The other bookend to “You Lost Our Ship?!”
“Nine thousand ninety-eight…nine thousand ninety-nine… ninety-one hundred!” Kellaro exclaimed, slapping the credits into the Sullustan mechanic’s hands.
The wait was agonizing as the alien counted the money and then took one last look at the Dynamic-class Freighter Kellaro was trading in. Kellaro started bouncing impatiently on his heels, but finally, finally, the alien passed him the deed to his family’s old Mantis spaceship.
“Take a look at that, Brant!” he said a few minutes later, as they walked into the hangar and turned on the lights. The lamps took a few minutes to warm up, going from a dim orange to a brighter and brighter yellow. The effect it had on the ship was something like a smoky dawn, the empty cockpit casting a forlorn expression of long-suffering through the gloom, at least until the Mandalorian sigils for Clans Lok and Lok’kar as well as a series of handprints were illuminated across the ship’s bow, transforming the ship’s frown into a rictus grin.
Kellaro glanced over at Brant to see if he was as excited as Kellaro was, but Brant’s expression was almost as pained as the ship’s. He broke from Kellaro, crossing over to it and brushing his hand against the underside of the nose, around the housing for one of the ion cannons. His hand came to rest over one of the handprints in their row under the cockpit: a small one, no larger than a child’s. It was his own, made more than a decade ago.
Continue reading ““…But I Got It Back!””
The base was oddly silent, despite the space battle taking place only a few kilometers overhead. The soft clinks of Kellaro’s armor filled the air instead, and Kellaro winced each time he took a step. He wasn’t making that much noise, but it felt like it, and he kept expecting to meet guards around every corner.
Eventually his expectations were fulfilled, as he came around another bend and met a flurry of blasterfire. He dodged back around, now wincing in pain instead of the anticipation of it. His assailants did not pursue, and Kellaro took the moment to flip open his wrist bracer and start a quick scan.
Three droids, two small turrets. That would explain the lack of pursuit. They had to be guarding something, and Kellaro bet his best blaster pistol that that something was his goal.
Kellaro flicked open his comms unit. “Hey, Imadulc, could you send in a strike to the base?”
“Kzzzzsghksssgzzzzsh.” Kellaro couldn’t clearly hear her voice over all the static, but it sounded irate. And then…
Continue reading “Ground Pounding”
It had been the first real reprieve he’d had since the droid crisis began. Brant returned to his Dromund Kaas apartment late in the evening, still limping slightly on one leg. The medics told him to take it easy, but Brant paced the full length of the apartment anyway, the stabbing pain reminding him of how far he’d come — and how far yet he still had to go.
Continue reading “Sun Eater”
This is an updated version of “Tale Out of Time“, to bring it into Imperial Equinox canon.
“Mother! Mother! Look who it is! It’s Dad!”
“Oh, Kellaro. Not again…”
“I mean it this time! I really saw him! He was on the holo!”
The young teenager excitedly shoved the holocom into her hands, his fingers still pressing buttons as he passed the disc to her. It was an Eternal Empire broadcast; the Zakuul Knights were hunting for the pictured man, nicknamed the Assassin: a bounty hunter wanted for aiding the Alliance with hit-and-run tactics along the Outer Rim.
Continue reading “Tale Out of Time (I.E. Version)”
Kellaro was floored, almost literally, as he opened the bill. He started gesticulatingat it wordlessly, as the Sullustan mechanic pulled off his oily gloves and then just looked at him with a raised brow.
“I can’t afford this,” Kellaro finally stuttered out.
“It’s an old and rare ship,” the mechanic answered. “You think those parts come cheap?”
“Well no, but…” Continue reading ““You Lost Our Ship?!””
Name: Kellaro Lok’kar
Continue reading “Kellaro Lok’kar”
Weight: 170 lb.
Physical Features: Brown-skinned, black-haired, dark blue eyes.
Personality Traits: Cheerful and friendly, though keeps his true feelings close to his chest. Stubborn and a tad reckless.
Place of Birth: aboard his father’s Mantis ship
Residence: aboard his Mantis ship
“What does that button do?”
“That’s the throttle.”
“And that one?”
“The landing gear.”
“And THAT one?”
The old Mandalorian sighed and rolled his eyes. “That’s the ejector switch, for the seat you’re sitting in right now.”
The little boy’s blue eyes went wide. “Whoa…”
Continue reading “The Dream”
This one takes a darker turn after the events in “The Mettle of a Mandalorian”. It might be a tough read, but it seemed important to me, both to show the developing bond between these two, as well as the nature of trauma. It carries references to “The Crucible of Korriban” and “The Mirages of Tatooine”.Author’s Note
Kellaro’s face was gray, but his leg was grayer. Brant banged into his ward in the infirmary, expecting mayhem or murder after his brother’s frightened holocall in the middle of the night, but it was just Kellaro lying there, propped up in his pillows, and rubbing, rubbing, rubbing at his leg like it was one of the djinn lanterns from the stories.
Brant groaned, rubbed his eyes as he relaxed back against the door. “Whatever’s going on, it’s way too early for this,” he muttered. He squinted at Kellaro between his fingers. “So what’s the matter, exactly? Bad dream? Too much spice?”
“My leg,” said Kellaro tensely. Continue reading “Last Night”
Some of this echoes “Battle Over Odessen” for how Keel’ath handles the news his sons have gone MIA. It takes place sometime after “The Middleman”, but Vette is chilly towards Brant once again, due to a fight that took place offscreen that I have yet to write.
I made the decision to use the crew’s last names here, a difficult choice in any kind of fiction where both names are given. Kellaro is the one exception because he doesn’t have a last name, as Mako doesn’t have one, and Keel’ath left his behind long before the twins were born.Author’s Note
“Wait, where’s Kellaro?”
Jorgan just eyed Brant and said nothing as he carried Dorne past, one arm of hers slung around his broad Cathar shoulders. Brant stood by — was forced to, as M1-4X rumbled past, also carrying a trooper in its arms. Once the droid was out of the way, Brant tailed the Cathar, snapping:
“Answer me, cat! Where is the major?”
“He fell,” the Cathar finally said, but only after he had gently laid Dorne onto one of the beds in the medical bay. Continue reading “The Mettle of the Mandalorian”
The brothers were quarreling again. Vette grimaced and quickly jogged into the medical bay of Havoc Squad’s starship. She didn’t know what she was going to do in there — both Kellaro and Brant could outmatch her when it came to fighting — but she didn’t feel right just letting it continue, either.
The corpse of the human Brant had slain was still lain out on one of the medical bay’s tables, halfway through an autopsy. Lieutenant Dorne was standing nearby, holding a scalpel in one hand as if she was contemplating who she would rather shove it into: the Major or the Sith. Vette came up beside her, gently touching her where her stained surgeon’s apron didn’t cover, nodding in query toward the twins.
Kellaro answered her inadvertently before Dorne could. “We had everything under control, until you arrived. You not only directly disobeyed my orders, you…” The human blew out his nostrils, but he couldn’t resist the rage, snapping his teeth into a grimace as his eyes flashed. “You killed our contact!”
“He needed to die,” said Brant stubbornly.
“I am the one who chooses that! I am the commanding officer, not you.”
“You certainly excel at making your will known at the top of your lungs,” Brant snarled back. Continue reading “The Middleman”