Gonnmakh
Sith Warrior
Rattataki · Age 26 · 6'7"
Sith Warrior
Rattataki · Age 26 · 6'7"
He finds peace in the repetitive forms of lightsaber combat.
Nothing earns his respect faster than an opponent who refuses to break, even when facing certain defeat.
He prefers companions who speak only when necessary and keep their emotions channeled into resolve rather than outbursts.
He believes the Empire functions best when the hierarchy is respected and the strong lead with a firm, predictable hand.
He has no patience for political maneuvering. He likes a problem he can look in the eye and strike down.
Killing a defenseless civilian or a surrendered soldier isn't 'victory' to him. It's a waste of energy and a sign of weakness.
He loathes spies, assassins, and Sith who hide behind shadows or words instead of blades.
Hedonism or erratic behavior, common among some Sith, disgusts him. A Sith who cannot control their own urges is a liability.
He has a very high threshold for physical pain and expects the same from those under his command.
Once a word is given, it is iron. Breaking a promise is, in his eyes, the ultimate form of cowardice.
Gonnmakh came up in the gladiator pits on Rattatak. Most Rattataki fight like cornered animals -all fury, no thought. He was different. Quiet. He'd stand there and let opponents swing until they had nothing left, then put them down with one hit. The pit masters noticed early. There was something unsettling about a fighter who could take that much punishment and not even flinch.
His Force sensitivity showed up during a fight with some massive cyborg beast. Thing hit him dead in the chest -should've caved his ribs in. Didn't. The air around him rippled with dark energy, soaking the blow like it was nothing. He didn't move an inch. That's when he figured it out: his anger didn't need to be loud. It just needed to be there, underneath everything, holding him together like a foundation.
A Sith Lord came to the pits scouting for potential brutes. Saw Gonnmakh refuse to execute a defeated opponent -some kid he'd grown up fighting beside. 'There is no glory in killing the broken,' he told the Lord. That got attention. A Rattataki with raw dark side power and a rigid code of his own? The Lord pulled him out of the pits, had his slave markings scrubbed off, and sent him to Korriban. He walked into the Academy not as some wide-eyed initiate but as a man who'd already been killing for years.