A long time ago in the shadows of a failing Republic…

There are four facets of life: Strength, Honor, Loyalty, and Death. To a Mandalorian, strength is life. The strong have the right to rule and conquer the weak. Defiance rather than capitulation is seen as giving one both spiritual strength and honor.

Honor is gained by fighting despite the odds. Victory brings honor. Even fighting and losing gives honor to the defeated for at least they acted. Far better to die honorably than to survive through dishonorable means.

Loyalty to one's clan is all. A Mandalorian must fight not only for his Mand'alor, but also for his clan. If one's actions does not honor their family, then they have no place in the clan. They become DAR'MANDA; to be without a soul.

Death is the final facet. Everyone dies. Not all truly live. When a warrior passes will it be with strength and honor or in cowardice? What legacy does the warrior leave?

Chapter 01: Life

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 seven cycles old. The same age he was. Unlike him, they all wore clean-cut 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. Though he'd done the best he could, Myler was no tailor. His 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 cropped short like the other boys, Jarek's hair was unkempt due to the shortage of 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. Often the children would complain, refuse, and try 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 one activity or another. One day it was fishing, another day it was walking through the glade picking herbs or washing/dying a batch of clothes.

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

This afternoon the young mother was having the children gather mija 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 mija you picked Gaegan. Kandosii!" She patted him on the shoulder ushering him back out to gather more. Jarek could see his proud smirk 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 biological father, he made it abundantly clear that Jarek was his son and he cared for him. 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 than alarmed. The mother was not so pleasant. The moment she'd turned her attention from another child she visibly jerked in alarm, her eyes widening in surprise.

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

It didn't come.

The mother blinked once before intentionally averting her gaze. Jarek's heart sank a little. Steeling himself, Jarek 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 they 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 the blonde boy named Gaegan. The boy glared at Jarek as if angered at his intrusion, or at his attempt to upstage him. The mother hastily guided Gaegan along casting Jarek only a scathing glance.

Jarek's vision blurred even as he continued to hold out the berries. He must've presented a pitiful sight 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 fallen behind. She shyly approached him, offering up an empathetic smile. Jarek tried to return it, feeling a slight warmth as his heart seemed to stop 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. Holding out the berries, he 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 spat 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.

Jarek's 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. The berries pulped within his tiny shaking fists, the juices dripping between his fingers. What could have been some of the most delicious mija was nothing more than a sticky mess.

Throwing the ruined berries to the ground, Jarek turned and ran. He sprinted back into the woods, back to the shadows that seemed to always welcome him like a cold embrace. It was a place where there was no shame in being an outcast because there was no one there to call him one.

"Jarek!" Somewhere in the distance, he heard his father call out to him. He ignored it, sprinting headlong into the shade of the canopy.

The sheer unfairness of it all welled within him. 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 born a dar'manda? Why did he have to be an outcast!?

His mind was so awash in his self-pity that the fog of wretchedness and rage blinded him to the forest around him. So much so that his feet strayed way off the path.

One moment he was running with utter abandon and the very next...Jarek 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 terror 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 reached out to slow or even stop his descent, but his grip found no purchase. Jarek tumbled and rolled down the tunnel grunting and gasping in pain as he plummeted.

He had been tumbling for what seemed like an eternity when once more he felt the ground fall away. Jarek cried out one last time before falling into darkness.

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. 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 him back to fall consciousness.

Once he regained his senses, Jarek 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 injury came into contact with the cold dank air. Fortunately, the wound wasn't serious, and 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'd be ok. Above him, out over the pool of water, he saw the light of the crevice that he'd fallen through. Hundreds of feet up and well beyond his reach. Cupping his hands around his mouth, Jarek shouted, "Father! Faaather!" Pausing he listened but heard nothing. He was either too deep or Myler was too far to hear.

He was alone with only his echoes and shame to keep him company.

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 ever saw him again-

-When he saw him again! Jarek couldn't afford to think otherwise. He had to get out. Keep moving forward, just as he'd been taught. Jarek wracked his young mind for the information Myler had imparted to him many times. He recalled that the many cisterns and the caves that connected them were extensive. One of them had to lead back to the surface.

The light from the overhead opening reflected off the water. It helped illuminate the cave just enough to make a 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.

The cave route connected to another cistern. That cistern connected to another route which leads to another cistern. The water level varied from nonexistent to waist level. Jarek only slowed to allow his eyesight to adjust to the changing light and be sure of his footing. The threat of "Cold-Shock" entered his mind but he had no way to stay warm other than to keep moving. His anger had long since been replaced by another baser 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 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 mouth of a cave 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 pillars and archways designed to support the 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 planet's native species, the Kroot, were the descendants of that civilization. Though their true origin mattered little, the warriors and hunters of the clans hardly ventured into the ruins mainly due to their instability.

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

With respect to his adoptive father, Jarek didn't believe the stories of ghosts. Even here in the supposed home of those spirits he still didn't. 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.

Fear etching its way into his mind he whispered aloud, "Is that...a body?"