A Foundling No More
“Interesting…” Knoll mused to himself as he watched the giddy droid skip out of his medlab.
Pulling up to his private terminal, he got to work immediately on his latest research paper. A paper that would explore the effects of Zeltron pheromones on droids, or, at the very least, on this particular KX unit.
Five days.
Five days until Querrick met his maker. He was dar’manda. Lost. Soulless. To return now would be of the utmost insult to any and all within the clan. At least, to those who truly believed. Who truly adhered to the Resol’nare. Querrick always felt that when it came to Balor’s splinter clan of the religion, very few strictly adhered to the code. It was one of the reasons he wanted nothing to do with them. Although this was never a conscious thought in the Cathar’s head, it was still true.
Worse still, his actions had made Balor himself dar’buir. The greatest insult a child could cast upon his father. If he even was able to see him, Querrick was sure that Balor would shoot him dead, himself. Sick or not.
But there was no other choice open to Querrick. He’d been searching, his entire life, for the honorable path. The true path. And while he was still certain that the path did not lead to Clan Balor, or at least, end there. He knew that the path traveled through them. And he was done running from that truth.
In an attempt to quell the fears and stress welling up within the simple-minded Cathar, Querrick began his workout routine, and did not end it, until he had reached the point of absolute exhaustion, collapsing and passing out on the floor where he stood.
When he awoke, he repeated this routine for the rest of the five day journey…
Sadra had plenty of free time in the five day journey. And with Sirena only able to teach her the bare minimum of meditation, an attempt to “commune with the Force,” she found she still had nothing but time on her hands.
She wished she understood this newfound power better. Sirena said that it had been with her always. And while that may have been true, being aware of it was an entirely different situation. How could she control it? How could she make use of it to better her skills? While meditation did give her a peaceful calm, she failed to see what more good it did. Sirena was no teacher. She’d claimed as much from the very start. But who would be her teacher? From what little she knew of the spacer tales of the Jedi of old, the ancient space wizards were wiped out completely. Nothing remained of them. So how was she to master this “gift?”
As the Elomin considered this, her thoughts were interrupted as Butter came prancing into the ship’s bridge.
“I’m baaaaaaaack!” He almost sung, as he skipped along.
Sadra jumped at the sudden intrusion, and looked to see that Butter did indeed seem to be back to his “normal” self, but in performing such bizarre movements, he was also showing just how damaged he still was from the incursion on Chad. Fluids were leaking everywhere, wires were dangling, and his entire body was erupting in small, short sparks.
“Butter!” Sadra called out, half in surprise, half in confusion, “Are you alright?”
“I’ve never been better, my friend!” Butter replied cheerily.
Sadra eyed the droid suspiciously. How much did he know? Did he remember what Sadra had done? Was this just a ruse to get her to lower her guard so the droid could mount an offensive that Sadra had no hope of fighting off, regardless of how prepared she was?
As the droid simply stood there, staring at her, Sadra continued, “Uh… You’re looking a little broken there, buddy. You want me to fix you up?”
“Hmm?” Butter hummed, then looked down at his body, “Hmm… Yes, repairs would be acceptable.”
“Right.” Sadra nodded cautiously, getting to her feet, “Let’s get that taken care of then.”
As Butter observed the Elomin’s repairs, he tried and failed to recall a time when anyone had spent this much time and care of repairing him. Sadra had gotten into nooks and crannies of his chassis that had been gunked up for as long as he could remember. He hadn’t felt this clean and this repaired since… ever!
As she finished up, Sadra took a step back from Butter and asked, “How does that feel?”
As Butter tested his systems, he looked at the Elomin with awe and said, “I have never felt so functional… Thank you!”
Querrick paced back and forth in front of the cargo bay doors as the ship landed, waiting for the others to join him. Despite his best efforts, his nerves were getting the better of him. No one had shot them down, even after he had announced himself to the port authority. So that must be a good sign. He hoped. But he still had to report to the dock master in person. Maybe he wanted Querrick’s death to be more personal…
As the others approached, he could hear Butter behind him, giving “advice” to the others, “One thing you definitely don’t want to do is insult their religion. Mandos are crazy obsessive about that topic, and they’ll shoot you dead.”
Querrick rolled his eyes. They’d shoot them dead for a lot less than that, and Querrick had already committed far worse.
As the doors opened, Querrick was greeted with a view he’d seen too many times to count. The starport was much the same as it had always been. When he wasn’t being locked away in that cage of a hut, or when he wasn’t busy fighting for his life, or “training,” as Balor put it, he was heading here, to assist Balor on some off planet mission, usually for some underworld crime boss.
As he looked around the starport, he saw that it was fairly empty. Not an uncommon sight, as most of the clan didn’t spend a ton of time on planet. Always out and about fulfilling jobs, seeking greater challenges, greater glory. He’d always mocked them in the past. Now that he’d had a taste of it himself, he begrudgingly understood them.
At the moment, there was only one other Mandalorian outside with them. A woman Querrick didn’t recognize. Again, not surprising, most of the clan kept their helmets on when out and about, even when they didn’t, Querrick never bothered to look directly at them. They were strangers to him. Cold and distant. Something to be hated. Why bother learning their faces?
As the woman looked up at him and the others, a distraction from her work on a speeder, she glared at Querrick and spat at the ground, before returning to her work.
Querrick sneered, but paid the di’kut little more attention than that.
As he led the crew into the starport’s main building, another Mandalorian was set at the small bar, eating a meal. He greeted Querrick much the same way the woman had, with a glare and little more.
Querrick paid him little attention. If mean looks were the best they could do, then he had clearly been stressing over nothing. Continuing on, he led the others deeper into the building, reaching the dock master’s office.
The dock master was also quite the armorer, Querrick remembered, and as he assumed it would be, he was busying himself in his hobby, crafting what appeared to be extremely small war heads. Despite the tension Querrick was feeling, he had to admit, the Human was a skilled craftsman.
As the dock master saw him approach, he got to his feet and said, “Querrick! It’s been too long! I’m happy your finally home!”
This caught Querrick off guard completely. He was expecting reprimands and epithets. Combat and pain. Not this… warm welcome.
“Jaffar always said you’d come home.” He continued as if speaking like a proud parent, “I never doubted ya.” He then looked Querrick up and down and let out a slight chuckle, “You’ve grown! Experienced a bit of the galaxy, have ya?”
Querrick was still too off guard to speak, so he simply nodded.
The dock master laughed again, and said, in a much more serious tone, “Jaffar’s at the lake house. He’s waiting for you.” He then paused before continuing, “If you pass the trial, come and see me after.”
The trial? Had Querrick heard him correctly? Had the old man lost his damn mind? Was he, not only genuinely not mad, but rather… he wanted Querrick to…?
Querrick shook his head quickly. Too much confusion. This had not been the day he’d been expecting. Refocusing his sights on the dockmaster, he nodded, and said, “Thank you.” Before leaving the office.
As he passed by the Madalorian at the bar on their way out, he called out to Querrick, his voiced laced with acidic sarcasm, “Hey, runt! Don’t screw up! It’d be a real shame to lose you, again.”
Querrick paid the man no mind as he continued on. As they got back outside, the female Human called out in a similar fashion, “Why’d you even come back, cat? The clan was better off without you. You should have stayed gone. It was an embarrassment when Jaffar took you as a pet when you were a mewling cub. Bad enough he kept you around after you ceased being something cute and cuddly.” She looked him up and down and continued, “Still small as ever though, I guess.” She then took off on her speeder, leaving Querrick and the crew alone in the starport.
“Jeez Querrick.” Butter spoke up, “What did you do to these people?”
“Survived.” Querrick replied in a monotone voice.
Clearing his throat, he turned to face the others, and continued, “Friendly place, isn’t it? You can see why I left.”
“Having a hard time seeing why you wanted to come back…” Sadra replied.
“It wasn’t for their sake.” Querrick replied, gesturing around him, “We’ll have to travel to the lake house by speeder. You’re welcome to come along, or stay on the ship. Your choice.”
“I’m not leaving you alone with these people.” Butter spoke up, stepping forward, as if making some grand declaration of loyalty.
The others also agreed to come along, but in a much less dramatic way.
Querrick cocked an eyebrow at Butter’s odd behavior, but shrugged in response, saying, “Okay, then.”
As Querrick hopped onto one of the many spare speeders, he noticed Knoll struggling greatly. Before he could intervene, he saw Butter taking the Arkanian and placing him into a speeder with a sidecar attached to it, while Butter got into the speeder itself.
This caused Querrick to chuckle quietly as he started up the speeder and flew across the lake, heading for the lake house.
For all the tales Knoll had heard of Rishi, both from Querrick and just from galactic cultural osmosis, none of it had prepared him for what it really was. When he had heard tales of pirate havens, and planets where lawlessness was the law, he had expected another place like Ord Mantell, or Jakku, or one of the dozens of other disgusting cesspools that they had visited while working for the Good Trader.
Rishi, on the other hand, was one of the most beautiful planets he had ever seen. Blue skies, clean clear waters, flora and fauna thriving, little interference from technologically advanced civilizations. It seemed like a paradise. At least, it would, were it not for its inhabitants…
Knoll still couldn’t understand the Cathar’s reasoning. When they had first begun talking, it sounded very much like Querrick was glad to be gone from this place. To be free. But something must have changed. Maybe it really was concern for his adoptive father. But that didn’t seem to be all it was. There was something more. Something within. Whatever it was, he seemed determined on his course, at least. Knoll could only hope it was the right course. For Querrick, and for the others…
As they drew closer, Querrick could see the lake house come into view. A palatial, yet simple abode that Balor had used as his own private lodgings, whenever they were on planet. Querrick had only been allowed inside on the rare occasion, usually to fetch something that Balor had forgotten. It was abundantly clear that this was not his home. This would be his first time ever entering the place on his own accord, and the thought made him uneasy in a way that he couldn’t place. This whole excursion had made him feel that way.
As Querrick approached, he noticed another member of the clan, seated on a bench in the pavilion outside the house. Upon seeing Querrick, he got to his feet and began to speak, “You don’t belong here, runt. Go back to wherever it was that you ran away to, and stay there.”
Querrick recognized this man. Balor’s number one lackey and body guard, as if a Mandalorian ever needed such a thing. Balor had forced Querrick to train with him on numerous occasions, and with each training session, Balor had to step in to stop the Human from killing Querrick outright.
The Mandalorian’s anger was obvious, but Querrick could sense something else… fear? Resentment? He wasn’t sure. But there was something else in those words, that made them all the more powerful. Querrick was truly not wanted here. At least, not by him. And that made Querrick all the more determined.
With a smile, Querrick approached the Human, patted him on the side of the face, and said, “I’ve missed you too.” In as a sickeningly sweetly sarcastic voice that he could muster.
“Do you require assistance, Querrick?” Butter called out from across the way.
Querrick turned to see the others, still some distance from the house. Again, the droid’s sudden eagerness to help Querrick, the backing of the others, felt strange. Smiling again, he simply held out a hand, gesturing for them to wait where they were, and headed into the house, alone. He noted that the Human behind him was issuing a slew of choice Mando’a, to which Querrick made another hand gesture behind him, as he disappeared within.
As he wandered down the hallway, towards the master bedroom, Querrick could already see the scene within, as the door was opened. Jaffar Balor, his buir, decked out in full armor, lying in bed, with at least a dozen machines, wires and tubes hooked up to him, under the armor.
As Querrick approached, he looked Balor up and down, let out a hollow laugh, and said, “Well, you look like hell.”
“Querrick! Ner ad!” He began, speaking in Mando’a, “Bic cuyir jate at haa’taylir gar. Ni kar’taylir gar ru’kel yaimpar. Pehea cuyir gar Mando’a?”
“Ni morut’t digur.” Querrick replied.
Balor let out a pained laugh, and said, in Basic, “Good. Good.”
Querrick stood there in awkward silence for a minute, before speaking again, “Zidon said you were sick. I thought it might have just been a ploy to catch me here, with my guard down, but…”
“I’m dying, Querrick.” Balor replied, bluntly, “Just a matter of fact. Quannot’s Syndrome. Debilitating and deadly. No cure.”
Querrick let out a frustrated sigh, but said nothing more. There was a lot he wanted to say. Accusations, insults, apologies, reparations… but none of the words could come to him now. Seeing Balor in this state, none of it seemed important anymore.
“I truly am glad you are here Querrick. You’ve grown so much. You’ve done well in the short time you’ve been away. Your leaving was all part of the trials. I wondered when you’d actually pull it off. Your actions were brilliant.”
This threw Querrick off even more. He wanted him to escape? He wanted him to run away, to go off on his own? A new fury quickly welled up within him. Even when he thought he was making decisions for himself, for once in his damned life, he was still playing Balor’s games. The rage quelled as soon as it had ignited, though. These little details didn’t matter.
“How did you handle the IG unit?” Querrick asked.
Balor let out another pained laugh and said, “There was a lot of collateral damage left in the wake of that particular battle. But I do not wish to recount my own tales. I wish to hear of yours. Tell me, what have you been up to?”
Deciding to humor the old man, Querrick began to regale Balor with tales of his exploits, from his very first fight with the Red Devils gang all the way up to the disaster at Chad. Querrick noticed that Balor took particular pleasure in hearing about Querrick’s encounter with Dooga Jet. He would not be missed.
“You’ve done better than I could have hoped.” Balor said in reaction to Querrick’s stories, “I always saw the potential for the warrior you would become, Querrick. Despite being the runt of the litter, I knew you would prove to be something spectacular. This has proven to me that you are ready. In fact, you have already passed the Trial of Prowess, in my estimation. But I am not the only one to whom you need to prove your worth. Many of the others still do not believe you worthy. And so, I must task you with one last challenge.
“The nearby Ovissian mine has been taken over by a group of fool pirate thugs. They’ve captured a Rishi Eel, and stowed it away within the mine’s depths. I do not need to tell you the importance of that mine. Clear it out, kill the eel. And you will have proven yourself to all of Clan Balor.”
Querrick understood all too well, and simply nodded in response, before turning to leave.
As he rendezvoused with the others, he explained the situation to them.
“And this is what you want?” Sadra asked.
It was only then that Querrick realized that he’d been experiencing so many things, realizing so much about who and what he was. But he never once explained that to the others. In response, he simply said, “This is my path. I wish to follow it. Yes, this is what I want.”
“Querrick, what about your, er, father?” Knoll asked.
Querrick understood the question, and asked, “Ever heard of Quannot’s Syndrome, Doc?”
He watched as the doctor’s eye’s flashed with recognition, then sadness, as he replied, “I’m so sorry.”
Querrick understood. Balor had already told him, after all. But death by sickness… Death, restrained to a bed, hooked up to machines… It wasn’t the way any Mandalorian wanted to go…
Shaking his head, Querrick replied, “Let’s get going then.” And headed for the speeders.
As the crew approached the more mountainous regions of Rishi, Knoll could see the mines ahead. It was a bit less glamorous than what he’d seen of the rest of the planet, but he had to concede that mining was hardly environmentally friendly. He also noticed that the place seemed completely abandoned.
As they approached the entrance, they found that the doors were locked tight.
“Anyone good with locks?” Querrick asked.
“Allow me.” Butter replied, stepping in.
Knoll watched as Butter pulled his arm back, and, sure enough, the droid simply punched through the door’s handle, breaking the lock in the process and causing the door to swing open.
Before Knoll could react, Butter had already activated his servo boosters and was flying into the room. A loud crash, followed by a slew of blaster bolts were all that Knoll could hear. Apparently, they had found the pirates.
Knoll could see that Querrick was already readying his rifle, lining up what was sure to be a kill shot, but Knoll wasn’t ready to take any chances, considering there was a massive space monster somewhere on the premises.
As he approached the Cathar, he could tell that Querrick was far too focused to notice anything Knoll did. And so, he went to work, applying pressure at just the right points of Querrick’s body to give his system a temporary boost of adrenaline.
As he did so, the Cathar let out a feral roar.
What followed was carnage the likes of which Knoll had never seen…
Querrick had become a man possessed, mowing down row after row of Aqualish thugs. Some shots seemed to defy the very laws of physics as they ricocheted along the halls of the mining complex’s offices, piercing through heavily armored brutes.
Anything Querrick left alive, Butter was sure to rectify, as the droid was not one to be outdone in the slaughter, getting more and more creative with each attack, to the point where he was making improvised weapons out of anything he could find. Crates of ore, other thugs, Knoll himself; all were fair game as projectiles for the mad droid.
Querrick had been having the time of his life. He wasn’t sure what the Doc had done, but it set his soul on fire in the best way possible. This high was only ruined when they had found the Ovissians. The stupid creatures were obsessed with Butter, calling him the “KX unit.” Claiming that the “KX unit had come to save them again.”
Querrick had no idea what they were babbling about, but it seemed to trigger something in the droid, causing him to go haywire, turning him into a pouty, annoying child.
Unfortunately for Butter, Querrick had little interest in dealing with the broken machine. So he left him with the throng of admirers, to seek deeper in the mine for his target.
Running into Sadra back at the complex’s security station, she informed Querrick, “I think I found that eel you were talking about. But there’s something else between us and it at the moment.”
Querrick simply smiled in response.
After securing the former prisoner Ovissians safely in the security room, Knoll rejoined the others, who were already knee deep in another shoot out. This time, the thugs were being led by the biggest, ugliest Aqualish Knoll had ever seen.
“How we doing?” Knoll asked, as he ran up alongside a wall near the large entryway leading to a smelting chamber where the thugs were holed up.
“Never better!” Querrick replied with a frenzied smile.
Knoll looked the Cathar up and down, and could see that wasn’t exactly the case. He had taken more than his fair share of shots. Pulling out a specialized stim pack, he jammed it into Querrick’s leg.
The effect was nearly instantaneous, as Querrick looked up and said, “Thanks, Doc.” Before jumping back into the open and opening fire.
A massive frag grenade explosion had absolutely destroyed much of Butter’s inner workings. The droid hated to admit it, but he was hurting. Well, he would be if he could feel pain. Either way, he was hardly at peak efficiency.
“I’v got you Butter!” Sadra called out, rushing to the droid’s side.
Butter looked down at the Elomin, and watched as she placed her hands on Butter’s damaged chassis. Before he could even ask what she was planning on doing, he could feel his body knitting itself back together, as if by magic.
Within seconds, he was back to prime condition. He couldn’t quite explain how, but that hardly mattered. Knowing that he was able to fight was all that he was concerned with.
“Alright, Butter, let’s get them!” Knoll shouted from behind, suddenly climbing up on Butter’s back.
Again, Butter did not understand this strange behavior, but he liked it. Rushing into the room, Butter made to charge at the big Aqualish, but stumbled as he took a direct blast from its heavy blaster.
As he toppled forward, Knoll rolled past him. Butter was quick to complete the roll, however, landing back on his feet, still mid-stride, he scooped Knoll up, twirled once, and chucked the Arkanian directly at the giant thug, causing them both to topple to the ground.
Making use of the momentum, Butter continued running, but altered course, towards the giant vat of molten metal. Picking up one of the large industrial buckets, Butter scooped up a bucket-full of the lava-like substance, and chucked it at one of the other Aqualish thugs, resulting in a most satisfyingly gruesome kill.
The droid was wasting precious Beskar, but Querrick didn’t have time to lecture the psychotic machine, little good it would do.
Seeing the leader down, with Knoll still tangled up with him, Querrick decided to end this. Taking precise aim, Querrick lined up his shot.
The blaster bolt tore through the ugly creature’s head, ricocheting off a sheet of Beskar behind him, and striking two other thugs that Querrick hadn’t even seen.
“Nice shot.” Sadra commented, “The creature is through here.” She said, leading to a partially hidden doorway.
“I’m ready.” Querrick replied.
“I’m ready too!” Butter called back, a fresh bucket of molten Beskar in his hands.
Querrick just shook his head, as he made for the door. Entering the smaller area revealed the path to the true mine, and blocking that path was a massive Rishi Eel.
Standing before the creature, Querrick smiled, and said, “Hello Beastie.”
The eel roared in response. And the battle began anew…
The fight was the most difficult he had ever faced. Still, Querrick was impressed by the valiant efforts made by his teammates. Butter had headed straight at the creature with bucket in hand, scourging its gullet with molten Beskar. Of course, this resulted in the droid getting chomped by the eel, and tossed across the room, where Sadra was now furiously working over the droid to fix it.
Meanwhile, Knoll was making use of some spiked brass knuckles Querrick had never seen before, actually managing to pierce the beast’s thick outer carapace. A valiant effort.
But it was Querrick’s piercing, targeted blasts that had caught the creature’s attention most. And because of this, Querrick suddenly found himself as the beast’s prime target.
Despite his best efforts to evade, the eel was too quick. Suddenly, Querrick was swallowed up by the massive beast, which was threatening to crush him with it’s massive jaws.
This should have been terrifying. But Querrick was riding a high unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. And this was the climax. Laughing maniacally, he began to fire at the beast from within.
As he did so, he could hear noises from outside the beast. The others were giving it their all. But it would be Querrick to deal the killing blow. This was his trial, after all. With a shot as well aimed as could be, while writhing within the gullet of a massive beast, Querrick took one last shot.
He more than heard the beast screech out in pain, as it writhed around, and finally collapsed, dead.
His trial was finished. He had done it. The Trial of Prowess was complete.
As Querrick arrived at the lake house, covered head to toe in monster viscera, he noted that Balor’s lackey was visibly shocked. He said nothing as Querrick passed him by, which struck Querrick as beyond odd. He couldn’t remember the last time the Human hadn’t had something derisive to say to him. But he continued on.
As he entered Jaffar’s room, he noticed that another Mandalorian, in full armor, was present, as well, standing next to a crate emblazoned with Clan Balor’s symbol.
And, although still wearing his helmet, Querrick could see that Balor was smiling. Something Querrick wasn’t sure he’d ever seen.
“I am beyond proud of you, Querrick. You’ve done well.” Balor began, “I raised you as my son.”
After you killed my real father… Querrick thought to himself, eyeing the Cathar fur draped around Balor’s shoulders, even now. But kept silent. Now wasn’t the time for that argument. Again.
“The other’s thought I was wasting my time, trying to cultivate you into a warrior. They thought you weak. Soft. Small.”
And so did you… He continued his inner thoughts.
“But I saw the potential. I saw what you could become if I pushed you hard enough. I knew that you would be capable of more than any of them.”
Pushed me is putting it lightly, slave master…
“You are now worthy.”
Well damn… after all these years of fighting it… Querrick thought, but he knew this resentment was not true. This was the first step on the honorable path. And he would see it through.
“You will swear the oath, repeat after me… ‘I adhere to the Resol’nare.’”
“I adhere to the Resol’nare.” Querrick repeated, internally adding, Hopefully more faithfully than you…
“‘The core of what it means to be Mandalorian.’”
“The core of what it means to be Mandalorian.” True Mandalorian…
“‘A sacred law giving us direction and purpose.’”
“A sacred law giving us direction and purpose.” … Purpose…
“‘Education and armor, self-defense, our tribe, our language, our leader — all help us survive.’”
“Education and armor, self-defense, our tribe, our language, our leader — all help us survive.” I’ll do more than just survive…
“‘We must educate our children as Mandalorians.’”
“We must educate our children as Mandalorians.” And I’ll do a damn sight better than you did…
“‘Obey the commands of Mandalore.’”
“Obey the commands of Mandalore.” Not that you ever have…
“‘Speak Mando’a.’”
“Speak Mando’a.” As if that was a habit I could break…
“‘And defend our clans.’”
“And defend our clans.” Especially when I have a clan worth defending…
Balor took a deep, pained breath, and said, “As of this day, you are a foundling no more. You are officially a Mandalorian in trial. You may call yourself ‘Mandalorian.’ You are worthy of wearing the helmet and chest piece of our people. The other pieces of armor will be awarded to you when you have completed the remaining trials. You know what those trials are. When each trial has been completed, return here and you will be given the corresponding armor. Congratulations my son.”
The second Mandalorian in the room then presented Querrick with the crate, and gestured for Querrick to place his hand on the scanner attached. As he did so, a full set of armor was displayed before him. And while it was painful to know that he would not get the full set right now, he took solace in the fact that it would be his, soon enough.
As he donned the chest piece and helmet, he was shocked at just how right it had felt. As if,it was an appendage that he had been missing his entire life, only to be reunited with it now. It was power. It was defense. It was identity. It was the first step on the honorable path that he sought.
Newly armored, he turned to his buir, and said, “I will be returning for the rest some day. Try to stay alive long enough for me to do it.”
Balor laughed, and said, “I look forward to it. Good luck, my son.”
Querrick nodded, and left the lake house.
As he passed by the Human lackey, he saw him flash the salute unique to Clan Balor. That would take some getting used to. And old habits die hard, so, in response, Querrick simply flashed the same crude hand gesture he had given earlier that day. He was surprised to hear him laugh in response to that.
As he approached the others, all looking a bit agape, he announced to them, “As of this day, I am a Mandalorian. Thank you.”
