Thanks again everyone and welcome Kira. I'm getting the knack of writing the Mandalorians and used the Spartans as a model. Every warrior culture that I can think of is forged in tradition, which can be bad. Let's look at Mira for a bit and then back to the battle. I want to delve deeper into the private thoughts of the characters and how they approach what is happening. I wanted to pull in a few more of the minor characters that intersect with Malachor V, such as Bendak Starkiller. Look for the pilot dude on Nar Shadaa, Odis, in a future chapter. We also get a look at Atton's Echani stance.

Rook takes Rook

Malachor V – Stronghold of the Serphants Clan – Just after Midnight

Chaos engulfed the hold as word of the death of Vako Serphants, at the hands of a Jedi assassin, spread. The dramatic escape of two of Revan's operatives had stirred the hornets' nest and Mandalorian guards scrambled about, drawing weapons and armor for the hunt.

In the courtyard, the red-haired serving girl, Mira looked down at the torn bodies of Vako and Callista and there was no emotion in her.

One master is as good as another and the best master is a dead one.

Sweeping her bobbed hair back, she knelt and her green eyes glanced over the fallen Mandalorians, looking for booty. She pocketed credits and jewelry from Callista and then moved to Vako. She smirked as she looked down at her fallen master, the source of her oppression for years.

Mira's eyes blinked, almost unable to believe that a chapter of her life was ending.

This is all I have known since I could remember…The heavy hand of the Serphants Clan and endless servitude to these conquerors. This is not all my life was meant to be…a nameless house maid to wipe the nose of the lady and grovel to the lord. I…must make my break. I can be something more than this.

She removed a strange arm band from Vako's wrist and looked it over.

"What's this?" she murmured, turning the item over in her hands. "It looks like a rocket launcher," she added and strapped the band to her own wrist. With a twitch of her hand, a poisoned dart streaked away into the sky.

"Damn!" Mira exclaimed and looked sheepishly around. "I think it's time to leave and be my own master."

With that, she scrambled off into the darkness toward the space port.

Malachor V – Space Port

Canderous Ordo stood and surveyed the neat rows of Basilisk Droids and starfighters lining the tarmac of the space port, while troop transports loaded warriors nearby. He looked back at Kelborn, known to be one of the best warriors in the service of Mandalore.

"Revan expects me to attack headlong and I have for many battles. We shall give her a surprise today," he told the tall Kelborn, his breath coming out in steam.

The giant of a Mandalorian raised an eyebrow. "Canderous, I had wondered why you held back the capital ships. I was receiving impatient messages from Bendak Starkiller."

Ordo grunted with a fierce smile. "Bendak…a good warrior. He's the finest wielder of a vibrosword I have ever seen. It shall be an honor to die with him by my side."

Bralor smiled grimly. "We have survived many battles thus far and, though the tide has turned against us, I cherish the memories of the song of battle," he said as a red-haired woman snuck onto a troop transport behind him.

In a smooth movement, Canderous drew his vibrodagger and slid it across the back of his hand. He flicked his wrist, letting the droplets of crimson spatter across the cool duracrete. "Come, time is wasting. We are Mandalorians - Let us remember this day, which will be forged in blood."

With that, he marched solemnly to his Basilisk droid and mounted the beastlike craft. Straddling it, his thick armor adhered to its surface, holding him in place. He looked down at an instrument panel and powered up the systems, watching them come to life at his touch.

He flipped on the repulsorlift control and the beast leapt off of the ground, hovering in place with a deep hum. A surge of power and pride filled the Mandalorian's heart – win or lose, live or die, he would find honor in this fight.

Canderous manipulated the controls, moving the beast forward and the rest of the squadron moved in behind him. With a signal, he began his climb into the dark sky, slicing through clouds on his way to battle.

With other Basilisks and starfighters in tow, Ordo punched through the thick atmosphere of Malachor V, bursting out into space. He looked back to see the formations of craft that were gathered.

So few now. I remember how we would fill the stars with our fleets.

He snorted at his own feelings about the past, pushing them to the recesses of his mind and brought his ion engines to full power. In minutes, he would engage Saul Karath and Malak.

Though he often lacks subtlety, Malak has been the rock upon which Revan has broken us. Those two should have been born Mandalorian. It would be fitting. However, today I have something different for you.

Canderous' droid accelerated toward the outer planet, his formation close behind. Soon, other Mandalorian droids and starfighters whizzed by in the opposite direction, fleeing the onslaught of Malak's fleet – it was the Fetts.

Anger rose in Ordo's gullet and he fired his turbolasers into one retreating Fett. "Weak! Shameful!" he cried over the commlink and tore through the shattered remnants of a Basilisk droid.

More Fetts blurred past him and suddenly, he was back in empty space. Far ahead, he could now see bright flashes of turbolaser fire.

Malak lay ahead.

Outside the Serphants Fortress

Atton Rand dragged Seja around a corner as a rocket flew by, slamming into a building ahead of them. It detonated, throwing debris into the night sky with fire lighting the area. "You got the target, but a fine mess you got me into, Jedi," Atton muttered as he peeked back around the corner and unleashed a blaster bolt into the chest of an advancing warrior.

Seja wheezed, the wound in his chest still seeping despite the Force Healing he drew upon. He still could not believe Callista was gone, but it was not the time to mourn.

Atton lowered the muzzle of his weapon and ducked back around the corner as the wall exploded under return fire. He flung a grenade back toward their pursuers and grabbed Seja. "Keep moving!" he yelled and sprinted for another position of cover.

Several steps into their retreat, the corner disintegrated in a fireball as the Mandalorians found the range. A shockwave and chunks of duracrete hammered into the two operatives' backs, throwing them forward.

Atton's head swam and his ears rang. He quickly wiped soot and dust from his eyes and seized the wounded Seja by the collar, pulling him out of the debris. He staggered to his feet and turned to see a warrior leaping through the smoke.

Atton's training took over. He crouched into an Echani fighting stance and unleashed a stream of bolts into the Mandalorian. The warrior's armor blew apart and he fell at Atton's feet. Two more warriors came at him, their blasters raised menacingly.

Jaq Rand was not a person to feel much fear, but things were getting out of hand. He lit up one of the warriors, firing a torrent of plasma into the man and the warrior fell back, shooting harmlessly into the air. The other warrior kept coming and Atton called out, "Seja, some of your Jedi shit would be useful about now."

As more Mandalorians charged, Atton dove to the side, still firing as bolts burst around him. Though weakened, Seja ignited his blade and slapped away blaster fire. The Jedi struggled forward and hewed the arm off of the first warrior, the limb falling with his weapon.

Atton got to his knees and pressed the trigger, but nothing happened – his tibanna gas had gone dry. Instinctively, he pressed the release and a magazine fell away. He slapped a new gas pack in and raised the rifle to his eyes.

Suddenly, a great pain shot through his body as sparks burst upon his chest. The rifle flew out of his grasp and he tumbled over backward. The smell of his own smoking flesh reached up to his nostrils and he blinked hard, looking up into the night sky.

Vaguely…dimly, he could hear Seja's lightsaber and the cries of the wounded. Then, all was quiet.

"I guess we're not going to make that shuttle…." he whispered.