- Joined
- Feb 15, 2016
- Messages
- 16
- Reaction score
- 2
_SPECIES
__Human
_GENDER
__Male
_AGE
__29
_HEIGHT
__1.85 m
_BUILD
__Athletic
_HAIR COLOR
__Brown
_EYE COLOR
__Brown
_DISTINGUISHING MARKS
__None yet
_FORCE SENSITIVE
__Unknown
_HOMEWORLD
__Bandomeer
_ALLEGIANCE
__Ha'rangir's Chosen
_RANK
__TBD
_ROLE
__Hired Gun
_STARSHIP
__NX-3 Starfighter
_GEAR
__Blaster Rifle
__Mandalorian Armour
__vibro-knife
__F105 "Hound" Drone
_CREDITS
__1,000 Cr
_KILLS
__None
_NAME
__Cavalas Wren
_CALLSIGN
__N/A
_SKILLS
__Pilot stuff
__Repair stuff
__Kill stuff
_ROLEPLAYS
__Recon on the Hydian Way | Finished
__The Gulag | In Progress
__Flying Frogs and Tu'lips | In Progress
__Thread 3 | Inactive
__Template by Galavant
Cavalas Wren
THEME
THEME
No one expected the good-natured boy would ever follow in his father's wandering lifestyle. A Mandalorian by blood, citizen of Bandomeer by birth and a Defiant Squadron military training all accumulated to an irresistable urge to wander the Galaxy and find his own way. Nine years after resigning his commission with Gold Squadron, Cavalas has plied his training across the Galaxy in return for the means to survive and to continue his travels. Revealing to himself vital parts of his own identity while learning to excel in combat by seeking it out relentlessly in return for credits.
Biography Monologue
My father was an old man when he swallowed his pride as a Mandalorian raider and settled down near the Great Sea of Bandomeer to live in peace and make a living as a fisherman. He had long ago accepted the lonely fate of a nomad on the run for his responsibilities. His clan had been comfortable on Mandalore but the urge to travel and seek his own place in the Galaxy had made him restless and created a rift between him and his, causing him to find his own way doing odd jobs all through Republic space and the outer rim. There was little left from the culture he was brought up in, until he met my mother. She was thirty years younger and with her soft features and delicate frame not one you’d bet on to subdue a man from a warrior culture. It was through her stubbornness and dedication to integrate refugees despite the protests of other locals that she grew on my father and he in turn earned her affection by feeding the refugees with his fish.
It wasn’t until I was born a few years later that my father began to touch back to his Mandalorian roots as he placed much importance on my education as a warrior and slowly began to reconnect with his clan on Mandalore. When I was eight he started training me in fighting and survival in the Bandomeer landscape to prepare me for the verd’goten, but with still three years left to go with my training the Bandomeer government had thrust the planet into a bloody interplanetary war. Having found his place in the warrior culture again, my father joined the war effort at age 61 despite the desperate request of my mother not to do something that foolish. He promised that he’d continue our training when he’d be back, but the corpse that was returned nine months later couldn’t teach me anything. My mother’s grief ultimately led her into the arms of a man more her age who worked as an independent mechanic repairing civilian speeders in his own garage. He was glad to have me to lighten his workload and over the course of several years the teachings of my father’s culture ebbed away until I came of age to join the military. It was my sixteenth birthday, pretty sure it was also the same hour of the day I was born, that I enlisted.
Few months later I was thrust into the conflict and fired my rifle for the first time under the flag of the Dillawaire company. It was on Concorda where I 'popped my cherry' so to say. A violent insurgency had occured and Bandomeer send the Dillawaire company to support their Mandalorian allies. I still don't quite understand how I survived the landing after an artillary unit shot down our shuttle while better men perished. No amounts of training could've prepared me for that day, but with the reassuring help of a Mandalorian warrior I managed to pull my part. It was here that my father’s lessons started to come back and gave me the edge I needed to survive my first real battle. After that I found myself in somewhat of a rollercoaster. Captain Dillawaire took notice of me and send me to the Acadamy for Officer training. Not just any Officer training, mind you, but one that would put me into a starfighter. Two years of intense training and preparation lead to my graduation last month. As I was at the top of my class I was given the spot in Defiance Squadron and am currently still stationed on Mandalore.
After a recon mission on Serenno I've realized the real world, or more specific the larger Galaxy, is an unknown to me. Holo-books and a sheltered living made me think I understood my own life and those of others, but I have never been more wrong in my life. To find the truth, I've resigned my commission in the Bandomeer Airforce and Border Alliance's Defiance Squadron and decided to find my roots. I know my father had long ago realized he had to make a similar journey, so I started with him, his family, his clan and his people. The Mandalorian people however provided me no answers besides tales of war proudly told by those that had not fought in the battles themselves. After eleven months of being a Mandalorian on planet Mandalore I've had enough of the farming communities and Border Alliance propaganda and decided to venture out into the Rim.
That was eight years ago and since my departure from Republic space I've met many interesting sentient and droid personalities. The Galaxy proved to be so much richer than I could ever have conceived back on Bandomeer and Mandalore. They are just minor dots on the gigantic map that's charted space with all its diversity, all its shifting morals and cultures. What was intrinsically good on Bandomeer is considered an insult to the native people of Naboo, but its not just the cultures that are different, it's the planets themselves and the way people adapt to it until their very essence has been altered. I find it fascinating yet at the same time it also frightens me. For all its diversity there's still one thing that rules all the charted regions and that's credits. Monetary exchanges that begin and end on the Core worlds like a plague spreading and even worse that's winning the minds of the sentients over that of their planets. Robbing it of its wealth in order to satisfy basic consumer needs. But that isn't what disgusts me. What disgusts me is the person that protects the plaguebearers while they continue to manipulate and destroy. What disgusts me is my own role in that moral decay as I am the hired gun that shields him with my body, the pilot that flies him to his new victim and ultimately the greedy fool who has long since sold himself for a heap of credits.
Personality
Cavalas has never quite bothered with understanding the politics behind war, but learned from both his parents that there are things that are worth fighting for. For his father it was a sense of duty, for his mother it was because it was the right thing to do and for Cavalas it is both. Greatly admiring skill, he strives for excellence in his chosen fields yet will not pursue the career of a warrior for the sake of being one. As he’s not a Mandalorian like his father was, Cavalas feels the strong roots of his homeworld and truly beliefs that he belongs on Bandomeer. His shortlived military career as such was not focused around the quickest way to advance through the ranks or to find glory in the worst battlefields in Galactic history, but merely to fight what he believed in, and that's a peaceful coexistence. He had no personal animosity against the Sith or their grunts from a sense of ideology but instead bases his actions on whether or not his enemy operates from the same set of standards as he's accustomed to. As such he'd despise unfair treatment of refugees of various sentients and respects a warrior that refuses to surrender.
Young and inexperienced in life, Cavalas was overwhelmed by the hard reality of military life. A talent for flying starships the Border Alliance had been quick to stick a label on him in an attempt to provide the war effort with dogfighters worth their salt, but for Cavalas that meant a hard realization. The mannerisms that had been drilled into him by the drill sergeants did not actually apply to military life and just the mere glimpse of the wider Galaxy outside his homeworld of Bandomeer had his head spinning. To keep his sanity it left him with no other option but to leave the Border Alliance.
As a hired gun he has managed to get his head straight again and have his priorities in order. In many things, although he might be unaware of it, he had modelled himself into the traditional image of a Mandalorian warrior like his father.
Appearance
You know that new guy that always does his homework and raises his hand when he knows the answer? That was Cavalas. He stood out because he was the only one following the rules and regulations to the letter. In the last eight years he abandoned all those rules and regulations, relying instead on instinct. The blue and gold on his armor have already faded slighty and his eyes look unsatiated.
His Mandalorian CCT Armour has the following added features; jetpack, hold out blaster on right gauntlet and a grappling hook on left gauntlet. The hook shoots from the wrist as a sharp blade and extents a few moments after getting fired.
Mission Logbook
After action reports from Cavalas’ POV
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