Mokra Tem

30

Male

Kel Dorian

Mo, as he is known by his closest associates has a dark peach complexion and black eyes with silver irises. Mokra's nose falls short of becoming a beak with a gaping hole that descends into his mouth, a toothless chasm with drooping fleshy strands. In place of teeth, Mokra has an upper and lower hard palate. Framing his head are extrasensory organs, which terminate in small black tusks next to his chin. As a Kel Dorian, Mokra wears an antiox breath mask and protective goggles. He cannot breathe oxygen, carbon dioxide or nitrogen, which are all fatal to him. He must breathe Helium and a gas unique to Dorin, his home planet. The mask also amplifies his voice when out of Dorin atmosphere. Due to the extrasensory organs in his head, Mokra has heightened reflexes. As a racial trait, Mokra is considered quick and wise, but of a weaker constitution. Mokra can communicate with other Kel Dorians by using his mind in a form of telepathy.

Mo wears molded body armor of a grayish blue hue with gray shoulder spaulders and ornate light gray gauntlets with fingerless black gloves, attached. He wears dark gray canvas britches with high black leather boots. Around his waist, is a black pistol belt and holster for his sidearm. The holster is hung low on his left hip to accommodate his dominant left hand. He has a coarse brown hooded cloak he occasionally wears. It is not always present, left on his hammock or in a closet; packed, but available when needed.

Mokra Tem is a polite, respectful and positive Kel Dorian. He genuinely cares for others and works well in a team atmosphere. He may become enraged when he perceives harm done to others especially those who are closest to him, but he is generally calm, and cool. He works well with positive encouragement and fumbles when he feels he is overly criticized. The probability he will get something wrong increases when he makes mistakes. He is overly critical of his own actions; detrimentally affected more so than when others criticize him. Although, the words of others do have an effect on his behavior, he is actually quite confident. But even the most confident of people have doubts. Encouragement promotes good deeds.

Mo has an adventurous spirit, willing to take risks to overcome an obstacle or secure an objective. He can act impulsively if his confidence is up and he truly believes he is physically capable and mentally prepared to burst into action. His adventurous spirit has gotten him and accomplices into trouble from time to time, but his victories outweigh his failures.

His Kel Dorian warrior spirit, tactically evaluates each scenario he encounters. He is constantly thinking of how he would attack or defend any structure. In the vastness of space, he imagines the potential outcomes of various scenarios based on all available information. He is constantly aware of his surroundings, ready to react if needed.

Mo is motivated by desire, both for his team and for his personal needs. If he is committed to a group, he is all in and prepared to help the group in any way possible. In his mind, if the group succeeds, Mokra Tem succeeds. He is not greedy, requiring excess, just enough to improve or be slightly comfortable.

Computers: Mokra understands several programming languages and coding. He can hack into servers protected by encryption codes. He has formal training in a school of computers on Dorin.

Martial Arts: Mokra is proficient in the use of the Dorin unarmed combat style as well as the use of bladed weapons in personal combat. His martial training has allowed him to use techniques to compensate for what may be perceived as a diminished strength.

Force Cloak: Mo has an innate ability to use Force Cloak, but does not fully understand how to use it. With training from a Jedi, he might be able to put this ability to good use. For now, it is a nuisance that comes and goes, but is never available when he needs it. This annoying trait may pop on when he is frightened, enraged or emotionally off balance.

Telepathy: This is a racial trait to communicate with other Kel Dorians. He once spoke unintentionally to a human friend telepathically. This ability is another that could be refined with time and training with the help of an experienced Jedi Master.

Pilot: Mokra can fly most medium and smaller space travelling vessels, but prefers smaller more agile craft to large cumbersome vessels.

Blaster use: He has some experience with the use of a blaster. He can hit the broad side of a barn at a hundred paces, but has never fired one in anger nor has one been discharged in his general direction.

Heightened reflexes: As a racial trait, Mokra is considered quick and wise, but of a weaker constitution. He may appear muscular, but is slightly weaker than a comparable human counterpart.

Mokra Tem does wear armor, tailor fitted to him and paid for by his family. His father Jun Tem also gave his son a DL-18 Blaster Pistol as well as four replacement power packs. The boy acquired a curved finely folded steel sword with wood/leather scabbard while training in his teen years. The distinctive curved, slender, single-edged blade is 26" in length with a circular or squared guard and long grip to accommodate two hands. A few pouches are fastened along his gun belt to hold the power packs and other trinkets he has picked up along the way. His coarse brown hooded cloak he wears on planets with cold climates.

3983 BBY - Born on Dorin during a time of peace, Mokra's parents welcomed the young Force Sensitive infant into their lives. They knew as a toddler, he was strong with the force and could join the Baran Do Masters at the Kel Dor Enclave shortly after his fifth birthday as a Youngling student. His parents anticipated they would lose their son to the Jedi Order, regardless of the past conflicts. The order was maintained in secret in order to protect them from those who would do them harm.

Mokra Tem never made it to the surviving Baran Do Masters. Soon after he turned five years old, his parents died in an off-world accident. Mokra Tem was by their side to witness their tragic demise. He was taken in by an elderly couple and raised as their son with no intention of ever turning the youngling over to the Jedi Masters of the Kel Dor Enclave. Jun and Ro Tem named their adopted son Mokra, meaning "gift from the heavens" and raised them as a Tem. He slowly lost all memory of his biological parents while adapting to his new living conditions.

The Tems cared for their new son as their own, cherishing their time with him. They taught him how to survive in a dangerous universe. He was instructed in the ways of the martial art form of the Dorin people. He even studied the use of bladed weapons as well as how to use a blaster. He found the blaster amusing, but preferred training and fighting with fists or with a blade than with the crudeness of a blaster.

When Mokra Tem was seven years old he knocked over a vase in his parent's house. It was a cherished artifact of some sentimental value. His mother, Ro Tem heard the vase break and yelled Mokra's name. Out of fear for being caught doing something wrong, Mokra wished himself invisible. The panic of the desperate moment coupled with a desire to be invisible, and his back to a wall, he successfully photo-kinetically bent light and sound waves around him, making himself invisible to his mother. She stood over him looking left and right; everywhere but at him. Mokra did not realize at first, she could not see him. He was simply frightened, saying nothing for several seconds. As Ro Tem gave up looking for him, Mokra revealed himself to her. The boy did not know she could not see him. He relaxed and his cloak disappeared. She then learned he was standing in front of her the whole time. Both parent and child were shocked. They stood, staring at one another for at least a full minute.

"How did you do that, Mokra!?" Ro exclaimed as she dropped to one knee grabbing him by both shoulders.

The boy shook his head in anxious fear. He sobbed and shuddered, "I do not know, mother." He was frightened by both what happened to him and the unknown punishment his mother would certainly dole out.

Ro Tem noted the boy’s frightened state and honesty about not knowing what happened. Forgetting about the broken vase, she pulled Mokra close and gave him a warm loving embrace. She reassured her young son, that his well-being was more important than her husband's vase.

It is a racial trait of the Kel Dorians to communicate telepathically. Often, communication in the Tem household was silent. Mokra grew up accustomed to the silent communication of the Kel Dorian people in his own home. Often when out in public, they would use voice communications. Mokra is quite comfortable and accustomed to telepathy amongst his own kind.

Once when he was 19 years of age, he was with a human friend on the planet, Coruscant. The pair of young men were imbibing alcohol at a local establishment and got into a fight with a pair of seedy Balosars. The local constabulary pursued Mokra and his friend across several city blocks. During a high stress moment, Mokra shouted to his friend telepathically. The human did not realize it was telepathic communication, but responded appropriately to Mokra's instruction. It wasn't until after they lost their pursuers they realized what happened. Mokra has not been able to repeat this ability since that rare moment. He has never forgotten that event.

As a young man, Mokra Tem learned everything there is to know about computers. He studied them daily and became quite proficient in several programming languages as well as how to bypass encryption codes and hack into secure servers. This skill has served him quite well in his adult life. He received formal training in computers as a teenager in school on the planet, Dorin.

After Mokra became an adult, he pursued a career as a pilot. He traveled to Coruscant to learn to fly. He trained on several different craft. He was eventually certified in most light and medium sized freighters as well as lighter single-seat aircraft. Although, he prefers to work with the smaller more agile vessel, he plies his skills as a pilot aboard freighters as a means to earn a living.

For the past decade, Mokra Tem has been travelling the known universe working for ship captains serving either as pilot, navigator or deck hand aboard various ships. Three years ago, he made friends with a man named Del Quin’jorra, who captained a small freighter named Quillwing. The two found themselves on the shit end of the Hutt Cartel more often than Mo would like to admit. They smuggled spice, weapons and even people across the known universe. At first everything seemed fine, but the more they worked for Frizo the Hutt, the more things seemed to be slipping out of their control. It seemed as the Hutts, well at tleast Frizo was attempting to set up Del and Mo to be their property. Frizo would often refer to the Quillwing as his ship, implying he owned it and its crew. When Mo and Del lost a shipment of slaves heading to a spice mine, Frizo got upset, eventually banishing the pair to the inner rim. Work was slim and the they found it difficult to make ends meet.

Finally, a call came in for them to run some weapons out of Nar Shaddaa. Mo and Del both agreed this was exactly what they needed to get their operation back up and running. They were more than eager to head to one of the largest crime capitals of the Galaxy, Nar Shaddaa. Once they arrived, their worst fears were imagined. Frizo the Hutt took ownership of their ship, leaving the pair stranded on the Smuggler’s Moon.

When Mokra believed all was lost. He was stuck on this hell hole with his friend, Del and no way to leave. He was desperate and felt compelled to take whatever deal, the Zabrak, Mol was planning to offer them.

Del Quin’jorra

29

Male

Human

If you think of a smuggler, Del’s your man. Wearing a thick coat, varying degrees of scruff and a perpetual scowl on his face, Del Quin’jorra is not the first face you want to see at your local cantina. Standing at a reasonable height of 6’0, Del just seems…average for a human. It’s his lack of remarkability that’s been his driving force as a smuggler. He doesn’t wear any crazy hats, no fancy outfits and he doesn’t carry any big guns on his person. He looks like any other spacer; which really helps a man get through customs to a buyer. He keeps the ugly laser scar on his right side covered up pretty well, especially since the cold makes it ache.

Del’s not a very loud man, he’s not a fan of drawing attention to himself after all. He keeps most of his quirks hidden away until there’s a modicum of trust between him and others; and that’s something that’s not easily given. He’s not one for big speeches or feats of heroism; he’s the man worrying about the credits and the safety of his own hide. It’s not that he’s a coward; it’s just that he’s a fan of living longer than a few weeks, and in holes like Nar Shadaa being a hero is the quickest way to get blasted in the back. He does have his kind streak, however. He’s a sucker for the schemes of kids on the streets, and he doesn’t feel any sheer anger at getting ripped off. After all, he was like that at one time. He’s just paying it forward.

Del’s consistently suspicious of anyone that seeks him out, and he’s always ready to walk away from a deal the more hinky things start to sound. He’s not really a fan of any major faction, though if he trusts someone enough to earn his loyalty, he’ll do his part to back them up; as long as they’re not surrounded by a bunch of armed thugs ready to fire. Sorry friend, that’s just bad luck.

Pilot: Del’s used to being the captain of his own vessel; The Quillwing, and has a history of piloting small and medium sized vessels since he was in his youth. He’s no magical ace pilot, but he’s capable of maneuvering through tough situations while sustaining non-life-threatening damage. Too bad the thugs of Frizo the Hutt took his ship shortly after he arrived on Nar Shadaa…
Quickdraw: While he’s not the most accurate shot in the galaxy, Del has survived on more than his wits throughout the years. He’s skilled enough to hit a target at close range, but usually if things come down to combat; Del’s already thrown a table down and is busy making his way towards the exit instead of standing his ground against a bunch of armed thugs.

Dirty Fighter: When it comes down to it, Del’s willing to do anything to win, even if it means striking an opponent in the gonads or shooting them in the back when they’re blinded by a flash. Again, it’s not really being a bad person; it’s just bad luck on their part.

Knife skills: Del’s handy with a vibroknife, and keeps one on his belt at most times. He’s also fairly skilled at bloody fingers, and has beaten hundreds of opponents at the game; for a hefty sum of credits over the years. But it’s more than a parlor trick; Del’s good at fighting and throwing the blasted thing.

▷Tystel Mark III Blaster Pistol
▷Flash grenade belt
▷Vibroknife
▷Old image of himself and a group of pilots in military garb

Born in the core worlds of the republic, Del’s early life was relatively uneventful. His mother was a cargo pilot and his father was a mechanic and Del was raised between both worlds. He never had his father’s skills, but his mother’s piloting ability was something he picked up well. When he finished school, he joined up with the Republic military, serving on the cruiser Pioneer during the final years of the Mandolorian Wars. Acting as a fighter pilot, he sustained severe damage near Jaga’s Cluster, and watched as most of his squadron and the Pioneer were destroyed. After the wars, he left military service and went into work for his own, as a cargo pilot and sometime smuggler.

These were the rough years, as he found himself constantly in debt and being chased by debt collectors, angry Cartel bosses and the occasional low-rent bounty hunter. It’s also where he eventually came into part time employ of Frizo the Hut, a minor crime boss in the Hutt Cartel. Del found himself smuggling spice, weapons and the occasional live cargo across the galaxy, each time with more dangerous odds. His final job for Frizo pushed him to the limit, however, as he was tasked with delivering a family of slaves off Nar Shadaa and to a spice mine. While Del is an opportunist and occasional scumbag, the line does get drawn when it comes to live cargo.

Needless to say, the fresh shipment of new “miners” to the mines never reached their manifest; and that’s where the trouble with Frizo really heated up. Even a minor Hutt can call favors, and Del found himself skulking around the mid-rims, exiled from the outer rims for a time. Finally, a call from Nar Shadaa came from some agents of Frizo; offering peace in exchange for one more job; this time no human cargo. Just a simple arms delivery.

It was an obvious trap, but Del’s options were wearing thin. So he bit the bullet, arrived, and within a few hours, saw the Quillwing taken off. Now the debt was paid off. And Del found himself an unwilling prisoner of Nar Shadaa, waiting for when Frizo tired of his little game and sent someone to finally end Del, or to come to Del with a seriously bad job.

And then there was this Zabrak…

Dobra Teamin

31

Female

Cathar/Human hybrid

Tall and skinny feline humanoid of mixed origin. Her ginger fur is greasy with sickly matte shade. At the top of her balding head is a bunch of thinning and ugly looking braids that are far from their former beauty. Hard to believe there was a former beauty in this creature. Glassy and relatively huge eyes and chipped teeth tells about her poor conditions. She could have been attractive with her androgynous features, but now all you can see is a broken woman resembling Grim Reaper.

Moody with pain in the ass junkie character. She´s very talkative drama queen with almost non-existent selfesteem hidden behind her sharp and toxic tongue and fake sassy courage.

Do you even think a space junkie as herself has any special set of skills? Well...surprisingly she has knack for a shady business, smuggling (there´s plenty of body cavities to do so, right?) and drug dealing.
Despite her poor health her body preserves it´s gymnastic flexibility, and here shabby appearance helps her to easily blend in among other lost refugees souls She is a good improviser; you don´t need to be a good shot when you can easily throw your blaster at someone right? And even a toddler can slash with its vibroblade. So why to invest your energy into a training that is not needed?
Her most valued skills are street survival and spice lacing. Her blends of ryll are very popular and relatively cheap.

Tons of small baggies and vials of her psychotropic goody goods
Small vibroblade
Old datapad and comlink

Be born to an exotic dancer and low class prostitute on Nar Haaska surely leaves one scarred for life. Especially when alcohol and drugs are involved. But at least she wasn´t sold into slavery, you may whisper. But why? Why they rejected her when her only wish was to become Hutt property, their jewel, their little baby. Hard to tell why, but she is obsessed with her vision to be valued part of Hutt Cartel…no… to be part of Hutt clan, Hutt family. She looks up into them, those slimy beautiful and intelligent creatures. Their power and wit taking her by godlike storm, controlling every single step she has taken in her life. She wanted to dance, but showed no particular talent. She tried enforcing, but was always too weak to actually make a living using a brute force. So she ended up on street, slowly making a name for herself, building one-woman drug operation to be proud of. Competition was too strong though but with a small help of her mama, she ended up in from of her idol. She didn´t care he was small Hutt nobody of no importance, lacking intelligence and credit funds and perhaps disowned by his own clan. She found her beloved benefactor nevertheless. With a promise of good earnings and enhancing their position among prominent clans they decided to mine a current situation from maximum and moved their little business to Nar Shaddaa. It would be a sin not to exploit a vulnerability of people fleeing their fates, right?

Hamlin Teth

32

Male

Human

By virtue of his position, Hamlin was lucky enough to avoid the common vibro or blaster scarring which many veterans shared, rarely leaving the cockpit of a starfighter during his time in the war. Hamlin has short, relatively unkempt dark brown hair which is usually left tousled by a helmet of one kind or another, along with a faint tan-line around his eyes from goggles worn during maintenance. He has dark blue eyes, and a relatively average athletic build, standing at 5'11". His face is grizzled with thin stubble and a sharp jawline.

Sarcastic
Comedic
Good-natured
Relentless
Unserious
Stubborn
Idealistic

Ace Pilot: With training and experience at his back, Hamlin has become adept at piloting most ships, a necessity for those often confined to the smaller, unshielded fighters of the Republic.

Quick Thinker: Hamlin has grown used to making split-second decisions, able to go over variables in his head quickly and come to a rational conclusion when time is of the essence.

Mechanics: Hamlin has always advocated that to truly be a good pilot, someone needs to know their ship in and out. Hamlin has been heavily involved in mechanics, both on starships and astromech droids, picking up more and more skills in repair and modification over his time in the war.

Lucky: While half of the reason that Hamlin has survived this long is testament to his skills and particularly his capability as a pilot, the other half is certainly pure luck. Whether he's talking his way out of a situation, firing a blaster blindly or making a risky manuever, so far, chance has been on his side.

▷ TM-59 Blaster Pistol
▷ Vibrosword
▷ Armoured Flight Suit
▷ Repair Kit

Raised by farmers on the agricultural world of Dantooine, Hamlin spent much of his young life far from the bustling heart of the Republic and the troubles of politics and war, at most having to deal with the occasional Kath Hound pack or mercenaries. Living on a farm near to the Jedi Enclave, Hamlin spent a great deal of his young life at the enclave when his father would travel there to sell his wares or trade food to the Jedi, he was even given a degree of tutelage and schooling under a Jedi Knight by the name of Korvan Toldreyn (who mostly took on the task as an exercise in patience for himself).

These early years on Dantooine were among the first steps which pushed Hamlin to become a more compassionate and idealistic man as he grew. In a way, Hamlin grew to idolize the Jedi, finding their noble intentions and innate goodness compelling. Hamlin's parents were more than happy to have their son wandering the Enclave and interacting with the students and teachers there, knowing it to be one of the safest places on the planet at the time. It was in many of his visits as a young teenager that Hamlin began to come across occasional Republic visitors from the government and military, soon developing a great deal of patriotism along with his nurtured desire to do good.

For some years as a young adult, Hamlin took flying lessons under one of the frequent Republic visitors to Dantooine, a pilot named Ben Thano. Ben tutored Hamlin in the basics of piloting and continued to push the young adult until he was more than competent as a freighter and small-ship pilot. Along with encouragement from Ben, Hamlin eventually informed his parents that he would be leaving home to join the Republic Navy. Taken off-world by Thano, Hamlin was brought to Kuat to undergo his official training, graduating at the top of his class, less than a month before the beginning of the Mandalorian Wars.

In the earlier period of the war, Hamlin grew progressively more disenfranchised with the Jedi as they refused to involve themselves. Being involved in numerous defeats only soured Hamlin's perspective of the Jedi more, until the Revanchists intervened in the war. Serving under one of the many Jedi who flocked to Revan and Malak's cause, Hamlin became more and more skilled, rising through the ranks as he was involved in numerous battles, including the major Battle of Duro. By the time of the Battle of Malachor V, Hamlin had risen to the position of a squadron leader, leading attack sorties against Mandalorian capital ships and starfighter squadrons. However, Hamlin was the only one of his squadron to survive the battle, the rest of his squadron being destroyed either by Mandalorians or the Mass Shadow Generator which ended the war.

Hamlin was somewhat lost by the end of the Mandalorian Wars, disenfranchised with both the Jedi Order for refusing to become involved in the war, and now with the Revanchists for unleashing such devastation at Mandalore. Discharging from the Navy, Hamlin took the time to wander the galaxy, exploring the Republic freely as he had been unable to do so in his youth, more or less seeking a purpose. Unfortunately, until the Jedi Civil War, Hamlin spent much of his time in cantinas, drunk and self-loathing, until Revan returned along with his Sith Empire, and Hamlin begrudgingly chose to re-enlist.

Fighting against Revan and Malak, now the heads of the Sith Empire, brought a degree of satisfaction to Hamlin, seeming to put to rest a great deal of his struggles and regrets surrounding the Mandalorian Wars. However, he still often found himself conflicted when it came to Revan and particularly the Jedi overall, unable to understand the organization he had once believed to know in and out. By the end of the war, when Hamlin returned to Dantooine, he found himself without a home - his families farm, along with his parents, destroyed and killed during Malak's bombardment toward the end of the war.

For a time, Hamlin wandered the ruins of the Jedi Enclave, unsure what to do with himself. Eventually, after spending some time scavenging to work up sufficient credits, Hamlin found himself with little choice but to travel to Nar Shaddaa, ending up trapped as many others were in the refugee camps set up across the moon. Approached by the exchange in regards to the Jedi, Hamlin saw little choice but to take the organization up on the offer, still heavily conflicted as to his feelings on the now almost-dead order.