To Blindly Follow, To Walk The Thorny Path

[Gray Raxis]

Mandalore. It had been not been all that long yet far too much so since Gray was last on his people's sacred homeworld. Force users were not welcome here by law or by current opinion. Yet here he was. He had come in a plain suit of Mandalorian armor that looked like it could belong to any clan or anyone. The shuttle he had taken also had no idea who he was as he had come under an alias. It didn't matter what name he had given them. They didn't remember. He didn't remember. What was important was that he was before the palace to keep his word to Baiko that he would help [member="Yasha Mantis"] out in this confusing time.

Gray looked down at the ground below him before the palace. Soil and ash. He removed the gauntlet from his left hand and knelt down as he continued to hold it with his right. He scoped up a handful of the precious devastation with his flesh. It felt angry. It felt anguished. It felt warm. He moved his fingers through it. An mixture of smoothness and coarseness that could not be separated met his touch. The scent of metal and mineral welcomed his nose as he moved it close to his face. He tilted his hand. It slide and was carried off to return back to itself. He slipped the gauntlet back on as he stood up then went into the palace. He had a mission and it brought him towards the throne room.

[member="Kaden Mantis"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

A selection of engineers, civil defence contractors and the Yalilyr stood from the round table placed in the throne room, to the middle and side of the empty throne. Yasha stood with them, nodding and making small talk where applicable, but for the most part keeping her head down in the plans.

Katlaydr had the distinct mission of promoting the sciences and infrastructure in the Cuir Rekr, and the education reminded her keenly of one precious thing:

​

[member="Aditya Mantis"] was born to do this. ​

Her mother wasn’t here. Her mother should have been sitting at the table directing ‘traffic’ of the various engineers, scientists and geoformists who linked together to repair the damage of Mandalore… but like the ash and sand [member="Gray Raxis"] dipped his fingers into outside, some things on Manda’yaim were plain wrong.

The room filtered empty, voices of the people fading off the vaulted echoing chamber above. The throne room was as cold as the black marble which composed it, yet like Mandalorians themselves, the covering hid a deceptive resilience to the Sundari Palace.

Pyre fires in cauldrons along the great length of the hall. The herbs better known for stacking the funeral pyres sent a sweet and somewhat acrid potion into the air, in honour of Aryn, in honour of Dathomir and Utapau.

In secret honour of Ra.

The light stung her eyes, and she closed them. ​

Ambrose Vizsla pulled the people out of the room like poison from a wound, until all who were left was Yasha, [member="Kaden Mantis"] and the approaching [member="Gray Raxis"].

[member="Baiko no Kaho"] warned Ambrose… the Gurlanin growled and snapped, but told Kaden, and placed the Yalilyr in strategic places around the throne room and the Palace.

The Palace was clear of onlookers as the lonely Mandalorian made his way to the throne room. The doors opened for the blind man, because Ambrose pushed them.

“Dar’jetti.” Ambrose whispered, a vulpine growl to his throat. He gave no motion to follow Gray, but shut the door behind him. Baiko’s doing… a subtle power behind the throne.

“… and look over here, Kade’ika, there’s this… where is it? There was a plan f-wh-who are you? Why are you here?” Consumed by her work, the fatigued Force Dead young woman craned her weary eyes up, and stared at the approaching figure.

 

[Kaden Farr]

Kaden was either with Yasha, or he was never too far. Some would think he was over protective or smothering, but anyone who would did not understand the hell both of them had been through. The young man had followed his best friend into the Netherworld because of a promise he did not fully understand, but a promise nonetheless. It was the ultimate display of the feelings both shared, and it was the shared experience of the past seven years which kept Kaden glued to Katlaydr’s side. He would never be gone from it. Ever since their return he had been sneaking away to find her even as sleep refused to come unless they were together. It wasn’t because Kaden is was over protective. They needed each other in a way no one could understand. No one did.

There was a time when Kaden would have taken one look at the plans and drawings which were now a scattered mess splayed across the round table. He hated these meetings, but contained his thoughts. Baiko had taught him there was need to suffer long through many unpleasant things in order to achieve the greatness of success. Kaden had been taught to play the long game.

Ambrose had warned Kaden of an incoming guest, someone Baiko had sent. As Ambrose began to clear the room, Kaden knew why. Yasha had seemed to miss everything happening around her, but she did what she always did. Yasha pushes ahead, in everything, Kaden wasn’t just there to protect her, but to help her know when to slow down.

The doors opened for [member="Gray Raxis"], and Yasha still spoke of plans. His eyes were fixed on the blind man walking toward them. He could hear the growl of Ambrose’s words, and with a hand waved for the man to stand down. His guards were positioned where they needed to be. Kaden was a hard warrior. His heart, as Yasha had aptly observed, was as hard as beskar. He was as visciois as the black pitch coated beskar’gam made him appear to be. It covered his body save for the helmet which rest on the table infront of where he stood.

Yasha noticed the man. Kaden simply took the plans from her hands, the ones she had picked up as she looked for the ones which had been misplaced. One glance of his eyes to hers simply said they could find them later.

”You’ve caught us in the middle of what seems to be the never ending task of rebuilding an empire from the ashes of its former glory.”

Kaden motioned to Ambrose who stood at the door.

”Scrounge up some water for Katlaydr and our guest.”

[member="Yasha Mantis"]

 

[Gray Raxis]

The hallways of the palace were empty. Gray could sense those who had not been "cured" being shuttled about so that it remained this way as he moved ever forward. Someone was pulling some strings to keep this little meeting as secret as possible. He had an idea who that person was too. If this was how they wanted their side of things to play out that was fine with him. The only thing he need to and was going to focus on was meeting with this [member="Yasha Mantis"] . The echo of each step reminded him of the cave. Actually it was an old mine shaft that led down to the underwater lake he had found a sense of peace he so desperately needed at the time at. Nature being forced to take shape around the desires of the living. Too bad Mandalore lacked the serenity she so badly wished for right now...

Entering the throne room, Gray ignored the servant's behavior. It wouldn't be the first time someone thought so little of him and wouldn't be the last. He couldn't sense anyone else in the room with him through the force, but he knew he wasn't alone. People made sounds by just living and those came clearly to his ears. The first to speak up was a female voice and then was followed by a male one. Clear it was Yasha, but he didn't know the other even though there was something familiar about it. Must be her betrothed or lover. It was a little funny though that he was polite and seemed to know what was going on yet the young woman that everyone seemed to be putting all their lots on had no idea. Baiko must have only warned the young woman's supporters and not her herself. She was in for something then.

Ignoring the pair's words addressed to him, Gray removed his gauntlet from his left hand. It was dyed the same color his parents left him from the ash. " See this?" He held his hand out so both could see his empty palm. " Mandalore mourns her children." He tossed the gauntlet onto the table top as he kept the sight before them. He wanted Yasha to take it in. He needed her to. After a bit he removed his other gauntlet and tossed it by it's mate. Normally he would have synthetic skin covering his right hand for the sake of texture and visuals for others, but not today. Today he allowed the metal and polymer and plastic to show. He took his helmet off and set it down in front of him facing the direction the voices had come from. A gray scarf covered in Mandalorian symbols was wrapped around his eyes. Facing the two he said, " I'm Gray Raxis. I hear you have been looking for advise from witches and Sith. Why is that?" And so it began. It was time for this young wolf to show him what she was like.

[member="Kaden Mantis"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“Kaden.” Yasha’s voice pushed at the air with the usurping Mando’ad and her [member="Kaden Mantis"]’ hand on the plans. He was hers. In that, Gray sensed the correct connection. Yasha was Kaden’s, and Kaden was Yasha’s. Marriage vows were too weak for the loyalty between the two. They were less lasting than the vows Yasha and Kaden settled within. Yasha and Kaden were hard warriors, but for the nights, where sleep refused her unless he held close. Love, forged in grief. Love strengthened in the Netherworld’s bastions was the strongest in the universe. Even without the Force in their bodies, the spirit of their connection was as strongly seen as the Palace itself.

As with many things in the lives of a predator, Baiko knew it was best to give Yasha as little time to stew over something as possible. The Atrisian ‘nanny’ knew if Yasha was going to give Gray his best chance, he had to take her off guard and fast. Let her be shaken. Let her be ignorant of the goings on of some in her own Keep.

Water was coming. Yasha smacked her lips… she had been a bit parched. Her breathing was the only indication of where she was in the room, her body and its’ beskar’gam rustling the only clue.

The gauntlet clanged on the table and the fearless young woman flinched. The ash on his hand was everywhere in the Palace, as much as the droids kept the place clean, soot and ash and sand were inevitably a part of the fabric of the place. Yasha stood in silent contemplation, a conflicted young woman with legions of the dead and the living piling wholesale on her back.

She would not break… but she could be confused. She would not shatter… but she could lack direction.

Another clang. Yasha stiffened, her shoulder bowing in and the digits of her crushgaunt curling back and forth. Threat… Was this a threat… Kaden offered water, a pardon for their recent actions.

“Raxis.” Her voice was surprisingly deep for a twenty year old child. Raxis was a banished clan, Dar’manda. Dar’jetti. They were betrayers, and Force Users and… blind. The katar she unsheathed on reflex from her crush gaunt made a sleek sound in the air.

Yasha’s head canted to the side, a kad’uliik about to pounce. Yet the straightforward security of the man soothed her. She stared at the grey scarf around his faulty eyes and saw the courage of the Manda in a man most of the planet would toss away. The katar was sheathed in its’ hidden place. There would be no blood shed today.

[member="Gray Raxis"] came to Mandalore, a child of Manda answered her call at the precise moment when its’ would-be Mand’alor was lost in the swathe of multiple directions.

“When Ember Rekali returns from the dead to tell you he will unleash vengeance without proportion, it’s best to hear him out… he took seven years of our lives, Alor Raxis. Seven years in the Netherworld for him to place us back the moment we left. Clearly, he thought I had more to learn before he opened his book and fed me wisdom. I guarantee you, I needed to hear what he had to say.” Turmoil, and a gut-twisting pain laced in the young woman’s voice. The reason was far larger than a threat, which was neither simple nor unprovoked.

“Is it not the station of the Cuir Rekr to speak with one’s allies? The Sith Empire is the only ally we have. All that stops us from a desperate end.” How could Yasha speak of her reasons for goading the Warlock of the Gate?

“… Raxis… Raxis? You…” A voice from her memories… a single voice in her comm, while she wore her visor and she curled on the floor of the speeder….

… she’d been shot. In true Yasha childhood fashion, the girl had curled up as small as possible and hid. Kaden pulled her out, curling her dying body to his chest as Narir called for help.

Gray Raxis. The one who answered a child’s desperate call. His generosity as a medic saved his life today, upon touching down to Mandalore. If not for his response to the distress call, Ambrose would never have agreed to Baiko’s demands.

“I was dying. You came to rescue me. You’re the Raxis that saved my life.” The tension in her voice fled for other pastures. She sat in the nearest chair and looked to Kaden. How much do they dare tell?

What do they dare say to an ‘enemy’ of Mandalore?

“Why are you here, Alor Raxis? Who sent you?”

 

[Kaden Farr]

Each step of the dar’manda echoed in Kaden’s ears. Had this not been Baiko’s idea the man would be dead, head separated from shoulders, before he could make it halfway across the room. Kaden trusted Baiko with his life, and with the life of his Yasha. There was a small smirk which tugged at the corner of his mouth. It was the one thought that could manage to seep through his beskar clad heart. The cold warrior was guarded from any emotion save for those his Yasha evoked. Betrothed. Lovers. Those words did not suffice in describing their relationship. They were beyond such terms and one in a way no one could understand.

Kaden knew this man. This man had saved Yasha. Would she recognize him too? It didn’t seem like it. A calming hand was placed on the pauldron of Yasha’s armor. She would feel the weight of his hand, but nothing more. He steadied her. Baiko had told Ambrose that Kaden needed to be sure Yasha heard the man out.

When Yasha did recognize the man she recounted what happened that day. Kaden closed his eyes and sighed. His hand dropped as Yasha sat down and he reached for the scar on his shoulder. It wasn’t visible, but Yasha knew it was there. Kaden had been hit trying to veer off from the sniper. He’d failed. It was that injury, and the one Yasha suffered, which led to the promise which saw Kaden chase after her as she rushed into the warlock gate.

There was a look exchanged. How much should they tell indeed?

No more than what she already had.

Kaden offered in his own look she needed to listen to this man. Once he spoke, Yasha would be aware that Baiko had made Kaden privy to what she was doing. At least he would no longer need to keep her secret.

[member="Yasha Mantis"] [member="Gray Raxis"]

 

[Gray Raxis]

The male did not speak, but Gray heard his name faintly. Kaden. The way she uttered his name was enough for him to get the gist of their relationship to each other. He had a feeling Baiko didn't just send him here for Yasha. It was beginning to look like he would need to be much more careful around that woman the next time they met, not that he saw her as a threat to anything or anyone he held dear. As the two moved around, which was the only thing he knew for sure from the sightless echoes, he noted everything said and not said. It seemed they held some kind of resentment towards him. Or perhaps is was more of a fear for reasons he couldn't explain? It was hard to judge these kinds of things without his ability to sense their emotions. He had forgotten what that was like. He just let her speak until she finally asked him the all important question.

Gray didn't move from where he was standing. With his flesh and artificial hands pressed against the table, he said, " The Manda sent me. Mandalore calls out for help, and I could not ignore her any longer. Can't you hear her too?" He kept his face turned in the direction he heard sounds. With these two he was truly blind in a way he was not with others, but that did not matter to him. It seemed they needed to hear whatever it was he had to say. " I know of Ember Rekali. I never met him, but I have met his kin. My clan even has his old flagship. He died protecting Mandalore and Mandalorians. It is best to honor him, but it was not right for him to steal seven years from you. Never forget that a witch, not a Mandalorian, demanded payment for what he should have given freely whatever it was." He didn't know and he didn't care. The business of the dead was not for the living and the same was true for the other way around.

Straightening back up, Gray folded his arms in front of him. Ember was one thing, but it was the part about the Sith that truly bothered him. He had no love for Sith. It would be accurate to say he hated them to his core, so he was heavily biased when it came to them. He went on saying in as controlled a tone as he could to avoid sneering, " You say Mandalore is allied with the Sith, but that is foolish. The Sith have no allies only pawns. They backstab each other because it is their way and you expect loyalty and honesty from them? If they are Mandalore's only ally then you haven't tried to make allies with anyone." His anger was beginning to get to him. He could hear it in how his voice towards the end began to spill it out. A moment was needed for him to right himself. It was a moment he took. " They offer gifts and supplies and whatever else we need right? Next you will tell me that Kaine Zambrano himself is trying to become a personal ally and tries to marry you off to one of his grandkids. That is what he did with Isley Verd and where is that clan now? Are they here rebuilding Mandalore? Are they helping her people?" He didn't know much of what happened to that clan following the collapse of the Crusade. All he knew was things didn't go well after he was captured and tortured for months on end. But even not knowing, it didn't change the fact they were not here anymore.

Gray needed another moment. It was all getting to him being here on the planet. He hadn't noticed until now but he was being effected by the state of things. The suffering of the people, the devastation of the world, and the struggle of every moment was filtering into him through the force. His time becoming more attuned was working against him right now and was influencing his emotions. But was that a bad thing? No. He just needed to get a better grip on it now that he was more aware of it. He unfolded his arms and leaned forward once again as he had before. " The Sith will change you. They will turn you from the Resol'nare and from Mandalore. They will see to it you are no longer Mandalorian. Are you fine with that?"

Was he feeling preachy right now? Gray wondered if he was. No one liked for others to do that to him, especially those with pride. It had it's place and was needed but only after someone knew the other better than he knew this young woman and young man before him. He leaned back up and moved to the nearest chair. As he sat down, he said in a calm voice, " Tell me Yasha. Do you know the meanings of the colors on our armor? What is the tenants of the Resol'nare? Why am I even asking you all of this? Feel free to speak as well, Kaden was it?" He was settled into his chair now. The Mandalorian helmet on the table next to him staring the pair down. It silently whispered for answers from them.

[member="Kaden Mantis"] [member="Yasha Mantis"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“All I can hear are the undying screams of the wrongfully dead… and the hunger pangs of the rest of us who survived it.” Yasha said, wincing only when [member="Gray Raxis"] talked of [member="Ember Rekali"].

“He had every reason to pitch me into the Netherworld, Gray. In my childhood I thought it was justice to follow Ra’s way. To end the Force in any way I could, and release the Dathomiri from their bond to it. I thought by taking their sensitivity to the Force away, they would realize I did them a favour, and rejoin us of their own will. Naive… naive child I was. My forces took it as a much more bloodied affair than I’d intended… but the command was still mine. The Witches who died are on my head, and I suffered for it.” She grew quiet, crushgaunt clad fingers tapping at the table. “I could have born that pain myself gladly once I understood it… but to involve [member="Kaden Mantis"] and…” Yasha’s voice nearly cracked as she turned her face down and away, the rustling of her beskar’gam betraying the motion. Kaden. Could she forgive herself for involving him in that terrible time? Could she forgive herself for what happened to [member="Shia Kryze"] in the Netherworld’s depths?

“Let it never be said I dash forward without realizing my mistakes.” Humility in a one set to rule. It became all the more clear why [member="Baiko no Kaho"] sent Gray Raxis to Mandalore. Katlaydr was at a crossroads. The Alor of Clan Raxis was right to demand an answer to why the future Mand’alor took up the wisdom of Witches and Sith. He was right to demand the answers all Mandalore would eventually demand, at the end of their loyalty and their guns. “Rekali called the Force and the Manda one and the same, Gray… do you share his philosophy?”

As Gray spoke of Zambrano and a possible future marriage, Yasha audibly tensed. Her crushgaunts scratched at the table. She eyed Kaden, he’d known about this intrusion? “I dealt with Zambrano. He has no hold over me. He cannot manipulate me through the Force, he cannot make me afrai…” Her voice choked. Her eyes caught sight of the fire burning behind Gray. The light burned. She let it.

The anger dripping off Gray Raxis was as stark a hit to the cheek as a fist in the jaw. Yasha sat quiet, watching how stricken a man who by all intents should be thrown into a TSAC could be over the Empire which abandoned him. Was the call of the Resol’nare stronger still than fear, than personal injury and condemnation?

Was it as her father told her, the Mandalorians were an idea which could never die, even as Empires waxed and waned. “I will not bow to wizards and manipulators in the dark. Kaine looked me in my eyes and said he relied on the Dark Side of the Force to survive the same horrors I survived without it. It took an eight foot tall Master of the Force a dependance on it, when a six year old girl had nothing but a blanket and a broken spearhead… no. No I am not fine with that.”

A renewed calm settled on Gray Raxis as he sat. Looking to Kaden, Yasha shook her head. “I do not know the colours and their meaning… My parents were Epicanthix immigrants, Gray. I have spent more of my life in Hell than on Mandalore… but Ra did teach me much, when I was his Ward. Education and armor, self-defense, our tribe, our language, our leader—all help us survive. We must educate our children as Mandalorians, obey the commands of Mandalore, speak Mando'a and defend our clans… why were you willing to come? What made you take this road?”

 

[Kaden Farr]

Kaden continued to let [member="Yasha Mantis"] and [member="Gray Raxis"] spar verbally for a while. It was an interesting conversation. However his fist clenched when it was suggested that Kaine would attempt to marry Yasha off to one of his grandsons.

”Over my dead body,” Kaden whispered under his breath. It was quiet enough that only Yasha would catch it, if she did at all.

She telling more than she should. However it was not her words which made him move, it was the way she squinted as the light hit her eyes. Kaden saw it too, at the mention of Kaine Zambrano. Gray would never understand why Yasha couldn’t finish what she was saying, nor would he understand whatever reaction the force user could perceive. Kaden remembered the face of that child... Kaden HATED that child.

Yasha recovered and Kaden grinned. He refused to sit at the table. As was his duty, Kaden stood one step behind and to the right of Yasha. It wasn’t until he was spoken to that he felt like he had anything to add to the conversation.

Armor color was tricky, but Kaden knew well enough to answer for Yasha. She knew her tenets, but most of the Mando’ade could no longer tell you what armor color meant. Most did not choose color based on meaning, but by clan or by what “looked” cool.

”Look at Yasha’s armor then, Alor Raxis. You know your colors. Look at mine. Yasha is dressed in black and gold. This stands for justice and vengeance. I wear black... all black. We wish for nothing more than to seek and restore justice to the Mando’ade. Mandalore has not had that for a long time. Yasha is capable of leading, and do not make the mistake of assuming that because her knowledge is not as complete as yours she is not. What she does not know I do, and she is never without me.”

Was it a threat or a statement? Kaden would let the hearer decide.

”I know Baiko sent you. For what purpose?”

At least Gray had one less question from Yasha he had to answer, and now Yasha had her answer. This was all Baiko’s doing.

 

[Gray Raxis]

Both of them seemed to have been drawn out by Gray's comments and questions. He could tell this by the sounds coming from their end of the room. Metal moved against metal and stone and other material. Breaths and soft, inaudible whispers spoke for the words he could not hear. Even the way they spoke told him that they were not as calm about things as they might want him to think. Both spoke and answered him however, which told him everything he needed to hear for right now. Baiko sent him here for her own purpose, but the Manda had him here for another. They might consider themselves Mandalorian right now, but he was going to see to it that by the end of this that no one could say they were not. It was time for him to follow the Resol'nare and teach these young pups a lesson.

Gray turned his head to face the direction he heard [member="Yasha Mantis"] voice come from first. " The force is just a part of the Manda the same as you and I and him. The Manda is much more. I can't say much more than that though because I don't know more than that. As far as things go with the... Sith... I will get into that more later. Just remember what you said about it." He turned his attention to [member="Kaden Mantis"] direction, or where he guessed the young man was at, and said, " You do realize I'm blind right and can't see either of you? Even if you both were not force dead, I wouldn't be able to see the color of your armor. I can use the force to see around myself but there are many things I still can't perceive anymore. Color is one of them. I can't even see what is on holopads."

Well those little bits were out of the way, it was now time for Gray to get to his purpose for being here. He turned his face so it was facing what he hoped was both of them. " You know the tenants Yasha and it seems Kaden has a general idea on the colors, but that doesn't excuse you for not knowing them Yasha. And you, Kaden, are failing in your duties to her if she doesn't and you do. Remember the first thing I said to you both?" He held his palm up so they could see his gray stained left palm. " Gray means you are mourning a lost loved one. It is the color of ash. It is my name. I already told you I can't see colors, but that doesn't mean I'm not aware of what my hand looks like right now. Mandalore mourns for her children. They starve. They struggle. You were right about that Yasha, but you missed a bigger part of it. They do not know. The first tenant of the Resol'nare is to teach your children the ways of being a Mandalorian. The tenants are part of this but so is colors. Not just knowing either but understanding it. Mandalore mourns because her people have failed to uphold the first and most important tenant of the Resol'nare that they go out and claim to be following. Your ignorance on the very meanings of the colors is proof of this Yasha. And you have failed her Kaden because as a Mandalorian, as her partner, it is your duty to make sure she knows such important things to our people if she doesn't. You knowing doesn't make up for her not knowing."

It was a little heavy, but Gray couldn't stop now. He was just beginning. The Manda willed these two learned. It was his sacred duty to teach them. He would teach them no matter how much they might hate him for it by the end. His people hated him for always trying to remind them of their honor, of their roots. He was sure these two by the end would be no different, but that didn't matter. He was here to teach a lesson that must be learned not to be liked. He set his palm back down flat onto the table top. " You mentioned you wear black and gold. You wear justice and vengeance. What does that mean to you? For our people now it seems to be one and the same. If that was true, why do we have two different colors meaning it? The answer is they aren't the same thing. One of our own devastates Mandalore, but nothing is done about it. Starvation, suffering, struggle, death. All of this followed it and is the issues Mandalore still faces today. The first action that should have been done was to help those in need. It is another of our duties under the Resol'nare about providing and protecting our own. That would have been the justice our people deserved. What they got instead was apathy and then a civil war started up over vengeance. And what about those born sensitive to the force living on Mandalore? They were as Mandalorian as anyone else and just as effected by it all. Yet what happened? They were blamed for something they had nothing to do with and did not support in order to distract those seeking the justice and vengeance you both wear. What justice did they get having to choose between exile or losing a piece of themselves? No, it was vengeance against a handful being taken out on innocent Mandalorians. It was no justice. It was no vengeance. It was brutality. It was not the Mandalorian way. It drove people to side with the very ones who started this out of desperation. They were wrong, but what choice were they given? Is that what your black and your gold stand for? Or does it stand for giving our people the justice and vengeance they rightfully deserve? Does it stand for the Resol'nare or does it stand for you?"

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“Kade, he’s blind. You can’t ask him what we’re wearing.” Yasha groaned, rolling her eyes and looking up at his chin. “If the Force is part of the Manda, then the Sith are part of it too. Aren’t we all interconnected, Gray? Is this not a universe striving for balance in the chaotic punches of the dark?”

[member="Gray Raxis"] was pushing his luck. Yasha’s chair skittered away from the table, as Yasha’s hands slapped on the table. “I was in Hell!!” Yasha bellowed. The cacophony of her voice laced with a thousand meanings to the word, all heteroglossically viable to her and Kaden’s experience. “Seven years of it! Six before that! Thirteen years of Hell and you lecture me on colour coding metal plates!? WHO ARE YOU!? Manda come to relieve me of this… this…”

The young woman’s voice tightened to a strangle point. She heaved hard-won breaths, in a flimsy attempt to settle herself. To settle the bile in her throat, Yasha snapped her teeth. “Thirteen years bathed in the soot and gore and maw of the Netherworld and you ask me if I know colours from a culture I barely knew! The person you speak to pulled herself twice out of the Netherworld with strength of will alone. I don’t have the Force to rely on. It rejected me like the cataclysm rejected my mother and baby brother’s last breaths! All I had… All I had was Kaden. All..” Yasha choked again, “All I had… you speak of ignorance when you should speak for healing. Healing doesn’t come from the colour of the ash on your hand, Alor Raxis. Healing is a nameless god, who refuses to allow its’ would-be worshippers an altar to crowd around. I would sacrifice everything I have to see one second of horror off Kaden’s face… If anyone other than Baiko sent you...” Yasha didn’t finish. Part of her knew she couldn’t without somehow damaging what little grace she had.

Baiko threatened to break her, to tear down the walls Yasha built in the intervening seven years of utter dark. Before Gray was a young woman and young man, whose cores had been so shaken, so tested that there was nothing left but instinct. Nothing to delight in but each other.

“I’m not sitting here leaving my people to starve! We’re working as fast as we can to repair Manda’yaim!” Nihilism radiated off their backs and into the empathic texture of the throne room by the simple consternation of a Mandalorian who truly knew more than the youths in the room.

Baiko knew at the end of her journey from inferno to paradise, Yasha needed to break. The girl in front of Gray Raxis needed to shatter, and bellow, and in that place of security, be built back up.

The Netherworld had not broken the girl.

Ember Rekali had not broken the girl.

Darth Carnifex had not broken the girl, far from it. The Dark Lord encouraged and doted on her with the altrusim of a dictatorial state raising its’ hand to a slimmer, easily fed neighbour.

Gray Raxis… Simple, enigmatic, brave and unyieldingly honest Gray Raxis broke Yasha Mantis. So simple a thing, to remind a child of what they did not know.

“With what, Raxis? Help those in need with what? The treasury is dry as desert bone. Our only aide comes from Kaine Zambrano. The Galaxy hates and fears our desperation and our animals are all but dead. We…” The obsidian throne behind the Epicanthix beauty beckoned to the back of her neck. It pulled at her like a snake around a crushed creature.

“… we have nothing left.” This was not a throne of honour, or a place of plenty. The Throne Room of Sundari’s Palace was as empty as the scattershot holes in Yasha and Kaden’s souls. And yet… and yet Gray Raxis, confounding Gray Raxis spoke of honour, education, providing for the Clans. To see a blind exile return to his homeland for the sole sake of two younglings, even on pain of injury or worse, stand without irony and tear them down was to see what Mandalore deserved.

Manda’yaim did not deserve Yasha Mantis. The Manda did not deserve [member="Kaden Mantis"].

Manda’yaim deserved Gray Raxis. The planet cried out for wisdom, for the Resol’nare in its’ uncomfortable level of purity to reclaim the ash on his one natural hand.

The walls around Yasha’s control shattered. Her breathing grew ragged and hiccupping. “What justice did I get, Gray? Did I get my parents teaching me the way I should go? No. I got a Gurlanin Mand’alor, who-“ Yasha gnashed her teeth. “What justice did Kaden get for two dead parents? Monroe is dead. I saw her body hang from Black Sky and justice… justice was Ra throwing us into raids to take the food and the weapons and the supplies we needed to rebuild Sundari and Cold Iron City and Keldabe. Justice was [member="Zeke Farthen"] and [member="Dorn Skirata"] building New Keldabe. Justice! Justice was… justice… Maybe I ought to wear nothing but gold.”

Boots clanged against the marble floor. The scent of scarlet roses and irli blossoms. A brush of wind from the motion of a nearing body. “I have lived my entire life between missing pieces… Your lot lorded over the rest of us, until you convinced yourselves yours was the natural state. I understand what is actually wrong with the Galaxy, Gray… upon my return I could see it. In Ember’s face I could see it. In Carnifex, I could see it… there are too many beings who espouse to the normalcy of supernatural power. Put you in a Ysalamiri bubble, you are still Gray Raxis. Put a Force Wielder within distance of a Bral, and they do not cease to be intrinsically them. The piece they miss is superfluous. You are not your powers in the Force. You are Mando’ad. You stand there accusing me of acting on a faulty supposition that the Force makes you what you are. With or without the Force, you are. With or without the Force, Mandalore is as strong as our ideals. The Force isn’t the problem. Nor is it the answer. It’s those who use it as a crutch, when they should trust in their vode. Without armour, we are not Mandalorian. Without Mando’a, we are not Mandalorian. Without educating our ch-ch…”

Breaking into a stutter she could not spin out of, the images from the Netherworld shattered across Yasha’s brow.

A whisper spread through the room through the Force, crying into Gray Raxis’ ears.

A little boy, sobbing. Calling out from the torturous black of the Warlock Gate.​

“Moooommy… mmmooooooooooooooommy…” ​

The only grace the young Mantis had was the incapacity to hear it.

 

[Kaden Farr]

[member="Gray Raxis"] was pressing into dangerous and uncharted territory. No one had dared attempt to chastise or correct [member="Yasha Mantis"] since both of them had returned from the Netherworld along with Shia Kryze. Kaden took in several deep breaths to calm himself because he knew Yasha would not be. The lecture they were receiving was not going to save them the time they had spent in hell, and certainly would not give back the innocence Yasha could no longer remember. Both of them were damaged, but Yasha more so. Had it not been for such a strong and deep covenant love between the two of them, neither would be standing in the room.

The resol'nare had nothing to do with that.

Ra had nothing to do with that.

Colors and meaning had nothing to do with that.

Yasha moved from her chair, and Kaden knew she was beyond calming. The best he could do for her was to let her say the things she felt. Baiko's name alone would be enough to keep her from killing the man where he stood. Gray was safe because of that name, and that he owed to Kaden. Had it not been uttered, Yasha would have struck him down, and had Gray not allowed her, Kaden would have followed.

Her scent wafted past Kaden's nose as she passed. He breathed it in relishing the freshness of it, and how much it did not smell like the rotting flesh of the Netherworld. It was a smell no one could ever be used to.

Kaden stood as still as stone as Yasha unleashed her tirade against the blind force user. It wasn't until she was done that Kaden spoke.

"Without the force he does not see, ner cyare, Yash'ika," Kaden spoke with a calming tone. He had not wanted to contradict her in a grand moment of putting the man in his place otherwise. Kaden had however. He did not like where any of this was leading.

He looked over to Gray.

"I know that Baiko did not send you here to lecture Katlaydr on things she does not know and was never taught. The woman is as much a mother to me as anyone could. She has made me more than some ten year old boy who could not see past the base interpretations of the six tenets which readily fly out of your mouth. I was orphaned because of the destruction. Kad Tor and those that escaped to Dxun took me in, taught me, raised me until I set out on my own. It was not that our people did not teach their children. It was that our people relied on the force for things our fore fathers relied on themselves for."

Kaden paused. He moved to Yasha, and placed his hand on her shoulder once more.

"We have a world to rebuild, defenses to repair, food and water to find for those who come to us for shelter, and those who could help us... where are they? Yet, you are here..."

He returned to his place one step behind and to the right of Yasha's seat.

"The Force... why shouldn't we continue to force the cure on those among our ranks who attempt wield it? What do you offer in helping to heal this planet? These arguments about who is and who is not guilty of breaking the resol'nare... these are arguments that have brought this world to its knees. They certainly will not be the ones to restore it."

Kaden looked over to Yasha. This was the first time he had stepped out of his place to truly interject himself beyond protecting Yasha. The more she eyed the throne, the more he eyed the place one step behind and to the right of it. Both were vacant. Both needed to be filled.

 

[Gray Raxis]

And so it began. The hatred, the outrage. Gray knew of this reaction. It was all he ever got from his fellow Mandalorians when he opposed the common course of the other clans. The events of Ilum were one of the best examples of it. He did nothing to help them slaughter innocent children and people over a few crystals that he had bargained a way for them to obtain without bloodshed. Then after that when the leader of the operation was reprimanded, he was called out and challenged by Ijaat as he claimed all the blame fell onto Gray for not following orders he knew were wrong. Then when that challenge was accepted, nothing came of it. The challenger had just used a sacred Mandalorian tradition to make a public point then abandoned it after. This was the same man who had helped to devastate Mandalore. It showed many of the problems Gray knew needed to be addressed and was trying to help these two fix within themselves.

So when [member="Yasha Mantis"] began to speak her mind and condemn him, Gray let her. She had as much of a right to do this as he had in lecturing them before. She deserved the chance to make her point, which she did. He had heard it all before about himself.... But then things changed. She began to become more focused on herself and less on Mandalore as a whole. She asked about her own justice and that of [member="Kaden Mantis"] as well. What was he to say to her? She was right about how the two were as much victims in all of this as any, and they had as much right to justice as them. If he wanted to say something to her about it though he couldn't. She shifted yet again to speaking of him. Something about him seemed to get to her. She spoke of the force and those who use it, but while she condemned others such as Ember and Kaine she didn't do it to him. No it seemed she saw him differently than those two.... Then she couldn't stop her stutter.

A whisper began to reach Gray's ears as Kaden began to make his point. What he had to say was likely more truth than lies than Gray would have liked. But he wasn't going to back away or deny it. If he wanted to teach these two then he needed to be as much an example as words. The sound of steps and movement though told him that something had happened. He didn't know what, but the whisper continued. It seemed to disturb Whisper in it's hilt home. The little crystal hummed nervously to him each time the whispers haunted his ears. There was something about it. Something eerie and otherworldly. He couldn't make it out, but he could sense it was not of this plane and something Dathomiri about it....

Now wasn't the time to ponder on it. Gray had a duty given to him involving these two. He meant to see it through. He got to his feet and began to head towards the direction he could hear Yasha stuttering from. He said as he made his way, " There is truth in both of your words, but you are wrong young man. I'm not here about someone breaking the Resol'nare. I'm here to restore it." He was almost to her now. The scent of flowers was strong and the sounds of her voice more so. As he drew upon her, he said, " Mandalore does not reject you. I will not reject you." With that he wrapped both arms around the young woman. His right hand came to rest on her back while what was real left of his hand came to rest gently against the back of her head. He embraced her tightly into him. She was only slightly shorter than he was, but it didn't matter. Mandalore was a tough place, but it was also one that at it's core was about love. This broken young woman needed some right now.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

[member="Kaden Mantis"] took control of a situation in free fall, and Gray seemed to do nothing but give them the gift of his silence. Then he did the unthinkable, the very thing Kaden would kill lesser men for attempting on his Yasha.

Yasha’s body went as ramrod straight as the pillars of marble, which held up the throne room’s vaulted ceilings. Her lungs hacked and yanked at the air, trying to find purchase in the atmosphere which became as thick as a young woman’s many rejections.

Yasha’s armour was, from a goran’s perspective, without reproach. Her buy’ce, which laid on the table, was flawless in protecting her from the light which all but the blind took for granted every day. Against a moment of open and cathartic tenderness, Yasha had no defence.

Her father, by all accounts, was as vicious a killer as cancer after radioactive exposure. Preliat Mantis had the force of the innocent being wrenched out of a decompressed airlock. There were times in Yasha’s childhood where her father was, above all, tender with his daughter. He held her, he sang to her, he cuddled her up in the night when the dreams became entities of near-torture. As much as Preliat Mantis was capable of being a good father, he was not a good man.

The older he and his daughter got, the more dangerous and damaged he became, until it boiled over and he abandoned Mandalore… and his daughter… for what felt like the final time.

Yasha shook as [member="Gray Raxis"] braved the banes of the Netherworld itself, and embraced her. At first, Yasha’s katar snapped from its’ wrist sheath, yet within two mere seconds, the knives which saved them all disappeared. Ragged breathing peppered the air around Gray and Yasha as the future Mand’alor broke utterly against the only assault she’d never witnessed.

Abject, altruistic kindness.

Salt water spilled down her cheeks onto Gray’s armour, as Yasha sunk her head into the crook of his neck and shoulder, and sobbed. Upon contact with the back of her head, flashes in the dark. Images of the depths of Hell, a constant thread of every place she’d ever been attempting to expel her.

Still the whisper. That horrible, gut-wrenching whisper. Yasha Mantis had not been abandoned by the Force. She had been forcibly removed from it, by powers beyond understanding. Removed and set wholly apart, never to know the essence of surrendering to a connection so intuitive it gave the blind eyes and the wise their wisdom. Hatred removed it. Hatred alone worked to destroy the girl Baiko no Kaho loved as a daughter. The hate was not Yasha’s, but it clung to her, the last vestige of two parents, who hated the Force more than they loved their beautiful little girl.

Slim, strong arms wrapped around Gray’s chest. Beyond the stammer of her secondary tongue, and the hiccups coming from her chest, two distinguishable words:

“Teach me”.

 

[Kaden Farr]

Kaden stiffened as Gray moved closer to Yasha. His eyes watching the man for any sudden or violent moves. He spoke of his intention to restore the resol’nare, but Kaden still felt as though he had not heard a word spoken in the meeting. He was too close to Yasha for comfort and the sudden hug was one Kaden could not stop.

He growled low.

”If you value your life you will let go of her.”

Before entering through the Warlock gate Kaden could have not followed through on that threat, now, Kaden could. Gray would not know the torture it reminded Kaden of. He had been forced to watch another man touch his Yasha in Sinner’s Rue, helpless and powerless to stop it. Kaden had promised himself it would never happen again.

Yasha broke down. The love of a man who would be a father if allowed. Kaden was stumped.

”Gray... please,” Kaden chocked. He’d never put voice to his torture. Kaden didn’t even know if Yasha knew how deep the pain had been for him. ”The last time another man touched her it was Sinner’s Rue. I watched. It was all I could do. I’m not asking for her, and damn me if this is selfish, but I vowed I would never be powerless to stop it again. You are kind and I have no doubt of your intentions, but please... let her fall into me... let me bear the weight of holding her up. It is my promise, my duty, and my honor.”

[member="Yasha Mantis"] [member="Gray Raxis"]

 

[Gray Raxis]

The embrace was resisted at first by [member="Yasha Mantis"] . Gray had expected that might be the case. She was stiff and struggled against it. The sound of something moving floated to his ears, but nothing seemed to come from it. Whatever it was she was thinking of doing or had done out of instinct was abandoned quickly. He just held her tenderly if firmly. It was the kind of embrace a father would give to their daughter. This young woman had suffered so much and had to endure it all deep inside. That much had been made clear when she had spoken earlier. It hadn't just been her though. It was also [member="Kaden Mantis"] who had gone through it all with her by her side. His heart went out to the both of them. This was why the Manda had sent him here through Baiko. Perhaps the only thing he had been sent here for was to give this young woman a sign that someone who hadn't seen the same horrors she had cared.

Then Yasha finally stopped fighting it and gave into the caring gesture. Gray found himself embraced by the young woman and warmth spreading across his neck as she let it all out. With this contact the whisper grew stronger. Images played out like shadows against the wall. Disturbing. That was all he would say about either. If he said more then there would be no end of the negative words he used until he ran out just to invent more. It would have been enough if that was all but a deep hatred clung to it all. It reminded Gray of peering into his own depths and seeing that darkness that was always there. Everyone had it within them but it usually was buried far into their core unless they willingly let it out. He felt neither of those with her. It was on the surface of who she was and had the distinct feeling of not being because she let it out. There was a reason for that and he had an idea of what, but it was another thing that needed to wait for later. Too much of that was happening within this meeting.

Gray began to slowly rub the back of Yasha's head in an attempt to comfort her as Kaden spoke for the second time. His first reaction had been a threat, but his second after she had broken down was different. His voice was choked and it was not hard to see why. Whatever they had gone through in the Warlock Gate was being brought up to the surface for the both of them. This moment reminded the young man of whatever it was he had seen. It was something Gray didn't want to know about. It was not for his sake but more for the young man's that he didn't. He moved his head so that he was hopefully looking at Kaden and said, " Then come join us. I'm not letting her go until she is ready to let go. You can either share the experience or watch from far away. But this is what it means to be Mandalorian. It is not all on you to support her. We should all support each other. Mandalore has survived for this long and been able to stay strong because we all do our parts to help one another. A single stick breaks easily but a bundle can not be broken." He held out his right arm wide enough for Kaden to join in. The young man was honorable and obviously cared deeply for her, but he needed to learn that to be Mandalorian meant everything was not on you alone. There was a reason why the clans existed and why they would continue to. He just hoped the lesson was learned before it was tested.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

The light stung her eyes, and she shut them. ​

[member="Kaden Mantis"] growled and Yasha tensed. Was this to be yet another bloodbath? Another link the chain of turning Kaden into a hardened and unforgiving man? Yasha’s eyes yanked open at the visceral nature of Kaden’s threat, sinking her head further into Gray’s shoulder. Why was she hugging this man? Starved for paternal affection, the moment Gray refused to abandon her, Yasha hadn’t known what to say. Off guard and curled up, she once again realized that there was a safety to trust, and Gray provided it. How could that be if he was the enemy everyone hated?

One more unthinkable thing took place, which shocked Yasha into a further uncontrollable sob. Kaden choked up. The beskar around his heart was a direct causation of the illusions of the Rue. None of it had happened… none of it was real… Yasha drove her mind to those points with a singular objection to the complexity of her imprisonment.

Yet… now she realized the imprisonment was not solely hers. Her chin tilted toward her chest, a sting of shame coating her skin like a tattoo. She choked on a hiccup and released herself from Gray.

“You were never supposed to see it. I told you not to. I told you to close your eyes, turn away.” Yasha turned on Kaden, incapable of searching into his stricken face. She slapped her hand on his chest plate, shaking it. “You shouldn’t have… You… you weren’t… I didn’t want… I did it for… you were going to die.”

Yasha pushed both her hands into Kaden’s chest, pushing forward, swerving them around and shoving Kaden backward toward Gray. “It was my hell! It was my burden! You shouldn’t have followed me! You should have left when I told you! I could… I… I could ha-”

Mandalorians. Mercenary killers, warriors of Manda. There was mercy with them, a tangible companionship based around the Aliit. The Clan. Gray Raxis not only taught Kaden and Yasha of the Resol’nare, but of the emotional integrity of the armoured civilization in totem. This was the strength of the ideal, stepping in when one or more members of the Clan were too weak to do so.

“Now Daddy’s broken! He’s gone, Kaden! Daddy’s gone, Mama’s dead, and Malika’s missing and Ra… I can’t look at you without wishing it hadn’t happened… I can’t look at you without feeling guilty. It takes Gray Raxis to come in here, stir all this up? We’ve been doing this for seven years, Kade! I want to let go of this! I can’t keep holding it like a cancer, I need to let it go.” The young woman kept pushing on the offensive, pushing Kaden backward, closer to Gray, closer and closer.

“I need you to see me, and not what happened.”

Within reach of Gray, Yasha sunk her forehead back onto the Mando’ad’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around Gray’s ribcage. There was room for Kaden, she held out a hand. There would always be room for Kaden.

“I need you Kade… and I need this.”

 

[Kaden Farr]

Kaden had not wanted to upset Yasha, but it seemed that he had. The young woman was broken, Kaden was broken, but they did not want to show it. Gray forced the issue, and Baiko knew it would happen. Damn her. Kaden was going to have words with the woman when he next saw her. They would certainly be a mixture of both anger and gratitude. Kaden was angry that she was doing this in such a backhanded way, but thankful that she cared enough for them to send someone that would do what needed to be done and tell them what they needed to hear.

Yasha laid into him, Gray extended his arms toward him. What was Kaden supposed to do. He had carried it for seven years, the secret he had not listened to Yasha. Instead he watched it all. It wasn't that he saw what happened to Yasha when he looked at her. No, Kaden was simply reminded of his failure, the one time he was powerless to keep his promise to her. It wasn't just his burden it was his punishment. Couldn't Yasha understand. He had said to her when they had reached Sanctuary. He failed.

"You have me Yasha... you always have."

Kaden hung his head for a moment.

"I swore never again... I watched because I had to... You wanted to just go straight through. You had to carry it all on your shoulders, but no. I couldn't let you do that. I wasn't going to. You think all I see is what happened when I look at you?"

He looked up at her. She kept pushing him toward Gray, and went back to his embrace.

Kaden gulped and stepped in to join them.

"I don't see what happened. I see a strong woman, a warrior who did what needed to be done to save a friend, someone she cares for deeply. When I look at you I see unrivaled beauty that not even Aditya Mantis could touch. Don't you understand, ner cyare, I see my Yasha."

[member="Gray Raxis"] [member="Yasha Mantis"]

 

[Gray Raxis]

Things were alive in the throne room. Yasha had let go of Gray and was speaking with Kaden. All Gray could do was listen as the pair talked things out. It might not be pleasant for them, but it was for him. It was not that he found any sense of pleasure in their pain. Far from it. He found joy in feeling the healing that occurred. Their foundations needed to be destroyed and rebuilt. Whatever horrors they faced in the Netherworld had followed them out and haunted them. It was something only the pair could see. Anyone else would be as blind to it as Gray was to the universe. He just stood there and let it play out.

Before Gray knew it, [member="Yasha Mantis"] was back and hugging him again. He wrapped one arm around her and held out his other for [member="Kaden Mantis"] to accept or decline. What he wanted was for these two to know they weren't alone. They never were. Baiko was proof of that. What he wanted was for them to realize they weren't alone. The strength from just that little thing could heal worlds, and Mandalore needed that right now. So it came as a relief that the young man accepted. He wrapped his arm around him and gave the two of them as warm an embrace as he could muster. He smiled a bit at this. It felt strange in the best way. It almost was like they were kin now. No, they were kin. He just needed to tell himself that until he heart spoke it to his head.

After a bit, Gray said, " You two should talk. Get everything out there. Communication is key to everything. If we can't share and come to understand one another then we will fall. Others will try to isolate us and use this against us, but that is why it is all the more important we learn as absolutely much about each other as possible. We need to know each other and ourselves better than someone like Kaine could ever hope to." With that he gave them both a squeeze and let go. They needed some time for each other. He just smiled at them as he added, " I will always be here for you. You can learn anytime, so go understand each other." He just hoped that helped and was what these two needed. His purpose for being here was for these two after all. He knew that in a way beyond instinct.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

There were so few influences left to the two, who by rights should have been thirteen and fifteen. [member="Gray Raxis"] promised in his touch to be a stabilizing force for the planetary bodies in unstable orbits around the Mand’alor’s throne. How could kindness be threaded around such a creature? Didn’t Gray need the cure to come home?

“You think it helps me to know you saw that?! I kept… I kept killing myself to get away from HIM and I kept thinking, why? Why!? Why was I hurting myself to get away, when I’m a freaking Mandalorian, Ra chose me, Kaden! He chose me because I was so good at killing and… and HE was right there! He was right there and I couldn’t… I couldn’t defend myself.” Yasha was released from Gray and paced, her boots hitting the marble floor. “But I could defend you.”

Yasha shut her eyes as [member="Kaden Mantis"] called her beautiful, even moreso than her mother. “Don’t you? You look at me with these hard eyes and I know I put that hardness there. I did it… it was my fault, it was my nightmare… Dathomir was my nightmare. I made that call. Ra sure didn’t, I made the call to go to Dathomir, I made the call to provoke Ember, I sent Strider to the village, I let Koda and Vilaz and Atin off their leashes… but you keep showing up and standing beside me, willing to bear the brunt of that pain and I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know what to do but love you… I… I love you. I love you, Kade.”

Finally, an admittance. Black lips pouted, her crushgaunt covered hands pressing against his chest plate.

“Ember said my time as Mand’alor was coming, whether I was ready or not. He sent us back and I keep feeling this push as if there’s still not enough of it, as if he sent us back not far enough…” Yasha walked toward the throne, staring at its’ obsidian depths and the shimmer of light across the cold iron. “Kaine called me the Hell Forged. He was so easy to stand in front of my face and support me, even when I told him off and slapped one hundred years of his own personal suffering in his face. Aryn wanted me to wait… said he’d stand beside me when I was older, but with Daddy and Aunt Malika gone, with… we’re running out of time to fix what broke on Mandalore.”

The throne called almost as strong as the voice lingering around Yasha’s presence like a constant breath.

“… I want my baby.” Yasha slumped down to sit on the dais of the throne, with her elbows on her knees, hands covering the back of her neck. “… and I don’t want him. But… the more time that passes the more wanting him wins out. He’s not real. He was a fiction built by the Sinner’s Rue. Probably punishment for killing Mandos in the Civil War, or.. or maybe it was thinking too hard about my dead baby brother, I don’t know… no, you know what? Forget it. Forget I said it, I didn’t say it.”

Rubbing at the base of her neck, Yasha shook her head. “I don’t. It was a mirage… sometimes I think I can still hear him… but then I remember… it was just a nightmare, cyare… please Manda let it have all been a nightmare.”