- Joined
- Aug 3, 2013
- Messages
- 512
- Reaction score
- 0
I liked it better when I wasn't alone. Before I was in a group of 10 or so, roving free space, looking for purpose that usually manifested in the form of cheap mercenary work. We were Beviin, we were Ordo, we were Skirata. We were ex-Protectors, all of us. We refused to accept the dissolution of the Protectors, and thus the formation of Clan Renelo, from Sisk. So we moved on.
We avoided the Clan Wars, and all of Mandalorian space, it wasn't our place to pick sides. The Mandalore that survived the civil war would have our support. Except no Mandalore survived, and eventually, no one with any support claimed the title. Instead the Empire imprisoned us in our own space.
There were attempts to contact other ex-Protectors, but they were futile. There aren't very many of my kind anymore, especially not since the Empire glassed every home we had ever known. Mandalore... she stung the worse. It's hard, knowing I'll never see her outside my dreams again.
Every home but one. Roon. The entire system is preserved, a relic of another age. The age of Corden Vencu. He brought us together, he gave us purpose. He guided us home.
Soon the remaining Protectors went their separate ways, forgetting their duty. It would appear we live in another age, one without Protectors, one without a Mandalore. Maybe that's for the better...
But there is a Mandalore, his name is Corden Vencu. And I am Mandalore's man.
I have an obligation to Mandalore. I have to make an old home a new home. Not for my kind, but for his people.
We avoided the Clan Wars, and all of Mandalorian space, it wasn't our place to pick sides. The Mandalore that survived the civil war would have our support. Except no Mandalore survived, and eventually, no one with any support claimed the title. Instead the Empire imprisoned us in our own space.
There were attempts to contact other ex-Protectors, but they were futile. There aren't very many of my kind anymore, especially not since the Empire glassed every home we had ever known. Mandalore... she stung the worse. It's hard, knowing I'll never see her outside my dreams again.
Every home but one. Roon. The entire system is preserved, a relic of another age. The age of Corden Vencu. He brought us together, he gave us purpose. He guided us home.
Soon the remaining Protectors went their separate ways, forgetting their duty. It would appear we live in another age, one without Protectors, one without a Mandalore. Maybe that's for the better...
But there is a Mandalore, his name is Corden Vencu. And I am Mandalore's man.
I have an obligation to Mandalore. I have to make an old home a new home. Not for my kind, but for his people.