Being found as a baby that was hidden in a K-V1N nursing droid on a planet waged in war, Kevin never knew anything of his heritage. That is other than his Mandalorian heritage he grew up in within clan Shereshoy. He was raised as a foundling and the only family he knew of was his clan. His earliest memories was him playing war with his other brothers and sisters when they were not being taught of the creed and the Resol’nare and of the honor one should hold themselves to in life. His childhood, at least in his mind, was a happy one. He was never treated in any way other than family and he never had want of anything else. Then the war happened.
He was ten years old when the Mand’alor made the call to war, and of course with his clan being a large one mostly known for their ori’ramikad (elite Mandalorian soldiers) they were expected to be at the front lines of every battle. With Kevin being of close enough age to learn the ways of war, his Alor at the time brought him and many other of the foundlings with the elder Mandalorians so they may start their journey to pass the trials and earn their armour and calling of becoming a Mandalorian. He was merely ten years old when he first witnessed the ravages and genocides of war and as he grew over the years through the war it all became second nature to him as if this is where he belonged.
By his mid-teens he had already passed most of his trials though he was still unsure of his path, especially once their Alor had fallen in battle. A glorious death? This was a notion he just could not understand at the time though the man that Kevin came to think of as his father, a Mandalorian Knight that had joined their clan after defected from the Jetii and Republic to take up the Mandalorian ways, would sit him down and teach him of not only the importance of living the right way but also the importance of dying the right way. Dying for a cause or reason that was true to his heart and only he could answer what that truly would be. With the fall of the Alor, Clan Shereshoy was in disarray, lacking any guidance or way to continue the war that the Mand’alor is pushing them on. They were not Neo-crusaders and they were going to be lost to a path that was not true to the clan’s ideals of living life to the fullest. Such is why the man Kevin considered a father took the mantle of Alor, and made teaching Kevin what he thought as the true ways of the Mandalorian one of his top priorities. For as much as Kevin saw this man as a father, he saw Kevin as his son as well.
The war ravaged on, and now Kevin was in his early twenties. He has passed his trials and has earned his right to be called a Mandalorian and wear the armour. He was devout to the way, enough so that there was talks within the clan of Kevin becoming the Alor’s second, He was brutal and precise in his warfare, with that fearlessness that came from a young man with everything to prove. His only moments of calm now were when he spent time with the clan’s forgemaster, studying the sacred art of making armour. His father could not be more proud with how Kevin was growing up. He battle prowess was known, but yet he was still not as narrow-minded as the neo-crusaders and the Mand’alor that the clan saw as one that was lost in the thrill of war. And yet they followed as any good Mandalorian would, would the honor of Mandalore, for the honor of the clan.
The bad times did not come until later in the war. After a battle lost against the Republic forces and their Jetii which nearly left Kevin for dead, his squadron killed off and chopped up by the wizard’s lightsabers. Kevin managed to survive and make his way back to the halls his clan was making home in. This is where he would learn of hatred and true horror, for as he arrived at the clan’s halls all he would find is blood and death accompanied by the screams of the survivors. The Jetii attacked his clan to reclaim the Mandalorian Knights that defected from the Order. And with this they slaughtered everyone, women and children too. Kevin, still wounded from his earlier battle walked in horror over the bodies of his family, finding survivors and trying to tend to them as best as he could only to watch them die in his care. His hatred grew. He was now lost, without any known family unaware that some may still live and have escaped. Kevin was found by the Mand’alor himself with his Neo-crusaders as they arrived too late to give aid. Full of anger and rage he joined them to fly towards their next battle… Malachor V.
His next memories were those of disgust, for as the ship he was on was in the battle of Malachor the Republic unleashed their secret weapon which caused an energy vortex destroying most of both fleets and essentially destroying the planet below. Scream and cries for help before Kevin found himself floating alone in space. For how long he is unsure, all he knows is it felt like days, no months… eternity. His suit’s life support about to give up as a ship of Mandalorians flew by taking him in. They informed him that the Mand’alor is dead and the war is over. His people scattering through the galaxy. All Kevin could feel is a hatred of himself for he should have died with his clan, he felt dishonored and unworthy to go on. He turned to the life of a mercenary, refusing to return to Mandalore.
From here he began to make a name for himself, earning top credits working for all sorts of clients. From the Hutts to Czerka to criminal organizations, Kevin would work for them all so long as their credits were good. He would wander the galaxy aimlessly in the search for credits and a way to find his honor once more. To himself, he had already died either back at the fall of his clan or in the space around Malachor V. Now there was only to seek glory in death.