Planet New London
Time: 29th September 818A.S.
Location: Mandalorian Mercenaries HQ
A young, blonde haired man stands before the massive wooden gates of the Mandalorian Barracks. The wind blows chill, the rain is boisterous. He's dressed in time-worn black clothes, nice leather gloves, and a blue-yellow kerchief wrapped around his neck, imitating a gorget. The man holds a letter in his hands. He draws a poor-crafted, yet sharp knife, and spikes the paper to the ancient door.
'Will do.'
He walks away slowly. No need to hurry, this is where he has to be. There is a small park nearby. He can wait for the answer there.
The letter is made of a small, ragged paper, signed with blood.
Quote:Greetings Mandalorians,
My name is Edvin Skaarenor. I was was raised amongst the Independent Miners, in Tau-37, Falkland. I was born to become a miner. Or so I thought.
Then everything changed, one day in the Torres Ice Crystal Field. I was careless, and an overconfident young fool. I though the interstellar storms can not hurt me, they are only the tales of the Old, to keep us away from the richest mining fields. Then a large ice block shattered my cockpit. I was loosing air and power, without any hope of survival, but then... Then our mortal enemy arrived. An outcast gave me an offer: if I smuggle cardamine into Falkland, he will rescue me. I accepted the offer, without hesitation. Now I owe my life to him. I was untrained and ignorant, the station security uncovered my secret within days, but that was enough to let the drug leak into the veins of the base. They marked my hands with smouldering iron, and expelled me into the wilds. The only reason they didn't kill me because they feared the outcasts. Now I live, but I am disgusted by my friends, my brethren. I have brought shame to myself, and my family. I have fallen, and I vowed not to make the same mistake again. I will be loyal to my new life, whatever it's going to throw into my face. During those days I've spent a lot of time on Freeport 10, among other outcasts. I've learned how to manipulate, how to fight, how to... kill. And since then, my thirst for blood is unbearable. The man who helped me once, told me, I cannot dream of joining the Outcast ranks with my history, but he knows a place, for people like me. He secured me an old Dagger craft to come here, and join the Mandalorians. So here I am, for I have nowhere else to go. But this is exactly where I want to be.
I want to become a true Mandalorian.
