Another Way: A Mandalorian Story

Mandokar

Mandokar - [MAN-doh-KAR] - the "right stuff"; the epitome of Mandalorian virtue - a blend of aggression, tenacity, loyalty, and a lust for life.

Summary: The Battle of Mandalore is here. Who will come out victorious?

She is the wife of the Mand'alor and the mother of the Mando'ade. In accordance with their marriage vows, she carries the same high honor and power as her husband. Though she is kindhearted and nurturing, she is the deadliest of the group, which earns her the highest respect.

-Unknown Mandalorian author

"You're the Imperial spy."

The man's lips curl into a vulgar sneer, revealing pointy, carnivorous teeth.

"Spirited little thing, aren't you?" he says in in the native language of Mimban.

"Why are you here?" you question, his language easily falling off your tongue, having worked with numerous Mimbanese mechanics and pilots. "Tell me!"

"The wife of the Mandalorian leader will fetch a pretty price from the Empire."

Stirred by his words, you raise your blaster, the cold gleam of the black metal targeting him directly. Fear turns to anger, causing your body temperature to spike, your eyes narrowing in a hatred that's as deadly as the weapon gripped firmly in your hand.

"Maybe you haven't heard, but the Empire was defeated," you say, your words laced with venom. "The war is over. The Emperor is dead. You're fighting for a lost cause."

"The Empire was destroyed only to be born again. The Emperor controls its every move from beyond the grave. It will rise again, and all its supporters will be rewarded for their loyalty."

"Loyalty?" you question. "So that's what you call betraying an entire nation of people."

"No. You have yourselves to thank for that. The information received from Nevarro will, no doubt, lead to the destruction of your people. All this could've been avoided had you just accepted the peace and prosperity the Empire can offer."

"Peace? This is chaos."

"Chaos proceeds great changes, and we are on the threshold of a new era. Perhaps if you wish to cooperate buy providing more information, you'll be rewarded as well. Perhaps it'll be less harsh punishment, but a reward nonetheless."

"Fuck you," you spit. "What have you told them? What do the Imperials know?"

The bright-red skin of his face twists into another evil sneer. He utters a word in Basic, spoken with a strange inflection. A single word, but enough to justify your reaction.

Everything.

As soon as the word escapes his lips, you squeeze the blaster's trigger, sending a yellow energy bolt screaming into the Mimbanese man's chest. It opens a smoking hole there, hurling his body into the back of the captain's seat before falling to the ground with a thump.

The scent of scorched skin pervades the air, putrid and rich, but it doesn't bother you, confirming that he's dead as you lower your blaster.

"Fuck."

[LINE BREAK]

From the cockpit window, you watch Greef stride across the field toward Slave II, his posture mostly rigid. His arms swing exaggeratedly, and occasionally he looks around to ensure he isn't being watched or followed. In that moment, it's clear that warning someone not to raise suspicion only causes them to act in ways that make them look suspicious.