Ask [Felucia] A Few too Many Acklay

[Kanan Marek]

River’s voice reached Kanan’s ears even through the shrieking of the Sarlacc pit beneath him. The sound of his voice and the sight of his blade slicing through the Sarlacc’s tentacles was gladly welcomed.

With every second that passed Kanan could feel the air being squeezed out of him by the strong tentacles about his waist. After some struggle, he felt the vibroknife in his hand and drew it up toward the tentacles. His Mandalorian companion was providing the perfect distraction, risking his own life to help Kanan. He could have easily remained behind in safety, but instead he had cut his way through the jungle after Kanan. Apparently with an incredible speed to boot.

Wasting no more time and seizing the opportunity River had provided him, Kanan dug his blade into the tentacle around him and began to carve. He carved as deep as he could without cutting the tentacle through all the way. His hope was that the Sarlacc would fling him to one side of the pit. No such luck.

There was a sliding sensation around his waist as the Sarlacc released him. He realized cutting into its tentacles had been a risk, but it had been a risk he had had to take and hope for the best. Falling toward the mouth of the monster below, the best did happen. Or, perhaps, the second best.

River was down below providing a distraction at the edge of the pit, slicing into tentacle after tentacle. As luck would have it, one such wounded tentacle flung back in pain, knocking into Kanan right as he was about to descend into the mouth of the beast. The blow sent him flying across the pit and onto solid ground, eventually rolling to a stop in the dirt.

@Feng Mian​

 

[Song Wren]

Her heart dropped to her stomach as she watched Kanan plummet into the Sarlacc’s mouth. She cried his name again, then pulled one foot behind her. She still had her jump boots. Although Song wasn’t sure she’d make it across, she hoped the momentum of her leap would be enough to send him to the other side. It was a risk, a sacrifice, she was willing to make.

Then, something unexpected happened.

Another tentacle she cut through reeled back and swatted Kanan aside mid-air. The Ranger had been unwittingly thrown out of danger, much to her relief. Still, the battle was not over yet.

One of the other tentacles snapped at her a second time, which she met with a sweep of her blade, chopping the tip away and sending the Sarlacc into another burst of pain and panic. Its anger reached a boiling point, and it brought a fourth arm around and smashed into the Mandalorian’s side.

Song was sent flying, skidding across the dirt before her back smacked into the stump of a mushroom-shaped tree. The breath was knocked out of her, and her sword had clattered against the ground a few meters back, out of hand. She lost her primary means of defense, and several remaining tentacles slowly moved to finish her off. To pull her into the maw to be digested for the next thousand years.

Over her dead body.

Song lost her sword, but she wasn’t defenseless. Quickly, she pulled out her DL-44 blaster pistol and fired at the approaching arms while slumped against the tree. One of the shots connected, and the Sarlacc retreated. Whether or not it came to the realization that the Mandalorian simply wasn’t worth eating, or it was retreating to come up with a new plan of attack, Song didn’t wait to find out.

She plucked a thermal detonator out of a closed pouch on her waist.

With a click, she armed the grenade and hurled it into the Sarlacc’s maw. Ten seconds later and the only thing it’d be tasting was a sweet, fiery explosive. However, yet another surprise struck. The same unsteady tentacle that had saved Kanan jerked and whacked the grenade aside, sending it rolling right in front of the fallen man.

“No!” said Song. Five seconds left before detonation.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Rolling to a stop in the dirt, Kanan found that he could not yet manage a standing position.

Thanks to the Mandalorian’s swordsmanship, Kanan would live to fight another day. He would have to remember to thank River later. Descending toward the pit only moments earlier, he could swear he had felt the Sarlacc’s thousand year old breath upon his face.

This was twice in one day that Kanan had been sent flying by a strong blow to his person. Unlike the first, the second blow brought about his salvation, albeit inadvertently.

Following the loss of another tentacle to the Mandalorian’s blade, the Sarlacc was in a fit of rage. Smashing another tentacle into River, he too was sent flying just as the ranger had been. That rallied enough strength in Kanan to at lease rise to his knees.

His wits ever about him and his reflexes sharp, River did not allow the fall to become a setback. Within a blink of an eye, a detonator had been pulled from his person and tossed into the pit. Victory, at last.

Or... not. The same tentacle that only moments before had saved Kanan’s life now hit the activated detonator, sending it toward him. The detonator rolled mere inches away from him, its red, blinking light impressing the danger and capability it possessed. River’s voice could be heard across the clearing. Only five seconds remained.

There was no time to run, and even if there was it would not solve the problem of the Sarlacc. Taking his life and the detonator in his hands, he chucked it as hard and as fast as he could in the direction of the Sarlacc’s mouth. Pressing his eyes shut, he hoped his aim had been true and that no tentacle would impede or redirect its path this time. He awaited the explosion to follow.

@Feng Mian​

 

[Song Wren]

With bated breath, Song watched the detonator roll to a stop mere feet from the Ranger. She prayed he hadn’t been knocked unconscious after the fall, else her own grenade would make sure he stayed down permanently. She didn’t have time to cross the gorge in a vain attempt to save Kanan. She could only watch as the inevitable explosion swallowed him up.

Except it didn’t.

Kanan moved into action like something had snapped inside him, and in a moment of impulse and instinct, he grabbed the thermal detonator and tossed it where it belonged. Into the belly of the beast. No tentacles and no flying arms swatted it aside at the last second. The grenade plunged into the Sarlacc’s open mouth, which gulped it down without a second thought. By the time it realized it had eaten the wrong thing, it was too late.

The ground trembled at her feet. An explosion tore through the Sarlacc, which gave a last, high-pitched shriek as the detonator roasted its insides. Every raised tentacle suddenly fell limp to the ground. Dirt from the edges of the pit, shaken by the explosive, buried the teeth-filled maw of the Sarlaac. It was dead.

As for Song and Kanan? Alive and well. Another creature, another kill. Felucia wouldn’t stand a chance against them, and neither would the nest ahead.

“Thought you were dead for a second there,” she said, relieved, once they circled the pit to meet.. “But you never fail to surprise me, Ranger.”

The two returned to their own tee-muss', who looked at them with blank eyes, maybe even a hint of surprise, like they hadn’t expected to see them again. Song smirked. A minute later, and they were off again. Down the beaten path, they rode towards the mountain, a distant silhouette on the horizon. However, the sun was falling fast, setting the sky ablaze in red and gold. They needed to stop and rest.

Eventually, they found another clearing by the road. Song collected a few fallen branches and built them a fire, enkindling it with an engraved lighter. She didn’t smoke, but it was another one of River’s many heirlooms and trinkets she liked to keep with her. It was like he was with her every step of the way. Her lucky charm.

Though now, she was starting to feel like Kanan was where the real luck came from.

Seated on a rotting stump, as the fire cackled against the descending night, Song finally broke the silence and said, “So, care to finish that story of yours? Never did get to hear what happened next.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

The grenade had been thrown. Eyes pressed shut, all Kanan had to do was wait for the explosion to follow. The explosion that would either be the death of him or the death of the Sarlacc. Hopefully the latter, but he wasn’t holding out hope. Five seconds was not much time.

But apparently, it had been time enough. Kanan could not see the explosion, but he could feel it. The earth beneath him rocked, shaking dirt and rocks loose. A showering of dirt cascaded over him as he opened his eyes. The Sarlacc was dead. Finally. Its terrible shriek of pain pierced Kanan’s ears as he returned to his feet, dusting dirt from his hair and clothes.

Staring down into the abyss as dirt began to fill in and entomb the creature, Kanan hoped it would be a long time until he encountered another Sarlacc. Or maybe forever. Forever would be good.

“I thought so too,” Kanan admitted, brushing some dirt from the Mandalorian’s armor without a second thought. “Never a dull moment with you around, is there?” he smiled.

The next clearing the duo came upon promised a much more enjoyable experience: rest. The ranger was not ashamed to admit that he was in need of some rest and relaxation. It had been an exhausting day. Fighting an Acklay and Sarlacc in one day was not par for the course in his experience.

As River collected wood and built a fire, Kanan unsaddled and fed the tee-musses. He could not help but notice the lighter River used to ignite the flames. There was engraving, too far away for him to distinguish the lettering. Something told Kanan there was a story behind that lighter, and perhaps one day he would get to hear it.

Joining River by the fire, Kanan sat down on the log opposite the Mandalorian and watched him. The fire danced across the Mandalorian’s armor, and it was hard to tear one’s eyes away. “I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. It isn’t much of a story compared to what we just experienced,” Kanan replied. Turning toward the bags the Felucians had packed them, he retrieved something to eat from within.

“I chased that Gungan for close to an hour through one of the bridge cities on Cato Neimoidia. I guess he eventually got tired of running. I know I had. We came to a bridge, and suddenly, he just dove off the side. I don’t know if you’ve ever been to the planet, but it’s hard to see anything through all the fog, especially at night.”

Kanan chuckled at the memory before continuing. “Anyway, I guess he thought he was diving into grasslands below, a risky move from that height, but still a better alternative than what he actually dove into. Most of the planet’s surface is covered in an acidic ocean, and that’s where he ended up. A couple of locals had to help me fish him out of the water. He looked gruesome, but honestly I’m surprised he even survived.”

This felt right. Sitting here, talking to River. Sometimes the ranger forgot how much he missed companionship. Glancing at the food within his hands, he pulled a second helping from within the bag and tossed it across the fire to the Mandalorian. “Here. You need to eat something too. I’ll turn around or go for a walk so you can take a minute to eat.”

@Feng Mian​

 

[Song Wren]

“Still a story,” said Song, who leaned in as he continued.

She laughed hardily as she rolled some imagined footage of his story in her mind. A frame of the Gungan, standing on the edge. A picture of it diving into the fog, with Kanan heaving close behind it, only to plunge into the acidic ocean below. The entire hunt made her burst with laughter. A much needed change of pace after their struggle with the Sarlacc hours ago.

“Wait,” she said, still cracking up, finding it hard to believe the whole story but knowing the Ranger was no liar. “They survived? Incredible. Sometimes, I wonder if Gungans are some of the dumbest sentient beings in the galaxy. Then again, I’ve seen and met a lot of dumb people out there. I mean, there’s only so much stupid one galaxy can hold, no?”

Her laughter continued to echo over the fire. Strange how one minute, she’d be screaming after the Ranger, clawing through the jungle to his rescue. The next, laughing at his side in the warmth of a fire, the star-studded night overhead. Was she starting to like him?

No. She was being ridiculous. Song had no room for real affection, not until she found River justice. What she and Kanan shared was simply an extension of their partnership from before. A small break from all their misadventures.

At the offer of food, and the sealed bag she quickly snatched mid-air over the fire, Song shook her head. “No, I’m good. Not that hungry, not…”

Her stomach rumbled, a noise not even the thick plating of her armor could hide. She sighed, annoyed that her own body had betrayed her so easily, but she played it off. Although Song could wander out into the jungle, find somewhere secluded to eat or relieve herself, she didn’t trust Felucia enough, and neither did she trust Kanan not to follow, or snag a glance.

“I’ll eat when I take first watch,” said Song, hoping that’d be enough. “But don’t let that stop you from eating. Dig in, and if you got anymore stories to tell, shoot.”

It was obvious she was trying to divert the spotlight away from herself, she knew, and Song rather hoped the Ranger accepted her meek excuse and moved with the flow of the conversation.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I promise you it’s true,” Kanan laughed, finding more enjoyment in the sound of River’s laughter over the campfire than the actual recounting of the tale. He had never seen River as relaxed as he was now, and it was good to see.

The Mandalorian declined food, as expected, but his stomach gave him away. Kanan wanted to laugh, but he knew better. He also wanted to insist that the Mandalorian eat something. They were going to need their strenth about them tomorrow, and skipping meals would not help, but he did not do that either.

Kanan had noble intentions. He would have allowed the Mandalorian to eat in peace and privacy. Despite the growing temptation, he would not have looked. But he understood River’s decision, and he would abide by it.

Just the same, eating in front of his friend who, by the sound of his stomach, was as hungry as he himself was did not seem right. If River was to wait and eat on his first watch, so would Kanan. They would both eat while the other slept.

Setting his food down beside him, Kanan smiled and shook his head. “I would rather hear one of your stories. A bounty hunter like you must have dozens, hundreds of interesting stories.”

@Feng Mian​

 

[Song Wren]

It seemed Song wouldn’t be able to escape the limelight now.

She raised her hands, like in surrender, and chuckled. “Okay, alright! Fine. I don’t know if I have hundreds, per se, because I’ve only just started bounty hunting when we last met, but I got a handful. I’ll admit, a little more embarrassing than interesting. Just promise me you won’t tell anyone, okay?”

Song scoffed even at the reminder of some of the shenanigans she experienced across the galaxy. Encounters undeserving of a Mandalorian, but too amusing to ignore. She figured she could trust Kanan not to spread them around to every corner of the galaxy. Maybe.

“So,” she started, and with an old branch she began to poke at the fire. “There was this one time I was pursuing this bounty. A spice-runner in the Jakku system. The puck the Guild gave me said the man was running around the planet in a YT-2000 light freighter. I was patrolling around, knowing I’d spot him eventually and lo and behold, there he was. I hailed him, told him to give it up, but he ignored me.”

“We got into a scuffle then and there. I shot out his engine, but he charged his ship at me and knocked me off-course too. Both of us were sent plummeting down to Jakku. Which, by the way, is probably one of the worst places you can crash-land on. What a dump.”

Song shook her head, growing increasingly flustered. “Anyway, I crawled out the wreckage of my ship, made my way over to his, and we fought there too. To my surprise, he had a lightsaber. Could you believe that? A spice-runner with a lightsaber. Unbelievable. I still fought him, of course. Almost beat him too, but guess what happened next?”

Embers whisked out of the fire and into the night. Song chuckled, embarrassed. “I realized the man wasn’t even the bounty. Totally different person, and a Jedi at that. I felt so goddamn stupid after that. Probably the dumbest mistake I’ve ever made out of all my hunts, next to that speeder bike showdown with Duermo.”

“Of course,” she said, trying to play it off. “I paid off the man’s ship and gave him some good compensation. Even after everything, we left as friends. Kind of. Maybe. As for the spice-runner, I found him too, and that time I made sure it was him.”

She slumped back on her seat, finished. Song hadn't shared that story with anyone, the Guild especially, and it was nice to have it off her chest. Although, she was rather surprised. Not by the story, but how much she spoke. It might've been the most she said anything to anyone in the last year... no, years? Strange, how easy it was to talk to Kanan.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Perhaps the Mandalorian did not have hundreds of stories as a bounty hunter, but Kanan was sure he had more than he admitted. Particularly as a Mandalorian. Being trained as a warrior from such a young age by an elite set of warriors, that in itself promised many tales.

“I won’t tell a soul,” Kanan assured her, “You have my word.” Getting comfortable, Kanan leaned his head back and locked eyes on the Mandalorian, ready to hear this story.

As the story began, Kanan wanted to let the small laugh he was holding deep within his throat escape. The sight of River, one of the strongest, most intelligent men he’d ever met in bis life flustered was amusing. But he did not laugh, and as the story continued laughter was the last thing on his mind.

He listened closely, intent on every word that proceeded from the Mandalorian’s mouth. Kanan had never heard the Mandalorian speak this much, and he was going to enjoy it thoroughly. Who knew if River would grant him this opportunity again?

Surprisingly humble about it, River glossed right over one of the most fascinating, impressive parts of his story. Once River had slumped backward, presumably done with his story, Kanan spoke. “Hold up,” he began, grinning as he leaned forward in his excitement. “You’re telling me you fought a Jedi? Almost beat a Jedi?”

@Feng Mian​

 

[Song Wren]

Song scoffed again, doing her best to stay humble. “I guess I did, but it’s not a big deal. There are many old Mandalorian legends, back when they were still united under a single banner, who fought Jedi like they were common foot soldiers. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Crusades, no? Mandalorian armor, weapons and training was built to fight the Jedi.”

She gestured down to her own armor, or really, River’s. “And this armor here too? It’s not mine. Not really. Though I reforged it to my liking, to fit me in combat, it goes back by centuries. Maybe even a millennia. There have been other men, and women, who have worn this same armor and fought the Jedi too. Their history, blood, sweat and tears live in this. Where I go, they go with me.”

“What I’m saying is that, whether you believe it or not, I like to think I wasn't fighting the Jedi alone, but with the same old Mandalorian legends living through me.”

Song shrugged. Was she drunk? She wasn’t exactly sure why she was spilling on about her culture, her beliefs, to the likes of a Sector Ranger. Then again, maybe it was because she wanted him to know. To understand what she was doing by disguising as her brother, by wearing his armor: so that he could live through her. She almost wanted him to know who she was, under the helmet, but that couldn't happen as long as she was bound by the Creed.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m getting carried away.”

The Mandalorian turned away from him and the fire, staring blankly out into the dark recesses of the jungle. It took her another moment before she finally said, “What about you, Ranger? How do you feel about the Jedi?”

It was a strange topic to steer into, but Song was curious. Her experiences with the Jedi had been, at best, mixed, though skewed towards the positive.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Yes, Kanan had heard the legends. The stories of an elite set of warriors trained specifically to go toe to toe with and defeat Jedi. The Mandalorian’s history was a long and complicated one, as was most of the galaxy’s history. Their history could be traced back thousands of years, even to the days of the Old Republic when they had warred against the Jedi.

Kanan had heard tales of several notable Mandalorians down through the years as well. Sabine Wren, a woman who had led early on in the rebellion against the Galactic Empire. Bo-Katan Kryze who had refused to bow to the Emperor and was subsequently stripped of her coveted position. Satine Kryze who led the Mandalorians into years of peace and diplomacy.

The history of the Mandalorians was as rich as it was diverse, varying with each account and clan. To hear River speak firsthand of it was a pleasure.

When he spoke of his armor, Kanan thought he understood. In a way. River’s armor was more than just armor. It was a legacy, a history. Despite the chips, cracks, and alterations it might sustain over the years, it would always carry the legacy and history of its previous wearers. One day it would carry River’s own legacy and history.

“No need to apologize,” Kanan said. He had enjoyed listening to the Mandalorian speak.

“The Jedi?” he repeated, giving himself a moment to formulate his words. The Jedi also had a long and complicated history. Not all of it pleasant. “Overall, I respect them. I believe they have the galaxy’s best interests at heart. It seems to me that the Jedi of today are a grade above past generations. Perhaps they’re not as skilled in the force or with a blade as the Jedi before the fall of the Republic were, but their ideals are centered. Focused. They don’t adhere to the strict code they used to, and I think they are the better for it.”

Kanan crossed his arms and chuckled. “But then again, it depends on the Jedi. I’m just a ranger looking in from the outside. My opinion doesn’t count for much .”

​

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

Song nodded as he spoke. The Jedi had been sworn enemies to Mandalorians for generations, no less during the Crusades, but they had also been their closest friends. A former Jedi General, Kenobi, had fought side by side with Satine and Bo-Katan Kryze. Another Jedi had likewise worked alongside Sabine Wren, a legendary figure in their clan, in their fight against the Empire.

Song had met several Jedi before too, and she came to understand every one. They all their fears, regrets and beliefs. They always had good intentions in mind. Despite their increasing unpopularity with the public, she harbored a deep respect for them. Like the Rangers, the divide between them and her was purely a political one.

“No, your opinion matters,” said Song. “The rest of the galaxy seems fit to think theirs do.”

She was right. Although the galaxy at large couldn’t understand the Jedi unless meeting one themselves, most had boiled down their opinions of them into fear and uncertainty. All because of a single one’s mistake, all because of a few deaths by an unknown assailant. Song had heard of a bounty on a rogue Sector Ranger. Should his wrongs speak for the every other Ranger out there? No.

The Mandalorian didn’t voice that, however. She simply agreed.

“You’re right though,” she said. “The Jedi are different from how everyone else sees them. Better.”

A short silence fell between them. Song continued to stir the branch, now charred, around in the fire. Fire licked up around the circle of stones, the embers rising out into the night. Before the conversation could evaporate with it, she turned the subject around and asked plainly, “Why did you join the Rangers?”

It was out of nowhere, but Song was curious. Was he picked up at birth, discipled like any other Mandalorian foundling? Had something happened to him to inspire such a strong commitment to justice?

She didn’t want to be nosy, but she wanted to see what made him tick. What made Kanan the man he was today.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Kanan had not expected such a question. A personal question. It had nothing to do with an engaging story or his opinion on a matter such as the Jedi, and it had everything to do with who he was as a person. His emotions. His convictions. His values. Yes, it was a personal question. Personal questions were not often asked of him.

The ranger’s eyes lingered on the hands of the Mandalorian as they prodded around the fire with a charred branch. Kanan could have easily given a shallow, surface level response to the question, but he thought better of it. It had not been a shallow question. It did not deserve a shallow answer.

Perhaps unexpected considering the nature of their first encounter, there was no doubt in Kanan’s mind that their relationship had grown from a rivalry to friendship. A friendship formed through sweat and blood, both their own and that of their enemies. River had saved his life on multiple occasions now.

When that Sarlacc had snatched Kanan from atop his tee-muss, River had torn through the jungle in pursuit of the ranger, as if his own life had depended upon it. The Mandalorian deserved an honest and open answer.

And as Kanan began to speak, he realized that he did not mind being open with the Mandalorian. “My grandfathers were both soldiers,” he began, his dark eyes still focused on the fire before him. “My grandfather fought alongside the Resistance. My great-grandfather alongside the Republic. As a child, I wanted nothing more than to be like them. I wanted to fight and make a difference.

When I was a teenager, I went looking for a fight, and I found one, too. In the Arda System, not far from my own home planet. There was a civil war occurring at the time, a coup against the officials that governed the planet. Seriously outnumbered and under equipped, they were in desperate need of help, and I offered up my services.

“My intentions were not noble,” Kanan continued, shame laced within his tone, his brow furrowing at the memory. “I was not helping those people because they needed it, because it was the right thing to do. I was helping them because I wanted excitement. Adventure. Glory, even. I wanted a fight. I suppose I felt I had to prove myself, as foolish as that seems now.

“All thanks to those people, I grew past that immaturity during my time there. As I fought alongside them, I watched them die. Die for their beliefs, die for the single, simple hope that they were creating a better life for their children and their grandchildren. Their sacrifices meant something. They were fighting for something. I realized that more important than the fight was the reason for the fight. My grandfathers did not deserve my respect because they fought in two galaxy wide wars. They deserved my respect because of what they fought for.

“There is nothing wrong with craving adventure and excitement, so long as there’s meaning behind it. So long as there’s purpose behind it. I learned to look outside of myself and to the bigger picture thanks to those people, and I’ll always be grateful for that lesson.

“The feeling of truly helping those people surpassed any feelings of excitement or adventure I’d experienced at that point, and I realized that I was fortunate to have found purpose so early on in my life. Even so, I wish I had found it sooner.”

Raising his gaze to the Mandalorian’s visor, Kanan continued. “Anyway, the skirmishes lasted about three years, and when victory and freedom had been secured for the people, I left. I knew what I needed to do, but I was unsure of where to go. What others abandon, we protect,” Kanan repeated, the motto that was now forever committed to memory.

“Joining the Sector Rangers was the only option for me. I knew that I would not be content with anything else. Training, discipline, the sole goal of bettering the galaxy. The Sector Rangers were the whole package. It didn’t pay much—still doesn’t,” he chuckled, “But it allowed me to live out the valuable lesson I’d learned, and I’ve never looked back, and I’ve never regretted the decision.”

Smiling, he tossed a loose twig back into the fire. He had spoken quite a bit. Opening up to River oddly felt relieving, though perhaps River did not feel the same way. Kanan would not blame the Mandalorian if he had fallen asleep beneath his helmet. “That was probably a much longer answer than you wanted.”
He cleared his throat. Now that he had answered his question, Kanan did not feel guilty asking his own. River fascinated and intrigued the ranger to no end, and Kanan was sure there was so much more to the Mandalorian’s story, to his very being than Kanan could wrap his head around at the moment. “And what about you? Were you born into your clan or taken in as a child?”

​

​

​

@Feng Mian
​

 

[Song Wren]

His grandfather, his great-grandfather: it seemed the love of battle ran through the family, as it now ran through Kanan’s blood. Like Song, like the armor she wore, there was a deep history that stretched generations behind him, and yet lived through him now. She could relate to that, and relate to his desire for adventure. Although her own reasons to leave Krownest hinged on avenging her brother, it had also been through a wish to see what the galaxy had in store for her.

Song listened intently to the Ranger. She clung to every word, respecting the fact that as she had opened up to him, so was he.

She was interested to hear his story, and what lead him up to that very moment. Though he said much, a part of her almost expected more. Had he not settled down in all those years of battle? Was he like her, hellbent on a goal or so devoted to a purpose that the very idea of dropping anchor somewhere was impossible? Song was tempted to poke further, but figured she might cross a line doing so.

Besides, now it was her turn to spill.

“No answer’s too long,” said Song, leaning back from the fire. “This is our lives we’re talking about. It’s no easy thing to explain.”

She let the branch slip back into the fire as orange light danced in the reflection of her visor. At his question, childhood memories flooded and flashed into mind. Sparring matches with her brother. Arguments with her father. Training with the rest of her kin on Krownest, in the dead of winter and in the middle of nowhere. Where to begin?

Song shook her head. “No, I’m not a foundling. I was born into Clan Wren, on Krownest. I started my training the second I could walk and learn to hold a sword, just like everyone else. My mother was an outsider who married in, so it was my father who trained me. Taught me almost everything I needed to know. Almost everything. There were a few things I had to learn myself.”

She scoffed. Truth was, she had to train on her own constantly, because her father preferred to dedicate his teaching to her brother. He favored River much more, believing that Song was better off doing what her mother did: staying on the sidelines. He didn’t think she was Mandalorian material. At least, not enough to venture out of the galaxy. No matter how hard she fought, it was never enough.

“I hated my father,” she said. “Still do, actually. He’s one of the reasons why I left in the first place, and why I do what I do now. Not to make him proud, of course. Just to prove him wrong.”

Song looked back to Kanan. She ought to have gone further, or asked him a similar question in turn, but she figured it was better to let the conversation flow. If he wanted to know more, she’d say so. If he wanted to share his own experience, she’d listen.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

River had been born a Mandalorian. The life of a Mandalorian was not an easy one. Countless hours of strict, challenging training. In all manner of terrain and weather. Grueling work, meant to break you down and build you back up again. Into a Mandalorian. From birth. To child. To man. To the man that sat before Kanan at that exact moment.

Kanan could not imagine the childhood of a Mandalorian. The difficulty of such an upbringing. He hoped that River experienced as much love throughout that tireless training as he had discipline. Discipline without love was not discipline reaching its full potential.

Sadly, the tone in River’s voice suggested otherwise. Kanan’s heart went out to his friend. “I hated my father” were strong words, and they were spoken with the utmost confidence in their severity and sincerity. Hatred could be a strong motivator, and River had evidently accomplished much since leaving Krownest.

“Not to make him proud, of course. Just to prove him wrong.” Why he hated his father became a bit clearer.

Although Kanan had never been fortunate enough to meet his child, he had been proud of and loved that child even before it had born and done anything to “earn” that love and pride. Simply because it was his child, he was proud.

To think that a father was not proud of his own child, particularly River, was saddening. How could River’s father not be proud of him? He was strong. He was brave. He was intelligent. He was a fierce warrior. He was a man of character, and he was a man of loyalty and conviction. River deserved love and respect. Kanan could think of few who deserved more love and respect than River did.

“I don’t understand,” Kanan voiced, a twinge of anger creeping into his voice. “You're...” At a loss for further words, he settled with, “Well, you. Why would he drive you away from your own home? Surely you are more deserving of the title Mandalorian that most.”

Perhaps Kanan was getting too personal now. He did not know. But he did know he had to ask, and River could always decline to answer the question. Kanan would respect his decision.

@Feng Mian​

 

[Song Wren]

“I’m me?” The Mandalorian laughed. “What, a notorious bounty hunter? A tracker in the Guild? Slayer of Acklay, defender of the people?” Her words descended into a mocking tone the more she went on. “My father wouldn’t give two shits about what I do now. I don’t think anything will change how he thinks of me.”

Song realized she had gone too far and said too much. She never told anyone about the strained relationship she shared with her father, never said that he was the reason she left. She had dug herself into a pit, and there was no clawing her way out of it. Instead, it was further down the rabbit hole. And now, she would have to be much more careful between her truths and her lies.

Else she risked Kanan connecting the dots, or figuring out something he shouldn’t.

So, she settled for the truth. At least, most of the truth.

“I had an older brother. We trained together often, and what my father didn’t teach me, he did. He meant a lot to me.” Song stared in the fire. “Then he died. Senselessly murdered. My father blamed me, because I wasn’t there to protect him, and every day he wished I was the one who died, not him. He hated me because of it. So, I left.”

“But sometimes I wonder if he was right. That I might’ve saved him if I was there to protect him. I don’t know.”

Her words trailed away, finding what more there was to say. The memory of her brother hurt Song more than Kanan might realize. The image of his body being carried through the snow-capped forest of Krownest, to the burial grounds under the shadow of the mountain, was forever ingrained into her mind.

“I may have failed to do that,” Song continued. “But I won’t fail in finding his killer, and giving them the justice they deserve. Not the law’s, not the Guild’s, but mine.”

Song figured that was where their beliefs may have parted, but that was inevitable from the start of their relationship. She was a rogue Mandalorian, a bounty hunter working for the Guild, and Kanan was a Sector Ranger, who only wanted to guard and protect. Still, not wanting to butt heads with him, or fall into an argument, Song rose from her seat by the fire.

“You should probably get some rest, Kanan. I got first watch.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Kanan realized he had gone too far. Crossed an invisible line. Gone past the Mandalorian’s desired boundaries and allowed his curiosity and interest to get the best of him.

The Mandalorian’s mocking tone, his words, his movement— all were understandable reactions. Kanan had forced River to relive memories he did not wish to relive. Memories that were painful. Kanan had forced River not only to dredge up the ghosts of his past and dwell on them but to put them into words. To talk about them.

The death of his brother was still a very fresh wound. How could it not be? River had not just lost an older brother the day his brother died. He had lost a teacher, a friend, a mentor, perhaps even a father figure, considering his strained relationship with his father. All in one day. In one moment. Gone. Forever.

Their companionship, their childhood, their journey together reduced to nothing more than memories. Memories. Both a blessing and a curse.

“I don’t know what to say,” Kanan admitted. “I know it means little to hear, but I am truly sorry for your loss, River. I am sorry that your father blamed you for something that was not your fault. That your father failed to recognize your worth and failed to value you all the more in the wake of your brother’s death.”

Kanan did not enjoy seeing the Mandalorian doubting himself, wondering if he was to blame for his brother’s death. A seed of doubt planted in his mind by his father, still affecting the warrior to this day. A driving force, even, behind his need for revenge.

The desire for revenge was one that Kanan knew all too well. There was much he wished he could say to River, but River was on his feet now, ready to wind the conversation down. River would make his own decision in the end, and Kanan had hope, confidence that he would make the right one, whatever it may be. That he would not be entirely consumed by his need for revenge and forget to live.

Kanan stood and placed both hands on either of the Mandalorian’s shoulders, staring down into his visor. He hesitated, unsure how to formulate his words. In the end, he couldn’t. He settled with, “Eat something, alright?” before settling in, awaiting for sleep to take him.

​

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

“There’s nothing to apologize about,” said Song. “What happened with my father then, doesn’t matter now.”

Song shrugged. She liked to pretend she didn’t care about her father’s feelings, and she didn’t, but it was his words and actions that left its mark on her. Me blamed River’s death on her, and now, a deep piece of her inside, felt responsible to mend that mistake. She’d give her brother justice. Even if some might disagree to call revenge justice, it made no difference to her.

Revenge was simply justice with teeth. And nerve.

The Mandalorian stared at the Ranger, nodded, then watched him settle down to sleep. Naturally, she wouldn’t remove her helmet to eat and refresh until she was certain Kanan was asleep, so she stood from a distance and waited. An hour later, or for what seemed like forever in the lonely quiet, Song moved towards the edge of the clearing, away from the light of the fire, and near a small stream. A cold blanket of shadow wrapped around her.

With two hands, and a soft click, Song removed her helmet.

Strands of her hair fell over her face. She huffed, then undid the thread which held her hair in its casual bun. A cascade of black spilled over her shoulders. After making certain Kanan was not watching from afar, still asleep, and that the stream was not poisonous, she washed her face in the water. Cold. Quietly, she drank and ate, refreshed with every gulp and bite, and stared into the star-studded sky for a while.

Her eyes eventually gravitated back to a resting Kanan. It always did. But not for long.

Song heard a twig snap in the jungle foliage behind her. Immediately, she tucked in her hair and threw her helmet on, not sure what was out there. She pulled her blaster from its holster. As she stepped to the stream’s edge, Song took a closer look into the underbrush on the other side. She turned the flashlight attached the blaster on.

She saw nothing.

Then, a flicker of movement. Dark wings unfurled above her. On top of a tree, a winged creature, a Felucian ripper, towered over her. Under the planet’s two moons, she could see its razor sharp peak, the teeth inside them, and a pair of beaded, red eyes staring directly at her. The ripper shrieked.

The Mandalorian fired.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Sleep came surprisingly fast to the ranger. In one of the most dangerous, unexplored jungles of the Outer Rim—the galaxy even— he had not expected sleep to come quickly. He had expected it to be a struggle. A struggle he was determined to win, but a struggle, nonetheless. Though he was rapidly falling asleep, his ears remained alert. Distant sounds could be heard in the clearing. Sounds of the jungle, of creatures and gently running water, and the endless unknown possibilities that it held. Sounds that would typically keep someone awake, huddled by the fire and wondering what might pop out of the jungle at any moment and kill them. It was not so for Kanan. Perhaps it was the relaxing crackle of the fire nearby that made sleep so easy. Perhaps it was the knowledge that River was close by, watching his back.

His final thoughts before sleep were of River’s brother. His murder. Although different circumstances, Kanan understood all too well River’s need to avenge his brother. Kanan could remember clearly, as if it was yesterday, the feelings of hatred that had coursed through his blood at the sight of his former wife, dead. Lying in her own blood in a filthy Coruscant street. A senseless, unintentional killing that had completely rocked Kanan’s world.

Perhaps worse than the feeling of loss was the feeling of guilt. Kanan would never forget the looks on his wife’s s parents’ faces when he had taken her body back to Arda for a proper burial.

For the longest time nothing occupied his thoughts but bringing her murderers to justice. The courts will deal with them, he had told himself over the course of his hunt. It had been a lie. He knew it had been a lie. He never intended for them to reach a holding cell, let alone a court for sentencing.

River’s need was one Kanan understood, in a way. Different circumstances, different lives, different people—he could never understand it wholly, and visa versa. But he could understand it in part. The galaxy was rife with injustices. Sometimes Kanan did not even know where to begin in righting them. The scales of justice seemed perpetually tipped in favor of the lawless. From time to time, justice... revenge had to be taken into your own hands. Jania’s killers had deserved death, as did River’s brother’s killers.

It was a dangerous line to walk, with many possible consequences, but Kanan understood that it was a line River must walk.

Kanan could have slept for hours if allowed, but blaster fire awoke him. On his feet in a flash, he drew his blaster just in time to see his Mandalorian companion firing at a shadow above the clearing.

​

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

Dark wings, dark shadows. The Felucian ripper opened its razor beak, its teeth like a hundred knives, and plunged its head towards her. Song dodged to the side. Every shot she had fired hardly put a dent in the creature, either missing or leaving burnt holes in its left wing. She meant to kill, only to provoke. If the Mandalorian hoped to kill it, she’d have to bring it much closer.

Which, naturally, she’d done.

The ripper swooped down with its talons to grab her by the shoulders and lift her into the sky. Song blasted the creature as it descended. An easy target, and she littered it with blaster bolts. The winged beast screamed, a bloodcurdling cry into the night, but continued its dive towards her.

At the last second, Song jumped into the ground, losing her blaster but keeping her life. The bird swept right over her head, before it slammed into the dirt. Dead. She was mildly surprised at how quick that was, but glad it was over with, and with careful steps she moved to the ripper’s smoking husk, her back turned from the stream.

She didn’t reach it in time. Not when a pair of claws took her by the shoulders.

Another bird had her, and was now raising her from the ground. Hands full of nothing, Song thrashed desperately around to free herself. No change. It was only when she pulled her ceremonial blade from its sheath and slashed it through the creature’s legs that it let go. Green blood splattered her helmet as she plummeted what might’ve been two stories to the ground.

She hit it hard, but rolled to cushion her landing. As if fate would have it, Song landed right by the fire, back to where Kanan was undoubtedly awake and reeling. With the flourish of her blade, which spat away a bit of the ripper’s blood, she turned to the Ranger.

“It appears we have some company.”

Above them, several more winged creatures circled the camp. It seemed like Felucia was hellbent on killing them both, but Song couldn’t care less. If she had to kill each kind of every beast on the planet, then she would.

@llamallove