Terran Koul

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Terran Koul
Biographical Information
Homeworld:	Kiffu
Date of Birth:
Physical Description
Species:	Kiffar
Gender:	Male
Height:	1.85 Meters
Weight:	80 Kilos
Hair:	Brown
Eyes:	Blue
Personal Information
Allies:	Isshwarr Kettch
Lightsaber Color(s):	Light Blue
Lightsaber Form(s):	Vapaad
Fighting Style(s):	Jakelian
Chronology & Political Information
Profession:	Bounty Hunter
Era(s):	DJB Era
Affiliation:	Arcona
Personal Ship:	Modified Horizon-class Star Yacht Gentleman Bastard
Known masters:	Saarai-kaar
Dossier:	91
[ Source ]

"Well, my time of not taking you seriously is certainly coming to a middle."

―Terran Koul

Terran Koul was a Kiffar Bounty Hunter and Gray Jedi. Orphaned at a young age, he was raised amongst the Jensaarai. Though diligent in his studies, he had a pattern of disregarding authority that landed him in successive altercations throughout his youth. He earned the rank of Defender but, due to his volatile nature, was expelled from the order shortly thereafter.

After leaving the Jensaarai, he travelled to his homeworld of Kiffar. Though he made the journey to learn about his heritage and seek out family, he soon found himself embroiled in the planet's seedy underbelly. What started as a few favors for low-level information-brokers soon turned into common grifting. This led to petty theft, which in turn led to asset-recovery for the more affluent members of the criminal underworld. From there, it was a short step to Bounty Hunting. While he eventually made a name for himself amongst the Bounty Hunters of the galaxy, he chose, surprisingly, to give up the hunt to join Arcona. Though his reasons for doing so were unclear, his talents quickly proved useful to the Clan's summit. Despite that utility, there are more than a few rumors as to his true intentions in joining the Brotherhood.

Biography

Parentage and Birth

15 ABY - 19 ABY

"There was little about him that could not be summed up as nondescript. Except for you."

"Though you'll never hear me say it: I love you."

―Elaina, to her infant son, shortly before being abducted.

Little was known of Terran's birth and parentage, even to himself. His mother was abducted when he was a toddler, though even that was unknown at the time. While his father's whereabouts could not be ascertained, it is assumed that he cared for the child for a year or more before disappearing himself. Koul's exact age is unknown, but the records of the Saarai-kaar indicated that he was nearly five when a dark-eyed, hooded man appeared at the gates of the Jensaarai compound, asking that they take the boy in. Cowl pulled low against the torrential rain so common in Yumfla's summers, even the holorecordings from the enclave's security cameras could do little to identify him. Terran's first four months amongst the Hidden Followers were spent nearly catatonic, and when he finally recovered from whatever had befallen him, he had no recollection of the ordeal. Even his name was the fabrication of a Saarai-kaar overly-fond of puns.

Amongst the Jensaraai

19 ABY - 31 ABY

"No, it wasn't your imagination. Would you like me to show you how?"

""We hid from the Jedi and mourned and buried our dead. We had been sealed together, bound together by the deaths. We made a new memory from the tragedy.""

―The Saarai-kaar

A Leaf Spirals Down

Koul's earliest memory was of a small, brick-encircled pond in the Jensaarai compound on Susevfi. As he sat beside the pool, a single leaf fell from the oak that had taken root at the pond's center. He reached for it, as if to catch it, but it was too far from him. For just a moment it hung, suspended but unsupported. Then it hit the water, sending ripples across the clear surface. Footsteps approached from behind him and he nearly sunk back into his mute reverie. Then the Saarai-kaar spoke and her words - and voice - defied his stupor. She offered to teach him. And to his own surprise, he agreed.

Over the next few years, Terran learned the basics of the Force from his new Jensaarai family. More than that, though, he learned the basics of being human. While he still had no memory of his parents, nor of what had occurred prior to that day beside the pond, he began to heal. Through incessant badgering and sheer tenacity, his Jensaarai brethren drew him out of his shell. Now and then he even cracked a smile.

Though studious, Jensaarai apprentices were little different from other children their age.

Like the Jedi they had once feared, the Jensaarai often took on apprentices at a young age. The apprentices were raised in a nurturing, if demanding, environment, and Terran quickly found himself welcome amongst them. In addition to the normal lessons in biology, physics, rhetoric and civics, the young apprentices spent several hours a day studying the Force. More often than not, these sessions were consumed by meditations on the connections between the life around them, or on the nature of the Force itself. For Terran, this was very nearly torture. Every so often, though, they would actually work on something useful. The lessons on tapping into the Force directly, on telekinesis and sensing the world around them, were what really mattered to the young Kiffar. Those he took to heart.

Wind-Grasped, It Is Held Aloft

While the soft-spoken Saarai-kaar was as good as her word, and Terran did eventually learn to lift objects and keep them aloft, that was only the beginning of his tutelage. Despite their initial break from the Jedi Order, the Jensaarai kept a strict adherence to the Three Pillars. The standard instruction for apprentices began with the Force and the Pillar of Knowledge. As boring as Terran found the more academic aspects of his training, he had little choice but to continue it. An orphan, and a ward of the Jensaarai, there was nowhere else for him to go. At times, when he grew too discouraged for his fellow apprentices to cheer him up, he would find himself at the same pond where he initially resolved to undergo training. On one such occasion, nearly four years after he first sat beside those waters, he found himself meditating in the lone oak's shade. Eventually, after several hours of quiet contemplation, the Saarai-kaar approached the young Kiffar. She was loathe to disturb his meditation - knowing full-well how little he enjoyed it - but she could feel the strength of the conflict within him. Hoping to help ease the tension, and perhaps to offer him some small solace, she had brought him a piece of jewelry. The Saarai-kaar explained that the piece was originally given to her care by the same man who had entrusted them with Terran's future. She had intended to wait until he was older, cautious of what feelings and memories the keepsake might drag to the surface. However, sensing his turmoil, she had decided to risk it in the hope that it might help.

She held a small, turquoise Haali, wings poised as if soaring aloft, threaded on a platinum chain. A link on the chain was torn jaggedly open, as if it had been ripped free in a struggle. Still only half-aware of the world around him, the young boy held out his hands and the Saarai-kaar handed him the necklace. Terran nodded his thanks and studied the momento, curious as to why the Saarai-kaar expected it to help. He was thankful for it, and for the link to his past, but he couldn't fathom why she expected it to do anything but further inflame his conflicting emotions. Like all orphans, the boy had often fantasized about setting off on a grand adventure to seek out his lost parents. Though he knew it was just that - a fantasy - the necklace nonetheless strengthened the desire. And it would no doubt make it even harder to stomach the slow, patient path to Defender that lay before him.

Elaina's Haali Pendant

Sitting beneath the lone oak, fingers curled around the pendant, Terran had his first psychometric vision. He saw his mother's abduction from her eyes. He saw himself, still a toddler, ripped from her arms. The boy that was himself grasped instinctively, hand scrabbling for purchase as he was pulled from her and finding only the Haali stone's chain. Then it tore, falling to the floor and skittering into the shadows as a pair of burly, resolute men pulled her through the doorway and into darkness.

The vision left Terran in shock, and it was many hours before he made his way back into the compound proper to seek out the Saarai-kaar's counsel. They spoke through the night and the Saarai-kaar, gifted in psychometry herself, offered to teach him to hone his gifts if he agreed to see his training through to completion. The possibility of harnessing his gifts to track down his parents finally quieted the storm that had been brewing in him for years. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt sanguine. He left the meeting determined to redouble his efforts.

Though he had found a renewed sense of purpose in his training, Terran was still a child with a great many emotional scars. The Jensaarai taught caution and thoughtfulness, but there was ever an edge to the young Kiffar's words and deeds.

But All Leaves Must Fall

It's all fun and games until somebody drowns.

Jensaarai apprentices were occasionally granted free days, and it was Terran's wont on such days to explore the warrens of Yumfla or the miles of forest that lay beyond the compound. On one occasion, he found himself strolling along the river that ran past the city. A group of children were gathered under a massive oak that stretched over the river's banks, taking turns diving from one of its thicker branches. He admired their energy and envied their unfettered playfulness. Then a cry rang out from the group. One of their number had taken a bad dive. He had surfaced, but he wasn't moving on his own and the river's swift current had begun to pull him down stream. It was clear the children were agitated, but they were either too shocked or too afraid to act.

Terran dove in without hesitation, letting the river pull him along and kicking his feet wildly to catch up to the unconscious child. After several minutes of half-drowned terror, he finally caught up to the injured boy and wrapped his arms around him. It was only then that the would-be rescuer realized he had no idea what he was doing. Though he liked to watch the river and listen to the sound of it rushing along its banks, he had never once swam in it. Moreover, the Jensaarai compound, while spacious, held little in the way of recreational accommodations. There was the small, knee-deep pond, but nothing resembling a pool. In all his years, the Kiffar had never learned to swim. Using the Force to strengthen his limbs and extend his endurance, he did eventually make it to shore with the young boy in tow. Waterlogged and exhausted, he pulled the child a few feet from the bank and tried to wake him up. When that failed, he tried to probe him through the Force. It was then that he realized how futile his efforts had been. The boy was already dead. Struggling to ignore the weight of defeat that threatened to crush him, Terran lifted the boy across his shoulders and trudged back along the bank of the river to where the children were, determined to at least find the dead child's parents.

It was late into the night before he finally returned to the Jensaarai compound. His instructors, when they learned of the day's events, commiserated with his heartache. But they were quick to add that such eventualities were inevitable when a person acted without due consideration. If he had waited, they insisted, he might have been able to help one of the other children - one who knew better how to swim - overcome their shock and, in doing so, see the child rescued sooner; in time, perhaps, to save his life.

Though Terran was quick to learn to swim, no amount of time spent in the water could wash away the sound of his instructor's lecturing tones.

Winds Condemn The Leaf

In time the students began combat training. They engaged in standard practice against remotes, using lightsabers to defend themselves from stinging, underpowered blaster bolts and, in time, to redirect the fire back at their whirring, spinning assailants. As with most of their physical exercises, Terran did relatively well. While he was far from the most adept of the apprentices, his native agility and strong situational awareness led him through the majority of their training sessions relatively unscathed. What he truly enjoyed, though, was sparring. Whether due to the reactive thoughtlessness that the Jensaarai combat techniques cultivated or the sheer exhilaration of throwing each other around the lightly-padded floors of the arena, Terran seldom felt more free and at peace than in the midst of a fight. In some ways, it was an asset. His exuberance and natural acuity mixed well with his talent for improvisation, and he quickly came out at the top of his class. However, he tended to lose himself in the fights, often striking harder than intended, or failing to notice when his opponent forfeited. Though it was never malicious, a fact his instructors constantly reassured him they knew, it was nonetheless a recurring issue with the young Kiffar's training.

Terran Koul's First Lightsaber

Eventually the apprentices were tasked with building their lightsabers. Though not the same rite of passage as it was among the Jedi, the Jensaarai still spent a great deal of time and effort in construction of their blades. The individual components were provided by the quartermasters of the Jensaarai. While some were purchased through trade or bartered for, many, particularly the crystals, were sought out by Jensaarai apprentices during their trial to become Defenders. Given the dangers that often proliferated around the rare crystals, no few Jensaarai had died trying to procure the necessary components. As such, constructing a lightsaber was always a solemn occasion amongst the Jensaarai, and one undertaken with the utmost care.

While the construction of a Jensaarai's lightsaber was far from the pivotal moment it was to the Jedi, it did mark a point in their training. Lightsabers were elegant, and they were an excellent defense against the unknown and often-dangerous galaxy beyond Susevfi, but they were also extremely dangerous. It indicated a level of trust in the pupils who were entrusted to carry such dangerous implements. It also opened the doorway to other, more brutal techniques. Unburdened by the strict mores of the Jedi, Jensaarai often made use of techniques from which more conservative Force-users shied away. While many Jensaarai apprentices practiced their command of Shock or their ability to Blind their fellow students - a common game among the trainees, Terran found an undeniable beauty in the art of ballistakinesis.

Though telekinesis was a normal part of the Jensaarai curriculum, and all apprentices learned the basics of ballistakinesis, few took the time to make a true study of it. It lacked the inherent allure that many of the darker Force abilities possessed. For Terran, though, there was a simple, brutal beauty in how forthright it was. More than that, it was fun. It challenged even his significant situational awareness and he found the effort immensely gratifying. The Saarai-kaar was an expert in the art and, between her tutelage in psychometry and his study in ballistakinesis, the two spent a great deal of time together. She recognized how concerted an effort Terran put into his training. She saw, too, the shadow that lay across his heart. And she often wondered which would win out.

Just Float, Like Your Brethren Do

The others felt...hungry.

The situation came to a head shortly after his fourteenth birthday. Though his exact age was unknown, the Saarai'kaar had taken to considering the first day by the pond, when he briefly held the leaf aloft, as his fifth birthday. As was custom amongst the Jensaarai, he spent the day in Yumfla. The Jensaarai, for all that they walked a path not entirely devoted to the Light Side, considered themselves champions of the downtrodden and protectors of the people around them. They would spend the day that marked their birth among those that they would one day be called upon to protect, mingling among them and seeing their troubles - and their victories - firsthand. On that day, as he so often did, Terran made a beeline for the warrens. It was a poor, dingier side of town, filled with houses in crude repair and replete with the occasional beggar. It was also a place that seemed vibrantly, undeniably alive to the young teenager. Unlike the more somber, reserved citizens that inhabited the wealthier districts of Yamfla, the denizens of the warrens were vocal, loud and, on occasion, downright rowdy. Vendors hawked wares from street corners and a dozen different styles of music blared from the houses and garages he passed. He could feel their emotions as he passed: joy at an unexpected windfall, worry over a late mortgage, anger at a shopkeeper who was too persistent for his own good. He lost himself in the eddies of emotion, the strength and variegation of them. It was beautiful and exhilarating. Then a shrill terror cut through them and chilled him to his soles.

Terran followed the feeling, using the Force to trace it through the crowded street. It led him down a cross street, then a smaller offshoot, and another. There were fewer people with every turn, and he found himself at the mouth of an alley. The street, rundown and covered in poorly-filled potholes, was deserted in either direction, but he could feel four people in the alley, and one of them was terrified. The others felt...hungry.

He reacted as he often did, without thinking, sending a hail of loose scrabble from the sidewalk at the three men who crouched towards the back of the alleyway. He wasn't sure who they were, but they were standing above the fourth, the woman whose terror had cut through his reverie. The whirlwind of gravel hit them, taking one of the men down immediately. Then he was on the remaining pair, lightsaber lit, cutting through them. It was over in moments, the three half-clad assailants dead, and he helped the woman to her feet. Though she was grateful, she was also shocked - as was he. He had seen death just once before, and he had never been its cause. As she stumbled off - towards a police station, he thought - Terran returned his saber to his belt and walked half-conscious back to the Jensaarai compound.

"You could do worse," suggested the Saarai'kaar,"than to start with the Wookies."

In the end, as was so often the case, it was worse than he hoped and better than he feared. His instructors were irate and unnerved by his actions. The Saarai-kaar, however, understood that he had acted from a desire to help. His actions, she said, were not wrong. Nor were they as right as they could have been. He was confined to the compound and he was instructed to contemplate the nature of force. Not the Force, but force. It was, according to the Saarai'kaar, the most important and difficult lesson for many Jensaarai. When was force required - and how much of it? How could one make the distinction? His training, she explained, would not resume until he could provide her with a satisfactory answer. She suggested he look at the traditions of other cultures to find an answer to her questions, starting with the Wookiees. Eventually, he was very glad that she did.

But Some Leaves Are Torn

Amongst the Jensaarai, the creation of one's battle armor was the pivotal moment in their apprenticeship. Analogous to a Jedi creating his own lightsaber, it marked the passage from mere apprentice to one ready to be considered a full Jensaarai, and was the precursor to undertaking the Defender trials. Though not required, it was a common custom to style the armor on an animal or otherwise bestial creature that represented certain values to the Jensaarai. They were creatures that weren't overly aggressive, but were capable of fierce protectiveness when it was warranted. The more Terran learned of the Wookies, the more he felt he had found the perfect fit for his armor. The only problem now was earning back the privilege of constructing it.

Traditional Jensaarai Armor, modeled after a reek

He spent several months studying the history of the species via the holonet, reading every scholarly article he could find on the ursine sentients that made Kashyyyk's deadly wroshyr forests their home. Enslaved by the Czerka corporation thousands of years before, they spent years trying to find a peaceful resolution to the situation before finally revolting. When they did revolt, however, it was to devastating effect, overthrowing in a matter of weeks what their corporate overlords had spent years building. After joining the Republic, they gained a reputation for possessing great wisdom and were renowned for their patience and fair-dealing with other cultures. During the clone wars, the Wookies initially tried to remain neutral, seeking peace between the factions of the fracturing Republic. When it became clear that no peace was to be had, they were ready to take up arms, fighting unflinchingly against the Separatists that threatened the safety and prosperity of the Republic's member-states. On a more personal level, Wookies held dear their families, both the families of blood and those of friendship - what they termed "honor family". He became so enamored with the creatures that he even began studying the Wookie language in his spare time, a soothing practice he continued throughout his adolescence.

In the end, as was so often the case, the Saarai-kaar was right. Studying the Wookies - and when and how they resorted to force - illuminated what his heart alone could not. Violence was a last resort and, when unavoidable, should be utilized to whatever degree necessary - and not a joule more. It was one of the reasons the Jensaarai had spent so many decades remaining hidden after the fall of the Republic: to prevent the necessity of violence. He explained his reasoning to the Saarai-kaar and his other Jensaarai instructors and, in time, was allowed to continue his training. But though he might understand, intellectually, that violence should be avoided, the same bloody edge still shadowed his heart.

A few Susevfi months before his fifteenth birthday, Terran began construction of his armor. With his instructors' blessings, he based it on the Wookies that he had come to emulate. As he sought to shape his soul in their image, so too should his armor reflect them. It was an arduous task, requiring a great deal of care and fine craftsmanship. As was Jensaarai custom, he spent much of the time fasting and meditating on the values he sought to express in his armor. On the eve of his fifteenth birthday it was completed, and the following day he was set upon his trials to become a Defender.

Still They Try to Soar

Nar Shaddaa, the Vertical City

A Durindfire Crystal

As was common practice, his trials began with a journey offworld, ostensibly to collect materials necessary for the construction of future students' lightsabers and armor. These trips, while seemingly imperative to Jensaarai apprentices, were little more than a pretense. The true purpose of the journey was to acclimate the Jensaarai, who had spent so long sheltered among their own kind, to the vagaries of the galaxy beyond Susevfi. One of the Jensaarai Defenders had been a smuggler before joining the order, and an old acquaintance of his claimed to have uncovered a cache of Durindfire crystals that would be able to power several dozen lightsabers. Terran was tasked with meeting the Rodian broker on the world city of Nar Shaddaa and retrieving the shipment of crystals. While he had a handful of encounters with thieves and muggers, few were willing to engage in a prolonged tussle with a man wielding a lightsaber. Even fewer when that man demonstrated he could wield the Force. Still, mindful of the lesson he had so recently learned, he tried to walk softly, relying on stealth and blending in rather than displays of force or Force to remain unaccosted. The exchange itself went smoothly. The Rodian, Hynder, had the crystals as was promised, and Terran had been coached in haggling down the price to something more affordable to the Jensaarai's never-flush coffers.

Returning to the Jensaarai compound outside Yumfla, Terran remitted the crystals to the quartermasters' care and, after giving a full accounting of the mission, was welcomed home, one step closer to the mantle of Defender.

Flying High On Reckless Gusts

The Saarai-kaar on a rare patrol of Yumfla's streets.

For several months after his trial, Terran's days and nights fell into a predictable pattern. There were no more classes on history or politics. Instead, he continued his own training and meditation during the morning. After a midday meal, the older apprentices who were on their way towards becoming Defenders would gather in a courtyard and discuss their differing viewpoints on the Force or morality, often seeking to sway or be swayed until a consensus was reached in one particular or another. Though Terran initially thought the exchanges would grow tiresome, he found that he was often an active participant in their debates. While the subjects might be boring in the abstract, when applied to real-world situations they were intriguing, and he was surprised at how passionate he grew. When evening came, the would-be Defenders took shifts patrolling the streets of Yumfla, offering a level of protection and security that no terrestrial law enforcement could provide. It was tiring, and it was often thankless. But to Terran, it felt right in a way he had never known.

The Jensaarai presence ensured that Yumfla had an unprecedentedly low rate of criminality, but nothing could completely rid a city of burglaries or crimes of passion. Terran thwarted any number of transgressions over the next half year, invariably in the Warrens. Though half a decade had passed, it was still his favorite part of the city, and when he set out on patrol, his feet invariably took him there. When dealing with lawbreakers, he was sure to err on the side of caution. Often, if no one had been hurt, he let the would-be criminals go with a stern warning and a promise. Repeat offenders were few, and always turned over to the local constables. Over time, people came to recognize the sight of his armor and, as word of his actions spread, smiles and waves and even kind words met his passing.

The elders among the Jensaarai were always watching and listening for reports on the apprentices' patrols. As word of his watches, and of his restraint, reached their ears, many that had once been his detractors, sure that his youthful indiscretions could not be mended, began to change their minds. After half a year he was summoned to their council. Though not all were convinced that he had conquered his often-troublesome temper, enough felt that he had done so. They conferred on him the rank of Defender. It was a moment of shining brilliance that lit his young life.

It was not to last.

But All Leaves Must Fall

Though he was officially a Defender, the Saarai-kaar had a final duty that she wished him to complete before she gave him her blessing. Terran learned, to his surprise, that one of the three thugs he believed that he had killed had, in fact, survived his assault. The man, a human named Kello Thrall, claimed to have been crippled that night. He had brought a suit against the Jensaarai, claiming he was owed for lost wages and suffering as a result of Terran's actions. Though Terran initially scoffed at the suggestion, explaining to the Saarai-kaar that the trio had been attempting to rape a woman at the time, the Saarai-kaar was adamant that some form of recompense must be made. She tasked Terran with tracking down Thrall and investigating his claim. She urged him to be humble, and to keep foremost in his mind that his actions - regardless of his intent - had been wrong. Though Terran believed the man ought to consider himself lucky, given that he survived despite his heinous crime, he saw that there was compassion and wisdom in the Saarai-kaar's words.

With a heavy heart he contacted an acquaintance of his amongst the local constables and inquired as to Thrall's address. He spent days meditating on the situation, hoping for clarity or, at least, to maintain a more detached perspective when confronting the thug. When he finally made the journey to the address, he found Kello Thrall's apartment in the worst part of the Warrens. It was midday, the sun beating down overhead, and he couldn't tell whether the sweat on his brow was from the heat or from his trepidation. A young boy, no more than ten, answered the door begrudgingly. He viewed the older, unarmored Kiffar with suspicion, and Terran tried to put him at ease as he asked to speak to the boy's father. The child scurried back into the house without a word, and was replaced in short order by an older, blonde woman. She invited him in and offered him a seat and a glass of something cool to drink before inquiring as to his business. Terran graciously accepted, postponing the awkward conversation to come. Eventually, though, she returned, and there was nothing left but to broach the subject.

He asked the woman, Trellia Thrall, if her husband was in. She nodded, commenting that he was napping in the other room, and her hand brushed her cheek, unconsciously drawing her hair away from a nasty bruise that discolored the side of her face. It was at that point that Kello chose to enter the room. The man was unkempt, overweight and reeking of stale whiskey, and Terran knew without a doubt that he was the source of the woman's injury. Suddenly his perspective shifted, and he saw the child's reticence in a new light. It wasn't rudeness. It was fear. Likewise, the woman's courtesy wasn't politeness, but obsequiousness. And this man, this wife-beating, would-be rapist was the cause. He could taste the rage that welled up inside him, and struck the man down before he could open his mouth to speak. He struck him down before he could even consider the repercussions. Then, in a state of shock, he left.

It was late into the night before he returned to the Jensaarai compound, and he did so with a heavy heart. He requested an audience with the Saarai-kaar and recounted the day's events. She listened with compassion. But she listened, too, with dismay. In the end, there was only one recourse.

For the second time in as many decades, he was without a family.

Home and Homelessness

31 ABY - 33 ABY

Saarai-kaar: "The path you're headed down only ends in one place, Terran. And that place is not here. You are no longer welcome."

Terran Koul: "Yeah, what else is new?"

―The Saarai-kaar to Terran Koul, on his exile from the Jensaarai.

• Books passage to Kiffar on a cargo freighter.
• He has a few leads based on the psychometric visions - name of the ship they were on, descriptions of mother
• Asks around and searches public records, but there's no record of the last run the ship made
• Puts out ads with sketches of his mother, but no hits.
• Considers DNA testing, but doesn't have the credits.

Aim to Misbehave

33 ABY - 34 ABY

"'Difficult' and 'impossible' are cousins often mistaken for one another, with very little in common."

―Terran Koul, when told that tracking down his family would be an impossible task.

• Finally gets a hit based on the ads and, along with the missing flight records, suspects his parents were smugglers.
• Connects with some information brokers, doing favors, hoping he'll be able to get info on who owned the ship his parents were on.
• The leads go nowhere. Eventually takes to con jobs and then theft to get together funds for DNA testing.
• The testing, unfortunately, turns up no results, just giving him an idea as to his lineage and the area of Kiffar he is most likely from.
• Starts working asset recovery jobs.

Hair-Brained Schemes Pay Off

34 ABY - 36 ABY

"There’s no freedom quite like the freedom of being constantly underestimated."

―Terran Koul to Isshwarr, on being asked how they could capture an Imperial Admiral.

• Meets Isshwarr and Kettch on a recovery job.
  • They're after the same piece of stolen property.
  • Surprised at Terran understanding Wookie.
• They cross paths on a few other jobs, and eventually team up.
• Move on to Bounty Hunting

After Bigger Game

36 ABY - Present

"There’s no freedom quite like the freedom of being constantly underestimated."

―Terran Koul to Isshwarr, on being asked how they could capture an Imperial Admiral.

• After a couple years of successful bounty hunting, Terran ends up in Arcona without explanation.

Physical Description

Terran Koul was a tall, Kiffar male in his mid-twenties. He had a medium build and brown, touseled hair. Dark blue eyes and high cheekbones - sharp enough to cut stone - often caused him to stand out in a crowd, despite the goatee that softened his strong jawline. His pink lips looked more accustomed to frowning than otherwise, at odds with the glimmer in his eyes. With his coloring and bone structure, he could pass for a Hapan were it not for his litany of aftermarket imperfections. His aquiline nose had been broken repeatedly, and poorly reset on more than one occasion. Along with the scars on his face - a long, curved scar on his left cheek and a smaller, triangular one on his right - it was clear he had been in more than a few brawls in his life. Though he lacked the typical Kiffar tattoos, he had a series of blue glyphs the same shade as his eyes inked along his outer biceps.

Terran's clothing was often rough-spun and utilitarian, with only the barest of concessions to fashion. A plain white shirt, tight through the chest, suggested a muscle-tone born of hard labor or years swimming rather than a gym. He wore a single holster slung low on the waist of his tan pants and fastened across his right thigh, with a second at the small of his back. In addition to the pair of blasters, a spring-loaded sheath rode his right wrist, keeping his lightsaber in easy reach. His brown gloves appeared padded with armor or machinery of some sort. They were custom made for his hands and the patterning on their exterior almost seemed to suggest fur, despite their smooth surface. The gloves and sheath were the only remaining pieces of his Jensaarai armor that he wore regularly. Koul's reinforced black leather boots were cracked with age, but lovingly maintained with obvious care. Covering it all, he often wore a chestnut coat, loose in the sleeves and open to keep his movements free and easy. Numerous pockets in the cloak's interior held grenades, blades, candy, datapads, lock-pits, rocks, stuncuffs, and, on occasion, vegetables or yarn.

Personality and Traits

Smart-ass, Wise-cracking, egotistical bounty hunter with a heart of tarnished...well, something. Definitely not gold.

Powers and Abilities

Ballistakinesis

Terran has extensive training in Ballistakinesis, a telekinetic technique employed by the Jensaarai. As a result, Terran tends to use his telekinesis to attack with multiple smaller objects at lethal velocities rather than a few large objects at slower speeds. This scattergun-like technique is less accurate and more susceptible to collateral damage, but is also more difficult to evade - especially in enclosed areas.

Psychometry

Psychometry, also known as Postcognition, or telemetry is a Force-powered mental technique of picking up impressions and traces of information about the object touched and the events that have surrounded it.

This power allows the user to view events as if they were there, including the sights, sounds, and feelings, both emotional and physical, that the wielder of the object experienced. This power is easier to use on personal objects that are used frequently. Objects that were used once or by several people often make the use of this power difficult, though it is still possible. This skill is useful for tracking though it is not useful in open battle and can fail to render useful information at times.

Behind the Scenes

Positions Held
Before	Position	After
Octavian Vareno	Aedile of House Ektrosis 20 ABY	Dark Sabre Taldrya
Shadonyx	Quaestor of House Ektrosis 20 - 21 ABY	Shadonyx
Gryffon De'Urtha Cantor	Combat Master of Antei Combat Centre 21 - 22 ABY	Dalthid
	Magistrate to the Oracle 21 - 23 ABY
	Staff Member for the Dark Voice 21 - 23 ABY
Tsainetomo Keibatsu	Rollmaster of House Marka Ragnos 29 ABY
Jade Sadow	Aedile of House Marka Ragnos 29 - 30 ABY	Alexander Anderson
Dralin Fortea	Aedile of House Qel-Droma 35 ABY	Solus Gar
Marick Arconae	Quaestor of House Qel-Droma 35 - 36 ABY	Socorra
	Magistrate to the Seneschal 35 ABY - Present
Shi Long	Gatewarden of Shadow Gate 36 - 37 ABY	Etah d'Tana
Nikola Valtiere	Commander of Void Squadron 37 ABY	Disbanded
Well, my time of not taking you seriously is certainly coming to a middle.