STAR WARS: The Old Republic: Shadows of War

1: Departure to Mandalore

Mandalore was a desolated planet. Why the Republic had taken an interest in the war-torn world of the Mandalorians was beyond Zadok, and the orders from upstairs were too vague to be of assistance: Discover the allegiances of the Duchess of Mandalore. He nearly scoffed. Sure, the security of the Republic was a priority, but was it really necessary to send two Jedi to play the role of detective?

Besides, Mandalore wasn't anything to look at. Its surface was completely barren, though occasionally the gunship would pass over a dome. His research told him they were cities. The glass angrily glared up at them from the ground.

He could feel his master's gaze on him, but he didn't acknowledge her. His master was well aware he was not a fan of being sent to this particular planet. She hadn't seemed to recognize his voiced concerns that they might be shot out of the sky, stranded in the desert. At least the pilot had assured him the likelihood of that occurring was low, and that Republic assistance would arrive before any Mandalorian could salvage the remains of the ship.

"Padawan, we will be all right," his master said. He glanced up at her, noting the amused reassurance in those glowing red eyes that marked her as Chiss. Giss'hew'dearo was her real name, but she'd insisted he call her Gissh.

Zadok's lips twisted to the side, showing his doubts. Her eyes searched his face, noting his features. She'd also told him of her infrared vision, and how reading people was as easy as checking the holonews. But she didn't say anything else regarding his worries.

The air was suffocatingly dry, unlike the humid atmosphere of his homeworld, Dathomir. Zadok turned his head as the gunship descended. A glass dome with an incomplete top loomed ever closer, however the ship aimed for the landing pad.

Gissh glided to his side as they touched down, her arms folded neatly in her sleeves. She was the epitome of tranquility, her features smoothed over, her indigo hair pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck.

Zadok was similarly positioned, however his hands were slick with sweat. Nerves caused his hearts to thunder in his chest. If they were going to be gunned down, now would be the perfect time to do it.

Zadok had done minimal research on the Duchess. There wasn't even any substance to files on her in the Jedi Archives. What he did know was limited, such as that she was young blood, she was adopted by veterans who fought against the Republic before the Mandalorian Excision, and she claimed to be part of the majority peaceful faction known as the New Mandalorians.

Gissh leaned over. "Please try to be polite," she said under her breath. "Best behavior. Remember what I told you?"

Zadok suppressed a sigh. "Yes, Master." Peace through diplomacy. Though it was hard to think about peace when he was on the homeworld of the galaxy's most violent civilization.

A human man, young in face and fairly short in stature, walked up to the pair of Jedi, a grin that unsettled Zadok resting on his face. The rest of the landing pad was sparsely populated, allowing what little life bustled on it to openly view the exchange between the Jedi and Mandalorian. Many of the men and women were glaring, but most seemed curious. Zadok guessed that was because he and his master were an odd pair: a Chiss and a Nightbrother.

"Hello, I am Prime Minister Rees Seacri," the man said. He wore a simple white tunic and tan trousers, both trimmed in gold. Zadok couldn't sense anything wrong with the man, or with the environment, but he stayed alert just in case. "Welcome to Mandalore."

"Thank you, Prime Minister," Gissh said with a small bow. Zadok mirrored her movement, his eyes drifting from the Prime Minister to survey his surroundings. "I am Jedi Knight Giss'hew'dearo, Gissh for short. This is my Padawan, Zadok Kevro."