Blubbla respected the Jedi. For a time. They came and saved his cousin Ziro from that demon, Asajj Ventress. Blubba could remember it well, despite being a young hutt of only 68 at the time. It was then, when he saw the jedi in action, that he recognized their power. And he knew that he could do that too. He never had a good reason as to why he was always a little faster, a little stronger, and a little smoother than his relatives. But now he knew. He could tap the same power as those jedi. He wanted that power. No, he NEEDED that power. He knew the jedi would come back, and when they did, he would capture them and make sure they taught him. He told his family of his plans. They looked wearily at him for his declaration of this power, but as long as Blubba didn't seem too ambitious, they went along with his plan.

But that was now many years ago. While Blubba was off-planet, they did return. But they didn't save Ziro. Ziro was now dead. The jedi did nothing. Shoot, for all Blubba knew, the jedi murdered him themselves. As soon as he found out, he knew that he couldn't go back. With the power void from Ziro's death, there would certainly be lots of skepticism and murder to be had. And with jedi involved and Blubba's declared "power," he was certain to be at the top of the hit list. Problem is, Blubba knew nothing of this power or of fighting. He was still young, far too young to have received formal combat training or any sort of leadership role. So he set out to learn on his own.

Problem was, he could find nothing useful. Oh sure, he eventually found lots of Jedi. Dead. All pillaged and rittled with holes from blaster fire. He wanted one of their lightsabers. He had seen their power. But every single one of those beautiful light blades had been taken by those white soldiers. Eventually, he found one on Sriluur. Living. A real Jedi. Blubba watched from afar as the aqualish jedi fought off an entire battalion of white soldiers until there she was badly injured. She was protecting some cave. Blubba watched in abject horror as the last remaining soldier shot the injured Jedi in the hand, her lightsaber flying off a cliff! The jedi managed to take down the soldier with her bare hands and collapsed. By the time Blubba got there, she was barely breathing. She couldn't even speak. What worthless trash. She couldn't teach him anything. She couldn't even hang on to HIS rightful lightsaber until he could relieve her of it. Blubba silenced her for good. As he slid his girth to smother the aqualish face, he heard a cry from that cave. And there it was! A little child jedi was being protected by that older worthless one. This small mirialan thing had a lightsaber! She obviously couldn't teach him anything, though. She was so weak, it took hardly any effort at all to crush her windpipe with his bare hands. He let her fall to the earth when he saw the spirit drain from her cold, lifeless eyes. Something that weak had nothing to teach a strong Hutt like Blubba. The lightsaber was finally his!

His moment of triumph was cut short when he realized that this lightsaber was broken. It couldn't cut the rock. It couldn't slice the head off one of the soldiers. He even touched his own tail with it and felt only a mere shock. Clearly, this one was broken. No matter though. Blubba was exiled, had no family or friends and no teacher or training, but he was a warrior. He would find a way to fix his new lightsaber, learn to use his new power, and survive.

Fix this !@#$ broken saber. Get left alone. Get power. You mind your business, I'll mind mine.

Survival.

Mark of the Survivor Duty - CR1 - 10 Duty
Combat & Intelligence

The Bounty & Wetwork Guild - CR5 - 75 Duty

Morality: 14 (Dark Side User, -1 strain threshold/+1 wound threshold)
Bravery/Anger

Downtime Hours: 35

Height: 2.9 meters
Weight: 3,463 lbs
Muscular build with surprising strength and fluidity of movement... for a slug.
No hair
Orange eyes
Green/tan skin
Age: 88