Approved Kesh-Den Tao | The Refugee

Name: Kesh-Den Tao
Profession: Medic/Bodyguard
Age: 27 standard years

A tall and broad shouldered Iridonian with warm tan skin, contrasted by darker natural patterns along his face. His clothing is hard-worn and sturdy, much like himself. He carries a few tattoos, notably the letter aurek above his left eye, and a unique pattern coiling his left bicep. Handsome, but tired most of the time.

Force Sensitive?
No, Kesh's instincts tell him to resist the Force when confronted by it. This comes from Mandalorian superstition, their understanding of the Force and its effects on sentient minds coming from stories and past interactions with the likes of Exar Kun and other dark Jedi. Thus, throwing one's whole self into a battle is the way of the Mandalore, hopefully leaving behind any weakness a wielder of the Force could use against them. Kesh follows this sentiment even now, showing distrust and hostility towards Jedi - rarely letting his guard down or thoughts slip.

- A medical bag carrying the essentials, along with a few secured containers of kolto - expensive stuff.
- Cortosis vibroblade, a Zabrak classic.
- Holdout pistol, nice and concealable.
- A combat suit, basic protection used by Republic troops and mercenaries all across the galaxy.


These days, most people don't know about the real beginning of the Mandalorian Wars. They forget just how long they rampaged through the Outer Rim before Revan or even the Republic stepped in to stop them. They burned a lot of worlds, and every time they did they took whatever they needed to hit the next - resources, weapons.


I don't really remember where I was born, but I know it was an Iridonian colony - there were plenty of those on the fringes that got hit first. I think the Mandalorians liked killing us, Zabraks are tough and we'd never beg for mercy, I know my parents didn't. I wish I knew more about them, every time I try and think about them all I can remember is the fighting - then their bodies in the dirt as the Mandalorians torched the fields.

I guess I wasn't old enough to be worth killing but not entirely useless. They mostly used me for the menial stuff carrying munitions, but I watched and learned quick. I taught myself how to cook and clean a wound, and soon I found I had a place there - I was appreciated, I felt like I belonged with them.

Yes, they were butchers, murderers and savages. But they were also warriors, proud and strong - even gentle. Jurgen was my squad leader, but I came to know him as something more. As I grew older he taught me what I needed to help the unit, he showed me how to hunt and survive and when the need arose - to fight and kill.

When Revan finally faced the Mandalorians they found a challenge finally worth facing. I still remember how their excitement turned as they began to be pushed back, Revan was not only their equal - he would be their doom. Soon, I donned the armor of their clan and joined them in battle. I could never forgive them for what they did to my people, but for a time I felt I had a place there - shoulder to shoulder with them. I felt I had a family.

After Malachor, it didn't really matter though. The Mandalorians lost, anyone on the surface of that cursed planet were obliterated in an instant and those who survived? We were stripped of our weapons, armor, and Basilisks and were forced to watch as Revan's soldiers destroyed them - leaving us with nothing but the honor of fighting in the battle we had just lost, perhaps the greatest our people would've ever seen. Then, we were sent into exile on the outer rim, left to wander the worlds left scarred by the war.

I was nothing after Malachor, just another refugee among millions left alone after the war. A lot of us became mercenaries or went raiding trying to relive the glory days but not me, I drifted for a while. I saw the worlds the Mandalorians left behind, I think I needed to know that they deserved what happened at Malachor - I'm still not sure they did.

Ended up in the Nar Shaddaa refugee sector like the rest of them, creditless and angry. One day I just got tired of it all, all the hurting and the scars. I wanted to feel like I was helping, I couldn't just watch the galaxy slip further and further into the dark. Not after everything we did.