Name: Sel Saan
Race: Kel Dor
Height: 6'1
Weight: 145 lbs
Eyes: silver
Skin: reddish
Birthplace: Dorin
Homeworld: Bunduki
Age: 24 (as off 1 BBY)

Description summary: The Kel Dor before you is tall and slender, and he is always attentive, as if monitoring the world around him. He speaks with a soft but pointed voice, and his body language is formal and proper but at the same time unassuming. His face could only be described as ugly, even by other Kel Dor. He often speaks in unusual metaphors or turns of phrase, that stop short of being riddles.

Personality summary: calm, humble, and polite, Sel is continuously friendly, curious, and inquisitive. He seems most at home around humans, and oddly seems somewhat aloof towards other Kel Dor. He approaches the world in black and white moral terms, and will advocate extremely harsh punishments for those that violate his sense of morality, which is eccentric at best and bizarre at worst. Nevertheless he can be staunch, crafty, and ruthless in defending those that remain on good terms with him. He has a particular loyalty to the emperor, and his normally incisive reasoning inexplicably fails to accept anything that would paint the emperor in a negative light.

Biographical summary: Both of Sel's parents were executed after the fallout of a political schism among the Baran Do sages at around the time of the Great Jedi Purge. Sel was also exiled, eventually catching a passenger ship to the planet Bunduki. Because he was never told what had happened or why his parents were executed, he harbors a deep-seated resentment for his kind, and the Baran Do sages in particular. In his adolescence, he was raised by a group of ancient, hermits on Bunduki (the followers of Palawa), who taught him the ancient art of Teras Kasi. At the age of 19 he left, and shortly therafter took an apprentice in the art, Kharic. At 3 BBY he was discovered by recruiters from the imperial navy, who noted his incredible dexterity, alertness, and reflexes. He was immediately commissioned in the imperial navy, and this is where his story in Rise of the Rebellion begins...

My abilities have today faced their first test in the purpose for which they were granted me. I faced a jedi in battle. He attempted to flee me, and I yet struck him down. The way of Palawa has served its purpose this day. The future at last stands unified, and clear: it stands manifest that I am stronger, and I will by the emperor's will find and eliminate more of the hated Jedi in due time. Further conflict is inevitable, and I know in my heart that my training shall guide me to know war and the destruction of more Jedi.

The rebellion falters, for now at least. Or perhaps they seek to conserve strength for future action. What is certain is that they offer less and less adversity against which to hone myself. Rare is it that I find bases to spearhead destruction against. They stand far less open and defiant against the Emperor's will.

I ventured to Korriban as the commando had directed, to learn of the Sith. Little of note remained, though I was attacked by a pack of immense darkened hounds. After I unmade their flesh, I found fractured remnants of holocrons within. They spoke of conflict. Above all that only through strife and war could civilization grow and evolve. Likewise, the destruction of the weak by the strong strengthens civilization; and to stand against such is to stand against the way of nature manifest in all living beings. There was also mention of the force; and the implication that it provided a true source of strength over other beings.

Yet it is known that the Sith religion was destroyed through Kaan's acts at the Battle of Russan. All the remains of the Sith then is these decrepit and forgotten tombs. To send me here is a strange lesson indeed; am I willed to take from it that the pursuit of a survivalist philosophy - one not entirely unlike my own - leads to failure? Surely none encountering me imagine me to be so readily swayed from my convictions. To devote one's life to a martial art and martial philosophy is to embrace violence. To know war is to know adversity.

Perhaps the lesson to be gleaned is that the Sith's use of the Force caused their ruin and downfall. Yet this too is a strange lesson; for it merely states the obvious. One needs look no further than the Jedi to ascertain the truth of such. For to rely upon the universe around oneself is to come to know it as a crutch for internal weakness. The Jedi know power from the Force, and in so doing their latent talents - strength of arms, intelligence, and guile - become atrophied from lack of adversity. To draw upon such power is to cripple oneself.

I think again to her words. "I prefer the way of the Sith", she spoke. Surely she could not be attempting to resurrect a long-deceased religion. More surely still she would not speak of such. The emperor's hatred of force users is common knowledge. Perhaps this is a test, yet I cannot fathom to what purpose. I watch. I wait. I listen.

In the beginning, there was but chaos. The Kel Dor were brought grief and near-ruin by endless storms and turbulence, and in desperation turned to strife and hatred against one another. Discord, pain, and near-extinction took hold. When all seemed lost, the wind spirits revealed themselves to a chosen few among the Kel Dor. These few became enlightened, and knew the way of order and peace. They guided the Kel Dor from destruction and brought prosperity and truth, averting war and disaster. Disunity and division was struck down harshly with justice and collective strength. In time, these sages faded from prominence, but they worked still to bring order and stability to the Kel Dor, and always the Kel Dor remembered the times of chaos, and struck down opposition to the new order and peace without mercy, allowing the species to prosper to great heights, and carry forth the will of the wind spirits.

Or so goes the story. All races have creation myths, each as exaggerated and false as the last. Many have in due time dismissed theirs as fable, this includes the Kel Dor. Yet still one may see the imprint of the lessons taught by these fables. The moral structure of many Kel Dor continues to carry within it these principles, despite their knowledge that such is based on false premises. They yet cling to failing traditions, in staunch refusal to grow. They act as they should know to be wrong, out of fear of potential discord from change.