for mandalore
I was born and raised on a back planet in the outer rim. Its name and mine mean little to you. Yeah, don't pretend you know of my people. Don't pretend you understand our ways. Its a lie. Everyone in the interior thinks of us as evil and savage. Couldn't be more wrong.
We are a race of warriors. The thrill of battle is what drives us. Win or lose, to fight is what our lives are for. And we're damn good at it. Mandalorians do not give up, we do not surrender. We fight, we conquer or we die. Thats our way.
My own life is simple, as simple as it could be. Another in the ranks. My father proved himself worthy to join the Mandalorians. From there on the battle he witnessed his Valkyrie. They married and I was born to the name.
No, you don't need to know it.
It's a lost name anyhow. After the civil war, and the fall. It doesn't matter what my name is anymore.
Not sure why I'm even writing this.
I guess...
someone has to know.
I don't even know who you are. But your reading this. SO you must be worthy.
Like I said, born on a small planet. I learned our ways. How to move, how to fight, how to survive.
After our civil war, another of us, Jango, came to my father. He told my father of glory and a new idea. An army grander than anything we had ever seen or heard of. Something to make Mandalore proud.
Dad went with. I never saw him again.
But his last words to me stick with me.
"I'm going to do what I must. To make our traditions live forever. Don't let me down. I expect to hear of you no matter where in the galaxy you fight. Carve your name, and bring honor back to our people."
When I a young boy, I killed a man.
A trader, he came to our port looking for goods. he tried to bully us.
The Jedi have some idea right. Blasters are clumsy. They're random. Even the best don't shoot straight. But a fist. A fist is true. I like hitting things. Found out, I'm good at it.
Someone saw my fight, and they had no love for the trader I killed.
"you got a name boy?"
I looked him over and nodded.
"well? what is it?"
my jaw was tight and my fists began to raise.
"Kid I want no trouble. You handle that fight well. You could make a lot of credits with those skills."
A pit fighter is not worthy of a mandalorian.
"course if yer scared and wanna run home to mommy I understan..."
I was on him in an instant. My mother had died two winters ago.
It took three men to pull me off.
"yer lucky boy I'm in a generous mood." he spat blood and a tooth.
"I can get ye to the middle ring. There's some good fighting circles there."
I shook my head- no
"Boy, look around you. I know what you are. I see the look in yer eyes. Yer not human, yer one of them. Mando'ad. And I know."
I look at him intently. Mando'ad is our word. It is what we are.
"Yer people are dring out boy. I know yer ways, I know its not glamorous. But i promise you something boy. Stick with me and I'll get you the toughest fights I can. One on One you can test yourself against the best."
my eyes narrowed... cage fighting was not our way. But... the words of my father rang in my mind. So I nodded.
"There is one thing boy. Ye got a name?"
The word of my deeds would spread across the galaxy. My father would know of me and be proud. In his honor I could think of only one name. One name- to represent pride, honor and battle. One that was Mando'ad.
"Basilisk"
We are a race of warriors. The thrill of battle is what drives us. Win or lose, to fight is what our lives are for. And we're damn good at it. Mandalorians do not give up, we do not surrender. We fight, we conquer or we die. Thats our way.
My own life is simple, as simple as it could be. Another in the ranks. My father proved himself worthy to join the Mandalorians. From there on the battle he witnessed his Valkyrie. They married and I was born to the name.
No, you don't need to know it.
It's a lost name anyhow. After the civil war, and the fall. It doesn't matter what my name is anymore.
Not sure why I'm even writing this.
I guess...
someone has to know.
I don't even know who you are. But your reading this. SO you must be worthy.
Like I said, born on a small planet. I learned our ways. How to move, how to fight, how to survive.
After our civil war, another of us, Jango, came to my father. He told my father of glory and a new idea. An army grander than anything we had ever seen or heard of. Something to make Mandalore proud.
Dad went with. I never saw him again.
But his last words to me stick with me.
"I'm going to do what I must. To make our traditions live forever. Don't let me down. I expect to hear of you no matter where in the galaxy you fight. Carve your name, and bring honor back to our people."
When I a young boy, I killed a man.
A trader, he came to our port looking for goods. he tried to bully us.
The Jedi have some idea right. Blasters are clumsy. They're random. Even the best don't shoot straight. But a fist. A fist is true. I like hitting things. Found out, I'm good at it.
Someone saw my fight, and they had no love for the trader I killed.
"you got a name boy?"
I looked him over and nodded.
"well? what is it?"
my jaw was tight and my fists began to raise.
"Kid I want no trouble. You handle that fight well. You could make a lot of credits with those skills."
A pit fighter is not worthy of a mandalorian.
"course if yer scared and wanna run home to mommy I understan..."
I was on him in an instant. My mother had died two winters ago.
It took three men to pull me off.
"yer lucky boy I'm in a generous mood." he spat blood and a tooth.
"I can get ye to the middle ring. There's some good fighting circles there."
I shook my head- no
"Boy, look around you. I know what you are. I see the look in yer eyes. Yer not human, yer one of them. Mando'ad. And I know."
I look at him intently. Mando'ad is our word. It is what we are.
"Yer people are dring out boy. I know yer ways, I know its not glamorous. But i promise you something boy. Stick with me and I'll get you the toughest fights I can. One on One you can test yourself against the best."
my eyes narrowed... cage fighting was not our way. But... the words of my father rang in my mind. So I nodded.
"There is one thing boy. Ye got a name?"
The word of my deeds would spread across the galaxy. My father would know of me and be proud. In his honor I could think of only one name. One name- to represent pride, honor and battle. One that was Mando'ad.
"Basilisk"