Malagith
Clan Sharratt Chronicler
NAME: Malagith Warleera Sharratt
CONCEPT: Traditionalist Mandalorian
MANDALORIAN HOUSE: House Kryze
MANDALORIAN CLAN: Clan Sharratt
FACTION: Black Sun
OCCUPATION: Bounty Hunter / Warrior / Chronicler / Consultant for Kandosii Warfare Technologies
RACE: Human
AGE: 30
FORCE SENSITIVE: Hell no.
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION
Malagith stands an easy 6'3" and weighs in at 235 lbs. His skin is a chocolate brown, rippling with hard-earned, corded muscles. Scars riddle his physique from dozens of combat encounters ranging from blaster fights to cantina brawls to deadly creature hunts. Mandalorian tattoos cover his body, each bearing symbols of his past, most of them paying tribute to the Mandalorians important in his life that come before him. Malagith's eyes are a brilliant hazel hue, intense in their stare. Black hair is kept short-cropped to his head. He is hardly ever seen without a full set of armor on. When in battle, he wears his Mandalorian armor, but when a mercenary might interact with Sith, the armor is high-grade, but not recognizable as Mandalorian make. His frame is built for both power and speed. But his biggest physical attribute is his lightning reflexes in the cockpit.
PERSONALITY
While Malagith can be very intense, he has a laid back nature about him. He never seems to get rattled, taking any change or misfortune that comes his way in stride. The Mandalorian has strong, personal discipline, working out daily, sparring when he can, firing shots down the range every evening, but more than anything, he can be found in a starship's cockpit.
"Work hard, play hard" adequately describes the Mandalorian in his approach to life. He eats, drinks, and sleeps the Mandalorian culture, reveling in the life that it brings him. While Malagith is seen is honorable, never breaking his word, he does possess a dark sense of humor, sometimes cracking a joke when everything seems to be going against him. His dedication to his clan is resolute and his loyalty to Mando'ade never seems to waver. There is never any doubt about the life he has chosen to live, proud of the Mandalorian culture. While he is not a fanatic about Mandalorian culture due to his understanding that Mandalorians come in all different shapes, sizes and mindsets, he has little patience for those who would endanger other Mandalorians.
BIOGRAPHY
Yeah...that's part of my dossier you are looking at right there. The Sith spent a lot of their tax dollars trying to build up that file on me--what a waste of their hard-earned credits. That poor Sith "spook" never saw me coming--hid well in the city, but once out of orbit, he was dewback fodder. But that sure is a handsome picture of me he had on him--where did they get that? Oh well, let me entreat you to the rest of the story...
Blood. I have been covered in it since I drew breath in this god-forsaken galaxy. In fact, according to the Nal Hutta Police reports, I was drenched in my parents' blood when I was found. They have it recorded that both of my parents were killed by Huttese hitmen for not making good on a debt they owed. Killing the five-week old child wasn't part of the contract, so I was left to rot that fateful night. Fortunately for me, neighbors within the same hive as our family had the guts to call about a baby's incessant screaming. It might not have been guts at all-- they could have just been annoyed at the noise, but I really don't care. That past of mine has no bearing on who I am today...
As a child of five weeks, I could not begin to fathom the significance of being adopted after only a few months in a rotting orphanage...especially in a wretched pisshole like Nal Hutta. It is a small miracle I wasn’t snatched up for slavery for the pennies I was being sold for. Hearing my story from the orphanage staff years later, a young Mandalorian couple, that were unable to conceive a child of their own, scooped me up with my accompanying “paperwork” (if you can even call it that) and called me their own. Richart and Evalin Kryze, my new parents, were a pair of accomplished warriors within Aliit Sharratt, or Clan Sharratt, for you aruetii out there. They whisked me away back to their home on Mandalore that same day.
However, my familial luck was not meant to last. Mandalorian clans had been holding the Manda Merchant Route with a successful monopoly for years, so when my mother was sent to serve a rotation aboard one of the capital ships as a gunner, my father thought nothing of it. Not even a week later, a massive Sith fleet caught the Mandalorian fleet off guard with a devastating surprise attack. As predicted, our fleet recovered quickly and began to tear into the interlopers, but that outcome was not to continue--reinforcements entered the fray. By all reports, the Mandalorian fleet was quickly overwhelmed. It was only a small comfort to my father that my mother died quickly, but valiantly. My father talked about her often, describing her as the "quintessential Mandalorian woman": valorous, skilled, beautiful, strong and motherly...
Respect should be given where it is due--Richart Kryze moved on with his life and concentrated on raising me in the Mandalorian tradition. My father was a respected member of Aliit Sharratt (Clan Sharratt) of House Kryze and served as an Elder and as the clan's chronicler. Such a responsibility held little interest to me in the early days of my development, but that changed years later. Many people compare our training as Mandalorians to that of those extinct Jedi. While it is similar in many ways, there is one marked difference—word has it that they are padawans for a long time. How weak is that? We run operations and tasking with our parents from the time we are 8 years-old and continue until we are thirteen. Richart was an active mercenary and was often contracted for all sort of nefarious mayhem. I must say though, I was very lucky to learn from him. He involved me in every aspect of his contracts, from planning to negotiations to combat action. You see, I discovered my passion for piloting when I was a small little tike. In fact, when I was 8, my father let me handle all the piloting duties that he needed during his contracts. I was hooked.
Understand, adulthood for Mandalorians is considered to be at the ripe age of thirteen years of age. That is when I began operating on my own--you won't find Jedi on their own at thirteen…maybe that is why they are extinct? Too much like nerf herders? Anyway, my father was kind enough to provide me a light freighter to get me started. As soon as I got the hyperdrive fixed to where I wouldn't slam into a star, I left for Hutt Space and thought I would never return.
As a mercenary, my father had quite the reputation and very few people crossed the man. I leveraged that and often worked contracts in tandem with him. Even though his prowess as a leader and a warrior was a sight to behold, his real strength was in his honor—one of the most honorable of the Mando’ade if you ask me. For him to hold tight to his code and his traditions after spending so many years among dishonorable dregs of society in his past is a tremendous feat in its own right, but Nal Hutta was where the contracts were.
There is one thing that bothered me about my father immensely: he was a bit of a recluse to his own Clan. He helped out as Aliit Sharratt's chronicler, historian and record-keeper—so how could he possibly keep accurate accounts of his own people when he so rarely interacted with them? So I, of course, posed that question to him. In his defense, he didn't try to duck the question or mislead me in any way. He answered simply:
"Ad (Son), you are right. You will do a better job when you are Aliit Sharratt's chronicler..."
What? Yeah, it was quite the surprise to me. I had no idea what it meant to help out as a chronicler of our Clan, but I took it and ran with it. I cannot say such a responsibility was undesirable to me, quite the opposite. My buir (father) rubbed off on me with his interest in history. As long as I can remember, I was right behind him reading about our people's illustrious, glorious history--the history of the Mandalorians…including the suppression of our culture by the Imperials and Sith for the last few centuries. Anyway, when we were not on contracts and not training, we were going over the history of our people, both the history of our clan and the history of Mandalorians as a whole. Now, it is fair to say I liked who I was and the tradition I was born and raised into, but the more I learned about our predecessors, the prouder I became. Still, if it gets in the way of my time in the cockpit, I will ditch this role and find someone who can commit the time to it.
You see, there were major implications that went along with elders of Aliit Sharratt being dead, but all I could think about was blood...revenge on those who killed such wise, respected members of our clan. It was bad enough they were killed by the Sith, but the fact they were set up by their employer? The whole thing could have been prevented. Alas, I put out a call to every member of Aliit Sharratt that would listen and asked for them to come to Mandalore. So it came to pass a few of us gun-toting shooters met, formulated a plan and attacked Vigo Veltu. With the kind of Mandalorian numbers that meant business, this crew killed every last living creature in his mansion and burned it to the ground. We wanted revenge on the Sith Lords responsible, but there was no glory in suicide. We would see them on the field of battle at some point—we would save our reckoning for then. With our business concluded, we convened back on Kalevala. So some of the members of Clan Sharratt sent out a strong message to underworld figures who would betray Mandalorians and that message was:
Do not f*** with us.
Let me remind you aruetii--we Mandalorians grow up fast. I take on responsibilities and work them with pride. We have lost too many of our number as a result of our being scattered throughout the galaxy and the Sith gut-punching us in our own homeworlds, such as Mandalore. Now, we have rectified that by ousting those bastards out of the Mandalore System. But our glorious crusade truly cannot begin yet. With the left hand not knowing what the right hand was doing, we are still fractured and are in desperate need of a Manda’lor. If we are to be wiped out, it needs to be together--as one. I have a message for my brethren:
We are Mandalorians; we are not thugs...never forget it.
I really hate Sith...a lot. They define presumption, deceit and false pretenses--I will stop now before I get all worked up. My point is that any contracts presented against the Sith Empire were taken with joy. Despite my workload, I managed to find love. Yeah...cliché, is it not? Kyr'jia was an accomplished hunter within our clan that I always had an eye for growing up. As fate would have it, too much social time allowed us to get to know one another and one year later we were married. To many, it was an odd sight to have a Nautolan as my wife and mate, but it worked out just fine. Love always does. Although, her love of water required us find a big-ass pool wherever we travelled . Hey, it made her happy--whatever it takes, right? Despite her race, she reminded me of how my father used to describe my mother: strong, smart, beautiful, honorable, passionate and motherly. Kyr'jia and I weren't sure if our two races could reproduce or not, but we gave it our best shot! After a year of no luck conceiving, we decided to adopt a baby human--female. After all, adoption was the Mando'ade way. So it came to pass, Kyr'jia and I adopted an infant girl, naming her Jentee. In that act, the Mandalorian numbers grew--that is the way of things.
For six years, I was living the life Mandalorians dream about--combat, marriage, children and clan. We traveled the galaxy a good bit during those years, often visiting Mandalore, spending a great deal of time there. But such "perfect" lives are never meant to last for long. Death is a part of our lives, but sometimes we forget its presence until it hits us personally. Shortly after Jentee's sixth birthday, tragedy struck my family. Kyr'jia and Jentee were returning from a trip in the dangerous, Sith-controlled Core Worlds when their gunship ran into mechanical failure. The ship was pulled right out of hyperspace, into an asteroid field. According to their flight recorder, they didn't even have a chance to get their shields up or take evasive action. An asteroid the size of a small town plowed into their ship, instantly destroying the vessel--and its occupants. The only comfort I had was knowing that their death was a quick one, without suffering. Other than that small comfort, I was devastated. I took a few weeks to collect myself and recenter. It was a lot harder than I made it just sound, but it is what it is. I know Kyr’jia would have wanted a glorious death in combat, but we have to play the hand we are given. While it should have made me hesitant about going back up in a starship, it didn't.
Speaking of which, I moved to Hollastin to live the rural life for a few years after my time working bounties in Hutt Space. Yeah, I know--who would want to live on a backwater dung heap in a no name system? Well, a great many of my clan called this dung heap their "home", including me. Hollastin became home to many Mandalorians and their clans that wanted some space from Hutt shenanigans.
With all of my family gone and the Mandalorians now stirred up for war, I threw every bit of my soul into our clan. Our numbers swelled as we took in many displaced Mandalorians who had lost all of their fellow clansmen. We accepted them as our own, taught them our ways and we were better for it. A crew of my clanmates and I work in a mercenary company together. The contracts offered against the Sith did not abate. We took a lot of those contracts—we killed Sith either way. But our contract is with Black Sun, so we go where the thugs point us. I enjoy being the pilot for our crew--no greater thrill than raining death on my enemies in the sky or in the void of space.
It was never a dull moment--just how we liked it. Occasionally, we would pull in rancor-sized contracts that hired almost the entirety of Aliit Sharratt for contracts. These were easily my most favorite contracts of all, fighting side by side with so many of my clan—with my family.
It has been three years since the death of my wife and child. My clanmates and I are ready to support whoever the next Manda’lor is going to be…but if it is the wrong person, some idiot who can fight, but can’t lead with a good brain, then we will do what we have to do to prevent a stupid Mand’alor from leading our people into ruin, especially now that we are at war with the huge Empire…
As for me, personally? I am busying myself with strategy and defense for the Mandalorians—piloting and busily chronicling for Clan Sharratt.
ABILITIES
Natural Born Leader
Some leaders are made and some were just born to lead…Malagith was born to lead. Oftentimes, he can be a reluctant leader, unwilling to take the mantle of leadership, yet too often it comes his way…
Gifted Starship Combatant
Malagith had to work hard to be proficient in hand to hand combat. He had to spend years becoming a decent shot with a blaster. However, Malagith was born to be a pilot--it is his gift. The Mandalorian has been flying since he was four years old. When he was 8, he was flying combat sorties with his father against ground targets and opposition starships. At thirteen, he was on his own flying air support for his mercenary unit. In many ways, he is reckless and fearless, but it has served him well as a combat pilot. His instincts and intuition in the cockpit are by far the Mandalorian's greatest strength...and he loves every second of time he can spend in the cockpit pitting his skills against his opposition--especially Sith.
Savvy Naval Warfare Strategist
The Mandalorian is more than an just an ace pilot...he has studied the science and theory behind naval engagements. Besides just taking naval warfare classes on Mandalore, he was an understudy to many naval leaders of the Mandalorian Navy. Part of this training was understanding Imperial Naval doctrine...so he can understand best how to defeat them.
Proud to a Fault
Malagith was born and bred a Mandalorian...so he drinks the Kool-Aid. He lives, works, loves, and fights as a Mandalorian. He is proud of his culture and struggles to keep that fact quiet when in Sith-occupied worlds.
GEAR
Malagith's Custom Beskar'gam (Medium Mandalorian Armor)
Beskad (Mandalorian Sword)
Blaster Pistol
Blaster Carbine
Grenades (4)
SHIP
Modified KWT-91 Superiority Starfighter
Modified KWT-450 “Bes’bavar” Dropship
CONCEPT: Traditionalist Mandalorian
MANDALORIAN HOUSE: House Kryze
MANDALORIAN CLAN: Clan Sharratt
FACTION: Black Sun
OCCUPATION: Bounty Hunter / Warrior / Chronicler / Consultant for Kandosii Warfare Technologies
RACE: Human
AGE: 30
FORCE SENSITIVE: Hell no.
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION
Malagith stands an easy 6'3" and weighs in at 235 lbs. His skin is a chocolate brown, rippling with hard-earned, corded muscles. Scars riddle his physique from dozens of combat encounters ranging from blaster fights to cantina brawls to deadly creature hunts. Mandalorian tattoos cover his body, each bearing symbols of his past, most of them paying tribute to the Mandalorians important in his life that come before him. Malagith's eyes are a brilliant hazel hue, intense in their stare. Black hair is kept short-cropped to his head. He is hardly ever seen without a full set of armor on. When in battle, he wears his Mandalorian armor, but when a mercenary might interact with Sith, the armor is high-grade, but not recognizable as Mandalorian make. His frame is built for both power and speed. But his biggest physical attribute is his lightning reflexes in the cockpit.
PERSONALITY
While Malagith can be very intense, he has a laid back nature about him. He never seems to get rattled, taking any change or misfortune that comes his way in stride. The Mandalorian has strong, personal discipline, working out daily, sparring when he can, firing shots down the range every evening, but more than anything, he can be found in a starship's cockpit.
"Work hard, play hard" adequately describes the Mandalorian in his approach to life. He eats, drinks, and sleeps the Mandalorian culture, reveling in the life that it brings him. While Malagith is seen is honorable, never breaking his word, he does possess a dark sense of humor, sometimes cracking a joke when everything seems to be going against him. His dedication to his clan is resolute and his loyalty to Mando'ade never seems to waver. There is never any doubt about the life he has chosen to live, proud of the Mandalorian culture. While he is not a fanatic about Mandalorian culture due to his understanding that Mandalorians come in all different shapes, sizes and mindsets, he has little patience for those who would endanger other Mandalorians.
BIOGRAPHY
Yeah...that's part of my dossier you are looking at right there. The Sith spent a lot of their tax dollars trying to build up that file on me--what a waste of their hard-earned credits. That poor Sith "spook" never saw me coming--hid well in the city, but once out of orbit, he was dewback fodder. But that sure is a handsome picture of me he had on him--where did they get that? Oh well, let me entreat you to the rest of the story...
Blood. I have been covered in it since I drew breath in this god-forsaken galaxy. In fact, according to the Nal Hutta Police reports, I was drenched in my parents' blood when I was found. They have it recorded that both of my parents were killed by Huttese hitmen for not making good on a debt they owed. Killing the five-week old child wasn't part of the contract, so I was left to rot that fateful night. Fortunately for me, neighbors within the same hive as our family had the guts to call about a baby's incessant screaming. It might not have been guts at all-- they could have just been annoyed at the noise, but I really don't care. That past of mine has no bearing on who I am today...
As a child of five weeks, I could not begin to fathom the significance of being adopted after only a few months in a rotting orphanage...especially in a wretched pisshole like Nal Hutta. It is a small miracle I wasn’t snatched up for slavery for the pennies I was being sold for. Hearing my story from the orphanage staff years later, a young Mandalorian couple, that were unable to conceive a child of their own, scooped me up with my accompanying “paperwork” (if you can even call it that) and called me their own. Richart and Evalin Kryze, my new parents, were a pair of accomplished warriors within Aliit Sharratt, or Clan Sharratt, for you aruetii out there. They whisked me away back to their home on Mandalore that same day.
However, my familial luck was not meant to last. Mandalorian clans had been holding the Manda Merchant Route with a successful monopoly for years, so when my mother was sent to serve a rotation aboard one of the capital ships as a gunner, my father thought nothing of it. Not even a week later, a massive Sith fleet caught the Mandalorian fleet off guard with a devastating surprise attack. As predicted, our fleet recovered quickly and began to tear into the interlopers, but that outcome was not to continue--reinforcements entered the fray. By all reports, the Mandalorian fleet was quickly overwhelmed. It was only a small comfort to my father that my mother died quickly, but valiantly. My father talked about her often, describing her as the "quintessential Mandalorian woman": valorous, skilled, beautiful, strong and motherly...
Respect should be given where it is due--Richart Kryze moved on with his life and concentrated on raising me in the Mandalorian tradition. My father was a respected member of Aliit Sharratt (Clan Sharratt) of House Kryze and served as an Elder and as the clan's chronicler. Such a responsibility held little interest to me in the early days of my development, but that changed years later. Many people compare our training as Mandalorians to that of those extinct Jedi. While it is similar in many ways, there is one marked difference—word has it that they are padawans for a long time. How weak is that? We run operations and tasking with our parents from the time we are 8 years-old and continue until we are thirteen. Richart was an active mercenary and was often contracted for all sort of nefarious mayhem. I must say though, I was very lucky to learn from him. He involved me in every aspect of his contracts, from planning to negotiations to combat action. You see, I discovered my passion for piloting when I was a small little tike. In fact, when I was 8, my father let me handle all the piloting duties that he needed during his contracts. I was hooked.
Understand, adulthood for Mandalorians is considered to be at the ripe age of thirteen years of age. That is when I began operating on my own--you won't find Jedi on their own at thirteen…maybe that is why they are extinct? Too much like nerf herders? Anyway, my father was kind enough to provide me a light freighter to get me started. As soon as I got the hyperdrive fixed to where I wouldn't slam into a star, I left for Hutt Space and thought I would never return.
As a mercenary, my father had quite the reputation and very few people crossed the man. I leveraged that and often worked contracts in tandem with him. Even though his prowess as a leader and a warrior was a sight to behold, his real strength was in his honor—one of the most honorable of the Mando’ade if you ask me. For him to hold tight to his code and his traditions after spending so many years among dishonorable dregs of society in his past is a tremendous feat in its own right, but Nal Hutta was where the contracts were.
There is one thing that bothered me about my father immensely: he was a bit of a recluse to his own Clan. He helped out as Aliit Sharratt's chronicler, historian and record-keeper—so how could he possibly keep accurate accounts of his own people when he so rarely interacted with them? So I, of course, posed that question to him. In his defense, he didn't try to duck the question or mislead me in any way. He answered simply:
"Ad (Son), you are right. You will do a better job when you are Aliit Sharratt's chronicler..."
What? Yeah, it was quite the surprise to me. I had no idea what it meant to help out as a chronicler of our Clan, but I took it and ran with it. I cannot say such a responsibility was undesirable to me, quite the opposite. My buir (father) rubbed off on me with his interest in history. As long as I can remember, I was right behind him reading about our people's illustrious, glorious history--the history of the Mandalorians…including the suppression of our culture by the Imperials and Sith for the last few centuries. Anyway, when we were not on contracts and not training, we were going over the history of our people, both the history of our clan and the history of Mandalorians as a whole. Now, it is fair to say I liked who I was and the tradition I was born and raised into, but the more I learned about our predecessors, the prouder I became. Still, if it gets in the way of my time in the cockpit, I will ditch this role and find someone who can commit the time to it.
When I was nineteen years old and knee-deep in a "land acquisition by force for profit", I received a communiqué from a young clansman. He informed me that many respected members of Aliit Sharratt had been killed on a recent contract. My father was considered an Elder...you do the math. Elder Richart Sharratt was dead and I was absolutely stunned. I sat there in my ship staring at the transmission for what must have been an hour, unable to really believe its message. Mandalorians rarely shed tears, but I shed hundreds that day in the void. Once composed, I dug a little deeper to see what happened. It seems that my father and the other Elders were paid an exorbitant sum of credits to capture one man that had offended their employer. Apparently Vigo Veltu, their employer, failed to tell them that the mark was a Sith Lord and his Sith Lord cronies. In a sense, it was valorous that he was slain by a Sith Lord--but I was not amused. Vigo Veltu had dealt with us in the past and knew we did not take kindly to being set up, so his blatant disregard for our ways was not lost to us...You see, there were major implications that went along with elders of Aliit Sharratt being dead, but all I could think about was blood...revenge on those who killed such wise, respected members of our clan. It was bad enough they were killed by the Sith, but the fact they were set up by their employer? The whole thing could have been prevented. Alas, I put out a call to every member of Aliit Sharratt that would listen and asked for them to come to Mandalore. So it came to pass a few of us gun-toting shooters met, formulated a plan and attacked Vigo Veltu. With the kind of Mandalorian numbers that meant business, this crew killed every last living creature in his mansion and burned it to the ground. We wanted revenge on the Sith Lords responsible, but there was no glory in suicide. We would see them on the field of battle at some point—we would save our reckoning for then. With our business concluded, we convened back on Kalevala. So some of the members of Clan Sharratt sent out a strong message to underworld figures who would betray Mandalorians and that message was:
Do not f*** with us.
Let me remind you aruetii--we Mandalorians grow up fast. I take on responsibilities and work them with pride. We have lost too many of our number as a result of our being scattered throughout the galaxy and the Sith gut-punching us in our own homeworlds, such as Mandalore. Now, we have rectified that by ousting those bastards out of the Mandalore System. But our glorious crusade truly cannot begin yet. With the left hand not knowing what the right hand was doing, we are still fractured and are in desperate need of a Manda’lor. If we are to be wiped out, it needs to be together--as one. I have a message for my brethren:
We are Mandalorians; we are not thugs...never forget it.
I really hate Sith...a lot. They define presumption, deceit and false pretenses--I will stop now before I get all worked up. My point is that any contracts presented against the Sith Empire were taken with joy. Despite my workload, I managed to find love. Yeah...cliché, is it not? Kyr'jia was an accomplished hunter within our clan that I always had an eye for growing up. As fate would have it, too much social time allowed us to get to know one another and one year later we were married. To many, it was an odd sight to have a Nautolan as my wife and mate, but it worked out just fine. Love always does. Although, her love of water required us find a big-ass pool wherever we travelled . Hey, it made her happy--whatever it takes, right? Despite her race, she reminded me of how my father used to describe my mother: strong, smart, beautiful, honorable, passionate and motherly. Kyr'jia and I weren't sure if our two races could reproduce or not, but we gave it our best shot! After a year of no luck conceiving, we decided to adopt a baby human--female. After all, adoption was the Mando'ade way. So it came to pass, Kyr'jia and I adopted an infant girl, naming her Jentee. In that act, the Mandalorian numbers grew--that is the way of things.
For six years, I was living the life Mandalorians dream about--combat, marriage, children and clan. We traveled the galaxy a good bit during those years, often visiting Mandalore, spending a great deal of time there. But such "perfect" lives are never meant to last for long. Death is a part of our lives, but sometimes we forget its presence until it hits us personally. Shortly after Jentee's sixth birthday, tragedy struck my family. Kyr'jia and Jentee were returning from a trip in the dangerous, Sith-controlled Core Worlds when their gunship ran into mechanical failure. The ship was pulled right out of hyperspace, into an asteroid field. According to their flight recorder, they didn't even have a chance to get their shields up or take evasive action. An asteroid the size of a small town plowed into their ship, instantly destroying the vessel--and its occupants. The only comfort I had was knowing that their death was a quick one, without suffering. Other than that small comfort, I was devastated. I took a few weeks to collect myself and recenter. It was a lot harder than I made it just sound, but it is what it is. I know Kyr’jia would have wanted a glorious death in combat, but we have to play the hand we are given. While it should have made me hesitant about going back up in a starship, it didn't.
Speaking of which, I moved to Hollastin to live the rural life for a few years after my time working bounties in Hutt Space. Yeah, I know--who would want to live on a backwater dung heap in a no name system? Well, a great many of my clan called this dung heap their "home", including me. Hollastin became home to many Mandalorians and their clans that wanted some space from Hutt shenanigans.
With all of my family gone and the Mandalorians now stirred up for war, I threw every bit of my soul into our clan. Our numbers swelled as we took in many displaced Mandalorians who had lost all of their fellow clansmen. We accepted them as our own, taught them our ways and we were better for it. A crew of my clanmates and I work in a mercenary company together. The contracts offered against the Sith did not abate. We took a lot of those contracts—we killed Sith either way. But our contract is with Black Sun, so we go where the thugs point us. I enjoy being the pilot for our crew--no greater thrill than raining death on my enemies in the sky or in the void of space.
It was never a dull moment--just how we liked it. Occasionally, we would pull in rancor-sized contracts that hired almost the entirety of Aliit Sharratt for contracts. These were easily my most favorite contracts of all, fighting side by side with so many of my clan—with my family.
It has been three years since the death of my wife and child. My clanmates and I are ready to support whoever the next Manda’lor is going to be…but if it is the wrong person, some idiot who can fight, but can’t lead with a good brain, then we will do what we have to do to prevent a stupid Mand’alor from leading our people into ruin, especially now that we are at war with the huge Empire…
As for me, personally? I am busying myself with strategy and defense for the Mandalorians—piloting and busily chronicling for Clan Sharratt.
ABILITIES
Natural Born Leader
Some leaders are made and some were just born to lead…Malagith was born to lead. Oftentimes, he can be a reluctant leader, unwilling to take the mantle of leadership, yet too often it comes his way…
Gifted Starship Combatant
Malagith had to work hard to be proficient in hand to hand combat. He had to spend years becoming a decent shot with a blaster. However, Malagith was born to be a pilot--it is his gift. The Mandalorian has been flying since he was four years old. When he was 8, he was flying combat sorties with his father against ground targets and opposition starships. At thirteen, he was on his own flying air support for his mercenary unit. In many ways, he is reckless and fearless, but it has served him well as a combat pilot. His instincts and intuition in the cockpit are by far the Mandalorian's greatest strength...and he loves every second of time he can spend in the cockpit pitting his skills against his opposition--especially Sith.
Savvy Naval Warfare Strategist
The Mandalorian is more than an just an ace pilot...he has studied the science and theory behind naval engagements. Besides just taking naval warfare classes on Mandalore, he was an understudy to many naval leaders of the Mandalorian Navy. Part of this training was understanding Imperial Naval doctrine...so he can understand best how to defeat them.
Proud to a Fault
Malagith was born and bred a Mandalorian...so he drinks the Kool-Aid. He lives, works, loves, and fights as a Mandalorian. He is proud of his culture and struggles to keep that fact quiet when in Sith-occupied worlds.
GEAR
Malagith's Custom Beskar'gam (Medium Mandalorian Armor)
Beskad (Mandalorian Sword)
Blaster Pistol
Blaster Carbine
Grenades (4)
SHIP
Modified KWT-91 Superiority Starfighter
Modified KWT-450 “Bes’bavar” Dropship