The Hired Gun
Age: 37
Gender: Male
Race: Human/Twi'lek Hybrid
Height: 1.86 [m]
Weight: 89 [kg]
Occupation: Former Pirate, Freelance Mercenary
Force Sensitivity: None
Force Presence: Malignant. Corrosive. Malicious.
Xadok is a trustworthy man. Trust him to plan out how to kill you in more than a dozen ways within the first five seconds of meeting you. Trust him to backstab you if it's convenient for him. Trust him to make promises and forge alliances as easily as he breaks them. Trust him to exploit every weakness and make use of every advantage. Trust him to throw morality and ethics aside as worthless baggage. Trust him to value credits above all else. Trust him to only have loyalty to himself and his crew. Trust him to be discreet. Trust him to get the job done. And above all, trust him to be the bastard you call when you need other bastards dead and buried.
The overall impression that Xadok gives, is one of sharpness. From his thin, blade-like face, to the sharpness of his eyes, he is a man made up of hard and dangerous edges. A hybrid, he seems to inherit more of his mother's Twi'lek features than his father.
Beneath the mask is an angular face, the cheekbones high, the nose narrow and long. A perpetual smirk slashes across his crimson-red complexion, that widens when he laughs to show sharp white teeth. His eyes are the same, half-hooded orange orbs that flicker between amusement, hunger, and bored cruelty. A jagged scar runs down through the right browline from forehead to cheek, evidence of a time someone tried to cut one of those arrogant eyes out.
One of Xadok's most distinctive features are his lekku, the head-tails that cascade down his back that mark his Twi'lek heritage. Unlike the long, graceful appendages typical of other Twi'lek, Xadok's lekku are comparatively short, reaching only to his shoulders. The truncated length is a testament to his heritage, serving as a constant reminder of his nature as a "halfie". Xadok's height is average for a Twi'lek, his build lithe yet surprisingly muscular, especially in his upper body—and in the muscles commonly used for climbing and fighting.
His clothes are serviceable, not presentable, and he seems to put little effort into how he dresses. Excepting, that is, the gaudy adornments of golden finger rings and ear piercings, that look chosen more for their weight and value as opposed to their artistic or aesthetic merit. And beneath his armour, there are markings etched in ink all over his body. To most, they would be meaningless, but to one who has served aboard a pirate vessel and immersed themself in its culture, they tell a story. A story of prizes taken and prizes lost, of hearts broken and men killed, of triumph and defeat.
Beneath the mask is an angular face, the cheekbones high, the nose narrow and long. A perpetual smirk slashes across his crimson-red complexion, that widens when he laughs to show sharp white teeth. His eyes are the same, half-hooded orange orbs that flicker between amusement, hunger, and bored cruelty. A jagged scar runs down through the right browline from forehead to cheek, evidence of a time someone tried to cut one of those arrogant eyes out.
One of Xadok's most distinctive features are his lekku, the head-tails that cascade down his back that mark his Twi'lek heritage. Unlike the long, graceful appendages typical of other Twi'lek, Xadok's lekku are comparatively short, reaching only to his shoulders. The truncated length is a testament to his heritage, serving as a constant reminder of his nature as a "halfie". Xadok's height is average for a Twi'lek, his build lithe yet surprisingly muscular, especially in his upper body—and in the muscles commonly used for climbing and fighting.
His clothes are serviceable, not presentable, and he seems to put little effort into how he dresses. Excepting, that is, the gaudy adornments of golden finger rings and ear piercings, that look chosen more for their weight and value as opposed to their artistic or aesthetic merit. And beneath his armour, there are markings etched in ink all over his body. To most, they would be meaningless, but to one who has served aboard a pirate vessel and immersed themself in its culture, they tell a story. A story of prizes taken and prizes lost, of hearts broken and men killed, of triumph and defeat.
Xadok has sometimes been described as a vibroblade - cold, sharp and very good at detaching things from other things. Figurative or otherwise. He is a hard man; he’s lived a hard life and a long one at that, considering his chosen profession. He’s tough, reliable, and diligent - someone that can be depended upon in any difficult situation. On the battlefield, he is a force to be reckoned with, exhibiting a bold and reckless nature that often borders on the fearless. He is unafraid to take risks and make bold moves if he believes it will help secure a victory, and his skill as a soldier is matched only by his cunning.
However, outside of the battlefield, Xadok presents a different persona entirely. To many, he is an amicable and gregarious individual. He has the utter confidence to talk, and talk - and knows he would be listened to, laughed with, and understood. A lifetime spent in the company of criminals and other neer-do-wells has cultivated Xadok into a boisterous and cocksure individual who can drink, spit and swear with the best and worst of the galaxy's scum and villainy. His speech is peppered with japes and swears in a multitude of alien tongues. He laughs often and loudly, frequently at others's expense. He answers insults in kind, and with a mocking smile as if to say he's heard it all before. If insults escalate to drawn blasters, he hasn't lost yet. He is fearless, confident in his own skills, and ruthless to a fault.
Most of his enemies who have had the unfortunate displeasure of meeting Xadok have often underestimated him, figuring him as nothing more than a dumb brute with a loud mouth. And for that reason alone, most of his enemies are now dead. Unscrupulous and ruthless in everything that he does, Xadok wholeheartedly embodies what it means to be a mercenary. Loyal only to himself and his friend, Kallak'karr, he uses his cunning mind to further his own interests - often at the ruination of others; be they friend or foe. For indeed, Xadok is a man wholly unafraid of getting his hands dirty if it means it'll get him ahead. And Force only knows how dirty his hands have been over the years.
However, outside of the battlefield, Xadok presents a different persona entirely. To many, he is an amicable and gregarious individual. He has the utter confidence to talk, and talk - and knows he would be listened to, laughed with, and understood. A lifetime spent in the company of criminals and other neer-do-wells has cultivated Xadok into a boisterous and cocksure individual who can drink, spit and swear with the best and worst of the galaxy's scum and villainy. His speech is peppered with japes and swears in a multitude of alien tongues. He laughs often and loudly, frequently at others's expense. He answers insults in kind, and with a mocking smile as if to say he's heard it all before. If insults escalate to drawn blasters, he hasn't lost yet. He is fearless, confident in his own skills, and ruthless to a fault.
Most of his enemies who have had the unfortunate displeasure of meeting Xadok have often underestimated him, figuring him as nothing more than a dumb brute with a loud mouth. And for that reason alone, most of his enemies are now dead. Unscrupulous and ruthless in everything that he does, Xadok wholeheartedly embodies what it means to be a mercenary. Loyal only to himself and his friend, Kallak'karr, he uses his cunning mind to further his own interests - often at the ruination of others; be they friend or foe. For indeed, Xadok is a man wholly unafraid of getting his hands dirty if it means it'll get him ahead. And Force only knows how dirty his hands have been over the years.
- "Deck Sweeper" - Scattergun
The "Deck Sweeper" is Xadok's trusty scattergun, a short-barreled slugthrower crafted for close-quarters combat and boarding actions. The matte black barrel is short and sturdy, perfect for navigating tight spaces on a ship. It's designed to deliver a devastating spread of pellets, making it a formidable choice when clearing confined spaces of hostiles. Though lacking the precision of some long-range weapons, its stopping power makes it an indispensable tool in Xadok's arsenal, particularly when things get up close and personal. The weapon bears the wear and tear of countless skirmishes, a testament to its reliability and the countless foes it has dispatched in Xadok's skilled hands. - "Disintegrator" - High Powered Blaster Rifle
The sleek and imposing "Disintegrator" is Xadok's high-powered blaster rifle of choice. Its elongated barrel and sophisticated design speak of precision and lethal intent. Capable of delivering powerful, focused energy bolts at a distance, the rifle is equipped with an advanced targeting system, ensuring accuracy even in chaotic battlefield scenarios. However, Xadok tends to reserve its use for situations where complete annihilation is acceptable, as its direct hits can sometimes reduce targets to piles of ashes. And it's hard to cash in a bounty when all you have to show is a fistful of ash. - Cluster Bomblets
Adorning Xadok's bandolier are pouches containing an assortment of small but potent cluster bomblets. Ranging from explosives to flash grenades to gas canisters, these tools are strategically employed to overwhelm, disorient, and distract opponents rather than outright kill them. Xadok's preference for these versatile tools reflects his tactical approach to conflict, preferring to outmanoeuvre and confound his foes rather than rely solely on brute force. - Armour and Helmet
Xadok dons durasteel-plated armor, a formidable defence against both blaster fire and physical assaults. The armour is adorned with battle-worn markings, given and earned, a testament to the countless encounters it has seen. His iconic helmet completes the ensemble, featuring an integrated comlink and HUD display for tactical awareness, shielding his face as well as adding an added air of intimidation. - Holdout Blasters
Xadok carries a pair of holdout blasters, compact and easily concealable weapons that serve as his last line of defence in close encounters. These blasters are quick to draw and pack a surprising punch, offering Xadok a reliable means of defence when the situation calls for it. - Vibro-Machete
The vibro-machete is Xadok's preferred melee weapon. Compact and deadly, it serves him well in situations where a silent approach or close-quarters combat is required. The machete bears intricate engravings, hinting at a craftsmanship that goes beyond mere functionality. - Knives and Daggers
Xadok's philosophy of "you can never have too many blades" is reflected in the assortment of small knives and daggers he carries. Scattered across his body, these blades are strategically placed for quick access, for those desperate moments where he needs them on hand.
Some men can fall from grace; others have nowhere to fall to, having been born already on the ground.
Nar Shadda. The Smuggler's Moon. The birthplace of Xadok Tor-Bendu and one of the biggest trials of his life. He was born in the slums of the ecumenapolis, in the shadowed part of the moon that faced out into the vast expanse of space. His biological parents were on the lower side of the economic scale and greatly suffered because of it, living in the vilest sector on the planet where crime sprees weren't all that uncommon and people turned a blind eye towards killings. His father, a human, was a drunkard, constantly going from bar to bar asking for more alcohol. He was never there for his wife and when he was home, he was aggressive. Violent. Crazy. His mother was a Twi'lek, someone who came into the wrong city at the wrong time, believing in false promises. His mother was a kind woman, much too kind for the place she lived in. Gorgeous, with soft eyes and a caring touch. If one were to look from afar, they likely wouldn't notice the ugly scar running down across her right eye and the sad, mute look that donned her features.
If Xadok could remember his first six years vividly, it would be filled with confusing and contradicting emotions. He would remember happiness and warmth from his mother, crying over his infant body with that pretty smile of hers. He would remember the love he felt when she sang him a lullaby to keep him asleep, her angelic voice filling his ears, piercing through the confusing sounds of the outside world. He would remember her selflessness, curling up to him when his father was at his maddest. He would remember the comfort he felt in her arms. He would never forget the love that went away as she passed, blood spilling from her throat, his father crying over her dead body, bloody knife in hand. But, alas, he was a child, hardly bigger than a newborn at that.
He would only remember the hate and fear he felt for his father.
He was never there for him, his father. He left him after that fateful day and probably died in some hole - Xadok never really bothered to know. As a small boy, especially in a place such as Nar Shadda, being left alone meant that he had to grow up and act strong or die. At the age of 7, he wasn't supposed to be recruited into a local gang. He wasn't supposed to lose his childhood so soon. He wasn't supposed to feel blood on his hands, hearing someone's skull cracking as the sound of a blaster shot rings out in his ear, the coppery taste of crimson liquid on his tongue. It was a violent life but he had a simple job - and he excelled at it. He was already pretty big by this age and could go toe-to-toe with the big kids. His job was to follow them as they walked around the slums, establishing territory and roughing up the homeless to get on their side, vandalising homes and telling the other gangs to back off. He always held his head high, unflinching eyes staring at the weak as they cowered before him. He believed in the survival of the fittest, the strong over the weak, hate over love, strife over peace.
Xadok always assumed that he wouldn't rise much from where and what he was. Why would he, after all? He was a warren rat, a ganger and he was a halfie. No one liked halfies.
In his late adolescence, his gang began to frequent a local club called the Dancing Mynock. A place owned and operated by one of the Hutt Cartels of the planet. It was a pretty snazzy place, all things considered. Wide selection of drinks and substances for sale, dancers of half a dozen different races, and tight security in a place where such a thing was a rare commodity. Most remarkable of all, it also had quite possibly the scariest-looking bouncer on this side of the Outer Rim: An albino Wookiee who fought and killed as naturally as breathing. Kallak'karr the Madclaw.
And, as fate would have it, that Wookiee would also turn out to one day become Xadok's closest and most trustworthy friend.
However, to say that he and Kallak'karr immediately hit it off and became fast friends would be to tell a blatant lie. Most of their early interactions often involved Kallak'karr escorting - or in some cases, tossing - Xadok out of the club whenever the young criminal got himself into trouble on account of drinking too much. Which happened more often than not. In a way, the relationship between them at this point was one of shared enmity and didn't extend to anything more than that. Xadok viewed Kallak'karr as a tightass who always ruined his fun whenever things got exciting, and Kallak'karr likely viewed Xadok as a bothersome little shit who can't keep his hands to himself.
That all changed one fateful day. By the age of 16, Xadok's gang had amassed quite a territory in the sector, kicking out or wiping out most of the other rival gangs from there. That is, of course, all but one. A dispute over street corners eventually escalated into an all-out war between the two gangs at some point, and as it happened the Dancing Mynock served as the stage for that war's climax.
While out drinking in the Dancing Mynock and licking their wounds from a skirmish, Xadok and his fellows were surprised by a terrifying sight: Somehow, their rivals had also followed them into the club, and they did so fully armed. In the ensuing firefight, Xadok's fellow gang members were killed to a man, and he was only spared from sharing their fate by virtue of Kallak'karr, who tore into his would-be killers like a whirlwind. Not out of the goodness of his own heart, mind, but simply because they'd killed the club's patrons within the club's grounds. A clear breach of the club's rules.
Unfortunately, it didn't end there. Perhaps because they were utterly determined to wipe out Xadok's gang, those gangsters had also brought with them a veritable small arsenal of high explosives with them. High explosives which were set off when they fell to Kallak'karr's onslaught. High explosives which utterly destroyed the club, and miraculously left only Xadok and Kallak'karr as the only survivors. And seeing as though they were the only survivors, it was only logical that they'd be blamed for it all.
And a Hutt Cartel was a hell of a thing to have as an enemy.
[To be finished later, posting as is because I didn't want to hold my crew up. TL;DR is that he and Kallak'karr joined a pirate crew soon after, spent a decade or two privateering in the Outer Rim, then went freelance near the end of the Mandalorian Wars, by which point they teamed up with Jun Madell and Yaliwen "Yal" Tor.]
Nar Shadda. The Smuggler's Moon. The birthplace of Xadok Tor-Bendu and one of the biggest trials of his life. He was born in the slums of the ecumenapolis, in the shadowed part of the moon that faced out into the vast expanse of space. His biological parents were on the lower side of the economic scale and greatly suffered because of it, living in the vilest sector on the planet where crime sprees weren't all that uncommon and people turned a blind eye towards killings. His father, a human, was a drunkard, constantly going from bar to bar asking for more alcohol. He was never there for his wife and when he was home, he was aggressive. Violent. Crazy. His mother was a Twi'lek, someone who came into the wrong city at the wrong time, believing in false promises. His mother was a kind woman, much too kind for the place she lived in. Gorgeous, with soft eyes and a caring touch. If one were to look from afar, they likely wouldn't notice the ugly scar running down across her right eye and the sad, mute look that donned her features.
If Xadok could remember his first six years vividly, it would be filled with confusing and contradicting emotions. He would remember happiness and warmth from his mother, crying over his infant body with that pretty smile of hers. He would remember the love he felt when she sang him a lullaby to keep him asleep, her angelic voice filling his ears, piercing through the confusing sounds of the outside world. He would remember her selflessness, curling up to him when his father was at his maddest. He would remember the comfort he felt in her arms. He would never forget the love that went away as she passed, blood spilling from her throat, his father crying over her dead body, bloody knife in hand. But, alas, he was a child, hardly bigger than a newborn at that.
He would only remember the hate and fear he felt for his father.
He was never there for him, his father. He left him after that fateful day and probably died in some hole - Xadok never really bothered to know. As a small boy, especially in a place such as Nar Shadda, being left alone meant that he had to grow up and act strong or die. At the age of 7, he wasn't supposed to be recruited into a local gang. He wasn't supposed to lose his childhood so soon. He wasn't supposed to feel blood on his hands, hearing someone's skull cracking as the sound of a blaster shot rings out in his ear, the coppery taste of crimson liquid on his tongue. It was a violent life but he had a simple job - and he excelled at it. He was already pretty big by this age and could go toe-to-toe with the big kids. His job was to follow them as they walked around the slums, establishing territory and roughing up the homeless to get on their side, vandalising homes and telling the other gangs to back off. He always held his head high, unflinching eyes staring at the weak as they cowered before him. He believed in the survival of the fittest, the strong over the weak, hate over love, strife over peace.
Xadok always assumed that he wouldn't rise much from where and what he was. Why would he, after all? He was a warren rat, a ganger and he was a halfie. No one liked halfies.
In his late adolescence, his gang began to frequent a local club called the Dancing Mynock. A place owned and operated by one of the Hutt Cartels of the planet. It was a pretty snazzy place, all things considered. Wide selection of drinks and substances for sale, dancers of half a dozen different races, and tight security in a place where such a thing was a rare commodity. Most remarkable of all, it also had quite possibly the scariest-looking bouncer on this side of the Outer Rim: An albino Wookiee who fought and killed as naturally as breathing. Kallak'karr the Madclaw.
And, as fate would have it, that Wookiee would also turn out to one day become Xadok's closest and most trustworthy friend.
However, to say that he and Kallak'karr immediately hit it off and became fast friends would be to tell a blatant lie. Most of their early interactions often involved Kallak'karr escorting - or in some cases, tossing - Xadok out of the club whenever the young criminal got himself into trouble on account of drinking too much. Which happened more often than not. In a way, the relationship between them at this point was one of shared enmity and didn't extend to anything more than that. Xadok viewed Kallak'karr as a tightass who always ruined his fun whenever things got exciting, and Kallak'karr likely viewed Xadok as a bothersome little shit who can't keep his hands to himself.
That all changed one fateful day. By the age of 16, Xadok's gang had amassed quite a territory in the sector, kicking out or wiping out most of the other rival gangs from there. That is, of course, all but one. A dispute over street corners eventually escalated into an all-out war between the two gangs at some point, and as it happened the Dancing Mynock served as the stage for that war's climax.
While out drinking in the Dancing Mynock and licking their wounds from a skirmish, Xadok and his fellows were surprised by a terrifying sight: Somehow, their rivals had also followed them into the club, and they did so fully armed. In the ensuing firefight, Xadok's fellow gang members were killed to a man, and he was only spared from sharing their fate by virtue of Kallak'karr, who tore into his would-be killers like a whirlwind. Not out of the goodness of his own heart, mind, but simply because they'd killed the club's patrons within the club's grounds. A clear breach of the club's rules.
Unfortunately, it didn't end there. Perhaps because they were utterly determined to wipe out Xadok's gang, those gangsters had also brought with them a veritable small arsenal of high explosives with them. High explosives which were set off when they fell to Kallak'karr's onslaught. High explosives which utterly destroyed the club, and miraculously left only Xadok and Kallak'karr as the only survivors. And seeing as though they were the only survivors, it was only logical that they'd be blamed for it all.
And a Hutt Cartel was a hell of a thing to have as an enemy.
[To be finished later, posting as is because I didn't want to hold my crew up. TL;DR is that he and Kallak'karr joined a pirate crew soon after, spent a decade or two privateering in the Outer Rim, then went freelance near the end of the Mandalorian Wars, by which point they teamed up with Jun Madell and Yaliwen "Yal" Tor.]
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