Marvel crosses Star Wars, and everyone attacks the galaxy

"Still reading that book?" Toby asked, peering over Dax's shoulder as the Aldo clan member was absorbed in reading the journal.

Finn was sitting next to him, and the two of them had already read through it several times.

They had long since returned to their homeworld of Concord Dawn. Although their trip to Tatooine had left them empty-handed, without Boba Fett, Spar was still optimistic that Jango Fett's son would come to them in time. They just had to be patient.

Currently, the trio was in the largest tent, which Spall used as their main operations and debriefing area.

"This is thrilling," Dax admitted. "This is the journal of my ancestor, Keeper. We can learn a lot from this book alone."

"How on earth did this last so long?" Finn muttered in wonder. "I looked at the cover and everything is metal, but even so, the pages seem a bit much."

“Well, ancient canons of honor were written on some kind of old fabric and were said to last for thousands of years until they were lost,” Dax pointed out. “Though before then most people had them memorized or copied into other texts.”

Aldo's fingertips traced across the pages, his expression slightly focused. "Actually, even the pages feel weird. Like some kind of metal alloy.

"alloy?"

"Yeah, here, feel it." Dax held out the journal, and Finn took it from him, his face changing, and flicked it.

"see it?"

"What's that?" Finn asked, handing it to Toby, who did the same thing, looking just as confused as they were.

"Sort of like... a composite of paper and metal, if that makes sense. Toby speculated holding it out for Dax to take back.

"Sparr said the same thing when he watched it. Said it reminded him of Beskar. Dax said.

"Beskar?" Finn muttered. "So... this paper is made of beskar?

Dax shrugged and placed the journal on the table where he and Finn sat.

“Some clothing has certain metals woven into the fabric. So it wouldn’t be surprising if other materials, like paper, had metals mixed in for preservation,” Tobey said.

"Did you find anything else in that diary?" Toby asked.

"Hmm." Finn took the book and opened the second half of the Guardian's diary. "Look at this."

Toby stared at an unusual array of symbols and codes, some that looked like Mandalorian characters, others that were foreign to him.

"What is this supposed to be?"

"We don't know." Dax shook his head.

"It could be something the Guardian made up himself that needs to be decoded, or it could be some unfamiliar language he used."

"Did you show it to Spall?" Darla asked, squinting at the symbols he tried to make out, to no avail.

Finn nodded. He recognized some of the symbols and phrases. See this thing that looks like a helmet? Toby nodded. "That's the symbol of the initiates after the foundling training is over, and this curve on the pistol is the curve of the Moon of Dexun."

"Dexun..." Toby muttered. "Do we know that place?"

Dax said. "Long ago, that planet was used as a training ground for our people. That planet was long abandoned.

Toby pondered. It seemed that whatever these symbols and codes that Canderus Aldo had written down were trying to tell them something.

Whatever that is.

Then the three of them turned to look at the front of the tent, where the entrance was opened and Spaar walked in.

"You're all here," Spahr said. "Ryan told me I was thinking of letting you three see the diary."

"Sorry, Spur, we just couldn't help it," Finn admitted.

"Then you can take it with you," Spall said. "Come on, you three, it's that time again."

"Today?" Dax said in surprise.

"You're all busy," Spahr said. "Let's not keep them waiting.

"Ok."

The three followed their leader to the Protector's training grounds, where they saw dozens of Mandalorians either sparring or talking with the foundlings in their care.

"Mandalore," a random Mandalorian called out, and many turned to look at their leader, calling out his title or bowing slightly in respect.

Spall simply waved and walked over to the group of outcasts who were being instructed by Elsie and Ursa Rayne, the latter of whom was wearing a more modest outfit with a small lump on her stomach that was beginning to show.

"Mandalorian," he nodded to both of them in respect, standing in front of a large group of foundlings, about forty children of other species besides humans, all under the age of twelve.

He looked at them all with a scrutinizing eye.

"Foundlings," he said quietly, taking off his helmet as he looked at them. "You are the future of our race, our people, our culture.

He motioned for the group of children to follow, and the instructor followed him to the front of the training grounds, where he sat on a set of rocks. Spar waved his hand, and the children all sat down, with several Mandalorians standing beside him, and the rest of the group surrounding the children in an almost protective manner.

“I know some of you who were born into this lifestyle. Some who choose to do it, and some who have no choice and nothing else.” Spall began softly. “I know this is something you’ve all heard before, but I’m telling you now. We are the Mandalorians. We are your family. Everyone in this camp is a brother or sister. We fought and died for each other to the end.”

The children stared at Mandalore with wide eyes, attracted by the man's words.

“If you are struggling, someone will be there to help you. An example would be if you are struggling to make a living or need a place to live. Your neighbours will be expected to help provide shelter and in turn, you will do the same; whether you are a soldier or a farmer.

At this point, Finn, Toby, and Dax were all standing next to their Mandalorians, with Shisa being the first to speak.

“Unlike other societies and cultures, we are meritocratic, valuing action and achievement over status and rank. Yes, we do dislike hierarchies and have no real interest in them unless it is deserved. Only then will we respect those positions.

“Behold the legendary Mandalore, known as the Binder,” Dax said. “He was little more than the son of a carpet weaver, but he earned the title and his place in the history of our people.”

"As you can see, the title of Mandalore can be held by anyone," Spall continued. "Though attaining such a title is not always easy to achieve."

A child at the front of the abandoned group raised her hand, and Spall stared at her.

"Who was the first Mandalore?" she asked curiously, and many of the foundlings asked the same question as her.

"Ah, now this relates to the history of our people." Spar said with a slight smile. "The history of our people dates back thousands of years, we were once a single race, then a culture. It was once a religious warrior society under the rule of the Tangs, with complex laws and customs, and later became a paragon of honor, also known as the legend and spirit of the Mandalorians.

Finn went on to say, “These are the six acts that make up the canon of honor. These six principles defined what it meant to be a Mandalorian at the time, and anyone who wished to be considered a Mandalorian was expected to abide by them.

One: Wear Beskar armor. Two: Speak Mandoad. Three: Protect yourself and your family. Four: Contribute to your clan. Five: Raise your children the Mandalorian way. Six: Answer Mandalore's call to battle.

“This was in ancient times, a different time,” Spahr said.

“There was a time when we had real unity compared to the rest of the galaxy. Finn spoke to the other Mandalorians very respectfully, and they knew who he was referring to.

"Aga Awad," a Mandalorian in red armor, with a black ponytail, green eyes, and olive skin, spoke proudly. "The great unity of our people. He orchestrated the event known as the Return during a dark time in the galaxy's history. During that time, the Mandalorians were undisputed and unbreakable.

"Are we united now?" a Twi'lek boy asked, raising his hand.

Many of the Mandalorians tensed or were crestfallen.

"No," Spahr said stoically. "Unfortunately, we are not as united as we once were."

"Why?" asked another child.

“It’s… a complicated answer.” Spall admitted. “After the Republic’s mass extermination of our homeworld of Mandalore, we were divided. Many clans have risen up, hoping to gain power and unite our people once again.” Spall then spat on the ground. “But they have lost their way. Many have used their names and positions to gain support, and have forgotten the old Mandalorian spirit, the true ways of our people. Earn your place among the clans, not through barter.”

Spall stood up from his seat and stared at all the abandoned children.

"The Mandalorian way of life is about conflict, and throwing ourselves into it for the betterment of our clan and ourselves," Spall stressed. "We are warriors, but not barbarians. Mandalorian Jaster Merel created the super commando codex, which we still use today. Those known as the Death Watch and the New Mandalorians are nothing more than pretenders. The former wish to continue our past barbaric ways, which will lead to our demise. The New Mandalorians are nothing more than cowards who have abandoned their warrior spirit and are nothing more than their lackeys, even as they deny the Republic."

Spahr looked them all over.

"It is time for you to start training properly," Spurr announced, as many of the outcasts looked around excitedly, the older Mando smiling slightly at their reactions.

"We'll begin with the war chant that every Mandalorian knows when they are introduced to our way of life.