Star Wars: Mandalore's Wrath

Prologue: Beginnings

Life was Enjoyable in clan Agol- ka'oa'yr, but it was tough. As children we had to learn to survive at a young age. We are taught that our fathers and mothers were our brothers and sisters, and, while we must respect them as our elders and obey them as such, are free to do as we please so long as it is within the elder's code of laws. We are taught to forge our own weapons and armor at the blade-smith and it is said that a mandalorian child learns to hold a blaster before he can even walk. Every day we trained, honing our skills with our blasters and blades for the day we became warriors. But there was one thing the clan leader, our fathers, and our mentors could not teach us. Grayagr, Brotherhood, the very thing that holds our clan together. Trust in our Vode. This is something we learned ourselves, through hardship and war. And that, friend, is what this tale is about. Yes, it may be true you do not know me, but I know you. I can see through your eyes, as you will see through mine. Whether or not you are in need of this tale or not is not for me to say. Now, dear reader, I will leave you to read the story of my life, and I will return when you have finished. Until then, I look forward to revealing my fate to you as you continue to read my story.

It was a clear, crisp spring day. Children played in the fields, the militia trained, and women baked bread for the clan. The smell from the ovens was heavenly. The wheat, the spices, all the ingredients mixing together into one thing. The kitchen was my favorite place to be, and I was made fun of for this by the other kids when I was young. They would soon regret this. When I reach age 5, my combat training began. In one year, I mastered all basic level one forms of Teräs Käsi, and took the life of a young member of clan Visla when he and 4 others came to loot our homes while we were sleeping. There hadn't been a burglary since that day. Also, in the same amount of time, I learned how to bake cakes and roast boar. The other boys called me a crazy wamprat, but I didn't mind. I was hitting on a hill when I heard the voice of a close friend, A'den, calling out to me. "Hey! Kel! Come on and grad your slug rifle! Me and boys are going hawk hunting'!" he said in his golden voice. A'den was 4 years older than me, and was already set to marry a girl in two more. Being the oldest boy in the clan, he had authority over us the younger children. However, thing weren't always this way. Before A'den came of along, a jerk named Kalo Hren was oldest, and he abused his position of power and treated us like slaves. Then A'den came in, adopted into the clan when he father married a member of our clan. When he first saw the jerk giving us a daily beating, he leaped on his shebs and beat him into submission. The elders were ready to punish Kalo's assaulter, when we all spoke out and told them of the bully's treatment of his vode, and Kalo was sentenced one year's banishment from the clan, but his ava'bir of a father left the clan with him, enraged with his son's punishment, and too proud to admit his son's wrong doing. Neither of them had been seen since. For his brave actions and the fact he was oldest, A'den was accepted by us to be our mentor and Vod o'r ayahada, "Brother in charge". A'den taught us how to do things like make bows and arrows, sing "Rage of the shadow warriors", and make MOC armor out of wood. His taught me how to fight with a sword (training sword, of course) , and how to cook meat over a fire, as well as his top-secret guide on how to be a "Lady-Killer". He was fun, as well as cocky, with a good heart and a warrior's soul. I picked up my rifle from off the ground (I kept it handy, as Death Watch activity was on the rise) and fallowed him into the fields a good 2 miles from the village to meet the gang. On the way, we stopped under a tree to share a honey bun, when we heard a rifle crack and rushed for our weapons. We scanned the tree line for any sights of movement. This was silent… and suddenly I heard step from behind me. "YAH!" ,the figure screeched, as it leapt towards me. A'den cocked his gun and aimed, trigger squeezed. BANG! "Whoa! Hold your fire, A'den!", a female voice spoke out. "Saris Uhta!", I screamed, " Don't do that! You scared me!" "Is that so?", Saris said in a sweet, innocent voice, "Hi Kello Torin." "HEY! Its Kel!", I said in objection. Saris was my "Girlfriend" , so to speak. I care for her, but I didn't like-like her. She was funny and clever, and was always playing pranks and painting the walls with her art. The first time I noticed her was when I caught her adding hearts and girly colors to my designs for the armor I would build when I got old enough. I chased her and got pinned at the bottom of a hill. Things kind of kicked off from there. "You guys mind if I tag along?", she asked, "I brought my gun and I need feathers for my helmet. " You got a helm?", A'den asked, puzzled. "Not quite, but I'm building it. Dad said it should be finished in a few weeks if I keep working on It.", she answered. "Well," , A'den said, " I'd like to see this helmet when it's finished. In the meantime, grab your gun and let's head out, the gang in waiting for us." After a 30 minute race that ended in Saris kicking our butts, we made it to the field near the edge of the woods were we went to shoot down birds, where we met up with the other boys in the tribe. "Hey, Kello, cousin!", Ferro Cort said, "Fancy a turkey shoot?" He did stuff like this to me ALL the time. Ferro was the con in the village, the guy who knows how to get things. The Militia often came to him to ask witch city had more of what they needed at the lowest price. He's always on his holo-computer, check rises and falls in the stock markets and researched what things cost from lowest to highest, then highest to lowest. He was a smart guy, and he claims to be the best shot in the village. While I hate to admit it, this is true. Some of the younger kids though he could pin a fly to a tree with a sewing needle at 50 yards away, without killing it. That, however, was not true, but it didn't stop him from trying. I sat down on the ground, waiting for a bird to come by so I could shoot it.

3 hours later

BANG! "That's another one!", I said, watching my 19th bird fall out of the sky with a thud. Saris managed 6 birds, A'den shot down 11, and Ferro dominated with 22 birds. "Well, that's enough for today. We'll come back in a few weeks. That Should give the birds enough time to return to the area.", A'den announced as he picked up his kills, each bird neatly tied together by the feet. "Yeah," Ferro added, "and besides, we have enough meat to feed the village for 3 week." "He's got a point.", I said in agreement. I picked up my catch and joined A'den and Saris. The others fallowed close behind, talking and debating witch of them was the better shot. As we got closer to the village, we herd the Militia's drums, calling the men to arms. The skies turned red, the clouds an orange shade. The air smelt of sulfur, and the landscape east of the village burned. Over the horizon, the Death Watch's flew, and a Colum of men could be seen. But then, they split into two masses of men, and the Black banner of death flew clearly. The Marauders, a terrorist group allied with the Death Watch, but they held on to the old ways. A grand amount of horns and war-drum stood at the foot of the hill, and Hundreds of men marched and the red flag, dyed in blood, was raised as a warning… no mercy. And at the shot of a flare, a glorious hum of was played, Gra'tua Cuun, 'Our Vengeance', and yet in this terror, not even we, Descendants of the Taung , could understand Mandalore's wrath (Author's Note [A.N] : Ok, I have music to go along with different parts of this story. Click this link to the music for this part watch?v=t6gKLk-5QPw )