[FIC] DXUN

[Sabretooth]

[Sabretooth]

Departure

 

Canderous took the spice-pipe out of his mouth and placed it on the tray. The ash disappeared and the pipe got cleaned automatically.

 

"Sure will miss this beauty." he affirmed and took his gun off of his back and into his hand. "I'll be seeing you, Acknel. I can't say I'd be missing you, though!"

 

Acknel laughed with Canderous as a loader hurried past them with a plasteel container. "I'll sure be missing you, buddy." Acknel responded.

 

"I'll cut down a few hundred for you, then!"

 

"That will do, Canderous." he ended the conversation and patting Canderous on the shoulder, left the dock. Canderous turned around and hurried up a very wide loading ramp. "Move it, soldier! We haven't got all day!" he yelled at a loader as he ran past.

 

Acknel watched Canderous, his old friend run up the ramp and into the great Mandalorian Cruiser. He then looked up - bleak grey skies. The sunny week had ended a thunderstorm was brewing.

 

Acknel hoped he had enjoyed the weather while it lasted. Dxun's rains could get repetitive. But the Mandalorians had several things to do. One of the most important being preparation of evacuation from Dxun.

 

The jungle moon of Onderon had served as the Mandalorians' primary command center. It was here that the most important, most destructive of missions were planned and consented. The moon served as a command center longer than was expected, but things had to move.

 

For an attacking army, especially when it came to the Mandalorian army, keeping a central base is a folly. Because no matter how hard the core is defended, it will fall - or decay eventually.

 

When that happens, the entire attacking force scatters. The Mandalorians had almost suffered a similar fate when their great leader Mandalore had fallen on Dxun. The very moon that would bask in the glory of the Mandalorians in the future. Acknel found that ironic.

 

The sky was littered with dozens of mighty Mandalorian vessels, the air was dense with radio communication and the beasts were finding shelter from the impending rain. Lieutenant Acknel sat down at a computer terminal near him and typed away, checking the infonet.

 

A massive bulk of troopers from the moon had been dispatched to various positions in the galaxy. The next "primary" base was assigned to be the small planet of Cordonia, on a neglected corridor in the far outer rim. Dxun was to be relieved.

 

Now only six thousand troops lay guarding Dxun. Around half a million were barricaded in Iziz. The Mandalorian War was in full swing. The Mandalorians had finally found an enemy worthy of fighting - Revan and his army of Jedi. There was something intriguing about Revan's personality that attracted Mandalorians. Revan was the personification of war tactics, the ultimate warrior. Every Mandalorian fought for the honour of one day facing him in battle.

 

Honour lies in war. And to every Mandalorian, there is no greater gift than the exhilaration of war. The hardened garrison of Dxun had seen war as they invaded Onderon on their basilisks - the thrill as they charged their way up the Sky Ramp, devising strategies to evade and counterattack the cowardly soldiers of the Onderon Military.

 

Dxun was their base and it will continue to be their base, Acknel believed. The moon has been scarred by war. An old Mandalorian folk tale ends with word "And where war is fought, there only war resides."

[The_Catto]

Very good, so far Sabre!

Very suitable for a Prolouge. Cannot wait for the next installment!

[Sabretooth]

Episode 1

 

The Prisoner: Part 1

 

"No activity, sergeant." the private reported, sitting down on the black rock and setting his powered binoculars down. Sergeant Peasser of the Republic Navy strode up, kicking stones aside as he walked. "I didn't see anything but cannoks. Looks the Mandalorians are lying quiet." he replied.

 

"That should be enough for today, private." the sergeant announced, after he had finished scanning the horizon with the powered binoculars, "We'll do a short hike tonight - did you charge the defel mimickers?"

 

"Yes, sir. Here you are." the private handed over a defel mimicker that was lying under the bark of tree. The sergeant secured the unit around his waist and checked it. He disappeared into the air, and came back in a second. "Working like a charm, wouldn't you say. Of course, walking with this thing in the open will do you no good."

 

"Yes, sir." the private repeated. He was on a natural rock bridge between two raised plateaus. The sky was a pale grey, which gave the impression of a veil of silk cloth drawn over the atmosphere. Suddenly, something rose from the jungle far off in the horizon.

 

The private noticed it and ducked, announcing "Unknown Airborne Vessel, 12 o' clock!" The sergeant cocked his rifle and jumped down amidst the fallen leaves and bark. Both of them observed the little black vessel rise into the air, and then shoot off to the right, like a projectile.

 

The sergeant got a profile view of the object and recorded its flight with his binoculars. He took down the co-ordinates and flight path of the vehicle. "I think it's a gunship, sir!" the private exclaimed, observing the vessel with his bare eyes. "Really, rookie? I could have used that piece of info before I took the binoculars."

 

The sergeant set down the binoculars and got up to his knees. "Let's go. I've got the data and we need to transmit it to the Republic tonight." He got back up to his feet and looked behind the cluster of trees they were sheltered in. He caught a glimpse of blue. Mandies, he thought. He jumped down, putting a finger to his lips. The private nodded in acknowledgment.

 

Sergeant Peasser turned on his defel mimicker and the private followed suit. They were soon nothing but shadows, under a pile of leaves. The sound of thunder clapping rung over the jungle. Seconds later, a torrent came down on the two. Rain was always bad for stealth devices. The image of drops rolling down something invisible was an obvious giveaway. It pattered over the leaves, irritating Peasser, who had his ear pressed hard to the earth, listening for Mandalorians.

 

He heard the Mandalorian boots march their way up, their heavy armours clinking in response. It was a patrol, calmly strolling the jungles. They had taken a deviation from their standard route, since Peasser had made sure that the nearest patrol party didn't cross his hiding place. The Mandalorians marched up the rocky bridge and came to a gradual halt right behind the two Republic soldiers.

 

The private felt a strange feeling inside him. He glanced towards Peasser and he could make out a faint silhouette of the cloaked body. He tried to appear as dead as possible. He was terribly inexperienced and figured that if he pretended to be dead, he would be let off. He knew nothing of war.

 

He rolled his eyes upwards to catch a glimpse of the HUD. The defel mimicker's battery was draining unusually fast. In fact, it was draining out three times faster than it should. He felt a tinge of panic. He looked at his sergeant, but couldn't make out anything. He peeked back and saw that the Mandalorians had decided to take a break at that very spot. The leader of the party, a Mandalorian in red armour was looking in the private's direction.

 

He checked the cloaking device's power again. It was at 15% and was draining fast. He started to get fidgety. He could hear the Mandalorians laugh and joke and talk. They were disgustingly engrossed in war, discussing strategies, memories and "honour". He tried to listen, and he heard one of the Mandalorians talk about how he killed a dozen Republic soldiers with a strategically placed satchel charge. The private's blood curdled, and then flowed faster than normal. Hate.

 

Suddenly, he felt something, as if he had been stripped. He heard a muffling sound from his sergeant. The sergeant materialized before him, much to his horror. He was under the shadow of a large fern leaf that covered his body, but his body was fairly visible. The private was starting to panic. He looked at himself - he was uncloaked too. "You really didn't hope those would work, did you?" he heard a radioed voice from behind him.

 

The Mandalorian party had surrounded them, their rifles pointing down on them. Sergeant Peasser lied motionless, but the private turned over. The guns turned to him. He gasped and jerked. He caught hold of his own rifle. Before he could point it at a Mandalorian, he was dead.

 

The Sergeant didn't bat an eyelid when he saw his private get gunned down. He turned around slowly and saw the Mandalorians with their guns on him. The Mandalorian in red armour strode ahead and signaled his subordinates tolower their weapons. He then ordered the Sergeant to hand over the rifle and lie down with his hands over his head.

 

Sergeant Peasser complied. One of the Mandalorians struck him with a stun baton and the Sergeant felt a sudden delusion. The word "Prisoner" repeated in his head over and over.

[RC-1162]

Ooooh Shiny!!

The Mandalorians never did get the spotlight in K1 and in what little I know of K2, great to see this one. Hope this goes good till the end!

[The_Catto]

Wow.

Just as I was beginning to think that they were going to get away by some miraculous feat of bravery by eith the Private or Sergeant, the Private is dead and Sarge is prisoner!

Lol, great work there Sabre.

 

It was hard to breath when the defel mimicker was running dry of battery. Exactly what I like when reading a story!

[Sabretooth]

Episode 2

 

The Prisoner: Part 2

 

The interrogation room was at the very end of the primary detention center hall. A flight of stairs led down to a room that was dark for the most part, save for an ominous orange light on the ceiling.

 

At the far end of the room were stacked five interrogation droids. A closet was right behind them, its door malfunctioning. Inside, one could glimpse the remains of some defunct droids.

 

Sergeant Peasser's wrists were tied behind the chair he was sitting in, as were his ankles. The Interrogation Chair had no base on the floor, and hung with perfect balance from the ceiling. It looked quite like it were a marvel at a time, which became aged and worn out with time.

 

Peasser quit struggling as a Mandalorian officer entered the room, accompanied by an aide and an assistance droid.

 

The officer gave some commands to his aide in Mandalorian and asked his droid (which was of Republic make) to start working on the Interrogation Terminal and stup the droids.

 

"Sergeant Peasser. A pleasure." he remarked, sitting on a chair which swiveled in at just the right moment. "My name is Robungade. That is Lieutenant Robungade to you.

 

I foresee the Interrogation operations here and am one of the three administrators of these cells. You will find this information useful to report to the Republic, no doubt."

 

Peasser's head was thumping from a drug that had been administered on him prior to his entering his cell. The drug was only a tranquilizer, but Peasser was convinced it was some sort of a truth serum.

 

Already, he could feel his grip on reality slipping. He tried to hold off the serum, but it was overpowering him. It was as if some other mind was attempting to take control of his body - as if he were being possessed by a relentless spirit.

 

"Now, Sergeant. We are all amicable gentlemen here. My aide will be here shortly, and we will conduct a routine interrogation - nothing personal. Now, before we start, there are some things I should make clear to you."

 

He cleared his throat and began, "You might have heard stories of us Mandalorians being barbaric, of us torturing captured soldiers and committing... unmentionable atrocities. All of it - including whatever you might have heard of something called 'Flashpoint' is Bantha Fodder. Those are ridiculous rumours."

 

The aide entered the room presently. He was unarmed, but there was a full rack of weapons near the door. He reported something to the Lieutenant in Mandalorian, received confirmation and took a pace back.

 

The Lieutenant then examined the interrogation droids and gave them some basic commands. They all responded with beeps of varying decibels and hovered balefully around Sergeant Peasser.

 

"Alright, Sergeant. We will conduct this interrogation until we have the answers we need. That means you are bad luck if you do not have the answers we need." Robungade lectured, "Once the interrogation is complete, you will have a variety of services at your disposal and you can be assured that there will be no surprise, random or unscheduled interrogations in the future."

 

"Liar." Peasser muttered. His lower jaw was now sagging and his eyes blazing red. He was starting to feel dizzy and leaning precariously out, held to the seat by his stun cuffs.

 

"All lies, filthy Mandalorians. Filthy Mandalore..." His curses were cut off by a round of electric shocks. He screamed until the shocks subsided and eventually came to a halt. He fell slumped backwards on the chair - conscious, but very dizzy.

 

"That was for insulting Mandalore." Robungade curtly explained and his chair slid closer to Peasser's. "Now, Sergeant, first question. What is your homeworld?"

 

"Du... Dublak." Peasser choked.

 

"Okay, heard of that. Now, what is your posting?"

 

Peasser choked and coughed, but did not produce an answer. The Lieutenant signalled one of the droids and Peasser jumped. An ultrasonic scream made its way into Peasser's brain. He shrieked, but the pain in his brain only kept getting more and more intense.

 

Tears came to his eyes, till the little red globes started to overflow. His lungs were ripping from all the screaming - his body was reddening. The Mental Scream was one of the more infamous Mandalorian tortures.

 

It took the scream some two minutes to subside once it had been turned off. Peasser now looked like a wretched soul in a Republic uniform. He was whimpering and breathing hard.

 

The Republic had never been able to fully train their soldiers against the obscure Mandalorian tortures - more of which were invented on an hourly basis.

 

The interrogation continued for three whole hours - which were the most painful hours of Peasser's life. His body was battered, tortured, broken and then the cycle repeated itself. He was never killed, but came very close to death.

 

He was in desperate, but not urgent need of medical assistance. The Lieutenant learnt several things from the Sergeant, who wasn't as stubborn as he had earlier thought. Then again, stubbornness was only a temporary factor in front of a Mandalorian Heavy-Duty Interrogation Droid.

 

Lieutenant Robungade sent the information file he had compiled to the central Mandalorian Intelligence, once he was in his office. As soon as the file was sent and a received on the other end, the original file was erased. Robungade settled back. Every interrogation requires a certain dignity - in both the interrogator and the interrogated.

 

He had given the Sergeant standard wartime liberties - including free movement during a fixed time period and decent food. Guards kept an eye on him at all times and remote droid was assigned to monitor him at all hours.

 

Mandalorians did not kill their prisoners unless absolutely necessary. They knew every sort of prisoner had its value - some more than others. This Sergeant was one example. There could be more to the Sergeant's lonely presence on Dxun than a simple behind-enemy-lines reconnaisance. There was more to it, Lieutenant Robungade decided.

[Sabretooth]

Episode 3

 

The Prisoner: Part 3

 

Lieutenant Robungade turned off his journal, where he had recorded the latest entry under the title 'Seventh Day since Republic Prisoner'. He waved his hand at a table-mounted sensor and his office's door slid open, revealing his Aide, a greenhorn named Velcane.

 

Velcane walked in, placed a datapad he carried on a receiver on the table and saluting, left the room. Once Velcane had left, the door closed and Robungade examined the contents of the new datapad.

 

It was a report on the activities of the prisoner. He slid it into his holographic player and an image of a Mandalorian snapped up. Robungade smiled. It was his friend, the prison cells Security Chief Gibbel.

 

"I have compiled this report, as you requested, Lieutenant." the image spoke. The blue figure flickered ever so slightly as it reported, "His body adjusts to the Dxun timezone perfectly, suggesting that he was here longer than we first made out.'

 

'He is a quiet person, and his face is of military stock. Shows neither brawn, nor excessive brain. He answers any questions we ask him, not all of them being satisfactory. He sure does maintain a poker face every time we talk to him. It can get annoying at times. He is a hard man, Lieutenant.'

 

'He wakes up about half an hour before dawn, on average and finishes breakfast by the time the sun is up - to be precise, 2600 Manda-Tubrern Time. Even though, he has ample choice in food, he lives on a spartan diet and is not demanding in other matters either.

 

He spends the afternoon meditating or exercising. He takes evening walks and returns after spends about three hours strolling to the edge of our base, to the Great Cliff, where he stands watching the sunset.'

 

'Of course, the guard droids constantly monitor him and give him a slight electrical jolt if he is found doing something suspicious. He sleeps very early, but that is about it. If you think he is an insider, Lieutenant, his only chance of communication will be in 'free time' which lasts in the evening.

 

We have had the hovering guard droids scan the direction he watches, but we haven't found anything particularly interesting. Report Complete, Security Chief Sergeant Gibbel out."

 

Robungade took the datapad out and stacked it with a dozen others in a drawer that slid open. The prisoner was not showing unusual behaviour, which surprised Robungade. He fingered the orange glow of the communications panel on his desk and started a link to Gibbel.

 

A few seconds later, he saw Gibbel's hologram walking. Gibbels showed no signs of interruption and inquired casually, "Yes, sir?"

 

"Went through your report. It was satisfactory. I have a request: Transmit this to the communications division, please." Gibbels complied and after pressing a sequence of buttons, resumed. "Alright. Now first, calculate all possible points in the Dxun atmosphere and space from where the Sergeant is clearly visible during his evening walk.

 

Wait, cut it to the part where he is standing. I want all three-sixty degrees and drawing a lne where he would be visible via satellite or a related vessel. Scan that area with our own Cloaker Satellites and see what comes up."

 

Lieutenant Robungade continued dispensing orders and when he felt contented, signed off with an "over and out".

 

 

Over the lush emerald moon known as Dxun,a lone satellite orbited. Although it was clearly visible to the naked eye (should one be floating in outer space), it was completely invisible to technical equipment.

 

The round grey sphere hovered several miles over the moon's surface, gathering constant data. From its belly unfolded a thin, tapering apparatus which could be identified as a camera. Once it was completely deployed, the satellite scanned the preprogrammed location.

 

After zooming incessantly into the Dxun terrain, the camera found its target - a captive prisoner. The camera zoomed in further, until it had to stop its movement so as to avoid any jerks to the view.

 

It locked on to the soldier's eyes and tracked them as they moved up and down, scanning the landscape, rolling around as if drawing imaginary lines on the vista.

 

The camera transmitted the information to a processing unit on board the satellite, which decoded the visual data and identified it with certain algorithms in its memory.

 

The eye movements were a code that the satellite was designed to decipher. Once it had the necessary data and completed its decoding, it silently floated away again, to remain hidden in open sight.

 

The satellite would then sail away into the open black space, with no physical cover from observatories on Dxun or Onderon. Even if it were sighted, it was perfectly cloaked and constantly changed its location, often erratically changing directions and speeds. But today was different.

 

Another silent ball, no more than a fist in size scanning the open space for satellites. There were dozens of the ball's clones in the space surrounding Dxun. The swarm had been released as a result of a potential alarm, and was scanning desperately for a Republic satellite, or its traces.

 

The Republic Satellite hovered away from the inquisitive Mandalorian Probe, and attempted to snap holographs of the ball. It was fully cloaked, using modern technology to prevent the precise model the Mandalorian Probe was from finding it. The Probe drifted in space, scanning all three-sixty degrees in vain. Reaching its wandering threshold, it turned around and proceeded back to Dxun to continue along its path.

 

The Republic Satellite now zoomed away. The day was done and it was the last day. It flew away silently, with information that would one day herald hundreds of deaths. The Satellite would then "crash-land" on Onderonian Surface, where Beast-Rider spies would help dissect the data and transmit it to a Republic Outpost in the middle of an asteroid field that orbited Onderon's sun. The outpost was suitably hidden, as it was built under asteroid rock and had the guise of a licensed, independent mining colony.

 

 

"We have tracked foreign emission trails, but no active units, sir." the report came through Robungade's desk. Robungade was flipping a holo-input pen with his fingers irritatedly. The report stated over and over that even though there were hints of recent activity, nothing concrete could be established. Robungade felt his expense was wasted. He grew more annoyed by the minute.

 

He turned the report off and considered his options. There was no use for enemy soldiers as captives. They were cumbersome to manage and posed a potential danger. The soldier was unwilling to talk after five interrogations and was either an imbecile or a highly-trained soldier. It was only beneficial to kill him.

 

He summoned his aide and had him a send a message to Gibbel, who was out inspecting the handiwork of a group of greenhorns. "Eliminate the prisoner." the message said.

[Sabretooth]

Episode 4

 

The Prisoner: Part 4

 

Sergeant Peasser was rudely awakened by a shrill beeping from his cell's force field. He got up frowning and by the time he had released his thumping head from his hands, the beeping stopped and the force field shut down noiselessly. Two Mandalorians walked in briskly and positioned themselves. "Under Mandalorian Military Code and Law of Honour, you, Sergeant Peasser are to be executed. This is a message from Mandalorian Command. You may depart for the planned execution when ready, but may take no longer than four hours."

 

The ominous messengers then walked out as silently as they had arrived. They did not show a shred of emotion, and yet did not seem overly unsympathetic. Sergeant Peasser tossed himself back onto the bed and looked up at the grey ceiling balefully. He had nothing left to do. The mission he was entrusted with had been accomplished. Whether it was successful or not, he did not know. Yet, he was pleased in knowing he had done his part.

 

His duty to his motherland had been done. His duty to his army had been done. Even though he had hoped to devise a plan of escape, he forgot about it later. His mind's progress had been dulled to a halt. He could see nothing before him save the dark clouds of death. Dark clouds that rain.

 

 

It rained densely. Sergeant Peasser walked into the Execution Arena, which was a well-built enclosure made of metal. Its high walls were underlined by battlements, which were well-populated by Mandalorian soldiers. At every corner was a tall defensive tower, manned by a sniper and a Pincer.

 

The Pincer Corps, which was the newest instated by the Mandalorians used the specially built Pincer Repeaters. These Pincers had the range of most sniper rifles with a reliable speed of fire, which made them a deadly weapon. They weren't very mobile, but provided a solid line of defence in stationary scenarios.

 

A large viewing gallery encompassed the wall facing the Mandalorian base and it was currently populated by several Mandalorian soldiers, who weren't on defensive or any other duty. Commander Cerratim was in a prominent gallery, overlooking the arena. He was the Chief of Dxun, and the supreme commander of Dxun, alongside his co-appointed comrade Commander Kerill, who was on duty.

 

Sergeant Peasser was led to the middle of the Arena, which was now covered in a two-feet thick carpet of dense grass. The two Mandalorians that accompanied him were highly ranked, and both wore red armour. The Commander made a short speech and retreated to his seat. Most of it was in Mandalorian, save a few parts that were directed at Peasser. He explained how the Mandalorians carried out executions.

 

The Mandalorians believed in a strict code of honour. They were not fighting the Republic for any political or religious differences, but simply because they wanted a fight. With respect to the Mandalorian spirit, every execution was fair and the victim was given ample opportunity to protect himself. If he earned the Execution Overseer's respect, his execution could be cancelled. This could also happen if a strong majority of the audience voted for a cancellation.

 

Peasser did not hear any of the words. He didn't care about the Mandalorian code. He turned around and saw one of the Mandalorians take up a martial arts stance, while his companion walked away. He got into position and took up an Echani stance, which surprised the Mandalorian. "As per execution rules, you are allowed to wear a suit of Mandalorian armour." he announced, resuming to an 'at ease' position.

 

Peasser shook his head roughly and didn't budge. "So be it." his adversary resigned, "My name is Dormant, but that doesn't mean I am dormant, like in your Basic." he joked. Peasser didn't react. Two complete minutes of eye-to-eye combat followed, with both adversaries melting each other with their eyes. Their hands and feet didn't move, but the intensity in their eyes was enough to light a fire.

 

Dormant made the first move, taking a stealthy step ahead. Peasser didn't move, his eyes still fierce. Dormant made a quick reverse-kick, spinning his left leg. Peasser parried it with a kick of his own and only milliseconds later, delivered a kick with his left foot into the Mandalorian's thighs. The Mandalorians then shifted his weight to his torso and sent both his arms in a flurry, punching Peasser's chest and shoulders to debilitate him.

 

Peasser suffered four blows, but pulled himself back and kicked Dormant's stomach, pushing both opponents away. Dormant didn't stop - every pause would negate the last round, he was taught. Peasser braced himself and ducked Dormant's charged punch with perfect timing. In a position of advantage, Peasser struck the Mandalorian's exposed torso, groin and hips repeatedly, being careful to avoid the armour. Dormant recoiled and almost tripped. Peasser stuck his leg in the middle of his legs and entangled it, to cause him to fall.

 

Dormant tripped and fell on his knees. Before he could admonish himself came a loud blow into his neck, which sent him to the ground. A series of kicks followed, trampling Dormant's every effort at getting up. From glimpses in his helmet, he could almost make out his fellow Mandalorians scolding him. Peasser was kicking him with unparalleled ferocity.

 

Dormant gathered his energy, counted to three and jumped up, ignoring the blows and shook Peasser off. He then rammed into his adversary, making a spectacular tackle into the grass. Peasser writhed, clutching his abdomen in pain. Dormant took the opportunity to re-energize and stretch. When he felt ready, he sent a surprise punch with a massive velocity into Peasser's nose as he was getting up. The move flat-lined Peasser and his nose now bled. He clutched his nose, yelling curses and screaming at the same time.

 

Dormant gathered his energy and watched the injured Sergeant's wails subside and his legs kick to life. He readied himself for a second round and sent a textbook kick towards Peasser as soon as he was on his knees. Peasser stopped the kick with whatever life he had in his hands. The Mandalorian did not respond to the move, respecting the sergeant's courage instead. That was the biggest mistake in his life.

 

Peasser stumbled a few steps back dazedly. Dormant decided for a death-blow. He made a false-run and leaped into the air, readying his hand for a cleaving chop. His hand came down like a naked blade of alightsaber, silently, elegantly and lethally. Peasser dropped to the ground before the strike could connect. Peasser rolled away, jumped to his feet and propelled his body like a torpedo straight into a temporarily befuddled Dormant - all in a single second.

 

Dormant recoiled from the impact and fell over. He closed his eyes behind the visor and when he opened them, he was already rising. He liked the random, unpredictable attack. It was this appreciation that negated his frustration at having missed the deathblow. He felt the sergeant's hands on him - softly at first, then roughly. The sergeant ripped away the Mandalorian's helmet, leaving the Mandalorian's dark-tan head exposed.

 

Dormant's head wasn't damaged, but he was starting to understand what Peasser was up to. He tried to jump to his feet, but Peasser's hand had already locked his head. He gasped and struggled, but he was powerless. Peasser twisted his neck and in a second, it was all over. Dormant was dead.

 

Commander Cerratim clapped loudly, his hands digitally echoing across the arena. "You fight well, Sergeant Peasser. You are worthy of far more honour than I had had expected. We arranged for only two warriors, but I'm thinking you may well be fit to challenge all of us!"

 

A series of cheers rose in the crowd. The Mandalorians were intensely patriotic, but they respected honorable men more than themselves. It is because of this, that some Mandalorians had actually started respecting Revan more than Mandalore himself.

[Sabretooth]

Episode 5

 

The Prisoner: Conclusion

 

Sergeant Peasser lingered on the field, beat. His face was dirty with soil and smeared in crimson blood. He had a wrathful look in his eye and his twitching fingers almost gave him the impression of being a psychotic. He was shuddering slightly, but was prepared for whatever he was to face. Once the Commander finished his second speech (which Peasser deemed worthless again), a new contender stepped up. It was Lieutenant Robungade.

 

"Lieutenant Robungade has expressed interest in fighting you. Since you are the undisputed champion of the last round, you can decide whether you wish to accept his challenge. The Lieutenant is an experienced adversary, outsider. He has executed several Republic soldiers in the past. If you deny his challenge, you will have to forcefully fight whoever challenges you next. What is your choice?" the Commander bellowed, taking great pleasure in being the match's announcer and referee.

 

Peasser wiped his broken nose with his sleeve and took a few steps forward. The Commander did not even bother further announcement. He leaned back to watch the fight. The Lieutenant eyed Peasser head to toe and prepared himself. Peasser had been a subject of great interest to him.

 

Once in range, Peasser made a mock charge, jerked to a halt and pedaled back sharply. Robungade took the bait and lurched away. Peasser made a surprise kick, spinning in the air completely. Robungade avoided the attack and the flying Peasser landed on his back. He howled and got back to his feet, trying to make as much distance between him and Robungade as possible. As soon as he was on his feet, Robungade dashed into him. Peasser noticed that and tried to run, but stumbled.

 

Robungade's force was lesser than what it could have been, but the attack did connect and both went to the ground. Peasser landed face-down. He growled through gritted teeth and charged back at his opponent. What then followed was a series of expert martial art manoeuvres. Both combatants applied different styles and parried them, to the point that they had begun to take it as a game. A game where you must simply connect and injure your opponent. Peasser no longer felt the survival instinct, he did not feel pain. He was starting to enjoy it all. He felt the Mandalorian exhilaration.

 

And he did win the game. After minutes of intensive parrying and blocking, Peasser used a 4th Form Echani Strike, the Varerero Glu. Sensing a corridor of opportunity, he sent his fist like a loaded missile into Robungade's neck, causing the latter to recoil. Seeing the grimy blue armour shudder, Peasser jumped into the air and made a twisting kick with all the force he could muster. The armour was strong, and the two split-second attacks sent him back. Peasser landed all the blows he could into the Lieutenant, debilitating him. He kept striking him even after Robungade was hugging the ground.

 

He exhausted his already-weary leg after a dozen kicks and took some time to rest. As he hunched over his knees breathing heavily, Peasser kept an eye on Robungade, who was starting to get up. Peasser had vengeance on his mind now. He had grown a liking to the torment of the Lieutenant. He kicked his opponent more and stripped him of his helmet, and then kicked his head. He did it over and over again. Robungade kept falling back, much to his disbelief.

 

Finally, Robungade jumped back to his feet. He landed a blow to Peasser's spine as the latter was scurrying behind him. Peasser hit the Lieutenant's belt release button. The belt loosened and Peasser grabbed hold of it. Robungade kicked and struck him, but Peasser didn't falter. Once the belt was out, he rammed it into Robungade's head.

 

A whistle blew. The sniper's cocked their rifles. A foreign object had been used in the conflict. Commander Cerratim got up immediately and began announcing something rapidly. He was speaking in Mandalorian, until he realized that it would not be understood by Peasser. He quickly switched to Basic, but by then it was too late.

 

Peasser had rammed the belt over and over. He had found the concealed blades inside. Blades that he was now stabbing into Lieutenant Robungade. The Lieutenant was trying to defend desperately, but was now a bloody face. The blades kept skewering him. He felt his Mandalorian pride disappear. He had been beaten humiliatingly.

 

Robungade slumped to the ground. He was obviously dead, and two technicians in the gallery pavillion confirmed his death via the life sensors in his armour. The Commander furiously dubbed a sentence in Mandalorian with clenched fists. All heads turned to the weary and exhausted Peasser. He raised his hand up high in victory. He screamed enthusiastically and a second later, he was illuminated by four Disruptor Sniper Rifle beams. He died in a second.

 

The execution was complete.

[Empress Padme]

LOVE IT! nice twists and turns.

[Sabretooth]

Well, that's encouraging, I suppose.

[Sabretooth]

Episode 6

 

The Clairvoyant

 

“The plan never worked out.” Canderous explained, pulling heavy weights. He took a break and wiped the sweat on his brow, before resuming his exercise. Acknel sat relaxed in a spectator chair nearby, in the Barracks Gym. He had one leg resting over the other and he was smoking spice. Spice some slave had toiled hours to unearth.

 

“The battle was a failure. Revan once again surprised us. He had a full battery of soldiers surrounding Berra. Our vanguards were decimated. Mandalore bailed us out and shut that sector, too.” Canderous explained. He stopped again and took a break, dropping beside Acknel’s chair. He drank a bottle of water and set it to fill at the water dispenser.

 

“That makes six sectors cut within the week, Canderous.” Acknel remarked. “It is all over. Revan has emerged victorious.”

 

“Never. As long as we have Dxun in our hands – or hell, in our head, we can’t lose. Dxun is the beginning, but it won’t be the end.”

 

“Then what will be the end, Canderous? The Forbidden Planet?”

 

“Mandalore has restationed units in and around Dxun. Iziz is now an impregnable fortress. As long we have a wall around the two, nothing can stop us.”

 

Outside the large windows, a dozen Mandalorian recruits paused from their daily sparring and stopped to look at a large Mandalorian Capital Cruiser descend into the jungle moon. They watched the flying beast land and then without a word, resumed their combat. Acknel and Canderous watched them in consideration.

 

“You know it as well as I do. Dxun is going to decide all of our fates. Mandalore saw it that night. You know the Mandalore has the power to foresee the future. You know that he has seen the battle to be waged here – right on this moon.” Acknel spoke.

 

Canderous emptied a bottle of water over his sweaty head and rubbed his face and greying hair to cleanse the sweat. “I know it. And it will be the most glorious battle in our lives. We will remember it, fifty years from now and recall it as the finest moment in our lives. And Mandalore himself will lead us to battle. I can only hope for Revan to lead the pathetic Republic forces.”

 

“The Republic has made quick progress. They have expanded and absorbed our worlds in days. Revan cannot be on a hundred systems at once.”

 

“Yeah, and your point is?”

 

“My point is that it is Revan’s mind, not Revan that leads the Republic. It is his strategy, his charisma, his brilliance and clairvoyance that leads them. He may be a Jedi, but he is a great warrior. And that is because he is a warrior who doesn’t fight.”

 

“He is a warrior who doesn’t fight? I’ve talked to soldiers who have served against Revan’s forces. When Revan enters the battlefield, the Devil himself arrives to wreck havoc.”

 

 

The giant mess hall of a Republic Capital Ship, the Tuk’ata was abuzz with activity, as usual. Soldiers of the Republic filled its floor, some five hundred soldiers eating out of five hundred plates. The kitchen counters at the far ends of the halls were always full, and despite the hum of incessant chatter, the great Mess was handled with clockwork efficiency.

 

The ceiling for the great hall was significantly high, but a great sheet of transparent duraglass halved the actual ceiling height. This made for two Mess Halls, one on top of the other.

 

There were all sorts of soldiers – humans, Twi’Leks, Rodians, Kel Dors, Bith, Vegarals, Zabraks and countless more. Every soldier had a story, but most simply had a tragedy. They all fought for several different causes, but they were all united by one string. They all despised the Mandalorians. They had sworn the death of every Mandalorian they would encounter in the War.

 

Today was a little different from the rest. There was a group of serious technicians working on a large holo-viewer at the end of the room. The viewer’s twin was on the other floor, and was also being worked upon. The holo-viewers hadn’t been worked upon for quite some time. But today, there was a special announcement.

 

Some minutes after the technicians had gotten away the eating crowd’s attention gathered, the holo-viewers flickered to life. A series of blue static videos played, and the technicians finalised some settings. It took a while, but the sample videos now played very clearly. They were mostly messages and tests for the Republic Navy. As soon as the last sample finished, the actual video started.

 

Revan, the Jedi Hero, appeared floating above the holo-viewer. He was dressed in his regal black robe and dark mask, which did an excellent job of protecting his physical identity. He stood with the precision and the grit of a veteran, and he spoke with the charisma no politician could even dream of achieving. Holding his hand out, as if grasp a planet in his glove, he began.

“Brothers and sisters, we are assembled here, at the edge of space tonight.

 

We have fought relentlessly. We have fought those savage beasts and we have shown them that in this galaxy, only the righteous, the equal and the free may prosper! There is no place for murderous barbarians like The Enemy in our galaxy! But our task is not complete. We are at a crucial moment in this galactic war.

 

The Mandalorians have been beaten from one sector to another and they have re-assembled on Dxun, which is their base. This is proof, soldiers, that their tactics are failing them. Their ancient, foolish strategies which the imbecile Mandalore now hangs on to are outdated. They may have proved to be strong warriors – but against innocents, helpless citizens, there is no strong warrior. There is a coward. There is a coward who cannot accept his cowardice.

 

It is our duty, as soldiers of the Republic, to show the Mandalorians their place in this galaxy. There is none! We will exterminate them, as they once dreamed of exterminating us. The war has now turned and their flawed ‘master plan’ has now come to a close. They will die a brutal death that we will deliver – and I assure you, soldiers! I assure you, that there will be no compromise on this. The death blow will come; and it will come soon.

 

Dxun is their heart, their brain and their limbs. They will fight the fiercest at the source. The opposition is going to be utterly ferocious. But we have the numbers. Already, Dxun is besieged and will fall soon. Our relentless forces will ensure that their taint on this galaxy is cleansed. Every hand will count. Every blaster shot will count. Droids and Jedi shall fight alongside you, but we will obtain Dxun. We shall not stop till we do.

 

Battle preparations are starting today. Orders have been assigned. Droids have been programmed and Jedi have assembled. We will do what must be done. For the Republic!”

 

The hologram died in a minute of silence. Revan’s words had been etched into every soldier’s mind. Revan held an innate talent at influencing others, as did the famed Jedi General that served under him. Her ability to influence entire armies had seen key victories and more were obvious.

 

Many wondered in their minds what Revan’s ‘death blow’ was. Was it the epic battle that was to ensue on Dxun? Or was it a darker move in the shadows?

[Sabretooth]

Personally, I'm starting to find that my writing quality is deteriorating. I'm getting very restless, too. Anybody else there, who thinks that it is worse than The Dusk Lady or Victim of Betrayal?