Mandalore sat quietly in the chambers of his palace and thought about the news that had recently overtaken him. Their monster was eliminated, Mereel and Cuyaes were dead, the Blan Flos wiped out. Basically not bad news. But what disturbed him most about it was that all of this seemed to have been initiated by just one Jedi. Mereel wasn't wrong. The Jedi would indeed pose the greatest threat to a Mandalorian victory. But this won't stop them from waging this war. They just needed a little more time until Demagol developed a weapon against Force users. Mandalore just hoped this wouldn't take too long. Because time was running out for them too. It was very likely that the Republic had now found out from that Jedi what the Mandalorians were up to.

But now it was too late to backtrack. Mandalore would not give up what he had fought and would continue to fight so hard for. Yes, the war would turn out to be more difficult than planned, but this was the blood test that has been imposed on the Mandalorians. Their task was now to follow this and Mandalore knew that they would be victorious. That was their destiny.

There was a knock on the door and one of the Neo-Crusaders entered the chamber.

"There is someone who would like to speak to you," he reported.

"Let him in," Mandalore ordered. He was curious to see who wanted something from him now of all times.

"Just like that?"

"What should happen?"

"Understood."

Everyone knew what the title "Mandalore" meant. After all, you didn't just get it like that. It was reserved for the greatest warrior in the galaxy. Mandalore wasn't afraid of any guy like that. He pulled the golden mask over his gray face and reached for his Mythosaur axe.

When his visitor entered, Mandalore knew he wouldn't even need these. In front of him stood a small, crooked old man.

"Greetings, Mandalore," he said in his deep, raspy voice, looking at him.

Mandalore had a deja vu. He knew this man. He had never seen its red skin, the short tentacles on its cheeks and its yellow eyes before on anyone else. Over a year ago, this man came to him once and introduced himself as an emissary from a Sith Emperor. At first, Mandalore thought he was insane, since the Sith Empire was destroyed in the Great Hyperspace War over a thousand years ago, and wanted to throw him out again. However, he then made him an interesting offer. He told him that, on behalf of his master, he was looking for the grave of the former Sith Lord Darth Dramath II, a former rival of his. He suspected there were powerful artifacts there and hoped to render its spirit harmless if it still existed. He asked for the help of the strongest warrior in the galaxy, and in exchange he promised them, from his master, that he would help them make them great again and that they would get revenge for their defeat. This offer sounded too tempting for Mandalore to refuse and so he helped him in his search, even if he didn't hope for much. A month later they finally found what they were looking for on the planet Rekkiad. The man took the remains of the Sith Lord, but what followed was much more interesting. He told him about a vision his master once had. He saw Mandalore on a throne ruling over the galaxy, the Republic at his feet and the Mandalorians as the strongest force in the cosmos. The images of it burned into Mandalore's brain and soon after he became almost obsessed with it. Since then, he was sure that this encounter was not a coincidence but fate. He knew that it was their destiny to fight one last great battle against the Republic and emerge victorious. He immediately returned to Mandalore and began preparing his people for war. Many different species that previously only served as workers were now accepted into their ranks and trained to become perfect warriors within a year. Furthermore, countless slaves were purchased from conquered worlds in order to boost the armaments industry and in this one year more planets were brought under his control.

He had more than just respect for this man.

"Greetings," he replied. "Just rise, there is no need for formalities. What brings you here again?"

"I have good news. Our spies have reported that the Jedi have decided not to intervene in the war. So there are no more obstacles on your way to glorious victory."

Even with his mask on, Mandalore couldn't hide the surprise at this news. But it came right on time.

"We have to take advantage of this opportunity before they change their minds. I will notify my generals immediately."

He was about to storm out of the room when the man stopped him.

"Wait!" he shouted. "Don't rush into anything now."

"Why? Now is the perfect opportunity to strike."

"I have another piece of information for you," the man replied. "We also know that the Republic has decided not to intervene unless you attack its territory.

Mandalore was confused.

"And what's that supposed to change now?"

"This means that you can attack and conquer planets outside their territories as you please, undisturbed, for as long as you want."

He pulled a datacron out of his pocket.

"My master has drawn up a plan as to which planets you should best conquer over the years. Only strategically important points were selected."

He handed him the green glowing cube.

"Of course you can continue as you wish."

Mandalore took one look at the digital list. He wondered how he couldn't have figured that out himself. With worlds like Althir III or Ukio, he would take away crucial supply sources for the Republic. Attacks on Trogan or Jabiim would trigger enormous flows of refugees and thus cause further problems for the republic.

"If you follow this tactic, you can, more or less, expand your sphere of influence unnoticed. And when the time comes, and you are strong enough, strike with all your might and quickly shatter the Republic."

Satisfied, Mandalore smiled and pocketed the cube.

"Give my thanks to your master when you return," he requested. "And also tell him that the last crusade has now begun."

….

Tsaishu's onboard computer beeped as his shuttle received landing coordinates shortly after falling out of hyperspace over Dromund Kaas.

He was impressed by how easily the meeting with Mandalore went, but he never doubted the Emperor's genius. It was also his idea to lure Mandalore into Darth Dramath's tomb. There the dark side was so strong that even a strong spirit like his could not resist the influence of a trained Sith. And now the time had come. He was finally able to break the news to his master that the war had begun.

A short time later, the shuttle touched down on a landing platform high in the air in front of the Imperial Citadel in Kaas City. As he got out, the heavy rain pelted his cloak and within a few seconds he was completely soaked. But despite the constant rain on Dromund Kaas, the city was brighter than any other city planet thanks to the countless lights. Every now and then a flash of lightning also illuminated the area.

He walked the long path high in the air to the main entrance of the citadel, where a guard was stationed.

"I have a message for Lord Vitiate," he said. "Let me in!"

The gate opened and he quickly walked on a red carpet through the statue-decorated corridors until he reached the throne room.

When the gigantic rock gates opened, he was immediately overcome by a cold, dark aura of death. His body was frozen. He actually wanted to run away, but his mind refused. It would be unwise to waste the Emperor's time, at least if you wanted to live on. He entered carefully and the gates closed behind him with a loud bang.

"Lord Tsaishu," the Emperor's voice rang out throughout the room. "You're back."

It was by far the most terrifying sound he had ever heard. Deep, dark, ice cold and scary, like a black hole. Loud, omnipresent and yet with a deadly calm behind it. And there he sat, ten meters in front of him. Wrapped in a pitch-black robe on his throne on a slight rise, lit by two torches of blue fire on either side. Behind him hung a large red banner with the Imperial symbol on it to show everyone who the one true Dark Lord was.

Sweating in fear, he knelt down and lowered his head to the ground.

"What do you have to report?"

"I have good news, my lord." He tried not to shake as he spoke. "The Mandalorians are ready for war. Their attack will begin soon."

The Emperor stood from his throne and looked menacingly down at Tsaishu with his bloodshot eyes. And now he also saw his face, pale as chalk, riddled with wrinkles and scars, which looked more like that of a corpse than that of a living being. It radiated death himself.

"You have done a good job, Lord Tsaishu," the whole room buzzed again. "Rise."

Actually, Tsaishu didn't want to look at him directly, but if he said it, you'd be wise to do so.

"The first step towards our revenge has now been taken."