SLURP! SLURP! SLURP!
It was an awkward ride to Condoria, one of Mandalore's moons that was, ironically enough, a lot more hospitable than the actual planet itself. Home of Pre Vizsla, the governor of the moon and also secretly the current head of Death Watch, the minute he learned that he was top dog, he was on his way to meet the Darksaber user.
It was a bit of a boring ride, so the Sith decided to have a little fun with his women.
"M-Must you do that now?" Sabine stuttered. She wasn't sure who she was asking, the blond man that stole her virginity and soiled their pride and honor, or Rahab, who was currently giving the said blond head as she buried his large cock between her large, brown breasts.
"Why? Do you want to be next?" Sabine let out a small "eep" as Darth Talon slid behind her, her hands slithering underneath her armor and pants.
"N-No!" Sabine blushed, squirming in place as the red-skinned woman began fondling her soft spots.
"No need to be shy, we're all his women~" she purred into her ear, before licking it. "We can be honest with each other."
"Mm! Cumming!"
Darth Kyuubi's fingers tightened around the brunette woman's hair before her face was buried deep into his crotch. She gurgled and whined as her mouth was being filled with his semen.
"F-Fuck, dude," Rahab gasped, coughing and choking on his semen. "You're pretty energetic."
Talon looked like she wanted to reprimand her for her disrespectful tone, but the Sith just laughed.
"You're rather insatiable yourself, Rahab-chan."
The amazonian had no idea what "-chan" meant, but she blushed nonetheless.
"Well, there weren't many worthy men, and I was still training to try to overthrow Vizsla one day…"
"Well, I'll be sure to satisfy your needs from now on," he smirked, slapping his wet cock against her cheek, making her pout.
Just as she looked like she was going to stand up and ride her master again, a transmission beeped into the cockpit.
"[Statement]: We have arrived at Concordia, young, virile master."
"Right," the Sith sighed as he stood up. "Answer the transmission, please."
The HK pushed a button, and a voice crackled into their radio.
"[This is Pre Vizsla of Concordia. Who are you and please state your purpose.]"
"I'm here to speak to the leader of Death Watch. You see, I'm here to challenge him into a duel. Can you get me to him?"
The line went silent for a moment, most likely due to how blunt he was.
"...Look, before you try to bullshit your way out of this, I fought the Nite Owls and kicked their asses, replacing Ursa as the leader of the Wren clan in the process. I'm coming for you now for a fair, one on one fight. And before you think about blasting me out of the sky, just know that I have a small army of Mandos who can vouch for me, including some of their elites as well. I think you can figure out the rest."
Before Vizsla could say another word, the Sith hung up.
"...Do you want us to get naked, or…?" Rahab asked slowly.
"As fun as that would be, no, please put your armor back on."
"Phooey."
"What?"
"What?"
Darth Kyuubi and his army landed in Concordia without incident. Exiting their spaceships, it quickly became clear to the rest of Death Watch that he was not fibbing, as indicated by how he was in front of the line followed by his new army behind him.
Waiting for him was a man with similar blue armor, bearing the sigil of Death Watch onto his shoulder-cape.
"So, it looks like you weren't all talk." The Mandalorian removed his helmet to reveal a light skinned man with silver eyes. His head looked recently shaven, most likely as preparation for their battle.
"You'll find that I have a lot more than words in my arsenal," the masked Sith chuckled, before he removed his helmet too.
"I'm going to go out on a limb and assume you're not of Mandalorian origin?" the man sneered.
"No, I'm not," the blond man admitted. "However, times have changed, and historically speaking, you Mandalorians are willing to change with the times if needed or desired. In this hypothetical instance, would they rather choose a leader that's weaker than the alternative despite the fact that the said alternative can provide so much more than what, say, you can?"
Pre Vizsla scowled at this jab, but he surprisingly didn't refute this.
"If anything, I would say that that sword of yours or even the Mask of Mandalore doesn't cut it anymore," the Sith continued. "I mean, if that sword was all it took to rule all of Mandalore, then you wouldn't be here hiding in this dusty moon while some others decide to rebel against you, right? Even in Mandalore, it looks like there's some level of democracy desired."
The two factions shifted nervously as the two leaders stared each other down.
"...What do you promise if you do win?" Pre Vizsla finally asked, curiosity momentarily overtaking his pride.
"Well for one, I'd restore Mandalore to its former glory, culturally and on a planetary scale," the Sith declared. "I mean, for the love of the Force, you people destroyed your own planet for power. It's honestly a bit depressing to look at its current state right now, with those life domes being the only way you people could have a chance of surviving in there."
This got some of the surrounding Mandalorians to murmur amongst themselves. While he certainly wasn't the first to dream about Mandalore being rich with forests again, not many actually bothered to openly promise this dream.
"I hope you have more to offer than your little gardening project," Pre Vizsla frowned. "Otherwise, this will be a humiliating match."
"That's just one of the many rewards I have to offer," the Sith continued. "I intend on conquering this galaxy in order to crush the Republic that has lost its way. I intend to create an empire for peace and stability. The catch here, however, is that I would like for you Mandalorians to be able to expand your culture, your technology, and your way of living all across the galaxy. No longer will you remain the shadows to grasp at the small riches the galaxy has left to offer. No, you will get your rightful place as the apex predator of the galaxy, ruling with a fist made of beskar. You and your men and women will become the great enforcers of peace and justice throughout the galaxy. But until then...are you willing to stay hidden in the shadows of the Republic?"
He waved his hand around at the darkening environment as night began to fall.
"...You have an ambitious dream, Sith Lord," Pre Vizsla finally said as he put his helmet back on. "However, goals are just words until they're achieved. So…"
He reached for his back, and withdrew a lightsaber hilt. Igniting the laser sword, a flat, black blade erected from the handle.
"Enough talk...let's fight."
"Agreed."
The Sith Lord ignited his saber, and the two let out a roar as they charged at one another.
CRASH! HISS! CRASH!
Sparks of energy crackled as the two blades met one another. With another yell, Pre Vizsla leapt back as he threw down a handle of explosives.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Just before impact, the Sith leapt back to avoid the explosion, which kicked up a cloud of dust and smoke.
POW! POW! POW! POW! POW!
Darth Kyuubi had no time to rest as the Mandalorian fired a barrage of plasma bolts at him, forcing him to either dodge, sidestep, or block some of them.
"YARGH!"
Pre Vizsla leapt out of the smoke, the Darksaber in his hand as he tried to cut the man down with his blade. But his mighty sword was blocked with his opponent's saber with a casual sidestep and a parry.
"Why would you yell before the ambush?" Kyuubi tilted his head. "Ruins the whole point of the ambush, wouldn't you agree?"
Gritting his teeth from underneath his helmet, Vizsla suddenly closed the distance as he tried to impale the Sith with his vibroknife-
BAM!
Vizsla let out a cry of pain as he found himself struggling to stay on both legs. Before his other blade could sink into the small gaps in his opponent's armor, a rather painful side kick was planted into his thigh - one of the least guarded areas of his body.
"Tell me, how long have you Mandalorians fought against each other?" Darth Kyuubi asked mockingly as he directed another kick to his armored chin. "How much of your legendary metal has been wasted on each other when you could've used it to conquer the galaxy. How often did you pick the wrong side simply out of pride or tradition or greed?"
"Silence, outsider!" Vizsla roared as he flung a thermal detonator into his face. Before it could go off, a quick stroke of his unique lightsaber severed it into two before it could detonate.
"How long have you people wasted away in the shadows, wilting while the others grew in the light? The Hutts have lost their warrior ways and yet they live on, expanding their filthy empire. You people are still the legendary warriors history writes you to be, and yet even you lot bow your heads towards them for a quick coin. Tell me, oh rightful leader of Mandalore, what are you doing wrong?"
"I said SILEN-URK!" Before the leader of Death Watch could shout any further, the Sith threw a quick jab into his unguarded throat, the knuckles of his bent fingers digging into the soft flesh through his soft, useless neck guard. He fell down gagging, and before he could get up, a powerful soccer kick sent his helmet flying off to another direction. He tried to raise his sword to fend him off, but a quick stroke of his saber sent his severed arm flying off into another direction.
"You really needed to train harder," the Sith sighed. "Not just with the sword, but with fighting too. If you were up against a common grunt you might've done alright, but against even the Republic's softened Jedi? I don't think so."
"..." Pre Vizsla's jaw turned bone-white as he clutched at his missing arm. He scrambled backwards and turned to the others. His face fell a little when he saw their disappointed expressions, the gazes cutting deep even through their helmets.
"Any last words?" the Sith asked as he raised his sword.
"...long live Mandalore," the defeated soldier said as he closed his eyes. And with a quick, deadly stroke, he met his end.
"So, I believe that settles that," the Sith let out a small grin as he summoned his trophy and his helmet. He ignited the dark Excalibur, raising it into the air. "So, who shall follow me to victory?"
The Mandalorians all looked at each other for a moment, before they all knelt. There was a redheaded Mandalorian who looked hesitant about this, before she stood tall and firm.
"Never!" she yelled. "We'll never follow an outsider like you!"
This earned her a few glares from the other Mandalorians as they raised their guns at her and her rebellious group, but he simply raised his hand.
"No need," he smiled from underneath his helmet. "I understand that you have some disagreements and hesitance. Which is fine, since, like you said, I am an outsider. So, how about this: I will help you all regain control of the Mandalorian government within a week. If I fail to do so, you are all free to leave me or overthrow me. But if I succeed, well, what's the harm of seeing this through the end?"
He slowly walked up to the true leader of the Nite Owls, Bo Katan, if he remembered correctly, who just gave him a defiant glare. Deactivating his prize, he raised a hand towards her as he granted them a choice.
After a long, tense minute, she finally shook it.
"Great!" he grinned. "Now, come on! Where are your headquarters? We've got some planning to do."
The Mandalorians didn't know it yet, but this would be one of the most harrowing moments in history.