Chapter Text
Chaper 1: Oooo shiny!
Jaster reflected on the path that had brought him to Manda.
Not the Manda, mind you. The planet Manda, in the Manda system, of the Manda sector.
He supposed it started with his buir, the way they'd argue for days or even weeks on end about his buir's loose interpretation of honor.
That had led to joining the Journeymen Protectors just to get out of the house. The other Mereels that'd agreed with him also found work outside the yaim, mostly beroyase. Over the years he'd gotten a few scattered comms about various family members marching on. Far too often with the blame laid at his buir's feet. He knew the others wanted him to challenge for leadership. Just as he knew his buir would not stop until one of them was dead.
Unfortunately even in law enforcement he couldn't escape toxic shabuir'e that abused their authority. He'd been officially banished from his own home planet Concord Dawn after killing his own superior officers… but he couldn't really regret it after what they'd done.
So he'd taken his ship and spent a while just floating as he browsed the job listings on the holonet. Nothing that called for his degree was listed, of course. As he stewed and tried to figure out what he was going to do now, he brought up his dissertation.
The Canons of Honor and the Modern Age. Two fifths of his panel had been ready to declare him dar'manda for criticizing the ancient strictures of Mando'ade, but they had all listened and in the end it had been enough for them to pass him. Doctor of Historic Studies with a specialization in the Sith Wars. What a joke.
On a whim he had set about rewriting his thesis. Instead of pointing out flaws, he simply outlined the structures he thought made sense to modernize the old codes. In the end he spent three days floating above the planet he'd just been exiled from, living off rations and instant caf, but he did it. Obviously people with actual authority would make changes if the paper ever even was seen by them, but at least it was some suggestion of a path forward.
Sleep deprived and back to browsing job listings, he'd selected a posting by aruetiise looking for a guard on an archeological dig for the next year. Close enough. He quickly titled his new paper "the Supercommando Codex" and posted it to an open forum before setting course for Manda.
The Boabab Institute had allowed a group from the Coruscant Historical Society to run a dig on a ship that had crashed on its way to the Institute soon after its founding. Jaster didn't know if the Institute had mistaken the Society members for part of the Coruscant Historical Preservation Society, or if they just thought this dig would be a safe way to keep them out of the way. It turned out that the CHS was a group of amateur archaeologists with familial ties to various senators. When he'd found out, Jaster had been tempted to quit on the spot. But it was probably for the best he hadn't. He'd kept meticulous notes (unlike the socialites), recorded the entire site daily with his buy'ce, identified the cause of the crash by the carbon scoring on the hull (a direct shot near the engines, likely pirates), driven off three pirate attacks, and caught one of the laborers trying to steal artifacts.
Now the dig was wrapping up and the last few artifacts were being crated up for delivery to the Institute. It was nearly time for him to go back. Not home, he likely didn't have one by now with how things had been going. He hadn't had contact with anyone outside the dig team and planetary security for the last year.
Jaster straightened as one of the socialites came towards him. Nisa Gallia was one of the few on the team to earn his respect. She seemed to be the only one to understand the importance of keeping accurate records and had been delighted by his recordings. She wasn't the most socially connected of the group from what he could tell, but she did have an actual degree and wasn't afraid to work hard.
"Mereel," she bowed her head, having learned the fuller bows she was more accustomed to made him uncomfortable. "I really must thank you again. When Groff stated his intent to hire a mercenary to guard the site I admit I expected some illiterate brute rather than a fellow scholar." She paused to grin at him teasingly and he huffed at the oft repeated joke. "I do have something for you…"
She glanced around before pulling out the oddest of their finds, a beskar cube a bit larger than a fist. The cube was hollow with light shining through carved symbols on each face, flickering like firelight. The symbols, he had explained with wonder in his voice, were ancient single symbol representations of the Six Actions.
"I don't need to be a Jedi like my little niece to know that this belongs with the Mandalorians. I trust you to find a safe home for it more than any Republic historian or official so… please take it with my thanks. I'll make sure any trouble from this doesn't fall on you."