"We can't just rush in," Wylan began as we all stood around the campfire that evening. He had a point. Running into a slaver encampment half-cocked was a surefire way to get yourself killed. "We know that our primary target has been planning an assault on one big encampment for some time. This could serve as a two-pronged assignment."

"Draw out the shab and free the slaves," Kade nodded slowly. "I like it."

"Why are you so interested in freeing the slaves?" Grek asked from my left. "I figured you mercenary types were only concerned with money."

The Clones all exchanged glances before Orar spoke up first, "Call it a personal investment."

"We know what it's like to be forced into service without a choice," Kote's reply shone more light on why. "Plus, we've received help from several of the villages here before. We owe them."

Honor was one of their guiding principles, it seemed. It made even more sense that they were so serious about it when you considered how they viewed the Republic. Tor looked like he wanted to say something, but if he did, he kept it back behind his teeth. Red, on the other hand, seemed a little more than impressed by what he was being told.

Wylan glanced at Ros before he gave a snort, "Are we forgetting that we're rescuing our brother here, too?"

"Nabat can handle himself, but a little extra firepower can't hurt," Tracyn replied with a wicked smirk and patted the large rotary cannon resting by his feet.

"Nabat? Isn't that a twi'lek name?"Red asked as he looked up from his blaster that sat across his knees.

"Nabat is a twi'lek Mando'ad," came Ros' reply. "He came back to help his family and vanished. We caught wind of the rumor that he was caught up in one of the round-ups. "

"Found him in a camp," Kote chimed in with a solemn nod of his head. "Aside from the bounty put up on slavers by one of the twi'lek clans, he's the main reason we're here."

It made sense for them to be so dedicated. If there was one thing we clones had drilled into us early on, it was that we stuck together through everything. Your brothers were the only family you had, and if what I was seeing from these adopted Beroya sons, their family extended to the entire clan that formed themselves around Ros' family. This meant that other Mandalorians were family in their own way. You helped keep them out of enemy hands no matter what.

It still didn't change the fact that I was resting on a lot of guilt for what happened. Talen was my commander. I was supposed to go down first, no matter what. Instead, he had risked his life for me and gotten taken in the process.

I was a Clone. I was expendable.

Talen was a Jedi. He was invaluable.

My life was less than his, even to me. I knew the Republic thought so already.

"Quit moping, Kaminii." It was Wylan's voice that broke me from my thoughts. He was watching me with those sharp grey eyes of his and had one corner of his mouth screwed into an annoyed grimace. "That jeti'ika believed you were worth saving. Take it as an honor. To him, your name meant something. Make it up to him by bringing him back alive."

There was no debating that he had a point. Still, I gave no response. The old Mando didn't seem to care as he sat back on his rock seat and glanced to Ros, who had been murmuring to Kothe for most of the time we had been chatting. Ros finally caught him looking and raised one silver eyebrow questioningly as Wylan finally stood, "Vod?"

"I'm going hunting. I'm taking the moping Kaminii with me," he turned to me as he flipped his helmet with a toss and placed it on his head. I got a good look at it in the light of the sunset. He had jaig eyes painted across the brow of the helmet in fading white paint. Aside from the deep grey he had the helmeted painted, it was the only spot of color on it. "Get up, Kaminii. Let's go."

*

We wandered out away from camp and had walked most of the way out in utter silence. There wasn't a sounds besides the shrieking of the local birds as we made our way across the grasslands of Ryloth side by side. He had his rifle out and was walking along with his head on a constant swivel, and neither of us said a word.

The light had almost faded from the sky before I finally sucked in a breath to speak to him at last, "What are we hunting?"

"Zygerrians," came his reply, gruff and almost hollow from beneath his helmet. "The camp where they took your jetii is run by Zygerrians. I caught a look at one of those thieving cats when they decided to run away."

Zygerrians were the premier slave traders. Their involvement wasn't a surprise and it only made me grimace under my helmet.

"Think we'll find some?"

"They tend to be arrogant, so I hope so."

For a while, neither of us said another word. We simply walked along in silence before he finally turned his head to look at me, "Why do you fight for the Republic?"

The question caught me off guard, "It's my home."

"They ask your brothers to die by the thousands while expecting them to receive pats on the head in return and you don't find that unsettling?"

"I do. It's why I hate the Jedi as much as I do."

"Yet here you are," he gestured towards me with his rifle, "out looking for a jeti'ika. Scared of getting decommissioned?"

"Talen is... he's just a kid-"

"A Jedi is a Jedi whether they're young or old," Wylan's dismissive tone hit a string that made my fist clench my rifle just a little bit tighter. "Why do you really like him?" Wylan had halted and turned to fully face me. "Go on. Tell me. Did he reaffirm your self-worth?"

It stung because it was true. He had.

"If you need a baby snatcher to tell you that you're worth something, you don't deserve to be told."

"As if you'd understand what it's like being raised to die."

"Oh, I do," Wylan had taken half a step towards me at my challenge. "Except I was raised to die, no to be slaughtered. That," he held up one finger a mere hair's breadth in front of my helmet, "is the difference, Kaminii. As soon as you decide to stop being some dumb nerf led to slaughter, the better you'll be."

He had turned away from me when I started to follow him with one single question, "What makes Talen all that different from me, then?"

Wylan paused and half-turned back to face me as I kept moving towards him.

"He's not like most Jedi I've known. He's not a preachy, sanctimonious, self-righteous windbag. He's a kid. A kid they've made kill people, who they've taught to break the minds of people he needs to get information from - and you know what? Maybe he did reaffirm my self-worth," and as I spoke I jabbed one finger into the center of his chest piece, "but I never knew I really had any to begin with. Want to know why I care, Mando?"

He stayed silent, waiting for my reply as I lowered my hand.

"Aliit ori'shya tal'din."

The way his body shifted when I said the line made me realize that he had, in some capacity, accepted what I said, and after a minute he gave one nod of his head, "The boys were right. You're not as indoctrinated as they like to think you are. You may stand a chance yet." Once again, he turned away from me and hoisted his rifle up onto his shoulder as he began to peer through its scope.

We had lapsed into another bout of silence, only this one was far more comfortable than the one we had before. Whatever tension that Wylan had about me seemed to have faded when I seemed to dissipate his worst fear - that fear being that I was a second Tor.

He looked up over his scope before casting a cursory glance my way, "I think we found them. Off there, to the west," he gestured as he freed one hand from its grip on the rifle. "That's where we'll start heading come morning. The plains are too dangerous to navigate at night." Indeed, the sun had fallen low enough to begin painting the sky an unmatched shade of crimson in the distance. "We'll head back for now and regroup. Then we'll leave at dawn and cover as much ground as we can. Kote should know what to do with the camp."

Wylan brushed past me and made back the way we had come without so much as another word.

*

When we returned, I saw the Beroya boys look up excitedly when they saw Wylan pull his helmet off. "Well?" Orar looked away from Red practically bouncing with excitement, "Did you find them, ba'vodu?"

" Kando and I located their camp off to the west. If there's any leads, we'll find them there." A silence had fallen across the Mandalorians and they all exchanged glances before Ros' mouth began to twist itself into a wry grin. "What?"

"Wasn't aware you called Kaminii by their names," Kothe chuckled.

The remark made Wylan's eyes widen before they narrowed just as quickly to two dark slits on his sharp face. He muttered something under his breath and angrily slung his rifle back over his shoulder as he made for one of the other rocks beside Kote's fire on the opposite end of our small camp. It made Ros chuckle and motion me over to a free spot beside him as Orar shrugged and returned to chattering excitedly with Red, who also looked to be enjoying the conversation. I spotted Tracyn and Grek exchanging weapons beside one of the tents and Tor, much to my shock, standing watch with Kade. Even the two of them seemed to be having a pleasant chat.

I sat down beside Ros who in turn passed me some sort of small roasted animal on a spit. I figured it was edible but the overall surprise of it made me hesitate, "Don't worry. It's a local beast. Twi'leks love it," Ros laughed at my surprise as I took off my helmet and gave me a good-natured slap on the back. He glanced over at Wylan and gave a long whistle, "That... Whatever you said to him left an impression!"

I followed his eyes and shook my head, "What's his deal? Was he always such a bastard or do they train them that way?"

Kothe gave a high laugh that almost sent a piece of whatever she was eating out of her mouth, and she slapped a hand to her mouth to keep it all in there. Wylan cast a glance our way and narrowed his eyes once again while Kote went to grab some more of the spits from our fire.

"Wylan was adopted into Clan Ordo when he was little after his father tried to kill him. Old Man Talon Ordo saved his life that day. Concord Dawn had a famine, Wylan's father was sick of feeding him, so he took him out into a field to get rid of him. Talon happened to be passing through and put him down, asked Wylan if he needed a place to live, and offered to take him in. They worked him like a dog, but he proved himself through blood, sweat, and tears. Talon took him on as his son."

"Is that normal?"

"It's more common than you'd think. I knew a man with a Twi'lek son and a Chagrian daughter. He was a Zabrak!" Ros seemed to find my bewilderment amusing because he barked another laugh and slapped my shoulder plate, "I mean it! Being Mandalorian isn't about the planet you're from or who your birth family is. Look at Duchess Kryze. She may be from Mandalore, but she's no Mandalorian."

I nodded after a moment the turned back to him, "What makes a Mando'ad?"

"You must speak the language, follow Mand'alor, defend your clan and honor their ways, wear beskar'gam with honor and dignity, and raise your children as true Mandalorians. That is the Resol'nare, the core tenets of our people. Where you come from doesn't matter. Who you were before a clan took you in doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is the Mando'ad you will become."

I turned back to Wylan, "And that's what he believes? Why does he seem to hate us in particular?"

Ros pitched a long sigh, "He doesn't... Haar'chak, how do I explain this..." He reached up to his neck and passed a hand over it with a shake of his head and another shorter sigh. "He's a native Concordian himself, but... He fell in with Death Watch when Clan Kryze took over Mandalore. The Old Ways mean everything to him. He speaks Mando'a better than most Mandalorians from the homeworld, says the names of the fallen members of his clan every single day before the sun even rises, and should they ever name a new Mand'alor, he would go to their side readily. I... may or may not have pulled him out kicking and screaming," Ros laughed a bit before his face fell and returned to an expression that almost seemed to border on sad. "To him, you're an affront to everything we stand for. Jango created you and taught you fragments of our culture, but you were never allowed into a clan, never wore beskar'gam, never heeded the call of Mand'alor, never taught others our ways. You're all dar'manda - ignorant of our ways. He was always prideful, always stubborn, but he is a real Mando'ad. He'll come around eventually. You've already impressed him more than once."

I watched Wylan cleaning his vibroblade with the care that even some of our most dedicated weaponsmiths didn't use with their blades. He was massaging it with oils in a way that seemed almost ritualistic to me. "Really? I figured the old chakaar wasn't impressed by anything."

"He's not good at showing it," Ros chuckled and turned to me with a smile. "Go easy on him. Clan Ordo was never much for showing affection or appreciation, but he will always defend you. He wasn't too fond of the idea about my boys until little Orar called him ba'vodu for the very first time. Now, there's no fiercer jai'galaar in all of Mandalore when it comes to those boys."

Ros turned to look at him again and my eyes followed his. Kote had taken up residence on one of the rocks across from Wylan and was regaling him with some story about his exploits from the way he kept talking with his hands, showing the various sizes of objects and mimicking rifle and blaster motions from time to time. It was spoken in quick, sharp Mando'a. Wylan waved him off in an "I can do one better" sort of way and cut into his own story. He was less animated, but the way he spoke had Kote riveted on him and whatever punchline he delivered with the slow swipe of his hand nearly had the Clone fall off the rock laughing.

Ros rolled his eyes, "Not that stupid speeder story again."

"Speeder?" I asked.

All Ros did was look at me and smirk, "I'll tell you when you're older."

*

My squad had all fallen back in together for a quick inspection the next morning while the Mandos went ahead to scout. Ros and Kothe stayed behind with Orar and Kade while Bev, Tracyn, and Kote had all gone one ahead with Wylan.

We were all standing around and waiting for the comm beep we needed to give us the go-ahead to proceed. There was a palpable sort of excitement in the air. It was the kind before a fight, the kind that resonates in your bones and makes your heart speed up. You could see it in the way we held our bodies, in the way weapons shifted in waiting hands, in the way nobody. Said. A. Word. It was like we all were holding one collective breath.

I couldn't tell you how long we stood there in our two separate groups before the comm beeped and Ros hit the button and Kote's voice came through, "Found 'em. Camp's two clicks west. We're on the outcropping - coordinates coming your way."

Ros got a grin on his face before he pulled his helmet on, "Saddle up, vode, because we've got cats to bag."

The good part about being a Clone is that it took an eternity to get tired. I was beginning to realize that it must have been a Mandalorian thing because Ros and Kothe kept perfect pace with us the entire time. So much for Kaminoan engineering. Kothe would occasionally look to Ros and ask him something quietly. Through their helmets it was hard to hear, but I figured it must have been serious because Ros would shoot her a quick look from time to time before he'd shake his head before Kade would also give them a quick look. Ros waved off his concern time and time again until we came to the outcropping where we saw four forms lying prone, each of them perfectly still even after they heard our approach. We joined them, lined up back away from the edge. Wylan passed ross a scope and we watched him survey the landscape below.

"Kriff... That's one hell of a transport..."

"They've been interrogating them," Bev chimed in. "Looks like these prisoners made to escape and the shabs caught them."

"I say we pop in and help them re-escape," Orar snickered as he flipped onto his back and slapped a clip into his blaster.

Red slapped a hand to Orar's rifle and shook his head, "No, wait..."

The reason why he had said that appeared moments later when one of the Zygerrians herded an elderly twi'lek from the transport shortly before several others were paraded out behind her. They shoved them unceremoniously to their knees before they began interrogating the first twi'lek.

"Who let you out?"

The woman refused to respond the next four times they asked despite the abuse they hurled at her and the prodding she received with the electrified end of a rod. I had to admire that kind of willpower. Finally, they threw her back towards the transport and moved onto the next one.

"We can't just sit here!" Bev finally snarled out and Ros nodded.

"Agreed," he began and looked over his shoulder, "No blowing up the transports. They have living cargo. Kaminiie, you're with me and Kothe. Wylan, you and the boys light them up."

Wylan gave a dark chuckle as he cracked his knuckles, "Oh, they'll get lit up alright. Jetpacks primed, ade, and follow my lead."

Wylan and the Beroya boys went in first guns blazing - or, should I say, jetpacks and flame throwers blazing - and I'm pretty sure that they had absolutely no idea what hit them. To be fair, I wouldn't either if I had those Mandos descending upon me from the heavens. To my surprise, we saw the twi'leks getting involved. When it became apparent that this wasn't some slaver turf war, several of the already freed twi'leks began helping in assaulting what guards there were as Ros, Kothe, and my squad began to weasel our way through the makeshift camp. We threw open cage doors and broke off locks and soon more of the angry former slaves were jumping in on beating the slavers to a pulp. It was honestly one of the best things I had ever seen.

Kade had managed to get in the transport and open all the locks, so I'm sure you can imagine the sight of these enraged former slaves just leaping out and going to town on their former masters. We had managed to free them, but all I saw amongst the freed slaves had been lekku. There wasn;t a single sign of Talen anywhere. Despite the helmets, I knew what Red, Grek, and Tor all looked like. There was frustration and worry in the way they held their bodies and I knew I must have looked the same way. We had gone in seeking something out of lost Jedi and instead we got more questions than answers.

I turned to Red, "You see him?"