Personality:

Dotan has been working hard not to be the opinionated, arrogant man he was before his life took an unexpected turn seven years ago. He tries his best to stay in control of his emotions at any time, believing that to be the path to enlightenment. He has eschewed material possessions entirely, reasoning that even at a time when he had all the credits he could ever spend, he was the most miserable he has ever been in his life. He tries to live a more spiritual life now, focusing on how everything is interconnected to the living Force and how the actions of one being can affect another without the two ever meeting.

Although he has accepted to be trained as a Jedi with Luke Skywalker, he privately has doubts about the teachings of his new master. He has found balance in his life of seclusion and meditation and wonders if the focus on pitting the light side of the Force against the dark side in a conflict between the Jedi and the Sith might not be a good model for the future and that perhaps a more balanced approach is needed inside each individual Force-user.


Backstory:

Dotan had just barely crawled into the ravine when the storm hit. He had known it was coming for about five minutes, but he had underestimated the time it would take to climb up to safety. In the highlands the storms become harder to predict, which explained why most of the inhabitants on the rocky moon of Iktotch lived in the lowlands where the precognitive abilities of the Iktotchi usually gave them plenty of time to seek shelter before the winds picked up enough to shower the stout buildings with sand and gravel.

The tall Iktotchi slowly walked deeper into the ravine, wrapping his scarf over his mouth and nose. The wind might not be able to pummel him in here, but the dust blown up by the gale was thick in the air. He finally settled on a place to sit down and wait out the storm, knowing he’d have quite a while to wait. In his mind he could already see the storm dying down to a brisk breeze, but that would not happen for several hours yet.

He knelt on a patch of dirt, settling in one of the meditative positions he had learned from the Pilori-Monks. He leaned forward, putting the palms of his hands on the ground and pushed himself up, stretching out his legs as he lifted them from the ground. As he slipped into a meditative trance in a position most humanoids would be unable to hold for longer than a minute or two, he could feel the present, past and future churning, melding into one.

For a while he saw himself hiking up to the Pilori-Monastery six years ago. He was barely recognizable as the same person. A polite man might have said that his younger self had been pudgy. He was long past being polite with himself and acknowledged freely that he had been borderline obese after years of opulence. Even the year he had spent in prison hadn’t managed to put much of a dent in the reserves his body had built up over years where he had little to no self control.

His younger self huffed and puffed as he hiked up the treacherous path up to the plateau, only his sheer determination keeping him going when his body was screaming for him to stop. His older and wiser self could easily see that the driving force of his young self was equal measure self-loathing and the desire to leave his past behind him. He could feel muscles his younger self didn’t know he possessed, his lean body held aloft effortlessly as he meditated.

As his past came into better focus he could see himself in the Umi-Can club in the top floor of the UmicCom-building on Corucant. Younger than before. Back when he thought he had life figured out, soon after he started working in the transgalactic financial conglomerate his father and grandfather had built up.

As he shifted his position in the current time, standing vertically on his head, using his hands to support himself, he could only feel disappointment over the choices his younger self was making as he watched him. The escorts, spice, alcohol and partying had made it seem like he was at the top of the world. When in reality, he was getting close to hitting rock bottom.

But he didn’t hit that bottom for almost two years. Not until the Empire fell to the tiny band of rebels, exposing how UmicCom had been financing the military buildup for almost twenty years. Dotan had never really had to work much for the enormous salary he took home, so he didn’t know how deep in the company was with the Empire. If he had, he doubted he would have been smart enough to suggest diversification of the assets to escape the financial meltdown that the company went through after the rebel fleet destroyed the second Death Star, killed the Emperor and his right hand man, Darth Vader.

His father had blamed himself. He had been so certain that his precognitive abilities would allow him to see such dangers in advance and when it became apparent he was about to lose everything, he had taken his own life. In the swirls of time, Dotan of the present saw his younger self entering his father’s office, after hearing a single blaster shot, only to find his father dead at his desk, the back of his head a ruined waste of grey tissue and burnt flesh. After spending nine years at his homeworld he now realizes just how much the precognitive abilities of his species depend on the proximity to the moon it originated from. How his father’s decision to live in Coruscant had dulled his senses.

Dotan had been one of the lucky ones. The Republic that arose on the ruins of the Empire wasn’t out for revenge. Besides, what UnicCom had done financing the Empire had been immoral, but it hadn’t been illegal. But it brought scrutiny over the failing company. Scrutiny it could ill afford. The embezzling, bribes and other illegal activities were quickly exposed.

As he slowly let his feet touch the ground again, Dotan in the present lowered himself down on his knees, stretching backwards with his hands in front of him. As he assumed a new position, he could see his younger self in the courtroom as the sentence was read out. Accessory to bribery. A year in prison. His older brother and sister were not so lucky. Both were sentenced to twenty years of hard labor for a list of crime that took almost twenty minutes to read out.

Dotan shifted a little. He had been over his past so many times. Master Tauman told him he had to revisit his past if he wanted to be at peace with his presence, and he dutifully obeyed. He moved forward now, leaning onto his hands but staying on his knees for now. As he moved, so did the time swirling all around him.

Suddenly he was no longer in the known, safe territory of the past or present. The future was always harder to understand, and the glimpses he usually saw were just that, glimpses that were hard to comprehend. But now, as the storm raged outside the ravine and his sweating muscles became dark with the dust, he could see the future with more clarity than ever before.

At first all he could see was green. So much green. Then brown. Trees. They were trees. It was hard to focus, he felt as if he was spinning, rising through a thick jungle. And then the world was red. Or, rather, reddish orange. He could feel how he was watching an enormous gas giant impossibly close to the ground. A moon. He was on a moon orbiting the gas giant, just as Iktotch orbited Iktotchon.

Slowly he could feel himself rising above the surface of the moon, its surface covered by this, lush jungle. Suddenly he started hearing the planet. The songs of birds, the screams of animals hidden by the leaves, the insects chirping. Even as his present self, still meditating in the ravine, was covered in dry dust, his future self could feel the oppressive humidity of the jungle, the sheen of sweat on his skin as he climbed higher and higher.

As his future self turned around, he could see an enormous ziggurat, its top rising almost a hundred meters over the canopy of the jungle. His eyes were drawn to the enormous structure, erected from light-brown rocks, weathered by what could be centuries of rain and winds on this jungle moon.

And then he heard the wailing scream. The sounds of the animals ceased at once, as the piercing noise threatened to deafen him. Only it wasn’t really noise, it was inside his head somehow. As he looked at the ziggurat again he could see darkness rising behind it. He could feel the tree shake as the ground trembles, and what he could only feel like cold, clammy darkness rising from the ground.

Dotan of the presence nearly lost his concentration, shifting back again and then rising up, keeping the heel of his right leg and the palm of his right hand on the ground. He focused again on this future he’s been witnessing. He was uncertain how much time had past, but his future self was no longer at the top of the tree he was previously. He was now running through the jungle. Towards the ziggurat. And the world seemed to be on fire. He could see the jungle all around the huge building burning. Only the flames he saw weren’t the bright orange flames he was used to seeing. They were dark, almost black.

He ran faster now. He was almost at the ziggurat, close enough to see people running out of the building towards a small spaceship, just as the ship got engulfed in the strange flames and exploded. The people were thrown back by the explosion, and so was his future self. As he got up, he could see a human he recognized as a hero of the Rebellion trying to help a green-scaled Cosian, struck by debris from the spaceship. He was slightly older than the young man he remembered from the holo-news and had allowed his facial fur to grow. A red-skinned Devaronian lay next to him, his head nearly severed by an armored plate from the ship, hurled at him by the explosion.

The future Dotan didn’t have time to get to his feet. The dark fire spread unnaturally fast, and in moments he had engulfed the small group of people that managed to flee the ziggurat. Just as the brown robes of the hero of the Rebellion caught fire, he looked straight at Dotan. In the present time, Dotan could feel the presence of the human with him in the ravine, if only for a moment. And then Dotan of the future could feel the impossibly warm flames as he burned alive in the dark flames.

In the present, Dotan fell to the ground, completely exhausted. The darkness outside indicated he had been meditating for hours. Days even. He’d had the most vivid vision of the future he’d ever seen. And it had been terrifying. He could feel his consciousness fading as darkness took him. As he did, he felt a chilling voice inside his head, asking a simple question: “Who are you?”

When the Iktotchi regained consciousness he was covered in dust, but the storm has abated. He dusted his robes off before putting them on again, digging his wiripi-root walking cane from the dust at his feet and walked out of the ravine. When he got to the monastery after hours of hiking, several of the monks had assembled outside, Master Tauman among them.

“I know what you must do, and that you will never return,” the old Iktotchi told Dotan, handing him a clean set of robes. “May you accomplish all that you set out to do, but remember our teachings,” he finished, before turning away and returning to the old stone building. He didn’t have to hear what Dotan had to say. He already knew.

It took Dotan a week to hike back to civilization. It gave him time to think. He was now positive that the moon he saw in his vision was the same one he had seen in the holo-news after the fall of the Emperor at the battle of Endor. Yavin IV. And that the hero of the Republic he had seen was Luke Skywalker. The Jedi Knight who had destroyed the first Death Star.

He also knew that he didn’t have to find Luke. Luke would find him. As he walked, he could feel himself slipping into a trance. He saw Luke walking out of an old freighter, long past its prime. He could see his future self meeting Luke for the first time. Hear Luke tell him about a strange connection he felt that had drawn him to Iktotch. And he could hear Luke telling him about his effort to rebuild the Jedi Order, asking Dotan if he wanted to be a part of the resurgence. Telling him how strong he was in the Force.

This was why he wasn’t surprised to find the battered old freighter in docking bay Aurek-4 in the spaceport, or to find Luke Skywalker walking towards him.

Luke seemed to be about to say something, but Dotan held up his hand. “I know what you mean to say, Master Skywalker. And if you had met me two weeks ago, I would have told you that I intended to live out the rest of my life in isolation and refused. But now that I have seen darkness rising over the ziggurats of Yavin IV I know my place is by your side. I accept your proposal and will train to become a Jedi Knight.”

Luke blinked once. Twice. Not saying a word. Thinking. And then he shrugged. “Well then, we had better get started,” was all he said as he beckoned the Iktotchi into the Falcon. They would have time for explanations later.

Motivation: Enlightenment

Dotan has changed his ways a lot since leaving the financial world and beliefs he has found a higher purpose in life. His goal is to better himself spiritually, connecting with the Force in ways he hasn't been able to until he met Luke Skywalker, and become a better person.

Motivation: The Living Force

Since realizing that what he was doing when he contemplated time, the past and the future was connected to the Living Force, he has become focused on learning more about this aspect of the Force, and to become one with this mystical power.

Morality: 50

Emotional Strength: Discipline
Emotional Weakness: Obstinance

Dotan has found contentment in the simple life after leaving the life of an intergalactic playboy behind. His time in the monastery on Iktotch has taught him self-reliance and discipline and he doesn't make rash decisions or succumb to threats or flattery. At the same time his certainty about himself can manifest as stubbornness as he can find no reason to doubt his logic and see things from the perspective of others.

Dotan Menom is fairly tall at over 190 cm and has a strong build many associate with his kin. His skin is reddish-pink and hairless, contrasted by his dark horns that curve around his face. His face is usually serious, frequently looking as if he's a million miles away. The tall Iktotchi tends to dress in tanned overalls that allow him the freedom of movement, and he usually wears grey or brown robes over. He always travels very light, eschewing most material possessions. He is usually unarmed, but when hiking or traveling he tends to carry a thin but strong stick made of wiripi-root from his homeworld.