The Mandalorian Wars8

CHAPTER 8

Carth felt uneasy as he landed the transport on Dantoine. He had never been on the "Jedi world" before and in the face of all of the trouble brewing between the Jedi, he half expected to face a fire-fight as he landed. It was a silly thought; these were Jedi. They might have had a difference of opinion, but they were still a peaceful people.

He shut down the engines and eyed the Jedi seated beside him in the small transport. The tall man was still in his chair, staring at the small patch of land that could be seen from the window. He seemed to carry the weight of the whole world on his broad shoulders and for a moment, Carth wondered if he should say anything. Perhaps he should leave the Jedi to his thoughts.

Strangely enough, it was the Jedi that spoke. "Do you have a family, Lt. Onasi?" the Jedi spoke.

"Yes, Master Jedi."

"Malak. My name is Malak."

"I know, but I thought, considering all that you've done a more formal title-"

"The Jedi don't concern themselves with trivial titles. Calling me by my name is fine. You were saying?"

"I do have a family. I have a wife and a son."

"How did they take your going to war?"

"To be honest, not well. My wife has never liked my military career. It's always been the one thing that separated us. As for my son, he's young. I doesn't fully think he understands the situation."

"In a few minutes, I will go before the only family I've ever known and defend my decision to follow Revan to war. I'm not sure where to begin."

"Do you really think they're still angry about this? Look at all of the good you've done since you entered the war."

"I suppose I'll find out in a few minutes, Lt.," Malak replied, standing and walking out of the transport to the Jedi Enclave.

It's amazing how the feel of home never really changes. Everything, from the lighting of the hallways to the smells was familiar. But as much as he wanted to sit and take in the feel of the place, this was no ordinary reunion. He had come with one goal in mind and couldn't allow himself to be distracted by anyone, not even himself.

He walked through the hallways silently, receiving glaring looks from younger students. Some looked at him with confusion. Some looked with anger, what he knew was a very dangerous emotion. He couldn't blame them. Had their positions been reversed, he would have felt the same.

As he neared the doors to the Council chamber, he was met by a young woman who leaned against the large doors. She seemed to have been waiting for him and stood to attention when he walked up to meet her. He thought he recognized her as one of his peers - she may have even been there the night they left the Order - but she looked different somehow - older. He bowed respectfully. "Hello, Atris.

"Hello, Malak," she responded without bowing. "I'd rather skip the pleasantries."

"Very well," Malak responded as he walked to the door. Atris was unmovable, however. She would not be shaken.

"You are forbidden to enter the Council chambers."

"What?"

"I have my orders, Malak. You will not taint the Council or the Order with your war-mongering. The Council will not assist you in this war."

"I'm not here to beg for help. I'm here to bring a warning. Revan has reason to believe the Mandalorians are going to attack the Jedi schools in response to her challenge."

"So it is true. Revan did challenge the Mandalorians to meet her at Malachor."

"Yes, and the council must be informed for all your sakes."

"I have my orders. No Jedi Rebels can meet with the Council until they face a trial."

"Trial!"

"You disobeyed the Council."

"To save the Republic!"

"You caused the deaths of countless Republic citizens!"

"They died fighting the Mandalorians - what you wouldn't help us do!"

"And what about your faithful followers? What about the valiant Jedi who listened to your pleas and Revan's call to war? How many of them will lie dead before all of this is over? How many of them are already dead?"

Malak was furious by now. He stood in front of Atris, feeling the air static between them. After everything he had been through, she was throwing the deaths of other Jedi in his face! He could feel hate replacing the anger as his war-ravaged eyes faced hers. Had he remained there any longer, he would have lost control. But he was smarter than that. "Very well, Atris. But let's not hope that one of those Jedi lives isn't yours." The comment shocked him. He didn't know if it was a threat or a reminder of the risk she was taking by not allowing him to deliver his message. In any event, he couldn't take it back now. All he could do was make sure that his slip of the tongue was not be in vain.

"Do you understand your orders?"

"Yes, Revan. How much time will you need?"

"Expect a 10 minute count. Any longer and the Mandalorians could defuse the 4 generators or escape."

"Does anyone else know what this does?"

"No one other than you, I and the engineer."

"What about you?"

"No matter what happens, get BaoDur to safety. Mandalorians don't value those who help their enemies." Revan replaced her mask and stared off in the distance. "Good luck, Raye."

"To all of us."

Revan was following a trail that she couldn't see. Quickly and nimbly she walked, depending on the Force to guide her. She ended up in front of a large building, full of the antique beauty that only something ancient could possess. She continued walking, feeling the power the very walls possessed. There was dark energy here. The Jedi had rumors of places such as this, remainders of the ancient Sith Empire – those who used and twisted the Force for their own selfish gain. She had to be careful. She would lose herself here if she wasn't.

As if it were left her, she found an open door to lift. She entered and it automatically moved up a few floors – how many, she couldn't be sure. Apparently, someone was waiting for her. She followed the feeling to its source – a large circular room with another lift elevator at the back end of it. She walked calmly to the center of the room, watching as shadowy shapes began to form into the shapes of soldiers in front of her eyes. Had she not still worn her mask, the Mandalorians who had come to ambush her would have seen her smile.

"Don't move, Jedi," one soldier demanded, placing a very large rifle in her face. "You're outnumbered. It is time you met your end." Revan looked around her at the massive amount of soldiers and war droids that were waiting to end her life. She then looked back at the soldier and started to chuckle.

"Clever, little Mandalorians," Revan spouted deeply through her mask. "You have set a trap to capture me and thereby end the war. You would destroy me before your leader even had the chance to answer my call. Your Clans would have an honorable victory under their belts and you would claim rule over the entire Republic. Diabolically clever. There's just one thing. I'm not the one who's outnumbered.'

At that very moment, Revan's personal guard of Jedi warriors uncloaked themselves to the Mandalorians, and began, along with their leader, slicing through the Mandalorian horde. Lightsabers cut blasters. Blasters knocked away lightsabers. Poison grenades were thrown only to be Force pushed back to their owners. And when all weapons were stalemated, fist and foot served the warrior. These Jedi were trained for just such a mission and simply out powered the Mandalorians. But their victory was different. It was as if Revan's hand guided them. They almost seemed to act in unison with her – as she fought more aggressively, they fought more aggressively. They were changing just as she was.

Revan found herself Force choking a remaining soldier and it scared her. There was no anger in her actions; it had been a natural impulse. In partial disgust and partial horror of her own capabilities, she through the body of the soldier to the side and ordered her Jedi to join the fight outside of the great edifice. If the Mandalorians had set a trap for her, certainly they were there to fight the Republic.

Once the 2nd lift stopped, Revan found herself in a new room containing several large computer systems in a large man sitting in one of the chairs. He was dressed from head to toe in armor and several weapons were near him. He chuckled just as she had earlier. "So, we finally meet, Revan. I trust you enjoyed your welcoming party."

"I think they enjoyed mine even better."

"I hear you wanted to challenge me."

"I heard you wanted a challenge."

"Very well. But Mandalorian rules will dominate."

"And that would be?"

"Warrior to warrior. Win by any means necessary."

Revan tapped a few buttons on her arm console. "Execute," she whispered into the device, then drew her lightsaber and dropped into a fighting stance. "Very well. Let us begin."

"Malak, we have reports from the surface of Malachor. Mandalorians have engaged our troops. Should we go and assist?"

"No. Revan's orders were clear. We wait here for Mandalorian reinforcements." Malak stood overlooking the officers as he spoke.

"Sir, there's a ship approaching." Malak watched the ship approach from the distance. "What type of Mandalorian raider is it?"

"It's not Mandalorian. It's – that's impossible."

"What is it?"

"It's a Jedi ship! The Jedi are joining the fight."

Revan was agile and commanded her saber with precision and speed, but Mandalore was raw power. He had long since dropped his rifle and was fighting with a Mandalorian with a Mandalorian saber. They both bore the scars of their battle. Revan's robes were battle-worn – burned in places and cut in others, but Mandalore's armor hadn't escaped her blade as well. The only difference was for every bit of damage Revan served him, his healing stimulants restored. After a while, Revan was starting to tire and Mandalore was stronger than ever. When would this be over?

"The mighty Jedi's powers are starting to wear thin. Could it be he has met his match." Mandalore swung his saber at a tired Revan who could only lift her lightsaber to deflect the blow. With all her might, she Force pushed him away a short distance from her, then stood. "Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you."

Mandalore continued to swing his blade aggressively to a now defensive Revan. "Brave to the last, but it is fool-hardy to claim victory in the face of defeat. You cannot win. Yield and I will honor you with a death that will burn in the sky for centuries."

"As charming as that offer is, I must refuse."

"I'm afraid I must insist. Malachor will be your grave."

"Correction, it will be both our graves in exactly 5 seconds."

Mandalore lifted from the weary Revan and looked around for assassins. "What?"

As soon as the word left his lips, a massive explosion ripped through, sending shockwaves of earthquakes that knocked the Jedi off his feet. The rumbling explosions seemed to last forever, until every single noise was deafening. Mandalore struggled to try to reach his men through his communications system, while the Jedi lay screaming and writhing in pain on the floor, the weight of so many deaths suffocating him. Screams echoed with the rumbling as every living thing on the planet met its end. And finally, all was silent.

"What sorcery is this?" Mandalore roared in a drunken rage.

"That . . . was the sound . . . of the end . . . of this war," Revan breathed. She felt suffocated by her mask and began ripping it off.

"You have killed us all."

"That was certainly my intention," Revan stood and then fell again weakly. He mask was off now and Mandalore could now see the face of his opponent.

"You are Revan? Hmph. The Jedi are full of surprises. The Sith were right. You are formidable warriors. But now, I must end your reign." He gripped Revan by the throat and pushed he into a nearby wall, holding a small blaster to her head. "The time of the Jedi is over. It is now the time for the Mandalorians."

He gripped the trigger and was just about the end Revan's life, when he felt the heat of a lightsaber cut it into pieces. He took a step back and looked down just in time to see his to his chest and saw her blade slide into it. He felt her pull out the blade and took at step back, still staring at his bloodless wound. He then looked up at a battered, bruised, and female Revan. "It appears the best warrior did win."

"Call your troops to disband,"

"You've already killed many of my best warriors when you destroyed this planet." Mandalore grimaced as he pulled off his helmet. "This . . . is yours now. Send order 839 over all Mandalorian communications. They will disband and scatter. Guard . . . guard my helmet carefully. You are Mandalore now."