Marai
The trip back was faster than I had anticipated. I now had an ultimate goal, though my guide was unwilling to lead me there until I had proven worthy by her own lights. Bao-Dur had grown past his fury into a mature enlightenment. All in all it was a better day that the one before.
We made it back to the camp, and the Handmaiden came to me. Bao-Dur was with her, and as much as he seemed to rail against it, he had a flask of Mandalorian tea.
"As I told you, Kex said there's a bunker full of old repair and construction droids." He brought out a map, and pointed. "Here, about a klick and a half to the west."
"Where that idiot Kumus went." I looked up. I didn't recognize the man, but his shoulder flashes said he was the command sergeant major.
"And your name?"
"Xarga. I'm the one in charge of recruit training. I sent Kumus out there to blow the door, and check out the inside of the cache to see what was usable. But that was two days ago. He's probably dead by now, the D'kut." He looked at the map over my shoulder. "If he is there, could you bring him back?"
"Bring his body?" Bao-Dur asked. I pictured lugging a rotting corpse a kilometer and a half.
"Don't be daft about it. If he's dead, all we need is his equipment. That will do."
"Nice to have the option." I replied.
We started off along the path leading to the cache. Like the short cut to our ship, this one had been lined with older Mandalorian designed sensor packets. Anyone who saw them would probably assume that they were leftovers from the war. A properly emplaced and designed packet will be operational a century from now.
As we approached, The Handmaiden signaled. "The cache, the door is open. And there are... visitors."
The visitors were a family of Boma beasts. They charged at us and we dealt with them swiftly. We went into the tunnel, finding a sealed door, and opened it. We stepped in.
The room had the musty smell of a tomb I felt something and looked up. There was a heavy construction droid three and a half meters tall it was standing up completely straight and in its manipulator claws was...
"Could you possibly help me?" He asked plaintively. He was very young, and very nervous.
The Handmaiden held her sides, her face quivering. I bit my lip to keep from laughing out loud.
Bao-Dur walked over to stand below the droid. "Got yourself in quite a pickle there."
"No, really?"
"I've never seen that happen before. Care to explain?"
"Well I'd blown the doors, came in, found the master foreman unit, and activated it. I was heading out when a pack of Boma charged-"
"They don't like loud noises." The Handmaiden gasped out.
"I wish someone had told me that. I hit the emergency control, and keyed in for it to put me in a place of safety. But the master foreman is only about your size. " He pointed at a limp figure in the corner. I suddenly saw a mass of droids standing there as if waiting. "It had the Mark IV pick me up, but then a Boma smacked into it, and it was shut down." He held up the control box.
"If it isn't working, the others won't work either. And this damn thing is holding me too tight to wriggle free."
Bao-Dur walked over, opening the droid's chest panel. "Shoddy workmanship." He commented, working on the wiring.
"Hey it's just a construction droid. All it has to do is follow orders."
"But if you build it weak, it breaks easily." He gave a final tap, and the droid suddenly stood up.
"Finally!' The young Mandalorian hit the controls, and the smaller droid looked first at us, then at him. "No you mechanical moron, they are not the enemy. I can get down." He keyed in another command. The foreman squealed a high pitch order, and the huge droid leaned forward setting the man down beside us.
"I have a feeling your name is Kumus."
"Guilty as charged, Say, you guys wouldn't happen to have any rat packs would you?" The Handmaiden handed him one, and he ate as if he hadn't touched food in days, which was probably the case, from the ripped open backpack on the floor.
"Could you do something for me?" He asked.
"Sure." I said.
"Could you not tell the sergeant what happened? He already considers me incompetent, and I'd rather not prove it."
"Your secret's safe with us." Bao-Dur said.
The young man stepped over to the hatch opened it, looked around as if he expected another Boma attack, then stepped out. He keyed the box and in a line the droids followed. The last was the huge Mark IV, which had to crawl through it.
We waited several minutes then suddenly it hit us. We roared, we rolled on the ground; we let out the laughter in gales. Finally we stopped. There was nothing remaining of value, so we headed back toward the encampment.
I held up a hand, and the others straggled to a stop. Ahead of us, a body lay on the path. I could tell from here that the end had been violent.
We approached, and I looked to the side. Stopping again, I patiently said, "You can come out now."
A segment of the forest resolved into a Mandalorian. Unlike the usual trooper armor, his was a flat gray with an automatic camouflage setting. Even standing still, the world rippled behind him.
"Well, fancy meeting you here."
"Hello, Kelborn." Bao-Dur said.
"You know each other?"
"We talked today while I was fine tuning that camo field of his." Bao-Dur said. "Kelborn is the First blade of the Manda'lor."
"I though there were no patrols out."
"I'm an infiltrator." Kelborn replied. "I don't patrol, I scout. I was tracking that last ship."
"The Duros-"
"Nah. They came down with their transponder screaming for rescue, typical city boys. The other though, it came in cold, maneuvering jets only. Tricky bit of work. I found where it landed, but the ship had left. Then I found him."
I knelt looking at what was left of the body. "Cannocks."
"Yeah."
I lifted the man's arm, and looked at the unit flash on his right shoulder.
"The Iron Brigade. General Vaklu's personal guard."
"You have done your home work."
"I fought here during the war." I commented, waving at the jungle.
"So did I. I was captured here."
"At least you lived." I said, standing away from the body.
"There is that." Kelborn hunkered down, looking at the trail. "He came from that way. Walking fat and stupid. Pretty green. He probably never knew what hit him. But he's not the only one walking around. I've been getting snippets of encrypted transmissions from at least three sources." He took off his helmet. He was about five years older than I was. He looked at me speculatively. "Want to have some fun?"
"What did you have in mind?"
"A hunt. You be the beaters, I'm the stopper. If I hang back about thirty meters east of here, you can drive them to me."
"Or maybe I talk to them and they merely go."
"There is that. I don't mind not killing them if they're smart enough to run."
"All right." I drew a line in the air. "We'll go west as far as the trail allows, then cut back on the one to the south, and push them ahead of us. Assuming all they are doing is scouting, that is what they will do."
"You've done this before."
"The last time it was Mandalorians about fifty klicks from here."
"Old days." He harrumphed. He stood, slipping the helmet back on, and slid back into the brush.
We trotted down the trail. I was in the lead, all of my senses extended as far as they would reach. I found a discontinuity. The animals there were nervous. I motioned, and we slowed to a silent pad.
I felt them before I could see them. We dropped to our knees behind the shrubs. There were two of them, watching every way as if it would help. "We'll have to tell the lieutenant about Laane." The female said.
"What, that he was an idiot?" The male snarled. "He had the briefing, but he walked right into a Cannock ambush with a big freaking sign that said 'dinner is served!'." He snorted in disgust. "I hope this is worth it to the colonel because we're not making it off this moon alive."
"Wait." The woman said. She spun. The Jedi is over there!"
She opened fire, but she was aiming almost exactly 180 degrees away from us. There was a roar and a Zakkeg ripped through the trees and charged them. They are not placid beasts, but they can be avoided by not trying to attract their notice. Moving is bad.
Shooting is worse.
We walked around the feeding animal. "There are times when stupidity is punishable by death." Bao-Dur commented.
"Colonel. Maybe this colonel Tobin was who ordered them to shoot us down?"
"Possibly."
The other patrol had not fared any better. Three of them had faced off against a pack of Boma armed just with their rifles and raw courage. Not enough when the beasts were angry. We moved toward Kelborn's ambush and found him crouched among three more bodies.
"Nine bodies total?" He asked after we reported. "That's the lot. I just wish I knew who sent them."
"They mentioned a colonel."
"If so I have to commend you on the nature of your enemies. Colonel Tobin is General Vaklu's personal hound. He won't wipe his nose unless the General gave permission." He snorted. The Mando'a believe in leading by example. A toady doesn't have a long life expectancy among them. "How did you rate?"
"I shrugged." He ordered fighters to attack us and caused that mess in orbit."
"Just like him. Ever hear the old expression, 'When the only tool you have is a hammer, you start thinking of every problem being a nail'?" I nodded. "Tobin was born with a hammer, and doesn't believe any other tool exists. And Vaklu needs him."
"For what?" The man I remembered was still angry about the Mandalorian incursion, and the Iron Brigade had originally been made up of survivors of the guerrilla war he had fought against the Mandalorians from the invasion almost 50 years ago when The Onderoni had been forced to cede Dxun to them.
They had of course had to occupy Onderon when they decided to conquer the Republic, but Vaklu had been brilliant. His men made sure no civilians were included in their actions, stripping the enemy of the chance at full-scale reprisals. By the time we took Dxun they had half a million men on Onderon and were losing ground every day. It might even have been a relief if we hadn't merely sent them all to POW camps when Onderon surrendered, as the Blade to Blade challenge required.
"Vaklu is still mad about the Queen's father taking them into the Republic. He's her cousin, and they've been at it hammer and tongs since it happened. It'll come to a coup if Vaklu ever believes he can win, and Onderon will go it's own way again."
That was not good. Onderon supplied a lot of badly needed materials, and the animals of this moon were only the least of it. According to Republic law, trade had to go through the Republic Trade Authority, and getting a trade license through them was like trying to retrieve your weapon from a Cannock by sticking your hand down his throat.
"I have to report. Take care."
"Fare in honor."
He grinned, sliding the helmet back on.
We followed at a more sedate pace. I felt something, and we detoured. Ahead of us, a young Boma was ripping apart a corpse. Blessedly not human.
Wait a moment. I heard Kreia's voice in my head. It is just what I hoped for. A Boma by itself.
It is time for you to learn a paltry skill of the Beast-riders of Onderon. Reach out with your feelings. Can you sense its mind?
I closed my eyes. Yes, I could feel it. It was concentrating on the meal. Oblivious to all but that rich fare. I could feel its contentment.
Good. The Force flows through every living thing and if you empty your own mind, you can feel its thoughts.
Suddenly I was looking through its eyes. The meat was nauseating to me, but it was a grand banquet to him. Soon he would feel the urge to breed, and he dimly remembered the last time. I pulled away as it remembered the rutting,
They are not conscious of their existence beyond their needs. Memory is moment to moment. Beasts are so much easier to affect than sentient beings. There is no argument with instinct, no questions as to why. But to succeed, you must bridge the gap between sentient and not.
You feel its consciousness. Yes, that rumble before a thunderstorm that you feel. Now reach out. Use the Force to put a barrier between it and that conscious spark. Do it subtly, for they have bred from the ones able to escape if a Beast Rider does this.
Mentally I fashioned a web, a glittering mesh of the Force, and felt it sink into the mind of the beast. It stilled.
I could feel it. The ears cocking back as it heard a noise that was not a danger. Then the wind shifted, and it smelled us. It tried to turn, to attack, but I nudged it's thoughts away. There is nothing there. I whispered to it. You are remembering another time. You are hungry, feed.
It snorted in confusion, and we backed away slowly.
You have potential. In time you could have walked it through the Mandalorian encampment as if it were a pet.
Why couldn't you have taught me this earlier? I asked her mentally.
All things in time, my dear. You will have need of this skill as time goes on... Then she was gone again.
Transport
Marai
The camp was bustling, and every adult Mando'a had a weapon. The children and women still too young to fight were pulled back into some of the
interior bunkers.
The Guard captain gave me a salute. Not the sardonic ones they usually give to out worlders, but the one reserved for those they respected.
"Manda'lor wants to see you. We're going to full alert."
"The men in the jungle?"
"If Vaklu finds out we're here, the fecal matter will hit the rotary impeller big time." He said. "It's just the kind of excuse he needs to start his coup."
I nodded. We hurried across the compound. Manda'lor was at his desk with Kelborn, and nodded as I came in.
"We're going to a series activation of the mine field in ten minutes. The best approach for a camouflaged attacker is along here, so they are to be activated first. Every one is on full alert until further notice."
"Chu!" Kelborn ran out, tapping his helmet to activate the com link.
Manda'lor looked at us. "Kelborn says they seem to be after you. Not even Tobin is stupid enough to drop a corporal's guard in here if he suspected our presence. So I've ordered my shuttle prepped. We leave on the hour."
"I'm ready."
"I'll send someone to get you." He dismissed us.
Bao-Dur caught my arm. "General before we go, the Mandalorians put together a gift for you." I looked at him confused. He led me to Kex. He, Bralor one of the senior troopers, and Kelborn were standing outside the weapons store. They saw me approach, and they pushed Kex to the fore.
"We wanted you to remember us." The bluff quartermaster started as if reading a badly memorized speech. "Some of this was found since we came, but both Bralor our best warrior, and Kelborn our First Blade gave of their collections. Use it with honor." He handed a bundle to me.
I opened it, and my breath caught. Five lightsabers in varied stages of disrepair lay in my hands. I looked at them, a lump forming in my throat. A lightsaber is a personal extension of the Jedi that made it, and I knew each of these sabers, and the people they had belonged to.
"In grace was it given, and with humble appreciation it is accepted." I stumbled through the proper thank you. "May I always use this gift with honor."
We walked away. Bao-Dur motioned toward the machine shop, and I shook my head. "I need to say goodbye to some old friends."
Both of them left me, and I stared at the bundle.
Karin, one of my best friends among the Jedi. She had been of the Main Temple as was I. An anti-ship mount had blown her fighter apart. If it had not been seen, we would have listed her as missing. There was nothing left of her body.
Mach. The oldest of those that came with us. Always laughing, one of the best with a lightsaber I had ever seen. A company of Mando'a had cornered him at Blood Pass. Of the one hundred odd men who had faced him ten had remained alive. The others had been scattered about his body like chaff.
Rian. Always the somber one. She was so stolid and controlled that few knew she was a practical joker at heart. She had last been seen charging an encampment about 200 klicks from where I was. Her body had been found atop a mound of Mandalorian dead.
Lazasar. A Twi-lek. He was always the peacemaker. One of the few Consulars who had come with us. He had been shot while under a flag of truce. The men with him, the remnants of two regiments had swarmed the walls, and would have put every Mandalorian there to the sword if I had not stopped them.
Brissia. A smiling face was what I remembered best. She was always allowing herself to be the butt of every joke, and no one ever considered that she was having more fun that they were at it. Her shuttle had been blown apart beyond Blood Pass during the landing, parts of her and thirty men scattered across a cone three kilometers long.
I held the lightsabers to me, and found that I still had tears for my fallen comrades.
Discussion
Manda'lor
I climbed up on the side of the shuttle with Zuka. He'd improved in the last days. That Zabrak friend of the Jedi woman had stiffened his spine. "The portside stabilizers?"
"Smooth as silk, Manda'lor."
"Are we ready?"
"Few more minutes."
I climbed down then went to a defensive stance. A woman stood there. I had never seen her before. She walked over, looking at my ship with a practiced air.
"Is everything ready for your trip?"
"Who are you?"
"Who I am is incidental to our conversation. My concern is for the one you escort to Onderon. Would you do less for one of your own clan?"
"Don't pretend to understand us, woman. The Mando'a are a race apart from your kind."
"If by a race apart you mean scattered broken and lost, then you are correct."
"Not for long. We will grow strong again, under my banner."
"As yes, yet another great crusade. To gather your scattered brethren and bind them back beneath a single standard." Her tone was sarcastic. She looked at me, and I felt the laughter within her. Laughing at us!
"You always have a 'crusade' to fight, don't you? You chose that as a banner when first you supported, and then fought against Exar Kun. Then you used it as a cry to fight the Republic. And how did that one turn out? Revan Malak and that one we speak of taught you the meaning of respecting power, did they not? Revan was too kind to you; your defeat was too merciful. That last battle should be what you and your kind remember. A million and a half Mandalorians perished at Malachor V alone. I should not have to remind you of that."
"Yes. An entire generation gone in an instant. I was there, and the Jedi and their puppets didn't fare much better. But no matter how many of my blood still float there dead, the Mando'a are still here, Clan Ordo still lives. And we are being redeemed.
"Look at Kex there. He was nothing but muscle to the Hutts on Nar Shaddaa. Kelborn was scouting new planets for a Duros consortium. Fully a dozen here are those born on Rakata Prime that are now clan Wordweaver; who fought beside Revan herself in that.
"I brought them back together at Revan's behest. I gave them a purpose again. The Galaxy is not rid of us yet."
"Ah but that is the future, and the future is always in motion. Not even a Jedi Master can read it, and you stand there and boast about it! What would you say if I told you that there might not be a great age of the Mando'a? That there is a future where Malachor V was merely the last inhalation of breath before the death rattle of your entire race? That five centuries from now the Mandalorians will be a monster invoked by nurses to make their charges behave at night?
"And what do I see of that future now? I see a poor deluded fool wounded by the Jedi, befriended by one, believing in his fevered dreams that he can turn an ocean tide with his bare hands!"
I sputtered in fury. How dare this old woman say such things!
"Calm yourself, Manda'lor. I am merely foretelling what will happen if you fail my charge. You expected to merely act as a taxi and deliver her to her door. But you will do much more than that. You will travel with her and keep her safe. You have a sense of loyalty, and you will exercise it for her. So many masters over the years since the Mandalorian fall, was it not? And only two prey on your mind. One that betrayed you, and the one... The one that abandoned you." She smiled, and there was no humor in it.
"Have you ever wondered where she wanders as we speak, Canderous Ordo of Clan Ordo, Manda'lor at her command? Why she gave you orders to bring your scattered people home, then left you alone?"
My blood ran cold. I remembered that last conversation. We had run from Coruscant. Not because we were pursued, but because she knew too many would either try to stop her, or want to go with her.
We had stopped at an old landing field outside the capital of Darien V. She had taken me to a cantina. There she had bought me a drink.
"I must ask you to do something for me, Manda'lor."
"Until they accept me, I cannot accept the title. Once you have spoken-"
"I cannot speak. There are things I must do. A call that cannot be denied." She replied. I must go and you must accept my orders."
"What means this?"
"Gather the clans back together. Forge them into a sword that can survive all else in the Galaxy, but until you are commanded, you must stay your hand. Do this for me."
I had agreed. Somewhere in the evening, I fell asleep. I awoke in a travelers rest. There before me was the helmet of Manda'lor. The symbol of the true Manda'lor of the Mandalorian people. The ship and Revan were gone.
"How did you know that you witch?"
"I know a lot of things, Manda'lor. I know so many things that even now you burn to ask. Of her, of the future; but the answer I give will have it's price. You will escort this one, watch over her. She is more important to me than anything in my life. She is worth a crusade or two.
"Show the true spirit of the Manda'lor you claim to be. If there is to be a Mandalorian quest, let it be for something they will remember when the stars finally die. Where even if none survive, the name Mandalorian will be synonymous with honor and loyalty.
"The one I ask you to protect walks that path. She will find what you seek. She is sister to you and that one by a bond deeper than life itself. Remember that blood tie, even if all else falls behind you."
I watched her walk away.
I don't know who that harridan is, but we should have watched her instead of the Jedi!
Zuka
The droids from the cache moved back into the encampment, and I checked the switches. All right series two." I said over the com link. Series one had gone without a hitch, and there were only four lines left. "Back up lads. Series three." No problems. Series four-"
A blast bellowed, and a body leaped into the air fifty meters from the gate. I triggered five and six without warning, and more bodies flew apart. "We got company!"
Marai
I heard the first explosion, and was already in motion. Something ahead of me alerted me and I leaped. What happened next took all of a second. As I leaped I kicked my legs over, and twisted my body, so I landed, facing the opposite direction. My blade snapped forward, and it suddenly blossomed red along its length. Then suddenly there was a man there, clutching at my hands as he fell backward dying. They were using some joining of the Force and camouflage and I reached out trying to find them...
It was as if my mind exploded outward, encompassing the entire encampment. I could see and feel everyone in it. Some of them were black spots in the Force, there, but not there at the same time. Then my mind fragmented further...
Handmaiden
I saw Marai leap, and knew somehow what she fought, even though I could not see it. I saw another blot of emptiness, and her landing put her back to it. I snapped the control of my vibro-sword to it's highest setting the whine biting into my nerves as I threw it in a flat arch like a chain. Marai was stabbing forward, and she turned oh so slightly, the tip of my blade passing her hip. Then it struck, and I saw the man suddenly appear as he fell in parts.
Xarga
The recruits stood there like morons, and I body slammed three of them down before the grenade went off wiping two more from existence like the god's own whisk broom. I was on my feet, and felt a throat under my hand, felt hands clawing at my grip even though there was nothing there, then suddenly I felt a neck snap, and I was holding a man by the throat.
Zuka
Gods don't let me screw this up Iprayed. We had turrets set up along the entry way and in the first section, and I keyed them, diving for cover. They had IFF systems, and weren't supposed to shoot at us, but I was the one that wired them up. There was a hammering sound as superheated plasma raked the quadrant, and I looked up as men were blown off their feet. Of course they were camouflaged but these would spike a gnat if it flew across, and spotted the slightest discontinuity in the atmosphere. Not just body heat, but the very dislocation of the molecules as you moved quickly. "Screw me, they work!" I screamed.
Kelborn
I am shadow, I am grass waving in the breeze Ithought. I was kneeling in the passageway. Their technology and force was good, but I had been trained to hear the falling of a leaf and they were making a hell of a lot more noise.
I cocked my fists back on either side of my body, hands even with my head. I saw them as slight ripples in the air, running toward the Jedi who was back by the hanger.
I felt their bodies hit me, and I triggered the blades, 30 centimeters of battle steel shot from my forearm along the guides in my gloves, and they were falling screaming as I retracted them. "Stupid." I hissed. "As if we don't know what stealth is."
Davrel
I'm going to die! My mind screamed. They were coming, and I could see the ripples as men ran through the depleted minefield. We'd killed fifty, a hundred, and they still came!
The Big Thunder heavy blaster rifle fired, and I ripped into them with the bolts. They weren't the little pellets of a hand weapon that will explode against your flesh. They were designed to combat armored vehicles, things with a thickness of a warship on their bows, and guns to match.
A man exploded into a mist and still I fired. "Sulash! More ammo! Damn you-" He was looking at me, one eye laying on his cheek. One of them had thrown something, and it had blasted through his head. I felt the urge to vomit, but I grabbed the magazines he had brought, training taking over as I slammed another in and kept killing
Bao-Dur
Iinstinctively kicked Kex in the knee, and he dropped. That saved his life. I recognized the stun staff, my prosthetic arm coming up the blast of electricity ripping through it. I was lucky. I had worried ever since it had been attached that I would accidentally cause an arc with it, and I had insulated it to the point that I could handle a bolt of raw lightning if it sat still long enough. The charge fried every servo and circuit, but didn't hit me.
Not that it was all peaches and cream. The arm spasmed, throwing me to the side, and I rolled as the assassin struck at me. I was on my back looking up when a blade ripped through the man's chest.
Kex pulled me to my feet. "We're clear for a moment." He said. "Sit."
"What?"
"You're going to be worthless if we don't fix that arm." He pushed me into a chair, pulled out a set of repair goggles, and picked up some micro tools. "I do this right, it'll take me just a moment. I do it wrong, you'll have to get another arm." He flipped them down, and popped the access panel.
"Why are you helping me?" I asked. "Do you know how many Mandalorians I killed during the war?"
"Not enough." He snorted. "We're still here."
"Seriously."
"You're on our side in this one aren't you?" He leaned forward. "Good just the circuit breakers. You do good work. Here we-" The arm clicked, and I saw the diagnostic screen light up. "All right, easy to fix. But better to rewire it later."
Manda'lor
Who dares? I stepped out, and ducked back, a shadowy hand shooting past my face. I caught the arm, lifted, and threw him into the wall. He bounced off, coming into view like a special effect, and I pounced on his back, my hand catching under his chin. I pulled, and felt the explosive crack of his spine shearing. Then I drew my weapon.
Kumus
I dropped the magazines at Gun seven, and turned. I dropped, and something came over my head. I was a warrior born and trained. I knew I wasn't smart enough to be a sergeant, or calm enough to be a scout. They called me the Boma because I was big, and when I got angry, I beat the hell out of people.
I came up, feeling the extended arm over my head, and my arms wrapped around the body it came from. I squeezed, feeling arms frantically beating at me, fists pounding on my shoulders, trying to make me let him go. Feet kicked, trying to groin me, but that much I had learned, and those blows hit rocky thighs.
There was a snapping sound, and he went limp in my arms. He was crippled from the waist down, and I lowered him until I felt his neck in my meaty fists. I grabbed that throat and squeezed, holding until there was no motion, no breath, no heartbeat.
Marai
I was everywhere and nowhere. I know I was watching myself as well; the man who died as I rounded the first corner was proof enough. The Handmaiden came up, and she was running to my left and slightly ahead, shield maiden to me.
A man appeared out of whatever stealth ability this was near a door, and held a grenade. "Jedi! Surrender or they die!"
That door led to one of the bunkers, filled with children the aged and women.
I hesitated, and suddenly there was a blur. The little boy that had given me that flower had leaped out, biting the hand, trying to get the grenade away from him. The man screamed, and he caught the boy by the throat. Then I was there. I saw the shock in his eyes as the blade went into and through him, pinning him like an insect. I grabbed the grenade from his hand, and threw it as if I hoped it would reach escape velocity. Thirty meters up it exploded, shrapnel raking the grass and walls.
I peeled his hand away from the boy's throat. Gods, he wasn't breathing! "No! I will not let another child die!" I screamed. I lay him down, breathed into his mouth, massaged his chest, felt his heart hammer then he rolled, coughing.
I cried as I saw him, and he rolled back, looking up at me.
He coughed again, motioning me down. "I saw my mother do this. Does this mean we're mated?" He asked in a whisper.
I laughed, holding him. If I could have guaranteed his life forever I would have said yes.
There is a moment where everything catches up with you after a battle. Before that it is a swirl of madness, where all you see is the enemy before you, your friends fighting or dying. You act on instinct, or that poor second, training. And survival was a matter of luck.
They did a study long ago that the most men die in the first thirty days of combat. A lot of military organizations tried to create training scenarios that would put you through 30 days of hell without killing you, so you had a better chance of survival.
But you know it's training. When the sensors on your clothes went off, they didn't toe tag you and bag you for burial. You went back to the barracks where some leather lunged sergeant tore a strip off you. You knew that all you had to do was say to hell with it and stand up. They might wash you out, but you wouldn't have to put up with the crap anymore.
But in real battle, it's the experienced smart and lucky that are still standing afterward.
I walked the field with Manda'lor. The losses were heavy. Fifteen of them, some of them no more than boys were dead. I found Davrel by the weapon he had manned, kneeling beside his own vomit, his eyes locked on the body beside him.
"Davrel." He didn't look up. I could hear a keening in his mind. His innocence had been blown to shards with the men he had killed in the minefield. I knelt; turning his head until he was staring in my eyes. "Davrel, it's over. You did well."
"I... I panicked. I saw Sulash laying there, dying. He was my friend! He was..."
"You saw that and you manned your gun. You killed a score of them out there by our count, and it was only after the battle was over that you fell apart." I pulled him to me, and he cried. For his friend, for the dead he had caused, and for all he had lost in that first embrace with death.
Departure
Marai
I went to the repair shop. The Handmaiden joined me. "What are you doing?" She asked me. Bao-Dur, whom I had called, arrived before I could answer.
"What have we here?" He took a loupe, slipped it over his eye, and began looking over each piece with care. "All right, General we have enough parts for two lightsabers."
I looked at him, and the young girl I had taken to train. "This is where it must be your decision, my sister. Will you take up the Jedi's weapon?"
She looked at the fragments sitting on the table. Then at me. There was a firmness that had nothing to do with what she had been taught before. I remembered this time when I was only eleven, a skilled Jedi merely guiding my hands to do what I would do for myself now, what I would guide her to do.
"Lead me, teacher." She said, bowing her head.
"The crystals used by the Jedi are usually divided into three sects. The Consular were always the smallest in number. The ones that went to talk rather than fight, though they were well trained in defense. They had the shades of green. The Sentinels are our watchmen. They guided us in seeking out those that would destroy what we always strove to protect. Then there are the Guardians, the knights and warriors of our kind. They were the ones that put their bodies on the line to protect all peoples." I picked up three crystals. They had once belonged to Lazasar, Rian, and Mach. Of those that had given their lives upon this world, I could think of no better to represent us.
"I am and have always been a warrior my sister. I shall be one again, if I may live up to that charge."
I held up the blue crystal, and told her of Mach, of his cunning, his sense of honor, his willingness to die facing an oppressor. She had tears in her eyes as she accepted the crystal. I chose Karin's violet crystal. Sweet gentle Karin with the soul of a poet, and the heart of a Krayt Dragon. Guide me, my sister now gone. Never let me fail this one I teach.
I lay the parts down in a line. I picked up the housing. "First you must fix the crystal in the emitter matrix, then carefully inset the lens like so... "
