Tales of the Mandalorians

[Dieter Schprokets]

The Warrior Reiner Hetsau and the one simply known as Wolf stood before the Mandalore at his command chair on the flasgship Mhi-Motir.

He finished his paperwork, and looked up.

"You are likely wondering why you are here. I won't mince words."

He reached into his tunic and pulled out two simple rank insignias.

The mark of the Alor'ad. Both pilots eyes went wide.

"You are hereby field commissioned to the rank of Alor'ad. Some may doubt my wisdom promoting realitively new pilots, but you two spend more time in space than some asteroids I know, and I simply WILL reward effort like that."

He pinned the rank insignia on the two now not-so-junior pilots.

"There is more to being a Mandalorian than skill or seniority."

He sat on his command chair.

"There is a less quantifiable thing called heart. And you boys have that in spades."

He dismissed them, with a respectful nod.

"Victory, Alor'ad."

The pilots gave their respects then walked away.

The Mandalore leaned back in his chair, glad that so far today he had been able to ignore the pounding in his head.

Note to self, he thought.

Do not go drinking with Hispania squadron after an outing. Tequila hates you.

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