"It is better to be a warrior in the garden than a gardener in war."


Once upon a time, Mandalore was a planet full of lush life.

Once upon a time, Mandalore housed the legendary Mythosaur.

Once upon a time, the Mythosaurs were hunted to extinction, becoming the symbol of its future warriors.

Once upon a time, Mandalore was a breeding ground for conflict, spawning powerful warriors capable of taking on Jedi and Sith alike.

But that was all in the past. Mandalore's forests were no more, the surface inhabitable from never-ending war. Its people, its warriors, its iron were drastically reduced, with the descendants forced to live in large, artificial biomes that became the dominant source of oxygen.

But now it was just the people. Its warriors were long gone, sent into exile as decreed by the Duchess Satine Kryze after her faction managed to win the Mandalorian Civil War. The New Mandalorians sought complete peace, inspired by the Jedi and her trauma of watching her family die from the constant infighting of the various clans. The said clans were forced into exile, where they were made to die off on their planet's moon Concordia.

Time and time again her pacifism was tested, with various criminals and Death Watch attempting to end her rule or to simply exploit the now weakened Mandalore. Time and time again they were admittedly lucky, with their watered down warriors serving as meager police and the occasional Jedi to help put down any threats it had faced.

Today, however, such luck and illusion had faded - failed them at their most dire hour.

*BOOM!* *BOOM!* *BOOM!*

Screams and shrieks of people erupted as fire rained from the sky, with pirate ships suddenly making their way in.

The initial assault was executed in a more stealthy manner, using shipping crates to smuggle the gangsters through. Once the chaos had begun, however, they abandoned the plan of a silent takeover and simply dropped in and charged.

The Mandalore Police Force, of course, bravely did their best to hold the line, but with their main weapons being mere shields and stun batons, with only a handful of them immediately wielding blasters, there wasn't much they could do but simply defend.

Despite this, however, the Mandalorian Guards proved to be much more of a challenge than expected.

Despite their duchess doing her best to eliminate their past barbaric ways, the Mandalorian Guards were still warriors at heart, refusing to back down even as the odds were against them. Some of them admittedly hid or used various weapons that were now publically frowned upon due to how their ancestors once used them for conquest.

Blaster pistols. Blaster rifles. Even flamethrowers. They used everything they had to hold back the sudden invasion of thugs, buying the citizens enough time to run.

But, as courageous as they were, all that courage eventually failed them as one by one they fell. Several of them perished, many of the dead wielding either shields or stun batons, unsurprisingly. And slowly, even the more well-armed guards began to fall.

"Fall back, fall back!" a second in command of his battalion screamed, his voice hoarse as flames sucked what little moisture the air held. "Don't let them pa- GAH!"

He raised his shield too late and a red bolt struck him in the neck. He gurgled, wheezing for air as he fumbled to remove his helmet, but dropped dead within seconds.

At that moment, every pacifist around them suddenly wished that they had never given up their guns in the name of peace and safety. At that moment, they prayed that someone - anyone - would save them, accepting anyone or anything that would rescue them as their saviors.

*BLAM!* *BLAM!* *BLAM!*

"Look over there!" a civilian cried out.

"Is that-?!"

"Death Watch!"

They watched in fear and awe as the warriors flew into view, their golden bolts raining from above like the bolts of a thousand angels.

The gangsters stood no chance, falling like stones as each bolt hit their mark. There were no theatrics, no chances of mercy, no room for negotiation. Just extermination of the threat to their people.

And how loudly they cheered as their angels in metal descended, making sure to finish off the enemies before escorting the civilians into safety.


Duchess Satine bit her lip.

It has been thirty minutes since the army of gangsters had suddenly arrived at their doorstep. Barging through their doors, they wreaked havoc as they did what they like, looting and killing in their wake.

Their police force fought bravely, but they were swiftly put down, and the people demanded her for a solution.

Except that their only solution was banished to the moon above them. And it was all her fault.

She naively thought that their meager police force and their history would've been enough to ward off any evil that might dare consider disturbing her utopia, but her hopes and dreams crumbled in front of her very eyes.

It then died for good once the armored warriors swooped in from the skies and saved the day. Despite her pleas, her people turned on her, welcoming their saviors (that she knew was responsible for this mess in the first place) with open arms while casting her off her throne. Now she sat on a throne of shame - a cold, metal cot in the Mandalorian Prison Cell.

The only thing she could do now was watch from behind bars the speech from her replacement.


[ "MY PEOPLE, I HUMBLY THANK YOU FOR WELCOMING ME AND YOUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS HOME." ]

Darth Kyuubi, the revealed leader of Death Watch, stood on the metal podium that overshadowed the remnants of Mandalore. His gleaming red armor shined like a blood-red ruby, painted by the blood shed by his efforts and by his enemies.

And speaking of enemies…

Behind him were the bound, beaten, gagged, and humiliated leaders of the gangsters that dared to invade and spit on their home. The once proud and mighty gangsters were put on display, their bruised and broken eyes unable to look at the cameras pointed at them.

[ "Look at them, everyone. Gaze upon their true, pathetic selves - a gang of bullies that chose to use their might to destroy and consume. They wanted everyone to think that they were untouchable - that it's better to simply compromise instead of eliminate. Together, they helped create and maintain a broken system that promises meager rewards while giving less while taking more. Well…TO HELL WITH THAT!" ]

Darth Kyuubi spun around, his heel nearly crushing Jabba's right eye as he delivered a brutal kick.

[ "ENOUGH WITH THEIR BULLSHIT! ENOUGH WITH THEIR TYRANNY! ENOUGH WITH THEIR GREED! AND ENOUGH OF OUR COWARDICE! IF YOU'RE NOT PART OF THE SOLUTION, YOU'RE PART OF THE PROBLEM! AND I THINK YOU ALL ARE TIRED OF BEING ON THEIR SIDE, AM I RIGHT?!" ]

The thunderous boos and cheers said everything he needed to hear.

[ "In the end, might always makes right. That's been the rule of the jungle since day one of creation. And yet, why does that have to mean tyranny and cruelty? In the end, we are evolved beings. We can choose to do better - to be better! To choose when to be peaceful and when to be…aggressive." ]

He ignited his Darksaber, the ethereal hum reverberating throughout the dome.

[ "But…like I said. Might makes right, but that does not make us unreasonable. I may be emperor, but I listen to my people. So…what do my people desire for these crime lords?" ]

"DEATH!"

That single word echoed throughout the glass dome, heard through every corner of the galaxy through the eyes of a holo droid.

"DEATH TO THE CRIMINALS! DEATH TO THE TERRORISTS! DEATH TO THEM ALL!"

The voices of the people heard, Darth Kyuubi lowered his hand, and a rain of blaster fire finally put an end to the criminal underworld that was once feared and respected by the galaxy.

The void of power was silent for a single moment before being filled by cheers, blaster fire, and the roar of ships and jetpacks of Mandalorian heritage.


The throne was stiff, cold, and uncomfortable.

He liked it.

It served as a reminder of the responsibilities that came with it, much like the cold Mandalorian steel of the Darksaber. It carried weight, history, and power that others would undoubtedly challenge him for time and time again, be it through combat or through politics.

It was also rather uncomfortable to have sex on, even though Darth Kyuubi was currently getting the kinkiest cowgirl sex from Bo Katan.

"So, are you going to uphold your end of the bargain?" Darth Kyuubi purred, despite cold metal being pressed against his naked chest.

"F-Fuck you," Bo Katan gritted her teeth as she fought the urge to orgasm. She hated it. She hated it all.

She hated how he succeeded where Vizsla failed. She hated how he tore him apart with ease. She hated how he never ordered the death of her and her supporters the minute she tried to defect, instead choosing to challenge her to a duel of politics instead of combat. She hated how she had no choice but to accept, knowing that doing so otherwise, while perhaps prideful, would serve to do nothing but drag them to their swift end.

She hated how he won the duel, seizing Mandalore and eliminating their shady pawns in one swift move. She hated how only she cared about his hedonistic nature, and how he warmed the royal throne that once belonged to her sister with their bodies. She hated how he stripped down to his life day suit while ordering her to keep her armor on, penetrating her clothing and maidenhood with his cock alone.

But most of all…

Why does this feel so good? she groaned internally as he came deep inside her.

This man was scum - a disgusting pig of a man that would undoubtedly savor every riches, women, and power he could get his greasy fingers on. And yet, somehow, she could feel that, unlike the Jedi, Sith, or Mandalore of the past, he could and would succeed in his quest for domination.

Yes, that was why she chose to submit. Perhaps he was Sith at heart, but he did still win the throne and the sword through legitimate means, as much as s̵̯̋h̵͔̑e̷̜͆ hated to admit it.

And besides… She placed a hand over her belly, feeling his still rock-hard cock twitching inside her womb. He wields the power of the gods in his veins. It certainly would benefit Mandalore should the future warriors inherit his powers.

As if that strange glowing power wasn't enough, he had an arsenal of otherworldly abilities that defined him as the perfect warrior. From the ability to boost his speed, strength, and even manipulate the power of the elements even most Jedi and Sith couldn't perform, he evidently could shapeshift and multiply himself as easily as one could breathe. Should he choose to do so, he could undoubtedly conquer an entire system himself, with an army of his ego and will razing through cities and armies like a vibroblade through flesh.

That sort of destruction power shared within her bloodline…it was almost potent enough to help swallow down the feelings of guilt, shame, and embarrassment she felt as her sister watched in horror, disgust, and morbid fascination from behind.

"Sister…" Satine Kryze gasped softly. Her royal, noble clothes were now rags, torn to tatters by the angered crowds as she was paraded like the criminals they had brutally massacred. Her armored escorts did nothing to stop the assaults unless they grew near-fatal, with bruised ribs being the worst she had received.

Despite the humiliation, despite the complete defeat she and her ideology had suffered, she couldn't help but wonder and feel that perhaps she did deserve this. After all, a good leader was responsible for everyone's failures and successes. Don't get her wrong, she knew that Death Watch had everything to do with this assault and rescue - her message that went disregarded and spat on - but in the end, she was enough of a woman to accept her defeat.

That's why when she suddenly felt her body being gently lifted up by an invisible force, she said nothing.

That's why when she glanced quickly at her sister - who lay on the floor discarded like a used rag, covered in sweat and other fluids - she accepted that that was her fate as well.

That's why when her clothes were violently torn off by the man's supernatural powers, she refrained from shivering in fear and from pleading for mercy.

And that's why when her virginity was taken in a flash of pain and pleasure, all she did was let out a tear as she closed her eyes, trying to imagine that it belonged to the dashing, young Jedi that had once charmed and saved her life.

But that young Jedi was far, far away, meditating his troubles away in the comfort of that wretched temple of theirs. She didn't know about the Force or how it worked, but some part of her hoped that he would be able to feel her pain and sorrow.

Just the pain. Not the sudden onset of pleasure that wracked her body. Not how his vile manthing reached all the right places, and how she fucking came too many times to count~

Satine Kyrze's eyes rolled to the back of her head as she felt him erupt deep inside her. His semen felt oddly hot, making her barely conscious body shiver a little, before she succumbed to the darkness.


["Ah! Ah! Nooo, not like thiiiiisss!"]

["F-Fucking Kriiiiifffff~ !"]

In every civilized part of the galaxy with the HoloNet, a live show of a strange, masked man ravaging two women in front of a throne.

This would've been somewhat alright on its own, since it's hardly the first time a prankster have put such smutty films on the HoloNet, except that it was Satine Kyrze - the leader of Mandalore - and her sister Bo Katan, the infamous Death Watch Mandalorian.

["Greetings, worlds."] the masked, robed figure stated. ["I am Darth Kyuubi, and, as of right now, I am the current ruler of Mandalore. Even as I speak, my forces are spreading across the many neutral systems, which are currently merging into my new empire. Under my new regime, there will be no more inequality. No more inhumane slavery. No more needless…suffering."]

Holographic recordings then flashed into place.

The many spice mines that served as a tomb for many of its slaves and underpaid workers.

The lower levels of Coruscant - filthy, polluted, dank, and dark.

The Jedi Temple, standing tall and luxuriously.

The many Twi'leks living in poverty, forced to live as either slaves or playthings for Hutts.

Orn Free Taa, who visited one of Coruscant's buffets.

A Twi'lek child sitting in a dark alleyway, the many vehicles zipping by above him like the skyscrapers of the same planet, uncaring of his reduced state of skin and bones.

The Hutts and the many criminal cartels, and their tyrannical empire of spice and slaves built on the bodies of the innocent and rivals alike.

The planet of Zygerria, before cutting to its surface - the slave trade that was once thought to have been forbidden by the Republic, continuing on due to the lack of authority.

The many bodies of Zygerrians being thrown carelessly into a pile by the people they have once enslaved, burnt to a crisp as they celebrated their new freedom and their new empire.

The broken, cum-covered mess that was once the queen of Zygerria, with many more former slaves in line to relieve their pain onto her.

All the criminal leaders' heads mounted on spikes on Mandalore, their expressions of horror still etched onto their rotting faces.

["In just a month, I have done far more than what your puny, lying oligarchy you call the Republic have done for the galaxy. In just a month, I have accomplished what the Jedi should've done so many millennia ago. In just a month, I have created what the Sith Empire of the old days could've become - the solution."]

His eyes, which glowed harshly under its dark visor, burned with passion and hate, all the while the two women he was fucking in front of the galaxy continued to moan and flush.

["In time, more of my soldiers of Mandalore are traveling throughout the galaxy, inviting any system that feels that both the Republic and this new Separatist government have failed. In time, both groups would crumble from their own selfish, misguided desire, the engineer of their downfall the work of men who have lost their way or cannot see the bigger picture. Should you wish to join my new Sith Empire or should you require our assistance in your overblown spat…you know how to contact me. Darth Kyuubi out."]

And with that, the forced holo transmission ended, leaving the galaxy stunned and in silence for one unified moment.