Ok, you asked for it. We continue with the doom of Malachor V. Brazilian, in the other story, that character is just a one shot deal for that chapter. If you want the full KOTOR tale, try 'Hopes of the Republic' and subsequent books for everything from the Endar Spire to the Star Forge.
We'll look more at Atton and Mirahere. If you recall, Atton falls in love, but it's very tragic.
I am also continuing to withold any scenes with Revan to foster a sense of dread about her.
AUDENTES FORTUNA JUVAT - Fortune Favors the Bold
Malachor System – Malachor V – Serphants – Day 2 – Hour of the Kath Hound (0500 Local Time)
In the darkness of the predawn hours, Atton Rand, agent of the Republic and veteran combat pilot, leaned casually against the wall of another cantina, another dive on the doomed world of the Mandalorians. His practiced insouciance stood in contrast to the turmoil in his gut – the fear of failure and death was real within his heart.
The Mandalorians killed spies slowly and painfully.
However, the tall, lean operative's training held sway over his actions and he brushed his straight, brown hair back, knocking his hood aside. Nothing appeared to be wrong in the world for this man.
Atton's dark eyes focused in on a lone figure strolling through the morning mist under the dim lamps of the city streets. He raised an eyebrow – a woman…slightly shorter…thin and angular of form.
She ambled over the Atton, whose eyes revealed a cautious suspicion and his cheek twitched in a barely perceptible quiver. Under his worn brown cloak, his hand grasped the firm black handle of a blaster pistol and he undid the retaining strap and safety, unseen to any eyes.
"Good morning, master," spoke the woman in a drunken, lilting voice, full of alcohol and other Mandalorian spirits. "Would a gentleman care for early morning entertainment?"
Atton chuckled and his muscles relaxed just a hair – she was nothing more than a street woman, plying her trade in this dying city, scraping what little life she could before Revan came and obliterated her.
He sighed and blinked, somewhat embarrassed by his heightened sense of caution.
I've been in this intelligence business too long.
As his eyes reopened, the emitter of a lightsaber was pressed into his throat.
Serphants Compound
The red-haired slave, Mira paced the halls of the compound, her feet padding on the flagstone floors of the corridor beneath the glowing overhead lights. Her scant clothing hung over her well endowed frame, swishing with every turn. Strapped to her thigh was a silver pistol in a black holster along with extra power magazines.
Although she was a slave to the Mandalorians, she had been taught to fight and fight she would when Revan came – to the death if need be.
However, at this moment, Mira fretted over the knowledge she possessed – that a trusted friend of the family, Seja, cuckolded Vako, bodyguard to the Lord of Serphants.
Mira's life had been hard and oppressive. Captured and enslaved as a youth by the Mandalorians, she was indoctrinated into the harsh and warlike culture of her masters, who were intolerant of defiance.
Mira learned to hide her emotions and her anger.
She placed a slender hand along her chin and furrowed her brows. Then, with a nod of her head, she stopped her pacing and walked purposefully down the hall – toward the quarters of Vako Serphants.
A secret needed to be told.
Dark Alleyways
Atton gasped as the emitter was pressed hard into the flesh of his neck. He looked into cold, steely blue eyes framed with golden hair beneath a hooded cloak. The woman's thumb was pressed upon the activator of the lightsaber.
"I hope this isn't what you meant by entertainment," he quipped in his devil-may-care manner. "Are the Jedi here for my Pazaak winnings?"
The woman pulled him in closely so, to the rest of the world, she were servicing a client. "The fog shrouds the true nature of Malachor, don't you think?"
Atton's face twitched. A smirk…then a raised eyebrow. He recognized the secret parole that she had given – the woman was sent by Revan to help him assassinate Vako.
"The fog shall soon be lifted. Of that, I am sure," he responded calmly and the woman withdrew the weapon from his neck.
"I had to be certain," she said, looking around. "The Mandalorians have mercenaries for counterintelligence work. Although they are too proud to do it themselves, their lackeys are very proficient. What is your plan for this…assignment?"
"Meet me at the cantina near the compound at Nineteen Hundred. I have a friend who will allow us access."
The sudden sound of a sentry droid made Atton's blood run cold. Instinctively, the woman buried her face in his neck while pressing her pelvis against his. He inhaled deeply as the droid floated by, unconcerned.
When the machine had gone, Atton's boyish charm returned. "Now that we've…you know…you could at least tell me your name."
"Kayla. I am a servant of our master's. She is relying on you," the woman said with one last push of her hips. "Do not be late this evening."
With that, Kayla pushed away from him and briefly displayed the bag of credits that she had pilfered from his pocket.
As she walked away, Atton rolled his eyes. "Hey, it took some serious skill to win that," he protested weakly. Then, he shook his head and smirked. "Pure Pazaak, baby…pure Pazaak."