Chapter Text
Today was a very exciting day for Clan Skirata. The first real day of Cin Vhetin. The moment that Verinna would truly get to stake her claim as a growing Haat Mando’ade. Kal had been worried she might be… timid, that he might have to coax her into being willing to learn.
“I want to shoot one of the big ones, Kal’buir!”
He needn’t have worried.
Kal chuckled and stood the IQA-11 blaster rifle next to Verinna. “Maybe when you’re taller than the ‘big one’, ad’ika.” Verinna huffed, but didn’t argue. She was getting better at picking her fights. He handed her one of his empty pistols instead. “Come on.”
Verinna had gotten very good with a vibroblade very quickly. She wasn’t an expert by any means, but she was better than most people her age. It was time to start adding something else to her arsenal.
Kal had explained safeties and stun settings until he’d gone hoarse, Verinna soaking up every word as she always did. He’d tested her on the terms until he was certain she understood before he even let her near the weapon’s cabinet. And even now while she was holding the blaster pistol, the charges were on Kal’s belt, right next to the full medpack.
They’d drilled the motions again and again and again, but there was only so much you could learn from drills.
Kal had touched down on Maridun. It was as good a place to start as any. Maridun was one of the flattest planets in the galaxy, nearly uninhabited. The wildlife was almost exclusively nocturnal. Straight range, no distractions, perfect.
The Madalorians walked a decent distance from the ship, Verinna skipping the whole way. Her excitement was both so very different from his first children and slightly worrying. There was such a thing as being too interested in weapons. Blasters were dangerous, and it was important to understand that, to respect them as such. Still, Verinna was barely 10. Kal would worry about it if she was still this excited when she’ been training for a while.
“This is good.” Kal pressed a few buttons on his vambrace and tossed the aim-bot into the air. It hovered for a few seconds before beeping and flying further back. Kal passed Verinna one charge. It was a little comforting to see her take her time inspecting how everything worked one more time before slotting the charge into place. Even if she was just mirroring him, she was still doing it.
One step at a time.
“What’s the difference between stun and live fire?” Kal asks.
Verinna holds the blaster down in front of her. “Stun has less… recoil.”
“Jate,” Kal says. “You ready?” Verinna is practically vibrating with excitement, but she never takes her eyes off the aimbot. Her nod yes is two quick jerks. Kal can’t stop smiling. “Breath, Verinna.”
“I am.” She sounds every bit like the nine-year-old she is. Kal barely contains his laugh.
“If you say so.” Kal nods out toward the aim-bot. “Take the shot.”
Verinna pulls the trigger. Her stance doesn’t falter, her bent elbows take the shock of the stun bolt’s recoil, like Kal had taught her.
The shot goes meters wide anyway.
“Eh?!” Verinna sounds completely beyond confused. She clicks the blaster’s safety on and lowers her arms. Kal tilts his head, amused, and happy that she remembered the safety.
“No one hits their first shot, ad’ika. I didn’t. ” Kal kneels in the grass so he’s closer to Verinna’s height. “Do you know what you did wrong?”
Verinna is quiet for a long time. She shifts on her feet and doesn’t look at Kal. “No.” Her voice is soft and full of shame.
“Verinna, look at me.” She turns, but still won’t meet his eyes. “What did I just say?”
“No one hits their first shot,” she whispers.
“And how many shots does a WESTAR-34 have per cartridge?”
Verinna meets his eyes. “20.”
Kal nodded toward the aim-bot. Verinna raises her blaster again, a new kind of determination in her eyes. It’s not the look of someone assured of their potential. It's the look of someone who’s going to grab her potential by the throat and make it happen. Verinna will be good with a blaster, because she will make herself good. She will practice until she is the best in the galaxy.
Kal couldn’t be more proud.
By the time the sun set, Verinna had fired every shot in 4 charges. She hit six of those shots, one so accurate it had temporary dissabled the aim-bot. Verinna was still talking about that shot hours later, when Kal was trying and failing to get her to go to sleep. Kal eventually gave up and left her to tire herself out.
== 30 BBY ==
Time passed without any say from the rest of the galaxy and Kal had the distinct honor of watching Vosh’erinna grow up.
Two years had passed and they had changed his foundling. Verinna had always been brave and curious, but now she had the training to turn those into a confidence that fueled her every decision. While it filled Kal with pride, it also worried him. Confidence on its own could lead to reckless decisions. He hoped she’d grow out of it.
Although, Kal thought as he watched her drill motions, he probably had nothing to worry about. Verinna refused to be discouraged by failure. She just picked herself back up, asked questions until she knew what she did wrong and had corrected it.
Verinna fired three shots in rapid succession. Only one connects, but the aim-bot goes spinning and smacks into the wall.
“Jate!” Kal said. Verinna flicked the safety on and lowered her arms. “I’ll have to set the bot to move at this rate.” Verinna beamed. Kal let her have her moment, walking over and ruffling her hair. The burns on her head and face had scarred, but they’d healed cleanly. Meaning, as Kal had to remind himself every time he looked at her, she wasn’t in pain anymore. “Your first two shots missed. Do you know why?”
Verinna, 10, sighed with all the weariness of a 50 year old bounty hunter. “I’m always too tense. I keep thinking-”
Kal’s comm beeps. Both Skirata’s turn and stare.
Kal… Kal is in the middle of a job right now. They’re half-way to Ryloth to catch some low-stakes bail-jumper. The Guild should field all calls from the client, so it shouldn’t be either of them. Kal motioned Verinna far out of frame. She stepped back halfway and leaned like getting closer would help her. Kal gave her an unimpressed look and opened the channel.
“Su cuy’gar, Skirata.” Kal blinked at the little blue figure before him. This didn’t bode well.
“Su cuy’gar, Vau,” he said, managing to keep most of the venom out of his voice. “Me’copaani?”
“Ni ganar a bora,” Vau said. “Ni mirdir gar mav emurrir.” Kal thinks about the kinds of jobs
Walon Vau likes to take, thinks about the place he was in his life when they ran jobs together, and about how bad the job must be if he needs backup.
“I have a fondling, Vau,” Kal said in Basic, not mincing his tone this time.
Vau rolled his eyes and tapped the vibroblade on his belt. “You worry too much, Skirata. If your kid can’t handle this job, they’re not fit to be a Mandalorian.” Kal glared. He should have challenged Vau to an honor duel years ago, just on principle. “Just come listen, di’kut. You don’t have to take the job.”
Kal looked over at Verinna, frowning with narrowed eyes after hearing her buir insulted so plainly and repeatedly. It almost made him smile, but it definitely reminded him that Vau was wrong . Yes, he had to protect his foundling, but it wasn’t like Bounty Hunting was safe. And it wasn’t like Verinna had no idea how to protect herself if it really came to that. She couldn’t hold up against a full grown Mandolorian, but she was slippery. She could get away, if Kal served as a distraction.
And… This job must have been paying a lot, maybe even up front, if Walon Vau was willing to split it with Kal Skirata of all people. It could set them up for a long time. It could get them a better ship. Kark, if Kal was lucky, it might even get him started on Verinna’s armor. She was only a few years off of earning her first pieces of Beskar.
Kal clenched and unclenched his hands, ran over the list of possibilities in his head again, watched Verinna shift her practice knife from hand to hand, and made up his mind.
“Send me the coordinates.”
Kal thought about his hesitation and his conviction later that night, after he tucked Verinna into bed. In another life, one where he never found this little blue warrior, he would have gone off with Vau as soon as the call came in. Kal would have taken this… job, whatever it was, in a heartbeat. It didn’t matter. There had been a lot of dangerous, but well paying jobs that he had avoided these last two years because of Verinna. Before her, what did he have to lose? He had nothing real, nothing tangible, to fight for.
Verinna, just by existing in his life, forced Kal to be careful, forced him to take care of her, and himself by extension. Because he had to take care of her, hold her, help her heal, he had learned to be kinder, to be softer, to be a better Buir. He’s had the thought, several times over the last two years, that he needed Verinna as much as she needed him. The more time passes, the more he’s sure he was right.
He couldn’t imagine what his life would have looked like without her. It probably wouldn’t have been a life at all, even if he’d been alive to try and live it.
== == ==
The coordinates Vau sent them take clan Skirata to a remote moon. Kal wasn’t sure the moon even had a name, given that the planet it orbits only existed in star maps as 27-B. Nevertheless, it had a standard breathable atmosphere, only a little lighter than standard gravity, and plenty of open space for people to land ships. Which was important, since along with the datapack, Vau sent a note: Expect other Haat Mando’ade.
Verinna squirmed in the co-pilot seat the entire descent to the moon, and Kal tried to hide how amused he was. It wouldn’t be appropriate to laugh at her genuine nerves. After all, Verinna couldn’t help that she was intimidated to be meeting so many other Mandalorians all at once, when she’d gone so long only knowing Kal. He’d told her she had nothing to worry about, but that didn’t stop an ad from overthinking. He offered to let her stay on the ship, but she didn't like that option. Verinna hated being left alone, and besides, she’d explained, it wasn't like she was actually scared. It was just… These are her people now. She wanted them to like her.
Kal understood. He had been a foundling too, decades ago. He’d been very worried about meeting his Buir’s clan and friends. It can’t be helped. It just needs to happen.
Kal circled the forest the coordinates lead to until he sees a clearing he can land in. He put down carefully, trying not to damage any of the nearby trees. A forest fire wasn’t what the Haat Mando’ade needed right now.
Kal turned the engines off and stood. Verinna fiddled with the vibrodagger strapped to her belt while she waited for Kal to finish all his post-flight checks. When he left the cockpit, Verinna followed, more subdued than she usually was when she got to land on a new planet. Kal picked up his helmet and slid it on. Verinna fiddled with the hood on her flight jacket before pulling it up.
Kal paused at the ramp and put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. She came up to his ribs now, growing too fast. “Nothing anyone says out there will change what I think about you, Verinna.”
“I know, Buir,” she whispered. Kal felt her square her shoulders under his hand, but she didn't shake out from his grip. “I’m ready.”
Kal ruffled her hair and clan Skirata stepped out onto the moon.
Verinna stuck close to him as they walked out into the clearing, but she never faltered. A few of the Mandalorians they passed inclined their heads in greeting. Most took the time to give Verinna her own greeting. By the time they were rounding the last clump of trees into where the main meeting area is, Verinna had stepped a little away from his side.
There were way more Mandalorians than Kal was expecting. This was more than he’s seen in one place in a very long time, probably not since before-
Oh.
It’d been almost completely repainted since the last time he saw it, but that is definitely the Slave One. There weren’t a lot of Firespray-31 class attack ships left in the galaxy, which means-
Jango Fett was here.
Kal stopped dead in his tracks, grateful that he hadn’t taken his helmet off yet. He didn’t ever expect to… see Jango again. Not after he’d publicly left the role of Mand’alor behind. Kal wasn’t sure what his face would say at the moment, but he knew he didn't want Verinna to see it. She still bumped into his back.
“Kal’buir?”
“Skirata!” Kal tore his eyes away from the Slave One and turned to the woman who called his name.
“Rook,” he acknowledged. Kal’el Rook had repainted her armor, expected given what’s happened to her in the last few years, but the gray and silver where brighter colors used to be still hurts a little. Her hair was starting to go gray, much like Kal’s. She had no foundling trailing behind her. “Su cuy’gar.”
“Su cuy’gar.” Rook stopped in front of them and smiled. “Bal ad’ika! Su cuy’gar, little one.”
“S-su cuy’gar,” Verinna said, waving. “May-meh, um. Me’vaar ti gar?”
“Naas,” Rook said kindly. Her smile was bittersweet. “Still learning Mando’a?”
“It’s my third language,” Verinna said. “I’m having some trouble.”
Rook opened her mouth to say something, but someone else whistled loudly. All the Mando’ade spun toward the unoccupied circle in the center of the ships. Jango Fett, still Kal’s Manda’lor, even if he doesn’t think he deserves the title, was standing on some storage crates in the middle. Kal put an arm around Verinna’s shoulders.
“Mando’ade!” Fett greeted. “You’ve all been invited here by my choice or the recommendation of another member. You can all be trusted.” Verinna clutched a hand in the back of Kal’s shirt, but he was much less worried about her being here than about what Fett might say next. “You should all know, by agreeing to stay and listen, you are agreeing to disappear completely. I can’t say for how long. If those terms are unacceptable, leave now.”
Everyone shifted on their feet. A few Mandalorians saluted or nodded and returned to their ships.
Kal hesitated. On one hand, this job must have paid extremely well, and it’s the closest to years long steady employment. On the other hand, ‘disappear’ could either mean incredible danger or guaranteed safety. He had a kid now. Kal had to survive. While Galidraan wasn’t really Fett’s fault, he didn’t want to go down the same way his buir had.
Verinna, on the other hand, didn’t look worried in the least. She looked interested, excited even, all trace of the nerves from before completely gone. It was as if she'd accepted her place here, among the Haat Mando’ade.
She was right, Kal realized. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, Verinna had led him to a truth he’d forgotten. He was not alone. If this job did end up killing him, then there are people here who will take Verinna in, love her and raise her as much as, as well as, he would.
Kal stayed.
He stayed while Fett explained the job he himself was hired for, explained the coming Clone Army and the Kaminoans and his role in it. Fett said the clones would need training and that he didn’t trust the Kaminoans, whatever those are, to be 30 klicks within competence. He needed each Mandalorian’s help, their specific skills and experience. Fett explained that the clones are a secret, and that everyone who signed on to this job had to disappear until the secret was ready to be revealed, when the oldest “batches” were combat ready.
Then Fett opened the floor to questions. There were a lot, understandably. Kal had a few himself, beginning with “say that again?” By the time most of the questions had been asked and answered, everyone was sitting or leaning on the nearby trees. Verinna had fallen asleep in Kal’s lap and the moon was most of the way through its night cycle.
It was perfect, this job. It was a protected position. Kal could train his foundling while he was training the clones. She would have plenty of opportunities to practice her Mando’a. She would even be able to learn things Kal couldn’t teach her, with all the other Haat Mando’ade there.
“I’ve got one more question,” Kal said, trying to keep his voice down, not wanting to wake Verinna up. “I don’t see any ad’ike here beside mine, so what about her?”
Verinna curled more tightly into Kal’s chest. Oh no, she was awake. Kal held her a little tighter, just to remind her no one was taking her away from him, not even 74 other Mandalorian warriors. Not the Manda itself, if such a thing had any power over this world.
Kal needn't have worried, because whatever reaction Kal was expecting, it wasn’t the fond smile Fett gave him. That was… that was a paternal look. Kal hadn’t seen Jango Fett’s face that soft since… since Jaster was still alive. Since Fett wasn’t the only member of his clan left alive. He wasn’t sure the man’s scared face could ever be that soft again.
“I’m glad someone has a kid,” Fett admitted. “It’ll be good for Boba to have a friend.”
And isn’t that something. The Mand’alor is a father now