Star Wars: Mandalore
Legal Stuff: Lucasfilm, blah blah blah, I don't own, blah blah blah.
Pointless babble: This story may or may not follow parallel with the Star Wars Universe. No, I don't mean in such a way that it alters everything you know… I mean it in such a way that it alters everything you don't know… such as the development of characters that don't exist outside the Expanded Universe.
Prologue:
Millennia before the events of "The Phantom Menace"…
The transport was well on its course, traveling through the star blanketed sky at mid-speed. It was a human transport ship carrying five thousand passengers. It was also one of the first of the human's colony ships to be launched. The transport's captain was a man plainly known to the crew as Lyrr'va. Lyrr'va was well known for taking part in the construction of the transport and even inventing a working hyperspace system. For that, he took lots of pride. So much pride, In fact, that he would often boast the abilities of this new technological advance to the crew members. More often he did this to assure them of their safety, but others times he just found it nice to delight at his own achievements.
The arrogant captain walked down the ships main corridor, his eyes observing the conduct of his fellow crew. He sauntered from member to member, until stopping to gain the attention of one particular.
"You. How much longer until the ship makes the jump?" the captain inquired.
The officer raised his head, abit surprised, but informed. He replied, "Sir, shouldn't be much longer in fact I heard…"
His voice was interrupted by the crackling of the ships intercom, "Passengers. Prepare for the jump to lightspeed".
There was an immediate reaction of both excitement and fear throughout the ship. But no matter the feelings of the passengers, Lyrr'va proudly held a stern chin up. He watched from the main corridors window with a confident grin upon his face. He muttered under his breath as if the ship understood him, "Show them what you've got." And with that, the ship began to lurch forward. It began to rattle rapidly, and the once circular stars were now turning into thousands of white streaks. They began to surge forward with incredible speed.
The intercom echoed again, "The jump is now complete, you may now… wait… " it was cut with the silence of static. The ship began swerving slightly, going off course, throwing passengers out of their seats. Soon the transport was in full scale panic. And soon the ship would wander, at the speed of light, into unknown regions of the galaxy… its people forgotten.
That was centuries ago…
Chapter 1:
The armor-clad warrior lowered his rifle, stood, and then holstered it. He strode forward and leaned next to the unfortunate victim, checking for a pulse. After only a few moments he began motioning with a gloved hand. Soon enough more soldiers approached, one man lifted the body and carried him away. The others watched until, finally, the leader spoke.
"Report to the others. They may disclose their positions. We are done here." The voice was cold, bitter, emotionless, and serious.
Another soldier, removing his t-slit visored helmet began to argue, "Sir, you don't think we should further investigate the area for remnant forces?"
The leader turned, gazing the soldier over coldly before replying, "What remnant forces? We were assigned one man. His organization will now be overcome with the ally of fear. And putting fear in your opponent is much more a victory than death." He ended with a nod.
"Being merciful doesn't frighten anyone. ", he replied with a sneer.
"Tell that to him…" The leader pointed to body of the dead man, carried by a fellow comrade.
With another motion of his hand the soldiers filed out and began towards the outer city of Nar Shadda, where they had left their ship. "Move along soldiers. Shall we collect our pay?" the leader said.
The man dead was an active crimelord by the name Trigoth Ulajar. His organization was a unit of smugglers, thieves, and mercenaries who worked under the security of Nar Shadda's lower, inner-city. They endorsed burglarizing throughout the city, and anyone who tried to thwart their plans met a quick demise. Most plans to counter an attack from Trigoths men were disrupted due to "word of mouth" expulsion. Trigoth had many connections with those inside the city and so he received this kind of information quiet often. It was only when a city official bright enough decided to dispatch the mercenary group, the Mandalorians, that the job would get done.
The group's leader, Jaster Mereel, sent men to all parts of Nar Shadda, but it was Jaster himself that would encounter Trigoth and easily enough, remove him. Trigoth had just gone to the local cantina, and after having a drink, was on his way back to the inner-city. Jaster caught up with him first and, with very little blaster exchange, killed him. And now the job was done, Jaster and his men began to head back to their transport with which they would visit their employer for pay. Only one man didn't file in with the rest of the soliders, the rebellious and barbaric Vizsla.
Vizsla believed that Mandalorians should live by the old code, and obtain as much territory by brute force as fate would allow. Jaster, a reformed murdered and exiled journeyman protector, believed differently, and the soldiers were loyal to him. While Vizslas' personal opinion on what should be done didn't matter to Jaster, he was still of high rank, and equally skilled in comparison to Jaster. But Jaster, in all his charisma, would not be betrayed. Not without reason.
**************
The soliders boarded the ship. Everyone sat down and prepared for launch. Vizsla made sure to sit near to Jaster and not to anyones surprise, began to speak.
"You know, Opy're would have been honored and proud if we had decided to establish a garrison on Nar Shadda." He paused, watching Jasters returning expression.
"I said before, our assignment is completed. We are soldiers for hire, not Warlords, Vizsla." Jaster replied with a smug, unseen frown.
Jaster couldn't help but be mournful over Vizsla. Jaster saw such potential in him, but it was overridden by Vizslas failure to exceed past his hunger for power. Vizsla responded with sharp tongue.
"Soldiers for hire? How degrading to hear coming from a Mandalorian Commando… how degrading indeed." He shook his head mockingly.
"Despite what you may think, that is all we are. Aside to that, our funds would not secure the establishment of a military garrison." He made sure to note his last sentence with a pointing finger.
"And despite what you may think, Jaster, our funds are whatever we wish." Vizsla cut back.
"What are you implying?", Jaster said threateningly, "We just killed a man for his part in criminal acts against this planet. I will not become a hypocrite in my actions. Would you like to join the lower scum and resort to petty theft?" With that comment Vizsla sat, embarrassed as his comrades laughed lightly at Jasters' response.
The rest of the trip was quiet and uncomfortable. When they arrived they collected their pay and distributed it equally between each member. Vizsla always hated that. The distribution of equal credits. Normally, a high ranking officer would claim more to his name, but not Jaster. This created more favor for such a leader as Mereel, and less favor for someone such as Vizsla, who, in the past, openly announced if he were leader he would "take what he thought he deserved"… Jaster only thought he deserved the same as everyone else. This unbiased attitude might have preserved some resistance of a revolt against Mereel, but Vizsla knew that not everyone in the group agreed with Jaster. They were only too afraid to show it.
And as long as they were too afraid to show it, there was no chance Jaster would ever be challenged for leadership. Even though Jaster didn't solely follow the old code of Mandalore, he did follow the terms of leadership. If someone wishes to challenge the leader, he may. The battle cannot result in death, and the victor becomes the newly established leader. Vizsla had contemplated this challenge for a long time, but even he, through all his pride, knew Jaster held the bar slightly over him. But one day…. One day…
Legal Stuff: Lucasfilm, blah blah blah, I don't own, blah blah blah.
Pointless babble: This story may or may not follow parallel with the Star Wars Universe. No, I don't mean in such a way that it alters everything you know… I mean it in such a way that it alters everything you don't know… such as the development of characters that don't exist outside the Expanded Universe.
Prologue:
Millennia before the events of "The Phantom Menace"…
The transport was well on its course, traveling through the star blanketed sky at mid-speed. It was a human transport ship carrying five thousand passengers. It was also one of the first of the human's colony ships to be launched. The transport's captain was a man plainly known to the crew as Lyrr'va. Lyrr'va was well known for taking part in the construction of the transport and even inventing a working hyperspace system. For that, he took lots of pride. So much pride, In fact, that he would often boast the abilities of this new technological advance to the crew members. More often he did this to assure them of their safety, but others times he just found it nice to delight at his own achievements.
The arrogant captain walked down the ships main corridor, his eyes observing the conduct of his fellow crew. He sauntered from member to member, until stopping to gain the attention of one particular.
"You. How much longer until the ship makes the jump?" the captain inquired.
The officer raised his head, abit surprised, but informed. He replied, "Sir, shouldn't be much longer in fact I heard…"
His voice was interrupted by the crackling of the ships intercom, "Passengers. Prepare for the jump to lightspeed".
There was an immediate reaction of both excitement and fear throughout the ship. But no matter the feelings of the passengers, Lyrr'va proudly held a stern chin up. He watched from the main corridors window with a confident grin upon his face. He muttered under his breath as if the ship understood him, "Show them what you've got." And with that, the ship began to lurch forward. It began to rattle rapidly, and the once circular stars were now turning into thousands of white streaks. They began to surge forward with incredible speed.
The intercom echoed again, "The jump is now complete, you may now… wait… " it was cut with the silence of static. The ship began swerving slightly, going off course, throwing passengers out of their seats. Soon the transport was in full scale panic. And soon the ship would wander, at the speed of light, into unknown regions of the galaxy… its people forgotten.
That was centuries ago…
Chapter 1:
The armor-clad warrior lowered his rifle, stood, and then holstered it. He strode forward and leaned next to the unfortunate victim, checking for a pulse. After only a few moments he began motioning with a gloved hand. Soon enough more soldiers approached, one man lifted the body and carried him away. The others watched until, finally, the leader spoke.
"Report to the others. They may disclose their positions. We are done here." The voice was cold, bitter, emotionless, and serious.
Another soldier, removing his t-slit visored helmet began to argue, "Sir, you don't think we should further investigate the area for remnant forces?"
The leader turned, gazing the soldier over coldly before replying, "What remnant forces? We were assigned one man. His organization will now be overcome with the ally of fear. And putting fear in your opponent is much more a victory than death." He ended with a nod.
"Being merciful doesn't frighten anyone. ", he replied with a sneer.
"Tell that to him…" The leader pointed to body of the dead man, carried by a fellow comrade.
With another motion of his hand the soldiers filed out and began towards the outer city of Nar Shadda, where they had left their ship. "Move along soldiers. Shall we collect our pay?" the leader said.
The man dead was an active crimelord by the name Trigoth Ulajar. His organization was a unit of smugglers, thieves, and mercenaries who worked under the security of Nar Shadda's lower, inner-city. They endorsed burglarizing throughout the city, and anyone who tried to thwart their plans met a quick demise. Most plans to counter an attack from Trigoths men were disrupted due to "word of mouth" expulsion. Trigoth had many connections with those inside the city and so he received this kind of information quiet often. It was only when a city official bright enough decided to dispatch the mercenary group, the Mandalorians, that the job would get done.
The group's leader, Jaster Mereel, sent men to all parts of Nar Shadda, but it was Jaster himself that would encounter Trigoth and easily enough, remove him. Trigoth had just gone to the local cantina, and after having a drink, was on his way back to the inner-city. Jaster caught up with him first and, with very little blaster exchange, killed him. And now the job was done, Jaster and his men began to head back to their transport with which they would visit their employer for pay. Only one man didn't file in with the rest of the soliders, the rebellious and barbaric Vizsla.
Vizsla believed that Mandalorians should live by the old code, and obtain as much territory by brute force as fate would allow. Jaster, a reformed murdered and exiled journeyman protector, believed differently, and the soldiers were loyal to him. While Vizslas' personal opinion on what should be done didn't matter to Jaster, he was still of high rank, and equally skilled in comparison to Jaster. But Jaster, in all his charisma, would not be betrayed. Not without reason.
**************
The soliders boarded the ship. Everyone sat down and prepared for launch. Vizsla made sure to sit near to Jaster and not to anyones surprise, began to speak.
"You know, Opy're would have been honored and proud if we had decided to establish a garrison on Nar Shadda." He paused, watching Jasters returning expression.
"I said before, our assignment is completed. We are soldiers for hire, not Warlords, Vizsla." Jaster replied with a smug, unseen frown.
Jaster couldn't help but be mournful over Vizsla. Jaster saw such potential in him, but it was overridden by Vizslas failure to exceed past his hunger for power. Vizsla responded with sharp tongue.
"Soldiers for hire? How degrading to hear coming from a Mandalorian Commando… how degrading indeed." He shook his head mockingly.
"Despite what you may think, that is all we are. Aside to that, our funds would not secure the establishment of a military garrison." He made sure to note his last sentence with a pointing finger.
"And despite what you may think, Jaster, our funds are whatever we wish." Vizsla cut back.
"What are you implying?", Jaster said threateningly, "We just killed a man for his part in criminal acts against this planet. I will not become a hypocrite in my actions. Would you like to join the lower scum and resort to petty theft?" With that comment Vizsla sat, embarrassed as his comrades laughed lightly at Jasters' response.
The rest of the trip was quiet and uncomfortable. When they arrived they collected their pay and distributed it equally between each member. Vizsla always hated that. The distribution of equal credits. Normally, a high ranking officer would claim more to his name, but not Jaster. This created more favor for such a leader as Mereel, and less favor for someone such as Vizsla, who, in the past, openly announced if he were leader he would "take what he thought he deserved"… Jaster only thought he deserved the same as everyone else. This unbiased attitude might have preserved some resistance of a revolt against Mereel, but Vizsla knew that not everyone in the group agreed with Jaster. They were only too afraid to show it.
And as long as they were too afraid to show it, there was no chance Jaster would ever be challenged for leadership. Even though Jaster didn't solely follow the old code of Mandalore, he did follow the terms of leadership. If someone wishes to challenge the leader, he may. The battle cannot result in death, and the victor becomes the newly established leader. Vizsla had contemplated this challenge for a long time, but even he, through all his pride, knew Jaster held the bar slightly over him. But one day…. One day…