The Mandalorian way

Brothers fate

  The two circled one another. Weapons held at the ready. "Do you honestly think to best me boy?" The circling continued, neither one making the first move. "Coward, you bring shame to your ancestors."

Tristan ignored the taunts, knowing that the first move shouldn't be his. "So, this is the fabled Mandalorian ferocity?" Tristan nodded at him. The circling continued. "I have to say, I am unimpressed."

The inquisitor, apparently having gotten tired of Tristan's patience started the fight with a jump. Recognizing his opportunity Tristan threw his left arm out, repulsor ready, and fired launching the airborne inquisitor away from him. "Patience, it is a lesson that must not only be retaught but relearned daily." The inquisitor rose to his feet and dusted himself off. "Don't spout Jedi proverbs at me, Mandalorian!"

Throwing his lightsaber at Tristan he ran forward. Due to the distance, Tristan had plenty of time to fly into the air and avoid the attack. "I have to say, inquisitor, I'm terribly disappointed with your performance. The last one was far more imposing." Tristan taunted from the air.

"You insulant little bastard! I'll kill your entire pathetic clan! You hear me! Not even the children will be spared!" Tristan just laughed at him, flying circles around him in the air. "Please, if this is your best even the children could best you!"

Tristan stopped mid-flight as he felt an invisible force latch on to him. "Agh, shit." Bracing himself as he was thrown to the ground he rolled. "Okay, I deserved that." Rolling he fired at the inquisitor only to have the bolts sent back at him. Falling onto his side as the bolts connected with his shoulder and arm. "Okay, not a good idea."

He moved to get up only to be kicked in the head, sending his helmet flying. "Insolent fool, normally, I would have shown mercy... ending you quickly." The inquisitor stood on top of him. "Shit." Tristan muttered, knowing he was in a bad spot. "Indeed Tristan. But take heart, on this day your ancestors are smiling at you." Tristan nodded and swallowed down the growing lump in his throat. "Can you say the same?"

Pulling Tristan's arm up with the force he shook his head. "No, I doubt I can say that. But, I know my son, would honor me in death. But you, an old cripple for a father, a coward of a mother. Your sister, the only one to try and avenge you. And like you, she will die with honor."

"I'll respect you, Tristan. Before you die, look me in the eye." He pressed a button on the side of his helmet, exposing his face to the elements. "You look a lot like Ezra." He nodded, looking down at him. "Mira used to stay that too. If circumstances were different, I would have joined you here with my son." Tristan quirked a brow at him. "You can still join us. Sabine is with child, you're going to be a grandfather."

He nodded, pulled his lightsaber to his hand. "No, I can't let my grandchild grow up like this. The child will be mine." Igniting the saber he moved it closer to Tristan's arm. "Lord Vader now demands a physical trophy of the kill. I will let you keep your head, but I need the arm." Slicing his arm off he impaled him on the backswing. A weak gasp escaped him before he died on the cold ground of Krownest.

"Take heart Tristan Wren. Your ancestors are proud of you." Holding Tristan's severed arm by his hand he walked away, plotting how to get his grandchild. "Should I take Sabine? Or wait for her to deliver the child then strike?"