chapter 4
A lone Mandalorian walked through the large compound, a viroblade in hand. He'd long-since dismissed his soldiers once they reached a small moon, Dxun, and now traveled to meet his leader. He passed by the guards as the doors opened and faced another armored man. His shell was a silverish hue, and his helmet lay near his chair. This was no lowly foot soldier; he was Mandalore the Ultimate. His very presence commanded the respect of every Mandalorian warrior and this one was no exception. He saluted his leader and awaited his orders.
"What happened down there, Canderous?" Mandalore asked.
The young Mandalorian sheded his helmet, his short wet hair stuck to his brow. "It appears the Jedi are more than we thought they were, Mandalore. Their skill took us completely by surprise. They were willing to sacrifice everyone rather than allow us to stay on their ship."
"Interesting tactic," Mandalore spoke. "What about the Republic soldiers?"
"No match for us. Neither were the colonists. Those that were useful were taken to our ship. They will serve the Mandalorian ranks well. " Canderous stopped, consumed by his anger. This had been the first skirmish he had ever lost. "I have failed you Mandalore. I should have anticipated the attack of the Jedi."
"Perhaps, but you did gather useful information for us. You served your clan well, Canderous, and there is no honor lost in a battle that brings back knowledge."
"Yes, Mandalore." Canderous saluted again and spoke with new-found determination. "I will see to the recruits. They will be ready by our next battle."
"I trust you to do just that, old friend." That said, Canderous left in search of his "new recruits", the people that had been captured from the Traveler. For all of their vaunted superiority, the Republic knew nothing about how to treat their citizens. They breeded weakness and dependency into their society, raising up leaders that only catered to that weakness. They argued in their halls about trading rights, currency, and the comforts of life instead of training to protect life itself. And when any problem came upon these already weakened members of society, they cried out for soldiers, trained under that same weakness, to assist them. That was why the Republic was weak; that was why the Mandalorians would win.
Canderous made a stop at his quarters before meeting the recruits. He took off his armor and changed into a sleeveless top, pants and combat boots. He'd done this before and had found that the sight of a true Mandalorian without the combat armor was the most effective way to indoctrinate recruits. He brought no weapons with him as he left the room; he wanted them to know that there was no way to escape from them. Even if they did, there was nowhere to run.
He scanned the room as he entered it. There before him were 50 men women and children, ranging from young to old, fit to unfit, privileged to poor. It would become his job to train them for various positions in the Mandalorian ranks before the next major skirmish. Some would become technicians, some armor specialist, some foot soldiers and suppliers. He saw enormous potential in this room. But first, they had to be broken. The adults were already chained by Republic weakness and would find it very hard to convert into Mandalorian soldiers. They would find their usefulness at the Mandalorian bases seeing to the needs of the true warriors; they'd be less dangerous that way. The children, however, were different. Mandalorian society always had a special place of honor for its children. They were the future of the clans; this position demanded the careful and skilled had of respect. They would not be cheated out of their strength here. They would not be weakened by sympathy or compassion. They would be molded and shaped to harness their greatest strengths. They would be trained as suppliers, learning how to survive under the Mandalorian Code. And after years of training, a precious few of them would perhaps be able to become warriors and earn honor for themselves. In short, they would be given an opportunity to become a part of the Mandalorian Clans.
He stood in front of the people stone-faced. "Welcome to the clans of Mandalore," his voice boomed. "Forget your old names, your old lives, your old homes. You are dead to the Republic now. There will be no great crusades on your behalf, no great rescue. No one's coming. Like it or not, you're home now."