The Force Wills - Chapter 32 (Patreon)

For the Duchess of Mandalore to travel anywhere was not just a matter of getting in a shuttle and going. There were protocols to be followed even on short notice trips such as this. Her security detail arranged and briefed, her shuttle had to be serviced and triple inspected. She had to empower the Prime Minister to rule in her stead and last of all, get appropriately dressed.

Mandalorians and Satine had a much more practical side when it came to travel fashion. Gone was her headdress, showing that her actual hair only came to her neck. Her elaborate dress was traded for purple leggings, boots and a violet jacket-blouse combination that flared around her hips. It also showed a fair bit of cleavage but didn’t go overboard with it. All together this made for a very attractive woman combined with a charisma that turned heads wherever she went.

At last after nearly five hours of arrangement and well into the local afternoon, we were boarding a rather ordinary looking large shuttle with Satine and a five man Royal guard escort. It had a long central fuselage with swept tilting wings which also contained the main engines. They also doubled as landing skids for the shuttle to settle on when the wings were tilted to ninety degrees vertical.

We settled in comfortable seats in the rear of the expansive cockpit and it was the only bit of luxury that you could actually point to on the shuttle.

The ship lifted off and after folding its wings into flight configuration, shot itself through the air and left the city of Sundari behind rapidly, climbing into sky and fighting to escape the gravity well.

“Duchess, this is a MandalMotors built craft?” I asked with honest curiosity.

“Yes, this is my personal Aka’jor class shuttle,” she confirmed. “Why do you ask?”

“Starships are a hobby of mine, you could say,” I answered with a partial deflection. “I’m also surprised that it’s not more… well appointed.”

“As leader of Mandalore I am afforded certain comforts, but only so I can better focus on serving the people. I do not indulge in wealth.” Her tone was slightly frosty as she spoke.

“My surprise is a pleasant one, duchess. Your example is something many royal lineages or leaders across the galaxy could strive to emulate.”

“Oh, I see,” she slightly bowed her head in acknowledgment of the compliment.

MandalMotors was a starship manufacturer I had investigated in the past, whilst searching for a choice of personal starfighter and other ships I might need. Their Fang fighter was especially impressive, but cost, logistical issues with spare parts and excessive maintenance time had nixed the idea of acquiring it. Their Lancer-class pursuit craft though, was something I was very interested in getting, as it would be a perfect, well armed Winnebago type ship. The only downside was the current hyperdrive mounted on the stock version, a Class 2. No ship I bought would be that slow through hyperspace, so research on whether it could be upgraded needed to be done.

The short journey to the moon only took six minutes once we breached Mandalore’s atmosphere.

“How are your efforts on Concordia faring?” Obi-Wan asked as the habitable moon grew to completely fill the forward viewport.

“Relatively well,” Satine answered. “We’ve been closing and filling surplus mines. Their only function was to fuel the war machine of the various clans during the civil war. The sheer number of them threatened to destroy our forests, they’re finally growing back with the occasional helping hand from our bioscience teams.”

We could soon see for ourselves what she meant as the shuttle descended through the Concordian atmosphere towards the primary settlement on the moon.

Native grass and trees were making a comeback all across the landscape, but the scars of industry and deforestation were also still visible. Concordia was also a relatively rocky place, with extensive mountain ranges and valleys. The valleys themselves could boast a number of different ecologies and it reminded me of Greece, if you had stretched the country across an entire ‘moon’ and given it an ocean or two.

The main settlement was a concentrated and tall affair. It was almost as if they had sliced out a piece of a city and dumped it on the edge of a major valley. It made sense that they wanted to limit population on the moon if they wanted to maximize agricultural food production for the entire system. The cramped living conditions when you had so much space outside must also be rather irksome to endure.

The shuttle approached an officious looking skyscraper and inserted itself into a large hangar bay on the ground floor before landing.

Exiting the Aka’jor class shuttle was done via a lift due to the main fuselage’s height off the pad when in its landing configuration. It was handy but the issue of what happened when the lift was broken was a problem with a solution that wasn’t immediately visible to me.

Not a few meters away and ready to meet us was a man of average height in a boring gray uniform. He was rather striking in that his cheekbones could give Satine’s a run for her money in their prominence. His light blonde hair was slicked back, with a cunning set of light blue eyes and he had a stocky build. If it wasn’t for the latter, I’d have assumed the man was some sort of relation to the duchess. He was also escorted by two helmeted security officers in a similar uniform, though they were armed with beskar riot shields and stun prods.

“Duchess Satine,” he declared with a steady, formal voice. “You are most welcome.” He bowed his head slightly to her.

“Thank you, Governor Vizsla. May I present Master Obi-wan Kenobi and Padawan Ahsoka Tano, representing the Jedi Council,” she said with a gracious smile to the governor. We both bowed in Jedi custom. “Governor Vizsla is one of the officials I spoke of. He’s been working to find the members of the Death Watch.”

“I take it you’ve heard the rumors about Duchess Satine? About how she’s supposedly leading Mandalore into an alliance with the Separatists.” Vizsla's dry tone spoke of how he regarded those rumors.

“Our only instructions are to seek the truth, governor,” Obi-wan declared honestly.

“I hope so, Master Jedi. I’ve learned that you captured the Death Watch bomber and he’s Concordian?”

“Yes, he’s in holding in Sundari on suicide watch, we’ve been unable to get him to talk,” Satine explained delicately.

“That is a pity, he’ll undoubtedly be able to shed a lot of light on Death Watch operations.”

“We’ve matched his DNA to the Concordian registry, his name is Gallod Pirn,” Satine stepped forward to hand over a datapad. “By all appearances he was just a farmer for most of his life. He fought in the civil war as a young man, but has led a blame free life since the Universal Amnesty was declared.”

“And now suddenly he decides to travel to Mandalore, bomb the Memorial Shrine and kills more than a dozen people, spouting Death Watch propaganda,” Vizsla sighed as he swiped through the records on the datapad.

“That does seem rather odd,” agreed Obi-Wan. “Ahsoka, did you get a good read on him?”

“Gallod Pirn’s mind is not that of a sedentary farmer,” I said with certainty, meeting the eyes of Vizsla. “He was absolutely dedicated to ending his own life and was at peace with what he was doing. I sensed no remorse that he had just killed many of his fellow Mandalorians.”

The governor looked at me with narrowed eyes, “You were close enough to him for that?”

“I’m the one who apprehended him in the end, yes, despite his attempts to kill himself.”

“Interesting, though from what little I’ve learned of Death Watch so far that doesn’t surprise me as much. They clearly know how to avoid attention when it suits them. Pirn might be a farmer by day, but Death Watch by night and their level of indoctrination must be high indeed for him to be so fanatical.” Vizsla pocketed the datapad. “Very well, if you’ll pardon me, Duchess Satine, General Kenobi, I will go and send a message to his family.”

He bowed slightly to us and walked off with his two security guards.

Obi-wan visibly waited until the governor was well out of earshot, “Ahsoka, I understand you’ve gained a proficiency for infiltration?”

“Yes, Master Skywalker and I find it often more efficient to assault Separatist outposts by a combination of sabotage and external attack. I’m smaller, so naturally I do the former part.”

“Good, when we were on approach I noticed we passed a closed mine about forty kilometers west of here, reconnoiter and determine if it’s actually closed. If you run into trouble, call. The duchess and I will do the boring bit and keep the governor occupied at dinner.”

“And your excuse for her absence, Obi-wan?” Satine asked pointedly.

“The war has been a trying time for everyone, Ahsoka has unfortunately been neglecting her meditation as a result and went somewhere quiet to catch up,” Obi-wan answered with a mild smirk.

“It shall be done, master,” I bowed slightly.

“Padawan, remember, you are here under my protection, please try not to cause problems,” Satine said earnestly.

“I shall do my utmost, duchess. In the spirit of that request, I assume I can borrow one of those swoops?” I pointed at the line of ‘hoverbikes’ at one end of the hangar.

“You may, with the understanding that it is to be returned undamaged.”

I bowed a final time in thanks before running off towards the speeders.

I used technometry to give the swoop an examination and found nothing wrong, though it did have a location transponder currently inactive. That unfortunately had to go, so with a twist of will, it shorted out. Sorry Satine.

I mounted the bike, a few taps of the small panel between the handlebar controls and it whined to life, floating off the ground. I’d always wondered what these bikes were called - it was naturally a MandalMotors product with the trademark name of ‘Balutar’ stenciled on its front in both Basic and Mando’a.

My hands twisted the handlebars to bring it around, facing the hangar exit, then gunned the throttle with my right foot.

The thrill of speed and power shot through me as the world turned to a blur of speed.

The Balutar only had a top speed of 400kmh, so was slower than the 74-Z that the clones used. It wasn’t armed naturally and had civilian comforts, including an onboard navigation system, radio, and a way more comfortable seat. Its forward air shield was also much larger, intended to allow for a person to use the swoop even in their Sunday best.

After a bit of indulgence in experimenting with the speed, acceleration and handling, I turned the swoop west and gunned the throttle.

My comlink buzzed for attention.

“Yes, Skyguy?”

“Going somewhere Snips?”

“Yes, I need you to give me a pinpoint passive scan and location on a mine west of my position, 40km, Obi-wan wants me to infiltrate.”

Another nice thing about the big angled air shield, we could have this conversation easily.

“Give a sec… okay got it. Sending precise coordinates to your armor. Passives show… sixty lifesigns, in an open-cast mine. Five modular buildings. Open sight lines, not a lot of hiding places. The underground section of the mine is going to be easier. What are we looking for here?”

“Evidence, whether this is Death Watch or… possibly stopping a renewed civil war before it can begin.”

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The swoop was pulled to a stop two kilometers from the mine. The area was extremely rocky and the path ahead was worn down enough that it made going further on foot less treacherous. Anakin had detected no active scanning emissions from the mine, which meant I was clear to use my own life sign scrambler in its safer low power mode.

We had to do a bit of guesswork on what possible systems modern Mando armor featured for detection and electronic warfare, but figured that it was best to assume the worst.

This was why it took nearly forty minutes to cover the remaining distance to the mine, using my technometry and armor’s passive scanners to detect any form of early warning system. That diligence paid off when we found motion sensors dotting the path towards the entrance. Spoofing them took a few seconds of extra work by HK finding their high frequency emissions and hijacking the signal through my armor’s systems so that they didn’t register the frequency shift that my physical presence caused.

The main door to the mine was set in the rocky edge of the deep open-cast mine. It was firmly shut with every sign of disuse and lack of maintenance that you could imagine. The area around it was strewn with empty, rusty ore containers, weathered spent fuel cell casings and more. Not even a single footprint on the dusty ground. Either the Death Watch didn’t use this entrance at all or they were very careful in policing signs of its use.

Naturally, the thing that gave it all away, to my senses, was the fact that the control panel of the door was still functional with internal power, even though it looked like it was wrecked, with its frontage hanging loose and only kept in place by cabling. There were no other sensors in play on the door itself, beyond the fact that if it opened, it would send a signal.

I could sense two lifesigns beyond the door, keeping a watch on the entrance to the mine. Their minds were utterly bored but they were keeping an admirably attentive awareness of their surroundings.

Then I took the last few silent steps and knelt in front of the door and considered my approach, including taking a brief reading of prescience.

It would be the easiest thing in the world to just sit here and Force Sleep the entire place.

That did nothing to stop the future civil war.

The Death Watch members in the crater were but a symptom of the problem.

I took a deep breath as the enormity of it settled on my shoulders.

I wanted to curse up a storm and scream to the universe, the Force, everything and everyone at the fucking unfairness of it all. I wanted to grab Satine, Almec, Vizsla, every stinking politician, the majority of the Mandalorian clans and slap sense into them all.

My anger at the probability line before me… I cast it off, let it pass through me and shook off its chains.

My control restored, I was glad to note it hadn’t got so bad that I’d manifested spontaneous TK around me.

The narrow path it would have to be.

I reached out with the Force, and cast only the two sentries into slumberland.

Then rose to my feet and thumbed the door controls.

They opened with a well oiled metallic whine.

Beyond was a long, roughly hewn circular tunnel with track lines running down the middle and dimly lit light emitters dotting the ceiling.

I didn’t come all this way to be sloppy now, so continued my careful sneaky approach along the tracks, hugging the wall as best I could, scanning, sensing.

The tunnel opened into an underground processing facility for the ore that had been mined, including tractor conveyor belts, feeding to crushing and grinding machines. Far from being deactivated and in mothballs, everything still looked active enough that I could imagine it all being powered up within moments. There was no dust and the overhead lighting was bright enough that I wondered how this place was getting its power without being detected. The answer was Governor Vizsla, of course.

I wonder how many more mines he had in this fake decommissioned state on Concordia.

Then I found the two sentries.

Both were hidden in corners of the room naturally cast in darkness by the current lighting setup. They had further hidden themselves inside a large ore carry casket, covered with a tarp. Inside this hiding place were a few comforts to make their watch duties bearable, a flask of water, ration packs, even a pack of Sabacc cards.

I had to resort to a bit of levitation since they were so heavy. Their armor was generally colored in a dark gray or black with blue trimming and were definitely beskar. They even had the full jetpacks with integrated, single shot, homing missile launcher, though there was no missile here. It would’ve been very annoying fitting in such a confined space with an armed launcher.

Then I pulled off the helmet of the guy with a mental apology, found the logic port for the helmet’s own systems, then interfaced it with my armor.

“HK,” I softly prompted.

“Statement: Interfacing, slicing the system, bypassing pathetic cyberware defenses. Reporting: The current Mandalorian armor is reasonably advanced, master. Visor is capable of multimode vision; infrared, natural amplification. No lifesign sensors. Advanced targeting matrix for the missile, encrypted radio system with filtering and command capabilities. Flight controls for jetpack weaved into undersuit. It’s capable of void fighting but the life support system doesn’t have much longevity, Master. There is also a biometric system which does report the wearer’s vital signs, though it only triggers upon death, reporting it to the nearest compatible armor set in range.”

I unplugged the logic probe and stuffed the helmet back on the snoozing Mando, renewing the Force Sleep, then continued my careful survey of the room.

This let me find that this place also doubled as a storage for more armor sets. There was a rack with a long line of helmets and armed jetpacks, which meant that though the body of the armor had to be personalized to the wearer, the rest of it had enough modularity to be functionally interchangeable. If your jetpack went on the fritz, you could just as easily replace it with either a new one or take it off a fallen comrade.

Nevertheless, it was all made of beskar.

It wouldn’t be long until these sleepy sentries missed their check in time.

I hurried back to the entrance tunnel and regarded the structure for a moment, where it was braced, wondering just how much tonnage of rock it was holding up.

Point of no return.

“Shit.”

Reaching out with the Force I carefully felt for what I needed… there.

The earth began to rumble and groan.

I felt the shockwaves through my feet and montrals.

Then with an almighty crash a large section of the tunnel roughly ten meters away from me collapsed in on itself.

It kicked up dust something fierce and the earth rumbled, smaller rocks and pebbles crackling against each other and echoing through the remaining tunnel.

I kept my guard and strength up, wary that more of it would collapse, but thankfully after a minute of careful sensing and waiting… it held.

No more coming and going from this end.

Returning to the processing room, I ambled through it, double checked the sentries and walked to the other end, which held an elevator that carried cargo and people to the upper level surface of the open cast mine.

The car was currently at my level, nice.

“Snips, what was that?”

Anakin had naturally felt that rather extensive usage of the Force, as had Obi-Wan.

“That was me creating a gauntlet, Skyguy.”

I brought both my lightsabers to hand and began limbering up my body.

“Snips, what are you talking about?”

“I’m currently standing in a room filled with beskar plated helmet armor and jetpacks, including two full sets of armor, currently worn by the Deathwatch guard sentries, who are having an extended nap. The only way they are getting it back is to go through me via the elevator.”

“What?! Snips, are you insane?!”

“Possibly… but this is the way. The only way.”

“Snips… what… are you…”

“I’m not suicidal, Skyguy. If you do your part then there’s a good chance I won’t die.”

Anakin began swearing in Huttese, though not at me. After he had vented his frustration, “The explanation for this better be good, Ahsoka.”

“It will, Skyguy. I will broadcast a signal to you, at that point you redline the Pilgrim’s engines and airdrop onto the mine to support me. At that point you and HK can go nuts, I’d appreciate it if you somewhat tried to limit the body count though, wound only. Oh and do tell Obi-Wan not to worry if the governor suddenly has to leave.”

The elevator doors closed abruptly in front of me and the car zoomed up the shaft.

“I will and we’ll be waiting.”

The elevator stopped on its upper level.

I sensed a single Deathwatch member climb in and press the button to descend.

It was a gravitic system, decently fast, though was not built to military base standards of robustness. I was going to have to watch that no collateral damage hit it.

The car arrived with a rather rough grating and clanking noise, before thumping heavily into its slot.

The door opened.

The armored Mando inside was somewhat suitably surprised by presence, even though he was slightly more alert due to the missed check-in time of his comrades. His hand was near his holstered blaster at least, but even the most thorough training and discipline cannot compensate for inflicting true surprise on a person at seeing the unexpected.

“Hello,” I smiled, waving at him and speaking in my best cutesy voice. This naturally brought my lightsabers to his attention.

His blaster was drawn in the next instant. Good reflexes, I internally nodded in approval.

We were separated by barely five meters and it was a nice challenge.

His blaster fired as fast he could pull the trigger, aiming right for my face and neck.

My right blade deflected the first shot up into the ceiling, the next met my left blade and sent the shot directly into the Mando’s boot. It naturally didn’t penetrate the beskar plate there.

I stepped forward with each deflection, advancing, until the Mando suddenly dropped his blaster and jumped forward to meet me.

He blocked my left blade with his beskar plated forearm, fended off my right in a similar manner and tried to knee me in the stomach. I had to wonder a bit at his thinking. I was armored just as much as he was, it wasn’t beskar but it did the job. Perhaps just trying to stun me to grapple?

I simply outmatched him in speed, twisted at the last moment to avoid his knee, stepped past him in a blur, brought my right blade around and cut right through the lower gap of his leg armor, severing his Achilles tendon.

He simply fell forward and collapsed to the ground, screaming in pain.

I knelt next to him and reached out with the Force, nullifying and soothing the signals of pain coming from his leg, then pushed him into a Sleep. That little trick was a common thing in the Halls of Healing I’d picked up in the past.

Then I pulled him out of the line of fire to join his snoozing comrades in the corner of the room.

Returning to the elevator, I picked up the dropped blaster pistol and examined the rather sleek thing. It was a WESTAR-34, made by Concordian Crescent Technologies, just like the one Jango Fett had used. Its trigger guard and weight felt just right to do all those fancy twirling on your finger tricks. Not to mention its handle safety sensor would prevent the gun from going off while you did it. Nevertheless, it was still a very nice and deadly blaster, with a nasty fire rate.

I had been and still was a bit of a gun nut, though only in theory in my previous life as the opportunity and the disposable funds just hadn’t been there to justify it. The local laws had made it a pain in the ass as well, though not impossible. I didn’t have much use for them as a Jedi either, beyond the odd bit of improvisation.

This particular one would serve another purpose now.

I stepped forward into the elevator and put down the pistol in the center where it was nice and visible, stepped back outside and sent the car to the upper level.

The sound of the shots wouldn’t have carried all the way up and nobody had been killed, so no one upstairs was actually aware yet something was wrong. So I needed to send an invitation of sorts.

It took another seven minutes by my chrono before someone began to get worried about why the person who had been sent to check on the negligent sentries hadn’t reported back.

Then they at last spotted the blaster pistol in the elevator. The Mando was rather confused at first, then alarmed. No Death Watch member would ever negligently just drop their blaster like that, after all. Being armed at all times was effectively a part of their religion or their way of life.

It didn't take a further minute before this Mando was joined by three more.

They talked and judging by their emotions, it seemed my invitation at last was getting through to them.

All four entered the elevator and started to descend.

No more screwing around.

I lit both my blades from the outset and settled into a Shien stance of the fifth form adapted to Jar Kai, with my right blade in a reverse grip and low, whilst my left blade was held forward and vertical.

The doors opened and the Mandos didn’t take more than a second to comprehend the situation, raised their blaster carbines and opened fire.

HK wouldn’t be impressed.

My blades made the most economical movements I could manage whilst keeping their flow, deflecting the blasts and dodging.

I kept it going for nearly two seconds before I found my rhythm and sent the next two defections straight for the heads of the left two Mandos.

The dull yellow blaster bolts slammed home right on the thin vision slits of their helmets. That wasn’t beskar, but a thin transparisteel meant for vision and their HUD display. Both Mando’s heads were slammed back with impact and they fell back, barely keeping their balance. That hadn’t killed them, but they were both blinded and their helmet’s vision slits were wrecked.

The slacking of fire left me free to throw a Force Push outward that caught all four.

It slammed them hard against the elevator car’s back wall, enough that they lost the breath out of their lungs, before collapsing and slumping to the floor. They managed to barely keep a hold of their carbines, but lost that battle when I ripped them away with TK.

Then one recovered enough to bring his arm up and from the floor tried to flame me with the wrist mounted flamethrowers some of them seemed to have.

A blurring dodge, whilst throwing a slight nudge of TK took care of that problem, as his arm was knocked to the side and he ended up flaming his own buddies.

Naturally, this did nothing to the beskar armor or even the underarmor body gloves. It was, however, a wonderful attack on the mind. No amount of training and knowledge helped the instinctual fear of fire and being set on fire, unless it was your absolute profession as a stuntman and even those guys would admit that it never truly left them.

So there were screams and flailing for a few precious seconds before the Mando with the flamethrower thought to shut it off.

But I was already there, standing over them and my blades hummed and sang through the air. It was pretty hot among the dying out flames, but my armor kept me nice and comfortable.

Two Achilles tendons and two cut rear knee muscles later and their world went from flame to pain.

Then the same process of deadening their nerves, before rendering them to la-la land.

I quickly pulled them out of the lift and kept the ‘Open Doors’ button depressed with a minor bit of TK.

The radios of these four were active and broadcasting, the remaining 53 Mandos up there would deduce soon enough these four had failed.

I chose one of the four and pulled him aside, propping him up against the side of the long conveyor. Then reversed the Force Sleep.

He jerked awake and in the process jolted his injured leg. He gave a brief scream before I reinforced the soothing of the nerves down there.

“Good afternoon, to whom do I have the honor of speaking?”

“Argh…I’m… not telling you Jedi…”

“Come now, the niceties must be observed,” I slightly reversed a bit of the nerve soothing.

“Ahhh… nothing…”

“Yes, that was rather clumsy of me. Never mind, I don’t need your name. I just need you to send a message to the Death Watch’s leader.”

“I’m not going… to send anything.”

I chuckled, “Please, I know your armor’s com system is on and your fellows up there are listening. They have to get some intel after I defeated seven of you so far. So again, I want to speak to your leader…” I infused my voice with the Force. He wouldn’t be mind tricked, he was too strong willed for that, but will doesn’t matter when you go around the problem by working with the mind instead, his injury and latent pain also helped my suggestion break through. I could also tell this one wasn’t as fanatical as the bomber. His thoughts also immediately became anguished in a way… yes, he wanted to live for someone.

The Mando looked to his fellows for a brief moment before nodding at me.

He began to lift one of his arms but I stopped him immediately. “Ah ah, no tricks. Arms pointed that way. I could swat those darts out of the air before you could blink.” He grumbled and slowly lifted his left arm with the wrist and hand pointed to his right. He tapped on his gauntlet and began switching his radio channel. “Oh, do keep a subchannel open to your fellows, I want everyone to hear this, and I can hear everything you say in that helmet of yours, one of the perks of being a Togruta.”

He stared at me for a moment behind his helmet and I could feel his confusion, clearly wondering what my game was.

I could feel through the Force the instant the channel opened, as I had a little bubble of perception available to me far away back in the main Concordian settlement, in addition to everyone in the open cast mine.

“Yes, Togai, what is it?” spoke the voice of Governor Pre Vizsla.

“Leader, there… is a Jedi who wants to speak to you.”

There was silence for a long moment. I could perceive Vizsla's surprise, fear and slowly blossoming anger. He was careful to hold it in though, he was in a room with Satine and Obi-Wan at the moment, though he was taking the call through a compad and he was out of earshot.

“One moment,” Vizsla hissed. Then turned to his two guests, “I’m sorry, duchess, general, a minor emergency has arisen that I need to attend to.”

“Oh, nothing too bad I hope. Something I can help with, governor?” Obi-wan enquired politely.

“No, no, nothing that we can’t handle, just a small accident at one of the mines we’re still sealing up.”

He hurriedly left the room and into an adjoining office. “Togai, is she there with you?” Vizsla's voice suddenly had a modulation to it. Oh, still hoping to keep your actual identity hidden are you?

I nodded that he could answer.

“Yes, Leader.”

I stepped closer and knelt next to Togai, to make sure my voice was cast properly across their network.

“Hello Mr. Death Watch Leader, I am Commander Ahsoka Tano of the Grand Army of the Republic, Padawan of the Jedi Order. I’m here to seek redress for your attack on the Republic Cruiser Trinity, the two dozen deaths amongst her crew and the deaths of innocent Mandalorians in Sundari to a bomb. To that end, I have secured by right of conquest seven full suits of beskar’gam and your entire armory of beskar buy’ce and birgaan. If you wish for them to be returned, you will come forth and face me in a Circle.”

I could feel his anger and internal conflict in the silence that followed my demand. I couldn’t see Togai’s face, but I could feel him looking at me like I’d grown a second head.

Vizsla would ordinarily outright refuse to step into the circle with me. According to Mandalorian tradition in the clans, it usually required that any challenger successfully defeat at least five of the clan’s best before the leader would even consider the challenge. The context of my challenge changed things though; I was an outsider, I was seeking redress from him personally, I also challenged his honor directly by declaring he had given the order to murder innocents with a bomb. It was also interesting to note that Togai had been surprised about my declaration about Sundari being bombed. I was also the ancient enemy -  a Jedi. The final thing that would force his hand to answer my challenge was by claiming the beskar armor from his defeated men.

These armor sets, despite being new, were now highly prized and would be handed down to family and descendants. It was also a central tenet of the Mandalorian Way to always wear armor.

“I- I will answer your challenge… Jedi. Expect me in 15 minutes.”

Vizsla cut the link.

“To all the Mandalorians in the mine, I suggest you not try to use jetpacks to come down here, the elevator car is under my control and I will use it to smash you to pieces in the shaft,” I said quickly, while I had the rest of them on the line.

Togai tapped his gauntlet to shut off the radio, “A challenge has been issued and accepted, no Mandalorian will interfere.”

I shook my head and stood, “If your leader fully lived by the Mandalorian Ways, he’d not have used a bomb on his fellow Mandalorians. He’d not have had a sniper watching the bomber, ready to kill him should he be captured. That he convinced Gallod Pirn to do it at all tells me that even in your Death Watch, you are not united in your interpretation of the Resol’nare.”

Togai visibly flinched, “You know of the Six Tenets?”

“I am a Jedi, Togai. Mandalorians have been crossing blades with the Order for thousands of years. It is prudent and wise to study the ways of one’s enemy, is it not?” I smiled at him knowingly.

He nodded in agreement, “It is.”

I walked towards the elevator, turned and fell into a kneeling meditation pose, keeping tabs on the Mando’s upstairs whilst also subtly encouraging healing in Togai’s leg. I couldn’t do much more than help natural processes at this distance and I knew he wouldn’t want the help if I asked for direct access to his leg.

“Snips, I’d ordinarily say you just decided to poke a krayt dragon in its lair,” Anakin’s thoughts pinged me across our Bond.

“This needs to be done, master.”

“I can see you think so and I’m beginning to see where you’re going with this.”

I merely sent the feeling of acknowledgement and turned my focus to the present, working on getting back to tip-top shape and fortifying myself internally.

About thirteen minutes later I sensed Vizsla entering my passive awareness range and immediately felt the regard of something… else. It was hard to put words in my head to describe the feeling, but I refused to be intimidated by it.

I rose to my feet and pushed a Force Sleep onto Togai, before walking into the elevator and pressing the button.

When the ride up had finished and the doors opened, I was greeted by a phalanx of six Mandos who had encircled the immediate area outside the elevator exit. Their carbines were not raised, but they were in hand.

I could see beyond, into the bowl of the mine, that Vizsla’s own shuttle had landed and he was walking away from it, fully bedecked in his own armor. The only indication of leadership that he had on him, was a small white half-cape that covered his right shoulder, with the symbol of Death Watch in blue on it.

Then I stepped forward a few feet and stopped, folding my arms and drawing my figurative line in the sand.

Vizsla slowly walked the distance, immediately being flanked by three Mandos in escorting positions. My sense of them and their emotions drew a clear picture. More Mandalorians emerged from the various buildings until every single one of them was outside and looking up to watch what happened.

Those who had been guarding the elevator made way and another Mando stepped forward, this one wasn’t wearing the colors of the black and blue Death Guard on her armor, but rather black and gold.

“The battle circle has been declared,” the Mandalorian woman said, her voice being amplified by her armor and I could hear it being broadcasted to every nearby Death Watch member. “The challenger has already announced her grievance. As the defender, Pre Vizsla, state your terms for this duel.”

“One blade only, the Jedi can’t use her Force trickery and it only concludes with kyr’am,” Vizsla sneered.

“Do you agree, Jedi Tano?” the woman asked.

In answer, I unhooked my left lightsaber and tossed it to her, “I agree.”

The referee of the Circle caught my saber easily as if she had been expecting it. That sent a ripple of astonishment through everyone watching as I unlatched my right saber and thumbed it into life. It’s radiant green light washing through the area as the sun was almost set on this latitude of Concordia.

Vizsla pushed his small cloak aside and unlatched it, dropping it into the floor. Then from his back pulled the slim black hilt of a very infamous lightsaber.

The Darksaber burst to life instantly, with an almost soft crystalline hiss. Its blade was a pure black void, with bright white edging and ghostly thin wisps of white light playing across its surface.

I regarded the weapon with no surprise, moving into a fluid stance, my right side facing Vizsla and pointing the blade directly at him.

“Do you even know what you are facing, Jedi or are you too young?” He fell into his own stance and held the Darksaber upright in front of his face. “This lightsaber was stolen from your Jedi Temple by my ancestors during the fall of the Old Republic. Since then, many Jedi have died upon its blade.” He pushed the blade forward into a forward guard position. “Prepare yourself to join them.”

“Be accurate, Pre Vizsla,” I shook my head, taking in every detail of how his body was moving, how he was keeping his posture. Even as he fought to contain his surprise that I knew his true identity. “That blade belonged to Tarre Vizsla, the first Mandalorian to ever be inducted into the Jedi Order, over one thousand years ago. It was kept in the Temple in honor and remembrance of him, had your ancestors had simply asked, it’s likely the Council would have agreed to give it to them. Instead, they skulked in like thieves in the wake of Temple’s sacking by the Sith of the era.”

My blade snapped up and right, blocking Vizla’s slash at my head.

His blade disengaged and in the next moment probed my left side, but I blocked that too and riposted, slapping away the dark blade, taking one step back and to the right - keeping my blade pointed at him.

He took his own step back and was clearly studying me, keeping his right side to me and a guard that kept his saber diagonal, shielding his torso.

Again he attacked, trying to stab the blade into my right lekku.

My blade fended him off, and we moved into a rapid back and forth. I kept intercepting him in the middle ring of defense, and then abruptly stabbed straight for his neck.

It just barely got through, but his backwards step saved his own life and the undersuit of his armor was singed and smoking.

He barely acknowledged it, but I could feel his anger as he almost hopped forward, slashing his blade toward my head but at the last moment, turned to go for my leading right leg.

My blade came up in answer, caught his, I twirled my wrist, redirecting his swing so it went wide. He was left wide open and had to jump back as I brought my blade up and pointed directly at him, keeping my fluid balanced stance.

He took another step back and seemed to lower his guard entirely, walking around me just out of reach.

I kept my defense and blade forward, turning on the spot to keep facing him, then took an abrupt step forward but aborted.

Vizsla flinched slightly and stopped his walk, almost bringing his guard up again, but stopped when he saw I was playing mind games.

He resumed his walk and abruptly charged in with an overhead strike to my head.

I blocked by bringing my blade horizontal, then pulled down to defend left, pushing on the darksaber to catch it briefly in a lock, before twirling my blade to swing his out of the way.

My blade surged forward again into the opening, he had to step back and managed to bring his blade around to fend mine off.

He tried to charge into me, thinking he had managed to open a gap, but my blade was already there and waiting. It was as if I had dropped a wall in front of him.

Vizsla backed off a step, then slashed at my blade to try to move it out of the way.

With a twist of my wrist back and forth, my blade dodged his strike and remained right where it was.

As quickly as he could he tried again, but another precise angling of my blade had him missing it completely.

He flourished his own blade widely in a circle and slashed for my right side.

I blocked him this time in the inner ring of defense, riposted to slash at his now leading right leg. He was forced on the defensive, unable to take advantage of the gap I’d left him, and intercepted my blade low.

I disengaged, controlling the distance, slashed to his head and forced him to block, riposte, counter-attack.

So we moved into a fluid see-sawing of attack and defense. Our competing blades electrically hummed through the night, screaming and flashing as the two blades met rapidly.

I broke the seeming stalemate and dance-like quality of the exchange, by overpowering a low block to move fluidly into an attack, forcing Vizla to jump back from my blade that I was spinning using my wrist action alone into a threatening saw of light.

The instant he lifted his blade to try to stop my sawing action and possibly knock it out of my hand, I fended his probing blade off decisively.

Again he backed off and finally I heard it… a calling… the Darksaber’s calling. Vizsla lowered his blade into a low guard.

He stepped forward, now seeking to attack my montrals. I simply ducked about two inches, brought my lightsaber around, and smacked it into the back of the swishing darksaber’s blade, adding to its kinetic energy.

I twirled my wrist, bringing my blade’s path low and up, seeking to attack his inner thighs where there was no beskar to protect.

He had to hurriedly bring his blade back to defend and he grunted with the effort. Then he had to retreat in a hurry as I took the initiative and attacked his neck and face with left and right slashes whilst advancing forward.

In this exchange I came within inches of stabbing my blade right through the visor of his helmet.

He batted away my blade and only got a respite when I stopped abruptly, falling into a low bridge stance, with my blade held vertical and waiting.

Vizsla paused for a moment, and I could hear his breathing start to noticeably speed up and he made a challenging, “Ha!” Taking his turn to attack and advance.

I stood my ground, deflecting, blocking and riposting every slash, even as he pushed into my inner ring of defense.

Growing frustrated he circled to my left and started slashing at me from there, but I simply turned to face him and continued defending, as he continued wastefully attacking me.

Then I stepped forward, smoothly flowing into attack and pushing him to circle to my right.

My attacks were now aimed at his dueling arm and my blade finally penetrated his defenses to bounce off his gauntlet with an eruption of sparks.

He riposted and tried to bring his blade to my chest, but I turned my body so that it turned to a miss and batted away the darksaber and again brought it down to his head, threatening to stab him through the visor.

He jumped back in retreat, but I stepped forward in pursuit, attacking.

He defended and slashed into another counter-attack

Another back and forth of competing blades.

I stepped back at the last moment, opening the distance so that it forced Vizsla to overextend to try to bring his slashing attack into range.

I blocked it in the left middle ring of defense, pushed into a blade lock, then twirled our blades down. My body moved left and simply using leverage with the joined blades, the darksaber was torn from Vizsla’s grip and landed three meters behind me.

“Stop!” called the refereeing Mando.

My blade’s tip hovered millimeters from Vizsla’s neck.

“This Circle is ky’ram. Jedi Tano, you must allow him to regain his blade.”

I simply nodded and stepped out of the way. Vizsla was absolutely burning with humiliation and frustration as he power walked forward, picked up the darksaber’s hilt and reignited it. He swished it through the air around him and I spotted it again in his body language… how interesting.

He advanced slowly at first, then charged, using his run to bring the darksaber up and over to slash down into a bastardized Falling Avalanche.

I stepped right and deflected it to the side, so it spent its energy on nothing but rocky earth, which sizzled into melting with the passage of the darksaber.

Vizsla lifted his blade, letting out another “Ha!” as he brought it up and over for a slash, which I deflected, then stabbed forward, which he deflected… but it was now clear that he was struggling to keep up.

“The funny thing that most people don’t realize, Vizsla, and the same can be said of even Jedi,” I said as I ducked under a rather wild sideways slash and pushed in to catch him in a blade lock. “If a lightsaber gets old enough, it starts to develop quirks related to its original wielder, some even argue it gains a degree of sapience with enough time.”

I let go of the blade lock and attacked his right side. He blocked and pushed my blade away by holding the darksaber in two hands and advancing his whole body.

This had him for a brief two seconds, exposing his back to me, and he twirled to bring his blade around and slashed at my right side.

The only reason he got away with that was his beskar armor, helmet and combined with how his neck was angled, formed a solid front that my lightsaber wouldn’t be able to penetrate.

I retreated two steps, forcing him to again overextend a slash and I blocked it with my upright blade in the middle ring.

He stepped forward, I took another step back, and abruptly switched my lightsaber to my left hand and attacked his right side.

The change of angle and pace surprised him that he was forced into an awkward block. I twirled my wrist, gaining control of his blade and forced it away and to his left.

I quickly changed my blade back to my right hand and slashed toward his head, but halted my attack into a feint.

Vizsla visibly fell for it, lifting his blade up with effort to try and block for a strike that wasn’t coming.

His blade fell back to a low stance and now I could see how the fatigue was getting him.

I then slashed for his head anyway.

He managed to block and we fell into another set of parries, blocks, slashes and thrusts. His attacks started to subtly lose their composure and form. His slashes to my sides seemed like he was throwing his entire body weight around just to deliver them.

He threw another overhead cut to my head, I caught his blade with mine angled horizontally and took two steps forward hard. It threatened to throw him off-balance and onto his ass, forcing him to retreat.

I stopped only so he wouldn’t blunder into the line of watching Mandalorians.

He growled, advancing forward and swung overhead for me with his blade like a windmill.

I simply stepped out of the way to the left, and kept my side facing him as he circled to my right and swung in for another slash.

I stepped into my block and pushed his blade away.

This left me enough time to switch hands again, and I stabbed forward seeking his inner thigh.

He was forced to almost hop backward to get out of the way and I immediately took the opening, charging into him with my blade horizontally and going for his neck.

He desperately brought his blade vertical just in time.

My momentum forced us into a blade lock.

I had no intention of a strength contest with him and pulled my blade back.

With every bit of speed and reflex I had, my blade surged forward.

It went right through Vizsla's visor at the T-shaped intersection of transparisteel and penetrated.

His entire body froze for a moment and twitched.

I pulled out my blade before it could do more damage or get caught on the beskar helmet.

Vizsla simply collapsed to the floor bonelessly and I felt his life end.

The Mando woman in gold edged armor, stepped forward and checked the body.

“Ky’ram!” she announced.

“Ky’ram!” Everyone around us echoed.

She picked up the fallen Darksaber, pulled out my other lightsaber and walked forward.

Then she held both out to me, which I accepted. The instant the Darksaber was in my right hand, the world around me was washed away.

My vision was carried away from me to a place of infinite darkness, but the floor under my feet was hard chipped stone, faintly glowing with white. It brought enough light to the place to make it feel strangely soothing, rather than pants shittingly terrifying. In fact, it almost reminded me of an entire world or universe made out of the darksaber’s blade visual effect.

At this point I felt a presence coalesce before me. It wasn’t a ‘being’ or a person, it was too ephemeral to be called that, it was all around me and yet concentrated in front of me, taking a humanoid shape for my benefit.

It was wearing a long gray flowing outfit, over red beskar armor and a helmet style that was distinctly old fashioned, featuring no transparisteel visor, but simply an open curved T-shape cut out of the helmet. The man wearing it had startling blue eyes and a flattened thin nose. His mouth was curved with a smirk of satisfaction.

“Hello Tarre Vizsla.”

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How much time I spent in the vision induced by the Darksaber from my own point of view is something I could never answer for certain. The information the now practically sentient Darksaber kyber crystal had given me, now that it was finally wielded by a worthy, trained Force Sensitive again after hundreds of years of nothing but mindblind non-sensitives, was a bit of a brain dump.

At the moment, I didn’t need prescience to know that I was going to have to spend a lot of time in meditation communicating with the Darksaber and its new connection to me to properly make sense of it all.

I holstered my dual blades on their usual spots and raised the Darksaber and ignited it into the air above me. The blade was practically white now as its crystal channeled and reflected my connection to it and the Force, with only minor hints of black occasionally breaking the surface.

“The Circle is ended, a victor is declared,” the woman who I recognized now as the Armorer - the one who had been making all the beskar armor for the Death Watch and all the other Mandalorian Clans in secret, the beskar smith who had disappeared from Mandalore. “Jedi Tano, you realize that your recognized ownership via combat of the Darksaber and defeating Pre Vizsla makes you the de-facto leader of all the Mandalorians in Death Watch and Clan Vizsla?”

I lowered the blade, extinguished it, clipped it to my belt and formally folded my right hand over my left wrist, subtly tapping on my comlink.

“I do,” I answered, fully embracing the Force.

The three former bodyguards of Pre Vizsla abruptly raised their carbines straight at me, the guns charging up with a hum of power.

In the next second, dozens of pistols and blasters were raised.

Most of the Mandos around me were aiming at the three bodyguards, but a number of others aimed at me and the Mandos were aiming at them in turn.

The same happened throughout the pit of the open cast mine. It was as if my rather unfortunate accession to the head of clan and the soon to be disbanded Death Watch had exposed a rather nasty division that had been festering under the surface.

The Armorer was the only exception. She kept herself absolutely still and her hands moved slowly to her sides. As if she was a sole island of sense in a sea of madness.

“We refuse to accept this ad aruetti Jetii as leader of the clan!” shouted one of the bodyguards.

“You stand in opposition to the Way?” The Armorer asked mildly.

The bodyguard took off his helmet and dropped it at his feet.

The Armorer looked at me and I sensed her question. I simply nodded in answer.

“I declare that all who oppose the Way here are Dar’manda!” she shouted.

The Darksaber was lit in my hand, my other two blades also lit hovering around me.

The first shot was fired the next moment.

A storm of fire erupted everywhere in the bowl of the mine.

Multiple Mandos from both sides streaked into the air, shooting for a height advantage as they started raining blaster fire down.

It was at this moment that I realized why the Darksaber had its distinctive flat blade shape; it made it rather perfect for fighting against someone donning beskar armor. It was also shorter than typical lightsabers, but you needed to get rather close anyway to get into the gaps of the armor.

The bodyguards of Pre naturally engaged me first. First they tried peppering me with shots from their carbines, but my hovering blades just returned them straight back into their helmets. Before any could recover from their natural flinch and the concussion shock of the blasts, I had dashed forward in a blur, the darksaber slashed and the man’s head rolled off his shoulders.

I gave a kick to another of the bodyguards, letting out a Force Push that caused him to rather painfully collide with his fellow and they collided in a tangle of limbs.

Then the Pilgrim roared overhead and the air displacement of her awfully fast arrival buffeted and distracted everyone but me and the Armorer.

Falling from the sky HK-47 and Anakin slowed themselves with bootjets and landed to my right and left.

HK spun up both of his cannons, “Excited Exclamation: Ky’ram di’kutti!”

“Kill those who are trying to kill me! You are to protect the one in gold!” I shouted as I weaved into a series of blaster fire deflections, then ducked and stabbed the darksaber through the thigh of another enemy Mando, who went down screaming.

“Acknowledgement: Understood master. I kill to serve!”

Anakin threw a Force Push that bowled over an entire group of six enemies that was charging at us. “Good grief Snips, you sure know how to throw a party!” He grinned at me.

“Fight now, quip later, Skyguy!”

Ranges closed between the combatants, vibroswords were unsheathed and the energetic clanging of energized vibrating metal striking each other echoed throughout the mine.

I was struck immediately by how chaotic and messy this battle was in comparison to what I was used to. This was so far removed from the almost clinical fighting against war droids.

For all that I had ordered HK to watch the back of the Armorer, it wasn’t really necessary. Any enemy Mando that dared lift a blade or blaster in her direction was immediately gunned or struck down by a small group of friendlies that had clustered around her. Any enemy that managed to get close also felt the thunderous blow of her hammer on their helmet or neck before her vibrodagger pierced straight through their necks or under their arms.

HK mostly delighted into shooting down any enemy Mando that took the skies in their jetpacks. He was also remote controlling the Pilgrim somehow, having it hover all along the perimeter of the mine and firing its single laser turret when he confirmed an enemy target.

Beskar could resist a lot, but it didn’t help you when you were hit by the amount of energy that was meant to destroy starfighters or armored vehicles. The results could be best described as chunky meat and beskar shrapnel flying everywhere.

The final kill before everything went silent, was a vibrosword fight between two Mandos who looked like they had a particular score to settle.

When the enemy died under his blade and everyone remaining looked at each other, then the battlefield strewn with corpses and debris… then inevitably everyone turned to me.

Fuck.

The weight of it all and what I had done hit me like a physical blow.

I would not fold.

This… I had chosen, to save an entire world of men, women and children, an entire culture from yet another civil war, from the folly of themselves and Satine, the folly of the Republic and the Jedi - thinking they could truly destroy the True Mandalorian culture under the guns of their remaining fleet during the Mandalorian Excision nine hundred years ago - putting the pacifistic New Mandolorians into power.

I raised the lit darksaber into the sky, its blade now shining brightly from its dark depths.

“Parjai!” I shouted. (Victory!)

“PARJAI!” The shout was returned.

“Parjai!”

“PARJAI!”

“Ibic te Resol'nare!” (This is the Way!)

“Ibic te Resol'nare!”

“Ibic te Resol'nare!”

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Translations:

beskar’gam - beskar armor suit

buy’ce  - helmet

birgaan - jetpack

ky’ram di’kutti! - Die Dickheads!

Dar’manda - a state of being "not Mandalorian" one who has lost his heritage, and so his identity and soul.

ad aruetti Jetii - young outsider Jedi - ‘aruetti’ is quite pejorative and insulting

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A/N: Whew, this was a blast to write and imagine, especially the duel. Aftermath, explanations, consequences and fallout galore in the next chapter. Highly recommend this as a bit of musical score while reading: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cNO3aNksUzg