Tavarius Kalia, Director of Spritzen Mineral Holdings.
|Born||Year -22 Day 123 (40)|
|Languages||Galactic Basic, others unknown|
|Affiliation||Sprizen Mineral Holdings|
|Title||Director of Operations|
|Positions||Director of Sprizen Mineral Holdings, Chief of Operations|
Born in deep depths of the crime filled Coruscant, to a whore of a Thyferran mother and to a father of an unprotected client of his mother’s 35 galactic years ago. Tavarius Kalia was forced to grow up surrounded by filth and scum, the people emulating the surroundings. Not being one to want to stay in the basement of a weapons store, listening to his mother sell her body repeatedly every night, Tavarius ventured out into the underbelly of Coruscant, and the obvious conversion happened to his legality status. Being quickly snapped up by one of the more powerful gang leaders, Dal Rin, targeting young children like Tavarius, in hope of a lifetime employee. He was made to steal, rape and kill all through his teen years, all for the benefit of the "family" as Dal put it across. As time passed, so did his mother, dying of a STD shortly after Tavarius' 17th birthday, he did not mourn over his mother, he felt nothing for her, she was merely another women he knew, she gave him nothing, even his name was given to him by Dal.
Tavarius began to grow arrogant from the power he gained from putting fear into the less then fortunate people of the depths of Coruscant, far stronger people them him for enduring it. After having a fairly heated discussion with Dal about how they should expand to bigger things, such as slave trading, Dal quickly had the over confident 20 year old removed from the gang. Rage welled in Kalia, he took it upon himself to follow the plans he generously shared with Dal, he left Coruscant on the first transport out of there, his time on this world, was done.
From the day Tavarius left Coruscant, his name was heard in worlds from all corners of the galaxy, many of the events from his life are unrecorded, even though some were noteworthy.
The strange squishy sound of mud being stepped in echoed throughout the valley as a black leather boot was submerged up to it's ankle in mud. Brown leather pants, clung tightly to the man that was adorned within them as rain heavily dripped down from the sky.
The deep rich fragrance of ozone permeated the air as cold eyes gazed out over the surroundings inspecting the landscape that was littered with wreckage. A scowl seemed to be painted upon the man's face who seemed to coldly gaze about.
Shifting awkwardly, this man scratched at the soaked wool shirt that clung tightly to his frame. A strange sense of discomfort seemed to emanate from his frame, one of loss.
Tavarius Kalia, was the man who stood before the wreckage. The man responsible for the carnage that was tossed about the landscape, the man who seemed to possess regret within his stature and frame about some unfathomable event.