Wrong Place, Wrong Time.
Was sold as a mere baby to pay off debt, to being rescued from slavery of Pirates by a contacted team. Years of servitude ended when the Pirates ship was ambushed and crew gunned down by a team of Mercenary's, they took him in out of pity, gave him the resources to train, better himself, earn his keep and then run him with the crew. Over the years he ran with them, killing, kidnapping, protection, racketeering and any other job offered for the proper fee, He's seen his old saviours pass on one by one in his years, brothers, fathers, comrades and teachers either it be battle, age or rotten old chance. Only he lived on while they died, death was ever present but not accepting of him. Dealing with years on the job you learn how to deal with all that you see/do, some drink, abuse drugs or drown it in debauchery. He learned to turn it off, for the worst. Some called him a Sociopath and they were right, completely Amoral devoid of caring for those other than himself and tolerance for those who pay for his services. Always loyal to the bidder for his services but never sticking his neck out for them when it got too hot, you don't make it this long in the job without knowing when to call it in and leave. Broken mentally, checked out emotionally and ageing to where job isn't as easy as it use to be you want to sleep the last sleep of you'll take but cant. Not yet, still have a debt to pay back to those who saved you oh so long ago. Each of their deaths adding to your self imposed debt, accepting death but not giving into it without a fight like they taught you too. It's always "one last job, just one more." it isn't, it never is, but maybe this one well be . A job offer from some Captain, pays good, doesn't matter the job time to work. Time to kill. Time to give my all. One. Last. Job.

"Our Service, Eternal. Our Sacrifice, Infinite. Our Regrets, Absent."
- 501st Commandos

Debt.