was withdrawn from her head.

 

"Istara?" Con’s voice sounded nearby. “Oh my dear, don’t cry. We have an appointment with a doctor soon for you.” The gurney inclined a little and she could see Con now, standing near the doorway of the room. He had her sword in one hand and… She inhaled sharply as she saw the cowering form in his grip. Con smiled. “I know how you idiotic Bladeborn feel about kids, so let’s see how you like seeing this worthless brat ended by your own blade.” Istara closed her eyes. “Come on, girl, you know you want to watch.”

 

The blade came back to strike, but then, everything stopped as the bound woman’s eyes opened again. This time, they were not her usual brown or even the silver that they usually took when she used her power in Ashla. No, these were a fiery red. Her hand came up, even bound at the wrist and power flared. Intense power. Dark power. The blade flew from the dumbstruck Sith’s hand to hers. In flight, it cut the bonds that held her to the gurney. Both guards scrambled back from the gurney as she rolled from it to assume a ready stance. Both were scrabbling for their blasters.

 

"Always the hard way?" Con stared at her and then smiled thinly. “Istara, Istara… You know better than to flout my wishes. Do you want this little brat to suffer?” Lightning played from his fingers and the girl in his hands shrieked.

 

The woman in front of him shook her head minutely and then her blade sang. Both of the guards were dead before they hit the floor. Then her right hand came off the hilt and up in a twisting motion. Con screamed as intense power grabbed the hand that had been holding the girl and twisted it back in a direction a human wrist had not been designed to move. It didn’t break, but the girl fell from his grip to land boneless on the floor. Then the woman had her hand back on her sword hilt. When the woman spoke, it was coldly mocking.

 

“Istara is not available at the moment. My name is Sharlina.”

 

Con had a bare moment to gape at her before she was in motion.

[kalenath]

It wasn’t a fight, although the troops aboard tried. It wasn’t a battle either, the word ‘battle’ implies that both sides have a chance to fight back. It wasn’t even a slaughter. No this was something far, far beyond any of these. There was a reason that the Special Branch of Republic Intelligence had called Sharlina ‘The Dark Woman’. And what was worse? She was mad. She stalked through the ship and everywhere she went gory death followed.

 

Con had managed to get his lightsaber ignited, for all the good it had done him. Sharlina may not have been the best Force user or lightsaber duelist in the galaxy, but with a steel blade, she was essentially unmatched. The old Sith pervert had gone down in seconds, his hands flying from his wrists and a gaping hole cut into his stomach. Teach him to wear armor under those robes. He had been begging, but she had been gone.

 

Alarms had started, belatedly, after she had hit the bridge, but by then it was too late. Foray class cruisers did not need a lot of crew. They were old, but a proven design. Forty beings could run the class of ship when they were introduced 300 years before, with automation, that number decreased. With all of the changes that Special Branch had done, the standard crew was still about a hundred. The ship had been upgraded, refitted, and then phased out of service for the Republic Navy in that 300 years. Newer ships had taken the Foray’s place as a blockade runner and escort, but the design was sound and hulls were available, hence the fact that Special Branch used them extensively.

 

Unfortunately for this crew, Sharlina knew this ship design well. She had spent time aboard the Dia’s Gift, an almost exact copy of this ship. Her first stop had been the armory. The two soldiers on duty there hadn’t even had a chance to scream as she had blurred in at Force speeds. She had scrambled the controls, sealed the munitions and weapons lockers and then started off to do her dirty work. The bridge had been her next stop. By then, the crew had known that something was wrong, but hadn’t really had a clue how to deal with it. If they had, say, depressurized a section of the ship, that would have killed her. Maybe. They would drop a bulkhead and she would tear it out of its tracks. Or slam it back with enough Force to bend the bulkheads around it. They would activate an internal security blaster turret and she would either deflect the bolts back at it, or bend the guns until they broke off and then hit the turret with them until it exploded. They learned early on not to send troops against her. Sharlina was not subtle in any way, shape or form. It was simple to follow her path, all one had to do was follow the trail of broken and dismembered bodies.

 

Finally, it was done. No more of the foul feeling senses in Ashla that were the crew pervaded the ship. Sharlina stood and stared at the last corpse as it fell from her sword to land on the floor. The woman had been unarmed, having thrown her blaster away when Sharlina had appeared. She had been begging, pleading for her life. Istara might have been moved by pity, but Sharlina was not. She heard something and spun in place, her sword ready, but then she froze as a small form stepped out of a nearby alcove.

 

“Are you going to kill me too?” The little boy asked in a quiet voice. He had black hair and his eyes were deep piercing green. He could not have been over eight years old. He wore an odd looking white one piece shipsuit. He was calm, there was no fear in him, despite the fact that Sharlina was absolutely covered in blood and more horrible things.

 

"Kill you, child?" Sharlina looked at him, her rage finally sated. “Are you my enemy?” She asked quietly as she shook her blade to clean it and then sheathed it.

 

The little boy shook his head. “I don’t know. I… They never spoke of this. They never said what to do if someone other than one of them is here. I have no orders. I don’t know what to do.” He sounded so lost and alone.

 

"I see." Sharlina sighed and squatted down on her heels, so she was at eye level with the little boy. Not that he was one, He was a clone. A copy of Will Kalenath, or Sara Kalenath. Not that it really mattered which one, both were very dangerous beings. “Did they give you a name, or just a designation?”

 

The boy stared at her, uncertain. “I… They called me B-97. I… We…” He slumped. “We don’t know what to do.”

 

Sharlina smiled gently. “How many of you are there?” She asked as she checked the corpse at her feet. The woman was a medic, but, seeing as how she had been armed, not a non-combatant. Not that Sharlina would have hesitated for a second anyway. Anyone affiliated with Special Branch had earned her ire many times over.

 

The boy looked at her, unsure. “Eight, but C-16 is… She is hurt and…We…” He blinked and then he straightened. “We protect the Republic…”

 

Sharlina blinked and then she nodded. She had spoken with Sara a few times, she knew what to say. “I am not an enemy of the Republic, child. I am an enemy of Special Branch, the people who did this to you. But I am not an enemy of the Republic.”

 

B-97 stared at her for a moment and then sighed. “Agnosa says you are not an enemy. I guess… I believe her. She has never lied to us. Like they did…She never hurt us… Like that one did.” His eyes were on the corpse at Sharlina’s feet.

 

Agnosa?" Sharlina blinked, confused. “Who is Agnosa?”

 

B-97 slumped a bit. “She says… She says to bring you to her… She says it will be clear when you see her.”

 

Sharlina shrugged. She really didn’t have anything better to do. “Lead on.”

 

The little boy led her through the innards of the ship. Every so often, they passed a gory spot. Sharlina had used Ashla to track the crew members, both by the foul stench that she sensed from them, and from their fear and terror. Even if they had been prepared, they wouldn’t have had a chance against her. As mad as she had been, nothing besides a Sith Lord or Master Jedi would have been able to stand against her. And none of those had been in attendance, so it had been a bloody slaughter.

 

As they walked other small forms in white jumpsuits joined them. Sharlina could feel the confusion in the odd forms around her, but none were hostile. B-97 led her back to the place where her slaughter had started. To her surprise, Con was still alive. Somehow, he had managed to stem the flow of blood from his severed hands and clamp the stumps over the gaping wound in his belly. He glared at her, his eyes wide with hate and shock as life flowed slowly from his body. Sharlina glanced at him and then ignored him, he was beneath contempt.

 

Her eyes were drawn to an odd looking machine set to the side of the bay. It was right beside the gurney she had been on when all this started. It was large, bulky and… She blinked and her breath whooshed out in a solid stream as the machine turned and the head of a Sitolon became visible in an odd tank. But it was obviously alive! The bug’s head was connected to machinery, obviously life supporting in nature. The Sitolon had no body below the neck.

 

Sharlina felt faint. “My god… What did they do to you, sister?”

 

The voice of the being who had helped her spoke from a speaker. “I am not your sister, Istara Sharlina Andal. I am… I am fallen. I am evil… I have done such horrible things. I hurt you, before, and now…I am… My name was Kioluntutrebedthewsyiunberbvegteyubegertsefrerdeewfevjytersounhradagnosa. But you may call me Agnosa as the children do.”

 

Sharlina stared at the head. The six eyes met her two dispassionately. Sitolon gained syllables to their names as they molted, and as they molted about once every fifty years… Thirty three or thirty four moltings… This being was well over a thousand years old. “What happened to you?” She asked in a horrified tone.

 

The being in the tank sighed. “What you see before you is my own folly. I did this to myself. I sought a means of living past my normal span. Our bodies have an allotted time, everything mortal does. In my arrogance, I attempted to extend that time. I used biotech, cybernetics, anything could beg, borrow or steal. I sought different methods, different ways to live. I did not want to die, and instead, I found my own personal hell.”

 

Sharlina stared as the children all sat down in front of the machine, as if they were school children. “What do you mean?” Sharlina asked carefully.

 

Agnosa made a pained sound. “I made deals with beings from many races, to acquire technology to extend my life. Eventually I found a way to connect my mind directly to a computer system. And that was my downfall. The being who sold me that information used that computer to take control of me. It has taken me over six hundred years of careful manipulation to get the freedom I have. I can turn my head and I have partial control over the mechanical monstrosity that I am encased in now. That is all I can do.”

 

"I don't..." Sharlina shook her head slowly. “I remember you… Your voice… But I cannot remember from where.”

 

Agnosa sounded as if she was almost in tears. “I didn’t want to. Con brought you to me. Amirg had nearly killed you with his mental butchery. You were so strong and so hurt… I had to help you. I didn’t know what he was going to make me do. I tried, Istara Sharlina Andal, I tried not to do it, but once those nanites got into my systems I couldn’t disobey. I wanted to help, and before I knew it, he had me programming you. I… This is my fault. End me.” The last two words were flat.

 

Sharlina stared at the machine and then she froze as one of the children jumped up, ran up to the machine and threw her arms around it, crying. The little girl was the one that Con had threatened. She could not have been over ten years old. “No, Mama! No! Don’t go!”

 

Agnosa’s voice was gentle, but adamant. “E-5… We have spoken of this. Please… Let Sharlina do what she must, vengeance must be served. For her, and for all the other people that I have hurt over the centuries, both before and after I became… this…”

 

Sharlina stood stock still for a moment and then shook her head. “No.”

 

Agnosa’s voice took on a pleading aspect. “Istara Sharlina Andal, please… I cannot be certain that all the controls in me are gone. I could turn on you at any moment. Please… Don’t let me hurt my children… Again… I will beg if I must…”

 

"What you have said does not equate with what is known." Sharlina shook her head again, but when she spoke, her voice was kind. “Agnosa, the others remember you as a healer of great skill, a compassionate and generous being. From what I see here, you did the best you could for these poor abused children. Agnosa… How long have you been a slave?”

 

Agnosa’s voice was flat now. “Seven hundred years.”

 

Sharlina’s voice was kind and gentle now. “You disappeared a thousand years ago, Agnosa. You didn’t do things like this to extend your life, did you?” She waved a hand at the machinery around her.

 

Agnosa’s voice was soft, disbelieving. “Sharlina…I …. I am evil… I have done such awful things…”

 

Sharlina sighed. “And I haven’t?” She asked quietly. “Agnosa, you are not evil. You have been programmed, just as I was. You memories likely have been altered, like mine were.”

 

"Altered?" Agnosa made a soft noise of disbelief. “How… No… wait… I… How can you know this?”

 

"Easy." Sharlina smiled gently and squatted on her heels. “Agnosa, we knew that Special Branch would activate the commands. We also knew that the commands were specific to Istara.” Her grin was vicious.

 

"What?" Agnosa’s voice was hushed now, awed. “You… let yourself be taken under control? Why?”

 

"Agnosa." Sharlina shrugged but her tone was still that gentle touch. “We had no idea you were alive, Agnosa. Firdlump is very good at hiding what he is and what he does. We had to know what he was planning for me, what he was doing. We needed to know. I knew that sooner or later they would put me in a position that I could take advantage of. But when they threatened the child, I had to act. I was the perfect bait. What do they want more than one of the Seven?”

 

"What?" Agnosa’s voice was strained now. ‘You… You are in communication with… with my people?”

 

Sharlina smiled tenderly. “Yes, sister. It is time you, and all of your brood here...” She held out her arms and after a moment the children swarmed into them. She embraced them all. “…came home.”

[kalenath]

Of course, it wasn’t that easy. Istara was still unable to talk. Sharlina could not fly, she had never learned how. The Bladeborn, after a few expensive attempts, had stopped trying to teach her. Sharlina had apparently worked very hard to forget those painful memories. So… That left Sharlina who could not fly, with Agnosa who was stuck in the medical bay, and seven hale kids who had training in flight, but no experience, to try and figure out how a capital class starship worked. Sharlina knew they were not actually children, but every instinct she had was screaming that they were.

 

She was sitting with Agnosa, trying to figure out how to tell the Sitolon where they were through the whisper thin link that was still active when B-97 came in. The children had scattered through the ship to make sure it was still functional and would remain so, they were trained for that. The boy’s green eyes were worried.

 

“J-6 managed to get the sensors working.” He stated calmly. “There is a ship approaching.”

 

"A ship?" Sharlina jumped to her feet. “Can you tell whose ship it is?” The last thing she wanted was another fight with children around. If they could ambush the boarders…

 

"No." B-97 shook his head. “I don’t think it is a Republic ship. It’s not the usual supply ship.”

 

Sharlian shook her head. “Show me.” She started toward the hatch to go to the bridge, but B-97 shook his head. The boy walked to a terminal nearby and touched it. It came alive and Sharlina forced herself not to jump. Will doing that was bad enough, he was creepy. But KIDS doing that really bothered her. She knew what it cost Will to do that, the neural damage… Her brain clicked as she looked at the ship. “Imperial.” She said flatly. “Transport. Probably a troopship…”

 

Imperial transports could carry up to a company of armored troops and deeply them in combat zones. They were heavily armed and shielded to allow for deployment in heavy fire situations.

 

"Oh no." Agnosa made a sound of dismay. “We cannot fight a boarding. If they get aboard, we are lost. Leave me. Save yourselves.”

 

Sharlina shook her head. “No, sister Agnosa. We are not going to abandon you. If they are Imperials, I have some authority. I f not, we will just have to argue with them. Where are they looking to land?” She asked the boy and B-97 looked at her.

 

“They are heading for the hangar bay.” He paused as Sharlina nodded.

 

"Right." The Bladeborn’s voice voice brooked no argument. “I will meet them there. Alone.”

 

***

 

Sharlina stood alone in the middle of the hangar bay as the transport landed. She half expected the guns to open fire as it landed, but neither of the turrets swiveled to track her. Something about the ship felt familiar, but she was unsure what it was. She was ready to dive for cover, and her hand was on her sword hilt as the ship settled into place. She hadn’t bothered to clean her armor and she was sure she stank to high heaven, but couldn’t have cared less as she waited to see what would come out of the ship.

 

But no matter what she might have expected, there was no way in the galaxy she could have expected the voice that called to her. “Hey, Sharlina… looks like we missed the fun.”

 

Sharlina’s hand fell from her sword and her mouth fell open as a female form wearing armor came down the troop ramp of the ship. Maria Kalenath hefted a light repeater, but it was at high port and her head was unarmored. The grin she wore was wide as she noted the Bladeborn’s expression. “Looks like I get to save you this time, huh?”

 

“Maria…?” Sharlina asked in a dumbfounded voice. Last she had known, Maria had been posted with the sect of Bladeborn run by… She froze as a black robed form followed Maria down the ramp and her hand jumped back to her sword hilt. Another form followed him and others behind that furred form. Reekia, former Masterblade of Trugoy’s Bladeborn gave Sharlina a nod. But all of Sharlina’s focus was on the man who was stopping a step behind Maria now. Or the thing that looked like human male.

 

Bob, master of a number of very bad people, shook his head slowly. “Istara Sharlina Andal, I am not your enemy. We are not your enemies. We are here to help.”

 

"Right." Sharlina snarled at him, her hand not leaving her blade. “And you were just ‘in the area’ I assume?” She asked scornfully.

 

"No." Bob shook his head. “We came as soon as we could, Istara Sharlina Andal. Reekia and Maria managed to track you with help from the Sitolon. We understand you have injured…” He froze as Sharlina’s blade left it’s sheathe. He didn’t move.

 

Sharlina did not take her eyes from Bob, but her voice was aimed at Maria. “Explain.” She said flatly.

 

Maria sighed deeply and then she lowered her weapon. “I warned you.” She said to Bob. “Sharlina, please… You know me. Scan me, with the Force, or Ashla, or whatever you use now. See if I am being controlled.”

 

Bob didn’t move. Sharlina looked from Maria to Reekia who hadn’t moved either. The Wookiee Masterblade and Sharlina had an…interesting history. Reekia had been in charge of the prison where Sharlina had been imprisoned and tortured for almost half a year for doing the right thing. The wookiee hadn’t known all of what the warden had done to Sharlina, that was obvious. But Sharlina could neither forgive nor forget that the Wookiee had placed Sharlina’s loyal crew in the tender care of a man who had burned them all alive.

 

Another voice broke the tableau that had formed. “Sister Sharlina, please… let us help…please?” A small silver skinned Sitolon came down the ramp of the ship and stood beside Maria. Well, the bug was small for a Sitolon, she was still big.

 

Sharlina shook her head slowly. “Who are you? I don’t know you.”

 

"No you don't." The Sitolon bowed slightly. “I am Kicota, Istara Sharlina Andal. We met before, but I was Cota then.”

 

"Oh?" Sharlina stared at the insect and then nodded with a smile. “You molted. The silver looks good on you. Much better than the black.”

 

The bug preened. “You think so? I am not sure… the black was a bit on the glossy side at times and I preferred…” She broke off as Maria coughed. “Oh… sorry, I prattle.” The insect being took a slow step forward. “Sister Sharlina,

we can help. We wish to help. Will you let us?”

 

Sharlina shook herself and then she held out a slow hand. The bug lowered her antenna to touch Sharlina’s hand. A flurry of communication passed between the two in the blink of an eye, then Sharlina nodded slowly. “We have a wounded child. And Agnosa… Can you do anything?”

 

Bob looked her in the eye and spoke softly. “I don’t know, but you have my word we will try.”

[kalenath]

Sharlina watched carefully as the large bug that called herself Kicota and the black robed form of Maria’s husband Samuel worked on the semi-conscious form of the girl who Con had threatened. She wasn’t sure she trusted them, even with Kicota’s bona fides given to her from the Sitolon. Agnosa was watching as well, from her mechanical perch.

 

Finally, Samuel stepped back and there was a smile on his face. “The girl will be fine, provided we can get her to Nolikas and get those nasty implants out of her brain.” The sheer hate in his tone would have done Sharlina herself proud. “The rest…? We will have to see.”

 

"Oh no." Maria was standing where she had the whole time, out of the way, but where she could see everything. Her voice was sick. “They destroyed that poor girl’s immune system, didn’t they?”

 

Samuel bowed his head. “Yes. They did the same thing on all the kids. We can handle it, I know what Nolikas did. I think I can synthesize the materials she used. If not, we can put them in stasis and get them to her. They will be fine.” Maria stepped forward and embraced her husband.

 

Sharlina felt a great weight pass from her shoulders at the healer’s quiet words. She had been very worried about the kids. She smiled as she remembered Nolikas, the Rakatan Jedi healer who had not trusted her at all at first while Istara had been on Tython. But eventually, the two women had come to respect each other. Perhaps not trust, but respect. Sharlina had to respect Nolikas’ skill after the damage that she knew both Will and Sara had taken. Neither showed any sign of impairment now.

 

Kicota stepped from the girl’s bed to where Agnosa was watching. Her face was as impassive as any Sitolon, but her sense in Ashla was horrified. “Oh sister… What can I do?” She asked quietly.

 

"Nothing." Agnosa sighed quietly, her speech coming from the artificial voice box that served as her vocal apparatus. Her head was all that was left of her body. “There is nothing you can do, young queen. Thank you for your concern, but I outlived my time long ago. I should have died so on ago… Sharlina says I am not to blame, that my memories are fractured, false… I don’t know…”

 

Bob spoke up from where he stood near the door. He hadn’t moved since he had entered. Probably because Sharlina had her hand on her sword hilt the whole time. His voice was soft. “I can help you remember.”

 

"Help?" Agnosa turned her head in its tank to look at him and her voice was perplexed. “What are you? You are not human.” The eyes of the head narrowed and then everything stopped as she screamed. “No! Get back! Stay away from me!”

 

Sharlina had her blade out, for all the good it would do her, but Bob hadn’t moved. Sharlina’s voice was confused. “Agnosa, what? What is wrong?”

 

Agnosa seemed on the verge of a seizure, her mouth worked in the tank and her eyes were rolling in terror. “He is… He is… No!” She screamed again and then slumped. Sharlina jumped towards the tank but Kicota was there. The bug was working controls feverishly, and Sharlina could only watch helpless to help or hinder as the bug snarled obscenities in an obscure dialect. Finally the Sitolon head in the tank relaxed.

 

"What...the...?" Kicota slumped back, her posture showed confusion. “ She is asleep. She was terrified. Why would she react that way?” She looked at Bob who shrugged.

 

“You know what I am.” Bob said quietly. “Tell me I am not frightening, Kicota.”

 

Sharlina shook her head. “There was more. Wait… This ship is new, the experiments on this ship were new. The leaders have been here. Morey, that doc that some call Menglan and another…” Sharlina looked from Agnosa’s tank to Bob. “Is one of them like you?” Bob slumped and Sharlina nodded slowly. “One is, isn’t he? Firdlump himself?”

 

"Yes." Bob nodded slowly. “I have been trying to find a way to get at him without causing massive collateral damage for decades. If I do I will destroy him.” There was no bravado in his words. “But for now, Sharlina… It is time to free Istara.”

 

Sharlina stared at him for a moment and then shook her head slowly. He was right. There was an empty bed nearby. She lay down on it, her sword in its sheathe in hand. Kicota came close and the bugs voice was gentle. “Are you all right Sharlina?”

 

"Me?" Sharlina smiled at the young queen. “Yes. I have had some good stress relief therapy. But… I...” She slumped and closed her eyes. “Do what you have to.”

 

Maria came close and laid her hand on Sharlina’s. “You will always be my hero, Sharlina.”

 

Sharlina smiled at her and then the Bladeborn’s eyes shot open. Now they were no longer red. They were brown and concerned. “Maria…?”

 

"Ah." Maria smiled. “Hello Istara. How do you feel?”

 

Istara sat up and her hands took both of Maria’s in gentle grips. “Maria… Oh my god…No…” Everyone stared as tears started falling from Istara’s eyes.

 

"Isatra..." All eyes were on Maria as she sighed and embraced the Bladeborn. “It’s okay, Istara. It’s okay.”

 

Istara shook her head savagely and then her head pillowed on Maria’s shoulder. “No, it’s not! After everything you have done, all you have endured. No, it is not okay!”

 

Bob stared from Istara to Maria. “What is going on?” He looked around, but neither Samuel nor Kicota would meet his eyes. “What?” He asked in a colder tone.

 

"I..." Maria did not let the sobbing Bladeborn go. “Yesterday evening Kicota and Samuel found something when they scanned me. I guess Istara picked it up to.”

 

Bob stared at her. “Maria…?” His voice was worried now. “What is it?”

 

"I am dying." Maria sighed as she stroked Istara’s hair. “I have a tumor in my brain. It is big, it is growing and it is inoperable.” At her calm words all noise in the bay ceased. “It’s my time…”

 

"No. No I will not accept that." Istara shook her head again and embraced Maria again. “We will find a cure, Maria. We have found others. We will find a way…”

 

"Istara..." Samuel sighed. “We have been trying, Istara. She won’t let us.”

 

Istara held Maria out at arm’s length. “Maria…?”

 

Maria met the Bladeborn’s gaze with her unyielding one. “No one messes with my head.”

 

"No..." Istara was shaking her head in horror. “Maria… Please…”

 

Maria hugged Istara again, and then left the room in silence, leaving all four of the others to stare at each other. Istara finally spoke softly. “This is a problem…”

 

"You said it." Bob spoke just as quietly. “Yes it is. I might be able to…” He broke off as Samuel and Kicota both glared at him. “I might be able to save her.” He said quickly.

 

Samuel shook his head. “By violating her trust? Do you want everyone around you to die? You may be immortal, we are not. You violate her trust, even to save her life and I can guarantee that lots of bodies will result. Istara may be able to convince her, but… I doubt it. Maria is nothing if not stubborn.”

 

Istara shook her head as she rose from the bed. “This is going to be a big mess, isn’t it?”

 

"Ya think?" Samuel snorted. “Will, Sara, Sarai, the Mandalorians, Cranna, this Shades person, and lots of other people will react badly.” He looked at Bob who slumped. “What is they bidding, my master?” He asked in a tone that was one step removed from disrespectful.

 

“Can it Samuel.” Bob’s voice was tart. Then he sighed. “We will arrive at my base in twelve hours, Istara Sharlina Andal. Please, if you can, talk to her. We can’t lose her.”

 

"Look." Istara shook her head. “I won’t do anything against her will. And right now I have to stay here.” Her tone brooked no argument. The other three looked at each other, nodded and left the room. Istara was left to her thoughts, which were dark and sad.