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Note: Here is the back story up to near present day. Its a bit long and it's the extended biography.

The story of Calgor Grim is a long one full of toil and graft.

It all begins on the planet of Devaron with a young Devaronian orphan. Throughout his childhood Grim hated the notion of walking and always had aspirations of the stars and being in space. He would spend many a night down the starport observing the freighters moving to and fro, longing to be upon them. The ground was always so boring and plain, so restrictive but space...space was limitless. He spent more time in a workshop reading books about the universe and tinkering with spare parts than anywhere else and so it was his dream when, at the age of 18, he found a perfect opportunity.

"Freight Pilot Wanted - Apply within".
It was a small local courier service, Starlane Enterprise. Nothing big but it was a start, and it was one Grim was eager to get. Despite lack of prior experience he was instantly able to impress his new boss, a wizened old human, showing off what the years of study had provided him in the R-41. The R-41 became his own, and nicknamed it Rusty partly due to the colour and partly since it was in need of attention. Ship quality aside though, it was perfect. Every few days Grim would be loading the vessel and heading off to another point either on the planet or even, if he was lucky, out into space and to one of the other worlds in the system. It was a good life and the pay wasn't too bad. More than enough for him to eventually afford to rent a place of his own.

Everything was going well. His detailed knowledge of the system meant he was able to plan a route perfectly, always knowing the quickest route to a planet, how to make use of the weather conditions, the gravity or the atmosphere to shave a few minutes off those deliveries. Starlane Enterprise was able to afford another ship to add to its fleet, something with a bit more power to it. They could afford to go elsewhere, deliver a little further afield in the sector. Things continued for another two years, but it was not to last. Larger businesses started to take over, bigger vessels, more powerful engines, larger cargo bays. Starline couldn't compete with that and finally fell into decline, the cutbacks, the redundancies and the sale of assets. 5 years after taking that first ship, there was nothing left. Calgor had to leave as well, forced to take whatever jobs he could to make ends meet, trying to get in with one of the larger businesses.

One such attempt saw him almost lose his very life. While piloting a Class VI Bulk corporate freighter to a distant world, he came under attack by pirates. His skills at piloting were good but the ship was not so good and he was being outmanoeuvred and out gunned. The ship was pummelled into submission, forcing him to drop the entire cargo for the pirates to feast upon like parasites. They did so, but not before a parting shot smashed into the main engines, blowing out two turbines and forcing the ship into a drift towards a nearby planet. Gravity was now in control, pulling the ship down towards the planet with the flaming hull of his ship hurtled uncontrollably into the upper atmosphere, pieces of it flying off and burning up. This wasn't his ending though, he didn't know why, by all accounts his number should have been up that day and something was keeping him going, something was stopping him from losing hope and consciousness as smoke was pouring into the cockpit. There was one option available, it was a long shot but it was perhaps the only thing stopping this bulk from smashing into the ground or into a large populated area. The freighter had an old turbolaser battery on the front which was still functional, a quick press of some buttons and it was operational. The gun was being overcharged, he didn't want to fire it, he wanted to blow it up. With any luck the explosive force generated from the overloaded turbolaser might give him that little nudge. Grasping onto the control lever and attempting to stabilise the ship, he watched the energy levels on the gun pass its critical limitations and the ground getting increasingly closer. A sudden explosive jolt and the cannon gave in. It took out a chunk of the ship but the blast knocked him off course and straight towards a large wooded landscape and lake. The ship crashed into it, driving a deep trench but at least it was a better landing than what fate had originally planned.

The wounds were still extreme and should have been fatal, and yet despite this, Grim was able to find himself awake and in a ship a few days later, a man approached him as he stirred into life, body aching and covered in injuries. The man looked roughly 5'7", human of some description, red hair. Fairly grizzled character.

"You're one lucky bastard" the man said, a bit of a smile as he sat down next to him.
"Eugh...where the hell am I?", Grim replied, his head pounding and still a bit disorientated
"You're on the KMS Forgotten One. I'm Captain Thaddeus Valentine" Thaddeus extended an arm to help the patient up.
"Grim, Calgor Grim. No title though I'm afraid. Captain Thaddeus Valentine? Cant say I have heard of you..." He took Thaddeus' arm and managed to sit up slowly.
"You may not have done, I'm not normally around these parts. Krath Dynasty Logistics. I was on a delivery and saw your ship go down, you looked like you could use a hand. I managed to find the wreckage and went to extract you from it, that ship took one hell of a beating and sure as hell didn't survive the crash too well."
"Eugh, the ship, my employer is going to be furious..."
"Don't worry about that, you have better things available than working for some business. From the looks of things you know how to fly a ship, and I could do with people that know how to fly a ship."
"You want me as a pilot? It almost seemed too good to be true and yet here was this man offering him a job.
"Of course I do. You're special my friend. For a starter you were able to stop a ship of that size from total destruction and land it. Second, you shouldn't have even survived it and here you are lying in a bed as healthy as can be. It's the work of Krath my friend. Your injuries were severe, life threatening and yet you're healing so quickly it's unnatural."
"Krath?" As Thaddeus handed him a small booklet entitled "Krath, the truth of the galaxy"

Grim studied that booklet for the rest of the journey as Thaddeus continued to explain to him all about Krath and the galaxy. Thaddeus had helped save his life and, by the looks of the booklet, saved his soul and very being. It was intriguing and when Thaddeus eventually dropped him off at a starport on Shesharile there was only one thing Grim could say:

"Tell me more about Krath..."

And thus Calgor Grim was enlightened to Krath and its role in the galaxy. Thaddeus took the Devaronian on as his apprentice, accepting him and helping induct him into the Krath Dynasty. Eventually even naming him as his successor, despite concerns from officers about the lack of experience or time spent with the faction. Indeed many of the High Council found this odd that someone mostly unknown would be selected to lead a long standing Krath Department. Thaddeus was also proven correct sensing something different about him. It would be a few months after that, when a member of the Jedi Order, Hawwi Joshi (sp?) informed him of a rare gift, a sensitivity to the powers of the force. This finally closing one of many mysteries, what saved him after that crash? The death of his friend and mentor Thaddeus hit him hard. Thaddeus stepped down as Captain and handed the title to Calgor in sudden circumstances. With no warning to his colleagues, he upped and left, disappearing from existence. A few weeks later, Calgor received a holocron:

"To Captain Calgor Grim. If you are reading this then my last will and testament have been carried out. You have always been a good friend and a good student and you proved an excellent officer. You may be concerned for my welfare and why I have been quiet for so long and now I feel you need to know. A few months after I found you, I had an accident. I was subjected to a brief dose of radiation from a malfunctioning engine coil. Since then I've been sick...very sick. There's something wrong with my head and the pain is getting worse every day and I know that soon it will kill me. Medication keeps me somewhat in control but they wear off. I haven't got a lot of time left and I don't want to go through any more pain. There's nothing I or anyone else can do about it so I have decided to set co-ordinates on a large star nearby. It may seem rash and unpredictable but it's what I want. I have full confidence in you as a leader and believe you will help bring about great things with the Dynasty. You always have shown promise. You will find along with this message, title deeds to some properties I own. They are yours now, I wont be needing them any more. Krath truly will be with you and I will be able to be before Krath myself, proud of doing my duty to he and my colleagues. Congratulations and I hope to see you again in the Krath afterlife bar for some spirit cocktails." The holocron image of Thaddeus laughed and smiled a little before cutting out. The death of his friend was a major turning point and gave Calgor the desire to keep working to do well and make his former master and friend proud.


We flash forward to the present day. Captain Calgor Grim, Commander of Logistics and a Knight of the force. His inexperience was once seen with scepticism but trust placed in him has not been misplaced. He stands proud upon the command bridge of the KMS Empress Teta, one of the Dynasty's greatest vessels. He projects an imposing figure, 1m 97, rather lofty over some of his more human counterparts and yet the build is rather more narrow. His darkened red skin still baring the long standing reminder of the crash in various places. Over time his personality has mellowed, his old master Thaddeus teaching him one of the most important lessons which has stuck with him throughout his career: "Just because they are your commanding officer, doesn't mean you have to fear them". Calgor continues to follow that advice to this very day and is often engaged in lengthy discussions with his commanding officers and other department heads. His fiery personality is often accompanied by a sense of humour. He makes the occasional rash action but his superiors never fail to respect or understand his point of view. The dark pilot suit of his early days as a humble "Warrant Officer" of logistics remains hung up in one of his new ships while he spends the rest of his time proudly wearing his paladin armour.

His logistics days continue but now, Grim seeks a new challenge, to further develop his mastery of the force and to perhaps follow up on that young devaronian dream...to explore.

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(OOC: Done, go nuts )

I hate this, I shouldn't have volunteered for this. Calgor thought. The place was very warm and unpleasant. Very loud too. He hated being on the ground but these were his direct orders...

The Krath paladin armour had been left behind, locked away aboard the "Macroship", his YT-1760. He didn't like leaving that ship behind, it had been broken into once before on a world like this so this time he was taking no chances. He'd dressed down for the occasion, something darker in colour, plain simple grey robes with fabric shirt. The temperature was touching 30 degrees (Celsius) so it would not be wise to overdress. Under the left side of the cloak was hidden his blaster which he ironically nicknamed "Silencer". Hardly the ideal choice of weapon for someone training to be a Knight of the Force but it would have to do. Pulling the grey hood over his face and adjusting the waist, he stepped out of the loud hanger bay, being confronted by an even louder concourse.

He was being barged about left, right and centre by crowds of people trying to get on and off ships. It was claustrophobic in there even for him, finally starting to navigate through the crowds of alien life forms. Some of the species he recognised from previous journeys and knew to stay clear of. He slipped past the last row of queued customers and stepped out the doors into the baking heat. Stepping out of the doorway to avoid the cattle march of personnel, Grim was able to take stock of the situation. It was a large busy city, the buildings were a clear white colour, possibly to try and reflect some of the heat. A large selection of taverns seemed to be around here as well, a few eating establishments and the usual for around space ports. With so many refugees or migrant workers coming in and out of space ports, the number of taverns and cheap restaurants around them were ridiculous and the quality was often dubious. The street was divided in two, not by any physical divide but more by the two streams of people going in both directions, many of them also wearing various cloaks to shield from the harsh. He was trying to focus on where to head first but something was throwing his concentration. Trying to focus on it, his stomach gave a low quiet grumble. He hadn't eaten all day and was hungry. He managed to pick out a particularly nice looking place...or at least nicer than all the others, one that looked less like you would be knifed to death in. Grim didn't fancy a fight today. Stepping into the two way stream of people, he allowed the flow to take him in the right direction, all the while his eyes constantly checking around him for possible threats and trying to keep his mind open to the possibility of the force attuned beings.

Finding his stop, a small bar. he managed to jump out of the flow and into a doorway. He took one look inside, it was relatively busy. Fairly tidy with a large number of wooden seats, dim lanterns and a variety of customers. The walls were given some sparce decoration, a few random vehicle components, most of them broken. It seemed to be run by a strange tall long faced being in a brown stained apron, by the looks of it a Muun. By Krath haven't come across one of those in ages...do I even remember the language?

Stepping inside he made his way over to the bar, again keeping an eye on everyone else around him to ensure he was safe. Their minds seemed easy to read, none of them showing any particularly hostile vibes. Approaching the bar the Devaronian kept a hand on a small satchel containing a small amount of Nova, a fairly safe currency in these parts.

'Excuse me...sir? Mind if a traveller gets something to eat?' He was fairly sure that it was understandable or in the right tongue. He was trying to get it right without having to rely on the force as a translator.

Excellent description of the scene. It would be sad to jump from scenario to scenario after such a post, so I will do my best to weave the scenarios into each other.

The Muun looked up while continuing to rub the bar's surface with a damp piece of cloth. It looked like he could really use a new one.

"Y'know, out here you need to adapt" the Muun replied in Basic. "I can't run a business if I can't speak to my customers, ey?"

He threw the cloth to his side and leaned on the counter. "I'm impressed you know your uhns and ehs, though. You don't hear many speaking like that in this part of the Galaxy."

He turned around and got a plaque. "Not much technology in my diner, I like it old fashioned," he said, handing Calgor the plaque with the menu.

"True, wanted to try and share a common tongue for a moment, pun unintended", refering to his species long forked tongues
"I like old fashioned though, the galaxy moves too quickly and sometimes you just need to slow the pace of life a little and enjoy it" taking the menu from his hands, flicking through the options trying to see past the occasional stain on the menu.
"Hm, you know what? I'll let you pick. Whenever I travel somewhere I always like to try new foods. Being your area you probably know a few local delicacies or two? I'll take one of them. You accept Nova as payment? Calgor presents a small green lump of rock. It was the size of a bolt and a deep emerald colour. This was a fragment of a Nova Crystal, one which he had chipped apart for a more portable currency.

It seems you have player interaction under control as well. I have no doubts about your progress. For the sake of the current setting, we'll do a couple of posts before going into unmoderated combat. I will have it take place in the current bar.

The barkeep grinned as he took back the menu. "Excellent."

"Of course I accept Nova, good sir. This is the Outer Rim after all. Credits don't mean much around here, but sadly I can't afford to refuse them."

"We do serve a delicious Devaronian cake, but I take it since you're here you want to try something more exotic to you. My chef makes a wonderful Krakana filet."

The Muun examined the Nova crystal. "That will get you a drink as well. Any preferences? I have some fine ales and wines."

"Just had to be sure of course, but considering the current climate cant afford to not. I think I will try that Krakana fillet, not come across that before so not sure how it's supposed to be prepared. Ale wise, surprise me. I'm after something to replace the Aldeerian brew.
Calgor presented a small flash from around his waist on his right side
"It's just all kick and no flavour. Try a bit if you want? This stuff serves better use as en engine cleaner rather than a drink. Hell it's what I use it for. Not like a good Devaron Spring Whisky. My god that stuff is just fantastic. Not many bottles left of it but they go for more than a few hundred thousand. I'll take whatever you got, keep the change too."

The Muun straightened up and grimaced, shaking his head and hands in disapproval. "Ugh-- No thanks I'll have none of that Aldeerian poodoo, no offense."

"I'll pour you a nice foamy stout I imported recently. For that amount of 'change' though, I'll give you a sampler of Muon Gold as well. It's a banned drink in the Core Worlds, and generally frowned upon even out here. It's quite the trip, you'll feel very clear-minded but you should take it in small doses. Some consider this spice a drug rather than a drink."

The barkeep handed Calgor a small nondescript flask, and plonked a large empty tankard on the counter. "You'll have a seat and make yourself comfortable. I'll have your order served up soon. The fillet will take a moment, but it'll be worth it!" he said as he kissed his fingers.

"Fair enough, acquired taste anyway. Let's see what this is like then."
Grim watched the man leave before moving to the tankard. Taking a sniff of it he was trying to identify potency. Quite a good brew it had to be said, his paranoia was kicking in though, still checking around and trying to see if he could pick anything up in the drink. Seemed relatively fine and decided to give it a try.

Bloody hell...good stuff that. Flavour, potency. Might buy some off this man afterwards.

Luckily his force discipline was keeping his body and mind mostly focused, although he could feel a kick in the drink which could easily sway lesser men. While he was waiting he brought out a small datapad to recap his instructions.
I suppose I can complete this...

"While you're here, dont suppose you know of any local erm...sights shall we say? Anything of special interest of course." he said, toying with another small chunk of crystal in his right hand.