“Well? You just going to keep on staring at me?” Vancil asked snarkily, pointing an armoured finger at the flamboyantly armoured soldier sitting across from him.
Captain Tryd in response said… nothing. He simply leaned back, crossed his arms, and continued to watch Vancil with a vigilance. The Sith could only wait for a response for a few more seconds before letting out an amused scoff. A light elbow from Kandria at his side stopped him from speaking further. The three of them were all in the hangar of the ST-70, the ship itself shaking slightly as they began to enter the atmosphere of Concordia. Vancil rested one hand on his knee while the other idly touched the lightsaber at his waist.
It had been a couple of hours since they had accepted the Duchess’ offer to hunt down this ‘Deathwatch’ group, and both he and Kandria had been debriefed thoroughly on the situation. Essentially, Deathwatch was a radical terrorist group of Mandalorians who wanted to bring back the glory of the Mandalore of old, because apparently Mandalore was currently under the rule of some weird movement called the New Mandalorians who wanted to be pacifists. Vancil personally didn’t really understand how the hell the Pacifists managed to take control of the system, but he wasn’t interested enough to ask at that point. And, as it turns out, a splinter group of some of the most famed warriors in the galaxy who are dedicated to bringing back their warrior ways makes for a pretty effective terrorist organisation. According to the Duchess, Mandalore was also crippled hopelessly by corruption, making Deathwatch’s job all the easier.
After that little history lesson the two force wielders were given the briefing on their task; from what intel could be gleaned, the main Deathwatch cell was based on the moon of Concordia which orbited Mandalore, including their leader who remained unknown. Vancil, Kandria, Captain Tryd, and two pilots would take the ST-70 to Concordia to investigate this information with the help of the Governor of the moon, Pre Vizsla. Every piece of log or Blackbox had already been either found or copied off of the main terminal to be decoded back at the palace, but nothing was permanently removed, in case Deathwatch realised something was up and scrambled away before the trio could find them.
The three of them also served another purpose, albeit a secret one; draw out an attack by Deathwatch in a similar fashion to how they had done at the dock. According to Tryd, Deathwatch primarily targeted vulnerable areas like parks and schools, never something with an established police presence like the entry gates. This meant that there was something on that ship which Deathwatch wanted to retrieve, or at least keep out of the government’s hands considering that they had attempted to just straight up destroy the ship once they realised the battle was lost. So, the bet was that, even if Deathwatch realised the government already had searched the ship, whatever was on it was important enough to warrant trying a second time.
It was this second motive that irked Vancil. Not for its objective, he could quite understand the reasoning behind it, and was always up for risky tactics simply so that he could prove the odds wrong out of spite. What he did not appreciate though, was that there was only three of them sent on this little operation. The thought brought a scowl to his face. This was an entrenched and dangerous terrorist cell which were natives of the landscape, with access to some of the highest-grade weaponry in the galaxy.
He may have been stupid and reckless in his actions on a smaller scale, but on the grander scale he was no fool and knew when to retreat or reconsider a plan. Normally he would have been fine with throwing himself into battle knowing death was likely. But things had changed. Mainly, Kandria had come into his life. And that was something he would not willingly throw into the meat grinder no matter what.
When he had brought up this point about a lack of manpower, the Duchess simply blatantly refused his request for more support, something about being stretched thing across the entire planet already, and that sending the Captain of the Royal Guard was risky enough. Thankfully, before he could mock her and explain how her pacifist ways were the reason for this lack of proper strength or power, Kandria intervened and said it would be fine. He didn’t push further after that. He owed her that much after he had essentially hijacked the situation on the dock after saying it was hers to manage.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“We’re coming up to the dock now, the Governor is waiting for us on the landing pad.” Came the pilot’s voice over the ship’s intercom, the crackly noise echoing around the silent hangar bay.
Vancil tore his gaze away from Tryd’s and towards the hangar door expectantly, thanking the fact that his mask hid the slight nervousness he felt from Tryd and Kandria. He still had an image to maintain after all, especially in front of a stranger like Tryd.
Psychological warfare and imagery were the Sith’s battleground, after all.
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Governor Pre Vizsla smiled amiably as the hangar door dropped and three individuals walked, looking like a rag tag group of… a problem. A severe problem. He had gotten back word from one of his operatives who had observed the absolute disaster at the docks only an hour before the Duchess had sent a transmission to inform him that she was sending a team of force sensitives to investigate the intel about the Deathwatch base on Concordia.
He forced his smile wider and held out his arms in a welcoming gesture, “Captain Tryd! It has been too long. I believe the last time we even saw each other in person was at that dinner a year ago!”
Tryd was a hard man, and one deathly loyal to these ‘New Mandalorians’. Yet, despite his allegiance, Vizsla knew him to be one of the most skilled warriors and soldiers he had ever seen, as well as the best tactician the New Mandalorians had in their arsenal. And, like the rest of the Royal Guard, they were immune to any sort of infiltration, and any intel to be gained from that section of the military was via good old-fashioned stealing, but even that was difficult. Thankfully, Tryd was also a blunt and honest man, and so if he suspected anything Vizsla would have certainly heard about it.
The man in question grunted gruffly in response, “I suppose so. You have the coordinates for the abandoned mine?”
Vizsla’s eye twitched slightly, but he was confident enough in his ability to hide it, “Of course.” He said, reaching into his pocket and taking out the data chip.
Much to Vizsla’s own chagrin the data was in fact real and pointed towards the Deathwatch base on Concordia. He had only an hour warning after all, and Tryd would have surely spotted any bogus data the moment he laid eyes on it. But once again, Vizsla was confident in his own abilities and the effectiveness of his plan.
His eyes flicked over to the other two standing to the left of Captain Tryd. Now these two were the real issue. The Duchess had told him little about these ‘force users’, and as he was trying to maintain the image of a loyal subordinate he couldn’t press further. It was interesting how she had specifically not called them Jedi though. It was an absurd detail, but an important one nonetheless. Jedi were commonly known as the only force users throughout the galaxy with the exception of maybe a few unintelligent species on distant planets. And looking at them now, they certainly didn’t look like Jedi.
The male in a black cloak looked like he was a soldier geared for war, and Vizsla could feel the seething tension oozing off of him despite not being force sensitive himself. A smooth black metal mask hid his face and expression, and even his eyes were hidden by white lenses. No part of this man was exposed, and the metal of his armour looked scratched and battered, signs of reliable use. This was not the look of those diplomatic monks he despised oh so much. This was the look of a warrior.
The female at least looked more approachable than the man at least. She wore what looked to be a leather armour of sorts with purple clothing over it. Like the man her face was masked and hood pulled up, but at least her eyes and some of her face was visible. But it was something in the way she held herself that set her apart from the Jedi he had seen before. She did not have a perfectly straight back and a calm demeanour. Rather, in a similar manner to the man, she seemed to be on constant vigilance as though she were already in a combat zone.
And much to the woe of Vizsla, they both matched the descriptions of the ones who had thwarted the attack at the docks. He didn’t show this woe however, and even struck up a conversation with Tryd as he led the three off the doc and towards the speeders set aside for them. Now was not the time to let such feelings control him after all. As he said a quick farewell under the guise of having some urgent matters to attend to, there was one thought going through Pre Vizslas head.
This would be make or break for the Deathwatch. The trap was set, and if successful, the invasion of Mandalore would be just one more step closer with the death of both Tryd and these new assets of the Duchess.
Because he would bring about the restoration of Mandalore’s glory, whatever the cost.