CRC7935 (BBY42)
A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, within the Outer Rim's Mandalore system, a rapidly escalating clan war completely engulfed Sundari, the capital city of Mandalore.
This was all because someone had killed Adonai Kryze while protecting Sundari. Satine Kryze, who was studying on Coruscant, rushed back to Sundari upon hearing the news, inheriting her father's title and the New Mandalorian faction.
Nearly a millennium ago, the Republic's scorched-earth campaign had turned almost the entire planet of Mandalore into a white desert. The only habitable places left on the planet were a few domed cities and oases scattered across the desert.
Near one such oasis, an abandoned shipyard served as home to a group of Mandalore scavengers. Most of them were children who had lost their parents or relatives in the civil war, led by Kote Vizsla.
Here, there was none of the conflict of the traditional Mandalorians, nor the pacifism of the New Mandalorians. There were only children fighting to survive, and Kote Vizsla, fighting to save them.
The scorching white sands hissed under the sun, a remnant of the Mandalorian Purge a thousand years ago. For Kote Vizsla, it was the embodiment of a double nightmare.
Physically, he was a boy exiled by the Vizsla family at the age of eleven for possessing the Force. Spiritually, he was a transmigrator from a distant, alien world, a person whose mind was filled with fragmented knowledge of this galaxy's future.
He remembered "Star Wars"—the grand battles, the legendary heroes and villains, the rise and fall of the Empire... But these memories were like looking through a pane of glass, blurry, disjointed, sometimes even contradictory. He knew Palpatine was a Sith Lord in sheep's clothing, but now, the future Emperor was just a calculating senator from Naboo.
He knew the Clone Wars would soon tear the galaxy apart, but at this moment, the Mandalorian civil war was the burning inferno before him.
He knew Darth Maul, Yoda, Anakin Skywalker... But these names, to him now, were as distant and unreachable as myths and legends.
What stung him most were the memories of the Mandalorians. He knew his sixteen-year-old cousin, Satine Kryze, would become the pacifist leader of New Mandalore and eventually die from a power-grab assassination.
He knew his five-year-old cousin, Bo-Katan Kryze, who was just learning to use a blaster, would wield the Darksaber in the future and lead the Mandalorians through countless hardships... And him, Kote Vizsla? In the storylines he knew, he couldn't find his name. He was just an exile buried by the dust of history. But now, everything was different. He would change his own future and leave his mark on Star Wars history!
But right now, he was watching several children and maintenance droids repairing a dilapidated Kom'rk-class fighter. They had found this fighter in the abandoned shipyard; it was mostly complete but quite old. Still, it was perfectly adequate for scavenging in space.
A moment later, a maintenance droid walked over with a datapad to report, "Inspection complete, boss. Ready to proceed to Mandaloria."
Kote nodded, checked the two Westar-35 blaster pistols on his belt. Satisfied, he put on his helmet and, once ready, walked towards the ship.
"Boss, the battle between the True Mandalorians and Death Watch has engulfed all of Mandalore. My cousin's family is still there, and I'm a bit worried," a boy of about ten years old approached him.
Kote heard what the person said and looked at him. "Omen, family is something we never abandon. When I get back, we'll prepare to go to Sundari. You gather the brothers, get the gear ready, and then settle the younger children." He patted Omen's shoulder and continued towards the ship.
Entering the ship, he went directly to the pilot's seat. The ship slowly ascended, its wings flattened, and it shot out of the base, leaving the war-torn planet of Mandalore behind.
Just as he exited Mandalore's atmosphere, two Kom'rk-class fighters approached and sent a comm request.
Kote accepted the communication.
"State your name and clan. Your ship has no identification code."
"Kote Vizsla, Scavenger."
A burst of laughter came from the other Kom'rk-class fighter, "You're that Kote Vizsla, the one kicked out by the Vizsla family? Didn't expect you to still be alive."
"Clearly you're Death Watch, but how I'm doing isn't your concern," Kote couldn't be bothered with the guy; he was in a hurry to find various ship wreckage from a century-old war.
"Alright, little guy, next time remember to add an identification code, otherwise you'll be mistaken for those pacifist Mandalorian wastes."
"Alright, alright," Kote quickly left, piloting his ship towards the century-old battlefield of Mandaloria.
The ship turned on its searchlights and slowly navigated through the ship graveyard, looking for any valuable ships that could be salvaged for modification or sold for scrap metal.
Suddenly, a faint signal appeared on the radar, only to immediately vanish.
"What the heck? It was just calibrated," Kote was stunned. This area was the central region of the Mandalore system; no other scavengers would dare come here to die. After all, Death Watch and the True Mandalorians were not to be trifled with; even Jedi would be fought.
"Alright, let's see who's trying to steal our scavenging work in the Mandalore system," Kote turned his ship directly towards the spot where the radar signal had just flashed.
The Kom'rk-class fighter slowly approached. The ship's weapon systems were fully activated, ready for immediate attack, and the radar's search signal was strengthened.
"This is!" Kote exclaimed. The searchlights illuminated the area ahead. It was a Behemoth-class battlecruiser! Seeing this familiar vessel, it was impossible for it to appear in the Star Wars universe!
Perhaps explaining it this way doesn't convey the concept. Or, to mention its most famous ship of the same class: the "Hyperion"! (Though it has been heavily modified, it is still a Behemoth-class.)
"I have to go in and see what this is!" Kote was beyond excited. He slowly docked his ship into the battlecruiser's hangar.
After automatically docking, Kote exited his ship and looked around at the pitch black surroundings. "Looks like the entire cruiser's power isn't on." Kote turned on the searchlight on his helmet, lowered his rangefinder, pulled out his blaster pistol, and cautiously surveyed the area.
Looking at the squadron of Wraith fighters parked around, he mused, "If all these were mine, I'd have a foundation to stand on. It seems there's no one on this ship." He continued walking forward slowly as he spoke.
But a closed blast door blocked Kote's path. He pressed the display button next to it, but there was no reaction at all.
"Open this door, open this door," Kote thought to himself, extending his hand and making a gesture, mentally willing the door to open.
Suddenly, the door was opened by an invisible force, and the path ahead became clear.
"The Force really is useful," Kote praised.
Kote cautiously searched half the ship, finding no signs of life, but he did discover quite a few weapons and equipment.
Finally, he opened another blast door and found what seemed to be the bridge. He began to explore it, trying to figure out how to activate this behemoth.
After searching for a long time, he finally found a button. Upon pressing it, the lights began to rapidly turn on one by one, and the sound of the power activating could be heard. At this moment, a voice emanated from an unknown location.
"Welcome, outsider. Welcome to the Hyperion."