106 BBY; King was born. Well, a Morellian was born that would later go by that name. The Morellian Commonwealth was already facing a multitude of problems at this time, suffering the barbs of piracy that would later seal the doom of the entire system. King's parents, farmers as they were, did not flourish at this time. Galactic demand of the Commonwealth's resources had dwindled in the face of the effort it would take to ensure their safe transportation. Too much hassle, it was decided. Still, they worked away, earning their pittance selling to the local markets, and reared another child a few years after King was born. Another son. King and his brother were fast friends and occassional rivals, as is often the case with siblings. Still, their bond ran deep. All throughout their youngs lives, they depended on each other and pushed one another to greater heights. It was this brotherly encouragement that pushed King to do better in his studies than he might have otherwise, earning top marks during his time at school and eventually becoming a prime candidate for the Morellian Enforcers, a crack unit of lawmen that roamed the Commonwealth righting wrongs wherever they happened to crop up.
Time went on like it tends to, and his brother graduated as well. He decided against a life of lawbringing and instead settled for tending the family's farm, as their parents had gotten on in their years. Tragedy struck, however, when his brother, concerned about the effects it might have on his livelihood, stood up against a land baron's annexation of a nearby tract that would cut off a valuable freshwater source from the family's stead. The land baron, far removed from pity, struck a blow that would forever change the life of young King. His family had been killed; gunned down in the name of progress and the almighty credit. Destroyed by grief, King set out for revenge. The land owner, it had been revealed, had long-lasting business ties with a gang of pirates that had long been ravaging the lanes out of the Commonwealth. Unfortunately, he had deeper ties with the local government, preventing King any sort of judicial recourse. Because of this, King organized an unofficial posse of sorts, thrown together of similarly wronged Enforcers, Scouts, and Rangers and set to work on a secret war against the baron. Fire and blood followed for decades, with plenty of losses on either side of the conflict.
Eventually, though, King managed to come face to face with the crooked baron. What followed was a scene so horrific and unsettling that it resulted in King's expulsion from the ranks of the Enforcers and summary incarceration. Tried for treason, murder, and a host of other charges, King was set for execution. Luckily, King had his own friends. Friends who, in their time alongside him during the range war had set out gathering evidence of the government officials' corruption. When the truth came to light, the public began an extended grassroots campaign and cried out for justice. Any and all higher-ups who had been turned crooked during their tenure were rounded up and locked away. King was released and his record cleared of wrongdoing, the Morellian government more than happy to get away from the scandal as quickly as they could. Reinstated as a lawman, King went back to work, though the youthful fire he'd once possessed for truth and justice had been snuffed out, with only a cold, exacting sense of right and wrong remaining.
It would only be a few years after King's reinstatement that the Commonwealth buckled under the weight of the continued piracy. A flotilla set out from their home in search for a new land to make their own. King, disillusioned of his loyalty to his people at this time, went along, reluctantly. People needed protecting, and so he protected them. That was his role as an Enforcer, after all. Eventually, the time aboard the flotilla became harsh for the remaining Morellian people. Rations ran short and the 'have nots' began to far outweigh the 'haves'. Some few years into the flotilla's search, King cut himself loose of the whole affair, setting out on his own rather than watch the slow, continued destruction of his kind. The Morellians would, in time, find refuge with the Arkanians on Arkanis, for better or for worse; their unique pshysiological makeup lending itself well to the Arkanian's research. King would not be around to witness some of the further atrocities that befell his people, turning himself instead towards a life of gunslinging and running.
And so it came to pass that 'King' was born. A soubriquet that originated from his time fighting the land baron. "He may be a baron, but our man here's a king," they'd say of him. That 'unnatural' Morellian strength, skill and longevity placed him right square in the middle of plenty of Galactic conflicts and Outer Rim disputes. By handling plenty of the latter, King made quite the name for himself in the more backwoods, destitute parts of the Galaxy.
One such incident occured on the planet Zeffo. Wandering as the Morellian was wont to do, he came across a man named Muglar, an ill-tempered Duros bounty bounty and former Republic Colonel. The two of them, seemingly by chance, each independently stumbled upon a plot by a local gang of brigands to rob a nearby bank. Bounties had been offered for the head of the gang, The Zeffo Kid, and, rather that compete for it, King and Muglar decided to cooperate. After hatching a scheme, it was decided that King would infiltrate the gang, gain their trust, and lead them into an ambush that Muglar had orchestrated. Unfortunately, their plan was discovered and Muglar was nearly killed. Things weren't looking great for the two bounty hunters, but King stoked the flames of the Kid's pride and eventually managed to convince him to agree to a gunfight. The Kid's draw-hand was no match for King, and after a shootout with the rest of the gang, the bounty hunters managed to escape, splitting the bounty and amicably going their seperate ways.
As a gun-for-hire, King found work with the Republic and the Confederacy during the Clone Wars and some years later with the Rebellion and the Empire. Long gone was the bright-eyed, righteous advocate for justice; all that remained was a steady pair of gun-hands. Throughout both wars, the Morellian made himself known as a reliable triggerman, so long as the opposing side never made a better offer. This led to plenty of credits coming his way, and even more bounties.
It was shortly after the conclusion of the Galactic Civil War on Jakku, and the inevitable reinstitution of the Republic that King found his way to Coruscant. There, he met a Twi'lek woman; Selana Oodalu. Her family, expats from Ryloth, had, over the previous few generations, made a mint for themselves importing fine clothing, furniture, pottery, and other curiosities from Ryloth and other 'less-civilized' worlds to the former galactic capital. Selana, requiring the protection that her status as a wealthy merchant dictated, hired King. In time, their relationship would grow more intimate and, despite the knowledge of a Twi'lek's relatively short lifespan in comparison to his own, King felt comfortable for the first time in nearly a century. Eventually, King retired from her service and they settled down together. The two of them would get married and acquire an apartment just off of Independence Center. This simple, happy life would continue for nearly four decades, the couple growing closer and more in love with each passing year.
Then the First Order came. Fresh off of the Final Order's defeat at Exegol, the First Order's Citadel began assembling over Coruscant. It was a dark time for the planet and uncertainty reigned. After the examples were made of the Order's prisoners shortly after it landed, King wanted to flee; sell everything they had and try to start a new life somewhere else in the Galaxy. Selana wasn't as easily shaken. It was her belief that the Resistance's victory at Exegol would set a precedent throughout the galaxy and that hope would win the day. Then the world turned to fire and ash. The Citadel launched a preemptive strike against the city, hoping to quell any sense of rebellion. Selana was lost in the flame. It was nearly three months before the fire brigades managed to reach the section of the city where King and Selana lived. Any trace of her was gone, and King was, once again, alone.
For the months that followed, he grieved; heartbroken, angry, and knowing all too well that revenge would never be his to take. Despite his talent, skill, and experience, a single man would be useless in the face of the technological horror that the First Order had wrought. So he resigned himself to wandering once more until, for better or for worse, he stumbled upon a protege.
Standing at five feet and eleven inches, this man doesn't immediately cut an imposing figure, being of a relatively average size and shape for most all humanoid life in the Galaxy. Still, there's something about his sharp blue eyes and manicured moustache that belie some sort of experience. His jaw is wide and strong and what little can be seen of his lips shows them to be full. Stubble frames his face and a crop of medium-length brown hair is parted loosely to one side, a comb or brush likely not entering into the equation.
A quiet, stoic type that's looking to make a little bit of money in the Galaxy.
Been Around for a While - Still a spry 143 year old, King has seen his fair share of trouble. Maybe he knows you? Or your parents? Or your grandparents?
Gun for Hire - Good in a fight and largely unburdened by morality, King is always down to make a credit or two helping folks.
Zhu Yan - I don't trust a word this man says, but his credits are real enough.
Eriu Jynx - Sweet, dangerous, and smart as a whip.
Naia - Real perty doctorin' fish lady.
Liz'diot - I got no clue.
Ora - Would-be stowaway and protege.
Sumi Kora - Little Sumi. She's made something of herself after a long, hard road.
Karr'roga - Big 'un.
Kasia Ashkuri - A good lady. Helped me get my hat back.