The Hunter in Exile
This was his way once more.
The life of a Jedi didn't suit him, nor did that of a Sith. He was a loner, watching the world pass him by while he spent his days mulling on what he had done, regardless of whether it had been willing or not. He did not belong with his family, or with any particular organization. He was just... Him. And now, he had only one thing left. And that was the life that he had grown up with before the Sith had found him. The bounty hunters that he had grown up with were long dead now, but he still had their training. It was the only memories he had of before he became a Sith, and so... It was all he had left to cling to.
But his rage, his hatred still burned deep. And it prompted him to take this job without hesitation.
A Sith Lord. From the CIS, apparently. Apparently this one did what any Sith Lord does eventually, and that's betray his camp. Took some pretty valuable, pretty expensive cargo, probably hoping to exchange it with some other party for power or wealth over there. One didn't turn on the CIS lightly. But then again, a Sith was a Sith. And he knew Sith. This was their way.
And his way was putting them down.
He abhorred the CIS as much as he hated the Sith Empire. They were all the same to him, after all. He had no intentions of doing them any service. But he hated the Sith kind more. So he had tracked them down to a planet called Jakku, where the exchange was apparently going down according to his sources. The CIS had put a bounty on his head. Dead or alive. He was going with dead.
Once more he had found himself in his suit of beskar armor, what once belonged to his mother. Melted down, re-forged and refitted for his size. He hadn't worn it in a long time, but today would be the day that he would embrace it once more. It was the only culture he had left, after all. His brother may have stepped away from the Mandalorian creed because of the poor excuses for Mandalorians that infected the galaxy now, but he had no fear of embracing the culture, no matter who blemished it.
A mining town was his destination, as he walked with purpose through it. With his helmet on, he would not be recognized. And that was the way he liked it.
The life of a Jedi didn't suit him, nor did that of a Sith. He was a loner, watching the world pass him by while he spent his days mulling on what he had done, regardless of whether it had been willing or not. He did not belong with his family, or with any particular organization. He was just... Him. And now, he had only one thing left. And that was the life that he had grown up with before the Sith had found him. The bounty hunters that he had grown up with were long dead now, but he still had their training. It was the only memories he had of before he became a Sith, and so... It was all he had left to cling to.
But his rage, his hatred still burned deep. And it prompted him to take this job without hesitation.
A Sith Lord. From the CIS, apparently. Apparently this one did what any Sith Lord does eventually, and that's betray his camp. Took some pretty valuable, pretty expensive cargo, probably hoping to exchange it with some other party for power or wealth over there. One didn't turn on the CIS lightly. But then again, a Sith was a Sith. And he knew Sith. This was their way.
And his way was putting them down.
He abhorred the CIS as much as he hated the Sith Empire. They were all the same to him, after all. He had no intentions of doing them any service. But he hated the Sith kind more. So he had tracked them down to a planet called Jakku, where the exchange was apparently going down according to his sources. The CIS had put a bounty on his head. Dead or alive. He was going with dead.
Once more he had found himself in his suit of beskar armor, what once belonged to his mother. Melted down, re-forged and refitted for his size. He hadn't worn it in a long time, but today would be the day that he would embrace it once more. It was the only culture he had left, after all. His brother may have stepped away from the Mandalorian creed because of the poor excuses for Mandalorians that infected the galaxy now, but he had no fear of embracing the culture, no matter who blemished it.
A mining town was his destination, as he walked with purpose through it. With his helmet on, he would not be recognized. And that was the way he liked it.