#mandalorian clone trooper culture

[lzlilo]

Happy Valentine's Day everyone❤️

Let's aspire to a love full of camaraderie🧡

[ani-and-the-corries-au]

There are some things that all troopers know Nat born's will never understand.

All the troopers grew up in a world where perfection was the standard and anything less resulted in death. Where individuality was a crime and being anything more than just another number was a danger, Where saying the wrong thing in front of the wrong person could get you killed.

All troopers know this, but post Kamino the Guards have had it drilled into them all over again. If they want to survive In the Senate they have to fall back on the lessons they learned on Kamino.

The Corries know that there are some things that nat born's will never understand. Things that Nat born's shouldn't understand.

So no one in the guard quite knows how to feel about the strange fallout of the Shiney squad's Jetti Cadets apparent discovery of the Guards position on Courcant.

It starts small, the guard notices that the boy stops being weird about the fact that most of the Corries don't use their names, when asked, the boys. "It's because I know that you have them now." raises more questions than answers, because apparently the boy just figured out that they used their designation numbers around the Senate because their names were a secret on his own. He also seemed to get an unreasonable amount of joy from the fact that all the clones chose their own names.

If it has stopped there then it probably wouldn't be so weird, but it didn't. From sneaking in extra medical supplies and food, (actual food, not just ration bars) when he discovered that 'depur' was cutting their budget for stuff that they needed to function, to the way he seemed to intrinsically understand their need for secrecy, and their reasoning for it. "secrets keep us safe." Without anyone seemingly telling him.

They all agreed that they weren't gonna ask about how the boy had managed to rangle several senators around to the truth of the situation and his point of view with only a few words to one of them. A point of view that not only had them working on trooper sentient rights bills, but also had them aiding in his more under the table helping.

At first it was weird and confusing, both because this kid was a nat born, and because how did a Jetti Cadet develop this kind of understanding, he was a child. It took them a while to connect the dots, Even as the boy started unconsciously dropping hints.

At first it was that weird little nickname he had for the Senate and Senators, in a language that even the most nerdy of Corries didn't seem to understand. They weren't sure what a Depur was, but apparently it applied to the Senate and was probably not a good thing.

The next clue was the stories, because as Anakin spent more time with the guard, becoming more of a Vod'ika than a Jetti Commander and subsequently beginning to learn more and more about the secrets that they kept from the rest of the Senate.

As the boy learnt about the lighter side of the inner workings of the guard, and how to speak the clones particular brand of Mando'a, the guards began to learn stories about Ekkreth, Leia and Ar Amu, stories about secret plots and tricking the The infamous Depur in ways that resulted in the freedom of those he enslaved.

About secret Languages, Tzai, Jappor snippets and secret rituals. About the ways one could steal back some control from the Masters in ways that they would never even notice. About things that the boy claimed that all Slaves should know, lessons that would help keep them safe from their Masters. A term that by now the guards suspended was not referring to the kind the Jedi had.

By the time the boy causally mentioned that he and his mother had been enslaved prior to him being taken to the temple, the Guards already had a pretty decent picture of the situation.

The fact that the boy had been adopting them into his own culture right under their noses had been vastly more surprising. He'd been a little awkward when he'd admitted it. Saying that he knew that they were sort of Mando'ade, but they could be Amavikka too if they wanted.

And sure, maybe it was a little dark that part of the reason the boy spent so much time in the barracks was because it felt familiar, but also this kid cared about every single one of them, to the point where he apparently sees them as family.

Well it really was no wonder that it was agreed that the entire guard would do just about anything for their Ad'ika. Including possibly stopping said Ad'ika from doing the same for them. (Bloody Skywalkers)

[seven-oomen]

I only have three words for the Bad Batch and Clone wars fandoms and I think more people should be on board

Mando'a Sign Language

Especially for Echo after his ordeal on Skako Minor. I bet being experimented on like that and being blown up has left him with hearing issues and when his cybernetics fail, or he doesn't feel like talking verbally, I think it'd be a nice touch to have Clone Force 99 use Mando'a Sign Language or something.

Idc if it exists or not, we're fandom, we can make it fanon.

[auxxrat]

ALSO—

Star Wars community as a WHOLE needs to talk about the constant disrespect that Tem has gotten.

[lieutenant-teach]

Wandering around the galaxy, ex-Commander Cody and little Din Djarin meet an unexpected adversary, and Cody learns about a new burden he acquired unknowingly. 2/3 part (1 part), (part 3).

Cody enjoyed the planet Trask - being away from the Core Worlds, it remained unscathed by the Clone Wars; being small, not densely populated and lacking valuable resources, it wasn’t occupied by the Empire that aimed at most important and valuable planets and systems. No matter how much Cody disliked the Outer Rim for its mostly criminal population and their shady occupations, now he was glad to catch some breath in there.

Especially while he had a kid on his hands.

Din turned out to be a not very problematic child, though quite different from the cadets on Kamino. Not physically trained, which is a huge minus when you’re on the run. But, like a cadet, he didn’t complain about lack of comfort and stability in such life, though Cody tried his best to provide him with food better than rations. Regrettably, it required more sallies on the surfaces of various planets, thus it was more dangerous for both of them. Cody shuddered from a mere thought what the Empire would do if they were caught.

Apart from physical comfort, Cody attempted to give at least a little bit of emotional comfort to the kid. At times Din woke up crying, and Cody held him until the boy fell asleep again, exhausting himself from tears. At these moments Cody felt like breaking apart a bit every time, pressing Din to the chest, listening to his occasional whimpering in his sleep. The kid deserved a normal life, not all of this disaster happening to the Galaxy.

He felt both proud at a little brave cadet and bitter at a child forced to grow up too quickly when Din asked to teach him shooting.

They’d spent several days in the town in some kind of a ratty tavern, avoiding unnecessary questions and suspicions, as they easily passed for a father and a son due to similar complexion and hair and eye colour. Cody worried that he would be recognized for his distinct face, but not yet – the locals had never acquainted a Jango Fett clone before, and all the Republican propaganda portrayed troopers only in full armour, a very clever way to erase personalities. Though he continued to pull down the hood when walking the streets – just in case.

When one day they met someone from Cody’s past. Or, more precisely, from Kenobi’s past.

Cody felt someone was watching them. So did Din – the boy was glancing around nervously and squeezing Cody’s hand tighter. Cody lowered another hand near the blaster; if the follower was daring enough, they’d shoot right in the centre of the market brimming with unsuspecting citizens. And then he recognized a face in the crowd, watching him like a hawk. He raised an eyebrow, the person nodded to the street corner nearby, inviting for a talk.

– Where did you take the kid? – she attacked him with a low voice as soon as they turned the angle. Din hid behind Cody at the harshness.

– Hello there, Duchess Kryze, - Cody answered curtly. – I deserted.

– And still wearing their armour? – her hand was hovering over her own blaster, her posture tense as a nexu ready to strike.

– Better something than nothing, - he shrugged. – Why are you here? – He thought with regret that they’d have to leave the planet – if he met Bo-Katan Kryze, an heiress of Mandalore, who knows who else might hang around there.

– Why should I believe you? – she gripped her blaster, ignoring his query. – Who’s to say you don’t want to… - her eyes widened, she even took a step back. – How did you get it?!

– What? – Cody was taken aback, then he moved his free hand that wasn’t covering Din to the hilt of a saber on his belt.

– The Darksaber. How did you get it? – she hissed, her face twisting with anger.

Losing the blaster while fighting off the pirates intending to ransack your ship and sell the kid you take care of into slavery wasn’t fortunate. There were just too many for one man, as tough as Cody was – if not for Din’s shout ‘Cody! There!’ and him throwing something he dug seconds before from the mud. First Cody thought it was some dagger, but when the air hissed and enlightened with a brilliant black blade shining white on the razor-sharp edges and producing threatening buzz – he realized it was something different. Lucky him, he still remembered several lightsaber-wielding lessons General Kenobi gave him back during the war.

The saber was heavier than the General’s, almost non-cooperative, his first swings were clumsy and messy. But Cody knew he had to protect the kid, and with each movement the blade became lighter and lighter.

Still, Cody preferred non-Jedi weapons. So after fighting he disengaged it and clipped to a familiar spot on his belt – again, just in case of an attack. There weren’t many helpful blades conveniently lying around and waiting to be picked up during a skirmish, after all.

– Found it, - he shrugged again, playing nonchalant, mentally working out the ways of retreating.

Bo-Katan squeezed the fists, she was burning with barely controlled rage, though Cody couldn’t understand the reason. He remembered vaguely it was some Mandalorian weapon of historical significance – maybe, that was why she was so unhappy? She wanted a part of her culture back.

– You have no claim to this sword! – Bo-Katan raised her voice, then caught herself at a possibility of attracting unwanted attention of the passers-by and continued a bit softer: - This is a Mandalorian weapon, not designed for such like you! You have no right to wield it!

– I don’t have any ‘claim’, and you’re scaring the kid, - Cody intoned his ‘commander’ voice that some especially impressionable troopers called ‘regal’. Din mumbled ‘I’m not scared’ from behind his back and stepped a bit forward as if ready to confront Bo-Katan by himself. She threw a dirty look at the boy and turned her attention to Cody again, looking at him with thinned lips and narrowed eyes.

– According to an old Mandalorian tradition, whoever wields the Darksaber has the claim to the Mandalorian throne. But only in case of an honest fight.

– Duchess, I never intended to get involved in Mandalorian politics, - Cody felt an unpleasant feeling that despite his wishes he was getting tangled into something quite unsavory. – You can take the saber and overthrow your Governor Saxon or whatever, I’m not a part of it. – He knew this woman wasn’t sharing the peaceful policy of her sister, but frankly (and quite meanly) Cody didn’t give a flying kark about Mandalore. He knew these people had always had civil wars now and then ignited by their biggest ruling clans, and it couldn’t be worse than the Imperial occupation now. He even felt pity for Mandalorian citizens if all they wanted was to live in peace. Although, New Mandalorians were a very fresh change as per info he read, but the peace historically never lasted long on Mandalore.

But also there was one thing that turned almost all the clone troopers off while mentioning Mandalorians.

– I cannot just ‘take it’, - Bo-Katan spat and raised her chin proudly. – A true Mand’Alor must win it in a battle. Fairly speaking, I even feel insulted challenging such a disgrace to a Mandalorian. Dar’manda.

– Disgrace? – For one small second Cody’s stomach fell of rising fury born out of utter hypocrisy of this woman who had her opinions shared by all her compatriots. He didn’t even notice Din flinching as his voice dropped so low it was freezing cold as Hoth. – Did I ask to be created like this? Did any of us have any say in it? You dare to call me ‘soulless’ – where were you? – He stepped forward almost menacingly. – Where were you all, when millions of Mandalorian clones were being created and used in a war and discarded when ‘defective’, used as chipped puppets to kill the Jedi, who actually cared about us? So noble, so proud, so honorable Mandalorians – did you care about us? We, born Mandalorian, were never ever considered by all of you even as sentients, much less a part of you. We protected you – and you call me ‘disgrace’? Just because we were unfortunate enough to have some Mandalorian as our donor?

Bo-Katan clearly never expected such harshness and such words, moreover, it never ever crossed her mind – she even backed a bit, looking at Cody with surprise.

– You say this sword makes me your king? – Cody grabbed it from his belt and squeezed in his hand. – Who would even want to be your king? A people, who cannot live peacefully even on their own planet! Tearing themselves apart time and time again because of what – difference in traditions? At least we had a community – we, ‘disgraces’, as you love to call us.

Bo-Katan blinked, as if really seeing Cody for the first time. Cody exhaled sharply, only now realizing he was shaking with helpless rage – of unfairness, of disgust, of all this pain never noticed by the Republic. He steadied himself, composing his expression again. Glanced at Din, who was looking at him with a weird mixture of compassion, fear and determination. 

– Take the sword, Lady Kryze, - Cody held out the hilt. – I reclaim my responsibilities that I obtained unknowingly.

– I cannot, - she didn’t hold out her own hand. – Challenge is obligatory.

– Then let the Empire and its minions continue ruining your people. Whatever, Duchess, - he threw the Darksaber into the mud to her feet. – I’ve said my piece.

[pl-panda]

You know, going by the older lore of Clones being mostly trained by Mandalorians before going on and living with Jedi generals, they must've developed weirdest culture mix imaginable. Like... mandalorian and Jedi culture are so very different and yet clones just cherry pick whatever fits their grim reality best from both. Add to this the stuff they developed on their own and it'd be truly bizarre experience from any mandalorian to interact with the clones. Jedi would be used to the eccentricity, but mandalorians? The uncanny Valley of culture clash would be a hillarious mess.

[doolallymagpie]

i've got a take on mandoclones:

definitely don't like it when all clones seem to inexplicably be equally interested in mandalorian culture

like, in legends, the mandoclones were chiefly specific commando units, trained by mandalorians (IIRC they were vetted thoroughly by...somebody, idk who, to make sure they also wouldn't try to train the clones to be loyal to anyone but the republic, so it gets real fucked up)

but it seems like the common take nowadays is "clones are mandalorians, all of 'em, because they were cloned from one"

[setaripendragon]

Blood Upon the Snow by Hozier - in Mando’a

Here we go again.

This one is... not quite as difintively A Clone Song to me as the others I’ve translated, but there’s something about the fact that the mando’a phrase for a fresh start is ‘cin vhetin’ or white field/fresh snow, and it’s also what they call pure white armor... like the clones’... and how many of them died needlessly, died without knowing anything but war... Well, I just kind of had to translate it into Mando’a.

I’m honestly pretty pleased with how this one came out? The scansion is pretty damn good, with only one or two spots where there’s an extra syllable, and it still fits fairly nicely. (That’s the nice thing about translating a slow song; there’s more leeway.)

So, here it is:

Tal bat Cin’ciri (Blood upon the Snow)

Bah an kebise o’r kaysh taylir (To all things in her keeping) Oyu’baat dinu akaan (The galaxy gives violence) Kaysh meg mar’eyi tsad (He who finds a pack) Kaysh meg kemi yust* solus (He who walks his path alone)

Uvet drashaa uraktoshya ti cir’nara* (The world grows harder with the winter) Buire kyr’churu val vaar ik’aade (Parents bury their half-grown children) An senaare shev’la (All the birds are silent) Sa utreeyai* bat cin vhetin (As they starve on a white field)

Cir’nara tran*, ge’tal bat cin (Winter sun, red on white) Sa tal bat cin’ciri (Like blood upon the snow) Sa tal bat cin’ciri (Like blood upon the snow)

Kyrbeje olar darasuum (The battlefields here are endless) Eparavur bal su draar yaihil (Devouring and yet never satisfied) An meg oyu’baat ru dinu (All that the universe gave) Cuyi taab’echaaj’la lo ka’ra (Is marching on into the stars)

Ni kemi yust (I walk the path) Bal bid kisol olar suvari (And so few here understand) Meg dha’ne ca (What the darkest night) Bal cir’ne woor ven hiibi (And coldest wind will take)

Ni jii dar copaani (I now no longer want) Haa’taylir vaii yust slana (To see where the path goes) Dargana ner nada* (I lost my warmth) Sa tal bat cin’ciri (Like blood upon the snow)

Tal bat cin’ciri (Blood upon the snow) Tal bat cin’ciri (Blood upon the snow) Tal bat cin’ciri (Blood upon the snow)

Ner kot ven nu trattoko (My strength will not fail) Al ibic akaan draar ani (But this war is never done) Kurshise nuvore (The trees refuse) Naas meg vencuyani (Nothing which sustains them) Nu pitat, nu tran’nau (No rainfall, no sunshine) Nu tal bat cin’ciri (No blood upon the snow)

Tal bat cin’ciri (Blood upon the snow) Tal bat cin’ciri (Blood upon the snow) Tal bat cin’ciri (Blood upon the snow)

Bah an kebise o’r kaysh taylir (To all things in her keeping) Oyu’baat dinu akaan (The galaxy gives violence)

[*yust (way/path, esp. metaphorical) = goyust (road)] [*cir’nara (winter) = ciryc (cold) + ce’nara (time).] [*utreeyair (to starve) = utreeyah (empty) + yai (belly). Could also mean ‘barren’ as in, unable to have children, as ‘yai’ also means ‘womb’.] [*tran (sun) = tranyc (sunny).] [*nada (warmth/heat) = nadala (hot)]

[engagemythrusters]

ALSO to further prove my point about CTs not knowing much Mando’a—literally the book series where it’s made canon that any of them know Mando’a at all states that CTs don’t have access to the culture. The ARC Nulls/Alphas and the RC clones do, but not the rest.

AAAND later on there’s this:

THEY ONLY KNOW A FEW WORDS Y’ALL. And they respond to most of it in Basic (aka Sicko earlier in Triple Zero responding to “Vor’e” (thank you) with a simple “you’re welcome” instead of “ba’gedet’ye”)

They pass down a few things, but NOT THE WHOLE CULTURE AND NOT THE WHOLE LANGUAGE

PLEASE allow clone troopers’ own culture to develop! This is so so important! Don’t just rely on Mandalorian culture—they were raised so differently! Let! Them! Have! Their! Own! Culture!

[panther-os]

In a similar vein to a post I just queued, if you're writing clones or Mandalorians in Star Wars, "kov'nyn" (lit, head punch) is for the gesture of affection, "mirshmure'cya" (lit, brain kiss) is for the violent head-butt, and "keldabe kiss" is for both. Shortening "keldabe kiss" to "keldabe" makes sense but Keldabe (lit, strongholds) with a capital K is also a city on and former capital of Mandalore. (Iirc, it was the capital before Sundari.) So use your best judgement based on context and don't forget your articles! The difference between "he pulled him into a brief keldabe" and "he briefly pulled him into Keldabe" is real.

[the-baddest-of-batches]

This is not finished, just me playing in Procreate with Suru, another clone OC of mine who lost his leg and eyes during the clone wars. He's a bit prematurely grey, but you can blame his 2 kids for that.

Proud buir of the little clan Kad'la 💕

[lazinesswrites]

For WIP Wednesday if you're still taking asks: Cross doesn't kill the Lt.

Hi! I was definitely still taking asks, just took me a while to get around to the last of them. Fun fact: The first half of the asks I got this time around were all for CrossRex, and the second half were all for this one. I only put those two on the list, of course, but it's kinda funny that they were separated like that, and not like. One ask for one of them, then a couple for the other, then a couple for the first again, etc. Anyway. Here you go:

But Echo and Rex and other regs have been looking into Mandalorian culture especially, and have had the Jedi around who’ve jumped on every chance to share what knowledge they have of different cultures, and they have a lot more data to go on besides. What they’ve found is that most Clones are partial to Mandalorian food, or similar cuisines that maybe aren’t ‘high end’ or anything like that, but which is hearty, nutritious, and full of taste – it’s probably a preference passed on from Prime.

[seven-oomen]

Amidst the political labyrinth of Coruscant, where power struggles echoed in the hallowed halls of the Senate, a different dialect emerged. Troops on Coruscant, especially those of the Coruscant Guard, mastered the art of subtlety. Their gestures were slight, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye. They relied on minute changes in body positions, crafting a language that allowed them to communicate discreetly amidst the chaos of political intrigue.

The influence of Jedi Generals left an indelible mark on the evolution of this silent language. Mace Windu's troops, disciplined and reserved, utilized gestures that were succinct, cutting to the heart of the matter. Anakin Skywalker's troops, infused with his passion and intensity, employed colorful, rapid movements, their hands a blur of activity. Plo Koon's troops, mirroring the fluidity of their Kel Dor leader, moved with a graceful flow, their signs embodying a sense of calm amidst the storm.

Specialized units, experts in their fields, crafted intricate vocabularies tailored to their expertise. SCUBA units, masters of marine environments, developed an extensive lexicon for underwater conditions, their signs flowing like the currents they navigated. Bomb disposal units, tasked with handling explosives, created detailed signage for different types of bombs, ensuring precision in their high-stakes missions.

In the shadowy corners of the Senate, the Coruscant Guard meticulously honed a complex vocabulary. Their signs spoke of degrees of treachery, allowing them to assess the moral compass of those they guarded, ensuring the safety of the Republic from within its very heart.

All I can do is breathe in awe at this masterfully crafter piece. It's perfect. <3

[kittystargen3]

Story Summary: A time traveling Grandmaster, to the Prequel Era, trying to fix the mistakes the Jedi made, and get rid of a certain Sith too. Only Time Travel is not that easy, as Yoda will soon learn.

Hello all, I've published a new chapter to Time Travel: To the Past Yoda Goes. Below is a small selection. Please click one of the links above to read more.

Chapter 66- Eyn Dini’la Dajun

Jango lifted himself from his hiding place and shook his head.  Not only did his armor stay cool to keep his insides from cooking, but his helmet had a special layer to protect him from the pressure of the explosion.  Jango saw Dooku poking his head up from the inside of a nearby building, but his Ade were all obediently staying where he’d left them.  “Bic cuyir morut'yc.  Gar liser olaror dayn jii.”  (It is safe.  You can come out now.) he told them.

Everyone came out of their hiding places.  Jango did another silent count of heads to make sure all were with him.

“Anakin! step away from the wall.”  Dooku hollered at one of the Jetti younglings.

“I’m just looking at it.”  Anakin rebutted.  “Is that where we’re going to go in?”  

“Indeed, a large enough hole for entry, that is.”  Yoda studied the rock wall.  

“Yes, that should get us in fine now.  Thank you for your help.”  Dooku nodded.  “Ray toor shay me.  I’m sorry I don’t know the words in Mando’a for Goodbye.” (Ret’urcye mhi, maybe we'll meet again)

“You act as if you expect me to ba’slanar haar aka dar’ani. (To leave the mission incomplete .)  I assure you, I have no intention to leave this battle unfinished.”

“But you don’t understand…”  Dooku started.  “Our old comrades were infected, taken over by Sith.  They will look like Jedi, but no evil will be below them.”

“Darjetii…(Sith) Yes.  Ba’buir (Grandfather) Yoda explained it to me on our way here.”  Jango turned to his younglings and instructed them, “K’am Tracy’uure at mirshir.”  (Change blasters to shock/stun.)

Every youngling pulled out their blasters and dislodged the one attachment, making them a weapon any pacifist would be proud of.  

Dooku blinked and shook his head.  “To our knowledge, even a non-force sensitive was possessed by these sith.  If you go in there, there will be no way for you to defend yourselves.”  

“And you would rather go in alone, dar’tome, separated from your people.  Where is the strength in that?”

Dooku looked down, clearly speechless.  

“Now, the interior is ground I’ve never actually seen a floorplan of, but it is your yaim, your home, I will look to you to guide us.”  

“This way, come.”  Yoda crawled into the hole and entered an old room.  It was small and squarish with a doorway, missing a door, on the opposite wall.  Through this doorway appeared to be a hallway.  Yoda closed his eyes and seemed to be meditating...  

[mon-mothmas-collar]

being a clone wars fan is just having one tab opened to the fic and one tab opened to mandoa.org

[cienie-isengardu]

"Your squad was very close to General Jusik, wasn't it? Give me your assessment of him." Niner's gut almost tied itself in a complete knot now. It didn't show on his face, he was sure of that, because clones learned in Tipoca City how to present a bland face to the Kaminoans. For the ordinary troopers, it saved them from being reconditioned. For commandos protected by their ferocious training sergeants, it was just a habit, but a useful one.

Imperial Commando: 501st