Post by Laughing Man on Jan 12, 2011 22:50:21 GMT -5
Faction:Mando’ade(Mandalorian)
Department: Special Operations(Information Gathering and Guerilla warfare)
Rank: Alor'ad(Captain Equivalent)
Name: Doran Skytower (Vhe’tra Kata is his Mandalorian name)
Race: Human
Age: 34
Height: 5’11”
Weight:195
Birth place:Nubia, Feraldas
Appearance: Brown short hair that is cut to a military length, marred by scarring from shrapnel due to explosion near his head. Extremely pale skin due to his almost always being encased in beskar'gam, his build is lean, but not overtly muscular. Scar over right eye from brow ridge to middle cheek. Cybernetic right eye that glows blue with hazel/brown mixed left eye.
Prosthetics/Implants:
Right eye is prosthetic and can uplink with his helmet for seamless data transmissions between the mind and helmet.
Implant at the base of his skull for connecting his helmet and eye to access Slicing and System infiltration faster and easier.
Personality: Long memory, Short fuse. Extremely loyal to friends and family. Protective of those he holds dear. He is just as likely to kill you for honor as for the protection of his family. He adheres to strict code of honor and justice. Having been a Mandalorian for a good while now, he adheres to the resol’nare above all else. He’s not afraid to brawl you, stab you, shoot you in the head, or anything in between. Long as you don’t give him reason to, he’ll leave you be. Prideful of what and who he is, he will not let you down talk Mando’ade and forget the repercussions of such an action.
Due to events involving such uses, Vhe'tra has developed a mild phobia of both Light sabers(specifically the sounds of one activating or already running) and the Force. While he is in no way force sensitive, he has ways to recognize it's use due to interaction with such types, and will start to slowly lose control of his inhibitions when introduced to it. This does not mean he will immediately attack jedi or sith, but rather that when they use the force around him, he gets visibly shaken and more hostile toward that person(s).
Skills: Starship technician(Quick fixes), Beskar Blacksmith(Several years worth of experience), Melee Skirmisher, Starship Piloting(Fairly good dogfighter), Information Systems Breaching and Manipulation.
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 5
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 7
Leadership: 5
Unarmed: 4
Melee Weapons: 7
Ranged Weapons: 6
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral (+2)
Bio:
Doran Skytower grew up on the planet Nubia, in a small farming community known as Feraldas. Not many people know about the agriculture of Nubia, or at least nobody speaks of it because Nubia is known for it’s massive shipyards employed by the Republic. His father was a farmer, and taught him the trade, but was often abusive. Getting drunk in town and staggering home to beat his two children, Gregory Skytower was a man of quick temper, but would always remember a deed someone did for him, or a misdeed. These traits were inherited by his son, Doran.
At 14, Doran’s Father came home one night and was extremely drunk after an un-productive harvest. He beat Doran’s sister, Emily, to death with his bare hands, and almost killed Doran as well. Doran’s mother didn’t even try to stop it. She never did. She just stood and watched, then got manhandled into the bedroom by Gregory for his enjoyment. It was then Doran decided things had to change. At the ripe, young, maturing age of fourteen, Doran went into his father’s tool shed. He grabbed the pitchfork used for moving hay around and went into the house. His father was sitting in his chair and demanded to know what he was doing. Doran often practiced playing with the Pitchfork like it was a weapon, being a boy with an over-active mind, and nothing to do with it. When he took the stance in front of his father, who was a veteran of the Mandalorian Clean-ups on the Republic Side, the old belligerent drunk stood and roared at him. He threw his bottle of whiskey at Doran, but it missed and broke against the wall, which brought Doran's mother running from the bedroom. Before she got there, Doran had charged, and speared his father, killing him when one of the three prongs entered the old man’s heart. When his mother showed up, she saw what he had done and screamed at him, picking up the neck of the broken whiskey bottle and throwing it her son and knocked him unconscious. This caused him to lose his sight in his eye, and gave him a huge gouge he would never be rid of.
Doran's mother brought him into the city and dumped him in an alley to die, then split to work the streets but ended up being murdered for the small amount of credits she had. Doran awoke to a whole new world, confused, blinded in one eye, and with no home to go to, he stumbled into a hospital which took him in and saved his life. They had to discharge him to an orphanage but he would run away as soon as he got better, surviving a while as a gutter rat, stowing away on transports until he arrived on Nar Shadda where he would join a gang until joining the military at 17.
During his time with the Little Coruscant Clubbers, a children's gang on the Smuggler's Moon, Doran learned how to use a variety of standard and improvised weapons. He learned how to brawl, though wasn't very good at it, showing more skills with weapons and computers than people or fist-fighting. He was taught the principle that to draw a weapon, one must be ready to kill with it since down in the Undercity of Little Coruscant, simply flashing a weapon could get you shot and killed.
Doran was always a bit of a small person, not very heavily built, he relied on the aid of melee weapons, his quick reflexes, and simply outsmarting his opponents to win his fights. This was further noted by his skills with the use of computers and to fix the gang's swoop they used in the local gang races. He had worked on his Father's hovertruck and farm equipment because the lazy old barve never wanted to do it himself, and so he was well-acquainted with small-scale repulsor technology and general mechanics.
During his military career, which only lasted four years, Doran saw much fighting as the Republic forces quelled a few remaining Mandalorian forces, and fought many, battles against hutt thugs, smugglers, Mandalorians, and paramilitary organisations. During his time he distinguished himself as a fighter pilot, though while on his off-time he was always known to tinker around with computer systems and took classes in Information Systems Networking. Through this, he gained knowledge of how certain systems work and how to breach them.
At 21, Doran’s unit, a rather small Corvette named Everlasting was stationed in the Ado Spine for smuggling interdiction. There they were ambushed by a hutt fleet that got tired of losing their shipments, and their ship was not equipped to engage the multitude of small craft and so it was overwhelmed. The Soldiers boarded their ship, and a fight raged for hours within the passageways of that doomed vessel. During the fighting, Doran’s commanding officer was killed, and handed Doran, only a Petty Officer, his custom vibro-sword and told him, “Get out alive, live to tell the tale of what happened here...”
Doran led his small group that was defending the bridge out to the only escape pods left on the ship, fighting through swathes of soldiers, utilizing their knowledge of the ship, and guerrilla tactics learned from his gang days to defeat their foes. Only that small handful survived, and it was an experience that instilled a deep hatred for the Hutt into Doran.
After the incident with the Everlasting, Doran bummed around the outer Rim. Taking on odd jobs as smuggling crew, and piloting every now and then, honing his skills in keeping the hunks of junk alive while learning to become an accomplished pilot. He landed back on Nar Shaddaa and made a little home for himself there, etching out a meager existence for years before moving on. He came to know Vertical City as his second home.
At 23, Doran left Nar Shaddaa and landed on Tatooine after a smuggling run gone bad. He split from his crew, and after a few weeks of taking odd jobs, joined a Rebellion faction there, who were combating Hutt and criminal forces in Mos Eisley. They called themselves the Red Warriors. In the Red Warriors, Doran quickly distinguished himself as a member of leadership roles rather than a grunt to be thrown at the enemy. The rebellion faction came into possession of a Destroyer, and Doran was given command of the ship. Using it to blockade hutt smugglers, the Rich Divergent became a little-known symbol of hope.
During his time serving the Red Warriors, Doran led a raid group on a local group of spice smugglers, leading his troops into their den to clean them out. What they found was a Dark Jedi, and not just one of the Warrior types, one of the actual living, breathing, saber-toting, finger-wiggling types. The warrior put up a hell of a fight, showing off his use of the force by dispatching and either wounding or killing most of Doran's forces. In the end, all the smugglers lay dead or dying except the Dark Jedi, and all the Red Warriors were in the same condition except for Doran. The Dark Jedi had been wounded during the fight, but Doran was no match for him still. Using his vibro-sword that he received from his Captain on board the Everlasting, he attempted to engage the Dark Jedi. It was a quick fight that ended quickly and with Doran's neck being crushed by the force slowly and painfully, the life draining from him. feeling lost, and utterly powerless against this force, Doran started to black out until the sound of a blaster erupted and the pressure ceased. His leader, Rasho, had managed to bring the reserve assault force in the nick of time, and taken out the saber-slinger, giving the light saber to Doran for a trophy.
Ever since that day, Doran had grown a wariness for light sabers, a deep hatred and loathing of the sounds they made, and the lifeless hum they emitted. He also started garnering a sort of paranoia toward the force, taking little things into consideration from then on as to why things happened the way they did. He managed to build an awareness toward the more noticable affects the force could produce, able to spot it more readily than most. Where some would gawk as a box levitated, he would go into a defensive posture and seek the source of the force usage, for example.
At the age of 24 for Doran, the Red Warriors suffered greatly. Their charismatic leader, Rasho Neox, went on a mission of relief to a nearby planet and never returned. He was recorded as MIA, but the one thing that held the Red Warriors together had disappeared, and so the group fell to infighting and lack of cohesion. Doran took the Rich Divergent and hid it in a nearby scrap-dump, leaving it for another time. He dismissed his crew, and fell back into Tatooine. Falling to heavy drinking, Doran wandered the streets of Mos Eisley picking random fights, brandishing his old Captain’s custom Vibro-sword and losing fights, ending up more or less in the gutters on a good day, worse on a bad day. After this carried on, an old friend of his stepped in.
Cayce Urriah of Kata Aliit.
Cayce was a comrade of Doran’s. A Mandalorian who had fought alongside him in his efforts against Republic, hutt, and even Sith forces once before, despite the mistrust everyone placed on the Mandalorians. After finding her once-honorable and well-respected friend drunk and belligerent, she manhandled him and kicked his backside around. Taking his weapons away, and telling another of her members, and a man who would come to be great friends with Doran, William Hemata, to throw them into the sarlacc. Doran would get his weapons back when he could prove he was capable of standing upright and returning to his old self. After a week or so, Doran re-assessed himself and made a turn-around in his life.
Informing Cayce of his decisions, she patted him on the back and told Will to retrieve the weapons. Will ran into trouble, and Cayce had to get them herself. Will had taken a few hits, and they had to shuttle him out. The wounds weren’t too bad, but Cayce made the trip, with Doran, to Mandalore. Upon arrival, and after a bit of talking and deliberation, Doran was given an opportunity: To join the Mandalorian Clan Kata.
Doran accepted and took the culture fully into himself.
For the next few years, Doran would take on the name, “Vhe’tra Kata” After proving himself a worthy fighter, and a worthy pilot. Having spent time on Mandalore Prime learning how to work Beskar, Vhe'tra forged himself his armor, a custom armor that focused on forward-facing plates of armor with an under-layer that was sealed to the environment, as well as a bes’beviin(Iron spear) and a bes’kad(Curved, Iron saber), but those would come a bit later.
Doran rose in the ranks of Kata Aliit, though he didn’t care much for the titles. Mandalorians didn’t give too much thought to rank: Honor, respect, and reputation were more effective ways of earning command. Along his years in Kata, Will would become one of his closer vode, and together they’d spend time beating down idiots, and taking mercenary jobs where they wished. though he was always faithful and zealously carried out the Resol'nare, or six tenets of Mandalorian life.
A few years in, one of Doran’s close friends from his days in the Red Warriors was murdered on Coruscant, leaving an orphaned child behind. Doran immediately took her into his care, and under the Mandalorian laws, adopted her as Atin’la Skytower. Due to his father's abusive ways, he strives to be the man his father never was. Taking care of the child since she was nine years of age, he trained her to the best of his abilities to become a Mandalorian.
Ten years later, she is a full-grown adult and a Mandalorian all of her own, something of which Vhe'tra takes great pride in. After spending much of his time working for his clan, Vhe'tra earned himself a few medals. Kata being a clan of metallurgists, spies, and guerrilla tacticians, Vhe'tra learned much on the arts of Metallugry, forging himself his own beskar'gam, a bes'kad, and even a customized Bes'beviin - or Iron halberd. After the death of the clan's previous Alor'ad, or second-in-command that held their Captain rank, Vhe'tra was approached by Cayce and offered the position which he accepted immediately.
Setting out as quartermaster and caretaker for the small, but effective clan of Mandalorians, Vhe'tra was tasked with not only looking after, but raising and training many of the younger members while their parents were away earning credits for the clan. Vhe'tra himself relies on his reflexes and speed, along with intensive melee weapons training to outmanuever his foes rather than taking them on with brute force. He wittles his foes down with small, precise strikes in vital areas, using a duelist strategy and relying on resourcefulness, good planning, and his environment to take down those he cannot defeat with simple martial prowess.
Even today, he serves under Kebii'tra Kata, Cayce's daughter and heir to the Kata Clan's Leadership. Though he is sort of a figure that she herself looks up to, since he was offered the position and refused. At 34 years of age, he is still maintaining his weight and speed, though he never had much physical prowess and relied mostly on speed and superior tactics to defeat his foes, such is the way of Kata, which is why he felt so at home with them.
Password: Bylgia
RP Sample:
The Mandalorian’s visor was stained with spatters of blood that trickled down it slowly. He released his fist from around the trooper’s neck, watching the lifeless body fall away. His other hand was holding the bes’kad that was in the trooper’s stomach, and let it slide out of his gut, spraying blood onto his leg and waist. The rest of the troopers were stunned for a moment, giving the Mandalorian all the time he needed to whip out his Heavy Slug Thrower and end another man’s life. That spurred action from the remaining two, who drew their vibro blades and charged him as one. Doran took a step back to avoid a downward stroke, and then brought his bes’kad up to block the second attack. His fist flashed out across the chin of the second attacker, rocking him back. Before he could finish the kill, the first trooper made a lunge at his gut.
The vibro blade connected, but the veteran Mandalorian twisted his body to turn what would have been a plunged stab into a grazing blow that slid off of his beskar’gam neatly. Grabbing the blade of the attacker’s sword with his crushgaunt, he turned the finely-crafted blade into a piece of scrap metal and twisting his lower body further, then slashed across the man’s throat. Crimson arterial spray spattered the two remaining warriors as the trooper’s body fell to the ground, hands clutching at a wound that was already his doom.
Vhe’tra faced the last man who stood adamant with his sword. At this point a massive, black shadow enveloped the pair. Vhe’tra Kata never took his eyes off the trooper, but the trooper looked up in time to see Ani’ray – Vhe’tra’s massive, black basilisk War Droid descend upon him and tear him in half with beskar claws. The blood stained the black Ward Droid’s carapace and she chirped delightfully,
“Saved Dor’buir, elek? Jate, jate!” She chirped and Vhe’tra chuckled,
“Ori’jate ner vod. How goes the skies?”
“Many explosives and flying, angry missiles. I dodge and destroy. Not fun.” It chimed back before Vhe’tra hopped on her back and sheathed his saber. Around them anti-aircraft fire roared overhead as more Bes’uliike screamed through the skies, blasting emplacements and dodging SAMs.
The ground had a trench dug around the jedi fortress-temple in the center, where the Mandalorian lines were launching artillery to break down their defenses. In space, the Republic and Mandalorian fleets exchanged weapons fire and tore each other into slag. Vhe’tra drew his bes’beviin – a Beskar spear – and the duo roared into the sky,
“Will’ika, meet me by the fortress, we’re going in. Solus, this is Squad Ehn. We’re moving in.” he said over his comms,
“Elek, Ehn this is Solus. Go ahead for entry.” Replied command.
“Oi, vod. On your six, let’s kick some shebse.” Replied William Hemata, one of Doran’s closest buddies and clanmates,
“Oya Manda, ori’vod! Let’s show these aruetiise how to play!” responded Vhe’tra, quickly barking out orders,
“Squad Ehn, form on me! Bes’uliik calvalry! Charge! Kote darasuum!” he shouted as the calvalry from Squad Ehn fell into formation and they roared toward the Jedi temple…
Department: Special Operations(Information Gathering and Guerilla warfare)
Rank: Alor'ad(Captain Equivalent)
Name: Doran Skytower (Vhe’tra Kata is his Mandalorian name)
Race: Human
Age: 34
Height: 5’11”
Weight:195
Birth place:Nubia, Feraldas
Appearance: Brown short hair that is cut to a military length, marred by scarring from shrapnel due to explosion near his head. Extremely pale skin due to his almost always being encased in beskar'gam, his build is lean, but not overtly muscular. Scar over right eye from brow ridge to middle cheek. Cybernetic right eye that glows blue with hazel/brown mixed left eye.
Prosthetics/Implants:
Right eye is prosthetic and can uplink with his helmet for seamless data transmissions between the mind and helmet.
Implant at the base of his skull for connecting his helmet and eye to access Slicing and System infiltration faster and easier.
Personality: Long memory, Short fuse. Extremely loyal to friends and family. Protective of those he holds dear. He is just as likely to kill you for honor as for the protection of his family. He adheres to strict code of honor and justice. Having been a Mandalorian for a good while now, he adheres to the resol’nare above all else. He’s not afraid to brawl you, stab you, shoot you in the head, or anything in between. Long as you don’t give him reason to, he’ll leave you be. Prideful of what and who he is, he will not let you down talk Mando’ade and forget the repercussions of such an action.
Due to events involving such uses, Vhe'tra has developed a mild phobia of both Light sabers(specifically the sounds of one activating or already running) and the Force. While he is in no way force sensitive, he has ways to recognize it's use due to interaction with such types, and will start to slowly lose control of his inhibitions when introduced to it. This does not mean he will immediately attack jedi or sith, but rather that when they use the force around him, he gets visibly shaken and more hostile toward that person(s).
Skills: Starship technician(Quick fixes), Beskar Blacksmith(Several years worth of experience), Melee Skirmisher, Starship Piloting(Fairly good dogfighter), Information Systems Breaching and Manipulation.
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 5
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 7
Leadership: 5
Unarmed: 4
Melee Weapons: 7
Ranged Weapons: 6
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral (+2)
Bio:
Doran Skytower grew up on the planet Nubia, in a small farming community known as Feraldas. Not many people know about the agriculture of Nubia, or at least nobody speaks of it because Nubia is known for it’s massive shipyards employed by the Republic. His father was a farmer, and taught him the trade, but was often abusive. Getting drunk in town and staggering home to beat his two children, Gregory Skytower was a man of quick temper, but would always remember a deed someone did for him, or a misdeed. These traits were inherited by his son, Doran.
At 14, Doran’s Father came home one night and was extremely drunk after an un-productive harvest. He beat Doran’s sister, Emily, to death with his bare hands, and almost killed Doran as well. Doran’s mother didn’t even try to stop it. She never did. She just stood and watched, then got manhandled into the bedroom by Gregory for his enjoyment. It was then Doran decided things had to change. At the ripe, young, maturing age of fourteen, Doran went into his father’s tool shed. He grabbed the pitchfork used for moving hay around and went into the house. His father was sitting in his chair and demanded to know what he was doing. Doran often practiced playing with the Pitchfork like it was a weapon, being a boy with an over-active mind, and nothing to do with it. When he took the stance in front of his father, who was a veteran of the Mandalorian Clean-ups on the Republic Side, the old belligerent drunk stood and roared at him. He threw his bottle of whiskey at Doran, but it missed and broke against the wall, which brought Doran's mother running from the bedroom. Before she got there, Doran had charged, and speared his father, killing him when one of the three prongs entered the old man’s heart. When his mother showed up, she saw what he had done and screamed at him, picking up the neck of the broken whiskey bottle and throwing it her son and knocked him unconscious. This caused him to lose his sight in his eye, and gave him a huge gouge he would never be rid of.
Doran's mother brought him into the city and dumped him in an alley to die, then split to work the streets but ended up being murdered for the small amount of credits she had. Doran awoke to a whole new world, confused, blinded in one eye, and with no home to go to, he stumbled into a hospital which took him in and saved his life. They had to discharge him to an orphanage but he would run away as soon as he got better, surviving a while as a gutter rat, stowing away on transports until he arrived on Nar Shadda where he would join a gang until joining the military at 17.
During his time with the Little Coruscant Clubbers, a children's gang on the Smuggler's Moon, Doran learned how to use a variety of standard and improvised weapons. He learned how to brawl, though wasn't very good at it, showing more skills with weapons and computers than people or fist-fighting. He was taught the principle that to draw a weapon, one must be ready to kill with it since down in the Undercity of Little Coruscant, simply flashing a weapon could get you shot and killed.
Doran was always a bit of a small person, not very heavily built, he relied on the aid of melee weapons, his quick reflexes, and simply outsmarting his opponents to win his fights. This was further noted by his skills with the use of computers and to fix the gang's swoop they used in the local gang races. He had worked on his Father's hovertruck and farm equipment because the lazy old barve never wanted to do it himself, and so he was well-acquainted with small-scale repulsor technology and general mechanics.
During his military career, which only lasted four years, Doran saw much fighting as the Republic forces quelled a few remaining Mandalorian forces, and fought many, battles against hutt thugs, smugglers, Mandalorians, and paramilitary organisations. During his time he distinguished himself as a fighter pilot, though while on his off-time he was always known to tinker around with computer systems and took classes in Information Systems Networking. Through this, he gained knowledge of how certain systems work and how to breach them.
At 21, Doran’s unit, a rather small Corvette named Everlasting was stationed in the Ado Spine for smuggling interdiction. There they were ambushed by a hutt fleet that got tired of losing their shipments, and their ship was not equipped to engage the multitude of small craft and so it was overwhelmed. The Soldiers boarded their ship, and a fight raged for hours within the passageways of that doomed vessel. During the fighting, Doran’s commanding officer was killed, and handed Doran, only a Petty Officer, his custom vibro-sword and told him, “Get out alive, live to tell the tale of what happened here...”
Doran led his small group that was defending the bridge out to the only escape pods left on the ship, fighting through swathes of soldiers, utilizing their knowledge of the ship, and guerrilla tactics learned from his gang days to defeat their foes. Only that small handful survived, and it was an experience that instilled a deep hatred for the Hutt into Doran.
After the incident with the Everlasting, Doran bummed around the outer Rim. Taking on odd jobs as smuggling crew, and piloting every now and then, honing his skills in keeping the hunks of junk alive while learning to become an accomplished pilot. He landed back on Nar Shaddaa and made a little home for himself there, etching out a meager existence for years before moving on. He came to know Vertical City as his second home.
At 23, Doran left Nar Shaddaa and landed on Tatooine after a smuggling run gone bad. He split from his crew, and after a few weeks of taking odd jobs, joined a Rebellion faction there, who were combating Hutt and criminal forces in Mos Eisley. They called themselves the Red Warriors. In the Red Warriors, Doran quickly distinguished himself as a member of leadership roles rather than a grunt to be thrown at the enemy. The rebellion faction came into possession of a Destroyer, and Doran was given command of the ship. Using it to blockade hutt smugglers, the Rich Divergent became a little-known symbol of hope.
During his time serving the Red Warriors, Doran led a raid group on a local group of spice smugglers, leading his troops into their den to clean them out. What they found was a Dark Jedi, and not just one of the Warrior types, one of the actual living, breathing, saber-toting, finger-wiggling types. The warrior put up a hell of a fight, showing off his use of the force by dispatching and either wounding or killing most of Doran's forces. In the end, all the smugglers lay dead or dying except the Dark Jedi, and all the Red Warriors were in the same condition except for Doran. The Dark Jedi had been wounded during the fight, but Doran was no match for him still. Using his vibro-sword that he received from his Captain on board the Everlasting, he attempted to engage the Dark Jedi. It was a quick fight that ended quickly and with Doran's neck being crushed by the force slowly and painfully, the life draining from him. feeling lost, and utterly powerless against this force, Doran started to black out until the sound of a blaster erupted and the pressure ceased. His leader, Rasho, had managed to bring the reserve assault force in the nick of time, and taken out the saber-slinger, giving the light saber to Doran for a trophy.
Ever since that day, Doran had grown a wariness for light sabers, a deep hatred and loathing of the sounds they made, and the lifeless hum they emitted. He also started garnering a sort of paranoia toward the force, taking little things into consideration from then on as to why things happened the way they did. He managed to build an awareness toward the more noticable affects the force could produce, able to spot it more readily than most. Where some would gawk as a box levitated, he would go into a defensive posture and seek the source of the force usage, for example.
At the age of 24 for Doran, the Red Warriors suffered greatly. Their charismatic leader, Rasho Neox, went on a mission of relief to a nearby planet and never returned. He was recorded as MIA, but the one thing that held the Red Warriors together had disappeared, and so the group fell to infighting and lack of cohesion. Doran took the Rich Divergent and hid it in a nearby scrap-dump, leaving it for another time. He dismissed his crew, and fell back into Tatooine. Falling to heavy drinking, Doran wandered the streets of Mos Eisley picking random fights, brandishing his old Captain’s custom Vibro-sword and losing fights, ending up more or less in the gutters on a good day, worse on a bad day. After this carried on, an old friend of his stepped in.
Cayce Urriah of Kata Aliit.
Cayce was a comrade of Doran’s. A Mandalorian who had fought alongside him in his efforts against Republic, hutt, and even Sith forces once before, despite the mistrust everyone placed on the Mandalorians. After finding her once-honorable and well-respected friend drunk and belligerent, she manhandled him and kicked his backside around. Taking his weapons away, and telling another of her members, and a man who would come to be great friends with Doran, William Hemata, to throw them into the sarlacc. Doran would get his weapons back when he could prove he was capable of standing upright and returning to his old self. After a week or so, Doran re-assessed himself and made a turn-around in his life.
Informing Cayce of his decisions, she patted him on the back and told Will to retrieve the weapons. Will ran into trouble, and Cayce had to get them herself. Will had taken a few hits, and they had to shuttle him out. The wounds weren’t too bad, but Cayce made the trip, with Doran, to Mandalore. Upon arrival, and after a bit of talking and deliberation, Doran was given an opportunity: To join the Mandalorian Clan Kata.
Doran accepted and took the culture fully into himself.
For the next few years, Doran would take on the name, “Vhe’tra Kata” After proving himself a worthy fighter, and a worthy pilot. Having spent time on Mandalore Prime learning how to work Beskar, Vhe'tra forged himself his armor, a custom armor that focused on forward-facing plates of armor with an under-layer that was sealed to the environment, as well as a bes’beviin(Iron spear) and a bes’kad(Curved, Iron saber), but those would come a bit later.
Doran rose in the ranks of Kata Aliit, though he didn’t care much for the titles. Mandalorians didn’t give too much thought to rank: Honor, respect, and reputation were more effective ways of earning command. Along his years in Kata, Will would become one of his closer vode, and together they’d spend time beating down idiots, and taking mercenary jobs where they wished. though he was always faithful and zealously carried out the Resol'nare, or six tenets of Mandalorian life.
A few years in, one of Doran’s close friends from his days in the Red Warriors was murdered on Coruscant, leaving an orphaned child behind. Doran immediately took her into his care, and under the Mandalorian laws, adopted her as Atin’la Skytower. Due to his father's abusive ways, he strives to be the man his father never was. Taking care of the child since she was nine years of age, he trained her to the best of his abilities to become a Mandalorian.
Ten years later, she is a full-grown adult and a Mandalorian all of her own, something of which Vhe'tra takes great pride in. After spending much of his time working for his clan, Vhe'tra earned himself a few medals. Kata being a clan of metallurgists, spies, and guerrilla tacticians, Vhe'tra learned much on the arts of Metallugry, forging himself his own beskar'gam, a bes'kad, and even a customized Bes'beviin - or Iron halberd. After the death of the clan's previous Alor'ad, or second-in-command that held their Captain rank, Vhe'tra was approached by Cayce and offered the position which he accepted immediately.
Setting out as quartermaster and caretaker for the small, but effective clan of Mandalorians, Vhe'tra was tasked with not only looking after, but raising and training many of the younger members while their parents were away earning credits for the clan. Vhe'tra himself relies on his reflexes and speed, along with intensive melee weapons training to outmanuever his foes rather than taking them on with brute force. He wittles his foes down with small, precise strikes in vital areas, using a duelist strategy and relying on resourcefulness, good planning, and his environment to take down those he cannot defeat with simple martial prowess.
Even today, he serves under Kebii'tra Kata, Cayce's daughter and heir to the Kata Clan's Leadership. Though he is sort of a figure that she herself looks up to, since he was offered the position and refused. At 34 years of age, he is still maintaining his weight and speed, though he never had much physical prowess and relied mostly on speed and superior tactics to defeat his foes, such is the way of Kata, which is why he felt so at home with them.
Password: Bylgia
RP Sample:
The Mandalorian’s visor was stained with spatters of blood that trickled down it slowly. He released his fist from around the trooper’s neck, watching the lifeless body fall away. His other hand was holding the bes’kad that was in the trooper’s stomach, and let it slide out of his gut, spraying blood onto his leg and waist. The rest of the troopers were stunned for a moment, giving the Mandalorian all the time he needed to whip out his Heavy Slug Thrower and end another man’s life. That spurred action from the remaining two, who drew their vibro blades and charged him as one. Doran took a step back to avoid a downward stroke, and then brought his bes’kad up to block the second attack. His fist flashed out across the chin of the second attacker, rocking him back. Before he could finish the kill, the first trooper made a lunge at his gut.
The vibro blade connected, but the veteran Mandalorian twisted his body to turn what would have been a plunged stab into a grazing blow that slid off of his beskar’gam neatly. Grabbing the blade of the attacker’s sword with his crushgaunt, he turned the finely-crafted blade into a piece of scrap metal and twisting his lower body further, then slashed across the man’s throat. Crimson arterial spray spattered the two remaining warriors as the trooper’s body fell to the ground, hands clutching at a wound that was already his doom.
Vhe’tra faced the last man who stood adamant with his sword. At this point a massive, black shadow enveloped the pair. Vhe’tra Kata never took his eyes off the trooper, but the trooper looked up in time to see Ani’ray – Vhe’tra’s massive, black basilisk War Droid descend upon him and tear him in half with beskar claws. The blood stained the black Ward Droid’s carapace and she chirped delightfully,
“Saved Dor’buir, elek? Jate, jate!” She chirped and Vhe’tra chuckled,
“Ori’jate ner vod. How goes the skies?”
“Many explosives and flying, angry missiles. I dodge and destroy. Not fun.” It chimed back before Vhe’tra hopped on her back and sheathed his saber. Around them anti-aircraft fire roared overhead as more Bes’uliike screamed through the skies, blasting emplacements and dodging SAMs.
The ground had a trench dug around the jedi fortress-temple in the center, where the Mandalorian lines were launching artillery to break down their defenses. In space, the Republic and Mandalorian fleets exchanged weapons fire and tore each other into slag. Vhe’tra drew his bes’beviin – a Beskar spear – and the duo roared into the sky,
“Will’ika, meet me by the fortress, we’re going in. Solus, this is Squad Ehn. We’re moving in.” he said over his comms,
“Elek, Ehn this is Solus. Go ahead for entry.” Replied command.
“Oi, vod. On your six, let’s kick some shebse.” Replied William Hemata, one of Doran’s closest buddies and clanmates,
“Oya Manda, ori’vod! Let’s show these aruetiise how to play!” responded Vhe’tra, quickly barking out orders,
“Squad Ehn, form on me! Bes’uliik calvalry! Charge! Kote darasuum!” he shouted as the calvalry from Squad Ehn fell into formation and they roared toward the Jedi temple…
