It was only midway through the daylight cycle down here but he had already made it through one bottle of fungus-wine, and GX-70 (Gex to his friends) was annoyed, or simulating annoyed, depending on the view you take of droid sentience.

“Honestly,” the robot hissed at him in that prim, Coruscant-upper-crust accent that protocol droids came pre-packaged with, “You've not even been awake three hours.”

To be clear, Gex was no protocol droid. Actually, his original make and model was not completely clear- not even to him, so extensive had been the modifications over the years. Whatever he was, he'd been designed to kill, and decades of mods had only served to make him more efficient at it. They had also given him a rather strange sense of humor- which explained the voice modulator. He had ripped from an unsuspecting protocol droid and installed in himself. He preferred the diction, he said.

The man to whom Gex was hissing just shrugged. “You'd drink too if you could. Look at this shithole.”

He gestured lazily at the scene outside the greasy window of the bar. Trash-strewn alleys, beggars, thugs and addicts, storefronts shuttered behind metal grating, everything bathed in a sickly dim yellow, the color of piss after a night of boozing.

Gex approximated a shrug, not bothering to direct its optics at the window. “I lack much in the way of aesthetic sensibility. The threat assessors and hazard-drives tend to focus one's mind on the mundane.”

“Lucky you,” said the man. He was pretty droidlike himself- left eye was a round, red bionic, and neuro-tracery weaved back into his temple. His left arm too was cybernetic, fingers clinking as he drummed them on the metal table. The fleshier bits of him were pale and gaunt and did not lack for scars. His single human eye was bright green, and glittered underneath a head of black hair turning gray.

“Our contact is late. She was to meet us-”

“Twenty four seconds ago, by your chronometer,” said the man, “Yeah, yeah. Cool your processor, she'll show.”

Name – Varyn Zall
Species – Weequay
Gender – Male
Age - 29
Occupation – Former CIS mercenary.

Appearance – Varyn has an imposing physique, standing above average human height and a broad muscular body makes him stand out amongst most crowds. His features have the effect of making him seem like the ‘stupid brute’ and he has the tendency to wear a smug smile more often than not, something that isn’t typical for his species.

Apparel – Varyn nigh always wears a suit of armour plates on padded clothing, giving him the usual ‘mercenary’ look. His particular set is mostly brown, save for some scratches on the plating and the dark leather of the belts the harness he uses to carry extra reloads and other items.
Weapons – An E-11 blaster rifle with sling, underslung scattergun and a bayonet option. A DL-44 heavy blaster pistol, with almost standard issue scope removed for faster drawspeed. A vibroknife and lastly steel knuckles.
Equipment – A commlink, set of tools that are used for maintaining weapons and a set of chance cubes.

Skills
-Weapon modificatition enthusiast.
-His posing as a mercenary actually made him pretty decent in discharging a weapon, quickdrawing, and his personal favourite; throatslitting.
Flaws
-
Personality – As already hinted at above Varyn is a thrill seeker, he enjoys putting himself in danger and has thus far successfully made it out of most encounters. Though he spends his time ‘undercover’ he hardly needs to act for it. He is a mercenary, and he is an intelligence agent, both bring him joy and tension making for a relatively upbeat attitude.

Goals
– acquiring a position that grants him access to information that might interest the Empire.
-Staying entertained.

Backstory – Varyn Zall was born on Rattatak and brought up that harsh society. At a young age he was introduced into a mercenary company that specialized in ship boarding combat and was trained in the fashion, not long after the Clone Wars broke out he and the mercenary group he was with were employed by the CIS for herassing Republic transport lines. During the battle of Coruscant Varyn got stranded on the planet that gave the battle it's name, forced to flee deep into the planets underworld.