The Darkest Lord

Chapter XI: Ambush

Darth Revan felt his ship lurch violently as the hyperspace tunnels surrounding it vanished from sight, replaced by the endless black backdrop of space, dotted only with shimmering stars. His first instinct was that someone, perhaps Captain Sazer, had been navigating improperly, which would account for an early exit from hyperspace, but he quickly discarded the notion. The ship's jerking movement, which had knocked most of the officers surrounding him out of their chairs and onto the floor, had been too sudden. He looked towards Sazer, who was scrambling to return to his station. The Dark Lord had a feeling that he knew exactly what his flagship's captain would say, however. They were under attack.

"Lord Revan, we've been pulled from hyperspace!" he confirmed.

"Imperials?" Revan asked as he approached the Sith man calmly.

"I believe so," he replied. "There's a small fleet waiting for us!"

The former Jedi Knight looked at the captain's scanner. Indeed, a full-scale Imperial fleet had been prepared for their arrival. At least two dozen star destroyers, along with twenty light escort vehicles, accompanied by a swarm of TIE fighters were hovering above a nearby planet. Beneath his mask, Revan's eyes widened slightly. How had they known that the Sith and Mandalorian forces would be coming? The fact that they had determined where they would be at what time implied only one thing: a mole. Someone within their group had sold them out to the Empire. His fist clenched violently.

"Lord Revan, they've sent a transmission," Sazer reported.

"Play it," he ordered.

Sazer quickly keyed a few quick commands into his computer and a holographic image sprouted out of a small projector. A small man was now looking up at Revan, his arms folded over his chest and his posture altogether tall and confident. The Dark Lord couldn't be sure, due to the blue representation of the man's image, but his skin did not appear to be normal. It was a deeper shade of blue than most holographic images of any humans, though not in the same fashion as a dark skinned man's. He had a sneaking suspicion that whoever was standing in front of him was not entirely human. Judging by the number of metals and honors on the left side of his uniform, he was an accomplished military official. Revan, despite his fury, was intrigued.

"Darth Revan," the man said with a heavily accented core world voice. "In the name of the Galactic Empire and his supreme Majesty, Emperor Palpatine, you are to deactivate all of your ships and surrender to our forces. If you do not comply, we will open fire."

"Shut it off," Revan ordered after hearing only this. "This bastard has no idea what he just walked into." Sazer did as he was ordered and the image vanished before it could finish its speech. "Captain, red alert. Have everyone report to their battle stations and send word to the rest of the fleet."

"Yes sir."

Aboard the Star Destroyer leading the small Imperial fleet, Mitth'raw'nuruodo, better known to the galaxy as Grand Admiral Thrawn, smirked as he saw the red light above his holocapturer, indicating that his transmission to the Spirit of Revenge had been cut and the Sith would not be complying with orders. "Captain Pellaeon," he said smoothly as he turned to the senior officer aboard his ship. "Engage."

"Yes sir," the middle aged Imperial replied as he stroked his thick mustache.

The TIE fighters suddenly shot forward, no longer restrained by orders to cease fire, towards the Sith and Mandalorian ships. Before they were in firing range of their enemies, however, a wave of Sith fighters were rocketing towards them, the first line of defense for Revan's men. The two groups of starships converged on each other's position and the dogfights broke out. Jets of red and green superheated plasma shot back and forth between the two forces. The Imperial TIEs had a major advantage in terms of speed, though their design, light shielding, and thin exterior made them very vulnerable to damage. A single shot from a Sith fighter could easily tear right through a TIE, whereas the TIEs had time fire several times before any of their enemies would fall.

Before too long, superior speed won out and the TIEs were flying past the Sith, towards their capital ships. Revan, from the bridge of his ship, saw this and was quick to retaliate. "Fire on them before they get near us," he ordered.

The Sith Interdictor ships began to fire enormous jets of fiery red plasma at the incoming TIEs, taking out two or three with each successful shot. Meanwhile, the Mandalorian ships, under the command of Gladius Vevut, moved to attack the Imperial command vessels. The Mandalorian corvettes, swift and nimble medium sized transports, shot forward, their eyes set on the shield generators at the top of each star destroyer. Thrawn saw this threat before it was even a concern and snickered. Six of the nineteen corvettes were destroyed before they could even come close to the star destroyers. To their victory, though, one of the corvettes' dieing act proved useful. The ship, unable to control itself, spun out of control and smashed into the nearest Imperial capital ship. The damage was not severe but the deflector shields were knocked out, leaving it vulnerable even to the fire of one-man star fighters.

Upon receiving orders to attack, rather than defend the fleet, the Sith fighters all swarmed towards this one damaged ship, firing on it ceaselessly. One fighter, piloted by a woman named Sarna, fired three successive shots at the vessel's main viewport. The glass shattered, creating a vacuum on the bridge. All important crew members within were sucked out into space, leaving the transport unmanned for the most part. It slowly began to sink, falling out of line with the rest of the fleet. The ship was dead in the water. The Sith never gave it a second glance, turning their attention to the rest of the Imperial force.

"Boarding crafts," Thrawn stated calmly.

Heavily armored ships containing legions of Stormtroopers were dispatched from the Imperial capital ships, which the Sith knew to contain field soldiers. The pilots of these vehicles were all well trained, top of the Imperial Academy, and were able to successfully maneuver in and out of the way of blaster fire. Only a few of them were destroyed by the time that they reached the Sith and Mandalorian vessels. One by one, they began to latch onto the airlocks of their enemy's transports before the Stormtroopers planted explosives at the doors, blowing the heavy metal doors out of the way.

On the bridge of the Spirit of Revenge, Sazer read an incoming security transmission. His eyes widened and he turned to face his commander. "Lord Revan!" he cried out. "We've been boarded!"

"Clever," the Dark Lord conceded to his opponents. "Which airlocks did they come through?"

"Two in the hangar, the engineering lock, and one near our armory," came the response.

That wasn't good. Security in the hangar wouldn't be a problem. His troops could repel the invaders without much effort, but engineering and the armory were different stories. The ship's reactor did not merit security most of the time, seeing as how few enemies ever attempted to enter through the airlocks. They were narrow entries, which would allow his forces to pick off invaders as they bottlenecked through. Still, he would rather have not chanced such a sensitive area of the ship. The armory contained all of the extra weapons that were stashed on board the Spirit of Revenge, including the prototype Imperial-Star Forge hybrid weapons.

While Revan was busy considering his options, one of the golden armored troops stationed on the bridge slid his chair backwards. He stood up and pulled a sword from his hip, inching towards the Dark Lord of the Sith slowly. His grip on the weapon was unusually tight, panic causing him to tense up. The thundering in his chest urging him on, he increased his haste, accelerating towards Revan. He closed the distance between the two with each step he took. Raising his Mandalorian Tremor over his head, he prepared to cleave his target's head clean from his shoulders.

"Lord Revan!" someone cried.

The traitor swung his sword quickly. The warning had come just in time. Revan swerved out of the way, taking only a small clip to the shoulder, which his armor stood up against. Only a small cut in the black fiber marked any sign of attack. The Dark Lord, however, let his fury overwhelm him. A burst of blue-white electricity ripped from his finger tips, dancing across the surface of the golden armored man's body and sizzling the skin beneath his protective garb. A high pitched scream tore through the bridge as the man was electrocuted. This only heightened Revan's anger, causing him to intensify the force of his assault. The tendrils of dark side energy became thicker, forcing the poor man to his knees. Whatever he was trying to scream was unintelligible, though no one in the room had any doubt that it was a plea for mercy. He would receive none. Treason was punishable by death. Attempting to assassinate the Sith Emperor merited a slow, agonizing passing, which would serve as a reminder to all those in the galaxy why they should not cross Revan. Unfortunately, such a death was time consuming and time was limited.

Revan ceased his attack. The golden figure crumpled to the floor, dead. The scent of burnt flesh mixed with superheated metal filled the room. His skin had probably melted away, adhering to the armor. Discovering who the man had been would be impossible now, not that Revan cared all that much. Looking down at him, the former Jedi General snarled. Something caught his notice before he turned away. Crouching down, the Sith Lord scooped up the man's weapon into his hand. His eyes, unless they deceived him, were detecting a sword of Mandalorian design. A thousand questions suddenly began to race through his mind. Had Gladius betrayed him? Had Gladius been betrayed? Had the man before him even been one of the Sith who had come forward in time during the Battle Over Coruscant or had he been a renegade Mandalorian who had stolen Sith armor and stowed away on the Spirit. For a fraction of a second, Revan regretted mutilating the man so badly. Then his mind returned to the current situation.

"Sir, Imperials are nearing our position!"

Revan stood up. Sure enough, just as Sazer finished speaking, blaster fire could be heard on the door outside of the bridge. How they had managed to penetrate the Sith forces so quickly would remain a mystery, one which there was no time to ponder. The Dark Lord no longer was sure of who he could trust aboard his ship and would take no chances of letting another mole with privileged information escape. A plan had already started to formulate in his mind. It would mean a large sacrifice but it would be necessary for the good of the Sith Empire.

All of the golden armored Sith in the room had moved from their stations, towards the blast doors. Each one held his or her blaster at the ready, preparing for the moment the Stormtroopers broke through the door and flooded the room. As Sazer pulled a small laser pistol from his belt, Revan called his lightsaber to his gloved hand utilizing only the power of his mind. As the door exploded, sending shrapnel and debris into the midst of the Sith troopers, the crimson blade of the Dark Lord's weapon sprang forth from the hilt, casting a faint red glow across the dark metal floor. With calm, calculated steps, he walked forward, towards the skirmish between his men and the Imperial forces, watching a volley of red energy soar back and forth between the two sides, which took down more of his men than Imperials.

He was the Dark Lord of the Sith. In the short twenty-five years that he had lived, he had accomplished more than most men could accomplish in twenty-five lifetimes. He had been the son of a crime lord on Deralia with no chance of being any more than petty criminal like his father, statistically speaking. His mother, having seen what he was capable of, had turned him over to the Jedi, where he had flourished. Even the most powerful masters were awed by his control of the Force and the sheer magnitude of the raw potential inside of him. At the age of seventeen, he had been promoted to the rank of Jedi Knight. Seventeen! Most Jedi didn't reach that level until their early twenties. Just a year later, he had become the general in command of the Jedi forces of the Republic Navy, leading the crusade against the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders. The Revanchist he had been called. Within two years, he managed to drive back an unstoppable force, almost driving them to extinction in the process. Once he had learned of the folly of the Jedi Council, he had against elected to take up his lightsaber for the greater good of the Republic. The Jedi, having feared the so called "True Sith" had remained safely in their temples and praxeums, while the galaxy had burned away before them. Symbolically, Revan christened his empire after the Sith, feeling that it was only appropriate that they should be the ones to purge the Jedi from the galaxy. His war with the Jedi, a Jedi Civil War some had called it, had made him known throughout the galaxy. There hadn't been a single man, woman, or child in the Republic that hadn't known his name. Having accomplished all of this, he would not allow it to be ruined by the uncontrollable gluttony that one man had for absolute dominance over the galaxy. All of that had been snatched away from him by a stupid accident, which had sent thousands of Sith into the future. Everything he had worked to accomplish had been tarnished and spoiled by men like this Emperor and men like his predecessor, Darth Bane. The Sith were now known for their lust for power and glory, while he had intended for the Sith to be the cleansing force of the galaxy.

His men were dead. The Stormtroopers had managed to gun down all of their foes using superior numbers and weaponry. There were at least twenty Stormtroopers still alive, with several more corpses dressed in white armor scattered amongst the ones in gold. The odds weren't in his favor. Still, the Force was with him. The dark side was his ally, as it had been for so many years now. They didn't stand a chance.

Blaster bolts began to fly through the air, directly towards him. He moved faster than their cloned eyes could keep up with, sprinting to the side, where a large electrical conduit stood. With a shove of his arm, the voltage channel was ripped from the ground and tossed in the midst of a small group of the troopers. Sparks danced across the floor, striking three or four of the soldiers, paralyzing them momentarily. This gave the Dark Lord time to hurl his saber at them, cutting them down and impaling a fifth Imperial in the chest. With the same velocity as before, Revan closed the distance between himself and his saber. Taking it back into his gloved hand in a reverse grip, he yanked it free and took on a somewhat inexperience Shien form. It was a style he didn't practice often, though the basic concept was a simple one to grasp. The long, sweeping motions it implored were ideal for deflecting blaster fire. Ducking to avoid a well placed shot, Revan crouched down and sprang on two troops that were standing side by side, sweeping his blade across their midsections. A push with the Force sent them rolling out of the destroyed blast doors, into the hall. They were either dead or unconscious. Revan didn't know or care. They weren't a threat anymore.

The remaining baker's dozen of troopers knew that they wouldn't need to change tactics. Having seen Darth Vader's skill with a lightsaber in training simulations, they knew that their blasters were probably worthless at this point. None of them had been equipped with vibroblades though, so there weren't many options. A more imaginative troop dove for a fall Sith soldier, seeing the grenades on her belt. Grabbing them all at once, he pulled the pins free and hurled them in random directions. Revan, with years of experience in the field against much more creative Mandalorians, leapt upwards, grabbing onto an electrical line on the ceiling. The grenades detonated, killing more Stormtroopers. The blast from an adhesive grenade did manage to send some of the azure glue-like substance up towards the Dark Lord. He was forced to drop in order to avoid being stuck to the bridge of the Spirit's roof, landing beside a burning body. A single blaster bolt was fired.

Beneath his mask, Revan smirked as he heard the last Imperial soldier drop to the floor. He took a moment to check himself before turning to Captain Sazer, who still held his pistol at the ready. A small billow of smoke from the barrel indicated that it had been he who had killed the last Stormtrooper. "Loyal," the Dark Lord thought to himself. Despite the logic of his plan, he saw no need for his captain to be punished as well. Extinguishing his lightsaber, he mentally decided that he would spare the captain's life, if possible.

"Sazer!" he called before he left the bridge. "Send an order to withdraw to the rest of the fleet. Then bring us in as close to the ship leading the Imperials. After that, get to your escape pod and get the hell out of here."

"Lord Revan?" the Sith officer asked as he stood at attention across the room, not believing what he was hearing. "You cannot mean to destroy the Spirit!"

"There may be more Imperial spies aboard this ship. I'm sending them all to Hell, along with my ship, if necessary. But there's no need for you to be killed too."

"Revan, you can't!" the middle-aged man cried out. In the four years that Sazer had been Revan's captain, he had grown to both respect his commander and love his ship. Seeing anything happen to either of them was not something that he wanted. The self-destruct sequence could only be initiated by overloading the reactor, which would leave Revan with very little time to make his own escape. Unfortunately, he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. If the Lord of the Sith had set his mind to a decision, then arguing was a demonstration of stupidity. Sazer was not a stupid man. Revan didn't need him in order to go through his plan. It would have been a simple matter to have killed the captain and program the Spirit of Revenge to fly towards the Imperial fleet before making his way down the reactor. Revan had chosen to spare him. Therefore, his shoulders sagged in defeat and he gave the Dark Lord a resigned nod.

"Gilean," the red and black armored warrior said softly, dropping the captain's last name. "You have been a loyal soldier and a good friend. Take care of yourself."

"You too, Revan."

The Sith Lord turned on his heel and strode out of the room, leaving his officer to fulfill his part of the agreement. Sazer turned to the computer console at the front of the room and began to key in the commands necessary to take them right up to Grand Admiral Thrawn's ship. Before he made his escape, he would get the Spirit within spitting distance of the Imperials. The blast from the Interdictor's core meltdown would take out most of transports within a kilometer.

On the other side of the space battle, Grand Admiral Thrawn thought that the battle was going exceptionally well, though he gave no indication of such other than a very faint smirk. The Imperials had completely surrounded the Sith and Mandalorian forces and Stormtroopers had boarded all of the capital ships. All of the large Sith ships had sustained heavy fire and the Mandalorians weren't fairing much better. The Chiss warlord could only picture the havoc his men were wreaking on the outdated warships. His red eyes snapped to attention, however, when he looked out at the battle. Despite constant fire from the TIE fighters, a Sith warship had broken from the ranks and was soaring right towards them at maximum burn. While that one ship came closer and closer, the rest of Darth Revan's forces seemed to be breaking through the Imperial siege in an attempt to flee.

"Do not let them escape," Thrawn ordered Pellaeon.

Based on what he could see, the Grand Admiral merely assumed that the remaining ship had "honorably" decided to ignore the retreat order and go down in a blaze of glory. Not knowing the difference between the two as a result of limited resources on both Mandalorian and ancient Sith technology, the Grand Admiral assumed that the ship was Mandalorian. He was wrong. The Spirit of Revenge was jetting forward, towards the Imperial forces in a mad dash. Seeing only a desperate attempt to make a last ditch effort. "Captain," he said to Pellaeon. "Do not fire on that vessel. Activate the tractor beams and prepare a short ranged EMP. We'll shut them down and tow them back to Coruscant for interrogation."

Big mistake.

Back on his vessel, Darth Revan stepped out of the elevator, finding a Dark Jedi that belonged to him engaged in combat with a small group of Stormtroopers. With her twin sabers blazing, the woman was having no trouble deflecting the blaster bolts away from herself, though her lack of experience made it difficult for her to return them to the troops who were firing on her. Although her face was obscured by the black hood that his Dark Jedi wore, Revan was able to recognize her by the series of grunts and battle cries she emitted as she fought. Unless he was mistaken, her name was Wilea, an apprentice of Jorak Uln. Realizing this, he knew that it was small wonder that she hadn't won out against her attackers yet. Knowing that he had little time to spare before Sazer had the Spirit of Revenge within striking distance of the Imperial ships, he chose not to extend this conflict. Like a feral Kath Hound, he rushed towards the Stormtroopers, ignoring the shots that struck his armor harmlessly. Once he was in their midst, he used the Force to lift himself into the air and create a dome of energy, which exploded in every direction. The repulsion attack crushed the soldiers, killing most of them and leaving the rest unconscious.

"Lord Revan!" Wilea gasped as she approached him.

Not one to take a chance in a situation as delicate as this, Revan turned to the Dark Jedi and placed a "comforting" hand on her cheek. "I am sorry," he stated honestly, knowing that it was unlikely that she had been a part of the attack on his life. Still, he had work to do. He took her head in both hands and gave a sharp twist. A loud crack met his ears and the body crumpled to the floor beneath him. Without a second thought, he continued on with his mission. As he had traveled through the dieing transport, the Dark Lord witnessed how successful the white clad soldiers had been against his own. The Sith had underestimated the strength of Emperor Palpatine's forces, a mistake that would have been inexcusable under any other circumstances. Today, it didn't matter. Every man and woman on his ship was a suspect to him now. In recent years, he had come to trust all of them far too much and it had led to a betrayal. It was a mistake which could only be rectified in one possible way. He would kill them all. The blood spilled by the Stormtroopers cost nothing because the blood of traitors was worth nothing. A demonstration seemed to be in order.

When he had been a padawan, Traya, then a Jedi Master, had taught him something which the Jedi teachings would have frowned upon had they known. The historian had told him that there were times when it became necessary for a leader to be feared in order to keep those subservient to him in line. As a child, this had made little sense. Inflicting fear unto others didn't follow the Jedi way, though he resolved that he would understand when he became older. Sure enough, he came to understand during the Mandalorian Wars. The wars had served as a crucible, which had molded him into a cold, logical leader, who knew how to use every advantage to its fullest. Fear was an advantage that a leader could make do without. Fear had the power to put down rebellion and insurrection. It governed those who would be otherwise outspoken and kept them subservient.

Fear had become his ally. Brilliant student that he was, he had learned to make the most use of it. Demonstrations of power and authority struck fear into the hearts of the Republic and the Sith Empire. Planet-wide suffering had shown the Republic what rebellion after conquest meant. Malak had defied him by ordering an orbital bombardment of Telos, which had reduced the small world to a pile of rubble. At that time, Telos IV had been the only civilized world of the outer rim. Losing it meant losing a powerful structure of control for the Sith. As a result of this, Revan had punished his apprentice. In a fury, the Dark Lord took his lightsaber and severed his apprentice's lower jaw. Once Malak had recovered, his rebellious nature began to diminish. He receded into himself, no longer voicing his opinion and obeying every order to the letter. After seeing the success of this move, it became Revan's policy of punishing the slightest betrayal with the utmost severity. An attempt on his life merited the death of a couple hundred Sith.

At last, the Lord of the Sith came to the reactor core, where the powerful Rakatan energy source, a solar powered siphon that redirected power throughout the ship, glowed eerily. It was contained in a large transparent dome, which prevented any radiation from being emitted into the Interdictor class vessel. A computer terminal had been placed at the northern end of the dome, which controlled all of its activities. Having designed it himself, Revan was the only one that knew how to activate it or use any of its functions. Most of the time, the computer simply ran on autopilot, never needing to be overseen by a sentient being unless a change in the ship's function was made. The Dark Lord came to the computer and began to key in numerous authorization commands, pass codes, and identification verification checkpoints. At the very end, he leaned in towards the small microphone that was attached to the device and spoke. "Darth Revan, system override 4A93H82."

With full access granted to him, the Dark Lord of the Sith set silent core implosion for five minutes. In just five minutes, the entire ship would explode and he hoped to put as much distance between himself and the blast as possible. Whether or not that was possible, remained to be seen. Once a digital countdown began on the computer monitor, Revan took off in the other direction, sprinting towards the escape pods.

The Spirit of Revenge's nose slammed into the front of Grand Admiral Thrawn's Imperial transport, causing both crafts the shake violently on impact. The idiots in the weapon's bay of the Chiss warlord's ship had waited too long. Firing an EMP now would result in the complete shutdown of both ships, which they could not afford. The only remaining option was two open fire at point blank range. And so they did. Jets of superheated plasma fired from the Star Destroyer, ripping through portions of the outdated Sith Interdictor. Despite their best efforts, however, the Imperials were too slow. The five minutes ticked by very quickly and the Spirit of Revenge's core imploded. The result was a blaze of fire, which engulfed everything in its path. Thrawn's ship was overtaken by the blast and reduced to cinders in mere moments, as were all of the nearby TIE fighters that were attempting to fire of the dieing Sith vessel.

The fleet comprised of Mandalorian and Sith forces had received the order to withdraw and had promptly complied, sustaining moderate casualties. Both sides had lost exactly one major capital ship. Until further study of the scene was done, it would be impossible to tell the exact damage toll. Both sides, however, agreed in their theory about the men lost. Both sides had lost one powerful military figure. The Galactic Empire's thirteenth Grand Admiral had led the ambush on the Sith forces. The destruction of his ship without any warning had resulted in his death. It was also very likely that Darth Revan, who had stayed aboard his ship, had perished as well…

Several lightyears away, another Imperial fleet, this one led by Darth Vader, rolled forward into Mandalorian space. Fifty Star Destroyers, twenty Imperial corvettes, forty light battle cruisers, and countless TIE starfighters followed behind the newly completed Executor Super Star Destroyer. Nearly nineteen hundred meters long, the Executor sported more firepower than any other ship or space station at the Empire's disposal. Fresh out of the Kuat Drive Yards on Fondor, it made the perfect command vessel to lead the invasion of Mandalorian space. For nearly twenty years, the warrior society had resisted annexation into the Empire, despite the repeated efforts of Darth Sidious. While not ideal, they had not been hurting anything. Simple resistance had been one thing but now they had allied themselves with Darth Revan's Sith Empire, which would not be tolerated. They were more than stubborn conservatives, refusing to conform to the new ways of society. Now it was apparent that they were rebels, no different than those enlisted in the Rebel Alliance. Rebellion was treason. Treason warranted death.

At the heart of the Mandalorian sector, the planet Mandalore stood as the seat of their territory. The ancient race traced its origins to this planet and called it their capital, their home. Taking it from them would be the perfect way to establish the Empire's dominance over them. Trusting no one else with a mission of such importance, the Emperor had sent his apprentice to capture the homeworld and kill the man calling himself Mandalore. Reluctantly, Vader agreed to comply with orders, allowing one of the Grand Admirals to lead the ambush against Revan.

Beside Vader, a Mandalorian named Kalius Fett stood proudly, clad in black Neo-crusader armor that he had fashioned himself. It had been Fett who had betrayed Revan to the Empire and it had been Fett who had hired a mercenary to pose as a Sith soldier in order to kill the Dark Lord. The young Mandalorian had studied history and quickly deduced the true origins of his Sith "comrades." Knowing that Revan had killed Mandalore the Ultimate had justified his assassination. Kalius saw himself as the more honorable of the two and since Revan had killed a Mandalore, he was arguably a Mandalore himself. That moron, Gladius Vevut, was nothing more than a steward, waiting for the true monarch to return. Now that Kalius had arranged for Revan's death, he was the true leader of the Mandalorians.

Having learned all of this, Vader agreed to appoint him leader of the Mandalorians once they were conquered. The two now formed an alliance between the Mandalorians and the Galactic Empire, which would override the alliance with the Sith once Fett became the official Mandalore. Politics had never been his strong suit, but Kalius knew that he was finally going to realize his goal of becoming the Clan Leader of all Clans, as the ancients had called the position. Never for a moment did he suspect that he would be a puppet, controlled by Vader in the Emperor's name.

All he saw was a fleet of Imperial ships, raining fire down on the different Mandalorian worlds, with the Executor concentrating most of its fire on the world Mandalore itself. Thousands of his people died and their blood was on his hands, but all he saw was the glory that awaited him when he became king. He smiled at the chaos, knowing that war and sacrifice had bred his people into a strong society. If they were not strong enough to survive the Sith, they deserved to die.

"Alert he when the battle is over," he said to Vader as he walked turned away.

"As you wish," the Sith Lord replied, his respirator hissing softly as he looked down on the world that burned away into nothing.