What is it like to lose a parent? What is it like to lose a loved one? There are no words for such a tragedy. The only solace one can give themselves is that their death was quick, or that they died with honor. My father got neither of those things. My father did the unthinkable. My father took his own life because he was ashamed. Ashamed of himself, ashamed of his family...ashamed of me. My mother tells me it isn't true, that he could not fight with the demons in his own mind...but I know the truth. It is no secret that my father wanted a son. He had three children trying to have one. Why didn't he adopt one? Save us all the trouble? Maybe he was too stubborn. Too full of his own pride. Only he could say. The only thing I know for sure is that he raised me much in the way he would a son. I'm not complaining. I like who I am. I never blamed my father for the time we spent together. I just wish I could have been enough for him. You see, my sisters were not warriors like I was. I am the youngest of three. I guess my father got tired of waiting and decided to train me instead. My eldest sister, Cynthia, became a well respected doctor in the capital city. Cura, the middle child, started out on the same path but found her love in the sciences and now works for a private firm making medicines. I love my sisters. I really do. But they don't share the same responsibilities that I do. I knew growing up it was my duty to make my father proud. I was the son he never had. Now, all Mandalorians are trained to be fighters. We can all handle a blaster or a knife. It is custom to know combat and always be ready to defend yourself or your loved ones. But not every Mandalorian has the drive and thrill that us warriors have. The bloodlust if you will? I don't like that word. Can you edit that out...? . . . All Mandalorians are trained to be fighters. But not all of us are warriors. I hear the call to fight. To take action and stand up for my people. I am a proud Mandalorian. Today I wear my father's armor as my own, as is custom with our people. We pass down our Beskar'gam, our Iron Skin. It saddens me knowing the reason for his passing, but I do not let it show. I do not wear his shame. My father wanted a warrior. I am that warrior.