A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...
A blind Veknoid guides a young Human in the ways of the Force.
”Focus young one,” Master Zao says to you as you sit cross legged meditating. The delicious smell of the soup he is cooking for the both of you is distracting, as is the cold air wafting through your tent. The winter weather of your homeworld of Graath is distracting when not in the comfort of your home only miles away.
You wonder why your parents asked this ‘Master’ Zao to take you into the forest near your home. What is he a ‘Master’ of? Why did they show him such respect? Being a Noble of Graath, you have rarely seen your parents defer to others. They are usually the ones giving the direction, but with this one, they listened and even obeyed. The only thing your parents said was that he could help you understand yourself.
You attempt to do as you are told, showing him the same respect your parents gave him.
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Ansil pretended to be meditating.
The pungent smell of the strange ingredients cooking nearby was surprisingly pleasant, unlike anything he'd ever had in all the Houses of Harbright, which as far as he felt, tended to be traditional boring Coruscant cuisine. The more prominent thought in his mind was the repeated scene from a few days ago, when his parents and his aunt waved to him from the cruiser's window as it lifted away.
His aunt, Selnia, was virtually a celebrity from his perspective; young, adventurous and attracted lots of respect from the inter-families for whatever reasons. Although it was ultimately his choice, it was she who approached his parents and offered them guidance into manhood; one path continues his military school and one day, an officer in the Galactic Republic; the other, something different and more..."civilized". Ansil's answer was firmly, "Do I have to?".
When Zao nudges him back into his studies...
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BL-U6, designated “Blue 6” by added markings, stands outside the droid maintenance bay, wondering how he got there, and what he was supposed to be doing. Everything before the doors behind him is a blank. His history deleted. His purpose unknown...
At fifteen years old, Ansil was slightly smaller than most human boys of his age. He stood firmly at 1.5 meters with a soft physique, slender with pliant potential. His boyish charm came through his mousy brown hair, beryl eyes and an inquisitive frown; however, the gentle features of his face, almost girl-like, made him look more pouty than rebellious. He still wears the simple two-piece mesh suit which he arrived in - having been surprised that the baggage his parents had packed for him didn't contain much, in fact, nothing at all.
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Young Brophin is already a bit of a hulk, though still lean in his youth. He has always been larger than others, always aware of his surroundings and practising his movements carefully to attain the precise coordination he has now.
Brophin finishes polishing the red vibration absorbing lacquer, bringing a new gleam to the centuries-old mandalorian armor passed down through his family. "Soon, I shall be worthy," he thinks to himself. He tests the fit.
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The new lacquer scuffs as the armor flops on Brophin, almost begging to be put back in storage. He will not be worthy of his ancestral legacy today.
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"Well Master Zao?, Ansil says while keeping his eyes shut in the fake meditation, "Are we playing this game or what?"
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The droid looks at its metal hands, trying to recall its programming. It’s purpose. Where was its master? Past its hands a puddle reflects its features. It automatically scans its database and recovers the appropriate data. Model type HK-67. A prototype created on Mustafar. Decommissioned for production flaws. Replaced by HK-77 models.
”Curious.” The droid says, the word sounding like an electronic radio signal bouncing around an echo chamber.
The image of the forests of Graath and Master Zao, your earliest teacher of the Jedi Arts, fades from your powerful mind. The present slowly reasserts itself and is replaced by Master Yoda who stands before you in the Master’s Council Chamber. The tranquil feeling of the northern forest of Graath is replaced by the growing anxiety rippling through the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.
You remember where and who you are now. You are aged 17 and now a Senior Padawan of the Jedi Order. You remember how you were trained on Graath by Master Zao for a year, and then sent to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant to formalize your Training. Master Zao felt that the Force was calling you there and sent you immediately. Upon your arrival, Master Yoda himself took you for his Padawan.
”Powerful you are becoming young Harbright. Abilities you have, that I have never seen.”
Master Yoda’s lips curl up in deep thought as he rumbles a sigh. ”Force Sight this is. See details in other places, you can. Only one other had this power. A Knight, of the Old Republic.”
Yoda turns to you and stretches out his feelings. His genuine concern for you is clearly evident in the Force. ”How feel you young one?”
”You there! BL-U6! Stop and return to your station! You are not authorized to leave the Facility!”
A man screams at you from the 3rd floor of the building you stand outside of. Your eyes immediately zoom in, closing on the man’s face.
The man has a look of the utmost importance as he disappears from the ledge. Moments later, an alarm begins to sound throughout the facility.
”Brophin,” comes the voice of your mentor, Kal Skirata, over your comm device. ”Get up to Training Bay Seven evaar’la burc’ya. Time for your next lesson.”
You put your families ancient armor away quickly, knowing that Kal’buir as most of the Clones call him, will most likely know whether you hustled to obey his order or not. Papa Kal, as it translates into galactic common, is a patient and caring man, but he is a senior Mandolorian Drill Instructor for the Grand Army of the Republic after all. Displeasing him could end with you scrubbing Clone toilets for days on end.
You move quickly through the Clone barracks, passing troopers and commandos alike. The Clones are ever training and preparing ceaselessly for the Clone Wars which have torn the Galaxy apart for years. As you pass them you think how lucky you are to have been born Mandolorian. The life of a standard Clone seems as dynamic as that of a Battle Droid of the Separatists at times. Your destiny is along a different path then theirs. You hope that today’s lessons in the ways of the ancient Mandolorians will be weapons training, history, or Mando’a Language Skills.
You’ve apprenticed with Kal’buir ever since the current Mandalore, Jango Fett, brought your people in to train the Clones of the GAR. The Senior Mandolorians have all watched out for you since Jango died years ago, and no one more-so then Kal Skirata. It has been one of the greatest honors to be apprenticed to one such as Kal’buir. His work with the Null Class ARC Troopers of Omega Squad has been nothing short of legendary.
You reach the Training Bay and see Kal Skirata standing in his worn armor waiting for you, a look of deep thought splayed clearly across his face. He looks out of the upper story window and down onto the field grounds where the bulk of the Clone Troopers are training.
Not breaking his gaze he says, ”What does it mean to be Mandolorian to you Brophin? Do you stand with the new ways of Duchess Satine and her desire to rally all Mandolorians back to Mandalore? Or do you stand with the ancient ways of Mandalore the Ultimate, and his example that Mandolorian’s are the most powerful crusaders of the Galaxy?”
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Blue 6 studies the yelling man, his circuits taking a second to register that he is the subject of the man’s ire. His finger gives an involuntary twitch. He doesn’t remember the man, or a work station, but his programming returns an “error” message when he considers returning through the door. His head swivels about, rapidly processing other routes before selecting one and stepping into a swift run that takes him rapidly away from the mystery behind him.
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Training with Master Zao went by in an instant. At first Ansil thought the Veknoid was crazy, a thought which quickly turned to respect when the blind master took on a hunting pack of nexu with nothing but rocks. Zao wasn't lazy and had expected much of him in physical and mental training. Within two years on Graath, the uncoordinated playful kid had changed to a prepare young adult, just passed the threshold of boyhood.
His lack of external experience though was evident, as he answers with unpondered ernest and slight confusion, ”I feel fine, Master”, looking out curiously at the Coruscant sky traffic, This must be a trick question.
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Brophin gazes out to nothing as he relives the tales of Mandalorian glory told through the ages. "The Dutchess is wise, and honorable, and wrong. Even if the Mandalorians sought not to conquer the galaxy, but to share its wonders with others, this is not achieved by pressing our bellies directly upon the gundark's claw. Mandalore itself is burnt. We must look to Concord Dawn, and on to other worlds, to restore the power of the clans."
BL-U6, you wander the streets of lower Coruscant, keeping your scanners active for any potential pursuit. The myriad of lights, sounds, and lifeforms would be overwhelming were your computerized brain unable to run hundreds of thousands of computations per minute.
”Good my Apprentice. A powerful ability you have in the Force. Rare it is, and not lightly taken. Call upon your Force Sight you must, throughout the journey of your life. Remember, there is only the Force.”
The weight of Master Yoda’s burdens becomes evident for the briefest of moments. He takes a deep breath as he pushes away his exhaustion. Clearly the reality of the Clone Wars is taking its toll on your aging Master.
”Follow the will of the Force do the Jedi, Master Zao teaches.” The deep respect for your first teacher is writ clearly across Master Yoda’s features. ”Believe in this war, he does not. Serve the Force do the Jedi not the Republic, he reminds. If not for this war, and the role we play, agree with him wholeheartedly I would."
He thinks a moment, weighing what seems to be all of the decisions he has made for the Jedi. "Nothing to be done. Follow this path to its outcome we must." Master Yoda sighs heavily, almost as if defeated by the burden of his responsibilities. "What thoughts have you on the Clone Wars, my new Padawan? What insights have you?”
”Good evaar’la burc’ya. I knew you were a pure Mando’a.”
Kal continues to look out of the window.
”Most of the Kaminoan’s and upper echelons of the GAR have only ever viewed the Clones as livestock. They never acknowledged their sentience. To them, they’re just biological Battle Droids for the grinder of this war. I realized their views when they tried to put the Nulls down. They don’t want independent free thinkers running around. They want automatons. Automatons that can be easily controlled. When I look at them, I don’t see Clones. I see Mandolorians.”
He turns to look at you.
”Mandolorians can never be controlled.”
Kal’buir watches for a moment to gauge your depth and commitment. ”Before Jango Fett died on Geonosis, he ordered me to reassemble Omega Squad. Honor demands I complete the Mandolore’s last request. The Mandolorians of Omega Squad were the toughest and most powerful Mandolorians of their age. I charge you to reassemble a Squad worthy of the tradition. Can you do this Brophin?”
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"What thoughts have you on the Clone Wars, my new Padawan? What insights have you?”
Ansil turns away from the city view to answer Yoda, "It's a curious thing Master. As far as I understand, it doesn't seem right...", he looks a bit nervous, pausing to consider whether to continue.
Then taking a short breath, he blurts out almost spitefully, "-that the Jedi Order are involved in taking sides in the whole thing."
There, I said it.
He waits to see if his comment might get him a scolding, then continues. "As Master Zao taught - the Jedi Knights are the guardians of peace and justice. Not guardians of the Republic." The last part he added himself. "Yes, we should be guardians peace and justice - AND MORE. I know the Jedi Text speaks of such moral things in vague terms but I believe that freedom and fear, justice and cruelty, have always been at war, and I believe that the Force is not neutral between them. There are absolutes in the universe - that it is divided between Good and Evil; that the Force is the absolute inerrant truth; that it is the will of the Force."
Ansil almost drops limp from whatever vocalized that out of him.
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*K-tap k-tap k-tap k-tap*
His metal feet keep a steady tempo as BL-U6 walks the lower streets. Head swiveling left and right, his eyes sweep across and zoom in, rapidly processing a host of information.
Yoda looks to you, impressed by your wisdom.
”Your feelings, stretch out Padawan,” Yoda instructs. ”Feel the Force flow. Seek the will of the Force we do.”
Your sharp sensors immediately track a pair of non humans coming out of the crowd 40 feet from you. The taller being your databanks classify as a Duros, and the smaller being an Ugnaught.
Their eyes are locked on you, and you calculate a 96% chance they will engage you in some manner. You see none, but you also calculate a 98% chance they are carrying some sort of concealed weapons under their thick long coats. After all, your own inventory reveals you are carrying a concealable medium blaster in a hidden compartment on your body.
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BL-U6 turns to face the duros and ugnaught. Since they have not drawn blasters he keeps his own secreted away for the moment. He tries to calculate the chances they were sent to capture him. He does not give them good odds of doing so alive.
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Yes.
Ansil, you stretch out with your feelings following where the Force leads. You feel the calmness exuding from Master Yoda, but as you stretch out further from him, calm is replaced by anxiety. Disturbed at the rippling currents of fear prevalent throughout the area, you dare to stretch out even more and touch nothing but the dark side. Beyond the calm of certain individuals, the multitudes are engulfed in dark side energy. The oppressive feeling of the dark side seems to be everywhere, encompassing and affecting everything.
You open your eyes and see Master Yoda staring at you. ”Encompassing all, the Dark Side does. Ascending, it’s power is. Diminishing is the light. Not certain I am about the future. Prepare I must. Need you to protect the Jedi Legacy I do. My Padawan I chose, for this reason mainly. Though young, powerful in the Force you are. Preserve the Jedi you must. Will you my Padawan?”
The Duros and Ugnaught circle you. ”Where’s your Master, Droid,” the Duros asks.
Brophin, Kal walks up to you and grasps your shoulders. ”Form your Squad, Brophin. When the new Mandalore rises. Serve him like a true Mando! Your dismissed for the day. Take a break, and get ready for some heavy duty.”
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”I have no master.” BL-U6 replies calmly. ”Where is yours?”
The two sentients suddenly pull Ion Blasters from their coats!
Moving as if they have done this before, the two fire their Ion Blasters at you!
The Duros fumbles as his blaster catches hold of his clothing!
The Duros doesn’t even get his shot off as he struggles with unholstering his Weapon!
The Ugnaught’s blast is more accurate as the electro magnetic pulse from his Ion Blaster hits you!
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BL-U6 stumbles from the blast. His circuits flash and his programming shifts into “disassemble” mode.
The shot impacts! An Ion Blast from any kind of weapon would usually mean total system shutdown for most Droids, but you remain online! The blast does manage to scour the top layers of your durasteel battle frame unfortunately!
"If you have no master, then I will accept that position."
BL-U6's leg holster snaps open and his hand snatches up his blaster. Aiming at the Ugnaught, he shoots to kill.
Your attackers stay where they are, and fire their Ion Guns again!
The energy blasts blast low and wide of your position as you move to cover!
You activate your speed boost and quick draw and fire your deadly weapon! The weapon is not on stun. Whatever your memory loss, you realize that you have combat subroutines. Effective combat subroutines at that!
The Duros is hit in the shoulder! His surprise and shock at your attack is plain on his face!
You detect a weapon malfunction in your Blaster!
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Brophin's face is stuck somewhere between a slight grin and a confused frown. You are making fun of me, Papa Kal. The Mandalorians have taken enough of a break already. Teach me to don my armor correctly, or let me blast some droids on the gun range. I will relax with my squad after we have shared our first conquest.