Terakian Compound: Concordia, Bonding

Finally every weapon and ship was tested and tuned, their armor ready. The shuttles were prepped ready to launch, everything that needed doing was done. The tired clansmen gathered in the mess hall, where Takad stood, waiting. The younger ones went about, handing out thimbles of tihaar, or fluted glasses of hard Verdyc, taking glasses of soft for themselves before giving their clan-father their attention.

"Usually, we would have the circle at this time, where those of us that have felt the fury of battle tell you who have not what we saw and did. But tonight there will be no circle." He scanned their faces. "Tonight we will merely toast the death of our clan, and those who follow on will read from our Soochir the glory of that end." He took a thimble of tihaar, holding it up. "Clan Terakian, Death or Glory!"

"Death or Glory!" They roared back. Riyal shot the tihaar in his own glass back. In that moment, when they had shouted, he had suddenly seen what it must have been like before his Line had interfered. The sixty had become thousands, and their warcry had shattered the night before they left to face their foe. He took another thimble of the potent liquor, shooting it back as well as the clansmen trickled from the room.

He stood, walking over to where Takad had taken a glass of Verdyc instead. "What of the chip?"

Takad looked at him coolly. "When we are all dead, it will be worthless."

"Useless perhaps, but not worthless. My own world owes your people so much, and have taken far too much from you. I would ask that you give it to me. To me it is worth more than my entire planet."

"Takad sighed. "And if we do not all die? Shall I place the lives of those few in your hands, man of Megrim's line?"

Riyal nodded in thought. "I swear, not on the honor of a faithless line, but upon my own honor. Even if all of you survive, it will never be used to call you again. Upon my life I swear it."

Takad considered, then took out his pad and ejected the chip. "In remembrance of the honor you have shown, and the effort you have made to assist us and learn." He dropped it into Riyal's palm. The young man slipped it back into the recess in the ring.

The halls and rooms were quiet. There was some laughter, but it was the laughter of people sharing that last embrace before death, the murmur of voices sharing their last thoughts. He entered his room, finding the kits sprawled on his bed rather than in their basket. They were gathered around something on it, and he walked over. There was something that looked like a vest made of the skin of a druhund. He leaned closer, and had to chuckle. On the vest along one side were what looked like the nipples of baby bottles. He saw Shema's sarcastic hand in that. He felt on the back, and could tell that bladders in the lining were filled with milk already. The kits were trying to reach them with that same hungry whine he was growing to know well.

"You are all gluttons." He growled, picking it up and putting it on. Then he lay down, rolling on his side as the kits began to paw at him. He directed them into place where they began to give suck. At least the vest kept their needle claws from ripping him apart. He considered everything he had seen this day. So full of life even with the shadow of death upon them, he wished he had learned more of the Mandalorians- no the Mando'a before he had come.

The soft grumble of the kits reached into his heart, and he relaxed, falling asleep.

He awoke, seeing Taarna kneeling beside the bed. She was gathering the last sleeping kit to place in the basket. Instead of what she had been wearing before, she was dressed in a loose shift that fell to her knees, soft and supple. She turned, and saw his eyes watching her.

"I have never been with a man, Riyal." She told him. "If I must die when we arrive on your world, I will feel that touch, even if it is only for the one time. I have heard that you were given concubines, so I felt that perhaps you would know enough to give me what I seek."

He chuckled. "Given them yes. But after the first, they were concubines only in name." She looked at him curiously. "The first, Sinyin, was a sweet, gentle girl who touched my heart. But after a year my father had her set aside, because he felt her too brainless to trust with the succession. He tried to give me other more 'suitable' lovers, but you can claim all you want when the one you claim to serve ignores you by day, and bars his door by night to keep you out. So I only hope that what Sinyin and I learned in that time is enough."

"Then she was well skilled?"

He chuckled. "Actually, we were both virgin our first time."

She gasped, hand covering her mouth. "So you could hurt each other in your clumsy passion, how horrible!"

"No. As much as father called her brainless, Sinyin was wise in some things. She asked me to forgo that embrace until we learned more. It was good that we did. We humans of Naboo have no beasts to ride, and the only examples we had to go by were the Kaadu of the Gungan race that inhabits the swamps of our world. But after watching some of the Gungans breeding them, I told her that as much as they might be fun in practice after we had learned other pleasures, I was not going to muzzle and hobble her."

She giggled, slapping his chest. "You're joking!"

"No! They hobble the female kaadu after muzzling her because they will bite if frightened. Then the male sidles up and-"

She slapped him again. "Stop. I don't know that a kaadu looks like, but just thinking about it makes me want to flee!"

"Make you want to flee? It put us off the idea of sex for almost a month!" He laughed. "No, Sinyin got some books and we studied them well before going beyond merely kissing and touching."

"Books!" She stared at him in amazement. "You learn about sex from books on Naboo?"

"Well if you're of a noble house it is not like you can have a practical demonstration while you eat your dinner, or by watching your kin having at it as the really poor peasants do. It is good that we did wait even after using the books. The drawings would make us blush for hours, while the text was dry and explanatory only if you were training to be a doctor. We spent more time using a dictionary to find out the meanings of the words than anything else. So we kissed, and cuddled, and as time went on we tried the touches and caresses, keeping those we found gave the other pleasure. Finally we consummated our relationship, and when we found that it was fun, we kept at it all hours we could."

He sighed. "Then she was put aside. I am sure that the others probably knew a lot more than she or I ever did about the mechanics of it. But none had her gentle heart, and I had found in that year that liking the woman you take to bed is more important than what goes where and why. I could not see any of them as someone I would take as a wife, and casual sex was of no interest."

"Oh." She looked away. "So what I offer is not something you would wish? My apology." She started to stand, but stopped when he caught her hand.

"That is not what I meant. You were the first one who treated me like a person when I arrived this morning. You taught me of the druhund, used what I had done right to assure your clan-father that I was not like those of my line. You shared your joy in the Terak, and your sorrow that you may never see one again. Gave me support when Shema would try to make me look like a fool. Oh, as to Shema, have you seen this?" He leaned up so she could see the vest fully. She giggled.

"And you have shown me so much of your own heart." She told him. "Caring for the helpless, helping us prepare for our last battle, loving as I did the Terak in flight. Taking Shema's stings and not fighting him. I felt that if there was one not of my clan that could embrace me, that it could be you." She looked up, the look so hopeful that he leaned forward, kissing her. She slipped from the sheath, then helped him out of the vest with a lot of gentle caresses and giggling on both their parts. Then flesh to flesh they lay together, his hands showing her what was good, and at his direction, her own hands touching him as well.

Soon enough she gasped at his hands and lips, then surged against him as they joined. Then they looked into each other's eyes as he gave her what she had asked for, and she gave of herself without reserve.

For a long time they merely lay together, enjoying the touch of beloved flesh, sweat drying as hands gently caressed.

"Now if you want to try hobbles next-" He cut off as she tickled him until he begged for mercy.

Terakian compound: Revelation.

Riyal came awake, hearing the cries of hungry kits. Taarna was gone, leaving only the memory of that evening and her scent. He gathered them into the basket, then dressed, carrying them to the mess hall.

All of the clansmen except for the younger children were in their armor. They sat at their meal, talking quietly though there was little rhyme or reason to who sat with whom. He found a seat, then went to get his food. There was barve ham, and he carefully shredded it into narrow slivers for the kits. Then he took extra bowls, a pitcher of blue milk, and his own meal, staggering with the tray to where his kits waited. Tyra Suli and Moro came to his table, and with a lot of giggling they were able to feed the kits. Taarna came in, and walked past, ignoring him as she filled her tray.

Someone came up behind him. It was Sammel. "The clan-father and I would wish a word before we depart. The children can watch the cubs for you." He nodded. Taarna sat at another table alone, but while she watched him walk away, she did not approach him.

As they walked, Sammel spoke to him. My words are this; Taarna is my daughter." He looked at the young man for a long moment. "What happened between the two of you remains there; She is of age and can take whomever she wishes to her bed. I would thank you for making that point in her life a fond memory. I have no more to say."

"Then why does she sit away from me now?" Riyal asked.

Sammel stopped, turning to face him. "My daughter separates herself for her own good, and yours."

"I don't understand."

Sammel looked at him, then motioned for them to continue walking. "Speak with the clan-father first. Then I will try to explain."

Keeri and Takad sat together, and Takad waved for him to sit. "We will try not to interrupt your meal for too long, Prince. Keeri examined what we learned of the ship that attacked you yesterday. We have found something, disturbing."

Riyal sat. Keeri brought up a hologram from a scanner. There it was, the split aft wing, canards along the sleek nose, as it rotated in view the main thruster with the six auxiliaries in two lines. "That's it, all right."

"A Coruscanti design about ten years old." Keeri commented. "But we find no registry of such a ship among the Casawayans." He touched some buttons. "This far out, most of the 'navies' of the planets use ships much older." These ships were sweeping arrowheads. "They have five of these old Legion class corvettes built in the Kuati yards a century and a half ago." He flipped it back to the attacker. "There are only three ships of this design in the area. They belong to the 'Royal Guard' of your father."

Riyal stared at the form rotating gently before him. "So someone has bribed a guardsman to assassinate me?"

Keeri looked at him blandly. "That is a possibility."

Riyal knew the other, that for some reason his father had marked him for death. "I will think on this." He stood, bowing, then returned to his table. The mother that had berated the girls was there, her own hand idly playing with a kit. She looked up, then stood. "I am Tinge. I thought the children were not doing what they must yesterday, and for the scene we caused I apologize."

She shook Riyal's hand, looking at the girls sadly. "I also thank you for your kindness to them. You have made these days happy for them."

"Why do they not have armor?"

She looked at him with a smile. "Unlike regular clothing, armor must be fitted. Children grow like Cahval stalks after six, and it would be very expensive to make a set of armor they would outgrow in less than a year. We do not form it for a child until before their first battle where they go to find if they have a warrior heart. But for them that would usually be in five years and we did not have the time to make it for them. They have skin suits as you see, and rebreathers. If we fight on the ground, they will stay behind us, and fire into the enemy from cover."

"And in space?"

Tinge looked at the giggling girls. "They man the side guns of our ship. What they have learned to do. They are warriors in here." She slapped her breastplate. "They will not fail us."

He ate his meal, watching them all. Old and young, none looked worried by what they faced. What manner of people were they? Sailing into danger as if it were but another day's labors. He hurried, and when he had finished, he stood, walking to Sammel's table. "You said you would explain."

"Sit." Sammel poured tea, and handed a mug to Riyal. "Few see the heart of the Mando'a. They see our armor, our arms. They see us as faceless warriors. But you in this last time have seen our heart. Our play, our laughter, which few who do not know us would even believe. My daughter's warrior heart is strong, and if she were in any other clan she would go on to glory.

"But she is not. She is Terakian, and she knows that like all of us, our days will be shorter than others. She feels for you, and among those with the strongest warrior heart is also the pain of knowing this. That you will watch her die, not see her live. A warrior heart takes all it holds dear inside, where the enemy may never see it. When you know it is your time to die, you do not cling to life, to that you hold dear. Instead you take those feelings and fold them gently into your soul, and leave your home with the calm face of a warrior, knowing that in time the Force will gather those you have left behind to be with you again.

"She wants you to remember that time you had together, not that she will die. It is the greatest gift a warrior can give those they love. Look at Tinge." He turned. The woman had bent her head beside the children, laughing with her girls as they played with the kits. "Do you see her mourning? Do you see her upset that even these children will die when we arrive? She wishes them to remember the kits you brought, and the time they spent together playing with them. She will go into death with their smiles in her eyes and heart, and be content"

"But I do not wish her to leave like a mindless robot." He bit his lip at the look Sammel gave him.

"Do you think that to her it was just flesh last night? Was that all it was to you?"

"No! I will remember her for the rest of my life, and mourn that she is not by my side if she dies on Naboo. But you tell me I must let her walk into death as if it were nothing?"

"Oh, I didn't say that." Sammel drained his mug. "Some cling to others before the battle, and feel the better for it. She gives you that choice."

Riyal stared at him. "You give me two different ways to show my love, and they are opposites!"

Sammel stood, his helmet under his arm. "I didn't say it would make sense. Just that it is." He motioned. "Come, you will be aboard my ship for the voyage."

Now as if choreographed, all but a few of the clansmen stood to take the dirty dishes, and began washing them.

"You're washing the dishes before you go?" He asked confused.

"When we are gone, others of our people will occupy these buildings, till our lands as their own. We may go to die, but we leave the world better for those who will be alive when we do." Riyal picked up his dishes, carrying them over and began to wash and stack them. The children were giving the kits teary hugs, then setting them down.

"Tinge." The woman looked up. "May the girls and Moro ride in Sammel's ship with me? I need to name the kits, except for Solty here." He picked up the kit that had first bonded, scratching her behind the ears. His younger sister, dead for many years had been named Solty.

"You mean, we get to give them names?" Suli asked in amazed joy. Then she looked to her mother.

Tinge threw up her hands. "All right. You little Barves can ride in comfort while the rest of us work." She looked past them winking at Riyal, then walked out. Riyal passed the kits out, setting the one he named Solty in the crook of his arm as he followed. Even this was in orderly silence.

They passed through the armory where another elder, Conri handed the weapons out. Each took it, tested the action and slung them except for the few like Shema who carried their heavy assault blasters at port arms.

They entered the hanger, and Riyal followed Sammel and, surprisingly, Tarrna to their attack shuttle. The children followed with the kits, and settled into the crew compartment as the ramp lifted. Taarna racked her weapon beside the ramp, and stopped when Riyal stood before her.

"You will always be in my heart, and I will wait until I join the force if need to be with you again."

Her eyes softened, then she leaped into his arms. They hugged wordlessly for a long moment, then she pulled away. "I must pilot us, Riyal."

"Yes."

She smiled softly. "That means you must let me go."

"Oh, right." She touched his face delicately, then was gone. He strapped in as the engines began to rumble.

The shuttle lifted, then slid smoothly to the entry hatch. All of them were in position as they lifted off, lifting into the skies of Concordia for the last time.

Once the shuttle was in the air and arching upward, Sammel came back through the troop bay. He touched a stud on the bulkhead, and a section of the deck lifted, revealing a blister and control seat that led downward beneath the shuttle. Curious, Riyal walked aft.

Sammel noticed him, and motioned toward the seat that now was exposed in the gap. "The tail gunner's position. Every one of our ships carries at least one of the elderly, ours will be no exception unless we go into the fight direct. That one usually mans the tail gun." He sat in the couch, strapping in. His hand flickered over the controls, and a HUD appeared in midair. "The main gunner and pilot needs traycin; fire in thought and deed to maneuver and fight the ship. The side gunners," he motioned to similar couches both port and starboard, "need to be watchful to guard their ship. But the tail gunner is the one who is the most methodical. None but his guns protect the stern in the attack, and if he fails, the crew dies. If my daughter flies this beast, her father will protect her back."

In orbit of Naboo:

Two days later, there was a series of flashes as the assault shuttles came out of hyper. They were in the tight formation of professionals as they approached the planet.

Riyal came up to the cockpit where Sammel and Taarna were busy.

"No one in orbit." Sammel commented. "They couldn't have defeated the Naboo in such a short time. We are here first."

The com panel sounded, and Taarna tapped the button. "Clan Terakian, shuttle 7 to Naboo control. We come in answer to the pact."

"Hold." There was silence, then another voice. "This is Miraz, King of Naboo. Let me speak to my son." Taarna looked up, then motioned toward the panel. Riyal leaned over it.

"I am here, father."

"We see only assault shuttles. Where are the warriors you went to gather?"

"They are in these shuttles."

"Ah, so they expect to fight on the ground. Land at Capital Field, and we can have them deploy."

"Yes." He considered. "Father, a ship attacked Slipstream in orbit of the Concord Moon. I must tell you it was destroyed."

"We can replace the ship. As long as you are safe."

"Yes father, we will be down shortly. Terakian 7 clear." He stood back. "At least my father did not plan my death. But that means someone in his guard did."

"When will you tell him?"

"If he acts as the others of my line have done, he will slaughter the only defense remaining if you fail." Riyal replied. "Until we know whether you can stop the Casawayans, his ignorance is our bliss."

"Oya Manda!" Semmel said, chuckling.

The shuttles came in, still in tight formation, then settled around the edge of the runway used by local aircraft. Thousand stood around it, cheering frantically as the shuttles powered down. The ramps dropped, and the clan dismounted. When the crowd saw how few had come, the cheering slowly died. A ground car with royal livery came through the crowd, and Miraz climbed out. He came forward, smiling, the smile faltering when he saw so few warriors. He walked over to Takad, recognizable by his armor, shaking his hand. "Welcome brave warriors of Clan Terak! We thank you for your swift response. We have quarters readied for your troops. I must speak to my son."

"He is over there." Takad motioned. Miraz's smile soured further when he saw the man walking along followed by children carrying some kind of animals.

He walked over hugging his son as he hissed. "What means this?"

"I will tell you when we are alone." He pulled away, removing his pack. Gently he put the kits in the pack, and they settled in to sleep, having been fed before they achieved orbit of Naboo. Riyal walked to the car, his father waving to the crowd as vans came out to pick up the clansmen. They climbed into the car, and it pulled out.

"Sixty? I send you to gather a clan to defend us, and you bring sixty!" He slapped his son. "Fool! What did they do, send only half? We will need them all!"

"They are all that remains, father. That is all that still live of Clan Terakian."

"Madness! Why did you not call other clans to fill it out! We know they will bring their fleet of five corvettes with a thousand soldiers! What can sixty men and women do?"

"They are Mando'a. They will fight and die as the Pact requires. As for others, Grandfather assured that no other clan would assist us when he slaughtered half of clan Terak himself. I do not know what their plan will be for this, but they will prevail, or die. "

"Die more like." Miraz snarled. "As for what my father had done their own actions supporting Sogan bought them that punishment."

"And that punishment has bought us this outcome." Riyal replied.

Miraz snorted. "I wish I had sent you to inspect before we called them forth. Now we are in it."

Riyal reached into the pack, the kits nibbling on his hand. "Your ultimatums would have been better a few years down the line."

"Yes." Miraz did not deny what Riyal was saying. "We must hope that they succeed."

"They will succeed in their purpose, father."

Miraz glared at the kits. "What are those animals? Why have you brought them here?"

"Young Druhunds, father. You always tell me that I must learn responsibility; they are the first responsibility I took upon myself."

"Well get rid of them. I will not have them soiling the residence."

"They are mine to deal with, father. You cast them out only if you cast me out as well." He moved his hand, the kits playfully dragging it back down. "Besides, my actions with these 'animals' has convinced the Terak to fight that much harder."

"Fine, play like a child as our world burns. It is what you were always best at." The car stopped at the residence, and they climbed out. Servants came down, but Riyal stopped them from taking the kits as he returned to his apartments. He asked for meat and milk for the kits, then sat at his computer. He brought up what they knew of the Casawayan fleet. He could see the difference between the ship that had attacked him in orbit, and the ones that came now to kill his people. One swift and agile,

He extrapolated their approach; though he knew little of military matters, he did know commerce, and Casaway was their closest trading partner. The space between there and Naboo was cluttered with navigational hazards, so most ships coming from Casaway would come out of hyper just outside the asteroid belt rather than closer.

There was a knock, then a servant entered. "My lord, one of the Mandalorians wishes to speak with you." Riyal merely nodded, motioning for the person to enter. If they brought all five of their warships, they could sweep in and assault the planet in hours. Now where along the arc would they come?

He felt someone behind him, and a gauntleted hand came by his head to touch the screen. "Clan-father thinks they will come in here."

He stood, turning, snatching Taarna up into a hug. She returned it, then pushed back, removing her helmet. "So it is revealed." She said teasing. "I see you merely like hugging my armor, so anyone in our armor would be hugged!"

"If you believe that, you can remove it and I will do more than hug you."

She slapped his shoulder. "No time for that." She snapped to attention. "I come from the clan-father to bring you to him so he can report our intentions."

"Then why do you call upon me? Once you are called, I am merely the one to send you home."

"Not true. According to the pact when Rothgar sent his brother Vrumigan, we report to the one who called us forth, as your father has been informed by clan-father. When we have, you report to him." She stepped back, and aside. "If you will come with me?"

"Of course. More time with you." She bowed, hiding her smile, then stood, the warrior remained. She strode to the door, opening it. A servant bearing a tray with stewed meat and milk stood there reaching for the handle. "Ah. Come in." He led the woman to the table, and began shredding the meat.

When he was done he went to get the kits from his bed, and set them gently on the table. They mewled with hunger as they always did, but gathered around his hand when he put it down over their heads. Even small their mouths were wide enough to snap on half of a man's fingers. "Come here." The woman walked over, looking nervously at the kits. "Let them drink what milk they wish, but when they stop drinking, feed them the meat until they do not want more." She merely stared at them until he grabbed her hand.

"My lord, please!" The girl tugged frantically to get free.

"Oh stop. Mando'a children of six have fed them without losing even a fingertip." He pulled her hand down until the kits began to sniff her fingers. Then one of them humped up on its haunches to sit quiet. He chuckled, reaching down with his other hand to rub the kit's ears. "Ah Solty, you know when food is present. They know from the past days that you are feeding them. They will be satisfied with that." The woman looked on with wonder, then guilt.

"My lord, wait. Let me get more." Something about her desperation to leave reached through.

Riyal looked at her. "Truth would be best now."

"Your father. He... he mixed something into the milk, and sprinkled it upon the meat as well."

Riyal's face showed nothing. "And what was to happen?"

"He hoped they would die while you were out of your rooms, and that he could say something about our food did not agree with them." She looked at the kits. "I do not see monsters. I see helpless adorable little animals, and while I obey him in all things, I do not feel right that they should be poisoned. Please." She bowed her head. "Forgive me."

"For doing what my father told you to do?"

"You do not hate the slave of your enemy." Taarna said. "Proximity does not make you an enemy as well."

Riyal nodded. "Agreed, warrior. Would you call the children? They can go to the kitchen at my command, and none can gainsay them in getting food for themselves and the kits. If a child of the clan were injured or killed by poison, it would violate the Pact if I am not mistaken."

"That is true. Hold, please." She lifted her com link speaking rapidly, then her head cocked as she heard the reply in her earpiece. "They come. If this one will guide them to the kitchen?"

Riyal nodded turning to the servant. "I will stay until you return. Unlike my father, I will not hold it against you if something happens, but I charge you to tell any that try to add even spice to their food this; if a Mando'a child dies of it, the Pact is void. And while I hold you blameless, I personally will not be so forgiving of those that thwart me in this if a kit dies but the children are merely made sick."

"Yes, my lord. Thank you." The woman shivered in terror as she scurried out. He wondered, had the servants always been this afraid of him before?

A moment later a guard called, and Riyal ordered him to let the children pass through to the kitchens. A short time later, the children came in with the servant following. Taarna spoke to them swiftly in their own tongue, and Riyal watched three children put on the same face he had seen on so many of the adults. Tyra began shredding the meat as each of the other children poured glasses of the milk and drank them down.

"We will eat some of the meat and wait before feeding your kits." Suli told him. "Verag, Shosha, Calliam and Solty will be safe. We will die before they eat if necessary."

Riyal knelt, clutching the child. "Oya Manda!"

She giggled. Then she said, "You are speaking it through your nose."

He chuckled, rubbing her head. "I will learn to speak it better." He stood. "Warrior, I come as called."

Conference: Naboo.

Riyal recognized the scene, though not the location. The warriors had been stuffed into an old warehouse as if they were animals being housed for transport. Of course the insult rolled off their backs.

"I come as called." Riyal said.

"Good Prince-"

"Please, clan-father. Until I am worthy of that title, I refuse to accept it."

"As you will, Riyal." Takad brought up the system in a holographic display placed on a crate. "As Taarna has told you, we anticipate they will come in here." Five red dots appeared. "If they know we are here, or think we have arrived first, they will come in probably in this formation." Two of the ships moved forward in echelon left, the other three formed in echelon right behind the leaders. "It gives them the best coverage defensively against small combatants. We will deploy to break the formation and destroy as many as we can.

"We intended to take off immediately, and face them in orbit where their numbers are only five to fifteen rather than a thousand to our sixty." He grimaced. "But we have run into problems. Your minister in charge of supply is demanding that we pay for not only fuel, but for our food as well with additional charges to have it delivered."

Riyal stared at him. "You come to fight and die for us. You do so by a contract four and a half centuries old where we can call you and don't have to pay for your services, and this fool expects you to pay for the privilege?"

"We did point out the problem. But it seems he has the authority to demand payment." Takad sighed. "If we must buy our fuel in dribbles, we cannot maintain the defense we would wish. If we are tied to orbit due to lack of fuel, or we cannot stock our ships with supplies for two weeks or more we might as well be sitting on the ground. One of your ancestors added a codicil about three centuries ago that we had to clear any other contract through your line before we can accept it, and most of the time, your rulers have merely said no, so we have had little coming in before your grandfather's time. None for the last eighty years

"His reply is that we can sign a voucher that will allow him to seize the equipment we have brought, and if it is not sufficient, claim our lands on the Concord Moon in violation of Mando'a law."

He had been surprised by the equipment the Mando'a had considered necessary. When they lifted off, the shuttles were ready for an assault where they would have to blast through a blockading fleet, then suppress ground fire before they landed, and provide aerial support after their troops were down. So the wings held concussion missiles to destroy vehicles and bunkers, with cluster bombs for infantry.

Inside the shuttles they carried everything needed for when they had a space head established; dual purpose heavy blasters to shoot down enemy aircraft or vehicles, Anti-shipping missiles and blasters, crew operated plasma and blaster cannon, mines, and millions of rounds for all of them. In fact every shuttle had been so loaded.

Riyal considered his father buying all the ordinance the Mando'a had brought, then how much the middle man could make if the Minister simply put it a voucher for his department for the weapons already on the ground and pocketed the money. He looked to Takad, snarling. "I think I will speak to this man. I want a man who speaks Basic, but can pretend he does not to stand behind me."

"Any of our people can do that."

"Then here is where I earn the title of Prince." He motioned Takad out of range of the camera. A figure in armor walked up behind him as he keyed in the code.

"Ministry of Supply. Minister Torim's office." A bright cheery woman answered.

"This is Prince Riyal. I want to speak to the minister this very minute."

"I am sorry my Lord. He is in a mee-" The secretary stopped as Riyal raised his hand.

"Do you recognize me?"

"Yes my lord."

"Then you will tell the minister this; that if he is not in communication with me here among the Terakians in the next three minutes, I will have him arrested for treason to the state and shot. In fact I will personally lead some of them there and execute him in the lobby of the building as an object lesson." He ended the call. He looked at the figure in armor. "Care to time it?"

The helmet turned, and he heard Shema's voice. "I started timing it when you cut the circuit." The com-board chimed, and Shema replied. "Two minute, eleven seconds."

Riyal put on a quiet face, like his father did when he made such a decision, touching the acceptance key. The man looking back at him was bland and colorless. "My lord, you don't know what you are threatening-"

"Spare me your excuses. I have no doubt you have been lining your pockets since you took office, but in this case you are bordering on treason."

"Your father-"

"I know that all ministers serve at his majesty's pleasure. But you are trying to extort money from the ones that will keep you in that office by spending their lives. You would limit their capabilities for money, and put our people in danger in the process. From where I sit, that is treason, and that is punishable by death for you and your entire family."

He leaned forward. "If I am forced to come down there and deal with you, my father's opinion will not remove the bullets from your head. You will order the supplies and fuel they requested loaded, and they will inventory and verify it when it gets here. As soon as I find one that speaks Basic, this one will lead the ones checking it in. Better yet, this one will go to the government store house and collect it." He motioned toward Shema. "And you will think of this as they are en route;

"I am sure you will think to call my father, and have him tell me to stand down, or have them accept your greedy demands. But if you do, you had best hope the Clan fails and the Casawayans find a use for you. Because eventually, my father will die, and I will ascend the throne, and I am not pleased with you in the slightest.

"When that occurs your titles will be taken, your lands and bank accounts seized, and your family will disappear. Not be executed; disappear as if they had never even existed. Except for you.

"You will be tried publicly for perculation and be shot. And if I have my way every man on the firing squad will have orders to shoot you in the belly! Decide!"

He had thought the man colorless, but now he truly was. He was pale and his eyes were wide with terror. "I will order it immediately."

"Good." Riyal stood, looking around. "Takad! A moment please!" He motioned. Takad, with a wide grin on his face waited until Riyal added a gentle nod. Then he put on a harsh look, and stepped into view. Riyal gave his instructions again, and Takad repeated them in Mando'a. Shema simply replied, 'Chu' and marched away. Riyal looked at the man. "Never fail my family again in even the smallest thing, Torim. This was the only chance you will get from me. Riyal clear." He hit the end key savagely.

"Clan father, please, continue."

Takad gave him a wide grin. "As you say, Prince. As I was saying, in orbit we can face them with fifteen shuttles against five corvettes."

Riyal nodded. The enemy ships were large enough that one of them out-massed all of the assault shuttles. "I understand. What do you think of your chances, clan-father?"

Takad looked at the display. "Any three of them could slaughter us in an hour, perhaps a bit more. Though victory in war is never assured by heavier ships on their side, or skill on ours. We have to depend on luck and our tracyn, our fire." He gave a feral grin. "And they must deal with our reputation. That will be a shock if they do not know we were already here."

"What shall I tell my father?"

"Tell him that none of the enemy will land as long as we live. That is all he needs to know."

"Chu!" Riyal replied.

Takad smiled. "We must unload the shuttles, and assemble the fuel tanks. Once that is done we can launch and fight."

"It will be done. I will help."

The younger Mando'a leaped on the load lifters. The systems howled into operation, and five lifters moved toward the first shuttle. They began moving the cargo pallets, setting them to the sides of the warehouse, arranged by contents.

Riyal followed them to another lifter sitting idle. He climbed aboard, checking the switches. Then as he flipped them it came to purring life. He trundled into line behind another. Since he had helped load them, it was easy to keep up with where they would be set and organized. As each shuttle was emptied, other lifters brought over the dismantled fuel tanks, and other members of the clan began assembling them in the open bays at the stern. Four tanks were assembled then bolted together in a square pattern bolted to the frame so soon each would have eight tanks with fuel enough to stay on patrol for a month at need.

One set of four meter long crates were opened, and as each lifter slid up to the end of a wing, clansmen attached the wide missiles to the one of the launch rails beneath each wing. Then launchers with ten proton torpedoes each were set on the outer rail, then finally the rail on the end of the wing received another missile. He was told they were decoys that would appear to be assault shuttles even to their own sensors.

Shema's drivers returned, along with half a dozen fuel browsers which began filling the tanks on and in the shuttles. As the last shuttle was unloaded, Riyal went to help the others unloading the vans of food, first stacking them by what the crates contained, then splitting it up so each ship would receive what it needed. Once that was done the crates were moved into the shuttles.

Except for at the first where he was instructed not to put it here ('It will block access to that turret') or here ('How am I to get to the cockpit with it there, you d'kut!') they worked until each shuttle looked to be stuffed, though there were strategic walkways for the crew, and each load was strapped down.

If anything, their treatment of him improved even more. There was good natured joking and he was part of it this time. "Not legumes!" Conri moaned as they stacked food. "They give me the wind!"

"Everything gives you the wind, Conri!" Volkan joked.

"And you assign him to my ship." Another elder, Hasred, grumbled. "It smells bad enough without him."

"But think of the musical arrangements you can have with Conri and Drisk aboard." Shema said.

"Please, I was trying not to."

"Well at least we won't have Riyal aboard. Just what we would need, music and a water display." Another elder, Canad laughed.

"Well I would try to hold my water, Canad." Riyal replied, grunting as the crate of ship's biscuits he had was hoisted atop the crate of canned barve. "Though I might join the music if given half a chance, and three plates of legumes first."

"Conri only needs one."

"Ah, but he is so much older and has more experience making it musical."

"There is that."

As the last of the equipment was stacked, several of the elder Mando'a began stringing anti-personnel mines and booby traps to stop anyone from merely driving up a van and loading it.

Finally everything was loaded, and the Mando'a gathered at the crate where Takad had shown this plan.

Takad nodded to each of the pilots, then walked over to one of the crates they had taken off his shuttle, opening it. Inside was a crystal matrix large enough to fit in both hands. He walked over to Riyal with it. "This is the great Soochir of our clan, what the Jedi would call a holocron, for they learned of the crystal's worth from us long ago. Everything the Clan has ever done has been recorded on it.

"When we depart on the hour, all of our Soochir will be linked to it, so what we do here will be remembered. I ask you; guard it with your life, assure that when we are gone, it is returned to Manda'lor, so the clans will know of our bravery."

Riyal reached out, accepting the weight. "I am honored by your trust."

"Set it down for a moment, lad." Riyal set it down, and Takad took his hand, his left hand on Riyal's shoulder. "Know you that your own line is redeemed by your actions. We will fight as we did all those years past for such a noble purpose, and to earn your favor."

"You have my favor and my prayers, clan-father. Death or glory."

"Death or glory indeed." Takad turned. "Oya Manda!"

"Death or glory!" They shouted. They began to gather their weapons, surging toward the shuttles. Riyal turned to pick up the Clan Soochir again, but a hand caught his arm. Sammel motioned with his chin toward Taarna.

Riyal nodded, turning to walk over to her. Before the girl could ask, he swept her into a hug. They held each other, wishing the time would not end. Then finally Taarna pushed him back. "In this world and the next, I will always love you, Riyal." She sobbed.

"Wait for me when my time comes." Riyal replied, feeling his eyes fill with tears.

"In the Force there is no time. It will be as if I fell asleep, and awoke when you came." They kissed as if the world could end and they did not care. Then they separated. When they walked from the warehouse, no one would have known they even knew each other.

He stood, alone as the shuttles lifted off. They moved upward, engines taking over from repulsorlifts, arching skyward. One moved, wings waggling, and he lifted his hand as if she could see him until they disappeared out of sight.