"Fenn Shysa is dead. I am Boba Fett, and I claim the title of Mand'alor."

The device blinked, signaling the end of the recording.

Leia watched from a nearby chair, her hands moving restlessly over her swollen belly. "It's a little abrupt."

"What else do they need to know? They'll either accept it, or they won't." As far as Fett was concerned, the real message would be encoded within the message, not too hard to find for anyone looking. Coordinates to a rendezvous point and a time. An unspoken invitation to challenge his claim.

"Maybe they should know that you didn't kill him."

He lifted his helmet off and laid it aside. "I did kill him."

Leia looked away. "Don't say that. Those damn droids killed him. You saved him from an awful death."

"Which could have been avoided." Anger tightened his throat and strained his voice.

When she looked back up at him, her eyes were full of tears. "He thought he was helping us. If he told you-"

"He would still be alive and I wouldn't be forced to implement his worst idea ever." Fett sat down at the console and began to input the code.

"It's not the worst idea," Leia said after a moment. "People listen to you."

"It's not the same. You lead. I give orders." His fingers were quick over the controls, if slightly more forceful than necessary. "I don't give a fuck about Mandalore, or preserving Mandalorian culture. They can do whatever they want, as far as I'm concerned."

"So tell them that." He turned to look at her, and she tilted her head in response. "You can't rule Mandalorians. You have to give them the freedom to do as they chose, perhaps with a few...sensible suggestions now and then."

Fett returned to his work. "He should have named you the Mand'alor."

"But he didn't." She was silent for a few minutes. "Where are you setting the rendezvous?"

"Brachnor Point, two weeks from today."

"I think I should go with you."

"No."

"Yes," she responded coolly. "You need me."

He turned around and looked pointedly at her belly. "Are you planning to give birth before, after or during the meeting?"

"She's full term now. I'll just have to have her this week, one way or another." Leia shifted in her seat, her expression thoughtful. "Think about it. If you show up alone and armed to teeth, it would be easy for people to assume you killed Fenn out of ambition. If we go together, as a family-"

He stood up and strode over to where she was sitting, leaning over her for emphasis. "This is not a picnic. If they challenge my claim, I have to defend it. If enough clans challenge it, it could turn into war."

His wife looked up at him calmly. "I don't think that will happen. Fenn was never exactly subtle about his desire for a Fett successor."

"Just because it was his wish doesn't make it anyone elses."

There will be clans that stand with us. Bard's clan, for one, and most of the clans from Concord Dawn. The Mandalorian Protectors you've worked with. Clan Ordo, will, I think. And Clan Vevut. Clan Skirata might be a bit of a wildcard. I think Kal would have, but since his death his son Jaing has been running things." Her lips twisted into a wry smile. "The first time I met with him he told me about growing up on Kamino. He said that you were an arrogant little snot and that he and his brothers once put your head down the 'fresher to teach you some manners."

Fett remembered it well. Chronologically, he was the oldest of the clones, but they grew twice as fast and it never seemed fair.

"Don't worry. I won't let anyone dunk you in a 'fresher at the rendezvous."

She was trying to be funny, but Fett wasn't seeing the humor at this particular moment. "It's safer if I go alone."

Leia made a dismissive gesture. "There's not a Mandalorian in this sector who would lay a hand on me or our children. If we do this right, violence is very unlikely."

"Unlikely. Not impossible." Fett dropped to a crouch beside her chair, rubbing his palm over the lower half of his face. "I don't want Jonah and Kyd to be the third generation of Fetts to watch their fathers die."

Her eyes softened, and she reached over and laid her palm against his cheek. "So let's make sure that doesn't happen. You have to trust me, Boba. This is my area of expertise."

Brachnor Point was a lone hill in the middle of a grassy plain. It was out in the open, when standing at the peak you could see for miles around.

Clan Bard arrived at daybreak, a swift response that Leia was deeply grateful for. They came with their armor and their weapons, but they also came with ale and food. Other clans arrived with the same, and by midday, the rendezvous did look sort of like a picnic. Jonah and Kyd were running around with the other children, hiding in the tall grass and shouting back and forth. Her new daughter slept peacefully, completely unaware of her make-shift crib and the people who came by to admire her. At least until she was hungry.

Leia had a comfortable chair and a good vantage point on her husband. He kept the story of Fenn Shysa's death to a minimum of details, but he was civil in his response. Today, that was all that was required of him.

By late afternoon, a few more clans had shown up to replenish the food and drink supply. No one offered a challenge. The sun was beginning to set, casting orange streaks across the sky when her friend Hira stopped and leaned over her chair. "Clan Skirata is here," she murmured. "Every one of them, as far as I can tell."

In spite of Leia's earlier confidence, her stomach fluttered and her eyes immediately went searching for Jonah and Kyd. They were with their father, sharing a few slices of uj cake. Her husband slowly stood as Jaing Skirata and two of his brothers approached. Fett's eyes went briefly to his helmet, but when he looked at Leia, she gave a subtle shake of her head.

He could do this. She knew he could.

Jaing removed his helmet as well, the two men with their features so similar, facing off in silence. Jaing finally spoke. "So. Mand'alor, is it?"

"It is," Fett replied evenly.

There was a pause, and then Jaing's eyes slid past Fett to where Leia was sitting. "Senator. You're looking well."

"Thank you," she replied graciously. "You'll excuse me, I hope, for not getting up. Come meet our new daughter. " She lifted the baby from her bed. She was awake now, her dark eyes searching the sky. Leia handed her up to Fett. In the eight years since Jonah's birth she had managed to forget how fragile humanity comes into the world, how small and how light. Fett held their daughter easily in his gloved hands, and her wandering eyes focused momentarily on his face. It was a such a little thing, the way he looked down at her with a faint expression of approval and the way her eyes seemed to reflect the same. Father and daughter. A little thing, but an important thing. A precious thing.

"A fine strong girl," Jaing said. "What's her name?"

"We named her Shysa," Fett answered, transferring her to the crook of his arm. His right hand spread protectively over her and she squirmed and grasped at one of his fingers.

"Shysa Fett," Jaing acknowledged with a wry smile. "Fenn would have liked that."

Her husband kept his eyes on their daughter. "Yes. He would have."

"I think that calls for another toast," Verlen Bard announced, offering cups of ale to the newest arrivals. "I don't know about you boys, but I'm not nearly drunk enough. Someone go get us some wood for a fire. If we're going to properly memorialize Fenn Shysa, we've got a ways to go."