No matter how hard the young Misfit tried, he could not accurately recall his childhood memories. Although he forgot not their names, the visages of his mother and father only blurred furthermore with each passing day, their voices swept away with the wind of change the forward momentum of life brought in its wake.
The furthest he could remember however -and crystal clear at that- was the day he had lost his family at the age of nine, and subsequently adopted into a new one following his rescue; he was the sole survivor of a pirate attack. Instructed to remain hidden and unseen by his parents just a few moments before the pirates boarded, he had the misfortune of witnessing -hearing, more like- their deaths at the hands of the thugs that boarded and pillaged the ship. Hiding in the air ducts, afraid of making even the faintest noise, all he could do was to hold his breath, even as a blaster sharply whined twice, after an exchange of blaster fire in a short lived skirmish in the hallways of the freighter.
Perhaps through a stroke of luck or fate herself, the pirates had not opened up on the ship and used it for target practice, and instead left it drifting in space after plundering any valuable goods or belongings.
Only hours after they left had he built up the courage to emerge from the air ducts. Tentatively, afraid of stumbling upon the unmoving bodies of his parents, he had made his way to the bridge of the ship; having developed deep interest in computers and technology at quite a young age, and possessing a very sharp mind to back it up, it only took the kid less than ten minutes to activate an S.O.S signal and put it on auto cycle.
Then the waiting began; seconds were quick to turn into minutes, as they turned into hours. Staying put in the bridge, deathly afraid of seeing their corpses, he refused to come into terms with their untimely passing as he sat huddled up in a corner. His hopes for rescue dwindled by the hour, until the loud, mechanical clack and clatter of a ship docking with his echoed in the derelict halls of the freighter. Deathly afraid that it could be the pirates coming back to leave no survivors, he hid himself in the vents once more.
Silently navigating the vents, he could see them move about as he timidly looked through the cover of an airduct; but they looked nothing like the ones that had murdered his family. They were all adorned in strange looking armor, their faces shrouded underneath a helmet as they walked the hallways with caution, their weapons leveled forwards.
It wasn’t for long after he saw them, he stared back at a T visor with widened eyes, looking straight at him; the cold, emotionless armored visage of the fabled Mandalorian warrior.
It took the scared child much convincing to get him out of the vents, but emerge he did. His family taken from him, with no other living relatives, he was taken in as a Foundling and introduced into a new family, Clan Krayt.
And what a family it was.
He harbored a lot of respect and gratitude to his clan, for saving him, taking him in and raising him, training him to be able to defend himself and those who he would love, but the treatment they gave him dulled such feelings as years went by; ever since he passed his Verd’goten at the age of thirteen, the right of passage to adulthood in Mandalorian terms, and became a fully fledged Mandalorian, people he called kin slowly begun singling him out, his brothers and sisters.
What made things worse, and broke his heart further, was the fact that no matter how hard he tried to fit in with his kin, his family, it only seemed they pushed him away further, and ever so slightly harder with every next attempt. Always the odd one out, it was not long until he became The Misfit in his clan.
It was when things got to the point of no return had he carried out what he had considered long ago, but never wanted to carry out; leaving. His efforts for fitting in, the countless attempts at fulfilling his desire to be loved, to feel he belonged amongst them, it all felt for naught, and was left with the only logical choice; to seek out a place where he would not be judged or shunned for who he was, finding a place he felt he belonged.
And so he did.
For better or worse, he had taken a step forward, ridding himself of the stagnation that had befallen him for so long; whether he would return to his clan a changed man -perhaps as a Mandalorian they could truly take in as family and treat him like their own- or leave them, to never return…
Only time would tell.
