Recent events in Baan's life called into question what it meant to be Mandalorian. He'd made the choice to enslave free people for profit and now when he looked in the mirror he saw a monster starring back at him. He reached down into the cool water filling in the sink and splashed his face. He couldn't wash the blood from his hands. He couldn't cleanse the pain and horror from their faces. He'd been the interloper in the night, he'd was their terror in the night.
Baan was alone on his Lancer Patrol Craft. He stepped into the main cargo hold he'd repurposed into a gym. He took his place before his Mu ren zhuang and once again began his forms. The rhythmic movements of the set allowed his mind to process the atrocities he'd done. Anger at his actions, at his desperation, at his weakness. In his attempt to find his way he'd become so far detached from who he sought to be that he wasn't sure he'd be able to find his way back.
Training complete he toweled off and geared up. He stepped into his cockpit, the mottled blue conflagration of hyperspace swirled around the ship. He took his seat and at his instrumentation's urging, he pulled back on the hyperdrive. The starscape burst forth before him. Dead center sat a dessert planet. It's desolation from space made it a golden orb hanging in the vast darkness. There was a primal beauty to it. Baan felt a strange pride well up in his chest.
Planet Ordo. Homeworld of his Clan. Birthplace of Canderous, and hopefully... The place where he could finally start searching for the answers...
Baan put down in a settlement near the equator of the planet. In stark contrast to the desert of the rest of the planet, this area was relatively fertile. The town was called Cander's Rest. There was no space station, no real form of modern welcome one would find on a planet in the inner rim. It was rustic, almost as if time had forgotten it.
As he made his way down the main street, he spotted a symbol that seemed to call out to him. Tribal in nature the symbol stood out as not only a marker but as a statement. Baan turned to a passerby and pointing at the symbol said,<I'm sorry, what does that mean?>
The being, who was a species Baan didn't recognize, responded in Mando'a <It's the symbol of the clan.>
@Fine Dining Set
Baan was alone on his Lancer Patrol Craft. He stepped into the main cargo hold he'd repurposed into a gym. He took his place before his Mu ren zhuang and once again began his forms. The rhythmic movements of the set allowed his mind to process the atrocities he'd done. Anger at his actions, at his desperation, at his weakness. In his attempt to find his way he'd become so far detached from who he sought to be that he wasn't sure he'd be able to find his way back.
Training complete he toweled off and geared up. He stepped into his cockpit, the mottled blue conflagration of hyperspace swirled around the ship. He took his seat and at his instrumentation's urging, he pulled back on the hyperdrive. The starscape burst forth before him. Dead center sat a dessert planet. It's desolation from space made it a golden orb hanging in the vast darkness. There was a primal beauty to it. Baan felt a strange pride well up in his chest.
Planet Ordo. Homeworld of his Clan. Birthplace of Canderous, and hopefully... The place where he could finally start searching for the answers...
Baan put down in a settlement near the equator of the planet. In stark contrast to the desert of the rest of the planet, this area was relatively fertile. The town was called Cander's Rest. There was no space station, no real form of modern welcome one would find on a planet in the inner rim. It was rustic, almost as if time had forgotten it.
As he made his way down the main street, he spotted a symbol that seemed to call out to him. Tribal in nature the symbol stood out as not only a marker but as a statement. Baan turned to a passerby and pointing at the symbol said,<I'm sorry, what does that mean?>
The being, who was a species Baan didn't recognize, responded in Mando'a <It's the symbol of the clan.>
@Fine Dining Set