W/N - Wow, I'm actually getting back to this story. Thanks to BaM for a great beta. I hope you like action, because that's what we have...along with some intrigue and spies. I want to portray a cat and mouse game between Revan and the Mandalorians.

Not to Reason Why – Part III

Aboard the RNS Eagle

Revan sat in the command chair, her gray eyes fixated on the Tactical Display of the battle. As she had commanded, Malak tightened the formation of his fleet and took a defensive stance. The heavy ships pulled in close with destroyers and frigates screening the force. Red and blue dots swirled around the display, looking like two enemies locked in a death grip. As Malak's ships came together, Revan could see that they now gave each other greater mutual support. The fury of the Mandalorian assault was cooling.

The initiative is shifting. You have done well, Malak, she thought, sending her compliment across space with the Force.

She twirled a lock of ebony hair while focusing in on one enemy ship on the display. "That must be Bendak Starkiller," she said, analyzing its characteristics and place at the head of the Mandalorian offensive. "He has plagued me since Dxun." Revan swung her seat around to look at Jedi Treymar, the tactical officer. "Concentrate fire on that command vessel, if you please," she ordered, pointing to Bendak's ship. "We must take the head off of the snake."

"Aye, Admiral," he said, looking back at her…admiring her.

Revan returned a reassuring smile to the man. "You have been with me since Dantooine, have you not?"

Treymar nodded confidently as he quickly put together the plan that would coordinate the fleet's attack. Though a Jedi, he wore a Republic officer's uniform as Revan had instructed all the Jedi to do...all the Jedi except her lover, Malak. This was done to promote cohesion and unity in the fleet that had been so divided under political rule. "I cheered your victory over Master Vrook," Treymar said, "and I will celebrate your victory over Mandalore."

Revan turned back to the display and cocked her head as if listening. She pursed her lips for a moment. "Treymar, something tells me that Bendak Starkiller will die by my hand, but that day is not today. Nevertheless, signal all ships to implement the attack plan."

The young Jedi forwarded the command and soon, Revan could see her starfighters deploying in attack formations, followed by Mai-Lyn's assault shuttles. Hundreds of blue dots appeared on the display and quietly made their way toward the Mandalorians, who were engaged with Malak.

A vacant smile graced the admiral's lips. She stood slowly and walked to Treymar. "Implement Operation SPURIOUS just before we enter battle," she announced, telling him to activate the two mysterious ships that she had previously deployed on the edges of her fleet. "Now, it is time for me to lead from the front."

"Admiral?"

"A starfighter has been prepared for me. I will fight alongside my men. Treymar, you have the ship. Make me proud."

The young man was awestruck by his leader's charisma…as he had always been. The way in which she could smile in the heat of battle, her infectious confidence, and the connection that she shared with her people held him in thrall. He knelt before her and kissed the sleeve of her gray tunic. She tousled his curly, brown hair and then departed the bridge.

The turbolift took her to the flight deck, where she strode past worshipful crewmen. A specialist presented her with a black flightsuit and she entered the locker room to change into it. She slid out of her regular uniform and placed it in a locker, admiring the many medals and ribbons that adorned the breast.

Ah, the Serocco Campaign…one of my finest and hardest fought. I bypassed three systems to strike where Mandalore would least expect me to. Admiral Karath's diversion was another one of my master strokes. I suspect that the bypassed Mandalorians would have starved by now, cut off from resupply and without the food that we destroyed with our biological weapons.

It was a cold tactic…yes, but effective.

Serocco…the troops of that campaign have earned their keep and are always near to my heart.

Down to her underwear, Revan took the flightsuit in hand. Its outer surface was smooth and shiny like metal, but inside, it was soft and warm. She slipped her lithe body into it, letting it envelope her like a glove. It sealed in front and was entirely form-fitting, leaving little to the imagination.

Revan then took a black helmet from a rack and examined it. Tubes for oxygen and mikes for communication would cover her nose and mouth, while a reflective visor would cover her eyes. The Republic's eight-pointed symbol adorned the forehead of the helm. Placing it in the crook of her arm, she emerged into the hangar bay.

The admiral basked in the glow of adoring crewmen who stopped their activities to gaze adoringly on Revan as an officer escorted their Admiral to her personal craft. This prototype was sleek and highly modified to take advantage of her command of the Force.

The crew chief affixed the boarding ladder to the fuselage and bowed. "Admiral, I made sure all of your personal specifications were met. I was honored that you chose me to create your starfighter."

She raised him up. "Chief Hartoss, I trust you completely," she said and then boarded the starfighter. He climbed the ladder after her to connect her life support systems. With her gloved hand, she touched his cheek and then donned her helmet.

Hartoss climbed down the ladder and removed it while the canopy of the craft closed. Revan gave a thumbs up and the chief pointed to the ground crew, who activated the auxiliary power unit to start the engines. The powerful ion turbines began turning and hoses fell away from the craft, spewing steam.

Revan activated the electrical systems and lights blinked in the cockpit. She took a deep breath of oxygen as her starfighter was towed to the catapult. A green light appeared on the bulkhead and Revan pushed the throttle forward. Yellow bars shot upward on her engine instruments and blue flame shot out the rear of the craft. She looked over to see Chief Hartoss salute.

Slowly, deliberately, she returned the gesture and Hartoss knelt, making a chopping motion toward space with both of his hands and Revan was hurled into battle.

Bridge of the Blade Dancer, Bendak Starkiller's Flagship

Clad in his thick, Mandalorian armor, Bendak Starkiller stood calmly as another assault against Malak's fleet was repulsed. The commander was legendary for his ability to stay calm and face death time and time again. Focused on the battle, he vacantly stroked the hilt of his vibrosword sheathed at his side.

"You've bloodied many a Republic soldier…and many a Jedi," he said, looking down at the weapon, which he had named Blood Dueler. He drew the blade and cradled it lovingly. Then, with a flourish, he spun the razor-sharp weapon, displaying his incredible skill with it as he manipulated the handle. "And no Mandalorian but the Mandalore has avoided your touch."

A voice from one of his warriors caught his attention.

"Bendak, Revan's fleet is closing in behind us. She has deployed starfighters ahead of the capital ships and General T'Sing's assault shuttles."

"ETA until contact?"

"Five minutes at current rate of closure…Bendak…we've intercepted a communication that tells us that Revan is leading the starfighter formations."

Bendak put his hand to his armored chin. "This will be a great coup," he said, almost in a whisper. Springing to action, he aimed his finger at another warrior. "Break contact with Malak and have all ships reverse direction. Have the remnants of Ordo's force cover our withdrawal. We are going to catch Revan with her pants down and I for one will enjoy the view."

The message was sent to all ships and the helmsman of the Blade Dancer skillfully swung the ponderous flagship around. Basilisk Droids from Ordo's force continued the furious assault to hold Malak's fleet in place and prevent him from coming to Revan's rescue.

When the Blade Dancer had completed the maneuver, Bendak inhaled deeply. "Command the fleet to lay mines to further slow Malak," he ordered his Executive Officer.

Turning to the communications officer, the commander spoke quietly, "Activate the Mandalore's operative on Malak's ship. I don't like using…spies," he said distastefully, "but the Mandalore wishes it."

The warrior nodded and sent the low-powered, encrypted message that penetrated into Malak's ship. In a moment, two, innocuous power spikes emanated from the Indefatigable and were captured by the Mandalorian ship's sensor array.

"Message received, Bendak."

"Excellent. Now let us duel with Revan. Accelerate to flank speed."

The drone of the great ion engines grew and the deck plates shuddered with the increase in power. Bendak looked to his own Tactical Display and saw the waves of Revan's starfighters closing. One craft in front stood out with a higher power output and stronger weapons signatures.

"That will be Revan's starfighter. I'll take her out first and cut the head off of the snake."

A warrior chimed in, "One minute until we're within weapons range. Ordo's force has Malak fixed in place at great cost. The Ordo's are taking a beating, but that red menace won't be bothering us."

The symbols representing each fleet grew closer by the second. Bendak tensed the hand that was wrapped around the hilt of his vibrosword. "Bring the forward batteries to full power and the front shields to maximum. Prepare to launch torpedoes on my mark."

A tone indicated that the proton weapons were within firing range.

"Fire!" Bendak declared confidently and hundreds of torpedoes streaked ahead of the Mandalorian fleet. Numbers clocked down on the display as the weapons neared their targets. Dozens of torpedoes were aimed at Revan alone – there could be no escape.

"We have detonation," announced the weapons officer and Bendak saw bright flashes light up the space ahead. He made a triumphant fist and a cheer rose on the bridge.

'Wait," said the sensor officer, who was checking electronic spikes on his display. "I'm getting odd readings…those were sensor ghosts…decoys." The display was now blank.

Bendak turned, his body showing his shock. "What? How could this happen?"

"Revan deployed two electronic warfare ships on the flanks of her assault. We should have seen this coming."

With a frustrated grunt, Bendak coldly drew his sword and struck the head of the sensor officer clean off. Blood spouted to the ceiling of the bridge as the body collapsed to the deck. Then, the ship rocked and its shields lit up the darkness.

"Torpedo impact!" shouted a warrior as the Republic starfighters appeared on the tactical display. "Revan's starfighters…they're inside our formation."

A flight of starfighters slashed by the forward viewing port, laser cannons blinking. Red lights began flashing at the damage control station. Another blast rocked the ship.

Static crackled on the speakers until a woman's voice came through loud and clear. "That was a bold move, Bendak. I applaud your audacity."

The massive Mandalorian nodded with cold satisfaction. "You are a demon, Revan. You should have been a Mandalorian. Only you truly understand us."

"I thank you. Your warriors will die honorable deaths."

The line was cut and Bendak turned to see Revan's starfighter leading a wing. They were starting an attack run. "Target that starfighter," he ordered with ultimate calm, pointing to Revan's craft. Turbolaser batteries opened up, hurling bolts of energy into space. However, Revan flitted about, seeming to know just where to move to avoid the plasma. Her own weapons twinkled in response and lasers lashed along the bridge of the Blade Dancer.

"Bendak, shields are down!" a warrior called just before energy sliced through durasteel into the room. Suddenly, air, metal, and armored bodies were sucked into space in a whirling gush. Bendak was flung into a console and he grunted with the impact. He deftly seized a bolted chair and hung on. "Engineering, establish shields over the bridge."

The crackle of energy sounded over the ruined bridge and the vortex of air rushing out of the fissures came to an abrupt end. Bendak slammed back onto the deck just in time for explosions to rumble aft of the bridge. Revan had launched a torpedo into one massive ion engine and the ship lurched to port.

Now alone, the Mandalorian pulled himself up to see Revan veer away and launch another torpedo into the Blade Dancer's sister ship. The cylinder punctured the armored hull like a needle, burying itself deep in the ship's guts. Then, flame and shockwave erupted from the Massacre and the ship vanished in a flash.

Numerous Mandalorian ships were burning and it was difficult for them to return fire, being so close together. Activating the damaged communications console, Bendak spoke, "Open formation and eliminate the starfighters. Move quickly, Revan's capital ships are almost in range."

The well-trained and experienced Mandalorian crews began spacing themselves apart. Bendak breathed deeply, forcing himself to stay calm. It would get better shortly as his ships could now deal with Revan's starfighters and her heavy ships were passing alongside his, lined up, nose to tail in order to fire broadsides. Then, instead of firing, they turned toward him, accelerating. Beneath his helmet, Bendak's eyes widened and he could not believe his good fortune.

"Maintain open formation and turn to starboard to bring your broadsides to bear." The Mandalorian ships veered right, allowing them to unleash the full weight of their broadsides on the Republic ships while only the Republic's forward batteries could engage.

Bendak fought the urge to be smug. He had outmaneuvered Revan, but he knew she was full of surprises.

Mandalorian turbolasers ripped into the Republic formation, shattering shields and armored plates. Yet, Revan's ships continued to accelerate ahead. Bendak studied the unfolding slaughter and scratched his head. "What is she doing," he whispered.

Then, it all became clear.

In the Weapons Bay Aboard the RNS Indefatigable

Next to a Republic assault shuttle, Bao-Dur knelt over an opening in a massive cylinder, working furiously on its electronic guts with both of his hands. The soft-spoken Zabrak's brow glistened with perspiration amid his head spikes as he cranked a wrench around some bolt.

"Hand me that screwdriver, if you would," he asked another technician and the thin man began to search through a tool bag. Metal clinked against metal until the man removed a long, thin tool and passed it to his partner.

"Thanks, Henrik. You know, it's quite an honor that Malak chose us to create this weapon that will end the war for good," Bao-Dur said in his slow drawl.

"What's it suppose to do? I mean, I'm just a techie – they don't tell me much."

The Zabrak inserted the screwdriver into the opening and pressed the trigger. Zzzttt zzzzttt zzzztt. "There, the arming mechanism is in place…. Well, my friend, as far as I understand it, it draws matter and anti-matter together into a detonation chamber. It certainly has the power to destroy an entire Mandalorian base or stronghold. We could use it to take out the fortress on Malachor Seven."

"Wow, that's amazing. Do you think it could destroy a fleet of ships?" Henrik asked, looking around and seeing several men approach.

Bao-Dur stepped back and picked up the hatch for the cylinder. He placed it gently over the opening and began to screw it shut. "I don't see why not. All you'd have to do is aim it right."

"So, what will you call it? I think you should name it as its creator."

Bao-Dur nodded with satisfaction. "I suppose I should. I'll call it the Mass Shadow Generator."

Then, his blood ran cold as he heard the whine of a blaster pistol grow louder. He turned to see Henrik, holding the weapon on him. Six men stood with him. "Sorry, Bao, it's nothing personal…just business. Now, if you'd kindly help us load the…Mass Shadow Generator into that shuttle, we'll be on our way."

Bao-Dur was about to protest when Henrik shot the floor in front of him. The blast ricocheted off the ground and into a nearby bulkhead. The Zabrak sighed. "Okay, you win, Henrik. I'll help you, but I just want to know why."

With a smirk, Henrik motioned for Bao-Dur and the others to begin moving the weapon onto the shuttle. "You always were a curious one, Bao. Well, amazingly, the Mandalorians and the Republic Senate agree on one thing: Revan must be eliminated."

"But the Mandalorians are doomed," Bao-Dur protested as he and the others hoisted the weapon with a small crane.

"Yes, I know. It will be a small victory for the Mandalore before he perishes. However, it is important that the proper conditions exist at the end of the war."

"What proper conditions?"

"Revan's death will create a power vacuum in which the Senate could name their hero, ensuring their return to pre-war power and wealth. I have been well compensated for this…this nudge in the flow of history."

Bao-Dur grimaced. "You…you monster."

Henrik turned sad for a moment. "No more than you, my friend, having created this monstrosity. Did you really think that Malak would have used it only on military targets? Look at how he has slid toward anger and violence in this war. Even now, he is beginning to be at odds with Revan. He will be blamed for Revan's demise and he will be sacked and executed as a murderer." Henrik smiled, smug in his victory. "Tidy, isn't it?"

Bao-Dur shook for a moment in rage and despair. He had to do something. With unnatural strength, he shoved the cylinder into the six men, knocking them back. He then leapt onto Henrik, grabbing his arm as the man fired shots into the wall. The Zabrak wrenched the pistol from Henrik's hand and turned to see the traitors rushing him. With two quick shots, he dropped one attacker and then dodged under the blow of another. Bao-Dur pointed the muzzle at that man and yanked the trigger several times, letting blood and guts mist over him.

Amid howls, Bao-Dur ran to the cylinder for cover as thrown tools rained down around him. A wrench struck him in the head and he staggered, his vision going black. On his knees, he forced himself to stay conscious and fired under the swinging cylinder into another attacker.

Then, there was a sound behind him. Bao-Dur turned to fire, but a razor-sharp blade cut through his left arm and it. The Zabrak screamed, raising his bloody stump and firing with his right hand into the ceiling. He tried to focus, tried to fight, but the point of a vibroblade rammed into his belly.

He crumpled to the floor, cold sweat and blood upon his face and curled into a fetal position. Footsteps sounded near his head and he glanced up to see the muzzle of the blaster aimed at his face.

"I should splatter your brains all over this deck, Bao, but we were friends once. I'll just have to let you die knowing you created your beloved admiral's demise. Farewell, Bao."

With that, the remaining men loaded the Mass Shadow Generator onto the shuttle. They could escape amid the confusion of battle to destroy Revan.