W/N: Since I'm sitting here with Pops and DC in the office, thanks for the reviews guys. I could read the paper, but I'd rather type. Anyhoo, I'm out for a week or more, so stay safe everyone.

I'm hoping to create an atmosphere of dread here as everyone waits for Revan's strike. I don't want to show her yet to build a sense of tension and mystery over her. I'm sort of using a 'Roman' idea with intrigue, intelligence, and assassination. This is where Atton comes in as I wanted to explore how he got to KOTOR II.

AUDENTES FORTUNA JUVAT - Fortune Favors the Bold

Malachor System – Malachor V – Serphants – Day 1 – Hour of the Dragon (1330 Local Time)

Canderous stood on the balcony of the Ordo stronghold, looking out upon rows of Basilisk Droids and starfighters, arranged neatly in preparation for Revan's final offensive. His square jaw was set firmly against the coming storm, the scar on his cheek red and jagged like the rocky Malachor peaks against the setting sun.

Another large Mandalorian entered the area, drawing Canderous' attention from the war machines gathered on the tarmac.

"What is it, Ergeron?" asked Canderous without moving.

The Mandalorian, a boyhood friend of the Ordo leader, approached. He looked down at the hundreds of droids and starfighters, ready for battle, but frowned. "Canderous, we must curtail the training mission today. Two ion fuel convoys were ambushed by Revan and our fuel supplies are critical."

A barely perceptible twitch ran along Canderous' jaw, the only sign of the growing doubt festering in his mind. "It is nothing to worry about, my friend. So, how are the warriors? Do they long for the song of battle as I do?"

"They do indeed, old friend. I fear, however, that they lack the experience and confidence that once made the Mandalorians the masters of the Galaxy only a year ago…and Revan continues to develop new machines and tactics that surpass our own."

Canderous avoided eye contact. "She is a demon, that one. Ergeron, I would not say this to anyone but you as you are the closest thing that I have to a brother. The days of the Mandalorians are numbered. The two biggest Kath Hounds in the Galaxy fought and we lost. Revan will destroy us…our people, our culture, our pride. All we can hope to do is take her with us so posterity will sing of our glory."

Ergeron slapped a strong hand on his friend's shoulder. "I am honored to be your brother and I shall avenge your true brother, slain by Revan and General T'Sing."

Ordo did not move, but shook as his face shaded red with the last rays of the setting star. "Cantaris died a good death…a warrior's death. Ergeron, I do not hate Revan…it is not the Way of Mandalore. Revan did what any of us would do, slay the enemy, crush his will to fight, deprive him of his resources to do battle."

He then turned and grasped Ergeron's hand and made steely eye contact with his comrade. "We must all die one day. Let us fight hard and chose the hour of our passing."

Then, as dictated by tradition, they drew their daggers and held them, point down to their hearts.

"For Mandalore."

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

In the stronghold of the Serphants Clan, Vako paced nervously in front of the broad window that looked out on the training field, where warriors gathered in a dueling circle to test their skills.

Clouds of worry furrowed his brows in the growing darkness. Even across the city, once the brightly lit home of conquerors, all was dark, a testament to the growing threat of Revan's might.

For the most part, the Mandalorian did not refer to the enemy as The Republic. At the outset of the war, the Republic was a weak and disorganized creature, led by incompetent political sycophants who were interested only in their personal gain and pleasure.

Revan changed all of that.

Within half a year of her ascending to the Admiralty, the Mandalorians were retreating on all fronts.

Vako spoke aloud as he watched the Serphants warriors train, "She understood us…knew our mind and our strategy. Although I chafe at the thought that the Mandalorians will be defeated by the Republic, there is no dishonor in being destroyed by Revan."

A female voice interrupted his defeatist monolog. "My Lord, the Lady Callesto," announced Mira submissively as she bowed and withdrew.

Callesto walked brusquely past the slave, Mira, and approached her husband. "What is happening, my husband?" she asked with deep concern written on her face. "Is it true that we are beaten? That Revan is coming?"

Vako brought his hand up dismissively. "You worry too much, woman. Revan will fall. Don't believe everything you hear. We have a new ally in the war and it will turn the tide. The Sith Ambassador has assured the Mandalore that they will intervene," he said with false bravado, shooting Mira an evil glare. "Go, tend to your gardens and leave the war to the warriors."

Callesto turned away with rare anger, her teeth gritted. The tense lines on her face told the story of her emotion and she seized Mira by the arm to drag her from the room.

The bodyguard of the Serphants Chief watched them go. His hand was gripped tightly on the handle of his vibrodagger, turning his knuckles white. "It is better that she not know the truth. The Way of Mandalore has become a lie anyway…it has brought us nothing but destruction."

Down the long hall, Callesto stormed into her chamber, leaving Mira at the door. In a fit of rage, she too drew her vibrodagger and slashed the sleeves of her robes, shrieking with every cut.

A voice interrupted her. "Enough. Save your anger for the Republic." It was Seja.

The dagger clattered to the ground and she ran to his arms. "It is true…the Mandalorians will fall."

Seja nodded, his dark hair covering one eye. "I have a way out. I won't let you perish here." His reassuring smile was so warm…so inviting.

The woman inhaled his scent. Their hands met.

As the two became one, Mira stood, listening…gaining an advantage. How useful this information would be to the right person.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

In the heat of the Mandalorian sun, Atton Rand took a long drink of Juma Juice to quench his thirst. Heat radiated off of the broad street in the Serphants city, distorting the air. Atton wiped the perspiration from his face with the sleeve of his ribbed jacket and looked at his chronometer.

He ran a quick hand through his brown hair and strode off to cantina on the corner. A somber mood permeated the place in contrast to the days of conquest when Mandalorian warriors, mercenaries, and merchants hailed the power of the Mandalore. Now, sullen faces and drunkards sat in dark places, awaiting destruction.

The despair of the Mandalorians brought a smile to Atton's lips. He sat down at an empty table and made brief eye contact with the bartender, who brought a drink to him. Atton downed the glass in one gulp and then slapped a wad of credits on the table. Carefully, he folded up the napkin from the drink and slid it in his pocket.

The bartender came by and picked up the credits, letting a small data pad hidden in the pile drop into an apron pouch. The two then went their separate ways, never to meet again.

When the bartender had left, Atton stood and headed to the fresher. In a stall, he removed the napkin and sprayed a chemical on the paper. The image of Vako Serphants appeared. Atton nodded – he knew what had to be done.

The Republic assassin tore up the paper and flushed it away.

On the way out of the cantina, he spied a game of Pazaak.

"This is someone's unlucky day," he voiced as he took out his prized deck. "Pure Pazaak."