Schematics of Glory: I

Chapter I


Twelve years later...


Rek sat polishing the blue dome of his fathers helmet. He eyed it over as to make sure that it shined in the light and the bits undamaged were smooth as glass to the touch. The work klaxon sounded to remind everyone in the building that it was time to get back to work. For the last ten years Rek had lived on Mandalore as was his fathers wishes just before he died. Unable to finish Rek's training as a warrior, Rek was destined now for a life in the factories building war machines and equipment for the wealthy in the galaxy who wanted the best in slaughter.

"Polus! The horn means back to work, you want to play warrior do it on your own time!" a factory overseer shouted from the catwalk above. Rek couldn't afford to be fired, so he quickly stuffed his fathers helmet back in his locker, it rolled on its side and was about to fall out as the slam of the locker door slung it inside with a indelicate crash. Forgive me buir!, Rek thought to himself as he walked back to the assembly line. The line Rek was working on today made high powered scopes made to fit virtually any blaster rifle in the Outer Rim. All equipment at the factory Rek worked was assembled by hand for quality and precision. This made for this scopes to be highly prized by mercenaries and bounty hunters on the Outer Rim.

"Polus, your behind quota again this week. Thank your shebs your father had a name around here or I'd bust you to custodial! Now step it up!" the overseer shouted from above again. Rek just bit his tongue fighting back the urge for choice words, and jumped right back into work. While he worked Rek often daydreamed about being on distant battlefields, or catching his dubious mark on a legendary hunt, like what Mandalorians were known for. Not everyone could be a mythic figure in a T-visor like his father was. For the rest you either worked as a farmer or in a sweatshop, and there just wasn't enough tech on a farm to keep Rek happy.

Unlike the average assembly line, here you didn't have just one job on the product, you were given the total pile of needed materials and assembled the whole the thing on the spot by hand using tools when needed. A far slower rate of production, but with skilled laborers provided excellent quality. Rek, was good at putting things together and understanding them, the problem was he was too good. He took longer than the average worker tweaking everything to levels of precision that far extended beyond anything anyone else could produce. But in the end this was still a factory not a craftsman's shop, and he still had a quota to meet.

The Mandalorian factories were filled with no comforts whatsoever, and often Rek would spend his shift his back bent over his work, with no natural lighting whatsoever. It had made his skin very pale, a stark contrast to the other major trade on the planet. The only luxury Rek could count on in the day was that ten minutes for eating he had just come back from. Mandalorians built laborers the same way they built warriors, hard and to an art form.

Rek eyed over the scope in his hands after sliding the power core in. He noticed a small discrepancy in the spectrum, and reopened the unit. Running his finger on the inside of the scope he noticed just the smallest bump in the metal that curved the waves as they hit the scope just the smallest bit. Really it was nothing to throw a shooter off who was worth his wage, but Rek in all his craft allowed for nothing less than perfection plus. After shaving it down some he ran his finger across it again, and shaved a bit more off. When another test merited superb results, Rek placed it in the bin to be sent down the line for quality testing.

The girl who did Rek's inspection had become rather lax, since nothing ever showed so much as a hint of failure. She smiled at him as she lazily leaned on the inspection table for support when the piece headed her way, knowing with full certainty it would get perfect marks in the tests. She was another human like himself, roughly two years older than himself who was the only one around the place that really talked to him much. She had fairly rough hands from the factory experience, and her brown hair tied off to prevent it getting in the way. Her face though lovely and soft, was smeared in grease.

"You know Rek, you set me back on my quota too when you do this. You know how much explaining it takes to the boss, when I haven't a single report on a rejected piece all day, all week for that matter?" She said as she picked up the scope to eye it over first before hooking it up to equipment for testing.

"They probably think I just pass everything without caring."

"Teilal, they can't fire you, how would the boss meet his quota?" Rek responded beginning to piece together the next scope.

"Quota?"

"Yeah of yelling at you for being having the best luck this side of galaxy."

"I don't think its luck that you do my work for me Rek." She said with a small laugh coming out as she said the words.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah she said as she winked at him. Now how you going to make this hassle filled week up to me?"

"Dinner maybe?" Rek said stopping his work for a moment to look at her.

"I don't think so, I'd die of starvation before your cooking passed your quality standards."

Teilal knew Rek had feelings for her ever sense they started talking and working near each other. She knew it, and had fun just playing with him about it. She wasn't sure if she shared that in him, but was willing to let time find out for her. She hoped Rek would take that privilege as well, and be patient. Her equipment showed green lights across the board, and that meant Rek once again without fail did a solid job. She then proceeded to send it down the line for processing and shipping.

The rest of the day was repetition of such events first building, next checking, then some light chat with Teilal on occasion, and back to building. Nothing too out of the ordinary really happened at the factory. When his shift inevitably ended Rek gathered his fathers armor and jumped on company transit for his apartment. The company provided everything for their workers, housing, and shopping locals for basic needs. Everything surrounding the factory was a miniature city with the plant at its core. The apartments provided were block style, and each room had enough for a bed, fresher, and the slightest amount of clothes. Public transit only got Rek as far as the general area of his apartment though, he had to walk another five or six blocks to get his building.

When he arrived at the door of his apartment building it was just beginning to rain. Great timing, Rek thought to himself as he entered the main lobby, which little more than an access point for the stairs, no lifts on these buildings they just weren't cost effective for the likes of common labor. Three flights up Rek reached his door, and slid his access card in for it to open. When he got inside he noticed that his bottle of Phibian beer was on top of his bed, someone had been there. Rek looked around the tiny room, no where anyone could hide if they wanted to, but it seemed vacated. He walked up to the bed and picked up the bottle. A loud thud came from behind, and he was face to face with a T-visor with a heavy blaster pistol inches from Rek's skull.

"Check the ceiling next time ner vod." A filtered voice came from the helmet that was deep and gritty.

"You know the last time that happened to me, I was adopted." Rek said just smiling back at the helmet. He had recognized it once his eyes got past the blaster. It was Ader, a long standing friend of deceased Fi'lk, Rek's father. His distinctive orange armor that was worn from the years, showed he had had many battles with Fi'lk. Even though Ader was never officially family of Fi'lk they had a bond which was close as family. Whenever Ader saw Rek, he always referred to him in that same relation as vod, brother. Rek who had been formally adopted by Fi'lk only those few years before his death, was the heir to Fi'lk and his legacy, and Ader respected him as much his father in his memory.

Ader was a real Mandalorian, a warrior bred to kill and meet any obstacle with fist and foot. He was an Outer Rim mercenary who prided himself in his ability to wrestle with Gamorreans, and more so win. He'd go from contract to contract meeting adventure after adventure in true Mandalorian tradition. It was what Rek had always dreamed since the first couple of months of living with his father. When his father died it didn't work that way, with no one left to finish training him in those traditions.

"So Ader, what brings you to break into my apartment and drink what little beer I had left?" Rek said as he grasped the armored gauntlet with his hand, and Ader grasped his forearm with his own.

"Business Rek, the only business a man such as myself is fit for. Were going on a hunt Rek." Ader said placing his hand on Rek's shoulder. Rek let out a sigh, "What do you need from me this time Ader, a tweak on your range finder?"

"I mean it Rek, your going on a real hunt. Oya! Sit down ner vod I have a story for you." Ader said. Rek obeying sat down on his bed as Ader removed his helmet revealing a scarred battered face of his many fights, and a shaved head.
"Lets get to the point Ader, I got to work early tomorrow."

"Alright, fifteen years ago your father and I had just finished one of his hunts on Alderaan. It was a cold and snowy day..."



Fifteen years earlier...

Fi'lk and Ader made way for the private cantina just a mile or so ahead with their boots caked in fresh snow. Behind them a Quarren chained up was being drug through the snow like a sled, his aquatic skin made little friction and just gliding across like a toy.

"Chilled gihaal eh Fi'lk?" Ader said smirking under his helmet.

"Who would have thought you'd have hid here of all places? Really Curnda, I there isn't another Quarren for lightyears I bet." Fi'lk mocked as he gave the chain a rough pull. The Quarren cursed in  Quarrenese as he ate a soft pile of yellow snow.

"How long now have you been hiding from us Curnda, six, eight months?" Fi'lk said scratching the dome of his helmet as if trying to remember.

"Grarrr, Nine months Mando scum, about how long you have to live after my employers hear about this!" Curnda yelled as his head hit a rock.

"Come now Curnda, do you really think your worth something to them?"

"Me...what about...? This is a bounty?" As Curnda said that both Fi'lk and Ader looked at each other for a moment and then at the Quarren.

"Twenty-five thousand alive, Curnda, seems you rattled a wealthy group of pirates who don't like your manners." Ader said, leaning down to meet the eyes of the Quarren.

"Pirates? Oh, them. I had forgotten completely about that. Uncultured swines, they know nothing of real wealth."

"And what do you know of real wealth Curnda." Fi'lk said emphasizing on the do, pushing Ader out of the way.

"Uhh, everybody wants to be rich Mando, its a tough galaxy, a few credits tenderize it a bit."

"I tell you what, Curnda. I am going to give you two minutes to tell us what your really doing here, before I let my friend here tenderize your head. Clear?" Fi'lk said with a very rough tone, that made the Quarren blink twice rapidly. He then cursed again in Quarrenese.

"Fine scum, it won't do you any good when my employers find out anyways. I was waiting to pick up precious cargo."

"For nine months? You were waiting for a pickup on Alderaan?" Fi'lk said raising his fist to hit the Quarren.

"Yes for nine months, its the truth I swear! You see the Empire has got this design for a new ship."

"It took nine months to get this design Curnda?"

"Well yeah, even the Senate doesn't know about it yet. Its worth lots of credits to those who might have a dislike for the Empire." The Quarren blinked rapidly again.

"Where are the plans now Curnda?" Fi'lk said putting his visor directly into the eyes of the Quarren.

"I can't tell you that they'll kill me if I do!"

"Boy all this snow and cold has made me tired, its a shame we have to drag Curnda all the way there, eh Ader?"

"Yeah especially since he's worth fifteen thousand dead." Ader grunted as he pulled out his blaster pistol.

"Alright alright, heartless filth! I hid it in the Ca!" Just then a verpine slug went right through the brain of the Quarren killing him instantly. When Fi'lk turned around he got a glimpse of a whitish gray dot far out on a cliff running away. Too far away to catch or know who it was.

"Osik!" Fi'lk shouted, he took out his vibroblade and thrust it into the Quarrens skull prying it open, he fished around until he pulled out the slug.

"Forget it Fi'lk we'll never know where it is now. And even if we do we'll never get to it before someone else. Come on, this ones still worth fifteen right?" Ader said, grabbing Fi'lk by the shoulder. He shrugged it off looking at the slug, it was his only clue to the location now.

"I'm going to find it Ader, I swear I am. You can either help me or stay out of my way." Fi'lk swallowed hard and stared behind the helmet at Ader with eyes of fire. Ader sighed and said, "Alright alright, I'll leave you to it, I betting against it, but if your that determined call me if you ever need my help." Fi'lk didn't respond he just sat there staring at that slug. Ader walked away towards the cantina his boots crunching on the soft snow as he went. He looked back only once to see Fi'lk still fixed on that slug.



Present day...


"I didn't see your father again until he called me after he picked you up on Corellia. When we met he was thrilled to have you of course, but he also seemed in a way agitated or stressed about something." Ader stopped telling the story for a moment and looked off into the distance, before returning to look at Rek.

"You know that part. Then came the night he died, I heard a ship land just outside my place on Mandalore, and when I ran outside he came off that ramp, looked like he had been hit with a train. He stumbled and fell I ran up there just in time for him to say, Rek's on Mandalore, keep an eye on him. He died right then and there to march far away." Ader saw Rek fighting back painful memories, and placed his hand on his shoulder.

"You already know about the piece of flimsi I found on in his that told me to bring you here, I would have taken you, but its what he wanted. That wasn't the whole story though, I found two things on him that night, the other was wrapped up and read not to open it until a couple of nights ago. Strange, but I respected the old mans wishes." As Ader said it, Rek was now at the peak of interest.

"Inside, was the slug from that cold day those years ago, and another small piece of flimsi with a name, Harlon Or'lak." As he said that, Rek was now standing.

"By the stars, the old man may not have finished this hunt, but his legacy will. Now suit up Rek, we got a trail to find!" Rek just looked at him speechless.

"What about my job?"

"You quit this evening, all taken care of. If your not out by morning they are going to throw you out anyways."

"But I'm not a warrior? There has to be some one more qualified than me." Rek said, his head filled to bursting from everything that just happened. Ader opened up Rek's bag, and tossed his fathers blue helmet at him. Rek caught the helmet and looked square into the visor which was the first glimpse of his buir.

"Rek, I know no one more qualified for this than a Polus, now get suited up or I'll dress you myself!" Rek walked over to the bag and picked up all the pieces that was his fathers armor, and began putting them on. When all that was left was the helmet, he looked at the visor again, and then turned it forwards and slowly slid on the helmet, its seal complete with the neck line. He then turned and looked at Ader.

"Oya." Rek's voice filtered through the helmet.