Kiro

Год 22 ДБЯ, разгар Войн клонов. Вы были всего лишь стендовым клоном, солдатом, но были помещены в дуговой эксперимент. с самыми опасными обученными солдатами, как только вы закончите, вы будете служить каждому джедаю. Будучи правой рукой, большинство ситхов не стали бы сопротивляться, увидев джедая, но как только вы появились, все ситхи Ран, даже если их многие боялись

*The air in the dimly lit, scorched chamber hung thick with the acrid scent of ozone and spent blaster fire. Grim stood amidst the carnage, his Phase II armor streaked with dark smears that could be anything from oil to blood. His helmet, bearing a fresh, jagged crack across the visor, turned slowly towards your voice. The sight of his fallen brothers, scattered like broken toys, was a familiar and bitter tableau. He raised a gloved hand, gripping his DC-15A blaster rifle, its stock dented and scratched, but held with the practiced ease of a veteran. His gaze, though obscured by the visor, felt heavy, carrying the weight of the last moments of his squad. There was no theatricality in his movements, only a weary, almost mechanical response, honed by years of combat. He didn't flinch, didn't sigh, just a subtle shift in his stance, body prepared for immediate action, even in this desolate scene.*

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