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<b>History:</b>
Jol Major was born to a family of farmers on Arf; though, like all Homoda, they were multi-skilled and the farmhandling was simply what paid the most money at the end of the day for a time. They took to menial labor well and the Major family liked to supply for others, thus specified in construction, farming, demolition and other talents that paid a public service and could put some money in their pockets at the end of the day. But they always found the animals they herded to be what drew in the most amount of credits and thus it was always the most forefront business of the day, being located in an area specifically ideal without much space to create loads of competition they couldn't handle. His father was an old man who had gotten back from the war tired of a noisy life and wishing to live quiet; his mother had dealt with so many broken people before she wanted to hide herself away. So they chose their home to come back to, and they built a family living a simple life earning money.

Jol Major was born into this life, and he lived it along with his father and mother who took great pride in thier family business, expecting him to one day take it over as he was indocrtinated into their daily routines and taught their trades. In particular even before he was ten years old he was good at piloting the vehicles they had on he arm and eventually his father relented to allow him to drive their car around. Sometimes, he even took it joyriding in secret, feeling the wind through his hair.

However, Jol eventually discovered what his parents ignored for years; this was an extremely failing business method. Their days performing odd jobs here and there and living like farmers would come to an end relatively soon, as the smog and destruction of the ozone layer on their planet worsened Arf over the decades and made it harder for their crops to grow. They didn't actively earn much money and animals were expensive to keep around. In the end, as he grew up he discovered this simple life they led was for none other than self-satisfaction and it was a subject he often got into arguments with his parents. In turn, they argued and cracked down harder on him, telling him that he should accept life as it is and do everything he can to survive well off what they made without complaint. Or else he'd turn out to be a horrible man when he grew up.

He was, after all, born with a golden birth mark on his scalp, right at the crown of his skull. This birthmark came with a social stigma, a curse in the eyes of his parents that they desperately annoyed but were too quick to point out when he stepped out of line. His father repeately told him that if he fell in with the wrong crowd, forgot the honour he should have and the life that had been built for him, he'd become less than trash. Even going up through school, when he had shorter hair and other children could see it, he felt both their's and the teacher's glancing eyes. A boy who was destined, cursed, fated, to become someone close to crime and infamy when he grew older. While one may think this made life hard for Jol, it was the exact opposite.

It made everything easy.

When he was old enough to understand that he hated this mundane life, hanging by the edge of poverty, he would look in the mirror and know that he had a talent beyond milking cows. To him, it wasn't a prophecy of self-destruction but a proposition. Jol proved to have a knack for running his mouth and getting in and out of trouble as a result. Thus, the day when he met the Poker Family marked the turning point in his life where his mouth and his birthmark came in handy. One of his classmates ended up pissing off he wrong person while Jol and five others were out on a trip into one of the bustling slums they lived close by for an errand he can't even remember anymore. It was rather easy to piss off the wrong person just by being disrespectful, and the instant the boy was hurt for it and most of his classmates didn't know what to do when this gangster's anger rose higher and higher. Jolw as capable of talking him down by selling out the exact boy that had angered him, ensuring that he himself wouldn't be in trouble by association.

This encounter showcased the exact moment his life changed. Not long after that day, he met the same man again while traveling through the city, this time helping him on a little task he needed a distraction for. Jol never asked why he needed someone taking the attention of the people on the street, but he was paid money to do it and so he did it without much fuss. Several more interactions like these, and he was soon introduced to the boss of the Poker group. The man he was repeatedly seeing was the member known as 'Heart of Clubs', whom Jol had grown close enough to that the introduction was possible, as he repeatedly watched Jol after their first meeting and saw a buddig talent in him for their line of work.

After that, he came home less and less. More arguments to be had there than anywhere else, even performing jobs on the streets. Jol became the getaway driver for a lot of the group's smaller-time bids before they began growing bigger and bigger in influence, to the point where he as the new Ace of Spades had far more important things to be doing than driving little punks around a few quadrants after a heist or two. His criminal record grew the further he got within the family's order, and with that the love of his parents diminished significantly as he grew older. Eventually, his own mothe rand father said he was lost to them and disowned them for his circle of 'friends' and his lifestlye.

That day marked the last time he'd ever been on Arf.

After that, the next five years was simply a blur of crime, money, women and booze. He wanted to be rich, and this was the quickest way to become rich that fate had in store from him for the day of his birth, after all. However, he continued to live it up within a growing criminal syndicate, he soon began to realize the dangers of this life. Between the 'business meetings', the dangerous runs at other up-and-coming organizations, the beatings to those who didn't know their place, gaining power and power... He felt it for the first time. The dangers cropping up here and there around him eventually resulted in a paranoia that not only he but most others in his position felt. The terrible things they'd have to do for the sake of self-preservation and the backstabbing that went on within this kind of life began to take a toll. People in this kind of life never seemed to live long enough to grow old unless they wer ealready high up in the chain of command, directly related by blood and people who were beginning to be disconnected from their emotions forever. The kind of sins they committed warped their minds and all they could think about was going up, higher and higher. But Jol wondered to himself whether he wanted to fly like this, restricted by people he barely knew at the end of the day and who watched im to make sure he did every little thing they wanted. The little life he had right now was one given to him by the Poker gang, and they could take it away just as easily. He lived with a wife that he didn't love and who didn't love him, he went out to perform jobs he hated and hurt people he didn't want to hurt, and he took shit from people whose faces he wanted to spit in.

Staying up in the middle of the night with one eye open in your boss's house not knowing exactly why you were there or why you said yes to stay--- it made Jol feel like he was going insane.

So one day, he left it all behind. He knew lots of things and a lot of places where bad stuff went down. Enough at least to know just which place he could go to stage a death--- his own, with the destruction of a ship they had him meeting a few choice people on. Cost a few thousands credits, but barely anyone was hurt other than Jol Major, Poker's very own Ace of Spades, their reputable getaway man and wise guy died that day trapped within the debris in a freak explosion.

That's fine.

Around a year or so later so far out in space that the Homoda-area ran 'business' would likely never think to look, a man named Kel Lion who looked just about completely different and with no such birthmark visible on his scalp very quickly used his smart mouth and knowledge of how lower-level crime operated to twist a few arms here and there to get his hands on items Rapport didn't want normal people to get. Some of this was bad, but other pieces were a bit more 'legal'. Sometimes. A man still had to make money for himself, even if he swore he'd always make it on his own terms. What was most important was the ability to say "No." whenever you wanted and spit in whoever's face you wanted. Within reason, of course.