Darth Keres

NAME: Syrin Elar
NICKNAME/ALIAS: Darth Keres, The Voice of the Emperor, The Will of the Emperor, Imperial Regent
SPECIES: Kiffar/Human Hybrid
GENDER: Female    
SEXUALITY: Bisexual
AGE: 31
HEIGHT: 5'7" / 1.7 Meters
WEIGHT: 132 lbs / 59 Kilograms








With the scent of mystery in the air, few would guess that Keres hides malice beneath her calm demeanor. Her body is slender yet curvaceous and her features are presented with a sort of angular beauty as from her head locks of black hair rain down her shoulders. Her eyes of an usual green hue, have been transformed into pits of crimson fury whenever she channels the powers of the dark side through her body. As a former assassin, she can hide this corruption making her eyes return to their natural color. The pale of her skin presents scarring, mostly mitigated after several cosmetic treatments, a reminder of short time as a slave and the torturous training under her master. Crimson facial tattoos are displayed on her face as if they were gashes created by the talons of a predator that run down her cheeks, whilst three slashes are etched unto her forehead that once denoted the Kiffar clan her mother hailed from. 

Instead of the lavish dresses and extravagant attires used for other members of the Dark Order, Keres is much more spartan and functional attire, using simple cloaks of black and grey when she's resides in Sith controlled space. During missions she opts for either a spacer-like attire, including a jumpsuit or a formfitting armor-weaved body suit and cloak devoid from any type of ornamentation. Carrying with the suit comes a slicing equipment, three throwing vibro-blades, a comlink and a first aid kit.





Silent and distant are the first words that come into mind when you consider Keres. The hellish nature of her upbringing causing an irrevocable damage that has reduced most of her emotions to a mostly void and atrophied state. Indeed it is only the aspects that concern her anger and hate untouched and strengthened through the sheer brutality of the training that was enacted upon her master. And whilst she can indulge in curiosity or even lust, she cannot truly form lasting relationships thanks to her life experiences. 

Interestingly whilst she outwardly shows no desire to indulge in the petty squabbles and fights that plague this incarnation of the Sith Order under Emperor Revan, her interest was piqued after the vacuum of power following the events of the Star Forge and the return of Revan as sovereign of the Sith. With this her interest in the machinations and political maneuvering growing exponentially after she was made Darth Keres and elevated to the position of Voice of the Emperor by the Dark Lord himself. Outmaneuvering adversaries that sought to discredit her by pitting them against lords of equal standing, creating stalemates that minimize the damage done to the Empire itself. 

During a mission she shows no empathy, no mercy and no regret, killing those who stand on her way without much consideration. That been said, Keres does not kill out of blood lust, performing the deed only when necessary to cover her tracks or during an assassination. She shows a pragmatist point of view and believes that the weak are to be subservient to the strong to point that slavery, something which she herself experienced, is considered a natural state by her.
She believes that the Sith Order and their Empire are but a representation to the philosophy of strength and the cycle that has been shown throughout nature in the countless eons of the existence of life across the universe.

As a Sith, Keres commands through a combination of charisma, intimidation, persuation and subterfuge even in spite of her faults in her cold persona, through much experience she has gained an understanding on the beings that live in the galaxy, and with that lore she knows well how  to persuade them to do her bidding for the best of results. It is said that her sole presence acts a deterrent from cowardice and ineptitude among the normal soldiery of the Empire and even lesser Sith.






BIRTHPLACE: Dantooine
FACTION: Sith Order
RANK: Darth, Voice of the Emperor, Imperial Regent
CLASSIFICATION: Sith Assassin
POWER LEVEL: Master
CONNECTIONS: 

Father • Dasc Elar, 39, Mercenary (Deceased)
Mother • Mai Elar, 32, Farmer (Deceased)
Siblings • Asra Elar, 28, Jedi Knight

Other Important Connections •


Miraak Durr, 46, Dark Jedi Master (Deceased)
Darth Tempestus, 75, Sith Master (Deceased)


Syrin Elar was born thirty-one standard years ago on Dantooine to a former Republic Solder turned mercenary, Dasc Elar and his wife a former technician with the Republic Army, Mai Elar, becoming the first of two girls. The early years of her life were not easy. The life within the remote homestead and the few farmlands the family owed ensured this as barely operational droids, meager crops and the few credits to spare would force the young girl to help as much as her feeble body would allow her.

Her father would be an absentee for the most part of her early years as he spent much of his time off planet, hired and deployed in many fringe worlds in which individuals needed a muscle for security or simple to scare someone to cooperate for their schemes. It could not be said that the marriage between her parents was the best, in fact it was quite possibly as strained and difficult as it could be. Yet for some reason she remained with the man.

Unbeknownst to both parents their both Syrin and her sister, Asra were force sensitives, within her blood the potential to use the force if trained. However their potential didn't transmit in any obvious way that would make their parents suspicious, tacitly the force made both bond closer, having each other to rely unto during the rare stays of their father and his usual drunken bouts with their mother as arguments over money and the difficulty of life the family of the man faced in his absence filled their ears as they hid in their tiny shared quarters.

It was at that at the tender of seven that her life would change. During another of their arguments, her father in a fit of alcohol fueled anger pulled out his side arm and blasted his wife ten times, unsuspecting that his eldest daughter observed in horror what had happened. Turning he saw the small girl as she slowly stepped back, only to knock her out with a swing to her face. The girl lost consciousness as her father would try to gather and think what to do.

With little thought he took the girls and all valuables and left in his speeder after setting the homestead ablaze to cover his tracks. Reuniting with his band of mercenaries he ordered them to board their ship and set course for the outer rim. It was hours before Syrin would wake up in the cargo hold of freighter, dazed and confused as the pain rang from her temples to jaw, noting that two of her teeth were missing.

Some of the mercenary companions of her father would come to look at her, feed them during the journey, yet the very man that had sired them would not dare to face them. Hours would turn to eternity as both girls found some solace within the other's embrace with the soft rumble of the hyper drive and sublight engines as a company.

The girls went back to sleep, only to be reawaken time later as the ship had landed on a fringe world in the outer rim. Dasc took them outside the ship, leading them through the maze that the bazaar was in which she wold see hundreds of alien species she had never seen in her life. It was then their father struck a deal with a Zygerrian slaver. Not understanding the grasp of the situation she was checked by a medical droid and soon enough approved which would lead to her be pass from someone with freedom to a slave.

Seeing as how her new master would shove her and handle hair roughly while securing a shock collar around her neck and that of her sister, Syrin would use all her strength to escape the claws of the slavers as she cried and yelled for her father to come for her, tears pouring and rolling down her cheeks. Her resistance was only subdued when the shock collar was activated, the unbearable pain coursing as ever cell cried in pain.

The months that came were hell for her, yet those months made something inside of her snap. At first her handlers would seem to be wary of the young girl as somehow she somehow had managed to break fingers and fight her captors, even if as the end result she would be find being the receiving ends of their fists and kicks. Her owner would call for her, ordering her to behave of her sister would be punished as well. With that her fighting spirit quelled but never died down, as time went her hatred would continue to grow. Hatred towards her owner and against the murderer that was his father.


By fate or luck, a team of Jedi would to undo the Zygerrian slaving group. She and her sister would only hear the firefight and the distant hums of the lightsabers. A light of hope would seem to gleam through the darkness that had being her life during those years, for the mythical defenders of the weak and hapless would come to save both sisters. However what would seem her salvation would end up being another bitter moment in her life.

As the Jedi would take a look at them, they noticed the latent potential that was within the two girls. Learning that they had nothing to return to, it would seem that the life of the Jedi was laid for them. However one of the elder Jedi would take a look unto Syrin, noting the ferocity and hatred which she was seeded deep within her, she was not taken to the Jedi temple to become a Jedi like her sister on the grounds that she was too old for that.

Instead she was left to live at an orphanage on the mid-rim world of Druckenwell, which was a small upgrade from her past as a slave. The rumor of her past somehow had managed to spread among her fellow orphans. Something which they used to pick on her constantly. Fights would ensue and so would punishments from the caretakers. Months would go by and while some children would be adopted Syrin would be overlooked.

It wasn't surprising that she would decide to escape, figuring that perhaps on the streets she would fare better than in the environment of the orphanage. In the streets she was unhinged, not contained by overseers or caretakers and free to do what she wanted, moving around the hidden passages within the massive cities. The world was her playground and while she sensed fear, there was something that guided her. Something which she wouldn't quite understand.

The girl would steal to live, never staying too long and when caught somehow using others as scapegoats to save her own skin. With time, Druckenwell would begin to feel small and thus she wished for a new challenge. Daringly she would stow away in one of the hundreds of thousands of freighters that would come and go from the industrialized world.

The rush of excitement would be with her as she would leave the planet, with Nar Shaddaa as destination. Upon sneaking off the ship, she would be overwhelmed by the world. The state of decay and the desperation of the people she saw living in the shanty towns made out of containers. But the world offered a new playground for her as the sprawling city-wide moon had numerous ways to make her life.

By the time she had turned eleven, the girl would follow the same plan she had followed since landing in Nar Shaddaa, stealing and leaving, never staying in a single place for too long. However she would one day be led by a whisper of a voice she recognized but could not remember to whom it belonged. Something prompted her to follow the whisper, with each step the whisper grew stronger as it called her name. It was then than she would see from the distance the same person that had condemned her of two years of pain and humiliation and life as a robber. Her father.

Her mind throbbed with revenge and anger. Without thinking she would sneak into a bar as something would seem to guide her. By chance she would quietly take a frag grenade from a mercenary as she passed by. Her steps would continue to be resolute as she made her way through the sea of people and stepped in front of the table in which her father sat.

The man would turn his eyes towards the girl wearing only tatters with messy black hair. But it was when his eyes met the man would recognize Syrin. His eyes shifted from the violet pools of hatred that burned on the features of her daughter, to the circular object she held in her hand. A grenade. It was then that Dasc realized her intent. His hands moved swiftly to pull his blaster out of his holster.

He pulled the trigger while at the same time pushing the table, using it as a makeshift barrier, but somehow the young girl would show incredible reflexes, while with an impossible toss the grenade would fly over the table, collide against the padded seat and roll down to where her father was. An explosion ensued, splintering the table and wounding many of the customers of the locale.

Yet the man was not dead, somehow he had managed to survive, jumping from the splinters, the heavy man tackled the girl, surrounding her tiny neck with his massive hands as blood oozed from his wounds. In a desperate struggle the girl would drive her fingers and nails against her father's eyes, blinding him in the process, which would only make the man anger even further.

As her live force begin to leave her, something kept her clinging to life. Instinctively she raised her hand and stroke the man with her palm on her hand, resulting in a wave sending Dasc against a wall, stunning him. Coughing and getting air back into her lungs she would weakly raise from the floor and stared at the man, focusing her anger on him. And something strange happened as the man would come to raise, yet a hand went to his neck as if something choked him while the other served as a way to gather his bearings.

Something overtook Syrin, her hand raising as if it hand it's own will and slowly forming a small fist, making the man lose is balance and squirm on the ground as a worm, both powerful hands seizing the thick of his neck. Something empowered her, not the enjoyment she felt about seeing the man suffer but the suffering that he was feeling, in a way enhancing all what she felt. Her fist tightened even more and before she knew it between the deafening rush of excitement and her rage, with a wheeze the man fell and everything went dark.

What passed as law enforcement in Nar Shaddaa arrived, watching the scene with the many wounded, a little girl and a bloodied man who seemed to have suffocated. The holocams would show that Syrin had something to do with the death of her father and once she would awaken she would be questioned. Unfortunately for the corrupted police forces of Nar Shaddaa this wouldn't happen as before she was even questioned the girl would banish without a trace.



Syrin would awaken, her eyes slowly adjusting to the influx of light forcing her to squint as a voice spoke to her. But unlike before, the voice did not came from within. After gathering enough information of her surroundings a male Zabrak would come from the shadows. Presenting himself as former Jedi Master Miraak Durr, he would ask about her. Who she was and who here parents were. Wary she responded, giving half answers and half lies.

In turn she asked him if he had rescued him and what did he want with her. The man would answer, telling her that in effect he had being her savior and that what she wanted was to asses her power. Not understanding he delve deeper into an explanation, telling her that she was force sensitive and she had just begun to scratch the depths of her potential and that through him, she could have all she wished. The offer was tempting, she had spent far too long living like vermin and if she could understand the powers she had, she could bring justice.

However these ideals would die quickly under the teachings of Dark Jedi Miraak Durr. Instead of the father figure and father she had always hoped, the man was as bad or even worse than her father. Each lesson was a test to her resolve, brutal and uncompromising, with good results barely noticed and each failure met with painful punishment, whose marks she still bears on her pale skin.

In truth Miraak Durr never sought to teach her out the goodness of his heart. As while he had grown to be a respected Jedi Master he had fallen to the Darkside and had begun to indulge in everything that the old order had prohibited. Credits, women, spice. He wanted it all and through deft manipulation he had begun to make a name for himself. The girl whose power he had felt echo even through the overwhelming rush of input through the Force had brought to him an opportunity he had not considered as he began his foray into the underworld. An assassin that could dispatch any rivals that had either wronged him or simply were in the way for a larger scheme

Each lesson deviated from the original Jedi methodology in which Durr was raised. Brutality increased with lessons both with the Force and with the forms of the lightsaber. Tortures broke her as he forced pain unto the girl and slowly extracted information from her memories, while she deprived her of all commodities, keeping her on a cage, chained as an animal. Slowly molding her into someone whose emotions were left atrophied and who could be easily controlled as she grew dependent of her master. Her training would be rounded up with additional training with vibrodaggers, computer slicing and piloting, skills which suited her well.

It was at the age of fifteen in which she would take her first serious assignment after a long list of petty assassinations, she would infiltrate the compound of a Gran Crimeboss Aak Leem. Using her looks, passing as one of the dancing girls. As a party would commence the young woman would slowly approach the Aak Leem, and with a swift wave of her hand, she would slice his throat with a vibroblade.

Surrounded by the gang of the now deceased Crimeboss she recognized that all avenues of escape in her original plan were cut off. Without much choice she would allow the darkside to flow through her body in order to fight her way out of the compound. Telekinetically, she lifted the body of Aak Leem with some effort, using it as a shield against blaster bolts and vibroblades her assailants would brandish against her.

With a shove, she would toss the Gran's corpse against his minions, using her agility and and her skills with the vibroblade Syrin began to cut her way out until she reached the compound's hangar. She jumped into a speeder and left the area, only to ditch it lest she risked being followed, using the routes and shortcuts she had discovered years ago to reach her master's lair

Drunk in victory and his other vices the male Zabrak would celebrate this victory. However he was not satisfied with the woman that had warmed his bed so far, taking a moment to notice the maturity that the girl he had begun to teach had acquired thus he forced his way with Syrin, who placed little resistance.

Life would continue as it was, with Durr placing in line those who had followed Aak Leem, and sending her apprentice to eliminate those which would dare to oppose him. From time to time, Murr would allow himself to lust over Syrin as she matured into a woman. However things would change soon enough.

Whispers of the Sith were heard and a new order was to be born. As such bored and tired of his life as a crimeboss, Miraak Murr traveled with Syrin to Korriban, and there both pledged themselves to the Sith. Taking the role of a Sith Master due his mastery of the force. Due her own abilities with the Force the young woman only stated as an acolyte for a short time, becoming a Sith Knight at a young age.

The two would go on missions, serving the Empire and it's Order. And with them their standing within the Empire was secured. It was something for which both celebrated out of the behest of the woman, which surprised her master. It was a night in which both indulged and drank.

However it would be the last mistake her Master made. As while both laid over the bed that night, she would raise upon the sleeping form of the Zabrak and stab him several times, prompting his eyes to open in horror. While hardy as anyone of his species he knew the dire predicament in which he was and as he tried to command the Darkside for his aid, it would all be in vain. Arcs of lightning would fly from her finger tips, slowly killing him as strength would ebb from him.

In his final moments, Keres revealed that he hated him and had allowed the Zabrak to lust after her and be pleased and content upon her body because she needed to learn from him but that he had reached the end of his usefulness. While she thanked him for the training and the strength she had gained, to her, he was simply a stepping stone and with that she ended him. Keres disposed of the body, having no used for his corpse. It was after this in which she would begin to operate as what she was trained, an assassin, in service of the Sith Empire.


War would come again to the galaxy, the furious onslaught of the Sith was unleashed yet again throughout the galaxy and Keres would fight. However her fight was not that on the battlefields, but that of the cities, streets and alleys, her skills as an assassin becoming of use to those within the higher echelons og the Sith.

Being sent to worlds behind the enemy lines, the Sith Assassin would strike using various methods, ranging from seduction to infiltration and ambush, her targets continued to grow in importance as did her skills with infiltration and torture of the mind, her abilities slowly garnering a recognition within the higher echelons of the Sith Order. With each kill the importance of the target grew, with some battle won after the chain command of the Republic Forces and their Jedi allies destabilized

Thanks to this, her abilities were recognized and as such garnered the attention of one of the most prominent Dark Lords of the Sith, Darth Tempestus. Seeing her abilities and understanding the untapped potential within her, the Dark Lord would take the young woman unto his fold, sending her at first to missions to kill contacts that had lived up their usefulness and needed to be terminated.

It was also during this time in which Keres began study under Tempestus. A brutal taskmaster, it was through the myriad of manuscripts and artifacts that she slowly began to leave the path of the assassin, focusing more on the raw power of the Dark Side with each new lesson, her hunger and lust for power grew. Soon she would prove herself leading expeditions to recover more artifacts through the midst of war.





EQUIPMENT:
2x Curved-Hilt Lightsaber, Red Blade
1x Assassin Lined with Armor-Weave
1x Comlink and Slicing Unit
1x First Aid Kit
5x Throwing Vibro-dagger

SHIPS/VEHICLES:
Mournsong (Centurion-class Battlecruiser)
Suzerain (Personal Yacht)
Personal Shuttle (Herald-class Shuttle)


OTHER:
Personal States on Korriban, Thule and Ord Radama. 
Apartment on Nar Shaddaa