Ikaro flicked a couple of switched. For such a large starship, the Perdition sure was simple to use. "And now. . . We are in orbit above Mandalore."
He walked in to check in Katawane in her quarters. He walked in and hit the lights on. He was met with a groan. "Urgh. . . Ikaro?"
"No, it's a spooky ghost." He replied cynically. "I left you in here last night. Just in case you threw up on me. You've got a helluva hangover, looks like?"
"Ow, ow, ow!" She said slowly, clumsily putting a finger to her lips. "Sh— . . . Shh. . ."
"Eheheheh! I'll bring you some food and water. It does the body good after some, or a lot, of my old tihaar."
He went and got a simple cup of water and some bread for her, and put it down beside her. "Take it in slowly, now, Kat. Or you'll make a mess of yourself."
"Thanks," She said, sitting up.
"Also, you'll want to shower. You slept in your bodysuit, after all. I can't imagine how that is for a woman. It's gotta be all. . . I'll be maintaining my weapons in the bay."
He dismantled the WESTAR 62 in a matter of seconds and cleaned its pipes and ventilation. Reassembling it with skill, he moved on to the darksaber. He didn't like to refer to it as his darksaber as he didn't believe he'd lived up to the man who'd carried it before him. The last Mandalore, Klavier Artyom Fett; his grandfather. And every time he thought of the legendary General, he gripped the darksaber tightly in his hands. And he pictured Boba Fett in his head, and wanted to just. . . unleash on him in full fury. He wanted the Nemesis in flames. It didn't give him joy, picturing that. He respected him as a great Fett. Like himself. A proud warrior. The last of Jango's bloodline.
Ikaro had fallen in battle before, and was defeated, but he had been resuscitated. He always told people that his work wasn't done in this damned universe until he buried Boba Fett. It was his duty, and his very honor rested on it. And if he didn't care for honor, then he'd keep his only for his grandfather.
As the rumours had it, Boba became a solitary man and found peace in the idea that Jango had become one with the Manda: the old Mandalorian belief in a kind of collective consciousness of the dead. And Boba believed that Jango led them in the afterlife. Bizarre. And it didn't sit well with Ikaro Fett.
Ikaro broke free of his thoughts and looked over the darksaber. Activating it, the beam curved but straightened true. He flicked it off and put it on his belt.
Bleep, bleep, bleep. His helmet sounded. He pushed a button on the side of it.
"Ikaro Fett receiving."
"Sir, it's Sergeant Riefos! There's trouble at Evaar'la Naritir! The Ranger Outpost's been attacked!"
Ikaro began moving to the cockpit immediately. "Copy that. What's the situation, Sergeant?"
"It's bad news, Sir. I'm deploying our XA-24 gunships—"
"All of them?"
"Yessir—"
"No, deploy some of the General's of Clone gunships with the daughter of Styx Fett as acting Commander. Strike fear! Shock and awe, ner vod." Ikaro settled into the seat and began to take the ship into the atmosphere. "Use the XA-24s as patrol for everywhere else on the continent and use light patrol for all the others. Have our orbital guns locked and loaded for Nemesis Legion gunships. This may only be a distraction, and not just a co-ordinated attack on Evaar'la Naritir. I'm on my way. Be safe, Sergeant."
"Will do sir!"
