Disclaimer: I do not own star wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain I'd be more then happy to drop everything and come running.

Episode 4: Mandalorian Captain

Chapter 36: Worlds Away

Pybus; ruins of Vortga's Palace:

Jarek was floating in an impenetrable haze. Blurred shapes and colors swam at the corners of his vision. Every time he tried to focus on them to decern their meaning they faded into the shadows. They resurfaced in his periphery whenever he glanced elsewhere. It was frustrating, like trying to catch smoke.

Somewhere in the darkness, he heard a sound. Like a voice calling out but distance distorted the words. The voice was familiar to him. If Jarek could just clear his mind of the shapes and colors both it and the words might become clear.

The voice called out again. The young man still couldn't hear the words but recognized the feminine lilt to them. The tone was also clearer; urgent, concerned, fearful...and angry. Jarek knew that voice. He'd heard it several times before; in front of him on a landing pad, at his back on a battlefield, and next to him in a bed.

"Wake up!" came the woman's insistent call. With it came memories. They passed before his eyes. Most faster then the kaleidoscope of light-speed, while others were so slow he could pick out individual details. A blaster bolt taking out Trask's eye. Gravity pulling him down a cistern into darkness. A Gand lobbing a grenade across a landing bay. A nexu hurtling across the tall grass. A Mirialin's body moving with his. A beskad piercing through a bound prisoner followed by her scream of anguish...or had that been his?

"Jarek! C'mon!" her voice cried out, closer now. The memories faded to the back of his mind. Synapses flared back to life as the light dawned across the horizon of his vision. He was becoming aware of his physical form. Consciousness brought with it the aches and pains; both new and old; physical and emotional. His head felt thick and his equilibrium was off.

As Jarek tried to reorient himself more recent memories played through his mind's eye. He saw the proximity alarm on his HUD. The Mandalorian had instinctively turned to face a new threat. His free hand had dropped to his belt and touched the device he'd taken off of Shalo Sherin. He hadn't intended to activate the personal shield. Jarek had done it by unconscious reflex.

The fire had encompassed him like a cocoon. For a brief moment in time, he'd been stunned by the beauty of the swirling spectrum of reds, oranges, and yellows. Then the concussive blast hit him like a ton of duristeel. More accurately the explosion had transferred to the ground beneath his feet. Jarek had flown back in a cloud of soil and rock. The fire and smoke fell away as the Mandalorian soared through the structure. The personal shield already weakened, failed just before he hit the interior wall. Then...he was floating once more in the haze, colors dancing in the shadows.

"Jarek! Please get up!" The woman's familiar voice was so close now. Jarek felt like he could reach out and touch her, but for some reason, his limbs wouldn't obey. Darkness still swirled at the edges of his vision. The warm embrace of unconsciousness beckoned him. Jarek wanted nothing more than to rest. He'd been running and fighting for so long...a long rest was exactly what he deserved.

"Come back!" this time it was practically in his ear. The volume and proximity sent a shock through him almost as bad as the pain that exploded from the side of his neck. What felt like spiky warmth shot through his veins igniting every one of his nerve endings along the way. Simultaneously every synapse and neuron in his brain lit up at once.

"Jarek Orion don't you leave me!" Era shouted. Her voice was as clear as a noonday bell toll. Light filled Jarek's vision as his heart pounded in his chest. He sat bolt right-up, both lungs expanding to rapidly intake the oxygen his body seemed to need desperately. His bruised and battered body protested the sudden motion, but somehow the young man was able to push the pain aside with little effort. Next, to him, Era knelt with a used stim-pack in one hand and an injector in the other. Whatever cock-tale of stimulant and pain killer she'd injected him with, it had certainly done the trick.

Jarek's racing mind took in her relieved expression as well as the tears streaking her dirty cheeks. She must've dragged him from the nearby pile of rubble to administer first-aid. When that didn't work she'd resorted to the stims. Risky but effective. She could've just as easily sent him into cardiac-arrest as saved him. Jarek was about to thank her when the surrounding events finally registered in his drug-induced fugue.

They were sheltered in a ruin. Explosions riddled the street outside. Detonations similar to the one that had sent Jarek though a wall was currently obliterating what remained of the Red Pact. Slick and Gare were huddled behind cover as particle beams shattered the ancient stone. A thought crystallized in Jarek's awakening mind; if the mercenaries were the focus of the explosions, then who was shooting at his crew?

Peering through the debris and smoke, Jarek felt his blood run cold. He recognized their attackers immediately. Three identically armored warriors stood amongst the devastation, blasters intent upon the death of the Outcast's crew. Of the three one stood out from the rest. Runes of war and strength in red and black covered his gunmetal beskar armor. It stood in sharp contrast to his companions battle-gear. It was a paint scheme Jarek thought he'd never see again.

"Because he's supposed to be dead!" he thought in some detached corner of his mind. It was a mistake he would remedy. The red haze fell like a gauzy curtain over his vision. He wasn't aware of Era calling his name nor did the pains of his injuries register. He was born aloft by shear strength of will matched only by his wrath. Jarek's vision tunneled as a name fell from his lips like a curse. "Gaegan!"

"Gaegan!"

The sound of his name momentarily distracted the Watcher from his task. He and his Watchers had been systematically whittling away at the Pantoran and Gank's cover. The ancient masonry disintegrated beneath the barrage sending up clouds of dust obscuring their cowering targets. The desire had been to drive them into seeking new shelter and pick them off as they retreated.

Hearing his name brought Gaegan up short. He knew that voice!

A shape began to emerge from the shadows of the structure. The blaster fire slowed before stopping altogether. The outline coalesced into the form of a man clad in full armor just like their own. Gaegan and his comrades couldn't help but gape at the sight. Jarek revealed himself in full beskar'gam. Though scarred and dirty the Outcast was still very much alive. Even his crew-mates seemed astonished at his appearance.

Gaegan couldn't comprehend what he was seeing. That rocket had struck him dead center! He'd seen it all; the impact, the all-consuming explosion, and body crashing into the ruins. How had the aruetii survived!?

"Gaegan!" Jarek roared again. The young man would've responded but was shocked into silence just like everyone else. The words had barely left the Dar'Manda's mouth when he charged headlong towards the three Mandalorians. He moved with astounding speed clearing a low wall in a single bound. The moment Jarek landed his hands came up gripping a long barreled hunting rifle. Alarmed Gaegan had enough time to recognize it as a magazine fed slug thrower before Jarek squeezed the trigger.

"I'm going to kill you!" The Dar'Manda's oath was punctuated by the bark of the report. Fire spat from either side of the muzzle break. Almost instantly the round found its mark with a resounding 'crack'. The area between Daxo's left chest and abdominal plate plates caved in as if he'd been gut-punched.

Beskar plating was tough. Able to deflect blaster bolts and even lightsabers according to legend. However, the vests they were mounted on were not made of beskar, but rather a lighter bit of protection called armor-weave. It was designed to deflect blades, absorb concussive impacts, and shed fire. It was tough but not impenetrable. Jarek knew this.

The hole was barely the size of a small coin, but the exit wound the size of a malurun fruit. The high-velocity ammunition pierced the torso. Its velocity dropping only when it hit the armor weave on it way out. It still had enough force that it popped one of the back plates clean off the vest. Daxo dropped like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Gaegan knew that his comrade was dead before he'd even hit the ground.

Thalen screamed in outrage and ran at Jarek. Her savagery was commendable, but her actions, unfortunately, blocked Gaegan's shot. Jarek seemingly unperturbed by the female warrior's actions. In the smooth economic motion of a machine, the Outcast racked another round as he took aim. Thalen had barely made it two steps before the trigger was squeezed again. The area just above her collar-plate exploded in a spray of blood and pulped flesh. The force of the impacted spun her half-way around. Gaegan had the briefest glimpse of the spiderweb of fluids decorating Thalen's torso and buy'ce before she collapsed to the dirt. Oddly when she fell Thalen landed next to Daxo's with one arm, the one still clutching her blaster dropped across his bloody torso.

Now there was nothing separating Jarek and Gaegan. In the span of a single breath, the Outcast had loaded another round and adjusted his aim before the Watchmen could level his blaster. The sight of the woman's bodily fluids had staggered Gaegan more then he'd ever admit. That hesitation would cost him his life.

He wasn't sure how the chakaar had lived, and at that moment he truly didn't care. So close! Gaegan had been so close to getting his revenge. He had almost proved to all that he was the superior hunter. But Myler's protege stole that away from him too if only by surviving. Anger mixed with the indignity of it all filled him.

So kriffing close!

Gaegan squared his shoulders and even though the visor hid his expression he stared defiantly at his rival. He refused to be cowed by the likes of Jarek Orion; a traitor to Death Watch. An Outcast was given the honor of training with real Mandalorians only to spit in their faces.

In one last act of defiance, Gaegan clenched his fists and spat out, "Dar'Manda!" He put all his vehemence and anger into the word to let Jarek know exactly what he thought of him. What the entire Watch and hopefully all of Clan Orion thought of him. He may wear the trapping of a Mandalorian, but he would never truly be one.

Jarek didn't even flinch at the word. In fact, he didn't react at all. His visor was just as placid as his own. Finally, Jarek replied in a tone that was as cold as ice, "Hut'uun," and he squeezed the trigger.