(Completed) Blaster & Blade: A Untold Star Wars Story

Chapter 7

23 BBY (1 Year Before Start of Clone Wars)

Mal'dar

The targets swung up from the ground and Mal'dar blasted it immediately, the strength of the Westar blaster knocking the target back down. Another popped up behind him, he spun and fired at it. The blaster bolts struck the target's chest and flattened it.

A booted foot struck him in the back and he rolled coming out of the roll facing the direction of the kick with two pistols in his hands.

His mother had both of her pistols pointed at him and Mal'dar lowered his. "You still got me," he said holstering his pistols.

She holstered hers as well and drew twin knives from her boots. "Of course I did, and I will again," she said. She tossed one to Mal'dar who snatched it out of the air.

"Why do you get to wear armor for this. It's not very fair," said Mal'dar.

"What ever is?" asked his mother and darted forward the knife aimed at him.

Mal'dar barely parried the knife and attacked with a clumsy stab. His mother let the blade strike her armor and slashed at Mal'dar. He leaned back the knife cutting through the air where he had been. He grasped her wrist and squeezed it as hard as he could. The knife fell from her grasp and Mal'dar stabbed down at her. His mother held his stab in check with a forearm though the knife was getting closer.

She kneed him in the stomach and the breath was ejected from his lungs. Mal'dar's limbs went weak and his mother moved quickly. She slapped his hand and his knife flew out it. She caught it and stabbed at Mal'dar. Mal'dar jumped to the side and slapped down his mother's helmet built-in electrobinocular. She flinched in surprise at the sudden change in her eyesight and went to move the binocular. Mal'dar grabbed her arms from behind her pinning them in place. She squirmed in place and repeatedly stepped on his foot but he didn't relinquish his grip. He moved her arm further back nearly dislocating it. She groaned in pain then her helmeted head flew back and slammed into Mal'dar's jaw. He let go of her arms and stumbled back.

He shook himself and the double vision faded. His mother held both knives. "I think I won today," she said.

Mal'dar shook his head, "Not today mother". He held up her gauntlet and she flinched in surprise looking at her arm, the shirt underneath having an indent in it from the gauntlet.

Mal'dar pressed a button on it and her jetpack activated. She shot straight up, her helmet dinged as it struck the concrete ceiling. Mal'dar immediately turned the jetpack off and she fell back to the ground groaning in pain.

"That's four times I've won this week, best so far," said Mal'dar holding his hand out to his mother.

She clasped it and he pulled her up. She took her gauntlet back and put it back in its place. "Indeed, I believe that you're ready".

Mal'dar looked at his mother confused, "Ready for what?"

Even though she was helmeted Mal'dar knew that she was giving him a baleful glare, "You shall see, get the air speeder ready, we are going to Concord".

Mal'dar bowed his head, "Yes mother".

They left within the hour the airspeeder zooming towards Concord, Mal'dar and his mother put a box that he had never seen before but he knew better than to ask. Traffic was light as usual and parking was no problem. Most of the people around there were Death Watch soldiers and sympathizers.

They walked through twisting and winding streets, carrying the box through it all, it's immense weight straining Mal'dar's arms. The feel of the city was one of grim determination, they kept going but some didn't look as if they truly didn't want to. Concord didn't have the beauty of Sundari, which was covered with art and celebrations of Mandalorian heritage. Concord was a collection of alleys manned by Death Watch warriors.

Mal'dar smelled smoke, he looked around for the source and saw a small pillar of smoke in the direction they were going. As they got closer to where it was coming from sounds could be heard: The hissing of boiling water, gust from bellows, and most noticeably the sound of metal striking metal. They came on a medium-sized circular building, two figures standing by the forge in the center of the building.

Mal'dar froze in his tracks nearly dropping the box. Suddenly it made sense why they were here, he was going to get his armor. Today the child died, and he became a true warrior of Mandalore. He looked at his mother, the fires from the blacksmith lighting her visor orange. She nodded at him and Mal'dar returned the nod. He wanted to thank her, but he already knew the best way to do that, doing her proud.

He straightened himself up and strode into the blacksmith's building the box's weight seeming to fall away with every step. He heard his mother following just a few steps behind him.

The blacksmiths turned their attention to the approaching pair. One turned back to the Death Watch breastplate he was working on, the second approached them.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

Mal'dar's mother gestured for him to speak.

Mal'dar took a deep breath then said, "Mal'dar of House Kryze to forge my armor".

The blacksmith looked at his mother, "Is this his first armor?"

She nodded.

The blacksmith in the shop looked up at that, then he placed the breastplate in the water. He strode away nodding at the others.

"Do you have beskar?" asked the remaining blacksmith.

Mal'dar's mother took the box from Mal'dar and set on the ground. She pressed a button on it and the top slid open.

Mal'dar's heart began pounding so loudly that he could not hear, all he could do was see his father's helmet staring up at him the rest of the armor lying underneath it.

The blacksmith nodded, "This shall work".

Mal'dar's mother nodded and turned to leave. "Where are you going?" asked Mal'dar.

She stopped but she did not turn. "I cannot on this path, all I could do was lead you to it. Ret'urcyme mhi," she said and walked away.

"Come," said the blacksmith who stood by the forge, the box at her feet.

Mal'dar walked over the forge, a cold determination settling over him.

"First we must melt the beskar," said the blacksmith sliding pieces of the armor into the flames of the forge.

Mal'dar watched attentively.

"Once it has melted you must fold it on itself repeatedly, once you have done this several times mix in the carbon with it, this makes it much lighter. Then you will pour it into a mold. Set the mold into the water and take out the piece, if you want to make small adjustments heat it again and work on it with the tools. If you wish to add color use one of these," she said pointing to stone containers labeled different colors. Inside of each was clear liquids.

Mal'dar nodded.

"Do not fail," said the blacksmith and walked away.

"Aren't you staying?" asked Mal'dar.

"No, this armor will be your identity, your life, and your greatest tool. Only you can forge what kind of armor, what kind of person you wish to be. This path is yours alone, do not fail," she said and walked away.

Mal'dar breathed deeply and saw the metal in front of him. "This is my path, and I shall not fail," he told the forge as he grasped the tools.