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Vardek Rotall Kelborn
.
NAME: Vardek Rotall Kelborn
AGE: 44
SPECIES: Human
FACTION:Republic
RANK:Lieutenant or Captain
HOMEWORLD: Concord Dawn
HEIGHT: 6’-6”
WEIGHT: 225 Ibs
HAIR COLOR: Blonde; Greying
EYE COLOR: Blue
STRENGTH: 8/10
DEXTERITY: 6/10
STAMINA: 8/10
INTELLIGENCE: 7/10
WISDOM: 9/10
CHARISMA: 6/10
True to form by way of tradition, Vardek sports a set of heavily customized
CCT armor. Customizations include:
1x Wrist-mounted Flame Thrower on the right gauntlet.
1x Wrist-mounted vibroblade on the right gauntlet.
1x Wrist-mounted rocket launcher on the left gauntlet.
1x Wrist-mounted energized stun emitter on the left gauntlet.
Also has a jetpack mounted on the back plate of his armor.
Since joining the GAR, the coloration of his armor has since changed to the standardized color scheme of the GAR's elite special forces.
By way of external weaponry, his typical loadout includes:
1x MP-FRAB-22 Blaster Rifle
2x B-8R Blaster Pistols
1x SA-21 Sunspear Blaster Pistol
2x Vibroblades
He also owns a heavily modified Gunship (writeup pending) to which he uses to facilitate his work as a bounty hunter and mercenary.
To understand what it means to be a Mandalorian is to understand the conflict that forms the essence of their very existence. Particularly those who hail from Concord Dawn. Prior to Mandalore’s inclusion into the Republic (along with her subsequent colonies), her proud people were feared throughout the galaxy for their martial prowess forged in blood and hardship. To have the honor of calling yourself a Mandalorian was more than just stating your ethnicity. It was a heritage that immediately made you more dangerous upon someone learning of it. At least, that’s how it used to be.
Now, many criticize those who support the Republic and what it stands for, namely freedom and equality for all, with some of the more vocal dissidents being Mandalorians. Imagine what it would be like for a Mandalorian who didn’t agree for the growing disenchantment: for a man who actually believed that the Republic was what Mandalore needed, instead of blaming them for all of their problems. Only with this knowledge can one understand who Vardek Kelborn truly is. Throughout his life, he has done more than enough to live up to his Clan name, Clan Kelborn being an ancient line of loyal and fierce warriors.
Ever since he could wear armor and carry a blaster, he remembered traversing dense, marshy swamplands, parched wastes, blistering deserts and near unbearable tundras. It made him harder and stronger, and he became the better for it. He remembers every single operation he was on, and every life he has taken… including the lives he took on one brief but explosive conflict in particular on Concord Dawn.
Shortly before the formation of the Border Alliance, and when the Sith Brotherhood reared its ugly head, a separatist movement had gained momentum on Concord Dawn following the failed rebellion of Clan Genet: one of the many conflicts the ironically named planet suffered around the same old premise. He was younger then, and was eager to take up arms in the defense of Mandalore, and under the aspirations of gaining honor unto himself. The separatists had taken to the marshes, and after Mandalore and those loyal on Concord Dawn had mobilized, they were to push them out.
Months of hard fighting had erupted, turning into almost a year of crawling through the mud and fighting literally tooth and nail every day. One foe in particular had almost gained the mastery over him, knowing almost miraculously how to counter Vardek’s form as they wrestled in the mud for what seemed like hours. He had almost lost his life twice in the struggle, until he was able to drive his blade into the mesh that protected his opponent’s throat. His body fell limp, and it wasn’t until Vardek had removed his foe’s helmet that he himself nearly died a third time.
The strong and young face of his younger brother lay frozen in the marshes, with his cold and lifeless eyes staring up at him. As the rain began to pour and wash the mud off of his armor, it was then that Vardek recognized the distinctive markings of Markus’s armor. ’ If only it had been sooner.’ Vardek thought to himself, giving way to tears behind the safety of his helmet. It was not his way to show weakness. It wasn’t the Kelborn way. But none of that mattered now. His brother lay lifeless in his arms, and there was no way he could take it back. Duty felt hollow to him. Right and wrong became subjective to him.
After the rebellion had been crushed, Vardek went away into a self imposed exile out into the wilds of Concord Dawn. He lived off the land and engaged in countless hours of self reflection about what life as a Mandalorian meant, and how he could reconcile this with his humanity and his ingrained sense of duty. In the eyes of his people, he did nothing wrong. He fought for his Mandalore, and helped crush yet another rebellion. But how could he justify fighting against his brothers? Mandalorians were once a proud people that struck fear in others. How far had they fallen when the days had come in which they had to kill each other?
It wasn’t until the Sith made themselves known some years later that he broke his self assumed exile and had begun to accept what he must do. It wasn’t Mandalore’s fault that his brother died, nor was it the fault of the Republic or some other external source. It was his own. He made the choice, unwittingly or not, the day he answered the call and marched into those swamplands. He had to carry the burden with him for the rest of his life, even if that meant never fully getting past it. During this crucial moment of acceptance, his father had visited him.
A threat was upon them, a threat from a formidable foe. The call had been sent out yet again from his father, and from his Mand’alor. And this time, it was against a foe that actually deserved it. So Vardek enlisted formally into the Border Alliance, the promising coalition of Outer Rim worlds making great strides in defending the front from Sith incursion. He fought hard for several years within the BA's ranks, rising in rank prestige until one fateful engagement on Seleucami.
While not within the Republic, the Border Alliance was in the process trying to convince the planetary government to join the coalition in the interests of mutual protection and support. To further such efforts, a small team of soldiers from the Border Alliance were on dispatch as a show of good faith – or moreso, to serve as an example of what the government could expect should it lend its support to the Border Alliance. And then the Sith came.
The Sith attack of the planet was sudden, and brutally savage. Vardek, then a Captain within the Border Alliance, was in command of roughly two-dozen Mandoa commandos on the planet. They had endeavored to hold off Sith forces as they converged on a small village just outside of the capital of the planet. At first, their defense appeared to be successful, until the overwhelming numbers of the Sith forces began to overtake them. He could hear the screams of women and children as they were caught in the crossfire enveloping them, the whine of blaster fire filling the air as him and his men desperately tried to suppress the invading forces, and the sounds of flame devouring the forestry around him.
He was wounded as him, the rest of his team, and what suvivors had yet to evacuate rushed to the last transport out of the area. The craft took off without him, and his team didn't even look back as he was left for dead in the wake of the encroaching inferno. He did not give up though, even in the face of what appeared to be impossible odds to evade capture, or to even survive. But survive he did, using his field training and sheer will to creep through the burning forest, nursing a severe injury to his leg in the process. He eventually happened upon a Sith transport that served to provide supplies for the Sith destruction teams.
Even in his injured state, Vardek was able to board the craft and eliminate the crew without drawing much attention, further able to secure his way off of the planet. After he put in the codes to a way-station in the outer rim, ambled to the small medbay on board the shuttle and allowed himself to get patched as best as possible. His wounds necessitated the expertise of a full med bay, but at least he wouldn't die in transit. That was the hope, at least, as he passed out from a mixture of exhaustion and blood loss. The next thing he remembered was his naked body floating in a bacta tank, with a right leg no longer where it should be. Come to find out, his shuttle made it to the orbital station at New Holstice, and it was the medical droid of all beings that called for immediate help over the ship comm. Apparently its loyalties were, as intended, to the well-being of those on board the craft. With its crew dead, Vardek had assumed that role according to the droid's protocols.
Weeks passed by, with Vardek making as full a recovery as a man can without one of his legs. He was fitted with a cybernetic leg, which necessitated another few weeks of rehabilitation to grow accustomed to moving around. At first, it was cumbersome and foreign, yet he soon found the uses outweighed the disadvantages of a cybernetic limb. In fact, he rather favored it over time. Naturally this was not a cheap visit to the med bay, and it took nearly all of his earnings in service to the Border Alliance to pay the bill. While he was mended physically, mentally, he was altogether broken. He was forced to come to terms with his mortality, and more importantly how the 'system' failed him yet again. His thoughts drifted back to the fateful day over a decade previous wherein he took the life of his brother. The cold, lifeless eyes of his brother stared back at him, with a look of fierce determination forever carved on his face. It seemed to Vardek that no matter how much he tried to do the right thing, he ended up making things worse for either himself, or for those he loved in some form or fashion. Despite his best efforts on Seleucami, hundreds of thousands of innocents had died. No matter how much he tried to come to terms with it, his brother would still be dead.
He had reached rock-bottom at this point in his life – penniless, and in the eyes of everyone he loved, a dead man. He sold the Sith shuttle that faithfully carried him here, except for the droid. He owed the droid a debt, even if it was programmed to do what it did. Plus, whether it was by some quirk in its programming or otherwise, it bore a strange personality that, for good or ill, appealed to whatever sense of humanity remained within Vardek. With the credits received from the shuttle's sale, Vardek set about acquiring passage off-station and forging a new existence for himself. Several years passed, with the Mandalorian making a name for himself as a mercenary and a bounty hunter. In time, the truth of his actually being alive would reach the higher ups of the Border Alliance, which was sequentially reformed into the Grand Army of the Republic. What resulted was an 'Honorable' Discharge, courtesy of his father due to the injuries he sustained in the field of battle. A gift from a relic of his past. It made little difference to him. While he didn't blame his father for the fate that befell him, he no longer felt a sense of loyalty to the life he left behind. He was his own man yet again, in the prime of his life with a name for himself, and he didn't need a piece of paper to validate his sacrifices and – more importantly – his honor.
During his years of mercenary work, he had acquired quite the sum of credits, to which end he purchased a heavily modified gunship off the black market (tech writeup pending), which allows him to engage in his chosen profession.
In more recent developments, the Sacking of Coruscant has reawoken something within Vardek. While the Republic is by no means perfect, and has many glaring flaws within it, it serves as a shining example of what could be. If the Galaxy ceded to Sith rule, Vardek could only imagine how many misguided and blood thirsty young men would opt to join their cause to satiate their bloodlust. Such warfare would not be honorable, considering the methods the Brotherhood has since resorted to.
With this newfound thought process racking Vardek's mind, he had decided to once again sign on with the GAR as an official soldier within their ranks. His logic is simple: With the Republic in power, he can have the freedom to do as he wishes. Without them, the future is not so certain...
AGE: 44
SPECIES: Human
FACTION:Republic
RANK:Lieutenant or Captain
HOMEWORLD: Concord Dawn
HEIGHT: 6’-6”
WEIGHT: 225 Ibs
HAIR COLOR: Blonde; Greying
EYE COLOR: Blue
STRENGTH: 8/10
DEXTERITY: 6/10
STAMINA: 8/10
INTELLIGENCE: 7/10
WISDOM: 9/10
CHARISMA: 6/10
Equipment
True to form by way of tradition, Vardek sports a set of heavily customized
CCT armor. Customizations include:
1x Wrist-mounted Flame Thrower on the right gauntlet.
1x Wrist-mounted vibroblade on the right gauntlet.
1x Wrist-mounted rocket launcher on the left gauntlet.
1x Wrist-mounted energized stun emitter on the left gauntlet.
Also has a jetpack mounted on the back plate of his armor.
Since joining the GAR, the coloration of his armor has since changed to the standardized color scheme of the GAR's elite special forces.
By way of external weaponry, his typical loadout includes:
1x MP-FRAB-22 Blaster Rifle
2x B-8R Blaster Pistols
1x SA-21 Sunspear Blaster Pistol
2x Vibroblades
He also owns a heavily modified Gunship (writeup pending) to which he uses to facilitate his work as a bounty hunter and mercenary.
Biography
To understand what it means to be a Mandalorian is to understand the conflict that forms the essence of their very existence. Particularly those who hail from Concord Dawn. Prior to Mandalore’s inclusion into the Republic (along with her subsequent colonies), her proud people were feared throughout the galaxy for their martial prowess forged in blood and hardship. To have the honor of calling yourself a Mandalorian was more than just stating your ethnicity. It was a heritage that immediately made you more dangerous upon someone learning of it. At least, that’s how it used to be.
Now, many criticize those who support the Republic and what it stands for, namely freedom and equality for all, with some of the more vocal dissidents being Mandalorians. Imagine what it would be like for a Mandalorian who didn’t agree for the growing disenchantment: for a man who actually believed that the Republic was what Mandalore needed, instead of blaming them for all of their problems. Only with this knowledge can one understand who Vardek Kelborn truly is. Throughout his life, he has done more than enough to live up to his Clan name, Clan Kelborn being an ancient line of loyal and fierce warriors.
Ever since he could wear armor and carry a blaster, he remembered traversing dense, marshy swamplands, parched wastes, blistering deserts and near unbearable tundras. It made him harder and stronger, and he became the better for it. He remembers every single operation he was on, and every life he has taken… including the lives he took on one brief but explosive conflict in particular on Concord Dawn.
Shortly before the formation of the Border Alliance, and when the Sith Brotherhood reared its ugly head, a separatist movement had gained momentum on Concord Dawn following the failed rebellion of Clan Genet: one of the many conflicts the ironically named planet suffered around the same old premise. He was younger then, and was eager to take up arms in the defense of Mandalore, and under the aspirations of gaining honor unto himself. The separatists had taken to the marshes, and after Mandalore and those loyal on Concord Dawn had mobilized, they were to push them out.
Months of hard fighting had erupted, turning into almost a year of crawling through the mud and fighting literally tooth and nail every day. One foe in particular had almost gained the mastery over him, knowing almost miraculously how to counter Vardek’s form as they wrestled in the mud for what seemed like hours. He had almost lost his life twice in the struggle, until he was able to drive his blade into the mesh that protected his opponent’s throat. His body fell limp, and it wasn’t until Vardek had removed his foe’s helmet that he himself nearly died a third time.
The strong and young face of his younger brother lay frozen in the marshes, with his cold and lifeless eyes staring up at him. As the rain began to pour and wash the mud off of his armor, it was then that Vardek recognized the distinctive markings of Markus’s armor. ’ If only it had been sooner.’ Vardek thought to himself, giving way to tears behind the safety of his helmet. It was not his way to show weakness. It wasn’t the Kelborn way. But none of that mattered now. His brother lay lifeless in his arms, and there was no way he could take it back. Duty felt hollow to him. Right and wrong became subjective to him.
After the rebellion had been crushed, Vardek went away into a self imposed exile out into the wilds of Concord Dawn. He lived off the land and engaged in countless hours of self reflection about what life as a Mandalorian meant, and how he could reconcile this with his humanity and his ingrained sense of duty. In the eyes of his people, he did nothing wrong. He fought for his Mandalore, and helped crush yet another rebellion. But how could he justify fighting against his brothers? Mandalorians were once a proud people that struck fear in others. How far had they fallen when the days had come in which they had to kill each other?
It wasn’t until the Sith made themselves known some years later that he broke his self assumed exile and had begun to accept what he must do. It wasn’t Mandalore’s fault that his brother died, nor was it the fault of the Republic or some other external source. It was his own. He made the choice, unwittingly or not, the day he answered the call and marched into those swamplands. He had to carry the burden with him for the rest of his life, even if that meant never fully getting past it. During this crucial moment of acceptance, his father had visited him.
A threat was upon them, a threat from a formidable foe. The call had been sent out yet again from his father, and from his Mand’alor. And this time, it was against a foe that actually deserved it. So Vardek enlisted formally into the Border Alliance, the promising coalition of Outer Rim worlds making great strides in defending the front from Sith incursion. He fought hard for several years within the BA's ranks, rising in rank prestige until one fateful engagement on Seleucami.
While not within the Republic, the Border Alliance was in the process trying to convince the planetary government to join the coalition in the interests of mutual protection and support. To further such efforts, a small team of soldiers from the Border Alliance were on dispatch as a show of good faith – or moreso, to serve as an example of what the government could expect should it lend its support to the Border Alliance. And then the Sith came.
The Sith attack of the planet was sudden, and brutally savage. Vardek, then a Captain within the Border Alliance, was in command of roughly two-dozen Mandoa commandos on the planet. They had endeavored to hold off Sith forces as they converged on a small village just outside of the capital of the planet. At first, their defense appeared to be successful, until the overwhelming numbers of the Sith forces began to overtake them. He could hear the screams of women and children as they were caught in the crossfire enveloping them, the whine of blaster fire filling the air as him and his men desperately tried to suppress the invading forces, and the sounds of flame devouring the forestry around him.
He was wounded as him, the rest of his team, and what suvivors had yet to evacuate rushed to the last transport out of the area. The craft took off without him, and his team didn't even look back as he was left for dead in the wake of the encroaching inferno. He did not give up though, even in the face of what appeared to be impossible odds to evade capture, or to even survive. But survive he did, using his field training and sheer will to creep through the burning forest, nursing a severe injury to his leg in the process. He eventually happened upon a Sith transport that served to provide supplies for the Sith destruction teams.
Even in his injured state, Vardek was able to board the craft and eliminate the crew without drawing much attention, further able to secure his way off of the planet. After he put in the codes to a way-station in the outer rim, ambled to the small medbay on board the shuttle and allowed himself to get patched as best as possible. His wounds necessitated the expertise of a full med bay, but at least he wouldn't die in transit. That was the hope, at least, as he passed out from a mixture of exhaustion and blood loss. The next thing he remembered was his naked body floating in a bacta tank, with a right leg no longer where it should be. Come to find out, his shuttle made it to the orbital station at New Holstice, and it was the medical droid of all beings that called for immediate help over the ship comm. Apparently its loyalties were, as intended, to the well-being of those on board the craft. With its crew dead, Vardek had assumed that role according to the droid's protocols.
Weeks passed by, with Vardek making as full a recovery as a man can without one of his legs. He was fitted with a cybernetic leg, which necessitated another few weeks of rehabilitation to grow accustomed to moving around. At first, it was cumbersome and foreign, yet he soon found the uses outweighed the disadvantages of a cybernetic limb. In fact, he rather favored it over time. Naturally this was not a cheap visit to the med bay, and it took nearly all of his earnings in service to the Border Alliance to pay the bill. While he was mended physically, mentally, he was altogether broken. He was forced to come to terms with his mortality, and more importantly how the 'system' failed him yet again. His thoughts drifted back to the fateful day over a decade previous wherein he took the life of his brother. The cold, lifeless eyes of his brother stared back at him, with a look of fierce determination forever carved on his face. It seemed to Vardek that no matter how much he tried to do the right thing, he ended up making things worse for either himself, or for those he loved in some form or fashion. Despite his best efforts on Seleucami, hundreds of thousands of innocents had died. No matter how much he tried to come to terms with it, his brother would still be dead.
He had reached rock-bottom at this point in his life – penniless, and in the eyes of everyone he loved, a dead man. He sold the Sith shuttle that faithfully carried him here, except for the droid. He owed the droid a debt, even if it was programmed to do what it did. Plus, whether it was by some quirk in its programming or otherwise, it bore a strange personality that, for good or ill, appealed to whatever sense of humanity remained within Vardek. With the credits received from the shuttle's sale, Vardek set about acquiring passage off-station and forging a new existence for himself. Several years passed, with the Mandalorian making a name for himself as a mercenary and a bounty hunter. In time, the truth of his actually being alive would reach the higher ups of the Border Alliance, which was sequentially reformed into the Grand Army of the Republic. What resulted was an 'Honorable' Discharge, courtesy of his father due to the injuries he sustained in the field of battle. A gift from a relic of his past. It made little difference to him. While he didn't blame his father for the fate that befell him, he no longer felt a sense of loyalty to the life he left behind. He was his own man yet again, in the prime of his life with a name for himself, and he didn't need a piece of paper to validate his sacrifices and – more importantly – his honor.
During his years of mercenary work, he had acquired quite the sum of credits, to which end he purchased a heavily modified gunship off the black market (tech writeup pending), which allows him to engage in his chosen profession.
In more recent developments, the Sacking of Coruscant has reawoken something within Vardek. While the Republic is by no means perfect, and has many glaring flaws within it, it serves as a shining example of what could be. If the Galaxy ceded to Sith rule, Vardek could only imagine how many misguided and blood thirsty young men would opt to join their cause to satiate their bloodlust. Such warfare would not be honorable, considering the methods the Brotherhood has since resorted to.
With this newfound thought process racking Vardek's mind, he had decided to once again sign on with the GAR as an official soldier within their ranks. His logic is simple: With the Republic in power, he can have the freedom to do as he wishes. Without them, the future is not so certain...
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