What Came Before – Torian
Eternity isn't a one-way street; today effects yesterday as much as tomorrow. I heard an aruetyc saying once from a haryc b'aalyc vod lamenting the things he'd seen fighting for the Sith: history is written by the victors. Winning a battle today makes a murder yesterday suddenly a tactical elimination, part of the path to victory. Losing a battle turns a man from patriot to traitor.
Turns a boy into the traitor's son.
"Arue'tal." Curse, name, sentence, blight – the meaning changes with the speaker. This time it is spoken with a sneer, a summons growled out by superiors to dirt. Not bothering to speak, I turn to look at the ruus'alor, awaiting her pleasure with respectful silence. Most of the time, she ignores me, just like the others. Invisible, until I dirty her boots.
Flames dance in the pit behind her, making a halo of the gold braids wrapped around her head and casting her features into dramatic shadows. Is she beautiful? I don't know; the other men of the traat'aliit seem to think so, but I stopped looking for a wife years ago.
No one wants the traitor's son.
"You're not my problem anymore, arue'tal." I nod, taking her meaning. That's the way it goes, bounced from one traat'aliit to another, camaraderie fleeting or non-existent, the only true vode those I knew as children who share the same curse. No home, no clan. Viciously, almost like she wishes it was a knife, the sergeant thrusts a datapad into my belly, the metallic outer case clanging harshly against my beskar'gam. "Report to ruus'alor Jogo on Dromund Kaas. Mand'alor orders it." Something else is said before she turns to march away, some insult or challenge, but I don't listen.
Mand'alor orders it.
Seventeen years I've been waiting to hear those words, but, in this moment, I don't understand. Is it punishment, or purpose? Is now the moment that changes eternity?
Almost unconsciously, I close my left hand into a fist, ejecting the gauntlet blade with a sharp snick. Once, this gauntlet belonged to another man. A clan leader, a father, good friend of Mandalore. But then a moment came, and the good man was no more. In his place stood only a traitor. Of the things that were my father's, this is the only piece I have willingly kept. His name is a brand, his blood as it flows through my veins a curse. But this, a simple weapon left behind in the haste of escape, this is an instrument of destiny.
Eternity isn't a one-way street; in the right hands, at the right moment, this blade can change the past. No more the arue'tal, but finally a man with honor. A man who doesn't have to fear his name.
Opening my fist to pop the blade back into place, I take one last look at the fire, the ruus'alor's gold halo still apparent even in the darkness. The next time we meet, she may finally call me by my name. Maybe. My things are waiting by my bedroll, small, light, ready to move. Singing breaks out beside the pit as I walk away, the words echoing deep in my soul, a dark anthem of purpose.
Motir ca'tra nau tracinya.
Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a. Taung!
Motir ca'tra nau tracinya.
Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a.
Aruetyc runi'la solus cet o'r prudii an.
Motir ca'tra nau tracinya.
Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a.
Aruetyc runi'la solus cet o'r.
Motir ca'tra nau tracinya.
Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a.
Aruetyc runi'la trattok'o.
Sa kyr'am nau tracyn kad, Vode an!
Motir ca'tra nau tracinya. Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a. Taung!
Bal kote, darasuum kote,
Jorso'ran kando a tome.
Sa kyr'am nau tracyn kad, Vode an.*
*Those who stand before us light the night sky in flame.
Our vengeance burns brighter still. Taung!
Those who stand before us light the night sky in flame.
Our vengeance burns brighter still.
Every last traitorous soul shall kneel in our shadow.
Those who stand before us light the night sky in flame.
Our vengeance burns brighter still.
Every last traitorous soul shall kneel.
Those who stand before us light the night sky in flame.
Our vengeance burns brighter still.
Every last traitorous soul shall fall.
Forged like the saber in the fires of death, Brothers All!
Those who stand before us light the night sky in flame.
Our vengeance burns brighter still. Taung!
And glory, eternal glory, we shall bear its weight together.
Forged like the saber in the fires of death, Brothers All.
A/N: Standard "I don't own a damn thing" disclaimer. Lyrics for "Gra'tua Cuun" by Jesse Harlin from the Republic Commando soundtrack.
