5k words, a milestone for this story. Flashback begins here and will not stop until I say so. Thanks to reviewers and readers alike for your support, I need your feedback to make this better! Hopefully this story will not die out on me.

Disclaimer: Yet again... Georgey boy owns Star Wars and realated products, I now own Captain Elyse Shapiro, Republic cruiser Republic's Pride, well, that's it for now.


Chapter 2 – Si vis pacem, para bellum. (1)

Taryn hit the deck, then was swallowed by a whirling vortex of sound and colour, only to have her vision snap into focus onto a place all too familiar. She had no control over it, watching through her own eyes the scene embedded in her past.

It was a peak of the Republic's retaliatory campaign against the Mandalorians. They had reconnoitred and discovered a forward attack base, the main staging area for the Mandalorian fleet in the Stenness Node, a direct route to the Kuat Sector. (2)

It was Dxun. The sole moon of Onderon provided a superb base of operations, with ample natural defences, namely the jungle and the beasts.

That day, the last of a siege that had lasted three weeks, Taryn was losing hope that the situation might be resolved quickly, morale was down and the troops, mostly young conscripts, were scared shitless.

Revan called down from her command ship, Republic's Pride, 'How's it looking, Taryn?'

'Not good, from what we've seen they have at least a thousand elite warriors holed up in there and we've lost two squads to the predators. The troops are scared, Revan.'

'That's why I'm counting on you to lead them, Taryn. They will follow you. No cost is too great, we must win this battle.'

Taryn pulled herself to her full height of five feet and nine inches and saluted her commander, 'Yes ma'am.'

'Good luck, my friend.'

'And to you as well.'

Taryn walked over to the squad captain to get the latest recon Intel. She'd known this woman for a long time, Elyse Shapiro of Corellia, a tactical wizard who was quick to point out flawed battle plans and quicker to throw in support for good ones. A good comrade, and one who treated her like a person, not as a god.

'So?'

'Same as yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. Scouts report impenetrable dense jungle, further complemented by towering cliffs, except here,' she pointed up the trail.

'That's the only way in? What about earth-movement?'

'Sonographs indicate the cliffs are at least seven hundred metres thick, and our heavy equipment is impeded by the undergrowth.'

'Explosives?'

The stocky woman sighed, 'When are we going to stop kidding ourselves, Taryn? This is the only way in. We are going to lose people and we might as well resign ourselves to that fact.'

'That's not a fact unless I say it's a fact. Do you get that, Captain?'

Military training took over; she snapped to attention, despite the insects, the heat and the fact that standing up straight made one a nice outline for snipers.

Taryn stiffened. She sensed something – malevolence, nearby, preparing to –

'Move!' Fluidly she shoved Elyse to the ground and ignited her lightsaber, placing herself between the blaster bolt and its intended target, deflecting it back at the source.

A strangled cry was its only response. A squad of troopers moved in around them, alerted by the shot and the spang of the deflection.

She motioned them forwards, where she sensed that blind, black hatred. Again, a blaster shot flew past them, aimed a little too high. She raised a closed fist, halt; moved, saw a flash of blue armour, sniper rifle trained on her, slashed, life snuffed out. Open palm downwards, secure the area. Back to the attack plan.

Thus began the longest and bloodiest day of fighting in the entire war.


Taryn walked over to where the troops were crouching behind a wall of dirt. Time to give them some motivation.

One of the young men turned to look at her, 'Excuse me ma'am, but wouldn't it be more prudent to take out their defences from the air? I mean, come on, we could overrun them with an air assault, why're we even here? Why are we fighting?'

Taryn was about to order a court martial for him questioning orders but decided better of it. 'I'm sorry, but Revan is occupied with the Mandalorian reinforcements, there is heavy combat up there as well...'

She turned to the soldiers. 'Listen, Private, you want to know why we're here?' her voice was loud enough for the others to hear as well.

'We're here because we're protecting all those things that we love; we're here because it's our duty and our honour to protect the Republic in its time of need; we're here because if the Mandalorians take over the galaxy, they WILL take your families, and your homes, and your lives. We're here because this is where the Force has led us, and this is where we are meant to be. Now are you going to let them take all that away from you? Are you going to roll over and die? Are you going to be remembered as dishonourable cowards, as the Mandalorians seem to think? No! I say we fight, even if we're scared shitless, even if we're tired, even if we're the only ones left, I say we fight! Are you with me?'

'YEAH!' the cry went up, so that even the Mandalorians behind their embankments and barricades could hear.

'Then charge! For the glory of the Republic!'

Strangely, she felt no shame or disgust at herself for spouting all that bantha crap, it was as if she believed what she was telling them, that she wasn't sending them to their deaths, maybe it was because she was going to die with them.

The Mandalorians opened up with heavy repeaters; many of the Republic troops were cut down before they could get close to the entrenched Mandalorians.

The Mandalorians also made their stand, rushing out of their high-walled encampment to meet the Republic's finest head on. She cut one down here, deflected a bolt at another there, there were always more. She whirled to slash the legs off one of them, his armour melting like hot cheese.

Caught up in the flow of adrenaline, she failed to notice one of them drawing a bead on her, there was a whine, but she didn't hear it, didn't feel it. Turning in time to see Elyse take a hit in the chest and fall, Taryn caught her, caught her falling sidearm, fired three shots that effectively dispatched the Mandalorian, tried to give first aid. The tissue damage was horrific. Flesh scorched and peeled back to expose shattered bone. One lung trying vainly to reinflate its intact half. Heart still pumping blood out of torn arteries. Even as she analyzed the wound, she knew.

'It's bad isn't it? I know.'

'Dammit, why? I could've blocked it!'

'Nah, you couldn't, simply too late, couldn't let you die, now, could I?' Talking in breathless gasps, never a good sign. 'Good luck, Taryn.'

'Damn you! Medic!'

By the time the med officer reached them, it was too late.

Taryn willed herself to suck the almost tears back into her eyeballs. She could not afford to look weak in front of her troops, not at this critical point in the campaign; otherwise, she would never be able to regain that trust and confidence in her authority. Once more, she became that most daunting of figures, a Jedi.

But inwardly, all the tears were eating away at her, slowly dissolving her essence. For every soldier who fell, she shed a thousand tears, tears that would never see the light of day, suppressed and contained within that facade of calm detachedness. And so the darkness grew, the self-doubt and self-loathing grew, the dark side within her, grew.

Everything happened very fast after that, she remembered jumping over the dirt barricade and running after the troops, lightsaber ignited;

she remembered the mines that went off when the first squad hit them, the smell of burnt flesh mixed with cordite;

she remembered the blood that had sprayed onto her when the trooper next to her was hit by a micro flechette round, warm and sticky;

she remembered cutting down the next Mandalorian she saw, and then another, and again, until no Mandalorians still stood who were living. She said to herself, 'They wouldn't have surrendered anyway.'

Finally, face and clothes blackened by smoke and dust, skin covered in burns and cuts from shrapnel, muscles aching from the heat of battle and feeling the lethargy brought on after an adrenaline high, she stepped aboard the return shuttle to Revan's flagship, which had apparently won its own battle.

When the shuttle docked, Revan was there to meet her; they embraced, regardless of the state of her clothes.

'How did it go?'

'As well as could be expected.' she gulped, 'We lost about half our troops in that final charge up the mountain...' she gulped, heavily, 'Revan, I can't do this anymore.'

'What do you mean?!'

'I can't, I just can't keep sending these men, barely men, to their deaths, I've seen too much death and killing for a hundred lifetimes. I can feel my soul being eaten away. Please, Revan, I don't want to fight, to lead anyone anymore.'

'Taryn, don't you see, this, all this is about ending the fighting, ending the conflict, after this, we'll never have to fight again, there will be peace... Please, you must lead the troops, you are the only one they will follow, because you are a leader, you have always been.' She pleaded, 'I'm just... just the strategist, I can't get people to follow me.'

'Well, you got me to follow you. And whatsisname, the tall guy.' She observed, lucidly.

'Malak.'

'Yeah, him.'

Taryn sighed heavily, 'All right Revan, but after the war is over, I'm destroying my lightsaber. I will never fight again.' She turned and walked, or rather slouched out of the hangar, with a world-weary aura about her.

In her quarters, she thought about what Revan had said. About making war for peace. And then she decided it was bantha crap. The war had changed Revan even more than it had changed her, every time she looked into her friend's eyes, she saw an odd glint, something that hadn't been there before. Looking at her self in the mirror, she saw something similar in her own eyes, except it wasn't a glint, it was an abyss, a darkness that threatened to pull her into it. Turning away, she began to cry. Tears mixed with the blood that stained her tunic. Blood and tears, how poetic, said the detached part of her.

Taryn stepped into the Pride's cavernous main hangar, as a general, it was her duty to pay last respects to all the men and women who had died that day. The troops had gathered in orderly lines; though the tension was still palpable, she could feel their alertness, their readiness should the Mandos launch a retaliatory attack.

She noticed Revan standing off to one side, trying to be unobtrusive, she never could pull it off, what with her height and all; or, for that matter, that goon who had taken to following her around. Never did see what he has to offer.

She walked over to the podium and began, 'Today, we fought. We fought not just for our own survival, no matter how much it may seem that we're alone, we fought for the survival and for the freedom that we have become accustomed to, complacent with. Today we fought for the 'glory' of the Republic...' she trailed off. It was time for her to say her piece, to say what she really felt.

'Today, we lost a lot of good people, including many who I knew personally. Most of you have lost friends, family.' Her voice cracked, clearing it, she continued.

'Too many, in a war that should not have happened in the first place. These Mandos, they want glory, and battle is their way of achieving it. We may not ever understand them, but we don't have to, they are killing us, thus we must kill them. To them, anyone who does not defend himself is a coward, anyone who defends another is a fool. If we hide behind civilians, they will die with us; if we do not fight, we will die.

'But when the fighting is over, if we win, those of us who still live will have to bear the burden of being erstwhile victors, so-called heroes, lauded by all. But we will know the truth, we are not heroes. We killed civilians when they thought we wouldn't, we killed even those who surrendered to us. In war, the only thing that matters is your survival.' She walked out of the hangar, as one who is already dead. Silence reigned.

Revan watched the scene unfold through Taryn's eyes, heard her thoughts, and wondered, could it really have been she who gave the orders that day, that no cost was too great, that sent thousands of men to their deaths?

Could it have been she who chose to hide behind the strength of her battle strategies and generals like Taryn instead of being down there with her?

Was it really she who had said that they had to have war for peace?

Furthermore, was it she who had set her truest companion on the dark path to self-destruction?

There was really only one answer: Yes.

But the question was, was it still who she was?

(1) Si vis pacem, para bellum - Latin - If you want peace, prepare for war.
(2) Refer to Galactic map available in several Star Wars books and online.