26 (edited by Adeptus_Astartes Wednesday, April 16, 2008 3:54 am)

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

ok....I'm reading this THIS WEEKEND WHEN I HAVE TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!.....RIght after I finish that Strill drawing...

I feel bad that I stopped...

[i]The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed[/i]
[url=http://lfgcomic.com/page/1]Interrogations are hard...[/url]

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

Adeptus_Astartes wrote:

ok....I'm reading this THIS WEEKEND WHEN I HAVE TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!.....RIght after I finish that Strill drawing...

I feel bad that I stopped...

No worries, vod; it's not goin' anywhere.  Just glad you liked what you read before enough to start again    smile

"You set a code to live by.  I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted...I won't be laid a hand on.  I don't do these things to other men, and I require the same from them."

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

I got the information about the age of stormtroopers from either Bloodlines or True Colors (or both) I remember Tan We (in Bloodlines) saying something about industrial clonesbeing grown quicker for the use of mining and other stuff. and in True Colors (i think) I heard Kal saying something about other clone armys and saying they wernt as good becasue they were grown in like 5 years. But all of this information is sketchy, and i could be 100% wrong. So you should check it out for yourself. (if you have the books, which Im sure you do.)

[i]"Sir, Finishing this Cake."[/i]

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

Mandal_ShadowWarrior wrote:

(if you have the books, which Im sure you do.)

lol, no, I don't.  I have Bloodlines, but havn't even started it yet.  I want to get deeper into the EU, but just havn't found the time yet. 

Hope you liked the last chapter; I'll post another before too long

"You set a code to live by.  I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted...I won't be laid a hand on.  I don't do these things to other men, and I require the same from them."

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

I"m VERY sorry it's taken so long to post this; I know I told some of you it would be up long ago, and truely regret I didn't come through for those who were reading this.  Here's chapter 7 for those still interested

Chapter 7

Colonel Caldrone patiently stood behind the Chief Inspector as he and his staff studied a holo map of the compound.  Darkness had fallen outside the control building nearly two hours ago; still, Guntah tirelessly checked his subordinate’s reports and made sure all sectors of the compound had been inspected.  Much to Caldrone’s relief, his subordinates had carried out his orders to the letter.  Many sectors had been removed from the map, ensuring Guntah and his fellow pests would only inspect the sites Caldrone wanted them to see.  Excess prisoners were crammed into the hidden sites, fresh bedding and supplies were issued to the barracks that might be inspected, and the worksites were made safer.  Despite his sore feet, caused from following the Chief Inspector from site to site, Caldrone’s mind was at ease.  Yet again, he had fooled this green skinned thing.  Just as he had done on his other inspections here, the Ithorian poured over the holo map in a vain search for something he had missed.  When he finally gives up, he’ll gather his team and return to his ship, disappointed over failing yet again to find anything wrong with the operation.

Guntah turned his tired eyes to Fin, who walked into the control room from the landing pad.  He whispered something to Guntah that Caldrone couldn’t make out.  When he finished, he handed Guntah a data pad.  The Chief Inspector seemed to respond, then turned back to Caldrone.

As Fin turned and started to gather the team, Guntah looked into the base commander’s eyes.  “Colonel, could we speak somewhere private.” 

Slightly surprised by the request, Colonel Caldrone motioned toward the turbo lift.  “Of course, come to my office.” 

As the pair stepped into the lift, Caldrone tried to figure out what this could be about.  Usually, the Chief Inspector would give his goodbyes and parting warnings there in the control tower. 

The two silently rode the lift down to the lower levels of the command center, Guntah studying the datapad he’s received from his assistant.  When the lift stopped at the fourth sub-level, they stepped into the dimly lit hallway and walked the short distance to Caldrone’s office.  Entering the office’s waiting room, Caldrone observed Captain Gran’ell. 

Waving Guntah into the office, Caldrone approached the now standing captain.  “Anything wrong, captain?”
“No sir.  Just thought I would get you caught up on things since your return from the city.  I have an appointment.”

“Ah yes; CZ-37 told me something about it.  I’ll see you as soon as the Chief Inspector leaves.”

“As you wish, sir.”  Returning to his seat as the office door closed behind the colonel, Gran’ell smiled as he pondered his coming meeting.

Dropping into his plush chair, Caldrone offered one of the chairs before his desk. 

Guntah refused it, preferring to stand.  Looking at his host, he was slightly repulsed by Caldrone’s fat, conceited grin.  “Well, it seems everything is in order.  I will be taking my leave of you as soon as my team has been gathered.”

“Well it’s been a real pleasure having you here, Chief Inspector.  Nothing better than to have your efforts cleared by someone as high up as you.”

“I’m sure.  Before I leave, however, there is something we must discuss.”

“Anything at all, Chief Inspector.”

“I will be leaving my assistant and a team of inspectors here.  They will observe the new prisoners as they settle into the camp and unofficially take charge of the facility.”
The self-satisfied smirk on Caldrone vanished.  “Are you crazy?  You and you’re team are civilians; you don’t have the authority to relieve me of command, no matter what you find here.” 

“Quite true.  However, General Bron Travid does.  As commanding general of this quadrant, he has authorized me to select some members of my team to remain and see that things are run smoothly until the new base commander arrives.”

Caldrone jumped to his feet, sending his chair crashing to the back wall of his office.  “You’re a liar!  I would have been informed of any such orders.”  Caldrone’s smirk was replaced by a hateful glare.  “You have nothing; you have no authority to take my command, and I must kindly ask you to leave my camp.”

“I will go, but my team will remain.  You should receive the communication from General Travid about your current status any moment n…..”

Caldrone turned pale when a soft tone sounded from his datapad, which was lying on his desk.  Picking it up, he read on the screen that there was a priority message inbound from command.  “I don’t understand; why wasn’t I warned?”

“Perhaps your friends who have been warning you about my surprise inspections failed to appreciate how much this would affect you.  Or perhaps they had their own problems.”

Caldrone looked up into Guntah’s small black eyes.  “What are you talking about?”

“It seems your friend, Stam Kadesh, was being investigated for having considerably more credits then he could have ever saved from his pay.  After he was caught trying to escape to Hutt space, he reveled to the authorities that you had paid him to warn you about my activities.  He also gave up the names of several other officers who were doing the same thing.”

Colonel Caldrone stared into space as he pondered his next move.  Slowly rolling his chair back to his desk, Caldrone collapsed back into his seat.  “What happens now?”

“As you and your command staff are all under suspicion, control of the facility will move to the personnel I leave behind until the arrival of the Sullust prisoners.  The officer in charge of their transfer will take command on arrival.  If you cooperate with my people and reveal all of your crimes and associates, you will be allowed to retire quietly rather then face a court-martial.” 

Caldrone squirmed as he answered.  “Alright.”

“You will also not attempt to escape.  If you do, you will be hunted down and be made an example of.  Trust me when I tell you that the life of a fugitive is not one I would wish on anyone.”

Caldrone, his shoulders and head slumped, blankly gazed at his desk.  “Is that all?”

“It is.”  Guntah looked to the door as it slid open. 

Fin walked in and stood before Guntah.  “All personal except those remaining behind with me are on board; the ship’s crew says they are ready to leave on your order, sir.”  Fin shot a quick look toward Colonel Caldrone, who was still staring at his desk, as he finished his report. 

“Excellent.  Wait for me in the hall, please.  I will be out shortly.”

“Yes Chief Inspector.”

As the door slid shut behind Fin, Guntah looked back toward Colonel Caldrone.  “I am sorry it had to be like this, colonel.  I only hope something constructive can be formed out of all this.” 

“Why do you care?”

The question stopped Guntah as he was stepping into the doorway to leave.  Turning back around, the Chief Inspector met Caldrone’s glazed eyes, which had lifted to meet Guntah’s. 

“They’re stormtroopers; each likely guilty of the most unthinkable brutality.  Why does it matter to you if I make a few credits off them here and there?”

Guntah stared back at Caldrone for a moment before he answered.  He really doesn’t understand why it is wrong.  “Because it is the right thing to do; and because it is something they would not do for us if circumstances were reversed.  I hope someday you will realize for your self why I care.”

Colonel Caldrone watched Guntah walk out of his office and through the adjacent waiting room until his view was cut off by the closing of his door.  He must be out of his mind.


“How’s he taking it, sir,” asked Fin as he and the Chief Inspector walked down the hall toward the turbo lift.

“Not well.  He will try to escape.”  As they stepped into the lift, Guntah turned to Fin as they started to rise toward the landing pad level.  “Remember, you are not to try and stop him.  You should even avoid him; especially if none of your fellow inspectors are with you.  Though General Travid has contacted the other officers of this facility and informed them of your authority as temporary base commander, they may still follow an order from Caldrone to have you held or even killed.  Many may even be in league with Caldrone, though I do not sense it.  Your only concern is that everything goes smoothly until the Sullust transports arrive.”

“Understood, Chief Inspector.”

When they reached the ground level, Guntah and Fin stepped out and started for the exit.  “It may also be a . . .” Before Guntah could finish what he was saying, he suddenly felt the presence of a human behind him in the lift.  Turning, he fully expected to see one of Caldrone’s men standing at his back.  But as he looked into the turbo lift, he could see no one.

“Is something wrong, Chief Inspector,” asked Fin. 

Strange.  “It is nothing.”  Still feeling the presence of another, Guntah continued out of the control tower and on to the waiting Star Flyer.  “The commander of the Sullust prisoner transports will be alerted about his new assignment as soon as he drops out of hyperspace.  Until he arrives, it would be a good idea to order all land clearance and construction projects halted; the less activity to be monitored, the smoother the transition will be tomorrow.” 

“It will be done.”

As the pair approached the Star Flyer, the converted star yacht began to warm up its engines.  Guntah extended his long, thin arm and placed his hand on Fin’s shoulder.  “Be safe, my friend.”

“I will Chief Inspector.  This mission will be accomplished, I promise.”

“I’m sure it will.  I will send a shuttle for you and the others as soon as the base is in the proper hands.” With that, Guntah started up the loading ramp.  He watched as Fin turned a walked back to the control tower.  Stopping just short of the access hatch, he stared as Fin entered the light gray building.  Why do I sense that I will never see you again?


Caldrone busily collected his essential files and affects.  I’ll have to wait till I’m off planet before checking my bank accounts.  That overgrown slug has probably had all my communication links taped.  With his briefcase in hand, Caldrone stepped into the waiting room. 

“Colonel; you haven’t forgotten our appointment, have you?”

Stopping short of the exit, Caldrone looked to his left into the grinning face of Captain Gran’ell.  “Captain, this isn’t the best time; if you could come back tomorrow I’ll see you then.

Standing, Gran’ell stepped in front of CZ-37’s desk.  “This really can’t wait.”

“Something has come up that requires my attention, so if you don’t mind . . .”

Before Caldrone could finish, Captain Gran’ell stepped within reaching distance of the colonel.  “You don’t understand, you don’t have an option,” said Gran’ell in a low voice, his hand resting on his holstered blaster pistol.  “You do want hear what I have to say, and we are going to discuss it right now.”

You asked for it.  I suppose I have enough time to deal with you.  Checking his datapad for the time, Caldrone sighed and waved to his office.  “Very well.”  Walking back into the office, Caldrone set his briefcase next to his desk before sitting.

Gran’ell waited for the door to close behind them before taking one of the chairs in front of Caldrone’s desk.  Folding his hands in his lap, he leaned back and cleared his throat before beginning.  “I have a business proposition for you, Colonel.”

“Really; in the waiting room it sounded like you had a set of orders to give me.”

“Not at all, colonel.  You have complete freedom of choice in this matter.  You see, while you were away, I happened to come in here and study some of your records.  I found some things on your computer that verified several notions I had about our little operation here.”

“Is that a fact?”  Caldrone emotionlessly stared back at Gran’ell.  The colonel rested his left arm on the edge of his desk and his right hand on his thigh, out of Gran’ell’s view.

“It is.”  Gran’ell continued to radiate confidence.  “My proposal is simple.  Several of my men and I wish to rejoin the war effort.  What you do with the stormtroopers here is your business; we could care less what you do with them.  However, if you’re ever caught, our records might be affected along with yours.  Therefore, I suggest a trade; your signature on a transfer order for my friends and myself for the information I took.”

“You really do take me for a fool, don’t you?  Well get this; you’re the fool.”  Caldrone leaned forward and sneered at his second in command.  “I was aware of your snooping into my files as soon as I got back from Taris.  Those files you stole, they’re fake.  I planted them for some idiot like you to find.  All the figures on the records you took match early construction expenses.”

The smile had disappeared from Captain Gran’ell, and his tense right hand was resting a little closer to the blaster strapped to his leg.  “No matter; I still know about your ‘loaning’ operations.  If you refuse to transfer us back into combat units, I’ll take everything I know and inform command.”

“I suspected this would happen someday.  I had an elaborate plan in mind where I would force you and anyone else in your little conspiracy to join my operation.  However,” Caldrone pulled his right hand from under the desk and rested it on his desktop, a small holdout blaster firmly in his grasp, “the Chief Inspector’s recent visit forces me to take a less tasteful course of action.” 

Gran’ell, eyes wide, leaped form his chair and grabbed for his blaster.  Though faster then Caldrone anticipated, the captain wasn’t fast enough.  Gran’ell had his DH-17 nearly out of its holster before a red energy bolt struck the Captain just above his heart.  Gran’ell was knocked back into his chair, which crashed backward down to the floor. 

Pushing a button on his desk to summon CZ-37, Caldrone walked around the desk to check Gran’ell.  Still sitting in the chair, his eyes blindly staring at the ceiling, Gran’ell lay dead on the floor.  Sticking the holdout blaster in his belt, Caldrone stepped back to his desk to retrieve his briefcase.  I told you to come back tomorrow, thought the colonel with a sick grin.  Hearing the door slide open behind him, Caldrone turned to give his droid its instructions.  “Take this silly looking . . .”
As Caldrone looked at the figure standing in the open doorway, a blaster bolt pierced his stomach.  Dropping his briefcase as he screamed in pain, Caldrone folded over and hit his knees.  Mouth agape and tightly holding his wound with both arms, a saucer eyed Caldrone looked up to see his attacker.

Using one hand to point his E-3 blaster rifle at Caldrone, Mandalore Fett looked down at the corpse of Captain Gran’ell.  Picking up the captain’s DH-17, he examined the weapon and flicked off its safety.  Holding it in his left hand, he extended his arm in front of the hidden holo cam and fired.  Slipping the blaster between his armor and belt, Mandalore grabbed the panel by the hole created by the blaster shot and tore it from the wall.  Examining the destroyed camera, he found that it had a single information feed linked to Caldrone’s desk computer.  With his helmet mounted security scanners picking up no other hidden devices, Fett stepped into the office and crouched in front of Caldrone.  “Your droid is indisposed at the moment, so I came in his stead.”  Mandalore tilted his head as he looked down at the colonel’s wound.  “You’re not looking well at all, colonel.  I think it would be best if I took charge of the prisoners for a time.”  Standing, Mandalore slung his rifle onto his shoulder.  “I need your access code to the base central computer.  And no games, if I can’t get it from you one way, I’ll use another.”

“Will you help me,” Caldrone managed to stammer.

The black visor of Mandalore’s scared battle helm continued to emotionlessly look down at Caldrone.  “I will help you.”

“Access code; it’s . . . AHRRR,” Caldrone slipped from his knees and fell against the desk.  Propping himself against the side of the desk, Caldrone forced his brain to remember the access code over the intense pain.  “The code is 21 . . . 58 . . . uh, 9374.  Now help me; please!”

Mandalore crushed Caldrone’s holdout blaster under his heel as he stepped in around the colonel and accessed the computer terminal.  As the base interface and command controls came up, Mandalore hooked up a transmission receiver to the computer.  “Excellent.”

As Mandalore stepped around the desk, Caldrone looked up into the barrel of a disrupter pistol.  He only had time to widen his eyes in horror before the weapon’s muzzle glowed red. You will never control those who have walked on the field of honor again, thought Mandalore as the man disintegrated before him. 

As the door opened for Mandalore as he approached, he pulled a thermal wielding strip from one of the pouches on his belt.  Carefully avoiding the obstacle sensors that prevent the door from closing on any slow moving guests, he attached the strip to the door’s edge and around the locking mechanism.  As Mandalore stepped away, the door closed on the strip, which fused it to the durasteel frame. 

As sparks were still flying from the doorframe, Mandalore had already started to remove the head of Caldrone’s secretary droid, CZ-37.  The smoke from the door joined that coming from the droid’s overloaded circuits, which had been caused by the ion blast Mandalore hit it with when he first entered the waiting room.  When the cranial unit came free, he reached in and delicately removed the intelligence matrix from the droid’s verbobrain.  With the device tucked into his pants pocket, Mandalore replaced it with a smaller device.  Hooking the small, yellow chip he had pulled from his belt to the droid’s photoreceptors, memory bank, and vocabulator, Mandalore then reattached the droid’s head to its frame.  Pulling a power charger from his pack, Mandalore attached it to the droid’s power jack and fired a burst of energy into its circuitry.  Returning his equipment to its proper place, Mandalore silently watched as the droid convulsed in its chair. 

When the droid’s shaking finally subsided, its dark photoreceptors turned to Mandalore.  “Master?”

“Colonel Caldrone,” responded Mandalore.



The droid’s head bobbed slightly as it processed the orders it had just received.  When it finished, its new hardware went to work.  “Colonel Caldrone is busy, please leave your name and I will make an appointment for you.”

Perfect.  His mission complete, Mandalore turned to leave. 


Lieutenant Beran, the on duty watch officer, suspiciously watched Fin as the new base commander studied the camp’s layout on a holo map.  Giving a stormtrooper prison to an Imperial clone; what’s the New Republic coming to? 

Hearing the turbo lift door open behind him, Beran looked over his shoulder.  Ready to bawl someone out for coming up the observation deck at this time of night without his permission, he was surprised to see no one.  Looking inside, he checked the controls for a malfunction.

Noticing the lieutenant’s interest in the lift, Fin shifted his attention from the map.  “What’s wrong?”

“This lift; it shouldn’t come up here without a passenger.  It should only be here if called by someone on this level or if someone gets inside and uses the access code for this level.”  Finding nothing wrong with the controls, Lieutenant Beran made his way the communications panel.  “Someone must be playing around down there.”

As the lieutenant argued with his subordinates on the lower levels, neither he, Fin, or the other members of the night watch noticed the dim light emitted from a jetpack that launched from the roof above them.


Sitting on the most comfortable rock he could find as he kept watch over the hanger entrance, UH 238 cradled one of the two still working A280 blaster rifles in his arms.

“If I was here to kill you . . .” came a familiar voice from behind.

Startled, UH 238 leapt to his feet and leveled the blaster at the dark figure standing directly behind him.

“. . . You would already be dead.”

UH 238 quickly lowered the blaster, recognizing his master.  “I’m sorry, Mandalore.”

“Collect your wits; a great task lies before us.  Come.” 

Following his leader down a hidden stairway into the hanger, the pair made their way to Slave I.

Entering his vessel, Mandalore began opening several hidden compartments.  Most were full of weapons; others concealed pieces of armor and other military gear. 

In one compartment, Rann found a complete set of stormtrooper armor.  “Where did you get all this?”

“You find all kinds of things while working as a bounty hunter; I keep anything I feel could be useful,” responded Mandalore as he opened the last compartment.  “I have twenty five blaster rifles and twelve pistols including this.”  Pulling the DH-17 from his belt, he switched the safety back on and tossed the weapon to Rann.  “That should be enough to get things started.”

“What exactly is it we’re going to start?” asked a confused UH 238.

Looking back at his followers, Mandalore Fett grinned behind the T-visor of his helmet.  “The greatest Mandalorian Crusade in four thousand years.”  Glancing at the time readout in the upper left corner of the heads up display projected by his helmet, Mandalore reached into one of the compartments and handed UH 238 the Stormtrooper helmet.  “And we have roughly eight hours to set it in motion.”

"You set a code to live by.  I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted...I won't be laid a hand on.  I don't do these things to other men, and I require the same from them."

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

Ralin you're story is great. The only things I found a little out of place was Boba saying: "Are you insane?" I just can't imagine him saying that without circling someone like he was ready to pounce - but that's just me.

At first when you started calling Boba simply Mandalore I found it a bit odd, since Boba Fett is so attached to his reputation which is linked to his name, so I liked it when you started calling him Mandalore Fett.

Other than that, it's the best read I've had in ages! Keep it going big_smile

BFFC Moderator
It was like thousands of voices cried out for a sequel and were suddenly silenced...

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

Wow, you read it all already??  Glad you like  big_smile

"You set a code to live by.  I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted...I won't be laid a hand on.  I don't do these things to other men, and I require the same from them."

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

I don't muck about tongue Read it in one sitting, though it took a while wink

BFFC Moderator
It was like thousands of voices cried out for a sequel and were suddenly silenced...

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

I confess that I have not read all seven chapters in one sitting; however, I do think it is good writing whether or not it is completely "accurate".

A man's worst enemy can't wish on him what he can think up himself. Yiddish saying

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

Thanks Sharra, I really appreciate the comment    smile

Here's the next chapter.  After this one, I have only one more that's 'pre-written.'  Guess I'll have to get off my lazy butt and start writing again   tongue

Hope you like

Chapter 8

    Fin’s eyes instantly opened out of a dead sleep when the durasteel door to his room opened.  Throwing off his blanket and rising to his feet in a single motion, he faced the intruder. 

    The ‘intruder’ was a young private, who was so startled by Fin’s reaction that he almost fell back out of the room.

    Relieved that it wasn’t a gang of stormtrooper-hating soldiers come to kill him, Fin sat back down on the bunk he had been given and rubbed his eyes.  “What is it?”

    Regaining his composure, the trooper stood at attention before the base commander.  “Lieutenant Beran sent me.  He said that the transports will be here in about an hour and that you should come up to the command deck. 

    He had been up far too late the night before studying the camp’s layout.  Shaking the sleep from his head, Fin remembered that Lieutenant Beran had been up all night in the observation deck as well.  “Lieutenant Beran; wasn’t he the watch officer last night?” 

“Yes sir.”

“He stayed up longer then I did.”  Fin reached over and pulled his shirt from a small table that stood next to his bunk.  “Why isn’t he off duty now?”

“The most senior officer available must be on duty during prisoner arrivals.”

Pulling on his knee high boots, Fin looked up at the private.  “Beran isn’t the senior officer.  Where is the head of security?”

“Uh . . . I’m not at liberty to say,” stammered the private.

Coming to his feet, Fin lifted his robe from the chair he had draped it over.  Throwing it over his broad shoulders, Fin cast a stern glare at the private.  “Where is he?”

The private, trying to look anywhere but into the other man’s gaze, continued to stand at attention.  “I don’t know, sir.”

Fin stepped a little closer to the private.  “Does anyone know?”  As the private tried to decide how to answer, Fin confronted him with another question.  “Where is Colonel Caldrone?”

Obviously not expecting that question, the private returned Fin’s gaze with a blank look of confusion.  “In his quarters, I guess.  We haven’t seen him since . . .” the private stopped himself, realizing that he shouldn’t be talking about such matters, “that is, since you became the base commander.”

Turning to pick up his belt from a small table at the end of his bunk, Fin considered the situation.  The warrior side of his clone programming urged him to find Caldrone and whoever else had mistreated his brothers and take them out in some painful manner.  However, his stronger imprinted trait, his obedience to orders, still guided his actions.  Guntah’s parting warning of not trying to stop Caldrone if he tried to escape was still clear in his mind.  Very well.  If Gran’ell wants to join his commander in a life of hiding and fear, that’s his business.  “All right, private.  Take me to the command deck.”


The bright lights of the guard barracks compartment flicked on, causing those soldiers who had been sleeping on their backs to shield their eyes.  Those who had managed to remain asleep soon came to life thanks to the booming voice of the company’s top sergeant.  “Rise and shine!  Let’s see some life there, you lazy nerf herders!”  The sergeant slowly walked between the two rows of bunks, hands clasped behind his back, eyeing each of his trooper’s equipment as he passed. 

Standing in the entrance of the guard barracks, Captain Panah observed his men with pride.  They were good soldiers; none had given him cause for shame.  Every one had worked hard to improve their combat skills with the hope that they would be called up to join the war against the Empire.  Like him, they had just gotten a bad break being sent to guard the very enemies they wished to fight.  Too bad I have to tell them we’ll have to wait a little longer.

“Gather round, troops,” the presence of four females in the company kept Panah from calling his ‘men’ together, as he normally would have.  “I’m afraid I got some bad news when we dropped out of hyperspace a few minutes ago.  It seems that a situation has come up involving the command staff at the Taris facility.  I received a transmission from General Travid, commander of New Republic forces in this quadrant, ordering me to take command of the Taris facility upon arrival.  The order also states that all troops currently under my command are to remain at the Taris facility as well.”

Panah could see the look of disappointment spread across the faces of his troops like a shock wave.  “I know you all had high expectations about joining, or for some of us rejoining the war effort.  I know exactly how you feel.  However, we’re all professionals, and our job is to take orders and carry them out to the best of our abilities.  Hopefully this will only be a temporary setback.  Command may already be organizing a force to permanently take over the Taris camp, and their just using us as a temporary garrison.  Whatever the case, I know I can count on all of you to carry out your orders with the speed and commitment I’ve come to expect from you . . .” seeing that his speech hadn’t lifted anyone’s spirits, the captain cracked a smile. . . “Which isn’t much.”   

A few smiles broke out here and there, but the feeling of being let down was still heavy in the air.  Well, we’ll just have to get over it.  “This Imperial tub doesn’t make very good time, so you all have another couple hours before we break atmo.; estimated time of landing is 0820.  Since we’re going to be offloading ALL our gear, platoons one and two will handle the offloading of prisoners while three and four carry out our gear, so make sure if it's yours it's clearly marked if you ever want to find it again.  Platoons one and two, I expect you on the holding decks in full riot gear by 0800.  Clear!”

“CLEAR, SIR!” came the loud response from the portside of the barracks.

As Captain Panah turned and started for Zeta company’s sleeping quarters to start his speech over again, the troopers heard a loud voice from behind.  “You heard the captain!”  They looked around to see their sergeant and his typically unhappy glare.  “If any of you spice addicts in first or second platoon are late getting to the holding decks, I’m apt to get Old Republic on somebody’s BUTT!  So lets move!”


As the turbo lift’s door slid open, Fin was surprised to see so much activity in the command center.  The late night shift he'd seen before consisted of only five or six men and lieutenant Beran.  Now the large control room was buzzing with activity.   Avoiding the officers and personnel who were scurrying from one station to another, Fin managed to find Lieutenant Beran. 

“Busy day I see,” said Fin as he gazed out the tower’s north viewport at the landing pad.  The dark surface of the pad stretched as far as his vision could reach; only the durasteel wall that surrounded it could be seen in the distance. 

Examining a supply readout, Beran looked over his shoulder at Fin.  “We’re just about ready for the transfer.  Living space, supplies, and security have all been taken care of.  All that’s left to be done on our end is to get additional security in place for offloading and run a final sweep over the pad with the cleaning droids.”  Beran’s blood-shot eyes returned to the readout.

Fin casually watched one of the massive cleaning droids as it raced across the duracrete surface.  “How many of your shuttles are missing?”

Half ignoring the other man, Lieutenant Beran pointed out the location he wanted the supply operator to send the extra load of internment parcels.  “What are you talking about?”

“I gather that Colonel Caldrone and at least one other officer has left the facility.  How many ships did they take?”

Stretching his back as he straitened himself, Beran impatiently turned to Fin.  “In case you haven’t noticed, this is a prison facility.  There aren’t any transports stationed here.  That would violate our agreement with the Taris officials” he added sarcastically but truthfully.  “The only shuttles available to us are stationed in the Taris orbital facility, and those aren’t hyperspace capable.”   

“Fine, when did the Taris shuttle take the colonel out of the camp?”

“It didn’t; we haven’t had a Taris shuttle since Colonel Caldrone returned from his last visit to Taris just before the inspection last night.”  As Beran impatiently explained he moved to the security terminal to check the status of the prisoner transfer security detail. 

“Has one been requested?”

“The only way to request a shuttle from Taris is to use a top security clearance on that terminal,” Beran pointed toward an unmanned communications station next to the primary communications terminal.  “It can’t be accessed anywhere else on the station; and no one has used it since Colonel Caldrone’s last trip.”

Fin narrowed his eyes.  He was sure Caldrone and Gran’ell had made their move to escape, and was now confronted by the possibility that they hadn’t.  What’s going on here?  “Keep up the good work, Lieutenant.  I’ll be back.”

Beran ignored Fin as the base commander made his way to the turbo lift.  “Double-check with security station one.  They reported the transfer unit was in position, but I don’t see them at the gate.”

“Aye sir,” responded the corporal sitting at the station.  He adjusted his controls to contact the security center and barracks just outside the landing pad gate.  “Security station one, come in.”  A moment passed with no response.  “Security station one, please come in.”  Only static came back over the comm.

Lieutenant Beran was suddenly wide awake.   


“How long is the delay going to be?”

“Unknown; at least an hour.  Have your people ready to move but don’t bother leaving the barracks until ordered; it may be a longer wait then expected.  Control out.”

“Roger that; security station one out.”

As Mandalore turned his comm unit off, he commenced the power up sequence on Slave I and rotated the cockpit capsule into flying position.  Before charging up the shipboard weapons, he typed a command into his datapad, which was linked to Colonel Caldrone’s personal computer via the receiver Mandalore had attached to it. 

This should give them something to think about.


“Try the primary communications array; we can’t have lost contact with everyone.”  As soon as Lieutenant Beran completed his order, heavy durasteel blast shields suddenly slammed down over the transparisteel viewers that looked out over the camp and landing pad.  Darkness flooded the command deck, defeated only when the red emergency lights came to life.  The once busy control center was suddenly still, the eerie silence disturbed only by the sound of the turbo lift’s blast door motor as it sealed the entrance.     

Regaining his composure, one of the technical sergeants raced to the status board, Lieutenant Beran close behind.

Beran tried to keep up with the sergeant as he expertly scanned the four dozen or more power readings, damage reviews, computer diagnostics, and program reports.  When the sergeant finally stopped scrolling through the information before him, Beran turned to him.  “Well; why are we in emergency lockdown?”

Shaking his head slightly, the sergeant searched for an answer.  “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Brilliant, sergeant.  That solves everything.”  The sarcasm in Beran’s voice turned to frustration.  “What has happened to my command center; was it a power failure of some kind.”

“No sir.  A power fluctuation can trigger a security lockdown as a safety measure, but that isn’t what happened here.  The computer logs don’t show any such fluctuation.  I don’t believe this is an accident, sir.”

“Sabotage?”  The facility had had its share of technical glitches, and the thought that his could be anything but another one had been the last thing on Beran’s mind.

“Yes sir; look at this.  The command log shows that the security lockdown was ordered.  Same with communications; a command was issued to the base computer ordering it to sever all forms of communication throughout the entire command building.  I would say that the computer is going off the deep end and ordered itself to do all this, but it just doesn’t add up.  The command is right there!  As if someone sat here and punched in the order!  The only other way the order would show up in the log like this is if someone remotely accessed the system.”

“That’s not possible, is it!?” demanded Beran.  “The only access terminals to the computer that can control those functions are in this room!”

One of the sergeant’s assistants, a young Nautolan corporal, stepped forward.  “Ah, sir; I’m afraid it is possible.”
Turning around, Beran looked into the green skinned man’s dark eyes.  “What do you mean?”

“Over a year ago, when Colonel Caldrone’s office was finished, he had me hook up his personal computer to the central core.”

Beran narrowly avoided exploding.  Controlling himself, he narrowed his gaze on the Nautolan.  “Can we access the connection you made?”

“No sir.  I tapped directly into the computer core on sub level three.  That’s the way he told me to do it!”

Rubbing his face in frustration, Beran walked away from the others.  Taking a deep breath, he looked at the command personnel.  “I need options, and I need them now.”

Looking down at his console in despair, the sergeant in charge of the security station looked down at his console.  “Sir, something’s happening!”

Beran and most of the others ran to the station.  “What is it?”

“The status lights are indicating that the guard stations are reporting that they are locking down and ready for orbital bombardment.”

Lieutenant Beran stepped back, utterly baffled.  “Sith’s blood; what is going on here!”


“He did it!”  Rann watched as the security teams who had been patrolling the prisoner barracks areas ran toward the nearest security center. 

Looking back into the barracks, he saw over one hundred of his brothers looking back, ready for the order to move.  Others were in the back trying to help those troopers who were having trouble waking from the haze they had lived in for over two years.

“You troopers in the back stay here and protect your brothers.  Join us only if they all wake and can travel.  We’ll come back for you if necessary.”

One of the clones stood at attention.  “Yes sir.”

Looking back out the door, Rann watched as the last of the guards ran out of sight.  Opening the barracks door, he readied the blaster rifle Mandalore had given him and slowly walked out.  On the other side of the centrally placed mess hall, UH 238 stepped out of another barracks, two other clones behind him.  Convinced that the last of the guards were gone, Rann gave UH 238 a hand signal and ran back to the barracks entrance. 

“Alright, first five.”  With that command, the first five clones came out of the barracks.  “Do you remember what to do?”

“Yes sir,” responded the lead trooper.  “We each confront one of our brothers, get his full attention, and we tell them about the return of Jango Fett’s son.”

“Good; go to that barracks.  Next five!”


After spending several minutes trying to force the turbo lift door to slide open, Fin stepped back to rethink the problem.  "I’ll never open it this way.[/i]  Reexamining the keypad at his right, he felt like a complete idiot for not seeing the red emergency open button earlier.  Jabbing his finger into it, he heard the turbo lift’s door open and started to leave, but nearly walked into the blast door that now blocked his way.  What the. . .

Sliding his hand across the cold durasteel, Fin examined the barrier.  Clenching his fist, he pounded on the door a few times hoping to make enough noise to get someone’s attention.  Thick; probably no one could have heard that even if they had had their ear to the door.

Sitting down on the lift’s hard floor, he decided to wait for rescue.   As the pain subsided from his hand, he looked up at the illumination panels on the lift’s ceiling.  I wonder. . . 

Getting back to his feet, he stood under one of the panels, Fin leapt for it.  Barely within his reach, he felt the panel move when his fingertips hit it.  After several more attempts, however, he was unable to nock the panel from its position and grab the edge.     
Fin squinted at the panel through the glare of its light as he rested his legs.  Maybe this’ll work.  Backing up against the blast door, he ran at the lift’s back wall.  Jumping at the wall, he kicked off of it and stretched for the panel.  Fully extended, he punched his fist into the fixture, killing the light and knocking it out of its position, revealing the hidden access panel.  Coming down hard on his side, he quickly got back to his feet.  After two more tries, he was able to get a secure hold on the edge of the open panel space.  Pulling himself through, he looked up into the dark turbo shaft.  Turning around, he saw a ladder that ran next to the lift and stretched into the darkness above.  Looking back into the turbo lift through the porthole he had just pulled himself through, Fin briefly considered his options. 

Why not he thought to himself as he started upward.


As the men in his section finished preparing their makeshift defenses around one of the outer defense bunkers, Sergeant JC 225 looked over his shoulder at Captain Hikara and the trooper who was operating a salvaged communications pack.  The captain was frantically pacing back and forth, occasionally glaring at the trooper as he tried to contact one of the Star Destroyers somewhere overhead.  Behind them, the fire still raged where the shield generator complex once stood.  Nearby, the one AT-AT that had been planet-side peacefully lay on its side like a resting animal.  One of the few survivors of the explosion said the mechanical behemoth was lifted off of its feet and carried about twenty meters when the shockwave from the shield generator’s energy core went thermal.

Looking up into the blue Endor sky, the glowing cloud that had once been the second Death Star could no longer be seen.  According to the reports that the trooper was able to intercept the Death Star was totally vaporized, taking all on board.  The only question that mattered now was whether or not the Emperor had escaped before the explosion.

“Sir, I’m getting something.  It’s a Captain Pallaeon of the Chimaera.  He says that . . .”

“Yes?  Spit it out, you fool!”

The trooper, who had been kneeling over the scorched communications pack, suddenly went limp.  Falling backward, he let the receiver slip from his hand. 

Running past the fallen trooper, Captain Hikara snatched up the communicator.  “This is Captain Hikara; repeat please!”

JC 225 and most of the other troopers openly stared at the captain.  Of the nearly one thousand clones still alive and preparing for a final battle, they all feared they knew what news could have affected their brother in such a way. 

“But you can’t leave us here; we’ll be trapped! Wait, why can’t you just. . . are you there?!  Come in; does anyone read me?!”  With fear engulfing his wide eyes, Captain Hikara dropped the communicator next to the battered pack as he stood.  “They’ve left us; left us to die!”

JC 225 stepped forward from his men.  “Sir, what about Lord Vader or the Emperor?  Did either of them escape the Death Star?”

Panic began to set into the captain as he tried to think of something to do.  “Must think of something; must do something.”  Unlike the officers of JC 225’s company, this man seemed to be a sniveling coward.  Not even an Army captain, Captain Hikara was however the only officer that escaped the destruction of the main complex. 
Suddenly, the captain’s eyes lit up.  “Surrender!  Yes, that’s my only option.  With a little convincing, I might even be able to defect to their side. . .”

A gloved hand grabbed Hikara by the shoulder and spun him around.  He found himself staring into the polarized black visor of the sergeant’s scout trooper helmet.  “Did Lord Vader or the Emperor escape the battle?!”

“No. . .” he barley was able to squeal; “they're dead!  They're all dead!”  Realizing who he was talking to, Hikara regained his composure and slapped the sergeant’s hand away.  “And you will be to if you ever touch me like that again!  I need another communications trooper who can contact the . . .”

Looking around, Captain Hikara saw his clone troopers dropping their weapons and falling to the ground.  “What’s wrong with all of you?!  I order you to get up!”  The only troopers with all their senses were the non-clone volunteer stormtroopers and the sergeant clones.  The rest were oblivious to the commands being shouted at them. 

“Blast; I’ll do it myself.”  But as Captain Hikara reached for the comm pack’s communicator, a black leather boot stepped on its connecting wire.  Looking up, he was again confronted by the sniper.  “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Sir, I can’t allow you to surrender to the Rebels.  We must make a stand and die with honor as Lord Vader would have willed.”

With a hateful sneer, Hikara laughed.  “As Vader would have willed; it wouldn’t surprise me.  I have a news flash for you, sergeant.  The Emperor is DEAD, and I’M in command here.  You can join him if you wish,” Hikara pulled his blaster from its holster and pointed it just above the sergeant’s visor, “But I’m surrendering.  Now stand aside!” 

Before the standoff could escalate further, one of the volunteer stormtroopers interrupted.  “Look sir; coming out of the woods!”

Looking into the direction of the shield generator’s secret entrance, the sergeant and his captain watched an AT-ST break through the dense undergrowth into the clearing.

“Excellent. That walker may prove useful during the surrender negotiations,” said Hikara as he turned back to JC 225.  “Now stand BACK!”  The captain pressed the blaster’s barrel into the sergeant’s visor until he stepped back off of the wire.  Keeping the sergeant covered, he used his free hand to pick up the communicator.       

Sergeant JC 225 prepared to end the argument forcefully when the woods around the bunker seemed to come alive with Rebels and Ewoks.  Several Rebels fell in behind the AT-ST as the walker leveled its blasters on its former masters.   Surrounding the now depleted force of only about three hundred stormtroopers, the Rebels and their allies were in position to completely annihilate the Imperials. 

“Hold your fire,” shouted Captain Hikara to both his men and the Rebels.  Holding his hands over his head, though he still clutched his blaster, Hikara took a step toward the Rebels nearest him.  “Hold your fire; I want to negotiate!” 

A Rebel squad leader directly across from Hikara, keeping his assault blaster leveled on the Imperials, tilted his head and said something into his collar mounted comm-link.  “Order your men to drop their weapons,” shouted another Rebel as he pointed to the ground with his off hand.

“Do as he says!  Lay down your weapons and drop to your knees,” ordered Hikara.

In his peripheral vision, Hikara could see two volunteer stormtroopers comply with his order.  However, he could also see a clone sniper continue to point his weapon at the massing Rebels while looking behind the captain.  Turning around, Hikara saw several other snipers and clone scouts nervously looking back and forth from the enemy to the sergeant standing behind him. 

Lowering his hands, Hikara walked toward the sniper.  Sergeant JC 225 stood before him, defiantly holding his sniper rifle across his chest.  Moving within arms reach of the other man, the captain squared off with the sergeant.  “I’m not going to repeat myself to you again, sergeant,” hissed Hikara.  “Lay down your weapon and get on your knees; and tell your men to do the same.”

“I can’t do that, sir.  The Emperor is dead.  I now have a loyalty you wouldn’t understand.  If this is to be my end, then I prefer to die with honor; here and now.”

“And that is something I can’t allow.”  As the last word passed the captain’s lips JC 225 saw the muzzle of Hikara’s blaster point directly into his visor, followed by the red glow of a blaster bolt. 

Opening his eyes, the sergeant found himself laying on his side in the dark.  Attempting to reach up to his right temple and feel the scar that ran partially into his hairline, he found himself unable to move his arms.  Oh yeah; now I remember.

Sniffing the cold air in the stasis cell, JC 225 noticed a faint vapor in the air.  Judging from the lack of odor he decided that he wasn’t to blame, though he would be if he had to wait for much longer.  The more deeply he breathed, the wider awake he became.  Must be some kind of counter to that sleeping agent they pumped in here earlier.

His shoulder ached after lying on it for who knows how many hours, so he tried to roll over.  This proved difficult, however, due to the forearm braces that held his hands clasped around his elbows.  Worse, the cuffs were too tight and had cut off circulation.  He couldn’t even feel his forearms, let alone move them.  Wriggling onto his back, the sergeant looked down his body to the front of the compartment.  A dim stream of blue light cut into the darkness through a small inspection window.  Swinging his head and legs to the left for momentum, he rolled onto his fresh side.  That’s better. 

Lying still in the darkness he could hear other prisoners bumping the stainless plasteel walls of their cells as they woke up and tried to stretch out.  Some of his brothers began to communicate with each other by tapping on the side of their compartment with their feet.  JC 225 considered joining the conversation for a moment, but decided against it. 

They all know what to do the sergeant thought as his compartment began to shake slightly.  They may kill us all, but it’ll be a good death.  Even though we never got the chance to live like Mandalorians, at least we can die a warrior’s death.  The tapping stopped for a moment, and then came alive again with questions of what was happening.  Edging himself a little closer to the wall in front of him, the sergeant tapped out a message.  “Prepare yourselves; we’re landing.”


As Rann set an explosive charge on one of the guard station’s doors, he suddenly heard the loud report of starship engines coming from the other side of the building.  Quickly finishing his work, he then ran onto the main path leading up toward the command facility.  Initially unable to see anything, his jaw dropped when he saw the hulking slave ship slowly drop through the light overcast.  As he watched the massive ship maneuver toward the landing pad, its dark shadow passed over him.  Turning around, a nearly deafening roar sounded from overhead.  Falling to the ground, hands tightly covering his ears, Rann looked up at a second stasis ship as it flew over the camp.  Passing directly over him, Rann could see the vessel’s huge four toed landing struts twisting down into docking configuration.

When the enormous craft finally passed, Rann got back to his feet and watched the dark gray monster descended on the landing pad.  Turning toward the last guard barracks on his list, he shook his head and wondered what Mandalore could possibly have in mind. 


Wow; that maniac cut it close thought captain Basell as he watched through a holographic display as one of his ship’s rear landing struts touched down dangerously close to the security wall’s main gate.  “Thank you, control,” he said a moment later into his com unit with a noticeably cynical tone. “We are on the deck and are preparing to offload our passengers.” 

“Roger that, Two One Six,” crackled a response over the intercom.  “Once again, you are ordered to ONLY wake up the high security risk prisoners.  You should then combine your security forces and escort those prisoners to the main gate, where our people will take control.  With the high risk prisoners out of the way, the rest can be offloaded quickly and you can get your ships out of here.”

“Once again control, I understand; Two One Six OUT!”  Basell angrily killed the communications link.  This is the weirdest thing I’ve been asked to do yet!  First they tell me they’re changing the plan and want to land all three of these monsters at the same time, then as I’m about to touch down they decide to let me in on the fact that there is a possible threat of an Imperial attack on the camp!  I'll bet NONE of this is procedural.  General Travid is going to get a report from me about this.  As one of the helmsmen wiped the sweat from his brow after the close landing, Basell checked the other landing holo cams to make sure the primary loading ramp was clear to lower. 

“All systems on standby sir,” reported the chief engineer. 

“Thank you, lieutenant; keep the engines hot and ready to go,” said Basell with a hint of agitation.  His own days as the chief engineer of a Rebel frigate patrolling the Outer Rim taught him to save fuel and energy whenever possible.  That was well before the battle of Endor, though.  Since the Emperor got what was coming to him the New Republic’s resources had grown immeasurably.  Nevertheless, the young captain tried to implement all the lessons he had learned into his first command, and keeping the massive thrusters on these beasts hot was yet another thing he wasn't liking about this delivery. 

I’m going to give that landing control operator a talking to if I get the chance.  Stepping into the forward observation section of the bridge, Captain Basell glance out one of the portside transparisteel view screens at Two One Five which had landed earlier.    He then turned to his right and watched the third stasis ship in his command approach the landing pad.  Motioning to his communications officer, the ensign knew from experience to route radio traffic from the other ships through the bridge intercom. 

“Control, this is Two One Seven, we have the designated landing site in view and are making our approach.  You sure we’re going to fit?”


“Trust me, Two One Seven,” said Mandalore as he ran final calculations from the cockpit of Slave I.  Slicing into the feed of holo viewers mounted on the landing pad’s security wall, he could guide the incoming starships into position.  He pressed the transmit button again.  “It will all be over soon.  Adjust course three degrees north.”

While he watched the last transport moving into position, he pushed the accelerator controls forward and streaked toward the landing pad.         

So it begins...

"You set a code to live by.  I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted...I won't be laid a hand on.  I don't do these things to other men, and I require the same from them."

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

how very interesting.i suppose the empire would have clone regiemts though its never been mentioned.the mandalorians as i understand them are mercinaries with no ideology so id imagine them just going to mandalore.

SF is what life is all about.

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

They do have an ideology...although it's a little disputed as to exactly what it is.  Karren Travis is giving her angle on the Mando way of life with her books: I agree with her in a lot of ways *and in some ways, we both came to the same conclusions as to the Mando influence on the clones, I just took it to a more extreme and deliberate level.*

Thanks for the comment though, hope you like what I've got.  I haz a plan for where they go and what happens...in fact I have a very vague storyline that goes years from that point...only trouble is I only have one more chapter completed.  I guess I'll have to get back to work on this thing   tongue

Will try to convert the last chapter and get it posted before too long


"You set a code to live by.  I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted...I won't be laid a hand on.  I don't do these things to other men, and I require the same from them."

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

You gotta post more often, Ralin. I had forgotten who was who tongue

BFFC Moderator
It was like thousands of voices cried out for a sequel and were suddenly silenced...

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)


I would, but it takes time to fill in all the italics codes, and time isn't something I've had a lot of lately  sad

That, and I havn't worked on this thing for like 2 years... I'm just posting the material that I wrote with slight updates that I make when rereading before putting it up here.  I REALLY need to start adding material to the story again....

"You set a code to live by.  I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted...I won't be laid a hand on.  I don't do these things to other men, and I require the same from them."

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

you will let fett win wont you? ill feel so depressed if those republicans win again.

SF is what life is all about.

41 (edited by Ralin Drakus Friday, November 28, 2008 10:20 am)

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

Wow, that's a coincidence.  I was just thinking about reviving this thread with an update, and your question ties into what I plan on posting.

I'm not really sure who you're talking about when you say 'Republicans,' did you mean the Rebels?  But anyway, I don't want to spoil the story for you by just telling you what will happen, so I'll make a serious effort to get the next couple of chapters up tonight after work *I need to leave like.....now  sad *  since somebody is actively interested in what happens *sorry, I thought this was pretty dead and didn't make time to add the next couple chapters*

However, I will give the update I was thinking of adding.  For my creative writing class, I have an assignment to write a short story that my class will critique on Wednesday.  I've chosen to write the intro to what would be like novel Three in the series of Four I have in mind for this plot.  It WILL contain a LOT of spoilers for this story, so Don't read it if You're REALLY into this one and don't want to know what's coming *though as you've seen, I'm REALLY slow adding to this story, so you might have to wait a LONG time in between posts... so I guess I'd encourage ppl to read what I'm working on in the class assignment if you like this FanFic and are tired of waiting for my terribly slow posts *again, sorry bout that** 

I'll try to have it up right after we have do the class discussion on it.  Thanks for the interest Stone Mando; I hope you like the next chapters  smile

"You set a code to live by.  I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted...I won't be laid a hand on.  I don't do these things to other men, and I require the same from them."

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

Wow, just got around to reading these, Ralin, and their really good. Some of how Boba immediately was willing to help is odd, but its still REALLY interesting. Can't wait for more.

[url=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yff3jH8NECs]"Touch my Awesome Button."[/url]
--Captain Dynamic--

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

ill look foreward to the next part.

SF is what life is all about.

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

Oh damn, sorry vode.  I'd promised to add more to this a long time ago....

Honestly, I've given up on this one.  There are a couple more chapters that I'd already written that I'll put up here next chance I get *my lack of presence here is rooted in some serious internet issues at home that have been eating at me for some time now - that's why I havn't been participating in any of the RP's - combined with some other issues,* but I'm no longer planning on adding anything new. 

Originally, this was my idea for a truely possible hidden backstory for Boba, the clones, and the future of the Mando'ade.  But as I've learned more about the existing EU on the subject, I've come to the conclusion that none of this is even remotely possible.  Still an interesting idea for an alternate history, and one that I might revisit in the future, but I've been working primarily on actionable bacstories for my own character *who does need a new backstory since this one won't work anymore* and backstories on notable figures in his family line.

I've worked on or at least begun several shortstories and pieces of FanFictions for both my character and members of his family/Clan for school projects, and I'll post them eventually *working on one right at this very moment for a Mythology project in fact*.  I'm going to focus on expanding on those at this time rather then this, but thanks again for the interest.  And again, I will try to get those last couple of chapters posted for this before letting it go completely.

Sorry for the long wait on this,


"You set a code to live by.  I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted...I won't be laid a hand on.  I don't do these things to other men, and I require the same from them."

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

Wow, its just.....wow....  I like the title to, sound like something that George Lucas thought up!


Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

Thanks Karson  smile

Just for kicks sometimes I'll upload the rest of what I wrote, but as stated in my last post, I'm afraid I've given up the ghost on this one.  I still like to think it's an interesting alternate history, but that's about it. 

If I ever got a chance to work on it, I hope you'll all enjoy the new work I'm sorting out.  My 'Mandalorian Saga' series has, I hope, a lot more potential, since nobody is really working on the Old Republic era Mandos yet.  I'm using my Counter Culture ideas as the basis of the characters and conflict in the stories, and I've already posted the conclusion of one of the 'Sagas', my STAR WARS: The Mandalorian Saga III story.  I wrote that as a stand alone short story for my Creative Writing class last semester, but I plan to use it as the last chapter of book 2 of my planned series.  I'm going to start working out the hard plot line over this weekend hopefully   big_smile

"You set a code to live by.  I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted...I won't be laid a hand on.  I don't do these things to other men, and I require the same from them."

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

Do it soon

48 (edited by Ralin Drakus Sunday, August 1, 2010 1:29 pm)

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

wow, you guys are still checking up on this dinosaur?  I'm flattered

On top of my lazyness and constanly being busy, I've got a new issue that's going to make it hard for me to update this thing ever again.  I moved a few months ago, and my parents have the old computer that I originally wrote this on.  I actually want that PC so that I don't have to use my brother's for my writing needs, but it's probably gonna be a while before I can get it.

And in all honesty, I'm not sure I have anything else finished..  I know there was more material, and tons more planned plotline, but I can't say for sure after all this time if it was finished or not.  Only one or two more finished chapters at the most.  When I get the computer to my new place I'll check it out for you guys.

"You set a code to live by.  I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted...I won't be laid a hand on.  I don't do these things to other men, and I require the same from them."

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

They are some long posts

Re: Return of the Mandalorians(FanFic)

Never was able to recover those last couple of chapters that I was planning to post...

Working two jobs and two kids, but I just copied over everything posted here so I can clean out that coding crap and maybe someday start adding material again.  No promises, but I'd love to work on this beast again so we'll see what happens

"You set a code to live by.  I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted...I won't be laid a hand on.  I don't do these things to other men, and I require the same from them."