Author's Note: If you have any tips writing tips, please feel free to comment.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

Mandalorian (Mando'a) words

Aruetiise (ah-roo-ay-TEE-say): traitors, foreigners, outsiders

Buy'ce (BOO-chay, BOO-shay): helmet; Colloquially: pint, bucket

Di'kut (DEE-koot): idiot, useless individual, waste of space (lit. someone who forgets to put their pants on)

Hiibir kaysh at haar me'sen (HEE-beer, kaysh, aht, har, mAY-sen): "Take her to the starship"

Ika (EE-kah): diminutive suffix written as 'ika - also added to a name as a very familiar or childhood form, e.g, Ord'ika - Little Ordo

Ner vod (nair-vohd): "my brother/my sister"; colloquially also "my friend"

Ni ven shekemir o'r skotah ca'nar (nee, vehn, SHEH-kay-meer, ohr, SKOH-tah, kah-nar): "I'll meet up with you soon"

Shabla (SHAH-bla): screwed up - impolite

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Chapter 71

...and with a final strike, the knight's sword slain the blood-thirsty beast. News of the victory swept through the village, and the people knew they were safe once again. The king acknowledged the knight's bravery and cunning and allowed his youngest daughter the honor of marrying the knight who had won her heart.

Excerpt from "The Tale of the Blood Beast," from Tochin's Novella of Fable Chronicles

Tochin Moon III, 87 Days after Order 66

Gillard suddenly felt like his world had been drowned in a thick, clear gel. He had heard the blaster bolt, but he could not discern from where it came. 

All he was aware of was how Arlesse now laid on the floor, her body slumped on her side and unmoving. Her hair had fallen around her, some of the locks draped over her cheek, and he couldn't even tell if she was still breathing.

Something cold seeped into Gillard's chest when he realized that her eyes were closed in what looked like a peaceful slumber, and he remembered screaming something about idiots at his stormtroopers, but he had no idea what exactly he had said.

Blinking hard in an effort to see through the invisible haze, he wondered what had happened and how he had so quickly lost control of the situation. 

He slowly turned his gaze between the two stormtroopers that flanked either side of him, aware of how TK-2857 was trying to get his attention. He heard him ask, "Sir?" more than once, but Gillard could not break out of the haze to reply.

He watched as one of his stormtroopers took a blaster bolt to the stomach and another to his chest. Gillard didn't need to be told that the man beneath that armor would never rise again, and he continued to hear his men shouting around him, their words indistinct. 

They yelled in combat terms, something that was more instinctual than understandable. He watched the rest of the stormtroopers move free from their shelters, their intentions to protect him. 

However, their efforts were short-lived as they were quickly struck down by blaster bolts from unknown assailants. It was a confusing display of screams and weapons while Gillard's trained stormtroopers fell to the floor from their various wounds or worse.

Bringing his attention back to Arlesse now, Gillard saw one source of the enemy fire that had cut down so many of his men. The figure had emerged from the same hole in the floor that unearthed Arlesse, and now the armored Mandalorian fired with a precision that Gillard had not even seen his stormtrooper contingent exhibit.

Gillard wasn't sure if he was awed or frightened at the sight of the silver and black-armored warrior, but as the lone figure moved towards Arlesse, the moff reached towards his side to pull his blaster.

His hand, however, never connected as Gillard felt an incredible searing pain rip into his right bicep. Before he could even comprehend what had happened, he found himself on his knees with his free hand clutched to the burn that had consumed his arm.

Gillard spared a moment to look down at the smoking hole in his dark green tunic. He saw that it was no larger than his thumb, and he had never imagined the kind of searing agony that accompanies a blaster wound. 

He suddenly wondered how any man survived being shot, and his curiosity to look at the wound now overrode his thoughts. He pulled back a piece of the burnt sleeve material, cringing at sight of the darkened skin and the reddened burn that surrounded the section of flesh that had been maimed by the blaster bolt.

Hearing the sudden near-silence around him, Gillard brought his eyes from his wound and realized that all of his men had been either severely wounded or killed in a matter of minutes. 

TK-2857 was slumped on the floor next to him trying to lift himself up onto his legs, but his left leg had been blasted to the point that the armor had been destroyed, and his thigh looked worse than Gillard's arm.

Concerned now for Arlesse and what had become of her, Gillard turned his attention there and saw three others had joined the Mandalorian. There was a man dressed in a merchant-like outfit that clearly defined him as someone not of Tochin origin, as his clothing was far finer than any farmer or townsfolk, but it was not nearly as extravagant as the outfit of a nobleman. 

The man's gray tunic and pants were made from high-quality fabric, and his boots were created from dark brown leather. If not for the streaks of dirt and obvious signs that this man had probably crawled through the same underground tunnels that Arlesse had traveled, his outfit would have convinced Harkin that this man was part of the fading nobility on Tochin.

Moving his attention past the offworlder, Gillard focused his eyes on the woman that accompanied the men. 

Her dull orange clothing defined her as one of the working class of the Tochin town; however, as Gillard continued to study her, he slowly recognized the former palace guardian, Chora Wsau. 

At first, he didn't realize who she was without her uniform, but the way she held the blaster in a defensive posture gave him more than enough indication that she was a trained soldier.

Then, Gillard moved his eyes to the one man who had completely betrayed his trust and had planted a twisted message for him earlier in the novel shop. The former clone commander was kneeling beside Arlesse, his hand moving towards her neck as though looking for a pulse.

"What did you do, Tarj?" Gillard growled, as he moved his arm and felt the pain shoot from his bicep to his wrist, and he didn't bother wasting his energy on hiding his agony.

"She was never yours," Tarj replied as he now gently brushed one of those stray curls off Arlesse's face.

"Hiibir kaysh at haar me'sen, ner vod."

Tarj glanced up to Jas' buy'ce and although he could not see his brother's face, there was no mistaking the tone in his words, as he had just asked Tarj to take Les'ika to the ship. When Tarj hesitated for a moment, Jas spoke again to finish his thought and emphasize his directive, by telling him he would meet up with them soon. "Ni ven shekemir o'r skotah ca'nar."

Dusty understood what Jas had wanted to do, and he put a hand on Tarj's shoulder. His voice was quiet so that the Imperials could not hear him but loud enough that those within his immediate range could. "Let Jas have this, ner vod. He needs closure."

Tarj sighed softly, hoping his brother was not about to get himself killed. Then, he eased Les'ika into his arms and carried her unmoving form towards the ship, just as Jas had requested. 

Silently, Dusty and Chora flanked either side of him and guarded him, prepared to kill any of the living stormtroopers that might be stupid enough to fire at him.

Jas started towards the self-proclaimed ruler of Tochin holding the blaster trained on the stormtrooper with the orange pauldron. 

The captain had suddenly torn his damaged helmet off his head, the HUD obviously destroyed in the firefight. His eyes were down on his thigh armor, staring at the way the plastoid plating had melted to his bodysuit.

"Di'kuts only gave you one shabla year of life, only six months of which were probably combat training," Jas grumbled somberly as his eyes took in the slaughter around him. "The Empire's army will be good for nothing."

Gillard kept his eyes on the Mandalorian and tried to reach for a blaster that was near him.

A blue blaster bolt appeared from the Mandalorian's blaster and melted into the weapon, forcing the moff to back his hand quickly away or else receive the same fate as the blaster. 

He looked up to see where the shot had come from when he saw the Mandalorian in the black and silver armor still aiming the blaster in his direction.

"The clone hired a bounty hunter?" Gillard asked, confusion entirely evident.

"No," Jas said and quickly took off his buy'ce now that he was within striking distance of the moff.

Gillard clenched his fists, suddenly realizing who the man before him was. He recognized that this man shared the same facial features as Tarj and all the other clones who had passed through the walls of the palace. 

Gillard knew without having to even question the man that this Mandalorian was the absent adversary who had embedded himself into Arlesse so strongly that he had to fight against her devotion just for one single kiss. And, now this clone had the arrogance to stand before him face-to-face. "Because of you, Arlesse is..."

Jas set the buy'ce on his belt and raised his fist, allowing his punch to land solidly into the moff's jaw to silence whatever Harkin had planned to say. He saw the orange-marked stormtrooper start to raise a blaster towards him, and without pausing, Jas fired twice. 

The first shot disarmed the man. The second struck his wounded thigh, and now the captain let out a groan of anguish as the second blaster bolt further destroyed his already-damaged leg.

Staring down the moff, Jas brought his eyes to his and made his voice quiet but threatening. "She made a choice, one her father approved and one which you had no right to change."

Gillard studied the clone's dark irises, realizing suddenly that the raw devotion that Arlesse had so clearly exhibited for this man was exactly the same that was in his eyes. 

The world Gillard had wished to visit in Arlesse's eyes had been closed off from him because this cloned man's loyalty to Arlesse was the only key that would ever unlock her barriers. 

It was an unparalleled connection that Gillard had never seen before. Their commitment was founded on innocent trust and blind compassion. This clone was Arlesse's champion, a man who honored her and yet was never anything other than her equal.

Gillard felt astounded at the sight of this simple-looking man. Deep in his dark irises rested a child, a child not so unlike Arlesse. 

Similar to the princess, this clone had seen very little of what life could offer. He had spent his early years sheltered from a true existence, and his later ones forced to fight a war that wasn't his. 

Gillard understood now how Arlesse connected to this cloned man. While Arlesse had been similarly sheltered from the galaxy, she was his opposite in that she had been hidden from conflict. 

She was something pure and innocent, an unsullied companion who was untainted by political manipulation. She was someone who didn't see clones or an army. 

She saw human men, and Gillard could only imagine how that would spark emotions in a child princess and a boy clone, neither of which had been exposed to the real galaxy.

"Now, she belongs to no one," Gillard said sadly.

"You have no one to blame but yourself," Jas seethed softly. "She wanted the life you refused to give her."

"As though you would have done better?" Gillard argued. "You weren't meant to live long enough..."

Jas cut off Harkin before he continued. He had spent more than enough time arguing with himself about his short lifespan, but Arlesse had given him hope that she would stay beside him until his end.

"Again, that was not your concern," Jas grumbled. "It was her choice."

Gillard took a breath before making his next argument. "Then, please, let me have the honor of providing proper service to her memory..."

Jas aimed the blaster squarely into the moff's chest, making one final threat. "No. She's with her family now and that's where she will stay. You will not interfere again."

Pushing for answers, Gillard asked one final question. "Where are you taking her?"

"Home." With that, Jas used his free hand to put his buy'ce back on his head. Then, he lowered his arm from Harkin, ignoring any further sputtering the moff was attempting to make. 

Turning his attention instead to the stormtrooper, Jas studied the man who looked so much like him, noting the small subtle differences that proved he was from one of the new cloning facilities. 

Instantly, Jas could see that this trooper had none of the Mandalorian influence and was merely a soldier, a man created without any kind of bond to his brothers. All he knew was to fight, not to compassionately protect his brethren and not to feel any kind of human feelings.

"They called you the Reject Squad because emotions flawed your batch," TK-2857 told Jas, as he sucked in a painful breath.

From under his buy'ce, Jas felt the pity on his face while looking at the injured stormtrooper. "No, aruetiise, emotions made us fierce and independent. And, that's what made us dangerous."

Then, Jas turned towards the Galaar Woor. It was finally time to go home.

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