LeĂa and Din interactions in fics are always so funny to me because there will never be a more perfect matchup than Leia âI learned diplomacy at age two and Iâve been a politician since I was still in my motherâs womb, address me with the proper respect and maybe I wonât manipulate you JUST as muchâ Organa and Din âI grew up ina sewer, my diplomacy is self-taught battle negotiation, and I wouldnât know decorum or politics if it hit me in the faceâ Djarin
Itâs even FUNNIER when one of them is a politician and the other is the fucking ACCIDENTAL KING OF A PLANET
Leia, already expecting yet another sleazy politician: *fake smile* it is an honor to meet you, Mandâalor
Din, glancing up from doodling groguâs face on a bunch of paperwork: uh. Itâs an honor to meet you as well, Miss . . . senator
Leia:
Din: *glances at Bo-katan* was that wrong? Am I supposed to bow or something
Leia, mentally rewriting all of her strategies: no youâre fine. Also, I now understand why your guards are so protective of you. We must not ever let you be corrupted by the horrors of the senate
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Mando'a thought. So, since Mandalorians are a warrior culture but majority of Mandalorians are not soldiers, do we think that Mando'a should have separate words for 'warrior' and 'soldier', with different connotation?
Like, a warrior is someone who fights for their honour and their clan, whereas a soldier is someone who fights for money or a greater cause?
Obviously this would still be an honourable profession, like bounty hunting, but I figure Mando'a needs some way to refer to someone who is a soldier and not just a warrior, since all Mandalorians are warriors in their own right.
My first thought for this was a translation of 'hired warrior', some combination of verborir, 'to hire, buy, contract' and verd 'warrior', but the two words were a bit too similar. To be fair, most 'modern' Mando'a, or post-crusade Mando'a, is likely cobbled together from soldiers' Mando'a (not my theory-- credit to @ranahan for this cool idea!), so it makes sense that the two words would be very connected. However, over time, as Mandalorians culturally leaned more into 'warrior' rather than 'soldier', they would need two distinct words for it.
Anyway. So, instead of verborir, I thought that maybe I could take from the word for 'job', bora, but that just kind of recreates verbora, which I take to mean 'contract'.
After that I decided to take a different route-- instead of calling them 'hired warriors', what if I went from the basis of akaan, 'war'?
All of this to say that I suggest that verd has a more 'honourable warrior' connotation, and posit that we use akaan'ad, 'child of war', for 'soldier' instead.
Iâm going to go with a no. By analogy with Mandalorians not having a word for a hero, I think they wouldnât have a separate word for a warrior, at least not in the sense of defending oneâs clan and honour, because thatâs expected of every Mandalorian.
Itâs only someone who doesnât fight that needs a separate word. And we do have two! Neverd âcivilianâ (from ne + verd, ânot warrior) and neâkaan ânon-combatant, civilianâ (from ne + akaan(ir), âno warâ or âno battleâ). Which raises the question of who are these words used for? Are they oftenâor everâused for other Mandalorians, or only applied to outsiders? Do they refer more to oneâs role in a particular situation or a permanent status? Whatâs the difference between the two?
And like @johamur said in the notes, thereâs verâverd âmercenaryâ for someone whoâs currently working as a soldier for pay.
But! That doesnât mean we shouldnât have a word like akaanâad. After all, this is a topic that ought to require a lot of nuance for Mandalorians, who also have to interact with other societies who have very different ideas about the roles of warriors and civilians. We could even have the more sympathetic akaanâad vs more clinical akaanii etc etc.
I checked and I had akaanii as âfighter, combatantâ in my dictionary file (and had also considered akaanâad, akaad, and akaar). But to me, the division between soldiers and civilians, combatants and non-combatants, and irregular forces feels like a particularly modern concept. One which Iâm not sure Mandalorians would 100% share. So like. Hmm. I felt the need to come up with a word for a combatant, but was that because thatâs how Iâm used to thinking about it or is it how a mando would think about it?
This is so fascinating! Now Iâm also curious about the reasons behind using a word like akaanâadâŚ
In my mind, ramikade and oriâramikade filled the role of âwarriorâ (with verd being âsoldierâ and all) because of the implications of extra skill/training/lifestyle surrounding it. Would akaanii/akaanâad have that same kind of implied skill difference to it? Someone who is part of the fight but isnât particularly trained/organized for it? A civilian who happens to be fighting?
I think thereâs a lot of nuance to be had here, especially depending on how mandos might consider something like a local militia/levy vs organized verâverde vs a solo beroya when theyâre on a battlefield
So this is my interpretation, but I think Traviss was riffing off of the etymology of English âsoldierâ with verd. Soldier comes ultimately from Latin solidus, i.e. the currency that Roman legionnaires got paid in. And if you look at other words where the root *ver- occurs in (verâverd âmercenary,â veriduur âcourtesan,â beroya âbounty hunterâ), they all seem to have to do with getting paid or earning money. Therefore *ver- likely means something like âwageâ or âto earn.â And well. Soldiering is the iconic mando profession.
As for verd, I think it comes from ver-ad, i.e. one who gets paid or earns a wage. Therefore itâs my interpretation that verd, at least in its original sense, meant a professional soldier or something like our enlisted troops. Rather than someone partaking in your regular inter-clan skirmishes without pay. (Though I think the original crusaders got paid in loot rather than money.) Perhaps it got shortened down from a longer compound word like *verâtraatâade âthe paid troopsâ > verâade > verde. But that sense might have shifted later, because we also have verâverd, which is clearly a later coinage (itâs tautological even lol).
But then again, all Mandalorians are expected to fight. I donât think they have the same concept of civilian/non-combatant as we do, or the same idea of irregular forces that blend civilian and combatants, because all mando civilians can also fight and are expected to defend themselves and their clans.
But Mandalorians have also come into contact with multiple different societies who would have very different ideas and standards about soldiering, might employ unpaid conscripts (which outside of the Neo-Crusaders donât seem to be a mando thing), etc. So perhaps a word like âcombatantâ might be useful, to describe the various kinds of armed forces that might be found on a battlefield? As a sort of a descriptive wider catch-all term, hence literally fighter or someone who does war, paid or not. Personally I would use akaanâad in a more respectful sense or in an identity sense, and akaanii in a more value-neutral sense. But thatâs my interpretations again.
Akalinad might work for a conscript. Literally, it means someone who is requisitioned & comes from the same word I coined for requisitioning materiel/ordnance (akaline, lit. âwar needs/necessitiesâ). Tbh kind of derogatory lol.
tl;dr: I donât know. Iâm trying to work it out aloud here. I think Mandalorians would come at the ideas of who is or isnât a soldier or warrior in a way that is perpendicular to our understanding, but I canât quite wrap my head around the specifics.
Bo-Katan during her Death Watch years, taking care of Sabine while Ursaâs busy
Bo has Kalevalan traditional tattoos (inspired by traditional Croatian ones) and most of the symbols come from this post of @ranahan, while Sabine has a painted protective talisman on her face, the idea being of @pagliaccis-clown !
some half-formed thoughts on mandalorian religion, completely ignoring the absolutely garbage worldbuilding KT did:
mandalorians, first and foremost, practice pretty straight-forward ancestral veneration. codes of honor are formed around the idea of ânot offending the ancestorsâ, and family shrines are in almost every home and are one of very few times beskar is used to make anything outside of armor and weaponry
very large clans, like clan kryze and clan wren, have dedicated temples to their many powerful ancestors. i can imagine satine moving the family temple from kalevala to sundari when the seat of power of clan kryze (and mandalore) shifted there
mandalorian cosmology is pretty vague in how, exactly, the universe came into being. most believe in some sort of supreme cosmic force, but it would more readily be called âfateâ than as a deity
the closest thing to a supreme diety in mandalorianism, then, is mandalore the first, who is essentially considered the ancestor of the collective soul of the mandalorian people and the founder of their faith system (kind of a mix between zoroaster and jesus). the fact that he is honored by all mandalorians as an ancestor gives him the greatest power, and the idea of potentially inflicting his wrath on all your people because of your personal screw-up is a great deterrent against turning on traditions
that being said, though, new mandalorians are ancestral venerators just like the warriors are. self-sufficiency, discipline, and subservience to the wishes of the ancestors are the basis of both cultural lines, though in the case of the new mandalorians it may manifest in careful dedication to familial artisanry and the like instead of wearing the armor and killing people
Iâm still loving this. So some additional thoughts:
Ancestral veneration and worshipping deities can and do coexist in several cultures. For Mandalorians (especially in the modern days), the gods are more like distant personifications of natural forces, or dangerous and fickle to deal with if they are believed in as more than abstractions; their personal ancestors are who are venerated and prayed to in their everyday lives. Even a religious, god-fearing mando probably prays directly to the deities only a few exceptional times in their lives, and it would be much more common to ask for oneâs ancestors to intervene on oneâs behalf than to pray to the gods directly.
This is why the Mandalorian pantheon also includes a slew of semi-mythical cultural heroes in addition to the deities. These are by convention treated as historical/ancestral Mandalorian ancestors of some distant eons past, even if their actual historicity may be about the same level as Achilles or King Arthur. They may well have existed, even if all records have been lost and their deeds have been exaggerated and embellished.
In many cases, the ancestral shrines were originally connected to forges. But in time, the forges moved to more practical locations and the shrines stayed. Smaller families who have no dedicated family forges have a small shrine in the karyai, with the rest of the family.
Family shrines are typically very practical. They might contain some heritage weapons, historical artefacts like war banners, etc, but full sets of arms and armour are usually stored more practically. Mandos arenât too precious with their armour and weaponsâtheyâre meant to be used, not displayed. So what ends up on display is usually something thatâs old, but no longer usable or not fitting any current living clan members.
Armour of course, is circulated and worn amongst oneâs descendants, so your ancestors are always with you whether you have a shrine or not. Helmets and other armour pieces that end up on display in the family shrine are those that donât fit any current members of the clan, but are readily taken back into use when needed. Helmets are not uncommonly displayedâtheyâre also not coincidentally pieces that in multi-species clans often require significant alterations from one member to another. Inheriting someone elseâs troan can also be bit more significant than inheriting another piece of armour (although it can also be just because they happened to be the same species).
Thereâs usually some kind of a live fire element (candle, or just a light when shipboard), to recall the fires of the stars and ancestral forges. Symbolical offerings of food and drink (like tipping a bit from your tihaar cup to the ancestors, or offering a share of a feast by e.g. leaving the new yearâs feast on the table overnight so the ancestors may also partake) are also not uncommon. But the main element is of course saying oneâs remembrances. The whole litany would also include oneâs entire line of ancestors, not just those one personally knew and lost. The entire ancestral litanies are often recited only during festivals and special days, not every single day.
In addition to Mandalore the First, most clans also revere their founders. For very old clans, this might be the clan head at the time of the clanâs settling on Mandalore, whether historical or legendary. But even clans that are later offshoots or splinters, still trace their lineages back to the original Taung that settled Mandaâyaim. Many clans also revere their clan head during the Mandalorian Wars, who opened the clan to adoptees. And later ancestors of famous deeds are of course also remembered.
Founding oneâs own clan is thus a bit of a clean slate, but potentially a very prestigious position. Many of the cultural heroes of Mandalorian legends are also the founding parents of their clans. And vice versa, many clans like to claim those heroes as their ancestors for more prestige.
In todayâs politics, common ancestors have less practical meaning than in times before, but they are still named and recalled e.g. when making pacts with other clans and during ceremonial occasions. Two unfamiliar Mandalorians meeting are also very likely to start naming their lineages to find common ancestors/relatives as a way to find common ground and a reason to ally rather than kill each other. Any time you meet some unfamiliar clan elder, youâre guaranteed to be expected to recount your lineage. Yes, your own actions define your honour, not the actions of your ancestors; but your lineage is still the thing that practically defines whoâs who and where one comes from.
When a person is adopted into a Mandalorian clan, they of course also acquire a whole army of venerable ancestors! Blood is not important to Mandalorian lineages, only the spiritual bonds and vows that bind clan and souls together. Therefore adoptees are equally part of Mandalorians lineages and are expected to hold the same duties towards their ancestors.
Learning to recount oneâs lineage is still a part of traditional Mandalorian schooling, and required for oneâs verdâgoten in addition to knowing the laws (i.e. Resolânare and the Canons of Honour). You can hardly do your duty to your ancestors if you donât know them, after all. The major part of the Mandalorian faith hinges on keeping oneâs ancestors alive in memory.
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Can I just say I love every Mando in this covert. Everything we see about the absolutely insane way they go about their day is just - joyous.
But this Mando, right? Looks down at the baby, clenches his fists and then - pulls a passive posture, clasping his hands like that and I can hear this man internally screaming a sigh, going, no no no, Djarin, I am not dealing with your bullshit today.
Like this man tried, okay? An effort was made.
Just... imagining what goes on in this covert as far as interpersonal relationships goes is hilarious. And you gotta imagine that Din is like... their feral cousin. Heâs obviously one of their best combatants ( i think thats why he was the one who got to go outside at the beginning?) and given the 'odds' he likes I imagine Din must have been a competitive little shit growing up and like - the last few years this man has seriously wrecked some shit for this covert. Repeatedly.
But heâs still one of theirs. Gotta love Mandalorian loyalty.
And now heâs bringing in his little gremlin child and all the other adults are just like.... đ
AU where Mandoâ lethally efficient bounty hunter and detectiveâ searches for a Jedi teacher for the kid post-Season 1, but all of the ones he finds arenât in a place where they can train the kid, so he either takes their advice looking into locations that used to be important to the Jedi or he continues searching for them through other means
Thing is though, he⌠keeps finding more Jedi. None of them are the right choice to train the kid, but it slowly, steadily becomes apparent to those heâs found and the people heâs talked to that this Mandalorian has found a dozen Jedi within the span of a year and heâs got leads on several more? Any Jedi who escaped during Order 66, any Force sensitive who received training afterwards however partial or complete that may be, any of those whoâve connected with Quinlan Vos or others through the Hidden Path, children now grown who were at one time abducted by Inquisitors and bounty hunters, even ex-Imperial Force-sensitives themselvesâ
This Mandalorian bounty hunter has somehow accidentally located more Force-sensitive people himself than anyone has in years. Nobody has any idea how heâs doing it (âYou just do the work,â he says dismissively, assuming theyâre asking how he finds people in general) and when they realize that he knows very little about the Jedi at all, only recently familiarizing himself with the Force and its different followers, theyâre even more baffled because how? And then heâs talking about locations that have provided clues through other means, codices and cave drawings and long-lost temples and did he just say he found a cave of crystals?? On a planet nobodyâs ever been to or has ever been considered a nexus of the Force? Just who is this guy?!
Is some of it influenced by the kid somehow being able to zero in on locations across the galaxy that may house former Jedi? Do they happen across more holy sites like the henge on Tython that provide answers or directions? How many Force-related experiences has this guy had that heâs entirely unaware of because he has no basis for comparison and figures âThe galaxy is full of all kinds of unexplainable phenomena, how am I supposed to know if itâs the Force. Also didnât one of you just say it surrounds every living thing and connects the universe together, couldnât ANYTHING be because of the Force at that pointâ
People are finding old friends and allies and mentors (and enemies!) and connecting with one another for the first time in over two decades and itâs all because this one, regular, entirely non-Force-sensitive guy with a very adorable Force-sensitive child have somehow managed to be the connecting thread between them all
(Or even better, maybe very few of them know how many other Force-sensitives heâs found or made contact with and it isnât until some inexplicable upcoming two-part finale battle where he recruits all of his new allies to help him fight that they all show up and realize theyâre not as alone as they thought.)
I like to imagine there's so many other, more subtle ways to use beskar in Mandalorian culture that doesn't involve armor or weapons. Such as artisans turning beskar into nearly weightless, hair-thin silver thread, used only for the most treasured clothing. Imagine a Mandalorian ceremonial cape with beskar thread embroidery forming a shimmering sprawl of embellishment along the hem, a garment so precious it's been passed down carefully for generations.
or perhaps a wedding gown, with the thread tracing and forming flowers from long ago that used to bloom on Mandalore's surface, before war desecrated the landscape and erased them from memory. Maybe a tapestry, belonging to a noble house, that has been so well maintained over the years that it mysteriously vanishes right before the Night of a Thousand Tears.
We know from canon that beskar used to be much more widely available, and of better quality than even Din's armor. Imagine all the amazing uses so many craftsfolk could have used it for in ways that were so integral and precious to Mandalorian culture.
Thinking about how Luke basically saves the galaxy with heartfelt diplomacy, and Leia gets to strangle a Tatooine crime lord to death with a giant chain, and given their respective backgrounds probably no one would have correctly guessed which of them would go on to do which deed.
Many cycles passed, each one gradually closer to revealing the entirety of the surface of Mandalore to the suns. Strangely, the removal of glass helped to clear the storms and interference. The planet could finally be connected to the rest of the Galaxy.Â
Whatever shards that could be recovered were used to help rebuild the capital. Still a shell of what it formerly was, but they had to start somewhere.Â
After the Great Forge was lit once more, it was all hands on deck to help rebuild. Well, as many hands as they could get. Kryze Clanâthe Nite Owlsâand The Children of the Death Watch. The Owls had the advantage of living in Sundari previously so they knew what it was supposed to look like.Â
But Din had no plans to revive Mandalore if it was to be exactly as it was before the Empire touched it. That would mean the same problems, the same fights amongst one another. Their home would fall yet again. This was going to be a new age for Mandalore.
Thank the Maker he had Milena or he wouldâve quit long ago. She aided with telling the tribes what needed to get done. With some resistance.Â
Death Watch didnât trust her because she took off her helmet. Begrudgingly, at the behest of the Armorer, they followed her orders. Nite Owls didnât trust her because she was a Jedi. They only followed her orders because Mandalore was their home.Â
Milena walked through the halls as they were under construction, buzzes of saws, hisses of welding equipment, and bangs of hammers created a symphony as sparks flew around her and sunlight streamed through the cracks above.Â
The Great Forge was the first thing fully restored as it was the heart of their culture. The dark metal of the forge gleamed as blue fire burned within. A few Mandalorians were using it, hammers ringing out melodically among the other noises.Â
It was everything Milena had hoped it would be. Though, from the stories from her parents and elders, there were more blacksmiths constantly working at any given time. Rather than the five she saw, there would have been fifteen, maybe twenty.Â
A man in Nite Owl armor turned towards Milena, dropping a piece of hot Beskar into the quenching waters, causing it to sizzle. Axe Woves. âIf it isnât the Mandâalorâs right hand man.â He snarled. Among those who did not have a taste for Milena Vanda, he was the most vocal about it. âWhat do you want?â
âJust checking in. Everything going alright?â Milena looked amongst the other Mandalorians, admiring the work they were doing.Â
Although her tribe did not mind, she wasnât oblivious to how others felt about Jedi. There was still so much animosity. Jedi and Mandalorians could not coexist, they had fought against each other in wars, breeding distrust.Â
Yet they did. Within one person.Â
Defensively, Axe turned back towards the quenching tank to fish out his piece with tongs. âGoing fine.â He let the water drip down, causing perfect ripples to disrupt the calm water. âCanât believe a Mandâalor would even let a Jedi onto his council. How self-serving they are.â He said almost absentmindedly.
By the looks on his comrades' faces, they were surprised he would say such a thing in front of her. To get a reaction. To prove his point.Â
âI am more loyal to Din Djarin than any of you are to the Ways of the Mandâalor. What he wants of me, I will do without any doubt.â Milena was calm, her words firm. âPerhaps you would learn more if you opened your mind rather than your mouth.â She turned and left, crimson scarf swaying behind her.Â
The suns of Mandalore warmed the planet, finally. After so long of cold, covered by miles of glass, the surface had to readjust to the rays. Plants used to living in low-light died, to be replaced with something new sometime soon.Â
Still, Din felt something akin to rightness in his chest. His boots had finally touched Mandalorian soil. There was still plenty to do, plenty to figure out, but he let himself savor this small pleasure.Â
He looked toward the horizon, watching as soft clouds moved across the blue skies and cast shadows on the ground, the collapsed buildings, the Mandalorians in the midst of construction, and the palace.Â
Some Nite Owls who were in the midst of a break, eating from packaged tins, had their helmets off and soaked in the sun as it warmed their faces.
Emotions surged through his body. A part of him wanted to cry. Overwhelmed.Â
There was nothing Din could do to repay Milena for all the things she had done. It was because of her that the surface could see the light of day once more. It was because of her that he considered a trip to Mandalore, to become the ruler, to bring the tribes together. The reason his parents would be proud of the man he became.Â
He bared memories of them yet could not recall their faces. Blurry from time. He could remember helping his mother in the kitchen, mixing cake batter and sneaking some into his mouth, attempting to slice nuts before his father stepped in when he cut himself, finally biting into a cake, warm and rich with flavor, crunchy and creamy, while his parents watched. Assumedly, with affection in their eyes.Â
Surely he carried both their looks, but he could never know for certain. Did he share his aquiline nose with his mother? Or his father?
Grogu cooed in his arms. âYeah. I think sheâs pretty great too.â Din hummed, scratching at the childâs head. âIt is due to her that our people will finally have a place to call home.âÂ
He carried him through the palace, nodding at the Mandalorians he saw along the way until he stopped at the throne room. Banners of clans, dirty and torn at the ends still swayed gently above them. Milena stood ahead of him, staring at the large hall.Â
Din set Grogu down. The child ran around the space, peering around with wonder in his large eyes.Â
âMilena.â He stepped beside her.
âDin.â She nodded, acknowledging him. Soon, a smile gradually spread over her beautiful face. âSometimes I canât believe it. Yet we are standing in the Sundari Palace.âÂ
âYes. We are.â Din rasped, watching as Grogu climbed onto the throne.Â
He had made up his mind long ago, all that was needed was a push. And a push he had found. The restoration process was going rather smoothly.
Turning to Milena, Din took her hand. She tilted her head at him, interest glittering in her eyes. âWe havenât known each other long and yet it feels like you know my soul better than myself.â He then took her other hand, squeezing both. He hoped she could feel the weight of his gaze through his helmet. âAnd so⌠I would like to court you.â
She didnât breathe, didnât move, just stood frozen. He worried that meant denial, that she did not feel the same burning, burdening care he felt for her.Â
âAre you sure?â Milena finally asked in a hushed whisper. âThe others would not be agreeable to it.â Not denial. Not outright acceptance either.Â
Din held her hands more firmly, thumbs grazing over her knuckles. âTo be honest, you being a Jedi means nothing to me. Nor does station. Or bloodline. What means more to me is honor. And loyalty. And character. These are the reasons I want you, Lady Vanda. Our song is not yet written.â He did not often say words he did not mean. He knew she could sense the truth in them.Â
With a shuddering breath, Milena squeezed his hands. âDinâŚâ There was a swirl of emotions in her eyes which only he could understand.
âMay I court you?â He finally asked though he knew the answer now.
âYes.â She chuckled, a brighter smile spreading across her features which made her comparable to the sun. He wanted to capture that moment forever.Â
His heart beat louder in his head, banging against his ribs like a drum. Would it burst out of him? Would it matter? As long as he bled for her. He could imagine she would lick up all the blood and feed it back to him.Â
Milena slipped her hands from his, sliding over his arms, his shoulders, until her palms found the cheeks of his helmet. He tensed, but trusted her implicitly.Â
She pressed her head against the cool metal of his helmet. Din let out a breath, pressing against her more firmly, eyes closed, as if that would help to feel her while his hands found purchase on her waist.Â
This closeness, even completely armored, the both of them, was not what he was used to. He had barely seen any Mandalorian couples engage in physical touch, in his tribe at least, making the touches they did share all the more meaningful.Â
A new age, indeed.
In the evening, while in one of the many rooms in the palace that used to be a meeting room, Din sat with Milena and Bo-Katan. âHow would we grow our population? Our people are scattered like stars across the Galaxy.â He posed the question that had been on his mind for a while.
Milenaâs tribe was still on Hoth, somewhere, so he could likely get a message to them and persuade them to come to Mandalore. But that was only because he knew of their location. Surely there were other Mandalorians. Other Mandalorians he did not know of.Â
âPerhaps we should follow any leads anyone may have. Put together a search party once we get more information.â Bo-Katan suggested.
âThat would exhaust the little resources we have.â Milena reasoned. âAnd forcing our people to come to Mandalore would be like asking them to give up their armor.â Â
Din let out a breath, sliding his hands across the table. It was hard to be rooted after so long of being on the run. Particularly as the ruler of Mandalore. Traveling was not in the cards any time soon for him.Â
Bo-Katan narrowed her eyes at Milena. âWell, what would you have us do, then?âÂ
âAn open invitation.â She responded. âSend out a message as far as possible. That way, they do not feel pressured. But welcome, should they choose to come.âÂ
Din turned his head towards Milena. Compassion was something she carried with her into everything and he could not deny that he admired her for it. Some may say that made her weak. He knew the truth. It made her the strongest of them all.Â
âThat is the stupidestââ Bo-Katan started.
âI think thatâs a wonderful idea.â Din cut her off, standing from the table, prompting the two women beside him to stand. âBut what should I say?â
Milena motioned towards him. âWhatever comes to mind. Iâm sure youâll figure it out.â
He didnât have as much faith. Words werenât a strong suit. He surprised himself when he spoke with her earlier. He had just spoken from the heart. Still measured. Still careful. From the heart nevertheless.Â
Bo-Katan hummed non-committedly. âAs long as more Mandalorians come home, I frankly donât give a damn why.âÂ
So, they went along with Milenaâs plan. A holo-message was sent out to every corner of the Galaxy they were able to reach with what signal they had, blue and glowing in front of many different faces and helmets alike.
âHello,â Din started, âI am Din Djarin, the current ruler of Mandalore.â He paused, the message crackling. He moved to take off his helmet, depressurizing with a hiss, revealing his face to whoever saw the message. âI invite any and all Mandalorians back to Mandalore. It is safe. Not cursed like some may believe. We are in the midst of rebuilding. I implore you to help us rebuild our home butâŚâÂ
There was silence as he searched for the words, even through the automated message, any onlooker felt as though he spoke straight to them.Â
He looked straight ahead, something in him shifting. âI donât care about that. I wish you to come home so you may feel welcome. So we can live in the light once again on a planet where we are welcome, so our culture may flourish and our children can feel what it is to play in the sunlight. We have been in the dark too long.â
The message ended, hologram fizzling out. Not every Mandalorian would see it. The hope was that word would spread and more isolated tribes would hear and take the gamble to travel to Mandalore.Â
Taking off his helmet was a risky move, though it was his own idea. His people had to know his face. They had to connect with him somehow, had to gauge how genuine he was without solely relying on his voice or the fact that he wore Mandalorian armor.Â
He could not hide behind an emotionless visor any longer if he was to lead an entire planet. A new era meant new traditions to be made, older ones to be broken.Â
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So for a nomadic people accustomed to being able to make do with the ABSOLUTE minimum, I would assume Mandalorian kitchen implements are going to be basic. The words we have in Mando'a that refer to them also refer back to armor- helmet and pot, plate and frying surface, etc.
I have some experience with camp cooking. The same pot you use for boiling will probably go towards baking. You really just need a Deep Vessel and a Flat Surface to make just about anything you want. You're just limited by what fuel source you've got for the kind of heat you'll have- hot and fast fires are things you can flash-fry on, but not bake, for example. Boiling, at least, will never fail you, so soup is always on the menu. More on that later.
I have a thought that at home, slow-cookers and griddle surfaces are king. What would be lacking, that we Earth natives might find strange, would probably be the bakeware. Not baking- surely Mandalorian homes have ovens, which can conveniently double as dehydrators. No, I mean all the fancy things for pastry work. We're accustomed to cake tins, pie tins, casseroles, cookie cutters, muffin tins, etc. Mandalorians would likely just use the same implements for different purposes. One or two good sized baking dishes or sheets will make a multitude of things. Nothing is stopping you from baking a rectangular pie in your 9Ă13. Nothing is stopping you from baking "muffins" in that same tim all in a big rectangle and cutting it into servings, or baking it in pucks like extra fluffy cookies.
But things that would really dominate in Mandalorian cooking? Boiling. Dumplings, noodles, soups, stews. There is a REASON for this, and it is that water regulates temperature really really well. It boils at one temperature under our atmosphere's pressure and has wicked high specific heat, so an unreliable fuel source is less of a problem. So the stock pot in a Mandalorian household and camp alike would see a lot of use.
Mandalorian kitchens would also have ample pantry space- there would be cold storage at home, yes, but also shelf-stable staples, like flours and beans, dried milk, cooking fat, gihaal and other meat meals and extracts used like bouillon. A highly anachronistic space, indicative of the Mandalorian resistance to relying on goods and services that could be taken away.
To summarize:
To cook like a Mandalorian, you really only need a big skillet or griddle, some kind of large boiling vessel with a lid, and heat. That's all you need to get started. You can even make bread that way- flatbreads are almost always baked on a griddle or pan, not an oven. But for the most part, I hope you like soup.
I think that Bo-Katan's attitude towards Satine - particularly her anger at Satine's death despite having been involved with Death Watch (which I have often seen described as hypocrisy) - makes a lot more sense if you think about it in the same terms as Brutus' "not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more" line from Julius Caesar (Shakespeare, Julius Caesar, III.II. 22).
By that I mean that Bo-Katan, like Brutus, fully believes that the awful things she's doing are for the benefit of her state and people, and that she can square off the possibility of hurting her sister because she honestly thinks that it would ultimately lead to a better Mandalore. It isn't that she wants to do it but rather that, in her mind, she has to.
"As Caesar loved me, I weep for him [...] but, as he was ambitious, I slew him" (Shakespeare, Julius Caesar, III.II. 24-27). These two things are not contradictory in Brutus' mind; he can mourn Caesar because he loved him despite having been the one to kill him, because one of those things is personal and the other is politics and so they have no bearing on each other, therefore these two sentiments can co-exist. Brutus loved Caesar-the-friend and hated Caesar-the-dictator, and as there was no way for him to separate the two in practice, he did what he believed he had to do.
And that is precisely the kind of thought process that would allow Bo-Katan to be sad and angry about Satine's death despite having contributed to the circumstances that brought about that outcome. And that isn't so much hypocrisy as it is cognitive dissonance, a conflicting sense of duty, and a hell of a lot of compartmentalisation. Because just as Brutus hated dictator-Caesar but loved Caesar himself, Bo-Katan hated the pacifist duchess of Mandalore but still loved her big sister - it was just unfortunate that there was no way to hurt one but not the other.
I actually think its kinda the opposite. Now before I start I'm not disagreeing for disagreeing's sake. I love your Shakespeare/ Star Wars comparisons and I do think a lot of people are being purposefully dense about the Kryzes (I'm even writing a Bo-Katan post that's inspired by one of yours rn so please don't take me the wrong way). For Brutus, there was no other way it could have ended because of what you said. There is a sort of inevitability to it. Ceaser the dictator had to fall for Rome to thrive. However, Satine didn't have to die because the Fall of Mandalore isn't about Satine and Mandalore- it's about Obi-Wan and Maul. Satine wasn't martyred. Satine was fridged. Mandalore, Death Watch, and Satine were all pawns in Maul's revenge. Death Watch (and Bo-Katan to some extent) was never the one stabbing Satine, she was the knife used to stab Satine. I think at the end of the day that's one of the things that keeps her up at night. Satine wouldn't have died if they didn't bring Maul into it. She didn't like that Maul was involved in the plan in the beginning, but she didn't stop him. Think about it. Maul did all of this to see Obi-Wan fall. The song for when Satine dies is literally called "Darth Maul Breaks Obi-Wan". Narratively speaking the Fall of Mandalore is not about Mandalore nor the Duchess of Mandalore. It's about the Duchess of Mandalore's lover and his enemy. It's also the reason why Bo blaming Obi-Wan makes sense. It's not about Satine. Darth Maul killed Satine to get to Obi-Wan. The entire system of Mandalore is a casualty because of Maul's vengeance against Obi-Wan. To Bo-Katan, Obi-Wan is part of (if not) the reason why Satine died. I think if the original plan (DW uses Maul to overthrow Satine, then kills the Sith) was executed properly and Satine died bc of that, then it would make the Kryzes similar to Brutus and Ceaser.
OKAY THIS POST HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR AGES BUT HERE IS MY TIINGILAR (MANDALORIAN STEW) RECIPE!!!!!
Please riff on this recipe as much as you want because I'm a firm believer in measuring with your heart and improvising with what's in your cabinet and I know for sure that's the spirit of any Mando recipe.
I used a combination of other peopleâs recipes (all credits included) to make my own (vegan) Mandalorian tiingilar, leaving it on the slow cooker overnight each time. I mean itâs truly hard to go wrong with a stew or curry dish but I read some fantastic suggestions in starwarsanthropologyâs post on layering spices and making it interesting and it inspired me. So the recipe I finally settled on after experimenting with a few versions is below the cut. This is just based on what I enjoy and my preferences, so check out the other recipes linked here in case you want to try something different.
Ingredients:
1 large yellow onion, chopped
~1-2 tbsp garlic powder (most recipes call for minced cloves but Iâm unbothered by not having those bc nomadic Mandalorians are definitely cooking with a lot of powdered and preserved ingredients rather than fresh ones)
2 chopped red apples
~1 1/2 cups (frozen or fresh, I had frozen) cubed sweet potato (or regular potato)
3ish carrots, chopped
1 1/2 cups cashews
1 can pumpkin purĂŠe
1 can chickpeas (optional)
4 tbsp (one small can) tomato paste OR one large 14oz can diced tomatoes
~4 cups vegetable stock
1/2 jar tom yum paste (thatâs like 2-3 tbsp?? tom yum paste includes lemongrass, crushed chili pepper, kaffir limes, and galangal)
1 heaping tbsp lao gan ma (smoked chili crisp)
4 sichuan chili peppers broken open (be aware this is a less spicy type of chili pepper- if using another type, you may want to use less)
1 tsp ground black pepper
~1.5 tbsp powdered ginger
Zest from one lemon and one orange (Just orange works nicely too)
1 tsp nutmeg
Splash of smoked sesame oil
Olive oil splashed in when I felt like it to add fat and heft (avocado worked for me too on one occasion when I was running low on olive).
In the cooker I heated the onions and garlic in olive oil until they started becoming translucent, and then added the tomato paste, then the liquids, then everything else. Left it on high heat for two hours, mixed in some water so it wouldn't dry up and then reduced it to low for eight hours/overnight.
It came out fantastic, warming and flavorful. As ever, you could stand to turn up the spice for more of that sinus-clearing heturaam, or cut some out if spice isn't your thing. The chili crisp is a pretty specific ingredient if you arenât in the lao gan ma cult (me) and keep it in your cabinet at all times but it adds a smokey, heavy flavor that would normally come from browned meat in this recipe and is a good source of gentle heat. If you don't have it, I would add more sesame oil.
I add cashews as @starwarsanthropology suggested for extra protein and I replace the traditional meat with chickpeas as in @raiikensmandaloriancuisine 's recipe. I have to say that adding the cashews was a galaxy brain (ha) move because in the slow cooker overnight they become so soft and smooth that I can bite through them like warm butter and they add a fantastic nutty flavor.
I love the idea of fish meal as an extremely dense and protein-heavy base for Mandalorian cooking since it could theoretically be so easy to find or make in the gffa. BUT I almost never eat meat, and even if I did itâs virtually impossible to find human-grade fish meal where I am. Pearled couscous instead of chickpeas was really delicious but expensive for me to get. I think toor dal or other lentils in here instead of chickpeas for the protein would also work.
Cooking with whatever preserved/shelf-stable ingredients you have is 100% in line with a nomadic culture, which is why I used vegetable stock made from packaged cubes and all the spices were dried/ground. I am so excited to finally be sharing this recipe and TYSM!!! to Raiiken's Mandalorian Cuisine for the basis of this stew (I used their recipe verbatim on my first attempt) and Star Wars Anthropology for so many good ideas.
mandos + beskarâgam + specialized support systems
injury rate in mandos is extremely high (naturally) and their understanding of injury, recovery, and trauma is excellent. so naturally, theyâd adapt their armor to help them with lasting medical problemsâŚ..
mandalorians who have lost an eye having an hud setup that gives them video feed from their blind side in a small popup. its not as good as having two eyes, but no one can sneak up on you from that side. adapted hud control commands, since traditional setups rely on blinking. additional reliance on voice recognition and spoken commands. overlay grids and interactive ai to help with depth perception
mandos with tinnitus from ear damage having constant background noise filters to help distract from the ringing
vitals monitors such as constant heart activity monitoring, blood glucose levels, etc. if you go critical, the system will alert the closest select number of people from a list that you give the program to come help you.
specially designed combat-level prosthetics built into armor. you have your casual every-day wear leg, and your Armor Leg. itâs got a rocket launcher.
support ai and hud grids/horizon lines etc for vertigo, balance problems, etc
sure, you can build a hearing aid into your audio system, but why not also have live subtitles?
i fully believe sign language is a common skill for mandos (and not just for combat) but you could also have a text-to-voice feature that lets you write out what you want to say and have a computer say it for you
hell what do i have to do to get a fic about a mandalorian who practically has a support droid living in their armor. they got sick of having 18 different single-function ais and just got one entire robotic personality programmed in. (what if darth vaderâs support suit is actually a droid that he wears. imagine the possibilities.)
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Consider: Tar Vizsla who fits as a King Arthurian legend, mandalorianized, in space.
Consider: Tar Vizsla, Mandalorian who fought his clan to leave home to be trained by the Jedi, because during those times mandalorians and Jedi were not on good terms, and no self respecting Mandalorian would allow a Jedi to take their child and divorce them from their culture.
But Tar Vizsla had the long sight, had wanted to see what he could be, and thought he could return.
Consider: Tar Vizsla, through wit, or skill, in combat or diplomacy, working to unite the scattered and warring clans on Mandalore.
Consider: Both the Jedi and the powerful Mandalorian clans actively working against him â unity among all of Mandalore does not serve either powersâ interests.
Tar Vizsla, beloved, belonged to both â belonged to neither.
Tar Vizsla left the Jedi to become a man of the people, to return home to Mandalore where they needed him most, and his very existence a slight against any who he would call home.
Consider: All the politics of the times involved. How was he killed, why was his saber taken to be held by the Jedi â to later be stolen back by the Mandalorians?
It is not the first time the Jedi had killed a Mandalorian leader and taken their heirloom, their symbol of power, âfor safe keeping.â
now that I said that, Iâm really curious if they have mandalorian grocery stores, and if they exist in diasporas across the galaxy (kind of like asian supermarkets), and what kind of things do they sell
bc i am asian diaspora and have asian supermarkets near me
an entire aisle devoted to spices
the entire supermarket smells like spices and it is homey and nostalgic even to outsiders
less than a fourth of one side of an aisle devoted to âintergalactic (aka western) food.â This includes the three kinds of cereal they have in that supermarket.
the entire produce area smells like spiced fruit despite the fruit not being cooked yet. bc obviously mandalorian fruit is naturally spicy right?
one side of an entire aisle dedicated to their equivalent of rice
the other side of that same aisle dedicated to instant noodles
another aisle dedicated to various mandalorian alcohols
always fresh, (unless youâre in the dried fruits/vegs section). SOMEHOW.  could be a Shakraan (thatâs the word iâm using for MandoMart now) out in the middle of whoknowswhere where imports are v expensive, and yet ⌠they have fresh produce. every day
towards the end of the day, if theyâre receiving a fresh shipment tomorrow, prices are slashed to move inventory out quickly.Â
only local mandoâade appear to be aware of this, and it is always mayhem the last two hours before closing (or mayhem to aruettise Bâ), probably bc everyone is speaking some dialect of mandoâa, either âstandardâ or a local dialect )
GOOD FUCKING LUCK if youâre not wearing armor at this time
mandalorian coconuts that they whip out a huge butcher knife out of nowhere to crack open on the spot for you to drink on purchase. They literally crack it open in their hands.
SEAFOOD
thereâs a section completely dedicated to gi/giâe/gise. Fish. Under the crushed-icetrays holding displays of fish, are tanks where live fish are swimming in. you can get them whole, or butchered on the spot. they butcher them right there, in plain view, so good luck if youâre squeamish.
kids love those tanks btw. be careful not to trip over them when ordering. the fish are usually incredibly terrifying to look at, and large enough to feed a family, and sometimes fight each other.Â
shellfish, also huge. live space-lobsters big enough to eat a child. barrels of space crabs. No warning signs â you should know the risks.
if asked, they also have dried and spoiled/rotting fish/fish products in a dedicated back area. they have to be asked for, specifically, as theyâre not openly accessible to the public â and only mandoâade know to ask.
every Shakraan family (as most of these diasporic stores are family or clan/house run) has their own unique method and recipe to giâhaale reflective of their family history, origins and location
but the smell is strong and especially pungent from this end of the store
thereâs also a frozen fish/seafood section, separate from the live section.
SNACKS AND DRINKS
dried fruit. cookies. candies, usually flavored in mandalorian-specific spices or teas. dried sweetened roots. meat jerky. dried fish cut into thin strips. fish-flavored chips. everything has a spicy variation.
they all can be threatening-looking to aruettise (you got the standard snacks, and then some ⌠weirdly shaped ones. fish shaped ice cream sandwiches. caramelized insects. cookies filled with some kind of flavored creams shaped like native mandalorian wildlife â even extinct ones).
nothing is in standard alphabet â everything is labeled entirely in mandoâa. everything.
pastries have their entirely own section, separated by savory or sweet and shelf-life. also has spiced/spicy variations.Â
they have (non-alcoholic) drinks that are really popular among mandoâade â and theyâre always referred to with a soft nostalgic sigh.Â
theyâre usually softly spicy and/or sweet, with different flavor variations on top of the base sweet-or-spicy, with a unique opening mechanism that requires significant force to open the bottle in some way.
sometimes with a knife. sometimes with a fist. never simple â to those not used to nor expecting it.
all of the above is organized by shelf life, specifically, even if the local diaspora is considered a fixed community, mandalorians were once a nomadic culture and thus food culture still carries this idea of longevity.
TEA AND SPICES
mandalorians are HUGE on tea and spices, btw (they have at least two words for tea, and the implication is that tea is very common part of the culture. Iâll compile a post discussing this in the future) in addition to spices. they have at LEAST one long aisle dedicated to tea, and another to spices if not an block of the store. sometimes itâs the whole Shakraan, depending.
the labels are entirely mandoâa, again
separated by type, originating locale, and price
if a dedicated tea section, will have a local expert with vast knowledge in multiple areas (including traditional remedies). he can assist if asked.
dedicated section is also close/near dedicated spices section. sometimes the experts of both work in tandem with each other to assist customers.
also a section dedicated solely to teaware and ceramics (plates, bowls, spoons, etc). itâs a small part of the aisle, or a small wall, but itâs usually from floor to ceiling
I got to visit a Moroccan medina once and there were cats everywhere. I have a photo running around of one very clever (and smug) fuzzball who had set himself up right next to a fish seller.
Now, the feel I get from the above post is definitely an Asian market sort of setting. I was in and out of a big Asian grocery store called Uwajimaya when I lived in Seattle all the time, and I witnessed/experienced quite a lot of those things.Â
(I frigginâ loved it. I made a point of always finding and trying one new thing every time I went in. 9 times out of 10 whatever new thing I found was delicious. 1 time in 10 I picked something that was just a little too out there for my weak white ass XD But it was fun anyway)
Never saw a cat lurking in Uwajimaya, Iâm sad to say.
( @izzyovercoffee, donât mind me, just gonna run off with your headcanon here.)
Prefacing this with âI am new to digging into the Mandalorian culture stuff and donât actually know their cultural relationships with animals but if they are inclined to liking and co-habitating with small fuzzy self-domesticating murderbeasts then this is what I envisionâ
A shakraan cat probably looks smug as fuck, is never seen during the two-hour pre-closing rush, and is a common sight in the fish section. Skakraan employees probably spend a lot of time shooing them away from the tanks (except the lobster tanks, the cats all know not to mess with the lobsters) but the cats just go ânah fuck you I do what I wantâ and keep coming back.
They probably donât protest too hard when one of the gutsy little fuzzballs actually manage to make off with a large/armored/toothy enough to eat it whole fish. Because that takes skills.
Shakraan cats work to keep rodents away from the store and recognize regular customers and will go right up to regulars they like insisting on being petted and twining around ankles.
You can recognize a shakraan with very friendly cats by the fact that there are many more jetpacks in use than usual as customers try not to trip on them.
If you have your meat or fish butchered on-site, the cats will learn to recognize you faster and come try to charm trimmings out of you/the butcher.
I was just thinking about this post and remembering that down in Macon Georgia thereâs this place called The Fish House. Thereâs a small fleamarket in the parking lot midweek, but mostly, like the name implies, they sell fish (in summer you can smell the place down the block).
This place is in a kind of terrible neighborhood (okay, no joke a really BAD neighborhood) but itâs been there for like 50 years and theyâre not gonna move.
They were having trouble with people breaking in at night, so the owner started leaving his massive Shar Pei in to guard the place. Unsurprisingly, the break-ins stopped.
SO now Iâm picturing shakraan dogs sleeping downstairs to dissuade the usual idiots from breaking in, because you just know that these little markets are all in bad neighborhoods. Huge hulking beasts named âSpiceâ and âMuffinâ and âCrusherâ that are perfectly friendly during operating hours, but force kriffing help you once they switch on to guard and you put one toe in the door when youâre not supposed to be there.
Occasionally there are the Mandalorian equivalent to the tourist knife shops. The stores that have tons of cool looking knives and weapons on display for the gullible travelers to marvel at as âreal Mandalorian weaponsâ, and they they buy it at a massive markup.
While they look cool, all the guns and knives that look fanciest are mostly cheap knockoffs for the gullible or the cheap looking for a quick weapon.
For safety purposes, the owners of the shop arenât officially âMandaloriansâ, just pawn shop owners who happen to collect a lot of âMandalorianâ weapons.
But if you want the real shit you gotta have a calm disposition, speak a little bit of Mandoâa, and maybe have a clan signet to prove youâre not gonna immediately use those weapons on an immediate family member.
When you prove youâre on the up and upâŚand that you can payâŚthen they take you out back, or to the basement, where youâll find stuff thatâs a lot less flashy, but a helluva lot more functional. Old clone wars guns that can still knock a droid down from half a mile away. A knife that isnât beskar but the shopkeep swears on his life is almost as good. Maybe not a jet pack, since those are hard as hell to find, and ainât no mando giving that shit up without a fight, but maybe a pair of rocket boots that some old friend of the clan sold off a while back for booze money.
Paymentâs in whatever barter system the galaxy is working on at the moment, or in favors. Family discounts apply, clan members get 5% off, first cousins or closer get 25% off and a power pack, siblings get 30% and first dibs, siblings you like get gear for free.
But if youâre shopping and you donât have the credits, spice, or hypermatter to bargain with, be warned, you trade a favor for something good, and the shopkeep is going to collect with interest. And Mandos have LONG memories. Even if the guy you owe dies, your debt goes to the clan, so if you borrow a gun from some mando with a fur cape, donât be surprised if 10 years later another mando with a tiny green child running from the law cashes in that check.
The system works, though occasionally non-mandos work their way into the system.
Sometimes internal forces shift the market. House Kryze may have been pacifist, but they traded their share of favors to keep it that way. Many a âMandalorianâ knife shop was quietly bought out by a government shell company during Mandaloreâs pacifist era, though most came back by the end of the clone wars.
Sometimes external forces step in. The Empire, while always glad to gain Mandalorian assistance in its wars, much preferred that the Mandalorian people used Imperial weapons. This was the point where most shops developed their moreâŚtouristyâŚfronts, to better avoid having stormtroopers knocking at their door.
And sometimesâŚthere are just wanderers. People here and there with just enough Mandoâa and clan knowledge to access the real market, and just little enough connections that nobodyâs quite sure what clan they actually belong to. Every shopkeep worth their salt has at least two things they keep close to their chest if they want to survive. One, a good gun under their counter, because the galaxy is a dangerous place. And two, in a locked box, or in a breast pocket, or in a locket, a holo-number with a fake name attached to it. Itâs not always something particularly interesting. Sometimes itâs a friend, or next of kin, someone they can trust will bail them out if things get rough. But nine times out of ten, itâs a favor. Someone who walked in, looking just desperate enough to promise something important in exchange for what they need, looking just honorable to agree to terms, and looking just hardened enough that they could follow through on that promise.
Itâs their version of a Hail Mary pass if all else goes wrong. Often those favors lie in wait for years, decaying and rotting, until their owners are nigh certain that nobody is left to cash it in.
âŚbut shopkeepers tend to be good judges of characters. And Mandalorians arenât the only ones who believe in repaying their debts.
On one of the less flashy, but more reputable parts of Nal Hutta, a cashier had the name âFettâ and a number scrawled onto her arm for thirty years. When the owner of the shop finally hit her one too many times, she called the number begging for help. The broken man sheâd clothed and fed was long gone, but families pay debts on Mandalore, and the shop owner had a mysterious accident within the week.
On a distant moon near Lothal, thereâs a shopkeep who has a comm code and the name âFulcrumâ locked in a safe near his back door. When the Empire came for him, he barely managed to call the holo before he was thrown into a prison transport. The Torgruta heâd hidden from the Empire never showed. But Mandalorian fighters bearing the insignia of Clan Wren did, knocking his transport out of the sky and freeing him. He would later learn that his was not the only debt that was settled that day.
On one of the driest, most desolate parts of Mandalore, a street vendor of particularly poor disposition had a communicator inscribed with the word âDuchessâ on it. When his daughter caught an disease, of which there was no cure in the entire city, he used it, even though he full well knew the young woman who he had loant a speeder to decades ago was long dead. To his surprise, his daughterâs case was miraculously elevated to top priority, and she was shuttled offworld to Coruscant, where she made a full recovery. His daughter never had to set foot in his plague ridden city again, thanks to a recommendation to an arts college with the singular of House Kryze and House Vizla stamped on it. He never questioned his miracle, and he never found out that his favor was fulfilled less because of obligation, and more out of a guilt that only family can possess.
And on one of the quietest, most remote parts of the outer rim, at a market on the edges of Mos Eisley, there was a quiet Mandalorian vendor. Sheâd outlived the Republic, and while she didnât know it, she would outlive the Empire too. Sheâd never sold guns, or knives, not like other members of his clan. She only sold what little durian fruit she could get, and eked out a meager living. One wouldnât expect a woman like that to hold too many favors, and those she did, she let drift away. No point holding onto gold if you never intend to use it, after all. But there wasâŚoneâŚthing. For almost twenty years, an old man in a robe had walked into Mos Eisley. He never seemed to have a job, yet never seemed to go hungry. He could convince a man of almost anything, but he almost never spoke. And he never carried a blaster, yet never seemed afraid of journeying to the seedier parts of town.
And he LOVED durians.
So every week, for almost twenty years, this stranger came to buy one ripe durian from her, and chat. His Mandoâa was impeccable, too impeccable to have not been taught in the Core, and his memories of Mandalore were too vivid to ignore. The first time he came to buy a fruit, the vendor asked him how heâd gained a taste for durians. They were mandalorian, after all, and were a bit of an acquired taste for outsiders. After a bit of quiet consideration, the man answered with a story of, princesses, knights, and a desolate world split asunder.
The vendor gave him a fruit for free.
Once turned into a habit. Stories for fruit. An equitable exchange in the vendorâs opinion, and the man seemed to think so too, as he kept coming back.
For almost twenty years this fruit vendor listened to this strange man tell him stories, that were just accurate enough to be true, and just fantastical enough to keep the vendor from repeating them.
But then the Empire came.
The man wasâŚnot skittish, skittish gets you mugged in Mos Eisley, but he was unnerved by the presence of stormtroopers. The man no longer wandered freely in Tatooineâs streets. Where before he barely talked in public, now he never did.
âŚbut the man still loved durians. So every week, heâd appear, almost out of thin air, always when the stormtrooper patrols were gone, and heâd spin his stories for durians.
One day, the man looked at her strangely after their exchange of fruit and prose, and expressed that he really didnât think their exchange was fair to the vendor. The vendor waved him off, her old growly dialect of Mandoâa telling him to think nothing of it. Stories were worth their weight in spice anyway. The man still looked perturbed though, and instead of disappearing like he normally did, he quietly reached into his robe, and placed a crystalline cube on his table. âIf you like stories.â The man stated cryptically âKeep this safe. If you ever find someone who can open it, then you will know youâre in a story greater than yourself.â
Another day, the man stopped coming. A planet was destroyed, the empire was burned, and life continued much as it always had on Tatooine.
The vendor was disappointed, but all things must come to an end, so she continued on with her life, selling fruit.
ExceptâŚone dayâŚan orphan boy was running though the street, chasing a loth cat, as the vendor was lazily about to doze off. Suddenly, the cat was pulled through the air, into the boyâs arms where he cuddled it. The vendor double checked that her eyes hadnât deceived her, and that the boy had levitated the cat, before she quickly gestured for the boy to come over. She quietly rummaged about for the cube, and she she brought it out, asked the boy to concentrate. To the surprise of both of them, the cube flared to life, and the image of a very confused young man appeared in front of them, where the three of them had a lovely conversation.
Within a day, the young man had returned to his forgotten homeworld, and confirmed what she already knew about the boy. Preparations were made, and the boy was returned to Coruscant, where he would never have to think of sand or hunger again.
The vendor quietly handed the crystal cube back to the young man. Debts had to be repaid, after all, and the artifact belonged to his order, not her.
He refused. âWhy would I need it back? Iâll be visiting soon enough anyway.â
He took off with the boy without explaining, and the vendor was left confused.
She returned to her quiet life, selling her fruit.
âŚuntil a month later, when she looked up, and lo and behold, the young man was standing in front of her.
He proposed a deal. Heâd pay her for two durians, and sheâd only need to give him one, if she told him a story.
She agreed.
After all, it seemed reasonable to her.
She was a Mandalorian, and debts had to be repaid.
So she began to spin a tale to the young man, of a quiet stranger named Kenobi, who would come to her stand every week for twenty years, spinning stories for durians.