Name: Areem Saluron Vikargo
Age: 39
Species: Devaronian
Gender: Male
Appearance: Areem is a fit devaronian with a bright red skin, a sign of good health for his species. What strikes some as odd is that he has white horns instead of the more common black ones, some speculate this is a form of albinism under Devaronians, others think he bleaches them out of vanity. A perpetual grin and laid back attitude define Areem, while charming he might give you the impression that he is in on a joke you don’t understand. There is an uncanny cunning about him that makes most uneasy.

The fact that he is clothed like a pirate does not help either. He often dons a shot up trenchcoat over his shoulders as a sort of trophy, for his further appearance is ‘spotless’. High boots, well-tended pants and shirt with a gilet over it. More menacingly are the vibroblade and blaster pistol on his belt

Equipment:
-A Vibroblade.
-A blaster pistol with a hardwood inlay on the grip and a long chrome barrel.
-A sling with extra ammo, concussion grenades, stim packs and a knife at the back (hearsay).
-A number of things that PC’s wouldn’t know about.

His Quarters:All the way at the back, even behind the Engine diagnostics and the ladder towards the command pod is a room slightly larger than the normal crew rooms. It has its own shower and toilet unit and Areem has placed a lavish desk to be the first thing you see while coming through the door. On it are several oddities, but prime amongst them is a holo-globe that displays the galaxy from a gold inlay stand. The desk is nigh always littered with datapads, holo-discs and smaller but valuable salvage from recent jobs. Aside from that he has a small collection blades and knives on the wall. The reason that the captain’s quarters are tucked away behind the engine room has to do with the previous owner of the Swift Fortune. The Aleena mechanic that overhauled the ship after finding it in an asteroid field. Due to her love for all things mechanical she made her quarters behind the engine room for quick access to that and the Command pod. Ironically enough Areem tends to run the ship from the Sensor bridge at the bow of the ship.

His Spaceship: The Swift Fortune of course. But it is said that one of the cargo modules near his quarters can be launched to release a M3-A Scyk Fighter to make a quick escape in.

History:
Areem keeps his mouth shut about how he acquired the Swift Fortune, let alone his life before being it’s captain. Wild rumours have thus started to spread under the crew in his absence. One tells he was a mercenary that killed the previous captain, the other says he was taken in after his spaceship stranded and organized a mutiny from there, still others tell a tale of abandoning the previous captain in a hairy situation because she couldn’t return in time. A few more circulate under the crew but all come down to double-crossing the previous owner and that is probably for a reason. Previous exploits have taken them to many of the places where the Clone Wars left destruction and thus salvage. Generally Areem tends to choose spots that are ‘controversial’. Places like Scarif; where imperial mob-up was still busy, Taris; where the parts where salvage is to be found are quarantine zones where dangerous Rhakghouls lurk and Raxus Prime; where many other scavenger groups are vying for the best scraps of salvage. Due to that he is known to take on mercenaries and freelance Starfighter pilots to keep his operations safe.
He is unthrustworthy, selfish, cutthroat, smug, confident, charming and cunning all at once and while his motivation seems clear and predictable he is anything but that. People tend to be on edge when he gets out of his chambers, and with good reason.

Name: Dr. Khava Marr
Age: 32

Appearance: Tall for his race, he stands at just under two meters. His sensory appendages hang loosely down his back and over his shoulders. His skin is a dark grey color, and his eyes a deep black. His skin is very well taken care of, as he makes sure to hydrate and maintain a balanced diet. Beyond that, he is an academic, and does little to no exercise - maintaining his thin frame by regulating diet. His major motor skills are underdeveloped, and he is not strong or dexterous. His finer motor skills however are exquisite - and he is a brilliant surgeon with steady hands and excellent breath control. He wears a dark grey lab coat - which is covered with an informal grey cloak - with a hood. He also has a penchant for expensive leather shoes - and wears a pair instead of the more appropriate combat boots

Personality: He is a quiet and focused individual - a behaviour that he has trained to perfection his entire life. In a panic situation, he will rather become very quiet and very cryptic - as he would be trying to think his way out of the situation. This does not mean that there is nothing behind this image. A large part of himself is the hidden, highly aggressive, highly ambitious and highly determined personality traits. They manifest in his day to day activities as snark and sarcasm, cynicism and bouts of mind numbing boredness. This also makes him very controlling of his environment - leading to an almost compulsive level of neatness and refinement - which in turn has made him an excellent surgeon and doctor.

Gender: Male

Race: Nautolan

Force Sensitive: Yes, but it is very, little. He thinks his perception of other people and their intents is just his interpretation of their hormonal systems. In reality, he can - when interacting with other people for a long time - begin to anticipate how they will react and interpret a situation, giving him understanding as to their motivations and actions that will most likely lead from it.

Equipment:

Blood content analyzer
Holocron with the official Universal Xenological record
Surgical tools
A high quality - travel chemisty set
A set of first aid essentials
Universal Music player - with a selection of instrumental and orchestral classical music(whatever that might be in this story)
An encrypted communicator with which he can connect with some of his previous contacts
A set of False documents - which he got as a favor for getting a gangster’s brother off deathsticks and back to full health

Quarters and Living space: He has been offered the Medical Bay within the ship to facilitate his role as Medical Adviser and Practitioner. While the area was never that bad - he quickly got some help in to refurbish it - lining the dark grey walls and floors with clinical reflective white. Then he organised at his own expense, calling in many favors to either steal or bring him the medical equipment he needed(wanted) - While the main area is very much an emergency surgery, the back part of the area is split into private rooms, where he sleeps - in a tank filled with constantly purifying water.

In another, out of the way - locked to all but him and the captain - module he has been building a micro cloning lab - which he has an almost complete set of organs for each kind of person on the ship - supposedly as a precaution - moreso to keep himself busy. The tech is not very advanced - compared to what he usually worked with - but it is more than sufficient. He has been itching to make the lab better - to steal the tech needed to make it even more reliable and comprehensive - but he is afraid of drawing too much attention to himself.

Role on ship: General health oversight and care, Identification of obscure species, cloning of replacement organs for the crew, Staying out of the way of the other loud and dirty people

Obligation: Khava Marr is a medical specialist - who had been employed by the Empire to research hormonal changes within individuals affected with force-Psychosis - and in turn to try and develop antibodies and cloning schematics that would counter this naturally occurring susceptibility. While he developed a few treatments, it became clear very early on to him that this was nearly impossible - and when he began to note this, he could feel the ire of benefactors. Deciding to leave before they decided he was as obsolete as he knew he was quickly becoming - he scoured into the underworld, offering his services as a doctor to the scum of the earth. This level of medicine bores him more than he would ever admit, but he dare not allow his ambition to grow - lest he draw the attention of the empire.

Skills:

Brawn:1
Agility:1
Intellect:4
Cunning:2
Willpower:2
Presence:1

Medicine (int) 4
Perception (cun) 2
Streetwise (cun) 1

Xenology 3

History: Khava Marr was born to a middle class family on Coruscant, and had a very sheltered life - a wonder since his parents were political activists. When they eventually left (taken away for execution) when he was eight years old - he was well on his way to an orphanage - when an official noted his reading, and apparent comprehension of a set of advanced medical holocrons. Always one to milk a potential asset - Khava was moved to his house and an even more sheltered life - made almost entirely of private tutoring. He finished his formal schooling early, and gained his Doctorate in record speeds. His father of sorts - wormed him into a government based research facility where he proved himself -unknowingly- in reducing biological anomalies within the cloning process. Soon he was promoted to higher levels within the facility, and began working with more abstract and complicated forms of science - the first real mental challenge he ever had.

This thrilled him, and he threw himself into the research, until he realised that it was going nowhere. Normally not a problem - but it also became apparent that whatever he was working on now - was far too delicate to simply be covered with a confidentiality clause. While he extended the research for as long as possible - he began to plan his escape. It took him a few months, but eventually - he was gone. Without a trace. Then a body was found - thought to be him, but merely a clone he had brewed in his own home. He was sure it would fool most people… he only hoped he was correct.

Meanwhile he stayed low and quiet, offering his services to the underbelly of the universe he gained the title of The Grey Doctor - a title he loved and feared at the same time. It made him feel roguish, but also put a target on his back. Calling in all his favors - he left the planet easily enough - and set out to other areas, moving between mob bosses and other rogues of the Galaxy - staying far away from the Rebellion and the Empire’s war - and offering his services.

He was directed to his current endeavor by a grateful smuggler - who had fallen in love with one of his malnourished cargo and begged him to get her up on her feet once more - with promises of anything, should he ever call for it. He supposed a longer term contract within a larger group could allow him to hide between them, and make some contacts in the meantime.

Name:Roka Zal'Ebos

Age:26

Species:Balosar

Gender:Male

Force Sensitive:Yes, but untrained. This currently manifests in enhanced abilities related to his genetic ability to read emotion, as well as an enhanced sense of direction both planetside and in space.

Role on the Ship: Roka is an excellent pilot, he is able to handle small and medium sized ships with ease. His personal ship, The Steadfast is among the fastest, most maneuverable, and well-defended civilian ships on the market, which makes him an ideal choice for scavenging runs. Roka is fairly proficient in repairs as well, able to at least patch many issues one might commonly run into.

One ability Roka plays close to his chest is his ability to read people, due to his Balosar heritage and undiscovered Force abilities. This lets Roka sense the emotions of nearby beings, though he is currently using Death Sticks to dull that power, as the graveyard of Alderaan is overwhelming for him.

Appearance:Roka is slightly tall for his race standing at 1.8 meters, not including his antenna. He has dark, curly hair that helps to hide his antenna when he retracts them. He has bright green eyes and a wide smile. Due to having grown up on Corellia and not Balosar, Roka lacks the sallow and sickly complexion most other members of his race have, instead looking much more like a human. Roka has an average build, while he is not a brawler, he also doesn't appear to be scrawny.

As for clothing Roka has a fairly particular taste. He often wears a bandana or a long scarf patterned with geometric shapes or fractals; if wearing the scarf he has both ends thrown behind his back. He wears a loose fitting navy blue vest over a light brown, long sleeved shirt; and has a shoulder holster for a holdout pistol underneath the vest as well. Roka wears dark pants with a lot of pockets along them, allowing for him to carry whatever he feels he might need. He wears black gloves with the fingertips cut out, and a pair of heavy-duty boots with plasteel tips. He also has a belt with two holsters on it.

Personality:Roka is a generally friendly individual. With his species natural abilities to read surface emotions, he can tell pretty quickly if someone can be trusted. If Roka considers you a friend, he'll go out of his way to make sure you're taken care of. While he is friendly and very trusting of his friends, if Roka doesn't trust you he can be very cold. While not physically intimidating, Roka has a patience beyond measure, and if you cross him of his friends, he will spend as much time as he needs to work out how best to take his revenge.

Equipment:One holdout blaster, ten shots.
Two normal blaster pistols.
A set of simple repair tools.
Two dozen Death Sticks, liquid form.

Your Quarters:A Captains bunk on his personal ship, The Steadfast.

Your Spaceship:Roka has a sparkly, new YT-2000 series freighter, a gift/investment from his parents. The ship has been customized to include more cargo space, and better sleeping quarters for crew and passengers. This comes at the expense of some of the weapon systems however, sacrificing the space for the chaff charges and laser canon that would come standard. The shields have also been downgraded as a result. This leaves the freighter with twin quad laser turrets, an ion cannon, and light shielding. The upgraded cargo bay can carry up to 200 tons of cargo, and is currently half-filled with fluid transport bays. The ship has enough room for 4 crew members and 7 passengers, with a total of 11 occupants. It carries food stores to last up to six months. The entertainment on board has been upgraded by Roka as well, with the ships Holo-Net caching any new vids coming through and storing them to the holo-projectors in the quarters, the lounge, and the highly illegal one mounted in the cockpit. The Steadfast is also equipped with a docking clamp to connect to the airlock on The Swift Fortune, as the ship is too big to fit in one of the mothership's standard docking bays. The ship also has two tractor beams one leading directly into the ships solid cargo bay, and one tied to fluid transport pipes to dump into the fluid cargo bays.

Obligation: Death Stick Addiction: Though his species is immune to the life-shortening effects of the drug, Roka Like many of his race, is still extremely addicted to Death Sticks for their hallucinogenic properties. More now than ever, as his Force-Sensetivity combined with the natural ability to feel others emotions are kicking into hyperdrive with echoes of Alderaan's ghosts. (Taking for 1 point in Stage 2)

Family Obligation, Debt: His parents being successful smugglers, and shrewd businesspeople, have provided Roka with a top-of-the-line freighter to go make his fortune with. Provided he pays them back, of course. 15,000 standard credits per year, for ten years, or until he pays off 150,000 credits, whichever comes first. (Taking for 1 point in Stage 2)

Statistics:
Brawn: 2
Agility: 4
Intellect: 4
Cunning: 2
Willpower: 1
Presence: 2

(4 additional points from Obligations and lowering Willpower, 14 total points spent.)

Skills:

Astrogation 1
Computers 1
Mechanics 1
Piloting 3
Ranged Light 1

(10 total points spent)

History:Roka was born on Corellia, just outside of Coronet City. His parents were smugglers by trade, having been drawn to the Corellian system because of the hub of smuggling activity found there. Being originally from Balosar, his parents found an easy in with the smugglers abounding in the system, due to their natural resilience to toxins and their species ability to read emotions. Soon, the pair had set up quite a racket smuggling illicit drugs, sometimes even dipping into weapons as well. This is the life Roka grew up in, surrounded mostly by political intrigue and vague paper trails, instead of shootouts and hyperspace chases. Roka longed for that type of life, chasing the stars and being the lovable rogue type he heard stories of. He even attempted to sneak aboard some ships carrying cargo for his parents though he never made it out of the system before being discovered.

Eventually, upon reaching adulthood, Roka's parents struck a bargain with him. They would provide him a ship and cargo, and he would make a run in their name. That would get his foot in the door. From there, he was to make his own way, finding his own jobs, contacts, and cargo. It was understood that the ship would be a lease and that after paying it off, he would own it. Roka leapt at the chance, envisioning a life among the stars of glory and adventure. What he found was much more mundane. Long stretches of hyperspace travel, waiting at rendezvous points, and haggling over prices that had already been set. Roka hopped around the galaxy for a few years, trying to find his place before he found The Swift Fortune. Offering his skills and ship as a cargo pickup and pilot, he joined the crew, hoping that this could be the adventure he was looking for.

Name: Shav'ala'nasto

Age: 35

Species: Chiss

Gender: Female

Force Sensitive: Nope, not at all.

Role on the ship: Cook

Appearance: Valana stands at 5'5" with bra strap length jet black hair typical of her species that she keeps very well kept at all times. Facially she has something of a snub nose above full dark blue lips and a sharp chin with full diamond cheeks. Her most striking facial feature though is the classic triple claw scar across her left eye. Giving the appearance that she was raked across the face by a Nexu cub as that is the story she gives when asked about it.

Her clothing depends heavily on the day, most of the time she wears some of the galaxy's most expensive fineries, typically preferring flowing and ornamental dresses, jumpsuits or robes typically paired with equally audacious jewelry, chandelier earrings and ornate pendants. On days that she thinks there might be trouble it is usually worn over a dark skintight unitard or catsuit just in case, being what she wears whilst scavenging as well.

Personality: Valana generally keeps to herself, distant from most. Always calm, cold and collected Valana rarely if ever shows any emotion towards anything regardless of the situation. She doesn't trust anyone, keeping what she considers a healthy suspicion of all those she meets even the crew of the ship. Beyond that though she hides it well she does harbor a slight racist streak towards non-human or near human races typical of Imperials.

Equipment: Valana keeps a Q2 Hold-Out blaster holstered on her upper left calf at all times with a small vibroblade sheathed on the opposite thigh concealed under her clothes. She also owns a small wrist mounted poison dart launcher and a databreaker that she keeps in her quarters.

Your Quarters: Valana's quarters are adjacent to the kitchen, small with the majority devoted to her closet space the rest of the quarters look fairly imperial, dark with a bed, a dresser, and a holonet terminal. That said she spends more time in the kitchen anyways. It is organized with Imperial efficiency many of the cabinets having been refitted to be sealed containers with precise environmental control. While most are just filled with herbs and spices from across the galaxy kept completely without humidity several have meats sauces and even some living organisms kept in very specific conditions to preserve them. Varying from extreme cold to poisonous atmospheres only she knows what is in each cabinet and what is safe to eat, touch or breathe. She keeps the dangerous ones locked though along with the more general purpose walk-in freezer. All bound to one key she keeps on her at all times. She also keeps an A280 blaster rifle in a hidden compartment under the kitchen countertop as well.

Your Spaceship: Valana owns a Cutlass-9 Patrol Fighter, completely stock.

Obligation: Valana is a traitor to the Empire, she has a rather hefty bounty on her head though she has changed her name and appearance to hide herself from them.

Statistics:
Brawn: 1
Agility: 2
Intellect: 3
Cunning: 4
Willpower: 2
Presence: 3

Skills:

Charm 2
Deception 2
Piloting 1
Perception 1
Negotiation 1
Skullduggery 1

History: Valana was not born Shav'ala'nasto, her birth name was actually Crass'enn'parloo or 'Sennpa' as shorthand. Her childhood was relatively normal, born to a wealthy family of Chiss diplomats she lived in leisure and comfort, untouched by the war plaguing the galaxy. Her childhood was filled with privilege, she never got her hands dirty or labored a single say in her life. She never knew struggle and certainly not the plight affecting the rest of the galaxy.

Unfortunately though her life took a pretty sharp turn when she was 16. Her parents were both killed in a hyperspace accident, and whilst she had their estate to live off of even she knew it would not last long. Luckily for her however she was approached soon after by the newly formed Galactic Empire, with an offer of too good to refuse. She would be trained as an Imperial Spy a few years at the Academy learning the arts of deception and subterfuge before being emplaced as a representative of the Chiss in the Imperial Senate. Silencing voices of dissent in the upper echelons of the Imperial aristocracy while maintaining the lavish lifestyle she had grown accustomed to.

She gladly accepted the offer, and spent the next four years of her life secluded in an Imperial Academy it was the hardest time of her life. Her former status held no sway in her new life, but the ordered Imperial way and many of their ideals rubbed off on her rather quickly. It turned out she took to the spy game like a fish to water, lying was in her blood. As her final test before officially graduating she had to kill the Chiss Representative in the Imperial Senate that she would be replacing. As an old family friend it wasn't hard for her to get an audience with him, she poisoned his drink with a slow-acting poison that wouldn't take effect for several days.

It wasn't hard for the Empire to replace him with her, her family's background made her a natural candidate and after pulling a few string and greasing a few palms she was an official Junior Representative in the Imperial Senate. She spent the next several years of her life embroiled in Imperial politics reporting any notable secrets to her superiors and occasionally making sure that some troublemakers were silenced. Sennpa preferred befriend or seduce targets, getting close and gaining their trust so it would be easy to slip a drop or two of poison into their food or drink, though she was occasionally forced into less elegant means.

All good things must end however and for her it ended quite abruptly when an old friend from Csilla got in touch with her. They met over dinner at a fine restaurant on Coruscant, where he presented her with a rather grim reality. A holotape from an Imperial ship, which clearly depicted it blasting her parent's ship as it came out of hyperspace. It didn't take long to figure out the truth of the matter, the Empire wanted someone in the Senate who could do some of the dirty work required to minimize dissent. She had the right upbringing and was young enough to mold mentally while being old enough that they could appoint her to the position while the Empire was still in it's early years before power was completely consolidated.

She considered just ignoring it and carrying on, even if the Empire did such horrible deeds she couldn't exactly do anything about it and she did have a pretty sweet gig. But she knew that if the Empire ever found out that she knew they would not trust her any longer and she'd fall victim to some form of horrific "accident". She used her resources over the following months to secretly setup a new identity she could fall into. And then one night she was gone, along with a small fortune in credits. She bought a ship, had a shady outer rim surgeon scar up her face and took on the identity of Valana, a wealthy Imperial patriot's daughter turned Imperial Mess Officer that had a slightly too close call with a Dug pirate's pet Nexu when their ship was overrun and took the first opportunity to get out of the military.

Luckily she had become quite a culinary master after learning how to poison the food or drink of almost any species without them knowing, so it wasn't hard for her to find a new job. She worked as a chef in a restaurant on Ord Mantell for awhile. But after avoiding the gaze of bounty hunters and even the occasional Imperial for months she decided it would be better to serve for a smaller clientele. The Swift Fortune a scav ship in port at the time fit the bill nicely, never staying in one place long enough to be noticed by locals, and a crew small enough that if necessary she'd at least have a fighting chance should they find out about her bounty and try to cash in. She offered her services to the Captain and thus here she is.

Image to be posted

Name: Caster Wren

Age: 32

Species: Human (half Mandalorian)

Gender: Male

Force Sensitive: Yes, but he has no idea.

Appearance: Caster stands around six-foot tall. He usually has a fairly clean shaven face’ but has been known to let it go very once in awhile. His face is fairly angled. Rectangular jaw, high cheek bones. a very slight gauntness to his cheeks. He has short brown hair and hazel eyes. He is fairly muscular however lean at the same time. His left arm is prosthetic. While no attempts were made to make it look human, it is anatomically correct, though it as the appearance of being somewhat clunky and utilitarian. The prosthetic operates just as smooth and naturally as his original home grow limb.

He usually wears bits and pieces of his old uniform. Usually maroon pants with a navy blue blood stripe and an imperial bomber jacket with the patches ripped off and custom ones replacing them. He also wears a long sleeve collared shirt. He also hangs a piece of Mandalorian fabric from his belt on the left side towards the back, something akin to wearing a bit of tartan.

Personality: While generally sarcastic, he’s been known to be completely serious from time to time. This can make it hard for people to tell when he is serious. He’s all around a salty ‘borg (I do in fact know some star wars slang).

Equipment: Generally, he keeps a blaster pistol on his person at all times. On occasion, he'll be seen with a long range blaster rifle. He also keeps various survival supplies in at least his quarters along with highly customized scout trooper armor.

Your Quarters: Usually in quarters, one would see old Mandolorian fabrics hanging around the walls along with artifacts on the shelves from Mangalore and many other places, some notably tribal of unknown origin to most. He also has a secret compartment that harbors a lightsaber that is rarely brought to the public eye (especially when in Imperial space or on a planet subjugated by the Empire).

Your Spaceship: Z95-Headhunter with customized paint

The fighter's color scheme is black with dark red trim.

Role: Escort Fighter Pilot

Obligation: hand rolled tabac cigarettes (or at least the equivalent of hand roles cigarettes) squad mate(s) aren't too forgiving about the circumstances of Caster Wren's discharge.

Statistics:
Brawn: 2
Agility: 3
Intellect: 3
Cunning: 2
Willpower: 3
Presence: 2

Skills:

• Piloting 3
• Mechanics 1
• Charm 2

History: Caster Wren was born on Mandalore to a Mandalorian father and human moved from Dantooine (who had tribal lineage from the western regions). He was brought back to Dantooine at an early age just before his parents’ death. While a young lad, he befriended an older woman by the name of Dewan, who had taken him in an provided him with a surrogate grandmother like relationship. She was an older Mandalorian who had emigrated to to Dantooine at the start of the Empire and continued to raise Caster with the Mandalorian culture. At the young age of 18 he volunteered for the stormtrooper corps opting for the highly specialized scout trooper divisions.. After a few years, he was dishonorably discharged for negligence and refusing to follow orders, the details of which have not been shared with anyone other than Dewan. He lost his arm after discharge after facing off against a force user and losing quite terribly. He was hired by an extremist member of the rebellion to assassinate a target and came up against a dark Jedi who had wanted to recruit the target Caster was sent to kill. Dewan was the robotics engineer who patched him up and put him back into the world.

Name: Jax Krell
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Race: Besalisk
Force Sensitive:No. Hopefully a little lucky sometimes.
Appearance:

Of a regular build for a Besalisk. Jax has the trademark scaley, darkbrown forehead, but instead of the normal beige skin underneath it, he grows a bushy stubble flowing over into a beard and the 'normal' walrus moustache. Though his size and eyebrows can be found intimidating or grumpy looking, he usually wears a friendly expression, smiling away or talking and laughing with a bouldering voice. A voice that has somewhat of an edge through years of cigar smoking. Unlike stereotypes demand his girth is no sign of physical neglection. The perceived 'Fatness' is mostly due to the species very cold home planet of Ojom, where a good insulating layer can mean the difference between life and death.
Jax Krell seems grown into a 4-holed wife-beater shirt that used to be white. It is set with a number of pockets over the front out of which rags, cigars and an array of other stuff might protrude. Under it he has a similarly pocketed blue set of working pants. Over it all he wears a long, brown leather trenchcoat for the covert storage of a few more items in its numerous inner pockets. Oddly enough the trenchcoat only has 2 sleeves through which Jax has his upper arms. Rendering the bottom arms either 'hidden' (though it gives him a bit of an odd shape), or the coat being pulled back behind the lower arms. The coat sleeves are neigh always rolled up to bare his forearms.

On his belt he has a set of heavy blasters, one for each hip.
Under his coat, at the backside of his belt he has two stun batons, nigh always hidden, but retrievable fast just like the short barreled scattergun he has at the back of his belt.

Equipment:
-A set (2) of heavy blaster pistols with filed away trigger guard to accommodate his large fingers.
-A short barreled scattergun.
-Two stun batons.
-A datapad
-A comm-link
-Cigars, of the thick variant.
-A gazillion packages of matches in various states of fullness (or emptyness if you are a pessimist).
-A pocket knife.
-Chance Cubes
-A canteen of whatever strong liquor was at hand in the last port.
Your Quarters: A simple room with a wider bed in order to fit his body. Other than that it is just a messy place generally speaking.
Your Spaceship: Jax uses a Quadjumper Spacetug of the Swift Fortune to scavenge for goods.
Role on the ship: Mechanic and scavenger.
Obligation:
Without fail, Jax sends any spare credits to his mother on Naboo. Aside from that a Weequay named Aryl Dervol looking for him for Jax cutting him out of an arms deal.

Statistics:
Brawn: 3
Agility: 3
Intellect: 3
Cunning: 1
Willpower: 3
Presence: 2

Skills:
Astrogation: 1
Mechanics: 2
Piloting: 1
Resilience:1
Streetwise: 1
Brawl: 2
Melee: 1
Ranged light: 1

History:
Jax was born on the Outer-Rim planet of Dantooine where he grew up in a farmers family. A harsh life on broken soil, but the pride of his family nonetheless. When the Clone War came to his planet his family became refugees like so many other families. An experience that left the family scarred, for they were interned in one of the refugee camps on Ord Mantel, a place where the right of the strongest ruled. Jax, only 15 at the time had to make use of the muscles build during the long years of farming there to procure sustenance for his family and started getting involved in the trade of scarcer goods in the refugee camp, mainly as an enforcer. They made it through these days and the war on Dantooine ended a short month after the Senate had accepted laws distributing the refugees amongst more planets. Jax’s family got a good deal on Naboo. Jax’s father wanted to go back to Dantooine nonetheless and see what had become of the family heritage and rebuild if need be, but the refugee camp had made him age fast to Jax’s eyes. He offered to take his father’s place and urged him to enjoy the early pension Naboo could grant him.
Upon returning the Krell homestead was ruined, the ground littered with battle droids and artillery craters. In the process of cleaning up he was approached by a Weequay arms dealer named Aryl Dervol. Jax was in need of the credits so they cut a deal concerning the weapons he found and some of the re-sellable droid parts. He stowed the credits away to repair the farming equipment that had been damaged, but as the field got cleaned up it became clear that the land was unworkable. Haunted by the messages of anticipation coming from his father Jax couldn’t help but pretend everything was ok, sending money back he earned from ‘scavenging’ as though it came from harvest sales.
To keep that sham up Jax started scavenging from larger parts of the planet than just the fields surrounding his own farm and quickly came into contact with others in the same profession. These weren’t always the nicest encounters and Jax found the skills learned in the refugee camp to be a great asset. His co-operation with Dervol bloomed. Specifically when the Republic went over into the Galactic Empire there was an ever greater demand for weapons when a group called the ‘Alliance’ made their base on the desolate planet of Dantooine.
In the hopes of getting a better margin Jax tried to cut out Dervol and deal directly with the ‘Rebels’ (as the Empire branded them) which was a great deal less sinister than dealing with Dervol. Who was of course not happy when he found out. Threats were made and honoured and despite Jax telling everyone he lost his arm because it got stuck while scavenging, Dervol was the actual reason. The Rebels helped him out when he came there, broken and short a limb, even set him up with the replacement he still holds today (albeit slightly more modified now). They even offered Jax a small team to help scavenge weapons for the Rebels (if he lowered his rates that is) and Jax was content.
Unfortunately the Rebel base had to move at some point for safer destinations somewhere on a foresty planet with pretty ruins. Not long after Dantooine became barren for a good scavenger and Jax had second thought about living up to the lie of rebuilding the farm. He even gave it a try, but the farmers live was no longer for him. It just did not have the thrills Jax was looking for. He kept at it however, for the sake of his parents, and so for a long year he tilled the barren soil and repaired machines that had no function yet. That was the year his father died.
It was some solace he had died in peace on Naboo but things had changed, even there. The Empire had stopped the funding for the refugee programs and his mother was at the grace of charity when Jax’s checks stopped coming in. In need of more credits than the desolate farm could provide Jax signed on to the Swift Fortune to scrape the credits together.

---

Name: Ayya Kyndoola

Age: 25

Species: Twi'lek

Gender: Female

Force Sensitive: Yes - but since her outburst, it hasn't really done much despite her efforts. Perhaps something subconscious is holding her back?

Role on the ship: Engineer, Linguist and Part-Time Inventor.

Appearance:
Ayya stands at an average height of 5'7", with a build one could describe as slim and pretty; however, hard work and a less than safe lifestyle has ensured that Ayya is not the picture perfect model that the female of her kind are often seen as. Her muscles are toned through years of manual labour, paired with callouses on her slender fingers, and scars found marring her powder-blue skin. Most are minor and inconsequential, but she has a few larger, more major ones across her chest and back - slash marks, from a bad experience with a mercenary with a vibroblade. Intricate tattoos can also be found on her lekku, which are long enough to reach her waist and only just brush her buttocks. They are usually dangling down her back, occasionally pulled to the front when she wants her back free to sit or lie down on. One time she used them as a scarf when it was particularly cold; it worked wonders for keeping her neck warm... but her lekku did not thank her for her failed experiment with hours of painful tingling afterwards. Her eyes are blue, far deeper and darker than that of her skin. Matched with a sunny smile and pointed face, she can sometimes have a mischievous look about her.

As for her clothing, Ayya tends to wear things that are comfortable, practical, but still look good. On top of her personal hygiene (Which she takes very seriously - while being a mechanic is often a mucky job, she painstakingly washes herself every night. Just because she works with smelly people doesn't mean she has to be smelly too.) she also likes to ensure she wears clean clothes as often as possible. A lot of her clothing (Her vest, belt, boots and protective gloves) are all leather, so are easy enough to wipe down if they get soiled. Her shirt and pants are a deep turquoise colour, and made of a light-weight material that can be washed and dried quickly. Leather ties connected to a headdress adorn her head and lekku, simply for aesthetics's sake than anything else. It's not like that pesky hair some species have that get's in the way all the time.

Personality:
Ayya is generally a pleasant sort of individual. Adapts to most situations well and can soon fit in with most crowds; this was brought forth from her time in Coruscant, dealing with a wide host of different creatures with different temperaments. She is always quick to tell a joke to lighten up a situation, but in very bad moments, it's more of a defence mechanism. If she's quiet when things are going bad, if you know her well enough you know for damn sure she's scared.

However, she tries to avoid getting like that. Ayya would rather be angry than scared, so jokes can often devolve into sarcastic, often harsh comments when she's feeling stressed out. She dislikes fighting out of fear that her powers will come to light again, and she would prefer to keep them under wraps. However, she would make a fast friend for anyone - she's both good at and happy to listen to other people's troubles, glad to help people. But at the same time, she's likes the distraction from her own issues. It would take some doing for her to let her walls down around someone else.

Equipment:
2 pistol blasters
2 small vibroblades
A pocket knife
The pouches on her belt containing a plethora of things useful for on the go repairs; nuts and bolts, batteries, screws, wires, screwdrivers, etc. Also some bantha jerky, and a rebreather. You'll never know when it'll come in handy!
Her gloves contain several devices built into them; a comm link, a low-range scanner/sensor, a distress beacon, and a very small holographic data-pad. The latter is in the works and acts up a lot, so she also carries a regular datapad on her at all times. Just in case.

Your Quarters: Regardless of where she sleeps, she always somehow makes a hammock if one isn't available. She can rarely sleep in anything else. Other than that her quarters are atypical; a few things thrown haphazardly around the room, but otherwise tidy enough to walk about in.

Your Spaceship: Nope, it exploded.

Obligation: Earn money and avoid her previous employers. Also, hopefully learn more about controlling these rather unwanted powers that she has so as to hide them better. ((Going to use her murderous ex-shipmates as 2 points in the Skills section.))

Statistics:
Brawn: 1
Agility: 3
Intellect: 3
Cunning: 3
Willpower: 1
Presence: 2
((5 Left over - moved to Skills section))

Skills:

• Computers - 2
• Mechanics - 3
• Melee - 2
• Perception - 2
• Piloting - 1
• Ranged Light - 1

History:
Ayya was born on Ryloth just a few years before the start of the Clone Wars in 25BBY. Being only 3 years old when the Battle for Ryloth occurred, Ayya's last memories of her home planet and her parents, was seeing the Jedi Knights help fight the rebels (Who included her Mother and Father) while her grandparents somehow smuggled themselves safely off planet. They had promised their daughter and son-in-law to get Ayya to safety while they helped their planet. That was the last they heard from them or the rebellion, but they still had a promise to keep to; Ayya had to be provided for. Thankfully, the pair were quite inventive in their creations, and after a few months of jumping around from planet to planet, taking oddjobs just to feed their granddaughter, they finally settled down in Coruscant. To them, it was probably the safest planet in the galaxy, what with their defences and the Jedi Temple making it impossible for a Separatist attack. Working as mechanics in a large repair shop on the planet, Ayya had a comfortable upbringing as money seemed to be no issue for the hard-working family of 3. When the owner passed, Ayya's Grandparents had amassed enough money to purchase the shop for themselves. Ayya grew up with a large host of different people, and it didn't take long for her to go from chatting idly to customers and getting under her grandparent's feet, to actually helping them with things.

Languages seemed to be picked up easily by the young girl, including the language of robots; more often than not she was tinkering away with some kind of experiment, that nearly always ended up in an explosion, a scolding from her grandparents, and finally a cuddle because she singed her lekku on a soldering iron.

As she grew older, her grandparents grew more and more frail, and after years of hard labour, were not ageing very well. By the time she reached the age of 19, her Grandfather had passed away cancer brought on from working with dangerously toxic materials when he was younger. By the age of 21, her Grandmother was beginning to lose her dexterity and memory. Realising - quite guiltily - that she couldn't and didn't want to spend the next few years nursing her Grandmother as she got worse, Ayya found a very comfortable nursing facility for her to stay in. Using her life savings that would have gone towards a ship, and also closing down and selling the shop, Ayya had enough money to pay the facility for the rest of her Grandmother's life. By this point, her Grandmother couldn't particularly tell the difference between Ayya and the pretty Twi'lek nurse looking after her - and that was fine in Ayya's eyes. As long as she was safe and happy, that was all that mattered to her.

Following this, Ayya had only a meagre amount of money left; making for spaceport, she started jumping from ship to ship, pleading to see Captain's so as to convince them to give her a job. Most laughed her away; a few more offered to take her on as an "entertainer" rather than a mechanic, so she walked out of those places herself. When she beginning to lose hope at the end of the day, Ayya approached the last ship in the dock. It was a huge frigate; from inside the bay doors she could see a number of smaller ships docked inside, along with a jumble of different people; including the Captain.

Captain Quentin Moxla was by far the most easy-going Captain she had seen yet; a Kiffar with black tattoos, he was the only one to discuss a job seriously with her. After judging for himself when watching her fix a malfunctioning pulley system on the ship, he happily shook her hand and gave her the job as mechanic. Ayya finally had a job... but there was a catch. The Star-Searcher didn't always take the most legal jobs. What they did was attack ships belonging to the fat, lazy, rich and corrupt - nobody was ever harmed beyond perhaps a concussion, and the ships were always left with enough basic functions to keep everybody alive until rescue came. Ayya was happy with that arrangement. Quentin was happy with her work.

Quentin and Ayya's relationship deepened over the years; naturally, they started out professionally. In her first few months Ayya was "tested" by the crew, but they seemed happy enough with her as she soon made fast friends. The First Mate was a bit on the odd side; always leaning a bit too close, or watching her from dark corners as her drank with the less-pleasant members of the group - but she didn't let it perturb her. Especially after her "4 year anniversary" on the ship; the crew always loved an excuse to get drunk, so Ayya's 4th year on the ship was reason enough for the Captain to throw a party. The drink was flowing, music loud, the atmosphere merry, and Ayya's eyes locked with Quentin's. They left the party early - not that the crew noticed - and spent the night together.

Ayya couldn't have been happier. While unsure if she loved Quentin, she was certainly attracted to him, and besides from that, he was a good Captain and even better friend. She was certain life was going her way... but unbeknown to her and Quentin, mutiny was brewing in the ranks. The First Mate - a human named Cori - had sowed dissent amongst his crewmates. Quentin had unwittingly recruited a blood-thirsty lot across the years, and they were ready to start killing for money again. For Cori, however, he wanted everything the Captain had. The leading role, the ship, the crew... and of course, Ayya. His wandering eyes had not been idle over the years, and he desired the young Twi'lek more than anything, perhaps simply because she was unavailable to him.

Their next mission involved happening across a damaged light freighter around Tatooine Space in the Outer Rims - slim pickings for the raider group, as it sat dead in the water. Docking with it, the Captain began to lead with his usual speech about "No moving, no-one get's hurt", only to pause at the scene before him. The ship was loaded not with cargo as he had thought, but people. From the looks of them, and the part of space they were in, Quentin quite correctly assumed they were ex-slaves, being smuggled away by some kind soul who wanted to give them freedom. Turning to his crew, he ordered them back aboard the ship, even asking Ayya to head back to retrieve equipment to aid the broken ship; Quentin was all for the under-dog, and he would be damned to see these slaves executed for attempting to gain some freedom. Ayya had only turned her back to return to The Star-Searcher before hearing the shot. Turning on her heel, she saw Quentin's vaguely surprised expression turn slack before he hit the floor, a sizzling hole in the middle of his forehead from the blaster held by Cori, killing him instantly. Ayya stood, shell-shocked for a moment as Cori and his fellows turned on the remainder of the group, beginning to slaughter the innocent slaves and outraged raiders mercilessly. Ayya didn't stay. She turned and ran.

Ignoring the tears beginning to blind her eyes, Ayya stuffed what personal belongings she could into a bag before sprinting to the hangar bay, hoping to all the deities in the sky that it was empty. To her luck, it was; but she had been followed. Cori, noticing Ayya's absence from the bloodshed, had followed her onto their empty frigate, cornering her in the hangar bay and giving her a vicious backhanded slap that sent her to the ground. Pinning the struggling Twi'lek down, the sadistically grinning human stated that now her beloved Captain was gone, she was his to with as he pleased. Now definitely panicking, Ayya felt a swell of power build up inside her; suddenly she pushed her palms towards Cori who shot up in the air, flailing and yelling in shock. Bouncing hard off the ceiling and landing even harder in a dazed pile next to her, Ayya could only stare at her hands in shock for a few moments before realising she had to leave. Throwing her things on the nearest ship, she stabbed wildly at the buttons, the ship jumping in hyperspace to the first planet's coordinates in the system; Alderaan.

Not that Ayya was paying much attention to what was going on in the cockpit; she had retreated to the belly of the ship, curled up on the floor and clutching her bag of belongings like a child would a toy as she sobbed. Not just over the loss and horror of everything she had seen; but what she had done. Ayya was no fool; she had been there during the Clone Wars, before the fall of the Jedi, and she knew what those powers were. What she was. And now was not a good time to be one of those people. As the ship's VI alerted her to nearing her destination, Ayya
stood up, hoping she could find answers in a planet infamous for aiding in the Rebellion; and by default, helping those with the Force.

Unfortunately, the first thing Ayya saw when jumping out of hyperspace was rubble. Thinking she had stumbled into an asteroid field, it was only when one of the engines blew up from impact that the VI corrected her; this was Alderaan. Aghast at the sight of such destruction, she barely had time to jump into the escape pod with her bag and jettison herself before her ship failed completely, turning into dust with another impact from a hunk of rock. Deciding glumly that this was the worst day of her life, Ayya barely noticed that the escape pod had seemingly docked with another ship. Or had it used a tractor beam? Either way, she hoped they were friendly...