Aaron LightBlade, General of the Republic, Verse I

One year ago...

Normally, it would not have been a choice the General or Aaron would have made, but Canderous had made an impression on him and, as such, had convinced him of the advantages and squelched the perceived disadvantages.

When he had brought That Woman aboard, he had known that she was different, but he had been unaware of just how different. For starters, she looked more like a hodge podge of weapons and armor than a warrior or bodyguard. Secondly, she was a stunningly beautiful woman that Aaron had taken to immediately and had been dissuaded of just as quickly. It wasn't that she didn't appear interested, but she preferred to deal in business first and pleasure last. Credits. So she said, you had to eat before you could play and she had obviously missed a meal or two in the last few years since the Mandalorian War had ended. It had not been a popular decision for him, among the crew or in the Council, but he slept better now.

On that particular day it had been particularly trying for General Lightblade and he wanted nothing more than a good night's rest and to put it all behind him. He had started the day with a room full of Senators and Ambassadors telling him, of all people, how they felt the war should progress. Surprisingly, his biggest opponent had been Ambassador Kerana from Alderaan. Of them all, she had fought the hardest, spouting off about the inhumanities of the war and how they could not propagate the wholesale slaughter of their enemies, thus becoming just like them. Aaron had had to admit that the woman had fooled him, particularly since they had been lovers for the last few months and she had never indicated that she had a dissenting opinion about the war. He had made a note not to resume that relationship. Even so, it had taken no less than his offer to resign so that they could run the war to quiet them and had ended more or less peacefully what was turning into a war of its own.

After the meeting, he hadn't made it ten feet from the hall until he was assailed again. One after another, he had quieted this fear or that, made one decision after another from where to go next to what to serve in the mess hall and was winding down when Canderous had cornered him in his office. He had been unable to forget how the man had been after him about his own personal safety, Aaron finally deciding to meet whomever Canderous was pushing off on him. When the obviously female person had walked into the room and the door had closed behind her, he was sure that he had gawked as the helmet came off.

Recovering himself, he said, 'You're hired,' but it hadn't been that easy.

Canderous and Calia Fett, as she was introduced, had been more interested in the price, or more precisely how high they could raise it. Dispassionately, the beauty beneath the helm had met his eyes without flinching and Canderous had went on to describe her attributes, abilities, and her merits, crowing like a rooster to convince him.

Slicing his hand through the air, he had cut Canderous' ejaculations off and named a price that was unusually high, but affordable for him based on what he had saved during the Star Forge incident and what he made as a General. He was inwardly satisfied at the widening of the woman's eyes before she hid it beneath an impassive mask and congratulated himself on besting the two before suppressing the flash of pride that he knew was inappropriate. Sealing the agreement with only their word, Canderous had dismissed the woman and escorted Aaron in the direction of his quarters, never letting up about the decision.

'Trust me, Revan, you won't regret this. What man could ask for more than a Mandalorian guard, particularly one as beautiful as Calia.'

Annoyed, Aaron said, 'I told you to stop calling me Revan.'

'Revan, Aaron, you've still made the right decision. And did you notice how beautiful she was? She is a strong woman, a capable warrior, and worthy to be the mate of any Mandalorian man...or one who has earned their respect.'

'Why don't you marry her?'

'Wouldn't be appropriate. She's your woman now.'

'Pardon?'

Canderous' eyes danced. 'She has given you her word of honor to be yours. It wouldn't be a far cry for that to be more than just a bodyguard. Maybe a companion...or wife. Any Mandalorian woman would be honored to be mated to THE Revan!'

Aaron stopped and faced Canderous. 'Are you telling me that you set me up on a...date to find a wife?!'

Canderous held up his hands. 'Of course not, Re...Aaron. I was only stating that you would be foolish not to consider it.'

'You're a pig, Canderous.'

'Of course, General. I'm a Mandalorian...with a good eye for women. We take our women and prove our worth. Simply, you have nothing to prove and Calia is a Fett, after all.'

Shaking his head, Aaron lamented, 'Why is it that everyone has my best interests in mind and don't even know what they are? My diaper doesn't need changing, Canderous, and I certainly don't need help finding...a date.'

'Of course not, Aaron. Your reputation is well known on the Reclaimer and...'

'Canderous!'

'...well? It is not, General?'

Suddenly, Aaron's lightsabers flashed to his hands and ignited as he suddenly found himself surrounded by a dozen individuals, all in armor and sporting deadly looking blaster rifles and pistols. To him, this seemed to be just another in a series of assassination attempts on his life. They just kept slipping through.

As he appraised the group in their rag tag armor and their rag tag weapons, all motley but in good shape, Canderous had stepped in front of him and gingerly taken his wrists, guiding the lightsabers away from himself, explaining about Mandalore's Valkyr and how seriously they took their vow. Lowering the lightsabers, he had them line up against the wall, all in armor and helmets so that none of their faces were showing, and performed an informal inspection on the spot. Noting the quality of care but motley appearance, he stopped in front of Calia and took out his personal datapad and entered some notes. Handing it to her, he said, 'Don't come into my presence again until this is complete. Until then, forget our deal. If you're going to guard me, I intend to prepare you to the best of my ability. Understood?'

Looking down, he was unsure of her reaction, but the tinted visor met his eyes and she nodded, once, before dismissing her troops in a mechanical voice that was enhanced by the helmets own com.

They marched off, not looking back. He hadn't seen them again until four days later when he had been asked to come to the docking bay. He saw the fruits of his labors and realized that he had created the most deadly, fearsome, and intimidating force he could think of, and that was before they actually fired a shot. The way he figured it, if he were attacked from this day forward, half of his assailants would run in fear just from the awe that his new guard would inspire. With the exception of the rank on their collars and some small differences in height, they all wore the resplendent, glistening armor of Cassus Fett. With polished boots, shiny breastplates, and well-oiled and cleaned weapons, he was sure that they would be difficult to defeat or intimidate. With a grin, he had inspected them again, stopping in front of Captain Fett to nod his approval. Again, he received that single nod, the volumes it spoke impacting his psyche to the point that he felt respect for his new soldiers.

In that same, atonal, mechanical voice, she asked, 'May we resume our duties, General?'

'Please do, but don't get underfoot.'

'Begging the General's pardon, but you fight the war and I'll do my job as I see fit. If I have to get underfoot, I will.'

'And if I order you otherwise?'

'Then the General will have to deal. You command. I see that you aren't interrupted.' He heard the pause, but knew it wasn't out of disrespect so much as out of her dedication to duty and to make a point. 'Sir.'

'Right. Got it. I'll do my job and you'll do yours. Keep it low profile...like you won't attract as much attention as a rampaging Bantha in that getup.'

'Your choice, sir.' Turning the visored helm to her right, she spoke in a flat voice and eight members fell out and started recovering the remaining equipment unnecessary to their on-ship mission while three fell in on him. Looking back at Aaron, she said, 'If you wish to return to your duties, sir, we'll take our posts and make sure you aren't bothered by...flotsam.'

'Fair enough, Captain. Fair enough.'

Taking in his guard of four, he turned on his heel and headed to the bridge. Before he had made it far, he recalled one thing and noticed another; for one, the Valkyrs had an uncanny knack for anticipating what he was going to do and where he was going to go. En route to the bridge, it had occurred to him that he needed something from his quarters and, no sooner than he had the thought, the guard in front of him, two in front and two behind, Calia on his left and behind, had turned down a hallway that would lead him to his quarters and then to the bridge. Taking the Force into account, he imagined it could be that they were just that good, they could read minds or were highly empathic, or there was a Force Sensitive among them that hid it well. Whatever the case, he couldn't say as he minded. It made things easier. The second was that he had never seen them without armor or helmets outside of a private meeting, the first and only he had, and they hadn't offered to remove them otherwise.

Later down the road, whether on the Ebon Hawk or the Galaxy Tiger, they had removed them when there was no one to see and he had noted and remarked on their beauty, much to Calia's pleasure or irritation, depending on her mood, but they never did so outside the confines of their quarters, his office, or his own quarters. At some point, he would investigate, but that was for another day.

As for the crew of the Reclaimer, they learned quickly enough to ignore or avoid his new guard and he soon found that they somehow managed to blend in, even in their glistening and well cared for armor. For Aaron, it became rote, but the Valkyrs did manage to surprise him very soon thereafter, and many times since.

Exactly one week from the day he had first seen them in the docking bay in their new armor, he had retired to his quarters early after a particularly trying day.

Sitting in a chair at a low table in his antechamber, he looked to the door as the chime sounded. Granting permission to enter, he watched as one of his Valkyrs, he thought of them as his own now, which pleased them for some reason, entered with a small sack, rifle slung over her back and pistols ensconced in their holsters. Outside, he caught sight of the two that guarded his door day in and day out before the doors closed and his guest stopped, awaiting his permission to address him. Noting the rank on the collar, he knew it was Calia, minus the single rocket they often carried in the launcher on their backs, even aboard ship, and sat back in his chair as he wondered what she might want. It wasn't their habit to disturb him. Whether he had guests or not didn't seem to matter. They just seemed to know.

'Yes?'

Reaching up, she took the chin of her helmet and pulled it from her head, shaking her hair out as she did so.

Calia had long, auburn hair and high cheekbones, full, red lips, and bright blue eyes. She had a delicate chin and a long slender neck and, if the armor were any clue, soft curves with a full chest and hips, slender waist, and long, shapely legs. Of that, he could only guess since he had only seen her in armor. To him, he couldn't help thinking of Bastila when he saw her, but he never made the comparison out loud. For some reason, he knew it would be the wrong thing to say. Raising an eyebrow quizzically, he waited for her to broach whatever subject she had come for.

He didn't wait long. Reaching into the bag, she started removing the contents even as she spoke, placing a bottle on the table with two tumblers. 'Your reputation is well known, General. I know two things that rank high on your list of enjoyments, particularly after a trying day.' She arched an eyebrow at him to gauge his response before continuing. 'It is known that you like a fine Tarisian Ale, chilled to a few degrees above freezing, and that you like a beautiful woman to drink it with. Am I correct?'

His mouth quirked in a smile. 'Yes, that is true. I guess I shouldn't be so predictable.'

'Yes, it would be helpful.' She said dryly. 'And as the Valkyr ladies have informed me, you have had a particularly trying day. I would like to offer you this, the best Tarisian Ale we own amongst us, and would offer myself to enjoy it with you. I am, after all, a beautiful woman and find you pleasing, worthy of Mandalore himself.'

Aaron was shocked and surprised by the compliment. Not knowing how to respond, and not questioning her obvious confidence in her looks, he responded with the only thing that came to mind. 'Thank you. I take that as a great compliment. An honor.'

'As well you should. It is customary that you invite guests to make themselves comfortable. If you prefer someone else, perhaps I could summon Mission or Juhani. Adria is not available, but there are quite a few pretty officers, women, that you might find...enjoyable.'

Aaron looked at her in confusion. 'Is this a test? I'm not sure what to say or how to proceed. You certainly seem very...matter-of-fact.'

Again, she arched her eyebrow at him, a trait he found very charming at the moment, but she didn't allow him to dwell on it. 'To be blunt, the Valkyrs have had a difficult time and were lucky to happen on this opportunity. I simply wish to see you relaxed and comfortable when things grow trying. If you prefer that I leave...'

Quickly, he said, 'No! No, please, make yourself comfortable. Have a seat.'

She hesitated a moment and then replied, 'Shall I sit or shall I make myself...comfortable?'

'You know, I'm not sure how to answer. To seem so simple, this has become very complicated. Sure, make yourself comfortable. Shall I pour?'

He caught the slightest smile from her, almost a grin. 'Please do.' As he did, she set about making herself comfortable.

Aaron was not one to complain, but he was surprised at what she did next. Taking her helmet and placing it to the side, she reached up and unclasped her breastplate, working her way down her legs, to her boots, and so on until she had made a neat pile beside the table. Almost reverently, she set each piece in the corner until she had a nice stack, placing the helmet last, and said a small benediction, a seeming prayer over the armor. When she was done, she wore very little in the way of clothing, undergarments really, as she walked over to where he sat, folding herself into a sitting position on the floor. With her feet drawn up to her and her knees crooked, he looked at her in amazement and wonder, his imagination nowhere near the reality now that he saw her nearly undressed right before him. As Revan, he had seduced or forced many women and as Aaron he had been proficient as he had tried to bury his feelings for Bastila, but rarely did he have the opportunity to behold one such as she. Adria fit the bill and Mission had potential, but looking at her as she was, Calia Fett took his breath away. Handing her the drink, he sipped his own silently as the woman met his eyes boldly from where she sat.

Together, Calia and Aaron drank half the bottle of Tarisian Ale, the conversation light, he mostly telling her of the kind of day he had. She sympathized in the right places, soothed where needed, and offered to relieve him of future problems from one person or another. He declined with laughter that she joined him in. Overall, by the time they wound down and sat in silence, the hour was late and they were both near drunk from the Ale and the atmosphere.

Aaron explored Calia openly with his eyes and imagined, through the haze, that she did the same with him. When she spoke, she surprised him not so much with what she said, but of how long their enduring, and comfortable, silence had been.

'You are an interesting man, General. A very interesting man.' She paused as she looked at him openly. 'Boldness is a trait of Mandalorians and I am one of the boldest. I would very much like to share your bed this evening. Yes, very much.'

Before he could reply or object, Calia unfolded herself from the floor and stood up, walking to the door of his bedchamber and looking over her shoulder. He took in the curve of her shoulders, the musculature of her back, and the grace with which she moved. Watching her, he was able to confirm the well-rounded chest, slim waist, flaring hips and long, slender but shapely legs. Without hesitation, she entered into the darkness and disappeared from sight, the slightest noise of weight from the bed as he still sat in the chair. For just a moment, his thoughts roiled within him, but he quieted them as he stood, picking up the bottle and tumblers and walked to the door and entered his own private sanctum.

When he reached the bed, he found her willing and enthusiastic and had fallen asleep, eventually, with her cradled in his arms. He hadn't missed the fact that her blaster belt and pistols had been within easy reach on the headboard.

In the morning, she sent him off with a promise to be at her post promptly at the noon strike and thanked him, warmly, for a wonderful evening. It wasn't the last time that Calia shared an evening with him, the Valkyrs' and Calia's interests revealing that they were not only interested in his protection, but his wellbeing also. When Mission or Juhani or someone else appeared at his door, they said nothing nor intimated anything, but comfortably, they resumed their posts and made sure he was well. And as often happened, even when the encounter wasn't intended as sexual, Aaron rarely slept alone after that first night, one of the Valkyrs often snuggling into his arms or curling him into their own when he drifted off to sleep, pistols always within easy reach. When questioned about this, Calia said little of substance and Canderous downright avoided the subject, but Aaron didn't object. It seemed to be what they wanted. He had decided that arguing with Calia about how the women of her squad performed their duties wasn't worth the fight to know or to change them, and he didn't really want them to.

When he thanked Canderous after a few weeks, it was with a trip to Coruscant and the credits to spend, something the Mandalorian would understand more so than a simple thank you or show of emotion. When it came time to board the Galaxy Tiger, he did so with confidence that when all was said and done, if the mission failed, it would not be because of a lack on the part of Mandalore's Valkyrs.

General Aaron LightBlade strode through the halls of the Reclaimer, the Republic's flagship, en route to the docking bay. He had been patient enough and wanted an end to the mystery that had plagued him long enough, that of Bastila's disappearance. Around him marched twelve elite guards, his second matching him stride for stride as he issued orders for the final assault on the Sith's last bastion of resistance, Yavin IV. He knew that General Marcus Desada was fully capable of resolving this final conflict, but since he had relieved Admiral Forn Dodonna of her position as Admiral of the Fleet after the Star Forge, it seemed that nothing less would do than for General Lightblade, Revan, to be in charge. Still, he was now the General of the Fleets, giving him control of both the space and ground forces and, as such, he could command what he would when he would and the people around him would do it. Right now, he was going after Bastila and no objection General Desada could voice or any order from the Jedi Council was going to stop him. He was certain that the Force was guiding him, damn what the Fleet or the Council wanted. He didn't care what it cost him, plenty no doubt, but he was leaving. Now.

He was in knots over the visions he had been experiencing; Bastila turned again, Adria standing by and doing nothing, a Family, or some such, taking control of their destinies, and the potential disaster that could face them at Yavin, great General or not, if Bastila were not there to assure victory. He was concerned about her and what she had run from, or been pulled away by, the rest was just as important, but with no word from the Hawk or Adria, he had no choice but to pursue this on his own.

As he walked through the bay doors and towards the Galaxy Tiger, sister ship to the Ebon Hawk, he completed his orders to Desada with half a mind. To him, it was simple strategy and to the Jedi Council and his Corps of Generals and Admirals, sheer brilliance, but he dismissed that as soon as the thought occurred. Basically, the plan was to assemble three large fleets in three sectors with three others in three more as reserves, then to jump into the Yavin Ring all at once. With three full fleets on watch and three in the main battle cutting off all escape routes, any Sith, whether newly arisen Masters or all of the Dark Jedi and Apprentices, would prove easy to pick off or capture, in addition to decimating the remaining fleets. Simple. Unfortunately, they felt he needed to be there to oversee every aspect or the plan would fail. It was frustrating for him, General Desada, who had never argued with him before vehemently opposing him on this course of action, acting as if he was not qualified to lead the Fleet in Aaron's absence. And the Jedi Council with their orders to proceed to Yavin and telling him how the Force was clouded and that this was how he had been led down the Dark Path before. Gritting his teeth in exasperation, Aaron had calmly explained that the Force was perfectly clear to him, to no avail. And when they overrode him after he explained that Bastila had to be at Yavin, they had brushed him off like he was a green Padawan.

Looking around, he took in the guard that surrounded him, not a more unpopular group on the entire ship. To a man, or woman he corrected, they all had three things in common; they were all beautiful, all women, and deadly Mandalorians. Any one of them would have commanded respect or fear, but together they managed to spawn hatred and jealousy also, to a degree.

Stopping at the base of the loading ramp of the Galaxy Tiger, Aaron turned to Desada and asked, 'Was I clear enough about what I want done until I return, General?'

Desada snapped to attention, annoying Aaron just a bit. 'Yes sir! I will see to everything you have ordered, sir. Will there be anything else?'

Aaron met the visored gaze of Calia and acknowledged the slight nod with his eyes as he responded. 'No, nothing else. Be ready when I return. If I'm not back in two months, start without me. I'll be back with Bastila and we'll end this and then we can all take a long vacation.'

'Yes, sir! A vacation will hit the spot, sir.' Six of the Mandalorians were already up the ramp and on the ship securing it before he even set foot aboard.

'Glad to hear it, Marcus. Carry on and I'll be back.' Softening a bit, Aaron said, 'I understand your concerns, Marcus, but I'll be back. Don't worry. I hand picked you, remember? The most brilliant cadet to graduate the academy in fifty years?' Pausing, he said, 'I knew you before...'

Desada lowered his eyes in embarrassment. Looking back at Aaron, he said quietly, 'And I was thankful for your help then, too...Aaron. Don't make me regret listening to you twice. I could inform the Council.'

'But you won't.'

'Yeah. But I won't. Come back, General.'

'One minute I'm a General, the next I'm Aaron. Make a choice.' Aaron cracked a smile, but didn't let it bloom.

Desada buried his grin as he snapped to attention and saluted Aaron. 'Yes sir, General! I will see to your preparations!'

Irritated, Aaron returned the salute. 'See that you do, Marcus. Everything will be alright.'

'As you say, General. As you say.'

Without further comment, Aaron turned and walked up the boarding ramp.

Coruscant...Six Months Ago...

Aaron stood at the edge of the chasm, both physically and emotionally. Looking down, he gazed into the depths of the opening in front of him, a huge square cut out of the surface of the Upper City, Coruscant built layer upon layer until any hint of the surface had long ago disappeared. He had heard the stories of what now existed in the Lower City, everything from the gangs to the sins one generation of dwellers visited upon another, but he had never felt compelled to investigate for himself. It seemed that something bigger always confronted him that was greater than what could be suffered below. He felt it a shame, but for now, there was no help for it. He had bigger bantha to fry.

Losing himself to the darkness so far below, Aaron let his sense explore, finding no answer to the multitude of questions he had about himself, Bastila, Adria, and so many other things. He had left the Council earlier, his report delivered and the subject having turned to that thing that it always did. Even now, it rang in his ears.

'Passion is your guide, General LightBlade...not the Force.'

Pursing his lips, Aaron spoke calmly. 'So I have been told, Master.'

'Listen you don't. Yearn, you do.'

Again, he spoke calmly. 'Love is powerful, Master Vandar. Much to the chagrin of the Council, I remember, both as Revan and as Aaron. You do not acknowledge that which is obvious, even as it is...distasteful to you.'

'You judge without wisdom, Knight!'

'The wisdom of the Force is my guide, Master.'

'Masterhood you are not ready for, Knight Aaron.'

Aaron did not respond with, 'Because you think me a threat still, Master.' But he thought it. Remembering as Revan and Aaron, he knew that Revan would have been a Master long ago. As Aaron, he knew that he suffered those sins to this day. As always, the Council was slow to act, their wisdom unquestionable among the Jedi and Aaron wouldn't dispute them. Master, Knight, or Padawan, he knew where he genuinely stood. Where the Force was concerned, he knew his true guide and where wisdom truly lay.

Standing in the shadow of the Jedi Enclave, its shadow cast across him, he felt that oppressing weight as if it were a star cruiser. Recalling the encounter over and over, he hadn't detected the movements of the shadows, hadn't seen that which had been observed for many more moments than he had stood here. He hadn't even reacted until the second shot.

That was certain death. Canderous made a wise decision.

Aaron spun as his lightsabers snapped into existence. Reflexively, he threw himself to the side as the Force Lightning washed over the rail where he had stood. Rolling to his feet, he had time to take in the fallen form of the Sith, its lightsaber extinguished in a limp hand, another that had been pinned to a wall with the wrist darts carried by the Valkyrs. It was all he had time to see before he was under assault, two more of the Sith Jedi leaping at him, lightstaff and saber burning red in his vision as he parried and backpedaled in defense.

Aprbi Tedal and Saebi Cocha were his guards on this day and of that he was glad.

As Aaron slid away from his assailants, Aprbi turned her attention to her third target. Of the first two, she had reacted before they had moved, her blaster pistols snapping into her hands an instant before Saebi had moved, her first blast penetrating the Sith's eye before Saebi's blaster had zeroed in on her first target. As Saebi pulled the trigger, Aprbi spun and snapped her forearm forward, two of the deadly wrist darts flying out and pinning a second Sith against the wall, very little blood trickling from the wounds where they had penetrated his throat. Spinning again, she had managed to lash out with a kick into the chest of her third assailant as he descended from his Force Leap, lightsaber held high for a downward stroke, her kick snapping his head back as he slammed into the plascrete surface of the Coruscant street. As he did, the lightsaber skittered down the shoulder of her Mandalorian armor, the resistant material slowing, but not stopping the slash, she spinning away in pain as the blade lanced into her flesh. Following through, Aprbi brought her left hand blaster to bear and began squeezing off shots in quick succession, emptying the weapon into the prone Sith before he could move to defend himself. No sooner hand the weapon emptied than she had it holstered and was reaching for the vibro-knife sheathed at her waist, bringing her other blaster to bear on another target.

Hearing Aprbi firing and moving, Saebi allowed that she had things under control on her end. Squeezing the trigger of her high-powered rifle, Saebi lay down a relentless field of fire, catching two Sith squarely in the chest even as two other closed, deflecting away the bolts that filled the air. As she continued to fire, she dropped one hand from the rifle to her belt, snapping off a Thermal Detonator and rolling it between the two approaching Sith. As she had anticipated, one of the Sith leisurely snatched up the device with Dark Force to fling it at her. Screaming, 'Grenade!' she took precise aim and snapped off a shot cleanly into the center of the detonator, throwing herself to the side even as Aprbi slid by her on the ground, their tandem acrobatics throwing them clear. The Sith had not been so lucky, the explosion throwing them to either side, their robes bursting into flames as they landed several meters apart in charred heaps.

Standing back to back, they searched their fields of view for additional targets, Aprbi's eyes landing squarely on Aaron as he fended off the two Masters that were assaulting him. Muttering a rich Madalorian curse under her breath, she followed with, 'Take them.'

Before the words had fully left her mouth, simultaneous bolts rang through the air over her head, Saebi in a position to see Bobba and Adabu, their sniper rifles trained from an adjoining balcony, they backing their comrades in the most direct way.

Parrying the two Sith, Aaron managed to lock their blades together, his senses detecting the summoning of the Dark Side even as he gathered his own energies. Even as he pressed the blades way, preparing to strike, he felt his assailants go limp and fall away, their blades dying as they fell, he left standing over their two bodies. Looking up in surprise, he noted the Valkyrs on the balcony and on the ground scanning the area for other enemies, their guard never dropping as they moved into a protective posture around him, Bobba and Adabu covering their retreat.

As they hurried him along, he looked down at Aprbi and said, 'You're quick. Ever thought of becoming a Jedi?'

Without looking at him, she said, 'Yes, but I didn't want to lose my edge.'

Over the radio, he could hear Bobba chuckling as she said, 'Yeah, that and she can shoot better than you can swing those fancy light sticks, Chief.'

At that time, Aaron was in no mood to disagree.

As the ship pulled out of the dock, Aaron smiled to himself as the helmets came off and the women spread out over the ship, some finding corners to play Pazaak, others looking to rest or find other distractions, but four still with him, even now, on the bridge of the Galaxy Tiger, Calia among them. When he gave her the coordinates that he wanted her to set course for, she had not commented, but her look had said volumes. The destination was another twenty-four parsecs from where he had sent Canderous, and forty-eight from where Adria had gone. Punching in the grid, she set the ship's nose in the right direction and calculated the jump. Aaron stayed on the bridge until they made the jump to hyperspace and into a void where nothing should have been. Wanting to forget the Force that guided him for just a bit, he left the bridge, two of the women taking his and Calia's places as he marched off down the corridor in search of his own distractions. This would be a long trip, but if he was sure of nothing else, including the future, he knew that the Valkyrs would provide more distraction that one man could handle, as Calia attempted to prove.

Three Months Prior...

Aaron stood naked and stared out at the streamers of hyperspace as they traveled to their next destination. Their intelligence led them far astray, but Aaron confirmed that it was solid and the need undeniable.

Behind him, he heard Calia stir in his bed, his absence alerting her even in sleep that all was not right in the universe.

Huskily, she said, 'Is everything well, General?'

'Aaron.'

'Very well. Is everything well...Aaron?'

'Yes. No. I don't know.'

She didn't reply. Instead, he heard the bed shift as she stood, walking over to stand against his back and look over his shoulder. Quietly, she said, 'Tell me.'

For several minutes they stood together quietly before Aaron disengaged himself and turned to her, taking her by the waist and pulling her close. When she raised her face for a kiss, he didn't resist, but lowered his lips to her own and kissed her, lightly but with a great deal of feeling. When he broke the kiss, he looked at her and she knew that something was amiss.

Without preamble, he said, 'I don't understand what is going on with us.'

Crooking her head, she said, 'I wasn't aware anything was. We're bed partners. You've never expressed any other interest. I am your guard and you lead the Republic. You seek my solace as none other is available...that you would take advantage of.'

Irritably, Aaron released her and turned back to the window, leaving her cold, she again pressing herself to his back. With a sigh, he said, 'I think it was a bad idea to become lovers.'

'Why.'

He sighed again. 'Why? Because it is dishonest. To you. To Bastila. To me.' Turning back to her, he took her in his arms and steeled himself for what he was about to say. 'You remind me of her. Period. I miss her and I took you as a lover when you offered and it...pains me...for my betrayal to her and my betrayal to you. It's...dishonest.'

Calia lowered her eyes from Aaron's. Softly, she said, 'I know. I know that I reminded you...that your focus would be lost without her, but...' Looking him in the eye, she said, 'I did what I wanted and guard you as I will. It is not your decision...General. Do not question my methods.' She said the last coldly.

Without another word, Calia broke away from him and began to dress in her armor, Aaron quiet as she did. When she was fully dressed, her helmet in place, she started for the door of the bedchamber, but stopped.

Looking at him, that mechanical voice rolled towards him as she said, 'I have made my choice in the way I guard you. I guard your body, your mind...and your heart. Mandalorians are different, General...Aaron. We will not speak of this again. My mission will not fail.' Without further word, Calia turned and left.

Turning back to the bay window, Aaron stared into space, all concentration gone.

Aaron sat on the floor of the crew quarters, shirtless, wearing only his uniform pants. He leaned against the bulkhead of the ship, tossing credit chits at an overturned helmet at his feet. Antab lay on the bunk, her armor stripped off and her jumpsuit, neatly folded, lying on the floor beside her. Piled on top were her blaster rifle and her pistols, all within easy reach, as usual. Also, as usual, she wore the filmy undergarment that he had come to associate with the Valkyrs when they chose to reveal anything other than their own Fett armor to any who would be so lucky to see it. As far as he knew, he was the only one on the Justice who had, so far.

Standing near the hallway opening into the crew bay, two of the other Valkyrs stood easily, with their helmets hung at their belt and their rifles slung, but still letting their hands rest warily near their blasters. Even inside the quiet confines of the Galaxy Tiger in hyperspace, the ladies, his ladies, never let their guard waver and, even had he and Antab sought the private moments she was hinting at, they would have only stepped outside the actual crew quarters to grant them that privacy. He was tempted, regardless of what had gone before, but his feeling of uneasiness from his latest visions had not ebbed and he had very little appetite for anything, or anyone, including the sultry woman displayed before him.

Mandalore's Valkyr had presented quite a conundrum to Aaron. As far as he commanded, he had not controlled a more thorough or professional group of soldiers, now or as Revan. Within their ranks, they were very tight-knit and tight-lipped when it came to how they came to be or what goal they sought to achieve. Even with all of his powers of persuasion, shy of dominating one of them, something that would have certainly earned him their enmity and a blaster shot, he had pried when he could, asked when he couldn't, and was only sure of two things. When Calia gave her word, the Valkyrs heeded it to the letter and spirit of the law and that he was the safest man alive or dead while they were on duty.

He was certain that they would not be able to stop an all out Sith assault from the various battle cruisers and that numbers might overwhelm them, but he knew that before he died, they would exhaust every possible avenue to ensure he lived and would die to a woman before he perished.

Of them all, he found it hard to develop or find a favorite, shy of Calia herself. Calia Fett presented him with her own mysteries, but she shared his bed freely when he allowed her to and could be as soft in private as she was hard and intimidating in public. Tough and very much a leader, Calia held her own passions in check when the mission called for it, but let them loose when she knew there were Valkyrs there to allow for it. As for the others, they fell into several categories, some of which he didn't approve, but refused to judge at the same time. He didn't feel it was his place.

Of them all, including Calia, he felt the very fond of Saebi Cocha and Aprbi Tedal. The youngest of the Mandalorians, they had hardly been of age to lift a blaster at the end of the Mandalorian Wars, but had still been combatants in that unfortunate incident. Saebi was a sweet but electric woman in her early twenties with grand dreams and an attitude that he knew would carry her far. Aprbi was cute and vibrant but a deadly combatant, as she had demonstrated during that incident on Coruscant. Amazed then, he had given her a bonus, but Calia had overruled any time off or other reward. His they may be, but she still commanded.

Two of the women that were quickly growing on him were Lored Cumia and Lanca Fasea. Lored was small, but very sexy to him and a vibrant if quiet woman. She performed her duties with a quiet fire and a quick mind that Aaron found stunning and attractive at the same time. Lanca on the other hand, was a fun loving and experienced woman who was as likely to challenge him to a hand of Pazaak as quickly as she would be to a bout of sparring. Just under two meters tall, she nearly saw eye to eye with him, literally, and was direct and honest with a ready smile when he most seemed to need it.

Dosda Crpor and Chech Jaden were two women cut from the same cloth. They had their differences, but many of their attributes drew them to each other as fellow soldiers and deadly combatants. Dosda was a tough, professional woman who had an uncanny, analytical mind. In all things, she approached them this way, whether fighting for Aaron's life or polishing her armor for her next tour of duty. Even when the blaster bolts flew, she held onto her reserve and didn't break or back down, so much so that Aaron had even been impressed. Chech, in much the same way, was a striking woman that held close to her passions, a quick and deadly opponent that was as ruthless as she was beautiful. She, too, had been uncanny in her defense and Aaron felt that he owed her his life as much as he had Aprbi.

Another woman that fell into their category was Kelal Smatl. Tough and professional, she was quick on the trigger when the need arose, but could subdue just as easily when the situation warranted, whether that required a look, a blaster bolt, or cuffs. Hesitant, she never was.

Two of the others that he enjoyed having around were Bobba Smalb and Adabu Tawas. Bobba was a fun and funny woman who constantly made fun of Aaron in private, never hurtful, but willing to trade jibes to keep his spirit light. She was a passionate woman who was more than willing to release her passions for his benefit and in defense of her comrades. Acting as the sniper of the Valkyrs, she was the best versed in everything from a blaster to heavy weapons and was capable of shots that amazed Aaron, Jedi abilities or not. Adabu was much the same although cut from a different bolt. Where Bobba was lighthearted, Adabu did much the same, but with a bitchiness to her manner that kept Aaron guessing. Quick and sharp, Adabu was a smart and professional woman who struck him more as an accountant than a warrior. Still, she was very much the expert in her job and on the nights she snuggled into his bed, she was both professional and protective in her manner, tempting him like few others would.

The last two women as members of the Valkyrs were both his favorites and least favorites of the entire crew. Antab Lulos and Angal Brnew were, to put it mildly, zealous as Aaron's bodyguards. After their first shift as his guards, he had made sure that they never served on the same shift for a variety of reasons, none of which involved their abilities as Valkyrs. For starters, he had gotten little rest. When their shift, along with Adabu, had started, he had found himself entangled, literally, with Antab. She was a deadly warrior who had no mercy in combat and destroyed all opposition in her path when her master, as she put it, was in peril. Not guarding his door, she had been blatant in tempting him to bed, his resistance to her nearly crumbled, she instead giving him a respite and lulling him to sleep in her arms. When she had been relieved, it had been Angal that had tempted him, he resisting regardless of what his body told him, she insistent but understanding his reluctance to enjoy her charms.

Reporting to the bridge the next morning, Aaron had quickly made sure that all was in order, turned over command to General Desada, and returned to his quarters with orders not to be disturbed unless the Sith Fleet invaded the Republic in force. As he had discovered, much to his chagrin, both Antab and Angal had healthy appetites and, as Calia told him, he was the only viable candidate available at the moment and they would waste little time in sating themselves.

To find relief, he had diverted Angal to Desada's quarters one night just to get the sleep that that would afford without the distraction of another entanglement with one of the Valkyrs.

It had been for naught, at least where Antab was concerned. In a moment of weakness, when Revan had been closest to the surface, Aaron had been unable to restrain those baser instincts and Revan had escaped...for a time.

It hadn't been that long ago.

Now, as Aprbi and Lanca guarded the door, he tossed the last of the chits into the helmet and stood. The women acknowledged the silent signal of him standing by moving to the outer door, giving him privacy to dress.

It was then that another vision hit him. Aprbi and Lanca didn't see it, but Antab did, reclining on the bunk and watching Aaron as he grasped his head, bending over in pain. Her eyes on him grew hot as the vision took him.

Aaron felt the vision of the Force lance through his skull as if an overpowered lightsaber had lanced through it. Bastila! Adria! Someone...tall, blond, she in his arms...gritting his teeth, he held to the vision even as he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

Without thought, Aaron's hands snapped out to grab his assailant by the shoulders. In front of him, he found he held Antab, her eyes glassy and hot, his control slipping as her lips creased ever so slightly.

'General...Aaron...Revan?'

Gritting his teeth, Aaron tried to resist, but the words drawled out of him anyway. 'Hello...my...dear.'

With a sigh, Antab's mouth curved further. 'Revan.'

'Yessss...'

Reaching up and stroking Aaron, Revan's, cheek, Antab said, 'I was wondering when the...Master would return.'

'Your pathetic excuse for a General, this LightBlade, cannot be the Master all the time. He will slip and when he does...I will be there! So...now, my pet, what of you...to die? My time is short, but I want to enjoy it.'

Antab's lips curled into a full-blown smile. 'It would be my pleasure to...service your needs...Master.' Antab's eyes flickered with some hidden emotion, but she suppressed it quickly.

'Of course, my pretty.' Sliding his hand up her body, Revan, Aaron, took Antab by the throat and shoved her backwards onto the bunk she had just occupied. Moving forward, he joined her.

Deep inside of his head...further away than thought, Aaron screamed.

The speaker crackled. Opening his eyes, Aaron felt the warmth next to him, listening to the report as he shifted.

'General.'

Sighing as he looked over at Antab, he replied, 'Go ahead, Lored.'

'Sir. We've arrived at the coordinates and I think you should see this.'

Aaron froze for a brief second and then responded with, 'What is it?'

'I've never seen anything like it, sir. It's a lot like a black hole, only blue, and its swirling, sir. It could be the Force, but I've never heard of anything that fits this description and Adabu is confirming that it isn't in our records.'

Meeting Antab's eyes, he saw that she was now in business mode, the mission now at the forefront well ahead of any distractions she was providing. Although she tried to hide it, he caught the shiver that passed through her even as his own senses detected the wrongness of the situation. Rolling off the bunk, he moved to one of the lockers and opened it even as Antab leveraged herself up to pull on her jumpsuit, the Force making its presence known and informing him they were exactly where they needed to be.

As he dressed, he watched Antab, his emotions roiling within him. He felt guilty about where he had awakened, the weakness in letting Revan slip through his defenses. He had been cognizant the whole time, but had been powerless to stop Revan, pain lancing through that part that was Aaron even as Antab suffered Revan's attentions.

Awkwardly, Aaron pulled on his trousers even as he watched Antab out of the corner of his eye for signs that he had harmed her in some way. She seemed to be favoring her right side, but when her eyes met his and caught him watching, her face lit with a beatific smile and she covered whatever possible injury he might have inflicted.

He tried to keep an eye on her, but as she finished, she pulled on her helmet and any clues to what he might have done were hidden with that single motion.

Frustrated, Aaron spoke to the com, 'I'm on my way.' Pulling on the last of his clothing, that hadn't seen the light of day in some time, he turned and headed out of the crew quarters.

Calia stood in the cockpit and fumed. They were where General LightBlade had told them to go and he wasn't here, paying proper mind to the situation. She didn't know what was delaying him, but she didn't like it. Dammit, Aaron, get your ass up here.

When the scrape of a boot alerted Calia to Aaron's presence, she turned and stood, facing him in full armor, helmet and all, and grimaced as she caught sight of him.

He was no longer in the uniform of the Republic. Before her, dressed in black leather and a fashion that reminded her strangely of Revan, her dark cloaked leader stood ready with lightsabers in easy reach and a look that brooked no argument.

Raising a finger, he pointed at the swirl and said, 'Take us in. It is there that we'll find Bastila.' He met Calia's eyes and continued. 'With a little luck and a good deal of the Force, the rest will be with her.'

Calia strapped herself in and held on as the Galaxy Tiger accelerated towards the Rift.