Humiliation, that was what Maaka Vaakul, young bounty hunter and now captive of the Empire, felt. She had wanted nothing but a death in combat, not in an Imperial workcamp. Her blaster, her armour, her honour, all gone, an honourable death denied. Her hands were not tied, but they felt like they were. She had failed her mission for the first time in her career and it had ended this way, it seemed like fate.
Quietly, without moving she sat where the stormtrooper had pushed her to, even as the engines of the transport spooled up. Not even when the commotion in the front section started did she look up to see what was going on. She had lost what made her Mandalorian. Her pride, her honour. Only a trial by combat could save that honour. Either that or killing of the one who had robber her of that honour, willingly.
Yes, the Imperial Officer she tried to assassinate wanted her dead, but one of his agents, somebody who had worked to suppress several smaller Mandalorian revolts, had stopped him from sentencing Maaka for execution. Agent Dosun, a sadist through and through. He knew, even though Maaka was not born on Mandalore or any of its colonies, she was still a Mandalorian. One does not have to be born on Madalore to be a Mandalorian, you don't even have to be the same species, as shown by Maaka.
Nevertheless, the droid was starting to annoy her talking about some nonsense. She gathered it was probably their guardian, as it was the only thing with guns around here. One little chance, she had one little chance. Determined Maaka stood up and called out to the droid. "Ey, Rustbucket! I demand either a Mandalorian Trial or an execution, here and now! That means, either duel me or shoot me, in case your memory core is damaged."
Enraged opponents were good opponents, Revvin always told her. Of course, it might not work on droids, but at this point in time, she didn't care. She just wanted to die with at least a sliver of honour restored.