AGE
► 33
SPECIES
► Human
HEIGHT
► 6'1"
WEIGHT
► 172
EYE COLOR
► Green
HAIR COLOR
► Brown
HOMEWORLD
► Montitia
GENDER
► M
FACTION
► Independent
RANK
► Captain
FORCE SENSITIVITY
► No
BIOGRAPHY
When Golissan was born in the uppermost level of Carbon Furnace Complex 47-J it was held as a semi-formal fief by Baron Golissan Dorou GasVartan the Second IV, and so in accordance with the custom Golissan was his given name, as it was for all other boys in the complex. His parents - a shift manager and habitation ward - named him Lorpal after his uncle, who was in turn named after some long-dead ancestor. A tremendously shy and polite child, he performed well in Complex Basic Education until a fit of cloud sickness left him bedridden and then after mildly asthmatic.
After a dispensation from the complex master, the sickly child was sent to live and study with his uncle and namesake, Fornau Lorpal Marsus, one of the baron's chargé d'affaires. In the domed palace the young Lorpal Hellier's condition and education dramatically improved. Upon the completion of his intermediate studies, Baron Golissan himself commended the boy's uncle for pulling him out of squalor. Wasted in the pits, the baron had said. As true as it was banal.
With the onset of adulthood and more independent studies, Lorpal's uncle introduced him to the real reason for their coming together: The Hand of the Emperor. Lorpal was more than a shared name, it was a throwback, a dog-whistle, a reference to a long forgotten past. The original Lorpal Hellier - and those were his only names, for in those days there were no barons on Montitia - had been a peerless warrior, a great commander of men. He captained a star destroyer, a ship so large it would stupify even a man like Baron Golissan, and he had done so for one singularly great man: The Emperor.
There were, of course, men who still claimed that title. Petty tyrants and naive fools, but even they knew they were not The Emperor. There had only, and would ever only, be one. It was his death at the hands of traitors and rebels that had thrown worlds like Montitia into ruin, as it had for so many other worlds. It was The Emperor who had kept the dacadent and corrupt from power, who had safeguarded the common man, and that was why now, in dome-palaces across the planet, men conspired to raise someone like that to power. That was the business of the Hand of the Emperor, reaching out of the past, and that was Lorpal's purpose as well, if he would take it.
His studies, carefully guided in hindsight, continued, and Lorpal had become learned not only in subjects of mundane importance, but in the tenants of the New Order and the means needed to spread them. The Hand of the Emperor was a future for decent people, his parents, his friends, who had spent so long under the yoke of the Dust Barons. That fact alone, naturally, made them targets. On the eve of their greatest effort, the coup that would begin a revolution on Montitia, the barons struck.
They called it the Day of Open Doors afterwards, because once the revolutionaries had been flushed out most palace rooms stood empty, their doors open. Lorpal's uncle had been one of the first to die, beaten by thr baron's guards until he was paralyzed, then shot on the palace steps. Of all the comrades he had known, the friends and allies, only two dozen survived, and under his uncertain leadership fled Montitia. The Hand of the Emperor had reached out of the shadows, only to be swatted away. If nothing else, they were free. The New Order reigned supreme, even if only over a stolen freighter.
Personality
"A man does not find his path to greatness," the Emperor was supposed to have said. "He must make it for himself."
Older members of the Hand delighted in teasing him for the banality of it, but Lorpal knew better than most the kind of truth that hid in banal platitudes. Others recited Moff Bolian, quoted Greejatus, or even recounted the Life of Tarkin, but he understood. It was simple, beyond ambition, beyond pride, ego; the galaxy needed a great man, and the responsibility was his to become such a man. Determined, practical, and a true believer. None other better suited to the task.
Skills
His tutelage with the Hand of the Emperor only broadened his horizons. He rhetoric was honed, understanding of history and culture corrected, knowledge of military practicals and theoreticals established, and the tenets of the New Order enshrined. A decent shot with a blaster, a passable tactician, and a leader with enthusiasm and conviction if nothing else, Lorpal is what the Hand of the Emperor made him to be, for better or for worse.
Equipment
+ Stolen Itinerant Class Freighter
+ Montitian Palatial Attire
+ A Second Edition Copy of 'Quotations From the Mouth of Our Emperor'
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