Character
Jaidan Shatani
| Age | 47 |
| Species | Echani |
| Gender | Male |
| Height | 1.85 meters |
| Weight | 81.75 kg |
| Force Sensitive | Yes |
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION
Largely, Jaidan has embraced the “wandering wizard” image often associated with Jedi who spend the majority of their time at something other than lightsaber dueling. Somewhat unusually for Echani, he not only has facial hair, but a full blown beard which he hasn’t bothered shaving in more than a decade, though he does still make a point of grooming himself as well as he can in the field. All that white hair, the color of which hasn’t changed since he was a child, makes his exact age exceedingly difficult to discern at a glance. Some wrinkles are of course visible, but like most Jedi, he’s aged quite gracefully and remains both healthy and robust in his middle age.
Among Jedi, his wardrobe of choice is somewhat novel. He wears the same hooded robes as most, but in his case has opted for black with a silver border over the usual brown. He honestly just likes the contrast. The dye has faded a little from time in the sun and rain, but the fabric is both durable and water coated, and has held up well. The robe is complemented, most of the time, by a pair of synthleather gloves of the same black pigment. He is also rarely seen without his simple wooden staff which doubles as both a walking stick and his weapon of choice when such things are required.
INVENTORY
-Lightsaber, single phase, green crystal
-Walking stick, roughly his own height, wood smooth and carved with various winding patterns
-Holocom, capable of doubling as a camera
-A collection of Jedi holocrons, usually only one on his person at any given time
-Hand mirror
-Well used wooden comb
-A pair of scissors
PERSONALITY AND BELIEFS
For the most part, Jaidan could be described as calm and dignified, though perhaps some less charitable sorts might prefer words like “aloof” or “aristocratic”. To be fair, he technically is an aristocrat, and never renounced any part of his heritage in becoming a Jedi. Much of his life has been defined by an eagerness to learn, and you learn far more by listening than you ever will by talking. He will speak when it seems appropriate, as much or as little as required, but never simply to fill silence, with which he is entirely comfortable even when those around him are not. Generally polite and even personable enough, he’s kept his own company for vast stretches at a time, and enjoys the quiet.
Still, there are plenty of exceptions. Having long since developed a fascination with the Jee’dai concept of balance between light and dark as opposed to rigid adherence to only one side, he takes a somewhat more relaxed view of “passions” than some Jedi. If he finds something funny, he laughs. He’s generally patient, but if someone tries that patience, he’s not shy about very bluntly saying so. Anger, so long as it does not spill over into senseless wrath, he will also vent freely if he feels it will only grow in confinement. He is, given his and his world’s history, openly scornful of Mandalorians and not especially shy about who knows it.
Needless to say, he finds it best to avoid Jedi meetings if he can help it.
STRENGTHS
- Adept mystic. Jaidan was born with a rare and potent ability, Psychometry, which he has put to great use as his control of it improved, but his natural curiosity didn't let him stop there. Over more than three decades of study into ancient practices, he has amassed a potent and eclectic mix of abilities. Some of these, like the ability to infuse ordinary objects with the Force and thus make innocuous but dangerous weapons of them, were once common but became gradually more obscure over the millennia. Other powers, while not malevolent in and of themselves, are probably more commonly associated with the enemies of the Jedi; he is a very accomplished Illusionist, an invaluable aid in ending a fight without bloodshed or avoiding it entirely. When this fails, he has a potent Force Barrier and a more than decent grasp of the healing arts to fall back on as well.
- Well-rounded. The expertise in the Force mentioned above has necessitated a gradual shift away from the purely martial aspects of Jedi training over the years, enhanced further by the slow but inexorable move past his physical prime. But he has forgotten nothing of the warrior focus that dominated the first half of his life. There are younger and more focused duelists in the Jedi Order against whom he might ultimately be outmatched, but he remains a far more dangerous combatant than he looks, and it would be a deadly mistake to under-estimate him in that regard.
- Self-awareness. This, he believes, is his best defense against the mistakes that have led so many Jedi to ruin over the years; the ability to calm down, take a mental step back, and have a good look at himself. He’s not so strong-willed as to be incorruptible, but he does know what he wants in this life and what cost he would judge acceptable. He’s not invincible, but he knows his strengths and when those are and are not likely to be enough. He certainly will acknowledge when his weaknesses should suggest taking a step back and leaving a situation to others.
- Walking lie detector. Echani are famous for an almost psychic ability to anticipate an opponent's next move, but this skill is applicable to far more than simply fighting. He was trained from an early age to instinctively note the smallest physical gestures and micro-expressions, be it a subtle change in posture or a slight tension which may indicate an intent to do him harm...or an active attempt to deceive. This awareness makes it exceedingly hard to put anything by him, be it a sucker punch of a fib. His extensive training and skill in the mental aspects of the Jedi disciplines have only amplified this talent to a truly surreal degree. He used to enjoy sabaac, but stopped playing when he realized he was almost cheating by default.
WEAKNESSES
- Discomfort with technology. This isn’t to say he’s COMPLETELY ignorant with it. He did build his own lightsaber, as well as a number of Jedi holocrons, both of which require machinery as well as the Force. But beyond those specific instances, for which he specifically studied at length, he has little aptitude and less interest. He’s grown accustomed to old stone, largely reclaimed by nature, all of it suffused with the rich ebb and flow of LIFE, but dead metal and circuitry. He hates space travel, certainly shouldn’t be tasked with flying anything, and can turn a computer on but has no idea how to “slice” anything. This does also translate to a certain difficulty with droids. He’s versed in a number of Force techniques very effective on the living, but his go to solution to a hostile machine is to smash it back into its constituent parts.
- Over-sensitivity to his surroundings. His natural talent of Psychometry can at times be as much a hindrance as it a boon. The simple practice of wearing gloves ensures he can avoid the risks associated with actually touching something dangerous, but sometimes, just entering into a space can still trigger a vision even without any effort of his own. He’s trained his mind well over the years to guard against this occurrence, but if an area resonates very strongly in the Force, it can still occasionally catch him off guard. If that echo is one of great distress violence, or particularly strong Dark Side energies, he must be especially on his guard or risk being momentarily debilitated or worse.
- Lack of social graces. He knows when he must be on his best behavior, and he's not so lacking in self control as to forget it. But this is, generally speaking, an active effort more often than not. When he chooses to speak, he prefers to say exactly what he means, and he has a tendency to be blunt. This serves him just fine when he's off on his own, communing with the echoes of the long dead, but it doesn't always endear him to his fellows on occasions where making personal connections would be best.
HISTORY
From great foundations, it is generally expected that great things will be built. Thus, from the beginning, many curious eyes were laid upon Jaidan of Clan Shatani. Shatani was, after all, an old name, and a proud one. Through the darker times and the glory days of old that approached the status of myth, they had endured much as the Echani themselves had endured. Their pride did not, of course, lie simply in that they had managed to exist; over the centuries, their family had contributed its generous share of noted artisans, shipwrights, politicians and more. The name Shatani had indeed popped up more than once on the muster of the old Command Council.
It of course went without saying among the Echani that their family’s warriors were not few, but to be celebrated as such was something else entirely. And from almost the beginning, even by those exacting standards, it seemed Jaidan Shatani was something special indeed. Even before his tiny body had grown and matured to the point of ability to actually perform them properly, he seemed to have an instinctive understanding of the Echani combat forms that could not be explained. From the first time he grasped one of the venerable old training weapons stored just off of the estate’s ancient central courtyard, he almost invariably seemed to know how to handle it as though he’d done so before.
But there was another, more distressing side to this amazing talent. It began as an infant. Every time one of his parents carried him into that central courtyard, shaded by the leaves and branches of the great tree which had been there since before the estate and maybe even the clan itself, where generation upon generation had trained in the ways of their people, Jaidan would suddenly begin weeping uncontrollably as though he’d been dropped. This would cease in time, but even as he grew older, the act of grasping a new weapon would often trigger a vacant stupor from which he could not be roused until it just as mysteriously ended a minute or so later. Most alarming of all was what they discovered on those occasions when they would take him to visit the sites of famous battles, where real blood had been shed. More than once, that would lead to a terrifying, full blown seizure.
Had Jaidan been born 1,000 years earlier, it is likely this mystery would have been very quickly solved. As a Republic citizen, a midichlorian test would have been standard, and the results may in time have drawn the attention of the Jedi Order. But in this age of constant upheaval, the existence of ANY kind of central authority even just in the galactic core was transitory, and it wasn’t always clear if the Jedi Order even still existed in anything resembling its ancient form. And even back in the glory days of the Old Republic, it would have taken some time and observation to recognize so rare an inborn talent as Psychometry.
Such as circumstances were, however, the clues continued to build. Even without knowing exactly what he was doing, confusing the Force for some general warrior’s spirit that flowed through him, he got the attention of others. As it never occurred to him to try, he never moved anything with his mind, but he was stronger when he really committed, faster, prescient to challenges in ways that even the Echani arts couldn’t fully account for. At great effort, contact was made with the Jedi, and at the ripe old age of 14, he agreed to go off and be trained. The potential within him was simply too great to ignore, for the good of Eshan if not for himself. Stories of the Jedi Watchmen of old still persisted on Eshan, and in time, his family’s political connections married with the Force could make him an able defender indeed.
Inevitably, his new life was more than he could possibly have expected. Given his natural aptitude and upbringing, the physical aspects of his training came easily enough to him. A lightsaber was unlike any weapon he’d handled before, granted, and they made sure to start him off with a brand new training saber, devoid of history to ensure he couldn’t “cheat” his way past the lessons in humility and perseverance. But he still had a strong foundation in swordsmanship to work from, and it was only a few short years before he could consistently give his teachers a good and pretty even match. But there was so, so much more to being a Jedi than just cool acrobatic flips and swinging a laser sword around…
He’d been trained to form an intimate connection and understanding through the ritual of combat with a single person, but as it happened, he was connected to so much more. To everything. That was an irresistibly compelling mystery to explore, even as he knew he’d never, ever fully understand the cosmic enormity of it. He was one man, with an entire universe around him, and he lacked the capacity of most sentient beings to simply ignore the enormity of it. But he was grateful for that “deficiency”, because the mental discipline required to gaze into the infinite without breaking finally allowed him a proper control over his innate talent, which he would shape into the wondrous gift it was meant to be. Far more than simply enabling speedier proficiency with a weapon, it led him to what would in time become his life’s true passion.
Even as a boy, he’d been a rapt student of history. He craved a story, the older the better. If details were sketchy and records were sparse, that was always intensely frustrating, but it only fueled a desire to fill in those missing pieces. To truly know the story. And now, years later, multiple truths dawned on him. The story of this galaxy had been long indeed. The Jedi were heirs to a history that stretched back more than 1,000 generations, and for him, that history was literally alive. Even if nobody living now remembered, the Force did. And it spoke to him. The things he could learn…
But there were bumps on that road, and they would be jarring. Amazing as steps into this larger world had been, he’d never forgotten the duty which had led him to the Jedi in the first place. And after a decade of intense study, he would be called to fulfill it. Word reached him that war was coming to Eshan, and it was carried by their loathed and ancient rival. Mandalorians were on the rampage once more, and Jaidan would return as a Jedi Knight to face the invaders just as he’d promised all those years ago.
That proved a bitter lesson for him. He would take part in a victory of sorts, but it could hardly be called a triumph. The faceless barbarians received a fresh lesson upon sullying Eshan’s soil. Neither their big guns, nor their arrogant war cries, nor even their indestructible metal shells could overcome Echani skill and pride in their own home. Had the invasion lasted a century or more, he knew his people would never capitulate, but he had no intention of enduring the affront of their presence for that long. He threw himself into the fighting with a gusto frankly unbecoming of a Jedi, but worthy of an Echani, and by the time the enemy abandoned their conquest, his lightsaber had taken its share of Mandalore’s finest.
The Mandalorians were repulsed. But as the Cathar had learned millennia past, the metal clad crusaders had no history of fighting with honor, and they certainly proved no more magnanimous in defeat than they had in victory. Eshan would remain Eshan, but orbital bombardment would leave its planetary capital a blasted out ruin and the devastated planet with the decades long task of recovery. And thus, Jaidan saw what all his Jedi training should have taught him already. One man, even if that man was a Jedi, could only do so much. Returning to his ancestral home in Kirshak Province, thankfully still intact and pristine as it ever had been, he would meditate for some time on this experience and his proper role in things.
He would return in time to the galaxy, and his life as a Jedi, but his path would not be as it was. He would ever be at the service of his people should they call or should the Force send warning, ready to surrender his life if need be, but a lightsaber could not hold a hostile galaxy at bay. And so he opened his mind to just what he felt truly called by. And his mind returned to his lifelong fascination with the distant and vanished past.
This was all decades ago now, and in that time, he has gradually stepped away from his dedicated role as the resolute warrior. Never entirely; that will always be a part of him, and he’s never allowed his skills to deteriorate too much. But he has, by degrees, de-emphasized their use in favor of further meditations (Very fruitful meditations, in fact.) on the Force, and his new role as a sort of historian for the Order. A wandering sage for the most part, rarely taking any active part in the daily business of the Jedi save by the occasional request, the the Tython System is his most frequent home. Any ancient ruin he can find, he explores exhaustively, often alone but happily enough at the head of any like-minded expeditions he may gather.
To date, his greatest and proudest contribution would have to be a growing collection of holocrons dedicated to his primary specialty: Pre-Republic history and the galaxy as their distant Je’daii predecessors knew it. From the brutal reign of the Infinite Empire to the mystery of the Tho Yor, he likely knows as much as anyone else alive. And while that knowledge may never be anywhere near complete, he’ll spend as long as he has left returning what he can of the galaxy’s legacy to the coming generations.
Last edited: