A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars

  74

  Philaxia. 36 BBY/964 GSC.

  Bo-Katan watched the screens as she brought her ship in for a landing in Philaxia’s capital. Rain streaked the canopy as she descended through the cloud layer and the city spread out beneath her, all neon ads and the lights from air traffic.

  It was nothing new. Seen one city, seen them all. She didn’t know its name. Didn’t care to know. They wouldn’t be here long. Just long enough to refuel and resupply.

  This is my life now, she mused, as she heard laughter from somewhere behind her—the rest of her four person squad laughing at some joke or another. Maybe even at her expense. She didn’t care.

  They weren’t her friends. They didn’t even respect her. She was just their pilot, as far as they were concerned. Their pilot, and a potential liability.

  Shaking those thoughts from her head, she engaged the landing gear and brought the ship in, touching down on the spaceport’s duracrete floor. Droids immediately swarmed the ship, connecting hoses here and there to pump fuel and water in and waste out. She shut off the engines and stood, moving towards the rear of the ship, intending to crash and get some shuteye.

  As she passed Wesin, their squad leader, the man nodded towards the hatch. “We’re finding a cantina to go get shitfaced and find some trouble. Come on.”

  Bo considered it for a moment, before nodding. She grabbed her helmet off the rack and pulled it on as they trooped out into the rain and she locked up behind them. She kept quiet as the others talked and laughed, following the signs until they spotted the neon lit exterior of a cantina around a corner.

  “Hey, look at that,” Wesin pointed towards where three other Mandos were entering the cantina—an adult and either two children or two very short aliens by the look of it. Their armor was dark and the three of them wore cloaks. Something about them made her want to turn around and go right back to the ship, but she kept quiet as the others picked up the pace. “Maybe we’ll be able to pick up some new recruits. Bo, I’ll leave that to you.”

  She didn’t bother hiding her sigh. “Fine.”

  They entered the cantina and a hush fell over the place as everyone looked up and spotted them. The waitress serving the group of three looked like she was one wrong move away from bolting and hiding in the back.

  “What can I get for you?”

  “Pitcher of whatever’s on tap for the table,” Wesin answered, as he decided to sit down at a table near the other Mandos. He looked to her and nodded towards the other table.

  Bo-Katan sighed, before making her way over. She hadn’t wanted to be dragged into either a recruiting pitch or a potential fight with these people, but it looked like she wasn’t being given much of a choice. As she approached, the two foundlings tensed, unsubtly watching her and her group as their hands drifted out of sight—likely towards weapons. She held in a chuckle at that, an amused smile pulling at her lips.

  Good instincts, she mused as she stopped at the fourth place at the table, directly across from the older Mandalorian woman. Resting her arms on the back of the chair between the two kids, she asked, “So, what’s the occasion?”

  Across from her, the woman in black armor shifted in her seat, making herself more comfortable. Unlike the two kids, her body language looked relaxed. A bit too relaxed, really. Either she was the most trusting idiot in the universe, or she knew she was the most dangerous person in the room. “Their first kills,” the woman answered. Her voice was muffled and a bit distorted by the relay of the helmet, but it sounded young. Younger than Bo, anyway.

  First kills? At that age? That’s damn good.

  She chuckled. “That’s one to remember. Mind if I sit?” she asked, and the woman across from her thought about it for just a moment, before gesturing towards the chair Bo was leaning on. Bo spun it around and straddled it, eyeing the woman across from her and the kids. They bore no clan markings or personal identifiers. Given the armor and the cloaks, Bo suspected they might not want anyone knowing exactly who they were. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to ask, so she did. “What clan are you with?”

  The other woman’s answer pretty much confirmed what she suspected. “Can’t say. We’re not actually here, if you know what I mean. As soon as we finish here, we’re leaving the planet.”

  Bo nodded. “Ah. Black ops stuff.” Wesin coughed from where he sat and she could feel the others’ eyes on her.

  Time to get to work, Bo sighed, then started her pitch. “Right, anyway. So listen. Things are starting to get… hairy.” Bad. They were starting to get real bad. All signs pointed towards war.

  “Trade Federation is making moves.” If you called blockading planets on major hyperspace lanes just ‘making moves.’ Some of those blockades were starting to demand ‘tolls’ from ships they forced out of hyperspace in order to pass by safely, claiming the lanes they controlled were now ‘toll lanes.’

  “There’s talk that a bunch of planets in the Outer Rim may secede.” It wasn’t just talk. She’d heard from sources inside her sister’s camp that they were weeks away at most.

  “We’re all Mandalorians. We all follow the Code. But we’re out in the shit, not sitting on our asses on Mandalore, sipping wine and going to parties or whatever they’re doing now.” Preparing for war. Her peace-loving, pacifist sister was building a big fuckoff fleet, had made friends with the only other legitimate Mando faction, and had joined up with a Master Jedi whose reputation alone made most sane people think twice, then decide it wasn’t worth it.

  “We’re the real Mandalorians. We should stick together.” Why were they even bothering? Death Watch was a joke now, after Tor’s death in single combat at the hands of a little girl—not even a proper Jedi, just one of their younglings. Satine and Jaster Mereel had united the other clans under their banner and hitched their wagon behind Dooku. They were planning to break off and form their own faction, which would pretty much guarantee a response from the Republic—and that really should satisfy the more fight happy Mandos out there.

  The waitress returned with their drinks, then hurried off, not even bothering to hide that she was pretty much expecting a blaster fight to start up at any moment. Across from her, the black-clad Mando woman took the bottle and began pouring glasses. She slid one each to the girls in her charge, then the third to Bo. “I’m listening. What did you say your name was?”

  “Sorry.” A quiet chuckle escaped her as Bo realized she had forgotten her manners. She pulled off her helmet and put it on the table in front of her. “Bo-Katan Kryze. And you are?” she asked, as she lifted her glass to take a sip.

  Something changed then, and the hairs on the back of Bo’s neck stood on end. There was a sudden charge in the air. Anticipation. Those last few moments before a big lightning storm hit. No one had said or done anything to set her off, but suddenly, it felt like she was in incredible danger. Like the worst day of her life all over again…

  “Heh.”

  A quiet laugh escaped the woman across from her and she noticed the children tense. She could feel the other Death Watch members at the nearby table tense as well.

  Reaching up, the other woman unsealed her helmet and pulled it up, white hair spilling out from the bottom, drawing Bo’s eye.

  Nooo!

  As the skin of the other woman’s neck and lower jaw was revealed, bright red, Bo’s mouth went dry.

  No, no, no!

  The helmet came the rest of the way off, revealing a familiar pair of silver-blue eyes.

  Fuuuck!

  The—beautiful, [EDIT]—young woman across from her smiled and Bo’s ass puckered, as her cheek itched. The Zeltron was all grown up now. Wires crossed somewhere in Bo’s brain as she couldn’t decide whether the woman across from her was a [EDIT] or a living nightmare.

  “That’s right, we skipped the introductions last time we met, didn’t we?” Those eyes flicked over to the other members of Bo’s team, before returning to her. “It’s Tanya.”

  A quiet sound she would later deny making if asked escaped Bo’s lips. Finally, her hand shaking, she lifted the glass the rest of the way to her lips and hammered it back, before reaching and taking the bottle to pour herself another.

  “I’m not drunk enough to deal with you,” the words escaped before Bo could contain them.

  Across from her, the Jedi Mandalorian chuckled quietly, before nodding at the bottle as she picked up her own glass and took a sip. “By all means. Help yourself.”

  “You know this woman, Bo?” Wesin asked, as the group at the other table began to relax somewhat, seeing that hostilities hadn’t immediately broken out.

  Across from her, Tanya raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a different smile behind her glass as she waited to see what Bo would say. After a moment of thought, the redhead nodded. “We’ve met.”

  “That should make this simple then. You should join Death Watch,” Wesin directed at the Zeltron.

  No! You idiot! You’re going to piss her off! Fuck!

  Those sharp eyes turned towards the man as she studied him for a moment. “Why should we? What benefit is there for me and those in my care?”

  “All the fighting you could want and all the loot you can carry. Minus a cut for the clan, of course.”

  Okay. Okay! Think, Bo! So the Jedi’s a Mando now. Someone had to have taken her in. Given who she is, it was probably either Mereel himself or Satine. Maybe Jango. She knew Satine when I met her.

  “Mm.” Tanya considered for a moment. “Saying it like that makes you sound like a pirate.”

  There was something in the way Tanya said that word. There was no venom in it, but it was said with the same sort of emphasis one would use when talking about a rat infestation. Obviously, she had a dislike of pirates. And given her past experience with Death Watch, connecting those two by association seemed like a recipe for imminent violence.

  But is that a bad thing? Bo wondered. I wanted out. I want to go home.

  Wesin bristled, jaw clenching in anger as he sat up straighter. “We’re not pirates. We’re Mandalorians. Where’s your pride, huh? We used to be kings! We took what we wanted, when we wanted. It’s time we went back to that. And we’re going to. Once this coming war kicks off, everyone’s going to be too busy fighting each other or keeping their heads down to stop us. You should join the winning side now, while there’s still a choice.”

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  A choice. Right. I get to choose between the psycho murderer who might kill me, and the hardcore Death Watch cultists who will kill me if I stop being useful. Some choice.

  The woman across from her nodded slowly, putting her glass down. Her eyes cut back to Bo and she raised an eyebrow. There was a question there, as she waited for a response from Bo.

  Taking a breath, Bo swallowed and made her decision. Knocking back the rest of her drink, she held her off hand to her chest, out of line of sight of the other table, and signaled two simple words. ‘Prisoner. Help.’

  That smile came back and the pucker factor increased. Thankfully, it seemed this time the crazy wasn’t pointed her way as the red woman turned an amused look on Bo’s hopefully soon to be former team. “And what happens if I say ‘no?’”

  Wesin reached down and thumbed the switch on his blaster, the whine of it filling the sudden silence. “We’ve got room for a couple of foundlings.”

  “Allaya, Asajj. Go get the ship warmed up,” Tanya ordered quietly.

  Wesin looked to the other two Mandos at their table and the pair stood, hands resting on their blasters. He turned back to Tanya. “Sorry. Can’t let you do that. They’ll stay right here.”

  Tanya shook her head, standing. The two Mandos already up drew their blasters. “Let’s… go for a walk~.”

  There was something in her voice, the sort of command that had Bo straightening up and on her feet a moment later. Wesin frowned, even as he stood and followed. The two children came last, following behind Bo-Katan. As soon as she was outside, Bo turned and grabbed the two girls and pulled them with her as she moved left, off to the side and out of the line of fire. Her heart pounded in her chest as she got ready to run again, in case Tanya decided she was going to finish what she started the last time they’d fought.

  The red woman stopped in the middle of the street. She took a moment to roll her head, popping her neck as she stretched. Finally, she turned around. Wesin and the other two didn’t wait. They opened fire—yellow blaster bolts streaking in towards the woman.

  Tanya moved.

  A step to the left, out of the path of the first. Right, weaving around the second. Turned to the side, letting the third and fourth pass by on either side of her—close enough that they burned holes in her cloak. Slid forward, ducking under two more bolts as she closed to within just a few feet.

  Wesin and his two cronies were starting to panic now, as they fired wildly and began to back away. But it was too late.

  Tanya closed into CQC range with the slowest of the three, the big guy, Ormir. Her hands swept out, the right catching the wrist holding his blaster. The other caught his elbow. She pulled with the left arm and pushed with the right, folding the arm in and twisting it up…

  It was over in a flash, as Tanya planted the blaster pistol under the bottom of Ormir’s helmet, her hand on his forcing him to squeeze the trigger himself. The helmet blasted off his head with a hollow, gong-like sound and a splatter of gore. The big man’s body hit the ground.

  “You bitch!!!” Cena, the other woman on their team, screamed and charged, throwing down her blaster in favor of pulling a vibro blade.

  “Cena wait—!” Wesin yelled, but it was too late.

  The Jedi didn’t bother with a knife fight. Tanya drew a blaster pistol from her hip—some big fucking hand cannon. She fired once, from the hip and a white-silver bolt flashed between her and Cena. Bo thought for sure she’d miss, or she’d hit beskar. That there was no way she could make the shot.

  Cena’s neck exploded in a shower of gore as her head popped off and went flying, her body falling to the ground just in front of Tanya as the Zeltron woman holstered the pistol. Wesin flinched as he began looking for somewhere to run.

  Tanya’s eyes flicked over towards Bo—no, not to Bo, to the two girls. They pulled away from her, drawing vibro blades as they rushed Wesin from behind, their steps entirely too quiet for Bo’s peace of mind as they closed the distance.

  Wesin never saw it coming as they struck at the gaps in his armor. One blade to the back of the knees putting him on the ground. Another shoved up under the armor and getting something important as he began to bleed profusely. Then a final cut across his throat that silenced that scream on his lips and turned it into a gurgle.

  Bo winced as the girls turned towards her and advanced, holding her hands up. Thankfully, Tanya called them off a moment later. “Girls, we’re done here. Strip their armor and weapons and let’s go.” Meeting Bo’s eyes, she continued, “As for you, you’re coming with me. I’m taking you to see your sister.”

  “Sure,” Bo agreed easily as Tanya approached and began stripping her weapons off of her.

  She watched the children loot the corpses of her former teammates, piling their things up before dragging it all off towards the spaceport. There was too much for the children alone, so Bo was made to carry the last load herself. She didn’t mind, if it meant getting off this planet, getting away from the Death Watch, and not having to fight Tanya again.

  Tanya led them to a small luxury yacht and Bo followed them inside, only to frown at what she saw as the interior definitely didn’t match the exterior. She followed the two girls belowdecks and dropped off the load of armor, before making her way back up.

  “You’re up front with me,” Tanya motioned for her to follow and Bo joined her, strapping into the co-pilot’s seat as the girls strapped in behind them. “How many more of you are there in the system?”

  “Just one other cell,” Bo answered. “They’re in orbit, using the long range sensors to keep an eye out for trouble.”

  At that, Tanya grinned. “Excellent~. Girls, we’re going hunting!”

  The ship shuddered under them as it lifted off and Tanya accelerated, nosing it up to a seventy degree angle. The ship accelerated a lot faster than any luxury yacht, Bo noticed, and a glance back at the two girls let her see that they had activated weapons consoles.

  “What the hell is this thing?” Bo wondered aloud as they left atmosphere and Tanya began checking the other ships in orbit.

  “Which one belongs to your friends?” the Zeltron woman asked, ignoring the question.

  Bo pointed them out and Tanya put them on course to pass by—making it look like they were simply making an exo-atmospheric flight to cover distance as she slipped in behind them. She pulled up, sending them blasting past the Death Watch ship. Bo felt a faint shudder as the ship fired—ion and blaster shots streaking out to hit the enemy ship. The Death Watch ship disappeared in a fireball as Tanya adjusted their course towards the smallest of the planet’s moons.

  “Redoubt, this is the Rusted Silver. We’re coming in. Lock in a course for Rekkiad and jump to hyperspace as soon as we’re onboard.”

  “Roger that, Silver. We’re coming around to pick you up,” came the reply.

  Out ahead of them, Bo spotted a spec of something gleaming in the light of the system’s star as it came around from the dark side of the moon. As they neared, she got her first good look at what must be one of Satine’s ships. It was long and very ‘Mando’ in design. It was covered in cannons and missile emplacements, and in the nose were four very large round hatches covering what were likely equally large barrels for some massive weapon.

  “So that’s what my sister has been working on,” Bo murmured as they quickly closed with the ship and she got a look at the starboard fighter bay as Tanya flew them into it and quickly landed. They had barely touched down before Bo felt the jump to hyperspace.

  “Yes,” the Zeltron woman answered absently as she unstrapped and stood. She motioned for the two girls to leave, and they hurried out of the cockpit, exiting the ship. Looking down to Bo, Tanya ordered, “Strip.”

  Bo raised an eyebrow. Her mouth ran off ahead of her brain as, for a moment, she forgot who she was talking to. “So you really are a Zeltron.”

  Tanya rolled her eyes. “Out of your armor. You’re not going in the brig carrying weapons.”

  “I came along voluntarily. Do I have to go in the brig?” Bo asked. To her surprise, Tanya actually considered it for a few moments.

  Finally, the younger girl nodded. “Yes. For now. I’ll need to speak with the captain, and your sister. We’ve got a few places to go before we return to Mandalore, so I imagine you’ll be with us for a while. I can’t promise anything, but good behavior would go a long way towards improving things for you.” With that, Tanya reached out and flipped a switch on the console. A moment later, someone picked up the comm on the other side. “This is Mereel. Send a security detachment to the hangar to escort a prisoner to the brig.”

  Sighing, Bo nodded and began stripping out of her armor, laying it out on the seat until she was left in nothing but a body suit. She held still as Tanya checked her over for weapons and tools, but surprisingly didn’t get particularly invasive with her search—not that it really mattered, since Bo didn’t have anything on her person that would help her escape this situation or otherwise cause problems.

  Finally satisfied, she motioned for Bo to precede her out. Bo left the ship, glancing briefly behind her to make sure her captor was still following, only to blink at the ship she had just left. The luxury yacht was gone—replaced with a large patrol craft very similar to the ones she remembered Tor had gotten his hands on just before the things with the Jedi kicked off and the incident with Tanya.

  Some sort of hologram tech? she wondered as Tanya put a hand on her lower back and pushed her forward, into the waiting arms of a group of six fully armed and armored Mandalorians. One of them held up a set of handcuffs and Bo offered her wrists. They snapped one on, then turned her around and got her arms behind her back.

  “She’s being cooperative, so don’t be rough with her,” Tanya instructed.

  “Aye, colonel,” the squad leader confirmed, before leading Bo away from the hangar and deeper into the ship. She was led through a security checkpoint into a hallway with rooms on either side—small rooms, given how close the doors were. They opened one of the doors, revealing about what Bo had expected.

  The room was covered in padding that hid any electronics connected to the door and would keep a prisoner from bashing their head in against a wall. On one wall were a pair of rectangles folded in—beds that would fold down from the wall, but were made to fold up to make space. In the back corner was a combination toilet, sink, and sonic shower. On the wall opposite the beds, a color holo projection gave away the presence of a holo terminal—she doubted it could make calls, but any entertainment would be welcome. The entire space was just large enough that she could work out if she got bored.

  They undid her cuffs and closed the door behind her, leaving Bo to explore her new accommodations for the time being. Sighing, she made her way over to the holo terminal and began testing it. As she had expected, she could pull up live broadcasts, but couldn’t access anything that would allow her to communicate out. No holonet, no calls. Shrugging, she flipped through the available programs before settling on some period drama.

  Well, it’s better than I was expecting, at least, she mused, folding the bed out and sitting down as she let her mind drift.

  Redoubt, unknown location. 36 BBY/964 GSC.

  Bo panted, her arms shaking as she forced out another push-up. The sound of a mid-day holodrama filled the room as she flopped over onto her back and started working on sit-ups.

  Her days had become a boring but consistent routine. Wake up, warm up exercises while morning news from Mandalore played, a quick shower, eat the breakfast provided, jog the inside of the cell for a few miles, eat lunch, use the padded walls as a punching bag, more jogging, more exercise, more holo dramas, eat supper, more exercise, more holo dramas, sleep. By her count, she had been at it for a bit over two weeks. Long enough that they could be practically anywhere in the galaxy, depending on the class of hyperdrive in this ship.

  She felt the ship drop out of hyperspace and wondered for a moment where they were. This was the second time they had dropped out—the first time being a bit over a week ago, and only for a few hours before taking off again.

  Bo shrugged it off. It didn’t matter. Either they were at Mandalore and she was about to see her sister, or they weren’t and she was stuck in this room for a while longer.

  Hours passed before she felt the transition to hyperspace again, and Bo nodded before turning her attention back to her holo drams. Only, a few minutes in, her newly established routine was interrupted.

  The holo projector shut off and an intercom hidden in the ceiling buzzed to life. “Stand up and put your hands through the slot.”

  Bo raised an eyebrow, but did as she was told. She found herself cuffed again a moment later. “Back away from the door.”

  She did and the door opened, revealing a pair of security officers. They waved her to exit the cell and Bo followed. She didn’t care where they were going at this point, just that she was getting out of the box that was her cell.

  They led her to an elevator that opened out into an upper level, then into a hallway. She raised an eyebrow as she spotted a line of crystals embedded into the ceiling, all glowing different colors.

  The security officers led her to a door near the middle of the level and opened it, revealing a very white room within—an upper level overlooking a training room of some sort, the walls, floors, and ceiling all padded. In the middle of the room, Tanya stood stretching. The red woman wore nothing but a black set of painted on exercise tights and white top that was pretty much just an exercise bra, her hair pulled up into a high ponytail to get it out of the way.

  For a moment, Bo stood frozen, taking in the sight as the Zeltron woman moved, muscles pulling tight beneath her clothes and showing off an amazingly athletic body [EDIT].

  Then, her eyes began focusing on the minute details. The scars that showed up as pale pink or white on her red skin. Fresh cuts that had been sprayed over with bacta sealant, tinged red with blood. As pretty as the package was, this wasn’t the sort of girl she’d find in some cantina on the fringes, selling her services by the hour. Unarmed and practically naked, she was still the most dangerous person on this ship.

  …[EDIT]

  “Remove her restraints and leave us, please,” Tanya ordered, not bothering to turn around as she bent down to grab her ankles.

  One of the two security officers undid her cuffs and the pair left her there, closing the door behind them. Bo rubbed at her wrists for a moment as she studied the red woman stretching. When she didn’t move, Tanya offered, “The guards report that you haven’t caused any trouble. I thought you could use some time out of the cell.”

  “Thanks,” Bo murmured.

  “There’s a set of exercise clothes in your size in the locker room, and a crew uniform for when you’re done,” the Zeltron girl continued, shifting into a new stretch on the ground, reaching out and grabbing her bare foot.

  Bo looked around and spotted the locker room door. Heading inside, she found the change of clothes and began peeling out of the body suit she wore under her armor. Pulling on the new clothes, she made her way back outside barefoot.

  “Get warmed up,” Tanya instructed, finishing her stretching and standing. She made a standing leap up to the second level and made her way over to a small refrigerator, pulling out a metal container full of water to drink.

  Bo shrugged and moved down to the lower area to start limbering up. She wouldn’t mind a good spar to get the blood pumping, and it beat the hell out of being stuck in her cell. Also, if she got to punch Tanya a few times, that’d make it worth it.

  “You’re not what I remember,” she called up as she sat down and began stretching. “You were a lot scarier back then.”

  “You’re not as green as I remember,” Tanya countered, her tone amused.

  Bo sighed. The words that came next stung her pride and felt like pulling teeth, getting them out. “Yeah. You were right. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. Sorry.”

  Tanya nodded, putting away the water bottle and opened up a cabinet, pulling something out before hopping down to the padded floor. Bo looked up in time to catch something tossed her way underhand. The slab of metal slapped into her palm and she frowned, before nearly dropping it as she realized what it was.

  The metal hilt. The rectangular hand guard. It was unmistakable for anything else.

  She had seen it before, of course. The last time was when it had been wielded against the Jedi across from her, by the last real leader of the Death Watch.

  …Before Tanya had killed Tor and taken his head.

  “We stopped by Coruscant and I collected my sword,” Tanya supplied, before holding up something else. It was a mask—gold, with a black, almost ‘Y’ shaped visor. One just as infamous as the Darksaber.

  The Mask of Mandalore. It had been lost over three thousand years ago, hidden away.

  The two of them together, owned by one person…

  Bo swallowed thickly as she felt something stir within her. A quiet laugh, just this side of hysterical, bubbled up within her chest before she stifled it. Her thoughts sped by at light speed as she found herself momentarily at a loss for words.

  Well, no. There was really only one thing to say.

  Bo-Katan dropped to a knee and bowed her head, offering the Darksaber up to its rightful owner.

  “Mandalore.”

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