I'm not a droid, and I'm most certainly not a clone. I'm not a Sith or Jedi. I'm not some crazed ideologue, corrupt politician, or wealthy corporate businessman. I'm not a Neimoidian, Geonosian, or a Muun.
But here are some things that I am. I am human, and I was born on Chandrilla, but raised on Serenno. I lived in a lot of places of throughout my life. I've been to Coruscant, and I've been the furthest places from there. I am not as strong as I used to be, but I'm still pretty handy with a blaster, a rocket tube, and I'm decent at the controls of a starship. And if I was asked if there was a single word that described me, it be simply this, Confederate.
Not "Separatist" that the people on the core worlds like to say, and most certainly not traitor as the Empire likes to call me. I have the "Blue Hexagon" tattooed on me, and I'm not having it taken off.
I'm not crazy, and I'm not broken.
I fought with the droids, and just about every species that ever walked, against the "one faced army" of the Republic on the solid rock of ground, to the cold depths of space. And even after they slaughtered every leader, hero, and champion of the great CIS, I and many others still held up the banner.
They can call me mad for my support of Dooku's message, even after his death. They can call me a monster for the amount of beings that are no longer breathing.
But I'm not someone you've ever heard, nor am I anyone worth hearing about. I'm not a great hero of the victors, I'm not a skilled mercenary who happened to be on the right side of history, and I'm definitely not someone who they'll mention in a documentary on the Holo-Net.
In spite of all that, I fought the Grand Army of the Republic from the first days, all the way to the moment the droids all stopped marching, and kept fighting even when the Empire said the war was over.
I'm just a man who wants people to know what his purpose was for living.
I am Varrin Torrik, and I am a Confederate.