A marriage of alliance
2 years later
Harrison’s commando unit, known as the "Strikers” grew in strength and renown. They were a formidable force, striking fear in the hearts of their enemies. Bo-Katan, ever by his side, had become his number 2 and they had formed a secret relationship together.
The Strikers operated from a Teroch-class Mandalorian Cruiser known as “ The Flaming Arrow”
The Flaming Arrow was a symbol of Harrison’s growing influence and the commitment of the Death Watch to his cause. It was a sleek, black vessel that cut through the stars with the precision of its namesake, a silent harbinger of the fiery justice he sought to bring to the galaxy.
The ship is operated by its own crew, has a state of the art hyperdrive, crew quarters for 70 people, a brigand a hanger capable of holding 50 Gauntlet starfighters and 20 Fang fighters and 20 Talon fighters, as well as space for 20 speeder bikes. Also the ship had deflector shields and war armed to the teeth with cannons to fight off any enemy ships. Also the ship carries a garrison of 40 Deatch Watch troops loyal to Harrison, he had plans of turning them into Mandalorian Marines.
The Strikers were the best of the best and they were force sensitives Harrison had discovered among Death Watch. With the Jedi giving Mandalore a wide berth it wasn’t too hard to find some force sensitives. Harry had been messing around with Bo, showing off his force powers when they discovered she too had the ability to use the force. Harry had trained all the Strikers in the ways of the force, using lessons he received from the ghosts. They were equipped with lightsabers Harry had scavenged from Yavin 4 and Malachor.
The Strikers were Harrison in command with Bo-Katan as his 2nd in command. There was Jace Saxon, Cassius Fett, Ursa Wren, the twins Layla and Axel Ordo, Skye Rau and Darius Kast.
Jace Saxon was the sharp shooter of the team, his precision with a sniper rifle was unrivaled. He had a cold, analytical approach to combat and was often the silent observer, calculating the odds and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. His eyesight was enhanced by the force, allowing him to make shots that seemed impossible.
Cassius Fett, on the other hand, was a master of heavy weaponry. The thunderous boom of his rocket launcher was a sound that echoed through enemy lines, signaling the arrival of destruction. He was a stoic warrior, his face always hidden behind a tactical helmet, but his dedication to the Mandalorian cause was as fierce as any.
Ursa Wren brought a unique ferocity to the Strikers. As a sharpshooter and demolitionist, she had an unparalleled knack for turning the battlefield to her advantage. The twins, Layla and Axel Ordo, were a whirlwind of blades and acrobatics, their lightsaber dueling a dance that left enemies disoriented and defenseless.
Skye Rau, with her uncanny ability to navigate and survive in the most treacherous of environments, served as the group’s scout and saboteur. Her affinity with the living world allowed her to blend in seamlessly with the flora and fauna of any planet they visited, making her an invaluable asset during reconnaissance missions.
Darius Kast was the squad’s healer and tactician, his deep connection to the Force allowing him to mend the wounds of his comrades and read the flow of battle. His strategic mind was often the difference between victory and defeat, and his calmness under pressure was a balm to the fiery spirits of the others.
Each Striker had honed their Force abilities to match their combat specialties. Bo-Katan’s agility and prowess with the lightsaber were unrivaled, her blade a blur of motion in the heat of battle. Her connection to the living force allowed her to anticipate enemy moves and strike with unparalleled precision.
As for Harrison, his specialty was his deep connection to the Force. In combat, he was a maelstrom of power, his silver lightsaber a beacon of balance amidst the chaos. He could feel the ebb and flow of the battle around him, anticipating every move and countermove. His tactical mind was sharp, analyzing every situation with a cold, calculated precision that left no room for error.
His leadership skills were unparalleled; he inspired his team with his unwavering confidence and strategic prowess. The Strikers looked up to him, not just as their commander, but as the embodiment of the Mandalorian warrior spirit. His every gesture, every order, was imbued with the strength of his conviction.
Their missions were daring and diverse. From the dense jungles of Yavin 4, where they uncovered ancient Jedi artifacts, to the fiery pits of Malachor, where the dark echoes of the Sith still lingered. They had raided pirate bases on the edge of the Outer Rim, their lightsabers slicing through the shadows as they brought order to lawless space.
On Russan, they had waded through the frozen wastes, their armor gleaming against the stark white backdrop, to intercept a convoy of slavers and set the captives free. The sound of their blasters had echoed off the ice, sending a clear message to those who would prey upon the weak. The gratitude in the eyes of the rescued was a testament to their valor.
Malachor had been a more somber affair. The air there was thick with the residue of the dark side, a constant reminder of the Sith's destructive power. They had ventured into the ancient Sith temple, the very heart of the planet's malevolence, to claim a powerful relic. The battles they had faced there had been fierce, the darkness trying to claim them, but Harry's resolve and the unwavering loyalty of his Strikers had seen them through.
The blueprints stolen from Kessel had been a boon to their cause. They had allowed Death Watch to upgrade their fleet, making their vessels faster and more maneuverable than ever before. With the new ships, they could outpace any pursuers and strike at the heart of their enemies from the shadows.
They had broken prisoners out of prisons on mandalore, many had been imprisoned by Satines regime for resisting her radical changes.
Their most daring heist was the capture of a Hutt freighter. It had been a flawless operation, a testament to Harry's tactical acumen and the Strikers' unity. The freighter, laden with precious credit shipments for the Hutt cartel, had been their target for months. They had studied its routes, its defenses, and the personalities of the Hutt guards that patrolled its corridors.
The night of the heist, The Flaming Arrow dropped out of hyperspace, silent as a shadow, and swooped in behind the lumbering freighter. The Strikers, clad in their gleaming armor, boarded the ship with the precision of a surgical strike. The Hutts had never seen anything quite like it—a coordinated attack that was over almost as soon as it began. Harry had led the charge, his lightsaber cutting through the Hutt guards like a hot knife through butter.
The freighter's captain, a bloated Hutt named Vornsk, had squealed and blustered, his tiny arms flailing as he begged for mercy. Harry had looked down at him with a mix of disgust and amusement. "Your treasures will fund our cause," he'd said, his voice a cold, metallic rumble. "Your greed will be the downfall of your empire."
The credits they had stolen from the freighter had been a much-needed windfall for Death Watch. With the funds, they had been able to bolster their forces and spread their influence further across the galaxy. The Strikers had become a legend among the Mandalorians, a symbol of hope in a time of oppression.
Also Pre was masquerading as the governor of Concordia and pretended to be Satine’s ally. She had no idea he was the leader of Deatwatch, nor that Harrison was the leader of the notorious Strikers, a group she despised because they negatively portrayed Mandalorians as killers and brutes. To Satine, Harrison Vizla was her sisters friend and a rising businessman. Harry had his name on numerous businesses on Mandalore, but in reality they were safe houses, weapons stores and credit laundering.
Satine knew that she had to tread carefully. The balance of power on Mandalore was a precarious thing, and alliances were often forged in the heat of battle. If she could strengthen the ties between Houses Vizla and Kyrze, it could mean the difference between peace and war.
So, when Satine called for a gathering of the great houses, the air was thick with anticipation. The grand ballroom of the Royal Palace of Mandalore buzzed with whispers and speculation. The walls were adorned with the banners of the various houses, their colors vibrant against the gleaming durasteel.
Satine took her place upon the throne, her features a picture of stoicism as she addressed the assembly. "Honored guests, today marks an important day in our history. I have come to announce an alliance that will strengthen our people and unite us under a common cause."
Her eyes searched the room, finally settling on Bo-Katan and Harry. The room grew still as whispers of surprise rippled through the crowd. Satine continued, her voice clear and strong, "I have chosen to wed Bo-Katan of House Kryze to Harrison Vizsla of House Vizla. Their union will be a symbol of our unity, a testament to the enduring bond between our houses."
The revelation sent shockwaves through the assembly. Bo-Katan's eyes met Harry's, a mix of surprise and confusion. They had never talked of marriage, of uniting houses, they were only 16. Yet, as she studied his stoic face, she realized the depth of his commitment to the Mandalorian people. He had seen a future where their bond could serve as a beacon of hope.
Without missing a beat, Bo-Katan stepped forward, her voice resonating through the hall. "I accept this union," she said, her tone strong and proud. "For the sake of Mandalore and its people."
The room erupted into a mix of murmurs and applause, the gravity of the announcement settling upon them all. Harry felt a swell of emotions—surprise, excitement, and a touch of fear. He had never imagined this path for himself, but the force of destiny seemed to be guiding him.
Six months later, the wedding was a grand affair, a spectacle that had not been seen on Mandalore in generations. The Great Hall of the Royal Palace was a kaleidoscope of colors, with banners from every Mandalorian house fluttering from the rafters. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the sound of drums beating out the ancient rhythms of warrior celebrations.
Harrison wore traditional Mandalorian armor, intricately designed to reflect his heritage. The dark hues of his armor gleamed in the sunlight, a symbol of his lineage and the warrior he was. Under Satines regime it was only celebrations like this the wearing of armour was permitted. Beside him, Bo-Katan radiated strength and beauty in a stunning gown adorned with Mandalorian symbols, the fabric shimmering like the stars above. Her hair cascaded down her back, and the fierce determination in her eyes mirrored the warrior spirit within her.
As they exchanged vows, Harrison’s heart swelled with emotion. “I vow to protect our people and stand by you in every battle,” he declared, his voice steady yet filled with conviction.
Bo-Katan’s eyes shone with fierce loyalty as she responded, “I promise to fight beside you, to honor our house and our people, and to love you fiercely.”
When they sealed their vows with a kiss, the crowd erupted into cheers. In that moment, they felt the weight of their responsibilities and the warmth of their bond merge into one, solidifying their union in the eyes of their people.
Later that night, under a canopy of stars, they retreated to their marriage quarters. The world around them faded as they shared whispered promises and tender kisses, each moment electric with the thrill of their love.
Their hearts raced with a mix of excitement and anticipation that had nothing to do with the thrill of the battlefield they were so accustomed to.
As they approached their marriage quarters, Harry swept Bo into his arms with the same ease with which he once hoisted his heavy jetpack. She giggled, the sound music to his ears, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her cheek pressed against his, the warmth of her skin a stark contrast to the coolness of his armor. They exchanged a knowing smile, the kind that could only be shared by those who had faced the abyss together and come out stronger for it. The door to their chamber loomed before them, a heavy slab of beskar that had been polished to a mirror finish. It was a symbol of the protection and privacy they were about to share, a sanctum from the chaos of the galaxy outside.
"You know, I could walk,husband" Bo said, her voice teasing.
"But where's the romance in that, wife?" Harry quipped back, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He kicked the door open, the heavy slab swinging wide to reveal the dimly lit chamber. The room was filled with the sweet scent of blooming nightshade orchids, a rare delicacy from Concordia, a surprise from Bo's sister. The walls were adorned with the finest beskar plates, each one etched with intricate patterns that whispered of the Mandalorian's storied past. The bed, large and inviting, was draped in soft fabrics that matched the color of Harry’s ceremonial armor, a deep, rich blue that spoke of valor and loyalty.
With gentle care, Bo began to unbuckle Harry's armor, starting with the heavy pauldrons that framed his broad shoulders. Each piece of beskar was a testament to their shared battles and the bonds that had been forged between them. Harry felt a strange vulnerability as the weight lifted away, revealing the tanned skin beneath. His heart thudded in his chest like the beat of a war drum as Bo's hands grew more confident, her touch lingering briefly on the scars that crisscrossed his body, a silent promise of her love and care.
In turn, Harry carefully unclipped the fastenings of Bo's wedding dress, made from a shimmering fabric that danced in the candlelight like a starlit sky. The dress had been crafted by the finest tailors on Mandalore, each stitch a declaration of their union. As the garment slipped away, it revealed the lithe, muscular form of a warrior who had been both fierce and graceful on the battlefield. Her eyes searched his, the depths of them as vast as the space they had crossed together.
They stepped closer, the air between them charged with a tension that was entirely new. Their breaths grew shallow as their bodies met, the warmth of their skin melding like two pieces of beskar in a forge. Harry felt the gentle pressure of Bo's fingertips tracing the contours of his scars, a silent language that spoke of her understanding and acceptance. He kissed her neck, her jaw, and finally found her lips in a kiss that was tender and fierce all at once.
Their bodies moved in a dance as old as Mandalore itself, a dance of protection and trust, of love and passion. The candles cast a warm glow across the room, their shadows playing across the beskar walls as they explored each other's contours with a gentle urgency. The clank of metal on the stone floor grew softer as piece by piece, their armor fell away, leaving only flesh and the whispers of fabric that clung to their skin.
The bed beckoned, a sea of blue beneath them as they tumbled onto it, the softness enveloping them like a warm embrace. Harry's calloused hands found the smoothness of Bo's thighs, her skin as soft as the finest leather beneath his touch. Bo's breath hitched as their kisses grew deeper, their bodies entwined in a silent promise of forever.
Their love was a silent symphony, a battle waged without weapons, and it was every bit as fierce and beautiful as the battles they had fought side by side. Each caress, each whispered word, was a declaration of their union, a bond that transcended the battles they had shared and the battles that lay ahead. They moved together, the rhythm of their hearts in sync, the heat of their passion burning away the shadows of the day and lighting a new path into the night. It was a moment of pure connection, a moment that was theirs alone, a testament to the unbreakable bond they had forged through fire and blood. And as they lay entangled in the aftermath, their breaths mingling in the stillness, they knew that this was only the beginning of their epic tale. Harrison felt the pulse of the Force between them, a silent current that bound them closer than ever. The bond they shared was not only forged in the fires of battle, but in moments like this—when they stood side by side, vulnerable yet unyielding. They had grown together, and now, in the quiet of their private quarters, they could embrace what they had become. Bo looked up at him, her eyes reflecting the same fierce love that had always burned within her. "Harrison," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath against his ear. "Whatever comes next... I am with you." Harrison nodded, his thumb gently brushing her cheek, savoring the warmth of the moment. "I know," he replied. "We are stronger together." As the two of them stood there, stripped of their armor and titles, there was only the connection between them—the promise they had made not just to each other, but to their people, to Mandalore. Their union, though born of political necessity, had transcended the bounds of mere strategy. It had become something far more profound, a partnership forged in the crucible of war, trust, and love. The night outside stretched on, the stars twinkling like distant beacons. Inside their chamber, however, there was no war, no politics, only two hearts beating in unison, ready to face whatever the galaxy would throw at them next. The morning would come with its own set of challenges, no doubt. But for now, they were content in the quiet, the soft murmurs of the universe outside their walls a distant hum as they embraced each other in the stillness. Bo’s hand rested on Harrison’s chest as they lay together, the weight of their shared journey settling over them like a comforting blanket. In that moment, they could let go of the responsibility, if only for a brief time, and simply be. For both of them, this was more than a marriage of alliance—it was a pledge of their commitment, not just to Mandalore, but to each other. And as they drifted into sleep, the flickering light from the stars outside their window casting a soft glow on their faces, they both knew that whatever battles lay ahead, they would face them as one.