The reports coming in on the uprisings in Senex-Juvex were so jumbled and self-contradictory as to be almost useless. One said that the revolt on Mussubir had succeeded; another that it had been put down bloodily. A movement on Malador seemed to have been quashed before it became too extreme. There was talk, second-hand and unconfirmed, of mass riots on Karfeddion itself. Of the initial movement on Varadan, no one could say.

The one thing every source could agree on was that a successful rising had occurred on the surface of the agri-world of Fengrine, and that in response, frigates from House Vandron were currently pummeling those urban centers from orbit. The death toll was unknown; certainly in the thousands, and set to rise into millions if no one intervened.

In those circumstances, the Alliance had no choice but to act. Chief of State Sevash didn't throw caution away, even with the situation as dire as it was. He ordered Admiral Premvold to take three task forces from the Third Fleet from Eriadu to the border of Senex-Juvex. One was to hold at the border planet Yetoom, another as Asmeru. The third task force, with Admiral Premvold's flagship at the lead, was to enter the Senex Sector and pacify the Fengrine system.

The Third acted as quickly as it could but reaching Fengrine itself still took time. The agro-world was located along the Senex Trace, a narrow lane of hyperspace-navigable space that sliced through the giant collection of nebulae and gases called Thull's Shroud. To get there, Task Force Starbright had to cross the border at Asmeru, jump to the House Taneel throneworld of Neelanon, then dive into the Trace. As she gathered with Chief of State Sevash and a dozen senior military officials and senators in the old Imperial Palace, Allana had listened with held breath to Admiral Premvold's status updates. She'd feared that House Taneel might try to stop the Alliance force before it could plunge further into the Senex Sector, but the home fleet graciously stayed back and let it continue on its way.

That was only the start, of course. Allana wished a second task force had been approved for this mission, perhaps one that would come up the Trace from the other side so they could catch Fengrine in a pincer. Chief of State Sevash seemed to believe one would be enough. From a military standpoint, Task Force Starbright had twice the firepower as the entire House Vandron fleet, but there was no telling how hard the Vandron ships would fight. Thanks to the recording leaked by Savyar's people, everyone knew just how determined Kalor Vandron was to hold on to what he had. How much that murderous tenacity would trickle down to his soldiers was anyone's guess.

When Premvold dropped out of hyperspace over Fengrine, the tactical readout from his flagship was transmitted back to Coruscant so senior officials there could see what was happening in almost real-time. The Alliance fleet consisted of fifteen capital ships all told, ranging from small pickets to Premvold's MC110 Mon Calamari star defender. The three-kilometer behemoth was probably capable of taking on House Vandron's ten frigates and light cruisers by itself, but Task Force Starbright spread around the planet to pin the Vandron fleet in low orbit.

Premvold's broadcast announcement was transmitted back to Coruscant as well. The gravelly Mon Cal voice said, "All ships in the Fengrine System, this is Admiral Premvold of the Galactic Alliance Third Fleet. All hostile actions are to be ceased at once. All House Vandron ships are to cease firing on the planet. Once their flagship and commanding officer surrenders all other ships will be allowed to withdraw. All hostile action on the planet itself will also cease. The current authority on Fengrine will prepare itself for the arrival of Alliance peacekeepers."

Once the transmission was done a heavy silence fell over the meeting room and Fengrine itself. The Vandron ships were holding position, neither firing nor moving. Allana knew that demanding the surrender of their commander was a risky move, but they'd all agreed it had to be done. Simply allowing them to withdraw wouldn't bring any justice to those already killed on Fengrine.

The Vandron ships made no reply before they moved. They simply moved. Some of them turned noses for the edge of Fengrine's gravity well and tried to pass through the nearest Alliance pickets. One vessel, surely their flagship, formed up with more more and attempted to outmanuever the swift Alliance gunships coming to delay them off while Premvold's flagship cut off their escape route.

The officers on Coruscant watched the battle unfold half a galaxy away with a weird, accepting silence. None of them had expected this to go easily. The only thing they could do was watch, wait, and hope things went in their favor.

Things began easily enough. Of the smaller Vandron ships trying to flee, only two of them made the ump to hyperspace. Two small gunships were crippled by flights of D-wing fighter/bombers. A larger frigate was caught in an ion cannon barrage from an old Nebula-class destroyer and another's engines were crippled by a MC45 Mon Cal picket. House Vandron's fighter wing was light, and the Alliance's nimble Tri-wing interceptors easily cut through it to ribbons.

The main wedge of the Vandron fleet made a stubborn stand. Admiral Premvold turned his flagship's broadsides to pummel it while his smaller ships moved to trap it on all sides. The fighting grew fierce, and the tense, patient silence in the command room finally broke when one Vandron corvette, already crippled by a D-wing bomber run, veered into an Alliance Nebulon-D frigate and destroyed both. Allana gasped; Admiral Antilles across the table drew in breath.

"We were bound to get blooded," warned the First Fleet's Admiral Cro Xi. "There will be more of that before the fighting's over."

He was right, of course. The little admiral was a Gossam, and though his race was best known for shrewd business-dealings, Cro Xi had proven that tenacity could easily be transferred to the military sphere. Allana glanced at Chief of State Sevash. The long-necked Quermian kept his thoughts from his face but Allana had known him a long time and could feel him in the Force. She knew he was wondering how many more would die, and whether the Long Peace would finally be broken on his watch.

That was the only capital ship they lost. In the next twenty minutes another Vandron corvette was destroyed outright by Premvold's cannons. When the Vandron flagship's shields collapsed it had no place to run.

All shooting stopped without warning. Everyone in the command room waited, breathless, until Admiral Premvold said, "The Vandron fleet has surrendered. The battle is over."

Allana resisted the urge to do some very un-military clapping. Sevash said, "Thank you for your fine work, Admiral. Prepare to take that ship into custody and launch landing craft."

"Our peacekeepers are standing by, sir."

"Admiral Premvold," Antilles said, "Have you had any communications with the ground yet?"

"I'm afraid not. We attempted to hail them before the battle joined but got no response. We'll try again immediately."

"Make sure they know our peacekeepers are coming to help," Sevash said. "We don't want people shooting each other for no reason."

"I very much agree, sir. I was going to- Wait, what's that?"

The tactical holo updated two seconds later, revealing a wave of yellow markers falling in toward Fengrine. Sevash asked, "Admiral, is it more Vandron ships?"

"I don't think so, sir. We're struggling to get a read on them."

"Did those ships just come out of the Shroud?" asked Cro Xi.

"They did. They must have been waiting at the edge, watching, and microjumped in."

"Can you get a reading, Admiral?" pressed Antilles. "They look like they're coming in fast."

"We've got no hails. We're getting readings now. Some of them are civilian hauler. The rest- Ah." Something between a cough and rattle sounded deep in the Mon Cal's throat. "Mandalorians," he said.

-{}-

Despite being the most large-scale job the Mandalorians had taken on in decades, they'd so far done little of that Mandos traditionally did. Acting as a revolutionary vanguard was not a usual Mando job. Neither was guarding bodies. This, though, was refreshingly straightforward. Three heavy cargo haulers packed with military equipment and vital supplies needed to be delivered to the about-to-be-proclaimed Free World of Fengrine. Any ship that tried to stop them- Alliance, House Vandron, or anyone else- was automatically a hostile target marked for destruction.

It was, basically, run-and-gun.

Tamar Skirata was unspeakably glad to be doing what she did best. After the disaster at Yag'Dhul she was lucky Gevern Auchs hadn't tied her to the bow of his frigate and keel-hauled her through hyperspace. As it was, she was nestled into the bubble-cockpit of her Beskad fighter at the crest of the charging wave. Normally it was the most dangerous place to be during a fight, but the Alliance ships had clearly been caught by surprise with their glowing afts turned to the approaching fleet. In the crucial minute when they should have turned around and brought their broadsides to bear they dithered, probably unable to get clear readings through the jamming being pumped out of the lead transport. The jamming was mucking the Mandalorians' sensors just as much, but the calculated ploy had been worth it. That minute of hesitation sealed the fate of the Alliance fleet.

Tamar's fighter squadron whipped past an Alliance gunship without even bothering to slow down. A group of Tri-wing interceptors- nimble dart-shaped fighters with three stout s-foils spoking out of aft engine nacelle- was the first to try and stop them. Tamar saw her first target racing right toward her and popped off a pair of proton torpoedoes, then veered away. She saw on her scanners as the torps hit their target, punching through shields and vaporizing the nimble little ship.

There was more of that to come. Dorn had his own squadron and was currently tangling with another swam of Tri-wings. Tamar swung her cockpit away from Fengrine to face the Alliance ships. She watched as the center wedge of three Crusader II-class corvettes and two Teroch-class attack frigates punched forward. The Alliance's mighty Mon Cal flagship and the Nebula-class destroyer closest to it broke formation, opening a lane for the Mandalorian ships rather than risk a collision. The gap was still a choke point waiting to be throttled by waves of turbolaser and missile fire, but instead of charging in the Mandalorians' wedge split in half. Two corvettes and a frigate swung over the nose of the flagship, slowing down to pound it as hard as possible. The other two ships attacked the star destroy with a vengeance, punching through the older ship's shields and tearing ruptures through the nose of its hull.

"Tamar!" her cousin's voice crackled on her headset. "Don't just shabla sit there! Two squads of D-wings heading rimward."

She didn't have to check her scanners; she could spot the chain of red thrust-flares with her eyes. "I see it. Cresh Squad, on me. Stop those bombers before they get to our vode."

D-wings were the Alliance's premier attack ship, a Mon Cal design made to succeed the venerable B-wing. They were in attack formation now, two dozen flying-wing fighters standing vertically with ventral s-foils extended. They could punch serious holes in the Mando frigates, but right now Dorn's squad was tangling up their fighter screens. Tamar and her pilots dove down on the bombers and pummeled their shields with chain-linked laserfire. Some D-wings move to evade but a surprising number kept flying straight at the frigate pounded the Alliance command vessel. Compared to the mighty Mon Cal cruiser, Gevern Auch's flagship looked like a flitgnat, but it was a tough and angry flitgnat, which was all they needed now.

Tamar led her fighters on a second run. This time they forced the D-wings to break their attack before most of them could let their bombs fly. That was when more Tri-wings arrived, and as Tamar was forced to tangle with them the D-wings began to wheel around and regroup for another pass.

She'd just blown one Tri-wing to pieces when a brighter light flared just at the edge of her vision. She swung her fighter around to see a chain of explosions tear through the Nebula-class destroyer. The Mando corvette and frigate kept pounding it, ripping open its bow like a splitting seam, spilling flame and wreckage out into space.

Surging up from behind the dying star destroyer were the three transports, each one escorted by a pair of Crusader corvettes and dozen more Beskad fighters.

"Oya Manda!" Gevern Auch's voice sounded on her headset, his first broadcast since the battle started. "Get those ships to the ground, Mando'ade! And tear up any Vandron ship while you can!"

Tamar could imagine a thousand other Mandalorians shouting war cries inside their helmets, but now she just swung her Beskad back to face the planet. The Vandron ships were the last line standing between those transports and Fengrine and they wouldn't be standing much longer.

"All pilots, you heard the Mand'alor," she told her people. "Let's burn those Vandron shabuire down."

-{}-

The crew in the Alliance command room had watched the first stage of the battle in a tense but expectant silence. They watched in silence still, but now it was all grim horror. Admiral Premvold's flagship had taken heavy damage in the Mandalorian ambush, enough to knock out direct comm communication from the bridge. Tactical information was still transmitting, so Allana and all the senators and admirals could watch in helpless captivity as the Mandalorians and their three heavy transports cut through the Alliance line and fell toward the planet. The House Vandron ships, most of them badly damaged and trapped in lower orbit by the Alliance line, had no place to run.

The Mandalorians fell on them with the savagery they were famous for. Most Vandron ships were in no position to defend themselves. The flagship flared and died without even firing a shot in its defense. Some of the smaller pickets tried to climb out of the planet's gravity well but were cut apart by swarming fighters. By the time the transports began falling into Fengrine's atmosphere, escorted by Crusader corvettes the whole way down, every single Vandron ship had been destroyed. Allana couldn't guess how many lives had been snuffed out.

Some Alliance ships tried to pursue the transports into the atmosphere but were chased away. Soon the rest of the Mandalorian vessels followed suite. Only thirty minutes after they'd arrived, Fengrine's orbit was again empty of Mandalorians. The destruction in their wake was the sole proof of their passage, and it was more than enough.

Still, no one in the command chamber could think of anything to say until a tech reported, "Sirs, Admiral Premvold just sent us a message. Text-only." A pause. "It must be all they can get working now."

"Read it." Sevash's words were a sigh.

The tech read, "This message is from the Free World of Fengrine. We thank the Mandalorian Protectors for their support in the liberation of our world. We pledge to stand with Savyar and all other liberation fighters in Senex-Juvex." She swallowed. "Any ship not aligned with the struggle to enter Fengrine orbit will be fired upon with the intent to kill. This policy will hold until further notice."

Grim silence again, until Sevash said, "Give Premvold a reply on the same channel. Tell him he has six hours to recover equipment and survivors from the damaged ships. Then he's to fall back to Asmeru."

"It will take them longer than that to set up proper defenses," Cro Xi said. "If we launch reinforcements now, before they dig in-"

"I'll not declare war on both sides, Admiral," Sevash said firmly. "Send the signal, officer. They've won today. And we've lost."

-{}-

Kalor Vandron had watched the debacle of Fengrine in its entirely from his estate on Karfeddion. Again and again he'd told the commander of the planet's security forces to use a stronger hand. He'd wavered, trapped by misplaced moral anxiety perhaps, until his people were driven off-planet by the rebels. Once stuck in orbit he'd finally done as ordered and started bombarding the cities, and when the time had come to fight the Alliance he'd made a decent show of it. And then the blasted Mandalorians had swept in out of the Shroud and slaughtered every man and woman left under his command. Two hundred thousand loyal security officers, if memory served, most of them no threat at all in their crippled ships. The one consolation of it all was that Savyar's people were starting to show their true colors at last.

That wasn't enough. The riots on Karfeddion had been growing by the day. Security had cracked down hard but the ports had merely turned to guerrilla warzones. Even now, in his personal suite on the estate's highest spire, he could hear their clamor. Once he was sure the slaughter at Fengrine was over he pushed his body off the sofa and shuffled to the window. Every step was a struggle; he'd never felt so old. When he reached the glass he pushed it aside and stepped onto the balcony. Cool breeze rushed his face; it was getting to be autumn now and sky was overcast. Far below, a flood of beings surged against the high white walls of his estate. The same walls, he recalled, where he'd almost been killed less than two months ago. It seemed so much longer.

The walls would hold. The Houses would hold against anarchy. He believed that. The Houses were a rampart against alien rabble and always had been since Thull Vandron a thousand years ago. He turned his back on the crowd and went to the comm station. He punched in Seren Anturi's code and waited, waited until it seemed the call wouldn't go through. Then, finally, the old woman's face flickered to holographic life in front of his.

"Kalor. I wasn't expecting to hear from you. Are you still holding out?"

"Have you heard about Fengrine?" There was no point in small talk.

"I just got word."

"Mandalorians," he sneered. "Fitting in a way. Savages calling on savages."

"I wonder how much Savyar paid for their services."

"I'm sure they weren't cheap. I'm more interested in where she got the credits."

"Some underhanded way, I'm sure. Are you still on Karfeddion?"

"Of course. Where are you?"

After a second's hesitation she said, "I left Anturus four hours ago."

So she was leaving then. Fleeing her family's homeworld, probably after stuffing her yacht with as many priceless objects as it could hold and still push off. She'd always been pragmatic like that. He was sure the heads of other Houses were doing the same.

"You're too pessimistic, Seren. The Houses wont' fall to savages. Not while I'm alive."

The old woman considered him carefully before she nodded. "I believe you're right. Will you stay on Karfeddion?"

"The Vandrons have been here for a thousand years. I'd rather make my stand here than anywhere else. Mark my words, the Alliance will realize what a mistake they made by giving Savyar tacit report. I say after Fengrine they're already learning."

"Yes, though I can't say how much good it will do you in the end. Are you sure you're making your choice wisely?"

"My choice made me before I was born," he said.

Anturi smiled ruefully. "Good luck, Kalor. You'll need it."

He nodded once and held her eyes until the holo winked out. He felt himself wilt as he faced the empty wall. He'd known Anturi all his life; they'd grown up together, taken over their houses together, schemed to preserve Senex-Juvex together. He didn't expect to see her again. Yes, after all these decades he was finally feeling old.

Then he heard a familiar voice over his shoulder, half-whisper and half-rasp, asking, "Are you feeling troubled, Lord?"

Vandron spun around, knowing what he'd see. Kheykid was less than a meter behind him, hidden in his black cloak except for the soft yellow glow of this reptilian eyes and the faint gleam of his fangs.

He took one deep breath, then another. He wanted to ask how Kheykid had gotten into his quarters, but what was the point? There was no reason to ask about Savyar either.

With almost a century of accumulated dignity he lifted his head, looked the monster in the eye, and asked, "Did she hire you out from under me? Or were you Savyar's agent from the start?"

Kheykid didn't step closer, didn't flinch, didn't blink. His jaws hinged open and he hissed one word: "No."

"No what? It has to be one or the other, so which? At least tell me."

Without one long stride Kheykid was in front of him. Vandron flinched a tiny flinch but the beast didn't raise a claw. Hot, foul-smelling breath puffed in his face. Funny. He'd thought he'd be more afraid than this. His old hands weren't even trembling. Still, he wanted to know.

"What are you?" he asked.

"Does it matter now?" hissed Kheykid.

Vandron stared the monster in those awful animal eyes, and he had to admit to truth. "No. I suppose it doesn't. Not anymore."

-{}-

Fibercord whipped out of his left sleeve and into his right. He brought his arms up and down, then twisted, wrapping the cord tight around Vandron's neck. The old man's face went red; his wiry neck muscles strained and the veins on his face bulged tight against his skin. Darth Kheykid held him like that, right on the verge of dying, hoping to savor confusion and dread from the fool's last moments.

That was wanted, but he what he found was a strange calm; an acceptance.

Another twist and it was over. The body sagged to one side but Kheykid kept the cord tight around its neck. He carried to corpse over to the window and used the Force to push the glass aside. Once he was on the balcony the rest was easy.

Getting back to his ship was easy too; he'd memorized every secret passage on the Estate a long time ago and security team was busy elsewhere. When he reached Intruder he patched a call into Darth Xoran, who answered promptly.

"I am finished with Karfeddion," he said simply.

"Excellent," Xoran smiled. "I'm sure you're happy to have that business complete."

Kheykid didn't want to admit he felt strangely hollow. "Are you on Varadan now?"

"That's correct. The mining facility is secure but the machinery was damaged in the rising. I'll stay here and overseen the repairs for a few days more."

"What about the Alliance? They won't sit still after Fengrine."

"I know, but this is important. Go the worldship and stay with Vilath Dal until the next battle."

"Do you think they'll move on Fengrine again?"

"I know we just delivered an affront they can't ignore. Fengrine or elsewhere, the worldship will be needed soon."

"Very well. I'll go there at once." He killed the connection, then began to fire the engines. He'd be glad to get away from here.

When Intruder escaped Karfeddion it was a rocket flaring fast upward, then a black wing disappearing into a low clouds. Of the thousands gathered outside the Vandron estate, only a handful noticed and none cared. By now their eyes had all turned upward, squinting, to the highest spire. From so far away they could just make out the body of their nemesis dangling by the neck from his balcony, swinging in the breeze under a leaden sky.