Chapter 82: Making Moves
A/N: Here's the new Chapter! Which also means the next four chapters are up on my Patreon for early access as well as the chance to vote on the direction of the story!
In which they do things Tylo's way~
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Janga wasn’t entirely sure why she was going along with this.
“Let me get this straight. You used this Ursa Wren woman to infiltrate Death Watch in the first place without her knowledge. You then tricked her into giving you access to Death Watch’s Foundlings, where you located my daughter-!”
“Ah, I wish to reiterate that it was never my intention to be given a Foundling. Finding and rescuing your daughter was pure happy happenstance. Our real goal was-!”
Janga cuts Tylo off with a sharp gesture.
“Yes, yes. Saving Boba was pure luck. You were really after Rook Kast so you could uncover more about the Clone Army. Even still, once you’ve managed to steal Boba right out from under this Wren’s nose, you proceed to also steal Rook out from under her as well, is that right?”
“It’s sort of right… technically Rook Kast was Ursa Wren’s superior, so it doesn’t seem entirely fair to say I stole Rook out from under her… more like out from on top of her? Err, this analogy is kind of falling apart…”
Snorting, Janga has to admit that she’s somewhat enjoying needling the Jedi Knight. Tylo Vondin is usually much harder to get on the backfoot then this in her experience.
“So then, after all of that, your bright idea in order to get to Death Watch and destroy them once and for all… is to try and subvert the Mandalorian Woman you already betrayed, is that right?”
Truth be told, this was as good a plan as any. Janga didn’t have many contacts left on Mandalore at this point. The vast majority of the True Mandalorians had died with her on Galidraan, and while there were some Clans in Mandalore that might answer her call, she didn’t want to play out her hand and reveal herself too early.
Not to mention, both the New Mandalorian Faction AND Death Watch would try to move against her the moment they knew she was back in town. So really, this plan wasn’t terrible. Putting Bo-Katan and her fellow Nite Owl on Duchess Kryze duty, to distract her sister and keep the insane pacifistic woman from making a mess of things was particularly inspired, Janga felt.
However, she wasn’t going to say that out loud. The Jedi Knight was already a little too big-headed for Janga’s liking as it was. Given the opportunity to take him down a peg, of course she was going to leap at it.
Unfortunately, her latest bout of needling sees Tylo finally finding his confidence and backbone again. He narrows his eyes at her before huffing in amusement and shaking his head.
“It’s as good a plan as any, Janga. Or you wouldn’t be here helping me with it, now would you?”
Ugh, sometimes it was like the damn Jedi was outright reading her mind. Janga knew they couldn’t do that though of course. They could read emotions, but full-blown mind reading, especially for someone with training to resist that sort of suborning, was impossible. Rolling her eyes within her helmet, she scoffs.
“It’s a fine enough plan until it blows up in our faces. But between the two of us, I expect we’ll be able to deal with whatever trap Wren has set. After which, I figure we can interrogate her for information.”
Well, interrogate… torture, really. But Janga was trying to be nice for the Jedi’s sake. Doesn’t stop Tylo from grunting as he faces forward.
“… That will be last resort measures.”
Janga smiles wickedly at that. This was why she liked this Jedi Knight, despite all her reservations. He was… so deliciously pragmatic sometimes.
They continue on their way in silence, the two of them clad in full beskar armor. Even if this was an ambush, Janga liked their odds. Besides, this part of the city was fairly downtrodden… lots of opportunities for using the environment to even the numbers and crush their opposition… in some cases, literally.
Stepping inside of an abandoned factory together, Janga sweeps her gaze left and right even as she can tell Tylo is doing the same, in his own Jedi way. Tch, this place should have been hustling and bustling… but because it was a weapons and munitions factory, it had ultimately fallen into disrepair as a result of the New Mandalorian Faction’s leadership.
Janga’s eyes narrow as she finds herself wondering if Tylo knows what comes after Death Watch’s defeat. Is she just supposed to stand aside and let the Duchess continue running their people’s culture and entire economy into the ground?
The Mandalorians had always been a proud warrior race, but more than that, their entire economy was based on supplying the tools for warfare. In her haste to destroy their cultural identity, just how many Mandalorians had Satine Kryze put out of work? No, more than that, how many hardworking Mandalorians had the Duchess driven into Death Watch’s arms?
… Tch, it was no matter right now. For the time being at least, Janga just wanted revenge against Death Watch above all else. She didn’t even really consider herself Mandalore anymore… it was others like Kast who had her thinking about leadership after all of this was said and done.
Fortunately, Janga is able to tear her mind away from what the future holds, focusing instead on the Mandalorian Woman waiting for them in the center of the factory. Ursa Wren, has to be. But to Janga’s surprise… the other female is completely alone. Her helmet’s infra-red doesn’t pick up any other heat signatures anywhere in the area.
It’s possible that Wren’s reinforcements are waiting further out of sight, but that just means it’ll be all the easier to escape if this is an ambush.
“… You’ve got a lot of nerve contacting me after that shit you pulled, traitor. Not sure what you-!”
Wren starts out only having eyes for Tylo. But as she’s talking to the Jedi Knight, who Janga curiously notices has frozen in place and is staring at Wren in a state of shock, the female Mandalorian slowly pans her gaze over to Janga… and then does a double take, cutting herself off even as she was trying to build up to what was probably going to be quite the tirade.
“Fett? Janga Fett?”
Vondin is still frozen. Janga isn’t sure what that’s about, but she’s nothing if not adaptable. And just by the shocked, slightly awed tone in Wren’s voice, she knows how to play this.
“That’s right. And the word you’re looking for is Infiltrator, not Traitor. Vondin was never one of you and was never going to be. He was working for me… to get me my daughter back.”
Shock radiates from the other Mandalorian Woman.
“Your… daughter?”
Janga tilts her head to the side.
“Did you think he picked that Foundling completely at random? Did you think just anyone could convince Rook Kast to drop Death Watch like the sorry sack of shit it is? Death Watch had my daughter and you didn’t even know it. But now they don’t. And that means no more reason for me to entertain the existence of your little terrorist organization.”
Finally, Ursa’s instinctive reverence and awe is overtaken by something more understandable… anger and fury.
“You… you don’t get to talk about Death Watch like that! Not after you abandoned us! Our Mandalore, GONE! Where were you when the New Mandalorians started banning the basic fundamentals of our culture? Where were you when they started shutting down the factories, tossing us out onto the streets?”
As Janga feared, there were more than a few honest, hard-working Mandalorians who had been disaffected by Kryze’s peace-mongering. Ursa Wren was apparently one of them. Didn’t mean she was going to take this accusatory bullshit lying down, however.
“I was enslaved. Captured and sold into slavery by YOUR organization, bitch. I freed myself. I got my armor back. But after seeing the state of things in my absence, I didn’t see much reason to come back to a Mandalorian people that had turned their back on our values and honor. If it wasn’t the New Mandalorians shitting peace down our throats, it was Death Watch making a mockery of our martial traditions.”
From the way Wren flinches at that, she doesn’t entirely disagree with Janga’s assessment of the situation. The New Mandalorians and Death Watch are two insane extremes. On the one side, you have a bunch of pacifists. On the other side, you have a bunch of terrorists. Neither are right. Neither are good for Mandalore.
Before Ursa Wren can muster a defense however, Tylo finally breaks his silence.
“You… you’re pregnant.”
And boy if that isn’t a bombshell to drop in the center of the room. The way Wren jerks back as if struck by blaster fire is more than enough to confirm that it’s true, even as Janga looks between the disguised Jedi Knight and her and connects the dots rather swiftly.
“You idiot. You fucked her too? Didn’t tell me that part.”
It’s Tylo’s turn to flinch, but he quickly rallies as he shakes his head.
“I try not to kiss and tell. Wren… no, Ursa. You’re pregnant. And it’s mine, isn’t it?”
This explained why the Jedi had frozen up the moment he’d laid eyes on her. He must have been able to sense the extra life growing in her womb with his Jedi voodoo or whatever. Though why he’s so sure it’s his, Janga doesn’t quite understand. But in the end… he’s right. Ursa nods, even as she rests a hand over her still-flat stomach.
“… Yes.”
Stepping forward, Tylo reaches out to her, only to stop when Wren immediately takes a step back, hand on her blaster as she hisses.
“Don’t come near me. You might have knocked me up, but you were still a fucking liar. Traitor, Infiltrator… it doesn’t matter. You lied to me. By all rights, I should shoot you dead right here and now. That way my child won’t have to worry about having such an honorless cur for a father.”
Janga bristles. The Jedi was many things, but honorless was not one of them. Before she can spring to his defense however, Tylo, idiot that he is, raises his hands.
“You can if you want to, Ursa. I won’t stop you.”
What?! Well Janga would!
“And Fett won’t either.”
What the fuck?!
“If you need to take your pound of flesh from me, I understand. But I don’t think you actually want me dead. You wouldn’t have come to this meeting alone if that was what you wanted. You would have told someone in Death Watch and arranged an ambush.”
“… Maybe I have. How would you know? Maybe I’ve got a strike team waiting for my signal in a dropship a mile above us that can be here in less than thirty seconds.”
… Shit, Janga hadn’t thought of that. Sloppy of her, really. That WOULD be the best way to work around helmet-based scans, since the radar in Janga’s helm only went so far.
Except, Tylo doesn’t seem remotely concerned by the possibility.
“You didn’t. Because deep down inside, you know Fett is right about Death Watch. It’s no place to raise a child either. You want out, Ursa. You want a chance at a fresh start and a clean slate. You want to be able to hold your head high with pride when your child… our child eventually grows old enough to ask the important questions. Like which side you were on when the very soul of Mandalore was at stake.”
Janga looks at Tylo somewhat askance, glad that her helmet is hiding her facial reaction if not her body language. Where was all of that shit coming from? Did he really think that Wren was going to fall for that sappy line of bull-
“Fine! You’re right!”
Her head whips around to Ursa and Janga narrows her eyes, looking for any sign of deceit as the other Mandalorian Woman removes her hand from her blaster to throw both of them up in the air.
“I came here hoping for an alternative! ANY alternative. Death Watch… they seemed like my only option. The New Mandalorians were destroying everything and only Death Watch was willing to fight fire with fire. But… I’ve seen how they treat their Foundlings. Not like real Foundlings at all… to Death Watch, our children are just replaceable cannon fodder to be thrown into the meat grinder and chewed through, not the next generation of the Mandalorian People.”
Looking from him to Janga and back again, Ursa growls.
“I want out.”
Well shit. Janga exchanges a look with Tylo, but in the end inclines her head. This was his plan at the end of the day. With a slight nod, Tylo speaks up again.
“Alright, but before we can get you out… we need you to get us back in. I know it’s a long shot, but what are the chances of you being able to get us close to Death Watch’s leadership? A decapitation strike to the head of the snake would allow us to clean up the rest of the organization at our leisure.”
He wasn’t wrong. But surely Wren wasn’t highly placed enough to-
“It’s less of a long shot then you think. You forget… Rook Kast was my superior, not my subordinate. When you made off with her, the higher ups accepted it when I blamed everything on her decision making. They even promoted me.”
Oh. Never mind.
“Though… it won’t be easy. We’ll need something big to get their attention, otherwise they’ll wonder why I didn’t just deal with you myself. For something that will get Death Watch’s leadership involved… you’ll need something big, like a whole-ass Clan defecting… or maybe a Mandalorian Armorer, seeing as Death Watch is always in need of those.”
The way Wren shrugs makes it clear she doesn’t know where they’re going to get either of those things. To be fair, Janga is pretty sure they can’t get them either. But they can certainly fake them. However, before she can suggest such a thing, Tylo lets out a sheepish laugh.
“Ah, well… I think I might know someone.”
Despite wearing helmets that hide their faces, Janga and Ursa both radiate incredulity as they look at Tylo in disbelief.
Then again… that beskar armor he was wearing had to have come from somewhere, didn’t it?
[X] Switch to Tylo's POV - 58%
[ ] Switch to Ursa's POV - 25%
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