Introducing:

Mandalorian Outcast

My son, Bobby, has followed in my footsteps in that he has always been a writer.  His tastes are often different from mine but, I think you will agree, his talent is great.  Mandalorian Outcast is a book-length work of fan fiction based in the Star Wars Universe.  I will be posting and updating the book as he sends new parts.  If you are a fan of science fiction, I know you’re going to enjoy this.

Side note: The image below is actually Bobby wearing a costume he made mostly from scratch.  See what I mean by talent?

First, a note from the author:

Star Wars was my first love. In fact, it was one of the first things I remember my dad and I ever bonding over. It taught me so much or at least fleshed out what my parents tried to teach me about right and wrong. It helped define what made heroes and villains; and the importance of standing up for what’s right even against overwhelming odds…and giant super weapons. It also taught me how ‘Hope’ can spring from the most random places(Luke Skywalker), that the ability to do what’s right is in all of us(Han Solo), and that just because you were born a princess doesn’t mean you can’t kick a little butt(Leia, you will always be royalty. RIP Carrie Fisher) Not to mention that with only having 5 lines a character can be immortalized by simply wearing the coolest suit of armor in the galaxy and inspiring an entire culture and language(the Fetts). Dialogue is good but shear Presence is better. (Oya Mando’ade)

As the years went by that love of a galaxy far far away waxed and waned but always remained. Almost everything I did or became interested in can be traced back to that first moment the Star Wars text scrolled across the screen. I was hooked and thus doomed myself to a lifetime of geekdom. Back in the 90s in the beautiful state of Missouri being a sci-fi fan wasn’t a very attractive trait. I certainly didn’t help my case by preferring crafts and watching movies over sports and hunting (two big mainstays in my family and community) or that as I got older I supplemented Star Wars with shows like Stargate SG1, Andromeda, Firefly, Battlestar Galactica, etc…(Never could get into Star Trek though, sorry Spock) Needless to say grade school sucked, that was until Pokémon finally became popular, then Toonami, and eventually Yugi-oh. Suddenly it was ok to be a geek, but since I didn’t ride the mainstream geek train I was once again relegated to the outskirts, least I wasn’t alone by then. (Shout out to Samantha Montana, Alex Shepard, Corky Weegrum, Elisa Belcher, and Dallas Terril for always having my back)

And then I turned 17. Finally my 5ft even lanky self-filled out at 5’9” since I started doing JROTC and Track and Field. I was still a geek and a devout Christian though and the hierarchies of High School were not about to let me forget it. So rather than sinking myself into student loan debt like everyone else who went to college, I joined the Army, served 4 years active (with 1 deployment to Iraq in that time) I did 2 years in the GA Nat. Guard. By then I was much more confident in myself and what my passions were. I’d supplemented my fandom with fabrication, prop-making, cosplay, and miniature painting (and randomly doomsday prepping (thank you Jericho!))

Now I’ve come full circle, with the release of Clone Wars, Rebels, Rogue One, and the Force Awakens my Star Wars love has rekindled. I created a story for my cosplay character Jarek Orion (because Mandalorians are so cool, ref. Republic Commandos by Karen Travis) who was also the character I role-played in the original Star Wars RPG game and later on in the Fantasy Flights RPG game. So like many D&D and Pathfinder players, I decided to put pen to paper and chronicle Jarek’s story drawing inspiration from my own life experiences and his own in-game experiences. It has taken a number of years with one or two ret-cons to his character and story arc before it finally fleshed itself out.

I don’t want to do a character Bio simply because it would reveal too much of his past which is intentionally kept shrouded. I will say inspiration was drawn from Aloy (Horizon: Zero Dawn) Ryu (Ninja Assassin) and Oliver Queen (Arrow) as well as a few others. I also tried to avoid staging any of his adventures on worlds/environs seen in the films. Why you may ask? Because the Star Wars universe is HUGE! There are sooo many more adventures, species, cultures, and locales to be had! However, being a fan I appreciate anchoring any Star Wars story to the familiar at first which is why Jarek’s adult story picks up on Tatooine approximately five years after the Rise of the Empire. Episode 1 deals with Jarek’s Origin story, legitimizing his skills in a way to prove his talents were earned. Episode 2 onward is known as the ‘Edge of the Empire’ story arc which will deal with Jarek’s adventures both legal and illegal.

…so without further ado…let the fanfiction begin.

Disclaimer: I do not own star wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain I’d be more than happy to drop everything and come running. Please read and leave a review.

 

Star Wars

The Mandalorian: Episode 1: The Outcast

Chapter One: Life

Planet Kalevala; Mandalorian Space:

Jarek knelt, balancing lightly on the balls of his feet, keeping as much of the berry bush between himself and the group of children beyond. There were six of them; three boys and three girls. They were all the age of seven, the same age as he was. Unlike him, they all wore clean cut and well maintained blue or white tunics trimmed in grey. The girl’s braids were adorned with teal blue ribbons, while the boys kept their hair short.

Looking down at himself Jarek felt self-conscious in his tattered leather tunic and breeches. They were handmade for him by his father, Myler. Though he’d done the best he could, the man was no tailor. The man’s talents lay in the art of the hunt rather than in needle and thread. Though the clothes were sturdy and still fit, they were stained and weather worn from hard use. While his hair was cropped short like the other boys it was fairly unkempt due to the lack of running water at their dwelling.

Not for the first time he felt a stab of envy that he had not a mother to fuss over his appearance.

Over the years he’d seen the other children of the village interact with their mothers, albeit from afar. The women would tsk and tut over the smallest things and attempt to preen them on the spot. More often than not the children would complain, refuse, and attempt to squirm away.

They had no idea how lucky they were.

That afternoon the children were accompanied by only one of the mothers; the rest have taken the time to complete other errands or tasks while she babysat. The mothers often did things on a rotation each afternoon. While the rest went about their day the Mother-on-duty would take the younglings out to do something or another. One day it was fishing, another day it was a walking through the glade picking herbs, or washing/dying a batch of clothes.

Very few of the children ever complained. Young Mandalorian children were not averse to labor. It was a part of their daily lives. If they weren’t gathering food they’d be learning a craft, or skill to pass the time until they were old enough to apprentice to a working adult. Every Mandalorian in the clan had a purpose and every purpose benefited the clan as a whole. Jarek wondered what it would be like to be a part of that whole, and feel like he had a purpose more than just surviving day to day with his father.

“Jarek!” came the deep voice of Myler, his father. He must’ve noticed he’d wandered off while he spoke to a fellow outcast. Took him long enough. It was some distance away, but his sharp ears could easily discern it from overture of nature. Jarek may have been a child be he was very sneaky. Ignoring Myler’s call, Jarek turned back towards the children.

This afternoon the young mother was having the children gather berries from the bushes outside the settlement. While the children got to run off some energy on a sunny day, the mother got a large batch of berries for later. Everyone contributed to the whole.

One of the children, a boy with tousled blond hair, approached the young mother and held up two small handfuls of berries. The mother smiled and slid the berries into a container. “Oh, that is a lot of berries you picked Gaegen. Kandosii!” She patted him on the shoulder ushering him back out to gather more. Jarek could see his proud smirk all the way from his hiding spot.

The smile the woman had given the young boy made Jarek’s heartache. It ached as it always did when he saw the mothers cooing over the other children. Ached with longing for even a hint of that love and admiration. Ached for something to fill the hole in his life.

Myler was a fantastic parent, a fantastic buir, no question. He was strong, brave, and smart, but emotionally he was…distant. He never spoke of his dead wife, nor of how he had come to care for Jarek. But aside from acknowledging he was not Jarek’s body father, he made it abundantly clear that Jarek was his son and he cared for him thus. Myler was not free with his feelings but Jarek had always known them. Love of that nature was beyond words. Still, it would be pleasant to hear them from the lips of a more maternal figure.

Decision made, Jarek slunk back behind the bush. He took his time and plucked none but the very freshest and plumpest of berries. The smell was tantalizing enough to make his mouth water but he refused to eat even one. Taking a breath he strode boldly out into the open.

For a moment no one took notice of him, so set were they towards their task. By the time he neared the mother, whose back was to him only a single young girl had looked up and seen him. She had dark skin and seemed more curious about his presence then alarmed. The mother was not so pleasant. The moment she’d turned her attention from another child she visibly jerked in alarm and her eyes widened in surprise.

Jarek gulped down his nerves and held out the berries, easily more than the amount Gaegen had given earlier. He stood straight and tried his best to beam proudly expecting to hear the same praise he’d heard before.

It didn’t come.

The mother blinked once before she intentionally averted her gaze. Jarek’s heart sank a little. He steeled himself and stepped forward offering his berries once more. The woman clutched the storage container closer as if fearing he’d contaminate the lot with his own. As if he weren’t good enough to be with the rest. His heart plummeted. It would’ve hurt less had she slapped him across the face.

The mother stepped around him calling out, “Come ad’ikas, there’s a better patch near the creek.” She ushered the other younglings away, none of whom paid him any mind except Gaegen. The blond boy glared at him as if angered at his intrusion, or at his attempt to upstage him.  The mother hastily guided him along casting her only scolding glance.

Jarek’s vision blurred even as he continued to hold out the berries. He must’ve presented a pitiful site and yet he couldn’t seem to bring himself to move.

As the tears began to well up he noticed that the dark-skinned girl had lagged behind. She shyly approached him and gave him an empathetic smile. Jarek tried to return it, feeling a slight warmth as his heart seemed to stop it from breaking. Her smile grew warmer as she held out her hands to accept the berries. The gesture was a small one but for a moment Jarek felt gratitude. He held out the berries and began to deposit them in her upturned palms.

“Jilo! Come away from there!” the mother’s voice cracked like a whip causing both children to jump. The mother had returned and roughly steered the girl, Jilo, away from Jarek. The look the mother gave him was one of utter disgust. Jilo began to protest but the mother shushed her. “You will ignore him,” she hissed, “He is Dar’Manda!”

She seemed to spit the last word as if it were a curse. Jarek had one last fleeting glance of the girl’s apologetic expression before the group moved off. He stood there feeling a whirl of emotion only a few of which his young mind could identify. Shock, sadness, confusion, and yes…anger. He felt anger most of all.

Jarek gripped the berries in each hand, felt them pulp, and the juices drip from between his fingers. His heart hammered in his chest, each beat matching the pulse in his ears. The tears streamed down his cheeks even as he gritted his teeth to keep from crying out.

Throwing the sticky mess, that could have been some of the most delicious berries, to the ground, he turned and ran. He sprinted back into the woods, back to the shadows that seemed to always welcome him like a cold embrace.

“Jarek!” Somewhere in the distance, he heard his father call out to him, but he ignored it, sprinting headlong into the shadows of the canopy.

The sheer unfairness of it all welled within. Questions beat against his skull harder than the passing branches. Why could he not be praised? What made his longing so different than the other children? Did he not deserve a mother’s love as well? Why was he a Dar’Manda? Why was he an Outcast!?

His mind was so awash in his self-pity that his sadness mixed with anger blinded him to the forest around him. So much so that he didn’t watch where he was going.

One moment Jarek was running full-tilt and the very next…he was falling through space. He cried out in surprise, his anger replaced by panic. He flailed his arms and legs as the world came back into focus, realizing with great fear he had run right into one of the many stone cisterns that dotted the landscape. Cisterns his father had always warned him to stay clear of.

Jarek was only briefly aware of the grey stone walls of the shaft before his small body hit the side of the tunnel. Instinctively he tried to reach out in order to slow or even stop his fall, but his grip found no purchase. Jarek tumbled and rolled down the tunnel grunting and gasping in pain as he plummeted.

One second he was tumbling and then once more he felt the ground fall away and he cried out one last time before falling into darkness.

<>

Jarek had been lucky. At the bottom of these cisterns was water gathered by many years of rainfall and runoff. He was luckier still that it was cold. The shock of the changing temperature brought back to consciousness. Cold pressure enveloped his whole body. He couldn’t breathe! His lungs ached for air! Kicking out Jarek propelled himself up…and out of the water. Very briefly he hung above the surface of the pool in a cascade of shimmering diamond droplets. Then he came crashing back down on the rocky shore.

The air left his lungs and he had to take several deep breaths before he could breathe properly. Once that was done he took a quick mental account of his body, just as Myler had taught him. Aside from a burning pain on his left forearm, nothing felt broken. The burning came from a reddening cut that ran from his elbow up to his wrist. He hissed in pain as the dank cold air came into contact with it. Fortunately, the wound wasn’t serious so he forced himself to ignore it.

On the other hand, his situation was of greater concern.

Jarek stood shakily, a few sharp pangs let him know that other than a few bruises he’d have later, he was ok. Above him, out over the pool of water, he saw the light of the crevice he had fallen through. Well beyond his reach. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted. “Father! Faaather!” He paused and listened but heard nothing. He was either too deep or Myler was too far to hear.

 

Perfect.

Jarek sighed, angrier at himself now than at the situation that had put him there. He was sure to get an earful from Myler…if he saw him again.

-When he saw him again. Jarek couldn’t afford to think like that. He had to get out. The many cisterns and the caves that connected them were extensive. One of them had to lead him to the surface.

The light from the overhead opening reflected off the water helped illuminate the cave just enough he could make out the route ahead. Squaring his shoulders, a gesture he’d seen Myler do whenever he was about to set himself towards a task, Jarek set forth.

He took one cave route passing into one cistern after another only slowing to allow his eyesight to adjust to the changing light and be sure of his footing. The water level varied from waist level to nonexistent. The threat of “Cold-Shock” entered his mind but he had no way to keep warm other than to keep moving. His anger had long since been replaced by another more base need. The need to survive.

In one tunnel he cringed as a swarm of leathery wings and scaly bodies the size of his hand dropped from the ceiling and flew past. The startled flock of “Krat” was harmless, eaters of fungus and bugs. Their sudden screeching presence had surprised him, but it also encouraged him.

 

Krats only nested in caverns near the surface so as to fly out at dusk to prey on the swarms of insects that basked in the fading light. Another of Myler’s lessons put to good use.

Jarek followed the swarm, crouching through a smaller opening and entered a larger chamber. His heart sank a little when he saw the flock spiraling up and out of the opening over a hundred lengths above his head. Jarek sighed in frustration and proceeded into the chamber hoping to find yet another exit.

He hadn’t moved a few steps when his keen young eyes began to pick out certain details amongst the growth of fungus, lichen, and erosion. What he originally mistook as random rock formations were, in fact, support pillars and archways designed to support the cave ceiling. He wasn’t in a cave after all, but rather an ancient room carved into the rock by sentient beings.

It was common knowledge amongst the Mandalorians that they were not the first to settle Kalevala. Its surface was dotted with the ruins of a civilization lost to the annals of time. Some had even theorized the planets native species, the Kroot, were the descendants of that civilization. It mattered little, but still, the warriors and Hunters of the clans gave the ruins a wide birth mainly due to their instability.

Jarek marveled at the structure. He’d heard Myler and the others speak of such places scattered across the valley and beyond, but he’d never seen one himself. Myler had preached that such places were forbidden and cursed by the spirits of the dead.

With respect to his adoptive father, Jarek didn’t believe the stories of ghosts then and even here in the supposed home of those spirits he still didn’t. In fact, he felt an unfamiliar sensation. It was a warmth that spread around his shoulders and pressed in upon his soul. The feeling akin to a welcoming embrace. Like what he’d imagined from a mother.

Stepping further in he noticed the crumbled forms of statues and masonry that were barely recognizable. The room had to be thousands of cycles old. However, one aspect of it was newer then than the rest.

“Is that…a dead person?” he whispered aloud, fear etching its way into his mind.

In the middle of the room directly below the cavern opening lying in a fetal position was a corpse. The light from the afternoon sun illuminated the body in stark contrast to the darkness around it. Jarek’s first reflex was to give it a wide birth and continue on his way, but for some unknown reason, his instincts carried him directly towards the macabre site.

As he drew near the body details began to manifest themselves. First; that it was wrapped in a faded and weather-worn brown robe.  The robe was so overgrown by moss to the point it was difficult to tell where it ended and the garment began. Second; that even though the flesh had long since melted away, the skeleton beneath was clearly alien. Horns curved downward from either side of its head; the tip ending just below its chin. Jarek recognized the species but the name escaped him.

Third; it clutched something to its chest with skeletal hands. Jarek couldn’t tell what it was but its metallic surface glinted in the light. The moment the reflected light caught his attention the young boy felt a chill run up his spine and down to his fingertips.  A light breeze seemed to whisper in his ear, beckoning him nearer.

He complied.

Jarek slowly crept forward until he was kneeling next to the body. A closer inspection also revealed that both of its legs were broken and not as a result of the passing of time. Jarek glanced upward at the opening above and the green foliage beyond. It wasn’t hard to surmise that, like Jarek, he had lost his way and fell into the chamber, but unfortunately, unlike Jarek, he didn’t have a pool of water to break his fall.

The empty eye sockets seemed to plead with him while also echoing his own lonely sorrow. Whoever this being had been he had died here, alone and in pain. The result of a careless misstep.

In more ways than one Jarek sympathized with him.

As if expecting him, the bones and sinew that had held the skeletal hands in place for so many years finally gave way. The hand fell forward as if freely offering its contents to its long-awaited recipient. The object was a dark blue cube trimmed in silver; it seemed to glow with a faint inner light.

Jarek reached forward and ever so gently removed it from the alien’s hand.

<>

He was running! Legs pumping! Heart hammering in his chest! Fear raced through his veins!

There is no emotion…there is only Peace

He was falling! Hand scrabbled for a grip but found none! Down he went into the void!

There is no Ignorance…only Knowledge

Pain coursed through his body! His legs were immobile and yet even breath caused shattered bone to grate against torn muscle!

There is no passion…only serenity

The Holocron! Where was it?! There within reach! He clutched it tight to his breast! Such a little thing but it meant so much! The last vestige of better days.

There is no Chaos…only Harmony

Sorrow mixed with the deepest parts of grief swirled in his soul! The loss of much more than a loved one wracked his heart! The loss of a way of life, as well as a life, never lived! Of a love, he never got to share. Of the mother, he never knew.

 

There is no death…

The pain of his shattered legs was dull now. Fever and chills had replaced them. Hunger and thirst scraped at his throat and stomach for days, but even that was fading. The encroaching night was upon him. The sun passed into shadow one last time.

…there is only the Force…

No more pain…no more sorrow…the end of his path approached…the guiding light of oblivion beckoned him. Invisible hands and wings lifted him up and away. At last…he was at peace…

…and he died…

<> 

Jarek fell on his back, gasping for air. The cube landed on the moss between him and the corpse. Feeling moisture on his face, he reached up and touched it.  It wasn’t water. They were tears. Closing his eyes, Jarek tried to make sense of the images that passed across his vision and the wealth of emotion that accompanied them, but he was only seven cycles old. Many of the things he had seen – was seeing – and the feeling was as alien as the body before him.

Sitting up Jarek knelt next to the dead man.  He stared into the hollow opens where eyes had once been.  Of all the things he had felt and seen, that sense of loneliness and the yearning for the mother he would never know…that was the strongest feeling.  It was something he could empathize with. Though they were separated by the expanse of time and divide between species, they had that in common.

The cube lay dormant, its inner light now snuffed out. He hesitated before picking it up, expecting to feel the same rush of feelings as before, but felt nothing.

It has served its purpose.

The thought was a surreal one and he wasn’t sure where it came from, but it rang of truth. He had no idea what the device was but it seemed to house aspects of the-Ikotachi that’s what it was-the Ikotachi’s memories. From what he’d seen Jarek knew that he’d witnessed the beings death.

Jarek shut his eyes more and tried to focus.

Breathe he thought. A few deep breathes later and Jarek saw something or rather…remembered something.

There is no emotion…there is only Peace

There is no Ignorance…there is only Knowledge

There is no Passion…there is only Serenity

There is no Chaos…there is only Harmony

There is no Death…there is only the Force

The mantra seemed to repeat endlessly in his mind and course through every cell in his body. It was a part of him. It was his life. Or rather the life of the dead Ikotachi.

He pondered on the implications but pushed them to the back of his mind. The time for…meditation…would come later, right then he had to figure out a way to escape the cavern.

“Jarek!”

The sound of his name caused Jarek to leap to his feet. The word reverberated off of the walls making it hard to pinpoint the origin. Standing he looked around but aside from the way he came in he couldn’t see another opening.

“Jarek! Can you hear me?”

That was when he finally recognized the voice as that of his adoptive father; Myler. His Buir. With the second shout, Jarek was able to determine the origin of his voice. Jarek looked up at the opening. While he couldn’t see him the boy knew Myler was close.

Taking a deep breath Jarek cupped his hands around his mouth. “Myler!” he called out. Cocking his head to the side Jarek listened. Only a few heartbeats went by before he got a response.

“Jarek I hear you! Keep shouting!”

Heart hammering with nervous excitement, Jarek cupped his hands once more and yelled, “Myler! Myler down here!”

“I see the opening!” he replied his voice nearby and within seconds Jarek saw the all too familiar rugged face peak over the edge.

Jarek couldn’t help but crow in excitement. The anxiety of the last hour draining away with just the sheer joy of seeing his father again. Myler’s look of relief seemed to mirror his own.

“Jarek, thank the ancestors. Ad’ika, are you hurt?” He asked, a combination of relief and concern lacing his tone.

“No, just,” he glanced around at the corpse and the surrounding cave, “Just get me out of here.”

“Ok wait one moment,” Myler’s voice shifted back to its no-nonsense, all business tone. He disappeared briefly to uncoil the loop of rope he always kept on his person. “I’m dropping you a line.” As he spoke a long thin cable fell, its end making a small loop at the ground at Jarek’s feet. “Fix a hoop knot just as I showed you.”

Jarek did just that, his tiny hands moving with a deftness only months of practice could produce. Before he stepped into the hoop knot he looked down at the corpse. Despite the grim circumstances of their meeting or the tragic event that lead to it being there in the first place, Jarek felt like the Ikotochi was finally at peace. His gaze fell on the cube. He hesitated only for a moment before grabbing it and placing it in his tunic. Stepping into the hoop Jarek tugged twice on the rope.

“Hold on tight, ad’ika,” Myler called down right before pulling up on the rope. Jarek gave the cavern one more fleeting glance before he was bathed in sunlight. In a matter of minutes Myler, his close-cropped brown hair drenched in sweat hauled him up over the cave lip.  The moment he was clear of the opening the older Mandalorian pulled Jarek into a tight embrace.

The act of affection briefly shocked the boy before he returned it. The hug was tight but warm and within his father arms, Jarek felt that nothing could hurt him, not even the scorn of the mother.  For a man not given to spontaneous acts of emotion, Myler was a great hugger. Stepping back and after composing himself Myler asked, “Nothing broken?”

“No Buir,” Jarek replied after giving himself another mental as well as a physical once over.

Myler seemed to sigh in relief before his tone became as icy as the blue of his eyes. “What were you thinking of wandering off like that? And going into the caves! You know they’re dangerous! You could’ve been seriously hurt or even killed!”

Jarek stood and took the verbal onslaught. He felt guilty for making his father worry and even more so for putting them both in danger. Even knowing he deserved it still didn’t help make it any easier.

“What were you doing, taking off like that?” he demanded.

Jarek didn’t answer right away. Myler’s stare told him he wouldn’t move until he did. Figuring honesty to be the best thing, he replied with eyes cast downward, “I wanted to see the other children…and the mothers.”

Something in Myler’s cold gaze thawed and he seemed to deflate a bit, his anger subsiding. “I see…and?”

Jarek felt the emotions of earlier returned. They still chaffed on his raw nerves but he managed to keep from, crying. “They…ignored me…as if I wasn’t even there.”

Myler sighed once more and placed his hand on Jarek’s shoulder. “Because we are outcast my cyr’ika. Dar’Manda. They must ignore us. It’s Clan Law,” he tilted his son’s face up to look at him, “but I know that doesn’t make it any easier.” Jarek wanted to demand why when a glint of metal caught Myler’s attention. “What is that you have there?”

Jarek mentally stumbled at the sudden shift in subject. He’d almost forgotten what he had stuffed in his tunic only mere moments prior. For some reason, he hesitated. A part of him wanted to guard his recently acquired treasure. Perhaps sell it later or to barter passage off-world or even purchase a way into the Clan. The option seemed almost endless to his young mind.  He was also curious to see if he could unlock more of its secrets if there were any more to be had.

The lack of an aforementioned light seemed to indicate otherwise as well as an inner feeling that he’d have more luck beating it with a rock. Another part of him felt wrong for coveting it. It was after all taken from a dead sentient who’s entire being revolved around compassion and charity.

It has served its purpose, the voice whispered in the back of his mind once more. Jarek felt his decision was made and reached into his tunic. He withdrew the cube and deposited it into Myler’s outstretched hand.

The large warrior’s eyes widened at the sight of it. He rotated it to observe every angle before running his gloved fingers over the golden edges and across it dark blue faces. After a few minutes of examining the object he spoke.

“You found this in the cave?” He asked, possibly wondering if there was more to the story.

Knowing it would’ve done little good to lie, Jarek nodded. “On a dead Ikotochi. He must have fallen in years ago. He was clutching it when he finally died.”

“Was there anything else?”

Jarek shook his head. “No, My’Buir. Other than bones and what remained of his clothes, there was nothing.” He admitted to himself that it hadn’t occurred to him to search the rest of the corpse, but in hindsight, he didn’t relish the idea. Not that it crept him out, but rather it simply felt…wrong.

“Hmm,” Myler hummed as he mused over the artifact glancing between it, the hole, and back.

After a minute of silence broken only by the sounds of nature, Jarek finally had to ask, “Do you know what it is?” Myler shook his head but said nothing. “Should we keep it?” Myler shrugged.

“Artifacts of the old world could be dangerous,” Jarek felt his heart sink and he could just visualize Myler tossing the cube back in, being such a pragmatic man and all. “But they can also be quite valuable.” Jarek perked up at that.

Myler stood unclipping his helmet-buc’ey-from his belt. He placed the cube in his belt pouch before donning the helmet on. Like the various plates of his armored vest, the helmet was brown with streaks of green and black painted across it. Here and there the glint of the metal shown through where it had been dinged and scratched. The black “T” shaped visor completely obscured Myler’s face. In full Beskar’gam, blaster pistol on his hip, the older Mandalorian was just impressive as he was intimidating.

“We’ll see about swapping it at the next supply run,” he glanced down and Jarek couldn’t help but shiver inwardly at the anonymous black visor. “If you’re to become a hunter you’ll need proper gear.”

Jarek sputtered at the words and nearly tripped over himself as Myler started walking in the direction of their home. Had he heard him right? Did he mean to help him construct his very own Iron Skin? His own Beskar’gam?

“…and if you insist on running about in the wilds, you’d better learn how to survive in them,” Myler answered his son’s unasked question. Most of the children in the village wouldn’t begin their warrior training until they were eight or nine cycles old. It seemed his antics accelerated Myler’s timetable.

Jarek glanced back at the hole, now barely indistinguishable from the surrounding foliage. He thought of the lone Ikotochi, and how so long ago, like him, it had stumbled into the cavern. Although he had died in agony, his actions had reached across many years to affect Jarek’s own life…for the better. He was going to be a hunter…a warrior.

Thank you, he thought before turning and following his father.

A breeze whispered through the trees. It tickled the back of his neck causing him to shiver. Somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind he felt more than heard the reply.

May the Force be with you.