"The cub has punch and spirit. Tie him up. We'll drop him at Nar Shaddaa. I owe one pitmaster a favour." The bearded man in red-and-black armour laughed as he tossed a five-year-old away for restraining. The boy was kicking and screaming, splatters of the blood of his parents caking with dirt from the ground all over him...
The memory had never left him. The man he had come here for, the killer of his family, was right there, making case for Mandalorian unity and values. There was something both ironic and irritating in that combination. His argument with Shae and Corso returned to him. Shouldn't he leave the former life behind, and think about unity of the Mandalorian cause above all? Shouldn't he be on the other side now? After all, nothing Varo had said sat ill with him. Just who had said it.
But since he had committed to this path against much good judgement, he would not waver now. His every life aspiration was beyond the moment of standing over Varo's corpse. It could not be circumvented, this nexus of revenge or death.
He patted Sabine on the arm, not expecting the answer any more, then removed his helmet and stepped forth. His pale gaze was set.
"I am Oddyn Vizsla and I have a personal grievance to raise before the moot. Against you, Varo Kryze."