Alora has been quiet today, and it worries him. They followed their familiar routine, but she hasn't said a word. Not when they were landing, not when the Child used his strange powers, and not when they left his ship in the middle of the burnt forest. She holds the Child close to her chest with her cloak tightly wrapped around her, metal jingling at her sides.
"We back to not talking?" Mando asks, a sliver of worry inching into his voice.
She shakes her head. "Everything here is dead," she replies softly. "The city is walled off. Strategically, we could be walking into the perfect trap."
As they walk up to the gated city together, Alora reluctantly places the Child in a spacious bag, laying the flap over his head gently. Mando watches as she covers her face with her hood and takes a step closer to him.
"We'll be fine," he says. "If anything happens, you know what to do."
Her nod does not reassure him as it usually would.
"State your business." Mando looks up to see soldiers on top of the gate.
"Been tracking for a few days," Mando says. "My associate and I are looking for a layover."
"Nice armor." Alora tenses beside him. "You a hunter, then?"
"That's right."
"Guild?"
"Last we checked," Alora speaks up but keeps her face concealed. Her voice surprises him—it holds an air of authority he rarely hears from her.
The man asking all the questions glances at the other guards. "Open the gate."
They walk together through the metal gate to see a community of people in rags. Mando frowns as he looks around at citizens who hurry out of view while Alora glances behind them at the guards manning the gate and the ones spread throughout the town with loaded blasters.
Her hand wraps around his wrist as she pushes the Child's satchel further beneath her cloak.
"Pardon me, vendor," Mando says as he walks over to a small stand. "Have you heard of anyone—" The old woman walks away, and Mando sighs in annoyance.
Glancing around, he leads Alora to the nearest alley to find a man kneeling before two small children. "You there," Mando calls. "I need some information. I'm looking for someone."
The man nervously dismisses the children before standing as Alora's grip tightens. "Please, do not speak to them or to any of us."
"Look, I just want to know—"
"The Magistrate wants to see you." Mando slowly turns to find two guards behind them. Looking down at Alora, he realizes just how hard it is to read her with her face concealed. Reluctantly, he allows the guards to walk them to the center of town where they see three people trapped on elevated platforms, electricity crackling every few seconds.
"Please, help us," one of them begs as a shock runs through their system.
Mando and Alora wait patiently for the inner gate to open, revealing another gate. Alora is the first to step into the transitional space, her tense shoulders shuddering as the back one closes behind them. "I don't like this," she mutters.
He does not get a chance to respond before the second gate opens, and they walk into a magnificent garden with a woman tending to a small bush. "Come forward," she says.
Alora stays a step behind him as they follow her order, though his wrist remains in her grasp.
"You are a Mandalorian?" The Magistrate asks as she turns to face them.
"Yes."
"I have a proposition that may interest you."
Mando narrows his eyes. "My price is high."
The Magistrate pauses as she moves into the center of the small bridge they all walk on. "This target is priceless. A Jedi plagues me. I want you to kill her."
A small part of him wants to smile, but Alora's grip no longer radiates the heat it did before. She shifts beside him as he says, "That's a difficult task."
"One that you are well suited for. The Jedi are the ancient enemy of Mandalore."
"As he said," Alora replies. "The price is high."
The Magistrate motions for a droid to come forward and place a long spear in her hands. Mando watches as she runs her hands over the spear almost protectively before turning back to the pair. "What do you make of this?"
Alora lets go of his wrist as he steps forward to inspect the spear. He weighs it in his hands, recognizing the material quickly after gently hitting it against his armor. "Beskar."
"Pure beskar. Like your armor. Kill the Jedi, and it's yours."
Handing back the spear, Mando glances back at Alora. He wants to see her face, her reaction, but she gives away nothing as her cloak flicks in the gentle breeze. Tilting her head, she asks, "Where do we find this Jedi?"
✦✧✦✧✦
If there's one thing Alora hates more than dreams, it's walking with no destination. Sure, they have an idea of where this Jedi will be, but it truly is another chase.
Since waking up, Alora's mind has been spinning with the memory her head decided to show her in her sleep. Remembering why she stopped speaking and how destructive her departure was makes it difficult to remember why she started talking again in the first place.
Her body stopped allowing her to speak because Alora Naftiri ceased to exist. She did not deserve to exist in the same way she did before; she rebelled against everything she was taught and everything she lived for—what she was made for. The High General did not deserve or want to remain real.
Speaking again was a sign. She had felt worthy for the first time in so long to bear a voice, to share her thoughts and ideas with another person, even if she will never see his face. Finding her voice, becoming Tiri—it showed her that she can exist without the princess and who she was before. She is not just some lap dog who takes orders because of how she was raised; Alora is her own person.
At least, she hopes she is. The dream reminded her that she had left Leia—severed that connection—only to make a new one with the Child and Mando. She set out to find herself, to complete her promise and find who Alora Naftiri is without the princess by her side, not attach herself to the two people beside her as she did before.
Mando continues to glance back at her, but she remains quiet. "These are the coordinates," he says eventually. "Keep an eye out. We must be close."
She wants to mutter a snarky remark, but she chooses to simply purse her lips.
A rustle from the dead forest makes them both stop. "Did you hear that?" Alora asks as she glances around.
"Let's see what's out there," Mando says as Alora places the Child on a nearby rock.
His wide eyes search the area as he stretches his legs with a content coo. She sits beside him and lets him take her finger in his claws with a small laugh.
"False alarm," Mando says as he takes a few steps away from him.
A bright light makes Alora turn as Mando grunts. She watches two white sabers strike Mando's armor repeatedly as he backs away, leading the assailant away from Alora and the Child.
He whips out his flamethrower, but the Jedi dodges. She isn't fast enough to avoid a hook that wraps wire around her. Alora stands in front of the Child but chooses not to interfere just yet as the Jedi jumps over Mando, pulling him up from a tree branch until he cuts himself from the rope.
Before the Jedi can strike again, Alora's purple sabers spring to life and stop the Jedi's from striking Mando.
Her eyes widen at Alora's weapons as Mando says, "Ahsoka Tano! Bo-Katan sent me."
Alora retracts her lightsabers. "We need to talk."
The Jedi, Ahsoka, also puts her weapons down and straightens up, her eyes drifting to the side. "I hope it's about him."
All three of them look back to see the Child looking at them, his head tilting to the side as his ears twitch.
✦✧✦✧✦
As the moon rises high into the sky, Alora wraps her cloak tighter around her body while a cool breeze sweeps through her hair. Mando paces in front of her, constantly looking at the lantern where Ahsoka and the Child sit in complete silence.
"Please stop pacing," Alora murmurs as she rubs her eyes. "This is what you wanted, right? Drop him off with the Jedi."
"I want to know what they're doing."
Alora adjusts as she sits against the chilling rock. "They're speaking through the Force. I've never quite been skilled enough to do that. I have limited access to it."
Mando pauses, tilting his helmet to her. "What do you mean?"
"I can do the basics. Move small things. I've always been spiritually connected, but that," She motions to the fire. "I've never been able to do that. Only see the dead."
She can sense his surprise. "The dead?"
"I'm joking." She grins. "Or am I?"
Glancing back at the lantern, Alora jumps to her feet when she sees Ahsoka pick up the Child and begin walking over to them. She places the lantern on the ground in front of her and the Child on a nearby rock before fully facing Alora and Mando and sitting on the ground.
"Is he speaking?" Mando asks. "Do you understand him?"
Ahsoka shrugs. "In a way. Grogu and I can feel each other's thoughts."
"Grogu?" Alora repeats. The Child whips his head around to stare at Alora.
"Yes. That's his name."
Alora bites her lip to hide her smile as Mando tests out the name on his lips. "Grogu."
The Child looks at him and coos.
Ahsoka looks between the two of them and sighs. "He was raised at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant."
Everything seems to pause around them as Alora's gaze drifts to Ahsoka. That can't be right—Alora was raised in that Temple before exile. She was there the day the clones turned on the Jedi. She was there when a Jedi betrayed his kind, slaughtered younglings, and ran away. She was there to cry over the bodies and hide from the clones. This Child was not there—he couldn't have been.
She can't hear the words Ahsoka says, a ringing noise buzzing in her ears.
"...Like you." Alora jerks her gaze up to find Ahsoka watching her. "You were there too, weren't you?"
"You weren't," Alora snaps, though her voice comes out cracked. "He wasn't either."
"He remembers differently. He remembers you."
Alora shakes her head, pursing her lips as she blinks away the onslaught of tears. "I remember every face I meet. I have never met another creature like Master Yoda, especially not him." She gets up quickly and walks away, ignoring Mando calling her name.
It can't be possible. She would know, wouldn't she? Yoda would have told her when he made her promise. None of this is possible: a real Jedi knight, the Child knowing her from before, none of it.
She does not stomp too far away, the light from the lantern still in view as Alora stops, tears unwittingly slipping down her cheeks as she desperately tries to stop them to no avail. Flashes of searing blue cross her mind as screams of younglings no older than five fill her ears as if it happened yesterday.
"You cannot run away from this."
"And you didn't?" Alora spins on Ahsoka, furiously shaking her head. "I am not like you. I will never be like you. I am not a Jedi—"
"But you could have been," Ahsoka says, her voice calm compared to the roaring fire in Alora. "Grogu knows your face and a name that not even your Mandalorian friend knows. Who are you?"
"I'm no one." A bitter laugh escapes her lips. "Whoever I was is long gone. The kid doesn't know me—I don't even know me. That innocent child died the day her friends were slaughtered in front of her by a man we were supposed to trust."
Ahsoka's eyes widen in the moonlight. "You survived the slaughter. How old were you?"
"Barely two."
"Then it—"
"It's the first thing I remember." Alora abandons her attempts to wipe her tears. "I remember all of it. I remember some Jedi Master telling us to hide or fight. I remember my friend finding a loose vent in the council room and shoving me in because I was the only one small enough. I remember his body dropping." Stepping up to the Jedi, Alora can sense the grief. "He couldn't have been there. I'd know."
"And if he was?"
"If he was, why didn't Master Yoda tell me?"
"Would you have agreed to find Grogu if he did?"
No.
Alora takes a step back as the truth refuses to escape her lips. If she knew her old Master was asking her to find her past, she never would have agreed. Alora is not one to look back, no matter what.
"Grogu's escape is unclear to him," Ahsoka says after a moment of silence only filled with Alora's sniffling. "How did you get off Coruscant?"
Alora clenches her jaw. "I've been ordered never to say."
Ahsoka lets out a small scoff. "By the color of your saber, I wouldn't take you to be someone to follow orders from beyond the grave."
"I did not choose my lightsabers. Master Yoda did."
Something shifts in her gaze. "I can see why."
Turning her back on the Jedi, Alora stares at the moon as she hugs her sides. She feels violated—used as a pawn in Yoda's funny little games. Except, her life isn't a game for him to move pieces around and laugh. Lorn used her life to terrorize her—to teach her that her place is serving the royal family as he did. Yoda used her life to make himself feel as he once did—superior and wise. And, despite not wanting to accept it, Leia used her life as a backup in case she ever got bored with politics.
"We'll speak again in the morning," Ahsoka says. "But I'd advise you to let go of that anger and talk with your friend. He's worried about you."
"I don't need advice from you or any other Jedi." Glancing back at her, Alora purses her lips. "What was left of the Jedi Order disowned me a long time ago. Deemed me a lost cause."
Ahsoka tilts her head. "Why are you telling me this?"
"You think it's your job to connect with me because we can both wield the Force. This is your out. You don't have to help me because your kind already deemed me unhelpable."
"I have found that those the Jedi Order dismissed are the ones who need help the most."
✦✧✦✧✦
Bro, I love Alora's backstory. Like, as I'm writing the prologue for her, and about her parents and stuff, I just fall in love with my story over and over again.
Hope you enjoyed!
-L