Ghul, a Givin of Yag’Dhul (Born in the year 77 BBY) was with the distinct cultural need to make use of his intellect. Among a species of mathematicians and astronomers, Ghul turned away from the stereotype. Among his own people his life with them was brief, having cordial relationships with family and acquaintances that came and went through the years. His own personal intellect was much more curious to test and study the biological designs in which the universe’s races came in.

His studies were rudimentary on Yag’Dhul for what he wanted, yet the keen integration of design and metalworking gave him the skillset to create nanomachinery, nanobots, which could be used to further his own intellectual agendas. Ghul took this knowledge, setting himself into the universe.

Being of his race, him venturing across the universe did not draw attention as he was assumed to be a passing intellectual. And he directed himself to Mandalor at the height of the Civil War. He was welcomed by Clan Bralor, taken by losses in the war were welcoming of what a Givin’s craft.

His first free studies upon subjects were the prisoners of war the Bralor Mandlaorians captured. In their screams he learned how to nuance his nanobots, deriving misery and studying the results of the warrior species. The bodies piled with how many he killed, coming to have deeper understanding of sentient biology. His works turned to enrichment rather than decimation, now understanding the building blocks and seeing how they could be built upon.

Ghul dove into the genetic code of Clan Bralor and modified them. The Clan became faster, stronger, more durable to the length of their civil war. And it came to Bralor’s favor, standing against even the greater clans. His work here was done, spreading from planet to planet studying the people’s through works in hospitals and laboratories. His reputation as a uniquely medically gifted Givin were giving him intellectual prestige.

Conflicts across the galaxy rose to a point, a new form of reaching government came, The Empire. It sought bold minds to serve it, Ghul was recruited and seduced with the lack of governmental restriction they would give his studies. Such freedom was a luxury he hadn’t had since Mandalor, and even then he had to restrain himself in order to not disturb the Bralors.

Many defiant people Ghul broke and dismembered from the cellular level. His patients were from across the galaxy, delivered to him. The dark laboratories of the Empire were his to soil and use as he wanted. Many of his patients died. And many gave away secrets that helped the Empire curb disruption precisely. The pale Givin was of great use, rising through the medical ranks of the Empire and became a respect asset of the great government.

And then they ordered him to facilitate the sterilization of the Genosians. Ghul didn’t study much of world politics or events, yet it followed the Clone Wars. His understanding didn’t matter, they fed him orders and bodies – he was to comply. Something inside the cruel physician change, or came into awareness – he wasn’t sure. But the scope of what he was commanded to do destroyed his view of the Empire and how he saw his own work. He wanted to study the universe, not take its pieces and then them null. Deaths happened in the name of science, but did not need to happen for the sake of politics.

The Ghul was well past his middle age years now, his life and his actions had buried him so deeply into the Empire there was never going to be a resolution or escape for him. He watched from datapad screens what happened to the Genosians following, and saw finally what the Empire had done to many species across the universe. He understood he was now permanently a part of this history. Somberly his life continued much the same, trying to find ways to change his fate.

In 1 BBY something unusual happened, he was given a young Zeltron. He never had one of the pink skinned race on his table before. It was strange, knowing now their favor with the rest of the more basic and primal oriented species. They were desired, something he didn’t feel much of. For his own reasons when he saw the Zeltron he saw an unusual means of escape.

**

Born in 21 BBY, Ahavis Vallen was a son of a Koris Vallen and Mora Vallen. Among the fun faring people of Zeltros, life was delightful, easy. While getting his Galactic Standard education he was also able to frolic and simply be among his other beautiful and fun-loving people. There was no hardship, endless pleasure and beauty worship.

When he was fifteen years old, he met an unusual human. A young man around his age but how he carried himself in Zeltros was different than my around him. It was intriguing, and after meeting in a park where the human had been quietly sitting, Ahavis began talking and bonding with him. With many relationships with Zeltrons, passions came fast. Mulio, the seventeen-year-old Human shared more than intended the closer they had become. Mulio had lived a very lonely life, taken as an orphan by a generous family on Ossus who had raised him but had to keep him hidden. He fled Mulio when he felt he was old enough to take care of himself, never wanting that brave family to suffer for what he did and had come to Zeltros as it was known as one of the best places in the galaxy to feel good. He was a Padawan who wanted to let go of his past and spend the rest of his years feeling the goods Zeltros had to offer.

This revealing shattered Ahavis’ carefree world. His deepest love was in many ways a fugitive of the Empire. The responsibility of that scared him but now he had already fallen for Mulio. He told his mother, who worried now for her son and what he was doing. The natural bond kept them close but Ahvis could feel differences in himself which pulled him away from his multi-lover ways and to Mulio. They shared much together in the year and a half they knew each other till suddenly Mulio was seen being hauled away by Stormtroopers. Their exchange of eyes and the nonverbal warning to keep quiet was all Ahavis had left to cling to questions of how they could happen.

The only person who he told about Mulio was his mother. That night he challenged her in anger very out of character and she admitted to what she had done – seeing it best for Ahavis’ interest that he was kept way from that boy. The spiral of emotions prepared Ahavis to foolheartedly run away from home and begin flirting and mingling with Stormtroopers in hopes of trying to see who knew the latest gossip, the gossip being the jedi the Empire had just taken from Zeltros. He asked too many questions, brought attention to himself from the Stormtroopers that funneled his name up the line of command and the teenager was brought in on suspicion.

When Ahavis came to he awoke on a cold metal table, and took in the sight of a Givin for the first time. It was horrifying and he screamed, slamming against his restraints. Ahavis’ life ended for Ghul had installed a memory chip in his mind of such volume the knowledge inside destroyed what memories he had prior.

Ghul had no choice but to put faith that his experimental operation would carry on his skills into the hands of someone who would serve against the Empire rather than for it. The Givin deleted the records of the Zeltron, and bribed Stormtroopers to haul the body to Corellia.

Hopeful, Ghul killed himself in his laboratory.

**

1 BBY Rokon was tossed in an alleyway of Corellia on the eve of night. Tossed aside and in a daze the young man felt him struck with horrible amnesia the disorder of his circumstances paralyzed him. Dazed, the passing of a Canthar woman security staff member found him.

Rokon woke in the woman’s home, quickly and naively sharing the understanding of his situation. Trust formed quickly for the strong and supportive Canthar. Sahura was her name, the first fact he learned since waking. From a sense of obligation and ignorance Sahura became his world, owing his life to her.

In the passing of a few weeks he was able to prove his medical knowledge, a strange gift for medicine he seemed to know without explanation. He tended to a wound she gained during a portal with great ability and professional of skill. Sahura, sewing new potential in this wayward Zeltron brought him with her on a more risky missions, culminating to their job on a spaceship.

It was attacked by rebels, the Canthar and Zeltron could hold their own as she fired and led them down the halls and he kept her at prime conditon. But eventually the duo was outmanned, surpassing the power of their synergy. Held hostage by the rebels, seeing the two aliens as neutral in the greater conflict were promised lengthy incarceration or allegiance to the alliance for they saw use in them.

Following Sahura’s lead, Rokon joined the Rebel cell which coincided well with his imposed hatred of the Empire and the foreboding message left on the Datapad which had been on his discarded body. The Empire was the enemy.

Service helped mature some of Rokon’s ignorance to the universe. The interstellar missions and risks making his young life filled with worry and thrill, purpose above all else. Then the tragedy of their cell being culled made it very clear that any sense of safety in their hopeful duty was thin.

Sahura suggested to continue the fight, Rokon and her feeling inseparable after their shared fearful mourning, they must go to Cantrell where they’d join a new cell.

Obligation Family 10: To Sahura for saving him, standing by him and reeducating him about the galaxy. Rokon will be indebted to her forever. (10)

Duty : 10 Personnel

Prestige Points: 4

Rokon’s appearance as a Zeltron would be as someone would expect when thinking of the species. A body naturally slender, effortlessly showing the markings of six pack abs, and attractively curved into a V shaped body with the sensuous creases that show off the skeletal design. Skin pink as the sweetest petals of Naboo’s field flowers, messily tossed loose curls of dark violet hair decorate his head as if he had rolled out of bed yet it still works on the Zeltron’s favor. Eyes a soft blue, shaped round but narrow giving him a slight mystique about his gaze. Brows clean and long, nose long and nostrils small, and dark full lips all rest on his face.

At first study, nothing appears wrong, that what is said about Zeltros and its people is astoundingly correct. But the details of Rokon’s burdened existence come into view the moment you meet those otherwise ‘perfect’ eyes. Deep seated bags hang from his young skin under the eyes. Deep folds which reach two finger’s width down and almost go to his cheekbones. Smaller lines tightly keep close to his eye. It is ghastly compared to the other features which exist almost to be admired. It yanks away the fantasy, some could perceive him to be sickly. The weight of his chronic exhaustion ties his sloppy hair and bed-yearning eyes together making a person not so easily taken in for selfish visual consumption.

(5’8”, 20 years old)