A Match for the Mandalore

We broke up the council so everyone could be ready when we landed, and Atton returned to the cockpit. Ladria, Bao Dur, Canderous and I stayed in the common room, talking.

“What can you tell us of your society structure?” Ladria asked, leaning forward with an interested look on her face.

“It’s pretty simple, actually. Of course, it’s been totally shattered for the last fifteen years. But basically, we have a military structure: the Mandalore is the supreme head, and everyone has a sort of rank. Women who don’t fight, or can’t because of pregnancy or other reasons, are often camp followers during campaign, supporting the troops, and their spouse. I never let Gerda follow the army, she was a good fighter as all Mandalorians are trained, but didn’t care to be a soldier, and I wanted the children out of it. She agreed, after about ten hours of arguing. Now I wish in a way I hadn’t been adamant about it; she might have lived if she’d been with me. But then, I wouldn’t have met Jennet.”

He smiled at me, and I smiled back. I understood. I also noticed he was talking more than he ever did, and about far more personal things. He obviously trusted Ladria and Bao Dur more than he let on; I was sure he felt that way about most of the crew, as well. I refrained from comment, and let him continue.

“The Elders are our spiritual guides, and are another ruling body. They have power over the entire society, including within limits the Mandalore. They often are the ones to choose when to fight, or where to go, but leave the actual strategy and battle to the Mandalore and the army. We consult, but don’t always follow their advice.” He grimaced. “Usually when we don’t, it doesn’t go well.”

“Do you have Seers?” Ladria asked.

“Very rarely. It’s almost as rare as true mates. When one does crop up, they’re honored, but often feared as well. They automatically become part of the Elders, regardless of age.”

“How do you become an Elder? Is it automatic at a certain age?” Bao Dur asked with interest.

“No. Elders are elected by other Elders. You can’t become one, unless you’re a Seer, until at least your eightieth year. We’re a long-lived race; it’s not unusual to live to 150 or so. 120 is about average, if not killed in campaign.”

“Interesting,” Bao Dur said sincerely.

“How, exactly, did you get involved with this Cressa, and what happened to make her leave?” I asked suddenly.

We hadn’t covered that, and I thought it would be good for at least Ladria and Bao Dur to know. The more information, the better to combat it, and we were asking for their help. Jarxel, I assumed, already knew, or guessed; it would be best for both camps to know the full story. I didn’t want to put him on the spot, but figured it was better that than his friends being in the dark. I sent him a silent explanation, and he sent back his resigned acknowledgement.

“Well,” he said slowly, trying to find words, “I was working for an Exchange boss in the Outer Rim, and had gone to Nar Shadaa for him on business. Cressa was there, looking for bounties, when I went to the head of the Exchange for a meeting. Go-To wasn’t boss then; it was a man named Cyrus Axel. I recognized her, of course, and we agreed to meet for drinks to catch up later.” He grimaced. “I hadn’t liked her a whole lot when she was in the army; she was ambitious even then, and often insubordinate. I had a lot of complaints from her commanders during the war. But she was the first Mandalorian woman I had met in nearly two years, and I guess…I was homesick.”

It cost him to admit it. I refrained from patting his shoulder, or showing any sympathy outwardly; it would make things worse. I settled for mental show of encouragement and he responded rather gruffly, but gratefully.

“We had a few drinks, and she wheedled me into an introduction to my boss. I took her along when I returned, and she proved useful. It took her a month to get me in her bed; I really wasn’t all that interested, but she persisted, and played on the kinship of race. She could do tough-but-vulnerable very well, I discovered later.”

Was she good in bed? I couldn’t help it, the thought just popped into my head.

Yes. His answer was simple, but grudging. But she was very practiced, and selfish. I’ve learned better since then.

I was glad he hadn’t made an outright comparison, and knew his assessment was honest. I glowed a bit, the fact that he hadn’t bothered to compare meant he didn’t feel he had to; he trusted me to know there wasn’t one.

“She was convenient, made it clear she was available, and I was lazy. I made it clear to her it was an arrangement, not a commitment, and she seemed to be content with that. I discovered early she was a completely self-centered bitch that would do or say anything to get ahead. I wasn’t much better, but I was honest, and didn’t care for her manipulations. She wormed her way up the chain, partly by sleeping her way there, and charming anyone who might be useful.” His face was dark with remembering.

“She ended up with your boss, didn’t she?” Ladria asked shrewdly. I was glad; kept me from asking. Bao Dur nodded, as if he had come to the same conclusion.

“Oh yeah. I was only a matter of time; she’s very beautiful outwardly, and can be charming, if she chooses. Combine that with her fighting skills and complete lack of morals, it can be deadly; to a certain sort of person, it’s irresistible.” Canderous grimaced. “I honestly didn’t give a shit who she slept with; it took her six months to snag Edmand Garr, my boss, and I knew perfectly well before that she only kept me on retainer, so to speak. I was using her as well; seemed a fair trade. I did quit sleeping with her when she was with Garr; it's never a good idea to be in competition with your boss, and it was a good excuse to stop without making her a complete enemy. I wasn’t a good person then, not sure I am now, even. But I did have honesty and some loyalty; when I got wind that she was involved in an assassination plot against Garr, I confronted her.”

“Why would she do that?” I asked, surprised. “Isn’t that biting the hand that fed her?”

“She wanted permanence, a place. She didn’t care where, as long as there was power, and plenty of credits, and Garr had both. But he wasn’t a stupid man, he knew she couldn’t really be trusted, and kept her dangling for another six months. She got impatient, and decided to kill him, stealing what she could in the process. I heard about it from the poor slob she convinced to help her. I’d had my suspicions, got him drunk, and he spilled.

Didn’t even take too many threats; by that time, he was terrified of Cressa, and pretty sure she meant to make him the scapegoat. Which meant he’d be dead, too, even if the attempt succeeded - whoever took over would kill him out of hand. I paid him to disappear. Garr was away on business at the time.”

“That was generous of you,” Bao Dur said quietly.
Canderous looked at him sharply, but there was no sarcasm in the Iridonian’s tone or face.

“I don’t kill people for being stupid,” Canderous said gruffly. “He was basically a good kid, just naïve, and Cressa is difficult to see through even when you’re not young and a moron. Garr would have seen him dead; I didn’t agree that was necessary. And I felt responsible, I’d brought that viper into our midst to begin with.”

He sighed. “None of the people involved could be classified decent human beings, including me. I didn’t really feel guilty for bringing Cressa into the organization; they were all corrupt adults with a knack for survival. I did feel bad for Brinks, though; he was just young, and lost. I gave him credits, and poured him onto a ship. He was pretty smart, and I gave him the best chance I could.”

“So the permanence you spoke of earlier was Garr, not you.” I said. Canderous nodded. "And the attitude she objected to was you trying to keep her claws out of your boss?”

“Something like that. I didn’t care much if she fleeced him, although I probably would have put a stop to that too. But I did care who she might hurt or what she might do if she did get the power she was after.”

“So you got Brinks away, then you confronted Cressa,” I prompted.

“Yes. She tried to pretend she didn’t know what I was talking about. I’d taken her out of the area, pretending to want to resume our relationship. She was Garr’s personal assassin by then, and I was pretty high up too. I gave her a choice – disappear, or I would turn her in to Garr. She didn’t believe me, at first. But she did know that if I carried through my threat, it would be me that killed her.”

You were Garr's second, weren't you? I asked silently. I was pretty sure Ladria and Bao Dur had figured that too, but they were tactfully not asking.

Yes.

I could feel the shame in him, and I wanted to take that away. I knew from the start he'd done terrible things, and not just in war. He wasn't making excuses for himself; just being straightforward about what sort of person he'd been. He trusted me enough not to try and make himself look better, and had honor enough to admit his faults. I sent him a flash of understanding. He didn't relax much, but I could tell he appreciated it.

His face was utterly blank as he continued his story. “Cressa was a good fighter, and a dirty one, but she knew I could beat her, and I would likely just kill her then and spare me the trouble. I’d already come up with a story that didn’t involve Brinks, and was going to explain his disappearance by saying he went home, and had asked for permission from me when Garr was away. In a way, it was true.”

“So what happened?” asked Ladria, green eyes fixed on Canderous.

“She tried to kill me,” Canderous said emotionlessly. “Drew on me, and tried to put a hole in my chest. I got hit, but was faster; I disarmed her and threw the blaster into the lake we were standing by. She went crazy for a while and tried to take me bare-handed. I overpowered her and told her to leave or I’d break her neck.” He scowled. “I guess I should have.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” I said. He looked at me, surprised. “You’re not like that, killing in cold blood. And she was one of you, however evil.”

“Wildcat, I could cry that you think that of me, but I have killed in cold blood. I’m not proud of it now,” he said quietly. “But then, I didn’t care. She wasn’t much different than any other whose blood is on my hands.”

“Revan was a mass murderer who killed for ambition. You killed to survive. If she can be redeemed, it’s a much smaller step for you to atone,” Ladria said quietly. “I myself fell to darkness, starting by defying the Council and following Revan and Malak. You aren’t that hate-filled person now, haven’t been for a very long time. It started well before Jennet came along.”

“I killed during the war not to protect the innocent, but because I hated the Mandalorians and what they had done,” added Bao Dur, his gentle eyes bright. “I have spent much of my life since then trying to make up for that hate. And now I consider you, a former enemy, one of my closest friends. I’m glad of that, but we all have things to make up for.”

“I killed my mother,” I said abruptly.

Canderous looked at me, completely shocked. Even Ladria and Bao Dur looked taken aback. But then something passed between me and her, and she nodded. Bao Dur caught it too, and gave me such a gentle look I almost burst in to tears. But I swallowed hard, and stared into Canderous’s blue eyes, hoping he could understand.

“She asked me to, and I did. She was sick, and I knew it, but…” I stopped for a moment. “She was dying, and didn’t want to suffer. Her healing was useless, as was mine. I tried everything, but she had waited so long to be with Dad again, and we both could tell in the end, all she would be was a shell. So she asked me to help her hold the poison inside, because she knew she couldn’t keep her body from expelling it alone. I held her hand until she was gone. And I knew I shouldn’t have done it.” I paused, getting myself under control.
When I could speak I said quietly, “You didn’t ask me what I saw when Kriea had us in thrall. Now you know.”

There was a look I couldn't quite identify on Canderous's face, but his emotions were coming through like a warm current through my mind. I realized with a start that it was compassion.

“That wasn’t cold blood, Wildcat. That was mercy. You’re stronger than I could ever be,” Canderous said seriously. He reached out and wiped away the tears that had started to fall, then gathered me in. I leaned on him for a minute or two, then looked over at Ladria. She looked smiled gently at me.

“Jennet, you’re one of the brightest souls I’ve ever seen. You’re human, that’s all.”

“I think you need to check your own aura before you say that about mine,” I said sincerely. “But thank you. I don’t really regret it,” I said quietly. “She’s at peace now. But I did resent it, sometimes even now. I think to myself, if she’d hung on, maybe we could have found a cure, and maybe I wouldn’t have been alone. And that’s the part that I most feel guilty about; I wanted her to continue to suffer because I needed my mom.”

“That just proves the point,” Bao Dur said. “You had a choice, and it was mercy, not your own needs.”

“Exactly,” Canderous rumbled. “I was never very good at mercy.”

“But you are,” I protested. “You could have let Brinks be caught, and killed; instead you made sure he got away. You had every right to kill Cressa; I probably would have. But you gave her the choice to leave, and live.”

“Maybe so. But I’ve done plenty of other things that I have to account for, and regret now.” Canderous said seriously.

“I’m willing to bet that almost every time, if you had a choice of killing, or solving it without violence, you chose not to kill.” I said stubbornly.

“Maybe.”

“And,” I said fiercely, “Ladria’s right, even if you weren’t a good person once, you sure as hell are now.”

“I’m not going to win this argument, am I?”

“Nope.”

“All right, Wildcat. I’ll admit I’m not the same person I was. But I have a long way to go, and truthfully I’m quite happy the way I am.” Canderous said with finality.

“Then let me show you something,” I said, and took his hand. I shifted my sight, and looked at his aura, letting him see what I did.

It was even brighter now than the second time I had looked. The red was fading, the black more charcoal, and the blue-white far outweighing the dark. The serenity I’d seen before was a brilliant blue center, and his aura was melding into mine. I heard him inhale sharply, not quite a gasp, and he looked over at Ladria’s and Bao Dur’s auras, too. Bao Dur was a brighter aura, but not so different from Canderous’s. I felt him recognize the similarities, and his start of wonder at it. I smiled, knowing that even if he doesn't fully believe what he saw, I'd made him think.

Then he directed me to look closer at my own. I don't usually do that; call me cowardly but I don't personally like to face my own faults so directly. I've never asked but I'm pretty sure most Jedi avoid checking their own auras regularly as well. But because Canderous asked me to, I looked. To my shock, mine was a lot like Ladria’s, the red darker, but no black at all. It was blue-white, not the intense pure white of hers, but nearly as luminous. It was merging with Canderous's own, and where they joined was a bright, pure white, almost blinding. I blinked.

“That’s not me,” I said numbly.

“Yes it is, Wildcat.” Canderous assured me, with Ladria echoing him.

I shifted my sight back to normal. “Well, the Force is full of shit; I’m not that nice a person.” I said irritably.

Everyone laughed, and the spell was broken.

“I’m inclined to agree, Wildcat, at least on my own account.” Canderous said comfortably. “But I’m glad to know how you see me.”

“One day, you’ll see I’m right,” I said, scowling.

“What did you tell Garr about Cressa’s disappearance?” Bao Dur changed the subject; or rather, got it back on track.

“I didn’t say anything.” Canderous admitted. “When he got back, she was gone, and so was a large chunk of his wealth. I didn’t take it; she had cleaned him out just before I let her go. He put a contract out, but never found her. Garr was killed by a rival Hutt a year later, and I moved on. After his death, she was free.”

"Why didn't you take over after Garr's death?" Bao Dur asked curiously. Canderous looked at him in surprise, then resignation. The Iridonian was indirectly acknowledging what I had already guessed; that Canderous was Garr's second. There was no reproach in his voice, merely curiosity.

"One, I never was interested in being an Exchange boss. Seconds have far more freedom, and I always wanted an out if I needed it." Canderous sounded matter of fact. "Two, when a boss is killed, the second is often to blame, or blamed even if he had nothing to do with it. In Garr's case, it was clearly nothing to do with me; I wasn't even there at the time. One of the inner circle contacted me when Garr was killed, and I reported up the chain. I was offered another position elsewhere, not as high up, but comfortable enough. I took it for a while, and eventually got a rep as reliable and honest - ironic, since most of the business was based on thievery, murder, and lies - so I ended up floating around various Exchange organizations as sort of an inside man. Not many bosses I worked for realized I actually reported higher up than them."

Bao Dur nodded, and Ladria and I echoed the gesture. I knew what he had done for the Exchange wasn't good, but he had done his best even then to stick to his own code of honor. My heart broke a little for what he had been driven to do by hopelessness, self-hatred and the loss of his people. I despised what he had done, but I could understand, and forgive. I hoped one day he could forgive himself.

I hated to ask, but needed to know. "How did you manage to survive the last five years after Davik Kang was killed by you and Revan and her group? If you reported higher on the Exchange chain, surely they didn't just let you go."

"Well, Wildcat, that's a good question. Something Revan never knew, or if she guessed she never said, and I've never told anyone until today - the Exchange itself put the hit on Davik."

Ladria looked astonished, and Bao Dur and I just stared. "Huh?" I said stupidly.

"When I met Revan, I knew I wanted out. But I wanted a clean break, one that didn't involve me fighting off bounty hunters for the rest of my life, with the price of a small planet on my head. So I reported up the chain the secret deals Davik had been making without Exchange approval. I produced the proof, claiming I had withheld it until I had gotten enough evidence to support my suspicions. They ordered a hit on Davik, and I agreed with the condition that in lieu of payment or another job within the organization, I would be let go, no strings attached." He smiled grimly. "I told them truthfully that I needed to concentrate on finding my own people and reorganizing them again. They did assume I would make a useful contact as Mandalore; I let them."

He turned to Ladria. "I've had a few private conversations with Go-To 'bot since we picked him up, and reestablished my freedom in exchange for my help for solving the threat against the Republic. I was going to help in any case, but saw no reason not to ensure that I would be left alone when the threat was over. I knew he'd recognized me immediately. I didn't want any misunderstandings that I'd welshed on my end. I've made it clear that I'm not going to be a tool of the Exchange. He agreed, and I'm free. I didn't bring it up before because I didn't want anyone else at risk but myself. I apologize for withholding information, and if I made the wrong choice in doing so. It honestly wasn't that I didn't trust you."

Ladria nodded, her face grave. "I can understand your motive. It doesn't matter now, in any case, and I can see you were trying to protect the crew."
There was a moment of silence as the four of us absorbed Canderous's story, and our reactions to it. Then I spoke up.

“Let me sum up the current situation, then.” I said, trying to weave together the tangled web. “Cressa manipulated you into getting her in to an Exchange organization, slept her way eventually to the top, continuing to sleep with you from time to time, just in case she didn’t get what she wanted. She was denied a permanent place with your boss - in other words, marriage - so she decided to rob and murder him. You found out, and let her go. So now, she what, hates you for letting her live?”

“I think so, yes. She's very used to getting what she wants, and can carry a grudge forever. To her mind, I maliciously denied her the chance to move up in the world. I think she did some quick thinking when she found out I was now Mandalore, and decided to make a play for it. The prestige of being the Mandalore’s wife would appeal; she could queen it over everyone. It would give her an opportunity to get back at me for losing her place with Garr, nearly ultimate power of her own people, and bind me to her. Irritating the shit out of me in the process would simply be a bonus; she always did want the most what she couldn't have.”

“And it would give her what she’s always wanted, a place in the world,” Ladria said softly. “I think in some perverted sense, she sees you as the only man strong enough to match her. I would be willing to assume not many have bested her. But you did.”

Canderous looked startled at that, then thoughtful. “I can see that.”

“So what, she hates him, but loves him?” I asked, bewildered.

“So it would seem,” Ladria said. “To someone like her, hate is love. I’ve seen it before.”

“I guess it makes sense in a fucked up sort of way,” I said, scowling. “But it doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Bao Dur said easily. “You’re a good person, and know what real love is. Cressa doesn’t, and likely never will. I pity her.”

Canderous snorted. "You're far more generous than me. Well, maybe not; pity is the one thing that would make Cressa crazier than she already is."

"I agree," Bao Dur said serenely.

Canderous let out a bark of laughter. "You're a lot more devious than you let on," he said admiringly, grinning at the Iridonian.

"You have no idea," Ladria said under her breath.

I looked at her, but there was nothing on her face to explain the remark. I was pretty sure she was unaware that she had said anything. I shrugged, and let it go.
Ladria said thoughtfully, “It would explain why she had a contract handy, as well. We have to assume she does; this power play would be a bit of a long shot if she didn’t have some proof. She would know Canderous would not back her claim. I’d be willing to bet she had it made years ago, with some idea it might come in handy in the future. It’s possible she’s done that with many of her lovers; it gives her leverage over them.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Canderous agreed.

“This would be a hell of a lot easier if we could just kidnap her and accidentally blow her out the garage hatch just out of atmo,” I groused.

Canderous looked at me, his face lighting up.

“Wildcat, you’re a genius,” he said happily, kissing me soundly.

“I am?” I said stupidly. “Nice of you to finally notice.”

“You’ve given me an idea. Let’s wait until Jarxel gets here, but I think it will work.”