Chapter Text
Vorpa’ya’s grass plains had been turned into wastes of ash. Somewhere out there, golden armoured Knights were advancing on the trenches the Mandalorian Clans had dug under the call of Mandalor. The air was drenched with dark grey smoke, it had become so thick that Ecuyan had to activate his helmet’s filters just so he wouldn’t succumb to smoke inhalation before the Knights had even reached his position. Zakuul… the foreign name lay like a curse on his tongue.
He kept his grip tight on the sniper rifle in his hands, the barrel aimed at the formless grey mass wafting in front of him. Somewhere in there the foreign Knights marched towards them. Soon their blue lightspears would glimmer through… and he would know where to shoot. His clan, the one who had accepted him with open arms, lay in wait beside him. All com chatter had quieted down as soon as the first signals from Mandalore had come about a first engagement.
Mandalore was somewhere at the very front lines with his own clan. The Empire had been left scrambling, but Darth Nema had sent them as many forces as she had been able to. It would not enough. He gritted his teeth together, re-adjusting his grip on his rifle. If Marr was still alive… like Zakuul, his name had become like a curse he spat in a fire, they’d have no foreign power invading and burning everything they all held dear.
Then…
Blue glimmered up.
He took aim. No more time to throw regrets at a man long dead.
Next thing he knew was waking up on to the rumbling of a ship’s engine. Bandages had been wrapped around every inch of his body. Pain, dulled and pounding underneath a blanket of numbness, sat deep in his bones. Medical bay, the one on the Clan’s largest ships whose deep bone-resonating hum vibrated in his head. Gargled noises escaped him, as he weakly tried to sit up. His body was so weak… he fell back on the medical bed. Looking around frantically, he saw all of its beds were filled. Most quiet, some were groaning or moaning underneath the background. His head dropped back, he panted at the exertion.
What happened? Last thing he remembered…..
“Ecuyan?” Torian’s voice broke through. “How’s the pain?”
“Like…, Torian?” Ecuyan coughed, his ribs screaming at the sudden action. “What’s going on?”
“We are fleeing Vorpa’ya,” Torian replied, his face shifting into his vision. “Zakuul beat us. Mandalore is dead. They… they put orbiting fortresses on our worlds. Half of the Clan is dead. I am sorry.”
“Where?” Ecuyan croaked out. “Where are we going?”
“Teth,” Torian sighed. “Mako punched in some co-ordinates her headpiece spat out in her panic.”
“Teth? Never heard of it.”
“These fortresses prevent anyone from leaving or entering,” Torian shook his head. “But on Teth, we can regroup and take the fight back to them.”
Ecuyan merely stared at the younger Mandalorian. Fight? It was the Mandalorian way, that was sure. But who was left of the armed forces? First… he looked down to where he could feel his leg in a cast… he would have to recover. If need be, he’d bite his tongue and ask Nema, or the others who he had met on Yavin.
“Mako?” He gasped out.
“Cockpit,” Torian grimaced. “Keeping an eye out on the holo-net chatter. Gault is… trying to think of a plan in case there are inhabitants on Teth. Blizz is in the engine room.”
Ecuyan let out a sigh of relief. “Uninjured?”
“Mostly,” Torian held up his arm that was in a sling. “Catch some more rest.”
Teth was largely uninhabited, except for a monastery high on a mountain range and a pirate nest on a coastal region. They landed on a large island that was covered in a jungle-like forest. An deal spot to establish an off the grid base to recuperate. Only half of the Clan had survived, some with permanent injuries while others would need time to fully recover to their former strength.
Yet, as soon as he had been able to leave the planet, the state of the galaxy came crashing down all around him. Supplies were in short supply. The Empire had a new Empress, his former allies presumed dead or missing. Bounty hunter contracts were… no longer about the money, but more about securing of food, resources… So much had changed over the course of a year they had hidden off the grid, the thought that he had somehow travelled to a different galaxy briefly crossed his mind in that moment.
All it meant he could no longer trade for materials to build his base up. Scavenging… as degrading as it was, led him and others from his clan to Hoth. Frozen starships or not, some would have useful parts for ships or their buildings. His cloak and heat dispensers were checked and ready when they hit the frozen ground. On their sensors there had been a blip from one small starship trapped underneath a wing of a far larger fleet ship. Blip of activity, of a power surge. Sign of a functioning life sustaining system.
Inside, however, he found the remnants of a Zakuul raid stubbornly clinging to life. Weak, pathetic little Imperial soldiers. Barely had the energy to even fight when he rolled a few over. Only one swatted out, albeit weakened from being out so long in the cold. A chiss woman, but her face was so pale that he briefly wondered if she actually was human. But her red eyes flashed in the darkness like a defiant fire.
“If you can keep up, we shall grant you shelter,” he spoke, with all the authority the Champion of the Great Hunt still held. “We will not stop nor slow down for you or the cold will get us all.”
Out of five survivors on that ship, only two, the woman too, had managed to keep all the way to the ship with him and the rest of the Clan. They’d have to prove themselves still, but for now he could afford giving them some shelter.
A year after Mandalore’s death, he had returned to the bounty hunting business. The clan needed money, a guaranteed source of supply through established contacts. Sometimes it was gathering supplies, overseeing the transfer of resources from one system to another if the Empire did not have the men.
Or… one he enjoyed the most, was to hunt Knights of Zakuul. Ones people were willing to dish out whatever money they had to feed themselves to be killed. He didn’t care in the end, he just got the job done. Most Knights patrolled their designated sectors or stayed on occupation bases on Imperial or Republic planets.
Mandalorian worlds however… no communication in or out and trying to land was met with Zakuul opening fire on any approaching ships. Infuriating, but he did not have the men nor the manpower to do more. Other clans had either been trapped on those planets… or too scattered.
Or maybe he was not easy to find anymore.
Who knew….
Another two years passed. And when Zakuul celebrated its victory’s third anniversary, Ecuyan woke up to a message from Lana on his holo-com. Request to meet up on a remote asteroid starship station. One of the shadier places, but with a Sith Lord and him, the Champion of the Great Hunt, there would be not too many threats for them. Yet, he’d take Teymin and Torian with him. The larger the force he arrived with, the likelier it would be they’d be left alone… without ears and eyes.
Lana was using her disguise on Rishi again. Hood with a large scarf wrapped up to under her nose.
“Lana,” he greeted her, plopping down on the stool opposite her.
“Champion,” she greeted back, but did not push down the half-mask. “I hope you still take contracts?”
“I do,” Ecuyan suppressed a chuckle. “But you knew that.”
“I did. I have one for you of a more… unconventional nature for you.”
“That I do doubt.”
“I am searching for information, or more someone who can supply me with that information.”
“What type of information?”
“Zakuul,” she simply said and he felt himself bristling. “Their weaknesses, their secrets. Anything to break their hold on us.”
“And you need me to find someone who is willing to croak?” Ecuyan huffed, half-amused already.
“Those Knights are formidable,” Lana continued mirthlessly. “And they always travel in pairs, I need an ally and intimidation has always yielded some results.”
Ecuyan glanced over to Teymin and Torian who gave him imperceptible nods.
“I am in,” he folded his hands on the table. “Let’s talk logistics.”
Their source of information came from the most unlikely source… A female Knight who did not wear the armour most Knights did. Maybe a higher ranking one, or one of higher standing. But she had them cornered, well more figuratively than literally. That she hasn’t attacked yet or spouted some none-sense about avenging their Emperor was at least a welcome diversion from the usual missions Lana and Koth dragged him on with.
“You said you wished to talk?” Lana was the first to find her voice after the request had them both stunned into silence.
“Yes,” the woman looked older than them, some grey hair streaked through her tight bun. “I believe I have information that would benefit you and I believe you have information I could use.”
“Why would a Knight go against Zakuul?” Ecuyan asked suspiciously.
“The new Emperor has committed atrocities on the action of one,” Senya, as she had introduced herself began slowly, too deliberately. Withholding information. “I will have no part in this, but my loyalty is still to Zakuul.”
“You wish to dethrone him?”
“And High Justice Vaylin,” she added.
“What information do you seek from us?”
“Safe havens,” Senya spoke. “My standing within the Empire has been shaken ever since the Emperor was killed. Others are reliant on safe havens as wells.”
Lana was frowning deeply, her mind obviously churning out possibilities and contingency plans. Debating whether she should divulge the existence of the resistance that was still in its infancy stages.
“Asylum,” Lana replied. “Abandoned mining port and off any major hyperspace lanes.”
“Thank you,” Senya bowed her head.
“What information do you have for us?”
“I know where Emperor Arcann is holding Darth Marr,” Senya answered. “He is the Outlander who assassinated our Immortal Emperor. He is alive, as is Darth Nema and her daughter.”
“Alive?” Lana blurted out. “How? We never sensed him….?”
Ecuyan bared his teeth. If Marr had betrayed them….
“For his crime of assassinating our Emperor, he was frozen into carbonite and hidden away,” Senya winced. “Same for Nema and her daughter when they were turned over as tributes.”
Lana’s mouth dropped slightly at the revelation. “It does explain why we no longer can sense them.”
“So…,” Ecuyan frowned. “Marr has not let us down?”
The two women did not give him a single glance, but Teymin had this smile on her face. One of relief. Former Imperial… her admiration of Darth Marr had never truly gone away. Maybe he should have listened to her unshakeable belief in this one Sith.
“He would be a figure people can rally around,” Lana thought out loud feverishly. “Part of the original alliance on Yavin… stayed away on Ziost, did not engage…,” her yellow eyes were burning then. “One piece of the puzzle has become clear.”
Marr was alive… Ecuyan shook his head. Maybe there was a glimmer of hope for them out there.