[FIC] Honour bound

Darth Randus · January 15, 2007

This has got to be the best fic i have read so far. I have not found any spelling/grammar errors except for the one, and i cant wait for the next chapter!

HappyMojo · May 29, 2007

It's been a very long time since I've updated this story and still, I haven't really updated the story this time. I've added and changed a few things here and there. But for those who a new to the story, enjoy.

----- Updated 29th of May -----

Even if you are armed with a Mandalorian blaster, the burning sand of Tatooine holds more dangers then the Sandpeople and Wraids roaming the desert. I sensed something in the desert, but it could not be heard or seen because it was hidden beneath my dusty footsteps.

I felt a change in the air, and I was not sure that it was for the better. Something was calling an unknown power to Tatooine, and I didn’t know why I could sense it.

I’ve always been alert – a lesson I quickly learned on Tatooine. If you’re not alert, you will wake up and find yourself stripped from your valuables, with only a vague memory of a twi’lek dancing girl, filling you up with juma. Luckily I’m hard to kill.

My senses had led me to Anchorage. It felt like I was almost driven here by an unknown force; a sensation that I hadn’t felt before. The speeder that I “borrowed” was abandoned outside Mos Eisley Spaceport. It all felt too easy. I should have known better, but I couldn’t help it. I had to go to Anchorage.

The trip to Anchorage was without confrontation. No honour was to be gain from the travel. And no honour was to be found when I reached my goal. Only the Anchorage guard manager needed some intimidation, before he let me in without the bribe of twenty credits. Still, there was nothing to restore my lost pride and honour from the war.

The fall of Exar Kun led to a flood of cowardice among the Non-Mandalorian, and some Mandalorians were affected by this weakness as well. I was one of those weak fools who fled from Malachor V. I lost my courage at the most crucial time. I was without honour.

From that moment I travelled the universe in hope that I would somehow restore my honour. For years I’d travelled backwater planets in the outer rims looking for a great war. But only the rivalry between gangsters and politicians could be found. I was reduced to a thug and my two years on Tatooine had felt like decades.

Within the city wall, I instinctively knew where I was heading. The bar I entered could easily be called the worst slime pit in the galaxy. Even the bars in Nal Hutta couldn’t keep up with this one.

Due to the clientele, the bar had Gamorrean dancing girls; an amusing sight to be honest, but not something that I wish to experience twice in my lifetime.

I enjoyed myself over a game of Pazaak and a dirty mug of juma. But the presence I had felt intensified. Something was near. Something was coming. I could feel it stronger then I had felt before. My senses sharpened, my wits got keen. I rose from the Pazaak table; ignoring the credits and the protests from Gamorrean in front of me. I headed for the front door and stepped into dark streets outside the bar.

Night time had come early and was sometimes harder to predict because of the two suns on Tatooine. And sometimes the nights became extremely cold.

I quickly sensed that I was being watched and I firmly gripped my blaster, turning off the safety switch. I stood in the doorway, scouring the darkness and every shadow. There was nothing.

Suddenly a black silhouette of a man stepped out of a nearby shadow. I cursed myself for not seeing it. “What do you want?” I asked harshly.

There was no reply. Only silence. I repeated my question but still no answer. It was unnerving. The silence had a feeling of a powerful presence which still chills my bones to this day. And my honour became broken once more for the cowardice I felt.

I couldn’t even raise my weapon and when flash of red light ignited into a blade, I dropped my blaster.

“You are broken, Mandalorian” A deep rusty voice said, but no sound could be heard. It was like the unheard sound came from within me and yet travelled to my consciousness.

The unheard voice frightened me even further, since I couldn’t reply, yet I was fully aware that the message came from the figure before me.

“You are fallen, Mandalorian” the voice slowly continued with a flicker of anger to be noticed in the word “fallen”. It was as if the crimson blade became brighter by the anger fuelled tremor that could be heard in the voice.

I was mortified by the word fallen. And that the hateful figure before me, knew of my failings as a warrior. I had turned from war after the final battle of Malachor. I was no longer a warrior in the eyes of Mandalorians or myself. But I had kept it a secret for all these years.

The voice said the words as they went through my head. “You are weak, Mandalorian”.

The words made me fall to my knees, into the dust and dirt where I belonged. Where I should have died! But the figure wouldn’t let me of that easy. An unseen hand lifted me of the ground and held me in the air. I frantically gasped for air, but it was useless.

“Your life is mine, Mandalorian!” The figure hissed with its true voice. The grip tightened but quickly let me go before I lost consciousness. Again my face was in the dust. My body was limp and my mind was broken. The figure could read the burning flicker of hate, anger and pain, from the glistening in my eyes, and the emptiness in my heart.

“Good, are you ready to serve your master?” The figure said musing with a cruel and monotone voice. Already I loathed the figure. I hated the figure. And the hate made me rise to my feet. I stared into the empty silhouette of the figure, and my spiteful reply was filled with anger and malice as I answered “Yes”.

At the time I didn’t even understand the meaning of the question. Still, I replied as if I was in no doubt. Clearly, something was behind my consciousness; a strength or a power speaking it’s own will – yet, it was still a part of me.

The figure raised its lightsaber, and a male face appeared in the crimson light. I hadn’t seen him before, but I felt that this person had influenced my life in the past. I figured that the man was a Sith; spawned from the Mandalorian Wars, but I had no idea of who the man was.

“Do you know why I’m here?” the man asked – no longer calling me ‘Mandalorian’. I also noted a change in his voice, as it lacked the cruel malignancy I heard before he became my master.

“No, but I have felt your coming.” I replied with subsiding anger.

“Do you know what this means?” The man asked while he made a gesture with his lightsaber.

“Yes, it marks you as a Sith” I replied.

“You are wrong my apprentice. The lightsaber means nothing. It states nothing. Only fools define alliances by the colour of a weapon. For this is nothing more then a weapon. A crude device constructed for many purposes.” The man said.

“Does this mean that you are a Jedi then?” I conjectured, not noticing why he called me his apprentice.

“No! These are only titles. Nothing more; and these titles do not define who you are, or who you are going to become! Many fools, who hear my name, have the audacity to define and categorize me into such groups, and history marks my name as one of the Sith Lords. But that is only a title. And the titles neither define me nor show my intentions!”

I wisely remained silent, not daring other conjectures, as I felt his anger like blows of an unknown force. My silence seemed to please him as his frown settled into a placid expression and continued.

“You were a fallen Mandalorian like I was a fallen Jedi. But fallen, is what one can be called, when one divert from a given path. And when I walked my own path, I deemed the title of a fallen. Little did they know that they would become ‘the fallen’.

I wield the force to its full extend. I do not limit myself into categories and titles. This gives me power and knowledge of the force unheard of! And this is why I sought out you. ”

I remained silent since I sensed that he wished to continue.

The man paused, observing me for a few seconds and then continued.

“Despite my immense knowledge of the force, the Mandalorian wars had unforeseen effects. And these effects have halted my initial quest, of which I will not speak of now. You may wonder why I have chosen you, and why you have felt my coming. But the answer to that question is difficult, and before you can possibly understand the answer, you must know the very basics of the force.

The force is the border between oblivion and everything. It defines our reality and binds our life together with more then what we see as crude matter. It is this connection that allows force-wielders to manipulate the world around us.

Those who wield the force are able to grasp the path of either oblivion or everything. In other words, we can reach out with our feelings, and we can use our power to either create or to destroy. We can read the currents of the force, and tell of times to come. But sometimes, like in the destruction of a world like Malachor, the currents will become so violent that it bends the force with echoes. The force will seek new roots, creating random bonds from involved wielders. But I don’t know how many of these bonds have been spawned. But I do know that I have been linked to you, like you have been linked to me. You could feel my presence and I could feel your location from across the universe.”

I remained silent, trying to understand the large amount of information my master had presented me. But I would be a fool if I claimed that I understood any of it.

My master observed me, apparently pleased by my puzzlement, but he didn’t elaborate further. The only thing I did understand was that Malachor had been the catalyst to the change I felt in my body and in my perceptions. And only two questions had emerged in my mind. Who was this man and had he fought in the battle at Malachor?

I didn’t have to time to ask the questions before he answered them. “Yes, I was at Malachor ten years ago, and my name is Revan, former Dark Lord of the Sith, and from now on, you will call me master, for you are now my apprentice”.

When my master spoke his name, a chill ran through my entire body. I started mumbling gibberish not knowing what to say or do. Most of my actions so far hadn’t been rational, but it’s hard to explain the patterns of my choices.

I guess it was my newfound senses, and a quest for power or a tiny flicker of hope to regain my honour that induced my irrational actions. But by hearing the name ‘Revan’ I started questioning my odd desires.

Why did I want to follow a man that I despised? - A man who had led to my own failings. I knew that he was not to be trusted. But I could feel the power and greatness in his wake. I could feel the current flowing towards him, fuelling his power – but it also fuelled me. I felt that we shared the same roots in the force, and that I was drinking from the same source. I was growing, but I had much to learn. I could feel the force, but I did not know how to channel it. I wanted to blossom in the force; to become whole again. My mind and honour was shattered, but with the force I could heal and redeem myself. I wanted power; and therefore I followed the man I truly despised and feared.

Revan looked upon me with an amusing expression that seamed to mock me. His smile turned into a small grin before he spoke. “Your feelings towards me are clear. You despise me. But why?”

I looked upon him with fearful eyes and said with a low voice. “You have turned on all your allies; you betray, and hold no loyalty and honour”.

Revan’s amusing grin disappeared as his brows sank into a grim expression. His jaw clenched and my stomach turned in fear of the man. The darkness around him seamed to deepen while he became a sharp contrast to the blurred world around him. His eyes flared in anger as he hissed through clenched teeth.

“I am the betrayer?”

“You would be wise; to keep your filthy mouth shut in matters you cannot possibly understand.

I was never the betrayer.

It was a role given to me by the Jedi and the republic.

I became the saviour of billions in the Mandalorian war when the Jedi failed to intervene. They did nothing. And when they finally did go to war it was against me!

The mantle of Dark Lord was given to me by the Jedi, when they attacked me! I was not the betrayer. But I was a fool.

Malak, my former apprentice, was the one who launched an attack on the republic. This was done without my knowledge; and for the republic, it seamed that I was the aggressor.

Malak had been clever. He had started an industry of turning Jedi to the dark side. Soon, I found myself in a war on two fronts. I had foreseen none of them.

I defended myself against the republic and the Jedi, and then Malak’s trap was sprung. He turned his fleet on my ship, and if it had not been for the Jedi. I would have died.

They saved me, but for a price.

They stripped me of my consciousness and power; creating a new me. But I could not be hidden for long.

After defeating Malak at a space station called ‘the Star Forge’ I found the true me, hidden behind a consciousness created by the Jedi. My anger with the Jedi and Malak’s was the reason why I once more grabbed the title of Dark Lord.

I also did it to expose the new enemy created in the currents of Malak’s vivid actions. But the enemy was wise. They remain hidden even now. And they have been striking the Jedi from the unknown for years now.

I abandoned my title of Dark Lord, and my actions destroyed the Sith as I expected. Korriban is now a wasteland because the Sith turned on themselves. But still, the unknown enemy remained hidden much to my surprise. I expected them to grab the mantle of Dark Lord, but they never did.

In my travels I started feeling a deep current within the force, as something terrible will happen. I saw a dead world. I saw the downfall of the Jedi. But my dreams offered no clues on what that will cause this destruction. All I see is the fall of the Jedi.

Therefore I travelled and hid myself. I tried to find the peace to observe this threat. But instead I found you.”

KotO[REvan] · August 26, 2007

Editorials... bah

This thread deserves some more reputation, this is seriously an awesome story.

Keep it up Mojo!

HappyMojo · December 6, 2007

Hello again... it's that time of a year... for another update that is.

The story itself hasn't really continued, but I have corrected a lot of world details that was wrong according to Wookieepedia.

Also, I've added a lot of detail about the past of the storyteller, and of why he fled Malachor.

I have also corrected a bit of dialogue... still, I'm very tired atm, so bear with me if you find any grammar, spelling or coherence errors... I'll fix them, when I read the whole lot with fresh eyes.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: Honour Bound :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Chapter one - Newfound Power

Even if you are armed with a Mandalorian blaster, the burning sand of Tatooine holds more dangers then the Sandpeople and Wraids roaming the desert. I sensed something in the desert, but it could not be heard or seen because it was hidden beneath my dusty footsteps. At least this was what I believed at that time.

As the weeks went by I began feeling a change in the air, and I was not sure that it was for the better. I felt a calling, like something was calling an unknown power to Tatooine, and I didn’t know why I could sense it, or even comprehend it.

Perhaps it was because of my constant alertness. I’ve always been alert – It’s a lesson quickly learned on Tatooine. Otherwise you’ll might wake up and find yourself stripped from your valuables, with only a vague memory of a twi’lek dancing girl, filling you up with juma. Luckily I’m hard to kill.

After spending two years working as a grunt in Mos Eisley Spaceport, my past seemed to creep up on me, since some odd travellers began asking for my original name that I hadn’t used since I arrived on Tatooine.

At first I thought the travellers were Mandalorians, but it quickly became apparent that wasn’t the case. First of all they didn’t dress like Mandalorians, nor did their language have the special Mandalorian dialect I’d so often had longed for. No, their interest in me lay elsewhere, which wasn’t to my likings, and I didn’t feel like hanging around Mos Eisley to find out.

Also, the sensation I had felt, pulled me away from these strangers. So I decided that I’ve would trust this sensation, or gut feeling. It led me to Anchorage, and it felt like I was almost driven here by an unknown force; a more intense sensation that I hadn’t felt before. The speeder that I “borrowed” was abandoned outside Mos Eisley Spaceport. It all felt too easy. I should have known better, but I couldn’t help it. Somehow I knew I had to go to Anchorage.

The trip to Anchorage was without confrontation. Much to my regret, not even the common Sand People were in sight. No honour was to be gain from the travel. And no honour was to be found when I reached my goal. For years I have longed for battle which was common for my people.

I arrived at Anchorage late in the afternoon. The guard manager at the gates needed some intimidation before he let me in without the bribe of twenty credits. Still, there was nothing to restore my lost pride and honour from the war.

It was true; I had lost my pride and honour during the destruction of Malachor V. The skies where filled with fire from burning spaceships, and we were forced back towards Malachor. We were losing our most glorious battle, yet we thought that we were leading them into a trap. Little did we know that it was us who were trapped. Revan, the leader of the opposing forces had in secret constructed a weapon far more deadly then we have dared to imagine, by the help of an ingenious Zabrak named Bao-Dur.

The “Mass Shadow Generator” created a vortex that engulfed most of our fleet, crashing them into the crust of the planet. It was not just the surface that was destroyed. The planet itself was ripped to its core-

The death of the planet led to a flood of cowardice. Most Non-Mandalorian fell to this weakness, and a few Mandalorians were affected by this weakness as well. I was one of those weak fools who fled Malachor V. I blame myself for losing my courage at the most crucial time. I became a man without honour. I could no longer call myself a true Mandalorian.

From that moment I travelled the universe in hope that I would somehow restore my honour. For years I’d travelled backwater planets in the outer rims looking for a great war. But only the rivalry between gangsters and politicians could be found. I was reduced to a thug, and my two years on Tatooine had felt like decades. As I passed the guard manager at the city gates, he saw only a glimpse of the malevolence I felt in my soul.

Within the city wall, I instinctively knew where I was heading. The sensation I had felt only as a whisper before, was now a current flowing through my body.

The bar I entered could easily be called the worst slime pit in the galaxy. Even the bars in Nal Hutta couldn’t keep up with this one.

Due to the clientele, the bar had Gamorrean dancing girls; an amusing sight to be honest, but not something that I wish to experience twice in my lifetime.

I enjoyed myself over a game of Pazaak and a dirty mug of juma. But the presence I had felt intensified. Something was near. I found it hard to concentrate on my game. Something was coming. I could feel it stronger then I had felt before. Something was here.

My senses sharpened, my wits got keen. I rose from the Pazaak table; ignoring the credits and the protests from Gamorrean in front of me. Hastily I grabbed my blaster, headed for the front door and stepped into dark streets outside the bar.

Night time had come early and was sometimes harder to predict because of the two suns on Tatooine. And sometimes the nights became extremely cold. This was one of those nights.

As I stood in the doorway, trying to control my icy breath, I quickly sensed that I was being watched. I gripped my blaster firmly, ignoring the shivering in my freezing body, and turned off the safety switch. I stood in the doorway, scouring the darkness and every shadow. There was nothing.

Just as I lowered my blaster, a black silhouette of a man stepped out of a nearby shadow. I cursed myself for not seeing it. “What do you want?” I asked harshly, raising my blaster.

There was no reply. Only silence. I repeated my question but still no answer. It was unnerving. The silence had a feeling of a powerful presence which still chills my bones to this day. And my honour became broken once more for the cowardice I felt. It was the same feeling I had felt at Malachor, like my soul crumbled like the death of the planet.

I couldn’t even raise my weapon and when flash of red light ignited into a blade, I dropped it.

“You are broken, Mandalorian” A deep rusty voice said, but no sound could be heard. It was like the unheard sound came from within me and yet travelled to my consciousness.

The unheard voice frightened me even further, since I couldn’t reply, yet I was fully aware that the message came from the figure before me.

“You are fallen, Mandalorian” the voice slowly continued with a flicker of anger to be noticed in the word “fallen”. It was as if the crimson blade became brighter by the anger fuelled tremor that could be heard in the voice.

I was mortified by the word fallen as it reminded me of my continuous failures, and that the hateful figure before me, knew of my failings as a warrior. I had turned from war after the final battle of Malachor. I was no longer a warrior in the eyes of Mandalorians or myself. But I had kept it a secret for all these years. How did he know?

The voice said the words as they went through my head. “You are weak, Mandalorian”.

The words made me fall to my knees, into the dust and dirt where I belonged. “Why couldn’t my ship have been caught in the deadly vortex at Malachor? Why couldn’t I have died with honour. “ I whispered to myself. But the figure before me wouldn’t let my weakness and despair be my focus An unseen hand lifted me of the ground and held me in the air. I frantically gasped for air, but it was useless.

“Your life is mine, Mandalorian!” The figure hissed with its true voice. The grip tightened but quickly let me go before I lost consciousness. Again my face was in the dust. My body was limp and my mind was broken. The figure could read the burning flicker of hate, anger and pain, from the glistening in my eyes, and the emptiness in my heart.

“Good, can you feel the burning power of your anger?“ The figure said musing with a cruel and monotone voice. Already I loathed the figure. I hated the figure. And the hate made me rise to my feet. I stared into the empty silhouette of the figure, and my spiteful reply was filled with fury and malice as I answered “Yes”.

At the time I didn’t even understand the full meaning of the question. Still, I replied as if I was in no doubt. Clearly, something was behind my consciousness; a strength or a power speaking its own will – yet, it was still a part of me.

The figure raised its lightsaber, and a male face appeared in the crimson light. I hadn’t seen him before, but I felt that this person had influenced my life in the past. I figured that the man was a Sith; spawned from the Mandalorian Wars, but I had no idea of who the man was.

“Do you know why I’m here?” the man asked – no longer calling me ‘Mandalorian’. I also noted a change in his voice, as it lacked the cruel malignancy I heard before he became my master.

“No, but I have felt your coming.” I replied with subsiding resentment.

“Do you know what this means?” The man asked while making a gesture with his lightsaber.

“Yes, it marks you as a Sith” I replied as I noted the red colour.

“You are wrong my apprentice. The lightsaber means nothing. It states nothing. Only fools define alliances by the colour of a weapon. For this is nothing more then a weapon. A crude device constructed for many purposes.” The man said.

“Does this mean that you are a Jedi then?” I conjectured, not noticing why he called me his apprentice.

“No! These are only titles. Nothing more; and these titles do not define who we are, or who we are going to become! Many fools, who hear my name, have the audacity to define and categorize me into such groups, and history marks my name as one of the Sith Lords. But that is only a title. And the titles neither define me nor show my intentions!”