"Get down!" Ophelia's mother, Lena, shouted above the din of blasters firing.

Ophelia ducked behind a barricade. Looking up, she saw her father, Ebin, flying overhead leading a squadron of his elite Guards against the droid army.

Boom!

She flinched backwards as shrapnel from a rocket exploded in front of her.

Her mother charged past her, closely followed by her personal advisor, Erin, both dressed in their full sets of Beskar armor, which were painted in the Mare Clan's traditional colors of white and yellow.

Explosions blossomed around Ophelia as she retreated backwards behind another barricade as the droids advanced closer and closer to the fortress the Mare clan was defending.

Clank, clank, clank.

Ophelia whipped around, pulling her twin blasters out of their holsters, to see several B-1 battle droids that had gotten through the other Mandalorians and were attempting to sneak up on her. 

She rolled to one side, narrowly avoiding the shots them fired at her. She came to a stop in a kneeling position and shot back at them, hitting the first and the second in the head, downing them. The third and fourth, however, continued to advance.

Shooting another two shots, she ended them both.

Moving back behind the barricade she had been behind before the droids had made her move, she surveyed the battlefield. It was beginning to look badly for her Clan. They were outnumbered and being pushed back. Although they were all wearing Beskar, with the sheer number of their foes, some had been hit or killed.

"Retreat to the fortress!" Lena called, as she rallied the troops to her side, "We must hold them off until help arrives!"

Ophelia stood, firing off several shots into the oncoming hoard of droids, before being swept up off her feet my one of her father's elite guards, Nyrin, and carried up and over the wall of the fortress.

"Put me down!" She protested, "I'm not a child, and I can walk!"

"Oh, sorry your highness." Nyrin chuckled, setting her on her feet in the courtyard. He landed, taking his helmet off to reveal his jet-black hair and roguish blue eyes twinkling at her.

"Haven't I told you not to call me that?" Ophelia asked, folding her arms.

"Yep. I just didn't listen." He wiped sweat out of his eyes, sighing, "We're getting demolished. Who knew Mandalorians could get killed by tin cans?"

"Pretty strong tin cans," Ophelia remarked, watching as the last of her Clanmates either flew or ran into the fortress.

She pulled off her helmet, shaking out her long black hair that was coming out of it's braid, seeing her mother approaching them with her father not far behind.

Nyrin snapped to attention, saluting the Clan Chief and his wife.

"At ease, soldier," Ebin said.

"Yes, sir." Nyrin relaxed a bit, lowering his salute.

"Are you alright, Ophelia?" Ebin asked.

"Yes, Father. I'm fine. You know, I'm not a child anymore. I'm fourteen."

Ebin laughed, shaking his head, "You act more like your mother every day."

Lena scowled at him, "I was never as impetuous as she is."

"So you say, Lena, but I remember the first time I met you. You tried to shoot me because I was wearing a different clan's colors."

"I thought you were an enemy intruder."

"But our Clans were both of house Visla."

"How was I to know that, eh?"

Ebin rolled his eyes, "Anyway, back to the current situation. I sent a Mayday message out on all the channels I could reach, but I don't know if I reached anyone. The cruiser the droids came in is jamming outgoing messages."

"It sounds like you need to send someone out of the system for help, sir." Nyrin said.

"The problem is, Nyrin, how am I going to get anyone past the cruiser and the hyena droids?"

"Not sure, sir." Nyrin admitted.

"Exactly." Ebin grimaced, shaking his head, "I don't want to lose any more warriors today."

"How many did we lose?" Lena asked.

"Ten. Three of them were a part of my Elite Guard, too."

"That's more than we can afford to lose." Lena replied worriedly.

"I know. That's why I'm hesitant to send anyone else for help." 

"If we don't send anyone, everyone will end up dead." Ophelia said.

"You're right," Ebin said finally, "Who's our best flyer?" He wondered out loud.

"I am," Ophelia said confidently, green eyes flashing.

"Yes, but you are also the heir to our Clan." Lena reminded her sternly.

"Mother, there isn't anyone who can outfly or outmaneuver me. And besides, there's always my little brother if I don't make it."

"She's right, Lena." Ebin said.

"I can go with her, sir." Nyrin volunteered.

"Very well. It's settled, then. Ophelia, you and Nyrin may take the two-seat fighter and make a try to get out of the system," Ebin decided.

"I'll make it out." Ophelia promised her mother, putting her helmet back on, "If I can't do it, then no one can."

"Be safe." Ebin said somberly, watching as his daughter and Myrin climbed into the ship's cockpit. Ophelia took the controls while Nyrin took the guns.

Ophelia started the engine, feeling the ship come to life beneath her. She glanced over the controls, remembering her flight lessons. 

"This lever is hyperspace, these controls are for moving, and that button is accelerate..." She muttered to herself, pressing several buttons and activating the repulsor-lifts on the bottom on the ship.

The comm clicked on, "Ready and waiting." Nyrin said.

"Got it. Everything's showing green, it's time for take-off."