Ask The Ranger and Revenge

[Song Wren]

“We’re almost there,” she said to Kanan through the husky voice of her modulator, evening sunlight reflecting off the beskar of her armor.

She stepped over the root of a willow tree, through thick juniper bushes, and across the stones of a gurgling stream. Nothing would stop her on the way to Vasily’s estate. Nobody could stop her from tracking down the source of all her grief and pain.

For years she’d been chasing breadcrumbs, floating from one system to the next in search of her brother’s killer, but the information she pulled from Taris had finally shown results. It had put her on the path to the forest covered hills of Serenno, to the lavish mansion ahead and the nobleman tucked safely in its halls.

Vasily Demidov was one of the planet’s prominent counts, and the leader of a crime family stretching across the Outer Rim. Supposedly, or at least according to the casino boss she’d ruthlessly interrogated, Vasily had information on the name and whereabouts of River’s murderer. It was only through him that she would find revenge.

“There,” she whispered, and pointed toward the drowsy lights of the mansion, to its manicured gardens and old, traditional architecture. “Keep an eye out for guards.” She cast a glance over to Kanan. “Although I’m sure you already knew that.”

Song had been hesitant to bring the Ranger along. It’d been pure luck when they ran into each other on Taris and fought their way through the casino, where she first discovered the information on Vasily. Without his help, she probably wouldn’t be there today. But what would he think, what would he say, once he saw the other side of her? The side thirsty for blood and revenge? The Mandalorian, cold and unforgiving?

She shrugged off the thought. Now was not the time to second guess. Clutching a blaster and staring out to the wide mansion, she murmured, “Let's move.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

There were worse planets to find yourself on. Serenno’s forests and plains were lush with vegetation, especially this time of year. The air was warm, the hills were green, and flowers were in bloom. Kanan had been unaware until now of the natural beauty Serenno had to offer. His previous explorations of the planet had been limited to its capital, Carrania; and to the crime-ridden districts of town at that. Being a Sector Ranger didn’t leave much time for sight seeing, especially when you made your work your life as he did.

Many of the planet’s noblemen made their homes here, surrounded by their planet’s beauty and kept safely away from prying eyes by the surrounding hills and plains. They thought their walls, security, and expensive mansions kept them safe and kept their ties to organized crime from being discovered. But they were wrong. Especially tonight.

The ranger’s gaze followed River’s finger to the mansion ahead of them and their destination. Demidov’s estate. Admittedly, Kanan was still surprised that River had allowed him to tag along on the Mandalorian’s quest to find his brother’s killer. “You might need someone to watch your back,” he had told the Mandalorian back at the casino.

Despite their initial meeting and different interests, Kanan had grown fond of the Mandalorian over the course of their shared adventures since. River had saved him more times than he could count. A part of him wanted to return the favor and help his friend but another part of him wanted to protect River. Not from River’s enemies. Kanan knew River was up to that task himself. Rather to perhaps, if needed, protect River from himself. The ranger knew all too well the slippery slope of revenge.

Crossing the gurgling stream a few steps behind River, Kanan knelt down and scooped a handful of the running water into his palm. Rubbing the cool liquid on the back of his neck, he once again followed the Mandalorian, his eyes fixed on the armor as the dying sun reflected off of it. “Right behind you,” the ranger replied quietly.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

She did her best not to look over her shoulder every thirty seconds, back to Kanan and the hard lines of his face, the water trailing down his neck. It was stupid. Ridiculous. She needed to focus ahead, on the heavily guarded estate and the guards posted around it, not on the man at her back.

Song grit her teeth and pushed through the shrubbery and into a clearing. As the sun dipped behind the mountains, bathing the fields and forests in murky light, she could make her way to the mansion with little fanfare. Even in lumbering armor she’d hoped to take the stealthy approach, strange and unfamiliar as that was—both to her and Kanan.

“As much as I’d love to test our luck against Demidov’s army,” she whispered to him, “maybe for once let’s try to sneak through a window, instead of blasting a hole in the wall. I don't want to risk the count escaping.”

Without a second thought, she cut through a hedge and plunged into the maze of the gardens. Her footsteps were soft over the grass and mulch, and she continued past finely trimmed bushes and flower beds, under marble statues of old counts and noblemen that stood over her like silent guardians. A stone fountain sat in the center of the plot.

There, a young man was armed with a blaster rifle, his eyes faraway in the distance, clearly bored. The perfect target.

But when he spotted her, when he noticed the glint of her armor, she didn’t give him the chance to open his mouth. His eyes went wide just as she whipped him across the head with her blaster, then smashed his nose against the fountain’s edge with a sickening crunch. He was out like a light.

Too easy, she thought, until boots shuffled around the corner.

She grimaced. It was another guard.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

“Are you implying my methods are anything less than subtle?” he replied in an equally low voice, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. There was no accusation to his tone. He could hardly deny the accuracy of River’s remark.

Their past escapades had no air of subtlety to them. There was nothing subtle about burying dozens of Acklay in a landslide, nothing subtle about tossing a frag grenade into the greedy mouth of a sarlacc. Kanan preferred a straight forward approach to his problems. The straight forward approach was not usually subtle. It usually involved fighting. He liked fighting.

As they passed through the gardens of the estate, Kanan observed their surroundings in the dying light. Demidov took the same care and pride in his gardens as his ancestors had in the construction and architectural design of this mansion. It was unfortunate that a man such as Demidov did not take that same amount of care in his personal life. With his wealth and influence, there was no end to the good he could do. He had chosen to abuse his power instead.

There was no difference between Demidov and the common criminals Kanan had dealt with in the slums of Carannia. For all the wealth and beauty he surrounded himself with, Demidov was just another criminal. Another parasite on society.

That’s definitely going to leave a mark, Kanan thought to himself as he watched River smash the guard’s nose into the stone fountain nearby. As quickly as they had come upon the guard, the Mandalorian had dealt with him. Silently and efficiently.

The sound of approaching footsteps tore Kanan’s focus away, allowing him just enough time to hide behind a well-groomed bush before a second guard descended on them. Now around the corner, Kanan swept the guard’s legs out from under him. Once he hit the ground, Kanan kicked the guard’s blaster from his hands and wrapped his arms tightly around his neck. Slowly the ranger choked him out, one hand placed firmly over the gaurd’s mouth to keep him from making a sound. For a moment or two the guard thrashed around, clawing at the ranger’s arms and trying to squirm free. Then he went limp.

“Subtle enough for you?” Kanan quipped, once again on his feet as he stuffed the unconscious guard into the bush.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

“Impressive,” she said. “For a Sector Ranger.”

She breathed a laugh and pressed through the gardens, the scent of jasmine and oranges sweet in the air. She may not admit it, but Song was grateful to have him at her side, safe knowing that he had her back. But she wondered just how long this partnership would last. And if there was one piece of advice she’d learned from her father, it was that the best things never did.

On the mansion’s side, she spotted an open terrace two stories up. Gargoyle status sat on the ledge, watchful sentries, but they wouldn’t be able to stop her. With her right leg reared back, a heel digging into perfectly mowed grass, she was like a white fox in the winter-capped forests of Krownest, ready to pounce on an unsuspecting hare.

She turned to Kanan thoughtfully. “See, I would have brought rope and a grappling hook, but I thought you could use a challenge. Try to keep up.” Then, without a second thought, she was taking flight.

Unlike her Mandalorian brothers and sisters, she didn’t have a jetpack. She hadn’t yet earned the honor. Of course, she did have the next best thing: a set of jump boots. With the click of a button on her wrist, Song was suddenly rocketing into the night sky, soaring two stories until she landed in a roll on the balcony.

She looked up to find an armed man smoking a cigar. At the very sight of her, it dropped from his lips, and he simply gawked.

“Evening,” she said.

The guard reached for the blaster slung on his waist, but Song was much faster. In one swift motion, she grabbed him by the collar and tossed him over the balcony, where he crashed into a bed of tulips with a muffled cry and a thud.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

It was a backhanded compliment said in jest, but Kanan would take it all the same. He had a feeling River didn’t give out compliments very often. “Thanks,” he chuckled, dusting the dirt from his clothes.

Taking hold of the first guard by the boots, Kanan drug him away from the stone fountain where he lay unconscious and stuffed him into the bush alongside the other guard. With any luck they wouldn’t be found until they came to. Whenever that would be. The first guard didn’t look so good.

The ranger fell back into step behind River as he led them toward the mansion. The night sky began to blanket the garden in darkness, and Kanan took a deep breath. The gardens smelled as wonderful as they looked. For a brief moment his thoughts drifted to the jungles of his home world Yavin 4, and he wondered how his mother was. It had been three or more years since he had seen her. But that was a thought for another time. His focus returned to the mission at hand.

As they neared the mansion, Kanan spotted a balcony on the second floor with its door open. He knew the Mandalorian had already noticed this point of entry as he marched silently toward it.

Sure would be handy to have a pair of those things, Kanan thought to himself, watching in silence as the Mandalorian’s jump boots carried him up to the balcony above with ease. He disappeared over the side. Kanan let out a low breath. Pushing aside such wishful thoughts, he pulled his grappling hook from his side. I guess I’ll just have to do it the old-fashioned way.

Tossing the grappling hook toward the balcony, its hook caught on the railing, and Kanan started to climb. It was a much less graceful ascent than River’s had been, but it was an ascent all the same he supposed.

The sound of a scuffle drew Kanan’s attention toward the balcony just as a body was flung off the side. Tightening his grip on the rope, the ranger swung to one side and narrowly avoided a collision with the guard.

“Watch where you toss out the trash from now on,” Kanan grumbled to River as he climbed over the railing.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

Song let out a short laugh. “I’ll consider it.”

She helped him over the iron wrought handrail, and once the two of them were together again, she turned for the balcony doors. Left wide open, the matter of sneaking inside now was nothing more than a breeze. Switching out her blaster for the comfort of a knife, she crossed the threshold, from marble tiling to fine carpet floors.

Immediately, she was met by a passing twi’lek guard.

He raised his rifle instinctively, and without thinking, without hesitation, she swiped her knife across his throat. A thin line of blue blood stretched over his skin. The guard clutched at it helplessly, then collapsed onto the rug in a quiet, choking heap. She felt no pity. No remorse. It was just another cost of revenge. It hadn’t been the first time she killed in front of Kanan. It probably wouldn’t be the last.

“Watch your step,” she said, and moved around the body.

If she had to describe the inside of the mansion in one word, it was extravagant. The halls dripped with wealth, warmed by oil paintings and tapestries and candlelit chandeliers. Demidov certainly had a taste for luxury. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the bathrooms were lined with gold, or his pillows stuffed with a thousand feathers of some endangered beast.

“Haven’t even seen him yet and I already can’t wait to kill him.” Her voice was low, gravelly. Was it right to judge him so easily?

Did it matter?

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

A brief moment later, the sound of choking ceased, and the twi’lek’s thrashing stopped. He fell silent and still as blood pooled around his neck and head, staining the carpet beneath him in a crimson red.

“That’s not going to be an easy mess to clean up,” the ranger commented, kneeling down beside the dead twi’lek to retrieve his rifle. He would no longer be needing it, and it never hurt to have an extra blaster on you. The rifle now firmly in his hands, Kanan stood.

His dark eyes traveled over the Mandalorian in silent examination, the light from the candlelit chandeliers above dancing across the Mandalorian’s armor. There was an intensity to River that Kanan had never seen before. Even the beskar armor he wore could not hide that. It hid so much, but not that. It was not an unsettling intensity. At least not to Kanan.

It was an intensity that made Kanan wonder just how this particular adventure would end. It was no ordinary mission after all. These were no ordinary criminals they were dealing with. This was the most dangerous type of mission: a personal one. Personal to River. He was hunting his brother’s murderer, and it didn’t get more personal than that.

The ranger had once been motivated solely by revenge. In some small way, he still was. He sought atonement. He had no life outside of his work. Different circumstances, different people, and a different time, but he felt the need to speak to River. What would he say? He had no idea. Would it be of any help to River? He had no clue. Words didn’t usually come easily to him. Now was not the time, but when the time was right, Kanan would say something.

Eventually removing his gaze from the glint of the Mandalorian armor, Kanan looked around the lavish mansion. “Can you believe people actually live like this?” he asked quietly, half to himself. With a chuckle he added, “I don’t think a ranger’s salary would even pay for the front door mat.”

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

“Are you kidding? With your salary, I doubt you could even afford stepping on it.” She bit out a laugh, and an odd thought came to mind. “You know, Kanan, I don’t know why you bother with the Rangers when you could be a bounty hunter. Free reign. Easy money. You could travel anywhere in the galaxy. Anywhere you wanted.”

Anywhere with me, she wanted to say. The two of them could be more than allies, but actual partners. It wouldn’t have to take a coincidental rendezvous for them to work together. They could drift from planet to planet—catching bounties, protecting settlements, drinking in ramshackle cantinas in the middle of nowhere. She wouldn’t mind the company, as long as it was his. She wouldn’t mind living, and dying, by his side.

Heat flushed into her cheeks. What was she thinking? “Idiot,” she whispered, then realized too late she’d said it aloud.

“Sorry,” she amended. “Talking to myself.”

Great. Now Kanan either thought she was being cold, or crazy.

She crossed into an intersection of halls. Careful to avoid a passing guard, and thus another death on her hands, she checked both sides before continuing, her footsteps muffled against the scarlet red carpeting.

She’d already investigated a blueprint of the mansion, and knew she was heading toward Demidov’s private quarters, where he would be presumably sleeping, or working late in the night. A personal guard might be waiting by his door, but with Kanan, there could be a hundred and she wouldn’t bat an eye.

Suddenly, a shadow moved into her periphery, just from around the corner. Song froze to the spot. She clutched her knife, and her other hand tightened into a fist, ready to shatter teeth. Then the figure came into the open, matted in fur, black as night, with slitted pupils and fangs.

A cat.

She grimaced. “Seriously?”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Kanan shared in his companion’s laugh. It was a quiet laugh, but it couldn’t have been any more genuine.

He couldn’t deny that River had a point. A Sector Ranger’s salary didn’t pay well, and often times you got little say in the missions you were assigned or to which planets you were sent. It felt as if a lifetime had passed since Kanan had considered any other line of work. Since the passing of his wife, his work was his life. It was the reason he got up every morning, if he was lucky enough to catch a full night’s sleep.

Being a Sector Ranger wasn’t something he could just walk out on. It was a part of his identity. Perhaps it was the only identity he had left. He wasn’t really sure, and at this point he supposed it really didn’t matter. He had no life outside of his work. He was making a difference in the galaxy, however small, and that was reason enough to press on.

Confused as he was as to the intention behind River’s final words, Kanan decided to answer his friend anyway. “I suppose I like helping people,” he said truthfully, “To make a difference in people’s lives, however small. Make the galaxy a better place to live.”

Not wanting to sound too sappy, he added in a light tone, “And it’s a good way to keep your head clear of the past. And I enjoy beating up scum.” He shrugged. “And it’s job.”

Kanan couldn’t help but smirk at River’s reaction to the cat as it wandered out from around the corner. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of this cute little fella?” he teased his imposing Mandalorian companion, crouching down and gently petting the creature behind the ears.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

“His name’s Whiskers.”

Song tensed at the sound of the soft voice, and she turned to find a young girl in a silk nightgown, clutching a stuffed bear in her hands, golden strands of hair sweeping past her shoulders. What was a random girl doing, wandering the halls in the dead of night? Her stomach turned. There was an awful familiarity in the child’s face, enough for dread to slowly creep in, until at last, realization hit her like a slap across the face.

This was Demidov’s daughter.

The little girl looked carefully between her and Kanan. Song could tell she was afraid, nervously holding the stuffed bear as she stared at her armor, faceless and cold. “I’ve never seen you before,” she murmured. “Do you work for Papa?”

“No.”

She stepped closer, her shadow looming, and the girl paled. Would she scream? Might she cry for help? Song didn’t know, but she couldn’t let the child go, to run free or warn the guards, least of all to her father. Dark thoughts hung in the air.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked, and the girl shook her head. “I am the monster that lives in the back of your closet, under the crook of your bed.” She thumbed over to Kanan. “And this is my pet. The creature that stalks the gardens outside your little mansion, waiting for a midnight snack.”

Song couldn’t believe what she was saying. The girl looked about ready to wet her pants. “I knew it,” she whispered. “Mama always said you weren’t there, but I knew she was wrong.” Her bottom lip trembled. “Are you going to eat me?”

Song tilted her head. “No. I only eat the bad children, the spoiled kind that likes to stay up past their bedtime.” The blood drained from the girl’s rosy cheeks. “I won’t eat you, but only if you go back to bed and never speak a word to your Mama about seeing us tonight.” She leaned forward. “Because if you do, I will feed Whiskers to my friend here, and it will be all your fault.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Kanan expected the deep, even voice of the Mandalorian to answer his question. Instead a small, gentle voice broke the silence, somehow more frightening in that moment than the voice of the Mandalorian.

A young girl stood there in her nightgown. She couldn’t have been more than se or eight years old at the most, and she looked terrified, her eyes wide and darting between River and the Mandalorian. Between the two of them—particularly River—Kanan didn’t blame the small child for being scared.

The ranger didn’t dare move an inch. He remained still and crouched beside the cat, his breath caught in his throat. Any sudden movement might scare the girl, and they couldn’t risk her alerting anyone to their presence. They’d be overrun with guards in a matter of minutes, and Demidov was unlikely to show any measure of mercy to either of them. They had broken into his house, after all. That was personal.

Before Kanan could think of anything to say, River was engaging the girl in conversation, and a frightening one at that. The ranger grew tense as River advanced on the child one step at a time. An uncomfortable feeling formed in the pit of Kanan’s stomach. In that moment, he had no idea what River might do next. For a brief moment, River was as unpredictable as a wild animal or a complete stranger. It was a disturbing feeling and one Kanan had never experienced with River before.

“Your pet?” Kanan muttered under his breath to River. Had circumstances been different and the air surrounding them not been so tense and unpredictable, he would have allowed his amusement at the silly comparison to show. He would have made a joke out of it.

Kanan stood, clutching the black cat in his arms and walking past River. The cat, or Whiskers by name, did not appreciate its current situation in the arms of a stranger and hissed to be let down. It attempted to claw the ranger’s arms, but almost as soon as it had been picked up it was returned to the small arms of its owner.

“You should do as he says,” Kanan said seriously to the little girl, his face emotionless. His eyes had softened against his will as he had approached the child, but this small change was hardly noticeable in the dimly lit hallway. “Go to your room. No harm will come to you or... to Whiskers. Just be good and go to bed.” He didn’t deal with children often in his line of work, so that would have to do.

Time was of the essence now, even more than before. “We should hurry,” he told River. An obvious statement, but he said it anyway. A frown slowly spread across his face as he stared at the Mandalorian. “Wasn’t that a little much?” he asked quietly in reference to River’s handling of her, his head silently gesturing toward where the child had stood.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

Demidov’s daughter nodded sagely, her chin wobbling. Once Kanan was finished, she turned and skittered down the hall, her face about as white as the lace on her nightgown. She looked over her shoulder every now and then, as if afraid the Mandalorian might sick the Ranger on her like some dog, until she vanished into what was presumably her bedroom, golden locks of hair lost to the dark.

Song let out a cold breath. “It was that or spray her with a sedative and throw her into a closet. Unless you had a better idea.” She gestured him to move forward. “Let’s go.”

Kanan had a point. She’d handled the child poorly, the way her father might—through fear. For Mandalore’s sake, she’d threatened to eat the girl, to kill her pet cat. Was this what she was meant to be? A thug? What would River have done?

River is dead, she thought, the reminder like a thorn in her side. Everything you do, you do for him.

She grit her teeth. None of it mattered anymore. The girl was just one more obstacle in her path for revenge, just like Demidov. If she wanted justice, then sometimes the unthinkable needed to be done. And if the nobleman wouldn’t give her the information she needed, then she would deal with him the same way she’d dealt with the others. With fear, pain, and death.

Such feelings were not unfamiliar to her. She’d grown used to their company. Like ghosts.

“He’s close,” she whispered. Song had memorized the estate plans, and although the halls were structured like a maze, she could find her way through it with ease. Nothing, and nobody, would stop her from seeing this night through to its end.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Kanan’s brow creased at the Mandalorian’s alternative. Dealing with criminals in such a manner was one thing—Kanan often did so himself—but this was a child. The daughter of a criminal with deep rooted ties to the syndicates and a man who undoubtedly deserved whatever punishment River had in mind to dish out to him, but a child, nonetheless. Innocent and unaware of her father’s crimes.

Disapproval lined the ranger’s features, but he didn’t say a word. Kanan could not blame River for his desire for revenge and his determination to see his brother’s murderer brought to justice. He just hoped that River would not lose himself along the way in pursuit of that goal. As his friend, Kanan was prepared to do whatever it took to make sure that didn’t happen. The real question was, would River want his help?

Silently, Kanan followed River’s gesture and moved forward, following the Mandalorian deeper into the mansion. Every hallway began to look the same after a while, and he was glad River knew where they were going.

Turning a corner, light shone from a room at the end of the hallway. The door was cracked, and a voice could be heard coming from inside the room. Through the crack in the door, Kanan could make out a man. Demidov? He sat at a large desk, relaxed as he stared into the projection of a hologram.

The hologram ended as they grew closer to the door, and the voice fell silent. All was quiet. Kanan could not see if there were any guards in the room or make out the man’s face at the desk. Kanan held his rifle close and looked to River. He would follow his lead. “I’m right behind you,” he whispered.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

Song nodded, but she wasn’t sure if she’d need his help for what came next. In fact, she wasn’t sure how he might react.

Whoever Demidov was talking to, she hadn’t any idea. She hardly cared. All she’d heard a woman’s honeyed voice, faint and soft as silk, and through the crack in the door, caught the shine of golden hair. Was it the person responsible for River’s murder? She would find out soon enough.

The door slid open to her touch. Everything about the room screamed privileged. Shelves lined the paneled walls, packed with more than leather bound books, but sapphire necklaces and family heirlooms. There were rare insects entombed in amber, oil paintings and seascapes, statue heads chiseled in marble. And under all of it, at the end of the room, sat Vasily Demidov, the Count of Saffia.

“Good evening,” Song murmured, and Demidov looked up in surprise.

“What?” he said. “Who are you? How did you get in here?”

With the door already closed behind her and no sign of guards in the hallway, Song was the first to strike. Her whipcord launcher hissed to life. She ensnared Demidov by the arm and yanked him out of his cushioned armchair, throwing him over his desk and scattering papers across the floor. He slammed into the carpet and groaned in pain.

“Kanan,” she said. “Make sure nobody interrupts us.”

She knew it wasn’t right to order the Ranger around, but Song didn’t want this moment ruined for anything. She would make Demidov talk, or she'd make him wish he had.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Mandalorians were feared by many throughout the galaxy. Respected. Revered. Admired. It was never difficult to see why.

As much as Kanan viewed River as a friend, the ranger was constantly reminded of the fact that he was much more than a friend. He was a fierce warrior. A predator. A Mandalorian. There was a fear in Demidov’s eyes that Kanan was sure many a man had experienced over the years when coming face to face with a Mandalorian. Particularly when that Mandalorian had just forcibly drug you from your chair, over your mahogany desk, and to the floor in a matter of seconds.

Kanan closed the door behind them and locked the handle. Scanning the room, this was the only door. There was only way into the room, and anyone that wanted in would have to go through him.

He locked the door and shoved a chair under the handle for good measure. It wouldn’t keep anyone out, but it would buy them a little bit of time, and there would be no chance of anyone catching them by surprise.

He positioned himself by the door and watched River in silence. Kanan didn’t know what the night held in store for them, but he knew it wouldn’t be dull. It never was with River.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

With the door secure, Song began her work.

She put a boot against Demidov’s chest, threatening to break a rib—if she hadn’t already—and daring him to rise from the floor. She would love to throw him around the room some more, exact retribution before she asked questions, but Kanan was there, and she didn’t have time to deal in petty grievances.

“I’m here to ask you some questions, Vasily Demidov.”

He gasped for breath. “Please, don’t kill me.”

“I like it when men beg,” she said. “But not tonight. You might live to see morning, Demidov, but only if you tell me what I need to know.”

“What is it?” he rasped. “Anything.”

“My brother. He was a Mandalorian, like me. A bounty hunter looking to score big. A warrior searching for honor and glory. He’s dead now. Murdered. Do you know how?”

The man sputtered, “Wait. I don’t—”

Her knife was at his throat in an instant. She pressed its cold edge to his skin, almost drawing blood, and Demidov fell silent. “Look at me closely,” she said. “This armor. Does it ring any bells?”

Demidov’s eyes widened. “You’re him. You’re the bounty hunter. But he’s—”

“Dead? I know. I helped bury him.” A memory came to her, unbidden. The sight of her brother's broken body, his scarred face and closed eyes, lips blue and cheeks white as snow. Mother was crying into her hands, and Father was staring blankly into the sky, unable to watch as his son was lowered into the permafrost. “I took his armor, and now I’m here looking for the one responsible. I’m told you know where they are. Tell me.”

“Your brother—it was just a small job. I didn’t think anything of it.” Demidov paused, afraid to continue. “It’s just business.”

“Not for me.” Song grabbed him by the collar and hurled him across the room. His back smashed into one of the bookcases, and he collapsed, coughing, bleeding. “Please,” he whimpered. “He was the only one who could help me. I only hired him once.”

She froze. It felt as if the floor was tilting beneath her, the walls closing in. “What?”

“Didn't you know? Your brother worked for me.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Kanan crossed the room to Demidov’s desk. Most of the desk’s contents had been knocked off its mahogany surface when River had jerked Demidov from his seat.

Keeping a watchful eye on the secured door, and glancing up every few seconds to watch River interrogate Demidov, Kanan rummaged through the scattered items on the floor. Underneath a mess of papers, he found what he was looking for: a portable computer.

Returning the mobile computer to its previous position on the desk, Kanan pulled a datacard from his belt and inserted it into the computer. A man in Demidov’s position was bound to have lots of useful information. Information that could be used to put criminals behind bars.

The download complete, Kanan returned the datacard to his belt just as River hurled Demidov across the room and into a bookshelf with a sickening crack. Someone was bound to have heard that.

Kanan moved toward the door again and took up a position behind it, readying himself for company. “Didn't you know? Your brother worked for me,” he heard Demidov say, his voice hoarse from the beating he was taking.

Kanan’s dark eyes darted to River, a revelation he was sure the Mandalorian must not have been expecting. There was no time to see his friend’s reaction, however, as the door shook and the sound of men throwing their shoulders into it stole Kanan’s attention away.

The door swung open with force after a few tries, knocking the chair away, and two guards rushed into the room, blasters in hand. The ranger knocked the first guard over the head with the rifle he’d taken earlier, and the man crumpled to the floor, unconscious. Easy enough. The second guard, a deep purple Mirialan, pushed Kanan back and into the wall with a surprising amount of strength. Or maybe not.

He swung, but Kanan was able to duck just in the nick of time and deliver a counter punch to the Mirialan’s gut. The blow caused him to stumble a few feet back, and Kanan knocked his legs out from under him.

“There’ll be more of them soon,” Kanan stated, glancing to the Mandalorian. His eyes flickered to Demidov and then back to River. He wondered what was going through River’s head right now. “But take as much time as you need. I can handle them.”

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

Song watched the fight unfold, dumbfounded, still trying to register the truth of what Demidov had said. Your brother worked for me. She wanted to believe he was lying, that this was some elaborate trick, but one look in the man’s eyes and she knew he meant every word. The room felt so tight, the air so thin. Why did things have to be so complicated? How much longer did she have to wait for revenge?

She drew in a sharp breath. “Tell me everything.”

Demidov nodded slowly. “For generations, my family has dealt in the underground spice market. It’s what made us rich, what made me the Count of Saffia.” He wiped a trail of blood from his nose. “But several years ago, my contacts were disappearing. Someone was taking them down, rooting them out. They were bleeding my business dry. I knew eventually, whoever it was, they’d come for me too. For my family.”

“I couldn’t let that happen. So, I hired a bounty hunter—your brother. He was supposed to track down whoever was responsible and make sure they didn’t meddle with me or my investments again, but things didn’t go as planned.”

Song clenched her fist. It was naive of her to believe River was perfect, or a reflection of her—serving the people, bringing criminals to justice. He’d always been out for money, for glory, or just for a challenge. Still, she loved him more than the stars.

Back then, during Krownest's long winters, he might take her out into the snowy forests to hunt and train with him, far from the watchful eye of their father. They might build snares, or track spotted deer, or climb trees to catch the view of a sunset. He’d tell her jokes around a fire in the middle of the night, and she’d spit out her cup of boiled water and break into laughter.

She shut her eyes, trying hard to breath normally, trying to not let her grief show. “What happened?”

“He made contact with someone named Amita Ghafa, somewhere on Chandrila, shortly before his death,” said Demidov. “She was a Sector Ranger.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

A Sector Ranger? Kanan’s ears perked up at this. Could it be that River’s brother had been killed by a Sector Ranger? Worse yet, if it had been a Sector Ranger, and River’s brother was working for Demidov—a criminal—had it been a justified killing? A Sector Ranger just doing their job? That was an unsettling thought. The possible consequences were... even more unsettling. What would River do, if that was the case?

River was a man who had been robbed of his only brother. A brother he looked up to and admired, a brother he loved. Perhaps more than he loved anyone else. He sought revenge above all else, at any cost.

The revelation that his brother had worked for a criminal wasn’t likely to satiate this need for revenge. This need ran deep. Kanan knew all too well the power revenge could hold over a man. Nothing had stood in his way of avenging his wife, and he didn’t imagine anything would stand in the way of River avenging his brother.

But this was all conjecture, and hopefully it would stay that way. Perhaps the Sector Ranger had been nothing more than a contact. Kanan would not allow his mind to run wild with the idea quite yet, but... he would keep it in the back of his mind. Just in case. Amita Ghafa. Was the name familiar to Kanan? He could not remember. He had worked with a number of other rangers over the years. Faces he did not forget, but names did not always come easily to him.

Three more guards were racing down the hallway toward Demidov’s quarters. Setting his blaster to stun, Kanan was able to hold them off with rapid fire as he studied the room for a way of escape. A two story jump out of the glass windows would have to do when the time came.

@Feng Mian