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

I 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.

Before the prologue begins, I'd like to say that Mandalorian (or Mando'a) words will be used throughout the story and I will be providing definitions to every Mando'a word used in each chapter and every word, for the most part, will be in italics, starting with the prologue. Be advised, I will use some Mando'a words more than once per chapter and I will use other Mando'a words more often than others. 

Mandalorian (Mando'a) words

Fierfek: a Huttese slang word that meant "hex" or "curse," but was commonly accepted to mean "poison" by non-Huttese-speaking races, most commonly Trandoshans. During the Clone Wars, it was adopted by clone commandos as a curse word. Boba Fett and Han Solo would later use it during the Second Galatic Civil War.

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

Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum (Nee soo-COO-yee, gar keer-AH-deesh, nee par-TIE-lee, gar dah-rah-SOOM): "I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal"—Daily remembrance of those passed on, followed by the names of those being remembered  

Shabla (SHAH-bla): screwed up - impolite 

Star Wars Republic Commando: Knight of Honor

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Prologue

I have learned much about these men, born from genetics, not birth mothers. They share emotions and bonds. They are protective of their brethren. They can even be quite charming at times. Each is different in his own way, and each is a unique individual. They should be admired for their bravery and cherished for what is within their hearts. 

 Private communication from Jedi Barriss Offee to Master Luminara Unduli, describing her experiences with the Clone Troopers during her time in the Republic Mobile Surgical Unit 7 (Rimsoo 7) on the planet Drongar

Felucia, 1089 Days ABG

"Execute Order 66."

I turn to my brother, Gath, just to be certain we were issued the appropriate order. He's our voice of reason. He is the one who always protects us. We consider him our unofficial leader. Even he seems taken aback momentarily. None of us had anything against the Jedi.

I know that I shouldn't have hesitated to fire on the Jedi General, but all my life I struggled with thoughts that were considered overly active, even for a commando. I know that as commandos we were bred to have more freedom in our thoughts, but we were also bred to have unquestionable loyalty to orders the Republic Chancellor.

 I begin to silently question Order 66, knowing I should not be allowing my thoughts so much freedom, especially not at this moment. I've seen Jedi fight and bleed right beside us. They followed their orders just as loyally as we did. Could they really have used their mysticism to blind us to their secret plans of overthrowing the Chancellor?

Reining in my thoughts, I steady my DC-17 blaster rifle, taking aim. Suddenly, I'm uncertain of my target. The legions of Separatists droids seem much more threatening. Before I pull the trigger, blaster bolts erupt around us, firing on the Jedi General as he issued an order.

Dusty throws me aside, shoving me into the shadow of an overgrown flowering plant. At that moment,  I'm not sure if he were knocking me down because I hesitated or because he was protecting me from the stray blaster bolts. 

In the close proximity of my brother, I notice that his armor shows evidence of the battle we had just undertaken. The dirt, carbon scoring, and scratches on his breastplate are from the final moment when we still knew who our enemies were while we were taking out the communications tower. 

We both turn at the sound of a heavy thump—the lifeless body of the Jedi falling from the giant mushroom to the damp soil.   

The clones around us continue their orders, seeking out the next Jedi. In the controlled confusion, we realized our long-awaited opportunity had arrived.

We had been told that if we wanted to bang out of the GAR, there would be only one way out. Now, all we had to do was find transport to the rendezvous point.

They delivered the message in clear Mando'a, and we knew they would not lead us astray. It was these new clones. They knew nothing of our language or our true origins as Mandalorians.

  As I stood, one of the new clone troopers aimed his DC-15 at my chest.  

"You hesitated on an order,"  he accuses.

'Shab!' I think silently, 'Was it that obvious?'

As blaster fire erupts between us, I expect pain, even death. As the ozone wafts between us from the Tibanna gas discharge, I am shocked when my opponent crumples upon himself, falling to the ground.  Gath still brandishes his smoking blaster at the lifeless trooper. Unlike them, we protect our brothers.  

"Traitors!" one of the other clones yells as he rallies his squad.

"Fierfek!" Gath grumbles.

 Survival instincts take over. Dusty, Gath, and I disappear into the shadows, Deeces at the ready. We don't even bother to turn around, certain the other clones are firing at us. The carbon scoring marks on the ground near our feet and on the giant botany by our heads are proof enough.

"Where's Mouse?" I ask, realizing I had lost track of a brother during the eruption of Order 66.

Gath panted as he scanned the area for cover. "The Padawan panicked."  

Ducking behind a fallen stalk that's full of dying vegetation, I take shots needing to release my anger at the shabla mess of everything. I lose count after the first half-dozen dropped, as a sea of white armor and red blaster bolts engulf us.

 I struggle as a brother drags me into the thick vegetation of the Felucian landscape. As Dusty is too busy covering our position, I crane my neck to identify the helmet marks on the clone dragging me into the jungle.

Gath slams my helmet against an adamantine stalk. "Ner vod, Mouse is gone, but we have to get to that RV point. Now, lock it down."

'Fierfek! What the hell was I thinking?'

"We need to move, now!" Dusty shouts, while Gath launches a thermal detonator into the forest, trying to slow down another wave of clones. 

Once more, we're dashing through the vegetation, using the shadows and greenery for cover.  

Firing back into the plants, I hear another clone drop. Dusty widens the distance between them and us. After Dusty launches, another thermal detonator, huge chunks of soil and plants pellet our armor as we escape deeper into the jungle. 

In moments, this has become our own personal civil war. If those clones we are killing had been raised on Kamino with us, or even if they had been given a link to their heritage, I might feel remorse. However, since they do not acknowledge us as brothers any more than they consider themselves brothers, remorse is fleeting.

"Thirty feet out!" Dusty calls with unmistakable relief.  

Before us a small transport awaits. The basic, four-many ship boasted a small cargo hold, large enough for carrying a few days' supplies. While modest in appearance, it is more than adequate to ferry us to the RV point. Then, we'll be free. 

After Dusty enters our override codes with hasty punches, the hatch opens with a welcoming hiss. Abruptly, Dusty drops in the entrance as a blaster bolt hit his knee. I pull him to safety, keeping him covered from the incoming blasts.

Raising my Deece, I try to fire around the native Felucians who are confused as to who are their enemies now. While fleeing from our own army, we forgot about the people we had been protecting.

Without warning, the Felucians drop. When the clones chasing after us caught up to the airfield, they blindly blast the Felucians, not caring who is in their crossfire.

"Get him inside. I'll cover you," Gath orders.

I grab Dusty and drag him up the ramp. With the Deece in his hands, Dusty fires at the clones and the Felucians. He couldn't care less who he's hitting now. He just wants a few more kills. Now it's his turn to avenge Mouse, and he's doing what he can to help Gath. 

When we are halfway up the ramp, blaster fire pelts Gath's armor, sending him to his knees. Another thermal detonator explodes in the field, dwindling his supply further. After shoving Dusty into the craft, I head back down. I have to get Gath. There's no question about that. 

He yells over my helmet speaker, "Your girl's waiting for you, ner vod. This is your only opportunity to bang out! Don't regret it. Now, get the hell out of here!"

Even though he wants me to leave him behind, I can't. He's our brother. He's always taken care of us. "Close that ramp," Gath says, his voice angry at my refusing his orders. He pauses to look up at me one last time.

The blue visor of his helmet stares at me, and I'm suddenly angry that I'm denied the honor of seeing my brother's face. Not accepting his sacrifice, I strain for his shoulder, my fingers scrabbling on his shoulder armor. If he stands, I can reach it. My hand stretches down the ramp. and my fingers scrabble on his shoulder armor.

"Jas," he mumbles as he tilts his helmet. "Go."

That single, quiet order means everything to me. Turning from my brother, I slam the hatch shut. 

Dusty stares at me as he limps towards the cockpit. "Where's Gath?" he asks as he shuffles to catch up to me.

Ignoring the question, I settle into the pilot's chair and hurry through the take-off checklist. After the engines turn over and the repulsors kick in, the craft gently lifts off from Felucia.

Dusty doesn't ask me again about Gath. He's smart like that, and he's figured it out already. Gath is going to keep them distracted long enough for us to get into the atmosphere.

As we lift off, we both monitor Gath's frequency, hoping he'll survive. As I program the coordinates into the navicomputer, I realize I'm operating under my own personal autopilot program. It's the only way we're going to get free from Felucia and the clones who seem to have turned on everyone. 

Gath's breathing and the firefight we left him in are the only sounds we hear for an eternity of seconds. Like a switch flicking off, empty static fills our helmets. I rip off my bucket, throwing it down the corridor.  I notice that the kriffin' piece of equipment didn't scratch or dent.

Dusty sits in the co-pilot seat with his helmet in his lap. As he hangs his head in grief, I realize I am too restless to grieve.

Because neither of us can concentrate on the atmosphere approaching us, I let the navacomputer handle it. We're on our way to the RV point without Mouse and without Gath. Without their sacrifices, we wouldn't be here now.

"Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc ni partayli, gar darasuum, Gath and Mouse," Dusty whispers. We both know what it means: "I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal." And now that Dusty said to, he has to repeat it every day until he dies. It's what Mandalorians do, and it's who we are. Unlike everyone else, though, we got the short end of the deal with our lives.

Choking back the anger and agony, I decide there's nothing more I can do. I take the same vow, needing to remember them forever. As our brothers, Gath and Mouse deserve nothing less. 

  "Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc ni partayli, gar darasuum, Gath and Mouse."  

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