We Always Survive

The True Battle

Strength. Honor. Loyalty. Death. The four things that make up a True Mandalorian. The things that would show how much you honor the true laws. No matter what, you stayed true to the laws. If there were two laws, the first one was dominant. The true children of Mandalore wouldn't be stopped or be separated by a disagreement. Those true would never betray or dishonor their holy ways.

Even the Death Watch broke apart courtesy of Pre Vizsla's death. Even he accepted his defeat at the hands of an outsider, an ally, a Sith Lord. Nevertheless, it kept it's promise. He helped them all regain control of the planet (it only works if you realize Maul meant the whole Death Watch will conquer the planet). This Zabrak did come out the stronger and wiser. Those who believed that this "Darth Maul" wasn't allowed to be the ruler, for those that believed that it was unconstitutional for the one who beat the Mandalorian fairly, they became the Night Owls. Enemies of them. For those who kept the law close to their hearts, they became subject to this creature who was just as strong, vicious, and merciless as the true children of Mandalore.

For Ajax Keldau of Clan Keldau, this was a dream come true. He was back on the soil that his ancestors fought on and for when the Mandalorian War broke in the Old Republic; his home and his heritage lay dormant here as well as the true Ajax, not some silly rebel.

Excuse me. "Rebel". He and the other Death Watch members were the true sons and daughters of the former warrior planet. Even Pre Vizsla of Clan Vizsla said it himself. The former rule-- no, that dead  duchess!!!-- believed that going around everywhere with a calm and non- violent demeanor (also know as non-Mando'a or non-Mando'ade) was a good thing; that using the sobriquet "New Mandalorians" was the best thing in the Galaxy!

They were not in need for a substitute; a distasteful, disgraceful mockery of a planet. Especially those that gloated of peace when they were once the most feared militia in the Galaxy.

"Di'kut's...!" Ajax muttered under his helmet that dawned the red and black markings of their leader. Keldau was maintaining his position at the entrance of the palace. He owned this job ever since he bowed before...

Him.

The Mando'a had experienced a few blood-chilling encounters with the new leader (Duke?) of Mandalore. He had beaten Pre Vizsla without even breaking a sweat, and executed him on the spot. It was simply a power move. Death wasn't exactly necessary; it just exerted his authority.

He did everything according to the Ancient Laws of Mandalore. He did everything to maintain the truce involving him and the true Mandalorians. If he didn't, things would go awry for him and whatever else he had planned for the planet.  Even though Maul was a Force-User, he couldn't take down a whole battalion of trained Mandalorian warriors! No one could! 

Right? After all, Maul took down the infamous Darth Sidious on his own. Ajax watched the confrontation occur after he was choked unconscious by the Force. His friend, unfortunately, wasn't so lucky.

Ajax recalled the crimson shards from the plasma dancing off in a tango where anyone could drop dead at any moment. The sheer power and anger flowed off the opponents in waves of furious blows. Then, the green Zabrak --the lesser of the two when it  came to status and the discipline in the mysterious Sith Arts-- was the first and only one who was disqualified from the deadly tango exposed under the Galaxy. The executor, two crimson sabers that pieced both his adrenaline-drowned hearts.

At first, Maul was devastated. He was in an usual and vurlnerable spot. Why didn't the strongest take his life instantly? Was he toying with his former appreciate? Was he confident that he would win? If so, he was wrong indeed. Even though the Zabrak seemed soft in the moment of a short mental memorial for his older brother, the speech Sidious gave was an easy cover for his plan. With a simple wave of Maul's hand, his Darksaber was ignited against the old man, striking him dead instantly.

Ajax recalled, probably for the first in a very long time, a misplaced fear possessing him. He was a Mandalorian, for crying out loud!!! Fear was something that sparked excitement, not more of the venomous poison. Yet, still, he quivered as the leader of the formerly pacifist planet strode out with two extra sabers of his belt, simply nodded with his piercing gold eyes, then returned to the throne room.

He-- honestly-- knew not what to make of this Sith, but Maul knew that the old ways, the true meaning of "Mandalorian", would be restored underneath his iron, Force-Using fist.

.          .          .

Khana Kryze watched in horror as her world that she knew burned in an unholy hellfire. Her brunette hair slapped her pale white face as the breeze of the Death Watch fleets' momentum brushed under a bridge. The soldiers began to drag the remaining pacifists out of hiding. She herself, was barricading herself in the lower levels of the city.

The twenty-five year old woman wasn't one to easily be frightened, yet she felt her strength fleeing. The evil and horrific colors of red and black painted the formerly clear skies. Fire began to rain from the once peaceful air, both from the jetpacks, flames from burning buildings and blasters.

Khana never believed she would ever see the day when the Mandalore she had become so accustomed to would suddenly snap under a murderous tyrant and his infinite army! 'What has this world come to?'  she thought. It was quite ironic, honestly. Yesterday, they had peace. Sure, rumors were scampering about, yet they were simple stories. Then next... hell was breaking loose.

She knew they were as false as saying Jabba the Hutt sprinted from Tattooine to Mandalore in a few minutes; the claims were impossible and stupid! And she knew very well.

Along with being the duchess's niece, Khana had been Satine's personal handmaiden in her early rein, which let her in on a few secrets that simply being a niece wouldn't be allowed to know. This, however, all maked the stories false in every way. Satine wouldn't murder anyone, even if it came to her own life. Hell, she would stop running Mandalore on her own if someone's life depended on it!

Khana's brown locks brushed her face again, quaking just as she was. All hope was fleeing. Mandalore, the New Mandalore, was dead. She felt her spirit breaking. The endless wave of panic flooding the people was maddening! She received everyone's pain as her own. It was all over, burning to ashes.

No.

Mandalore isn't dead. Mandalore will survive. They always survive. 'We always survive.'  Khana continued to chant the reassuring words to herself, as if her prayer was determined to be answered. She knew it deep within her torn soul. Mandalore would survive.

But which Mandalore? The old warriors or the new pacifists? Little did she know that the war against peace and violence was soon to be waged.

The true battle was so to begin.