"You are weak, Atin."

Walon Vau circled his former trainee slowly as he prepared to focus him. Atin stood at rigid attention, his face motionless, but his eyes speaking of the pain he was carrying within him.

Vau shoved away the urge to comfort him: Atin needed skills—and a killer's mind-set—to stay alive. Not pity. And Vau would give him what he needed to survive.

"You preformed unsatisfactorily on Geonosis, Atin. Your actions resulted in the death of your three brothers. Again. You killed them, Atin. Remember that live fire training exercise on Kamino? Six good men have died because of you."

Vau saw the pain etched clearly on Atin's face and pressed on, knowing that he was close to the reaction he wanted.

Clad in his Mandalorian armor minus the helmet, Vau made an imposing figure and he knew it.

"You stayed behind when your brothers advanced, didn't you, Atin?" Vau asked rhetorically, even though the information wasn't true. Stepping closer to him, Vau leaned in and whispered, "You are a hu'tuun, Atin. A coward—"

Vau finally got a reaction.

Atin broke attention and spun around to face Vau, a pain-filled, livid expression in his eyes.

"I was doing exactly as ordered, Sarge," Atin growled hoarsely, his voice breaking.

Push just a little harder.

Vau leaned forward until his face was centimeters from Atin's; he could see the animal rage as well as the grief in the clone's eyes. Vau smiled humorlessly. This wasn't going to be pretty, but it had to be done.

"Time for a little training exercise, Atin," he whispered, never breaking eye contact. Vau backed up slightly still keeping his eyes locked on Atin's, letting him know that he was giving a challenge.

"Thor, attention!"

Thor, RC-3433, snapped to attention across from Atin. Vau finally broke eye contact with the commando and glided over to his equipment stacked by the wall to pick up his iron, Mand'o saber: he had a feeling that he would need it. Vau noted with pleased interest that Atin watched his every movement with a predatory expression on his face. This would be an interesting training lesson.

"The object of this exercise is simple: fight your brother, and win—at all costs. And you both know what that entails…" Vau growled. Atin's face was filled with barely suppressed rage.

"RC's 3433 and 3222, begin the exercise."

Thor immediately went into a defensive stance, while Atin continued to glower at Vau, his whole body tensed and ready for action. "3433 stand down," Vau's gaze locked onto Atin's. "Begin the exercise again." Atin turned his full attention to Vau, not even glancing at Thor.

"3433 stand down," Vau sighed. Thor straightened up and backed away to the wall, sensing what was about to happen. Vau narrowed his eyes and held his saber in an offensive position. "Whenever you are ready, hu'tuun."

Atin lunged forward, heedless of the Mand'o saber being held in Vau's hand. Vau felt satisfaction well up in him when he saw Atin's eyes: the eyes of an animal. The eyes of a killer. Vau whipped the saber in a horizontal swipe, catching Atin full across the chest. The black bodysuit yielded easily to the sharp edge of saber and bit deep into the commando's chest.

Atin staggered back a step, but recovered quickly and prepared for another attack, not daunted in the least by a fully clad Mand'o warrior. Atin indeed.

Atin rushed again, only to again be mercilessly cut back by the saber.

Vau didn't know how long it lasted, but soon Atin was a bloody mess from shoulders to abdomen. But he kept coming. Vau felt a flash of irritation. Atin could do better than this.

"Is that all you can do, Atin? It's no wonder your brothers died—"

Vau's goading was immediately stopped by a hoarse snarl from Atin.

Atin leapt at Vau, and nearly succeeded in knocking him to the ground. As it was, he was able to land a solid punch to Vau's face. Vau felt the excruciating pain from his nose and was able to guess that it was broken.

Eyes glinting psychotically, Vau drew back his fist and landed several successive punches to Atin's bloodied chest. Picking up the fallen saber, he hefted it up and slashed hard and fast several times over. The first pass went deep into Atin's shoulder, traveling down his ribs leaving a thick, red ribbon of blood.

It got progressively worse after that.

Atin flinched violently as the saber caught him on the face, the blade making a deep, bloody gash from just under his right eye, across his lip, and ending on the left side of his jaw. Stunned by the blow, Atin didn't have time to react when Vau landed a hard blow to his side. The saber bit through the bodysuit and went deep into Atin's side eliciting a stifled moan from him. The sergeant gave a vehement twist before jerking it out again.

Vau's former trainee lay in a bleeding, wheezing heap, his whole body trembling from the abuse it had taken. Vau kneeled down next to him and stared dispassionately at the damage he had inflicted. Standing up, he slowly headed out of the room. "Thor, get a medic in here, will you?" Vau didn't hear Thor's answer and didn't need to. Striding out of the room he absent-mindedly began cleaning Atin's blood off his saber.

The thought never occurred to him that what he'd done was cruel: he was saving Atin's soul from being dar'manda­­. And that was the greatest favor that he could give him.