A/N: WARNING. THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MULTIPLE INSTANCES OF BLOOD, GORE, AND VIOLENCE.
She was sure she never wanted this moment to end.
For one brief speck in time, she could forget about the war, about her struggle, about everything else but the man in front of her and what the future held for them.
Ever since she had confessed her feelings to Ezra, she had mulled on what to name their children, if they ever got that far. So far, she had settled on 'Mira' if their firstborn was a girl, though she didn't quite know what to name the child if it was a boy. They would have time, she thought. Besides, judging by her lover's reaction, he was more than joyed by the prospect… evident by the way their tongues explored each other's mouths in the here and now.
But she couldn't ignore that music if she wanted to, forming a small pit in her gut.
Suddenly, a clinking sound brought the room to silence, and the band ceased it's playing of that strange music. Everyone began to sit back down in their seats. As Sabine moved to do so as well, Ezra grabbed her arm and shook his head.
She understood him without speaking. He felt something was off, way off. She snapped out of her previous stupor and started to reapply her situational awareness. The Exoristoi she knew she could trust, but something about those private guards Ignatius had hired had her on edge.
Thank the manda that they decided not to drink.
Soon, they spotted the source of where the chiming was coming from. There Moreena stood at the head table, tapping on her wine glass with a fork. As the room settled down, she set down her fork and raised her glass.
"My lords and ladies," she greeted, her voice sweet and light. "This has been quite the night. Our Prince is wed to a beautiful maid. May their lives bring them nothing but happiness!" she proclaimed.
"Aye!" the crowd responded back, raising their glasses and drinking deeply.
"To our king," she proclaimed, "may he reign longer still!"
"Aye!" again was the reply.
"And to my best friend, our princess, Irene," she said, a bit more quietly, "I thank you for your friendship. You, out of everyone, took me in when no one else did. For that, you have my gratitude," she addressed Irene, who started to silently shed tears of joy.
Sabine frowned. From where she stood, it sounded like she was saying "goodbye".
She looked around. She did not notice Vader anywhere, now. Her hand strayed closer to her blaster on her thigh. He might have been heading back to his chamber to meditate, but since when did Sith spit like him not do something on the sly?
Come to think of it, she did not see that young Hutt around, either. What was his name, Rotta?
Moreena then turned back to the crowd, her smile suddenly fading. "You must forgive us, though, my lords and ladies. This feast was not meant just for our prince, here, but for all of you. However, I feel like we haven't done enough. I feel that such fine people as you deserve more."
At that moment, all hell broke loose.
First, the private security guard nearest them drew an unseen dagger, and with it, slashed Chancellor Patricia across the throat, her bright red blood splattering all over her food and her cloak, as she collapsed face-first into her meal, gurgling blood all the while.
Ezra drew his saber, the blade crackling to life, it's hue the color of fire. Sabine reacted likewise and drew her two blasters from where she had them concealed on her thighs, and not a moment too soon.
All around them, men and women began to fight. They were struggling…
They were dying.
The band in the alcove above the high table had exchanged their instruments for weapons- crossbows with bone-tipped bolts, in this case, taking aim and firing at what few councilors and nobles who had not been stabbed or slashed by the thugs disguised as guards, as they tried to escape over pools of their own blood and bile, which became mixed with the wine and champagne being spilled all over the landing, the half-eaten meals becoming their grave.
Sabine took aim and fired at one of the "private" guards who was sneaking up behind Lord Commander Vistula, the blaster bolt impacting the thug's head and causing it to nearly explode in a fountain of burning flesh and bone.
Erik turned back for a moment and looked at Sabine, his eyes betraying his shock…and newfound respect.
Sabine indicated to the turned over high table, hiding the king and his family. "Lord Commander!" she shouted, "over there!"
Erik nodded at her. "Exoristoi, on me! Protect your king!" he commanded. Soon enough, what surviving royal guard there were formed upon Erik, and together fought their way through the thugs massacring the nobles. Numerous though they may have been, the thugs were no match for Mandalorian skill and discipline, as one by one they were cut down until Erik and his fellow custodians reached the table.
When they had reached it, Erik took a quick peek behind it, while his men provided cover fire, blasting the "band" out of the alcove above and onto the ground below, their bodies full of smoking holes. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he nodded to Sabine and Ezra.
"Wren, Bridger!" he shouted, forgetting to use their code names, "The King and his family are safe for the moment! We need to exfil out of here, now!"
"Wouldn't have guessed!" was Ezra's terse reply, as he cut down another thug rushing at him with a dagger.
As soon as that man had collapsed dead on the ground, Ezra turned and ran to the nearest exit, using his Force powers to push open the locked door into the outside air.
"Come on!" he shouted, all the while defending himself from yet another thug.
Sabine ran up behind him, tearing off part of her dress above the knees in order to move more quickly, while just behind her, Erik, the Exoristoi, and the royal family followed in tandem, managing to keep pace with them.
And it was a good thing too.
All around them, the city was erupting in chaos. Putting in her commlink, Sabine could hear the frantic radio calls for backup on all frequencies, indicating that many police units had been pinned down by some hostile force, which was reinforced by the echoes of blaster fire, explosions, and the wailing of the wounded.
Sabine grimaced. Ramsay was even more clever than she had given him credit for, and far dastardlier, as well.
"We have to get to the palace," Erik stated, once they were some distance away from the reception hall in an alleyway. "It's the only place where we can guarantee the royal family's safety."
Sabine peeked around the corner, checking to see if anyone had followed them. "That's a good two clicks away from where we are right now, Lord Commander, and something is interfering with my long-range communications. Whoever thought this massacre up did a lot of planning."
"Yeah, and something tells me that this is only just starting," Ezra grimly finished. "Gonna take a wild guess, here, but my gut tells me that the Empire is behind this."
"Wouldn't put it past them, at least," Sabine agreed. "It would explain why Vader chose to make his exit at the start. Probably dragged the Hutt along with him."
"Which means that the Empire and the Hutts are in this together," Alexios growled. "All this time we spent defending those slugs, and this is their repayment for our loyalty."
"We don't know that…" Ignatius tried to reason, only to be cut off by his angry nephew.
"What more proof do you need, uncle?" he exasperated. "Tensions have been increasing with the Hutts, Lund reports to us that the Empire has been building up their forces near Vandor for some kind of operation, and now we know that the woman we had trusted as a friend of the family and a loyal servant has been working with our enemies this whole time!"
Sabine looked back to check on Irene, and what she saw saddened her.
The normally lively princess looked…empty.
She shook her head. Of course, she had just been betrayed by her closest friend…perhaps even her lover and Sabine knew as well as anyone just how deeply betrayal by someone close to you could hurt.
The reasons Moreena betrayed them, she figured, did not matter in the slightest now. All they needed to focus on was keeping alive and reaching the palace. It was after the dust had settled and the bodies collected that the questioning and self-doubt could begin.
She knew all too well how crippling and deadly doubting yourself could be.
She nodded to the others. "Coast looks clear. No signs of Ramsay's thugs or Vader following us. If we keep following the alleyways and back routes undercover, we should be in the palace in less than a half-hour if we hoof it."
She looked to see the king and the others nod at her. "Then let us not waste time, my friend," the king commanded, though Sabine swore she spotted a sort of resignation in his eyes. "Lord Commander, lead us to the palace."
Erik nodded at his liege and signaled his men to form up. "Alright. Exoristoi, on me. We'll take point. Bridger, Wren, stick close with the king and his family!"
Everyone nodded in agreement, and together they moved out, covering one another as they moved from alleyway to alleyway and across the streets.
So far, progress was going smoothly. They weren't being followed or tracked by any of Ramsay's men, and they hadn't run into Vader or one of his Inquisitors…
So why did Sabine feel that something was going to go horribly wrong in the next few minutes?
They turned into the next alley, getting within a kilometer of the palace. It was then it seemed their luck was about to go to complete sheb.
The alley ended in a dead-end, with stacks of debris blocking the way out…and that wasn't the worst of it.
"Your Grace, I'm detecting twelve foot-mobiles heading towards our location, eleven at running speed, one at walking speed. Don't know how they were tracking us, but they've followed us."
She tuned out the rest of the conversation between Erik and Lysandus and focused on Ezra. Her boyfriend turned his head towards her, and nodded in a grim, serious fashion, as everyone readied their weapons. He knew. They both did.
She did not need to hear the breathing to figure out who was coming.
KROOOOO. KRAAAAAA.
KROOOO. KRAAAAAA.
KROOO. KRAAAAAA.
Facing where they had just come from, they saw at least a dozen or so thugs come at them… except something was different about these thugs. They moved in unison, kept their spacing, and in general didn't seem to be acting like a bunch of fools given guns for the first time.
Haar'chak! These weren't thugs, these were disguised Imperial stormtroopers! That was bad enough, but what came in right behind these incognito Imps was something worse.
Far worse.
In behind them strode the black-armored terror which had haunted her lover's nights and who had caused the galaxy immeasurable suffering, the one who had come here on a gesture of "goodwill" …
She cursed internally. Fierfek, this was bad. None of them could even remotely stand against Darth Vader, and she didn't have the protection of her beskar like she did the last time, as it was locked away in their room in the palace. The only hope any of them had was to attempt to escape over the debris.
"Mo?" asked the very timid voice of Irene. Sabine looked at the platoon of Imps, and she found a very nervous and afraid Moreena, standing next to Vader.
"Irene…" she began, with all the uncertainty of a child with their hand caught in a sweet jar.
"Why?" was all Irene asked.
"I found out my grandmother was alive," Moreena began. "Held prisoner by the ISB. They promised me her safety in return for feeding them secrets and organizing this coup. I had no choice."
Ezra shook his head. "Moreena, you always have a choice…" he lectured, "and you're a fool if you believe you can trust the Empire."
"Agent Krai," Vader cut off, "Do not believe this Jedi whelp. Your grandmother's well-being is assured, now. You have done well in delivering us the royal bloodline and will be well rewarded by the Emperor."
"The Sith always go back on their deals, Moreena," Ezra called out again. "Your grandmother is already dead, most likely. You sacrificed your friends-,"
"Stop it!" Moreena yelled, feebly.
"-your family, for nothing," he continued, shaking his head, "but you'll find that out soon enough. He will see to it, I'm sure," he lectured, pointing towards Vader with his lightsaber.
"Ezra Bridger," Vader turned towards him. "I might have guessed. You are no less arrogant than when I last saw you. Your disguise is admirable but futile. As is your protection of Arcadia's king."
"Lord Vader," the king finally called out. "That is enough."
"King Lysandus," Vader called back. "Your wits have slowed, old man, as have your reflex. Twenty years ago, you would have guessed our plot and would have executed the traitor, but age and compassion have weakened you. You no longer carry the strength to rule this world."
"Maybe not," the king agreed, "but unlike you, I never sold my soul to a madman. I am the servant of no man, only the Force. Can you say the same, my lord?"
"No, but then again, these things are always temporary," Vader retorted, and before anyone could do anything, Vader grabbed Lysandus with the Force, pulled him over towards him, and, in the blink of an eye, activated his lightsaber and shoved it through the old man's chest. "The Emperor sends his regards," he sneered, as he shoved the dying king off his blade.
"DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDDD!" Irene screamed.
"Exoristoi! Kill this darjetti scum! Avenge your king!" Erik shouted, and the royal guard began to cut down the stormtroopers with their blasters and their swords, felling them one by one.
But they were no match for a Dark Lord of the Sith.
All their shots, Vader blocked effortlessly.
All their blows, he parried without trouble.
Mandalorians were strong, tough, fighters par excellence, and yet as Sabine knew all too well, they stood little chance against one such as Vader.
The first Exorsitoi Vader reached he grabbed and slammed on the ground, breaking the poor man's neck. The second tried to slice him with his vibroblade. Vader just sidestepped it and took off his head at the shoulders with his lightsaber, never breaking pace as he tried to reach them.
Erik turned to Sabine, his face full of concern, anger, and resolve. "Wren, go, now! Protect the family! I'll stay behind and deal with this Sith scum. Just do me one thing…" he commanded, taking off his pendant and handing it to her. "Survive and lead our people well, ner vod. Give my son and your mother my regards," He turned back to Vader, now the only one standing, and readied his beskar'kad, the one he had carried since his days as a True Mandalorian. "Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur!" he shouted at Vader, his voice fading as Sabine and the others made their way over the wall of debris.
"Agreed," came Vader's monotone reply, and as Sabine, Ezra, and the remainder of the royal family made their way over the wall of debris and towards the palace, they could hear melee and a war cry, getting dimmer and dimmer as they ran, until finally falling silent.
"Ret'urcye mhi manda, aliit'alor," she whispered silently, offering a prayer for the fallen leader of the Exoristoi. She looked at the pendant in her palm- a mythosaur skull carved out of the tusk of some fearsome beast native to Sizwa.
She closed her hand again, resolving not to give in to her swirl of emotions. She would not let this man down, nor any of her friends or family.
She just had to survive in the midterm.
After what seemed like another fifteen minutes or so, they finally reached the walls of the palace…
Where they were greeted by yet another figure in a black coat before the gates.
"Oh, you've got to be karking kidding me!" Ezra cursed.
The black-cloaked figure threw his hood and cape back, revealing the armor of one of the Inquisition. The Inquisitor in question was a human man, with salt-and-pepper hair, yellow-red eyes, and an irritating smirk that reminded her somewhat of her boyfriend- that is, if her lover were an evil, mass-murdering prick.
"I was wondering when you'd arrive, my new king," he mocked Alexios. "Shame about your father and the guards he took with him. Few can survive the wrath of my lord, after all, so I must commend you lot for at least that." He then turned to Ezra and Sabine. "And, if I'm not mistaken, you two are members of the infamous Specter cell. Ezra Bridger, padawan to Kanan Jarus, and Sabine Wren, the estranged daughter of Countess Ursa Wren. My, my, what a catch!"
"Glad to meet your acquaintance," Sabine dryly remarked. "Don't know who you are, though, hut'uun."
"How rude of me," the Inquisitor joked. "I must remedy that. I am Malleus, Grand Inquisitor of his Majesty's Inquisition." He unclipped his cloak, allowing it to fall onto the pavement. "Now, if you're wondering why you can't reach anyone in the palace or elsewhere, I'm afraid that's my doing. You see, we couldn't have any of you lot thwarting our plans, hence why we had dear sweet Moreena give us the access codes to your encrypted channels…and to your defense network," he stated, smirking at Alexios. "That's right, your grace. Your precious network of defense stations and orbital cannons is offline, and there's a surprise coming in from Vandor within…. six hours, I'd say, as you probably already know." He shrugged. "I must thank that psychotic cur, Ramsay. Even a mad dog has a few bright ideas, it seems. Oh, and before I forget, Lord Vader has granted me the honor of killing you, as he has been summoned now on Coruscant. Thanks to everything being down, he should slip through your net easy," he said, drawing that typical dual-bladed Inquisitorial lightsaber, activating both ends of it and adopting a fighting stance. "Now, friends, shall we dance?"
Ezra nodded at Sabine, and she immediately understood, backing away as he stepped forward and activated his own sword, his orange blade answering to Malleus' crimson one.
"Let's," was all he said, and the battle was joined.
A/N: Oh, boy, a lot of death and blood in this chapter.
Yeah, this was pretty much a plan of mine to move the plot forward. The Empire and the Hutts were always going to betray Arcadia, and though I debated on whether I wanted the entire group to fight Vader, I decided against it, as Vader is…well, Vader. Unless your name is Luke Skywalker, you simply aren't stopping him. You can only take the slim chance of survival by running away.
And yes, Moreena betrayed her adopted family, much like Theon did *hint hint* (Okay, no, I'm not going to have Ramsay torture, rape, and mutilate her. I'm mean, not a sick fucking incel. But she will come to learn that the Empire, and the Sith, in particular, are the wrong ones to place your trust in)
Can Robb, Theon, and Rau reach Ezra, Sabine, and what remains of the royal family in time? Will Alexios avenge his father's death? Will Irene learn to forgive her best friend? Will Arcadia survive an Imperial invasion? Want me to stop asking stupid fucking questions?
Well, …you'll have to wait until the next few chapters!
P.S. Played Fallen Order. It was very fun, and it's giving me a LOT of ideas for this story.
See ya!