"Oh my word..." Admiral Abel exhaled in disbelief as he read Meku's after-action report. "During omp-up opeations, t he Mandalorain forces surrendered. Apprehended an ddetained the final four survivors. Names as follows: . . . "

Meku hastily wrote it on the shuttle ride up to the Hearth, so it was full of grammatical errors. Other than this haste, Meku wrote exceedingly well; all Jedi were trained in literature and composition. They were also expected to write reports for the Republic Judiciary when they acted as peacekeepers. In yet another realization that fighting was only a tiny part of war; for every minute spent fighting or solving crimes, Meku had to spend at least ten or twenty minutes writing about it.

"She's lightning in a bottle, isn't she sir?" Foster chose her words, tone, and expression very carefully. She was extremely lucky that she hadn't been punished for how she talked to him earlier.

"The Mandalorians have never surrendered to us. Never. I... I don't even believe it."
Foster said nothing, but inside she was as smug as a Wookiee who had won a game of pazaak. Her expression remained neutral, but inside she thought "I fraggin' told you so, didn't I?"
"We'll divert the reinforcement fleet to the new coordinates," he continued.

Gerrenthum's planetary fleet was still coming, but so was something bigger. In his desperate bid for help over Bespin, Abel had sent for any fleet available. Fondor, a shipbuilding world in the Core, had reported that they'd just built a handful of brand-new ships, and they were incoming. They were much too far to save Bespin, but would probably arrive in time to destroy the Mandalorian survivors.

"We'll need 'em. The men aren't in much condition for another fight."

"No rest for the weary, Commander." He smiled, weakly.

"I'm just shocked they're still so deep in our space. I thought they woulda high-tailed it back home after..." she dared not say the word Bespin. The pain and guilt was evident in his eyes already. It was eating away at him. "After, y'know. Sir."

He just nodded, not even wanting to talk about it. All that played in his mind was watching his guns fire on a space station full of innocents.

"Well, uh..." Foster rubbed the back of her neck. "I'll get down to the hangar, make sure everything's in order with the prisoners. I'll check on Engineering for you too, make sure we have all systems in good working order." Abel nodded, she saluted, and curtly walked out.

The slightly-crumpled shuttle landed in the hangar bay, followed by its fighter escort. Despite being swamped with work, the Hearth's crew actually stopped their duties to see it land. They had to see it for themselves. The officer on deck ordinarily would have cracked down and made them get back to their duties. But this was a huge moment, and they deserved a celebration. After all, everyone on the ship firmly believed the Marines were being sent to their death. Yet, this phenomenal Jedi brought them back, and even got the Mandalorians to surrender.

When the shuttle doors hissed open, Meku led. She exited slowly, almost savoring the awe. Behind her, four prisoners in cuffs, escorted at gunpoint by distrusting soldiers. They had been stripped of their weapons and armor, which were being carried by the battle droids and a few other people. Upon seeing this impossible sight, the elated crew cheered.
"Holy Bantha! D'you see this?"
"Hero!"
"You got 'em, Master Jedi!"
"This can't be real. Pinch me, Simi, pinch me. This is a dream."
"Legend!"
"Hell yeah, Master Jedi!"

Several crewmen also taunted their new prisoners.
"Not so tough now, are you, insects?"
"Eat shit, roaches!"
"Enjoy your cells."
"How's it feel to lose, huh?"
"No mercy, no quarter. Give 'em a firing squad."
"Whose the weaklings now?"

Some of the soldiers and mercs smiled, raised fists, and whooped back. Other stayed silent. They looked sullen, like they'd been shaken to their core.

The officer on deck then cracked down and shouted, "Stop standing around, you mynocks! Ship's falling apart."

Meku told Oka to lead the prisoners to the Brig, and she'd catch up to him. She then approached the fighters' berths, making a beeline straight for Neff's. He decorated his fighter with sharp teeth in the front, and outlines of his kills stenciled on the side. Neff climbed out of his cockpit and plopped down in front of Meku. He wore a cocky grin, hiding his nervousness.

"Neff." Her firm voice had undertones of rage.

"You are officially skilled, Meku. What a killer. Taking down a Bas-" his compliment was interrupted by a Force-push. Unprepared, he fell back sideways, clocking his face on his fighter. Meku then got close up to him, aggressively pointing her finger in his face.

"Do you call that escort? We all almost died down there, and where were you? Huh? Where the hell were you?" She was inches from his face, baring her teeth like a beast. Despite being so short, it was clear she was the one towering over him.

"Look-"

"-I don't wanna hear it! This isn't a damn movie and you're not the Red Baron. When you're running close-air support, you do that damn job!" Her next line was quiet, menacing. "You better shape up."

Neff held his bleeding nose. He furrowed his eyebrows in aggression, and was about to strike her back, but he shrunk away from that idea. He was indignant, having been humiliated by mud-slogging infantry in front of his fellow pilots. But his fear of her overpowered that.

Meku radiated raw power. Neff had never felt this much power in a person before. He could also sense the sheer darkness in that frigate as he flew over. It was like sensing a hurricane's power. For once in his life, he actually felt bad for the bucketheads. He bit his tongue and softened his expression.

"Yes, I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't good enough. When you're assigned escort, you actually escort us. You don't run off on every wild bantha chase you see. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes!"

"Yes, what?" Meku didn't know if she outranked him or not, and she didn't care. She just wanted to put this hotheaded fool in his place.

"Yes, ma'am!" He snapped to attention.

Meku growled and stormed away, taking breaths to calm herself.

Oka was still in the hangar, talking to Foster. The rest of the soldiers, mercs, and droids stood awkwardly behind him. Meku approached and spoke to Foster.

"Commander."

"Jedi!" She proudly clutched Meku's shoulder. "I didn't believe you at first. But looks like you caught us a couple buckets, eh?"

Meku didn't know how to respond, and her exhaustion was setting in. She just nodded before catching herself and using the proper respect. "Yes, ma'am."

Foster inspected the prisoners. As expected from a warrior culture, they were in peak physical shape. There were only four of them, but it took double that many beings to hold all their equipment.
"Geez, one of you is equipped like a batallion."
Their faces were pained. Foster believed it was humiliation. She didn't know it was fear.
"Any complications you foresee about this? Security concerns?"

"No, ma'am. We were very thorough in our search."

"I can see that. You gotta be, with these buckets." Foster spat out the last word like an insult. "Well, you know how to book someone into the Brig by now. No need to hold your hand. Take as many guards as you need, and get some rest after. Dismissed!"

"On it." Foster patted Meku's shoulder again, like a proud parent.

Lappah wanted to have a look around the ship. The area was vaguely familiar, since he'd once co-piloted a transport dropping off a boarding party. As an aspiring Basilisk rider, he had a fascination for all sorts of starships, and could spend all day reading about them. He'd studied Hammerheads, and had a lot of respect for the workhorse that had been in service for 300 years with no sign of being retired. The swift Aurek fighter was interesting as well, especially its locking S-Foil technology. He wondered what they were like to fly. But he dared not look at any of them. He kept his head down in shame and fear.

His clan-brothers were nearby. They could've died in battle, as a Mandalorian should. Instead, they were captured. Stripped of their weapons and armor, completely naked. It was like shaving, declawing, and detoothing a Nexu.

Lappah had second thoughts, but it was too late. They were already at the Republic's mercy. Worst of all, they'd probably be questioned by the Ras'griz. No place was safe from her, not even his own mind. They had to come up with something.

"What in the san hill d'ya mean no discharge? I'm walkable, ain't I?"

"Yes, but sir, you must remain under supervision of medical staff." The medical droid's vocabulator had subsonic undertones to help soothe its patients. It did not understand why that wasn't working on the obtuse man. "We must observe for any complications from-"

"Hell no. I choose when I get discharged. No way in hell I'm taking orders from a fraggin' tin can."

Foster leaned on the door to medbay, having overheard the exchange.

"But sir, if a complication appears, it is imperative you be in medbay to receive prompt treatment."

"I am fine. There's people in there worse'n me. Worry about them. I needa check in on my men and get back to the fight."

"But sir-"

"One more 'but sir' and I space you outta the airlock. Wanna get thrown out of the ship's butt, sir?" He was joking, of course, but droids always had a tough time telling.

"Very well, Sergeant Devore. Please know you will be marked as having been discharged AMR: Against Medical Recommendation."

"Sure thing, tin can. Also, mark me as IDGAF: I Don't Give A-"

"Quit harassing the poor droid, Devore," Foster spoke up. She had a tough time not laughing, and made sure to keep a straight face before piping in.

His neck stiffened and he turned to her. "Maxine!" He grew a cocksure smile. He wore only a tight-fitting shirt and some shorts, complimenting his toned, well-defined muscles. He crossed his arms. The electrical patterns were burned into his right arm, almost like an extra layer of tattoos.

"Come to enjoy the view? I know I'm quite the specimen, so - Holy Rakghoul, what happened to your arm?" Jimny's face switched instantly from cockiness to concern when he saw Foster's arm in its sling.

"Shot. Fraggin' buckets can't aim worth a damn."

"Are you okay? D'ya need anything?"

"I'm fine now. I fought through it. Unlike you, I didn't need to lay around in bed like a lazy-ass for three days."

He retorted quickly, "I was sleep. Even in my sleep I can kill buckets better'n you, but I didn't wanna make you feel bad. Getting showed up by your subordinate. Y'know y'can't compete with this," he pointed at himself.

"Whatever, tough guy. Pretty sure I can handle a bite."

"Why not test that?" His cocksure smile came back. "I'm sure it's been a while."

"Yes it has, Devore." She used his last name intentionally, as if saying "those days are over, okay?"

"C'mon Maxine. We both know-"

"-Stand down, Devore." She sighed, conflicted. "And... are you okay?"

"Never better. Ain't nothing getting me down." He surveyed his arm. "This is just another souvenir. Cooler than a trinket from a gift shop, eh?" He was about to push his luck again when an unwelcome voice interrupted him.

"Sir, if you may sign this AMR release for our records?" Jimny grunted deeply.

"There, it's signed. Now leave us the hell alone, tin can."

"Be nice to the droid. He's doing his best."

"It's just a tin can. Got no feelings, no nothing. I don't needa be nice to any of those junk-piles."

The droid drooped its appendages for a split second before quickly recovering its poise and saying "have a nice day, sir," and leaving.

Foster growled and rolled her eyes. "Why are you like that to them? You are something else. And speaking of something else. That Jedi of yours... wow. What're you teaching her?"

Jimny tilted his head, unsure if this was a compliment or if Meku had gotten herself in trouble. "What'd she do this time?" His gut sank as his mind went to the worst thing. "Did... did we lose Bespin?"

Foster's eyes popped when she realized the man had been completely out for three days. She brought him up to speed on the events, punctuating her story with, "and now, she's booking the buckets in the Brig."

"She surrendered a Mandalorian?"

"No. Four Mandalorians."

Jimny's mouth was nearly on the floor. His face beamed with pride. She was coming into her own, not just as a soldier, but as a leader.

"It was all me. I was the one who taught her everything, y'know." Foster rolled her eyes, smiling to herself. "But for serious, she's got all that inside her."

"You are a good teacher, Sarge. The best... Don't underestimate yourself." Foster's eyes played memories of her early days in the Navy.

"Eh. I taught her regular soldiering stuff. Some people don't got it, no matter what you teach 'em. She's got the gift."

"I agree. I thought the Jedi were gonna try to hug it out with the Mandos, or something. You know Jedi types."

"Pff, yeah. Flowers and rainbows and shit."

"Exactly!" Foster was letting her guard down now. "I'm glad the Revanchists aren't like that. I'm glad they're willing to do what needs to be done." She thought of Bespin. The Republic would surely had lost the battle without that sacrifice. And maybe the war with it.

"Kill a thousand to save a million. Those decisions suck to make. But you gotta be strong enough to make 'em. Glad she is."

"Agreed. She needs some fine-tuning, but the foundation is there. I can see her going high places here. She'll become really something."

"That's what I'm tryna do. Give her the guidance she needs."

"Careful with that. Can't let her get too much like you."

Her face showed regret as soon as she said that. She turned and walked off. Jimny tried not to dwell on their past. He decided to make his way to the Brig, since it seemed like that's where the squad were. He needed to check in on them and some other guys he knew. He didn't get very far when a familiar voice cried out to him.

"JIMNY!" He turned to see Meku running full-speed at him. For some strange reason, his nightmare was the first thing on his mind when he saw her. She jumped and embraced him, nearly knocking him over. This evaporated the bad dream. She buried her head into the crook of his neck. He smiled, embracing her.

"Hey, hey," he tried to keep his cool demeanor, "relax kid, relax." She could tell he was acting like he was too tough for this. "C'mon now, let's keep it, uh, arm's length..."
She simply squeezed tighter.
"Alright, you kraken, get off." Jimny chuckled and jokingly waved her off.

"I'm so glad you're okay. I'm, I'm..."

"C'mon Meku, you should know me better than that. I've had worse shocks from shorting HoloProjectors. How'sa squad?"

"Great. Minor scrapes and bruises, but healthy. They're finishing the booking process over at the Brig. I rushed over here to check on you. I wanted," the smile ran away from her face. "I just, I'm sorry, sir."

"For what?"

She looked at him like the answer was obvious. "For..." she looked away, too ashamed to look at him when talking about it. Her elation was replaced with guilt.

"For what," he replied a little more firmly.

"I should've known. I should've been able to sense him, sir. I should've stopped him. I let him. I let him do this."

"Listen kid, he was the traitor. Not you."

"I should've been stronger!"

It was surprising to see such a clammed-in person like Meku have an outburst like that. Jimny liked her. Not just for her phenomenal ability in combat, not just for her creative mind. But because she always took responsibility. Even when it wasn't her fault that something went wrong, she put the burden on her shoulders. This wasn't always good; it led to burnout and other unhealthy coping mechanisms, Jimny knew that well.

But it also meant she would never shirk responsibility. If something needed to be done, she'd do it. She'd never ignore something that "wasn't her department," which some soldiers (and especially mercenaries) often did. Not to mention, she had a fire inside her that burned furiously hot. He didn't know about the rest of these monks, but Meku was a gift.

"I wasn't able to sniff'im out either."

"But you're not a Jedi." He cocked an eye back, and Meku backpedaled. "Uh, with all due respect, sir. Not trying to make myself, uh, not saying, uh. I'm not better than you, Sarge. I just, you don't have the Force senses I have."

"I know what you meant," he replied sternly.

"Sir, I-"

"-Stop."

"But-"

"-shababababababa." He wiggled his hands. "Stop."

"Sir-"

"Ssssshhhhhhhhhhhutup. Don't be annoying." He put his fingers over Meku's mouth. "If you're expecting me to tell you it's all gonna be okay, that you didn't do nothing wrong, or some other sunshine-and-rainbow nerfcrap, you're gonna be disappointed. I ain't gonna sugar-coat nothing to make you feel good. You made a mistake in not sensing him. Because of that mistake, we damn near lost Bespin. Lots of people died."

Meku just nodded somberly, the echo still in her heart.

"I didn't notice him either, and he was my squaddie for years. We all make mistakes. It's inevitable. What separates good soldiers from bad is learning from 'em. Not making the same mistake twice. Can you do that?"

Meku nodded again.

"So, how are you gonna take responsibility?" She looked at him, as if waiting for permission to speak. He had to stop himself from chortling at her awkwardness. "Yeah, you can talk now."

"I need to learn about whatever mind-blocking technique he knew. I'll do some reading on it."

"And?"

"Once I read about it, I can find ways to beat it. So it doesn't happen again."

"Good. And?"

"Maybe I can even track Luay down, and kill him. Make him pay."

"Ooooookay, you got the right spirit. Is there a better way to make him pay?"

She furrowed her eyebrows, having to think long and hard. It seemed hard for her to fathom a result other than just killing him. Jimny knew why. She was overcome with a sea of emotions. She wanted vengeance and, deep down, he did too. Jimny recognized how dangerous that could be, in a profession that required as much discipline as the military did.

"Well, maybe, maybe capturing him would be good. Make him spill the java and confess any other schemes he's got his hands in. He may know other spies or something."

"Now you're talking! You gonna stop there?"

"Stop there? What else could I do?"

"Lemme ask you a question, wise Master Jedi. How many systems are in the Republic?"

"Oh, well over a million!"

"And how many systems are in Mandalorian space?"

"Um, something like 30 thousand?"

"How big is the Republic Military?"

"Hundreds of thousands of ships strong, sir. Millions of volunteers."

"Oh, it's bigger'n that. And the Mandos?"

"Smaller than us, I know that."

"So, y'think he was the only spy in the whole Navy?"

Her eyes widened. "Force be with us..."

"Exactly. Who knows how many other Luays are out there."

"We should get on the comm right away! No, we should go straight to Revan, the whole military has to know!" She began to bolt off when Jimny calmly grabbed her fatigues. She was jerked back.

"Slow down. We gotta go through the proper channels. Let's talk to Captain Abel, maybe he can set up a comm with the Supreme Commander."

"Right!" Her excited face flushed red with embarrassment. "Also, he's the Admiral now, sir."

"He's what?"

Meku gave him a confused look before realizing. "Uh, Remus was killed over Bespin, sir."

Jimny sighed and she felt bitterness and disappointment from him. Before she could ask, he said "Alright, let's go talk to the Admiral."

"Let me make sure I have this straight. There was a Mandalorian spy in your squad. He committed several acts of espionage, using his datapad for all sorts of related purposes. He hid his data and messages in the game files. And..." he paused, taking in the weight of this revelation, "he was able to block his mind from your senses by obsessively thinking about this video game."

"Yes, Supreme Commander." Meku's face and voice were composed, but inside she was all fireworks. She always was when she saw Revan. Only Jimny was with her; Revan didn't even allow Abel to sit in on this top-secret meeting. "My written reports have the full details."

"I've reviewed them. Well-written. Thank you. Anything further to offer, Sakaroto?" The fireworks became even more explodey now. Meku had to stop herself from bouncing in excitement.

"Thank you, sir. Nothing else to offer. The files I reviewed were not very helpful." Admiral Abel used his high clearance to let Meku read some confidential military files on the subject. Mind-Blocking was a technique developed in ancient days, when the Jedi weren't a trusted, core part of the Republic. It took years of practice for a non-Force Sensitive to learn. No detail beyond that. Not how to do it, how to counter it, nothing.

"I've seen many a holocron filled with ancient secrets. Once the Jedi and Republic allied, they did everything they could to wipe that idea from the galaxy's consciousness. It would be dangerous to the Jedi, should it become common knowledge."

"But the Mandalorians know how to do it, Supreme Commander," Jimny spoke. He was much more composed and professional than normal. "I believe it's prudent to spread the word. If they know how to do this, then it is safe to assume they have more spies like him, in other places."

"Leave that to me," Revan retorted. "We've been thrust into an extremely delicate situation. Spreading this information too liberally could be just as dangerous as not telling anyone. It must be disclosed to only the most important, trusted people."

"Yes, Supreme Commander." Jimny's thoughts betrayed him, "the hell's wrong with everyone knowing that? I sure wouldn't mind havin' that trick up my sleeve, just in case."

"Other than Abel, have you told anyone else of your revelation?" Before they could answer, Meku's head started to feel strange. It felt as if a million tiny snakes were slithering in her head, touching every single crevasse of her mind. Searching her memories, making sure the truth was within her. It was well-known (to her, at least) that Jedi had the power to feel people's thoughts. But she'd never felt such a powerful probe as Revan's, and he was halfway across the galaxy. Jimny's face twitched, he could feel Revan inside his head as well.

"Not about Mind-Blocking, sir, no," Meku said, trying to keep a straight face.

"The whole ship knows he's a rat, though," Jimny added.

Revan gave a slight nod in satisfaction. "Then you must swear complete secrecy until given further orders by me and me only. Do you understand?"

"Yessir," Jimny replied automatically. Despite disagreeing, Revan was his superior. He was given an order and that was that.

"I know you don't like it, Sargeant Devore. That you sure wouldn't mind having that trick up your sleeve, just in case." Despite his decades of putting on a Pazaak-Face for his superiors, he couldn't hide his shocked expression. "It is imperative that the spread of this information be strictly controlled. Otherwise it could doom our war effort. You already know you can't hide anything from me." The snakes returned to their heads, almost like a warning. "Understood?"

"Yes, Supreme Commander," Meku replied. "We won't tell anyone."

Jimny, panicking inside, tried to say something to save face. "Sir, hey, listen. I um, sir, I'm, I'm, um, I'm a man of duty, and um, uh, well, y'see..." he was not doing well.

"Relax, Sargeant. I know your heroics. Both of you. I know you are good soldiers and will do anything to protect our Republic. This is critical to the Republic's safety. Do not fail me. Understood?"

"Yessir."

"And relax! Also, keep your head out of the gutter." Jimny's eyes widened to saucers before Revan chuckled. "Just joking, Devore. We'll speak later. Please bring in Admiral Abel."

"Understood, Supreme Commander."

"Do not fail me. Revan out."
The comm shut off. Alek was in the same room, but out of range of the HoloProjector.

"How in the galaxy did the Mandalorians learn that? I thought the Ancients wiped out any knowledge of Mind-Blocking over twenty thousand years ago."

Revan waited to speak, just removing his mask and putting it down on a dresser. Revan turned and gave a mischievous smile, "way back when Vrook was only middle-aged."

Alek laughed deeply, from his belly. "Before he had that stick shoved up his loading ramp, hm?"

"Stick? More like a wroshyr tree growing in there." Revan looked at the mask while he disrobed, mind drifting away. He always planned and looked for new angles. He did it without even thinking.

"So Revan, do you have an actual plan, or more smart-alec remarks?"

"You know I have an infinite supply of those, Squint." Revan called his best friend by his childhood nickname. On the other hand, the Supreme Commander was so encompassed by his cause, even Alek called him by his new name. "You can never defeat me in a battle of wits."

"You're blessed with such sharp wit only because you're cursed with such horrific ugliness. You wouldn't need that humor if you had a peak physique like mine." Alek flexed, showing off his monstrous muscles. He was proud of his best friend, and somewhat jealous, even. Revan had a smaller, more toned body. He didn't care much for physical strength; his power was in his mind and Force abilities. Alek was easily the better swordsman and stronger combatant, one-on-one.

The problem? Alek would flex all day if you let him. Revan decided not to rise to the bait.

"Why else do you think I wear the mask, you fool?" They both shared a laugh at this. Many in the Republic thought Revan was a serious, stoic commander. He knew Alek since they were younglings, and they were comfortable and jocose, even in a warzone.

"Sounds like you still don't have a plan, my brother."

"That's where you're wrong. I have four already." Revan pulled up a datapad and started typing. "We need a list of people we trust. Jedi and non-Jedi alike. That is step one. Off the top of my head, I can think of, hmm. General Surik. Captain Elaina. Any others?"

"How about this for an idea? We crush the Mandalorians into dust and melt the crusts of all their planets. Vaporize every databank they have. Scrap every droid. That'll stop the secret from getting out."
Revan gave his best friend a look that said "Really? Reeeaaaaally?"
"What? That would be the surest way."

"You have such a lack of subtlety."

"Who needs subtlety? We overpower and crush the enemy."

"That's why I'm the Supreme Commander," he paused to let it sink in, "and you're not."

Alek held his hands up in mock surrender. "You've always been smarter than me. Perhaps I have more to learn. But I'm not giving up my strength. That's all I'm saying."

"That's what worries me. You lean too much on it, brother. Anyways, let's get back to the plan at hand." Revan's tone changed and got what Alek dubbed the 'serious voice.' "We need names."

A/N: Sorry for the wait guys. Work has really picked up and I have to arrange a family move to a new state. Updates will come but will probably be slower for the time being. Maybe once every two weeks. Still, I'm working at this story! Thank you everyone who follows, reviews, and reads. You inspire me to keep going!