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“My name is Canderous of Clan Ordo,” the big man shouted. “And I don’t lay down my weapons for anyone!”

From the stunned silence it was clear his name had gotten their attention.

“How do we know you’re really Canderous?” one of the other sentries demanded. This was also a man’s voice, deeper than the first.

“Well, Edric,” Canderous replied, “I could punch you in the face until I straightened out that crooked beak of yours, but we’d probably all freeze to death before I finished.”

The sentry barked out a laugh, slung his gun over his shoulder, threw his arms wide, and ran to enclose Canderous in a fierce hug. “It’s good to see you again, brother!” he shouted.

Revan was relieved to see that the other sentries had also lowered their weapons. They came forward to form a tight circle around Canderous as they clasped his hands, slapped him on the back, and offered loud traditional greetings in Mando’a.

After a few minutes the one Canderous had called Edric spoke up again.

“Let’s get you and your friend out of the cold,” he said in Basic. “Leave your sled; we’ll have someone else come get it.”

The other three sentries stayed at their post as Edric led Revan and Canderous through the camp toward the supply shack in the center. As they passed the tents, heads poked out to see what was happening; shortly a small crowd had grown in the newcomers’ wake. Revan could hear a buzz of excitement building, but his Mando’a was too rusty, and he couldn’t pick out what was being said.

At the door of the building, Edric stamped his boots clear of snow before going inside; his guests did the same.

The first thing Revan noticed was the warmth. His goggles fogged up, and he was only too happy to remove them to get a better view of the surroundings.

As he had suspected, the shack served as both supply hut and meeting room. There were seven or eight Mandalorians already inside the building, lounging among the crates and packages, using them as makeshift furniture. In one corner was a massive pile of coats, scarves, and gloves. Edric was already stripping off his cold-weather gear and tossing it on the pile. Revan quickly and gratefully followed suit.

Canderous didn’t have a chance to do the same. The instant he removed his goggles and unzipped his hood to expose his face, he was swarmed. Another round of traditional Mando’a greetings rose up from the well-wishers, and Revan couldn’t help but notice the pure joy on his friend’s face as he was reunited with the other members of his clan.

One of the things Revan had always admired about the Mandalorians even as he’d fought them was their loyalty. The ties that held a clan together went beyond friendship and even family; it was an essential part of the culture, ingrained in children from the day they were born or adopted into the clan.

Not wanting to detract from the moment, he stood a respectful distance away. He was just beginning to wonder how much longer the celebratory reception would continue when the door swung open and a tall, broad-shouldered figure forced its way into the room.

The door slammed shut, and everything went silent. Nobody spoke as the figure peeled away the layers of clothing, revealing the face of an attractive woman. She had olive skin, and her straight, shoulder-length black hair was streaked with purple and red highlights. Her high, sharp cheekbones were tattooed with intricate blue swirls. Her eyes were also blue, but so pale they looked like shards of ice.

Unlike everyone else they had come across, she didn’t rush over to greet Canderous. Instead, she glared at him without saying a word.

“Su cuy’gar, Canderous,” she finally said.

It was a common Mandalorian greeting, but something about the way she said it made Revan think the literal translation of the words—So you’re still alive—was closer to her true intent.

“Su cuy’gar, Veela,” he replied softly.

She took a step toward him, then snapped her head to the side to stare at Revan. She was tall enough to look him in the eye.

Without looking back at Canderous, she asked him in Mando’a, “Do you want me to