Today was a shitty day.
Scratch that.
Today was a shabla disaster.
After Mij contacted him about the older cadets coming in more injured than usual he had accepted Priest's assurance that it was due to a more advanced hand to hand drill he'd started them on. He'd told Mij to just let it be and now… now look where they were.
"I told you that hut'uun was abusing his position as a trainer!" The doctor hissed at him as they stormed through the blinding halls of Kamino.
"I shabla heard you the first time!" He snarled. "I'll handle it!"
"We'll look after the cadets, Mij. Jango can deal with that dar'manda Priest." Kal growled, not falling behind despite his old injury.
"He better handle it! These boys are our responsibility, I don't care what the shab the Kaminiise say! They're just ade!" Mij snapped.
Jango could feel the glare without looking. Even though Mij had married into the culture the man had taken it all to heart, even more than some of the traditional verde he'd hired. Jango still wasn't sure why he'd taken the offer in the first place, although it might have something to do with earning enough credits to track down the shabuir who'd killed his spouse.
On his other side he could feel Kal tense. "Mij!" He bellowed, startling the doctor. "I know. Trust me… I know." Considering Kal had adopted six of the clones as his sons, the Nulls who had been slated for termination early in their lives, he understood perfectly what was at stake here.
Both of them went quiet behind him and Jango bit back an aggravated sigh.
It was… difficult… to hide just how much he'd come to care for the ade. Especially the Alphas who he'd been training since they were knee high. They were Boba's ori'vode and they cared for him as much as they cared for each other. Already they had assimilated as much Mando'a as they could and were teaching it to the younger cadets whenever their training sessions crossed paths. He knew, just like Kal and Mij, that the ade were not just eyayah, echoes, like he'd first thought. Each of them had their own personality, their own soul, and he had sworn to do right by them.
But it was getting harder and harder to hold himself back every time he lost one of them to some hellish new criteria the Kaminiise had come up with. He'd had to harden his heart and slowly withdraw for fear that the scientists would cut him off from their 'product.' He had to remain professional as much as possible or he'd lose any leverage he had.
Stopping at the training room where he knew Priest had brought the cadets he glanced back at the other two. "We catch him in the act, I pull rank, and we take the shabuir down."
Both of them nodded in understanding and Jango palmed the door control, taking a deep breath to bellow; "what the fuck is going on in here?"
The sight that met his eyes was one he had never, in a million years, expected.
A Mando'ad he had never seen before stood from where they'd been crouched in front of the ade, turned on their heel, and karking dove for something on the floor. "Stay behind me!" They said in a deep voice that rumbled through their buy'ce. Jango's eyes fell on the long spear held in their expert grip and the defensive stance they were taking in front of the ade.
The beskar'gam they were wearing was unpainted, except for two triangles on their kom'rk. Pure beskar shone under the harsh lights of the training room and the intruder let out a low, protective, growl as they held their stance.
"Who the hell are you? What are you- is that shabla Priest?" Mij nearly babbled behind him, looking at something to the right of the fierce mando'ad who looked as if they'd just stepped out of an old carving of ancient warriors.
"Cadets, get away from them! They're an intruder!" Kal barked out a warning in Basic but none of the boys responded, looking as if they wanted to huddle together behind their new protector.
"Leave the ade alone. Your quarrel is with me." The mando'ad growled in Mando'a, their accent slightly rough but still understandable as they gripped the spear tighter in their gloved hands; ready and willing to fight for the clone cadets behind them.
Jango was shaken. Surely the mando'ad had noticed the ade were too close in appearance to be anything but… naturally occurring. Yet there they were, standing in a room with the corpse of a trainer now outed for abusing ade.
"Why are you protecting them?" It was the first thing that came to mind.
"Children are the future." They stated with conviction. "This is the Way."
Jango's breath caught in his throat.
The Creed. It was almost as old as the original texts Jaster had once used to create the codex he wanted all Mando'ade to follow. His buir had spoken of the old traditions in near awe, explaining that those who took the old creed onto themselves were blessed by the Manda, but were burdened by the strict tenets they adhered to.
They were also rumored to be jatnese be te jatnese- the best of the best. Even above and beyond the ori'rami'kade, the mando equivalent of special forces.
Jango knew that something had gone tits up, there should not be an ancient warrior in the middle of Kamino, and yet… this was an opportunity. With Priest dead they would need a replacement trainer, someone who would take care of the ade and not abuse their authority over them.
Someone who could teach them to be the best.
Reaching up to his buy'ce, he took off his helmet and held it under one arm. "Then we are not your enemy." He looked the mando'ad in the visor, letting them see the sincerity in his eyes and hear it in his voice. "My name is Jango Fett, House Mereel." If they truly were Creed bound they would understand the enormity of Jango exposing his face. It was a weakness, but also a way to show trust. "I think we need to sit down and have a little talk." He glanced over at Priest's corpse and swallowed down the urge to spit at the demagolka. "At the very least I have to thank you for taking out that trash."
They watched him warily for a moment before slowly lowering their spear, though Jango was pleased to see they didn't lower it entirely. "Fine. But I want a medic to check on the ade. Some of them are injured."
A triumphant grin crossed his face as he watched the ancient warrior. "That can be arranged."
As Mij tended to the ade from his medical bag the stranger, who just called themselves Beroya, hovered behind him like a mother nexu. The moment any of the ade looked remotely uncomfortable or in pain they immediately swooped in to comfort them, talking quietly and gently stroking hair or rubbing circles on tiny backs. The way they went from stalking predator to gentle buir was astonishing and Jango could barely keep his eyes off the ancient warrior.
"Alor!" Blinking he turned to regard Kal as the man scowled at him. "What are you thinking?"
Jango took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm thinking we hand over Priest's duties to them." He motioned toward the warrior, who was currently patting the head of one of the cadets and telling him how brave he was.
"You can't be serious?" Kal's eyes strayed to the warrior and his eyes narrowed before his gaze snapped back to Jango. "We don't even know how they got in, let alone the fact that they killed one of our own."
"Priest was a last minute hire and you know it." Jango growled. "If I could have found someone else I wouldn't have let him anywhere near the ade." He'd known about Priest's Kyr'tsad leanings but as long as the shabuir was doing his job properly there were no issues between them. Now he was lying dead in a training room, killed by what Jango was fairly certain was a spirit of Manda's vengeance come to rescue the ade.
"We haven't even vetted them! And you want to give them ade to train however they like?" Kal spat through clenched teeth.
"Do you know who the last person to talk about the Way was?" He could see Kal's brow wrinkle in confusion. "Jaster." Just saying the name made Jango feel raw around the edges. "It's almost as old as the Code. The only reason Jaster never used it was because it is a choice above and beyond swearing the Resol'nare." Kal's eyes widened in response and Jango nodded.
"What if it's all a con? Your buir couldn't have been the only one interested in ancient history." Jango nodded, conceding the point.
"So we'll sit them down and interrogate them. If we think they're a danger to the ade we take them out. Until then we give the ade extra study periods where they would have been working with Priest. But they can't fall behind, Skirata, you know what happens when they do."
Kal clenched his gloved hands until the leather creaked from the force.
If the cadets fell too far behind the entire batch of them would be killed as defective. Regardless of whether or not it was the fault of the cadets.
"Alright, Alor, I'll follow your lead on this." Kal finally agreed. "But don't think I didn't notice they're practically your walking wet dream. Don't let your other head get the better of you."
Jango let out a low sound of outrage, a flush of embarrassment crawling up his neck and to his ears. "How the shab do you know that!?" He practically squawked.
Kal burst into laughter, which startled the cadets and caught the attention of the Beroya.
They looked between Jango and Kal for a moment before going back to focusing on the ade.
Mando'a;
Shab, Shabla- Fuck, fucking.
Hut'uun- Coward.
Dar'manda- A state of no longer being Mandalorian. Not an outsider, but one who has lost their heritage, and so their identity and soul. They are regarded with absolute disgust by most traditional-minded Mandalorians.
Kaminiise- Kaminoans.
Verd, verde- Warrior, warriors.
Shabuir- Bastard.
Mando'ad, Mando'ade- Mandalorian, Mandalorians.
Buy'ce- Helmet.
Beskar'gam- Mandalorian iron-skin, Mandalorian armor.
Beskar- Mandalorian iron.
Kom'rk- Gauntlet.
Mando'a- Mandalorian language.
Beroya- Bounty Hunter.
Alor- Leader, chief, boss. Also used in place of Sir.