Anon Drekk
| Anon Drekk | |
 | |
| Biographical Information | |
| Race | Klatooinian |
| Homeworld | Klatooine |
| Mother | Rolanda |
| Father | Drekk |
| Spouse | None |
| Siblings | None |
| Children | None |
| Born | Year -6 Day 239 |
| Physical Description | |
| Gender | Male |
| Height | 1.8 Meters |
| Coloring | Olive |
| Eye Color | Black |
| Political Information | |
| Affiliation | Mandalore |
| Rank | Cadet |
| Positions | None |
| Prior Affiliation | None |
| Awards | None |
Youth
He was born with another name, which was rarely even used by his parents who called him by his nickname "Mah Bukee" instead. His birth name was never told to the Hutts, who simply called him "Shag Peedunkee" without giving the matter a second thought.
He was born indentured to Zorda the Hutt on Year 6 BCGT Day 239 at 17:28 hours to his father, Drekk, and his mother Rolanda on their homeworld of Klatooine.
He was raised traditionally. He was taught to speak Huttese, the language of his masters, but not to read it. He played games which developed strength, agility, stamina and observation skills. He was taken to see the Fountain of the Hutt Ancients and was taught the virtues of patience, perseverance and the power of age. He learned about Barada M'Beg's sacred war and the unbreakable divine bond which accompanies an oath. As he grew larger and stronger, he was moved to higher classes where the other children were typically even larger than he. Every time he became confident and self-aware, the bar was raised higher to humble him. He was taught to box, kick, grapple and shoot. He learned how to do simple math in his head and to fight with different lengths of sticks. He was taught his father's trade.
He graduated from Council School quite early, and just one season after his ninth birthday he was culled by the Council of Elders and put to the trials. He demonstrated a high degree of trade proficiency, so the Council agreed that he should be made stronger still and was put up for sale to the local magistrate, Zorda the Hutt, with recommendation for hard labor under harsh conditions. He sold immediately for a nice pile of credits, making his family and the Council very proud. Zorda already had him sold to an Imperial contact for three times what he had paid the Council of Elders, so the Hutt was equally pleased with the arrangement. "Shag Peedunkee" was bound for the Imperial spice mines.
Liberation
He got settled in Zorda the Hutt's Adz Patrol Destroyer, along with a number of other children who were also being delivered to the Imperial contact in deepspace. He shared a slave cabin with six other adults who were indentured members of Zorda's company of marines. He exercised along with them, much to their amusement and became a sort of mascot to the battle team he lodged with over the course of the journey. It was going to be a long trip, as the destroyer was under Zorda's orders to patrol outside of the system perimeter and at random locations along the way for possible raiding targets. It gave the young Klatooinian time to really think about what lie ahead, at the end of his course. On their third micro-jump, they found a target. A MandalMotors BFF-1 Bulk Freighter drifting in space, her sublight and hyperdrive engines both offline. Scans indicated that there were only a couple dozen crew aboard, but the cargo bays were loaded to the rim with Varium. Zorda the Hutt wanted it.
He rode on the shoulders of the squad leader until they reached the slave quarters, when he was set down and told to guard his cabin. The marines were already there, scrambling into their armor and grabbing belts and bandoliers as they rushed outside to the armory to be loaned one of Zorda's weapons. The team leader was the last one out, lifting the young Klatooinian's frightened chin and comforting him "Don't worry, champio. These are miners and laborers, we can handle them. You stay here and protect our bunks." The youngling nodded, switched off the cabin lights and ran to hide behind the big Gammorean's rack, where the lights in the passageway left a deep shadow.
When the marines had all gone, the quarters became strangely silent and in a few moments there was a big crash and a forward pitch which tested his balance. They had docked with the crippled bulk freighter. Echoing through the empty passages, he heard the hiss and pop of the breach and the sudden crescendo of blaster fire immediately after. He was amazed at the ferocity of the sounds: Yelling, shooting, metal striking metal, the terrible impacts pattering like raindrops. Soon he could even smell the acrid scent of blaster burns. The fighting wasn't going down below into the derelict freighter, it was coming closer! The deck below his feet began to shudder as grenade blasts pounded the passageway. He pressed himself deeper into the corner of the cabin and listened with terror as the battle grew nearer and nearer.
Then, just as suddenly as the firestorm had began, it stopped. The smoke cast a haze, which turned the lights in the passageway into bright shafts of white light. He listened, but the only sound was a whispered shuffle and an occasional metallic click. It was over. Just then, a dark shape swallowed the light and he looked up to see a man in an iron suit sweeping the room with a blaster. The man in iron did not see him there behind the Gammorean's bunk, but the rack which held his training sticks was on the starboard bulkhead and he estimated that it was about six paces away. When he looked back from the weapon rack, the Mandalorian was already upon him!
He shouted and made a break for the starboard side of the cabin, but the Mandalorian was stepping on his foot and he was trapped. He roared and struck hard at the T-shaped visor which had drawn closer to examine him. The visor hurt his hand. The man in iron stepped back and made a strange sound, the little Klatooinian was confused at first, then he recognized it. The man in iron was laughing.
The Mandalorian wore armor with gold trim and in a swift and effortless gesture he wound the Klattoinian's arm into a knot, leaving him with only one arm left to use and the wrong angle to use it. That was when a second man in blue armor stepped through the threshold and holstered his weapon as he approached. The two men conversed with one another in a strange tongue which the young Klattoinian had never heard before, but then the blue armored warrior turned to him and spoke with a strange accent in the language of his masters.
"You try to defend yourself. Would you also defend your family?"
His reply was as much a protest as it was an answer. "Yes!"
"Would you work to benefit your tribe and answer the call of the Warrior Eminence?"
He was becoming a little confused. Who was the Warrior Eminence? Did they mean perhaps his master? That was the moment that he began to realize, they were talking about his new master. This was his oath-taking! He had prepared himself, but not for this. His heart raced.
"Yes, I would."
"Will you wear your armor and learn our language?" He had always enjoyed learning, and Huttese had been one of his favorite subjects. He marveled at the chance to learn a second language. He would be worth even more as a bilingual servant.
"Yes. But Zorda the Hutt never gave me any armor."
"You will have to earn your armor. Would you teach your children the things that you have learned?"
"Of course..." he replied, never having once even considered the possibility of having kids of his own.
The two Mandalorians nodded to one another, and they both stared at him for an uncomfortable moment. The gold man released his arm and then reached up and removed his helmet. He was a human, with a dark curly carpet of hair all over his head. Only his face was naked in spots and he had a broad, red scar running downward across his left cheek. He offered his hand and said something in the strange tongue to the blue man, who strode over to the cabin terminal and indexed the passenger registration. "Anonymous filius Drekk", he read from the glowing screen. The gold warrior peered deeply into the Klatooinian child's eyes as they took each other's hand. He held the gold man's hand tightly, not sure what was about to happen next. The gold warrior stood and spoke loudly.
"Anon Drekk. Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad."
He looked to the blue warrior and asked "What does he say?"
The blue Mandalorian answered, "Your name is Anon Drekk, he accepts you as his own son."
Adopting children was a fairly common practice among the slaves, when younglings became separated from their parents by trade. The young Klatooinian was familiar with these types of arrangements. He looked up at the bearded warrior and asked the blue man "Is he a slave too?"
"NO!" The abruptness of the answer startled young Anon, "and neither are YOU!"
Adolescence
Anon's entire life changed on that fateful day when Zorda the Hutt learned an expensive lesson: Mandalore ships, even civilian industrial haulers, are crewed by Mandalorians. Anon was told that he would have to start school all over again, but it never really felt that way to him. The subject matter and study methods stood in such stark contrast to his experience of Council School on Klatooine that it seemed to Anon as if he were simply continuing his education.
He was amazed to learn to speak his new language while learning to read and write it all at the same time. Reading was a miracle which only the Hutts knew how to perform. Anon had seen their strings of symbols many times, but he was never able to understand what they meant. Later as he matured into adulthood, he would take Huttese as an optional second language program, just so that he could finally learn to read and write it as well. Once Anon became literate and fluent in Mando'a, he was then introduced to computers and taught how to operate their basic features. Most of his computer classmates were much younger children.
While his previous training on Klatooine gave Anon certain advantages over the other students, his enslavement served him at least twice as many disadvantages. The Council School had worked very hard to erode Anon's sense of individuality and the Mandalorian Academy had to work just as hard to rebuild it. It was years before Anon was thinking like an independent person and taking pride in his achievements.
Once Anon was operating computers, he was able to run speed-learning programs and his education accelerated considerably. He learned how to do written math to generate more accurate results, and this led to the study of complex mathematics, chemistry, physics, biology, mechanics, geography, electronics and astronomy. Anon was trained in the much more refined Mandalorian fighting art called Jakelian, which he took to with great enthusiasm. The new style was more reserved, giving him a better sense of balance and relying less upon brute strength so that he was able to conserve his energy and fight without growing tired. At the center of the art was a system which could be adapted to any weapon type and so they trained with daggers, swords, axes, pikes, even whips. The Academy nurtured his marksmanship skills and improved them, and Anon marveled at how they practiced with actual military weapons instead of harmless training blasters and weighted wooden replicas.
Anon learned to pass and receive orders by hand signal, radiocomms and holocomms. He studied strategy and took flight training. He learned economics, music theory, medicine and poetry. Anon had discovered a whole new galaxy of knowledge which seemed to have no frontiers. By the time he celebrated his twenty-second birthday, he was very near to graduating from the Mandalorian Academy. As he was completing his final exam for the hyperspace calculation program, a Galactic News Service broadcast which flickered faintly over the feed caught his attention. He dialed it in. It was the Warrior Eminence.
"Whether you follow Resol'nare or the Supercommando Codex; are a government official or a mercenary; it does not matter. Each of our groups exist to serve the betterment of our people and our culture, we are Vode An."
He remembered that day, over thirteen years ago, and what he had said to the blue warrior.
"Would you work to benefit your tribe and answer the call of the Warrior Eminence?"
"Yes, I would."
Anon contacted his tutor immediately and volunteered for combat on Serroco. He expected some sort of scholarly consequences from the Academy administration, but the reply to his request came with very little delay. It said, "We'll do the paperwork".
