Yaihi'l Beskar
| Member Profile | |
|---|---|
 | |
| Yaihi'l Beskar | |
| Member Information | |
| Full RS Name | Yaihi'l Beskar |
| Call Sign | Fulliron |
| Past Names | None |
| Current Rank | Major |
| Date Joined | Jun 25, 2014 |
| Status | Active |
| Current Squadron | Red |
| Recruited by | Ta-Re Djo |
| Character Information (Fictional) | |
| Homeworld | Telos IV |
| Species | Human |
| Gender | Male |
| Age | 22 |
| Height | 1.85 meters |
| Weight | 82 kilograms |
| Hair color | Black |
| Eye color | Brown with black rims |
| Personal Information (Real Life) | |
| Name | Charlie |
| Gender | Male |
| Location | Berkeley |
| Age | 19 |
| Occupation | Student |
Personal Information
Name: Yaihi'l Beskar (Mando'a for "Full Iron")
Species: Human
Race: Telosian
Gender: Male
Age: 22 galactic standard years
Weight: 82 kg
Height: 1.85 m
Hair: Short black hair. Keeps it short enough to be out of the way while maintaining visibility.
Eyes: Brown eyes rimmed with black
Skin color: White
Weapon of choice: Echani-made vibrosword, with a ostrine edge, ion power cell upgrade, and agrinium hilt
Armor of choice:
-When movement is needed: Flightsuit with beskar cuirass
-When protection is needed: heavy beskar'gam powered armor
Vehicle of choice:
-Starfighter: A-Wing fighter
-Transport: YT-2000 freighter
-Overland: XP-38 landspeeder, modified with heavy armor, light anti-personnel weapons, and more powerful engines
(Auto)Biography
Look, I know what you're thinking. "It's a Telosian with a Mandalorian name, why's he in the Squadrons?" Yeah, I get it. My name's weird. But it's all I got. I never knew my parents. The selfish bastards abandoned me when I was 2 without even a blanket against the wind. And the guys I was kinda adopted by weren't much help either. Oh, they had names for me, but I wouldn't repeat any of them here, and especially not on an application. Anyway, back to how I got my name. I had just turned about 15, we thought. So, we decided to have a party. All of a sudden, this huge guy in powered armor barrels into the pavilion where we were. I, being an idiot street rat, got in his face for interrupting out meager festivities. The guy, who I now realize was dar'manda, grabbed me and hauled me away. When he finally stopped, he slammed me down in a different, unfamiliar alley with a lot of refuse. When the guy made to come at me again, I frantically grabbed for something to defend myself with. Lucky for me, I grabbed a piece of rebar, which, when it hit his helmet, felled my captor. By that point, some True Mandalorians had caught up and saw me take down the man they had been pursuing. Somehow, I had managed to impress the Mandos, and they asked for my name. When I wasn't able to give them one, they decided that my name needed to be symbolic of the day that I earned it. So, I got stuck with what translates to Fulliron in Basic (as a side note, my name really sounds like some kid's holonet handle. What's up with that?). The Mandalorians also offered to let me join them, but I had a feeling that that life wasn't for me. I've never been particularly fond of my movement being restricted (comes from surviving on wits and speed for years), and beskar'gam is too heavy not to be restrictive. But, that doesn't mean I didn't keep the armor. What passes for Mandalorian law says that it falls under spoils of war, and I was the only one with any claim. Most of it's back in my locker, but I always wear the breastplate, to remind me of that day.
Alright, so it's been a few months, and I feel like I didn't tell enough of my story last time. So, you know how I got my armor. But, how, if I was a street urchin, did I build up the technical skills to sit in Skywalker's seat? Well, when you live on the streets, even the fairly easy streets of Telos, there are some things you have to do that you aren't necessarily proud of. One of those things is hotwiring landspeeders to get away from street gangs. Now, if I wasn't so sure that almost everyone in the Squadrons had a somewhat colorful past, I wouldn't be sharing this. Hell, as it is, the only reason I'm really comfortable putting this down is because BGN Djo seems to like me. But, I eventually got to be a pretty high-level slicer. When I was in practice, I could hack a terminal and fake emergencies to drop blast doors, all while funneling credits into my account, all on two spikes. I also could open almost any door that wasn't magnetically sealed, though that took a little more time. Rigging a broken droid to clear a room for me? Please, I could do that when half-asleep. I spent the money on little things: food, candy, a few components here or there. Then bigger things: gold Pazaak cards, nice clothes, plans for a better power cell that I could barely even use. One time, I even bought a hit of glitterstim from a street dealer, just for the hell of it. Thank goodness I avoided addiction. But, the most expensive thing I ever bought with my ill-gotten gains was my first personal datapad. Sure, I'd used them a few times, but every single one I'd used had been stolen, and we eventually triggered the anti-theft failsafes on them. This one, though, was mine.
I had just killed the Mandalorian and had taken possession of the armor. Sure, I didn't really fit it, but the streets of Telos were easy enough that your gang would watch your stuff and not take it, especially if you'd been part of the group for years. I had been looking at buying some armor for a while by that point (even easy streets have their gang wars, and I was approaching the age where I might be looked to in order to help defend the littlest ones). But, since I now had armor of my own, I figured I could buy something else. So, I bought a datapad. Now, sure, a datapad, even the really large one I bought, isn't that expensive. But I also bought the parts to droidify it. It's actually got enough memory to act as an emergency astromech directly from my cockpit, though I'd prefer that not happen.
Note - biography up to here directly taken from rebelsquadrons.org personal page
I've been getting more than a few confused looks when I say I'm not Mandalorian. For a full explanation of why I'm not part of that old warrior society, please read the document at this address.
