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The reeking stink of rotting flesh and smoking machinery filled my nose, heightening all my senses at once. Nothing new about a few broken droids on fire, always had shot them down for kicks. But the stench of dead carcasses was sickening, all too familiar like spoiled fruit. I felt just inhaled my way through an entire package of spice. I must be really that high to be hallucinating. I’m not exactly sure how I should be feeling. 

A lot of people died here. It doesn’t matter who or whether they were Mandalorian , Jedi, or Republic soldiers. Nearly all of them eliminated out of the game. Men and women – either already dead or dying on both sides. This final battle… could hardly be counted as a victory or a loss. Yeah, somehow we won just like that.

Those damned Mandalorian bastards deserved to die. They had it coming. As for the Jedi… looking at the disintegrated and charred bodies around me and the poisonous green miasma rising from the jagged cracks on the surface… they have a hell load to answer for Malachor V. All of them do. Revan… seems like we owe her something, but what if she had tried to kill us? Well, we’re all loyal to her, it was enough.

Guess General Trelyve finally activated the Mass Field Generator. That’s why we won in the end. Our final resort when it the war wasn’t tipped in our favor and when we were beginning to lose. Without it, the whole galaxy would’ve been Mandalorian slaves or corpses. There was a guarantee that all of us were going to die. Hell, I’m surprised that at least a handful of grunts managed to stay alive. Though, I can’t imagine what was going on in the General’s mind as she pulled the switch and what kept her from doing it.

It’s all over, isn’t it? Time for the galaxy to go back the way it was before all this shit happened. Some kind of crappy happy ending to a fairy tale. Yeah, right. Yet, it’s too early to assume anything and wish upon a star for it to come true. Then again, I’m bantha fodder.
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“No, I can’t die now. Need to keep moving until I’m safe.” I should be astonished, no beyond speechless that I’m still alive, barely. I should be dead as the rest of my brethren during that ambush. I could hardly remember it correctly; my head hurts when I tried to recall it. It happened way too fast. Mother was hurt badly, I was carrying ammunition to Father, heard the ground rumble beneath me – earthquake. Then Brother stepped in front of me because I was too afraid to move when the explosions began and…

Oh, God. It’s coming back to me now. Everyone I knew is dead, Mother, Father, Brother – gone. Our clans lost. I’m a coward, even now I know I’m a weakling. I feel the string of incoming tears. I can’t cry, I’m not supposed to, but I did anyway. I’m not a real Mando, just a pathetic excuse for a girl. I shouldn’t have been born a Mandalorian. All I had been good for is enduring and having stamina. Brother always told me that surviving is part of the battle. I sucked in a breath and coughed. It had a rancid taste.

I’m more or less unharmed, just extremely tired in a desperate need to rest for a minute. For the record, I should be okay with a slight headache, but I knew I was bleeding on my left side. I hissed when I touched the deep bloody gash. Too bad I’ve lost my kolto pack during the heat of fire and I don’t have anything for a make-shift bandage. Stupid, I know. At least, my injuries aren’t too severe to be life threatening. I know I’ll be alright until I’m free from this taboo world. It’s time to leave now, overstaying my welcome here isn’t my intention. For some reason, it feels like Malachor was dying, but it’s not important. Right now I have to focus on staying awake and making sure I don’t lose too much blood. Not to mention to survive, I don’t have any weapons, only a concealed virboblade in my boot. Just in case until I could find a blaster and some hand grenades.

Before I realized it, an arm circled around my neck and a blaster’s barrel jammed roughly at my back. I opened my mouth to scream, what would be the point now that nobody could hear me. I bit my lip and tried not to tremble. Dammit, why didn’t I survey my surroundings first before saying the coast is clear? I thought everyone had been killed or wouldn’t search for survivors to murder.

“Who are you?” A young man’s voice, tough and commanding, no surprise there. Probably one of those Republic dogs, not one of our Mando warriors back at home. From the stories I heard, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill a Mandalorian, even a defenseless girl. I didn’t believe in those rumors, there is good and bad. But I actually think that this man would kill me whenever he feels like it.

I gulped; it ran down my throat hard. I’m sure this man could sense my fear and reluctances. I hope I could be fooled for a bronzed skinned twelve year old girl with frightened hazel eyes who is obviously wounded and have nothing to do with Malachor. “My name is Liina. Liina Syo. My whole family is dead.”

~*~*~*~*~
Two Years Later
Things changed just like I knew they would. Bad shit could happen real quick if you don’t watch where you step. Heh, the once-renowned Jedi Knight Revan has become Dark Lord of the Sith that only goes by “Darth Revan”, or “Master”. Malak became her right hand apprentice. Revan’s first apprentice, Andria Trelyve, had gone missing ever since the Mandalorian Wars came to an end. Some of the higher ranks say that she met her end at Revan’s lightsaber, others say that she deserted war, I don’t buy any of it. Based off the General’s healing and combat abilities, she’s at least capable of taking care of herself and not looking to get killed. Trelyve is young, too young to be hanging around dying people and bloodthirsty Mandalorians. She probably decided to go back to the Jedi, stay low and try not to attract attention. It’s sad really, everything went to hell. Revan lost her healer that was going to be her prospective apprentice and Malak follows his Master like a dog to a bone. Then Darth Revan decides to rage war against the Jedi. It’s like she has a temper tantrum when things aren’t done her way. Not that I’m defending them or anything, the Jedi that didn’t fight against the Mandalorians and decided to sit back and watch us burn, deserve to die.

I suppose I should be held accountable for being a killer. Right after the final battle on Malachor, I was right there with the rest of the deflectors because it was the right thing to do. On that day on Malachor V, the fires that still burn while the world was dying, I killed a girl. Lena or Leda or whatever the hell her name was, she was a bloody Mandalorian. It doesn’t matter how old you are, just when you’re either fighting or not. I always hated to kill a kid; it just didn’t feel right to me. As time passed on, I learned how to control that. To keep my emotions in check so I don’t go over the edge and black out into a frenzy again. Emotions are barriers that hold you back and you couldn’t kill freely. You have to isolate them, don’t think about them. Screw the girl.

I… taught myself techniques. My superiors knew about them and I sure as Hell was respected for it. All I had to do was capture Jedi for Revan and stand there and look smug while she converts them to Dark Jedi through torture. Would’ve been easier to kill them on sight, but my passion for making them suffer in any way and seeing them fall was the best of it.

I just want to forget about that for a minute. I caught Livia’s scent, fizzy citrus-scented soap from the other room. She slipped her arms around me from behind and pecked a kiss on my cheek, her long dark brown hair tickled my neck. I kissed her on the lips, filled with the need for sex. She answered the urgency of my kisses with her own, pressing my back against the couch. Her heat washed over me all at once as she removed her jacket, revealing a sleeveless shirt.

“Are you okay, Jaq?” She asked the question between kisses, but I didn’t answer. She didn’t ask again, didn’t complain or wrinkle her nose at what’s eating me. I would have had sex with her right there, but I’m not entitled to doing it on the couch. I carried her into the bedroom.

Livia Munn was the only kind of girlfriend I let myself have for a while, only until I have a reason to get rid of her and get someone better. She has a great body – big where she was supposed to be big and narrow where narrow is good, a bad attitude, and extremely low self-esteem. She wasn’t exactly dumb, but she wasn’t smart either, she’s the innocent naive farm girl from Naboo that wanted to become a pilot for the Republic. Apparently, farm life wasn’t the type of thing she wanted to do; space travel and boys were all that mattered in her life. I knew she had a younger sister named Tera whose holo she always carried with her, and I guessed she had parents, but they weren’t on very good terms on her career choice. In short, if I broke her by accident I wouldn’t feel too much about it and no one would really miss her. It’s cruel, I know. Go tell it to someone who cares.

Livia wore that stupid look she gets when she thinks she’s being sly, her sea green eyes peeked at me through her eyelashes. She starts calling me Jaq-kun, whatever that meant, as though I belong to her. It’s not that flattering, let me tell you. I turned away and rolled my eyes; my memory of it was crystal clear. It’s like basic procedure with her. Before she even opened her mouth I knew her plan. She would compliment me on the act, worshipping me like a sex god; she might be faking it for my benefit or trying to put it as a big show. Her possessive obsession makes her believe she’s actually in love with me.

After the compliments, I predicted she’d snuggle for a minute and then ask me how I kill Jedi just as casually asking me how old I am. I answer and she pretends like she had forgotten, intrigued on how simple it was. I could tell it really turns her on as a fitting orgasm. She hates Jedi as much as I do, at least shows it to try to impress me. She mentions that we should find a way to work together so we could feel closer in our relationship. She says meeting here and there after a few months isn’t cutting out for her. I show that I really don’t care.

She’d say it would be different with us because we’re in love. I’d point out that I don’t love her and then I’d wait to see if she cried or started yelling. If she cried, I’d leave. If she yelled, I’d leave. So predictable. Typical, she wants me to do things to her like the moon and the sun. Hell no, I don’t do that. I hope the word “marriage” never crosses her mind. Despite her flaws, Livia is willing to do anything for me.
“… and my legs were so totally shaking.” She held on to me tighter, smothering me. I groaned. I don’t bother listening to her. She can really bore a guy to tears. I can’t stand it when she babbles on and on about the sex thing. I should really break her neck and find another woman, but she’s not worth the effort. I stood up and headed for the door.
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