Like the Twin Suns
Episode I - Solitary
In the Cosmos of The Galaxy, lies a tale of those who choose to make a name for themselves. Names as such can be told through Tales from the echos. Tales as such can either be shortly remembered or can be able to make themselves worthy through the minds of generations to come.
It all has happened in The Galaxy.
From every New Order, sets another in its place.
To every victory, eventually leads to a defeat.
From every defeat, leads to a new purpose.
There were conflicts one after another.
There is the Betrayal that finds the Fallen.
The redemption that seeks to those of the welcomed.
In these difficult cycles, there is a choice.
In hopes of setting themselves anew.
Either for the light of all things, or for the worse
These were the words of Father, said to his Son and Daugther.
The Outer Rim
A lone aircraft is sailing across the vast debris of the empty waves of emptiness. Its engines were left on a steady pace of power flow as it treaded through its fuel and charge capacity.
In it revealed a Pilot, seated in front of the Controls. He had only stared through the glass as he was to his thoughts.
The Pilot wore a baggy flight suit that covered from his neck to his feet. He had bands of different types of ammonium attached to his Torso, Waist, and Legs. What stood out from the rest of him is the Beskar Armour that is binded to him It's a questionable appearance, but he had only obtained the Helmet, Pauldrons, and Poelyns.
In the honor of his father, he had left the way it was originally tinted. He had yet to recover the forearm, breastplate and the thruster pack of his father's armory. He had hope that he would be able to find them, in his honor. Though, the odds aren't much in his favor as they might've been looted from who knows where. He had the trackers set from on each of those pieces. Time will tell when he is prepared take back what is his.
Such rare material Beskar Alloy is only exclusively to The Mandalorian Warriors... The Forge of Mandalore is one that he could not make a proper visit as he is likely to be not welcomed.
Though he isn't entirely a Mandalorian, he is often called this title by many to where he traveled. They've often questioned why his kind is here where there is a war currently happening. He has never put much thought into it. This Armor has saved his life more than once and he will be forever grateful for his Father.
While many Mandalorians have fought in the name of their home, Mandalore, this one is a Bounty Hunter.
He had just returned from a successful pursuit of a few jobs that he had taken. He succeeded in bringing in four of the said targets. They were left in Carbonyte in the lower levels of his ship. It'll only be until then that he'll be paid. That is to say that his Guild Leader would go through her word...
The Hunter exhaled as he fumbled with the controls in hand, trying to keep the time to himself. He often thinks that he can be used to the humble noises around his ship. Just the low humming of the engine's throttling... The static feed he gets when he makes a check on the feed. It was not too much to wonder about these common sectors.
Repetitive, it was... Though, perhaps that is the way how they age.
An escapable yawn had breathed from him, though he shook off from the fatigue. It'll only be a few more till he would reach his pinned destination. He was thankful that this part of the sector isn't swarming with skirmishers. He made those mistakes dating back to when he was adjusting to his lifestyle... It wasn't one that he had asked for, but he made well of his reputation.
The past few cycles had been tiresome. He had well thought he would pull through these hours of chasing, though it made him regret some of it.
Having noticed the familiar ache in him, he had acknowledged that food hadn't been on his side lately. With a sigh, The Hunter removed his helmet and set it next to his seat. Relief washes over him as the air welcomes his head with a cool breeze.
His face was that of a young one. No soon to be in his adult years. His facial features of his were common during The Clone Wars. Compared to the other 'soldiers', he stood out from them than the rest.
He is a Fett.
He is an exact pure replication of his father's blood tissues. Perfection, said the Kaminoans. That was the keyword of him.
This face of his...
It's one that he grew agitated about seeing himself as well. The one of his father. It'll always implement in his head. He is well aware of he uses these words. The loss he suffered had caused him a great deal of his well-being... He knew he had to learn quickly to survive. Growing along a side of bandits has shown him the truer side of this universe. It wasn't one that he had wanted to be, but that is the harsh truth.
The Nature of it that is. It's how this world has been corrupted. The Galactic Empire has risen from the shadows and had already gone to spread like the blight. He understood that very clearly. Work had begun to incrraseand this was no better opportunity to take it. It wasn't just the Empire that has risem. There were many factions of sorts that have all gone and done their ways.
The Boy reached over to the side of his patches and took out a ration bar. With a quick tap of a few selections, he ran a diagnosis on his ship as he ate thoroughly through his meal. A Holo Projection appeared in front of him, showing him the details and layouts of his Firespray.
He notices a few nodes and fuses that would have to be replaced soon. It was nothing major at all. As soon he docks his ship, he would do so. The hours haven't been light to him, though he had to make do of what he can grasp onto.
As he was finished with the ration, he settled back onto his controls and switched the flight patterns. The coordinations are in place. The Coaxium is very well in its stage. It'll only be until then that he would buy another set.
With the quick pull of a lever, The Slave One adjusted to its engines and gained enough momentum to fire through the fast travels of lightspeed.
The Hunter had relaxed his body more into his seat as he closed his eyelids.
Rest would have him till he arrives.