Trial of the Mand'alor

[Mr. Blue]

“Mand’alor, we will enter the Yavin system in one minute,” an armored Mandalorian spoke quickly from his console on the bridge of the capital ship Falcata.

The Mandalore nodded in response, her eyes never leaving the viewport that opened hyperspace before her. She glanced down to her armor, polished silver with a green tint. It was traditional Mandalorian armor, adorned with very few scratches and scars. She had not seen many battles, but she was already revered as the mightiest Mandalorian in the galaxy. On her left shoulder a small symbol was the only clue to her previous identity. Only eighteen months ago she was merely Kota Fett, daughter of the Mandalore, and a child in the eyes of any warrior on Mandalore. It had taken all of her strength to gain her new name. The Sole Leader of Mandalore. The greatest of the Mando’a. Al'Ori'Ramikade. Mand’alor. And now, eighteen months later, she finally had the opportunity to prove to her people she was worthy. This was her time to disprove the claims of Clan Vizsla, and show that she was the only person to lead the might of the Mando’a.

“Mand’alor, entering the Yavin system in five, four,” the pilot began to countdown.
Mandalore grabbed the helmet at her side and placed it on her head, hiding her olive skin behind a green helm defined by a T-shaped visor. As her eyes adjusted to the view behind the visor, she watched the starlines of hyperspace shrink to dots in the sky. The red planet of Yavin dominated the viewport, and it was dotted with numerous Sith capital ships, all raining turbolaser fire upon the small moon orbiting the red gas giant. Everything was going to plan. The Sith were completely off guard.

She turned to her right. Standing behind her was the one man she trusted completely. Nissek. He had no clan name, nor emblem adorning his armor. He was purely Mandalorian. He had served her father, the previous Mandalore, with complete loyalty. He was responsible for saving both her life and her father’s countless times. He was the one who had pushed Kota - no, not Kota Fett, Mand’alor – to take her role as leader of the Mando’a. It was his advice she valued most, because it was the Mando’a he placed first. Nissek nodded at her, and pressed a button. Several miniature holograms arose before the Mandalore, all placing their fists to their chests in a sign of loyalty.

“It is time. The Sith are completely off guard, and we shall slaughter them in the skies. By now your primary attack squadrons should be launched, and as I speak our capital ships move into position. It is time we defended the Republic as they have us for so many years. It is time we crushed these Sith dogs beneath our boots. It is time we remind the galaxy that it is not the Empire or the Republic, the Sith or the Jedi, who are the strongest. It is time the galaxy remembers the Mando’a as they should be remembered. Warriors, fight with honor and strength, but above all else, fight.”

[Mr. Blue]

“My lord, scouts have spotted Mandalorian capital ships entering the system,” a Sith lieutenant bowed before Darth Mallus, his voice barely above a whisper.

The Emperor let out a slight sigh, barely audible above the machinations of the mask pumping hydrogen into his body. He studied the area intently. Across the grounds in front of the Jedi temple, bodies were strewn everywhere. Only twenty meters away laid the corpse of the Jedi Council member whom Mallus had convinced to betray his entire order; such a pathetic fool. And even now, Mallus almost didn’t blame the Twi’lek. Afterall, he had been convinced by Mallus’s power. No other being in the galaxy was as powerful as him. It was bound to draw the attention of even the most revered of the lesser beings. But that was what Mallus was. He was Lord of the Sith. Emperor. The greatest being to have ever existed. Absolute power incarnate. Since he had destroyed his feebleminded master, Mallus had been able to turn the tide of the war. Even today he stood upon the freshly ruined grounds of his most vehement of enemies. This was his time to seize the absolute power that only Mallus was destined to control.

“My lord, should I order a counterstrike?” the bowing trooper broke through Mallus’s thoughts.

The Emperor reached for the lightsaber on his belt, restraining his urge to decapitate this man who dared to speak to him without permission. He instead turned his eyes to the sky, relieving his displeasure with the sight of turbolasers raining down on Jedi defenses located mere kilometers from him. As he reached out with the Force, he could still feel several Jedi dying in combat to his Sith warriors or to the turbolaser fire from the atmosphere. This was a day of victory.

It was inevitable, though, that the Jedi would have reinforcements. They were, after all, not completely inept. It was slightly surprising that it was the Mandalorians who answered their distress signals. It did not matter. Mallus would crush them as he had the Jedi. This was his day. He was finally able to force the galaxy to see that he was to lead them to perfection. Without him, the galaxy would continue to erupt with chaos and destruction. It was only Mallus’s power that could reign in the chaos and create a perfect galaxy. Mallus began to laugh at the man bowing before him in absolute loyalty.

“Auxiliary forces were bound to arrive sooner or later. Order the bombardment to cease and for all Sith capital ships to intercept the newcomers. Signal Nequam, Vapida, and Nocen, and tell them to rendezvous with me at the fighters. We have routed the majority of the Jedi forces. We shall crush the Mandalorians in similar fashion.”

[Mr. Blue]

"Purge Squadron, this is Purge Leader, all wings report," Mallus sneered. He hated flight protocol, but it was a means to an end. Without their tools of order, lesser beings would fall to chaos. Even Mallus had to adhere to these things if he wanted to maintain his power.

"Purge Two, standing by," the male Twi'lek Lord Nequam smirked in his own fighter's cockpit. This battle was undoubtably exhilarating to him. It was his chance to prove to Mallus that he was worthy of his place on the Dark Council. Mallus was sure his vigor would prove useful. He was decently skilled with the Force, even if he was a half-wit. A fool with a lightsaber can still cut through a man.

"Purge Three, standing by," Mallus heard the fair voice of Lord Vapida drift through the comm. She made Nequam look like a genius. It had been her tongue and her chest that had earned her spot on the council. Unfortunately for her, Mallus' only lust was held for power, and no one, especially a human girl, would distract him from his ultimate goals.

"Purge Four, standing by," echoed the voice of the man who had been seduced by Vapida. Lord Nocen was strong and intelligent, but he fell prey to his vices. An addiction to spice and the Lady Vapida had a profound effect on the zabrak. It truly was a pity, too. Nocen had had so much potential.

A list of Purge Squadron members, numbering to twenty, rattled off. Only the first three following Mallus were true Sith, if they could be called that. The Emperor had taken to adding Dark Council members to his personal battalion. It was a fine way for them to prove themselves useful to the Dark Lord.

The formation of fighter blasted their way out of the forest moon's atmosphere, blazing their way toward the armada of Mandalorians. They easily cut through rows of Mandalorian fighters, only losing two fighters as they tore through six squadrons of Mandalorians. Mallus hardly paid attention to the battle. In his mind, he drifted through each of the Mandalorian capitol ships, searching for his prey. The young Fett girl thought herself to be Mand'alor now. Mallus greatly desired to test her mettle.

Mallus checked the encryption on his comm. Good, the Mandalorians still hadn't managed to crack into their communications. "Purge Squadron, form up behind me. These dog fights are a waste of our efforts," he spoke, glaring at the capitol ship that had gained his attention. "We move to take the Falcata."

[Mr. Blue]

"Mand'alor, we have reports that several fighters have just broken through our defenses and landed in the starboard hangar bay!" a man in blue armor quickly interrupted the flow of battle reports.

The Mandalore felt her heart sink into the abysmal pit created in her stomach by the report. "Give me a visual, now!" she ordered quickly, desperate to prove her fears incorrect.

An image materialized on the viewport, providing a bird's eye view of the hangar bay. It was chaos. Blaster bolts flew everywhere as dozens of Mandalorian pilots and soldiers took cover behind overturned fighters and cargo pods. They encircled only a dozen or so beings, all armored in black. Four of the beings wielded lightsabers. One of them wielded an orange lightsaber. The Mandalore stared at one of the Sith fighters on the screen. Upon it was one of the few things that could strike fear into her heart. It was a single Kel Dorian skull, with an orange lightsaber crossed downward vertically in front of it. Purge Squadron, the personal fighter group of the emperor himself, had just landed on her ship. There was no doubt in her mind where Mallus was headed.

"Mand'alor," the man to her right broke the silence that had seemed to last an eternity, as every person on the bridge of the Falcata figured out who they had just been boarded by. "May I have a word with you, in the ready room?"
The Mandalore nodded and rose from her captain's chair.

The two made their way to a room on the right of the bridge. It was gray and barren, the only furniture a long metal table surrounded by a dozen chairs. Twenty-four hours ago the Mandalore had gathered all of the commanders of her mighty fleet in this room. Twenty-four hours ago, she had felt like the mightiest general in Mandalorian history. Now, everything had changed. She was alone. The most feared being in the universe was on her ship, and there was no doubt in anyone's mind who he wanted.

"Mand'alor," Nissek broke the silence again, activating the hidden viewscreen on the wall. A familiar image of the starboard hangar bay jumped into existence. "We must vent the hangar bay now, if we want any hope of surviving this," Nissek suggested calmly.
"And kill all of our warriors?!" The Mandalore snapped, trying to come to terms with the dire situation.
"If they are not sacrificed, you run the risk of sacrificing the whole ship, Mand'alor," Nissek returned deliberately. If he was afraid, he did not show it.
The Mandalore took a deep breath. She was glad Nissek had brought her into the ready room for this. Her momentary lapse in strength would have done more damage to the morale of her warriors than any Sith emperor. She thumbed a button on the table. "Commander, vent the starboard hangar bay immediately."

[Mr. Blue]

An alarm screeched into existence far above Mallus' head, as he deflected several blaster bolts half-heartedly. That sound meant only one thing: the new Mandalore was too much of a coward to face Mallus face-to-face. The blaster bolts raining down on the Sith stopped for a moment, as the Mandalorian pilots raced to make sure their air-suits were air-tight. The warriors ill-equipped to deal with the impending vacuum of space charged in one final moment of glory. Mallus stole a glance behind him, watching the resourceful Darth Nequam already closing the cockpit on a Mandalorian fighter. Nocen and Vapida had made a dash for one of the doors, using some of the other Sith troopers as blaster shields. Mallus accepted his own fate. The Mandalorians had allowed the other three to escape in order to assure the emperor's demise. The pathetic fools had no idea the power they were attempting to contain.

The blue ray-shield blocking the vacuum of space flickered for a moment, before a roaring wind swept Mallus from his feet. Mallus sliced through one Mandalorian as he lunged after the emperor, a fleeting attack from a desperate man with only seconds to live. Mallus scanned the debris rushing from the hangar bay as his body was dragged out into space. Twenty meters away he saw the final moments of Darth Vapida, as the vacuum of space froze her solid. Humans' bodies were so weak. Nequam was busy steadying his stolen fighter, trying to recover from the sudden vacuum. Mallus could not find Nocen, although he sensed the Sith had not died yet.

He abruptly finished his fleeting thoughts, and began to focus on his own survival. Ten meters above him was an armored Mandalorian. The fool had already activated his jet pack, and was heading back toward the Falcata. Mallus propelled himself with the Force, slamming hard into the Mandalorian's stomach. Mallus wrapped his legs around the unsuspecting warrior, who began to reach for a blaster. Mallus smiled as he ripped the Mandalorian's helmet off, the man's face flash-freezing in a look of horror as the vacuum of space sealed his fate. With the Mandalorian dead, Mallus grabbed the control pad on expired soldier's arm, already frozen in place, and began to use the jet pack to return to the Mandalorian capitol ship. He followed Nequam's fighter, and flew toward the port side hangar bay.

As he and the fighter approached the hangar bay, Mallus recognized that the blast door safety locks had just released. Mallus smashed the controls on the Mandalorian's wrist, blasting all of the fuel in the dead warrior's rocket-pack at once. In front of him, Nequam's fighter ripped through the blue ray shield of the port hangar bay. The ray shield flickered away, and the blast door began to slide across the hangar entrance. Mallus knew this was his only shot. The rocket pack of the warrior was almost spent, so Mallus set his boots against the frozen corpse, and launched himself toward the hangar.

The emperor won the race, only barely, as a piece of his robes' sleeve caught on the blast door as it slammed shut. Mallus landed on the hangar bay floor feet first, dropping his shoulder and tumbling over once before jumping to his feet again, lightsaber at the ready. Above him, Mandalorians with rocket packs rained blaster fire upon him. Mallus propelled himself back into the air and cut through two of them, as he raced toward the hangar entrance. The Mandalore would not receive the same opportunity twice.

Mallus blasted through several more Mandalorians in a flurry of red lightning, the Twi'lek Sith in brisk pursuit. Mallus ripped the entrance to the rest of the ship open with the Force, and rushed in. As soon as Nequam was in, Mallus slammed the door shut, and activated the venting sequence for the hangar bay. Mallus reached out with the Force for a moment, trying to ascertain his remaining forces. He immediately recognized Nocen, who was feral with grief and rage. It did not take long for him to recognize the two lone Sith troopers who had managed to survive with Nocen. They were one deck away.

"Come, Nequam," Mallus's words were poisonous with lethal certainty. "We don't want to keep the Mandalore waiting."

[Mr. Blue]

"The thermal detonators have been placed, Mand'alor," Commander Ordo spoke calmly to the Mandalore.
"Excellent. That dar'jetii won't know what hit him," she smiled.

Nissek stood across the bridge, staring out the viewport at the battle above Yavin. It was a stalemate. The Sith forces outnumbered the Mandalorians two to one, but the Mandalorians were far better fighters. And they had a golden opportunity presented to them by the emperor himself. If Mallus was killed, Mand'alor would be revered as one of the mightiest in history, and the Sith Empire would stagnate with civil war. Mallus hardly had a successor, and if Nissek's intelligence reports were correct, the Dark Council already brushed with treason on a weekly basis. The death of Mallus would be exactly the opportunity needed for the fall of his empire.

Mand'alor stepped up beside Nissek, her attention directed out the viewport as well, as if trying to read the old Mandalorian's thoughts.
"Are you ready?" Nissek quietly inquired.
"There's no place I would rather be," her voice did not falter with fear. Young or not, Nissek admired the young Mandalore's courage.
"Your father would be proud," Nissek assured her, as he turned and replaced his helmet on his head.

"Mand'alor, we have a Sith incoming with two Sith troopers!" a Mandalorian at a surveillance terminal called out.
"Allow me to take care of this, Mand'alor," Nissek spoke quickly. Now was not the time to stall. That was the Mand'alor's job.

Mand'alor nodded. "We'll see you soon."

Nissek turned and headed toward the exit of the bridge. The doors slid open quickly, and a puff of air was followed by a loud thud, as the blast doors closed behind him. In front of his path to the turbolift, a crazed zabrak clutching a red lightsaber, followed by two black armored Sith troopers approached. Nissek took no time pulling his blaster from its holster, and dropped the two soldiers with two quick shots. The Sith stopped short, startled by the quick deaths of his soldiers.

The zabrak snarled and unleashed a furious storm of blue lightning. As the tendrils of electricity lapped against Nissek's armor, the Sith cackled with laughter. "None shall stand in the way of Darth Nocen's glory!"
Nissek smiled as the Sith realized his Force attack had no effect. "Fight me as a warrior, hut'uun."

Darth Nocen roared and charged at the Mandalorian, lightsaber raised. Nissek jumped back, firing three shots with his blaster pistol. Nocen deflected the first shot as the other shots ripped through the zabrak's hand; the Sith yelled in pain, dropping his lightsaber. Without a moment's hesitation, Nissek activated the thrusters on his back, dropping his shoulder, and slammed into the Sith's diaphragm. Nissek regained his footing as the Sith tumbled backward. As the zabrak fell on his back, Nissek restarted on his path toward the turbolift, firing four shots in quick succession into the downed zabrak's skull as he walked past.

[Mr. Blue]

The twi’lek Sith, Darth Nequam, stared nervously as Lord Mallus stood over the body of the slain Darth Nocen. Nequam assumed that there was a look of disgust beneath his emperor’s mask as Lord Mallus retrieved Nocen’s lightsaber with the Force. It hovered in front of the emperor for a moment until the casing of the lightsaber shattered and pieces clattered on the durasteel floor. Lord Mallus stared for a moment at the exposed crimson lightsaber crystal before allowing the rest of the destroyed lightsaber plummet to the floor. He was clearly not impressed.

The only other bodies around Nocen were those of the two Sith troopers. They hadn’t even managed to kill a single Mandalorian in their pathetic solo assault on the bridge. Nequam smiled slightly, musing that his own power was far above both Nocen’s and Vapida’s incompetence.

“That remains to be seen,” Mallus broke the silence, cutting down Nequam’s confidence with a single blow.

Nequam devoted his attention to the blast door blocking his emperor and himself from the Mandalorian leader. He retrieved the elongated lightsaber hilt from his belt and activated one of the crimson blades. He plunged the laser sword into the blast door and began his feeble attempts to cut through. After a few moments, though, he decided his attempts were futile, and he turned back to the emperor, who stood head bowed. Nequam spun around at the hiss of the blast door flying open, and was amused to discover several Mandalorians with guns pointed at one of their own. It only took a moment for the Mandalorians to turn from the comrade, who fell to the ground unconscious, and start firing at the intruders.

Both blades of the Twi’lek’s lightsaber sprang to life as the Sith launched himself at the Mandalorians. Behind him, Lord Mallus released a maelstrom of crimson lightning, the shear power of his attacks tearing through the Mandalorians’ electricity resistant armor unlike any other Sith could, cooking the warriors within their own defenses. Nequam stuck to his melee attacks, cutting through a couple Mandalorians who were willing to pay attention to him. Next to the emperor, the Twi’lek hardly seemed like a threat. And while it was true that Mallus was far more powerful, the ignorance of the rest of the Mandalorian warriors cost half a dozen their lives upon Nequam’s crimson blades.

Nequam felt a nudge in his mind to return to his emperor as Lord Mallus ceased his assault. Nequam jumped back, surveying the destruction they had just unleashed. Only three Mandalorians were standing; one was in red armor, pointing two blaster pistols at Mallus, another a Mandalorian Knight in blue armor with a blue lightsaber drawn, and the Mand’alor herself, dressed in green armor that evoked images of her father, the previous Mand’alor, and every other great Fett since the days of Lord Sidious himself.

“Bravo,” hollow words echoed from behind Lord Mallus’s mask. “At least you aren’t a coward, young Mand’alor.”
Nequam smiled. The Mandalorians left standing were not afraid. This fight was going to be brutal.
“You will not win this day, dar’jetii,” Mand’alor returned, leveling her blaster rifle at the Sith emperor.
Nequam stood at Lord Mallus’s side in silence. Within in his thoughts, though, he was dying to fight the Mand’alor, and prove himself to his emperor.
Lord Mallus turned to Darth Nequam, and with two words he answered Nequam’s prayers: “Destroy her.”

Nequam sprung into action, lunging forward at the three remaining Mandalorians. The Mandalorian with blaster pistols began firing at Nequam, who deflected the shots. Another surge of Lord Mallus’s red lightning shot from behind Nequam, its deadly tendrils wrapping around the red-armored Mandalorian and extinguishing his life. The Mandalorian Knight nudged Mand’alor back and then locked blades with Darth Nequam.

“I am Commander Tal Ordo,” the Mandalorian Knight spoke with force, pushing the twi’lek back from the sword lock. “And you will have to kill me before you touch my Mand’alor.”
Darth Nequam spat on the floor. “You will die like the rest.”

The twi’lek spun forward, forcing the Mandalorian Knight on the defensive. A flurry of crimson blades assaulted Ordo as he slowly moved backward, deflecting each of Nequam’s attacks. Ordo then caught Nequam in another sword lock, using the opportunity to headbutt the twi’lek hard with his helmet. Darth Nequam stumbled back, stars clouding his vision. In the split second it took for him to recover his senses, he jumped back from the blue blade about to end him. Instead it sliced through his lightsaber hilt, cutting through it completely, and eliminating one of the crimson blades.

Upon realizing the Mandalorian’s transgression, Nequam roared in anger and embarrassment. He rushed at Ordo again, channeling his wrath in every strike against the Mandalorian. Commander Ordo deflected the onslaught, before attacking back at the twi’lek. The two danced with their swords back and forth. Nequam felt his emperor’s eyes judging his every movement. This was Nequam’s moment.

Nequam blocked another one of Ordo’s attacks before kicking the Mandalorian in the chest. He then spun and slashed at the Mandalorian as he stumbled back. His crimson blade cut through the Mandalorian’s armor and left a black gouge diagonally down the warrior’s chest. Ordo fell on his back, silent in his painful defeat.

Nequam yelled in victory. “You are no match for my power!” he gloated at the fallen Mandalorian. Nequam then turned to his emperor, who would surely reward his efforts with some sort of approval. That approval never came.

With a sudden explosion from her thruster pack, Mand’alor sprung into action, launching herself at Nequam. Nequam turned as he heard her approach, but he was too late to deflect her attack. A lightsaber blade blacker than the depths of space, wreathed in white light, sprung from the hilt she held. Nequam screamed in agony as Mand’alor lopped off his arm. She then swiped again at the unarmed Sith, leaving two charred cuts in the twi’lek’s hips. Darth Nequam fell backward, writhing in pain.

“Master!” Nequam cried, “Save me!”
“You are not fit to be in my service,” Mallus replied, never diverting his attention from Mand’alor.

“You will receive no mercy from me, hut’uun.” Mand’alor spoke calmly. Behind her, Commander Ordo struggled to his feet, his suit’s auto bacta-foam closing the wound on his chest.

Nequam watched helplessly as Mand’alor pulled a blaster pistol from her hip. There was a flash of green light, and then nothing.

[Mr. Blue]

The twi’lek slumped to the floor, and a wisp of smoke wafted from the hole in his head. Mand’alor stole a glance behind her. Tal was injured, but at least he was still alive. All but one of the twenty officers aboard her flagship had died to this emperor. He had produced more casualties this day than most armies could against the might of the Mandalorians. Now it was up to Mand’alor to bring an end to the bloodthirsty tyrant. The plan was already in motion. They just needed the signal.

“Your plan won’t work,” the emperor’s words stabbed the Mand’alor in the heart.
“I do not fear you, dar’jetii,” Mand’alor replied, masking her nervousness with aggression.
A dark laughter rumbled from beneath the emperor’s mask. “Even now, your thoughts betray you.”
“This is your final hour, Mallus,” Mand’alor threatened, as she reactivated her black lightsaber.
The emperor chuckled. “Your use of that sword is highly amusing, considering its history. You defend the Jedi with a weapon stolen from their very temple. Generals before you have boasted about the Jetiise blood spilled upon its black blade.”
Mand’alor sneered at the Sith’s use of Mando’a. “How dare you speak in our tongue!”
“I rather hope I get to examine that gorgeous jetii’kad soon,” Mallus ignored the Mand’alor’s comment.
“I will die before you touch this sword,” Mand’alor held her lightsaber in front of her, ready for battle.
“Well,” Mallus mused, as he retrieved his own lightsaber from his belt and activated its orange blade, “that sounds absolutely perfect.”

The two dashed forward, as the crashing of their lightsabers clamored throughout the bridge. The Mand’alor was skilled with a lightsaber. She had been trained under the Mandalorian Knights in her youth, but had abandoned her allegiance to the Knights when her father, the former Mand’alor, had died. The Jedi training provided by the Mandalorian Knights combined with traditional Mandalorian battle training had made her a formidable foe against any enemy, Force-user or not. Mallus, however, was proving to be better than she had ever imagined.

The two continued their furious attacks against each other, Mallus taking every opportunity to push the Mand’alor back toward her injured comrade. Tal Ordo had taken to struggling around the bridge, his lightsaber drawn, avoiding some of Mallus’s off-hand lightning attacks. It was clear that Ordo posed no threat to Mallus, and the Mand’alor was sure the Sith was toying with the commander in order to exasperate her.

Mand’alor heard a sigh emit from the Kel Dor’s mask as the emperor jumped back. As soon as he landed a few feet away, he deactivated his sword and unleashed a furious storm of red lightning at the Mand’alor and Ordo. Both Mandalorians held their swords up, absorbing as much of the attack as they could with their lightsabers. Mallus’s laughter bellowed from behind his mask as he intensified the attack. Both Mandalorians strained to keep the lightning from overwhelming them.

Tal Ordo dropped to one knee. He had to be enduring a large amount of agony with the wound across his chest. Without warning, a sharp whine squealed from his lightsaber hilt followed by a blinding explosion of blue light. Ordo was flung backward and smashed into the viewport. Mallus ceased his onslaught and glared at the Mand’alor from behind his mask. Behind her T-shaped visor, her eyes beamed right back.

“I must say,” Mallus spoke again, “you’re far less incompetent than most of the imbeciles I eliminate. It’s hard to believe you’re the offspring of that idiot, Mand’alor the Fool.”

Mand’alor the Fool had been an unofficial name bestowed upon the Mand’alor’s father by his political enemies several years prior, when Mallus had first gained control of the Sith Empire, and had proceeded to conquer half of the Mandalorian Sector. It had taken several years for the Mandalorians to recover from the vicious assault, and severe damage had been done to the former Mand’alor’s reputation as a general.

“How dare you,” her voice was quiet and vengeful.
Mallus laughed. “I’m glad you were his successor. It will make my job far easier in bringing the Mandalorian Sector into my empire.”
Rage filled the Mand’alor, but she remained silent, waiting for the emperor to make a move.
“At least you’re fighting before your death,” Mallus continued. “I heard your father begged for his life before my assassin executed him.”
“So it was you,” Mand’alor spoke again, retaining her calm demeanor. She would not allow the emperor to win this fight.
“It has always been me!” Mallus roared, his voice shifting from an evil trickster to the dark tyrant he truly was. “This galaxy, the Force, your very life, all of it is mine to control! Under my command, species are eradicated, systems are eliminated, and worlds are razed. You think the lowly Mand’alor escapes my grasp?!”
“You are a fool, Mallus. You cannot control the galaxy, nor will you control me.”
A groan sounded from Tal Ordo, who was regaining consciousness.
“We shall see,” Mallus laughed again.

Mallus unleashed another storm of red lightning, which wrapped around the fallen Commander Ordo. The Mandalorian yelled in pain as the attack penetrated the weakened dampeners on his armor. Mallus cackled as he continued torturing the warrior.

“Stop, now, Mallus!” the Mand’alor ordered, taking a step toward the emperor.
Mallus ended his attack, leaving Tal Ordo smoking and groaning in pain. “Already, Mand’alor, you have proven me correct.”

Mallus seized his lightsaber and launched himself at the Mand’alor. Her quick reflexes allowed her to barely block the first attack, as the two locked swords for a moment before another furious storm of lightsabers crashed together. It took all of the Mand’alor’s effort to block the emperor’s vicious attacks. He was winning this fight. All she could do was hope she could hold out long enough.

“Mand’alor,” a voice crackled to life over her comm in her helmet. “If you are still alive, now is the time.”

Mand’alor had never been so pleased to hear Nissek’s voice in her entire life. She pushed away another of the emperor’s attacks and triggered the flamethrower on her left arm, forcing the Sith back a few steps as she used her thrusters to get back to Commander Ordo. She quickly retrieved a cylinder from his belt, rushing to beat the perturbed emperor’s counterattack. She pressed the button on the end of the small cylinder, and was slammed into by a deafening explosion. Fire erupted from the thermal detonators placed all around the bridge, but was extinguished immediately as the bridge was opened up to the vacuum of space.

Floating half a kilometer above the bridge was a Mandalorian freighter, piloted by Nissek. Mand’alor looked to her right, finding Commander Ordo floating not far away. The Mand’alor hoped the commander’s bacta-foam had sealed his suit before the explosion. She used her thrusters to get to him, and scooped him up before heading toward the freighter. She could not find any sign of Mallus.

The loading ramp of the freighter was open, and the Mand’alor rocketed toward it quickly, trying to get on board before her air supply ran out. Suddenly a hand wrapped around her boot, and the Mand’alor released Ordo in order to deflect the orange lightsaber about to cut her in half. Mallus was alive, and covered with burns from the thermal detonators.

As she deflected the attack with her own lightsaber, the emperor swung the Mandalor around, using the Force and centripetal force to throw her back at the Falcata and away from Nissek’s freighter. She flew several meters before smashing into the hull of the capital ship. Mallus followed at the terrifying pace, attacking the Mand’alor with his lightsaber. The Mand’alor fired her rocket pack again, trying to get back to the freighter, but Mallus jumped after her, grabbing hold of her and whipping her into the Falcata again. She began to grow worried as she watched cracks starting to form on her visor. She also watched her oxygen levels begin to plummet as the air supply of her armor began to dwindle.

Mallus chased after her again, and soon they clashed lightsabers on the hull of the Falcata. Mallus attacked fiercely as the Mandalorian began to slow, the lack of oxygen starting to affect her. She blocked another attack, locking swords with the emperor, and was forced to her knees. Mallus kicked her in the face, widening the cracks on her visor and sending her flying back. The Mand’alor shoved her black lightsaber into the hull of the capitol ship, effectively slowing her self down. Mallus launched forward, chasing after her, when an explosion of red turbolaser fire erupted from beneath him. A couple hundred meters away, the freighter flew by, raining fire down upon the emperor. The attack was vicious, and when the debris cleared, the only sign of Mallus was a floating cylinder. The Mand’alor activated her thrusters again, grabbing the emperor’s lightsaber hilt and rocketed toward Nissek’s freighter.

As the cargo bay of the freighter pressurized, the Mand’alor ripped off her helmet and inhaled sharply, welcoming the oxygen into her lungs. She headed toward the cockpit of the ship, noting that Tal was still alive when she passed the makeshift infirmary made in one of the living quarters.

“Su cuy'gar?” Nissek greeted the Mand’alor. So you’re still alive?
She laughed, “Only barely.”
“I can’t find him on my scanners. I unloaded all the turbolaser fire on him I could, though. I can’t imagine there’s much left of him.”
“And I don’t think he’d leave this,” she said, holding up the emperor’s lightsaber, “without a fight.”
This was one of the very few times the Mand’alor had ever seen Nissek smile.
“Open a channel,” the Mand’alor continued. “All known Sith frequencies.”
Nissek nodded, and after pressing a few buttons, he pointed at the Mand’alor.

“Attention all Sith vessels!” She began. “This is the Mand’alor. Surrender immediately. Your loss is imminent. If you surrender now, we shall be merciful. Do not test us.”
The Mand’alor paused for a moment.
“We have destroyed your emperor!” she triumphantly declared, activating the iconic orange lightsaber as proof. “You have two minutes to declare your surrender. Mand’alor out.”

Nissek closed the channel and spoke again. “Looks like they’re all getting in position to go into hyperspace.”
“Cowards. Send out an order for all of our ships to attack any fleeing vessels. Do as much damage as you can before they escape.”
Nissek nodded again, following through on the orders as the Mand’alor exited the cockpit and headed back to the living quarters of the freighter.



Mallus coughed, his mask pumping air back into him as he stumbled into the halls of the Falcata. He had barely survived the turbolaser fire, but he had been knocked unconscious for a few moments; long enough for the Mand’alor to escape. He did not worry. He would have another opportunity very soon. His only qualm was that the Mandalorian bitch had taken his lightsaber. His perfect lightsaber. She would pay dearly for her thievery.

Mallus felt the Falcata groaning as it fell from its orbit. The explosion on the bridge had undoubtedly crippled the ship completely, and it would only be minutes before the capital ship collided with the forest moon of Yavin. Mallus dashed to the escape pods, noting the remarkable incompetence of the Mandalorians as he found three pods still in the escape pod bay. He loaded himself into one, activating the launch sequence as the Falcata broke through Yavin 4’s atmosphere. The pod launched from the ship, and sped toward the forest below. Mallus was sure he would land several kilometers from any settled area of the moon. He would have plenty of time to hide before the Mandalorians realized he was still alive, and by then they would provide an excellent escape route.