"Hang on!" Qui-Gon Jinn blurted s their ship sliced through the upper atmosphere of the planet. From his safe place inside the ship, the Jedi Master could see flames beginning to engulf the ship. Not a good sign. All he could do was hope that the heat shields held up, or they would be cooked before they broke through the clouds.

With sweaty palms, Qui-Gon held tightly to the ship's controls, willing it to stay on-course. He tightened his fingers around the controls, pushing with all his strength as the ship continued to rattle and shake. Not helped at all by the amount of damage the Sith Lord had done to the main engines. Re-entry at this speed would be difficult enough, even with a fully-functioning engine. He was familiar enough with the Commerce Guild-style ships to know their maneuvering capabilities and limits, which was extremely helpful. What he knew he didn't know was how they were going to get off the planet once they touched down. Because there was no way that the ship would ever be anything more than spare parts after they landed.

If they landed.

Sparks began to fly from the control console, forcing Qui-Gon to bring one hand to his face out of pure reflex. And the ship's trajectory paid the price. They began to drop at an alarming rate as he tried to fix the problem. But all his efforts were met with singeing sparks from the console. He needed to re-route the power, from the main engine to the afterburners. If he did his math right, that would give him one-hundred and twenty seconds to fix the electrical problem in the console. The main problem was that there was no way he'd be able to make the switch, get underneath the console, were the access panel was in less than thirty seconds. And he knew that fixing the wiring would take him the entre one-hundred and twenty seconds. There wasn't enough time for him to do it safely. So he needed help.

"Anakin!" Qui-Gon commanded the young Jedi in the co-pilot's seat, "Get under the console! Access the panel when I tell you!" he said as his hand floated above the button which would turn off the main engines, and turn on the afterburners. "Re-route the power, one of the wires is damaged. You have exactly two minutes," he heaved deeply as he began to count down in his mind. He sincerely hoped that the boy had at least some knowledge of a ship's electrical systems. As a Master, Qui-Gon had always implored the other Jedi to instruct their students in basic mechanical work. It was essential for most survival situations.

"Yes, Master Jinn," Anakin replied swiftly, as he slid out of his seat and under the metal console. "Ready!"

"Now!" Qui-Gon snapped, as he pressed the button. Immediately, the ship began to accelerate rapidly as it tripled it's speed. Flames engulfed the front of the ship as they began to enter the lower atmosphere. Forty seconds went by, and sweat began to form on Jinn's brow. Another twenty, and he was sweating all over, until at least the console stopped sparking and lit up green across the board. Qui-Gon flipped back to the main engines, causing the ship to rapidly decelerate and a large, pulpy crash to come from above them.

"What in the name of the Force was that for?" Sifo-Dyas growled from the gunner's seat.

"Minor engine malfunction," Qui-Gon replied snappishly as he once more wrestled with the controls. Out of the corner of the view port, he could see a trio of Starfighters closing in from the left. Their markings were incredibly similar to the ones on the ship they were flying, so he knew that they were hostiles, way before they opened fire on their aft side. "Hold on!" he shouted, "I'll try and shake them!" Qui-Gon had a lot of faith in his own skills as a pilot. They had been developed carefully over the past five decades of his life. And during the last war, he had flown a Starfighter into the heart of many Enemy fleets, especially during the battles of Hoth and Dathomir, and come out unscathed.

But this was not one of those situations. He was not flying his preferred style of ship. He was only vaguely familiar with the capabilities of the ship he was flying. And he was certainly past his prime.

He twisted the control hard, going into a tight barrel-roll and narrowly avoiding a barrage of shots from the lead fighter. That ship was sleeker than the others, as well as better armoured, which lead Qui-Gon to believe that it was a squadron leader of sorts. And definitely not a droid fighter, given the amount of skill it displayed. The lead ship came around in a perfect loop, attempting to line up a good shot. But Jinn was better. Guided by the force, the elder Jedi was able to narrowly avoid the barrage of corresponding fire.

What he did not anticipate was the arrival of seven more ships. He reacted as quickly as possible, spinning the ship around in tight circles as he shot towards the capitol city of Aldera. But the enemy fire grew ever more accurate. Combined with the stress the ship had received from the Sith Lords, it was only a matter of time before…. BOOM! The right wing was soon engulfed in smoke, as it was shredded by a turbo-laser. The left wing soon gave out, and their ship began to careen downwards towards the lush jungle canopy.

xxx

"Please return to your homes," a cool, computer-generated voice said calmly over a loudspeaker. Of course, the screaming public below ignored it. "The situation is under control. Please return to your homes." Again, no one paid it any heed. Parents screamed for children. Lovers searched for one another. Mass panic had engulfed the entire city, in less than a few minutes. Desperate security forces tried to keep the calm, but they were simply overwhelmed by the sheer number of citizens.

Not to mention the gigantic battle-cruisers hanging above the city were making things ten times worse. Three such ships floated in a triangle pattern around the Capitol building, while smaller transports spilled out of their hangar bays like locusts. The Troop carriers landed around the perimeter of the city, boxing the citizens in with absolute ease. It was very clear to anyone that whoever was in charge of taking the city knew what they were doing.

A few hundred security officers and police hastily erected a barricade along the main street using overturned durasteel bins and a few speeders, and that drew the attention of one particular dropship. It was coloured differently than the others. Strange markings marked its hull. To some, it resembled a skull. To others, it looked like a legendary beast of legend. Others, however knew what it really meant.

Out of the dropship twenty-five soldiers spilled out, all of them wearing different coloured armour. But to the elderly and the scholarly, that was more than enough. The warriors where unmistakable, from their T-shaped visors to the rockets strapped to their backs. They were Mandalorian Warriors. The toughest of the tough. They were rumored to never have been defeated in a war. They were the only warriors in the known universe capable of killing Jedi Knights in single combat.

Two Mandalorians even had Jedi Lightsabers hanging around their belts. One such warrior, with greyish-blue armour had a single blade strapped to her belt, while two more hung around a green-armoured warrior. Other trinkets hung around the warrior's armour as well, signifying notable kills. A Zabrak horn. A tuft of Wookie fur. Trophies of war.

The Blue armoured female held up a hand, pointing three fingers to her left. Accordingly, three of her compatriots swept to that side, and three more veered left. One more came up the centre, holding a portable mortar launcher, which he aimed towards the rudimentary barricade. He fired a single shot, decimating the speeders and bins, and scattering the men and women who had tried to fight back. A few raised small blasters and fired on the Mandalorians, but they were quickly cut down by efficient blaster fire.

The Female, whose name was Bo-Katan, signalled to her troops to cease fire as she holstered her blaster. "Fan out," she commanded with a high, clear voice. "Eliminate any who resist. Fett," she said as he turned towards her young second-in-command. The green-armoured warrior with two lightsaber trophies, "pick six and follow me. We'll be making the run for the palace. Lord Bellus wants the Royal Family alive."

"Lord Maul ordered us to kill them on sight," Fett replied coolly as he slung his long rifle over his shoulder. "The King and Queen, at least. The Prince-."

"We are under Bellus's command," Katan barked back with clear authority. "And you are under mine. And I am under your Father's. You follow my orders," she continued with a hefty grin under her helmet, knowing that Fett was displaying many of the same qualities that his Father had displayed before he had taken the title of Mandalore from his predecessor. "Move out," she said crisply, as Fett hand-picked their best warriors. All men and women that Katan would have picked herself. The red-haired commander smiled to herself as the eight soldiers tore off towards the palace, eager to complete their objective.

xxx

"That…." Obi-Wan groaned as he pulled himself out of the twisted wreck that was their ship. "Could have gone better," he said as he rolled his right shoulder, feeling a slight twinge of pain in it. He had bashed his side against the port turret when they hit landfall. Luckily, nothing felt like it was broken, just bruised. And Obi-Wan knew he was the best off, as he looked towards his fellow Jedi. Sifo-Dyas was sporting a bloody nose and a black eye. Qui-Gon was walking with a small limp. And Anakin….well he had something in his eyes, something that Obi-Wan chalked up to the shock of being confronted by a Sith Lord, then experiencing a harrowing descent into the atmosphere of Alderaan.

"Any landing you can walk away from," Sifo-Dyas chuckled as he motioned towards the large gash their ship had carved in the Earth. "Is a happy one, Kenobi. I remember my last visit to Endor's moon," the elder Jedi grinned as he wiped the blood from his face. "Sank a speeder into the root of a tree. The root," he said as he spread his arms apart, "was as thick around as a Wookie is tall. Barely made it off the blasted thing in time."

"It's a day's walk to the Capitol," Qui-Gon inserted, as he looked over the horizon. "Maybe Half a day's if we hoof it. An hour on Speeders," he continued as he stroked his small beard. "This area is fresh farmland. I'm more than willing to bet we can find a local who'll be able to provide us with transport."

"If they're still here," Obi-Wan noted, as he pointed towards the black blotches hovering above the shimmering line that was the city of Aldera. "I think most will be making their way towards the spaceports, trying desperately to get off-world."

"Let's hope they do," Anakin remarked as he leaned against the hull of the crashed ship. "Better to be out in the stars than here when the troops arrive."

"The blockade will shoot down any ships attempting to leave the system," Qui-Gon replied sternly as he furrowed his brow, something which he did often when he was attempting to solve a problem. "Better that they stay grounded until we can send word to the Senate and the Council. Then, they'll be able to send in a fleet." He turned back to Obi-Wan and Sifo-Dyas and continued with, "our priority will still be to get the Royal Family out safely. Then we can work on getting transport off this planet. Or a message, at least," he said, gravely. Obi-Wan knew that tone of voice very well, he had heard it a great many times while working with the esteemed Jedi Master. "Anakin, Obi-Wan, I want you two to sort through the wreckage, look for anything we can take with us and use. Dyas," he said, turning to his old friend, "we'll have a look around, see if we can spot a local farm or small town. It's getting dark," he added in, "so we'd better not linger here for too long. We'll also need to find shelter before long."

"The ship would make an excellent shelter," Sifo-Dyas pointed out with a shrug. "Insulated. It'll protect us from the elements and…..the tracking beacon," he said, as he pressed his metal palm into his face. "They might find it!"

"Exactly," Qui-Gon replied as he pointed to a rock outcropping in the distance. "That cliff looks like it'd be a good camp. There's likely a few caves for us to sleep in, and that'll make it difficult for radar to find us." With that, he and Sifo-Dyas turned and left. Within a few minutes, they were nowhere to be seen. And that left Obi-Wan alone with his Padawan for the first time since they had left the Temple. Now he was free to discuss the fear he saw behind his student's eyes.

"The Sith Lords," Obi-Wan said softly, as the two of them searched the ship's remains together. "They're unnerving, aren't they?"

"I thought they were all wiped out," Anakin stated in a matter-of-fact tone, causing Obi-Wan to sigh. "During the siege of Dathomir. That's what the temple records say."

"That was their last stronghold," Obi-Wan said tentatively with a small nod. Though Master Yoda had been Obi-Wan's primary teacher, the diminutive Jedi master was sometimes called away on matters that were either too dangerous for a Padawan, or too important. So, on those occasions, Qui-Gon Jinn, himself a former apprentice of Yoda, took Obi-Wan on missions, and filled in the gaps in Obi-Wan's training. After all, for all his mastery of the force, Yoda was by no means an accomplished pilot, or experienced with dealing with the underworld. Not to mention that in the Jedi Master's very advanced age of eight-hundred and seventy-five years old, training a Padawan in the use of a lightsaber was almost out of the picture. That was where Qui-Gon Jinn had filled in for him.

And during that time, Obi-Wan had come to know a few things about that particular battle that very few Jedi, even members of the council, did not. Which was saying something. "It wasn't a siege, however, Padawan. It was a rout," he breathed heavily, remembering the very moment he had bravely asked Qui-Gon about it. "A Sith Enclave numbering at about One-Thousand versus Two-Thousand Jedi Knights and Twenty Thousand Republic ships. It was hardly a fair battle, but the Sith put up a fight," he continued, telling Anakin the same story every Jedi Master told his Padawan at some point. "The Battle lasted for three weeks. Orbital strikes were useless, once they retreated into the caves. That was when the ground assault reached its peak. In the end, only half of the Jedi who participated in the Battle survived to see the end. And the Senate wanted the victory to be absolute, so they broadcasted our victory over the holonet. Qui-Gon and Sifo-Dyas, the only two Jedi who survived the duel with Darth Plageuis himself, were forced to regurgitate the rumor that the Sith had been exterminated."

"But they were," Anakin replied hastily. "No one could have escaped-."

"Since then," Obi-Wan corrected him, "there have been three Sith sightings. One was killed on Sullust by Master Sifo-Dyas. Another killed herself before we could capture her, and the final one was brought to us by a young Mandalorian. They haven't gone extinct yet, Padawan," he said gravely, as the two of them searched the hull of the ship. "Merely scattered to the stars. Perhaps the two we encountered are the last of the order. Perhaps not." He finished, as he found a pair of rangefinders, which had been discarded in a locked box, opened by the crash of the ship.

"These could be useful," Anakin shrugged as he held up three flares, as well as a hydro-spanner. Obi-Wan flashed his apprentice a quick smile as he got to his feet, knowing that they should leave before long. He signalled this to the younger Jedi as he noticed several dark blotches in the sky turning towards them. Scouts, no doubt. Sent to check on the crash before it got dark. Which it would soon. The two of them tore off into the long grass in no time at all, using the Force to augment their strides and stamina. Though Obi-Wan had to slow down considerably, in order to keep his Padawan in his line of sight.

xxx

"Get your hands off me!" Bail Organa distinctly heard his younger sister, Padmé Organa shout as she was dragged forcefully into the Throne room. And he was conflicted. One part of him wanted her to fight against their Mandalorian captors with all her strength. But another part of him realized that course of action would get her killed. Appalled, he watched as the savage warriors thrust her, and her four handmaidens to the ground. He didn't want to think about what had happened to her bodyguards. "I said-!"

"Ease up, Princess," a green-armoured Mandalorian hissed as he passed by Bail. "You've got company coming. Mommy and Daddy wouldn't be too pleased with your behavior," the man sneered as he leaned in close to her face. Too close, in Bail's mind. He forcefully jerked against his captors, earning both a rifle butt to his back and the Commander's attention. "and keep in mind that we only need one member of the Royal Family alive to…..legalize this….situation," he said as he brought his blaster rifle to bear on Bail's head. Bail, however, did not avert his gaze. He was better than that. He was Bail, of the house of Alderaan. Prince of his people. A proud descendant of many wise and powerful monarchs. He would not bow down to such crude bullies. No one in his family would.

"Point that thing somewhere else, Boba," a cool, female voice snapped as a blue armour wearing soldier entered. Based on how the other Mandalorians reacted to her presence, she was the one in charge. "We already lost the Queen to the initial assua-."

"NO!" Padmé cried out as she slipped from her restraints and darted forward, obviously trying to hit the female commander. The commander simply tilted her head as the Princess reared back her fist, and delivered a punch to the commander's helmet. The resulting crack told Bail that the commander wasn't harmed at all, and that his younger sister's hand was definitely broken. Padmé recoiled her hand in pain as she slumped down to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably as the doors to the palace opened wide.

Seven silhouettes entered. Four where carrying blaster rifles, and were unmistakably more Mandalorians. Two more, Bail noticed, were red-skinned aliens. One was a Zabrak Male, the other a Twi'lek female. The male's black robes flowed down his thick muscles crisply, but there was an air of rage on his face. As he approached, Bail felt himself getting physically colder, and he wondered if the Zabrak had something to do with that. He was very terrifying, after all. The final figure was his Father, King Veel Organa, a man late in his years, with long flowing white hair.

Immediately Veel rushed towards his daughter, comforting her injured hand with soothing words. His purple cape fell to the floor as he helped her back up, before he was forcefully torn away from them both.

"Savages!" Veel roared against his captors. "Absolute savagery! What could Alderaan have possibly done to-!"

"What has Alderaan done?" the Zabrak hissed with a voice that was like cold steel. "What has Alderaan done? The crime committed by your people is simple," he mocked confidently as he paced around the King. Bail wanted his proud father to turn tail and run as fast as possible. There was no way that the Zabrak's presence would end well for them. "Your Planet has stood by and watched as whole systems have become rotten from within. Criminal gangs use your spaceports to further their own goals!" he growled as he clenched his fist in rage, "corrupt politicians sour the land with bribery and lies! Your crime, King Veel," the Zabrak snarled one last time, "is serving a Republic too weak to protect anyone but itself!"

"The Galactic Republic has stood for a thousand years!" King Veel roared as he stood to his full height, still shorter than the Zabrak, but somehow bigger than any in the room. "I am proud to stand by their side, as are the rest of my people! We will not falter before a gang of bullies and brutes!" he pressed his hand against the red-skinned tormentor as he continued, "The Jedi Knights will-!" Snap-hiss! A crimson beam of light stabbed straight out from the Zabrak's hand, slicing clean through the King's heart in an instant.

Padmé cried out in pain.

Bail roared with rage.

The Zabrak merely chuckled as the King's lifeless corpse fell to the ground, a smouldering hole where his heart had been.

xxx

"A Master and an Apprentice," Sifo-Dyas muttered as the two of them made their way through the tall Alderaanian grass. "That's something we haven't seen for a long time. Not since-."

"Not since Dathomir, I know," Qui-Gon replied with a disturbed tone of voice. Both Jedi were thinking the same thing. They both knew that Plageuis's apprentice had never actually been found, despite what the official records said. It had been said apprentice who cut off Dyas's arm, after all. And Qui-Gon knew that his old friend was eager for some well-deserved payback. "It could have been a fluke, my friend. We mustn't leap to conclusions without investigating further." He ran a hand through his greying hair as he perked his ears. He could almost hear something around them, but he couldn't quite place it. Perhaps it was just the situation around them playing on his senses. "Yoda will know what to do, once we contact him."

"The little green imp always seems to know everything," Sifo-Dyas chuckled as he made his way over a fallen tree. "Especially since he….well got back."

"You know what happened to the last Padawan to call him that," Jinn replied with a small grin hinting at the edge of his mouth. "I don't believe Kota has ever been the same since that punishment."

"Has Yoda ever told you what he saw?" Sifo-Dyas asked as they reached the treeline. Trunks thicker than a man's torso surrounded them on all sides. The ground was littered with fallen leaves, most of which had been crushed by a large animal, it seemed. "On his journey? He's very closed off about it, but you two have always been close."

"He only told me what I needed to know," Jinn replied hastily with a small wave of his hand. He looked down, and noticed just how many of the leaves and branches had been trampled in the area. Obviously it was a well-traversed piece of land. Perhaps they would be able to find a road, or a sign which would point them to a settlement. "Besides, we have much more pressing concerns. Like the fact that I saw at least one Mandalorian fighter pursuing us." Both men exchanged a knowing look with one another. Mandalorians were some of the toughest warriors in the known Galaxy. And their involvement meant trouble. More trouble than they were already dealing with.

"Yet another reason we need to contact the capitol," Dyas sighed deeply, "to send us a regiment so we can….now this is interesting," he paused as he leaned down. Qui-Gon followed his lead, and found himself staring at a large pile of feces. Not exactly what he'd call interesting. In fact, it was downright repulsive. "This is fresh," Sifo-Dyas muttered as he took a whiff of the dung. "A few minutes old, I'd say. And from a large animal. Large enough to feed four Jedi." Something clicked in Qui-Gon's head as he realized what his friend was getting at. They both knew that none of them would be in the right state to infiltrate the capitol on an empty stomach, even if they made it all the way there. And that wasn't even accounting for the presence of two Sith, and a host of the galaxy's toughest soldiers. Jinn's stomach growled in protest of his apparent hunger, as he realized that he hadn't eaten since before they left the temple. "Quadrupeds. At least ten of them. Very large too," Dyas finished with a sigh, as Qui-Gon spotted the beasts his friend was referring too.

"Nerfs," he said as he pointed to a small outcropping, where the aforementioned animals stood, grazing. They were rather large, almost as long as the average speeder bike, and well over six feet at the shoulders. They were immensely fat, which told the Jedi Master that they were well-fed, and would feed them for a few days at the very least. A good thing, if they had to wait for reinforcements to arrive.

However, before Qui-Gon could do anything, he felt the barrel of a blaster rifle being pushed against his back. Sifo-Dyas spun around, with his hand flying to the hilt of his double-bladed lightsaber, until a voice cut him off.

"Hands were I can see them," a young male growled, "or I'll blast your friend here."

"Who are you?" Qui-Gon asked, undeterred by the rifle aimed at him.

"Owen Lars," the young man grunted, "and you two are gonna tell me exactly what the hell is going on here."