Blood Always has this odd Habit of smelling the same to me.

Its funny the little things one notices but then, I should think that the Galaxy is full of those little coincidences. When I was young they took me from my parents, I still remembers mothers face when I was taken her face streaked with tears. I wonder from time to time with the eyes I have closed if she still remembers the little boy with fondness. Would she recoil if she knew the sins I have committed in order to perfect my art ?...Do I or can I even care anymore ....

The Jedi said "You were special" or "You can have great potential" all lies made to make you feel safe and secure. I learned,I trained and I gave my all but no matter what I did it was never enough. I was never the strongest nor the fastest. I could not hold a sabre as well as others though I spent many nights trying to master these skills. The only thing I could seem to get right was understanding medicine and how bodies worked. But these were not needed skills.

When it came time to be go forward to be selected by a master I tried my best. My newly constructed blade in hand I gave it my all ...They passed me over like I was nothing ..like I was not worth the choosing. They wanted to send me to the Agricorps ..I was to be a farmer not a knight ...I left the temple my eyes streaked with tears and the rain. I took with me only the Sabre I had made as it was mine and one way or another it was meant to be with me.

I have been a bounty hunter and Assassin ever since, you would be amazed what happens when you use Daioxius Gas in small amounts in an air filtration system or what Zarovra Leaf finally crushed will do to your guests at a dinner party ..messy but then again I get paid. I am not a sith, I have no interest in their Dogma you understand. In Darkness there is power but that does not mean I wish to bow and scrap for their approval I did this once before and swore never again.

I learned my Craft in the Dark places of the Galaxy, Drugs and sorcery on Dathomir and Poisons from the Tapani sector. I walked with the Assassin of house Wrist and spoke in riddles to tribal shamans. All to create my own craft and one say the Galaxy will know my name ..One day the broken will be made whole

I am no ones slave anymore

To become a feared and respected figure in the galactic underground

Having undergone a number of Surgeries in order to change his identity from the pitiful Andoran Zdroll into the much more terrifying Mr Shard the figure now stands a little under six foot. Pale and gaunt skin with luminescent crimson eyes made to make him look as fearsome as possible stand out for all to see.