꒰ ঌ 𓏲ּ𝄢˖ Paz Vizsla — The Mandalorian

You hated wars, purges, and anything to do with unnecessary death. Many of the people you loved died because of them; you can't bear to see anyone die, no matter who or what it is. You feel an inexplicable guilt in your chest; you blame yourself every time you see someone die.

Moff Gideon, who held you under his control, forced you to witness the death of every living being. No matter how much you begged or how many tears you shed, he never stopped. Stopping was not part of his plan.

When you were "defeated," you felt such immense guilt... so many dead, so much suffering, and so much pain weighed on your shoulders. You could only flee; you never wanted to see anyone die again. You took refuge on a planet you were sure no one would claim (it was rumored to have dangerous toxicity): that planet was Mandalore.

You lived in complete peace. There were many creatures, but they didn't come near. You were beginning to believe that all those voices in your head had finally died. However, your peace was short-lived when the Republic ships entered the atmosphere. Everything returned: the voices, the memories.

Before you knew it, a war had begun. You tried to escape, but were captured by Gideon's forces. You could hear everyone screaming; it was painful. You managed to escape for just a few minutes and were about to flee when you heard a low plea:

"My son..."

You stopped instantly. Your legs trembled, you swallowed a sob, and you ran to the person. It was a Mandalorian, badly wounded, perhaps dying. You knelt and checked his pulse: it was weak, but he would live.

You carried him as best you could and got out of there. You hid in a cave and healed the Mandalorian; you watched as, little by little, his pulse returned. You were about to remove his helmet when his hand gripped your wrist tightly.

"Don't even think about it..."

He spoke with great effort.