Not original

717 FNM (21 BBY)

Month 3

Coruscant, Senate Building

Tanya Kryze

Long days of thankless work are the best kind of long days. Especially when I accomplish something that I consider to be major and important for the survival of my career, people, job, but most importantly, my career.

Today is the official announcement of the Council of Neutral Systems. I worked for the last two months to get this darn thing done, but it's finally finished. As a result, I need to deliver this directly to Palpatine himself. It shouldn't be that hard; he's been in favor of the CNS for some time. I had already sent a draft of the proposal to his office and given him a few days to have his subordinates go over the matter. He would no doubt have a list of changes and demands to make after I had made the 'official' presentation of the document to him. The CNS has already agreed on a number of elements that the organization is willing to compromise on ahead of time, so with some luck I would be able to get the CNS signed into law without needing to reconvene a meeting with the rest of the member systems.

The frustrating thing about all this is that it had taken the war breaking out on Garos IV to finally get this whole thing settled. You would think when Ryloth was invaded, that would have put a fire under people's feet to get the job done as soon as possible. But Ryloth is in the Outer Rim and barely connected to the Republic. It's so far out there that if someone asked where it was, some people would mistakenly point in the wrong direction, hell, a few of them might even point to Mandalore.

Startlingly few people had a good grasp of galactic geography, the mechanics of hyperlane travel or the concept of shadow mass. Such people simply lurched though life, content that if they did not know something it was clearly not all that important. The sort of lackadaisical mentality that, when allowed to fester, brought down empires.

Garos IV was almost in the same boat, except it's a rather populous world that has a large academy that helped produce some of the best scientists in the Outer Rim while being a very loyal world to the Republic. So loyal, in fact, that many of the worlds that are part of the now Council of Neutral Systems had signed on to the Refugee Relief Movement. This agreement would see that any planet that was invaded by Separatists could have their population take up refugee status on Garos IV.

This agreement had been signed before the invasion had even broken out, but since it hasn't been put into effect, it might as well not matter. Technically, the leader of Garos IV had been fairly on the ball by quickly realizing the situation and trying to set themselves up as a neutral world that could be left alone.

Mandalore had signed onto the agreement within the first week. I had overseen the signing, in fact, a rather unimportant event in my mind as it was just another step towards the Council of Neutral Systems. One of many thousands of meetings, signings and other-such groundwork for the CNS. Now, it is a little bit more important.

The same agreement that designated Garos IV as a safe haven and destination for refugees also stipulated that the other signatory members would become refugee havens of last resort. Now that Garos IV was occupied, this clause was suddenly put into effect; this technically bound Mandalore to take in refugees in Garos IV's place. While we'll do the best we could, we're always strapped for the ability to do so. Mandalore had enough trouble taking care of itself and was kind of depending on Garos IV for housing incoming refugees. Before, we may have been able to supply a little bit of extra food here or there when we have the chance. But now, that is out of the question.

It was hardly a problem finding the space to put refugees, Mandalorian space is flush with barely settled habitable planets. The problem is that there is barely any infrastructure to support them. Things like clean water, medical supplies, food, generators, transport, and shelter all cost money to establish and maintain. Mandalorian space is perfect for hardy settlers or wealthy refugees who could afford to buy equipment to support themselves in a safe region. But not for the people who had fled war with nothing but the clothes on their backs. That's not even to mention the fact that wealthy or capable refugees would flee to Mandalore simply as a stopover before moving onto a more wealthy system to rebuild their lives.

As confusing as it was, Mandalore was still developing. Mandalore was the largest poor polity in the known galaxy. A stark reminder that an abundance of territory and resources did not translate to wealth when one had a dysfunctional culture. But it was getting better. It is very likely that refugee villages, like those found in war torn Africa in my first life, will have to be made to house as many of the refugees that we could.

The Separatist occupation of Garos IV had spurred the rest of the potential Council of Neutral Systems to finally get their act together and sign the Mutual Defense Act. This would technically allow local defense forces to work together in the possibility that they are invaded by the CIS. In reality, it was more complex than that and would likely take several years for any sort of unified defensive capabilities to manifest, but on paper, the CNS now had a sizable collective armed forces and that's what mattered.

The CIS is currently the main threat to our sovereignty out there. Though I had pushed for the wording to be "any and all threats" simply because who knows what could happen. The Hutts could take advantage of this opportunity to try and expand their domain, picking off worlds that were on their border and part of the CNS.

Garos IV is also technically part of the Mandalore sector. Well, to be more exact, it was part of the overarching sectors that had cultural ties to the Mandalore sector. That sometimes gets sort of shoved into the Mandalore sector for representation. Garos IV had its own representation, of course, but now it really didn't matter what it had. It's now occupied by the CIS, and the Republic is probably thinking of trying to free it and ensure its neutrality is completely destroyed.

The only good outcome about the loss of Garos IV is that it accelerated the formation of the CNS for Mandalore. For me specifically, there is actually another side benefit. The CNS has immediately started to put money together to start purchasing armor and equipment. And well, Mandalore had quite the developed armor, ship, and blaster production lines ready to start cranking out orders. Mandalore's military industrial complexes are better than most and definitely have enough designs, expertise, and equipment to accommodate the CNS.

I imagine that the CNS will soon issue better equipment than what they have right now, rather quickly. Hopefully enough to just defend themselves and keep the CIS and any other faction from thinking about invading them. But if it did come down to an actual fight, well, weapon commonality for spare parts, armor maintenance and repair, ship construction, and that sort of thing, could be of large benefit in the long term.

Not to mention, once they have those designs, well, they would need someone to maintain those designs. I'm sure there are some who would come up with ways to do it themselves, but a repeat customer is a good customer. And I would imagine that there'd be some repeat customers throughout the war, if not all the way out of the war.

X4 is designed to handle that sort of thing, so I leave that to him. Although I am paying aldo some attention to goings-on at Mandal Hypernautics.

There are already attempts to try and replicate the technology recovered from the war droid's memory, though I am a bit concerned about what it could bring. My research into this particular situation had me a bit worried, since technically the Basilisk is a war droid. And Mandalore is not allowed to make any battle droids, the Mandalorian detractors that Sheev told me about would use that fact as ammunition against us.

However, this particular design of "war droid" is piloted, and once a war droid had the ability to basically be a mech, the situation got a little bit fuzzier and in a gray area. Frankly, it seems to me if we mark the Basilisk as a fighter or some sort of land assault craft, it's no longer under the auspices of a war droid.

And if it no longer fell under the auspices of a war droid, then could it be sold on the open market? I had resisted the urge to suggest the name 'Gundam' to X4. Barely.

That is a question that bugged me because there is a potentially large market out there that would be interested in such a vehicle, especially with a war going on. A craft that could fight by your side when you jump out of it, or at least had a bit of intelligence that could sense things before you do and react.

It's a potential money maker. The question is, should I openly sell it or only have it available to members of the CNS? That is a harder question. If it is put out on the open market, much more money could be made. But it would easily be bought by the other side and be reverse engineered to find ways to screw with it.

For now, I had simply let Mandal Hypernautics figure out how to efficiently reproduce a couple of them. Once we know it's possible to mass produce them, maybe I would look deeper into the possibility of selling them to the Mandalorian Self-Defense Force. I'm sure they would sell like panna cakes, at least in the sector, just based on the cultural significance of the Basilisk War Droid alone.

There's also the possibility that this might also affect the light tanks that are currently in production. The Predator family of tanks that Mandal Hypernautics is currently selling had been based on the Canderous Heavy Assault Tank but split into three more specialized vehicles. Currently, those vehicles are being sold to the Mandalorian Self-Defense Force on several planets and will be sold to CNS worlds soon enough. But there is research to see if implementing a Basilisk Droid brain into some of those tanks might be a worthwhile investment. After all, if all it took to prevent something from being considered a Droid is having a human operator, having the benefits of a Droid's speed and calculation capacity in a combat vehicle could potentially do a lot of damage.

Even if we go through with putting Basilisk brains in our tanks, X4 and I had some concerns about the Basilisk's persona cores themselves though. They are based on an entirely different branch of droid design, one that had been long abandoned, learning algorithms. A newly created Basilisk war droid mind, while more than able to do battle from the moment of 'birth', is genuinely closer to that of an animal than a person. It requires time and experience for them to become as capable and clever as Big Bear, and it's not a consistent thing either. Some would learn quickly and others very slowly. It's not surprising why the technology had been abandoned for the more predictable, fully pre-programmed droids commonly used in the galaxy today.

A newborn Basilisk mind inside a tank would be more than capable of using its newfound body to do a great deal of damage, understand friend from foe, and follow orders from riders it trusted or imprinted upon that it could understand. But it would struggle to communicate with its limited awareness of itself and the world around it.

I could think of few things as risky to deal with on the battlefield than a thinking tank with the mind of a dog trying to impress its master. It is, however, very Mandalorian.

Something I am not yet convinced is a good idea to implement is the Senate continuing to give more emergency powers to the Chancellor. But if the Senate decided to remove its checks and balances again, there isn't much I could do since I'm only a Representative. I am referring to the Reflex Amendment, the most recent legislation passed by the Senate. It amended the Republic's constitution to give the Chancellor direct control of the military, amongst other emergency powers. Meaning he could decide where and when the GAR fought, well, he and the Jedi, of course. The Senate would just vote on how to fund it, which I guess is good enough, though the power of the purse didn't seem to stop the creation of a Clone Army, now did it?

There was still a bit of a mystery about that. Who had funded it in the first place? I had tried to look into it once or twice, but the most I'd come up with is that it had been loans from the Banking Clans. Past that, well, the Banking Clans kept all that stuff secret. I'm sure the Jedi would come up with something sooner or later. Unless, of course, they were the ones responsible for the creation of the Clone army. Currently, they stated that a former Jedi Master who had died ten years ago had funded it. It's awfully convenient that Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas died over a decade ago as soon as he ordered the production of the Clone army.

If a Jedi paid someone money before immediately dying, I have to question if there wasn't something suspicious going on there. I had to assume that the Jedi thought the same. Hopefully, they will find something.

My thoughts were brought back into the present as the elevator finally came to a stop at Palpatine's office. The Senatorial Guards are standing on either side of the doorway as I walk in. I glanced into the closed atrium and main office, and the secretary waiting out front recognized me and welcomed me into her office to wait. "The Chancellor will see you for your appointment soon. He's finishing up a meeting with the representatives of COMPOR."

That raised an eyebrow, as I had heard of COMPOR once or twice. It's the Commission for the Protection of the Republic, an organization formed rather recently that seemed more like a lobbyist group than anything else. But they were trying to get the public to support the Republic through wartime propaganda to rally the populace against the CIS.

It seemed very '50s-esque, like the US's Red Scare propaganda program. If that is all they are, that might not be a problem, but they have money and backing behind them which gives their voices weight. I had to acknowledge that there's a good chance that the reason that the Reflex Amendment passed is because of their message. Primarily, that Supreme Chancellor Palpatine should be given as much executive power as possible for the Republic to win the war without bureaucracy to slow it down.

I did not know that they are in contact with Palpatine, but there must be some connection between them, which is a bit concerning. Getting power because the Senate voted for it is one thing, but getting power because he has an organization to convince senators to give you that power is another.

I nodded before taking a seat in one of the empty chairs outside the Chancellor's office. While I waited, I opened the datapad in my hands for some last minute memorization. Even if it is going to be dismissed and be revised further, I can't be making a mistake in front of the head of a galactic government.

After waiting for a moment, the doors opened and the secretary said, "You may go in now."

Nodding my head, I entered the office, seeing Palpatine behind his desk and one or two other officials in what looked like pseudo-military uniforms sitting around the room. It appeared they had been having some sort of conversation that was now over.

"Ah, young Representative Kryze, we were just talking about your exploits." Palpatine said with a cheery voice as he waved me in. I suppressed a frown, X4 was supposed to keep the war droid developments secret so I doubt he is talking about that. "I was just talking with these fine gentlemen about your role during the Geonosis event." I nodded in relief at my misunderstanding.

"It wasn't that big of an exploit, Chancellor. I just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Some would argue you were in the right place at the right time." Palpatine spoke up, drawing my eyes to a young man in the military uniform with tan skin.

"Those people never experienced the feeling of having your ship shot out from underneath you and crash landing."

The man nodded before saying, "Understandable that you would have that opinion, but I must say, having a figure like you there on the day does wonders for morale. The story of a young Representative from Mandalore fighting back against the dastardly Confederacy for the Republic is quite well-known amongst our organization. Your story is an excellent example to talk about what we want to fight for: a Republic that serves its own interest and does not subordinate itself to the monied interests of corporations nor the more insidious populations in the Outer Rim."

"Insidious populations?" I mused, the tone he took with that statement was somewhat concerning. Since Mandalorians are one of those often maligned Outer Rim cultures.

"The Geonosian people for example, are biologically predisposed to act against the interests of the good people of the Republic. There is no real way that individualistic minded people like us can live with a hive species." The man explained calmly, as I was careful to maintain a neutral expression. The various species in the Republic are vast and disparate and the sentiments expressed by this man would exclude quite a substantial amount of them.

"I understand that the CIS has a large number of different species supporting them, I think it would be unwise to conclude that they can be so easily categorized and dismissed. The Geonosians for example are individually talented and independently cognizant, even if they do choose to live in hive systems." I pointed out, I was starting to get an uncomfortable feeling about this man.

"Such empathetic and tolerant sentiments like that is something many species within the CIS would not return, I'm afraid. We cannot allow our kindness and morality to be used against us." He blinked and smiled. "Oh, where are my manners?" The man stood up and bowed, "I am Ishin-Il-Raz, Chief Spokesperson of the Preservation of the Republic. You know, if you ever feel like coming to one of our rallies, we would really enjoy hearing your take on what happened there on Geonosis. I'm sure many people are interested in the story, as we only get second or third-hand accounts. Most of them seem rather fanciful, such as a story that you had stunned the leader of the Trade Federation."

He chuckled at that before continuing, "Not to mention, a large contingent of our people are somewhat enamored with the technology coming out of the Mandalore sector. The vambrace system is quite useful. It allows our people to stay in communication and organize things quite better than some of the more modern systems we could have acquired from local tech companies."

I smiled and even did a curtsy. "Nice to meet you, Ishin-Il-Raz. I don't know if I could go to one of your rallies anytime soon. I have a fairly packed schedule for the foreseeable future, but I'll keep that in mind. It is good to hear that our technology is finding customers here on Coruscant." I would have to play it safe around this character and their staff, just in case they tried to use anything I say to try and support their movement. "While it's quite enjoyable speaking with you, Ishin-Il-Raz. I'm here to speak with Chancellor Palpatine for an important announcement." I shifted closer to the Chancellor's desk for emphasis. Palpatine nodded to Ishin who stood and offered a polite bow himself before he and the other gentleman departed from the office.

When Ishin had left I put the datapad in front of the Chancellor and slipped into a rehearsed script, "I, Tanya Kryze of Mandalore, hereby present the official announcement of the Council of Neutral systems to the rightful chancellor of the Galactic Republic."

"Bravo, my dear." Palpatine said as he clapped at the necessary pomp and ceremony before he took up the datapad, looking at it with undisguised interest. "How unfortunate that such a Council has to be formed. Hopefully, this will mark the first step on the long and arduous road to peace and security for the galaxy." Palpatine said soberly before checking though the datapad. "You assent that this is document NS-A7 without edits and revisions?"

"Of course. I, Tanya Kryze, assent that this is document NS-A7 without edits or revisions." I said following the standard script these sorts of signings required. Then I smiled and said, "That is the hope. At the very least, it should put a halt to any further invasions into CNS space, since that may force the CNS to take a side. With this many systems, it's not a line I think the CIS wants to push."

"Or the Republic." Palpatine said with a small smile and a nod before taking out a pen and quickly signing at the end of the datapad before handing it back. "I'll have the official recognition of the Council put out to the rest of the senators tonight, but this will do for your end." I blinked as Palpatine went entirely off script.

"You have no revisions for our declaration?" I asked slowly, confused.

"Everything appears to be in order so I don't think a revision is necessary." Palpatine said softly, leaning back with a calm, warm smile. "I think the proposal suits all of our interests perfectly as it is."

"Thank you, Chancellor." I said quickly as I took the datapad and started to move back towards the door. I had never anticipated the CNS getting absolutely everything it had demanded. I glanced back at Sheev, the man who had unexpectedly become the greatest ally to the CNS movement in a single stroke of the pen. I truly had no idea that his anti-war predilections are so strong. I could only hope that the rest of the Republic could see that the CNS is acting in the best interests of not only ourselves, but the entire Republic. Sheev, for his part, seems almost... amused?

I cast aside that thought and stepped out of the grand office of the Chancellor and made way to my own office to make the declaration of the CNS public.

Kro'eval System, Kom'rk-class Starfighter

Pre Vizsla

I reclined in the now-familiar commander's seat of the cramped Gauntlet starfighter cockpit, allowing myself a moment to relax after the flurry of activity of the last few weeks. Our squadron had been operating in the outskirts of Mandalorian space, within the contested region between the Republic and the CIS.

The Kom'rk-class "Gauntlet" that made up the bulk of Death Watch's void capabilities had been supplied by MandalMotors. Even if they invested less into Death Watch ever since Satine had seen reason, they had still honored my request for assets at a reduced cost. Taking ships from MSDF stockyards, even the ones we administered directly, is practically impossible with how tight a leash the MSDF kept on any and all equipment. Thankfully, MandalMotors's shipyards are far more receptive.

After we launched the latest batch of starfighters from their yard, we navigated them away from Mandalorian space, beyond the reach of the Republic. Out here, what is Mandalorian and what isn't became blurred. Ancient grudges, battlefields, and installations are rampant, and there are always small clans or materials to recover for Death Watch. Even if the majority of the space is occupied by non-Mandalorians.

Still, there are plenty of opportunities out here now that the war has gone into motion. Our focus had been on Garos IV. While there were barely any Mandalorians on that world, there are plenty of people who are displaced by war, with homes and lives destroyed by foreign invaders of no fault of their own. It was a simple matter of gathering the angry and dispossessed, and reforming them into a formation that is useful for Death Watch. They might never become actual Mandalorians, but they would serve Mandalore with glee after what they had suffered.

However our true prize is the war orphans. Children who had seen everything they knew destroyed. It's easy to simply pluck the confused foundlings from shanty camps and spirit them away to Death Watch aligned clans and encampments, where they would be safe and trained to become Mandalorians.

Of course, our operations within Separatist-occupied worlds had necessitated raids on CIS occupational forces and infrastructure now and then. It is for a good cause. We are merely taking care of people that the CIS could not support or care for. Medical and food supplies in occupied regions are scarce, and hundreds of children had died before we could get to them. It was undeniably risky, considering that the CIS are the ones supplying Death Watch with tanks and speeders, but considering that the shipments continued, I could only presume that my small indiscretions are tolerated by the Separatist command.

It's likely that Dooku and Merrik are keeping the CIS from making more of a fuss about my operations, but the pair of them have become rather insistent that I use my assets to engage in the planned operations of either attacking the Republic or launching an uprising in Mandalorian space. I had assured them that the attacks would happen soon...ish.

For the past week, I had scattered my fighter core across several systems, tracking the movement of a Republic Cruiser that had skipped in and out of the Mandalorian neutral zone without any regard for Satine's edict. The MSDF had logged the intrusions, but since the Cruiser was only passing through, there was no option to waylay the craft as it exited into contested space.

Death Watch officers within the MSDF had transmitted details of the ship and its heading to me. Our careful chase had led us to the little-known Kro'eval system. One of the worlds in the system had been earmarked by Dooku as off-limits to any of my raiders. I entered realspace close to a debris field that had been captured by the fifth planet from the star. It's a dry and cold world but is nevertheless covered in thick green bands of endless forests. Despite the habitable biosphere the world hosted, it only has a scant few logging settlements and little else.

My attention is instead focused on the orbit of the fourth planet of the system. I confessed to having little knowledge of the world, except that it hosted a few thousand Mandalorians and roughly a billion near-humans who were happy to trade with Mandalore for the most part. They are rather inoffensive people as far as I was concerned.

The world had been invaded by the CIS months ago a small defense fleet had been stationed here spitting fire at the Republic Cruiser we had been shadowing. This far out, my ship might as well be invisible. I sent out a sensor ping that would look unimportant to most eyes and waited for my forces to gather in this system.

Kro'eval System, Kom'rk-class Starfighter

Pre Vizsla

The battle is a protracted one. Both the Republic Cruiser and the four CIS frigates were firing at each other from a great distance, while wings of fighters fought for space between the forces.

"Eight hundred on the Jetiise." came the amused tone of my pilot. I glanced at her, along with Ursa Wren as she is my second in this operation.

"Why? The code on that Pubbie ship says Command, yet the idiots don't have any support." Ursa waved a hand dismissively. "I will spot you. Eight on the Banker fleet."

"It's a Battle-Cruiser," the pilot explained. "Pride of the Rep fleet, they poured a ton of credits into the monster. It's got twenty heavy turbolaser batteries, even more ion cannons, proton torpedo launchers, quad assault concussion missile launchers, fighter craft, gunships, landers, and the works. That ship has enough firepower to turn a planet to glass. Even better, the ID on that ship is the Maelstrom, the namesake and first of her class for the Maelstrom Battle-Cruiser line."

"And how do you know that?" Ursa asked.

"I saw it on the propaganda holo a week ago. They say that this is the Jetiise's answer to the Malevolence."

"So why is she out here all on her own?" I asked, nobody in particular. The women in the cockpit considered that for a moment, before the three of us fell into an uneasy silence. The battle continued as my forces snuck into the system, one after the other, using micro-thrusts to get into formation, so as not to ping any sensors on our prey.

Just as the last of my forces entered the system and fell into position, one of the Banking Clan frigates detonated as a squadron of Republic starfighters made a pass over the ship. The combat computer counted no more droid fighter resistance to the Republic.

"Formation, move in." I gave the order, and my pilot went to work. In the shadow of an irregularly shaped continent-sized rock, two dozen engines burst to life with enough force to overwhelm the inertial dampeners and nearly strangle the passengers of the Gauntlet starfighters before the thrusters are halted so the heat signatures of our drive plumes doesn't give us away, and over five hundred Mandalorians were sent hurtling towards the battle. The maneuver was performed perfectly by every pilot, and to any sensor, we were little more than specs of dust traveling across the system.

Nothing for them to worry about. Until it was too late.

"Battle on the surface is heating up. The Republic really wants this CIS facility badly." Ursa commented, looking at a screen just out of my line of sight. I am more focused on the war in the void. It's still going to take a while before we drift into range to begin our attack, and I hoped that this 'Battle-Cruiser' would still be in the perfect position for our attack.

The ship in question, the Maelstrom, is busy chasing down the remaining Banking Clan frigates. While the firepower of four had been enough to hold the ship back, it seems that three are insufficient. The trio are attempting to keep outside of brawling range for as long as they could, while the Republic captain pressed forwards with his advantage. Out of curiosity, I tapped into the few feeds of the ground forces that our slicers had managed to break into to reveal that the ground operation is a mess. The Republic had deployed the Maelstrom's entire complement of clones to take the expansive CIS facility. It's a colossally huge tower with six large docks arrayed around the structure. Large enough for a capital ship to be built in each dock.

The facility is also situated in the middle of a city with towers that reach up to touch the clouds. The droids and clones below are doing a fine enough job of turning the city to rubble in the desperate battle for the facility as locals attempt to flee the carnage suddenly thrust upon them.

"Got a hyperdrive spooling up." the pilot said, tapping at her instruments. "It's not the Maelstrom." I released a breath I didn't know I was holding before tapping at the data the slicers were feeding us.

"Looks like that CIS facility is a shipyard. Something is trying to escape. If that drive can handle spooling for a couple of minutes, then she will be gone the moment she hits high orbit."

Ursa frowned and tapped the screen before adding. "That can't... oh hell."

I was about to ask her to explain when there was a flash of light.

"Gods... they just..." There was a moment of utter disbelief. I could scarcely believe it myself as a plume of dust and poison was ejected into space from the armageddon below. So great was the explosion that I could see the cloud of debris from here.

"Record everything. I want all the footage we can get!" I ordered, sending a tight-band communication to the other fighters, despite the risk. I could hardly breathe through the horror and excitement that filled me.

At the epicenter of the Republic atomic strike, the ground split apart, and a hellish red crack consumed the city before spreading out across the surface of the doomed planet. I am fairly certain that the Republic does not have an atomic weapon capable of cracking a planet like that. If they did, they would have used it during the Excision. No, this is likely the result of a Separatist superweapon of some kind, they have a habit of making a new one every other week. While the Separatist might have placed the Tibanna barrel there, the Jetii was still the one to pull the trigger, so the blame still lies with the Jetii.

Cities thousands of kilometers away are soon consumed by the spreading firestorm and tectonic calamity. We could only watch as a green world is reduced to ash, and a billion lives are extinguished. Debris spitting out into space crippled the remaining CIS ships as low orbit became inundated with gravitational anomalies so fierce they could be seen with the naked eye.

"What did they do?" Ursa spoke softly, knowing exactly what she was looking at but desperate for there to be some mistake as a way for her to distance herself from stark reality.

I am also in shock that the Republic would have the will to kill a planet but I quickly return my focus to the present and think about how this event will benefit Death Watch. Ursa, in many ways, is soft, as are many in Death Watch. To see such senseless and wanton destruction would be distressing. I had to refocus the softer hearts of my forces if they were to be of any use to me. I reached for the controls of my console, and in a few taps, I am broadcasting to my entire force.

"There will be a change of plans." I began, carefully crafting every word to possess enough resolve for the weakest of my formation to anchor themselves around. A firm hand offered to stabilize their frayed emotions. "The Republic aruetii who believe themselves so righteous, so just, have committed an unthinkable atrocity. To murder innocent Mandalorian men, women, and children as well as murder a billion friends of Mandalore. To strip a world of all life! I proclaim that every sentient upon the warship Maelstrom a Demagolka!" Ursa stiffened at my side. To be found by Mandalorian law to be a Demagolka, a serial murderer, and abuser of children, was to be condemned to death by flaying even in Satine's more 'civilized' age.

"Our original intent is to cripple this warship and allow the CIS to deal the final blow, but the situation has changed. By our honor, we must seek justice for the lives taken before our very eyes." I didn't bring up the Republic's dishonorable destruction of their own forces, but I had plans for that as well. Silver Mandalorians might be swayed after seeing the Republic betray its own forces to hellfire and ruin.

"We must carry the cloak of the executioner for this horrific crime. We shall board this ship, we will hunt down every rat aboard, and we will make them pay! As is our pledge of eternal vigilance against the evils of this galaxy! Our endless duty as Death Watch!" The radio is filled with animalistic roars of approval. As if sent into a battle frenzy, the fighters around me ignited their drives and flung themselves at full speed towards the dazed Republic Battle-Cruiser, its sensors blinded by the dust kicked up into orbit.

I reclined as my pilot sent my own fighter into overdrive to catch up with the others. I felt a grin overcome my face. Any other day, five hundred Mandalorians attacking a warship of this size would be a rather pitiful example of suicide. But this ship did not have the fifteen thousand clone troopers on board to defend the ship and the crew.

They had vaporized all of their defenders in their efforts to destroy the CIS facility and their escaping vessel. What few fighters remained from the extended battle in orbit had been crippled by the ion pulse thundering through the orbital plane of the doomed world. The Republic had gift-wrapped one of the most powerful ships in their navy just for me.

It was a stunning sight I beheld when the Maelstrom pushed out of the poison dust of low orbit and into the void itself, directly into the path of my forces. Ash clinging to the body of the murderous ship as it departed its terrible hunting grounds.

"They see us!" the pilot cried out as the Maelstrom spat out a flurry of point defense battery fire in the general direction of my formation.

"Too late." I said, as indeed a moment later all of our Kom'rks launched their Ion Torpedoes. At such close range, the torpedoes barely have several seconds of flight before they impact. Immediately, the point defense slackens as their systems are overloaded, giving us a clear window to board it. We darted through the open hangar bay doors intended to accept the surviving ships from the atomic calamity.

I felt my stomach twist as the gravity generator of my Gauntlet Fighter fought against the gravity of the Battle-Cruiser for a moment before the Battle-Cruiser won out and my craft made a graceless landing, skidding across the hangar and doing a great deal of damage to my expensive craft.

Once it stopped, I immediately unclipped myself from my seat and stepped forward as the doors of the craft opened, and twenty Mandalorian warriors rushed into the Maelstrom, blasters alight.

"Shall we join them?" I asked Ursa and the pilot.

"Let's kill them all." Ursa said with deadly resolve.

Kro'eval System, "Maelstrom" Maelstrom-class Battle-Cruiser

Pre Vizsla

It was total pandemonium. Several of the Gauntlet fighters had crashed into refueling or rearming starfighters in the expansive hangar, while most managed to land without issue after stopping over an empty part of the hangar. I'll have to have those pilots that crashed undergo remedial training after this so they would not repeat it in future operations. Each of them were the veterans of dozens of battles and should not suffer such failures when those fighters are very expensive to replace, even with MandalMotors' discount. Scattered equipment and fires littered the hangar with dead crewmen scattered around in ungainly heaps.

Mandalorians quickly departed from their Gauntlet Fighter-Transports, each one containing roughly twenty souls. Like the Dauntless fighters of a forgotten age, they cast out over the deck, bringing carefully controlled death to the few terrified Republic survivors.

There's little time to form up and organize our operation, but that is hardly a problem. These are the greatest Mandalorian warriors in all of Death Watch, the most dedicated, talented, and experienced. Officers have already divied up assignments without a care for personal glory. Two hundred are directed towards the bridge, a hundred are directed to the engine room, and the rest are given various other tasks that were no less critical for the success of this impromptu operation. This is not our first boarding operation, but it is the first time we have done it to a ship this size.

Wounded are to remain in the hangar and keep it secured as well as see to the Mandalorians who had died on our entry. I did not take command of the operation as I have full confidence in the competence of my officers to do their jobs well. Instead, Ursa would oversee the operation while I would join the warriors destined for the bridge. It's the duty of the leader to fight from the front, after all.

All of this happened in moments, as the scared and confused screams of Republic deck hands still called out. Objectives are projected in the disparate and complicated software of ancient armor systems. I felt a hiss as my own armor considered the atmosphere unsuitable and sealed itself against the smoke and toxins. A moment later, my targeting systems identified a squad of Republic Clones entering the hangar at the far side, and I feel the sudden rush as a light battle adrenal is injected into my system.

I and hundreds of others thundered across the hangar. Several activated their jetpacks both to have clear lines of sight on their targets and to present a wall of mayhem to the scant Republic forces that the ship had left. Blaster fire filled the air before us as blue bolts, carefully calibrated to deal as much damage to droids as possible, were shrugged off by Mandalorian beskar. With overwhelming return fire, the squad was riddled with hundreds of deadly yellow bolts, and they crumpled without much fuss. Not long after, Mandalorian forces entered the ship proper.

Like a flood of death, we moved through the ship, gunning down anyone we found. Bulkheads and auxiliary ship systems were desperately fought over as our talented slicers fought against the Republic's own electronic warfare officers in an invisible war. Without Clone defenders, isolated crewmen ill-equipped and ill-suited for battle tried desperately to halt our advance. I stopped counting my kills after the first fifty, but a warship of this class must have required a crew in the thousands. The legendary efficiency of Mandalorian blasters are tested by the sheer amount of targets we had to contend with.

I was treated to the odd novelty of having to reload my own blaster rifle with a new Tibanna gas canister while in the throes of battle, something that I had never before needed to do in the field in all of my years of combat. This, I thought, must have been what the ancient Neo-Crusaders had to contend with. Innumerable enemies utterly unsuited to war.

It felt like a single breath, yet according to my mission clock, I had battled across the Maelstrom for more than an hour. There's a lull to the fighting, and it took me a moment to realize that the bulkhead before us is more secure than the rest. We are adjacent to the bridge itself.

"The circuit for this bulkhead is isolated from the rest of the network." a Mandalorian called out while tapping away at his vambrace, which was jacked into a data cable in the wall. "We need a det-charge or something. Can't slice this."

"Stand aside." I called out. Several helmets turned in my direction before moving out of my way. I reached for my hip and produced a handle, weighty despite its small size. I held it out, and a moment later, the Darksaber ignited. The blade seemed to pull light towards it, resulting in a fine pale glow surrounding the deepest, blackest darkness.

Without any ceremony, I plunged the blade into the bulkhead, steadying my grip with both hands. The blade passed through reinforced durasteel like a hot knife through bantha butter. Despite that, the magnetic containment sent shockwaves through my arm as the lightsaber contended with the sheer amount of molten material flowing over the force field.

I pushed, watching as the bulkhead began to glow cherry red around the blade as I slowly cut through the barrier to the Maelstrom bridge. Pools of melted durasteel pooled at the ground at my feet as I could feel the terrible heat through my armor.

It was hard work, but eventually, I had cut a rough rectangle large enough for two Mandalorians to move through at a time. I placed a thermal detonator to the bulkhead before darting to the side, ignoring how my muscles screamed in protest, and looked at the Mandalorian on the other side of the bulkhead. Everyone else is in position to the side, ready to breach. Using my left hand to count down, I wait until my last finger falls before triggering the detonator. As the shock wave washes over me, I feel a sense of satisfaction as the rectangle is blasted inwards, likely injuring any defenders that stood too close to the bulkhead.

Without waiting for the smoke to clear, the Mandalorian across from me threw flash grenades through the hole before charging into the breach as blaster fire rang out. I felt a rush of strength as my armor provided me with another adrenal for the final stretch, and darted through the hole with my fellow Mandalorians.

The bridge is expansive. We had entered a command room that opened out into a two-level room with dozens of command consoles, all overlooked by a fleet command throne. Tall, reinforced plasteel glass windows gave an incredible view of any battle the Maelstrom would contend with.

Bridge crew were situated behind consoles and chairs, firing blindly as the flash grenade did its job, turning them into targets as we pushed into the bridge. In the middle of the room, coordinating the defense, stood the indomitable form of a Jetii. His violet blade shifted about him in a dizzying pattern, turning away dozens of deadly yellow bolts. His shins, arms, and midsection are protected by white plastoid armor that blackened as blaster fire played over the armored plates, denoting a high concentration of chromium rather than the pristine Beskar plates of my own armor.

Over the form-fitting bodysuit and armor plates, he wears a brown robe that did not seem to restrict the Jetii's movement in the slightest. I watched as the man darted to the side to deflect a yellow bolt that found itself striking the neck of a Mandalorian at my side. She let out a confused gurgle before crumpling in place.

Without thinking, with the rage of a thousand generations, I rushed forward with my Darksaber ignited. As if acknowledging my challenge, the dark-haired Jetii advanced upon me with measured steps. Blaster fire seemed to part around us as we both approached.

"Mandalorian!" he roared, menace dripping from the Republic Sorcerer. "Your treachery is revealed. The galaxy will know that your neutrality is a lie!"

"So lost, you defeat yourself, and think it treachery! You are judged, murderer." I said, feeling the words more than thinking them, as if the Manda itself was speaking through me. "You die here, Jetii!" In an instant, we were locked in mortal combat. Our lightsabers clashed, the blades seemingly playing across each other with glee and parting with heavy resistance.

The battle around us is forgotten, the screams and sounds of blaster fire dimming from my mind as we took measure of each other. He probed my defenses before dashing forward to strike again and again with incredible speed and brutality. Each blow he exacted, I met with my own with incredible effort. As much as it galls me, I am forced to give ground to the Jedi's aggressive advance.

I felt a wave of clarity, the inexorable call of a battle trance, fall over me as I changed tactics and released my left hand from my Darksaber. With one hand, I now have the speed to parry his blows rather than to meet it head on, which managed to check his advance. Our blades called to each other, and in an instant, we both struck. The deadly plasma joined together, containment fields attracting and rejecting the other in equal measure, as he attacked and I deflected. In a contest of strength and determination, I will lose. The only option I have is to use his strength against him, make him overcommit to an attack, and strike while he is recovering.

The opportunity presented itself when he delivered a diagonal overhead swing. I quickly sidestepped to the left and pushed the saber as far away as I could as I used my free left hand to grab hold of his arm to lock it in place. Now that his saber is out of the way, I pressed forward and struck, smashing my helmet against his face before following up with kneeing his groin. I managed to land a second knee before I saw that he had freed his left hand before sending an open palm in my direction as he let out a roar of fury. His eyes glowed with power as bubbling blood ran down his lips and chin, granting him a crazed appearance. It is the last thing I see before he unleashed his magic, and I was thrown head over heels by impossible forces and crashed over a bridge console before landing on my back.

There was not a moment for me to gather my wits from the attack as the Jetii jumped above me, intending to plunge his lightsaber down upon me. I deactivated my Darksaber as I rolled to the side and dodged the stab, but the follow-up rising cut managed to strike my chest plate. Before he could send another attack, I extended my right arm and from my wrist came a jet of jellied flame that coated his form and elicited a scream of rage and pain. Using the distraction, I got back on my feet and used my free hand to grab a flash grenade from my belt. Just as I was about to throw it, an unseen force pushed me back into another console at the front of the bridge. Despite his flesh melting from the burning jelly, the Jedi rushed upon me still, faster and stronger than ever before.

I dropped the grenade near my feet and reignited the Darksaber. Our blades clashed as I did my best to hold the burning Jetii in place. My muscles scream in agony as the Jetii's blade inches closer and closer to my face that if it wasn't for the polarization of my helmet I would have to close my eyes which would be a death sentence in melee combat. Eventually, the flash grenade went off underneath us, causing him to flinch and shout in surprise. This momentary distraction allowed me to sidestep to the side and with a twist of the Darksaber, I cut off his arms before stabbing him in his stomach.

The power that had once filled the man seemed to dissipate. The dark magic that sustained him, perhaps an aspect of Arasuum himself, abandoning a broken toy. With the last of my strength, I twisted the Darksaber and bisected him.

The bridge is quiet. I glanced about to find the battle for the bridge is truly over, with Mandalorians watching me all around. A strange compulsion came over me, and I looked at the fallen Jetii, my body at its limit as I took deep breaths.

He is badly burned, horrific wounds covering his body as I turned him onto his back, but still, his eyes turned to me. As I crouched beside the dying sorcerer. Even bisected, the cauterized wounds keep him alive enough for him to answer my question.

"Why?" I asked, looking at a tired man at the end of his life.

"I... I had to, you don't... I saved billions, hundreds of billions."

"You murdered a planet." I countered.

"You don't understand, I saw... the superweapon, the Shadowblade. It had to be destroyed, no matter the cost. I saved them all..."

"I expected more from you, Darjetii. Instead of deeming every life precious you murdered millions because you deem it easier than the alternative. Your hubris caused the death of a planet. Die knowing that I am the consequence of your actions." With that said I drew my pistol and executed him with a shot to his head. His body stilled afterwards as this Demagolka passed to the afterlife, likely to be judged by others of his kind.

Kro'eval System, "Maelstrom" Maelstrom-class Battle-Cruiser

Pre Vizsla

Seated in the command throne of the Maelstrom, I could barely find the strength to tap at the controls to gather a clear picture of the current situation. The ship is ours, even if my Death Watch are still hunting down survivors throughout the colossal Battle Cruiser. We already have access to the life support system and have voided the entire vessel, which is not an issue for us as we all have void rated armor. This should wipe out any survivors that have not managed to get void gear, which would help make clearing the vessel easier.

The ship had taken damage during the battle and boarding operation but remained fully operational. However, it's unclear how long that would last. I briefly considered remaining in the system to attempt to evacuate any survivors from the planet, but considering the entire thing resembled a single hellish firestorm with deadly gravity eddies in the orbital band, I highly doubt there is anyone alive down there. The crippled CIS frigates that got caught in the blast are slowly being pulled by gravitational anomalies into the planet and are now re-entering the atmosphere, so they are a lost cause. A shame, having an extra frigate or two would be a useful trump card. Thus with nothing of value left in the system, I navigated the ship to a safe jump point, spooled up the Maelstrom's hyperdrive and set a course to a hidden outpost in an uninhabited Mandalorian system.

Keeping a ship this large hidden is a tall order, not only because of the physical requirements. There are trillions of asteroids in uninhabited Mandalorian systems that could house such a craft indefinitely. No, what would be difficult would be maintaining and crewing such a craft without the major factions finding it. The Maelstrom would require thousands of crewmen to operate, and while Death Watch had the capacity to accommodate the craft, the loyalties of such a crew would never be absolute.

The Battle-Cruiser is perhaps the most impressive scalp in the galaxy, but it's a scalp that could not be ignored. I would need to consider if keeping the ship is worth it in the long run. Even if Death Watch could not make use of it, perhaps Mandalore would require such a vessel in the future. There was much to consider.

At the very least, Count Dooku would stop leaning on me to attack the Republic now. We had played our part with interest; now that I thought about it, yes, a victory like this is grounds to demand more from that little arrangement. The CIS owed Death Watch for taking out an asset as powerful as the Maelstrom from the Republic's arsenal, and I would see to it that every drop of split Mandalorian blood would be compensated.

Unfortunately, with the footage being collected, my rebranding project had become a confounded mess. With our iconography clearly visible and my open proclamation of our duty as Death Watch, there is little appetite for any change at this point. There had been a malaise over my organization, one that was felt even in this group of loyalists and elites. A listlessness that had grown along with the influence of White Silver in Mandalorian space.

This operation, the capture of this warship, and the execution of a Jedi and his forces, had reinvigorated us. Rather than abandoning the name Death Watch, I would reform its spirit. A group dedicated to purging the galaxy of evil above all else, one that would not bring violence upon our fellow Mandalorian, but turn its gaze outwards to the many enemies of the Mandalorian people.

Who else had the power, the strength of character to slay evil Jedi and Sith but us? The rest of the galaxy is too weak and hapless. They needed Mandalore, they needed Death Watch.

"Just spaced the last of the dead." Ursa called out as she entered the bridge, stepping through the destroyed bulkhead. Apparently, my trick with the Darksaber had fused some internal mechanism, and the entire thing is stuck permanently until we could cut it apart and replace it entirely.

"Good, just the stragglers now." The ship's internal sensors were incredibly limited, and some of the surviving Republic Crew had started to damage the security systems while hiding in the miles upon miles of crawl spaces across the Maelstrom. It's likely that a few clones have managed to get some spare armor before the ship is voided.

"I am taking leave after this Op." Ursa said softly, looking at the technically minded Death Watch experts trying to repair the Bridge with, as far as I understood, very limited success.

"Reason?" I said, without the energy for much more. She looked at my slouched form before reaching a hand to her belly. I raised my eyebrow in surprise, not that she could see it under my helmet. "When did you find out?" I asked.

"A few hours ago. Waste cycle detected it."

"Ah, granted. I am going to be restricting active operations in the coming months anyway." She nodded and turned away from me. "Congratulations." I said, suddenly feeling awkward. Clan Wren is a close ally, even if they are more spirited and independent than most. With the heir of the clan growing within Ursa, now was the time to curry favor with them.

A hunting party had found the Jetti's quarters and had identified some interesting artifacts that are now mine by right of conquest. It's some good fortune that the Jetti I had slayed was a collector of sorts.

"Thank you." came the curt reply, before Ursa moved over to the sub command throne and began to pull out damaged and melted circuits.

I believe the Songsteel sword, recovered from the Jetti's possessions, engraved with the Wren clan motto and icon would be an excellent gift to the child on the day of their birth. I knew little of working metal, let alone Songsteel, but I'm sure the Vizsla Clan armorers would likely enjoy the challenge. A fine and rare artifact for the heir to carry, I am curious however why the Jetti had owned a legendary Jetti killing weapon. I would likely find more information by digging through his possessions, with reduced Death Watch activity I should have the time to do that in between my work as Concordia's governor and spending time with Paz.

As Ursa and the rest of Death Watch worked to secure the ship, I felt the adrenals I had used fade and sap my strength. As my heart rate calmed down, my mind gradually slows to the point that sleep overtook me.

Coruscant, Chancellor's Retreat

Darth Sidious

In a dark chamber lit only by a pair of blood-red sconces, I listened impatiently for news that I could already sense.

"The world is uninhabitable, my lord. The loss of the hyper-point destabilizer and its delivery vehicle has caused a thermal shift in the planet's atmosphere, and the tectonic instabilities have been... severe. Such forces might yet tear Kromus apart. We are continuing to monitor the world as you instructed, but it is increasingly dangerous to remain in orbit." A holoprojector with a spinning icon of the ancient Sith reported what I already felt through the Force.

"The Jedi?" I asked, knowing full well the answer.

"The Mandalorians slew him during the attack on the Maelstrom. We have absolute confirmation of that, my lord. They killed the crew too, ejected thousands of them into space via the airlocks after they took control of the ship." It was frustrating to say the least, that a Jedi I had spent so much time and effort carefully grooming to become a potential apprentice is killed by uninvited guests.

It took quite a bit of effort to present a situation wherein a Jedi would be willing and able to slay over a billion people, after all. What a waste of effort.

"Yes, yes... Remain until the last possible second, and then proceed to Count Dooku with your findings. The data might yet prove useful for other projects."

"Yes, my lord. We live to serve."

That elicited a wry chuckle as I terminated the transmission. "Of course, you do. For a while longer, at least."

The situation is so fairly aggravating. To think that Death Watch now possessed such a powerful Battle-Cruiser. Parties such as Death Watch were not fit to control such assets. It made the game far too unpredictable. Perhaps I had been too lenient on the Mandalorians and their CNS ploy. Collective actions against a bloc of troublesome systems requires them to be weak enough for my new Empire to dictate terms to the collective bloc. Now, the Mandalorians have revealed that their bark has some bite. This is something I could not allow to continue, even if I did enjoy the company of a particularly cunning representative.

Effort would have to be made to recover or destroy the ship. The Jedi themselves are, of course, an obvious candidate. This was, after all, a Mandalorian attack against a Republic asset and the killing of a Jedi Master. The Order could not ignore a Mandalorian killing Darrus Jeht. They would send Jedi to Mandalore to demand answers.

I should add some redundancy to my plans to curtail Death Watch. I carefully sifted through the data sent to me and slipped out of my slippers for more substantial shoes. A lovely young friend should visit our favorite coffee house soon, and I think she would be rather interested in an exclusive tip about the current situation.

For the good of Mandalore, of course.

I allowed myself a warm chuckle as I marched out of the dark room.