| Baird | Date: Friday, 27 Jan 2012, 8:52 AM | Message # 1 |
 Major general
Group: Users
Messages: 465
Status: Offline
| ((The text in between the bracket's is mandalorian.  Yes I'm copying your style Jaron, sue me!))
While remaining hidden from the empire until certain modifications were done to his armor, the "terrorist" known as Damian Baird spent the majority of his time inside a space station that orbited the planet Atzerri. Only good thing's that were currently on the space station was a Cantina so that weary traveler's may come and rest, and Baird's old Jukebox. He was pretty anal about any one touching it so he always kept a close eye on it when a strange person would come into the cantina for a drink and such.
"You. Droid. Get me another."
"Sir, I've been instructed not to serve you too many alcoholic beverages."
"The hell you talking about? This is only my First one, besides if I ain't a bit tipsy, I'm angry. Droid's tend to... 'fall apart' when I'm angry. So, another damn beer. Now."
"Yes sir, right away."
"And maybe some Corelian whiskey."
"As you wish, Sir."
As the service droid went off to fetch another beer and hopefully some corelian whiskey, Baird reached into his pocket pulled out a pack of cigarettes, instead of smoking one as usual he was just starring at the pack. He was remembering the past, this gave him head-aches. He shook his head and looked around the place seeing that it was completely empty. He closed his eyes for about a minute. Suddenly, a voice was heard.
"Su cuy'Gar, Damian."
The voice wasn't that of a droid, it sounded like a friend of his that was lost in battle. Baird stood up, looked around the room only to see nothing, he wasn't sure if he was dreaming or if Hajo was messing around with him.
"Haar'chak! If you're messing with me again you little white freak I'll brea... k... you...r..."
Baird stopped in the middle of his sentence only to see the ghost of his relatives, the look on his face was exactly like he saw a ghost too, all shocked and surprised.
"What in the ... But you are all dead... I was there when some of you died... I... Did I take some spices?"
Baird plopped down on a chair and rubbed his face, he was going stir crazy.
"[The galaxy need's you, Damian. You are just wasting away here.... Drinking imported whiskey, not following the Resol'nare. You are on the path of becoming Dar'manda. Is that what you wish? Our people may be scarce at the time, but that doesn't mean we don't exist. The spirit of our ancestor's persevere through you, and every other Mandalorian warrior that still exist today, in the age of the darkness. They've tried to take our homeland for our iron. You, Damian must help liberate Mandalore... Who knows perhaps one day you'll be Mand'alor and will bring great honor to our name, like your ancestor's did way back in the day. Find allies my child, you cannot win alone. Remember... An vencuyan mhi.]"
After a short while the service droid returned with both the beer, and a glass of Corelian whiskey. Baird wasn't facing the droid so he didn't notice it come back. He was just sitting there, facing towards the entrance of the cantina on the space station, where the voices were coming from. with a wolfish grin, Baird nodded and stood up.
"Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum, If that's what it takes, It'll happen."
Instead of sitting around waiting for a drink, Baird rushed on out of the cantina, into his personal quarters, grabbing clothes, and weapons, storing them into a storage case. His first stop was to Marcus Ordo to pick up his armor, second stop was to meet with Tremaine again and hopefully get something to do. Baird wanted to follow the Resol'nare, but since he was the last of his clan there was only one thing to do, he needed to commission his allies into his clan, have them pass a test, if they weren't mandalorian by blood or name, killing a certain beast could have them become mandalorian by spirit.
After he was all packed up, Baird headed towards the docking bay, He didn't have his own ship for the moment but he figured he'd just borrow Hajo's and have it returned later, and so Commander Baird set off to the location set by Marcus Ordo, an old friend of his, and a decent armor tech.
Commander in the Grand Army of the Republic (Former)
Friend of the oppressed.
Liberator of the enthralled.
Damian Baird.
Message edited by Baird - Friday, 27 Jan 2012, 8:52 AM |
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