Post by Kirgal Skirata on Jan 13, 2011 0:02:48 GMT -5
Faction: Mandalorian Military
Department: Army
Rank: Sergeant
Name: Kirgal Skirata
Race: ZeHethbra
Age: 25
Height: 6'7"
Weight: 220 lbs.
Birth place: ZeHeth
Appearance: Kirgal bears the rough, burly appearance of those born near the southern pole of ZeHeth. His fur is a mottled combination of dark blue and white, which complements his cold personality. A life of military training has made his body heavily muscled and somewhat bulky.
Personality: Due to his semi-xenophobic nature, he does not trust those that do not belong to his race or do not follow Mandalorian conduct. Even then he has a short temper like all ZeHethbra, which would boil over if certain insults were ever exchanged.
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 6
Intelligence: 4
Speed: 4
Leadership: 5
Unarmed: 6
Melee Weapons: 4
Ranged Weapons: 7
Alignment: -1
Bio:
Kirgal was born to a hunting clan near the southern pole of ZeHeth. His early years were filled with constant lessons on how to use the traditional spear alongside hunting skills, instead of the unconventional blaster. His father saw honor in utilizing true strength and dexterity over complex technology. This he wanted to pass on to Kirgal despite him not being wholly interested in it. To Kirgal, the use of such weaponry simply wasn't hands on or even destructive enough to catch his eye. His later years claimed to be uneventful, filled with simple chores and routines that revolved around aiding his mother, until the time came to prove himself.
When he reached the age of thirteen, he went on a small game hunt to show his clan that he was an able hunter, armed with only a spear and few rations. Though fish were plenty, Kirgal decided on tracking land creatures despite their scarcity in the southern regions. Deep in the snowy tundra, he came upon large animal tracks leading far from his village. Taking the opportunity to make himself look more than capable, he took up the trail, intent on making the creature his first kill. It took him several days to find his game, but it made its presence known during a frigid day in the middle of the forest.
What he hunted happened to be a predatory creature with many horns, no doubt looking for food, but not realizing prey had moved to warmer climes. Taking advantage of the beast's confusion, Kirgal threw his spear into its hide, and faced it with nothing but his hands. Placing himself in front of a tree, he waited until the beast charged and closed in on him before evading, allowing it to collide with the tree. As it lay disoriented from the collision and lack of food, Kirgal hopped on its back and delivered several powerful blows to the back of its neck, eventually breaking it. As proof of a successful hunt, he took the strongest horn off its head and a piece of the hide, even some meat to be cooked on the way back. As it took him days to arrive where he was, it would be the same returning to his village.
Upon arrival in his village, Kirgal was greeted with much praise and even more after showing his trophies. Others thought it valiant of him to go after something so dangerous, but his parents were mindful of the looming presence of fatal injury pulling such actions. They commended him for his bravery, but not after a stern scorning for his incompetence.
Later hunts were done by the shoreline not far away. They bored Kirgal to the point he wanted to leave his home for the urban areas of his planet. Yet, it seemed he would not be alone on thinking such things. Bad times slowly wrapped themselves around Kirgal's village, and was first noticed through a lack of prey in the surrounding area. As the years passed, it only got worse, and starvation became a rampant thing. Feeling they had no other choice, Kirgal's parents decided on leaving not just the village, but the planet behind. It seemed to them to be the best choice, not wanting to face their unorthodox brothers in the more advanced regions of ZeHeth. Taking a gondola to a nearby city, they sold most of their possessions for supplies and to purchase tickets to a place they hoped would be honorable. A place far away: Mandalore.
The family had heard stories of the Mandalorians and their ways. Though they lived with technology, it was something that needed to be accepted if they wanted to survive. Yet, they had tradition and honored family; something the ZeHethbra looked on as admirable. When they landed on Mandalore, they sought acceptance into the society, hoping one of the many clans would provide for them, and in return receive their undying loyalty to Mand'alor.
Fate had lead them to the Skirata clan, to whom they pledged service and an eternal oath to serve Mand'alor whenever they were needed. The family was provided a small farm, where they toiled at endlessly in order to live up to their pledge. Kirgal took this to heart, and thought about becoming more than just a mere hunter. At sixteen, he decided to join the Mandalorian Military, wanting to not just explore other worlds but grasp advanced technology of destructive capabilities.
Basic training followed immediately after Kirgal signed up for the Army. It was something he was unused to, but after a week he became familiar with the drills and managed to make friends within his training unit. They made him feel accepted compared to the others who were merely interested in where he came from. The two were also from the Skirata clan; Brig and Jaks being their names. Both were Human and had an interest in befriending the ZeHethbra. Kirgal wouldn't refuse, since he left everything behind on ZeHeth and found it grand to learn about others. The three managed to be grouped in nearly every training session, and seemed to be the most cooperative of their unit.
When the time came for training with live weaponry, Kirgal was ecstatic. Though his father shunned such things as blasters, he found them amazing in their capabilities of dealing death at range. At the shooting ranges, he was known for his deadly accuracy; even during the little leisure time they received, he spent it cleaning his blaster rifle to make sure it was always in top condition. He slowly became detached from his friends, paying little attention to their conversations and most of it on his weapon. Fractured as their friendship may have been, they still maintained it.
Soon war games took place, which further fed Kirgal's almost war-like nature. Though he didn't mind guard duty during the games, he mostly enjoyed being on the offensive or patrolling. He would help put together plans of attack, or scout in order to find some weakness. Nevertheless, his unit always felt confident in victory so long as Kirgal was at their side. During battle, he had a certain aura about him that made others feel morally positive.
After graduation from training, assignments to other worlds began. Kirgal's friend Brig was assigned a scouting position on Concord Dawn, while he and Jaks managed to be designated a patrol unit on far off Dxun. The nine weeks of training had readied Kirgal for his mission, and though he had not seen any real action, felt confident on meeting the task head on.
Transport to the jungle moon did not take too long for all the impatient passengers aboard, including Kirgal. All the other recruits seemed to feel half excited and half scared, something he didn't share. He felt more interested in what he got to shoot and explore than being mindful of what horrible disease he could catch there. Their ship managed to get to the moon safely, and landed not too long after that.
As soon as the smell of wet jungle reached Kirgal's nose, he found himself off the transport shuttle. The Mandalorian outpost he landed at was less than he expected. It had a gloomy atmosphere about it, and felt abandoned despite the Mandalorians already stationed there. Taking up the packing bag he had brought along, Kirgal and Jaks made their way to the personnel quarters that had the required space for them. They settled in quickly and met with their assigned unit: the five man patrol squad known locally as Dar. After introductions were made, the patrol began their rounds in the dark, infested jungle that lay around them.
Their routine was the simple task of keeping the area surrounding the outpost safe. It truly would be simple if not for the near-constant rain making their path muddy and hard to walk through, or the many beasts that had wandered in by chance. The Dar squad had their hands full nearly every day, but Kirgal could not complain. He knew that there had to be worse positions, such as night patrols. Kirgal had heard stories of previous squads that patrolled the jungle in the night had gone missing without a trace. The more seasoned soldiers spoke of the Drexl that inhabited the planet, and how they could carry a man off in an instant. It made the ZeHethbra uncomfortable at the least, but wondered how well he would fare against such beasts. Yet, in the four long years he would be there, he would never see one.
As two years passed at hyperspeed, Kirgal began to treat Dxun like home. The musty air was a welcoming scent in the early morning, and the rain no longer bothered him. Dar squad had taught him how to stay above the foot-eating mud, which he used to his advantage. Every day seemed to be exactly the same as the previous: make the round, then start pest control. But a change became apparent during one day of patrolling.
Kirgal had spotted something moving in the deep underbrush. His keen hearing picked up the heavy steps the thing made as it walked. The others including Jaks had no idea what it could be except possibly one of the many Boma beasts that lurked in the jungle dark. Feeling his younger hunting days return to him, Kirgal decided to stalk the creature, curious as to what it may be. The sluggish steps he followed with his ears had a steady pace to them, but that soon stopped. Both the beast and hunter halted in unison, but the latter began sneaking toward the former, intent on getting it within his blaster's sights.
The creature may have heard Kirgal creeping up on it, but was too late to react. Aiming a high powered shot at the beasts head, the ZeHethbra fired and watched the animal cry in pain seconds before death took it. Aware that some things had bursts of life when they should be slain, Kirgal approached the corpse cautiously. His squad mates on the other hand burst on to the scene and fixated themselves on Kirgal's prey.
They congratulated him on his precision, noting the great hole burnt through its head, but cheered for him when they realized the beast had been a Zakkeg. Kirgal had no knowledge of such a thing existing, and they enlightened him on what an accomplishment it was to slay one. As proof of his deed, he took a horn from atop its head as a trophy to show his Mandalorian brothers at the outpost.
Kirgal's horn trophy earned him a reputation in the outpost, and a spot on the expeditionary force, which he eagerly joined. Instead of the same routes every day, he now enjoyed the freedom of roaming the jungle, finding new places to set up temporary posts from which they could operate. The five man team began their assignment only a day after Kirgal joined, and made their goal a supposed clearing a thousand meters away from the main outpost.
Their trek was long and arduous, filled with perils Kirgal could only imagine. On two occasions did the team run into packs of Maalraas that seemed on the verge of attack, and dealt with them accordingly. The others were used to such events, but made Kirgal somewhat apprehensive to his environment; he watched every tree, every plant for any sign of movement. Fortunately for the team, no more attacks came, and they reached the clearing successfully. The expeditionary force quickly set up a small outpost and began a perimeter sweep of the area to ensure their safety. Aside from the Cannoks, they deemed it habitable. Kirgal felt severely taxed throughout the journey, and asked for a brief respite after the area had been searched. The group accepted, and he did so. Though it had exhausted him greatly, he believed that he would soon get over it, just like he did with other problems.
Another year passed with few notable events Kirgal cared to remember. His team had moved around the deeper areas of the jungle where no other Mandalorian would go willingly, and fended off the native fauna that seemed a threat to their mission. Outposts were created wherever they believed far enough from other posts, to test its dependability. Only three posts could be active at one time due to forces being spread too thin, and the oldest post was broken down and set up in a new location. They repeated this pattern through the months, each expedition to a new region being unique in a way. Until a trek far into the recesses of the jungle did they come upon something that would change Kirgal permanently.
A long walk into the jungle had little to no effect on the ZeHethbra. Adaption to the dense environment had come quickly, and did not tax him as it had a year before. And, being more acute in his hearing sense, picked up the conversation of several people far away. Kirgal signaled for the others to keep quiet, and made the proper hand gestures to tell them there were others in their midst. It couldn't have been Mandalorians, for they were the only ones this far out in the jungle currently. The squad quickly grouped together and moved as a single mass toward the commotion, weapons drawn. As they approached a small clearing, Kirgal spotted about four figures arguing near a shipment that he had no way of describing. He could only surmise that they may be smugglers, and the crates were part of a trade. There was no way he would allow it to resume, especially considering they were in Mandalorian territory. They waited only a few moments before bursting out of the underbrush, rifles aimed directly at the strangers. Kirgal ordered them to cease their actions drop any device they had on them, then motioned to one of his own to search the smugglers one by one. He stood not too far away from them, covering his man and further observing the four culprits: a Wookiee, two Humans, and a Twi'lek from what he could tell.
When the third smuggler was being searched, the last, a Human, sneaked a pistol and pressed its barrel against the Mandalorian's head. The smuggler seemed wide eyed with fear, and told Kirgal and the rest to drop their weapons or forfeit their brother's life; they had no choice but to comply. Next he commanded them to stand in a line, and shoved their captive, telling him to join them. Kirgal slowly made his way to his squad by back stepping toward them, watching what the smugglers' actions. Then the smuggler got rid of the pistol and reached for something far dangerous...A flamethrower.
Kirgal foresaw their actions; they would burn his nearest brother to a crisp, then do so with the others. Without thinking of a proper reaction, Kirgal ran as fast as his legs could carry him, and pushed the Mandalorian out of harm's way, but left himself exposed. In a desperate attempt to protect himself, he raised his left arm to prevent the gas powered flames from reaching his face. The smuggler only let out a single burst, surprised to see a different target, which saved Kirgal from further burns. The ZeHethbra immediately began to snuff the flames that caught on to his arm, but the Wookiee smuggler stopped him by delivering a powerful strike to his helmet with a blunt weapon, knocking him out cold. Before he could end Kirgal, his Mandalorian squad had already retrieved their weapons and fired upon the smugglers.
Pain welcomed him back into the world. When Kirgal awoke, he was at the medical center in the main outpost, a fair distance away from the battleground. Despite suffering from a painful burning sensation on his arm and a potent headache, he demanded a report on what happened to his unit. The medic diagnosed Kirgal with third degree burns to his arm and brain trauma, explaining that he was saved from a cracked skull by his helmet. Shortly after, one of his squad mates told him that the expeditionary force dealt with the smugglers. Their was only one who was wounded besides himself, but the Mandalorian did not make it. Feeling nothing but bitterness and guilt, Kirgal attempted to sleep away his pains. Unfortunately, the burning pain and severely aching skull were too great to allow a mere drift into a slumber. The medic treated him with bacta to ease both, but Kirgal complained that it helped only to an extent. Eventually he managed to sleep, but horrific nightmares filled his thoughts throughout his rest.
Refusing to leave Dxun for proper treatment, Kirgal started his rehabilitation there a week after being admitted. At the start, they tested his accuracy and weight lifting. His vision and balance were rattled and the chance of hitting anything or even walking without falling over were extremely low, while he could barely lift fifteen pounds with his left arm. Bacta treatments were regular, but to hardly any avail. His wounds would heal, but only marginally, and leave him scarred.
It took six months for the burns on his arm to heal completely, his muscle renewed and able to lift the standard weight; but longer for his mind. Hallucinations of people and things were frequent, which caused him extreme distress. Fortunately with medication, the shades vanished over time. It was a year before Kirgal was rid of them completely, and felt doubtful of his efficiency on Dxun. But his Mandalorian brothers thought otherwise, and thought of his actions that day valorous and unforgettable.
With recommendations from the personnel at the camp, Kirgal was promoted to Sergeant and awarded a service medal for his selfless actions. Even then, he requested transfer to another planet. Within a week his request was confirmed, and they assigned him to another outpost on distant Kerest.
The transport shuttle landed on the frozen tundra at one of the equatorial bases that were under Mandalorian control. Kirgal was the first and only passenger to exit the shuttle, being one of the few that truly wanted to be stationed there. As soon as he saw the snowy landscape he felt younger again. Years had passed since he had seen snow, and it felt good under his feet. As he moved through the base, he listened to the soft crumple his boots would make, not getting enough of that familiar sound. Eventually the sound stopped as he began to walk on the metal flooring of the quarters there. Placing his belongings on the the cot that suited him, he ventured once more outside to converse with the commanding officer for assignment.
His mission on Kerest seemed as simple as when he was on Dxun: plant remote beacons throughout the territory for patrols to follow. However, instead of a full team, it was only him and another. It required them both to be out on the tundra for long hours at a time, but Kirgal would pay no mind to that detail. His thick fur would protect him from any frostbite; his partner, on the other hand, did not have such a luxury, being Human. Nevertheless, the two set out on their task a day after Kirgal arrived, feeling it the best time to get used to the planet sooner than later.
Kirgal could feel it in his veins. A blizzard was soon to arrive, made apparent by the winds picking up. He tapped Minek on the shoulder and nodded toward the distant lights. Minek returned the nod, and struck the earth with the large pole he had been carrying. It spread four long fingers outward in each direction, then emitted a bright light from its center. The beacon was the last of the three they lugged outside of the base, and would stay the last until the coming storm passed. Both walked in unison toward the still visible base not too far away. They then picked up the pace as the winds suddenly grew colder, and the heavy snowfall started.
Soon their salvation became obstructed by sheets of white before them, but its yellow-orange glow shone through brilliantly as it should. It was the same for all the beacons they placed, guiding lost Mandalorians to home. Without delay aside from being slowed by high winds, they made it.
Entering the surprisingly warm recreation area, they both sat down to enjoy relaxation. Relieving themselves of their helmets, they took in the brisk air around them. Minek reached into his belt and revealed a lighter and several cigarras, taking one away as he did so. He ignited one and applied it to his lips, then handed over another cigarra to Kirgal along with the lighter who did the same. The two inhaled the smoke deeply and exhaled not soon after, creating a thick cloud above their heads. Kirgal remembered why he started this habit when he arrived on Kerest. It seemed to be the ultimate form of relaxing at the time, and he would continue this beyond his five year stay on the frozen planet.
Kerest was a good place for the ZeHethbra, the eternal winter being his natural environment. Every time he carried a beacon to be placed out in the tundra, it felt like the spear he used when he was still a hunter. The cold earth would be his prey, and the strikes he made with the beacon felt like the killing blow delivered to a beast. It provoked memories of ZeHeth that laid light years away from him. Maybe he would visit it again one day, he thought, but for now lights needed to be placed, and so he trudged on. He would repeat this pattern along with Minek for endless months, replacing old and establishing new lights across the snow-covered land. They managed to go further than any other Mandalorian ventured in years, and dotted the region with the life-saving rods. Many patrols were spared death due to their actions, and all were grateful.
Yet, as kind as it was to him, the planet lost the lure it had on him. Half a decade felt too long already, and Kirgal had the urge to be elsewhere once more. Again he requested transfer to another far off world, but this time he would spend his time there on leave. It took some time to confirm, but Kirgal was approved and acquired travel to Shogun.
Currently he remains on the planet, but somewhat insensitive to its beauty. The thought of pretty looks left him when he remembered the worst but greatest day of his life. Feeling this way, he spent little time outdoors, and more time reading about what his brothers were doing around the galaxy. Kirgal came close to resuming his role in the military several times, but never did. He believed he earned a long rest.
Password: Bylgia
RPSample:
He drew a long breath as he smoked his cigarra. He then exhaled the smoke and watched it drift up near the ceiling, mixing with the various smokes already present. Kirgal then flicked the spent remains aside and reached for a new one. As he did, a small droid appeared onto the floor and swept up his leavings. Feeling amused by this, he chuckled only slightly, and rotated his chair to face the rest of the cantina patrons.
They all seemed the soft type to him. Despite the few shady characters here and there, it seemed nice. Too nice, in fact, for a person of his standards to handle. Lighting up a new cigarra, he stuck inbetween his lips and drew from it then exhaled through his nose. He felt the contents of his smoke at work, relaxing his body. Feeling like he spent too much time there already, he stood out of his chair and picked up his helmet.
Breathing the last of the cigarra in, he threw it to the ground and breathed out again before placing his helmet over his head. Though he happened to still be on leave, Kirgal wore his Mandalorian uniform. It made him feel apart from the other patrons, and took it to a liking.
As he left, others began to fill the cantina. Kirgal felt somewhat relieved that he was absent at the time when they took their seats near where he was previously. They began to chat loudly, and his temper would most likely get him into trouble if he were there. Kirgal then proceeded to the exit, not wanting to hear any more of their talk.
Kirgal noticed the looks he got as he traversed the area to his place of stay. Though his kind were regular, they did not wear the emotionless uniforms that intimidated their foes. Kirgal picked up his pace and made it to his apartment without incident. Upon opening the door, he decided that he could keep a lower profile by blending in with the locals, merely for personal amusement. Reaching into a provided trunk next to his bed, he revealed a full set of clothes that seemed to fit him. He then tried them on.
Not too bad, Kirgal thought. A red vest with a plain white shirt underneath, along with blue work pants, boots, and fingerless gloves that he managed to get on. He even thought of wearing it from now on until his leave was over. Taking in the fashion change, he decided to go out again, to see how others react.
Department: Army
Rank: Sergeant
Name: Kirgal Skirata
Race: ZeHethbra
Age: 25
Height: 6'7"
Weight: 220 lbs.
Birth place: ZeHeth
Appearance: Kirgal bears the rough, burly appearance of those born near the southern pole of ZeHeth. His fur is a mottled combination of dark blue and white, which complements his cold personality. A life of military training has made his body heavily muscled and somewhat bulky.
Personality: Due to his semi-xenophobic nature, he does not trust those that do not belong to his race or do not follow Mandalorian conduct. Even then he has a short temper like all ZeHethbra, which would boil over if certain insults were ever exchanged.
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 6
Intelligence: 4
Speed: 4
Leadership: 5
Unarmed: 6
Melee Weapons: 4
Ranged Weapons: 7
Alignment: -1
Bio:
Early Life
Kirgal was born to a hunting clan near the southern pole of ZeHeth. His early years were filled with constant lessons on how to use the traditional spear alongside hunting skills, instead of the unconventional blaster. His father saw honor in utilizing true strength and dexterity over complex technology. This he wanted to pass on to Kirgal despite him not being wholly interested in it. To Kirgal, the use of such weaponry simply wasn't hands on or even destructive enough to catch his eye. His later years claimed to be uneventful, filled with simple chores and routines that revolved around aiding his mother, until the time came to prove himself.
When he reached the age of thirteen, he went on a small game hunt to show his clan that he was an able hunter, armed with only a spear and few rations. Though fish were plenty, Kirgal decided on tracking land creatures despite their scarcity in the southern regions. Deep in the snowy tundra, he came upon large animal tracks leading far from his village. Taking the opportunity to make himself look more than capable, he took up the trail, intent on making the creature his first kill. It took him several days to find his game, but it made its presence known during a frigid day in the middle of the forest.
What he hunted happened to be a predatory creature with many horns, no doubt looking for food, but not realizing prey had moved to warmer climes. Taking advantage of the beast's confusion, Kirgal threw his spear into its hide, and faced it with nothing but his hands. Placing himself in front of a tree, he waited until the beast charged and closed in on him before evading, allowing it to collide with the tree. As it lay disoriented from the collision and lack of food, Kirgal hopped on its back and delivered several powerful blows to the back of its neck, eventually breaking it. As proof of a successful hunt, he took the strongest horn off its head and a piece of the hide, even some meat to be cooked on the way back. As it took him days to arrive where he was, it would be the same returning to his village.
Upon arrival in his village, Kirgal was greeted with much praise and even more after showing his trophies. Others thought it valiant of him to go after something so dangerous, but his parents were mindful of the looming presence of fatal injury pulling such actions. They commended him for his bravery, but not after a stern scorning for his incompetence.
Later hunts were done by the shoreline not far away. They bored Kirgal to the point he wanted to leave his home for the urban areas of his planet. Yet, it seemed he would not be alone on thinking such things. Bad times slowly wrapped themselves around Kirgal's village, and was first noticed through a lack of prey in the surrounding area. As the years passed, it only got worse, and starvation became a rampant thing. Feeling they had no other choice, Kirgal's parents decided on leaving not just the village, but the planet behind. It seemed to them to be the best choice, not wanting to face their unorthodox brothers in the more advanced regions of ZeHeth. Taking a gondola to a nearby city, they sold most of their possessions for supplies and to purchase tickets to a place they hoped would be honorable. A place far away: Mandalore.
Joining the Mandalorians
The family had heard stories of the Mandalorians and their ways. Though they lived with technology, it was something that needed to be accepted if they wanted to survive. Yet, they had tradition and honored family; something the ZeHethbra looked on as admirable. When they landed on Mandalore, they sought acceptance into the society, hoping one of the many clans would provide for them, and in return receive their undying loyalty to Mand'alor.
Fate had lead them to the Skirata clan, to whom they pledged service and an eternal oath to serve Mand'alor whenever they were needed. The family was provided a small farm, where they toiled at endlessly in order to live up to their pledge. Kirgal took this to heart, and thought about becoming more than just a mere hunter. At sixteen, he decided to join the Mandalorian Military, wanting to not just explore other worlds but grasp advanced technology of destructive capabilities.
Basic Training
Basic training followed immediately after Kirgal signed up for the Army. It was something he was unused to, but after a week he became familiar with the drills and managed to make friends within his training unit. They made him feel accepted compared to the others who were merely interested in where he came from. The two were also from the Skirata clan; Brig and Jaks being their names. Both were Human and had an interest in befriending the ZeHethbra. Kirgal wouldn't refuse, since he left everything behind on ZeHeth and found it grand to learn about others. The three managed to be grouped in nearly every training session, and seemed to be the most cooperative of their unit.
When the time came for training with live weaponry, Kirgal was ecstatic. Though his father shunned such things as blasters, he found them amazing in their capabilities of dealing death at range. At the shooting ranges, he was known for his deadly accuracy; even during the little leisure time they received, he spent it cleaning his blaster rifle to make sure it was always in top condition. He slowly became detached from his friends, paying little attention to their conversations and most of it on his weapon. Fractured as their friendship may have been, they still maintained it.
Soon war games took place, which further fed Kirgal's almost war-like nature. Though he didn't mind guard duty during the games, he mostly enjoyed being on the offensive or patrolling. He would help put together plans of attack, or scout in order to find some weakness. Nevertheless, his unit always felt confident in victory so long as Kirgal was at their side. During battle, he had a certain aura about him that made others feel morally positive.
After graduation from training, assignments to other worlds began. Kirgal's friend Brig was assigned a scouting position on Concord Dawn, while he and Jaks managed to be designated a patrol unit on far off Dxun. The nine weeks of training had readied Kirgal for his mission, and though he had not seen any real action, felt confident on meeting the task head on.
Dxun Campaign
Transport to the jungle moon did not take too long for all the impatient passengers aboard, including Kirgal. All the other recruits seemed to feel half excited and half scared, something he didn't share. He felt more interested in what he got to shoot and explore than being mindful of what horrible disease he could catch there. Their ship managed to get to the moon safely, and landed not too long after that.
As soon as the smell of wet jungle reached Kirgal's nose, he found himself off the transport shuttle. The Mandalorian outpost he landed at was less than he expected. It had a gloomy atmosphere about it, and felt abandoned despite the Mandalorians already stationed there. Taking up the packing bag he had brought along, Kirgal and Jaks made their way to the personnel quarters that had the required space for them. They settled in quickly and met with their assigned unit: the five man patrol squad known locally as Dar. After introductions were made, the patrol began their rounds in the dark, infested jungle that lay around them.
Their routine was the simple task of keeping the area surrounding the outpost safe. It truly would be simple if not for the near-constant rain making their path muddy and hard to walk through, or the many beasts that had wandered in by chance. The Dar squad had their hands full nearly every day, but Kirgal could not complain. He knew that there had to be worse positions, such as night patrols. Kirgal had heard stories of previous squads that patrolled the jungle in the night had gone missing without a trace. The more seasoned soldiers spoke of the Drexl that inhabited the planet, and how they could carry a man off in an instant. It made the ZeHethbra uncomfortable at the least, but wondered how well he would fare against such beasts. Yet, in the four long years he would be there, he would never see one.
As two years passed at hyperspeed, Kirgal began to treat Dxun like home. The musty air was a welcoming scent in the early morning, and the rain no longer bothered him. Dar squad had taught him how to stay above the foot-eating mud, which he used to his advantage. Every day seemed to be exactly the same as the previous: make the round, then start pest control. But a change became apparent during one day of patrolling.
Kirgal had spotted something moving in the deep underbrush. His keen hearing picked up the heavy steps the thing made as it walked. The others including Jaks had no idea what it could be except possibly one of the many Boma beasts that lurked in the jungle dark. Feeling his younger hunting days return to him, Kirgal decided to stalk the creature, curious as to what it may be. The sluggish steps he followed with his ears had a steady pace to them, but that soon stopped. Both the beast and hunter halted in unison, but the latter began sneaking toward the former, intent on getting it within his blaster's sights.
The creature may have heard Kirgal creeping up on it, but was too late to react. Aiming a high powered shot at the beasts head, the ZeHethbra fired and watched the animal cry in pain seconds before death took it. Aware that some things had bursts of life when they should be slain, Kirgal approached the corpse cautiously. His squad mates on the other hand burst on to the scene and fixated themselves on Kirgal's prey.
They congratulated him on his precision, noting the great hole burnt through its head, but cheered for him when they realized the beast had been a Zakkeg. Kirgal had no knowledge of such a thing existing, and they enlightened him on what an accomplishment it was to slay one. As proof of his deed, he took a horn from atop its head as a trophy to show his Mandalorian brothers at the outpost.
Kirgal's horn trophy earned him a reputation in the outpost, and a spot on the expeditionary force, which he eagerly joined. Instead of the same routes every day, he now enjoyed the freedom of roaming the jungle, finding new places to set up temporary posts from which they could operate. The five man team began their assignment only a day after Kirgal joined, and made their goal a supposed clearing a thousand meters away from the main outpost.
Their trek was long and arduous, filled with perils Kirgal could only imagine. On two occasions did the team run into packs of Maalraas that seemed on the verge of attack, and dealt with them accordingly. The others were used to such events, but made Kirgal somewhat apprehensive to his environment; he watched every tree, every plant for any sign of movement. Fortunately for the team, no more attacks came, and they reached the clearing successfully. The expeditionary force quickly set up a small outpost and began a perimeter sweep of the area to ensure their safety. Aside from the Cannoks, they deemed it habitable. Kirgal felt severely taxed throughout the journey, and asked for a brief respite after the area had been searched. The group accepted, and he did so. Though it had exhausted him greatly, he believed that he would soon get over it, just like he did with other problems.
Another year passed with few notable events Kirgal cared to remember. His team had moved around the deeper areas of the jungle where no other Mandalorian would go willingly, and fended off the native fauna that seemed a threat to their mission. Outposts were created wherever they believed far enough from other posts, to test its dependability. Only three posts could be active at one time due to forces being spread too thin, and the oldest post was broken down and set up in a new location. They repeated this pattern through the months, each expedition to a new region being unique in a way. Until a trek far into the recesses of the jungle did they come upon something that would change Kirgal permanently.
A long walk into the jungle had little to no effect on the ZeHethbra. Adaption to the dense environment had come quickly, and did not tax him as it had a year before. And, being more acute in his hearing sense, picked up the conversation of several people far away. Kirgal signaled for the others to keep quiet, and made the proper hand gestures to tell them there were others in their midst. It couldn't have been Mandalorians, for they were the only ones this far out in the jungle currently. The squad quickly grouped together and moved as a single mass toward the commotion, weapons drawn. As they approached a small clearing, Kirgal spotted about four figures arguing near a shipment that he had no way of describing. He could only surmise that they may be smugglers, and the crates were part of a trade. There was no way he would allow it to resume, especially considering they were in Mandalorian territory. They waited only a few moments before bursting out of the underbrush, rifles aimed directly at the strangers. Kirgal ordered them to cease their actions drop any device they had on them, then motioned to one of his own to search the smugglers one by one. He stood not too far away from them, covering his man and further observing the four culprits: a Wookiee, two Humans, and a Twi'lek from what he could tell.
When the third smuggler was being searched, the last, a Human, sneaked a pistol and pressed its barrel against the Mandalorian's head. The smuggler seemed wide eyed with fear, and told Kirgal and the rest to drop their weapons or forfeit their brother's life; they had no choice but to comply. Next he commanded them to stand in a line, and shoved their captive, telling him to join them. Kirgal slowly made his way to his squad by back stepping toward them, watching what the smugglers' actions. Then the smuggler got rid of the pistol and reached for something far dangerous...A flamethrower.
Kirgal foresaw their actions; they would burn his nearest brother to a crisp, then do so with the others. Without thinking of a proper reaction, Kirgal ran as fast as his legs could carry him, and pushed the Mandalorian out of harm's way, but left himself exposed. In a desperate attempt to protect himself, he raised his left arm to prevent the gas powered flames from reaching his face. The smuggler only let out a single burst, surprised to see a different target, which saved Kirgal from further burns. The ZeHethbra immediately began to snuff the flames that caught on to his arm, but the Wookiee smuggler stopped him by delivering a powerful strike to his helmet with a blunt weapon, knocking him out cold. Before he could end Kirgal, his Mandalorian squad had already retrieved their weapons and fired upon the smugglers.
Pain welcomed him back into the world. When Kirgal awoke, he was at the medical center in the main outpost, a fair distance away from the battleground. Despite suffering from a painful burning sensation on his arm and a potent headache, he demanded a report on what happened to his unit. The medic diagnosed Kirgal with third degree burns to his arm and brain trauma, explaining that he was saved from a cracked skull by his helmet. Shortly after, one of his squad mates told him that the expeditionary force dealt with the smugglers. Their was only one who was wounded besides himself, but the Mandalorian did not make it. Feeling nothing but bitterness and guilt, Kirgal attempted to sleep away his pains. Unfortunately, the burning pain and severely aching skull were too great to allow a mere drift into a slumber. The medic treated him with bacta to ease both, but Kirgal complained that it helped only to an extent. Eventually he managed to sleep, but horrific nightmares filled his thoughts throughout his rest.
Refusing to leave Dxun for proper treatment, Kirgal started his rehabilitation there a week after being admitted. At the start, they tested his accuracy and weight lifting. His vision and balance were rattled and the chance of hitting anything or even walking without falling over were extremely low, while he could barely lift fifteen pounds with his left arm. Bacta treatments were regular, but to hardly any avail. His wounds would heal, but only marginally, and leave him scarred.
It took six months for the burns on his arm to heal completely, his muscle renewed and able to lift the standard weight; but longer for his mind. Hallucinations of people and things were frequent, which caused him extreme distress. Fortunately with medication, the shades vanished over time. It was a year before Kirgal was rid of them completely, and felt doubtful of his efficiency on Dxun. But his Mandalorian brothers thought otherwise, and thought of his actions that day valorous and unforgettable.
With recommendations from the personnel at the camp, Kirgal was promoted to Sergeant and awarded a service medal for his selfless actions. Even then, he requested transfer to another planet. Within a week his request was confirmed, and they assigned him to another outpost on distant Kerest.
Kerest Campaign
The transport shuttle landed on the frozen tundra at one of the equatorial bases that were under Mandalorian control. Kirgal was the first and only passenger to exit the shuttle, being one of the few that truly wanted to be stationed there. As soon as he saw the snowy landscape he felt younger again. Years had passed since he had seen snow, and it felt good under his feet. As he moved through the base, he listened to the soft crumple his boots would make, not getting enough of that familiar sound. Eventually the sound stopped as he began to walk on the metal flooring of the quarters there. Placing his belongings on the the cot that suited him, he ventured once more outside to converse with the commanding officer for assignment.
His mission on Kerest seemed as simple as when he was on Dxun: plant remote beacons throughout the territory for patrols to follow. However, instead of a full team, it was only him and another. It required them both to be out on the tundra for long hours at a time, but Kirgal would pay no mind to that detail. His thick fur would protect him from any frostbite; his partner, on the other hand, did not have such a luxury, being Human. Nevertheless, the two set out on their task a day after Kirgal arrived, feeling it the best time to get used to the planet sooner than later.
Kirgal could feel it in his veins. A blizzard was soon to arrive, made apparent by the winds picking up. He tapped Minek on the shoulder and nodded toward the distant lights. Minek returned the nod, and struck the earth with the large pole he had been carrying. It spread four long fingers outward in each direction, then emitted a bright light from its center. The beacon was the last of the three they lugged outside of the base, and would stay the last until the coming storm passed. Both walked in unison toward the still visible base not too far away. They then picked up the pace as the winds suddenly grew colder, and the heavy snowfall started.
Soon their salvation became obstructed by sheets of white before them, but its yellow-orange glow shone through brilliantly as it should. It was the same for all the beacons they placed, guiding lost Mandalorians to home. Without delay aside from being slowed by high winds, they made it.
Entering the surprisingly warm recreation area, they both sat down to enjoy relaxation. Relieving themselves of their helmets, they took in the brisk air around them. Minek reached into his belt and revealed a lighter and several cigarras, taking one away as he did so. He ignited one and applied it to his lips, then handed over another cigarra to Kirgal along with the lighter who did the same. The two inhaled the smoke deeply and exhaled not soon after, creating a thick cloud above their heads. Kirgal remembered why he started this habit when he arrived on Kerest. It seemed to be the ultimate form of relaxing at the time, and he would continue this beyond his five year stay on the frozen planet.
Kerest was a good place for the ZeHethbra, the eternal winter being his natural environment. Every time he carried a beacon to be placed out in the tundra, it felt like the spear he used when he was still a hunter. The cold earth would be his prey, and the strikes he made with the beacon felt like the killing blow delivered to a beast. It provoked memories of ZeHeth that laid light years away from him. Maybe he would visit it again one day, he thought, but for now lights needed to be placed, and so he trudged on. He would repeat this pattern along with Minek for endless months, replacing old and establishing new lights across the snow-covered land. They managed to go further than any other Mandalorian ventured in years, and dotted the region with the life-saving rods. Many patrols were spared death due to their actions, and all were grateful.
Yet, as kind as it was to him, the planet lost the lure it had on him. Half a decade felt too long already, and Kirgal had the urge to be elsewhere once more. Again he requested transfer to another far off world, but this time he would spend his time there on leave. It took some time to confirm, but Kirgal was approved and acquired travel to Shogun.
Currently he remains on the planet, but somewhat insensitive to its beauty. The thought of pretty looks left him when he remembered the worst but greatest day of his life. Feeling this way, he spent little time outdoors, and more time reading about what his brothers were doing around the galaxy. Kirgal came close to resuming his role in the military several times, but never did. He believed he earned a long rest.
Password: Bylgia
RPSample:
He drew a long breath as he smoked his cigarra. He then exhaled the smoke and watched it drift up near the ceiling, mixing with the various smokes already present. Kirgal then flicked the spent remains aside and reached for a new one. As he did, a small droid appeared onto the floor and swept up his leavings. Feeling amused by this, he chuckled only slightly, and rotated his chair to face the rest of the cantina patrons.
They all seemed the soft type to him. Despite the few shady characters here and there, it seemed nice. Too nice, in fact, for a person of his standards to handle. Lighting up a new cigarra, he stuck inbetween his lips and drew from it then exhaled through his nose. He felt the contents of his smoke at work, relaxing his body. Feeling like he spent too much time there already, he stood out of his chair and picked up his helmet.
Breathing the last of the cigarra in, he threw it to the ground and breathed out again before placing his helmet over his head. Though he happened to still be on leave, Kirgal wore his Mandalorian uniform. It made him feel apart from the other patrons, and took it to a liking.
As he left, others began to fill the cantina. Kirgal felt somewhat relieved that he was absent at the time when they took their seats near where he was previously. They began to chat loudly, and his temper would most likely get him into trouble if he were there. Kirgal then proceeded to the exit, not wanting to hear any more of their talk.
Kirgal noticed the looks he got as he traversed the area to his place of stay. Though his kind were regular, they did not wear the emotionless uniforms that intimidated their foes. Kirgal picked up his pace and made it to his apartment without incident. Upon opening the door, he decided that he could keep a lower profile by blending in with the locals, merely for personal amusement. Reaching into a provided trunk next to his bed, he revealed a full set of clothes that seemed to fit him. He then tried them on.
Not too bad, Kirgal thought. A red vest with a plain white shirt underneath, along with blue work pants, boots, and fingerless gloves that he managed to get on. He even thought of wearing it from now on until his leave was over. Taking in the fashion change, he decided to go out again, to see how others react.
