IN THE SHADOW OF THE MANDALORE
Chapter Four (Second segment)
Ver’dika, the Mandalorian Sith
iii
Dax sensed the Dark side almost as soon as his feet touched the ground. He felt it like a cold hand on his shoulder, and for a moment thought of looking behind him. He caught Kashiefi’s eyes and they both paused as they considered the possibility of walking into a trap. The Mandalorian’s ship hovered three meters above the ground and Dax threw out a Force Wave, sending the ship into a mass of crumbled durocrete and transparisteel beams, impaling it. The ship let out a groan as its engines whined down, sounding like a wounded beast.
“At least we know they won’t be getting away.”
“If he’s Mandalorian, he’ll have a back-up plan,” Kashiefi said. “If he’s any good, we’ll be hard pressed with the two of us. If the other one’s a Sith...” She let the thought hang in the air between them.
Master Voss will have walked right into it, Dax thought.
“We have to hurry,” Kashiefi said, and she sprinted over the fallen debris toward Archangel.
“Did you feel it too?” he asked. “There’s something in the Force. It’s not just a disturbance. And it’s not Master Voss.”
“It’s the Sith I sensed earlier. He’s not powerful, but he’s strong enough to do all this,” she said, looking at the carnage of twisted metal and fire.
“A Dark Lord?”
She shook her head. “No. An apprentice. I’m guessing he’s here to do his Master’s bidding, whatever that might be.”
“And the Mandalorian?”
“We’ll have to keep an eye out for him.”
“What do they want with my father?”
“A good question.”
iv
Jedi Master, Keegan Voss
Fitt watched as a Trianii Jedi stepped around the corner. He sucked in his breath at the unexpected sight of the creature with its long tapering snout and stylized re-breather. He knew he should have felt some sense of relief, for a moment even thinking perhaps he was the one who’d saved them—anything was possible. Common sense told him just because there was a Mandalorian craft out there didn’t mean it belonged to a Neo-Crusader.
He would’ve felt more comfortable if the Jedi was human, rather than as near to human as possible—that meaning he was bipedal. But the Galaxy was full of sentient beings, and as difficult as it was for men like him to accept them for what they thought themselves to be— intelligent life forms—he knew he should be grateful all the same.
Captain Jer’glo was talking to the Jedi as Fitt approached them. A Chiss, Jer’glo’s blue skin seemed to glow in the soft light as the approaching dawn soaked in through Archangel’s open ramp. Looking at Jer’glo and the Jedi standing together, Fitt realized he could never fully accept all the different species the Galaxy had to offer. It was a simple fact. He was lightyears away from the Core Worlds where Human life was the dominant species and every other sentient being was consider a lesser class being.
It was difficult for men like Fitt to call any non-human a citizen. He was a man comfortable within the confines of his small world—his own universe as he liked to call it. It had taken him years to learn how to withhold his disdain for others—like his daughters-in-law.
“Jer’glo?” he said walking toward them. He tried sounding grateful, but knew that was asking too much of himself.
“Happy to see you made it, sir,” the Chiss said with a tight smile. Fitt didn’t believe him for a moment. His dark red eyes would never betray his true feelings, but Fitt knew the Chiss thought themselves superior to all lifeforms.
“I’m sure you are,” Fitt said with a dismissive tone. He looked at the Jedi.
“Jedi Master Keegan Voss,” Captain Jer’glo said, by way of introduction.
“Then I suppose it’s you we have to thank?” Fitt said, forcing a polite smile.
“As I was telling your Captain here, we were on the other side of the planet fighting drones—”
“Drones?”
“Yes. They were somehow activated when word reached us that your ship was going down.”
“And who would have done that? Or should I ask, how would they have done that? Those drones have been inactive for a millennium.”
“I was hoping you might have an idea?”
“Me? Why do you think I’d know?”
“Then you didn’t come in on the other ship?” Semolina asked, her confidence obviously waning.
“The Mandalorian craft? I’m afraid not.”
“Mandalorian? Yes, Captain Jer’glo said something about there being an old relic out there. But if that be the case, then where’s the Mandalorian?” Fitt asked.
They looked up as the turbo-lift doors at the end of the corridor blew open, as if on cue, and an armour-clad figure stepped out of the wreckage.
“I think he’s more than just a Mandalorian,” Captain Jer’glo said with a nod toward the end of the corridor. “That’s a Sith blade,” he added, looking at the lightsaber as the man activated it.
“A Sith? Are you sure?” Semolina asked, watching as the figure approached.
“Very.”
“Let me take care of this,” Voss said, engaging his lightsaber.
“Go right ahead,” Captain Jer’glo smiled.
Voss blew open the loading ramp with a surge of Force energy, and the morning light came flowing in through a visceral fog of steam and smoke silhouetting the twisted wreckage of the buildings around them.
v
“We’d be fools to stay here any longer than we have to,” Fitt said, gripping Semolina by the arm and heading toward Archangel’s loading ramp.
“We can’t just leave him. He might need our help,” Semolina protested.
“Help? We’re no help to him. There’s nothing we can do for him, except get out of the way while we can.”
“He’s right,” Jer’glo said, making his way toward the ramp.
The ramp slammed shut with a deafening echo.
“I’d like a word with you before you go, Fitt,” the Madalorian said through the filters of his helmet. “After I tend to this Jedi scum first.”
Voss assumed a Makashi stance as Verd’ika broke into a Force Run, slashing his lightsaber at the air as he leaped over the Jedi’s head and stabbed down at him.
“Atura,” Voss said with a nod after fighting off his attacker’s opening moves. “Impressive.”
“I didn’t come here to impress you, Jedi; I intend to kill you.”
“It’ll take more than running and jumping about for you to do that,” Voss said, catching Verd’ika off-guard and Force Throwing him against a bulkhead with enough force to break bones. Verd’ika was able to save himself by cushioning the Throw, and quickly countered by tearing at the ship’s piping overhead.
Steam hissed out of the overhead pipes and Voss created a small cocoon around himself before turning to face his attacker once more. Verd’ika came at him again, slicing low after feinting high, following it with a leg sweep that would have brought the Trianii down except for his strong, prehensile tail.
Voss turned at the same instant and brought his tail around with the strength of a kick. Verd’ika stumbled back and would have crumbled to his knees but for the beskar plating of his Mandalorian armour; he’d felt the power of the blow all the same.
He sensed Voss coming in for the killing blow and threw out his leg, catching the Jedi full in the chest and knocking him off balance. Quick to regain his balance, Verd’ika leaped up with a Force Jump and landed behind Voss, lost in the fog of steam. At the same moment, he leaped again, jumping over the Jedi and slashing down as he anticipated the Jedi turning. As he sliced, he heard Voss scream out, and saw the Trianii’s left ear fall to the floor. Feeding off the Trianii’s pain, Verd’ika knew it was the only chance he’d have.
Landing behind him again, Verd’ika drove his lightsaber into Voss’s back, watching him fall to the floor in a slump. He withdrew his lightsaber and with a quick spin decapitated him, kicking the corpse to the floor and looking at the crowd of onlookers huddled near the ramp.
He stood over the body, feeling the life drain out of it. He could feel the Force dissolving into the air around him, and he reached out for it, touching it with his Darkness and tainting it before it melted and thawed around him.
He thought it strange how he could still sense it even with the Jedi dead, but dismissed it as he turned to face the grouped survivors.
“And now, Fitt,” he said, striding toward them. “I’d like to have a word with you.”
