The heat of the approaching flames closed in around them with every passing second. The smoke rose like a black cloud from the shriveling stalks of the crop field. Looking back towards the homestead, Jaster watched as the wave of flame rolled straight towards them.

"Field's on fire, let's move," he ordered. One by one, Lynn, Montross and Hos pressed through the stalks, deeper into the field. Jaster couldn't help but linger behind, looking over the homestead of the Fetts, now set fire with flames peeking from the open doorway and windows. He cringed within his armor, regretful that the Fett's had to suffer for he and his men. Jaster had been right from the very start, Viszla was a madman. The barbarian was relentless and cruel, he would stop at nothing to achieve his objectives, and people were going to get caught in the crossfire. Mandalorians and civilians likewise would all die before this would end. Jaster was about to turn away but noticed the young boy still standing at the edge of the clearing. Jango was shaking as he looked towards the rising smoke of his burning home. He whimpered quietly to himself as tears ran down his eyes. He was alone with only himself to hold for comfort. Jaster watched Jango, the symbol of what this war would cost for everyone caught in the middle of it. It was a shame but it was reality, the reality of war. "Your family is dead, Boy," he said. "Come with us, or die here too." The boy didn't move. He was frozen in the immense heat, stuck in the past as it seemed as he looked back on the ruins of everything he knew. The flames were inching closer and the smoke closing in on the air around them, yet the boy wouldn't move. Shaking his head, Jaster turned away, ducking into the field. He couldn't save those not willing to save themselves.

Jklp-Jaster quickly caught up with the others but faster still were the growing flames. Hos tried to push forward as much as possible but was cutoff in nearly every direction he tried by an impenetrable wall of flame.

"It's burning too fast," he growled as he desparately shoveed through the stalks. "We'll never get clear in time!" The four found themselves condensed closely back to back, scanning the haze of flame for an opening. Suddenly, Jaster felt a tug on is arm as someone pulled him away.

"This way," Jango shouted. The boy led Jaster away and the others followed with Hos now picking up the rear. Slowly, Jango led them down a direction the Mandalorians had before disregarded. As far as Lynn could tell. They were being led deeper into the center of the fields. The slower they went, the faster his patience would burn away with the field around them. Trudging forward, Jango tried to shield the flare of heat from his face with his arm.

"Can't see anything," Jaster grunted with equally decaying patience.

"We're almost there," Jango exclaimed. Finally, the boy shoved through the crops to another narrow clearing. Jaster stepped away from the edge of the clearing as he looked up and down the span of a giant metal piping system half submerged in the hard earth.

"An irrigation tube," he observed. Right away, he understood the boy's thinking and cursed himself for not thinking of it himself from his past experience of this zone. Jango ran to the access hatch sealed shut by a valve. With his small, sweaty hands, he struggled to grasp and turn the large, stubborn valve. Montross approached the hatch, nudging Jango aside as he grasped the valve himself. His bare upper arms bulged visibly as he fought against the valve. It gave inch by staggered inch before screeching free and turning with minimal resistence. Lynn scanned the area around them, searching for any possible plan B. But the fire was effective, cutting off any and every topside route they could think of.

"We're surrounded," he called to the others. With a metallic creek, Montross lifted the valve on its hinge and looked down into the dark access hatch. A shallow stream of water leisurely ran through the pipe.

"We can crawl under the fire," Jango said as he climbed onto the pipe and looked into the hatch.

"Or get boiled alive," Montross muttered. Hos and Lynn turned back to Jaster.

"Everyone inside," he barked. Jango jumped in first followed by Jaster and Montross seconds later. One by one they plopped into the stream and crawled on their hands and knees through the water. The glow, though gentle created a cavernous echo down the hollow half of the tube, made worse by the rushed sloshing of the Mandalorians trudging forward. On all fours, the water thrashed up to Jango's neck. The tunnel was pitch black but they didn't have to see anything to know where they were headed in the narrow path of the pipe. After a while of pressing forward, Jango's hand slipped from under him. With a wail, he dropped and slid down the pipe, diving steeply below ground. Behind him, each of the Mandalorians toppled and slid down the slick metal pipe. The steep drop abruptly and painfully came to an end with each of the five bowling each other over now submerged completely by the gathered reserve of water. Amidst the grunts and groans, Jango crawled out from underneath the four armored men. Down the length of the pipe at the far end, he spotted six, short, skinny bars of light just above the water's surface. Jaster too noticed the light, relieved that the tunnel had finally come to a stop.

"This way," he said over the com in his helmet. He motioned as he crawled out in front of the young boy. Taking the lead, he pressed on until the lights of the vent shone on the dark grey dome of his helmet. Shifting around onto his back, Jaster brought back his legs and kicked out hard against the vent cover. One single hit sent the cover flying free of the exposed metal tube. The water rushed free charging over the rocks of a ravine, carrying the Mandalorians with it. Jaster braced himself at the mouth of the pipe then climbed out onto the rocks below. Standing at the opening, he helped Jango down from the tube. The boy was sopping wet with his shaggy locks of black hair plastered over his face.

"You alright?" Jaster asked.

"Fine," Jango coughed. Next out was Hos followed by Montross and Lynn. As the Mandalorians removed their helmets and rested on the rocks, Jango climbed up the ravine, drawn to the billowing back smoke. Looking out over the ledge, he watched as his whole world was eaten away by the destructive fire. The fields were nearly leveled to the ground and his home still burned from afar. The man was right, they were dead, his parents and sister, everything he had ever known. He didn't know of any other family either on or off planet. His tears blended with the sweat and water on his face as his deep clenching feeling of despair gave way to a burning and venomous disdain. As confused as he was as to why this had to happen to him, the confusion came hand in hand with frustration. It boiled inside him and as if suddenly like instinct, he wanted nothing more than to get back at the ones that hurt him.

Lynn ran his hand through his mess of blonde hair as he breathed deeply. Montross leaned against the wall of the ravine, tipping his silver and blue helmet to pour out a small stream of water. Hos sat on a boulder resting his own silver and yellow helmet on his knees. His aged, scarred face never looked so fatigued to Lynn, the youngest of the four warriors. Standing beside the open pipe, Jaster looked over his men, still donning his helmet. His systems were fine and his airtight seal had held up against the water. Gazing over each of them, he noticed a strap worn on Lynn's shoulders.

"Lynn, rifle," he said with an awaiting hand. Obediently, the young Mandalorian unslung his DMR from his shoulder and handed it to Jaster. Jaster gave it a quick, field inspection. It was scuffed and plastered with dirt and mud just like the rest of them, but its charging handle was still smooth. The sights were clean and above all, it still had a full cell of power. It would still serve as a worthy asset. "Check your weapons and catch your breath. We're moving out as soon as it gets dark." Taking stock of left over equipment, not much was left, narrowing their options even further. Jaster was forced to abandon his own DMR the day prior along with Hos and his heavy repeater. All they had in their arsenal were their side arms, Montross' snub rifle and Lynn's DMR. Still inspecting his helmet, Hos glanced down at their dwindling supplies.

"Now we just have to find Viszla. He'll need to resupply," he stated.

"I can take you to the closest town. They sell food and power cells. He'll be there." The haggard gazes of the Mandalorians carried up the wall of the ravine to where the young boy stood poised with his focus still on the rising smoke in the distance. Jaster sensed something in him. He was still the young eight year old but his voice had seemed to sharpen and darken. There was a weight of determination behind his words. Jaster drew his personal Westar-34 from his hip holster and displayed it to Jango. Still the boy looked away to his home.

"You know how to use a blaster, Boy?" he asked.

"Yes. My dad," Jango answered. "He taught me to shoot." Images flashed by his eyes of he and his father going far out into the fields. Broden would stand feet behind his son with his arms crossed, scrutinizing the boy's stance, grip and breathing. For Jaster, other images scrolled through his mind. He had only known Broden for what he was but things had definitely changed. There had been an air of honor among the man, something Jaster had perceived under Broden's hospitality.

"Then he was a good man," Jaster muttered to himself. He turned to the others. Hos and Lynn both watched him while Montross glanced up the ravine wall at Jango. "The boy comes with us." Jango's head perked up slightly as if the words reached him differently than before. He turned away and saw Jaster holding the blaster pistol with the handle spun outward. Jango seemed drawn to the dull shine of the Dallorian alloy in the sun. He slid back down the ravine wall and once at the bottom, reached out and grasped the blaster's handle. The young boy looked into the black Mandalorian 'T' where the man's grey eyes were. Jaster released the blaster then turned away.

"Lynn, take your DMR. You have first watch." The young Mandalorian nodded before donning his helmet over his blonde hair and slinging his rifle on his shoulder. Hos approached Jaster as they moved away from the others.

"Funny," Hos grunted.

"What is?" Jaster replied shortly.

"The boy. He's about the age to start Mando training, but he aint like us."

"He says he can help lead us to Viszla." Hos watched Jaster slyly.

"Never thought you the adopting type," he mused.

"I'm not, Hos. Once Viszla's dead, we're leaving the kid at the first place that will take him."