Jacus Nolan
From An Evolution in RP :: Database
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Personal Information
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| Name: | Captain Jacus Nolan |
| Age: | 36 |
| Species: | Human |
| Affiliation: | Neutral |
Physical Description
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| Gender: | Male |
| Height: | 6'1 |
| Hair Color: | Curly Dark Brown |
| Eye Color: | Brown |
Family
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| Mother: | Kateri Nolan |
| Father: | Marcus Nolan (Deceased) |
Awards
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Contents |
Personality
From childhood, Jacus has had a wicked sense of humor and an irrepressible and apparently unlimited energy to waste the things he enjoys. He could spend days at a time dashing from project to project with an enthusiasm that made it exhausting to even watch him. Even as he grew he still took delight in childish pranks and as a grown man, Jacus still has a certain immaturity that can both frustrate and amuse those he interacts with.
He sees things in black and white, making it easy for him to make snap decisions which he does frequently, much to the annoyance of his advisors who often don’t agree with his choices. He can become petulant when stressed, or forced into a corner he doesn’t like, and is know through the base to throw objects around in order to relieve his frustrations. The walls of his cluttered office are pitted with dents from the heavier items; remnants from the more difficult days when throwing a rubber ball just didn’t do the job. Although he has never turned his attention onto a person in his employ during one of his rages, the staff still remain on tenterhooks when he is in a bad mood, keen not to be the first.
From birth Jacus has been a doer and not a thinker. He leaves as much of the paper-pushing to assistants, preferring to lead the Wolves in person and ignore the administrative exercises. When he is cornered into doing paperwork he often makes a quick and sloppy job of it, anything that gets it out of the way and lets him get on with the more interesting aspects of running the Wolves. Which is normally tinkering with something. If he’s not working on his own Ugly then Jacus will be hovering around the mechanics busy refining other fighters or just twiddling with a few spare parts to see what he can make them do. Sitting idle for any period of time makes him fidgety.
Although at first he resented the assumption that he would take over Marcus’ job when he was gone, the team is now Jacus’ pride and joy as they were his fathers, and he is fiercely protective of both their reputation and the people under him. That doesn’t stop him from becoming frustrated at the responsibility and pressure leading the not-strictly-legal business forces on him and Jacus is heard loudly and often swearing that he’ll resign and leave them to themselves, but it’s a hollow threat.
Raised surrounded by death, it has always been a normal part of his life so Jacus sees what the Wolves do as no more cruel than evicting tenants or putting down animals. Unpleasant, yes, but necessary, and if the Black Wolves do it then no-one else has to and they are able to make sure it’s done right –no messy ends.
What the people he shares his life with often don’t see is the times when Jacus inexplicably crashes, retiring into himself, exhausted. He takes his leadership seriously, contrary to what it may seem, and lives in a constant state of worry that he’ll make the wrong choice, that something will go wrong and his father’s dream will die around his ears, and the lives of the people on board with it. Used to living as he pleased and doing what he wanted, Jacus is struggling to adjust to the idea that his actions now have affects on people other than himself. The man has no issues with the morals behind the mercenary group he runs, and indeed prefers the way the Wolves do things. Preferring that they are up front about their position, unlike most governments, and don’t hide behind false promises or shady deals. However, he is still unsure if they are doing the right thing and the moral dilemma is one he is constantly toying with. The position is taking a toll on him, and Jacus is constantly running one step ahead of exhausted, to the concern of the people who knew him before the responsibility of running the group was placed on his shoulders, and are able to see just how much it is affecting him.
History
In 42 BtP two men deserted their Republic Navy squadron in a seemingly unplanned and meaningless act of rebellion. Marcus Nolan and his close friend Stans K’Lort were talented pilots and the Republic sent out an order for their capture after the desertion, but the two men escaped arrest, hiding in the backwaters of the Galaxy for three years, being careful to remain unseen and unheard. In 39 BtP they became less cautious and began flying errands for anyone who could afford what they were asking for, putting their Republic training to use as hired muscle. News of their moderately impressive success rate spread and as their client base grew, the two expanded their small business, accepting only the most skilled pilots they could find into their employ, now christened the Black Wolves. This had, in fact, been the plan from the very beginning, a dream hatched months before their desertion and carefully planned out in minute detail.
As their business grew, the Wolves shifted their base to a small space station they had bought from a scrap-yard and repaired, which they concealed in an asteroid belt off Nar Shaada and shifted from planet to planet as the need arose. To their swelling ranks of crack pilots Marcus and Stans added scientists and tech experts, charged with not only providing the most up-to-date equipment available, as much as their originally tight budget could afford, but with upgrading everything they could lay hands on and creating new technologies and techniques.
It was on the base that Marcus met his future wife, a human scientist called Kateri Roche working in the weapons upgrades sector. The romance was rocky from the start and it became commonplace for one or the other of the pair to storm off to a private refuge or to only speak via messages for days at a time. Despite this, Kateri managed to get pregnant and overnight Marcus morphed into an overprotective future father, much to the frustration of his fiercely independent wife. Jacus Nolan was brought kicking and screaming into the world aboard his father’s base, and spent his childhood running almost wild through its many passages. Although his parents tried to enforce discipline, the small boy was the darling of most aboard and could get away with a lot more than he should have. He became the terror of the innocent worker, delighting in springing both elaborate and childishly simple practical jokes on anyone who seemed to be a good target and wouldn’t bring the incident to the attention of his parents, who were less than approving of his pranks.
At the appropriate age he was sent away to school on Corellia as an attempt to drill some discipline and knowledge into him, and though he was furious at his parents at first for what he perceived was an attempt to get rid of him, Jacus soon discovered that he enjoyed learning and the company of more than the small handful of children he had had as playmates aboard the Den. Proving to be a quick student at the subjects that interested him -the practical courses- his attitude towards the more theoretical classes often ended him in trouble when he refused to pay attention, or just failed to show up. Constantly in trouble for his hijinks and lack of respect, he left school early, choosing instead to return to the Den and draw on the knowledge of the many people living there. He also worked closely with Marcus, learning how the business was run and the many secret details of what went on behind the various closed doors. Although at first he reveled in the knowledge that was being bestowed upon him, Marcus’ reluctance to hand over any control to him, and his insistence that things must be done his way frustrated the headstrong young man and after a meaningless but fiery argument over the deployment of greener pilots, he packed his bags and left, heading to the outer rims in his own battered fighter to work as small-time smuggler. The work agreed with him, allowing him a freedom and independence he hadn’t experienced before and even after the two had made up Jacus stayed away, leaving his father to captain the Wolves how he saw fit. It was only on the older mans death that he returned to take up the role of Captain of the Black Wolves.
For the past year Jacus has worked at becoming familiar with the Wolves, which has become smaller and more elite since he left. He is assisted by a team of his father’s old friends, men too old to fly in combat but who are anxious not to see the Wolves fall to ruin. They keep an eye on the goings on and offer their advice, whether Jacus wants it or not. Some say it is more these man than Jacus who control the Wolves, but they know that Jacus will always have the final say in any decisions made. The galaxy at large doesn’t know who leads the Wolves, meaning that Jacus can fly with his men without being at risk of a personal attack. By and large, clients deal only through his assistant, and only in special cases does Jacus involve himself with the customer relations side of the Wolves. He is only referred to as The Captain, or by his call sign in any communications. Although he understands that this is both for his own benefit and to further the layer of secrecy surrounding the Wolves, Jacus sometimes feels that the leadership has taken his very identity. This isn’t helped by the fact that most of the workers address him as something other than his birth name.
The Black Wolves
The Black Wolves are what Marcus Nolan liked to grandly refer to as an ‘army for hire’, in reality a collection of mismatched Uglies and species from the four corners of the galaxy, brought together in search of some higher truth and a healthy bundle of credits.
The Black Wolf base is currently located in the middle of a small asteroid field off Borleias, the deadly run through the chunks of rock to the base functioning as a sort of audition for any pilots wishing to join the Wolves’ ranks, who are then put through further grueling tests and background checks before being admitted to the team. The pilots in question are recruited by a handful of agents charged with keeping an eye out for promising talent and then quietly direct them towards the Wolves. Other jobs on the Den are filled in the same way, allowing the base to remain relatively unknown except to those who move in the right circles, or are interested in hiring them.
All pilots are provided with a space-worthy fighter and given free range to customize it to their personal preference, the only requirement being that they all bear the Wolf mark, a snarling wolf-cat. The pilots however are not nearly as much of a mishmash as their fighters. All supplied with matching flight suits and gear emblazoned with the symbol, giving them the appearance of a smoothly run military group, and in Marcus’ opinion, a team spirit that would otherwise be lacking. Jacus always privately thought that was sentimental nonsense, but the gear is efficient and top-class so he sees no need to change it.
All pilots choose their own call sign, and most like to personalize their gear and fighters with the nickname. Their name is embroidered on their flight suits for ease of recognition and some have taken to adding their call sign underneath, feeling that it is their identity within the Black Wolves.
The first and last rule drummed into every employee's head is the most important for their survival. Never betray the Wolves. That means never disclosing their location, their mission or indeed even admitting to the existence of the Wolves to any outside their ranks.
The Wolves' Den
The home base of the Black Wolves is lovingly referred to as the Wolves Den. Originally bought as a second hand, battered space station it was lovingly fixed up and put to use as their base. Extensions have been made over the years each time more room is needed, meaning that the Den is now a complex warren of corridors, rooms and workshops that are all but impossible for a newcomer to navigate. Although not the height of luxury -not even close- the base must be a functioning home for the workers living on it and as such is equipped with everything necessary for their survival.
The Dens workshops are where a team of mechanics and the odd scientist work to improve and re-invent everything used by the Wolves. There is also room for the pilots to work alongside the mechanics on their fighters. Pilots are encouraged to work on their own ugly, to know its workings on the insides as well as in the cockpit, but the mechanics ensure that all fighters are space-worthy before they leave the hanger.
Pilots and workers are roomed with either by themselves or with a buddy in basic accommodation, usually found in the general vicinity of the mess hall. There is also a large-ish gym available for use to everyone on board, and a small kitchen garden used to grow fruit and vegetables to spice up the otherwise mundane fare usually served.
Alcohol, drugs and other such substances are forbidden on the Den, but it is accepted that there is a small black market for whatever pilots want, and even Jacus has a bottle or two of strong liquor stashed away in his room.
Currently there is one full squadron stationed on the Wolves Den, along with a handful of solo pilots and miscellaneous workers who seem able to turn their hands to most things.
