Nephill Kilner
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Jan 8, 2013
- Messages
- 516
- Reaction score
- 1
Nephill Kilner, Fringe Mandalorian Protector
NAME: Nephill Kilner, aka “A’den” FACTION: Independent, Mandalorian RANK: Former Mandalorian First Sergeant ACCOLADES AND AWARDS: Recipient of Jaig eyes AFFILIATION: Clan Kilner, Clan Fett, Mandalorian Protectors SPECIES: Human HOMEWORLD: Mandalore AGE: 30 GENDER: Male HEIGHT: 6'4'' WEIGHT: 225 lbs EYES: Black HAIR: Black SKIN: Medium (Olive) DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Diagonal scar running across right cheek below eye, about two inches long, Mythosaur skull tattoo on left arm, Clan emblem tattoo on right arm | STRENGTH: ■■■■■■■■■■ DEXTERITY: ■■■■■■■■■■ CONSTITUTION: ■■■■■■■■■■ INTELLIGENCE: ■■■■■■■■■■ WISDOM: ■■■■■■■■■■ CHARISMA: ■■■■■■■■■■ |
STRENGTH: Nephill is solidly built, with arms, legs, and a torso that ripples with muscles - the result of training since birth for life as a soldier as is the Mandalorian way, and an adult life defined by active combat. He is also known for a disciplined, daily training regimen to maintain his physique.
DEXTERITY: Nephill has very good hand-eye coordination, translating into talented use of weapons (including unarmed). He has trained and accumulated extensive experience as a shooter, and is an above average pilot. He also incorporates a few acrobatic maneuvers into his repertoire.
CONSTITUTION: Exposed to pain since a child, he has been driven to his limits several times in his young life. Has been wounded in action and tortured as prisoner of war.
INTELLIGENCE: Above average intelligence, he is able to memorize and retain relevant knowledge with ease when he applies himself. Informal education up to the secondary school level, supplemented by “street smarts” and lore that can't be found in textbooks.
WISDOM: Not exceptionally good with people, he is able to read emotions and intentions with reasonable proficiency - enough to ensure potential employers will honor an agreement, and that an interrogated subject is being honest.
CHARISMA: A combat leader who led from the front, Nephill knows how and when to inspire those under him. Able to argue or negotiate vigorously. Handsome in a chiseled way - the burden of war weighs his youth down, but gives him a sort of tragic hero persona which can be alluring. Looks older than his age, but his relative youth comes out in special moments.
DEXTERITY: Nephill has very good hand-eye coordination, translating into talented use of weapons (including unarmed). He has trained and accumulated extensive experience as a shooter, and is an above average pilot. He also incorporates a few acrobatic maneuvers into his repertoire.
CONSTITUTION: Exposed to pain since a child, he has been driven to his limits several times in his young life. Has been wounded in action and tortured as prisoner of war.
INTELLIGENCE: Above average intelligence, he is able to memorize and retain relevant knowledge with ease when he applies himself. Informal education up to the secondary school level, supplemented by “street smarts” and lore that can't be found in textbooks.
WISDOM: Not exceptionally good with people, he is able to read emotions and intentions with reasonable proficiency - enough to ensure potential employers will honor an agreement, and that an interrogated subject is being honest.
CHARISMA: A combat leader who led from the front, Nephill knows how and when to inspire those under him. Able to argue or negotiate vigorously. Handsome in a chiseled way - the burden of war weighs his youth down, but gives him a sort of tragic hero persona which can be alluring. Looks older than his age, but his relative youth comes out in special moments.
SKILLS:
Trained in variety of combat skills. Is trained in unarmed combat, and a variety of melee weapons, including vibroblades and “dead blades.” More proficient at shorter weapons like knives or short swords, but not full swords. Trained in use of blasters, slugthrowers, and verpine shatter guns. Able to modify weapons by himself. Has mechanical skills and is able to perform maintenance on certain ships as well as droids. Has computer savvy and can hack systems with the aid of a droid. Can fly starfighters and smaller class capital ships. Speaks Mando’a, Basic, Huttese, and can understand Binary. Is equipped with a variety of unorthodox tactics and fighting styles from his tenure as a gun for hire, which gives him unique capabilities most Mandalorians don't have. Also is a master of the Jakelian knife dance, and proficient in Teras Kasi.
STRENGTHS:
Excellent warrior, whose natural intuition is extraordinary. Bringing with him thirty years of combat experience, he capably can deal with various targets from droids to organics of various sizes, shapes, and abilities - including the ability to wield the Force. Principled and able to become focused to the point of obsessive, he is a valuable ally and gets the job done. He is perceptive of people, the environment, and the circumstances of a situation.
WEAKNESSES:
Neph can be impetuous, and after thirty years of loss and devastation as he's experienced the decline of his people to remnants, his mental health is a bit in question. He particularly struggles with stagnation and feels like he must always be doing something - an addiction to the rush of combat, both on a chemical basis and the fact that he considers it the only way he can contribute to the galaxy. His struggles with vices are a glaring character trait, as he is trying to overcome alcoholism, fast women, and binges of credit-spending. He has also turned into an extremely distrustful man after fighting for the Sith, only to have them unleash genocide on Mandalore.
Excellent warrior, whose natural intuition is extraordinary. Bringing with him thirty years of combat experience, he capably can deal with various targets from droids to organics of various sizes, shapes, and abilities - including the ability to wield the Force. Principled and able to become focused to the point of obsessive, he is a valuable ally and gets the job done. He is perceptive of people, the environment, and the circumstances of a situation.
WEAKNESSES:
Neph can be impetuous, and after thirty years of loss and devastation as he's experienced the decline of his people to remnants, his mental health is a bit in question. He particularly struggles with stagnation and feels like he must always be doing something - an addiction to the rush of combat, both on a chemical basis and the fact that he considers it the only way he can contribute to the galaxy. His struggles with vices are a glaring character trait, as he is trying to overcome alcoholism, fast women, and binges of credit-spending. He has also turned into an extremely distrustful man after fighting for the Sith, only to have them unleash genocide on Mandalore.
Armor:
Black Beskar’gam (beskar alloy) with red markings. Red kama to protect legs and waist from jet pack blast and other shrapnel. Cortosis blade hidden in left wrist gauntlet, jetpack, integrated comlink and targeting system. Hold-out blaster integrated into right wrist gauntlet. Boots have small knives hidden inside of them at the toe and ankle. Small compartments in leg greaves. Jaig eyes on helmet for bravery during the Mandalorian Civil War.
Helmet Systems: Nephill’s buy’ce contains a variety of systems. There are small cameras implanted around his helmet, enabling him to have scrolling 360 degree vision as needed. His ship’s systems are slaved to his helmet computer, so that it can always recognize his position and he can call it to his location. Equipped with low-light and infrared filters, and there is a rangefinder included in his HUD to amplify targeting. These readouts help identify targets and their ranges, as well as critical hit points. Helmet can also zoom up to longer ranges, functioning as a pair of macrobinoculars.
His buy’ce’s computer also can wirelessly connect to data nets, enabling download and upload of data available on the net. There is also a voice modulator to conceal his voice or enable his speech to be changed into an alien dialect (requires knowledge of language). There are audio and video recorders as well. Helmet functions are controlled by eye movements. Through the helmet’s antenna, he is able to send medium-range communications as well as receive, and also supports encrypted comms.
Also included are readouts of his vital functions, and an automated systems that can dispense emergency fluids (pharmaceuticals and other chemical agents) into his body through his body plates. Helmet is atmospherically sealed and connects to oxygen supply so that he can survive in a vacuum for forty minutes. There is also a filter system that can filter out undesired smells or poisons, separating the oxygen and other normal breathable elements for humans in a foreign atmosphere.
Helmet computer is versatile and very programmable.
Helmet systems powered by batteries installed beneath the helmet’s beskar’gam, and are rechargeable – there is a small conduit that he can plug into any energy generator to recharge. Helmet’s T-visor is made out of sturdy transparent material, and is equipped with photosensors that dim the effects of sudden flashes.
Body: Nephill’s armor was fashioned by the most elite smiths of Mandalore. Commissioned upon reaching manhood by his father, it is expertly constructed with beskar alloy laid over a composite weave fabric that allows his joints free range of motion under the relatively heavy plates.
As of now, it is painted black with red markings. Nephill also can be found wearing a red kama most of the time, which is used to protect his legs from the down blast of his jetpack and other battlefield shrapnel.
Within the protective armor, which is capable of repelling various weapons and is atmospherically sealed with its own life support systems, are a variety of hidden weapons.
In his left wrist gauntlet, a switch activated cortosis blade is hidden. Measuring one and a half meters, it is curved and sharpened to a point, and can be used in a number of situations, cutting and stabbing with ease. Its qualities enable its effectiveness against lightsabers and can absorb blaster bolts as needed. Its effectiveness against Jedi or Sith makes it a must have for the Mandalorian, and walks hand in hand with his use of the lightsaber proof Verpine shatter gun.
On his right wrist gauntlet, a heavy blaster pistol is integrated into his armor, drawing its power from rechargeable power packs hidden further up the arm greave. Capable of firing several shots per minute before needing to recharge, it is used as a capable hold out weapon in more dire situations. Next to the pistol barrel there is a second slot that Nephill interchanges weapons with. Sometimes it contains a poison dart launcher or flamethrower. He places his weapons into the slot as dictated by the circumstances of his current mission.
Attached to the more private parts of his armor is a waste recycling system that collects fluids and recycles them. Although unpleasant, it can be a lifesaver on extended missions. On his back is an oxygen supply with forty minutes worth of air, and coupled with environmental systems allow him to survive even in a vacuum.
His armor is also custom fitted to his frame, and he has had it modified to fit his body as he grew and changed. It fits perfectly to him like a second skin, and as a result holds the highest level of comfort armor can achieve. Although slowing him down with its weight, his motions are relatively smooth, and he can even sleep in the armor (which he has done before) relatively comfortably.
In his right boot is hidden a short vibroblade, and in the left boot is hidden a poisoned blade with a neurotoxin. These are also used in desperate situations, and he switches between them depending on the situation.
Weapons:
[*]Underbarrel attachments and accessories for weapons include rangefinders, poison darts (neurotoxins, viruses, bacteriums, parasites), flamethrowers, grenade launchers (armor piercing, high explosive), rappelling line launcher, bayonets
Uses blasters in normal fights, uses Verpine Sniper at range to assassinate quietly. Uses Verpine pistol and cortosis blade against Force sensitive targets. Beskad in desperate melee situations or to execute ‘worthy’ targets.
OOC: Verpine Shatter Gun
Black Beskar’gam (beskar alloy) with red markings. Red kama to protect legs and waist from jet pack blast and other shrapnel. Cortosis blade hidden in left wrist gauntlet, jetpack, integrated comlink and targeting system. Hold-out blaster integrated into right wrist gauntlet. Boots have small knives hidden inside of them at the toe and ankle. Small compartments in leg greaves. Jaig eyes on helmet for bravery during the Mandalorian Civil War.
Helmet Systems: Nephill’s buy’ce contains a variety of systems. There are small cameras implanted around his helmet, enabling him to have scrolling 360 degree vision as needed. His ship’s systems are slaved to his helmet computer, so that it can always recognize his position and he can call it to his location. Equipped with low-light and infrared filters, and there is a rangefinder included in his HUD to amplify targeting. These readouts help identify targets and their ranges, as well as critical hit points. Helmet can also zoom up to longer ranges, functioning as a pair of macrobinoculars.
His buy’ce’s computer also can wirelessly connect to data nets, enabling download and upload of data available on the net. There is also a voice modulator to conceal his voice or enable his speech to be changed into an alien dialect (requires knowledge of language). There are audio and video recorders as well. Helmet functions are controlled by eye movements. Through the helmet’s antenna, he is able to send medium-range communications as well as receive, and also supports encrypted comms.
Also included are readouts of his vital functions, and an automated systems that can dispense emergency fluids (pharmaceuticals and other chemical agents) into his body through his body plates. Helmet is atmospherically sealed and connects to oxygen supply so that he can survive in a vacuum for forty minutes. There is also a filter system that can filter out undesired smells or poisons, separating the oxygen and other normal breathable elements for humans in a foreign atmosphere.
Helmet computer is versatile and very programmable.
Helmet systems powered by batteries installed beneath the helmet’s beskar’gam, and are rechargeable – there is a small conduit that he can plug into any energy generator to recharge. Helmet’s T-visor is made out of sturdy transparent material, and is equipped with photosensors that dim the effects of sudden flashes.
Body: Nephill’s armor was fashioned by the most elite smiths of Mandalore. Commissioned upon reaching manhood by his father, it is expertly constructed with beskar alloy laid over a composite weave fabric that allows his joints free range of motion under the relatively heavy plates.
As of now, it is painted black with red markings. Nephill also can be found wearing a red kama most of the time, which is used to protect his legs from the down blast of his jetpack and other battlefield shrapnel.
Within the protective armor, which is capable of repelling various weapons and is atmospherically sealed with its own life support systems, are a variety of hidden weapons.
In his left wrist gauntlet, a switch activated cortosis blade is hidden. Measuring one and a half meters, it is curved and sharpened to a point, and can be used in a number of situations, cutting and stabbing with ease. Its qualities enable its effectiveness against lightsabers and can absorb blaster bolts as needed. Its effectiveness against Jedi or Sith makes it a must have for the Mandalorian, and walks hand in hand with his use of the lightsaber proof Verpine shatter gun.
On his right wrist gauntlet, a heavy blaster pistol is integrated into his armor, drawing its power from rechargeable power packs hidden further up the arm greave. Capable of firing several shots per minute before needing to recharge, it is used as a capable hold out weapon in more dire situations. Next to the pistol barrel there is a second slot that Nephill interchanges weapons with. Sometimes it contains a poison dart launcher or flamethrower. He places his weapons into the slot as dictated by the circumstances of his current mission.
Attached to the more private parts of his armor is a waste recycling system that collects fluids and recycles them. Although unpleasant, it can be a lifesaver on extended missions. On his back is an oxygen supply with forty minutes worth of air, and coupled with environmental systems allow him to survive even in a vacuum.
His armor is also custom fitted to his frame, and he has had it modified to fit his body as he grew and changed. It fits perfectly to him like a second skin, and as a result holds the highest level of comfort armor can achieve. Although slowing him down with its weight, his motions are relatively smooth, and he can even sleep in the armor (which he has done before) relatively comfortably.
In his right boot is hidden a short vibroblade, and in the left boot is hidden a poisoned blade with a neurotoxin. These are also used in desperate situations, and he switches between them depending on the situation.
Weapons:
- Repeating Blaster Carbine w/ Folding Stock and adjustable 1x, 2x, and 4x scope, underbarrel slot
- Collapsible Verpine Sniper Rifle with long range zoom scope
- SSK-7 heavy blaster pistol
- Verpine Shatter Pistol
- Cortosis blade, knives, hold out blaster integrated in armor
- Beskad (carries occasionally, more of a family relic)-folded four times, with jewel encrusted hilt, has a decorated scabbard made of strill hide, over fifteen generations old
[*]Underbarrel attachments and accessories for weapons include rangefinders, poison darts (neurotoxins, viruses, bacteriums, parasites), flamethrowers, grenade launchers (armor piercing, high explosive), rappelling line launcher, bayonets
Uses blasters in normal fights, uses Verpine Sniper at range to assassinate quietly. Uses Verpine pistol and cortosis blade against Force sensitive targets. Beskad in desperate melee situations or to execute ‘worthy’ targets.
OOC: Verpine Shatter Gun
- Ships:
Bui’tsad- Pursuer-class Enforcement Ship, modified with larger cargo hold and with medium laser cannons replacing the blaster cannons
Manufacturer: MandalMotors
Production Line: SAG Series
Model: Stathas-class Adaptive Gunship "SAG"
Modularity: Moderate (modular weapon mounts, adaptive hull, convertible cargo bays)
Composition: Titanium-Reinforced Quadranium (hull & superstructure), Fiberplast (movable exterior panels), Glasteel (viewports), Durasteel (viewport shutters & weapon station shutters), Nightshadow (coating around the capacitor, main cargo bay, docking arm, & all weapon stations)
Classification: Corvette
Length: 120 m
Power Core Generator/Reactor: MandalMotors KSG-7 Power Generator (1), Emergency Power Cells (4)
Hyperdrive Rating: Class .5 (class 4.0 backup)
Minimum Crew: 1
Optimal Crew: 10
Armaments:
- Ion Cannons (3; single-barrel configuration; one in the bow, one port, one starboard)
- Mass Driver Cannons (2; single-barrel configuration; one port, one starboard)
- Heavy Laser Cannons (8; single-barrel configuration; two in the bow, three port, three starboard)
- Concussion Missile Launcher (1; bow)
- Military Grade Shield Generators (2; dual-layer configuration)
Non-Combative Attachments:
- Military Grade Sensor Array
- Standard Navigation Module
- Advanced Life Support Module
- Transponder Randomizer (mimics transponder codes of old or captured ships; requires frequent updates)
- Extendable Docking Arm (for forced boarding operations; equipped with industrial grade laser drill)
- Chaff Launchers (3; one in the bow, one port, one starboard)
- Tractor Beam Projectors (5; one in the bow, one ventral, one dorsal, one port, one starboard)
- Escape Pods (6; three port, three starboard)
- Maintenance Drones (12; small droids that can be deployed to repair minor damage or assist in constructing more extravagant disguises using an internal store of fiberplast panels and durasteel plates)
- HoloNet Transceiver with encryption capabilities
- Sublight Engine Dampeners
Passenger Capacity: Variable (cargo bays can be converted into troop bays with very little modification)
Cargo Capacity: 1,500 metric tons
Consumables: 6 standard months
Sublight Speed and Maneuverability: 90 MGLT (moderate speed and maneuverability)
Role: Pirate Corvette, Armed Troop Transport, Armed Cargo Freighter, Patrol Ship, Picket Ship
Description:
“With the push of a button, hundreds of specially coated fiberplast panels on the hull can change color, then rearrange themselves to mimic the outward appearance of various bulk freighters and civilian transports. With the push of another, they can slide aside to reveal sensor-masked weapon ports and a thickly armored hull. Like its namesake, the Stathas is a predator in disguise. It is a light, deadly warship built to ambush unwary prey, reel them in, and allow marines to storm aboard quickly and safely.
It is also a useful troop transport and smuggling ship, more than capable of disguising itself and inserting soldiers or supplies deep behind enemy lines.”
Nephill, once becoming a Mandalorian Protector, decided that in order to perform his duties to the maximum extent of his abilities, that a new and superior ship was required instead of his aging and modest Pursuer-class enforcement ship.
Using his wealth, contacts and friends in MandalMotors to purchase a shiny new-hull – the SAG. Perfect for the unorthodox missions he sometimes embarked on, and incredibly powerful, Nephill was quite delighted with his purchase. He had several personal modifications done to the stealth military version he bought.
These include a faster Hyperdrive, encrypted HoloNet transceiver, sublight engine dampeners (which eliminate engine byproducts to avoid being tracked), and slave circuits to centralize crew tasks so that one man (two comfortably) can pilot the corvette sized ship. Nephill purchased an advanced pilot droid specially for the craft, and between the dubbed PG-9, Cuir’ika, and himself, the ship is well operated.
The expensive cost of the stock ship and his modifications have emptied many of his accounts, but he believes the ship to be worth every credit. - Droids:
Cuir’ika-R4 Astromech Unit who helps maintain the ship, plot courses, and hack computer systems
PG-9-Advanced piloting droid
- Real Estate: Clan Kilner Ranch on Mandalore-40 acres of bombed out property from the Sith invasion
- Other: Jedi lightsaber found on field of battle, owner unknown, kept for possible sale later on; pieces from his dead parents’ beskar’gam, which are scorched and missing pieces from the crash, for possible restoration later
- Medals:
Nephill embodies the Mandalorian mercenary personality. If his hard-earned respect can be won, he will fight to the death with you. Everyone else must prove themselves and until then will be viewed as temporary. Borne of a very pragmatic life perspective, he does have a sense of righteousness and feels uncomfortable with the immoral. He is also fiercely loyal and takes the mantle of Mandalorian protector mortally serious.
His bravado can sometimes be interpreted as reckless or cocky, but is usually backed up by his skill. He remains calm and focused under fire, and usually passion on the battlefield can be turned by him into an asset.
Loss is the preeminent motif in his life, and he struggles to have genuine connections with other beings (especially females) - his iron relationship with his droid, however, indicates that his heart isn't frozen over. His struggles with vices can also be a source of alienation, and he is still weaning himself off of them and trying to return to his disciplined soldier's roots.
As a result of his isolated lifestyle and slightly addled mind, he can be paranoid. He clings to his family legacy as the only thing he has left, but is intimidated by it and the pressure to keep the clan alive.
His bravado can sometimes be interpreted as reckless or cocky, but is usually backed up by his skill. He remains calm and focused under fire, and usually passion on the battlefield can be turned by him into an asset.
Loss is the preeminent motif in his life, and he struggles to have genuine connections with other beings (especially females) - his iron relationship with his droid, however, indicates that his heart isn't frozen over. His struggles with vices can also be a source of alienation, and he is still weaning himself off of them and trying to return to his disciplined soldier's roots.
As a result of his isolated lifestyle and slightly addled mind, he can be paranoid. He clings to his family legacy as the only thing he has left, but is intimidated by it and the pressure to keep the clan alive.
Nephill is the first born son of two Mandalorians. His father, Kom’rk Kilner, was the last of the once magnificent Clan Kilner. He married a Mandalorian girl from Clan Fett named Sarad. Within two years of marriage, Nephill was produced, named after an aruetii (non-Mandalorian) colleague of his father’s. Within one year’s time a daughter was born to the two, and she was named Cyare.
The two were raised on Mandalore, their parents educating them in the ways of the Mandalorians as strict adherents to the Resol’nare. Nephill showed precocious aptitude in his training, which began in full at age seven. Many in the community predicted he would become a great warrior who would help lead the Mandalorians and reclaim their former glory. Meanwhile, his sister grew into a stunningly beautiful young woman, with the loving soft side that Nephill was short on. Her training in the art of war was supplemented with a specialization in healing.
A peaceful life maintaining the vast Clan Kilner Ranch was interrupted by the start of the Second Mandalorian Civil War. The Clan threw their allegiances in with the Loyalists, as the Clan was dominated by younger, freer-thinking individuals who bought heavily into the envisioned new society. Nephill himself felt that the proposed societal changes went against the very principles of the Resol’nare, but could not bring himself to fight against his own blood. His family shared his sentiments, but his parents felt compelled to participate and could not stand out of a fight where Kilners were dying.
In the fighting, Neph threw his all into the conflict, resolving that if he was going to stand by the Loyalist cause, he had to make his way into the group of elites at the top of the new caste system and hope to influence a retaining of some of the core traditional values. The conflict tore at his soul to kill fellow brothers and sisters, but his skill meant he made a name for himself as one of the Loyalist’s best jet troopers. He was honored with a few decorations, which he detested as an aruetii practice. As the war progressed, his clan continued to lose members.
The breaking point came eventually one fateful day. During the Battle of Fenris, his entire surviving clan holed up in the Loyalist fortress and prepared for to withstand the siege set by the surrounding Separatist force. Nephill ventured out of the fortress on his own, disillusioned with the cause and resolving that he could kill no more Mando’ad. He decided he would try to broker peace – or die trying. There was no honor in this conflict anymore.
It was then, trekking to the Separatist camp, he witnessed with his own eyes the fortress’s destruction. A thousand Mandalorians, obliterated in a ball of fire. A teary search of the remains found only pieces of his family’s beskar’gam. Nephill joined the Separatists, painting over his armor’s previous orange scheme with the black of mourning and red to honor his lost kin. With all of his clan members dead, he was able to turn his back on the Loyalists and threw himself fervently into the action with the Separatists, finally fighting for what he really believed in. He saw the Loyalist cause as an infection that had to be eradicated at all costs - an infection that had poisoned his family’s minds.
With the conflict’s conclusion, and upon being satisfied the Loyalist cause would never rise again, he left his own kind, not being able to handle another day surrounded by T-visors that would only revived painful memories and powerful emotions.
Convinced he had to stay alive and find some way to continue the Kilner line, he became addicted to traveling from seedy cantina to seedy cantina, indulging himself in drinking and fast women. He spent many nights passed out at the bar, and waking in the morning in the mud outside after being thrown out. His inheritance was gone after a few months of squandering.
For two years he took mercenary contracts, killing, capturing, rescuing, anything to earn a few creds. All of course to fund future nights in which to spend enjoying a gallon of tihaar and a girl on each arm. He established a reputation for himself as an effective gun for hire, and was able to charge more on contracts with employers who actively pursued him. Towards the end of this two year period, he was earning more than he was spending in wild nights of partying.
When war with the GA broke out, Nephill watched from the sidelines warily as the Mandalorians allied themselves with the Sith. Unsure of a course of action, he sat out the first few battles. Former comrades called on him to join them, and eventually asked him how he could have honor if he did not fight.
Consolidating his remaining wealth into safe accounts, he returned to Mandalore and joined the Mandalorian Protectors, seeing action at Alsakan and other battles. A distrustful man and cynic, he was wary when the Sith cause eventually triumphed and predicted it would only be a matter of time before one of the major factions decided they didn't need the Mandalorians anymore. With the Mand'alor's death, Neph worked with a network of close comrades to defend his own ranch and that of others. It was through this system he was able to emerge from the period of clan infighting relatively intact.
When the Sith invaded Mandalore, this small-scale network was overwhelmed and Neph was forced to abandon the ranch he loved so much as the Mandalorian homeworld fell. Destitute and without a cause, he has returned to bounty hunting and mercenary work as a way to make means meet.
He has taken note that the remnants of his people have joined the Rebellion. Neph hesitates, as he knows the Alliance remnant will likely be aware of his reputation as a Jedi-killer from the first war, and he remains extremely distrustful of either of the major factions - remembering how Mando'ade blood spilled for the Empire only made them more vulnerable to the eventual genocide. He's aware of how the chess players only use the Mandalorians when they are useful, and discard them as potential threats when they achieve Mando-assisted undisputed power. As a Mandalorian whose young life is dominated by the loss and devastation of his people, he has turned into a cynical and dangerously bitter supersoldier.
For now, he keeps the Mandalorian culture and way alive on the fringe. Should a more apparent Mandalorian leader appear, and a dichotomy between Mandalorian interests and aruetii interests become more clear, he will look to join the new war. One of his personal sentiments is that a major faction should make substantial guarantees regarding the rebuilding of fallen Mandalore.
Against all odds
The two were raised on Mandalore, their parents educating them in the ways of the Mandalorians as strict adherents to the Resol’nare. Nephill showed precocious aptitude in his training, which began in full at age seven. Many in the community predicted he would become a great warrior who would help lead the Mandalorians and reclaim their former glory. Meanwhile, his sister grew into a stunningly beautiful young woman, with the loving soft side that Nephill was short on. Her training in the art of war was supplemented with a specialization in healing.
A peaceful life maintaining the vast Clan Kilner Ranch was interrupted by the start of the Second Mandalorian Civil War. The Clan threw their allegiances in with the Loyalists, as the Clan was dominated by younger, freer-thinking individuals who bought heavily into the envisioned new society. Nephill himself felt that the proposed societal changes went against the very principles of the Resol’nare, but could not bring himself to fight against his own blood. His family shared his sentiments, but his parents felt compelled to participate and could not stand out of a fight where Kilners were dying.
In the fighting, Neph threw his all into the conflict, resolving that if he was going to stand by the Loyalist cause, he had to make his way into the group of elites at the top of the new caste system and hope to influence a retaining of some of the core traditional values. The conflict tore at his soul to kill fellow brothers and sisters, but his skill meant he made a name for himself as one of the Loyalist’s best jet troopers. He was honored with a few decorations, which he detested as an aruetii practice. As the war progressed, his clan continued to lose members.
The breaking point came eventually one fateful day. During the Battle of Fenris, his entire surviving clan holed up in the Loyalist fortress and prepared for to withstand the siege set by the surrounding Separatist force. Nephill ventured out of the fortress on his own, disillusioned with the cause and resolving that he could kill no more Mando’ad. He decided he would try to broker peace – or die trying. There was no honor in this conflict anymore.
It was then, trekking to the Separatist camp, he witnessed with his own eyes the fortress’s destruction. A thousand Mandalorians, obliterated in a ball of fire. A teary search of the remains found only pieces of his family’s beskar’gam. Nephill joined the Separatists, painting over his armor’s previous orange scheme with the black of mourning and red to honor his lost kin. With all of his clan members dead, he was able to turn his back on the Loyalists and threw himself fervently into the action with the Separatists, finally fighting for what he really believed in. He saw the Loyalist cause as an infection that had to be eradicated at all costs - an infection that had poisoned his family’s minds.
With the conflict’s conclusion, and upon being satisfied the Loyalist cause would never rise again, he left his own kind, not being able to handle another day surrounded by T-visors that would only revived painful memories and powerful emotions.
Convinced he had to stay alive and find some way to continue the Kilner line, he became addicted to traveling from seedy cantina to seedy cantina, indulging himself in drinking and fast women. He spent many nights passed out at the bar, and waking in the morning in the mud outside after being thrown out. His inheritance was gone after a few months of squandering.
For two years he took mercenary contracts, killing, capturing, rescuing, anything to earn a few creds. All of course to fund future nights in which to spend enjoying a gallon of tihaar and a girl on each arm. He established a reputation for himself as an effective gun for hire, and was able to charge more on contracts with employers who actively pursued him. Towards the end of this two year period, he was earning more than he was spending in wild nights of partying.
When war with the GA broke out, Nephill watched from the sidelines warily as the Mandalorians allied themselves with the Sith. Unsure of a course of action, he sat out the first few battles. Former comrades called on him to join them, and eventually asked him how he could have honor if he did not fight.
Consolidating his remaining wealth into safe accounts, he returned to Mandalore and joined the Mandalorian Protectors, seeing action at Alsakan and other battles. A distrustful man and cynic, he was wary when the Sith cause eventually triumphed and predicted it would only be a matter of time before one of the major factions decided they didn't need the Mandalorians anymore. With the Mand'alor's death, Neph worked with a network of close comrades to defend his own ranch and that of others. It was through this system he was able to emerge from the period of clan infighting relatively intact.
When the Sith invaded Mandalore, this small-scale network was overwhelmed and Neph was forced to abandon the ranch he loved so much as the Mandalorian homeworld fell. Destitute and without a cause, he has returned to bounty hunting and mercenary work as a way to make means meet.
He has taken note that the remnants of his people have joined the Rebellion. Neph hesitates, as he knows the Alliance remnant will likely be aware of his reputation as a Jedi-killer from the first war, and he remains extremely distrustful of either of the major factions - remembering how Mando'ade blood spilled for the Empire only made them more vulnerable to the eventual genocide. He's aware of how the chess players only use the Mandalorians when they are useful, and discard them as potential threats when they achieve Mando-assisted undisputed power. As a Mandalorian whose young life is dominated by the loss and devastation of his people, he has turned into a cynical and dangerously bitter supersoldier.
For now, he keeps the Mandalorian culture and way alive on the fringe. Should a more apparent Mandalorian leader appear, and a dichotomy between Mandalorian interests and aruetii interests become more clear, he will look to join the new war. One of his personal sentiments is that a major faction should make substantial guarantees regarding the rebuilding of fallen Mandalore.
Against all odds
Coruscant.
City of light and grandeur.
Much too metallic for his tastes. And superficial. And the fashion trends were downright ridiculous.
Nephill had been laying prone on the rooftop of the “Hotel Calumbria” (Five stars with excellent accommodations that he would endorse any day) for about five hours now. Plenty of time to take in all the sights that Coruscant had to offer.
And plenty of time, of course, to wonder where in holy horan Senator Max Pavilos was. This was beyond the absolutely horrendous time-keeping abilities of most legislators, for which alone the Senator deserved to die. The flight pad attendants had given up on standing at attention after the first hour, and had embarked on the longest game of cards the Mandalorian had ever seen. He had grown bored of watching the five guards gamble with ten credit chips after thee second hour and switched to observing the foot traffic passing on the below street. Nephill was about two hundred stories above the street, and the landing platform hovered a mere five stories above the street itself, allowing an actual staircase to lead down from it.
Max Pavilos had ignored the mining lobby for too long now. His repeated refusals to authorize mining in the asteroids of his system even with the promise of generous bribes necessitated a regime change.
The assassin before him had already failed to kill the man with poison, and his security team was alert now. That’s why Nephill had been called in. After slotting his unsuccessful predecessor, Nephill had begun a lengthy planning process. After slicing into the man’s schedule, which was encrypted by his security staff, he arrived a full half week early to take full scope of the location.
On first appearances, it seemed way too easy. An exposed landing platform? Five guards to receive him? Obviously something larger was at hand. This screamed trap.
Half a week of surveillance had been plenty of time to uncover the scheme. Snipers from the Coruscanti police force, undercover, had been taking positions in towers up to five hundred stories high, all around the platform. Armed with long range rifles and scopes, they had divided the surrounding area into quadrants that each team watched. Nephill had taken the time to identify each team and its assigned quadrant. Twenty teams of two men each were guarding the landing platform, waiting for him to stick his head out.
He had chosen the hotel because it sat in the weakest point of visibility for the police. There were communications dishes that linked up to the entertainment net that he was hiding in, and the hotel was a dividing point between two quadrants. It would be difficult for them to spot him or hit him if they did. He had plenty of cover and over a thousand rooms inside to hide in.
The tricky part was the non-sniper teams.
A full five speeders armed with twenty high-trained special forces troops were stationed in the highest roofs, waiting for the assassin to show himself to be captured and interrogated. The GA was not taking a chance in losing the Senator – the alliance was already plagued with enough negative PR as it was.
But the Coruscantis had nothing on Nephill.
Armed with a high powered, long range Verpine shatter rifle, he was sitting a full half mile away from the landing platform. And when he fired, his weapon was not only recoiless and deadly fast, it was relatively silent. All that would give him away was a small flash of light that even his carefully crafted flash suppressor couldn’t completely eliminate. His hope was that the flash would blend right in with the evening traffic of the capital world - a small gamble in his mind.
The hard part would be determining which man was actually the Senator. There would most likely be a decoy in place wearing protective gear under his clothes, and the Senator would be disguised as part of the entourage or bodyguard unit. The trick was figuring which man out of thirty was the Senator.
Facial recognition would take too long; the group would be on the platform for less than a minute. Faces and body types were too easy to obscure.
But the Senator was a politician, not an intelligence agent. He always wore a family heirloom, his mother’s engagement ring on a simple chain around his neck. And what was most interesting was that the crown jewel on the ring exerted a certain magnetic resonance that he could detect through the man’s clothes.
It had taken him weeks to discover the existence and the significance of the man’s ring. Before he had found it, his only plan was a direct assault in the middle of the night on the man’s suite. Although much more exciting, it was too high-risk.
Purchasing the rare scanner needed to detect the magnetic resonance at range, he had it attached to an amplifier on his rifle. He would be able to find his mark.
Of course, there were plenty of things that could go wrong. If the man didn’t wear the necklace, for whatever reason, the plan would have to be aborted. If he wore heavy layers or armor or clothing that masked the resonance, the plan would be aborted.
There might be a direct assault just yet. Nephill smiled at the thought. He relished a good jetpack assault in the dead of night.
Game time. He cleared his mind of thoughts and tensed up as adrenaline flooded his veins. The Senator’s shuttle had finally appeared.
Drifting his sights away from a most exquisite female wearing a most interesting dress, he centered his sights on the landing ramp of the now descending shuttle. The security guards scrambled into formation and attention as the landing struts touched down. No doubt the delay in schedule was yet another ploy to foil an assassination attempt. It would take more than that to dissuade Nephill. Months of military scouting campaigns had taught him how to relax in ways that allowed him to remain comfortable in his armor for days.
He had no love for the Alliance. He had no qualms about today’s “mission.” Palix would not leave the platform alive.
The shuttle’s ramp slammed onto the pad, and its passengers exited. Rows of three ten lines long, with the “Senator” at the head, flanked by bodyguards and finishing with dignitaries in the rear. Nephill turned on the scanner, which would show the necklace on his scope as a ghost blue image.
Nephill took slow, deep breaths, holding it at times as he moved his rifle with minute movements. It was supported by the roof’s edge, and he had secured it on with bolts to prevent shifting.
Three ghostly images appeared on his scope. On the man dressed in Senatorial robes, a bodyguard, and a richly dressed dignitary in the back!
Curses began to stream in his mind. What in the blazes! Bad, bad luck. They must’ve planned it that way. His mind ran at lightspeed. The Senator would NEVER refuse to not wear the necklace, as it was his only belonging from his deceased family. Therefore he WAS one of the beings wearing the ghostly blue image around his neck. But which one?
He had no choice and no time. He could either leave, or…
Nephill inhaled sharply and held his breath. He centered his sights on the man in the Senatorial robes. On the man’s exposed forehead. He squeezed. A brief flash from his muzzle, and not even a second later the man collapsed as brain matter and blood splattered everywhere.
Not even watching the man die, he moved his rifle just a tad over to the ducking bodyguard. Squeeze. Right in the man’s eye.
Another quick movement, onto the dignitary who was dropping for cover to the ground. Carefully leading his shot, he squeezed. A miss! The missed round kicked up sparks as it connected with the landing ramp.
Blast it! Two quick squeezes on the man’s back, he had no choice but to aim for the man’s exposed central body mass. Two spurts of blood. Fool wasn’t wearing armor. As the dignitary fell and stopped moving, Nephill fired one last round into the back of the dignitary’s head. He was done.
Exhaling, he quickly leapt to his feet and detached his rifle as blaster rounds began to tear apart the dishes around him. There had been too many flashes to hope to avoid detection.
Dashing back through the open maintenance door that had led up to the roof, he opened a channel through his buy’ce. “Cyur’ika! Bring her over here!” he yelled, and received an affirmative beep in reply.
Jumping down the metal maintenance stairs, he opened a door that entered into the brightly lit hotel lobby. A young Zabrak couple gasped at the man’s entry, armored and carrying a weapon. The female screamed.
Ignoring them, Nephill sprinted down the hallway and slung his rifle over his shoulder while drawing his blaster pistol in a fluid motion. Room 276. “No entry please” hung from the handle. He fired at the door lock and kicked it through, and swore when he saw it was occupied. Two young lovers laid gasping in bed, and turned in shock when he entered.
Firing his pistol at the balcony window, shattering it, he saw his ship appear and hover. Dashing out onto the balcony and firing up his jetpack, he flew into the ship’s open landing ramp.
It wasn’t over yet. He felt the ship ascending even as he made his way to the ship’s cockpit, and spied his loyal R4 astromech unit, Cyur’ika, plugged into the ship’s computer and flying them into atmosphere. He had a homing beacon in his armor that Cyur’ika could read with the ship’s sensors, leading him to his exact location.
And the droid was smart. Able to predict his plans in a way only a sidekick of years of adventures could.
The ship was fast, and Nephill a skilled pilot. They were in atmosphere in seconds, and could see on their scopes maneuvering ships of the planet’s orbiting fleet moving to intercept him. Five fighters on his scopes.
Ignoring him, he pulled up the pre-programmed Hyperdrive route and pushed the ship for all it had. The fighters were still closing, and he fired a few scattered laser cannon shots to force the formation to break apart. Five seconds. The cruisers would never reach him in time.
But the fighters would. Laser cannon shots battered away at his shields, and Nephill watched his shelding capability get ripped apart. He retuned scattered fire, but he couldn’t maneuver and shoot accurately at the same damn time. The Bui’tsad would have to just hold together like she had all those times before.
Four seconds. Red lights flashing now as the fighters danced around him. The Alliance still had motivated, skilled pilots. Blast the aruetii!
Three seconds. Shielding capability almost gone. He could see the laser bolts that missed in his scope as the ship rattled, its reactor straining to provide enough power. Only the planet’s gravity well was preventing him his jump to the pre-loaded navicomputer route.
Two seconds. Shields gone. His fingers tapped impatiently on the hyperdrive handle.
One second. The ship lurched and the sensors screamed. Alarms sounded now and he could hear the hydraulics hissing.
Zero. He pulled back on the hyperdrive handle, and the stars turned into lines.
Nephill collapsed back into his seat as Cyur’ika gave a victory squeal. Mission accomplished.
City of light and grandeur.
Much too metallic for his tastes. And superficial. And the fashion trends were downright ridiculous.
Nephill had been laying prone on the rooftop of the “Hotel Calumbria” (Five stars with excellent accommodations that he would endorse any day) for about five hours now. Plenty of time to take in all the sights that Coruscant had to offer.
And plenty of time, of course, to wonder where in holy horan Senator Max Pavilos was. This was beyond the absolutely horrendous time-keeping abilities of most legislators, for which alone the Senator deserved to die. The flight pad attendants had given up on standing at attention after the first hour, and had embarked on the longest game of cards the Mandalorian had ever seen. He had grown bored of watching the five guards gamble with ten credit chips after thee second hour and switched to observing the foot traffic passing on the below street. Nephill was about two hundred stories above the street, and the landing platform hovered a mere five stories above the street itself, allowing an actual staircase to lead down from it.
Max Pavilos had ignored the mining lobby for too long now. His repeated refusals to authorize mining in the asteroids of his system even with the promise of generous bribes necessitated a regime change.
The assassin before him had already failed to kill the man with poison, and his security team was alert now. That’s why Nephill had been called in. After slotting his unsuccessful predecessor, Nephill had begun a lengthy planning process. After slicing into the man’s schedule, which was encrypted by his security staff, he arrived a full half week early to take full scope of the location.
On first appearances, it seemed way too easy. An exposed landing platform? Five guards to receive him? Obviously something larger was at hand. This screamed trap.
Half a week of surveillance had been plenty of time to uncover the scheme. Snipers from the Coruscanti police force, undercover, had been taking positions in towers up to five hundred stories high, all around the platform. Armed with long range rifles and scopes, they had divided the surrounding area into quadrants that each team watched. Nephill had taken the time to identify each team and its assigned quadrant. Twenty teams of two men each were guarding the landing platform, waiting for him to stick his head out.
He had chosen the hotel because it sat in the weakest point of visibility for the police. There were communications dishes that linked up to the entertainment net that he was hiding in, and the hotel was a dividing point between two quadrants. It would be difficult for them to spot him or hit him if they did. He had plenty of cover and over a thousand rooms inside to hide in.
The tricky part was the non-sniper teams.
A full five speeders armed with twenty high-trained special forces troops were stationed in the highest roofs, waiting for the assassin to show himself to be captured and interrogated. The GA was not taking a chance in losing the Senator – the alliance was already plagued with enough negative PR as it was.
But the Coruscantis had nothing on Nephill.
Armed with a high powered, long range Verpine shatter rifle, he was sitting a full half mile away from the landing platform. And when he fired, his weapon was not only recoiless and deadly fast, it was relatively silent. All that would give him away was a small flash of light that even his carefully crafted flash suppressor couldn’t completely eliminate. His hope was that the flash would blend right in with the evening traffic of the capital world - a small gamble in his mind.
The hard part would be determining which man was actually the Senator. There would most likely be a decoy in place wearing protective gear under his clothes, and the Senator would be disguised as part of the entourage or bodyguard unit. The trick was figuring which man out of thirty was the Senator.
Facial recognition would take too long; the group would be on the platform for less than a minute. Faces and body types were too easy to obscure.
But the Senator was a politician, not an intelligence agent. He always wore a family heirloom, his mother’s engagement ring on a simple chain around his neck. And what was most interesting was that the crown jewel on the ring exerted a certain magnetic resonance that he could detect through the man’s clothes.
It had taken him weeks to discover the existence and the significance of the man’s ring. Before he had found it, his only plan was a direct assault in the middle of the night on the man’s suite. Although much more exciting, it was too high-risk.
Purchasing the rare scanner needed to detect the magnetic resonance at range, he had it attached to an amplifier on his rifle. He would be able to find his mark.
Of course, there were plenty of things that could go wrong. If the man didn’t wear the necklace, for whatever reason, the plan would have to be aborted. If he wore heavy layers or armor or clothing that masked the resonance, the plan would be aborted.
There might be a direct assault just yet. Nephill smiled at the thought. He relished a good jetpack assault in the dead of night.
Game time. He cleared his mind of thoughts and tensed up as adrenaline flooded his veins. The Senator’s shuttle had finally appeared.
Drifting his sights away from a most exquisite female wearing a most interesting dress, he centered his sights on the landing ramp of the now descending shuttle. The security guards scrambled into formation and attention as the landing struts touched down. No doubt the delay in schedule was yet another ploy to foil an assassination attempt. It would take more than that to dissuade Nephill. Months of military scouting campaigns had taught him how to relax in ways that allowed him to remain comfortable in his armor for days.
He had no love for the Alliance. He had no qualms about today’s “mission.” Palix would not leave the platform alive.
The shuttle’s ramp slammed onto the pad, and its passengers exited. Rows of three ten lines long, with the “Senator” at the head, flanked by bodyguards and finishing with dignitaries in the rear. Nephill turned on the scanner, which would show the necklace on his scope as a ghost blue image.
Nephill took slow, deep breaths, holding it at times as he moved his rifle with minute movements. It was supported by the roof’s edge, and he had secured it on with bolts to prevent shifting.
Three ghostly images appeared on his scope. On the man dressed in Senatorial robes, a bodyguard, and a richly dressed dignitary in the back!
Curses began to stream in his mind. What in the blazes! Bad, bad luck. They must’ve planned it that way. His mind ran at lightspeed. The Senator would NEVER refuse to not wear the necklace, as it was his only belonging from his deceased family. Therefore he WAS one of the beings wearing the ghostly blue image around his neck. But which one?
He had no choice and no time. He could either leave, or…
Nephill inhaled sharply and held his breath. He centered his sights on the man in the Senatorial robes. On the man’s exposed forehead. He squeezed. A brief flash from his muzzle, and not even a second later the man collapsed as brain matter and blood splattered everywhere.
Not even watching the man die, he moved his rifle just a tad over to the ducking bodyguard. Squeeze. Right in the man’s eye.
Another quick movement, onto the dignitary who was dropping for cover to the ground. Carefully leading his shot, he squeezed. A miss! The missed round kicked up sparks as it connected with the landing ramp.
Blast it! Two quick squeezes on the man’s back, he had no choice but to aim for the man’s exposed central body mass. Two spurts of blood. Fool wasn’t wearing armor. As the dignitary fell and stopped moving, Nephill fired one last round into the back of the dignitary’s head. He was done.
Exhaling, he quickly leapt to his feet and detached his rifle as blaster rounds began to tear apart the dishes around him. There had been too many flashes to hope to avoid detection.
Dashing back through the open maintenance door that had led up to the roof, he opened a channel through his buy’ce. “Cyur’ika! Bring her over here!” he yelled, and received an affirmative beep in reply.
Jumping down the metal maintenance stairs, he opened a door that entered into the brightly lit hotel lobby. A young Zabrak couple gasped at the man’s entry, armored and carrying a weapon. The female screamed.
Ignoring them, Nephill sprinted down the hallway and slung his rifle over his shoulder while drawing his blaster pistol in a fluid motion. Room 276. “No entry please” hung from the handle. He fired at the door lock and kicked it through, and swore when he saw it was occupied. Two young lovers laid gasping in bed, and turned in shock when he entered.
Firing his pistol at the balcony window, shattering it, he saw his ship appear and hover. Dashing out onto the balcony and firing up his jetpack, he flew into the ship’s open landing ramp.
It wasn’t over yet. He felt the ship ascending even as he made his way to the ship’s cockpit, and spied his loyal R4 astromech unit, Cyur’ika, plugged into the ship’s computer and flying them into atmosphere. He had a homing beacon in his armor that Cyur’ika could read with the ship’s sensors, leading him to his exact location.
And the droid was smart. Able to predict his plans in a way only a sidekick of years of adventures could.
The ship was fast, and Nephill a skilled pilot. They were in atmosphere in seconds, and could see on their scopes maneuvering ships of the planet’s orbiting fleet moving to intercept him. Five fighters on his scopes.
Ignoring him, he pulled up the pre-programmed Hyperdrive route and pushed the ship for all it had. The fighters were still closing, and he fired a few scattered laser cannon shots to force the formation to break apart. Five seconds. The cruisers would never reach him in time.
But the fighters would. Laser cannon shots battered away at his shields, and Nephill watched his shelding capability get ripped apart. He retuned scattered fire, but he couldn’t maneuver and shoot accurately at the same damn time. The Bui’tsad would have to just hold together like she had all those times before.
Four seconds. Red lights flashing now as the fighters danced around him. The Alliance still had motivated, skilled pilots. Blast the aruetii!
Three seconds. Shielding capability almost gone. He could see the laser bolts that missed in his scope as the ship rattled, its reactor straining to provide enough power. Only the planet’s gravity well was preventing him his jump to the pre-loaded navicomputer route.
Two seconds. Shields gone. His fingers tapped impatiently on the hyperdrive handle.
One second. The ship lurched and the sensors screamed. Alarms sounded now and he could hear the hydraulics hissing.
Zero. He pulled back on the hyperdrive handle, and the stars turned into lines.
Nephill collapsed back into his seat as Cyur’ika gave a victory squeal. Mission accomplished.
Credit for template: My friend Gaja
Last edited by a moderator:
