STAR WARS
MANDALORIAN COMMANDO
FAMILY BONDS
Chapter 1
Kyrimorut, Mandalore/ 16 BBY/ 3 years after Contingency Order: 66
With a scream the Z-10D starfighter soared to the dark lush planet ahead; just seconds ago breaking from the stream of Hyperspace. The engines in the rear of the triangular structure flared from the sudden change of flow of power, easing on its hot red glow as it curved through its familiar path in the vacuum of space. The starfighter broke atmosphere with ease and into a haze of heavy cloud cover. Walon Vau congratulated himself with a sigh of relief, it was no mystery on whether or not the Empire was anxious to seize the planet Mandalore; the mystery was when. He knew probes and scout parties were being dispatched before the initial assault and though the veteran Mandalorian never shied from a fight, at the moment, staying inconspicuous was valuable; for more than just himself. Walon's hard, sunken face was pale, making his golden eyes to shine warmly as his crisp narrow lips breached, allowing his sharp exhale through. Vau navigated his sleek starfighter through a heavy storm of snowfall to an area encased by a jagged structure of walls, ridged with countless entangling clusters of Veshok trees. Off to the right stretched a lake which threatened to freeze over. The sudden clearing between the body of water and forest rolled drastically like a grassy hill, now covered in snow. Walon directed his ship at the foot of the hill, hastily landing outside of the large cavernous, metal hangar. The howl from the storm eased into his hearing as the three engines of his ship died and the cockpit floor opened, lowering the cradle. In a stressful rush, he hadn't waited for the cradle to lower all the way, pushing off the seat and jogging straight to the hill. Dug in the ground was an entry with a solid metal door. Walon approached it quickly, feeling the shove from the tip of a blaster pistol on the back of his helmeted head.
"Are you serious, boy?" Vau growled in disgust. He turned without care of being under blaster point. From behind his helmet, he scowled at the Mandalorian wearing green and red colored plating. The former Null ARC, Kom'rk retracted slightly though refused to drop his defenses, even after recognizing Walon Vau's black armor.
"Sorry Sergeant Vau," he replied with the familiar gruff voice of the Clones, finally lowering his blaster. "Can't be too careful."
"I'm not disappointed you seized me, I'm disappointed you didn't shoot as soon as I got out of my ship," Vau criticized with a dignified, superior, yet condescending tone. "Hadn't Kal taught you anything?" Slightly stunned by the response, Kom'rk stepped back, tilting his head as he watched the Mandalorian in sleek black armor.
"I notice you didn't follow procedure," Kom'rk said.
"I'm in a hurry here," Walon explained as he keyed in the pass code to enter the homestead. As the door hissed open and without diverting his attention, Walon called back to the Mandalorian behind him. "As you were soldier." The door behind him closed as he entered the threshold and walked briskly on the wooden floor of the haven known as Kyrimorut. He didn't take more than five steps before he heard raspy breathing and the tap of six feet flying down the corridor. Tongue flapping freely and tail wagging sporadically with folds of excess skin disturbed by the creature's burst of muscle movement, Lord Mirdalan charged down the hall. The Strill leapt clear to his chest, where Vau caught his beloved pet. Lord Mirdalan enthusiastically licked the Mandalorian's helmet. "Hello Mird," he said affectionately as he put the Strill back down on its feet. He emerged into a large round central room carpeted by weaved ropes and filled with wooden furniture with Mird proudly at his side, just as it should be. First to catch his gaze was a woman holding an infant in her arms seated across from a Twi'lek woman. Behind them was a bustle of movement with very familiar faces carrying cargo through an open hatch in the floor. Recognizing the wives of few of the former special forces Clones, Walon grinned. The woman holding the chestnut-haired baby giggled as Walon emerged into the living room. Parja's deep blue gaze observed him warmly.
"Thought it was you Walon, what brings you?" she asked.
"Business, he replied stiffly as he removed his helmet and held it at his side, revealing grin he just couldn't suppress. The last he saw Parja Skirata, the wife of Fi Skirata, she was only expecting their first child. Though Fi was of Omega Squad and had been a trainee of his trusted accomplice Kal Skirata, any shine of new life brought hope back to these years of darkness. The baby squirmed slightly in her arms, eyes squeezed shut tightly; already the child looked very much like his mother. Across from Parja, Laseema, the wife of Atin, acknowledged him though not without disdain. Walon briskly nodded her direction before moving on. Surrounding the dome-like infrastructure of the homestead were many other dome-like rooms, serving either as homely functions or separate dwellings for each family within the clan. In the center, a blazing, open fire pit. As Walon continued down to the other end of the living room, he passed a tall woman with blonde hair calling after a young boy who was running through the hall.
"Hovan! You settle down right now!" she chastised before turning to face Walon. "Walon, what a surprise!" she beamed.
"Yes, where is Kal, Besany?" he inquired. The wife of the prominent leader of the Null ARCs, Ordo, hefted the crate with her knee as she spoke.
"Just down the hall in the lab," she replied then without another word continued. He took no offense of her shrewdness, he was used to the treatment amongst the wives. Walon looked down to his Strill.
"Mird, stay," Walon commanded. The Strill plopped down onto its rear as it whined briefly. Walon smiled at his beloved pet and bent over to ruffle its head. Mird let its tongue hang out happily then Walon walked down the rear hallway. Following her directions he navigated to the rear of the homestead. Upon entering the bright atmosphere of the lab, he saw six figures inside surrounding a central workstation. The first to take notice was a clone armored in a dark toned maroon of the Mandalorian Beskar with a grey and red kama girded around his waist; a reminder to all around him his commanding stature. Turning his head, Vau saw his profile and noticed the streaks of grey in his black hair, he was Ordo. Ordo lightly tapped one of the Mandalorians wearing sand colored armor. A hard faced man with severely grey hair and striking blue eyes, wearing a long, brown, non sleeved coat turned to see Walon in the doorway. His break of attention inspired the rest of the room to follow his gaze. Kal Skirata, was a warm hearted Mandalorian with his own rough edges. It was too much of a stretch for the two to call each other friends as they frequently came to disagree about many things, though either would trust the other with their lives in a heartbeat.
"It's about time you showed, I sent that message a year ago," he shot without hostility.
"I've been busy," Walon replied. Ordo scoffed smugly without thought. Walon shot him a glare before returning focus on Kal.
"Yes, well so has Emperor Palpatine." Walon frowned. "An agreement has been made. The clan leaders have signed over land for a garrison base," Skiratta said with disdain.
"What?" exclaimed Walon. "Feirfek, when did this happen?"
"A year ago, when I contacted you," Skiratta emphasized sharply. Walon knew what this meant. Of course he knew sooner or later the Empire would muscle in on Mandalore but it seemed that now it was coming without resistance. For a clan full of fugitives, this would not bode well.
Surrounding the Mandalorian were faces he knew as they were common dwellers of Clan Skirata many of which were those exact fugitives. Mij Gilamar, the second Mandalorian in sand colored armor stood behind the workstation, observing medical displays. Next to him was a woman wearing a long white tunic reaching down to her ankles and sporting a bizarre display of black and blue hair laced with streaks of red. Beside her was a young, ginger haired female wearing the traditional robes of the now extinct Jedi. Knowing of Kal's dislike of Jedi, he was surprised the young woman was still allowed sanctum in Kyrimorut. Still even more puzzling to him was sighting the White skinned, gangly, smooth, graceful creature who looked longingly at a collection of four, occupied bacta tanks located to the far left of the lab. The Kaminoan he knew to be the Jedi, Kina Ha was an embodiment of two entities the Mandalorian, Kal Skirata hated. Returning his focus to Kal, Walon stepped deeper inside the lab. "So you have it," he stated.
"Yes," Kal replied. We've treated most of them already. The accelerated aging syndrome is no longer a problem."
"Still left its mark," Ordo grumbled bitterly, rubbing at his grey streaked hair. Walon gave him no mind.
"There's a catch though," Kal said. Waiting for him to elaborate, Walon listened intently. "Instead of me trying to explain it, I'll leave it to the doc," he said, motioning over to the bizarre haired woman. Dr. Ovolot Quail Uthan was very slim, and pale with an almost frail appearance which gave her an almost uncanny resemblance of a Kaminoan. Despite the rather pointed appearance of her face, she held her own beautiful elegance which had seemed to fade in her years at Kyrimorut. She led Walon to the four bacta tanks as she spoke.
"The age acceleration is a result of an adjustment in the Clones' genetic coding," the doctor explained.
"I know that part already," Walon muttered as he stalked behind her with his hands clasped behind his back in a dignified manner. Uthan paused and shifted slightly under the intimidation of Walon Vau.
"Right," she sighed and regained her train of thought. "As you know then, a human child takes a minimum of nine months to develop before birth and in that time-"
"The genetic coding shapes the baby; I know that part too," Walon interrupted impatiently. Uthan gasped in annoyance before continuing nearly scowling at him.
"Our companion here, Kina Ha," she said motioning to the Kaminoan Jedi, "has been alive for more than three thousand years due to a genetic alteration. Using her genetic material, I was able to synthesize a compound that will cancel the accelerated growth process, in fact it will actually expand their life." Walon stood before one of the occupied bacta tanks. Inside submerged in a red liquid were four Clones. Walon immediately recognized the former Omega Squad Commando, Atin by the gruesome scar reaching from above his right eye down across his cheek ending at his upper lip, a mark left by the veteran Mandalorian himself. "Our process requires submersion in the solution which will seep through the membrane and change their genetics." Walon glanced over skeptically.
"And it works?"
"Ask Ordo here," Skirata replied, standing behind him. Walon looked the former Null ARC up and down.
"Still kicking and feeling better than ever," he replied with a grin. Walon looked back to Skirata with a blank face.
"Who's been treated so far?" Skirata cleared his throat before answering.
"All of them. Most had left after being treated. The few still here are serving for security," Skirata said.
"Yes I'm aware of your security," Walon grumbled. "Do us all a favor and get someone out there that doesn't hesitate," he mused dryly. Skirata ignored his comment, returning his gaze to the four tanks rested in braces on their backs. "So how much longer for the process to work?" Walon inquired. The Mandalorian surgeon, Mij Gilamar stepped forward with his own noble manner but with a nasty scowl; unlike Skirata, he never liked Walon.
"Just as Doctor Uthan explained, natural genetic encoding takes a minimum of nine months," he answered briskly.
"Fierfek," Walon swore. "Are you telling me it takes nine months?" he demanded impatiently.
"Five, actually," Skirata replied. "Fi, Atin, Mereel and A'den will be treated in four months from now."
"And not a moment too soon," Ordo blurted. "We'll be gone just before the Empire grows the balls to invade." Walon shook his head indignantly.
"No, you can't leave just yet," he retorted. Eyes all about the room fixed on the veteran Mandalorian.
"Why's that?" Skirata inferred. Walon bore his stare on his comrade.
"There are others," he answered grimly. Skirata sighed and approached his fellow veteran.
"Walon," he said consolingly. "We can't help Delta Squad," he said sincerely. "You and I both know, they are far too deep in the Empire." Walon's stare was unwavering as he spoke strongly.
"Not all of them."
