Location: In the skies above The Great Grass Plains, on the planet Naboo!
"Creeeek!"
That sound was really starting to get to Mirta.
Ever since the Tra'Kad she had been travelling in had breached Naboo's atmosphere, the beast of a ship seemed to be protesting gravity's reassertion of dominance.
The small annoyance was especially irritating, due to the fact that her mind couldn't afford any more distractions right now. She was moments away from Battle, and her psyche was still reeling from the past 12 hours. She had been at home enjoying a quiet dinner with her husband, when Sintas and Goran had broken the news.
Goran, had dressed it up all pretty too; some wonderful tale of : "The Mandalore receiving devine blessings from The Great Oversoul to guide his people to one last glorious battle, then enraptured by the Manda, sealing his place for all time in..." Blah, Blah, Blah.
Her response was Classic Mirta: "Cut the poodoo, Bevine! The Hut'uun (Coward) off'd himself! Didn't he?
The response came, not from Goran, but from Sintas. A non verbal response... A Mandalorian response.
Even now, her cheek was still swollen and bruised form the humbling blow her grandmother laid upon her. She had great respect for Sintas. And if the woman was that vehement in her defence of Fett, then there had to be a good story behind it.
But... All that family messiness, would have to wait until the mission was over. Mission? Or Holy Crusade? In a matter of a couple weeks. It had gone from: "Protecting the livelihood of the underground fringe", to: "The reemergence of an ancient Mandalore. A conquering Mandalore."
Things had gone from strange to surreal with the addition of this new Sith Leader, with his new Biot army. She had worked with both, the Sith and Biots, in the past. It had been disastrous! Did she really believe things would be different? Yet, the lure of glory and battle drove her forward.
A moment or two of additional contemplation, could have led to her fully understanding why Fett did what he did.
But it was not to be...
Her concentration was broken by another "Creeeek".
"Dammit!" She shook her head in frustration.
The groan of the troop carrier was suddenly replaced by Thud... Thud... Thud, Thud, Thud..." as the vessel hit the tops of trees on the edge of the swampland.
A couple more thuds and bangs and then: The relative silence of air rushing over the hull, as the Tra'Kad cleared the swamp and entered the grasslands.
The new found peace inside the carrier, came to an abrupt end as the ship made groundfall. The Tra'Kad was not a pretty little ship, built for an elegant landing. It was through and through Mandalorian. It was made for breaching the toughest of enemy defences. It was a wrecking ball! The ship made contact with ground at high speed and came to a skidding halt.
A muggy wind, came gushing into the troop hold as the ramp/hatch was deployed. There was no hesitation or delay. Super camandos and Yuuzhan Vong, on either side of her, came pouring out through the hatch; some on foot, and some by rocket boosters.
And these were not alone! Several other Tra'Kads had landed at the same time, disgorging their chache of warriors onto the battlefield. All of them with a single goal... A single target: Luke Skywalker.
Malgus had made that clear... it was all part of the his great scheme:
So far, things were on track. The drones, had overwhelmed the planet's already meager population of spacecraft and orbital stations; effectively cutting Naboo off from the rest of the galaxy. True, the drones had all been destroyed, but that was ok.
That's why her people were here. Malgus promised them the opportunity to prove themselves. Their place in a newly reshaped galaxy would be determined by this battle.
In less then an hour, Luke and his noble little band of zealots would be dead. Was this a good thing?
Absolutely! It was good for Mandalore, and that's all she needed to know.
Doning her helmet and activating her jetpack, she came blasting out of the Tra'Kad with a lust for victory! That Lust, suddenly morphed into weariness. Then into confusion. Then, into an emotion every Mandalrian denied knowing:
Fear!
The sun had finally crested above the horizon.
Luke stood on the gentle slope of a grassy hill that rose from the plain. He was surrounded by his followers, his family, and a mixed company of... of friends. He had considered facing down, Malgus and his hordes, alone. But the force told him to let the others remain. They needed to be here!
As he watched the Mandalorian troop carriers make landfall and unleash their deadly passengers, lightsabers ignited around him. At the same time, Nogri Blades and blasters were unsheathed and readied.
He was counting on them to save him from this Dark force! And they, in turn, were counting on him to stop Malgus, who was noticeably absent!
Just then, the incoming army, slowed its advance, ever so slightly as recognition dawned.
The Mandalorians had indeed been expecting the small pocket of Jedi that stood around Luke. But the Nogri? That was a surprise!
However, Mandalorians weren't cowards. A fight with greater odds was simply put: A greater fight!
The lull in forward momentum was only brief, as the approaching force actually increased their speed.
Goran Bevine lead the charge. The man was absolutely savage with a Beskad. As he approached the Nogri line, he raised the short sword high while releasing a battle cry that was equal parts joy and determination. The nature of the battle was instantly determined, when several blaster bolts harmlessly bounced off Bevine's Beskar armour: A melee battle, then! It would be Messy! It would be intense! It would be glorious! With that, he quickly dispatched the first Nogri warrior he came in contact with.
All around, grey skin assassins engaged armoured commandos, and the result was a demonstration in deadly juxtaposition.
Mandos were ruthless and brutal. They got an almost euphoric high, every time they were able to plunge their blade into the vital organs of their enemy. They also relied heavily on their proprietary technology to give them an edge against their opponents. Most opponents, that is.
The Nogri were every bit as lethal, but they preformed violence like a dance. They had a passion for combat as an artform, and it showed. Heavily muscled limbs moved like fluid as they avoided the unforgiving impact of Beskar blades. At the same time, the Nogri carried a dagger in each hand, and performed, surgical strikes on areas of weakness. Mandalorian armour may give the impression of invincibility, but the truth was, a solidior needed to move. There had to be a balance between flexibility and protection, so not every part of Warrior was protected.
For an average person, hitting these vulnerable spots would be like finding a single Tuscan flea in a sand pile. For a Nogri, trained as assassins from birth, it was not overly challenging.
A few jumps and thrusts of the dagger, and a Comando would fall to the ground in quartered pieces. Very clean, very efficient, and very silent.
On the scale of raw lethality, the Nogri had the upper hand. But there was nothing raw about a mandalorian commando. What they lacked in fine tuned talent, they more than made up for in deadly gadgets and dirty tricks. With the onslaught of several wrist rockets, the Nogri front changed tactics.
Without a word the Nogri's defensive permitter pushed outward and the fighting became less: Offensive meets defensive, and more: Cantina brawl. This forced the Mandos to abandon their long range rocket and blaster attacks, out of fear of friendly fire.
The change in tactics wasn't relayed over comms, rather it came from a communal awareness borne from instinct and experience, and enhanced by Luke Skywalker's battle meditation.
With a loud crackling "Boom", Sea'Yawna let another volley of ion bolts fly from her hand held cannon. Although she was in good physical shape, she had absolutely zero combat training or experience. That was the beauty of the Ion canon: You could just point, and fire.
Although Beskar was impervious to lightsabers and blasters, it could not nullify the effect ion bolts had on the technology embedded inside Manalorian armour.
A single blast would render jetpacks, Helmet H.U.D's, and gauntlet weapons, useless.
It didn't take long for the enemy to recognize the threat posed by this deceptively innocuous-looking Twi'lek. After receiving such a blast to the chest, one particularly stealthy Mando, was able to make her way to the young green skinned woman. She was so focused on firing her cannon, that she was unaware of the raised beskar blade behind her.
One moment the dagger wielding Mando was looking at the unguarded back of the Twi'lek's lovely neck, and the next...
She was looking up at Naboo's sky. Above, she saw the Twi'leks gorgeous green legs. She also noticed another pair of legs; armoured legs attached to...
A headless armoured body! Her own headless body! And then she noticed... Nothing, evermore.
Confirming that Sea'Yawna was no longer in immediate danger, Kruk'cakk turned his attention back to the battle. Every Nogri understood that besides Luke Skywalker, Sea'Yawna was the least expendable person on the battlefield. She had, after all been assigned by the Nogri elders to lead this battle. It wasn't her experience nor her skill as a warrior that recommended her to this role; she had neither
Rather, it was the fact that she possessed the heart of a True Nogri. She was extraordinarily brave, honourable, and determined. This, coupled with the fact that she was the one who had started this crusade, qualified her in the minds of all Nogri. She was a symbol, and she could not be allowed to fall.
Once the Nogri army was completely engaged with the Mandalorians, Tendrando arms' latest creation attacked.
Genetic material from Yuuzhan Vong warriors, their armour, and their weapons, had been replicated by Tendrando, thanks to the cloning and biot manufacturing technology acquired from the destroyed G.E.T base in the Chiloon Rift.
As if being a straight Yuuzhon Clone wasn't bad enough, Tendrando had brought the horror, to a whole other level, giving it a Laminanium skeleton, forearm mounted blasters, and cortosis infused armour.
Since Malgus was the person they had been imprinted to, in the final hours of development, they were capable of following only his orders.
It only took a few moments of careful observation to determine the biot's true target. The Jedi.
Lando nearly collapsed at the sight of the Living breathing droids, his company had manufactured. Although he had spent the last 6 months under the influence of Malgus, he still retained clear memories of that time period. Memories of bad decisions that would haunt him the rest of his life.
"What have I done?" He asked; hypnotized by the horror of the situation.
Han knelt down so he was level with Lando and then replied;
"You stepped in the poodoo pal. Big time!"
Then, he reached down to Lando's holster, pulling out the man's blaster and handing it to him.
"Now it's time to clean up that mess of yours." Han said with his trademark crooked grin.
At that moment, Lando's shame morphed into focus. In turn, his focus blossomed into hardened resolve! He WAS going to clean up this mess, no matter the cost.
"Aim for the head, Han." He said, with his own trademark swagger, while raising his blaster and squeezing the trigger.
Ben, Vestara, and Jaina, didn't wait for Biots to make their way to Luke. They lept forward with force enhanced leaps to cut the enemy off from their advance. Ben and Vestara were completely ignorant when it came to fighting "The Vong", but they followed Jaina's lead, and after a few moments, they were engaged in combat with several Biots at once.
This left left Raynar, Tahiri, Leia, Han and Lando, to guard Luke, who was focused on his battle meditation and building up his energy for the inevitable confrontation with Malgus. In fact, he could sense Malgus; had sensed him ever since the transports had touched down.He was somewhere close, biding his time; waiting for something.
"What is he waiting for?" Luke asked himself silently, as the first slivers of doubt began to creep in.
"Do not underestimate the powers of the Emperor!" Luke had been soberly admonished by Yoda decades earlier. Even with that piece of advice fresh in his mind, he promptly proceeded to do just that: Underestimate his foe. Through the many years and countless battle since then, he had kept that principle foremost in his mind. Still, there were a number of occasions were he had fallen victim to underestimation. He had to assume that Malgus had an edge.
Whatever the case, he took solace in his belief that, at the very least, Dena was far and away from any danger. He knew that Malgus would have surely used his love for her, to destroy himself and everyone he had ever cared about...
Location: In the swamplands bordering The Great Grass Plains, on the planet Naboo.
The emergency top hatch of the Majestic Fortune, flew open with explosive force. The access tunnel that the hatch had covered, now bellowed out smoke. Slowly, a figure, emerged from the tunnel. A disheveled and disoriented Dena Yus.
The Majestic Fortune, along with the Jedi Shuttle had crash landed in the swamps, about 2 kilometres away from the raging battle.
Captain Maverick had decided stay with the ship and effect repairs, and C3P0 had eagerly offered to stay and assist.
With a sloshy "thud", she landed on the ground, where Master Tehkli and 4 other Jedi where already waiting for her. Without a word, the group briskly headed toward the distant sound of conflict.