“But why do you make me run and carry things?” he asked. “It hurts.” “So that you can handle anything life throws at you, son. So that you never have to be afraid of anyone again. I’m going to make a soldier of you.” Falin liked the idea of being a soldier. He had a vague but long list of beings he wanted to kill for hurting his parents, and you could do things like that if you were a soldier. “Why?” “It’s a noble profession. You’re tough and smart, and you’ll be a great soldier. It’s what Mandalorians do.” “Why didn’t you kill me? You kill everyone else.” Munin chewed thoughtfully for a
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