Born into Clan Skirata, the son of an Arc trooper clone and an Arkanian Rebel, Rua grew up in one of the more unconventional and smaller Mandalorian clans. Rua grew up, partially raised by Tallisebeth Esterhazy who instilled in him the virtue of persistence in the face of insurmountable odds and the value of holding fast to your own dream. Though what dreams lay in Rua’s mind might as well have been a mystery to the wider Galaxy (if anyone truly cared). Growing up he was quiet, soft spoken but there was always an edge of fire in his tone and he was nicknamed “jitters” by the other children for his propensity to fidget in place while he waited his turn during live fire exercises or in training. Less out of fear and more akin to the eagerness a trained racing beast or hunting hound might experience when being held at the gate by his master’s chain before being allowed to dart off. He excelled in knife fighting and blade work and was counted among the best of his generation. Farm work bored him but he developed a healthy appreciation for animal husbandry and breeding that would become somewhat of a hobby of his later in life and the insights he gained from his youth spent on Clan Skirata’s farms eventually led him to take his Darwinist approach to life, what it means to be a Mandalorian and the Galaxy at large. Around age seventeen, he began to feel restless and felt the call to a life beyond the confines of his world. At first, he contemplated joining the Imperial army or the Storm Trooper corps, but even the mighty five hundred and first seemed almost too ordinary for him. He’d been trained and bred, raised for something more and his own views on how the Galaxy should be brokered no substitution for the experience he would need later in life. Rua sought work where he could get it, as a bounty hunter, enforcer, life in the wider galaxy wasn’t as glamorous as he’d thought. Once or twice he did off the book missions for Garm Bel Iblis, Saw Guerrera and a few other more radical elements of the alliance to restore the Republic. Eventually he ended up as a bounty Hunter for Durga the Obese, the orange colored immense Hutt Vigo of the black sun. Rua earned a great deal of wealth accepting bounty’s that were incredibly high risk and doing wet work that Moff’s wanted outsourced. Wealth enough that he eventually bought a small shipping firm both to launder his more illegitimate earnings and begin to establish himself as independently wealthy. Rua had a taste for the finer things, he also had grander plans than to just be a mere bounty hunter. Plans which required him to have the right kind of connections, the right kind of reputation and more importantly the right kind of victories to his name. Rua spent several years expanding his own wealth and becoming known somewhat as a fop who hunted bounties for sport. In time he even gained invite to Imperial sector parties where he mingled with everyone from Ardus Kaine to Grand Admirals Thrawn and Grant to a rising star whose murder of his own mother earned him the title War Lord. While Imperial intelligence could never prove he’d worked for the Rebels (and occasionally still supplied them with intelligence for currency or the debt of favors), while his reputation as the antithesis of what his clan was known for during the clone wars led many to dismiss him as a potential traitor, doors still remained closed to him. Durga and the black sun provided him with much knowledge and had been a great stepping stone but Zsinj had become the closest thing he had to a benefactor and in time the two developed a friendship or at least as close as a pair of ultra-ambitious killers could have. Serving as an assassin for Zsinj Rua tracked down two Dathomirian Nightsisters who’d managed to escape the blockade. Though the Warlord had neglected to inform him one of them was a powerful Shaman. Never the less, Rua became the first Mandalorian in a thousand years to kill a force users. This victory resulted in Zsinj presenting him with twin daggers made of Song steel with Arkanian Dragon fangs for grips. The defeat of two force users also won him (at least in his mind) the right to use Mandalorian armor, true Mandalorian armor. Esterhazy taught him well, she’d shared with him the knowledge of Jedi combat and he credited her fighting styles fused with what he’d learned as a youth with saving his life. For years he’d kept her secret and still has too this day but the skills acquired must have given the impression that he at least had some prior contact with force users for he was soon sent on a mission by Durga to assassinate or retrieve if possible a criminal the Empire considered to be among the most dangerous. He’d been given a partner too, something that while not unheard of had been rare. The red headed woman felt off and on noticing her attire and lightsaber he cursed himself. The two spent the next month tracking down a Jedi Knight who survived the purge, a decorated veteran of the clone wars and someone believed to be roughly a century old and Rua had barely survived a pair of starving Nightsisters. The mission nearly killed him; his Songsteel blades were able to keep him in a fight with a lightsaber combatant due to being immune to the blades cutting powers but a swift thrust into his thigh and a kick to his chest had taken him out of the melee. The only consolation he’d had was that the red headed Dark sider was being beaten like a drunken Toydarian who’d just insulted a Wookie’s honor and as she struggled to keep her blade from being overwhelmed Rua snuck up on the duelists and stabbed him in the back, then a quick flick of the other knife and he’d opened the man’s throat. The Red Head was furious, and she struck at him with her lightsaber and while he managed to avoid being decapitated, she took his left eye and left him with a streak like scar. Rua eventually had the eye replaced with a sleek looking blue gem that concealed a miniature sensor suite that allowed him to see in various parts of the EM and infrared spectrums as well as remote control drones, which are usually just tiny things carrying thermo detonators (he likes to flush out prey rather than kill from a distance). The payout for the victory was a fortune but Rua got the message, whoever hired him through Durga wanted him dead. Rua bought a moon orbiting a gas giant in the Quelii Oversector and built himself an underground palace there, one with its own forests and gardens and lakes. He began funding the construction of mining facilities in the gas giant’s rings as well as the gas giant itself and made an immense profit (of which he gave 60% to Zsinj almost twice what the Warlord asked in under the table tribute, but hey, allies like that were rare). Such wealth allowed him to buy his way into the Black sun’s hierarchy and his ability to move between worlds made him indispensable to the Imperial warlord which meant Zsinj warned him that whoever was wanted him dead was likely going to try again. This time, the contract came from an imperial inquisitor himself to hunt down this Rebel pilot turned self-professed Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker. Rua had absolutely no interest in killing another Jedi, the last one was too close for comfort and he still viewed the Jedi Knight who taught him and partly raised him as family. Fortunately for him the Emperor was hurled down a reactor shaft and the Death Star exploded, taking the Emperor, Darth Vader and a pair of Grand Admirals with it. Apparently, the disaster was pervasive enough the Dark Jedi who was gunning for him died as well, or at least in the chaos of a galaxy spanning governments near collapse he wasn’t important enough to put any effort into (not that he’d complain). As the dust settled and warlordism set in, Rua found his shipping and hauling companies serving as courier services through the new powers and demand for his gas and minerals was higher than ever and so he spent the first few months after the battle of Endor becoming stupendously wealthy and building himself a reputation as a go between for all the different sides (all the while quietly stocking piling weapons and buying old clone wars era warships), it wasn’t a year in that Zsinj contacted him again. The Warlord turned high Admiral and Moff turned, Warlord, turned founder of his own mini empire was looking to consolidate power in his domain as a resident of the Oversector Zsinj felt Rua had a duty to help establish his new financial center. Rua was hesitant, he had other goals after all and Zsinj once again surprised him when the Warlord asked him what the purpose of becoming Mandalore was if you lacked a stable and powerful base of operations. How did “Mandalore the Imperious” sound? Zsinj’s offer was simple serve him for a decade as his master of assassins, his chief spy and his personal head hunter and Zsinj would bankroll his attempt to unite the clans so long as the war he envisioned himself leading brought all the profits and trade through Zsinj’s own empire and so long as he didn’t mind sharing the glory. Two heads in Galactic conquest were better than one and it was a lot safer restoring his culture to its glory days with an Executor Class SSD at his back than fifty-year-old rust buckets. And even if Zsinj died or was overrun before he was able to fulfill his promise, well Rua figures he’ll be one of the wealthiest men in the galaxy at that point and paying off the ruins of the Warlord’s empire (and looting its coffers) to enlist in his goal is certainly doable. Win, win figures the Jackal.

It’s said a storm raged across the skies the night Miryia of House Janus was born. She was one of three triplets who came into the Galaxy that day, but while her siblings cried, she remained oddly silent and many took it as a sign. Of course, when you’re a member of house Janus everything is a sign, the family had been one of the co-founders of the Republic at the dawn of its history and no less than ninety of them had been Supreme Chancellors and seventeen were Grand Masters of the old Jedi order. She’d been born to be great, genetically engineered for it (literally due to Arkanian society) and it came as no surprise when she tested positive for force sensitivity. Two of her great uncles had been Jedi Knights, her father’s youngest brother was a venerated member of the Jedi service corps and her maternal great uncle was killed fighting Mandalorian pirates as a Padawan. From the time she could form her first words she was trained in the family palace, by one of her great uncles learning to move objects with her mind before she could walk and then learning to channel the force to run, dance and play. When she was taken before the Jedi high Council around age four, she didn’t weep, nor did she mourn the parting from her parents for she felt as though she belonged, as though the room was hers. The Jedi council could have been forgiven for not seeing the touch of ambition in her eyes or perhaps they noticed but dismissed it as mere breeding that could be channeled or suppressed. Around age nine she was assigned a master, a gruff Dreathos who was nearly five hundred years old. Master Croo spent two centuries wandering the unknown regions and seldom returned to the temple of Coruscant or any of the minor Jedi temples throughout the Galaxy. While Jedi of the Janus line traditionally stayed close to the inner rim, it was hoped that by putting her out of her comfort zone she would better serve the order. For seven years Croo and Miryia wandered the galaxy, she learning from him and he harnessing her considerable power in the service of the Light. On Tatooine she distinguished herself when she bested the strongest warriors in a band of Tusken Raiders and brought them to the peace table. In the Lokondo system they liberated slaves and sent several youngsters to the Jedi temple for review and possible training. At age seventeen she passed the trials and became a Jedi Knight yet remained with Croo for several more years, feeling that while she had long ago surpassed him in power, he still held much to teach him though he disagreed with her assessment he allowed her to travel with him having grown fond of his “little aristocrat”. The final lesson Miryia would ever learn from Croo was the bitterness of grief, for not a year after her ascent to Knighthood, her beloved teacher was slain by dark side practitioners. Something broke in Miryia, or perhaps something that had always been broken was simply turned loose for she reacted less to the death of her dear friend and more to the failure of the Jedi Order to properly eradicate all the leftovers from the destruction of the Sith. Miryia butchered them all, save for a single infant which she abandoned on the doorstep of one of the many, smaller Jedi temples that existed at that time. Returning to Coruscant to report the death of Croo and to finally mourn her friend, but also to warn the council that groups of force users had scavenged leavings of the Sith and begun to dabble in the twisted arts of the dark side. The council thanked her for the knowledge and then wasted a year debating what should be done on the matter, something that irritated Miryia who believed the solution was simple, kill them all. Over the next five years the youth became one of the louder voices for a more proactive involvement by the Jedi Order in the affairs of the Galaxy, particularly concerning the dark side which she believed was on the rise again. Finally, at her wits end and tired of deliberation the Jedi Knight requested permission to venture out into the galaxy, to follow the will of the force and to do its bidding wherever she could. The council, shocked that a member of her family would want to mingle with the commoners agreed but cautioned her to stay away from dark side cults lest her indignation become a need for vengeance. Miryia agreed, she kept her word for ten years but eventually she felt the call and soon found herself battling not amateurs dabbling in darkness but remnants of the Sith! The young Jedi found herself outmatched, though she killed several their masters began to drive her to limits and in the darkness of battle she felt a call of a different sort, a sickly, cold power that she was both repulsed and intrigued by and calling on that power pulled the life force out of one of her attackers, infusing her cells with life and vitality and the onrush of power that allowed her to slay the remaining Sith in that particular clan. When the battle was at last concluded, she gazed upon the ruins of a sort of citadel that had belonged to them and in the dark, the temptation to learn from the dark was too strong and she briefly succumbed. Miryia spent the next five years studying the Sith lore, practicing their techniques, indulging in their sorcery and alchemy which she found she had a disturbing aptitude for. While fascinated, while learning much it was her next brush with the Darkside that left her utterly disgusted by Sith philosophy and brought her back to the light. She witnessed a Sith lord, ailing and frail drain the life force out of his own daughter to restore himself, the action both rejuvenating him and filling him with a feral arrogance that caused him to delve deeper into the darkside, to call upon more and more of the energies wracking his body. Miryia was horrified, the Sith had reminded her of those desperate drug addicts who’d sell their own babies for spice or deathsticks and the fact that she’d stooped so low disgusted her even more. Her pride offended, she stormed the Sith’s place of power and slew them all then calling upon the light, she felt something new. The old familiar burn of the light, the warm welcoming heat intermingled with a slight breeze and she realized the darkside remained at her beck and call. Deciding to risk death she attempted to channel both aspects of the force and in doing so unleashed a blast of silver light that blew the Sith in half. She raised their compound and destroyed their tomes and tombs and walked into the night. The experience had given her much to think on, but she also didn’t like the idea of using the dark side, even if in conjunction with the Light, not yet. So, she abandoned her experiments for a time and spent fifty years out in the wider galaxy before returning to Coruscant, this time as an accomplished Jedi Knight and one whose deeds had become folklore. Though she neglected to inform the council of her dabbling in the darkside, she told them of her brushes with the Sith. They weren’t entirely surprised and figured some clans had survived out in the wilderness of the unknown regions and outerrim. While she accepted their acknowledgment with stoicism, internally she was disgusted at their lack of will. Had they known, they should have declared a crusade and exterminated them. Later that year she was elevated to the rank of Jedi master and given a seat on the high council, where her more proactive stance and her drive made her popular among the younger Jedi. Among them was an Umbarian Padawan named Phanius, whose charisma and power were enormous and seemed to rival her own even at such a young age. She took a keen interest in his life and around this time fell in love with and married a young Knight from the Sunrider family. While the Jedi Order had begun to frown on marriage a century prior to her birth, it wasn’t yet outright criminalized and her marriage to the Sunrider youth was controversial but accepted and met with some praise. Phanius attended with his master and it was said he remarked that it was a pleasant dream. Perhaps if Miryia knew what those words would signify later, she would have killed him then and there while she still possessed the power to do so. She would give her husband two sets of twins and a lone daughter all of whom would mourn the death of her husband some twenty years later. Of her children only the daughter possessed any force power (The others would go on to be Senators, governors and prefects) and Phanius would end up being her master when he finally attained the rank of Knight. When Phanius became a Jedi Master it was Miryia who performed the ceremony and presented him with his Aurodium sealed lightsaber. Later, when he left the Jedi order it was she who realized he was likely going out into the dark and she followed him, seeking to stop her old friend before things went too far, only to see him die (or so she believed). Several years later Darth Ruin, the insane solipsistic Sith Lord would unite the Sith clans and declare war on the Republic. Miryia battled both him and his flowers, striking the hardest of any Jedi even going so far as to base delta zero a planet that had allied with the sith. Even after Ruins death, she relentlessly pursued the Sith but the Jedi council grew less and less proactive and Miryia became convinced only strong, resolute order would protect the galaxy from unbridled darkness. To that end, she committed her greatest atrocity, she lured the more reluctant voices on the Jedi high Council to Malastare and there slew them (harming herself in the process), framing the Sith and ensuring that the order would be galvanized to fight on. When the Republic Senate waivered, it was Miryia who proposed the Jedi takeover the Republic and govern in place of the Grand Chancellor, it was Miryia who first adopted the title “Lord” in battle against the Sith and it was this relentless arrogance and vicious streak that led her to believe that the war might have been beneficial, that dragging it on for as long as possible might save the Galaxy if both sides could fight to mutual extinction and a newer, healthier, more dynamic and assertive order could fill the void. The darkside was strong in her, as was the light and she viewed both as raw materials in the hand of an artist or smith, or as sophisticated and risky tools. Perhaps, she would have implemented this plan had her personal starship not been hurled through hyperspace in the aftermath of a battle, its drive fried, Miryia was forced to limp home at near lightspeed in normal space. She estimated that it would take a century in real space (Though at those speeds only five years would pass from her perspective)to get back to a Republic outpost (or Sith), where she could requisition a working vessel or commandeer one and return to a war she could only hope was still raging. To prevent herself from starving Miryia used the force to seal herself in suspended animation and sealed herself in a stasis pod. Unbeknownst to her, the sublight engine system was also damaged and she was left adrift for nearly two thousand years. Rescued by an Imperial Star Destroyer working for the Remnant they brought her back Orinda where she was taken out of Stasis. It took several days but eventually the utter state of flux of the force assaulted her senses and rocketed her to awareness. Awaking disoriented and bewildered she slew an Imperial doctor and nearly killed another before a terrified Storm Trooper talked her down. After returning to her senses the weight of just how long she’d been asleep hit her and it would have emotionally overwhelmed a lesser force user. With the situation explained, with the knowledge that she was a “guest” of this council of Moffs and Sate Pestage (whoever he was) and asked solely to be given as many unaltered historical documents as possible. Miryia spent the next two months locked in study, catching up on two thousand years of history and the ultimate fate of the Jedi and Sith. Initially given imperial propaganda she slew the fool dumb enough to insult her intelligence by feeding her obvious lies and finally was given full access to what remained of the Sith Lore Palpatine had horded and what was left of the unaltered documents. At first she was proud and then enraged, while the war had indeed carried on for a thousand years the Jedi emerged not only triumphant but consecrated by the war and had begun to ossify, she could see it, the stagnation apparent and the Sith? To her disgust and amusement, the deranged drug addicts passed from the hands of one deluded maniac to the next until a fallen Jedi Master named Skere kaan blew them all up on some random planet. The lone survivor going to ground, skulking in the shadows and altering Sith culture into this heretical “rule of two” that ensured winged Dragons learned to slither like snakes, well they had at least changed, even if their evolution was degeneration and devolution. To her the solution had been simple, abandon the treachery and fight for unity, embrace other aspects of the force and fight united in spirit yet they saw none of that. This Palpatine came off like a hot-rodding imbecile and Yoda seemed to her like a disgrace to everything a Jedi Master should be and reminded her too much of those rigid, over deliberating simpletons. House Janus had survived the ages, even if they had lost much of their power and influence in the Imperial era and the waning years of the Republic. This Luke Skywalker Palpatine fawned over like a stalker and his monstrous father both disgusted and intrigued her, at once she could tell both were little more then golems created by the force to exact vengeance on them (She had read up on this Darth Plagieus and his nimrod assault on the force and surmised what Palpatine was too afraid to put to words about the Skywalker line), on the other they represented a blank slate. The disorder and discord of the Galaxy disgusted her, but she liked the notion of the New Order, even if it was a perversion of itself with a bunch of unstable mongrel scum. Still, Zsinj was no fool, the organized crime syndicates wouldn’t do and she had no use for the Pentastar alignment for as long as Jerec endured, she had no interest in sharing power with an inferior, one who would was tainted by heresy. No, this “Imperial remnant” would have to do and she was content to play the part of a servant for now, but she would bring it to heel one day, she would purge the weak and unite the strong, she would bring the feuding factions together uniting them as Ashla and Bogan had once been united by the Bendu of old. She would become empress and guide this galaxy on a proper path and any order of force users that stood in her way would be ruinated.

At least, that was the promise she made herself when Sate Pestage foolishly crowned her as “The Empire’s Herald” and charged her with “Founding a new order of force users, an Imperial one, in the service of the New Order”.

She looks like this, except she has no arms and is always wearing a plain white blindfold over her eyes.

Name: Shoma Jidith.
Age: 21.
Race: Miraluka.
Bio: The universe had cursed the female Miraluka known as Shoma Jidith since birth. It was for great surprise of her parents and the medic on standby responsible for the birth that the baby was born without arms, with the cause for it still largely unknown. And the torment that would move on to pursue her entire existance started: She was starting to get somewhat neglected by her parents in favor of her siblings who actually had arms. From there, her options about what to do with her life were pretty narrow. In a desperate attempt to find a purpose in life, she signed up at the age of 7 for circus performance training. There was potential in there for Shoma, after all, a person with a lack of superior members performing was quite an attraction, even if most of spectators only went in for a laugh.

She was quickly labeled as a 'circus freak' by her peers and fans, a title she had zero pride in holding. The feeling she was destined for something much greater than spending precious years of her youth submitting herself to be judged and laughed at by others. So she had to scheme herself into progression. With time, as she grew older, she managed to gain some influence over the circus' decisions. Until one fateful day, she was set to perform for the sake of entertaining some Imperial Troops for a few days. However, while she and her circus fellows were stationed there, the barracks of the Imperials were raided by the Alliance.

During the raid, Shoma was caught after surrendering peacefully. She was eventually taken into questioning, where she told her interrogators about her circus job, lack of real ties with the Imperials and some details of her daily life. During the interrogation, a well-known Jedi eventually noticed she was force sensitive and had a lot of potential to become a powerful Jedi. It was there that they decided to send Shoma to the Jedi Temple in Coruscant for her to start her training in the ways of the force. Even if her training ended up starting very late when compared to the others.

Faction: Imperial Remnant. Shoma sensed something that drew her into a mysterious castle in Coruscant. Was it fate or destiny blatantly showing her the way? A certain presence she was determined to pursue? A flawed gut feeling? She cannot tell for sure. But she was certainly drawn into it, and it was a matter of time before it took the best of her.

Physical Description: Shoma is a young, humanoid-looking woman in her early twenties. She stands at 170 centimeters (5'5) tall and weighing roughly 79 kilograms (174 lb). Her skin tone is pale, with only barely noticeable wrinkles and imperfections, indicating the woman has most definitely spent some time taking care of her skin. Shoma's body format heavily leans into an athletic body build mixed with extremely well built legs and abs, in a paradox inducing mix: One can wonder how can a person's body look so rough and sculptural, yet with a special touch that makes it seem like it was made of a fine porcelain. She has a long, smooth, lite gray colored hair that ends roughly halfway into the back of her thighs.

There are two instantly noticeable, and perhaps most remarkable traits Shoma possesses: The first of them is her total blindness and failure to share the same visual outputs of the world as most other races do. It is the one trait that easily labels her as a specimen of the Miraluka race. Always wearing some sort of completely plain eyewear over where her eyes are supposed to be, most often plain-white bandages, Shoma relies entirely on her force sense abilities to perceive the world, environiment and people around her.

The second instantly noticeable trait, and the most proeminent one that could easily pick her out of a crowd, is her complete lack of superior members. Shoma was born with no hands, no forearms, no biceps and triceps. She has a pair of short stumps for shoulders instead, an adaptation of her bone structure to be able to support the collar and clavicule bones. The extremely rare circumstances that caused her to be born without arms are still unknown.

Personality: Calm, courageous, curious, open-minded, reserved with her emotions, and most notably very determined to pursue her personal goals. Those traits define what Shoma is made of in her interior. Throughout the entire life, Shoma was looked down at by all of her peers due to her severe birth defect, and everywhere she went, people tried to stick it into her head that she would never really amount to anything. A mixture of uneasiness and frustration built it'self inside the girl's mind, only becoming stronger and more compelling each time she took in some of her environiment's negativity. But she could only take so much.

Still waters run deep, or so they say. Shoma is a very good definition of such saying. As beneath her calm and mildly stoic behavior, very few can tell just how hot the burning flame of her passion, strong will, perseverance and motivation burns. Infused with an erratic and active mind and soul, Shoma is constantly out there, seeking and studying new ways of improving herself physically, mentally and spiritually. This makes her open-minded to many ideologies and arguments different from her own. This woman thinks she has something to prove to all of those around her, and that thought is what motivates almost every single step she takes.

Equipment: At almost all times, Shoma carries with herself a total of four knives and a small shock baton concealed within her robes. Nothing else really noteworthy in the equipment department for now.

Abilities:

Force sense starter pack: Force sight, force smell, force listening.

Telekinesis: Basic force skill, meant to move objects with a mental command and the power of the Force alone. It plays a crucial role in Shoma's battle strategy and daily activities that would require hands to perform.