Esaat Kopos
ComMandolorian
FACTION: Galactic Alliance Military, 7/2nd Pathfinders
RANK: Specialist
SPECIES: Mandalorian
AGE: 36
SEX: Male
HEIGHT: 5' 7"
WEIGHT: 170 lbs.
BUILD: Bulky and athletic, likely an alumnus of the School of Hard Knocks
EYES: Blue
HAIR: Black, usually kept cut below half of an inch on the top with an equal-length beard.
SKIN: Caucasian
FORCE SENSITIVE: No
STRENGTHS:
+ Mandalorian Culture places a high emphasis on skill in battle and bravery, as well as personal honor and integrity.
+ Down-to-Earth and capable of viewing matters from other perspectives, as well as being fairly level-headed and rational.
+ Makes a mean kebab.
WEAKNESSES:
- Bad Role Model based on views about handling grievances and issues personally rather than working through established institutions (i.e. Adjutant Generals/Law Enforcement).
- Poor Management/Conservation Skills, hence why most often he is found without credits in the docking bay and ammunition on the battlefield.
- Minor Dyslexia
- Does NOT make a mean falafel.
The son of an accountant father and a stay-at-home mother, Esaat's youth was fairly uneventful, though marked with struggles in school due to dyslexia which in turn led to issues of pride, then fighting, suspensions, expulsions, and then crime toward the end of his juvenile years. He left home at the ripe old age of sixteen, first turning to minor crime to subsist before eventually settling out to live the exciting life of a kebab vendor on a small cart he bought at twenty. For thirteen years he plied his trade, forming the best kebabs he could manage with as bright a smile as he could offer for whatever additional tip it would muster.
But smiles like that whither and degrade as the husk of their bearer loses its sense of purpose and importance. Stability breeds stagnation, which in turn brings dissatisfaction and anger. Personal anger, in Esaat's case. Even the most basic and cursory examination of his life would show nothing but a failure: a troublemaker child turned delinquent turned food-cart vendor. There would be no tales of his deeds, no one to remember him by. The lack of purpose nearly drove him insane.
And then he saw it. A tattered page upon the rusted hull of some passing speeder. Its red hue drudged up sanguine emotions from deep within, rekindling the fire of his turbulent youth. Its near-sphere shape akin to the artwork of his people, igniting a pride he had long since resigned from himself. It was the insignia of the Alliance, its Mandalorian design calling to him. The cart sold for half what he had bought it for, but even that was enough to get off the planet at a youthful thirty three.
Every tactile lesson of firearms and tactics was an opportunity to atone for his wasted youth. Every session of physical training a chance to forge the family he had since shunned himself from. Every scenario and training exercise an experience that pushed he and his compatriots toward the "Vode An" goal that glimmered like a shooting star in the back of his mind. Two years later, Pathfinder training was some of the best the Alliance had to offer and he made it his life's mission to take that investment that they had placed in him and ensure it did not go to waste.
PERSONALITY:
There's a degree of level-headedness that forces itself to the forefront of the mind after teetering on the edge of insanity due to personal failings. It shields against pride; adds humility. It's the knowledge that there are darker places to be internally than whatever troubles present issues may bring. When most of a life's prime has been wasted, the fear of letting the rest of the candle burn out without putting it to good use becomes very real, and a very powerful motivator for personal progress.
Likewise, Esaat is that: a man proud of his people, proud of their ways, and proud of his more recent accomplishments, though his past is still nothing but shameful to him. A shame he acknowledges and has learned from as he has come to do with most of his faults, but a breach of his pride no less.
Respectful, courteous, and truthful, he leaves no strong opinion unspoken for better or for worse, a symptom of what can only be described as fear of being thought dishonest.