— Chapter 4: Neo-Crusaders —
The stench of sweat and blood hung in the stale air as the Republic Lieutenant woke up. Feeling a burning on his wrists and ankles, he looked down to see himself bound tightly by thick ropes on a cold, metal chair. His skin was raw and bloody where the bindings had rubbed the flesh.
Controlling his rapid breathing, the Lieutenant's instincts kicked in to stay calm. He looked around himself, noting the grimy and bronze metal walls - caked in dirt and discoloured by time. Next to him was bound another soldier. 'Rinn', the Lieutenant reminded himself. Rinn was a fellow soldier in the platoon he commanded, though he struggled to remember any interactions the two had shared past a couple of call-outs and small-talk. Rinn was unconscious, and despite the Lieutenant's hushed efforts to wake him, stayed that way. Blood had run down the side of his head and dried. Judging by the wounds, the two of them had been there for a little while. 'A day at most' the man thought.
The last thing he could remember was watching a Mandalorian army charge on their position on the planet Flashpoint, where the Republic was supposed to stop the enemy from continuing through the outer rim. Lasers, clouds of fire and enemy spacecraft had covered the skies as armoured warriors charged their defences. Somehow, the Lieutenant must have been knocked out cold - and now here he was, bound up and defeated.
Heavy footsteps preceded the entrance of two Mandalorians, who stood waiting by the doorway which slid open. Though their faces were hidden behind their masks, the Lieutenant could sense the inhuman contempt radiating from their stiff postures. One of the warriors wore typical blue armour - with their helmet curving to form shoulder plates that seamlessly blended in with the breastplate. The other, clearly a woman, wore a more unique and unconventional design, the man thought, that clashed with the more uniformly blue and gold aesthetic of the army. Her armour was silver with accents of red. Her mask did not bear the same visor, but rather a black strip through which she could see, and red markings pointed down toward the chin.
"Your people fought well, Lieutenant." A cold voice rang out from the corridor behind the open door. "But your failures have rendered your life forfeit, and the burden is on me to decide whether your life ends here or not." The unmistakable figure of Field Marshal Cassus Fett appeared from the shadows, staring the bound man down from behind his T-shaped visor. "So my advice is this: Comply and live." The Marshal pulled a small vibro-blade dagger from his belt and lifted it to his visor, eyeing the energetic pulse of the weapon. "Wake him up." He lazily gestured to Rinn. The two Mandalorian warriors grabbed the man and roughly shook him before one smacked him across the face with a heavy thud. Rinn gasped, his eyes snapping open.
"Wha- where am I? I-" he slowly registered the warriors standing above him with dread, and then finally his eyes settled on Marsal Fett. "What do you want with me?"
"Simple." He calmly responded. "Tell me where your Republic soldiers are fleeing to, or I will slit your throat."
Rinn's face turned white as he opened and closed his mouth repeatedly in shock. No sound was able to come from his quivering lips.
"We-we don't know where they are!" The Lieutenant stammered, he was lying - of course - and his mind was racing. Enough men had died on his watch today, and he would not let the Mandalorians take another.
"Quiet, Lieutenant." Fett snarled. "I will get to you next. Let us hope you reconsider your answer before then."
Rinn began to whimper.
"Because of your people's bravery, I will allow you five seconds to tell me, soldier. Five."
Rinn, tears now forming as his entire body shook with fear, turned to look at the Lieutenant. "Please." He begged.
"Four."
The Lieutenant felt his stomach drop as he realised his soldier was asking permission to reveal the information. Even facing death, his army was loyal. The Lieutenant opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out.
"Three."
'I can't do this. I can't let him sell them out.'
"Two."
'But it's not worth his life. It's not worth losing one more soldier.'
"One."
'I'm so sorry.'
Without a word, Fett grabbed Rinn's hair, yanked his head back, and drove the dagger across the man's neck. The movement was precise and lightning-fast, and he did not flinch as arterial spray splashed his golden armour.
The Lieutenant gasped and began to shake, closing his eyes as he heard Rinn die. It was slow and sickening. The man gasped for air as his lungs filled with blood, and eventually his tense arms relaxed and hung from his sides.
Fett's eyes stayed on the Lieutenant as the soldier died. He seemed to draw strength from the fear.
"How many men have you let die today?" He taunted, kneeling down to reach the man's level. "Tell me where your forces are hiding, and maybe you'll get to be the one to tell his family he's gone."
The Lieutenant looked into Fett's eyes. His face was white with hatred, but his mind was already made.
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Fett stormed through his flagship, heading toward the barracks. His two aides followed him at the same pace, struggling to keep up.
"Marshal, what should we do about the prisoner?" The Mandalorian in blue asked.
"He gave us what we wanted, but he let a man die." Cassus stated. "Give him to one of the hounds. If he survives, drop him somewhere cold."
"Very well, sir." The blue Mandalorian stopped to return to the brig.
"And give him a stick so he has a chance." Fett ordered as he and the silver and red Mandalorian kept walking.
Fett and his aide reached the barracks, which were full of warriors dressed uniformly in blue and gold. As the Marshal entered, they each simultaneously saluted and formed ranks.
"Mandalorians!" Fett yelled, using his native Mando'a tongue. "Today, we march on Wayland. Our Republic enemy will bleed and burn in their attempts to prevent our ascension, but we are strong and with us we carry glory!" The Mandalorians cheered, hitting their arms together to form a symphony of metallic hate. "Fight well and die honourably, for the great Mand'alor himself will lead us into victory!" At the mention of their leader, the Mandalorians grew quieter and more attentive. The Mand'alor always fought alongside his army, but many of these men and women had never had the privilege of seeing him from behind their own visors. "The weak and cowardly system that has poisoned the galaxy for so long will know the power of Mandalore, and the age of the Neo-Crusaders will soon be upon us!"
At the front of the hall and behind Fett, the silver and red Mandalorian woman shifted her feet slightly. Was her uncertainty simply anticipation? Perhaps. Or perhaps she viewed the Field Marshal differently, as he roared in triumph and glory - still slick with the warm blood of Rinn.
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Bastila woke to the sound of alarms blaring. Within the shuttle, she could faintly hear the muffled yells of soldiers and guards rushing to action. She had no idea how long she had been sleeping, nor what hour in the morning it was, however she sprang out of her cold bed, pulled her robes on and left the ship at a brisk pace. Tokare was standing on the landing pad outside, watching panic-stricken soldiers run by in uniform.
"What's going on?" Bastila asked.
"It would appear that the Mandalorians have found us."
"How?"
"Scouts, traitors, perhaps." Tokare shrugged.
A Republic Private made his way from the camp towards the landing pad, where he waved to the two Jedi.
"The Admiral's looking for you!" He yelled. Tokare and Bastila both exchanged an uneasy look before following the soldier to Karath's quarters.
"It's too late to evacuate." Saul growled in response to Tokare's attempts to find a peaceful way out of the incoming battle. "By the time our patrols found them, they were already amassing a fleet above the atmosphere. They'll be firebombing the camp within minutes."
"Then we need to transport the injured." Tokare calmly advised.
"No use. It'd take hours to move so many bodies. I'm setting up a perimeter outside, but we won't be able to hold them off alone."
"I'm going to assume that's where we come in?" Bastila guessed.
"Yes." Karath nodded.
"We will help." Tokare started, slowly. "But this doesn't mean that the Jedi have joined the war."
"Never mind that." Saul snapped. "You Jedi and your politics. I need you to get to the front lines and bolster the defences. Once the Mandalorians get here, they'll have to get through you to reach any of the injured."
"What if we're not enough?" Bastila frowned, fear beginning to set in.
"The nearest base is forming up a bombing squadron to help us drive the enemy out. They'll be here soon."
Silence hung in the room for a moment as the situation dawned on them all.
"Well then, we'd best get ready." Tokare said. "May the force be with us all."
"Sure." Saul shrugged.
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Far above Wayland, two Kyramud battleships began to descend towards the planet's surface. Leading the fleet was Cassus Fett's Kandosii Dreadnaught.
From the flagship emerged three large shuttles, which zipped down into the clouds below.
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"Heavy artillery, now!" An Officer yelled as a squadron of enemy Davaab fighters roared over the camp. Anti-aircraft guns blasted lasers after them, missing by mere inches. To Carth's surprise, the Mandalorian ships did not fire back - though they had been presented with the perfect opportunity to flatten the hospital. He watched the fighters gain altitude and begin to bank to circle back around the base from the hangar, confused and concerned.
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Karath watched the Mandalorian shuttles descend from the clouds and land in unison, slowly, in a large clearing beyond the Republic's defences.
"All units, hold the line and prepare to open fire." He growled into his comms device, which was situated on his wrist. He stood atop the stairs that led into the back entrance of the hospital - in front of the large doors which had been locked tight. Before him, swathes of his soldiers stood in their battalions, forming a long line that covered the perimeter of the camp. Officers and Captains stood in mobile communication stations - their Capital ships in no state to fight back, and parked elsewhere for repairs and refuelling.
The Mandalorian shuttles landed heavily on the wet grassy clearing, the ramps kicking up dirt as they lowered. From the two flanking shuttles, platoons of blue Neo-Crusaders and their commanding Rally Masters - wearing crimson armour plating - rushed out, weapons drawn, to form ranks.
"Hold your fire!" Saul yelled, noticing that the warriors were not attacking yet. He knew that his soldiers stood a chance at defeating the current enemy forces, but a fight would be hopeless with the warships above ready to flatten everything within a ten-mile radius.
The central shuttle lowered its ramp with a burst of smoke, and Field Marshal Cassus Fett emerged, eyeing down Saul's soldiers before stepping aside.
The massive, physically imposing figure of Mandalore the Ultimate made his way down the ramp, stopping on the damp soil to stare down all of the frightened troops before him. His armour was bulky and impressive and he stood far taller than any of the other Mandalorians around him. A scarlet cape was draped down his back, complemented by a matching kama.
"Admiral Saul Karath!" The hulking man roared. "Step forward!"
"You only have to keep him talking long enough for the bombers to get here." An Officer whispered to the Admiral, who nodded. His mouth dry and his legs trembling slightly, Saul swallowed his fear and made his way down the stairs to the front lines.
"Ah," The Mand'alor breathed. "I have beheld your efforts at Vanquo. I crushed your forces, perhaps you remember?" Saul stayed silent, denying the brute the satisfaction of a response. "I'm sure we can all agree that you are among the best of your people, but even you cannot hope to oppose us and win."
"If you're going to fight, then fight." Saul yelled. The Mand'alor chuckled.
"As much as I find the idea alluring, this is a hospital." The man gestured to the camp, before looking back down at the Admiral. "It would bring only dishonour to destroy this place out of bloodlust. I have no such wish." He paused.
"What is this all about then?" Saul asked, stone-faced. "Conquest? Superiority?" Mandalore the Ultimate laughed in response.
"Of course not. Our war of glory isn't about proving strength. It's about salvation. We are here to cleanse the galaxy of the Republic rot." He looked around at the soldiers before him. "That is why I will ask you all to step forward, those who would serve me in this task."
Nobody moved in the slightest.
"Never," Saul spat. "We will never surrender to the likes of you."
Cassus Fett slowly drew his pistol from its holster on his belt.
"Perhaps you are braver than I gave you credit for, Admiral. If violence is what you seek, then you shall have it. But let it be remembered that I gave you a chance to change your fates. I see no honour in destroying a hospital, so I tried to save you all, but you insist on bloodshed. So let me ask you this: Where is your Chancellor? When did you people become so weak that you would abide by the rule of a man who would not fight his own wars? I remember when legions united under burning skies - Skies which blazed with the fury of Mandalore - and swore to restore honour to the corrupt and unjust lie of bureaucracy. And we will do so, and everyone who attempts to prevent our destiny will die."
In a flash, Mandalore the Ultimate lifted his long cortosis axe above his head and roared a Mando'a battlecry. The Neo-Crusaders immediately opened fire, killing a number of Republic soldiers before anyone processed the event.
"Fire!" Saul screamed as laser bolts filled the air. He rushed forward towards the temporary blockades built against attackers and took cover. A platoon of Neo-Crusaders and their Rally Master began to cross against the grassy clearing towards their enemy, firing indiscriminately. Sparks flew in all directions and soldiers dropped dead around Saul.
Within seconds of the skirmish breaking out, the unmistakable sound of lightsabers igniting echoed through the smoke and lasers.
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Bastila and Tokare leapt into action, instinctively running past injured soldiers to cover them as they were dragged back towards the building. Thoughts raced through Bastila's head, but she pushed them aside as her training kicked in. She had never seen battle, nor witnessed violence, but the Jedi's core tenet of protecting lives took hold before she could feel the true shock and horror of the situation. Reaching out with her mind, she felt the force rippling between the approaching Mandalorian warriors and she began to anticipate the blaster bolts right before they left the guns - giving her just enough time to deflect them safely away.
Tokare was much quicker than his former Padawan, leaping between structures and defensive walls to block as many lasers from striking their targets as he could. With a deep sense of focus, he swung his lightsaber forward and deflected a bolt directly back at one of the Neo-Crusaders. He watched it hit the warrior square in the chest with a clang and a burst of sparks, but fear dawned on him as the soldier merely stumbled - nearly wholly unaffected.
"Aim for their legs and necks!" Someone yelled. Tokare eyed the Mandalorian warriors closely, noticing gaps in the armour plating at those specific parts of the body. Even if he knew how to defeat them, however, there was no way of getting close enough to fight them directly without being gunned down immediately.
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With a boom that rattled Saul's body, an explosion tore through a group of Republic soldiers, sending dirt and blades of grass flying as well as crumbling some of the defences. The Admiral looked up to see Mandalorian fighters fly over the cloud of fiery smoke and begin to circle back.
"Carth, get your squadron up there!" He yelled, lifting his comms unit to his mouth.
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In the hangar, Carth immediately jumped into his Aurek strikefighter. Placing his hands on the joystick, he paused as he noticed them begin to shake. His heartbeat quickened and blood pumped through his head with a throbbing pain. Breathing deeply, he signalled his squadron to take off. It dawned on him that he had only learned their names a day ago. 'Will I have to watch them die too?' He thought as he lifted off and raced out of the hangar towards the fiery destruction.
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From below, Bastila saw the Republic fighters give chase to the Mandalorian ships, drawing them away from the ground skirmish. Her focus snapping back to the battle at hand, she continued to swing her twin yellow blades around her to deflect the laser fire.
The advancing Neo-Crusaders reached the Republic defences, and unsheathed their vibroblade swords.
"Push forward!" Saul yelled from his cover as the warriors began to drive their swords into the nearest of his soldiers.
Bastila and Tokare threw their hands out in unison - kicking up dust as they force pushed a number of the Mandalorians back onto the grass. They both rushed forth to block their melee attacks, absorbing the impact of the heavy blows with their knees. Bastila twisted her lightsaber, pushing a warrior's sword down with one blade and bringing the second up to slash their neck. Gasping, the Mandalorian collapsed backwards as life left their body.
The Jedi Knight hesitated, stunned by her own actions. She thought that she knew what she was getting into when travelling to Wayland, but it had never dawned on her that she would be taking her first life.
In the seconds that she paused, the second platoon of Mandalorians began to advance forward. Republic soldiers saw the opportunity to push past the defences and leapt over the barriers - ready to face the warriors out in the open. Without hesitation, Tokare jumped with impossible speed in front of the running soldiers to face two warriors alone. Bastila followed suit, swinging her lightsaber to meet the blade of one of the crimson Rally Masters. They struggled in a saber lock until she instinctively kicked the Mandalorian's leg, causing him to crumple onto one knee. She spun to slash his chest, but her lightsaber merely grazed the armour, leaving a vague scorch mark. The Rally Master cursed in Mando'a, laughing at her surprise, before jumping back up to swing wildly at Bastila. She dashed backwards, barely dodging the sword which rippled with energy.
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Carth was speeding through the air after one of the Mandalorian fighters. The enemy ship had a manoeuvrability that he had never before seen in any vehicle, and he struggled to keep it in his sights. Pressing the joystick down, he nosedived in pursuit and nearly crashed into the ground as the Mandalorian pulled up at the last minute. He pulled on the trigger wildly, firing laser bolts into the air after the enemy. Some hit their target, pinging off the top of the craft and scoring black marks on the metal.
Out of nowhere, the enemy ship suddenly banked to the side with extreme speed and began to fire lasers down at the Republic side of the skirmish. Soldiers fell as clouds of dust erupted around them.
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Tokare jumped onto the shoulders of one of the Mandalorian warriors and drove his lightsaber into his neck. With incredible speed, he flipped from the chest of the dead warrior onto the back of another, killing him before landing on the wet ground.
"Jedi!" A voice roared across the clearing. Tokare spun around to face Mandalore the Ultimate, who was pointing at him with his axe. The cortosis weapon was almost as tall as the Mand'alor himself, and vibrated with electrical energy. "Face me in battle!" The man yelled as he began to charge towards the Jedi Master. Tokare ran towards the Mandalorian and leapt high into the air right before they clashed, making it over the man's massive form and swatting his axe out of the way before landing behind him. The Jedi then flipped backwards to slash the Mand'alor's back, but the warrior turned with precision and drew his axe inward, smashing it into Tokare's lightsaber with extraordinary strength. Tokare was sent flying as the electrical energy of the weapon was sent in its entirety into his small body.
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Across the clearing, Bastila channelled all of her might into a force push that hurled the Rally Master into the air, crashing back down on the ground head-first with a sickening crunch. The warrior's body rolled down a small grassy slope to the feet of another Mandalorian - one that did not wear the uniform that the rest bore. Instead, she was clad in a red and silver helmet. Roaring, she fired two bolts of her rifle at the Jedi Knight, who deflected them back. 'She's fast,' Bastila thought as she watched the female warrior roll out of the way of the deflected lasers. She readied a defensive stance as the enemy rushed towards her, vibroblade drawn. The two locked blades, struggling before they pulled back and began to duel. The swords hit with sparks of energy and ripples of heat. Even with the power of the force, Bastila was struggling against the Mandalorian. The warrior carried a strength and intensity behind every blow that rattled the bones in Bastila's arms and caused her to sink further to her knees. The Mandalorian locked her blade to the Jedi's lightsaber, pushing it aside and delivering a heavy, metallic punch to Bastila's face, stunning her. Kicking her to the ground, the female warrior lifted her sword for the killing blow.
Her vision hazy and blood running down her cheeks, Bastila desperately yelled for help, but nobody had noticed her.
The red-and-silver helmeted Mandalorian readied herself to stab Bastila through the chest, but suddenly hesitated. She could feel the Jedi's warm blood in the gaps between her armour plating. Field Marshal Fett would have called the feeling of being washed in the blood of one of the corrupt mystics an honour. But the female Mandalorian could only think of the blood of Rinn, which Fett still had not washed from his armour. Trembling, she lowered her blade and ran off to disappear into the battle. Perhaps if she became lost among the crowd of her fellow comrades, Fett would never notice her dishonour and cowardice.
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Tokare struggled to lift himself off the ground. He had sustained multiple blows from Mandalore the Ultimate's axe, and his body shook with bruises and cuts.
"You fight well." The Mandalorian hissed. "Rejoice, for you shall have the honour of being the first Jedi to die in the pursuit of a stronger galaxy." Spinning his axe around, the Mand'alor knocked Tokare with the bottom of his staff, which crackled with electricity. The shock threw the Jedi back by five metres. His body crumpled to the ground and he struggled to stand back up.
"You are beaten." The Mandalorian observed. "So I shall make your death quick."
"No!" A voice screamed. Bastila stood behind Mandalore the Ultimate, across the clearing amid the smoke and fire that had claimed patches of withering grass. She was bleeding and struggling to walk, but ignited her lightsaber with a fierce determination.
"I continue to find myself impressed with the bravery of the Jedi." The Mandalorian remarked, laughing. "Very well. You may die too." Twisting his axe, he prepared to charge.
"Bombers incoming!" Saul yelled from somewhere in the battlefield. All of a sudden, the roar of incoming ships echoed from nearby. "Take cover!" The Admiral continued.
The Mand'alor looked up, spotting the Republic bombers - which were rapidly closing in on the clearing.
"Luck is the saviour of the weak." He muttered, turning back to face Bastila. "Until next time, Jedi." He rushed back to his shuttle as the warriors and soldiers around them stopped fighting to find somewhere to hide.
"Master!" Bastila yelled to Tokare, who was still collapsed on the ground. She ran towards him, reaching his body.
"Run," the Jedi Master whispered weakly.
All of a sudden, there was a deafening explosion as the first of the bombs landed. The force shook the two Jedi's bodies. In an unprecedented burst of strength, Tokare force pushed Bastila away from him and stood up.
"Master, no!" She screamed as she watched her former Master use the force to lift a large piece of rocky debris into the path of an incoming bomb. It exploded in a cloud of fiery dust which engulfed the air around Tokare. The shockwave rammed into Bastila's body, sending her hurtling through the air and back onto the wet ground. As she rolled away from the destruction, her head hit the ground and the world around her faded away.
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"Mandalore, should I give the order to begin bombarding the camp?" Marshal Fett asked, observing the fiery chaos below from his shuttle.
"No." The Mand'alor muttered. "Allow them this small victory. Let them tend to their wounds and heal their injured. The survivors will remember this day before they return to fight us again."
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Bastila woke up, slowly, in an uncomfortable white hospital bed.
"Where am I?" She groaned, her memories beginning to return to her with a pang of pain as she registered the cuts on her face.
"You're still on Wayland." A nurse answered, pushing her back down onto the bed as she tried to sit up. "You've been out for a while, but you're recovering quickly. You'll be alright in a day or two."
"Where's Master Tokare? Is he alive?" Bastila asked, her consciousness fully returning.
"The other Jedi? He's alive, don't worry." The nurse comforted her. "He's recovering at the moment." He paused. "Now, I'm going to leave you here for now while I tend to some other patients. Rest, you'll be well soon."
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A short while after the nurse left, Bastila managed to lift herself out of the bed. She had been changed into looser hospital attire, and kolto patches had been applied to her larger wounds. 'I've failed' was all Bastila could think. 'I've been trained for situations like this all my life, and I failed.'
After wandering the hospital for what felt like hours and walking past countless halls filled to the brim with bloody, moaning soldiers, she eventually found the emergency ward in which Tokare was being treated. Much of his body was bandaged, and the hair on his head had been completely singed. A medical droid noticed her and began to hover over to the doorway.
"I am sorry, but we do not allow visitors at this time." The droid hummed.
"It's okay, I just want to know if he's going to be alright." Bastila said, her heart beating quickly. Attachments of any kind had always been forbidden by the Jedi Council, but she had no idea what she would do if her former Master died.
"I am sorry, but we do not allow visitors at this time." The droid repeated, before locking the shutters over the door and returning to Tokare's bedside to monitor his vitals. Bastila stepped back in defeat, guilt clawing at her, before she retreated back to her room.
'I wasn't strong enough to protect him.' She thought, exhausted and beaten. 'He trusted me above anyone else, and I failed him.'
Her near-death at the hands of the red-and-silver female Mandalorian replayed over and over again in her mind as she tried to sleep, until finally she gave in and let her mental barriers down. Tears ran down her injured face as she curled up in her cold, metal bed.
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