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Star Wars: Odysseys


Havelock Vetinari

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IC-Jaron:And as Djashell felt uneasy, Jaron walked with his head held high, shoulders straight, back erect, appearing perfectly calm and self-assured. Which, in actuality, he was. With a surety that could be gained only through control of the force, he knew that these droids wouldn't suddenly turn and fire upon them. And on the off chance the force decided to twist from his grasp like a snake, he had his lightsaber with him. Nobody would be able to pass his guard.As he walked, he pulled out his small, personal datapad, one that a friend had designed for him-it was perfectly clear, made of transparisteel all around, with a touch-sensitive screen. Activating the thing with merely a slight amount of pressure from his hand, he proceeded to sift through his list of clients and what they wished made, checking off those he was ready to deliver to at the moment. Quite a few of them, in fact.

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i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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IC(Corellia, Coronet Spaceport, Day 1):It was rather well lit for a bar, but that was simply because the bar itself sat right in the middle of the concourse. A lone Selonian sat hunched over the counter, sipping a soft drink and slowly scrolling through information on a datapad.Csarissa had spent the day making some final modifications to her ship's hyperdrive system, and was now looking through a list of possible destinations. Csarissa had not really been put of thr Corellian system before, and so figured Coruscant, the galaxtic capital, would be as good a place to start as any. She kept her mind open though, in case there were anywhere else to grab her interest.She took a sip of her drink. The cool fizziness was refreshing, particularly after a day of near constant work. She warily glanced around as she put her drink back down. Even if she was no longer an officer, old habits die hard. One of the basic lessons of any CorSec officer is to constantly be aware of one's surroundings—a lesson also quite useful in everyday life.She sighed and stood up, fishing some coins from her pocket for the barkeeper. She grabbed her datapad and leisurely headed off towards the hangar in which her ship was being held.

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IC (Battle Droids, NPCs, Day One)The droids were efficient and economical in their motions, moving at a set pace and turning each corner in the carpeted corridor with ease. The decorations on the walls were tasteful, various paintings, a few busts here and there and at each intersection, a large tapestry. Overall, the place spoke of both wealth and a sense of tastefulness that was quite rare among the rich. During the journey the battle droids did not speak, or even truly acknowledge the beings that were following them. Suddenly however, the group stopped and parted in front of an open doorway. The lead droid turned to the two beings and without ceremony, spoke in a voice devoid of any emotion. "The representative is waiting inside the study. He will see you now."

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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OOC: I haven't the foggiest clue what's near Tatooine, so here comes my first short IC with a vague unnamed planet thrown in as the destination. Ladies and gentlemen, this is the travel demo.IC(Aposisston, Day One, Leaving Tatooine): As the Jade Falcon - a perusal of its records after the interrogation had confirmed the name the bounty hunter had given the ship - left the atmosphere of Tatooine, the disguised Sith fugitive browsed the navcomputer's library of locations, searching for a nearby system that was far enough off the beaten path that nobody of note would be likely to pay any attention to it. After a few minutes of shuffling through system names and descriptions, he settled on one just a little bit further out into the rim, and set a heading for those coordinates. Within a few more minutes, the ship gained enough distance from the planet for engaging the hyperdrive to be safe, and the fugitive set the autopilot to alert him if anything came up that would force a deviation from the set course, and, after a moment of bracing against the command console as the hyperdrive kicked in, he left the cockpit, moving towards the cargo bay for a quick inspection.The results were not promising. Inguse Holn had, at the time of his death, had only enough spare credits to cover fuel costs, and he was down to two weeks worth of rations. The fugitive had already decided he would have to keep the Jade Falcon - it was the only way he could survive, since the slaughter on Lehon had proved that any stationary target could, eventually, be found and destroyed. Now it seemed he would soon have to fully take on the persona of the Ubese bounty hunter who was now mingling with Tatooine's atmosphere.

We will remember - Skies may fade and stars may wane; we won't forget


And your light shines bright - yes so much brighter shine on


We will remember - Until the skies will fall we won't forget


We will remember


We all shall follow doom

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IC: Kurvuurn Tchuul [shop, Lower Levels, Coruscant; Day One]All worlds with a suitably developed city had atleast some form of lower levels. A part of town that any being with a bit sense would avoid. Unfortunately, with all of its glamorous transparasteel skyscrapers and elegent buildings that pierced the sky, Coruscant was no exception to this rule. These places were filled with criminals and worse, making it a perfect place for one to hide. Even those who had lived there their entire lives could get lost in the maze of crumbling buildings and collapsing bridges.It also meant that rent was cheap, one of the reasons the being known as Kruvuurn had chosen the place for his mechanic's shop. It was far enough up on the buildings to discourage any illigal activity, but low enough that he wouldn't have to pay a claw and a leg to keep it open. Right now business was good, having just recieved payment on a small upgrade made on a customer's hyperdrive engine. It was only an increase of about 0.2, so the fee wasn't that much. One of the reasons Kruvuurn had repeat customers, his rates were low, even for this part of town.It also helped that his work was exceptionally good, or so they said. Praise wasn't on the Sauvax's list of needed things, but it did feel good to get. The crustaceal being was currently in his office, if it could be called an office. It was more of a small section of the main work area, divided by the C-shaped desk that was piled with datapads and spare parts. "Alright, see you tomarrow, Fetlan," Kruvuurn rumbled, Basic sounding strange from his large body, as he said goodbye to the last of his partners. Tapping a name into a datapad, one that was built for his strength and large digits, the Sauvax focused his attention on device infront of him.It was small, nothing more important then a tractor beam power core piece, but the being focused his entire attention on the device. His black eyes studied every detail, while his antenna flicked back and forth, gathering information that most humanoid beings couldn't detect. As he did whenever learning about new technology, Kruvuurn always studied thoroughly, not leaving out a single detail. The fact that he'd just installed one of these things on the Frontier Star just made it more relevant.It was later on his side of the planet, far past sunset, not that the Sauvax could see it from down here, and most of the mechanics had gone home. Not Kruvuurn, he had a power core to study.OOC: And so starts my character. Anyone need a ship upgraded? Hyperdrive, weapons, shields?[/advertisement]

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IC (Corellia, Coronet Spaceport, Day 1)Zakta stepped from the hangar, cloaked in his Mabari armor. Stepping from the view of the cameras, he checked to make sure his equipment was well secured. Sword, blaster, and tracer, just incase she managed to slip through his grasp. He paused, admiring the blade; covered in ancient ceremonial markings, light gleaming from its stainless surface. "Six years of service and still not a single stain..." he murmured, sheathing the vibrosword beneath his cloak. "Do not fail me in my mission this time, or any other..."He pulled out the datapad from Zeert, checking the target info for what seemed the hundredth time now. She had her ship docked in bay K4c3. Zakta smiled, studying his target's face one last time before shutting down the device."The hunt begins anew."

Edited by Alien Conspiracy

If you can't explain it, then it was probably an alien.

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IC-Jaron:With a quick apology to Djashell, something about how if he didn't get his business taken care of first he'd be far, far too inclined to listen in on what she was going to speak with Lott about, he quickly stepped forwards and into the main room."Hullo," was his quick greeting, his heterochromic eyes looking over at Lott Dod.

profiles i guess

i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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IC (Lott Dod, Day One, NPC)"Greetings." Lott Dod stood up from his chair. "I was led to believe there was another being with you?" Dod went through a mental list of his appointments today, this fellow didn't have the feel of a bounty hunter. If this was an assassination attempt (something he never ruled out) he was certain the presence of security droids in the room would deter him from acting so blatantly. That said, it never hurt to be careful and following up on the other hunter was the first step in that direction.

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC-Jaron:"Yes, but my business is unrelated to what I assume hers is," Jaron reassured, moving over to a chair. "Or, at least, slightly unrelated." He sat down, a slight gesture with a small amount of mental attraction supplied via the force meaning for Lott to sit as well."Now, would I be correct in assuming that the Trade Federation would help protect individual craftsmen, providing they got something in return?"

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i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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IC (Lott Dod, Day One, NPC)Dod sat down though he did not quite know why. He assumed it was force of habit and moved on. He would have to recheck his datapad after this meeting. This was most irregular. "That would depend on the services they could offer. Baking for example, is not exactly within our pureview." Dod clasped his hands and leaned forward. "I am merely the Federations representative If you wish for employment I understand that we have an entire office dedicated to such things..." The only reason he was handling the bounty hunters was because such things demanded a...delicate touch that many lacked.

Edited by Basilisk

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC-Jaron:"Baking, how...quaint," Jaron replied. "No, I do not wish to be hired. Instead, I wish for a route of safe travel. Many of the areas I need to go to involve my going straight through nests of pirates, which, frankly, are beginning to annoy me. Of course, there are Federation-controlled--Ahem, I mean, protected areas rather near that I could go through with less of a problem." He leaned back slightly, looking at Lott from his messy crop of hair."I will offer recompense, of course."

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i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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IC (Lott Dod, NPC, Day One)Lott Dod blinked several times. "If you want a travel license then that could easily be provided to you. If you want an escort...well, I am certain a few fighter craft could be deployed. For a nominal fee. Emergency response is free. Prolonged escorts are not." Lott Dod shook his head. He was a senator not a desk clerk, most of this could have been arranged by a visit to the local Federation office. He was starting to wonder how this fellow had got an appointment in the first place. "If you want a long-term contract, you will have to take that up with legal. I am no longer the head of that department." There had to be something more to this, nothing about this situation was adding up. Who made an appointment with a senator to set up an escort route?

Edited by Basilisk

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC-Jaron:"Ah, you issue travel licenses to travel through blockaded territory?" Jaron asked, interested. "Very well. But yes, I've been having trouble going through various areas. Near Kalee, for example, I had a nasty encounter with a band of bounty hunters fighting for the Huks. Nasty, nasty men, they were." He shrugged."Oh, by the way, have you sent emissaries to the Rakatan Archipelago recently?"

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i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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IC (Lott Dod, NPC, Day One)"We patrol those areas and operate within them. We have no blockades currently." It was an easy mistake to make, the media was always eager to demonize the Federation. To them a cargo escort was a battleship and a raid on a Hutt crime lord was a gross misuse of corporate power. The mention of bounty hunters fighting for the Huk caught Dod's interest. "Bounty hunters you say? How harrowing. How well armed were they?" At the mention of archipelago, Dod shook his head. "No. That area is restricted. The Federation, of course, obeys the laws of the Republic." The wheels in Dod's head were starting to turn, this being was asking many strange questions. There had to be a correlation between them.

Edited by Basilisk

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC-Jaron:As to the first answer, Jaron nodded slightly. Almost knowingly. Next, the bounty hunters. He motioned for Lott Dod to lean in close, taking on a conspiratorial attitude, it seemed."Modified versions of Army Mil-Spec gear," he said quietly. "Ships and weaponry and everything, far as I could tell. Some of the strongest blasters I'd seen in a while." He rolled his eyes slightly."Barely managed to avoid them. There I was, riding through the system to meet with a client, and it turns out the client's dead, and I have all of them wanting to seize my ship and force me to fight for them, or kill me if I didn't comply. Pirates of the worst kind, and all Bounty Hunters as well. I barely managed to get away from them, but whoo, boy, they have to have been paid a hefty sum." He leaned back, acting for all the world like he'd just revealed an important secret to Lott Dod. Which he might have, he might not have...the others in the room had no way of knowing."Ah, truly? How odd," he said then, in regards to the Archipelago. "Republic ships never patrol that area, and there are numerous communities that have sprung up on some of the planets. Malata, for example, is ironing out the details for a planetary government. It's actually rather heartwarming, to see these colonists working so hard to make everything so right." He shrugged."I just thought you might like to know, however, there are some rather valuable resources there, on each planet. Gold, Silver, Electrum and Cortosis...all kinds of important resources. I'm fairly certain that you could go there and set up a few trade enterprises with local governments, and they could likely help to swell you ranks as well. Hard workers, they are." On a sudden whim, he looked down to the panelling in the office, interestedly."Is that wroshyr wood, from Kashyyk?" he asked, sounding almost incredulous. "If so, how in the Core did you get it?"

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i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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IC (Lott Dod, Day One, NPC)Suddenly everything made sense. Lott Dod's estimation of this being went up by a few notches, as informants went this fellow was one of the best he had seen. "How horrible. I had no idea that the situation had gotten so out of hand." He shook his head. "Such a shame. The Huk have overextended themselves here I think. If what you say is true...why, the senate might be forced to act." At the mention of the colonies, Dod revised his opinion of this being yet again. It appeared he was here as both an informant and a diplomat. "Hm. Truly? A viable planetary government would be a bastion of much needed stability. As senator of this Republic, I would be remiss in my duty if I did not draft a bill lifting the ban on that sector of space. These noble souls deserve all the support the Republic can muster."Then Dod smiled. "It's cloned I'm afraid. The real material is very difficult to get. Thankfully, the same is not true of it's genetic code."

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC-Jaron:"Ah, that brings me to another point," Jaron said. "I know that you are aware-likely more aware-of the rise in Wroshyr wood prices as of late, though I'm not sure why. Possibly a disease with the trees, I'm not sure. Until they get this problem eradicated, there is a completely seperate group of various sub-species of the Wroshyr tree growing on multiple planets in the Archipelago." He smiled, admiring the cloned wood."Denser grained than most of what you get from Kashyyyk, but it absorbs stain much better. You can really bring character out of it. And, since it is growing on more planets that Kashyyyk and Alaris Prime, there is more stock. And the things grow fast, too, probably an old Rakatan terraforming setup." He grinned."No matter how far down you cut it, leave the roots and stump in, and the tree will grow itself back to its original height in about one-hundred and fifty years, tops. I have that from some of the studies that Republic Scientists made a while back." He seemed about ready to say more, but stopped himself with a quick laugh."Silly me, silly me...I've got a sample here!" he said, reaching into the satchel he normally kept on him, and pulling out a small sample of Wroshyr wood panelling from the Archipelago, showing all the qualities he'd mentioned, besides growth."Now, were you to get the ban lifted, the Trade Federation could begin to start a good trade on this. It would benefit the Archipelago greatly, through profit and tourism, likely, helping to jump start the development of the various planetary governments. As well, it would bring profit for the Trade Federation-that money could be applied to help fix the problem with Kashyyyk and Alaris Prime's woods, to help bring production of Wroshyr products to an all-time high-something that would greatly benefit just about everybody in the galaxy!" He seemed almost breathless with excitement at the thought."With those profits, you could allocate some of it to help find a diplomatic solution to the Kalee-Huk threat, making that area of space safe again, as well as consolidating holdings elsewhere. As well, think about the advances in technology that could be made...so many boons for this." His eyes darkened slightly, after that, his tone lowering somewhat."One problem, though."

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i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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OOC:: Preapproved by basilisk. Name: Rorl YothaSpecies: HumanGender: MaleHome Planet: CoruscantOccupation: Gun for hire. Risk has to equal reward. Trade federation has a discount.Or, at least, that's what's public. In reality, Rorl is the private bounty hunter for the trade federation, taking jobs from others to avoid suspicion. He is completely off the books. As far as most of the galaxy goes, he doesn't exist.Abilities: Quite possibly in the top 1000 marksmen in the galaxy. Experienced combat leader. Trained hand to hand combatant.Force abilities: A bit force sensitive, it manifests itself as a 3 second danger sense (he can feel an attack coming, but not from where) and small telekinetic abilities (like Luke in the ice cave).Equipment: Fusion cutter, Mandalorian armor, datapad.Weapons: Rapid fire blaster rifle, vibrosword.Appearance: Rorl is about 6'7", muscular, and an imposing figure by anyone's standards. His grey eyes speak of intelligence, his grim expression of death. His short brown crew cut says he's a man who gets the job done.Personality: As stated above, Rorl is grim, but under the proper circumstances his humor shows through. If he had one virtue it would be dedication.History: Rorl grew up the slums of Coruscant, when he got old enough his size let him accept jobs from gangs to put food on the table. A passing rogue Jedi was endeared to Rorl's loyalty and offered to train him (and "protect" him from the council), though Rorl wasn't force sensitive enough to do much in the way of that. His master was ambushed and killed by a street gang, and Rorl took a job at the trade federation as a security guard. After saving a higher up from an attempt on his life and chasing the assassin across half of coruscant, a bamboozled Rorl was fired. A week later some thugs chased him into an alleyway, where a TF rep was waiting to offer him an off the books job, to deal with situations no one needed to know about.IC: (Day One) Rorl walked down the hall toward Dod's office. There was a team assembling for a mission into Kalee space, and Rorl was to lead it.

No such thing as destiny.

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IC (Lott Dod, NPC, Day One)It was a heady vision, Dod would admit that much. Due to his experience in the senate however, he had come to embrace an old adage; if something seemed to good to be true, it probably was. If what this being was saying was the truth, the Federation would profit greatly from it. If he was merely here to con the Federation out of some credits...well, that would be made apparent soon enough. Dod was content to listen to what he had to say for now and then check up on it through some... unofficial channels..the Federation might have obeyed the Republic's laws but there were so many beings out that did not and so many bank errors happened every day, why is was downright likely one of these criminals would take a stroll in that region and suddenly an error would transfer a few credits to their account. When he spoke, his voice was calm and level. "There always is in my experience Mr...? I do not believe I got your name."

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC: Kruvuurn Tchuul [shop, Lower Levels, Coruscant; Day One]The Sauvax sighed, or atleast his approximation of one, and set down the power core on his desk. Living among humanoid species for so long, Kruvuurn found himself taking on some of their mannerisms. Sighing be one. Still, despite the hyperdrive upgrade, it had been a fairly uneventful day. There was no need to repair the Frontier, as the massive salvage ship was in as good as condition as it could get, most of the customer's requests had been taken care of by other mechanics, and all Kruvuurn had left to do was to study the power core.While it might have been an intesting idea earilier, the shelled being found it to be quite boring now. It was nothing more then a half-rusted chord matrix that he'd seen in hundreds of other devices. Tapping a claw against the durasteel desk, the mechanic absent mindedly twirrled around a pocket-sized fusion cutter in his more dexterous fingers. Sure, it was quite a satisfying life most of the time, but just like anything else, it had its ups and downs.Unfortunately, Kruvuurn seemed to be on the down, now. Something he didn't quite enjoy. Well, he could aways get out, go explore the city a bit. Kruvuurn smiled as the younger him inside surfaced for a second, the thrill of adventure filling his mind for a second. Only a second. The Sauvax didn't go "out" much, on the account that even in a city that had seen lifeforms more varied then one could imagine, beings still tended to avoid the crustaceal being from his appearance alone.But still, that didn't really matter, did it? Deciding that he should probably get out, atleast for a bit, Kruvuurn pushed himeslf up from his desk on his six pointed legs and made for the door. Pulling a casual enough jacket over his dirty work shirt, Kruvuurn stepped out the door, his claw waving over the locking mechanism's sensor as he did so. In this part of town, it never hurt to be careful, which is why he had an extra blaster in the shop at all times.Satisfied that no one would be able to get in to steal... Well, there wasn't anything of value in the shop right now, so it didn't matter much. Still satisfied, Kruvuurn hailed a speeder taxi, and was soon shooting off in the air towards the upper levels.

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IC-Jaron:"Unskii. Jaron Unskii," the man replied. "There is an issue with some paramilitary forces. More cohesive than pirates, with weapons worthy of bounty hunters, but not quite as good as a full-blown army. Terrorists, one may say." He shrugged."They've been roaming the Archipelago for a while now, hindering the local governments, pressuring them to work for them. You'll either have to assimilate or remove them for this to work. But, ah...you remember the Stark War, don't you? I think they might be lead by beings of a similar caliber. They won't give up easily."

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i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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OOC: A note, this is an excellent example of a player created plot line. Kal here has created an interesting new setting for the RP and has given those of us who long for battle another front to fight on if things go a certain way.By all means, if you think you have an interesting plot idea, shoot me or Koth a PM.IC (Lott Dod, NPC, Day One)"Hm. If the ban is lifted we will be forced to act against these marauders. Their actions are outrageous....and I think you will find that our recent military expansion has left the Federation in excellent condition in regards to it's armed forces. The fact that these vagabonds have been allowed to operate unopposed is a damning condemnation of the senate. The Federation will, I have no doubt, throw it's weight behind this bill. Then we will act." Provided any of this was true, Dod still had some doubts on that front.

Edited by Basilisk

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC-Jaron:"Very good, very good," Jaron said, though he cocked his head slightly, a questioning expression upon his face. A moment later and he smiled, almost laughing."Ah...you seem unsure that I speak the truth," he said after a moment. "I can assure you I do. After all, I'm one of these colonists, you might say. My residence is on Tulpaa, and I've had trouble from these beings before. One may say I'm in this as much for myself as I am for my c0mpatriots in the other systems." He shrugged."Know that if you help us, I will be sure to negotiate terms not only for the Trade Federation to buy the harvested goods at a great discount, but also to, for a...low-cost, bi-yearly rent, I think would do, harvest the goods themselves, if the planets' governments will be up to it. I trust this is equitable?"

Edited by Kal Grochi

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i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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OOC: I'm going to give the fugie a wee bit of out-of-game time to travel while I think up the noodle implements for the story behind his very first bounty. In the meantime, this fellow needs to be ready and waiting for the beginning of interesting times on Kalee. Well, interesting in-game times.

Name: Kubla ibn MosarSpecies: KaleeshGender: MaleHome Planet: KaleeOccupation: Prior to the outbreak of the Huk War, Kubla ibn Mosar was a farmer and a hunter, living off of what he could get for himself. Once the war started, he joined up with the resistance force led by Qymaen jai Sheelal, serving as a soldier under the soon-to-be legendary general.Abilities: He is a decent shot with a Czerka Outland rifle, and has some fair experience using traditional melee weapons, in addition to a finely-honed skill at tracking animals in the forests of Kalee and an intimate knowledge of the wildlife and terrain of the temperate regions of his homeworld.Force Abilities: N/AEquipment/Tools: As is traditional, Kubla ibn Mosar wears the skull of one of the large predators of Kalee’s temperate forests as a helmet [an actual drawing of this skull-helm will come later. For now just think of it as looking rather like the helmets worn by the Sycorax on Doctor Who. Not quite, mind, as it looks like an actual skull instead of having vertebrae or whatever sticking up in the middle, but the basic idea is similar.]Weapons: Kubla wields one of the Czerka Outland rifles that have become fairly common on Kalee and carries one Lig sword for when hand-to-hand combat becomes necessary. He also carries a Shoni spear strapped across his back, for when he needs a weapon with greater reach and thrusting power than the sword.Appearance: [These drawings give a good idea of what his face looks like]. For the coloration of the skin and eyes, this image from the wiki is a good starting point, and his hair is black. As far as his clothing goes, I imagine it being fairly similar to that shown in this picture of Qymaen jai Sheelal, with the exception of the mask/helmet, which will be elaborated on in a later drawing. The coloration for Kubla ibn Mosar’s clothing is probably a bit greener, though.Personality: As might be expected from a volunteer in the Huk War, Kubla ibn Mosar is young, angry, and impulsive. He often acts before he thinks, and doesn’t always consider the consequences of his actions beyond the obvious.History: Kubla ibn Mosar was born into one of the smaller equatorial tribes, and was taught very early on how to hunt, how to farm, and how to fight. When the Huk invaded Kalee, his tribe was one of those that escaped being captured and enslaved by the insectoid invaders, and those that could fight back did so, striking from the shadows where they could, harassing the invaders in lightning-quick guerrilla raids, while the rest of the tribe went into hiding deep in the wilderness.When word came that an organized resistance was being put together [scratch this if that hasn’t happened yet], the small guerrilla force that the warriors of Kubla’s tribe had become joined enthusiastically in the fight against the Huk.

We will remember - Skies may fade and stars may wane; we won't forget


And your light shines bright - yes so much brighter shine on


We will remember - Until the skies will fall we won't forget


We will remember


We all shall follow doom

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IC: While the figure who'd arrived with her went through to Dod's office, Djashell chose to wait in the antechamber the droids had led her to. She was slightly irritated at being undercut like that, but didn't let it show. Possibly he had been a diplomat, which probably took priority over bounty hunters. As she waited to be given an audience she gave a cursory but not impolite nod to Roma, the only other living figure in the room

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10101010Name: Obaryun LirrilSpecies: ZeltronGender: MaleHome Planet: ZeltrosPlanet of Residence: NabooOccupation: Medium Income Freelance ArtistAbilities: As a Zeltron, Obaryun produces potent pheromones that enhanced his attractiveness and likeability ... somehow, along with a limited telepathic ability that allowed him to project and read emotions. As well as these racial abilities, Obaryun is a decent fighter, and is a rather skilled artist. His Zeltron heritage also means that he has two livers, making him more tolerant of alcohol.Force Abilities: N/AEquipment/Tools: Although he prefers to keep away from fighting, Obaryun still wears a protective vest under his choice of clothing for the day to protect himself from whatever random person that decided to attack him. It also helps keep him more safe when he uses the landscapes of more hostile planets as inspiration for his art, in case he accidentally enrages the native animals. He carries along a large and rather resistant satchel at all times, which he uses to carry his paintbrushes and other tools.Weapons: During a visit to Adumari, Obaryun managed to obtain an Adumari Blastsword, which he keeps as his primary weapon whenever he needs to fight.Appearance: Being a Zeltron, Obaryun is of excellent fitness, with a lean body, which he keeps in shape with regular exercise each morning. He stands at around a metre and eighty centimetres, the average height of most in his species. His skin is a rather dull pink colour, rather similar to the skin pigment of light-skinned humans, and can be easily mistaken for one from a distance. This contrasts with his dark green eyes, as well as his chocolate-brown hair. On his days off, Obaryun usually wears a pink jumper over a yellow shirt, along with white trousers and black and grey sneakers, while on the days he travels, he wears a hot pink jacket, a red shirt, brown trousers and dark boots.Personality: For a Zeltron, Obaryun is surprisingly relaxed, not really bothering with the wild partying and flirting the rest of his species partakes in. This however, does not mean that he shuns the actions of his fellows. In fact, he enjoys the parties of his race, but prefers to take it more slowly than most. He does regularly flirt, but on a smaller scale, finding the smaller things to yield more satisfaction and happiness. He is a rather empathetic being, and treats everyone with respect, unless they've wronged the people he loves.History: Obaryun's parents were known to be rather adventurous Zeltrons, a trait that they passed down to him. His earliest memories were of escaping his house on Zeltros to break into his neighbour's party in a flight of curiosity, an event that left a considerable impact on him, having given him the belief that exploration could lead to greater satisfaction.It was during his teenage years when he visited one of Zeltros' many art museums, where he also learnt of his affinity to art. To him, it was as if he had obtained enlightenment, and began to draw regularly about every subject possible, no matter if it was the beautiful girl down the road or his kitchen exploding due to a mishap involving his father, two cups of water and a substance the humans called 'Panadol'. Yet he would not abandon his love for exploration either, and began to combine his two hobbies, going out to use the scenery of the planet as inspiration.Upon becoming a man, Obaryun announced to his friends and family his intention to explore the galaxy and spread his art across the known universe. Although they were sad to see him leave, they supported his decision, and ended up planning a rather large going-away party that lead to him getting drunk and waking up twenty-eight hours later with a massive hangover.During his travels, Obaryun visited many planets, including Adumar. Along the way he managed to acquire a Curich-class shuttle, reducing his need to hop on random freighters to ferry him to and fro across the galaxy.He ended up settling down on Naboo after a while, and spends most of his time there unless he wishes to travel to other planets in search of random things.Name: UnioneModel: Curich-class shuttleFunction: TransportationWeapons: 1x Turreted Heavy Blaster CannonModifications: Other than reducing cargo space in order to add some new rooms to the shuttle, Obaryun did not make too many modifications, with the standard shielding and Class 2 hyperdrive completely untouched.History: During one of his misadventures around the galaxy, Obaryun came to the conclusion that paying random people to transport him on his many explorations of the galaxy's many worlds would be rather expensive, seeing that he travelled frequently. This lead to his decision to find a decent enough shuttle - one that he could afford with all the money he managed to save up. It was rather fortunate that he managed to stumble across the somewhat used Curich-class, which he found to be perfect for his needs.His prediction was correct, as the ship managed to survive with him through all his adventures around the galaxy, very rarely ever failing. He found it to be very useful, and it is a constant companion in his travels.

Edited by Ordinary Magician
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IC(Tokar, Nar Shadaa, Day 1)Fear. Pain. Confusion.Those words summed up the majority of Tokar's last twenty-four hours. The events were a blur... He closed his eyes, struggling to make sense of them.He started with the kidnapping. Garok's Gossam "friend" had captured the two of them, and they could feel his intent- he wished to sell them to a monstrous creature, a speaking blob with a long tail and wide face. As if they were merchandise.He remembered the ship, the cramped hold they were in for weeks, mind-speaking, trying to make any sort of plan. All they had was Garok's knife, which he'd been able to hide. It would have to do.One day, the ship finally landed, and the doors opened. Tokar and his brother hung from the ceiling, waiting. They heard voices angrily yelling in a tongue they didn't understand, followed by the Gossam rushing into the hold, searching for his prisoners.Garok's knife flew straight, and lodged in the being's gut. They dropped from the ceiling, raising their main arms as spheres of condensed air shot from them, knocking back the armed beings behind them. Garok's knife flew back to his fourth hand while his second wrapped around one of the dropped weapons. He squeezed it, and brilliant light came forth, striking one of the soldiers in his chest. Only a smoking hole remained.The others fired back though, light streaking towards the blaster-wielding Felucian. Tokar screamed as Garok fell, dragging him behind an outcropping. Garok coughed, a moist sound, and extended his weapons to Tokar with what strength he had left.Run, he said, his voice trailing off as he went still. Tokar's body began to shake in pain and rage as he held his brother's corpse, but he heard the voices getting closer. He looked for an escape, but saw only the edge of the platform, empty space stretching far below. As the voices reached him, he threw himself over, and began to fall.As he fell, he swung his third and fourth arms up, grabbing onto an exposed pipe. He then stuck his suction cups onto the bottom of the platform, and began to move, slowly at first, but then more confidently. He had no time to feel, no time to hurt, only to get away.When he had climbed for a few minutes he reached a small outcropping that he climbed into. He could see the city of Nar Shadaa around him, one of the strangest sights he'd ever seen. So different from the jungles of his world. He sighed, feeling all of the emotions hit him at once. Longing for home, unbearable sadness at Garok's death, and a complete uncertainty about the future.And that brought him back to the present. In his outcropping, Tokar shook- both because of his situation and because he felt the temperature dropping. He looked up, and climbed one of the tall metal trees that made up this world. He reached a section which was transparent- strange, he thought. Inside, he could see carpets, furniture- ah. That explained it. These aliens made their homes in these trees. Unlike the others he could see, no light came from this one. He supposed that meant that no one occupied this tree-home. He used the knife and cut a hole in the transparent material, which felt more like stone. He removed it using his suction cups, and dropped it into the chasm behind him. Then he squeezed his way through the small hole, his rubbery body helping that, and curled up on the ground. It was much warmer here. He closed his eyes, but could only see one thing- Garok's death played out, again and again. Not wishing for that, he kept his eyes open until they finally slammed shut and he drifted into a fitful sleep.OOC: Hey guys, sorry I'm late. Here's my profiles, if anyone would like to meet up with a character it'd be great. :)Hmm... My original idea called for the Selkath to be a medic. I'm conflicted. :PAnyway, my Felucian:Name: TokarSpecies: Jungle FelucianGender: MaleHome Planet: FeluciaOccupation: Currently escaped slaveAbilities: Thanks to his heritage, he's a great climber, naturally force-sensitive, amphibious, very agile, and resilient, as well as having four arms. He speak broken Basic in addition to his native tongue. Force Abilities: Force-sensitive, Adept level.Equipment/Tools: Nothing special.Weapons: His brother's knife, which has a simple metal blade and a curved wooden handle, as well as a blaster pistol with half a charge left.Appearance: http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20071008050853/starwars/images/1/13/Felucian_concept_art.jpgPersonality: Having never left his world until now, he's incredibly naive about the galaxy at large. He's fairly trusting, but also a little fearful due to his last few weeks having been fairly bad, to put it mildly.History: Tokar was a young Felucian warrior, the second son of his family. His older brother, Garok, was always much more adventurous than him, straying further and further from their village. At some point, Garok made contact with a Gossam, a member of a species which was colonizing Felucia. The Gossam befriended him, and Garok began to spend more and more time out of the forest at the Gossam's estate. Garok learned much about the galaxy from his new friend, as well as how to speak Basic. In return, he taught the Gossam about Felucia.On one of these trips, three weeks ago, Tokar accompanied his brother. The Gossam had made contact with a Hutt from Nar Shadaa, who was willing to pay a million credits for a live Felucian. When Garok brought his younger sibling, the Gossam saw his chance, and captured the two, believing the Hutt would pay more for two specimens.On the long journey to Nar Shadaa, Garok began constructing a plan of escape. He had only a knife he had snuck aboard to work with, but he made do. He also began teaching his brother to speak Basic, and Tokar made quick progress.When they arrived at Nar Shadaa, the brothers implemented their plan. The Gossam died in the escape, but the Hutt's thugs shot Garok. As he died he gave his brother the knife, telling him to run.Tokar escaped, but he's now lost in one of the most dangerous places in the galaxy on his first time away from home. All he wants is to return, but such a task won't be easy.Name: Kyto CeyaSpecies: SelkathGender: MaleHome Planet: CoruscantOccupation: Mercenary, income variesAbilities: Skilled tracker and proficient in a variety of weapons and combat. He's a very good soldier, able to keep calm under pressure. Is a natural leader, and can take charge in a situation.Natural abilities include being amphibious, a great swimmer, and poison claws.Force Abilities: N/AEquipment/Tools: His armor can resist a low powered blaster bolt with ease, and protect him well enough from most. Also carries synthflesh and bacta, as well as ammunition. His helmet includes attachments such as a HUD, communication device, and flashlight. He carries other items when needed.Weapons: a vibroblade, a variety of grenades, DL-18 blaster pistol, flèchette launcher, and a DC-17m interchangeable weapons system.Appearance: a humanoid manta ray with blue skin with a pattern similar to sunlight through water on it. Three claws and toes.He usually dresses in his armor, which is smooth and covers his whole body, and durable without being extremely bulky.Personality: Kyto is a cold, calloused individual who many would describe as emotionless. However, this is not true. He does feel- however, he's learned not to show it. The events of his life have left him unable to trust easily, but once he cares for someone, he'll defend them with his life.History: Kyto was born on Coruscant to Selkath parents- an extremely rare sight. Ever since the discovery of bacta and the drying up of the kolto market, Manaan has been cut off from the galaxy, and many of the native Selkath have lost their civilizations.However, those Selkath that had emigrated from Manaan formed small communities on worlds such as Coruscant. Lately, though, those communities have begun to dry up, so much that, for most people, meeting a Selkath is a once-in-a-lifetime experience.While it could be said that Kyto's parents were in love, the truth was that they had no other options, having their parents as the only Selkath they'd met. They had twin sons, Kyto and Jota, and the two grew up on Coruscant.When the boys were ten years of age, their father crossed a gang leader, a mistake he and his wife wouldn't live to regret. Kyto still doesn't know all the specifics, but he knows that he and his brother were set to be sold. Jota was purchased and freed by a human doctor in need of an apprentice, who knew of the Selkath aptitude for medicine but was unable to pay for both.Instead, Kyto began to work for a Hutt named Batto. Soon after he arrived came another slave, an Ebranite named Cath Reh'terr. Batto found the six-armed being interesting, as well as a strong laborer, and put him to work with Kyto. Kyto began to teach Cath to speak Basic, and the two soon became good friends. At night, alone in their quarters they would whisper thoughts of escape, and what they would do in the world outside.One day, Batto got very drunk, and decided he didn't like the way Cath's legs were shaped. He had them removed, with no anesthesia, then replaced with cybernetics designed for a human, not an Ebranite. While at some point Cath was able to learn to walk again and got used to his new legs, Kyto never got over the complete injustice of the situation. He promised Cath they'd find a way to break out, and they did, a few months later. Cath had been set to accompany a Nikto guard on his rounds, as his partner was ill, and was given a blaster pistol set on stun. As they passed the kitchen where Kyto was, the Ebranite dragged the Nikto out of sight and broke his neck, hiding the body in a space in the wall. In all the mealtime confusion, Kyto was able to slip out of the kitchen and meet him. At the door of the Hutt's palace, Cath stunned the two guards, who had their weapons taken while the two slaves escaped.That was the beginning of their partnership. Kyto and Cath began looting parked speeders, jumping lone passerby in Coruscants underbelly, and generally doing what they could to survive. A warrior by birth, Cath taught Kyto how to kill, and was surprised at how quickly the Selkath picked it up. Soon enough, they had become known mercenaries in the area, and were often hired to track down those that missed payments, collect a price on someone's head, or provide security for someone who had reason to need it.These jobs provided both training and money. Any extra cash was spent on new gear or as payment for a Mandalorian who frequented a nearby cantina, who would train the two in marksmanship, hand to hand combat, and other martial disciplines.With the outbreak of the Huk war, Kyto has decided to leave Coruscant behind, and Cath has decided to come along. They've come into possession of armor based off that worn by Mandalorians, as well as they best weapons they can afford. They're currently en route to Kaleesh, having already contracted a job as mercenaries. Though killing has been done, neither has yet seen true war.However, that's soon to change.Name: Jota CeyaSpecies: SelkathGender: maleHome Planet: Coruscant, spent most of his life on AlderaanOccupation: Ship doctor/medic, and occasional cook. Fairly unsteady income.Abilities: Well versed in the physiology of most humanoid races, in addition to other like Hutts and Wookiees. In addition to having great skill as a healer, this also means he can easily think of a dozen ways to kill you off the top of his head.As a Selkath, he's fully amphibious, a fantastic swimmer, and has rarely used poison claws.Force Abilities: N/AEquipment/Tools: Always carries around medical supplies, including synthflesh and bacta, along with a few surgical tools. Has a pair of goggles which include telescopic, infrared, and x-ray vision, usually used in his medical work.Weapons: Usually has at least one blaster pistol.Appearance: Like the average Selkath, a humanoid ray of sorts. His skin is a greenish brown with a pattern mimicking ocean waves. Three fingers and toes.Personality: In contrast to his long-lost brother, Jota is a trusting, kind soul, who can't abide suffering. He understands the necessity of killing at times, but prefers to let others do it, while he works to heal. He treats his shipmates like family, as they're the closest thing to one he's ever known, and he knows them all very well.History: Like his brother, Jota was born on Coruscant to a rare Selkath family, with the same upbringing. However, when their parents were killed and the twins were enslaved, Jota's path took a different course. A human doctor found the two, and, knowing that their race had an aptitude for medicine as well as needing an apprentice, he determined to see what he could do. Unfortunately, rarity increases price, and so he could only afford one. He chose Jota, and took the boy with him when he left the planet later to live on Alderaan.There, Jota learned medicine, discovering he had a gift for it. Once the doctor had taught him everything he knew, the Selkath went to school to learn more. He learned to treat a multitude of diseases found throughout the galaxy, the physiology of various alien races, and how to treat injuries. He later returned to help run the shop, and joined the doctor as a full partner. A few years ago, the doctor died of natural causes, and Jota took ownership of the clinic.Running a successful clinic on a peaceful planet kept Jota busy for a time, but he never forgot the traumatic events of his childhood, and determined that one day he would find his brother. He returned to Coruscant a few months later, but every lead he followed on a Selkath turned out to be false. Defeated, he returned to Alderaan, but couldn't put his heart into the work, and very soon decided it was time for a change. He closed up shop, sold the business, and bought a one way ticket to the outer rim.There he was exposed to the true nature of the galaxy for the first time since childhood, and he saw it for what it was- a hole of decay and corruption. He advertised as a medic on an out of the way world, on a living which before he would have laughed at as pitiful, but was enough to satisfy his needs. However, after a few more months he was approached by a mercenary named Sava Heivson, who found herself in need of a medic. Knowing that a traveling job would help him find Kyto much more easily, he accepted, moving into her ship. While he enjoys Sava's company and having a stable career, he constantly frets over her health and the jobs she takes, acting as the worrisome mother of the pair. At every port they stop at, he keeps an eye out for another Selkath, knowing that Kyto could be anywhere.Name: Yavar MerrinSpecies: AnomidGender: MaleHome Planet: Has lived on Nar Shadaa for the majority of his adult life.Occupation: Worked as a merchant of weapons and droids, until receiving his inheritance. Currently a small-time crime boss, with a few local gangs reporting to him, is looking for a pirate crew. Has a fairly steady high income- not enough for a hutt-like palace, but considered rich by galactic standards.Abilities: Fluent in several languages, including Anomid sign language, Covallan, Basic, Duro, Huttese, and conversational in Shyriiwook.Force Abilities: N/AEquipment/Tools: His vocalizer mask, which allows him to speak, as his race lacks vocal chords. It is very ornately customized, and silver/grey in color.Also carries a data pad with holonet access.Weapons: Carries a DL-18 blaster pistol, up to four thermal detonators, and a vibroblade. May carry other items upon need.His most unique weapon is custom made- basically, it consists of a gauntlet with an attached repulsorlift. The gauntlet is designed to dissipate the force given off, while the repulsorlift can knock a target back when active, functioning much like a hard force push. He wears this on his left hand.His two Covallan bodyguards are each armed with a vibroblade and an A290 Blaster rifle, along with a blaster pistol and a number of magazines.Appearance: Skin of a light purple, his fin like ears split into two at the end, giving the appearance of four. He has short black hair, kept close to the head, and wears tight fitting clothing, allowing a range of movement. His eyes lack pupil and iris, and are heterochromatic, with one blue and one yellow. Under his mask, his mouth appears similar to a Duros, with slits for nostrils.Personality: Yavar is not an evil man- however, he is cold. While he's not a killer at heart, if he needed someone killed he'd have it done without a second thought. He's a bit naive to the criminal underworld, having started in it only recently. if things start going bad he'll immediately begin thinking of several plans of escape, which may or may not involve you, but allow him to get away. History: Yavar was born on Yablari, home world of his species, the Anomid. However, his father was an enterprising soul who wished to start a cantina on a new world. To that end, he chose Nar Shadaa, the smuggler's moon, for reasons Yavar still struggles to understand. While he did start his cantina, and it was fairly successful, he ignored the crime which was rampant on the moon, an accidentally offended the leader of a Trandoshan gang.They lost the cantina, and Yavar spent his childhood fatherless. He began working for a Sullustan merchant to help his mother pay the bills, and quickly became a favorite employee at the store, which sold ship and droid parts.The childless Sullustan died a few years later, and in his will he left the shop to Yavar. Yavar had learned how the world worked, and while the shop still sold parts for droids and ships, be switched it to a new focus- weapons.He quickly established relations with several of the neighboring gangs, giving them discounts in return for protection. His mother died of an illness around this time, but Yavar didn't slow down. His shop was growing, and be opened another location elsewhere on the planet.A few years later, Merrin Weapons Supply had grown to three locations. Then, two years ago, a very rich uncle of Yavar's mother died, and according to a quirk of the extraordinarily confusing Anomid legal system, Yavar received a large amount of his money.While his great uncle had acquired his money through peaceful, entirely legal purposes, Yavar was cut from a different cloth. He changed apartments, moving into a higher-class one with several defenses and a three inch thick metal door, and hired two Covallon bodyguards- Jæn and Delor vuv Gaatnel. He expanded the company further, becoming fairly important to the weapons-buying sector of Nar Shadaa, with contracts with the Hutts, mercenaries, bounty hunters, and gangs. He allied with some of the local gangs on Nar Shadaa, gaining protection. And finally, Yavar's interests turned criminal. He became a spice dealer, and several of the gangs around him found themselves working for him. He was finally able to take revenge for his father, and had the entire Trandoshan gang massacred.Yavar was becoming a fairly wealthy man- no lord by galactic standards, but he did well for his system- as well as any non-Hutt inhabitant could really do. While he did come in conflict with a few of the Hutts, his alliances with the gangs were firm, and he didn't make any stupid decisions that would make them openly hostile.... Yet.Recently, Yavar has decided its time for his interests to leave the Y'Toub system. The Hutt overlords don't look kindly on outsiders getting in on their turf. However, he's not only looking for a location for a new shop- Yavar is currently in the market for a smuggling ship and crew to hire, to bring him a steady amount of spice as well as a cut of the profits in return for weapons and funding. Yavar has plans to leave the system one day, but to be able to leave safely, easily, and peacefully, he'll need some connections outside of the system, which a smuggling crew would be the first step to getting. One day, perhaps, he'll be able to leave the trash heap that is Nar Shadaa, and perhaps move somewhere nice like Coruscant, but until then he's focused on one thing only- money.Name: Cath Reh'terrSpecies: EbraniteGender: MaleHome Planet: EbraOccupation: MercenaryAbilities: Six arms, very strong, mechanical legs allow him to run around as fast as a human, skilled in combat, marksmanship, and tracking. Possesses infrared vision and can go into a "combat rage" similar to a Wookiee.Force Abilities: N/AEquipment/Tools: His armor, adapted from Mandalorian armor, is similar to Kyto's, except designed for his body. The helmet contains an HUD with a variety of features, while the armor itself is quite durable. His legs and upper left hand are mechanical and armored as well. His mechanical hand has sharp claws and a supply of liquid cable, so can be used as a grappling gun. He also possesses a breathing tube, first aid supplies, and various other supplies when needed.Weapons: Carries six Bryar pistols on his chest, a variety of grenades, two long vibroblades, a blaster rifle inside a thigh compartment, a flamethrower attached to his mechanical hand, and a bow he had made of Durasteel to Ebranite specifications. It requires six hands for use, and fires arrows which can be up to three feet long with enough force to punch through light armor. Though he rarely uses it in combat, he also possesses a supply of arrows with a variety of effects, including remote detonation, thermal, and concussion.Appearance: Stands seven feet fall with a muscular, mostly humanoid build. His legs always appear armored, and are mechanical, in the shape of wide human legs. He's tall, but thickly built, with muscle showing all over his body. He has a bald head with several dark tattoos, as well as another tattoo on his left uppermost shoulder. He has six arms, each with a six-fingered hand possessing two thumbs. His uppermost left hand is mechanical as well, having been lost to a blaster bolt a few years ago. He has no nose and a wide mouth, as well as sunken eyes which tell nothing of his great eyesight.Personality: Cath is not the brightest being in the galaxy, to put things mildly, and still has a lot to figure out about how it works. However, he does know that only the strong survive, and he's taken steps to ensure that he, and his partner Kyto, who is the only other being he trusts, do. He's not above killing, but will not kill without need, except in a combat rage.In a combat rage, Cath loses his higher-thinking skills, becoming a mindless war machine. He can shrug off hits that would fell a man, and deliver extremely powerful attacks. It's basically a super heavy adrenaline rush.History: Cath was born on Ebra to a clan which even he has forgotten the name of. A Trandoshan slaving expedition stopped on the planet to make repairs, and kidnapped several of the primitive natives, knowing they'd have no trouble selling the six-armed oddities. One of the captured was a warrior named Cath Reh'terr.Cath was a skilled hunter and fighter, and this meant he was very strong. After being traded through masters for a few years, he eventually wound up under the ownership of a Coruscanti Hutt named Batto. There he met a young Selkath named Kyto.Kyto and he became friends quickly, forced to work together to survive in the Hutt's palace. They endured many hardships, the greatest of which was the removal of Cath's legs on Batto's drunken whim. Finally, after a few years, during which Cath learned to speak Basic, the two friends took a chance and made their escape, disappearing into the planet wide city.Over the next few years, Cath and Kyto worked together to survive, both criminally and legally. They stole and murdered, worked odd jobs, ran spice for the local gangs- anything to get credits. They learned to use blasted accurately, and soon were known as the team to go to if you needed someone taken care of.An old Mandalorian frequented a nearby cantina, and with any extra credits they could find the two payed him to train them in combat, becoming lethal killing machines, both armed an unarmed. Their teacher also helped them design modified Mandalorian armor, which was collected over several purchases. The two were rising through the ranks, becoming skilled mercenaries.Of course, notoriety comes with its bad points as well, and the two were always in danger. With the outbreak of the Huk wars, and the Kalee government in desperate need of assistance, Cath and Kyto, like many others, have signed on as mercenaries. Though they've never faced true war, they are hardened and battle-tested, and make one of the most lethal tag-teams in the galaxy.At least, that's what they're hoping.

Well, would you just look at that?

 

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I'm a piece of toast.

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OOC: Approved by Basilisk and slightly edited (just grammatical edits :P) 10101010.Name: Deltus VongRace: HumanGender: MaleHome Planet: MandaloreOccupation: Bounty Hunter, a part time mechanic and every now and then is capable of selling his inventions as a result he has medium level of income but spends most of money on equipment.Abilities: Deltus is man of great intelligence who has seen much in his life time as a veteran of many minor wars across the galaxy. As a result he has gained skills from across the galaxy including being able to speak many languages including Mando'a, Galactic Basic, Twi'leki and Rodese to name a few. His war faring days and Mandalorian training have also left him with extraordinary combat skills in hand to hand combat, infiltration, Marksmen and espionage abilities. However above all his intelligence is his strongest trait as he is a skilled but unlucky inventor and a crack scientist, with his experience being his only credentials.Equipment/Tools: Deltus wears a custom built variation of Mandalorian armor, which is black, grey and beige in color. The armor is built in with many of his wacky inventions such as a cloaker that turns him completely invisible (But consumes most of the suits power, therefore he rarely uses it), flamethrower, retractable claws, rocket boots enabling limited flight, and electromagnetic pads in the soles of the boots for adhesion to certain surfaces. He always hides behind his helmet which is grey with a black face plate with two slits that glow a bluish light the helmet also has two pointy bat like ears that are black in color. He also makes a habit of wearing a tattered beige scarf. He also has a large aresenal of gadgets in his belt.Weapons: Deltus arms himself with two IR-5 blasters. However his preferred method of combat is two wrist mounted blue plasma axes that he personally engineered and made.Appearance: Deltus is a slender, yet fairly muscular, male of average height with a melancholic appearance. He has fairly short, messy raven black hair, pale white skin, and green eyes with small slit-shaped pupils similar to a cat's. Part of his bangs falls between his eyes and he has distinctively thin eyebrows. However he hides behind his helmet and considers it his face.Personality: Vong is a very cold, callous, dispassionate figure, and is rather aloof, brooding, and indifferent; however he shows great respect to everyone due to his philosophy that everyone is equal. This philosophy also spawns his sense of justice in the sense he will refuse jobs that target innocent people and will gladly intervene with criminal activities if it means he can help someone innocent. He also has a soft spot for cute and cuddly stuff. History: Vong was born on Mandalore however like most his father died at a young age so he was raised solely by his mother Ran’tao Vong. As a child he was brought up as an average Mandalorian he received combat training in which he showed great promise and skill, but a large disinterest, as he spent most of his time trying to make a new invention or stating Extra-galactic theories . He never really grew fond of anyone but he loved his mother greatly who implanted in him a strong sense of justice one that Vong would use through his life. However he showed distaste at the galaxy he lived in, often questioning the weakness of its central government and corruption of its police force. Ironically it was this corruption that claimed his mother’s life. Enraged Vong chased down the police squad who did this narrowly avoiding capture. With this he lost all fondness of the Galaxy, and vowed to leave it one day. He eventually became a Bounty Hunter and often found himself fighting in many minor wars across the Galaxy, with each one giving him more and more scars. He eventually settled on Carloc where he lives as a Nomad and on this planet with virtually no inhabitants he avoids things like taxes or noisy neighbours. However he spends most of his time travelling the Galaxy and rarely visits the small planet he calls home, but when he does he's hard at work in his makeshift "lab" trying to create a new wonder of science.Name: ProtheusModel: CloakShape fighter.Function: Transport.Weapons: Two basic laser cannons.Modifications: The ship has a built in cloaker. Invented by yours truly.History: Deltus found the Protheus on Lotho Minor while chasing a bounty there. His previous ship was destroyed by his target. He managed to use his technical prowess and bring the old hunk of junk back to life, and haul his targets dead body back to his employer.

Edited by Vandenreich

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OOC: A note on the cloaking device, I know SW canon says they are rare and hard to make...but it's contradicted itself on that an insane amount of times on that. Just assume that they are very very expensive unless you can make one. Making them is also expensive incidentally. Since I've let people have some expensive tech to start with before, I've approved Vandrenreich's cloaking device. But please, don't abuse it.It'll make me look bad. Then I would have to-what? Death threats are against the rules? Bah! :PToA: Approved.IC (Lott Dod, Day One, NPC)Lott Dod shrugged, the gesture enhanced somewhat by his flowing robes. "Trust but verify. I work in the senate...you soon learn to stop implicitly trusting every random stranger with an offer that seem quite good. If what you say is true, the Federation will act. If it is not...well, you've violated several laws and the Federation does have the authority to seek out those who harm it." Lott Dod smiled again. "Not a threat incidentally. Just informing you of the consequences of attempting to scam the Federation. Regardless, the senate meets in two days. I will begin to draft the bill and gather support then. The bill will stand a better chance of passing if the Trade Federation is not the only one behind it at the start."

Edited by Basilisk

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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Name: Kol OrrenSpecies: HumanGender (if applicable): MaleHome Planet: CorelliaOccupation (with an estimation of income, high, low etc): Freighter pilot, willing to carry any cargo for a sturdy enough check. Lower middle income.Abilities: Kol is a smooth talker, skilled duelist with both sword and blaster, and an able medic, having patched himself up in the field quite a few times.Force Sensitive: Slightly, able to subconsciously calculate probabilities of the events different choices may lad to.Equipment/Tools: Vibroknives for close combat, first aid kit and painkillers in case of injury while away from his ship.Weapons: Kol uses a DL-44 blaster pistol in a firefight, and though he's good with the weapon, he much prefers the feel of his custom vibrosword in his hand. He wields the weapon with the utmost proficiency, and his movements with the weapon while in a fight are almost an art form.Appearance: Kol is a handsome man, marked by his dark brown eyes and hair, which is short and pushed back so that the tips of what would otherwise be bangs hover precariously over his forehead. He's approximately 6'1" in height with a lean, slender build.Personality: Kol is, in a word, cheeky. He can go from cheerful, polite, and the perfect gentlemen to smug, unreasonable, and dangerous when just the right buttons are pushed. Despite this glaring bipolarity, he's one of the best at what he does, and he's always down for cruising space aimlessly between work.History: Kol, from a young age, wanted nothing more than to spend his life in space. Corellia's skies are beautiful and unpolluted, so every night, before he went to sleep, he could look out his window and stare, awed, at the midnight sky, freckled with stars and begging to be explored. When he came of age, he instantly pulled together all the money his family had accumulated for his college spending, plus the credits he'd been working at various jobs, and bought himself an old XS stock light freighter, almost ready for the museum and barely able to run. Over the course of his new career, Kol accumulated the credits to heavily modify the ship, bringing it up to modern standards, even throwing in a couple shadily gained experimental technologies as he did.Name: The Southern CharmModel: XS stockFunction: FreighterWeapons: The old, archaic weaponry of the XS stock has been replaced on the Charm, replaced by two 360 degree swiveling blaster cannons. The ship is also equipped with built in EMP launchers, able to leech away the power from enemy ships to try and even the odds a bit.Modifications: The Charm's old hyperdrive and systems have been overhauled, replaced by twin turbines powered solely by kinetic energy. This highly experimental energy recycling technology leaves the ship capable of traveling solely under its own power and gives it a speed boost that often comes in crucial. It also possesses an aural shield instead of a regular shield generator, which allows it to gradually absorb a portion of the energy around it - even from hostile fire - and leech it into the Charm's systems.History: By the time Kol Orren came across the Southern Charm, it was a ship best left to the history books. The vessel had been around since the Cold War, three thousand years prior, and had been passed along since then by various owners, all of whom kept the ship in barely working condition in case they wanted to show it off to other vintage starship nuts. Kol, however, saw potential in the ship and took it on as his own for his career as a freighter, gradually modifying the ship until it could compete seriously with the best freighters in the galaxy. To this day, he treats the ship like a brother, and won't risk it on any stupid gambles or last stands.IC: Kol (Coruscant, Day One)His meal complete, Kol ventured out of the Charm's dining area and towards the hatch of the ship itself, sliding out as though it were a part of a child's playground and touching down on one of the many, many platforms that made up Coruscant's skyline.Well, maybe skyline wasn't the right word; there was very little sky on Coruscant, just skyscraper additions that hadn't been tacked on yet. Nevertheless, Kol found the hustle and bustle of the place soothing. The hectic life of a freighter didn't leave a lot of room for downtime, and even though Kol loved downtime, he still found having too much of it...disconcerting.OOC: Open for interaction.-Teezy

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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OOC: While this is mostly just a technicality, I would like to remind everyone that the DC-series of blasters DO NOT YET EXIST at this point in time.They were made for the Grand Army shortly before and during the Clone Wars, so you won't be seeing them until around then, and even if you do it doesn't necessarily mean you'll have one.

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OOC: *Facepalm*Thank you Koth. I need to run searches on this beforehand. I thought those were Jango's blasters. If it isn't to much trouble Vanden-could you select a blaster that exists right now?....I need to save face now....uh, random execution!*Throws someone into a shark pit*Fear and respect me! :P

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC: Kol (Coruscant, Day One)"Errr...wasn't planning on it, but I could make arrangements," the freighter admitted, turning to look at the newcomer; he was massive, towering above Kol by at least half a foot, and something about his face made him think that if he tried to make a joke, he'd have every tooth extracted from his mouth in the time it took to jump to hyperspace. "Why do you ask?"-Teezy

Edited by Tyler Durden

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC: Vong (Coruscant, Day One)Vong had recently come to Coruscant for a possible job, however he refused it, there was no way he was going to try and kill a Jedi no matter how much credits he got. But he was low on income and he needed some badly if he wanted to even start trying to build his self designed XC-213 Gatling gun. However as luck would have it a certain element of life presented him another means of income."Going by Tatooine anytime soon?"That was where he'd get a job Tatooine, a hive of scum and villians not to mention alot of sand. However he had hitched a ride to Coruscant leaving his ship on Tatooine. He noticed the Freighter there I could get on the way toTaatooine there.He walked over to Kol right past Rorl "You heading to Tatooine?" He asked in a silent voice.

Edited by Vandenreich

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IC(Corellia, Coronet Spaceport, Day 1):Csarissa paused in the entryway to the hangar, admiring her ship one last time before she started preparations for liftoff. The ship, a Corellian Engineering Corporation HWK-290 was predominantly your typical light grey, but Csarissa had the previously orange-brown markings redone in navy blue and a darker shade of grey.After a few moments, she continued forward, toward the entry ramp near the fore of the craft. Her plan once she was aboard was to run a final check on the hyperdrive, then go ahead with takeoff. She had already gained clearance from the traffic controllers for takeoff withing the next few hours, so she could basically take off at her leisure.

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OOC: 10101010Name: Kon TyrusSpecies: HumanGender MaleHome Planet: Coruscant Occupation : Defense engineer. Kon works on and develops everything from handheld weapons, to new variations of battle droids. He is also one of the people usually sent to showcase his company's technology, and bring in new clients. Medium income.Abilities: Kon is an excellent speaker, and is quite capable of swaying others to see his point of view. His knowledge of weaponry and defense systems has proved useful on more than one occasion on the less savory planets, and he is a good shot with his sidearm.Force Abilities: None Equipment/Tools: Kon carries with him a datapad loaded with information on most weapons, droids or defense systems built within the past decade or so, in case his memory fails him. It is also loaded with standard contracts and other legal documents and offers from his company. He also carries with him a small set of tools, in case he needs to build or repair something away from his workshop. Under his usual clothes he wears a lightweight set of weapon-resistant armor.Weapons: Kon's primary weapon is one of his own design. It is significantly small than most hand held blasters, about the size of a modern pistol. He worked quite a long time to perfect the design. It fires solid metal projectiles with as much accuracy as is possible for a weapon of its size. It is also designed to accept different bullet types, as is evidenced by the single magazine each of less traditional ammunition. Projectiles with a small explosive compound in the tip, and one designed with a harder material for piercing light armor, the kind typically worn by street thugs or low level members of the many criminal organizations. The usual bullets are more then enough to handle most wild animals, or the common street criminal. His total amount of ammunition on the typical day is a magazine each of explosive rounds and armor piercing, and a magazine of standard bullets.Appearance: Kon's appearance is, for the most part, fairly average. He is ever so slightly taller than average, with black hair and blue eyes. He wears black boots fit for the streets of Coruscant, or the less advanced planets. His clothes, a simple white shirt and pants for when he is working or a slightly more expensive set of gray business attire, are all fit so there is as little loose fabric as possible.Personality: Kon tends to fall into the morally gray area, if leaning toward good. He tends to be one of the more quiet individuals in his environment, but he's always watching his surroundings. In this universe, especially in his line of work, one could never be too careful. He won't personally sell to criminal groups, though his company has had a few shady deals in its past, but he has no problem selling arms to one or both sides of a conflict.History: Kon Tyrus was born on Coruscant to a decidedly lower middle class family. His parents were nothing special, or even worthy of note, but they were always supportive of their son's ambitions. Kon expressed interest in weapons and other pieces of military technology at a young age, studying everything he could learn, and dismantling and repairing discarded weapons if he could find them. After a time, he began to try and build his own models from the parts he scavenged. The results ranged from decent, to bad, to explosive.Despite some of his more spectacular failures, he attracted the attention of the company for whom he is currently employed. He rose through the rank to the position he currently has rather quickly, and has proven most effective at his job. He has designed a handful of popular weapons, among his obscure models, and sealed more than a few deals for his employers.

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On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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