- Joined
- Aug 26, 2020
- Messages
- 10
- Reaction score
- 2
Salek Fallanai
AGE
► 19
SPECIES► Half-Miraluka
HEIGHT► 6’2”
WEIGHT► 100 kg
EYE COLOR► White
HAIR COLOR► Dark Brown
HOMEWORLD► Brentaal IV
GENDER► Male
FACTION► Jedi
RANK► Jedi Knight
FORCE SENSITIVITY► Sensitive, Training
BIOGRAPHY
The result of a brief and secret affair between a human mother and a Miralukan father, Salek was blind from birth. His eyes were only partially formed, leaving no visible pupil or iris. Though birth defects are still possible on settled and technologically advanced planets, this came as a shock to his parents and the doctors. They were a young couple struggling to make ends meet; they didn’t have the money to buy expensive replacements, and going to his biological father would have forced his mother to admit what had happened. But the couple loved their son deeply, and they determined that they would help him live a good life through patience and persistence. They taught him to navigate by using touch, hearing, and small inexpensive range-finders that could give him audible warnings of danger.
Despite his handicap, Salek grew up generally happy. He was friendly by nature and naive enough that he didn’t see the strain on his parents’ relationship that his existence caused. He was bullied and isolated in early childhood, but his easygoing nature earned him good friends who kept an eye out for him.
Over the years, things smoothed out. His peers learned to accept him, and his parents grew both closer and more prosperous in their careers. They surprised him on his 10th birthday: his father had gotten his first real bonus at work, and combined with a savings account they had been slowly building up, it was enough to get Salek’s eyes replaced. The family had never been so happy and excited before.
That joy was setting them up for an even greater disappointment, though. The day came for his surgery, and Salek was put under anesthesia. As the doctor prepared to incise the first eye, though, the young boy woke up thrashing and screaming. He was administered more anesthetic, but by the time he had passed back out, his heart and breathing had slowed alarmingly. They barely revived him before he died on the table.
Medical testing could not find anything wrong, but two more attempts at the surgery produced the same results. Finally, the hospital told his father that they would not refund the payment if he insisted on a fourth attempt. With tears in his eyes, he accepted the news and set out to try and find alternate means.
Meanwhile, Salek accepted it as a return to normal, and he went on living life. His mother often traveled to nearby Ithorian herdships to do business with the traveling merchants, and he loved accompanying her on those trips. The musical double-throated language the Ithorians spoke was magical to him, and he sat and listened to them chat in restaurants for hours at a time. Though he could never speak the language, he became fluent enough to understand most of what was said.
On one such trip when he was fifteen, Salek was tottering slowly down the aisles, enjoying the sounds and scents around him, when he heard the raspy double-voice of a truly ancient-sounding Ithorian trilling from his right.
“Young human with stars in his eyes, come closer,” it whispered. Salek turned his head in the direction of the voice and moved his rangefinder around. The speaker seemed to reside between the cart shops, in one of the narrow alleys that connected major tracks through the bazaar. Salek wasn’t an idiot, of course. He decided not to get mugged in an alley and kept walking down the street. However, the voice followed him, seemingly right next to him despite the growing distance.
“Do not be afraid,” it said. “There are things that you need to hear. Things that you must do.”
Despite his justifiable caution, there was something in the voice that compelled Salek to turn back towards it. There was no demand, but rather a subtle entreaty. He decided he could at least step near the alley to hear what the old man had to say. He waited through a moment of silence, then awkwardly broke it.
“Umm, hi. I’m Salek. You, uh...you wanted to talk to me?”
“Indeed, young Fallanai.” Salek wasn’t sure how he heard his last name; most Ithorians used descriptors in place of proper nouns, since they couldn’t form the correct phonemes. Yet his name sounded clear in his head, which was doubly strange. “These are dark times in the galaxy,” it continued. “The Sith seek to reign once again, to bathe the galaxy in bloodshed and terror. The people will cry out for freedom and justice, but they will go unheard. In times past, the Jedi stood strong, a bulwark against the darkness.”
“Apparently not that strong,” Salek interjected with a bitter chuckle. He saw the holovids the same as everyone else, and he knew that his world was a tiny beacon of peace in a vast sea of chaos, a chaos that could swallow them eventually.
“Indeed not strongly enough,” the Ithorian replied in a tone of mournful humility. “Perhaps in the next cycle they will be better able to withstand the storm. But that may only happen if strong people with good hearts open their eyes to the atrocities of this life and stand against them.”
“Just so we’re clear,” Salek responded, “you’re aware of the irony in what you just said, right?”
“The elderly are rarely as foolish as you think. Now please, kneel down. I will give you a gift; what you do with it is your choice. But if you choose to help, to protect those who cannot protect themselves, go to the temple in Jedha. Wait at the gate until you are questioned, and tell them that Resias sent you.”
Hesitant, Salek lowered himself to one knee, listening carefully for any sounds behind him that might indicate an attack. But nothing came. There was a moment of silence expectation, and then three wrinkled fingers pressed against his forehead. Salek gasped and fell back as sensation flooded through him, unfolding like a flower from the center of that touch and coursing through him in electric waves. He lay on the ground, too stunned to move. Eventually voices began to filter through the ringing in his ears, and he realized that a crowd was standing around him.
Salek drew himself to his feet, brushing off helpful questions and guiding hands. He slipped through a hole in the group and made his way back to his mother.
Later at home, he shared his story and then listened to the thousand and one reasons it was stupid of him to think of traveling halfway across the galaxy alone. He wasn’t sure what lay ahead in the future, but something in his very core told him that he could not pass up the chance to help, to be a force for good in the world, whatever form that took. Salek snuck out of his house and found a transport that would take him to Jedha.
Despite his handicap, Salek grew up generally happy. He was friendly by nature and naive enough that he didn’t see the strain on his parents’ relationship that his existence caused. He was bullied and isolated in early childhood, but his easygoing nature earned him good friends who kept an eye out for him.
Over the years, things smoothed out. His peers learned to accept him, and his parents grew both closer and more prosperous in their careers. They surprised him on his 10th birthday: his father had gotten his first real bonus at work, and combined with a savings account they had been slowly building up, it was enough to get Salek’s eyes replaced. The family had never been so happy and excited before.
That joy was setting them up for an even greater disappointment, though. The day came for his surgery, and Salek was put under anesthesia. As the doctor prepared to incise the first eye, though, the young boy woke up thrashing and screaming. He was administered more anesthetic, but by the time he had passed back out, his heart and breathing had slowed alarmingly. They barely revived him before he died on the table.
Medical testing could not find anything wrong, but two more attempts at the surgery produced the same results. Finally, the hospital told his father that they would not refund the payment if he insisted on a fourth attempt. With tears in his eyes, he accepted the news and set out to try and find alternate means.
Meanwhile, Salek accepted it as a return to normal, and he went on living life. His mother often traveled to nearby Ithorian herdships to do business with the traveling merchants, and he loved accompanying her on those trips. The musical double-throated language the Ithorians spoke was magical to him, and he sat and listened to them chat in restaurants for hours at a time. Though he could never speak the language, he became fluent enough to understand most of what was said.
On one such trip when he was fifteen, Salek was tottering slowly down the aisles, enjoying the sounds and scents around him, when he heard the raspy double-voice of a truly ancient-sounding Ithorian trilling from his right.
“Young human with stars in his eyes, come closer,” it whispered. Salek turned his head in the direction of the voice and moved his rangefinder around. The speaker seemed to reside between the cart shops, in one of the narrow alleys that connected major tracks through the bazaar. Salek wasn’t an idiot, of course. He decided not to get mugged in an alley and kept walking down the street. However, the voice followed him, seemingly right next to him despite the growing distance.
“Do not be afraid,” it said. “There are things that you need to hear. Things that you must do.”
Despite his justifiable caution, there was something in the voice that compelled Salek to turn back towards it. There was no demand, but rather a subtle entreaty. He decided he could at least step near the alley to hear what the old man had to say. He waited through a moment of silence, then awkwardly broke it.
“Umm, hi. I’m Salek. You, uh...you wanted to talk to me?”
“Indeed, young Fallanai.” Salek wasn’t sure how he heard his last name; most Ithorians used descriptors in place of proper nouns, since they couldn’t form the correct phonemes. Yet his name sounded clear in his head, which was doubly strange. “These are dark times in the galaxy,” it continued. “The Sith seek to reign once again, to bathe the galaxy in bloodshed and terror. The people will cry out for freedom and justice, but they will go unheard. In times past, the Jedi stood strong, a bulwark against the darkness.”
“Apparently not that strong,” Salek interjected with a bitter chuckle. He saw the holovids the same as everyone else, and he knew that his world was a tiny beacon of peace in a vast sea of chaos, a chaos that could swallow them eventually.
“Indeed not strongly enough,” the Ithorian replied in a tone of mournful humility. “Perhaps in the next cycle they will be better able to withstand the storm. But that may only happen if strong people with good hearts open their eyes to the atrocities of this life and stand against them.”
“Just so we’re clear,” Salek responded, “you’re aware of the irony in what you just said, right?”
“The elderly are rarely as foolish as you think. Now please, kneel down. I will give you a gift; what you do with it is your choice. But if you choose to help, to protect those who cannot protect themselves, go to the temple in Jedha. Wait at the gate until you are questioned, and tell them that Resias sent you.”
Hesitant, Salek lowered himself to one knee, listening carefully for any sounds behind him that might indicate an attack. But nothing came. There was a moment of silence expectation, and then three wrinkled fingers pressed against his forehead. Salek gasped and fell back as sensation flooded through him, unfolding like a flower from the center of that touch and coursing through him in electric waves. He lay on the ground, too stunned to move. Eventually voices began to filter through the ringing in his ears, and he realized that a crowd was standing around him.
Salek drew himself to his feet, brushing off helpful questions and guiding hands. He slipped through a hole in the group and made his way back to his mother.
Later at home, he shared his story and then listened to the thousand and one reasons it was stupid of him to think of traveling halfway across the galaxy alone. He wasn’t sure what lay ahead in the future, but something in his very core told him that he could not pass up the chance to help, to be a force for good in the world, whatever form that took. Salek snuck out of his house and found a transport that would take him to Jedha.
DESCRIPTION
The most obvious and striking feature of Salek is his milky white eyes. In a galaxy of cybernetic replacements, it is rare to see a normal, wealthy-looking young man with such an obvious and extreme handicap. Eyes aside, he looks like a plain human: wavy brown hair, pale skin, perhaps a bit on the handsome side. If one looks closely, he has a couple of small facial scars from childhood accidents.
Physically, Salek is tall for his age and athletic, with fairly good stamina and strength for a human, though it isn’t impressive by galactic standards.. His parents insisted on a training regimen to offset his blindness as much as possible; weight training was the safest thing to do, since it involved more feeling and proprioception than vision. He is obviously a bit clumsy, but that is slowly alleviating himself as he learns to navigate with more confidence. His normally calm demeanor veils a quickness that he is as yet unaware of.
Though he may appear imposing to the average human, Salek is a quiet and thoughtful type, slow to speak and hesitant to react. He thinks deeply before making decisions, perhaps a caution taught to him by his handicap. A lifetime of listening intently has given him a good ear, and he pays close attention to what is said around him. He has also been coached by his father where people’s eyes are based on the location of their voice, and he is careful to focus his eyes where he thinks theirs are. The intensity of that blank stare can be somewhat unnerving.
Physically, Salek is tall for his age and athletic, with fairly good stamina and strength for a human, though it isn’t impressive by galactic standards.. His parents insisted on a training regimen to offset his blindness as much as possible; weight training was the safest thing to do, since it involved more feeling and proprioception than vision. He is obviously a bit clumsy, but that is slowly alleviating himself as he learns to navigate with more confidence. His normally calm demeanor veils a quickness that he is as yet unaware of.
Though he may appear imposing to the average human, Salek is a quiet and thoughtful type, slow to speak and hesitant to react. He thinks deeply before making decisions, perhaps a caution taught to him by his handicap. A lifetime of listening intently has given him a good ear, and he pays close attention to what is said around him. He has also been coached by his father where people’s eyes are based on the location of their voice, and he is careful to focus his eyes where he thinks theirs are. The intensity of that blank stare can be somewhat unnerving.
SKILLS
- Multilingual - Ithorian
- Highly attuned senses, especially hearing; rudimentary echolocation ability
- Force Vision - Salek’s awakening on the Ithorian herdship began the process of developing a unique form of Miralukan Force vision. It is developing slowly into an ability to see the Force in depth and clarity that most people are incapable of. However, living beings are far more visible to this sense than inorganic materials, so he still tends to walk into walls a lot.
NOTABLE WEAKNESSES
- Blind
- Illiterate due to not being able to perceive text
- Cannot fly spaceships