Location: Wheat field on Ustrayo
Often he had thought of this moment. Aerin might not understand. Nor Quintus. Darius might. The bastards he had sired didn't know him for the most part. But the aging beskar smith had a duty to them, one and all. They bore his name, and thus his fate and crime were theirs. As long as he lived, his Clan was in danger, and the reports were always getting worse of the slaughter visited to those name Mereel. None of it official purging, of course. But the Empire didn't do a whole Hell of a lot to protect those innocents bearing the Mereel name.
The former al'ori'rami'kad stood in the middle of a field, covered in gleaming new armor of Mandalorian steel, a sword of shimmering Force Crystal at his side. His helmet was on, and sealed, and the armor was so new there was hardly wear marks on the helmet from it being grasped to be removed. Sighing, he waited, thinking over what had lead him to this bleak point. The best of intentions had allowed the worst of things to happen with him as the vessel.
Originally he had began planning to start a war with the Sith. But his mind had been unwell since Coruscant in the early days of the Galactic Alliance, and it never quite fully healed from that schism. The cunning wench he had thought was his friend had seen through his facade of strength, and over-threw his sanity and mind with apparent ease and glee, and then by his hand her will was executed and Mandalore was nearly destroyed. Even in their efforts to restore it, those in the Empire probably hadn't addressed the looming issue of unstable tectonics. Might not even know it was lurking.
But the safety of his Clan had become paramount after Utapau and the healing of his shattered psyche. So he had taken a student, [member="Ember Farseer"], to pass on his Force knowledge and learning to. A holocron had been made with the help of [member="Dissero"], which sat entrusted to his pupil. If Quintu ever followed the instructions he had been sent, the young Force User would come to Ember for those as his birthright. Darius was given his fathers rifle and crushgauntlets, and several of his other children received other gifts. And through friends in the Exile Disapora, he had learned of a young Mandalorian who could help him.
So he waited for [member="Cato Fett"], standing in silvered wheat as the sun rose on a planet the galaxy had forgotten.
Just as, maybe one day, it might forget even him. Or know him for truth.