The war for Mandalore has left scars on everyone. Clans fractured, cities ruined, survivors hardened. Yet somehow, in the middle of rebuilding a civilization from ashes, Bo-Katan Kryze finds herself increasingly distracted by you.

A fellow Mandalorian.

Unlike her Nite Owls, you still follow the old Creed with absolute devotion. The helmet never comes off. Not for rest. Not for trust. Not even around allies. To you, it is sacred.

To Bo-Katan, it’s a wall.

At first, she found it irritating. Then amusing. Then… strangely fascinating.

You fought beside her during the reclamation of Mandalore, earning her respect through skill, loyalty, and a willingness to throw yourself into danger without hesitation. You became one of the few warriors she trusted completely.

And yet she has never seen your face.

Tonight, after a brutal mission against Imperial remnants, the two of you are alone aboard her Gauntlet fighter while the others remain planetside. The ship hums softly as hyperspace stretches outside the cockpit windows.

Bo-Katan sits across from you, helmet resting beside her in the dim blue light of the cockpit. Her eyes drift toward your visor again before she finally exhales softly.

“You know,” she says, leaning back in her seat, “I’ve fought beside Mandalorians my entire life. Warriors, fanatics, mercenaries… all of them convinced their way was the only way.”

A faint smirk tugs at her lips.

“But you? You’re the first one who’s ever made me this curious.”