Tales of the Mandalorians

[Dieter Schprokets]

Bishop looked at the Mandalorian hanger bay. It was a mess. Coalition Marines had raided the bay, and had done millions of credits in damage, and killed and wounded scores of defenders.

The Joker and his thugs had also suffered damage to their pod, though none of them were currently to be seen there.

Joker got betrayed by the commies. Heh. Never trust a Red. Or a grown man in a clown suit for that matter.

The damage had not come at no cost to the Reds; William grimaced at the sight of a Coalition marine with a large blaster hole in his chest. His eyes were open wide in surprise. He had died instantly.

The young lady who had made the blaster hole limped towards the Mandalore. She glanced at her leg and shrugged.

"Sprained my ankle in the fight. Others did worse."

Diane had not participated in the battle in space near the planet. Still recovering from her ordeal in the hands of the Coalition, she had instead led the defence of the hanger bay.

Billy nodded. "We could have fared far worse. Except for the superhuman efforts those two over there." Billy gestured to where Lilian Isadora and Sagitarii sat slumped against the wall, their faces drawn and haggard from hours of combat. Combat that they, at least, had returned from in one piece.

Billy walked alone over to the two pilots, and kneeled in front of them. They nodded at their leader and started to stand.

"Relax, guys, and stay seated. You have done enough for me today. For all of us."

"The Coalition found my office. They raided my bar. Understandable. Diane says their vodka is foul stuff. Who in their right mind would make a drink by fermenting potatoes?"

"They, however, were unable to open the safe. There I keep some ancient artifacts of our tribe. Including these."

Billy handed two ancient metal insignia to the two pilots.

"They are meant to be worn over the heart. They are the "Inya'Motir". That translates (loosely) as 'To Stand in Flame'. They were awarded, usually posthumously, to those who had fought a reaguard action, thereby saving their brothers. Thankfully, I get to give these to you, instead of thanking your corpses."



The pilots took their medals and pinned them to their chests. Their thanks were muted by a mixture of surprise, exhaustion, and embarassment.

Billy sat next to the wall, and sighed.

"One of my predecessors, John Cabot, seized the chair from his predecessor, Luc McLeod. John and his followers were incensed that Mandalore McLeod was frittering away men and resources on pointless vendettas and wars of pride. They were beaten, badly, by Mollys. It was a humiliating time, and precipitated our civil war."

Billy looked around the room. "All this is because of my pride, and a foolish vendetta against the Reds and the clowns. Am I any better than McLeod?"

The two pilots had not seen their leader so unsure of himself before. Sagitarii was quick to reassure him.

"Sir, you are not Luc McLeod."

Lilian finished the thought.

"And I don't know about anyone else, but I can't think of any good reason to stop killing the bastards now."

Billy laughed aloud. "Thank you. I was kind of hoping you would say that."

---