You are dead. In almost every sense of the word. Corporeally, you died in the early days of the BEFORAN EMPIRE'S interstellar expansion. But your pusher died long, long before that. You were once a DASHING RADICULL TERRORIST fighting the good fight against stifling tyranny with your beloved. Now, you are just a husk. In your heyday you were considered one of the most FREE-SPIRITED REBELS Beforus had ever known, and you were famous for your aloofness and cocky attitude. They just couldn't catch you, nor your partner and love of your life. Until they did get her, and nothing was the same ever again. After a BOTCHED RESCUE, all hope was lost, and you dedicated every waking moment for the rest of your life to building power from the shadows, hoping to bring one last great devastation upon the Empire, even if it killed you. It did. And you didn't even accomplish anything, besides a whole lot of dead civilians. You are called THE SILLENCE, a reminder of the only thing to be heard in the wake of that terrible bomb. Your legacy forgotten in time, succeeded only by your nameless ward. Now, you rot in the ashes of your regret.
I don't really see myself as a rebel. Sorry. I don't think that's true.