I’ve never been to the planet. I have heard most of the planet is uninhabitable by the nuclear-plasma weapons used to fight the many wars. Most individuals live in the desert in glass dome cities to manage the elements. The air is breathable, for now. Tiber Saxon wanted me to bomb Mandalore in high orbit again to make sure of any subversives were destroyed and all were loyal to the Empire. I told him I would not do it and I ordered him never to do it.
Then, when I was stuck with Bridger, I found armor in a locker on some abandoned outpost. I took it, repaired and painted it, myself.
Bridger told me I could never pass as a Mandalorian. He’s right.
Then, he said, Sabine would hate me for desecrating sacred Beskar’gam.
I told him that I learned about Mandalorian armor on Csilla and Copero in Chiss Ascendancy space. That the armor is forged by the blood of one’s warrior ancestors.
“My ancestors are warriors, Ezra. What were yours?”
Bridger skulked off.
