Ask Sundered Nests

[Song Wren]

The shot had come out of nowhere, throwing the Fang-class transport aside like a tidal wave might a sailboat, before it hurled to the ground and shattered against the pines.

Song only remembered the alarms screaming in her ears, the flashing lights across the cockpit dashboard, and the sound of rending timber and metal. It was a terrible feeling. As if these would be the last moments of her miserable life. But it wasn’t. Instead, once the ship had finished rolling through the trees and snow, she found that she was still in one piece. Alive.

As she unbuckled out of the pilot’s seat and stumbled into the ship’s cabin, her eyes searched desperately around the wreckage. Smoke filled her vision. Her head was throbbing, and blood trickled down the side of her neck. This couldn’t be happening. Where was she? No, more importantly, where was Kanan?

She called his name, but her throat was dry and the ringing in her ears wouldn’t go away. It was impossibly hard to see, and before long, Song was stumbling out into the open, hands plunging into the snow. She coughed, tasting the crisp, fresh mountain air that was common on Krownest. “Kanan?” she mumbled again, ashamed by how weak her voice sounded.

Song looked up to the frozen sky. Grey smoke was billowing out from the wreck. It was only a matter of time before the people who shot them down would arrive and finish the job. Her father, Ghent, had said these rebels were a troublesome thorn in his side, but she hadn’t expected them to be this dangerous. Of course, they were not ordinary marauders or bandits. These rebels were her own people, outcasts from the Wren clan.

They were Mandalorians.

She had to find Kanan. They had to leave now.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

The Sector Ranger had been standing over the holomap table, attempting to familiarize himself with the planet of Krownest when the shot had struck the ship, tearing through metal and sending the transport crashing to the earth below. The next thing Kanan could remember was an immense weight against his torso, warm blood running down his arm, and a throbbing head. Blinking a few times, he opened his eyes. The table had come loose during the crash and pinned him to the wall, the blue holomap it projected flickering on and off.

It was difficult to hear anything other than the ringing in his own ears and the resounding shriek of the transport's alarm, but he could swear he heard someone saying his name. Was he slipping into unconsciousness? Or had he already? Perhaps this was a dream, another nightmare that he would awake from any moment now. Smoke began to fill the entire ship, creeping out of every hole and crevice of the vessel and clouding his vision. His mouth and nostrils began to fill with the fumes, and he coughed violently. This was not a dream.

Lying there would accomplish nothing because he would not be waking up from this. If he didn't escape the ship soon, he would succumb to smoke inhalation. Where was Song? Had she made it out or was she also trapped somewhere within the transport? He had to find out. Pressing his hands firmly against the smoldering table, Kanan slowly inched it up and slipped out from underneath its weight. Releasing his grip, the table once again collapsed to the floor with a thud.

Now to find Song. It was nearly impossible to see anything through the gathering smoke. The flashing red lights above provided very little in the way of lighting, but he managed to feel his way to the cockpit. It was empty. Perhaps that meant Song had escaped? He hoped that was the case. He didn't want to imagine the alternative. Turning, he pressed a hand to his aching stomach and moved toward the only light of significance. The light of day that shone through the hole that been blown into one side of the ship.

Stumbling out into the snow, his eyes adjusted to find his hopes materialized ahead of him. Song was knelt down in the snow, a few feet away from the wreckage. Relief washed over him, and he breathed an audible sigh of relief. Was this his life now? Would he continue to worry about Song Wren every day for the rest of his life? He had a feeling the answer was yes. And not just because trouble had a way of finding her.

"Are you alright?" Kanan asked as he approached her, his concern only growing when he spotted the blood that stained her new armor.

At least she was alive. That was what mattered, and keeping her that way. He looked back over his shoulder to the wreckage that had been a fully functioning transport ship only a few moments ago. Whoever had shot them down would be back soon to make sure they were dead. If Kanan knew one thing about Mandalorians, it was that they didn't leave a job unfinished.

If they wanted to get out of this alive, they needed to get to the tree line. To cover. Out here in the open they were sitting ducks Krownest was beautiful in its own right, but Kanan did not want to die here. At least not yet.

"Come on," he said, reaching a hand down to help Song to her feet if she chose to take it. "We need to get to cover before they come back. Can you walk?"

If they were lucky and the snowfall was heavy enough, the snow would cover their tracks before their attackers arrived, indicating that Song and Kanan had perished in the crash. At least long enough for the two of them to get the jump on their would-be murderers.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

Song’s head whipped toward the sound of his voice. She instinctively reached for her blaster, but at seeing Kanan's face, the rosy bloom in his cheeks, her muscles relaxed. Relief washed over her like a healing salve. But when she saw the blood on his arm, her heart stuttered. He must have bruised a rib, or worse. The very thought made her skin prickle, and the next thing she knew, Song was reaching out to him, checking to see if he was okay. Perhaps she was being delirious, or suffering from a concussion, but she had the odd desire to hug him.

Instead, she shook her head and mumbled, “I’m okay. Nothing broken, at least that I know of yet. I’m just glad you’re alive. I thought you… I don’t know. I thought I’d lost you for a moment.”

She turned toward the wreckage. Her father had given her that intercepter for this particular mission. Now, it was a smoldering ruin, billowing smoke out into the sky and broadcasting their location for everyone within a fifty mile radius. Soon enough, the clearing would be swarmed with the enemy. Neither of them could afford to waste another moment, so when Kanan extended his hand to her, Song grabbed it without a second thought.

Snow began to fall in earnest. It would serve to cover their tracks as they hiked toward the tree line, but Song found it impossibly hard to see through the haze of white. At one point, she nearly stumbled over a rock. And in the next, the branch of a tree lashed across her vision, pine needles bristling against her helmet. Nothing got through her armor, but she feared for Kanan. Although he’d come decked in armor and thick furs, he probably wasn’t used to the cold storms that swept her planet.

Even if they managed to escape the rebels, would they survive alone in the wilderness?

Song tried not to think that far ahead. Already she could hear the distant roar of jetpacks in the sky, the shouting. The enemy was closing in on the wreckage. Once they found no bodies to pick, they would likely search the area, and she didn't intend to be anywhere nearby. So, clinging to Kanan, limping alongside him, she pushed on through the forest. “We have to keep going,” she said to him. “Stop for nothing. Because if we die, it’ll be your burden to bear in the next life.”

It was a bad time to be making jokes, but she figured a sense of humor might help relieve the tension that came with being pursued by a band of homicidal Mandalorians.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Due to the unfortunate, untimely, and unexpected circumstance they found themselves, expedience was in order. Song took the arm offered to her without a second thought. There was a time when she would not have done that.

"You can't get rid of me that easily," Kanan replied, helping her to her feet. His words were light-hearted, but his tone was anything but. He was still recovering from their close encounter with death. Hopefully, it would be the duo's one and only close encounter with death that day, but in the back of Kanan's mind he knew that neither of them would be so fortunate. More danger and peril were destined to befall them before nightfall. What else was new?

Side by side the Mandalorian and the Ranger hiked through the snowfall and toward the nearest tree line. Glancing over his shoulder, Kanan observed that the falling flakes were, in fact, covering up their tracks. That was one point in their favor. He supposed, somewhat reluctantly, that you had to look for the positives in a situation such as this, however difficult that might be.

It was bitterly cold, and the howling wind felt as if it cut right through clothing and skin to the very bone. Against his wishes and despite his protests, Song had insisted that he bundle up with thick furs before they had set out on this mission. Now that the two of them were stranded in this frozen wasteland, he was glad to be wearing them. But he would never admit that to Song.

In the distance, carried by the howling wind that swept across the tundra, the sound of jetpacks could be heard. Their attackers weren't far. The sound was a needed reminder, urging them to press on, no matter what. No matter how hard the wind blew, the snow fell, or the branches of pine trees cut into their skin. At least the cold numbed some of the injuries they had sustained during the crash.

Song voiced the sentiment already in his head, reinforcing it. "Keep going."

She was still cracking jokes. That was either a good sign or the voice of false bravery. Knowing the Mandalorian warrior beside him, it was quite possibly both.

"Do you have any idea where we are?" he asked her eventually, wondering how long she would be able to press on with her limp.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

“Not far enough.” It was a vague, unconvincing answer, because the truth was, Song hadn’t an inkling of an idea where they were. She’d been running hard for the last half hour now, driving deep into the pines. They had to be miles from the wreckage, probably safe enough to stop and rest, but she didn’t dare risk it. These people were not only Mandalorians, but they were from her own clan. Family, foundlings, and worst of all, hunters. They’d lived and breathed Krownest their whole lives, whereas Song had only just returned after years of traveling the galaxy.

This wilderness was theirs.

She kept on for a while longer, heading where she hoped was west. The snowfall could play tricks on your senses this deep in the forest and the compass installed in her helmet, alongside her scouting HUD, had broken during the crash. It was nearly dark, and Song was beginning to feel the stirrings of real panic. When the sun set, so would the temperatures. The Mandalorian wasn’t sure how long Kanan, furs or not, could last through the night.

Neither was she so sure about herself. Not with a limp.

“What we need right now is to find shelter. I’m not sure if—“ The words died in her mouth as she fell face forward and into an icy stream. She gasped as freezing cold water sank into the cracks of her armor, then she swore internally. As if things couldn’t have gotten worse. But of course, they always did.

A jetpack howled above them, the sound dangerously close by. Had they managed to track them down already? No, she thought. They hadn’t spot them yet, else there would be more than just one man. She turned to Kanan, only one word on her mind. “Hide.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

In other words, she has no more idea where we are than I do, Kanan thought to himself with a frown. His dark eyes stared around at the forest that surrounded them on every side, straining to see anything clearly through the heavy snowfall that obscured his vision. On a planet completely foreign to him, he was completely lost.

With this thought in mind, he amended his original conclusion. Well, maybe she has a little more idea than I do.

Song had been born on Krownest. It was her homeworld, the planet she'd grown up playing and training on. She was well acquinted with the terrain, the wildlife, and the weather. Kanan would follow her lead. Even if she didn't know where she was going, she still had a better natural instinct for this planet's harsh surface than he did.

One thing he did know was that it would be dark soon. The sun was sinking fast, disappearing beyond the pine trees and the horizon. The warmth its rays provided would soon be gone, and the Mandalorian and Ranger would be left in the dark and the coldness therein. The cover of darkness would help conceal them from the warriors than hunted them, but that would be no favor if they froze to death.

Abruptly, Song tripped and fell face into a stream that wound its way through the forest.

"Are you alright?" Kanan asked. "I don't know if you should be walking. Your leg is injured."

He stooped down to help her up from the water. There was no alternative, however. Injured as her leg was, if they stopped now they ran the risk of being found. The stream must have been as cold as ice, and he shivered at the thought of it seeping into the cracks of her armor and soaking the skin. He considered placing one of the furs she had given him around her, for all the help it would do, but any such chivalry was cut short by the sound of a jetpack circling above.

Hide was the only sound that followed, and Kanan did just that, disappearing into the shadows the pine trees provided as the sun continued to set.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

At the offer of Kanan’s hand, she climbed to her feet, rising from the cold waters of the stream. Ice cracked beneath her boots. She swore under her breath, afraid that the Mandalorian searching above the trees may have heard them, and that fear was only confirmed as she saw a beam of light arc through the canopy.

Song staggered toward the trees. The ache in her leg was terrible, the water in her gloves even worse, but she could bear the pain as long as it meant evading capture.

According to her father, the rebels were a band of religious fundamentalists. They were cruel, ruthless, and if she was captured, she’d likely be tormented for information, or worse, Kanan would be. And what could he possibly give them? The moment they realized he was a Sector Ranger, an outsider, they’d probably dump him into a frozen lake and let the cold take him.

That thought drove her forward. As the light and noise of the jetpack neared, she practically dove into a clutter of bushes, frosted with snow and blooming red. It took her a moment to spot Kanan meters away, camouflaged among the pines. She locked eyes with him. Raising a finger above her lips, or at least where they would typically be, Song slowly shook her head. Spoken words weren’t needed to understand what she was saying.

Don’t. Move.

A pair of boots crunched in the snow nearby. More sleet continued to pour down from the sky, and Song prayed it was enough to disguise her tracks. For a long moment, all she could do was hold her breath and wait. The steps came closer. And closer. Slowly, she began to reach for her knife, ready to plunge it into a neck, an ankle, anything to bring the enemy down.

Then a wolf emerged.

Grey furred and matted with snow, it growled as the Mandalorian approached the underbrush. Song saw the man jump back, gripping his blaster, before they laughed coldly. Muffled static cackled from his helmet. Voices, she realized.

“Valerian checking in,” said the rebel. “Everything’s clear on my end. Returning back to base now.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

While Song and Kanan stumbled to conceal themselves in the overgrowth of the forest, the Mandalorian rebel walked confidently in their direction, his flashlight searching the tree line for any signs of movement It was two to one, and yet they were still outnumbered. Together, they could have easily taken him by surprise. Like any Mandalorian, he would put up a good fight, but he wouldn't last long. But it made no difference. If they killed one, it was only a matter of time until even more of them showed up. The static of comm silence would give them away.

Song could use the voice scrambler installed inside of her helmet to disguise her voice and report back to the rebel's comrades, but that would not buy them much time either. The dead rebel's body would be discovered. No matter how this played out, the two of them were at a disadvantage. That was nothing new to the Sector Ranger, but it certainly wasn't a situation he reveled in. Especially when he was this cold.

Does Song even have a voice scrambler in her new helmet? he wondered, locking eyes with her as her helmet slowly shook back and forth. He understood her meaning perfectly: Don't. Move.

She wasn't going to make a move unless absolutely necessary, and neither would he. He kept himself pressed against the thick, scaly bark of the towering pines as the light swept one direction and then the next. The rebel's boots crunched in the sludge and snow, inching their way toward the berry bush Song had flung herself into.

As the rebel's footsteps grew closer, Kanan held his breath to avoid making a sound. His hand hovered over the blaster pistol at his side, his thumb gliding across the handle. He only hoped he wouldn't need to use it.

A sudden, guttural growl caught the Ranger's attention. He watched with eyes wide as a wolf emerged from the darkness, its mouth drawn back to reveal long, sharp fangs. The wild animal caught the rebel's attention, too, startling him briefly. Then he laughed at himself and reported back to his comrades.

Silently, Kanan peered around the pine tree. The rebel was walking away from them now, back toward the stream that Song had fallen into. Turning his searchlight off, he initiated his jetpack, the propulsion carrying him from the forest and into the darkening sky. While the sound of the jetpack slowly faded into nothing more than the howl of the wind, Kanan drew his blaster pistol and stepped out from hiding.

He had no intention of shooting the wolf if it could be avoided. The sound of blaster fire might be carried by the wind and give away their location. But he could try to knock the beast over the head with the barrel, as ridiculous as that idea sounded in his head. Perhaps neither would be necessary.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

Song watched with surprised relief as the Mandalorian shot back through the trees and into the snowy sky, disappearing at the sight of the grey wolf. It was short of unbelievable. As poor as her luck was, it seemed finally to be taking a turn for the better, at least, until the wolf’s snout turned on her. She tensed. Stepping out from the twine of bushes, she felt herself being pushed back into the clearing beside Kanan.

This wasn’t just any ordinary wolf. It was much larger, with twice as many bared teeth, and while it wasn’t close to the size of those native to Lothal, they were considered sacred among her people. They symbolized the most perfect hunter, the most loyal warrior, in service to the pack. Song couldn’t help but wonder why this particular wolf was out alone, then she spotted them.

Eyes watching her from the trees. Almost seven pairs of white, identically fanged teeth.

Song let go of her knife. As she limped closer to Kanan, realizing they were surrounded, she whispered to him, “It’s okay. Put the blaster away.” She felt stupid asking. They couldn’t just surrender to a pack of wolves, and neither could they simply shoo them away and back into the wilderness. A hunter would fight. A warrior would stand their ground. But a Mandalorian? A Wren?

She knelt into the snow. Her legs ached and the numbness in her fingers were beginning to turn into pain, but she didn’t care. Song lowered her head, leveling her eyes with the wolf’s, staring hard through the cold, emotionless mask of her helmet. She didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. The Mandalorian only stared and, after a minute, slid over a bundle of hard jerky.

Her emergency rations.

The wolf approached, never once pulling back its teeth. But instead of planting them into her neck and drawing blood, the animal picked up the offered food. Then, surprisingly, it stalked away. The rest of its pack followed, hungry eyes vanishing into the dark. Song nearly collapsed onto Kanan in exhaustion.

“That should hold them off,” she managed to say, letting out a ragged breath. “For now.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

They were outnumbered, surrounded by glowing eyes on every side. It wasn't in the nature of a wolf to travel alone, without his pack, and this wolf was no exception.

"Put the blaster away?" he muttered back, his eyes only straying from the wolves long enough to shoot Song a baffled look. For a moment he wondered if he could have misheard her, but as she knelt down into the freezing snow and lowered her head toward the beast, he realized that she was serious. She offered the wolf a bundle of jerky, her visor maintaining constant eye contact with the animal. She was trying to communicate with this wolf—bargain with it, even. Had the frost driven her mad? This was a wild animal, a predator with natural instincts to kill, not a person that could be reasoned with.

The sight of her kneeling as she attempted to reason with this wolf with snowflakes falling all around her would have been pictorial if it were not for the danger she was in. The scene reminded Kanan of some princess holodrama he had once seen in passing on a transport.

Contrary to his better judgement and the urge to pull Song away, Kanan followed her instructions. She'd saved his skin more times than he could count. "Whatever you say, princess," he replied, holstering his pistol with a slow, intentional motion to avoid startling the beast with any sudden movement. He couldn't help but keep his hand near the weapon, just in case.

The seconds that followed seemed to stretch on forever, the silence more unbearable than the cold as the wolf approached Song, his sharp fangs on full display the entire time. Would he lunge for her? Sink his teeth into the chinks of her amour and tear at the skin? Kanan's heart raced at the thought, his fingers itching to redraw the blaster at his side and shoot the animal before it could take another step toward her. Instead he watched, hoping desperately that Song knew what she was doing.

She did, as usual. With bewilderment, the Ranger watched as the predator took the easy meal, sinking his teeth into the bundle of jerky and turning around. One by one, the glowing eyes and white fangs of the other wolves disappeared into the forest, lost to the snow and the howl of the wind.

"That was... certainly something," Kanan stated, still shaking his head in amazement as he crouched down beside Song, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to help steady her and ward off the wind. "You continue to impress."

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

“By the way,” said Song, once the wolves were out of earshot. “Call me princess again, and this fist is going to give you a very unprincess like bruise under your eye.” She would leave it up to him to decide whether she was joking or not. It wasn’t like Song hated the idea of royalty, but she’d never been one for nicknames, let alone princess. She was a warrior daughter of Wren, not a coddled, pampered lady from the Core Worlds dressed in jewels and drinking champagne.

“I’m a Mandalorian,” she added, in reply to his last comment. “Impressing people is just part of my job.” Song laughed softly, but the mere intake of breath made her lungs ache. The temperatures were dropping at a significant rate. They needed to find shelter, warm up, and more importantly, survive until dawn. This wasn’t Felucia, where the nights were tropical and cool. This was Krownest, where the very air you breathed could kill you during a winter’s night.

Song, despite her limp, guided Kanan forward. She made sure not to face plant into the icy stream again, stepping through it and toward something of a deep cavern. “I learned it from my father,” she continued, hoping a story might keep her conscious and awake. “I had ventured outside alone one day and strayed off the path into the forest. I was six, I think, but the wolves didn’t care. To them, I was like a slice of smoked venison.”

“Wolves are considered sacred to Clan Wren. We are taught from childhood not to kill them, especially for sport. So, what my father did was lower himself to them. He stared at the pack leader for what felt like an eternity, before sliding them a hare he’d trapped that morning.” Song shook her head, as if remembering that day in vivid detail. “Of course, no supper that night for me. I like to think that was where my streak of bad luck began.”

She felt stupid talking this much. Especially when she was literally freezing to death. But she needed to stay focused, aware of her surroundings.

As they neared the entrance to the mysterious cavern, she turned to Kanan and asked, “Do you still have your emergency rations?” She prayed he did. Even if she managed to overcome hypothermia, there was still the threat of starvation to consider.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

"Yes, ma'am," the ranger replied, somehow finding it in himself to smile despite the bitterly cold conditions eating away at every fiber of his being. Jokes aside, Kanan knew the Mandalorian meant every single word. It was very much in her nature to settle disagreements with the end of her fist. She'd left him bruised before, it wasn’t hard to imagine she would do it again. Some day, if he was feeling particularly brave, he might try the forbidden nickname out again. Not because there was any truth to it. Just to tick her off.

Kanan glanced over his shoulder once more, just to make sure that the wolves weren't stalking them from behind. You can say that again, he thought to himself when she said that "Impressing people is just part of the job."

Song proved her resilience once again, rising to her feet and leading the way through the forest as they continued to search for shelter of some kind. They were both freezing, but Kanan feared the Mandalorian had the worst of it. Falling face first into the icy stream had done her no favors. Soaked to the bone, he was surprised that she was able to keep her teeth from chattering as she told him a story from her childhood.

He always enjoyed listening to her talk, even if she was only opening up to keep herself alert. It didn't really matter what topic she chose, but it was nice to hear her talk about her childhood with some fondness. It was good to know that it hadn't all been bad.

As darkness fell over the frozen world, so did the temperatures. The two wanderers would not last much longer if they didn't find shelter quickly, and they were both painfully aware of that fact. Mother nature constantly reminded them. Call it what you will—luck or fate—but they were brought to a cavern naturally carved into the side of a mountain.

Stepping into the mouth of the cave, Kanan was considering what their next steps would be when Song asked him a question. "Yes," he answered, handing her his bundle of rations. It was a considerably smaller portion than hers, but it would have to do.

"We need to build a fire," he said after that, his tone matter-of-fact. He had considered the possibility that smoke would alert the rebels to their presence, but after some consideration had discarded that notion. It was dark out, and the snow was falling heavily. Smoke would most likely be lost to the snow and the howling wind. It was a risk worth taking, considering the alternative was to turn into popsicles. He had flint, or they could use the flamethrower on Song's gauntlet. All they needed was some kindling.

"I'll search for kindling while you stay here and warm up." Before she could voice any sort of protest, he added, "You're the one that’s soaked, not me. And it shouldn't take long to find some sticks. We're in the middle of a forest, after all." He offered her a lopsided smile at that.

Peering over her shoulder into the dark cavern, he concluded with, "But first let's search the cave, make sure there's nothing lurking in here."

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

At his suggestion, Song nodded sagely. “Good idea. Last thing either of need right is now is another wild animal to stalk out of the dark threatening to eat us.” She moved deeper into the cavern, raising a gauntleted fist. With a simple click, the tip of her flamethrower sparked to life, shedding light on the still shadows, searching for what was hiding there. Her breath caught at what she found.

There was peat and dry kindling scattered in the corner, circled by several bear pelts and fur blankets. A former resting spot. But that wasn’t why she was so anxious by the sight. It was the decomposing body that lay among them.

“Gods,” she whispered, and saw that the body was thin, their skin grey and sallow, the bones underneath poking out. Song knelt beside them, trying to examine their features, or the clothes they wore. They looked painfully young. “I think it’s a lost hunter, maybe a crash survivor. I don’t see armor, so I doubt they’re Mandalorian.” But she wasn’t sure. For all she knew, this could be a child, sent out into the wilderness during the harsh trials Clan Wren undertook every year.

Song had been nine when she was forced out into the mountains. She’d barely survived the first night, and there were stories of those who hadn’t been so lucky.

She didn’t want to stay here. The whole cave reeked of grief and decay, but she knew that going back outside in the dead of night would kill them both, just as it had this stranger. So, she only turned to Kanan and said, “Can you help me bury him?” It was an odd request, but Song didn’t want to sleep beside a corpse. Better for the permafrost to take them. At least then, they might join the same earth that housed their ancestors, and perhaps, their family.

With or without Kanan’s help, Song would take the body out of the cave and into the howling night. Carefully, even if she was starting to feel the beginnings of frostbite in her fingers, she dug out a place in the snow. It wouldn’t be a proper burial, but it would be one regardless.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Bear pelts and fur blankets were scattered around one corner of the cave, as well as dry peat moss and kindling. Kanan wouldn't need to search through the woods for dry kindling after all. All the makings of a fire and blankets to keep them warm until daylight arrived and the snowstorm died down had conveniently fallen into their lap. It was another stroke of good luck. It was almost too good to be true, leading Kanan to wonder what calamity would have to befall them next to balance this out. The pair of them were never this lucky.

Amongst the blankets and furs laid his answer, or perhaps a small part of it. A dead corpse, possibly of a child. There was no way to tell. Kanan approached the body to examine it, crouching down. As a Sector Ranger, it was in his nature to examine the corpse of a man who had died under mysterious circumstances.

"It's difficult to tell how long he's been here," he thought to himself aloud, his eyes wandering over the unfortunate corpse. "Not without the proper equipment anyway. Cold conditions decrease the rate of decomposition. Sometimes they even halt the process completely. Insects are key to this process. They can reduce a corpse to nothing but bones in a matter of weeks, but you're not going to find a lot of insects out here...

"I don't see any signs of a struggle, but that doesn't necessarily rule it out. I'm surprised no scavengers have wandered into the cave and eaten on..." As he glanced over to Song kneeling across from him, his words faded to silence, and he wondered why he had said all of that out loud.

"Of course I'll help you bury him," he said instead, wrapping the body with the pelt it had been lying on. As Song carried the corpse outside of the cave and into the storm, Kanan followed her in silence. He should have offered to bury the body himself, but Song would never have agreed to it. She would not sit idly by in the comfort of the cave while an outsider buried the body of one of her own, of a Mandalorian.

There were no shovels or hoes at their disposal, so they would be forced to do this the old fashioned way. The two of them knelt down in the snow and began to brush the blanket of white away, digging into the wet soil beneath with nothing but their bare hands. No words passed between them as they carried out their work, not even as their fingers began to grow numb from the cold.

And whenever the unpleasant but necessary task was finished, Kanan would stand and wipe his hands off on his pants. "I'll go get the fire going," he murmured.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

Outside, they buried the body in the snow. No words were exchanged or said. Song worked in silence, even as the cold dug into her skin, into bone. And when they both were done, the snow resettling over the grave, she slowly rose to her feet. The skies had cleared, the worst of the storm having disappeared, and a million stars hung above them like a blanket. It was startlingly beautiful, and only served to worsen her heartache.

She whispered a prayer over the grave. Then, finished, she nodded toward Kanan. “Thank you.”

Once he returned into the cave, Song went out to the pines and collected several wild berries from the underbrush. Poisonous nightshade. She wondered if the nameless body they had just buried wasn’t a result of malnutrition, or hypothermia. They had a proper fire, plenty of furs, and the forest wasn’t completely barren of wildlife. Catching a rabbit in a snare was something even the youngest among her clan could do. So, why had this one in particular died anyway?

Tradition, she thought. When she’d been training under her father, faced with brutal conditions and discipline, Song had considered one day just leaving. Not for the stars, but right into the forest. Death just seemed better company than life as a Mandalorian. She’d been robbed of her childhood, after all, thrown into the mountains in order to ‘learn’. Becoming a warrior and carrying the torch of Clan Wren was just a crushing responsibility, let alone to a child.

Maybe this one had thought the same. Maybe this one, unlike her, chose the simplest way out.

Song didn’t want to think about it anymore. She stood, scattering the berries over the freshly dug grave, and returned to the grotto. Inside, the fire was smoking, the light casting her shadow across the cavern walls. There was small murals carved into the stone, cave art likely made by the previous tenant. She couldn’t help but study them, before plopping into the nest of pelts beside Kanan.

“We should wait until dawn. Hopefully, we can return to what’s left of the ship and send out a distress beacon. If not, we may have to travel back to the Wren stronghold on our own.” She jabbed a stick at the fire, her teeth chittering. “That’s a month’s worth of hiking.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Kanan didn't know anything about Mandalorian customs concerning the burial of their dead, but it wasn't difficult to come to the realization that Song would want some time alone with the body. To say goodbye to her fallen brother, whoever he might have been.

Inside the cave, Kanan got to work. As a child growing up on the forest moon of Yavin 4, camping had become second nature to him at an early age. The majority of his adolescent years had spent outdoors, wandering the forest alone or tagging along with his older brother whenever he would allow it. His home world was nothing like Krownest, however. Krownest was a planet of perpetual ice and snow. It was not a harsh planet.

The urge to retreat into the corner of the cave and wrap himself with the blankets and bear pelts and not move was strong, but if they wanted to still have all of their digits come morning, they would need more than blankets. They would need a fire.

Gathering the dried sticks and peat in the dark, he arranged them within the stones that had already been carefully placed in a circle to keep a fire contained. Digging around in his pockets, his cold fingers brushed against the flint and pulled it out. It was only a few minutes until a fire illuminated the cave, bouncing off its walls.

Kanan settled near the fire and held his hands to it, relishing in the heat it provided. Slowly and gradually he could feel the warmth of the fire beginning to spread through his body. It was still cold out, but the extreme conditions were beginning to become bearable.

It wasn't long until Song rejoined him, also settling near the fire to warm up. Perhaps it was not their fate to be reduced to popsicles after all.

"We'll need to watch our backs," Kanan replied while Song jabbed at the fire with a loose stick, stoking the embers. He watched the flames dance across her visor. "And be ready for a fight. The distress beacon might alert more than just Clan Wren to our location. Those rebels might come looking for us again, and that beacon would lead them right to us."

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

“And then we would have a slaughter on our hands,” she continued after him. Kanan was right. Activating the distress beacon could alert Clan Wren to their location, and perhaps they’d send a shuttle to rescue them, but what was to stop the rebels from intercepting them like the last time? They might not only end up capturing her and Kanan, but killing their would-be rescuers. That was the last thing Song wanted right now: more spilled blood.

But what more could they do? Wait to freeze to death?

She dropped the stick into the fire, watching the light flicker as it burned black. “We don’t have a choice. There’s not enough rations between us to last a month. Going back to the ship is a risk we’re just going to have to take.” She shrugged. They had come to this side of Krownest to fight the rebels, after all. If this beacon would lead to a full blown battle, then she supposed it was meant to happen. She would be ready to fight.

Song reached her hands toward the fire. Her fingers had taken on a deep, bruised purple, and she realized frostbite had begun eating at her skin. Just moving them hurt. The cold water from the stream also still clung to her armor, crusting the metal with ice, and no matter how close she was to the fire, it didn’t seem to be helping. Because her armor and undersuit was soaked through, she was slowly freezing to death. If Song didn’t act quickly enough, hypothermia would take her in her sleep.

She stood. Then, in earnest, she began shedding pieces of her armor. First her helmet, then her gauntlets, followed by her shoulder pauldrons. It was not until she was only in her soaked undersuit did she look at Kanan and say, “Well, what are you waiting for?” She gestured toward the end of the cave. “Stare at a wall or something.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

"I don't doubt we'll have a slaughter on our hands," he chuckled gravely, quirking an eyebrow. "The only question is who'll be doing the slaughtering and who'll be getting slaughtered?"

Outnumbered and stranded on this frozen world, the two of them were at an insurmountable disadvantage. They'd both taken a beating from the crash, they were almost out of rations, and they were frozen to the bone, but Song was right. They didn't have a choice. If turning the ship's distress beacon on was a suicide mission, wandering out into the snow in search of Wren Stronghold was a death sentence. Neither of them were dressed properly, and their rations would be depleted in a matter of days, possibly hours.

Activating the distress signal was their last hope. Their only hope, like it or not.

If they were destined to die here, better to die fighting than to freeze to death. Of course, he didn't want to die. More than anything, he didn't want Song to die. The thought alone was enough to form a knot in his stomach. They had survived suicide missions before, and they could do it again. All they needed was a plan.

"We've both got rifles. Once we've activated the beacon we could move to higher ground. Pick them off one by one, from a safe distance," Kanan reasoned, glancing up at Song.

The rest of the plan died on his lips the moment she took her helmet off and revealed the woman beneath. It was silly, to still be mesmerized with her the way he was. It was... foolish, and yet he couldn't help it, much less explain it. He reminded himself that he had seen her face before, especially over the past couple of weeks, but it did no good. He was still unable to articulate his next words, nor could he find it in himself to tear his eyes away from her.

Her dark hair tumbled from her helmet, and the light from the fire shone in her eyes. Her features were nothing less than enchanting, alluring even. Perhaps one day he would not be so captivated by her, but today was not that day.

Kanan cleared his throat, finding his words again. "We won't be able to hold our position forever," he continued, his eyes never straying from her, watching every movement as she continued to remove the rest of her Mandalorian armor, piece by piece. "But perhaps just long enough to level the playing field before we fight close quarters."

Song gestured toward the end of the cave, her voice apprising him of the fact that he had been staring. A sudden warmth flooded his entire body, and it wasn't from the fire.

"Right. I'm sorry," he instantly replied, turning around to face the wall of the cave. Heat began to spread across his neck, but at least now his back was to her. What was wrong with him? Searching for anything that might distract him from the woman standing behind him, he reached down to play with the edges of his right boot.

"What do you think? About the plan, I mean?"

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

“You’re fine.”

Song stripped off the rest of her clothes, undergarments included, and left them to dry beside the fire. Then she wrapped herself in one of the grimy, white deer skins that had been piled near the cave entrance, adjusting it over her shoulders like a hunter’s cloak. It hung barely past her knees though, revealing the pale, white skin of her ankles. She took particular care to make sure Kanan wasn’t watching as she undressed, but at the same time, she almost wished he had.

Returning to the fire, she pulled on the cloak tight around her collar. “Gods, this smells of snow piss,” she muttered, shuffling over and through the nest of pelts and blankets before laying on top of them, propping herself up on one elbow. “Well? You can turn around now. Unless you’d rather continue playing with your shoe.” It was hard not to notice how unbearably awkward Kanan was being, and she couldn’t blame him. Song had always stayed masked and armored up. She’d only just shown him her face several months ago, so this likely felt all too sudden for him.

“Sorry,” she apologized. “I hope you don’t mind. I’d just rather not freeze to death.” She leaned closer the fire, finally starting to feel its warmth on her skin. “Don’t worry, though. I promise not to ravish you in your sleep.”

She enjoyed teasing the Ranger. He’d always been terribly modest and respectful, the polar opposite of her Mandalorian sisters—Valeska Kryze, especially—and it was hilarious to see what he might do in situations like these. Song only wished this particular situation didn’t come with the looming threat of torture and hypothermia.

“But the plan, of course,” Song answered, nodding. “Your plan’s good. We can lure the rebels out to the ship and shoot them from the trees. Maybe even the canopy. They’ll have jetpacks, but if we can distract them long enough for reinforcements to arrive, we can do this.” At least, she hoped they could, and hope was a dangerous thing to have in the cold.

Song looked over to Kanan, sighing. “I’m sorry again, by the way. For dragging you into this. Sometimes I wonder if I should have shot you back on Chandrila, too.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Kanan had desperately been in need of rescuing, and that rescue had come in the form of his boot. His shoes had never been more fascinating, nor were they ever likely to be again. They were a distraction and nothing more. An object to keep his focus, to distract him from Song if that was even possible. As the moments dragged on, it became clear to him that it was not possible. Song invaded his mind, unwanted but by no means rejected.

Briefly, he found comfort in the belief that perhaps all of his previous blunders had gone unnoticed by the Mandalorian. She had more important matters to attend to, after all, like taking her armor off and getting warm by the fire. If she had noticed, she would have already teased him about it.

"You can turn around now. Unless you’d rather continue playing with your shoe."

Ah, there it was. Of course she had noticed. It had been wishful thinking to believe otherwise.

Scraping a hand through his hair, he tried to laugh the comment off, but it came out more like a nervous chuckle. Which it was. He couldn't face the wall forever. He had to face her sooner or later. He wanted to face her again, to memorize every feature and angle, and yet he dreaded the reaction she would inevitably cause, the mess of emotions she stirred within him every time he looked at her. Emotions he had not experienced in years, that he had believed to be dead. New emotions, feelings he had never felt his entire life. It was wonderful and confusing and overwhelming, all at the same time. She was overwhelming.

Drawing courage, Kanan slowly turned around, unsure what sight would await him but sure that whatever it was, he would not be prepared for it.

"Don't apologize," he replied, clearing his throat and tugging at his collar. Suddenly his throat felt tight. "I don't mind. I like—" He stopped himself there. He was stumbling over his sentences. Again.

"I mean," he began, stalling with disfluencies as he attempted to salvage the conversation. While he searched for his next words, he made the mistake of looking down to her feet. Her bare ankles stuck out from beneath the white pelt she'd wrapped around herself, somehow paler and purer than the snow that blanketed this world. That was the last place he should have looked if he wanted to think clearly. Now all he could think about was touching her ankles. "What I mean to say is that you look... soft."

If he was smart, he would've shut up then and there, but he didn't. Instead, he tried to divert attention from his most recent blunder. "It's awfully warm in here, don't you think?" he asked, realizing the stupidity of the question the second he said it aloud. They were literally in the middle of a frozen tundra, and he was talking about how warm it was?

Giving up, he resigned to the color that crept unbidden across his face and chuckled. "I'm going to shut up now."

Retrieving a piece of jerky from what was left of their emergency rations, he shoved it into his mouth before he could say anything else. This was a new and unusual situation, being alone with her like this with no one else around for miles, but he was handling it even worse than he would have imagined.

Thankfully, the conversation returned to their plan for tomorrow. A topic that would allow him to find his footing again. Talking about their probable demise was somehow preferable to the nonsense he had been sputtering. They were in agreement as to their course of action: activate the distress beacon and head for high ground. Hold off the enemy for as long as possible, hopefully until backup arrived.

As Song sighed, Kanan finally allowed his gaze to rest on her once again. Brown eyes met black eyes as she admitted that sometimes she wondered if she should have left him behind on Chandrila. Those words stung more than Kanan would have expected.

"I don't see why you're apologizing," he answered softly. "It was my choice to come here."

There's no place I'd rather be than with you.

@Feng Mian