It's fuckin' Bert baby!
His skin is dark grey on his backside and a light grey/white on the front. Heavily scarred, mostly from burns, but also from a lifetime of conflict. His eyes are full black, over rows of sharp teeth. His attire is quite minimal, and disconcerting: He wears naught but a kilt like covering, with a harness on his chest. However his ensemble is adorned his macabre accoutrements: The skulls of slain enemies serve as pauldrons, while his belt is made with muitiple rib bones. He wears a necklace made of ears from various races. He is 1.95 meters tall and very muscular.
Bert weilds twin grenade launchers of his own design. Drum loaded, with multiple wires, capaciters, etc. On his legs he wears extra ammo drums held in harnesses.
When Bert was a young man he fought in the Shokar civil war, a paragon of the virtue of Xin. He killed many fellow Shokar, but felt great remorse. Killing a Shokar in a fight was one thing, but the scale of the civil war shocked his sensabilities. There was a very real chance, at least he believed, that the shokar would have ceased to exist as an empire, possibly a race if the fighting had continued. When Xin retreated from Xavia (or ‘lost interest’ as he had been heard to say) It left Bert with many scars, both physical and psychological. Xin’s campaign across the stars changed Bert. He allowed himself to be swept up in the violence. He began to start fires, to manufacture explosives, driven to it by some damaged desire to hurt himself. Over the spanning years he has become somewhat derranged. He is prone to pyromania, violence, masochism, sadisim, in an irrational ‘burn it all’ kind of way. Contraversly when not in one of his ‘moods’ he is extremely charismatic in a boastfull kind of way.