It is an era of strife and tyranny within the galaxy. For sixteen years a new order has slowly been imposing itself over the crumbling remains of democracy. The Empire as it is called, headed by the former Supreme Chancellor employs an iron fist and ruthless propaganda in order to keep control over an increasingly dissatisfied populace. While mere ripples for now, as fewer and fewer senators remain in opposition the shadows stir with rumors of credible dissent. Nowhere is this more prevalent than the Outer Rim. For millennia the region had operated as barely an extension of the Old Republic, belonging to it in name only for many sectors and others less so. Here among the darkened star lanes, at the very edges of the galaxy has many a rebellion been born, and it is here where empires have died.
Within the shadows of Imperial rule people gather to whisper of such things. Some are the expected, troublemakers even under the Republic's more lax view of order in the Outer Rim. Bounty hunters, assassins, smugglers and more besides. They have had the run of the edges of the galaxy for millenia, and while credits still grease the palms of officials everywhere, it is harder to do business when the Empire feels it necessary to exert their will through fleets of starships on patrol. Common scum, criminals and various gangs see this as not just breaking with the tradition of looking the other way, but a threat to their existence. It is not just the scum and villainy though, as citizens of all professions and station feel the boot of the Empire against the backs of their necks. In the dark spaces where once only the more criminal element gathered, now dissent festers and grows.
It is in one of those dark spaces in particular where a gathering of all kinds has come together. For on a planet broken away from its stellar moorings, a great festival is being held. Killers of both the legal and otherwise come to share their stories of the last year, shoulder to shoulder with spice-dealers and smugglers. Traders of every ware chart the dangerous and shifting hyperlanes to the Dark Harbor to buy and sell at Anchorage. A thousand starships from the smallest snub-fighters to relics of bygone eras at high-anchor disgorge their crews to the myriad cantinas to celebrate and prepare for the great game. For it is here that they will find glory, credits and for some a way to escape their troubles, so long as they pay...
Welcome to Star Wars: The Harbor's Due, a roleplay set somewhere beyond the relative comfort and safety that most RPs in the setting enjoy. Your character is not a mighty Jedi Knight combating the evils of the galaxy, or some dashing pilot in the glorious service of the Republic. They may have once been, perhaps even still think they are, but the truth is far simpler. When Obi-Wan warns Luke of Mos Eisley and the people therein, he speaks of us. No matter what they were before, now each and every one of us are the scum and villainy of the galaxy. From bounties to smuggling, kidnapping and even a spot of piracy when the pickings are good, no character among this crew can truly claim to be "good". Some will protest, claiming to be part of The Gray Mariners since they have rules unlike a good many other mercenary groups. Some think this life is only temporary, that when they've made enough credits they can go back to what they were. Others are simply here because to be elsewhere is one step closer to the Empire and either in a cell or dead. No matter the particulars, the party is composed of those on the bad side of the Empire, of one gang or another or simply the law in general.
It is all in search of one singular goal however, that of making credits and occasionally thumbing their nose at those in power. Regardless of when your character has joined the crew, whether part of the original band or fresh meat from Anchorage, they were given a question by the captain. The Mariner herself has asked…
"Who are you?"
Guidelines
With the introductions out of the way, I would like to take a moment to talk about something I feel everyone taking part of the RP should understand. I've been in the game for a while now, a few too many years to count for the sake of my own vanity, but I feel I've a decent enough grasp on what matters. Though looking like a list of rules here below, I want to stress that I consider these more as guidelines and merely what I would prefer people to abide by. I consider myself a fair GM, one that doesn't see themself as "the law" or "god" of the RP, but a fellow player looking to enjoy myself in this shared story as much as the players who have chosen me as GM.
- Firstly and most importantly, I want to address the status of the RP as 18+. This is not an indicator that there will be plentiful explicit scenes, or be used as an excuse for such. I have chosen to list this RP in this way due to where our characters will largely be operating, and the type of characters that will be shown. The Outer Rim is largely a lawless expanse of space, where the Empire has little say despite their best efforts, and this means that as a guarantee the subject matter of the RP will be of a more mature manner. There will be violence, death, drug-use and sensual tones at many points throughout the RP, but I also have an expectation with that in mind. I expect everyone in this RP to be mature enough not only to handle such things, but to go about them with proper restraint.
- Respect and communication. While I personally don't mind a little bit shown my way as the GM, I moreso ask this for your fellow players. We are all building a shared story with our characters, who I hope will be interacting with each other plentifully. To that end, keep your fellow players in mind when posting and planning posts or arcs. Communicate with them if ever there is the possibility of their character being affected by something you have planned.
- Post Requirements. I hate them. No really, I dislike the idea of saying that someone has to post x number of times in a certain period or they're out, and especially despise having to stick to that myself. In my experience, nothing drains the creativity more assuredly than deadlines. As such there isn't one for submitting a character to the RP, and I won't demand of anyone that they keep to a posting schedule. All I ask is that when interacting with other characters, that you not only be respectful as asked above, but also be mindful of your own times of posting.
- Don't be a dick. Really, don't do it. If you do it, I'll have to do it, and I promise you I can be an even bigger one. I prefer to be nice and have a good time, but if you decide not to be nice and to keep other people from having a good time, then I will ruin your time in this RP. jk, I'll just ban you from the thread and have your character trip out an airlock.
Character Creation
No sliders, but there are plenty of options. Seriously, I don't quite like the idea of restricting people to this or that, saying that one thing is completely not allowed under any circumstance or whatever justification other GMs like to use. I've found that on occasion people can surprise me with a character that at first glance should have never been approved, but after a bit of one on one, can be a strong presence in the RP. With a setting as diverse as SW Legends, there are so many possibilities to build off of, so many backgrounds for characters and ways to make something truly unique. To that end, before we get to the character sheet proper and I let you all go to await what wondrous possibilities you provide me with, I do have a few things I would like to comment on regarding characters.
- On the subject of force-sensitives, force-users and former Jedi. They exist in the setting and in this RP. Our captain, my character, is one and I can't really give a hard no to such characters on that principle as well as what was said above. Primarily, that would make me a rather shit GM, and be incredibly unfair. I would only ask that when making a character keep in mind the theme of the RP. Our characters should be drawn from the common criminals, thugs, bounty hunters, smugglers and general scum of the galaxy. This is not an RP following the fall of the Jedi Order, of the plight of the remaining Jedi or the hunt for force-sensitives. At the very least that is how this RP is starting and how I would like to see it go for a good time afterward. This doesn't preclude people from playing former Jedi or force-users in general, but it does mean that when making one to keep in mind the environment they are in. A good portion of the average character our group will be interacting with would eagerly turn such a person in for a reward from the Empire. A force-user as part of this crew would need to have at the very least a way of disguising their abilities and need to be able to rely on other skills.
- Faces/Appearances. As you will note when looking over the CS, there is both a place for a picture and one for a detailed appearance. I would like both done, and encourage everyone to take that as an opportunity to go into greater detail about their characters. More important here, is the subject of pictures used in general. I've become rather partial to face-claims, and especially the use of gifs and such to show how my characters express themselves a little more… Viscerally. This is by no means a requirement for anyone, and I won't refuse a character on the basis of their CS using a particular art style. Just… Keep it presentable. You know what I mean.
- Characters in general. All that said, I would like to say that a well-structured and detailed sheet will always go over better than one that is essentially a somewhat expanded concept. The character sheet below is one adapted from another RP that I happened to like because not only is it innately structured better than something I could do on my own, but provides many places of opportunity for the player to add detail to their character. Just don't get too involved in creating a character that you may not be as enthused to play as the character once it's done. As someone who has done that before, I would hate to see someone put a lot of effort into a well-written character only to dislike it and not want to RP as it.
Finally, the character sheet. You are free to post WiPs in the OOC, and I even encourage it so that we can all work together on things and help to ensure everyone gets as close to the type of character they want to play as possible. Just please do not post your character in the characters tab until approved.
[hider=Character name][[center][h1][color=???]Character name/Title[/color][/h1] [img]Image or gif of character[/img][/center] [color=???][b]|[u] {Full Name} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]???[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Age} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]???[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Species} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]???[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Gender} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]Male/Female/Neither[/indent] [.hr] [color=???][b]|[u] {Force Sensitive/Alignment} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]Yes/No - Dark/Grey/Light(Can be more specific in the alignment, if not fully in one of the three categories.)[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] Role on Ship [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]Your character's role in the mercenary company and/or on the ship in general.[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Appearance} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]Self-explanatory, cover at least the basics to some detail.[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Equipment and Personal Belongings} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]All personal belongings, equipment or items of note that would be either on your character's person on a daily basis or in their quarters. Include as well anything that may be in storage on the Mariner in the cargo bays or the hangar if applicable.[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Physical Abilities} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]Any and all strictly non-force abilities your character may have. This includes, but is not limited to combat skills, natural ability or learned skills.[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Force Abilities} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]Strictly force-abilities your character may have. Only include this section if your character is a force-user. Anything that may affect your character's ability to be influenced by the force would fall under the Physical Abilities section or the Limitations section, such as if your character was of a species naturally resistant, or was perhaps more susceptible to the mind trick power.[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Limitations} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]Any and all limitations that your character may possess.[/indent] [.hr] [color=a187be][b]|[u] {Personality} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]This, along with the Backstory section should be the more detailed areas of the CS.[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Place of Origin} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]Quite simply, where your character came from and a brief bit on their upbringing.[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Background} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]A history of your character showing important events in their past, and most particularly how they came to be part of the mercenary group and what they've done since joining.[/indent][/hider]
One might mistake Airus for a poor pilgrim or wounded civilian at first glance, and even more so if they were to truly look at his clothing and bandaged over his. His features kept hidden by his cloak and bandages, though tufts of soft red hair can sometimes be seen upon his head. Well muscled and agile he seems rather strong for someone with no eyesight and no credits. Standing roughly over six and half feet tall with a medium build Airus has little in the way of defining features that can seen with his usual attire on. He bears a handful of scars along his body that seem different from a blaster but he never speaks about them if asked.
| {Equipment and Personal Belongings} |
Beskar walking sticking with force locked compartment for two lightsabers DL-44 blaster Datapad with Jedi archives information Medical Jedi Holocron Jedi combat Holocron Medical Kit Two dual phase lightsabers hidden within his walking stick Jedi Knight robes Pilgrims robes Headband Boxes of heavy bandages.
| {Physical Abilities} |
Doctor: Airus might not look it but you’ll never find a more steady handed and calm surgeon or capable of diagnosing a sickness rather quickly with examination. Thanks to so such time spent roaming the outer rim and treating sickness with a variety of species. His talent as medical and surgical doctor stem from helping a lot of communities on the outer rim as the Clone Wars ended.
Saber combat: Airus always practiced saber combat as a form of meditation and on the backwater worlds while the Empire was still organizing itself Airus had years to practice the forms he’d studied and hone himself as a warrior, lacking the ability to advance his force training. While a pacifist in a world ruled by Sith he knew he would need to defend himself from Imperial Agents and against any who might hunt him just for being connected to the force. Shii-Cho which Airus mastered as a Padawan before turning his attention to Soresu, finding the defensive form to be useful especially at defending himself until he could escape. As a Consular Airus strove to improve himself further and began learning yet another form, Shien/Djem So. With the fall of the Republic, he understood he make come up against enemies with sabers and so began to practice Makashi. With his second saber, he would relearn many skills applying Jar’Kai to them. Since becoming a more staff based combatant he has trained in Ataru using is as a way to quickly dispatch a single aggressor realizing he requires an aggressive style if he needed to deal with threats.
Lorekeeper: Airus spent most of his Padawan years in the great archives reading and learning the history of the Sith, the Jedi, the Republic, and the conflicts that defined the Republic and the Jedi order. He is an expert on many ancient artifacts and era’s of history few studied while not versed in local history well he knows much of galactic history and enjoys sharing the information. Acting as a sort of encyclopedia of information that turns pieces of junk into treasure. Thought his favorite bits of history relate to the Mandalorian wars and Revanite Schism that followed.
Conventional Combat: Airus adapted to staff combat as a method protecting himself and those around him without drawing lightsabers and gaining more attention than needed. He also has drawn on his gifted sight and ability to predict movement to be a crack shot with a blaster. While he is not heavily trained in these forms of combat he can keep with most non-force sensitives in battle.
Diplomat: A founding tenet of the Jedi order is to attempt peace through negotiation Airus will always try to reason and talk it out with people. Not to mention he is willing to warn them what will happen if anyone attempts to harm those he cares about. A Jedi Knight is taught the first form of combat is not to fight and Airus tries to embody this in how he approaches things and acts towards people. Though he is also wary of traps and tricks picking up on deceit easily.
Veteran: Airus served in the Clone Wars as a General, even if he wasn't a supporter of the war. As such he has experience in tactics, combat, and thinking up plans on the fly. Though he avoids fighting that doesn't mean he hasn't become quite adept in how to perform it.
| {Force Abilities} |
Natural Abilities: Force Empathy Force Sight/Farsight
Abilities learned at the Jedi Academy: Jedi hibernation Mind Trick Comprehend Speech Force Body Telekinesis Force heal
Abilities after the Academy Clone Wars: Tutaminis Shatterpoint Saber Barrier
Abilities learned after Great Purge: Revitalize Force Stealth Detoxify poison
| {Limitations} |
Needs a reader: Airus adores books but he can only through braille or having something read too him as such Airus usually asks some to read for him or uses a device that speaks the words on written before him.
The way of Wanderer: Airus no longer staunchly avoids violence whether his emotions boil over, he witnesses acts of cruelty, or those he cares about are in danger Airus will attack. While it may take some riling up or simply finally lose his patience Airus can lash out and has before. This is especially common when clones are brought up or Jedi are mocked, having a short temper with things he once held dear.
Hounded by Blades: Airus is a Miraluka, an illegal race, a fact he hides well by making use of force stealth and his staff when walking. However Airus reputation has not vanished a Jedi healer who killed two Inquisitors means the Inquisitorius hunts Airus with a passion. While they have not yet found him slowly they are building an image of what this healer looks like. He is not a priority to grand inquisitor who is more worried about Master Jedi than what he feels is probably a lucky former medical corps Padawan washout. However killing an inquisitor killer is sure to gain an Inquisitor influence.
The Terrors of Force: Airus has and continues to be haunted by Force, he sees visions of the slaughter at the temple. Haunting images of himself broken to the dark side uncaring and unfeeling. These visions started after the fall of the temple and still scare him to this day. The memories of wars, the visions of the future, happy memories decimated, and at the center of Airus feels his lack of conviction to the tenants wounds his departed masters to the core.
Fading Light: Airus was never the strongest in the force, finding more comfort in communing with the force through his lightsaber than meditation. His last learned skill came a year after the fall of the Republic, since that time he's been unable to learn new skills in the force and his old ones have weakened. In truth, many of his powers seem to exhaust than they used too as Airus spills further into being unsure of his path his Jedi training and dependence on light leads his own abilities to be weaker. Without a lightsaber in hand to help steady and focus him Airus's own force abilities drain his body much faster and cannot be sustained as long.
| {Personality} |
Airus is a conflicted soul, a Jedi trying to do good also trying to survive the Empire's brutal grasp. He prepares for combat and expects violence against him but never raises his fist first, taking any step he can to avoid fighting. Airus gives freely of his medical talents, force skills, and time to anyone who needs the assistance. However, the Jedi Consular can be devious he's infamously gambled and won against many people, barely ever losing, due to the fact he can see all the cards through the force. He does try to only take Imperial's and only win enough to wander ever onwards. Kindly, compassionate, and deviously clever Airus is strange but interesting Jedi Knight.
| {Place of Origin} |
Coruscant, born and raised on the planetwide city Airus Vel Aath was one of the few to become a Jedi Knight. Raised among the Order alongside his sister and many other students his sister and himself both serving as Lorekeepers with his sister traveling off with Exploration corps and his last assignments to begin contact with the Mandalorian about swapping historical records.
| {Background} |
Airus Vel Aath was never supposed to be a Knight, he was a Padawan apprenticed to a Chief Librarian Jocasta Nu while he had passed the initial trials and attended the Academy Airus ability to use more advanced force techniques was limited, unlike his sister who lacked sabers skills but had force mastery. While his saber skills were impressive and could have allowed him to continue on to become a Sentinel or Guardian his passion for knowledge and a love of history especially of the Republic and Jedi Order made him a choice pick to become a Lorekeeper. Believing he would not become a Lorekeeper due to the need for Jedi to fight the war Airus even during his academy days became rebellious often slipping away to explore Coruscant usually dragging his sister along.
During his time training at the academy, he practiced in the path of Sentinel as the High Council wanted him before allowing him to become a Padawan to a Consular, the Chief Librarian. The Council allowed this due to disagreement in just how many Knights and Padawans they were sending out to fight. This was also due to the Council of First Knowledge threatening to deny records access if another Padawan request was turned down.
Airus trained in investigation and practical use of the force, before shifting focus to research and artifact recovery. His other training came in how to deal with people with depending on the force and learning about how to negotiate whether discussing money with a Hutt or dealing with Alderaanian nobility, he even attended Senate meetings... Most of which he slept through. These skills served him well as the Chief Librarian could give him field assignments or recovery missions alongside Knights where he could hold his own and retrieve valuable historical items for the Order. Especially about the recently returned Sith who the Council wished to gain as much insight about as possible.
His time as a Padawan under Master Nu ended during the final years of the clone wars. Due to the war, few initiates became Lorekeepers with so many Jedi needed to fight alongside the clones. Airus did not face the trials like most Padawan's instead earning his knighthood facing a Separatist General who tried to take an ancient Holocron from him. Airus had traveled with Jedi Archaeologist Rachi Sitra to the shattered and corrupted planet of Malachor V under direction advice from the council tracking an artifact the Dark Acolyte Sev'rance Tann was pursing. The dark sider managed to render Knight Rachi unconscious and wound her, the hunt for the artifact and battles went on for days. Airus alone managed to defeat and escape not only with the Holocron but caring his fellow Jedi to the shuttle escaping the wrath of Chiss General.
He impressed the High Council saw him promising Jedi even if he preferred books to battle, Airus became a Knight with little debate among the Council his trials had been faced on the hell that was Malachor. Airus saw a few deployments as a general, mostly after finding out what had happened on Ryloth and other horrifying crimes. He along with many others were against the war but once it had ramped and the truth of what the CIS was doing came to light he had to serve. Originally assigned to the Mudjumpers serving on Mimban, Airus served proudly with the unit. With his skill in mind, Airus would be a natural fit as an attache for service corps Jedi who entered the field often times with no saber.
Airus had been dispatched with a few Jedi service corps from medical corps to Mandalore after Maul was removed from power. His duty at the time had been to search for items Maul might have left and to record the events that had transpired on Mandalore. His host family even offered him a gift a walking stick made of Mandalorian Iron, a gift for his efforts in chronicling the life of Duchess Satine Kryze so her deeds would be remembered by all of the Republic not just Mandalore. Airus contacted his sister before she left with colonists for a new world beyond the rim that was apparently a great habitat for rare plant life and seemed to have ruins on it that needed to be studied.
Airus was given shelter and a place to stay in Sundari, he was welcomed and shared many long debates of Mandalorian history with the Clan that gave him a place to stay. He also found himself spending time with the host clan's matriarch's daughter, a young Mandalorian woman. Airus sparred often with her and they chatted for hours other Jedi spread rumors that he forming an attachment to her. He finished his records and discovered nothing pertaining to Maul, nothing even about the Darksaber that the Mandalorians so revered. Mandalore had fully broken into civil war with the Capital becoming a safe zone for non-combatants Airus remained along with Clones to provide security for the medical corps.
Yet all was not well, Airus was on Mandalore that day when the Order fell. Those who had sheltered him told him to run yet, that the clones would kill him but he couldn't leave the medical service corps Jedi. He wasn't sure all of them even had a lightsaber, Airus arrived too late he saw Mandalorians being dragged away for trying to help the Jedi, others opening fighting the clones. The entire medical service corps dead save for one shivering young Echani Padawan, Antalis Helac, cradling her wound the corpses of several clones around her.
Airus moved to her side, he could do nothing there to care for her. He could not save her life, but he could be with her and offer her some comfort before she returned to the force. He held her talking with about Coruscant a few moments, offering a distraction. Finally, she pushed her holocron she'd been hiding to his chest and told him to carry on the legacy of the order... That people like the medical corps and the Lorekeepers would need to survive just as much as the Knights would. She passed away after that, taking her lightsaber to honor her commitment he made a vow he would survive to give his knowledge to the next generation of Jedi. As he meditated more he understood that joining this war had doomed the Jedi, he became more committed to avoiding violence than ever... It had to be the right way forward now.
Airus nodded, placing her back near the others he gave them one last honor burning the bodies as he made his escape. He escaped that night on a freighter the young man crying as he realized his life was over as he knew it. Airus rebranded himself as a pilgrim, a blind doctor simply wandering from place to place collecting knowledge in the outer rim. He trained himself through his personal archives of data on Jedi healing skills, he'd hoped to learn something while on assignment with the medical corps.
Days later Airus was alone traveling Rim world he barely knew the name of, he found a village with a group of clones mocking the Twi'lek settlers. Airus still reeling from the effects of deaths of hundreds of Jedi, the forces pain having snapped his force connection to his sister he felt more vulnerable than ever. The force wracked him with visions of what had happened at the temple his own powers as an empath multiplying the pain. Something snapped and Airus unable to feel anything but pain assault the clones, only wishing to render unto the same tortured emotions he felt.
A moment of hatred, pain, and anger saw him beat five clone troopers to death his staff, the attacks savage and uncontrolled. The Clones struggled, one tried to gouge his eyes only puncturing through the skin as tried to claw the force user off of him. Nothing liked the disciplined and skilled Jedi he became animal at that moment shattering the plasteel armor tearing at the clones inside. He left the bodies ripped apart by the force and bones shattered by his now blood coated staff. What scared him the most was not that he did this... But how good it felt to release the stress, the anger, the guilt, and unleashing in brutal fashion. Steadying himself shaking in fear with choked sobs Airus ran from the village, he knew he was not a proper Jedi anymore, not anything his master would be proud of.
Airus wrapped his eyes in bands, his hands as well not wanted to look at the once bloodstained hands, he knew he would have to atone. He would perform good acts and fight this darkness he would not become like what he had seen on Malachor, he would be a good Jedi... For his departed Master's he would do good. Airus became a hermit, sleeping in caves or under trees sometimes even in alleys or hidden in places non-force users couldn't reach.
He gave freely of his growing medical talents to the sick and poor, never accepting credits for the task. His dreams haunted by seeing the faces of academy students cut down or shot by troopers. Other nights he saw himself having bled his own lightsaber striking down clones before destroying the lightsaber of Padawan Antalis ending any hope of him carrying on the order. When rumors reached his ears of a mystical healer he found a ship to hide on or Imperial to cheat to earn enough credits to leave whatever rock he was on behind.
Airus spent years that way slowly building back his belief he could be redeemed, all the time slowly feeling the crushing grip of the Empire expanding with each passing day. Airus had finally settled himself in for the time being on the distant and rather simple world of Dantooine. Working as a healer he spent nearly a whole year on the planet finally feeling he could do good and trust himself to live among people once more. He gave freely of compassion for the locals, in return, they shared food with the mystical Miralukan.
However after two galactic years after having decided to remain on Dantooine Airus's first taste of the Empire's wrath. Airus sensed it his presence... He retrieved his armor and sabers, Airus knew he would come and if he ran the people here would just be slaughtered. He did not want the fight but the fight was before him the only thing he knew to do... Protect the innocents and stand up, be the guardian dying a Jedi would be better than living like a coward. So he thought at least.
The Dark side acolyte came Airus found himself standing saber in each hand, he met the human Inquisitor on a small wooden bridge over a river, the farms to Airus's back. The Sith could only cackle as dark warrior ignited the crimson saber in his hand as the last traces of light vanished behind the green hills. Airus's own saber a stunning yellow lit up, rain began to fall sizzling as it impacted the sabers. Then the purple saber ignited as he raised it to guard, the symbols of the Jedi order and Republic boldly on display. No words were needed, they both knew what had to be done, though the Dark Jedi even had a second join in the fray Airus won out. Wounded and exhausted Airus stumbled back to the old barn he called home, he was leaving.
Airus defeated those tracking him that day but at the cost of the homes of those he had once lived with. The fear they felt towards him after learning he was one of the Jedi, he could sense it and he understood something... The felt the same towards him as they did towards the Inquisitors fear, hatred, and he had fought for them yet they. He chose not to dwell on this... But he removed the Republic markings his armor, only choosing to save his robes with the emblem of the Jedi he didn't serve anyone but himself now. Perhaps it had never been worth fighting for in the first place, Airus found himself reconsidering everything he'd been taught as even the people he'd once served turned on him.
Another year of traveling, this time Airus held no qualms of gambling against the imperials for than transport money he played to get himself food or lodgings for the night. Things that up until now he had felt a good Jedi would not need, but as Master Vos once told the council "I'm not a good Jedi through" and Airus felt the same applied to him now. However as Airus moved onwards he felt a pull, a tugging at his mind and soon he found himself sitting in a bar nursing a drink he didn't much care for after having operated on the most recent orphan who had been injured working for the local crime boss.
When a familiar face sat down across from him, well more a familiar aura. Solace was alive it seemed she had walked with in and found him with how he was hiding at the moment that was impressive. Either way, talks went on awhile both were happy to see each other, in their own way Airus buying her a drink as they discussed the past. However, Airus found out Sena was alive as well and decided he would be better off with them... Failing that at least, strength in numbers. He agreed to serve as a doctor on 'The Mariner's' ship with the condition being he would use his normal cover as a wounded doctor from the last war.
Airus paid into the ship giving up the red lightsaber crystals he'd taken from fallen Inquisitors, knowing Solace would find a buyer or use them herself. He stowed his sabers, armor, and robes away. Hiding his other Jedi items and deciding to live as best he could as a Miraluka, it would be easier, for now, Solace's way of life seemed to have ended with less hurt perhaps he could adjust to that. Until then he still felt he just a wayward Jedi trying to do good in a galaxy that no longer knew what good was.
Like nearly all members of his species, Kabal's physical appearance underneath his fully-concealing mask and body armor is little-understood. Though sharing a bipedal physique, Kabal is notably shorter and slighter of build than the average human or near-human, standing 5'5" with a slender and graceful, if frail build. As no current database record describes the Ubese's physical characteristics outside their distinctive masks, battle armor, and enviro-suits, those who've interacted with them face-to-face would not recognize them as a distinct species. As such, Kabal is almost-always seen clad in heavy layered clothing and armor, formed around traditional Ubese garb, adorned with dozens of onboard computers, gadgets, and other miscellaneous technology. He wears several bandoliers packed tight with ammo, thermal detonators, grenades, and other explosives for ease-of-access. A walking armory, Kabal always appears equipped with at least half-a-dozen weapons designed for both close-and-long-ranged encounters, ranging from shock gloves and vibroknives to heavy blasters and wrist-mounted flamethrowers. His most distinguishing feature, however, is his optically-enhanced helmet designed to breathe Type I atmospheres, which he is almost never seen without. The unsettling, dual-visor helmet and rebreather only further emphasizes Kabal's strange, enigmatic nature and mysterious background, as well as his paranoid desire to maintain it.
Assortment of thermal detonators, thermal imploders, ion grenades, stun/flash grenades, and detonation packs
ZX miniature flame projector
MM9 wrist rocket system equipped with Type-12A anti-personnel rockets and type 12B capsules filled with a FGA-583 nerve agent
Shock-gloves
Vibroknife
Layered Ubese survival clothing and armor
Ubese double-visor helmet and rebreather. Equipped with audio pickup, broadband antenna, built-in comlink, speech scrambler, optically-enhanced vision scanner, and flash guard visor to nullify the effect of flash-bang grenades.
Expert Marksman: As the crew's weapons specialist, Kabal demonstrates great skill with a variety of firearms, showing a preference for high-powered blasters and heavy repeaters. Befitting his species' fascination with all sorts of technology, Kabal is similarly skilled in maintaining and modifying weaponry, turning even the most humble DL-18 into a powerful sidearm.
Grenadier: Equally as fond of explosives as he is of blasters, Kabal is an expert demolitionist, skilled in crafting various kinds of grenades, both lethal and nonlethal, and throwing them with deadly precision. Favoring an arsenal as versatile as he is, Kabal keeps several types of grenades on his person at all times, from the modest stun grenade to the devastating thermal imploder.
Technician: What little the galaxy at large knows of the Ubese, their obsession and skill with advanced technology is ubiquitously acknowledged, and Kabal is no exception. An expert in making, fixing, and understanding all-sorts of tech, ranging from household equipment and terminals to advanced weapon components and droid hardware, Kabal's intuitive grasp of technology makes him an invaluable asset.
Physical Resilience: Despite his unassuming size and stature, Kabal is infamous for his strength, ferocity, and toughness. Utterly fearless in the face of danger, Kabal has been seen engaging and defeating opponents much larger and stronger than he is in hand-to-hand, utilizing a blend of cunning, brute force, sheer stubbornness, and his vast arsenal of gadgetry. As fast and agile as his frame would suggest, Kabal's layered clothing makes it difficult to get a firm grasp on him, and his surprising toughness relative to his size makes him a dangerous opponent even up-close. Possessing great endurance, Kabal rarely complains even in the harshest conditions: braving extreme weather, starvation and dehydration, and even severe injury; only admitting defeat when his body gives out on him.
| {Limitations} |
Amorality: Put simply, Kabal is as unprincipled as they come. Self-serving, ruthless, and chaotic, Kabal has little in the way of morals or scruples, willing to do just about anything if offered the right amount of credits. Though loyal to a degree and generally honest, Kabal makes it clear that he puts his own interests first. The galaxy is a cruel one: and the space-wizards who preached selflessness and peace are dead, their ideas with them.
Xenophobia: A blatant and unrepentant xenophobe with a clear distaste for other alien species, Kabal, despite knowing better, is somewhat difficult to work with. In general conversation, he is rude, blunt, and derisive, mocking or insulting anyone who's earned his ire. Suffering from something of a superiority complex, Kabal, like many Ubese, sees his species as above any other in the galaxy; leaving him to view other races as crude savages or dumb animals. This, understandably, makes him a less-than-pleasant companion. Despite most of the crew being able to ignore this trait in favor of Kabal's more prominent talents, it still poses a general issue, particularly in public.
Lack of Subtlety: Fond of things that go boom, Kabal's entire skill-set revolves around carnage and how to spread it. As a result, Kabal lacks entirely what one may call a "soft touch." Possessing little in the way of nuance, subtlety, or finesse, Kabal prefers the hard-and-loud approach, which has seemed to work for him up to this point - just a shame for whoever has to clean up after.
Type I Atmospheres: Growing up on a planet with a Type-II atmosphere, Kabal's lungs are conditioned to breathe atmospheres with poor levels of oxygen. His helmet, equipped with a filter to accommodate this, is a necessity to properly breathe such air. As a consequence, if ever without his helmet, Kabal suffers from the Ubese equivalent of asthma that has the potential to cause permanent lung damage.
| {Personality} |
A strange creature from a stranger species, Kabal embodies the Ubese traits of xenophobia, aggressiveness, and technophilia. A bounty hunter of mysterious origin with an obsession of all things loud and explosive, Kabal's tenacity, ruthlessness, and obstinance has earned him something of a reputation in the Mid and Outer Rim. Though lacking the raw skill of famed hunters such as Boba Fett and Bossk, Kabal has nevertheless secured a small niche for himself as a tirelessly dedicated mercenary willing to forgo food and rest in pursuit of his target. Whether out of luck, persistence, or simply his impressive arsenal of weaponry, Kabal has survived countless encounters against increasingly-impossible odds, somehow making it on top almost every time. Yet, Kabal seems almost oblivious to his own luck, simply viewing each job as it is; unaware of any greater scheme or miraculous stroke of fortune.
Likely due to past experiences, Kabal is easily-enraged and extremely aggressive, which makes him exceedingly trigger-happy with an innate desire for violence. This bloodlust is what led him to bounty hunting in the first place, driven to test his wide assortment of weapons on unwilling alien targets. Quick to pick a fight, Kabal appears utterly unaware of any size or strength difference between himself and his opponents, talking down to hulking creatures such as Trandoshans or Besalisks without a second thought. While this rudeness often gets Kabal into trouble, his quick-thinking and cleverness inevitably gets him out of it no worse for wear.
Fixated with all manner of technology: Kabal is easily distracted by terminals, droid parts, tech components, and high-powered weapons. Most strangely manifesting in an obsession with cybernetics, Kabal seems to view prosthetics as a sort-of morbid trophy, always eager to add more to his collection - even if the owner is currently in use of it.
An unapologetic xenophobe with a disdain for most non-Ubese, Kabal perceives nearly all other species as unintelligent savages, treated condescendingly at best and contemptibly at worst. This xenophobia directly correlates with the physical attributes of the alien, as Kabal treats Humans or near-Humans with far more civility than the more bestial inhabitants of the galaxy, though still retaining an overall air of superiority.
Despite his overt aggressiveness and xenophobia, Kabal is no fool. He acknowledges, however begrudgingly, that his work requires him to be somewhat civil with other species; that the galaxy at large barely acknowledges the Ubese. Though consistently misanthropic and ill-mannered, Kabal will not purposefully seek out fights with others unless given proper cause - though his definition of "proper cause" may be rather skewed. A demonstrator of honorable traits such as honesty and loyalty, Kabal has a track record of never backstabbing an employer or going back on his word. Though secretive and untrusting to a fault, he sees little point in lying to others, though he does not share such reservations in hiding parts of the truth if necessary. Nevertheless, he is best described as amoral, caring little for any law, custom, or morals but his own.
| {Place of Origin} |
Though secretive by nature and one to disclose as few details about himself as possible, Kabal, like nearly all Ubese, hails from the Mid-Rim world of Ubertica. His childhood was unmemorable, born to be disregarded in a galaxy that had all-but-forgotten the Ubese existed. Whether his parents were good or bad, or his childhood pleasant, or the event that sparked his love of technology, all pointless memories that have little presence in the future. But they are kept closely-guarded by Kabal, himself, who seems to take comfort in clinging to them. Or at least, comfort in knowing that he's the only one aware of it.
| {Background} |
The circumstances regarding Kabal's emigration from Ubertica into the greater galaxy is as mysterious as the man, himself. The story seems to change anytime he's asked, with even Force-sensitives unable to detect a lie in each iteration. He's admitted to scavenging, piracy, terrorism, trafficking, bounty hunting, and assassination, all with vague details that led him to where he was now. Currently, he's been a member of the crew for a little over a year now, picked up in Mos Eisley following a series of likely-unrelated explosions and blaster bolts. Offering his services and skills in exchange for passage, Kabal's proven himself a useful, if eccentric team-member, though at times frustrating. Fond of big guns and even bigger explosives, Kabal's role on the crew revolves around one thing: killing bad guys as loud and messily as possible.
@Alfhedil How big is the ship that this group is the crew of? Are we looking at a Corvette, a cargo freighter, a cruiser...?
Glad you asked, since it has reminded me that I forgot to add in The Noreaster into the characters tab. Our ship is a re-appropriated CR-90 that's seen a few modifications over the years. Namely in the way of turning the forward cargo bay into an armory and training deck.
Nice. I'd like to create a slicer/hacker archetype. Someone who can get the crew (and themself) in and out of computer systems, passed security protocols, and knows how to forge holos. Kind of a one-stop shop. Combat prowess will most likely be secondary.
I'll prob be a hack (pun intended) and use Kasumi Goto from Mass Effect as my template, just uh, in the SW universe :)
Visually, he is far from the most striking Muun you'll ever see. At just shy of two meters tall and a hundred and sixty pounds, the lean figure of Clu Zanith does not particularly stand out from the usual muun Physique. His elongated skull is somewhat more shapely than some of his fellow Muuns, and two golden eyes peer out from their sunken eye sockets; They say that the eyes are the window into the soul, and in Clu Zanith's case that certainly appears to be true because the greed in his eyes is practically omnipresent whenever a potential deal presents itself.
Despite this obvious avarice, however, he retains the classic Muun disdain for wasteful spending; His clothing is fairly plain, consisting only of dull garments with an armour weave cloak to drape himself in to protect from both the cold and from, heavens forbid, any danger he might find himself encountering.
Never far from his side is the towering gray-silver form of B-22, a customised C-B3 Battle Droid turned Bodyguard. With a single red sensor shining upon anyone who dares so much as look at its Muun master the wrong way and with two arms that end with ball jointed blaster cannons, B-22 serves Clu well in intimidation as much as it does in straight up protection.
| {Equipment and Personal Belongings} |
Holdout Blaster Pistol: A small blaster that Clu hasn't used in over six months now, it is easily concealed and thus always on hand in a pinch. He rarely uses it, even in battle, preferring not to fight directly and to allow others to do that. It is not particularly powerful either, being a holdout blaster, and mostly exists as a last resort.
Vibroblade: A short vibroblade in the echani style carried beneath his armour weave cloak, Clu has some training with the weapon but is by no means skilled. When activated, the ultrasonic vibrations turn even the lightest cut into a deep and deadly wound, making it a surprisingly effective weapon in a pinch; Still, it exists as one of Clu's last gasp efforts and while it might be effective if someone is caught off guard, it seems unlikely that he'd be able to put up a long fight, particularly with a weapon that's ultimately so short.
Credit Stick: This one is linked to one of Clu's many bank accounts, containing a large slush fund for business and necessary purposes.
Credit Chips: Keeping some loose credit chips is always handy.
Datapad with message from Nima Diakiyo: "I don't want to talk about it."
Datacron: For storing vast amounts of data, information and necessary details.
Holocom: For all your galactic communication needs.
Armourweave Cloak: A cloak, or perhaps capenisna more accurately term for it, that is held over his shoulder by a clasp. The material has some resistance to energy and ballistics, and is also adept at keeping out the elements should such become necessary. Indeed, its the only part of his clothing that instantly jumps out as being worth much, as Muun are not usually known for displays of extravagant or wasteful spending.
Bacta Vials: Self Explanatory.
Seperatist Combat Speeder: An old Seperatist combat speeder kept in good condition by a Pit Droid, Clu 'recovered' it from one of the old battlefields after the Clone Wars and had it fixed up. After the seperatist insignia and identifies were removed from it, Clu began to sue it as a personal transport, particularly when away on more risky business.
B-22: A Customised C-B3 Battle droid, B-22 has been with Clu for just under 16 years. Originally part of a squad of eight such droids, B-22s compatriots were destroyed at the end of the Clone Wars when they became some of the only droids not to be shut down by the Mustafar signal during a clone offensive. B-22 has since become Clu's personal body guard and aside from a few times they have been parted, its hulking presence and overwhelming firepower has been enoigu to deter most attacks on Clu's person.
| {Physical Abilities} |
Zanith has connections into all kinds of businesses, conglomerates and political groups, trading and selling favours and secrets like a mafia godfather. His reach is considerable and if a particularly piece of information can be attained, its most likely Clu can attain it. Buying and selling secrets has been his forte for a very long time, as has striking deals with unsavoury sorts.
Indeed, an arguably uncomfortable part about his presence in the ship is that for all but the quietest and most obscure of crewmembers, chances are he already knows a great deal more about them than they might be comfortable with. Some of them he may even have made deals with before, or pointed them in various directions.
These connections extend past the role of being an information broker however, with his fingers the pie of more physical black markets as well. If he is present on a planet, chances are he's already involved in the criminals there somehow; if there's new weapons on a planet, he brought them in, if there's a swoop gang war, he's loaning money to the sides, if there's a new pirate in the sector, he got the captain their ship. If there's something you want, Clu knows a guy who can do that and would be happy to get it for you... For the right price.
Sure, he's not entirely in it for the credits: If someone is in hot water, he hides them, if a planet is blockaded, his "friends" will run in the food. But then, maybe he just does it because they'll owe him after - he isn't sure himself. One part Robin Hood, two parts Al Capone, if you want to call him a Crime Boss, that's your business; He prefers Fixer.
In the troubled days of the Clone Wars, propaganda and HoloNet communications took on a major aspect for both sides. The Republic had seized control over the original and 'legitimate' HoloNet, and censored and removed Seperatist content while broadcasting their own propaganda.
Approximately nine months after Geonosis, the Separatists were able to gain access to the HoloNet via hyperwave transceivers and nodes spread through the galaxy with the help of their expert slicers and technicians. With this new found technology and infrastructure, in order to combat the new threat of the Republic and fight the propaganda war, the Seperatists established the CIS Shadowfeed, an alternative HoloNet platform for Seperatist content, communications and broadcasts. These shadowfeed were used by the Separatist Alliance to spread propaganda in favor of the Separatists or against the Galactic Republic during the Clone Wars.
Attempts to shut down the Shadowfeed proved fruitless, even after the ruthless and cunning Wilhuff Tarkin, was was made responsible for counterintelligence to shut down his Shadowfeed. Inevitably however, for a time after the fall of Murkhana, the Shadowfeed went mostly silent as the Seperatist cause waned and the Clone Wars entered its dying days.
After the rise of the Empire, however, the shadowfeed found new life. The Alliance to the Restore the Republic was among those who came to use the Shadowfeed to communicate under the nose of the Empire. Clu quickly came to realise that the shadowfeed and his unique access to former Seperatist personnel presented a powerful opportunity he could exploit.
Through the establishment of Shadowfeed and a network difficult for the Imperials to infiltrate and stop, Clu produced the 'Network'.
The three principles behind Clu's network are fairly simple ones:
Reciprocity; You scratch his back and he'll scratch yours. This is how he built up his connections across the galaxy and became a fairly notorious figure.
Clandestine; Members of the network should keep anonymity where possible, avoiding accidental implications or large sections of the network being busted. The true beauty of the structure of this crime firm and the usage of the shadowfeeds is in insulating himself, and its other members, from liability; it has proven impossible for the Imperials to pin anything on him, and there is a lot they don't realise he's involved in. Likewise, it's difficult for opposing organisations to eliminate the leaders or place bounties on the heads of important people. More often than not, they are reduced to targeting low level employs or associates, while the retribution of the Network can thus be targeted towards their prominent opponents. This makes engaging in confrontation with them difficult and undesirable, despite their comparative weakness on paper.
Cooperate with the big, competition with the small: While its inevitable that the Network would get drawn into competition with similar organisations, and as its operations expanded with smaller smuggling outfits or gangs, the Networks operations on a principle of avoiding infringing on the activities of large and powerful organisations. If the Hutts are running the smuggling in a region, the Network will not compete and rather work through the Hutts and give them a cut. If the Black Sun pirates have started raiding in a system, the Network will sell them the information on targets and depots instead in exchange for credits or else a share of the loot. By avoiding directly competing with larger and dangerous organisations and rather becoming an asset to them, the Network avoids being drawn into fights and disputes it cannot win and conducts business smoothly, while allowing it to compete with the smaller crime syndicates or swoop gangs that existed and slowly muscle them out to expand its territory.
Money is passed along the network, with each member taking their share for the contract or information. Many members of the network do not know the full implications of what they are involved in, or the ultimate identity of their benefactor outside of those they are in direct contact with. Thus the system is set up to be difficult to infiltrate or bring down, with direct communication with the higher ups only afforded to the most trusted. Many working within the network do not know the identies of those above them, nor the identities of other feeds. If a section of the Network is compromised, it is only a matter of cutting off that feed and, thus, section of the Network.
Few written documents or recordings are kept and Clu personally avoids any such thing, giving orders only verbally and in private. Money is laundered and cleared by other parts of the network, including front businesses.
The Network is by no means as powerful as the Hutt Cartel in any kind of direct power, and its main power lies in information gathering. That is not to say it does not have access to substantial assets, however; The knowledge and tjr contacts the organisation had means that the Networks influential figures are ultimately able to contract teams of mercenaries, pirate ships and find and use old Battledroids from the Clone Wars when the need arises, primarily within the outer rim where law enforcement struggles to crack down on such operations.
The number of 'firms' has varied over the years but there are about a dozen such firms active. Each firm has separate business dealings, though sometimes the dealings of the firms intermingle depending on their proximity to one another and the commonality of their ventures. Information is passed between these firms, including contact information for mercenaries and bounty hunters, ensuring lucrative contracts and work for those who have proven themselves. Hence the 'Network'.
The leader of a firm is known as the Director. All major decisions are made by the Director, and money made by the Firm ultimately flows to him. The Directors authority is needed to resolve disputes and keep everyone in line. Collectively, the directors form the Board, headed by the Chairman. The chairman knows the identities of each of the Directors, and some directors know each others identities, though some are very mysterious figures even to other members of the board who keep their distance. Anonymity is a useful tool to many figures in the Network, insulating them both from assassination attempts from their enemies or overly ambitious employs, as well as from potential law enforcement agencies.
Just below the Director is the majordomo, a term taken from Hutt Cartels and Palace staff. The majordomo is the second in command of a Firm, and organises the lieutenants. If a lieutenant breaks the strict operating procedures or code of conduct of the Network, the majordomo will have him eliminated.
Beneath the Majordomo are several lieutenants. The number of lieutenants varies depending on the overall size of the firm. A lieutenant leads his own section of the firm, referred to as a 'feed' as they often control their own Shadowfeed and take contacts, take contracts and pass along information in this manner. They each have a number of soldiers beneath them. If a Lieutenant believes his feed to be compromised, he will kill his feed and either start a new one, or if he believes his own identity is compromised, will go into hiding until he is contacted by the Majordomo. He has specific activities that he operates, most often in the field of information but occasionally lieutenants, particularly on the outer rim, are engaged in more traditional organised crime. The lieutenants territory may be defined geographically in these cases, by the particular business he operates. The lieutenant keeps some of the money he earns, ensures the soldiers are paid, and then passes the rest up to the majordomo and director.
The "dirty work" is done by the employs. An employ is the lowest rank among the Network. They're part of the Firm, but they hold little power and make relatively (though still not insubstantial) little money. The number of employs that belong to any given lieutenant can vary tremendously; On the outer rim, there tend to be far more of these men who are retained as muscle and enforcers, whereas in the core worlds they are fewer and far more clandestine. Employs do not often know the identity of the Lieutenants they work for, and payments and dead drops are handled by these employs, especially junior ones. As a rest, when Network operations or agreements go south, relatively little information can be gleaned from him and the network remains operational. If a feed is compromised, trusted Employs may be recruited into a new feed by the lieutenant. Otherwise, they quickly find themselves cut off from their former network for security purposes (referred to euphemistically as 'laid off', contrasted with the euphemism of 'dismissal' for killing off a member of the network, usually for breaking the code of conduct or being an informant). Some of these former employs may prove their loyalty again and ultimately be brought back into the firm, others will be too suspect and deliberately kept at arms length.
In addition to soldiers, the Firm will use associates. Associates are not actual members of the Firm, but they work with them on various criminal enterprises. An associate is simply someone who works with the firm, including anyone from a burglar, thug, spice and arms dealers, smugglers. More rarely this includes officials, security officers or even imperial military personnel who are paid off or pass information along to soldiers for extra money or favours. Indeed, a few imperials in the outer rim owe their suspiciously effective service records to buying and selling favours and information with the Network. More often than not, especially when they are hired muscle, the associates do not know the full details of who they are working for, in order to avoid infiltration by law enforcement or rival organisations.
The results of all these systems, structures and methods ultimately produces something which, in practice, is akin to the Muun themselves who shied away from physical pursuits and sought economic means, as well as alternative avenues of protection, to defend their planet from being invaded. As one would find fitting for a former Intergalactic Banking Clan employee, the Network uses information, economics and other alternative means such as battle droids and mercenaries to defend themselves from being brought into costly gang wars or losing territory.
Dead body? No problem. Evidence need taken care off? It's never gonna see the light of day again. Political scandal? Say no more. Criminal activity been exposed? He'll have you looking like a saint. Need something moved through customs? It's already there. Need a false ID? He'll have it before you can say 'John Doe'
A favour here or there, some good PR and words in the right places and your problems are gone
Clu Zanith doesn't need to trick you, indeed, he would never cheat on a contract. No, instead he is remarkably persuasive and has an astounding business acumen; transactions are his bread and butter, and he can cut a deal to work his way out of almost any problem. Leave him alone in market for a day with a shopping list, and he'll come back with everything on the list and some pocket change besides. If you need negotiations for the best deal, Zanith will slide in with his snake tongue to make it happen.
The Muun are naturally very intelligent and calculating, and Clu Zanith even more so than most. This has many implications; he's practically a walking prediction maker, his talent with money and people stemming from his species innate ability to process complex mathematical formulas or analyse statistical data with speed and ease. Short of a calculator, Clu is as good as they come and with the capacity for problem solving and quick thinking, he is able to make and pull off many complex plan, even branching across into fields which one might not initially suspect he would be skilled in.
This produces a very adaptable individual, and when he puts his mind to a task he can quickly get the hang of it and begin to develop a deeper understanding of the subject. This is particularly true when it comes to matters which include mathematics, but also holds true of more general learning.
| {Force Abilities} |
N/A
| {Limitations} |
Although he would never break a contract, he leaves it entirely obvious that his services are open to the highest bidder. As incredibly as his people bankrole both the Empire and the Rebellion at the same time, Zanith is more than willing to play multiple sides and switch to save his own skin or simply because they make a better business prospect. A Muun will never cheat you... But they will take you for everything you've got. Use exact words, and you'll be fine. Leave wriggle room, and you might find a certain Muun growing richer even as everyone else grows poorer...
Clu Zanith is not at all interested in being loyal to the death and is rather open about this. You can't do business if you're dead, after all. In a fight, he prefers to hide behind B-22 or failing that run away and duck behind something very big and sturdy rather than stand and fight.
Clu Zanith is physically frail, below the human average for certain. Close combat in particular is far from this bankers expertise, and he is heavily reliant on droids and others to do his dirty work.
| {Personality} |
On the face of it, Clu Zanith fits the stereotype of a Muun almost to the letter; Highly intelligent (The first percentile of Muun test takers for his year, as he's eager to remind anyone who'll listen) and cautious but exceptionally greedy and fixated on finances, one could be forgiven for wondering exactly why this Muun isn't sitting behind a desk back in the IGBC collecting a bankers bonus rather than out among mercenaries.
In truth, he has always had a strong entrepreneurial streak and was always far less shut in than most of his compatriots. He inherited his mother's talents for low cunning, and this served him well over the years. Clu Zanith holds an almost religious respect for contracts, like most Muun- but when it comes to law? Well, he didn't agree to it! It's only a contract if you agree to it, and since didn't sign, he's free to break whichever laws he sees fit to break (except, of course, those he agrees to follow)
This black market dealer and information broker is terrifyingly well connected, and he is unafraid to say so and cloak himself in it; If you have a problem, no matter how big, it's quite likely Clu Zanith can help you... But if Clu Zanith has a problem with you, then you will likely find yourself high and dry fairly quickly. Naturally, this has led to him being arrogant, proud and self-assured, often making him an annoyance that cannot be intimidated into silence despite his inherently cowardly nature.
And it is a very cowardly nature at that; Clu cannot fight to save his life, quite literally. When it comes to combat, he's a walking lump and is under no illusions he's anything but. He's much more inclined to throw his hands up in the air and run away screaming for his droid to save him than he is to actually use his blaster, and the rare occasions he does use his blaster he tends to be a passable shot best and useless melee combatatant. That said, he'll follow his contracts through to the end in spite of himself, even if the difficulty or danger of said contract is ramped up substantially.
Practically a walking calculator, Clu Zanith bases his decisions primarily on what outcomes he judges to be most probable. Like all Muun, he will consider a business agreement very carefully before he agrees to it (Indeed, if he is quick to strike the deal, it probably you've just been horribly ripped off). Your own actions and behaviour is being scrutinised, and if you make a threat, there has best be a decent probability you actually mean it because if he doesn't think it probable, it won't stick.
His primary motive in life, before anything else, is to make money. It doesn't matter how, particularly, and the general morality of it doesn't particular concern him so long as he's doing good business and making good money. He financed and armed both sides of a galactic war simply because it made him money... And he still, to this day, happily sells his arms and services to both Imperial governors and the Rebellion like an unpredictable genie from hell. He isn't entirely immoral, of course, its just that his moral compunctions can almost always be overcome by a decent enough stack of credits. Indeed, his unwavering commitment to making credits is so rampant and uncontrollable that he has even ripped apart his own loving relationships and friendships in pursuit of money. That this behaviour has caused periods of extreme misery to him is not lost on him, but it is never enough to make him stop. If there is one pleasure above all others, it is feeling he gets as he watches the credits in his account jump up after a successful deal.
He can be very charismatic and knows how to project a specific image; He can come across as friendly, amicable, good natured... Yet at the same time despite a rather unassuming figure and being unskilled in combat himself, Clu can project a powerful presence when he wants to. When he walks into a room, trailed by his Battledroid and whatever other bodyguards happen to be with him at the time, one quickly gets the impression that they are dealing with someone who is not to be crossed or angered, an aura of power surrounding him.
Despite all this, he adheres to a strict personal code of ethics (and expects those in his employment to do the same) as a necessary part of business; There are no court sof arbitration in the criminal underworld, the first and last judge, and a very harsh one at times, is reputationget a bad reputation, and you're done for.
| {Place of Origin} |
Clu Zanith was born in an upper class suburbia in Muunilinst to a family with connections to both the IGBC and the Criminal underworld. He had a stable and privileged upbringing, coupled with the best education money can buy and wanting for nothing. This culminated with his taking of the rigorous Muun examinations which ultimately catapulted him even higher into the upper classes of the strict technocratic hierarchy of Muun society.
| {Background} |
Lesson one, my boy; Your conscience won't make you money.
Clu Zanith was burn on Muunilinst to an affluent family connected to the criminal underworld and the IGBC; they were rich financiers who laundered money and funded criminal activities through their banking clan, ensuring vast profits and returns for themselves. Wanting for nothing in life and with a heavy focus on education from his family, Clu Zanith did not have to struggle with the rigors of common life or the pressure most of the galaxy faced. The Muun are not often travelers, and so he spent most of his childhood confined to what was effectively two blocks of a city in Muunilinst.
Indeed, he had very little exposure to the lower classes of society until he was 13, when his mother took him under armed guard down into the undercity of Coruscant, through the old abandoned factory districts. It was the first of several lessons, designed to teach the young Muun the arts of business... And, naturally, the intent was to scare him, to show him what lay at the bottom of society for those who did not work hard and achieve - and it did just that, not a day went by when Clu did not have his head buried in a holocron, studying endlessly.
But it also placed a seed of hunger inside him; He had watched as his mother closed a deal with a very shady looking Rodian, and less than a galactic standard month later, the family possessed a new, top of the range luxury Yacht class that his mother used to host other clients and close agreements, and the rest of the wealth ended up reinvested into ever more lucrative prospects. That the shady looking Rodian had just brought arms to continue his swoop war with a rival gang and thus expand the deathsticks market at the same time as Clu's father was buying up shares in medical treatment centres on Coruscant and charging upwards of 3500 credits for treatment of deathstick addiction was immaterial: If you want to be truly wealthy, you must be willing to overrule your morals. It is difficult to calculate for certain the human cost Clu's mother and father had in that one action alone, but it certainly couldn't have been a pretty one.
After this, Clu was increasingly assisting with the calculations of his families assets and subsequently their business decisions. Everyone knew he was intelligent by now and his assistance was invaluable.
The first rule of business; A contract is a contract.
Like most Muun looking to make a name for themselves in life, it came to pass that Clu took the extremely rigorous tests and examinations Muun society placed upon their children. Scoring in the first percentile, he was fast tracked into the InterGalactic Banking Clan. His exceptional performance caused a rift between him and his older brother when Clu passed him over for employment early in his career working for the IGBC.
The Muun system is extremely technocratic and the results of this examination ultimately determined his class within the social hierarchy. His result was a shock, naturally, even those who are intelligent would rarely dare to venture that they might be within the top one percent of those who take the tests.
With a life path to the upper management of the IGBC effectively ensured so long as he continued on with his diligence, this young up and coming financier soon found himself in the lap of luxury and power; while still early in his career, he had a strong starting wage with great prospects for the future. He ran through a several lovers during this early period as he sought a stable and lasting relationship, but proved unable to balance work and love particularly well.
His power and influence continued to grow and before long a powerful banking clan executive, San Tanuth, took a shining to Clu and became his mentor. They worked long on hard on promising prospects, lending money to many of the galaxies businesses and growing fat off the interest. Deciding on good investment opportunities was key to their operations and many a night was spent drawing up complex predictions and discussing cautiously which businesses deserved their funding.
Indeed, this was as far stretching as involving the backing of entire new currencies, which the IGBC did regularly and recouped massive gains from. Their holdings extended far past Republic space and every new nation which formed, new conglomerate which grew and new species that was encountered needed a currency and access to trade routes... And the IGBC was eager to exploit these new customers for every last drop of wealth they were worth.
It was within this time that the two of them built a strong working relationship with him which lasted past Clu's involvement with the IGBC, the two exchanging favours to this day.
Kuat is a beautiful planet. So much business, so much industry...
It was one of these favours, of sorts, which led to a major romantic entanglement for Clu and one of the most important chapters of his life, simultaneously one of the happiest and ultimately the most tragic.
The Muun detest wasteful spending, however many other races find such extravagance to be important displays of wealth and privilege. This made such engagements important places for finding contacts in the business world, and while bankers can always wait for others to approach them, it was not uncommon for more proactive members of the IBGC such as San Tanuth to send representatives scouting for lucrative new start ups or business partners. So when San Tanuth used his influence to ensure that Clu was invited to a gathering of a rich Coruscantian executive, Clu expected to come away from it with new friends in high places and several new prospective... Instead, he came away from it with his three hearts quite smitten with a human woman he had spoken to at great length. Kalara Knylenn from a wealthy aristocratic Kuati noble family, the two became romantically involved and used each others connections to advance their ends; Kalara established a new subsidiary of the Kuat Drive yards and Clu used his connections within the IGBC to credit it and secure a start up loan.
This subsidiary grew rapidly under Kalara and Clu's joint control and the IGBC continued to credit the start up throughout the period. Clu ensured preferential rates for loans and exploited legal loopholes to allow the two to reduce tax rates on their contracts. Before long, Clu had made his first million.
Disaster struck, however; Unaccustomed to Kuat and with only inoculations to protect him, Clu became stricken with a disease during his time there inspecting the business. Quickly confined to bed and tended to by a large team of doctors, Kalara was left fending for herself. At the same time, representatives of the Republic opened an audit into the business. Fearing the worst was to come of the financial brains behind the operation and worried that Clu's tax avoiding ways would be exposed, the IGBC began to call in some of its loans to make its money back and the business began to buckle.
Fortunately, Clu Zanith recovered from his illness although one of his three hearts was left considerably weakened by the ordeal. Contacting San Tanuth, Clu secured an extension on the loans and Kalara had successfully fabricated evidence that made their tax avoidance seem perfectly legitimate. Against all odds, the two had survived the nightmare and in the next year, the business grew even more.
Clu continued to manage the underbelly of the business as well and before long their products were finding their way into the hands of gangs and criminals. Indeed, Clu took advantage of the gangs of Balmorra to acquire industrial secrets from the companies rival and undermine Balmorran Arms monopoly on the planet, expanding his and Kalara's business into the factories there.
I can't blame them for it. It was just good business. Her, on the other hand... I have never met someone more terrifying or odious in my life.
It was during this foray into the underworld that disaster chose to strike again. One of the Swoop Gang leaders who Clu Zanith had been working with and supplying, Jana Undera, developed a romantic interest in him and made an advance. Clu turned her down... Which angered her deeply. Feeling spurned, she stopped working with him and her behaviour spun entirely in a way that Clu found rather shocking and probably belied some underlying mental instability.
Jana was a large and powerful woman with the physique of a Wookie. She'd clawed her way up the leadership of a gang by a combination of low cunning and brute force, and was a woman seemingly without a conscience. Violent, antisocial, rebellious and with a short fuse, remarkably easy to anger and very slow to calm down. That said, even Clu could not have predicted just how long this woman bore grudges.
Indeed, not only did she physically beat him down and throw him out of her hideout when he attempted to speak with her about unfinished business, she proceeded to inform his competitors in Balmorran arms about one of his plans to acquire the plans to their latest battle droid series.
It did not take Clu long to make the connection, then, when the following year Kalara was found dead under suspicious circumstances. It was difficult to say for sure whether it had been Jana or another rival, but Clu personally believed it was Jana's doing. She had been getting increasingly violent towards him and by now he feared for his own life.
To say losing Kalara devestated him would have been an understatement. It hit him hard, very hard. But Muun do not like to express their emotions publically, or even openly at all; They prefer to think of themselves as reserved and in control of their emotions. Crying then was an unthinkable show of weakness remarkably un-Muun. Despite half of the instincts in his body wanting to lock himself in his room and fall into a sobbing rage, and the other half wanting to throw everything he could at Jana, the Muun ultimately felt compelled to bare it and continue with business as usual.
That said, Clu was never above vengeance and despite himself, he increasingly armed Jana's rivals at discount rates, and before long Jana's swoop gang was losing ground all across Balmorran. At the time, he didn't even consider that in the long run that might make their vendetta even worse. How could he have?
Understandably, House Kynlenn was extremely concerned and sent one of their own to investigate. Kalara's grandmother, with whom Clu had never previously had a particularly strong relationship, took pity on the broken hearted Muun and the two connected over Kalara's memory. Talara Kynlenn's word served to sway the investigation away from Clu who had been a favoured target by some of the more xenophobic members of House Kynlenn despite his obvious devestation over the loss of Kalara. Unfortunately, no concrete evidence was ever found for the identity of Kalara's murderer and officially the case went cold a year later, with no leads. Despite having been rescued from the courts by the intervention of the Kynlenn matriarch, rumours spread by his enemies did not subside and Clu's public image on Kuat, for a time, became smeared and horribly warped.
At the same time, Kalara and Clu's business was now under attack from almost all sides. While the Kynlenn Matriarch had befriended Clu, she did not hold ultimate power over the family and there was little incentive for her to fight her own blood when Kalara's sister, Runa, opened a legal challenge over the inheritance of the business. Under Kuati tradition, she claimed, the ownership of her sisters business which had ultimately been registered in Kalara's name should pass to her, and not to Clu to whom Kalara had never formally married nor had any bond of blood. The lack of a will likewise proved a decisive factor in the case and it became increasingly difficult for Clu to retain control over his late lovers business.
Meanwhile, Balmorran Arms was pushing to reclaim its monopoly on Balmorra. The conglomerate pushed against the smaller industrial subsidiary and with Clu still beside himself with grief, the Kynlenn family now more focused on seizing the assets of the business for themselves and one of his most important contacts in the underworld actively working against him and entirely ablaze in a destructive swoop war that would ultimately claim nearly 900 lives, his actions to defend the business were half hearted and not entirely effectual.
Having by now recognised how emotionally compromised he was and the adverse effect his own lust for vengeance was having on his business, at Clu's request, the IBGC sent an administrator, a fellow Muun known as Urd Galon to help manage the business and ultimately reclaim money for the Banking Clan. Together, they managed to keep the business solvent and establish a weak but ultimately positive growth trajectory for the business, selling off the assets on Balmorra to Balmorran arms and restructuring to focus entirely on their Kuati holdings. Despite Clu's lust for vengeance, Urd made him cut off the arms and funding to Balmorran and although Clu sold all information on Jana and her gang he could to the local police, he was left unable to pursue his own vendetta against her.
Knowing that without the protection and connections of Kalara in Kuati high society the business was ultimately going to be absorbed into the holdings of one of the Kynlenn family in one way or another, Clu and Urd came up with a scheme to recoup at least some of the losses. Seven years after its founding, Clu signed over all his shares and assets of Kalara Industries to Talara Kynlenn specifically, mostly as one final sneer towards Runa and as a gesture of goodwill and thanks towards the Kynlenn matriarch. He was financially reimbursed, of course, but the cost of the shares was no where near as high as they had been several years earlier. Clu left Kuat, which he had ultimately come to regard as his second home, with a heavy heart and deep regret. He returned with Urd to Muunilinst where he repaid his outstanding loans to the IGBC and entered their employment again under his old mentor Sun Tanith.
The Senate? Ordinarily, they are insane, but they have lucid moments where they are only stupid.
Distancing himself from where he and Kalara had spent their time helped a lot with his mental state and he slowly began to move on. He settled back in to the life of the finacier for a short while but before long San Tanith had reassigned him to the distant world of Coruscant to assist the IGBC senator. The Seperatist crisis was brewing and it was decided that his the skills he had honed working with Kalara would be better used on Coruscant, helping to manipulate and turn the Galactic Senate into a tool for the IBGC to further its own business interests.
Clu and Urd traveled together to Coruscant where they quickly set about establishing an information network and playing the political game. They made problems disappear for the Senator and ensured that their opponents became embroiled in political scandals, or else used dirt to lean on senators to vote the way the IGBC required. They also build up a powerful connection in the Coruscant Security Force.
As though some kind of personal tradition at this point, he once again found a lover on Coruscant, this time a fellow Muun who was an attache to the Senator named Meerus. During this time, Clu began to invest his wealth in lending to arms businesses, the Techno-Union and many other assorted businesses that would undoubtedly profit from the war that was now in its infancy.
It seemed that with a new lover, his increasing political prominence on Coruscant, the trust the IGBC put in him and the potential to launch a new, successful business that would profit from the inevitable fighting, Clu Zanith had his future set for him.
Like a horrible spectre from his past, however, Jana Undera had made her way to Coruscant. That this "psychotic bitch" had made her way across half the galaxy after him scared him deeply and he stepped up security around himself and his lover, fearing a repeat of events on Kuat.
Though this move ultimately came from a good place, it caused romantic problems between them, as Meerus felt that Clu was overreacting and felt increasingly caged in the CSF and Clu's private guards. Jana was able to contact Meerus and convince her that Clu had been the one in the wrong and had scorned her after cheating on Kalara, that Clu could not be trusted and was intensely jealous. Portraying herself as a friend seeking only to protect tother from Clu's avarice, Jana convinced Meerus to leave Clu and publically call him out for his behaviour.
As Jana had undoubtedly intended, this sudden betrayal caused a horrible scandal and wounded Clu deeply. The Senator dismissed his attache, though found Clu's services far too valuable to dismiss. Instead, he instructed Clu to do what Clu did best and make the scandal disappear into smoke.
Fighting a war is bad. But financing a war is just good business.
As the scandalous results of Jana's medelling died down, it was decided that it would be best for Clu to sink into the background for a while and begin to work behind the scenes. He continued to work for the senator and as the war began to heat up, his work took on an ever more martial aspect and began to increasingly involve communications with the Seperstist cause. On several occasions, he even commanded battle droids or mercenaries for the Seperatists, and on one occasion even advised a Republic officer. During this time, he even ended up becoming the close friend of the leader of a Trandoshan Hunting Guild, the Rockscale Clan, who sold their services as mercenaries.
He ordered in his own battle droids, and had them seperated from the CIS network of control, not trusting the Neimoidians or the Techno Union with his own security. By the time of the battle of Geonosis, Clu Zanith already had his own private army of B1 Battle droids, Trandoshan Mercenaries and even droidekas, and happily rented them out to any and every side in the conflict that proved willing to pay: Republic worlds, CIS worlds, Hutts, private corporate interests. All that mattered was that one would pay.
The introduction of the GAR closed one door and opened another; the Republic worlds no longer required such widespread assistance of mercenaries and while some on the edges of space continued to contract him for initial defence against CIS incursions, the contracts began to dry up as Clone Troopers were rushed to the front and began to garrison planets. The battle lines were drawn and it became increasingly clear that war was inevitable
But as some doors close, others began to open; armies require vast amounts of fuel and ships to carry them around, they require food and ammunition. And clones are expensive. So while this was occurring, he and the IGBC were playing banker to both the CIS and the Galactic Republic. Indeed, Clu Zanith was one of the many figures working in the background to pursuade, bribe and blackmail senators into voting for the deregulation of the Banking clans and loans, allowing the IGBC to hike the interest rates on loans to both factions up from 10% to an extortionate 25%. On the night that the Republic ordered another five million clone troopers, Clu Zanith was positively drunk on greed and in it for every credit he could squeeze out of the war.
While Mak Plain worked to secure the new rate with the Republic on Coruscant, Clu was sent to meet with the Seperatists. Fear mongering about the Republics jingoism in the senate following the false flag attack on Coruscant infrastructure, Clu was able to force enough of those Seperatists who were holding out on the hopes of peace to begrudgingly accept the new loans and order in millions more battle droids. Remarkably, the Inter Galactic Banking Clan was now bankrupting both the Confederacy of Independent Systems and the Galactic Republic, intending to try and slave these two entities into a near perpetual stay eof debt and playing off of their fears of each other to prolong the conflict and encourage more borrowing.
Of course, publically he decried the war and found it a distasteful waste of sentient life. He even funded and attempted to head negotiations between the two sides. Deep inside, however, there was a black part of him that was glad the war was going on, and while one half of him was upset whenever peace talks fell through, the other half of him leapt for joy. War is a great time for business, not least because it is the time for the money lenders to sow seeds but also because the best time to buy new assets cheap is when there is blood flowing through the streets. Indeed, no sooner had a siege begin upon a planet than Clu Zanith would swoop in and buy up vast tracts of land, assets and real estate at discount prices from refugees, who could then afford to pay his transports to get them off world to safety. Then, once the war left the planet and moved elsewhere, property prices would rise quickly again and whatever survived the war would more than make back the cost of those which didn't.
As long as everyone was at war, everyone had to keep lending. As long as everyone was at war, everyone had to keep buying arms. As long as everyone was at war, they could be kept in debt in perpetuity. The sad thing about the banking trade was that the IGBC never wanted anyone to actually pay off their debt. Keeping the Republic and the CIS laden in debt was what kept them rich and powerful.
"25 percent is obscene, Muun!" The Neimoidian spat as Clu Zanith clasped his hands gently together, peering to the other members of the small Seperatist Committee with a small smile. The Neimoidian was practically pink with fury, it didn't help that the large windows behind Clu cast his tall shadow over the committee. "Your previous rates sat at 10%."
"Ah, but that was before the galactic deregulation my friend. The old rates don't apply. The Republic are being presented with the exact same rate increase - and as you know, they are currently in a frenzy about that terrorist attack. They will accept it, and fund 5 million more clone troopers." Clu spoke calmly with a hypnotic voice and an amicable smile, placing the emphasis so as to accentuate the Republic threat. He could see the sudden wave of worry that overtook the Seperatists at the thought of even more clone troopers coming for them. There was a murmuring from one of the delegates, before his friend next to him spoken up.
"That attack was not our doing! We have offered peace and assured the Republic that we had nothing to do with it!" A human senator protested. Clu looked at him with false sympathy, taking a step towards him and laying a hand gently on the man's shoulder
"My friend, they voted for the deregulation in a fit of nationalist rage so they could secure more credit. I have no doubt that the attack was a false flag, most likely by the highest echelons of the Republic Grand Army, or else by the Jedi Knights themselves, but the consequences stand. The Republic is sending more clone troopers for you." He said in a sympathetic tone, leaning in towards the Seperatists and looking to them each in turn. His finality had clearly managed to convince them that the Republic were indeed coming. Good, their fear would allow him to push this through, even if right now they were not entirely forthcoming.
"We have been on time with all our debt payments to the Banking Clan, we have acquiesced to all your demands and deregulated you within our holdings as well, and now you present us with this outrageous ultimatum or else you will throw us to the Rancors?" A Gossam representative said, almost in disbelief as he shook his head from side to side, clasping a hand to his face.
"Don't look at it that way, this is just good business. If it were up to me, I'd give you a lower interest rate, but I'm afraid this is just out of my hands. The Republic is already preparing to sign this bill into law, you really don't have the time to delay." Clu said as he clasped his hands together before him, eyeing the Gossam up and down. The Banking Clan did only what it had agreed to, at the end of the day this was just good business.
"Blast you, Clu Zanith, blast you and your blasted Banking Clan. We accept your terms." The Lyakian said at last, seizing the stylus from the desk and scribbingly the signature onto the touch screen. of the data pad. Clu grinned eagerly as he did, brushing off the insuly and reaching for his holoterminal
"It is a pleasure to do business. Have a nice day, Senator Kaluss." Clu said with a poisoned sweetness, watching as several of the other delegates added their signatures to the bill and filled out the room one by one, wearing disgusted looks on their faces.
Clu grinned greedily as they did, this had been easier than he expected. The Republic and the Confederacy were so terrified of each other that it was child's play to convince them of the necessity of more soldiers and more equipment.
No soon had they left than Clu turned away from the door, clicked on the holoterminal and contacted San Tanuth. The ghostly blue figure flickered into existence on the holo terminal, sitting behind a large desk with his hands wrapped around a datapad.
"Have the Seperatists accepted the new rate, Zanith?" The hologram of his mentor asked over the HoloNet, the distortion of the HoloNet compounding the nasaly voice. Clu adjusted the volume slightly to make it quieter as the Muun spoke, and when he finished, Clu nodded lightly, interlacing his fingers and leaning forwards towards his mentors hologram
"Indeed they have." Clu replied, pride rippling through his voice.
"Good, good... I will inform the others, we can use this to leverage the Republic into accepting the rate increase." San Tanuth's hologram moved to tap something into a data pad
"And the droids you said you'd secure for me?" Clu pushed with a small grin on his face; He knew that securing this rate hike would more than pay for the cost of the Cortosis weave battle droids, the true difficulty in acquiring them had been their exclusivity, with only one factory currently capable of producing these 'Jedi Killers' as they had become labeled.
"I promised you a squad, and you shall have a squad, unslaved from the CIS network as your requested. The Techno Union was unsettled by that request. It may take me a few weeks to get them to acquiesce. If they will not, I shall acquire the droids and explore alternates methods of decoupling them." San Tanuth said slowly, peering back at his close friend and ally.
They would make an excellent collection to his private army...
He was present in the command room of a Seperatist force during the events of Order 66, as its main commander had been sent to Mustafar instead. The sudden deactivation of most of the Seperstist Droid army under that command took Clu and the organic Seperatistsoff guard and threw the other Seperatists with him into a panic. His own personal battle droids, which included an expensive squadron of C-B3 battle droids that served as his body guards, remained active and he begrudgingly took command of what remained of the Seperatist forces and tries to carve a path forwards.
All but one of the C-B3s was was destroyed in the ensuing battle as Clu held off an overwhelming horde of Imperial Clone Troopers while evacuating the planet. Amongst the evacuees he counted Nima Diakoyi, Padawan Learner to the missing and presumed dead Master Zaruc Kan. Having escapes from the troopers who had turned during Order 66, Nima Diakoyi formed an uneasy alliance with Clu and his small detachment of droids to get themselves and the remaining civilian personnel of both the Republic and the Seperatists off of the planet and away from the Clone Troopers.
The ensuing battle had been notably swift. Dramatically outnumbered, the small force of battle droids didn't stand a chance against the overwhelming might of the Empire. The C-B3s faired better but without heavy support it was only a matter of time before the Imperial armour rolled over them. Still, with some clever planning and Nima's insights into the Clones plans and thinking, they were able to hold back the tide for long enough that they were able to evacuate. It was a desperate plan and its success was not entirely expected and not smooth (indeed, at one point Clu himself had to use a blaster rifle to help ward off a fireteam of Clone troopers who had somehow broke in through the outer ring of defences and tried to attack the transports directly)
Some of the transports were shot down by imperial fighters and the mostly inert Seperatist fleet in orbit was no longer able to mount an effective resistance or provide strong fire support to the escaping ships. It did provide a screen for those ships once they made it close enough, however, allowing them cover for long enough to make the necessary calculations to escape from the system
Clu Zanith placed his fingers together lightly as he peered over the tactical screen from behind the chair, sighing heavily and pinching the bridge of his nose.
Why, oh why, had they left the Banker and some Neimoidian grubs in charge while they ran off to their little meeting on Mustafar? Insanity!
Still, the battle seemed to have come to standstill for now. It had been for some time, in fact, his job mostly comprised of sitting here watching a screen where nothing happened for vast periods of time, occasionally shuffling around a few droids. The enemy general, Jedi Master Zaruc Kan, had been content to allow the Seperatists to smash up against the Republic positions like water upon Rock. Clu had not intent of bleeding droids in a pointless offensive like that, instead he had chosen to establish more defensive positions and hold the line. The Republic had made one counter offensive, that had been repulsed fairly quickly and hadn't attempted a new move since.
"Zanith, we've a transmission coming through from Mustafar." A Neimodian said as he peered away from the comms console. Probably the expected announcement of victory. Clu sat back and folded his arms, shrugging his shoulders to the Neimodian across the room.
"Let it play." Clu said, and the grub like alien danced it's fingers over the terminal with the grave and deliberation of a sleepwalker. Clu turned his attention towards the holoterminal, expecting a message to play.
Instead, he heard a series of sudden clanks beside him, a dreadful, echoing racket. Clu shot up out of his seat like a bullet, turning to see most of the droids in the room had simply doubled over and collapsed.
"It's - the shutdown signal." The Neimodian said with wide eyes, standing from his seat. Clu glared at him out of the corner of his vision.
"Congratulations, General Obvious. Bring them back on line, we're not done here." Clu clenched his fists tightly as he advanced towards the large window of the spire, peering down to the rows of deactivated droids below, frantic tapping coming from behind him.
"I can't! It's the master signal!"
"Whose bright idea was that?!" Clu said in exasperation, reaching for his holocommunicator and activating it.
A droid appeared on the other end, scratching its metal head with one hand. OOM A-75, one of the droids from his own personnel contingent. It was fortunate to see, at least, that his demand they have all CIS controls stripped out of them had been complied with.
"Master, the CIS droids appeared to have shut down. The Clones haven't made a move yet but we've got confirmed reports of rifle fire."
"I Know, '75. Fall all your droids back to the citadel, I'll be sending you defensive positions."
"Roger Roger." The Droid said as the ghostly blue hologram disappeared. Clu turned back towards the Neimodian, glowering at him.
"Can you contact Mustafar?" The Muun demanded
"I'm trying, they're not responding, I-"
"Incoming targets!" Another voice called from across the room and Clu turned his attention towards the window again, seeing a pair of LAAT gunships flying directly towards them. He widened his eyes.
"Downstairs! Now!" He yelled as he turned and sprinted towards the turbo lift at the back of the room, throwing himself inside it and hitting the button swiftly. The doors closed behind him and a pair of Neimoidians, and the foundations of the building shook with explosions as they descended.
"We should have taken the stairs!" Insisted one of the Neimoidians. Clu knew he was right, but he wasn't about to admit it right now, just hope that the damn elevator held.
The rumbling stopped although there was the defeating sound of explosions, and as the door flew open Clu darted out from it as quickly as he could, skidding to a halt in the courtyard. The smouldering ruin of an LAAT lay some ten meters away, and the other gunships appeared to be backing off.
"They are retreating?" One of the trio asked in surprised. They had more than enough firepower to wipe out the citadel, clearly the loss of one of their LAATs had spooked them. Clu's eyes widened slightly in sudden realisation
"They weren't expecting us to have any droids active. They knew what had happened almost as quickly as we did. That's not possible unless... The Seperatist Council is dead. Get the shuttles prepped for take off. We are not dying on this forsaken rock." He concluded with a disbelieving shake of his head, ripping out his holocron again...
***
Clu stood upon the parapet beside A-75, looking through the binoculars into the distance. There was definitely the sound of blaster fire, and flashes of light from within the Republic camp.
He furrowed his brow in confusion - then narrowed them again as he saw a mass make its way onto the road. He immediately feared clone troopers, but as he watched the blob make its way forward, he realised that it was a mass mostly of civilians and locla resistance fighters. They were heavily armed... And they were making their way towards the citadel.
"A-75, do we have any artillery left?"
"I have two droids manning a CIS AAT we spliced into."
"An AAT... Have it brought up to the gate, if that mob makes it to our gates, they're going to overrun with numbers alo- Wait" Clu paused and adjusted the settings on the binoculars as he saw a flash of blaster fire; Suddenly the column broke into a panic, rushing out alone the road as the resistance traded fire with Clone scout troopers. He saw the flash of a lightsabre. "Get out AAT out there now, and whatever STAPs we have."
"Uh, sir, even with an AAT we don't have the numbers to take all that in an offensive."
"We're not. We're going to help them with those speeders." Clu said as he lowered his binoculars and turned his attention towards A-75 "Deploy the strike force, lend what assistance you can. Help them get to our gets.
"Rodger Rodger." The OOM droid reported as it clamboured down from the parapet and signalled to the forces.
"This is a not a good idea." The Neimoidian objected again.
"We need time to get those transports fueled. That means we need to hold the line. Since most of our army has decided to take a nap, that means we need people. They either help or kill us, given our alternative, if you can call it that, is to be overrun with clone troopers, I'm willing to take that chance." Clu explained irritably, raising the binoculars again and peering out as he watched a Republic TX-130 roll into position and begin to open fire onto the ground.
The AAT went forth, supported by half a squadron of STAPs. It was a pathetic response, but fortunately the Clones didn't seem to have a full force chasing down this mob. Yet. There was the sight of more blaster fire as the CIS forces joined the freu on the side of the Mob, and with the heavy fire power to take down the TX-130, the tide began to change. The mob made its way down the road quickly towards the gate and Clu signalled for his droids to take up defensive positions along the wall, ready to fight if the mob tried to break its way in.
"Open this damn gate! We've got civilians, we need to get out of here now." A voice called up to him from the head of the mob. He peered down to a Twi'lek who clenched her fists in frustration, gritting her teeth
"And just who are you?"
"Nima Diakoyi, Padawan to Master Zaruc Kan."
"Jedi! This must be some kind of trick." The Neimoidian insisted. Clu looked up to the bodies strewn on the road for a moment and immediately dismissed that idea.
"I'll let you in, but our ships aren't fuelled. Most of our army is out of commission... We need to hold the line here. A-75, open the gate." Clu instructed. The Jedi nodded and turned back towards the crowd
"Everyone inside, now!"
***
The Clones had backed off temporarily after they'd been struck at the road, and it became apparent that it was a small force sent to harass the mob. He wasn't sure how much respite they had.
"I need to get back out there." Nima said to him as he stood atop the parapet again, watching the horizon.
"If you do, you're dead." Clu stated matter of factly, turning his vision towards her "Your master stayed behind, didn't he? That's what the clones are dealing with?"
Nima nodded simply, clutching her light sabre tightly in her hand
"He told me to get these people to safety. Off the planet. The only way left to do that now the Clones torched our ships was your shipyards."
"I don't suppose he thought we might not be inclined to share..." Clu commented wryly
"If I go now-" The Jedi began
"They'll kill you. Even if your master survives, he expected you to protect these people. They're not safe yet. We're going to need every hand we get on station to hold this place." Clu cut her off almost immediately with a firm shake of his head, turning towards her
"Master Zaruc will keep them at bay... How long do we need?" She asked.
"Six hours. The clones will start their offensive soon, whether they've dealt with your master or not. They know every second they wait is another second we've got to prepare." Clu explained as he looked out towards the horizon "Are your people in defensive positions?"
"We only have a few fighters, four dozen maybe, but yes." The Jedi said with a heavy rich, reaching up and grasping the bridge of her nose.
"There were hundreds of people in that column." Clu murmered as he peered back into the citadel courtyard, seeing the huddled mass of refugees. There grown men and women among them.
"Most are civilians." Nima objected almost immediately "We can't ask them to fight."
"They'll be dead civilians if they don't help us fight back." Clu replied as he clasped his hands in front of him. "We have hundreds of E-5 blasters lying around now. Arm everyone you can."
"Maybe they can help with the transports instead... The young at least."
"Of course. Now I won't lie to you; in all probability, most of the people here will not survive."
"I know. I've-" She paused for a moment and then bowed her head lightly. "I think my master..."
"I am sorry for your loss. We will mourn the dead later, for now-"
"That means they'll be coming." The Jedi looked up to him, a determined look on her face. Clu gave a weak nod of agreement and raised the binoculars again to the horizon.
***
Sure enough, less than half an hour the first wave of Clone troopers arrived. Clu and Nima had devised a plan to hold down the fortress consisting of three layers of defenses that they would slowly abandon over the course of several hours. At the Jedi's insistence, Clu's Battle Droids would always be the last to fall back, after the organics.
Given that he valued his own skin more than his droids, Clu complied.
The information the resistance refugees and the Jedi Padawan had brought about the GAR composition was useful for plotting the defence. Clu had his droids set mines along main road and they'd done what they could to bring as many AATs online, knowing they'd need the fire power to fight back the Republic TX-130s
The LAAT gunships were another matter all together. Clu's Cortosis battle droids, given they were armed with powerful and accurate double laser cannons, assisted by two manned Anti-Aircraft emplacements, became tasked with shooting them down.
He looked over the makeshift tactical module with the Jedi beside him, rubbing at his chin. Everything seemed to be holding, for now, but the first wave of clones was but a fraction of their main force. They were probing the defences, and Clu knew it.
"They want to know what we have." He murmered.
"Then we can't show them. Have your Cortosis droids hold their fire." Nima said as she folded her arms and looked at him. He furrowed his brow for a moment.
"No, we should out on a display of overwhelming force... It might delay their next attack." Clu countered as he linked his hands together "We can't hope to beat them, just hold off long enough to get out transport into the air."
"But the LAATs are going to be our main problem. They can bypass our defences, and even worse, they can take our transports down in the air. If we bait them in now and then shoot them down..." Nima explained as she pulled back the cloth of the tent and pointed to the horizon, blasters hopelessly engaging an LAAT.
"We might clip their wings and force them to withdraw. Not bad, Jedi." Clu replied as he reaches for his data pad and hit a series of commands into it. He paused for a moment and grinned, hitting another command and causing the C-B3s to enter a dormant state temporarily.
"What happened?"
"I've made them go dormant. I cna awaken them again quick enough, this will hide their presence from the Clones." Clu replied with a triumphant smile on his face. "Now we wait and hope they take the bait..."
"And that our people don't panic. I should amongst them, I can keep them steady." Nima replied a she grabbed her Lightsabre form her side. Clu looked at he mf hesitantly, realising that he was personally at his safest whole she was here in the command tent, but that the front really might crumble from morale problems if she didn't turn up.
"Watch for Sharpshooters." He warned, she gave a brief nod and disappeared out towards the walls, quickly sprinting across the courtyard faster than he would have deemed possible.
"This is getting out hand, now we are working with Jedi."
Clu ignored the comment and circled the command terminal, waiting for the LAATs to show up and keeping his hand wrapped firmly around his data pad.
Come on...
Come on...
There!
A dozen LAAT gunships diverged in their location suddenly, opening fire upon the droids and resistance fighters on the walls. Clu hit several buttons on the data pad, awakening the dormant C-B3s to join the fray. Sure enough, the sudden addition of powerful laser cannons firing upon the LAATs brought several down in flames. Clu watched as two crashed into each other as they desperately tried to avoid the sudden influx of enemy fire.
The remaining LAATs pivoted and beg a acquiring targets, trying to return fire. Clu watched in pain as he saw tow of his Cortosis battle droids be wiped out by heavy blaster cannons, but took pride in the focused fire of the remaining droids. Another pair of LAATs fell from the sky, and the gunships began to withdraw from the battle.
Clu watched the tactical display with interest; The gunships had withdrawn and suffered heavy losses, but not before one of the AA guns and two of the three AATs they had managed to get online had been wiped out. Trading fire with the TX-130s was going to become a losing with just the Cortosis droids for heavy weapons support.
***
By the third hour, they had fallen back to second line of defences, set up around the damaged citadel spire. Mines had been lain down within the courtyard, enough in number to make it difficult for any of the TX-130s to enter. This evened the field somewhat, but the Clone infantry were both numerous and ultimately superior.
That said, while they could scale the walls from the far side, far more would be forced to enter through the gate. To make matters worse the citadel had been designed for exactly this eventually; there was very little on the inner side of the walls, which meant that clone trooper would have to push into the courtyard to secure good cover amongst the ruins of the LAATs and the AATs. The watch towers on the wall had been detonated when they fell back to deny them to the Clone troopers.
"Sep!" The Jedi's voice came thundering towards him, and Clu turned from the holo terminal to peer towards her. "I thought we agreed the civilians could be evacuated first?!"
"What are you talking about?" Clu asked in confusion, looking back towards the holoterminal.
"Nute Gamander and the other Neimoidian, they have taken the first transport loaded up with themselves and what few droids they still had, and most of the fuel too..." Nima clarified and Clu blinked for a moment in disbelief.
"They did what?! Greedy Womp Rats!" Clu bellowed; all pretense of Muun reservedness had now gone out the window under the stress of battle and the unexpected double cross
"You're honestly telling me you had no idea about this?" Nima asked, her lightsabre still thrumming dangerously in her hand. Clu didn't expect the Jedi would use it on him, that wasn't the Jedi was after all, but right now it certainly didn't make him feel anymore comfortable.
"I don't break my agreements. How much fuel do we have left?" Clu said with a heavy sigh, his voice laced with frustration and shaking his head in annoyance
"We can fuel maybe half the transports..." Nima began, looking back out to the battle and then back to him.
"That's not going to be enough now..." Clu paused fot a moment, having a sudden realisation of where this conversation was about to go.
"Your droids are going to have to stay behind." The Jedi replied. Clu felt like he had been punched in the gut; He'd been hoping to make it off world with at least some of his droids, maybe even manage to snatch one of the CIS AATs whole they were at it. Now that seemed impossible.
But- some of these droids are very expensive... Oh if I ever see those Neimoidian slimes again... This time I will see to it personally. " Clu clenched his fist and slammed it down into the holoterminal
"Oh no you don't. You're staying here, and one of the resistance officers is handling the refuelling." The Jedi knight thrust a blaster rifle into Clu's hand impatiently.
"But- I'm a civilian!" Clu stammered as he fumbled aimlessly with the rifle. Was she intending to make him fight?! He was a banker, not a soldier! By all rights, he shouldn't even be here!
"No buts, your people just put us in this men and changed out agreement, you and me aren't leaving until everyone else has, so you're going to need that before we're done." The Jedi's tone, and the fact that they left the tent immediately after, made it quite clear that this was not open to debate.
Clu swallowed and turned his attention back towards the holo terminal, trying to keep his mind focused and push the fact that he was now going to be one of the last ones out.
Why did nobody in this galaxy keep their contracts?!
***
"Last one out, get the lights!" One of the fighters called back as they dashed towards the ship and scrambled on board. Clu hurried towards the landing pads as the remaining transports began to take off, running halfway up the lamp and turning to face over the battle field.
There remained only droids and clones now, the resistance had fled onto the ships and taken to the skies. Clu gave a pained luck to his droids as he despaired at the thought of leaving them all behind.
Well, all except the two droids who still flanked him: B-22 and B-27, the two surviving Cortosis weave Battle Droids. Those two he wasn't going to let be squandered.
"Where the blast is that Jedi?" One of the resistance soldiers asked, receiving a shushing from his officer who reached up to his commlink and spoke into it.
No more than a minute later, the Jedi's Lightsabre emerged again, a flash of turquoise in the crowd as she rushed around the corner towards the landing pad.
In hot pursuit however was a squad of four clone troopers... His Cortosis battle droids opened fire upon them, forcing them into cover, but Nima was forced to turn and defend herself, backing away and deflecting a rush of bullets.
With a blast of force energy, Nima sent two of the clones flying back into the frey, but Clu could already see his compatriots preparing to fire. She ducked down behind a block of concrete, pinned by the blaster fire as another trio of clones arrived to support their comrades.
There was no way she was going to be able to make it under that much pressure. Clu could hear the argument over the comms net as she told the ship to take off, only for the resistance to delay and trade fire. There was no way they were going to abandon her.
Clu raised his own blaster and took several shots, most of them went horribly wide. He advanced down from the platform with a shaky resolve, still flanked by his powerful C-B3, B-27, which began to push ahead as B-22 remained stationary aboard the ship, firing off blast after blast of laser cannons to devestating effect: one of the walls that sectioned off the courtyard from the landing pads was blasted out of existence, a pair of clone troopers flying several meters before landing dead on the floor.
The explosion revealed more of the fighting between the droids and clones, however, and another squadron of clones broke off to push towards the landing pad.
The C-B3 and Clu Zanith pushed out from the landing pad, covered by the Rebel militia who took defensive positions, and lay fire down upon the Imperial Clone Troopers.
"Jedi! Come on!" Clu called out as he fired off a burst of blaster rounds at one of the Clone troopers, who ducked his head back down behind what was left of the wall
The Jedi didn't need to be told twice; She elapt over the barrier and bounded towards the starships with a speed and grace Clu would have considered impossible for her build.
Clu's amazement was cut short, however, for an anti-tank rocket flew through the air and smashed into B-27 who was just a few feet away, causing a defeating explosion.
His life flashed before his eyes as the fiery explosion threw him through the air like a ragdoll, sending him smashing to the ground two meters away. Every part of his body screamed with pain and his ears rang from the explosion. He tried to stand, but he was too dizzy and collapsed back down before he'd even made it to his knees.
Then he felt himself ripped violently through the air again suddenly, screaming out and clattering in a heap on the metallic floor, coughing up a small amount of blood and peering up.
He couldn't hear a word that was being said, but could tell the Jedi was trying to speak to him from the movement of her lips. If he wasn't seeing six of her, he might even had been able to make out what she was saying.
He opened his mouth and told her that he could not hear her, that his ears were still ringing. At least, that's what he tried to tell her. He couldn't even tell if that's what came out. She nodded and gave him a reassuringly smile, so he got the feeling that she at least somewhat understood what he meant.
Nima and one of the resistance militia helped him sit up, propping him in one of the seats and kneeling to examine him...
It was then that Clu finally realised that the ship had already taken off...
***
"Okay there. Can you hear me, Sep?" Clu heard Nima's voice at last, and the sensation of suddenly being able to hear what was going on after thirty minutes of quite literally deafening silence overwhelmed him a little.
"I can..." He managed, giving a weak smile and breathing heavily. "The clones, they-?"
"They're following us, yes. We lost some of the other freighters. We've managed to give their Arc-170s the slip for now by going dark in the half disabled remains of your fleet. We'll have hyperspace coordinates locked in soon. Without an astromech, we've been struggling with the calculations but we're almost there-"
"Help me get to the cockpit." Clu said suddenly, standing up-and almost immediately falling over as pain shot through his leg again.
He lurched over, collapsing against Nima and clutching his leg as he let out a very unmanly scream of pain. Broken. He'd forgotten about that.
"You're not gonna tell me you're part droid now, right?" Nima said jokingly, helping him along the ship. He appreciated her not calling attention to his injury.
"I wish. My heads still ringing but... I've always been good with maths. I can't do it as fast as an astromech but I think I can help finalise them."
"I'm sure the help of a Muun will speed things along." Nima said as the door slid open; She helped Clu towards one of the seats, and he slipped down on it and peered to the pilot and copilot, before looking to the formula on the screen with a heavy sigh
"Alright... Let's see what we can do." Clu said, causing one of the Pilots to sigh as he handed a datapad to Clu.
"We're trying to-" The Pilot began, then suddenly got cut off as an explosion caught their vision out the cockpit window and the ship lurched with recoil.
There was a moment of uncertain chattering, before there was the distant site of a turbo laser smacking into another ship, ripping it in two.
One of the blue holograms fizzled out.
"They're done searching, they're just going to start shooting everything here..." One of the holograms said, causing the co-pilot next to Clu to throw his datapad aside in frustration, the plasteel casing splitting in two as it bounced off the wall.
"That's going to be it then. Game over. We lose." He growled, gnashing his teeth together so hard Clu thought they were going to break.
"It's not over yet, everyone calm down and stay focused. " Nima said in a reassuring tone. If there was one thing Clu did have to say for the Jedi, it was that they weren't lacking for leadership abilities.
Clu leant forward and peered over the console, his eyes dancing over the figures. His head was still aching and he had to keep double checking everything he did - he must have gotten a concussion when the explosion went off. With some difficulty, he kept trying to process the numbers, tapping information down on the datapad as the ships tried to collaborate to work out a solution.
"Is there anything we can do wit these ships, Sep?" The Jedi asked him, peering out over the deactivated Droid fleet. Clu gave a forlorn smile.
"I have a name, you know. And I don't think so; the master signal has shut down everything and we don't have local overrides, we can't even activate the hanger doors to get ourselves in, let alone make them dor anything useful." Clu replied with a weary shake of his head, looking back to the figures in the screen.
"A master shutdown signal? Whose bright idea was that?" Nima asked dryly. Clu noted the irony of having his own words echoed back to him. He wished he had the answer. He'd have B-22 wring their neck.
By the time they had worked the hyperspace calculations out, several more of the blue holograms had gone out. Their own ship had gotten a close call, when the Clone fleet had targeted an abandoned freighter nearby to them.
"When we go warm, we're going to stand out like a sore thumb." One of the pilots commented as he began to enter the finished calculations into the ship and prepared to turn its engines back online
"I estimate we'll lose another four of our remaining 17 to Republic fire before we leap out of the system." Clu commented with a weak smile.
"So we've got about, what a, quarter chance of being shot down? That's not so bad." The Pilot said optimistically, finishing entering the coordinates and nodding to the co-pilot
"Twenty three point five percent. But those are not our odds specifically; Given our position and that we're one of the closer ships to that clone cruiser, I am guessing we've got more along the lines of a forty eight percent chance of being blasted." Clu commented with a weak smile. He found some dark humour in the correction here, even th ough he realised it wasn't going to be appreciated.
"Gee, thanks." The co-pilot replied, flipping several switches. They were going to divert all power to the engines - this ships shields wouldn't have taken a turbo laser hit from the Cruiser even if they'd put all power to it.
"It's better odds than we had a minute ago." Nima quipped as the engines came back on line, simultaneously with many of the other transports.
The ship lurched forwards and Clu held his breath, biting down hard on his lip.
As predicted, the guns opened fire almost immediately. Dead ahead of them, one of the transports was gutted through by a turbo laser battery, explosions rippling along its surface. A shot went just wide of their own transport, flying past in front of them and making Clu's heart leap into his throat.
The tell tale blue-white light of hyperspace began to appear around the front of the ship. When they finally leapt into the hyperspace tunnel, everyone in the cockpit and quite possibly in the entire freighter let out a collective sigh of relief.
Then they laughed, whooping and hollering with glee. The pilot clapped his copilot on the back and the two of them chuckled to each other. They'd made it out alive, despite all the odds!
Clu paused. Then he grinned.
"So, would anyone like me to work out the probability of a hyperspace collision based on us using such slap dash calculations?"
Clu, sometimes I can't even tell if you're a good guy or a bad guy. Do you help people because you know you should, or just because that means they'll owe you later?
Clu Zanith had sacrificed most of his special C-B3 battle droids in the escape attempts, and much of his private army was destroyed. Nima Diakoyi and Clu Zanith uneasy alliance continued in the immediate aftermath of Order 66 and the Rise of the Empire. Nima initially intended to return to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, but soon it became apparent that the betrayal of the Clone Army was universal and the Rise of the Empire near uncontested.
Seperatist holdouts remained across the galaxy for some two years after the rise of the Empire, but none possessed significant enough power to push back against the Imperials. They hoped at best to be dangerous enough opponents to be left alone, a goal Nima and Clu both agreed was ultimately hopeless after much discussion.
With Clu's assistance and contacts, and in a very uneasy alliance with former Seperatists and the scum of the criminal underworld, they acquired false identification for Nima and hid her within the outer rim.
Clu's connections with the IGBC and the Galactic Senate saved him from imperial persecution, and Nima relies on that to help her contact and engage with the fledgling rebellion.
Clu found this to be a beneficial business arrangement; the Rebellion needed information, arms, equipment, false identities, safe houses. They were seemingly endless customers, and although not always the richest, they were good on their word and in the long run he would always get the payment he was promised and protection from danger.
He left the Senate staff for good shortly there after, seeing it as an increasingly neutered and worthless institution. Money follows power, and power now lay with the Moffs. Despite his connections to the Rebellion and the Criminal underworld, Clu defaulted back to his roots of playing both sides. His profiteering ways were kept somewhat in check by Nima, who had now grown very close to him. Ultimately, the information he passed along from the Moffs most likely hurt the Empire more than his assistance aided them during this period, and the contacts he forged within the Empire continued to allow him to act freely in the galaxy.
He was able to slip almost anything he wanted through customs and make all but the most horrendous of bounties disappear through the cracks. Faked deaths and new identities were common bread and butter, sneaking the rebellions operatives through the system and allowing them to continue unabashed. He even smuggled Jedi away to safety, helping them find their way to safe havens such as the planet of Naboo, whom he provided with arms and equipment. Smuggling Jedi and arming a planet proved to be lucrative eon terms of both credits and powerful friends.
To ensure that this operation continued without a hitch, however, it required keeping the Inquisitors and the Empire off of the trail of these Jedi. His most proud moment in this period was sending an Inquisitor running around chasing his own tial for three months straight by planting false information and letting the Inquisitor follow his own scent through the outer rim. He'd found that to be quite the thrill, until eventually he had to have the man ambushed and killed when it was becoming too much of a nuisance to keep ensnaring him in a Web. He chose the place of the assassination well, and had the Inquisitors wasting their time investigating Bothawui for the next few weeks until they finally realised they'd been tricked.
All of this eventually culminated in the first armed rebellion against the Empire on Naboo, which was promptly and expectantly crushed by the 501st legion. Clu, who predicted that the chances of success for the uprising were slim but correctly predicting it was an inevitability, cut all ties in the run up to the rebellion and insulated himself from potential investigation by burying as much evidence of his involvement as he could.
It wouldn't be the first time Clu had been involved in such armed rebellions, and it wouldn't be the last; As regime changes by the Empire became increasingly prevelant across the galaxy, Clu's assistance became increasingly sought after by rich fugitives and by those seeking to arm themselves for defense, and smuggled food into blockaded planets or rescued slaves from the Empire, whether he did so for free or otherwise. On the side he profiteered as he always had. He and Nima found many a holocron together during their travels and acquisitions, and despite her lingering disapproval, he at first sold on great quantities of these to a Hutt collector from Nar Shaddaa. Eventually, she forced him to agree to leave the holocrons to herself and he begrudgingly complied.
Nima and Clu became something of an influence upon each other; she pulled him ever more towards more altruistic deeds, but the devestation of the Order 66 had taken its toll on her bit by bit she was forced to abandon the teachings of the Jedi order in the hopes of survival. Although Clu remained a scoundrel businessman of the most slimey degree, Nima came to see her ally in a more positive light as time drew on. How much of this was truly change within Clu's behaviour and how much was little more than a perception filter is difficult to say for certain.
"A sense a question on your mind. Ask it." Nima said, stopping at the top of the ridge and peering back down to him with a light smile. The sun rose behind her and the warmth of the morning washed over Clu's skin as he came to a halt.
"Can you please stop reading my mind?" Clu asked in exasperation, throwing his hands up for a moment. The very concept of people being able to infer what he was thinking unnerved him, he liked to be reading others and in control, not the other way around.
"I told you, it doesn't work like that. What is your question?" Nima asked again, not dropping it and folding her arms softly in front of her. Clu sighed lightly before replying.
"What is the force, exactly? You said before, it resides in all of us. Why do so few of us have this power if its inside all of us?" Clu asked in a slightly puzzled voice, stepping up a pace towards her. The Jedi had always been mysterious, and their teachings as opaque and cryptic as their order.
"The Force is not a power you have. It's not about lightening or pushing or anything like that. It's the energy field between all things in the galaxy, a field that binds all life together. Using the force is about feeling that bond." Nima explained, her hand waving idly in the air as she spoke. Clu furrowed his brow lightly, shifting un place. That was less cryptic at least, fairly straight forward even, for a Jedi.
"I see... You didn't answer my second question." He noted, causing Nima to pause for a moment and grown.
"Its... Not one I can answer. The way the force works is a mystery even to the Jedi; force sensitivity comes from a high count of midichlorians. You're a Muun, your species have a baseline of about two thousand. I could get your count specifically if I had one of our tools; it might make a fun piece of trivia for you, given you enjoy boasting about your grades so much." Nima teased, giving him a cheeky smirk.
" Very funny, at least you'd beat me in something." Clu retorted with an equally jovial grin.
"I'll beat you in Dejarik yet, you get over confident and you don't hide your emotions even half as you think you do. Whenever I'm making the move you want, I can feel your anticipation... That, and the corner of your mouth twitches ever so slightly." Nima said in amusement as she folded her arms back across her chest again, raising a brow and grinning. Was his tell really that obvious? Or was it her force powers letting her do that? He'd have to work on it either way, or perhaps she really would beat him.
"Yet- I keep beating you, turns out I'm better at predicting things than the J3di." Clu stated, folding his arms and meeting her eyes
"Oh, but was that gentle quiver in your voice a moment of doubt?" She said, needling him lightly before continuing "As much as it pains me to feed into your hubris, you've got a brain that might as well be a droid processor, so it's not surprising you can calculate the outcomes of a game with finite moves."
Clu chuckled a little bit. They'd both been so full of themselves going into the first game while waiting for the astromech to finish repairs on the engines when they were adrift a few lightyears from Manaan. She had predicted him well- or perhaps foresaw what he had been intending to do, as she put it the force could guide her through it - but Clu had managed to trick her into letting herself get forked and take the upper hand.
"Awh, I'm touched. But yes, I suppose there is a small difference between that and predicting the future. Anyway, that sounds like an answer, though. I don't have enough of these... Midichlorians." Clu said, steering their conversation back into topic. Nima gave a light shake of her head in response to his comment on the Midichlorians.
"Yes. And no. Midichlorians doesn't directly correlate to force power, a Jedi's connection to the force comes from meditation and understanding, so some would say its merely an indicator of your natural attunement. Some would even speculate that anyone could take up the force, that everyone could tap into it if they took the time and worked hard enough and disciplined their mind. Others say Midichlorians dictate the presence, that they generate the energy, and you either had them or you don't." Nima replied with some uncertainty. Evidently the connection between the two was not well understood even by the Jedi, which left him at something of a loss as to how it would work. If the latter was true, which would certainly make sense from a biological perspective, then surely introducing more midichlorians would either induce the capacity to use the force or otherwise enhance the capabilities of a Jedi...
"So what if one was to artificially raise the level of midichlorians?" Clu reached up and stroked his chin lightly, and Nima winced for a moment.
"Leave it to you to jump to the scientific solution and start looking for unnatural loop holes... You're already thinking about it all wrong; The Midichlorians are not the force. And before you get any bright ideas about dosing someone up on midichlorians just to see, without any mental discipline or training, to suddenly sense the force? It would drive the person mad, I think. Imagine being connected to everything, even for a moment, feeling the pain of others, the joy?" Nima said, biting her lip for a moment. Clearly, the very idea of artificially generating force users was troubling to her, and he could arguably see why if her thoughts were correct. The last thing you wanted was for a mad army of force welding maniacs to be running around doing whatever they pleased.
Then again, the Sith were already doing that.
"I'm insulted you think I'd even consider that." Clu tried to make light of the situation, but Nima had apparently become more serious and wasn't having any of it.
"You know that isn't what I meant. You're practically wired up to think of this all as just another mathematical equation or formula that you can manipulate or solve. You're thinking of it as if A equalled B, where A is Midichlorians and B is force power. But it just isn't that simple. It's not even as simple as midichlorians plus training equals force power. Let go of your preconceptions for a moment and just imagine the connection." Nima urged him gently, smiling warmly.
"I don't think I could ever imagine how that feels." Clu admitted. Nima pauses for a moment, thinking.
"Do you remember being a child? The first time they tell you other people have feelings too, and you just can’t quite believe it because you can't feel their feelings and you just can't quite think how they think? I can feel it." Nima took a step forward and reached out, gently placing her hand on to Clu's and wrapped her fingers around his. He gasped for a moment as he felt something... Something he couldn't even try to explain. It was like--like he wasn't in his body. He was feeling things that weren't his own.
Nima didn't speak, quite, but her heard her in his head.
Do you feel the flight of the bird? How it feels as it soars overhead, peering down at us?
He did. He felt it, rushing through the air in exhilaration as it dove. He felt something else too, hunger; it 2as searching for a meal.
And somewhere nearby a man dies in an alley, drunk and alone...
He felt that too. The pain. A disturbance. It rippled through the bond like a wave and he could feel the emptiness, the sorrow.
While a baby takes its first breath...
So much potential. His family were gathered, laughing. A woman, coming out of labour, wept tears of joy. Excitement, eagerness, the child a mix of confusion and fear as it took its first steps in a vast galaxy.
A child buries his mother...
The sorrow and the pain again. Cutting through his heart like a knife. But also solemness, a farewell, remembrance.
All of that. We're all connected, our emotions, our lives, all of us hurtling through space, clinging desperately to rocks or ships... every last one of us is connected.
And we can feel it.
They could... And it was beautiful, enlightening and fantastic... And in equal measure crushing, overwhelming, and terrifying.
"That’s the force." Nima said as she released her grasp and took a step away from him. Clu gasped, blinking several times and stumbling backwards down the hill, recoiling in shock but barely managing to keep his footing as that sensation was yanked away from him and everything went back to... Normal. Yes. Normal.
It had felt like- how he imagined seeing for the first time would be like, after a lifetime of living in darkness. The light would no longer be a comfort, it would just be blinding.
Maddening, even.
"How do you take it?" He said at last, looking up to her weakly. It felt like it would be overwhelming, to feel those around you night and day, to sense their emotions and the connections between everything.
"A lifetime has made me used to it, like any other sense, as well as discipline and meditation. Ask yourself, how do you take having a sense of pain? How do people build tolerance for it? How do you understand it?" Nima replied, drawing her hand back and letting it fall to her side. Clu understood well enough her meaning, or at least he thought he understood what she meant. But that was different.
"But that... I don't know whether to pity you or envy you." He said again, regaining his breath and composure and taking a few steps back up the hill.
"Don't." Nima replied simply, a single line but poignant word, as she turned and continued up the hill "Come on. I answered your question, it's my turn to ask..."
Only you could get kidnapped by Hutts and come out richer for it.
This necessitated ever deeper links to the criminal underworld, including to organisations like the Hutt Cartels and the Black Sun Pirates. Rarely getting his hands personally dirty, Clu's network grew more and more complex as the Empire consolidated its power. The IGBC, its capital of Muunilinst devestated by the end of the Clone Wars, required many of its loans to be called in and Clu ended up heading up debt collection operations across the galaxy, hiring teams of mercenaries and sending battle droids to reclaim from less cooperative targets.
The Empire had nationalised many of the former powers within the CIS, included bodies such as the Techno-Union. This resulted in a plethora of unemployed engineers and low ranking employees being released into the market, dramatically lowering labour costs for start ups. He soon became invested in the creation of arms and ships, selling them on to the criminal underworld, to the Rebellion and even the Moffs.
While business boomed in the underworld, it proved an even mroe dangerous section to navigate than right under the Empire's nose. He had sold a Frigate to the Pirate Captain Angos Lightwater, and when that Pirate turned out to have more balls than sense and raided the Hutt Cartel, Ganun the Hutt turned upon his former supplier and sent bounty hunters after Clu.
Abducted and brought to the Palace of the Crime Lord on Saleucami, word soon reached Nima who assembled a small group of Trandoshan Mercenaries from the Rockscale Clan and traveled to Saleucami to rescue Clu Zanith. Having feared that Clu might be tortured into giving up information on the Rebellion or else outright murdered, Nima arrived on Saleucami expecting that she would have to fight her way through half of the Palace to get to him, only to find that instead Clu Zanith was being treated as an honoured guest.
Incredibly, while the Hutt had been intending on killing Clu as an example to those who would sell to his enemies, the Muun had managed to convince him that, not only was he more valuable alive, but that the Hutt would gain a lot more by working with him as an associate rather than by enslaving him. Clu then orchestrated a completely fabricated conspiracy where he conspired with a disgruntled lieutenant to 'expose' a conspiracy to assassinate and replace Ganun by his Rodian Majordomo. In reality, the Majordomo had been absolutely loyal to the core, but so damming were Clu and the Lieutenant able to make their accusation that the Hutt practically executed the majordomo and his 'conspirators' on the spot.
Having won the thanks of the Hutt and the newly ordained Majordomo's favour, Clu was able to have himself moved to more luxurious accommodation and treated as though he were royalty, and had subsequently gone on to secure a shipment of valuable spices for the Hutt from across the galaxly and delivered it to the Hutt in exchange for his freedom. So pleased with this turn of events was the Hutt that he placed a generous down-payment on a second shipment, and Clu was able to walk out of the Palace with Nima and the Trandoshans clutching a large stack of credits and with a huge, shit eating grin on his face.
That night, on the way back across the Galaxy, Clu and Nima admitted their feelings for each other.
I was stupid enough to think that, just for a moment, perhaps you really had cared about more than the credits
This continued for a great many years and Nima and Clu remained close partners in both love and crime. Although sometimes time together was very brief, they spent it as best they could. Their goals ultimately seemed aligned and Nima had come to trust Clu as having his heart genuinely in the right place, even if he was too easily sidetracked by his greed.
That all changed at Ryloth.
The Rebellion had established a base there had been smuggling refugees and former slaves across the galaxy to safety. The planet was, at its core, poor and of little cultural or economic importance. The prefabricated rebel base lay outside the ruins of what had once been the CIS citadel on the planet and was operated by the Rebellion for quite some time without the notice of the Empire.
The local crime lords, who had long since been in the pocket of Clu Zanith, began to get greedy and the Rebellion began to get increasingly noble. Exporting slave labour to the Hutts and to the Empire had become a valuable trade for them and the Empire was increasingly taking slave labour from Ryloth and the Rebellion increasingly driven underground. Clu was unable to reign in his former allies but also unwilling to act against the due to the contracts he held with several of them, and became caught between the two worlds.
When Nima demanded he go back on his contract with them, Clu grudgingly refused to do so. He wanted to, but a contract is a contract. He didn't renew the contract once he had finished his end of the bargain and broke off contact with them, at Nima's insistence, but his failure to break off the contract had shaken her faith in him and planted doubt in her mind.
The weapons and skiffs that Clu had sold to these crime Lords were now turned to a darker purpose; Entire villages were taken as slaves and sold on to the Empire, which increased its presence above the planet. By the end of that week, a Star Destroyer had arrived.
Realising that the jig was up regardless, Clu Zanith began preparations to leave Ryloth and invited Nima to come with him. Nima, however, was now distraught by the use of the weapons and vehicles Clu had sold on to the Crime Lords. A village worth of such slaves were en route towards the capital where they would be sold on to the Empire, and Nima felt that it was her and Clu's personal responsibility to retrieve them.
The problem was, Clu knew there was no way that could be done without ending up on the Imperial Bounty Board or with a Hutt price on his head. They'd identify him for sure if he went with her, and with only B-22, which would be easily identified and linked back to him by the crime Lords working with the Empire, at his disposable doing so would have turned him into an outlaw.
Even worse, he knew by now which Imperial it was in orbit; Grand Moff Tarkin. Any Moff would have delivered a harsh response if the planet appeared to be fighting back, but Tarkin's reprisals would have been absolute and Clu doubted there was ever any hope of survival for either Nima or the resistance.
So he refused again and tried to convince her it was a lost cause. Once more, Nima stood her ground. At last, Clu relentled and agreed to help free the slaves, but instead told her to let her talk to them. Reluctantly, she agreed and Clu contacted the crime lord.
Three. Hundred. Thousand. Credits.
For three dozen slaves.
Clu balked. He knew *he* was being price gouged now and he didn't like it. He negotiated like he always did and managed to get the price down to two hundred thousand credits but... Then he hesitated.
He knew it was the right thing to do, but two hundred thousand credits was a lot of money to take as a hit to his wallet for so little. And it wasn't even as though he was buying the slaves, he was paying for their freedom. Who even knew how long that would last? If he bought them and freed them only for the Empire to round them up the next day, what good would that do?
In the end, he paid the credits to free the slaves, taking one of the largest single hits to his bank account he had ever dared to take.
The hesitation and the delays had deeply shook Nima's faith in Clu, and despite Clu having paid the money, he had left it too late the Empire had intercepted the returning Skiffs and taken the slaves regardless.
This drive a wedge between their relationship again. They had always had disagreements about his miserly nature in the past, but Nima hadn't seen the face of Clu that would rather doom people to a life of servitude than pay some of his obscene fortune before and it shocked her deeply.
Just a month later, Nima decided to join up with a group of rebels that had decided to take the fight to the Empire. Clu, more a pragmatist than idealist and knowing full well that sustained warfare against the empire was ultimately suicidal, couldn't countenance the idea. They'd worked against the Empire in the past, of course, and had on any occasions supplied rebellions or resistances. But there are difference between selling weapons, smuggling equipment and occasionally helping attack a small outpost and actively taking the fight to the Empire. The latter was, in Clu's opinion, utterly suicidal.
"You're really going then?" Clu asked her with a slightly pained voice, fighting to hold it back.
"It's the right thing to do, Clu. Come with me, I could do with your knowledge if I'm going to stand a chance." Nima held out her hand towards him from the back of the transport, smiling lightly to him.
"This rebellion will not succeed. Nima... I predict a success rate of-" Clu said as he took a single step before her, shaking his head firmly. He felt like begging her, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.
"I don't want to hear it, Clu. First the pirates, then the slaves... Do you not even care?" Nima withdrew her hand and advanced forwards herself, starting at him in disbelief and... Anger. She was rarely angry, and the accusation wounded him deeply.
"You know I do Nima." He protested weakly, lowering his head to the floor. Did he care? He wasn't actually sure himself. It certainly hadn't felt like caring.
"I thought I did... But I don't know, Clu. You've got three Hearts, I wanted to hope that one of them was in the right place but - they all beat for your bank account." Nima raises a hand up to her forehead, and Clu could tell she was fighting back tears and fury as well.
"That's not true, they belong to you." He said as he took a step towards her, reaching out to gently take her hand with a smile.
"If they did, you'd be coming with me." Nima replied acidicly, withdrawing her hand and shaking her head at him. His smile faded as it began to dawn on him that this really was going to be an inexorable issue. She could be stubborn at times, and this was definitely one of their times.
"I'm not going to commit suicide by stormtrooper, you can't-" Clu protested, but was cut off by a short laugh and a sad shake of Nima's head
"Do business if your dead. See? Just more money, Clu, and its never enough for you. You're a millionaire, and that isn't enough. No amount of credits is ever enough for you, because it isn't every credit in existence."
"That's not fair. You know that's not what I meant." Clu replied, but his words sounded increasingly hollow even to himself. She was right, and that made it far worse. Money had always been his weakness, and he had helped the Rebellion mostly because they'd paid well.
"So what is it, Clu? Because I don't see what else is stopping you but cowardice and money. You'd have let that village be enslaved if I hadn't made you spend it... Would you sell me out, if the price was good enough?"
"Never." Clu said defiantly. That he was sure in, there wasn't any amount of credits he'd ever have sold her out to the Empire for.
"I want to believe you. I do. But I can't. And I can't believe I was stupid enough to think that, just for a moment, perhaps you really had cared about more than the credits." The worst blow yet, it stuck in him like a knife. She couldn't have wounded him more deeply if she'd cleaved him in half with a Lightsabre. Nima had always been insisting to him that he really did care, inside, that there was a part of him that genuinely wanted to free the galaxy and that had protected people from the Empire because it was right, not just because it was good for him. Hearing her say otherwise now... Cut very deep.
"I do-" Clu protested fiercely, raising his head again and shaking his head, listing a few examples jsut off the top of his head. He wasn't going to let this go, not now. "I didn't have anything to gain when I hid you, nor when we smuggled the food past the Imperial blockade at Mon Cala, nor when we got those Jedi to Naboo..."
"So prove it to me. Come with me. Put your heart in the right place for once." Nima said, pleadingly as she backed up the ramp of the transport, it's engines whirling up. He stood paralysed. He'd never done good on spur if the moment decisions. That just wasn't how he worked. He was careful, cautious, meticulous. This decision was too big too quickly.
"I don't know..." Clu choked, confused and hurt.
"Goodbye, Clu... I do love you." Nima replied sadly. The two words made his stomach churn, he felt like a rock was stuck in his throat and as the ramp onto the transport closed shut and hid her from view, a tear ran down the Muuns face and he choked on his reply.
He fell to his knees in the dirt and knelt there for what felt like an age before he finally dragged his carcass off towards the clearing where their own starship was hidden. He had half a mind to go after her, to follow the ship... But what would he even say? He didn't know if he'd be any closer to making a decision in this then...
No, he'd follow her. This was it, he wasn't going to give up that easy! He threw the switches over the console and ran about the bridge of the star fighter, working quickly to activate it before coming and sitting back down at the pilots seat. He had seen Nima do this a thousand times before, he could do this! All they needed to do was clear atmosphere and the Droid could handle the rest. He nodded to the Droid next to him.
"Alright, this can't be that hard. Let's follow that ship!" He instructed with a triumphant look on his face. He'd have all of the journey to work out what to say, how to make up for this or whether he'd even take her up on her offer. It wasn't like he could stay here anyway!
The ships engines whirled and buzzed and began to take off from the ground. Clu moved the control of the starship carefully, pressing it forwards and-- immediately the starship swooped forwards and crashed down into the ground.
Oh. That wasn't supposed to happen
Fierfek.
Now, Brsk, you know I have a reputation for cunning. I do not intend this to be a fair fight. We are going to fall upon them without warning, we are going to strike at their communications and then we'll be long gone before the Imperials notice something is wrong. Do this right, and this won't be a battle - it'll be a kick in the balls.
Clu Zanith was stuck on that forsaken rock for far too long. When he finally got off it, he realised there wasn't anyway he was going to be able to contact Nima again within the near future. News cropped up on the holonet from time to time, but she was always long gone by the time anyone arrived to follow up.
The bitter Muun turned back to his business. It was all he had left in the end. Perhaps it really was the case that he didn't care, that it was only the credits and the business that really matter to him. Or perhaps that was what he had taken to telling himself in order to make it easier to accept. He wasn't really sure anymore himself.
Either way, he was determined now to prove he wasn't a coward, even if it was to himself. He'd committed to a contract of sorts, and he'd see it through. A warped sense of honour told him that he owed Nima that much. It was perhaps ironic that having refused her offer of joining in a crusade against the Empire would be punctuated by him making a strike against the empire simply to uphold his end of a contract. There was another part of him that intended to do it just to test himself whether it was possible to fight against the empire directly and survive.
But to achieve this, he needed time. So he went on much as he had before, running his own little operation underground, selling a buying favours. Before long, he'd fallen in with a new crowd, befriending the leader of a smuggler ring called Zakaros.
Zakaros would run whatever Clu needed running in the outer rum. Weapons, spice, food, medicine, whatever. Smugglers were always crucial services for Clu but this one was different, because this time he had a personal goal on mind rather than aiming to set up a transactional agreement. He'd paid for those slaves. They didn't belong to the Empire, their fates belonged to him
They tracked the slaves from Ryloth across the galaxy. Some had been sent to work on an Imperial special project run by Grand Moff Tarkin, and Clu's digging there turned up nothing. Whatever it was, it was big enough that even Clu's omniscient network wasn't touching it. Yet. Given it was filed away under an Imperial weapons project, he didn't even dare thing what would be happening to the slaves. Live targets, perhaps.
The rest of the slaves, however, had ended up working on a spice mine in the Midrim world of Mon Gazza, owned by the Galactic Spice Mining Guild, a former Seperatist operation that fell under Imperial control after the rise of the Empire. A few of ti's former administrative staff were in place and this drew his attention quickly and Clu soon penetrated the mines innerworkings, getting an administrator and some of the guards into his pocket and acquiring plans and blueprints for the facility, as well as a path to snuggle in goods. With plans and an update on the amount of slaves and defences, Clu decided to do what he did best; Fix things.
Zakaros would smuggle arms into the spice mine, aided by the pair of corrupt guards. These weapons would be used to launch a slave uprising in the spice line. At the same time, Trandoshan mercenaries would drop into the command centre through the ventilation system and eliminate the communication, ensuring that the Guards would be unable to call for reinforcements quickly.
It required precise timing and good predictive thinking on his part, but he proved mroe than capable of it and when the date came around, he believed that they would be able to pull it off despite his unease and fear.
They hit hard, and they hit fast.
The prison fell quickly under the unexpected outbreak of armed rebellion and external strikes. Subsection A-12 put down its resistance fairly quickly and began to fight their way to the command centre, which gave Clu and his team limited time to recover the slaves and prisoners from the mines. Likewise, some sections of the prison appeared to consist of rival gang populations and now began to turn on each other in the chaos that ensued.
Despite this, Clu's mercenaries quickly secured nineteen of the twenty three prisoners he'd come there for, and another eight dozen of the slaves besides. Clu paid an extra three thousand credits for each slave the Trandoshan and Smugglers rescued, and they managed to get off the planet before the imperial reinforcements arrived. Over the next few weeks, he and his associated acquired and forged false identifications and backgrounds for each of the slaves they had rescued, so they could travel across the galaxy and start new lives. Originally, he had hoped to return many of them to their home worlds, but particularly in the case of Geonosians, Wookird and Twi'Leks this proved completely untenable.
When the Imperial media deeply suppressed the true extent of the Rebellion in the Mon Gazzian mine, Clu came to consider it as a resounding success. Despite imperial censorship, news of the attack leaked out along other channels fairly quickly, of course, but few could be certain as to the true identity of the attackers or any of the details. The presence of the Trandoshans had been recorded which led some to believe that it was a violent and half mad Trandoshan clan who had stolen slaves for their own usage. Others believed it wa a push by the Rebellion to liberate slaves from the mines.
Clu wouldn't spoil this speculation, it was good to keep himself out of the attention of the Empire and off the bounty board. Besides, he'd done what he set out to do and felt vindicated, there was no need to draw unwarranted attention to himself. After all, you do one good deed, and suddenly everyone thinks you're soft and starts leaning on you harder in negotiations. The best way to get favourable terms was to be an unrepentant arsehole.
Imperial commanders would spend months analyzing the attack, hoping to discover the secrets of the covert strategies or anything which might link it back to its mastermind. Heads rolled - sometimes quite literally - at the Imperial Mon Gazzian Command for the attack and the humiliation had been palpable. Within a weak, half the command staff had been replaced, taken away and interrogated on suspicion of working with the attackers. He had helped get all his contacts in Mon Gazza out, feigned their deaths and given them new identification papers, so he knew any attempt to find fault back on Mon Gazza would amount to little more than an Imperial witch hunt. That suited him just fine, the bastrds could tear themselves apart for all he cared.
He knew it wouldn't end well for those slaves left behind, but he'd saved some and that was what he'd set out to do. Whatever had happened, he'd given the Empire a kick in the teeth and although he couldn't boast so publicly, he took private satisfaction in knowing that he'd proven that nobody in the galaxy could mess with Clu Zanith's contracts and get away with it.
And perhaps there was, privately and buried deep, a satisfaction that he had proven that he did care, and that he was not a coward. Perhaps one day he'd meet Nima again, and could tell her that he had in fact rescued those slaves, and that he'd decided to take a stand against the Imperials at Mon Gazza.
He hoped that she'd believe him if that ever came to pass. She'd want to, after all.
That's right, I can negotiate the most lucrative work. And whatever it is you and your crew need, I can get it. For the right price.
After Clu pulled off his great slave heist, the Imperials cracked down on smuggling in the Midrim. Bad for business, you see, and Clu had seen it coming a mile off. The empire was always going to throw its weight around once he'd finished with Mon Gazza, he'd planned ahead for that.
But what he hadn't expected was for Nima to fall off the galactic radar almost completely shortly after the attack on Mon Gazza. Logically, he knew that the result was likely the worst, and was concerned that perhaps his own activities had led to her being caught up in the crackdown or else had driven her underground... privately, he continued to hope that she'd been able to evade capture and had simply become even better at avoiding detection, so good that her motley crew was ducking even under his gaze.
Still, as the crackdown continued he remained one step ahead of the Imperials and slid his way under ground for a while, going mostly dark. Imperial intelligence never made the connection between Clu and Mon Gazza, but a number of his connections within that region were shut down or assassinated in the ensuing months and Clu thought it best to lay low until the Imperial investigations concluded and they loosened their grip around the midrim throat.
Not to mention that at the same time, he managed to get on the bad side of a xenophobic Imperial Naval Lieutenant in a Cantina on a midrim shipbuilding plant. After narrowly escaping a beating at the hands of the Lieutenant and several of his soldiers, Clu was forced to leave the planet for his own safety and burnt fake identities like there was no tommorow as he moves from planet to planet until he was sure that the Imperial had lost his trail. When he wants to disappear, Clu knows how to do exactly that.
Travelling to Anchorage to form new contacts and recoup his losses from Mon Gazza, he quickly made a killing selling on information, weapons, fighters, false identification papers and even some old battle droids to the denizens of the dark harbour.
When a chance presented itself to score a contract with the crew of the Noreaster, Clu met with the Mariner. Clu considered it carefully and negotiated as favourable terms for himself as he could possibly get as a Muun often would. The captain was wise enough to plug as many loopholes as could humanly be plugged as well, which Clu approved of for it's shrewdness. He knew how to sell himself as an invaluable asset and in fairness, he is; he knows how to get the crew linked up with the most lucrative work, and so long as he's working with the crew on a mutually beneficial arrangement, is happy to oblige.
This far he found the rules for working with the crew of the Noreaster to be fairly relaxed even if the crew was not the most amicable lot, and although he doubted he would personally be doing much looting any time soon, it allowed him to pick over choice pieces for his clientele and ensure that he could keep up with the demand. In addition, his ability to both score strong contracts for the crew and serve as a middle man to sell them information and help connect to black market contacts made his eyes water at the thought of the opportunities that might await him and he quickly set about making it clear to everyone that if they wanted or needed anything, he was their man.
Plus, in addition to the money he could make he was well aware that good connections were more important than any amount of money, and when it came to mercenary crews, getting them or their leaders to favour you or even better to be in your debt was a good way of securing valuable allies for the future. The Mariner had built herself a strong reputation, indeed, Clu has watched the rumours spread year earlier - and as a sign of good faith had buried any connections between her Jedi and this new composite identity that he had came across. Perhaps this ultimately played a role in him becoming part of the Noreasters crew, who was to say? That was the way of things, you scratch each others backs when it's appropriate.
And now, here he is. His silver tongue and contacts ensures that the Gray Mariners squeeze every credit they can from the most lucrative jobs in the galaxy, and he ensures that Imperial intelligence and other such nuisances get thrown off their tail at regular intervals.
A rather scruffy looking bastard, Arx sports a short crop of brown hair and a faint mustache/beard. He has a receding hairline, making him appear a little older than he really is. Arx's body type is best described as "average." He stands at 5' 10" and weighs about 160 lbs. He can almost always be seen wearing a leather vest over an undershirt and work pants. He sometimes sports a brown leather duster when out in public. When engaging in a particularly dangerous mission, he changes into an armored and modified Imperial Pilot's Uniform. It incorporates a red trim into its design, with red X's over the Imperial logos. He tries to stray away from wearing the accompanying helmet unless absolutely necessary.
| {Equipment and Personal Belongings} |
PAC20 Visual Commlink
RSKF-44 Heavy Blaster Pistol
F-187 Fusioncutter
FastTurn-3 Hydrospanner
Macrobinoculars
Extra Energy Cells and Battery Packs
Marked Sabacc Deck
Spacer's Leather Vest (integrated into his casual outfit)
Personal Supply of Death Sticks, hidden in a secret compartment in his room.
Four cases of Jawa Juice, hidden in a secret compartment in his room.
| {Physical Abilities} |
Ace Pilot: While certainly not the absolute best in the galaxy, Arx ranks high in his craftiness in the pilot's seat. He was initially trained to run the family's sand speeder before eventually learning how to fly civilian transports. His records in some exercises at his Imperial Flight Academy have yet to be beat to this day. He knows how to push the ship to its limits, but seems to excel most behind the crew's alternative freighter, The Tempest.
Gunslinger: While not a brilliant marksman, Arx has a rather quick draw in the outer rim. His RSKF-44 Heavy Blaster pistol typically does any heavy lifting and fighting that come from a job gone south. Arx's fighting style revolves around being the first to get a shot off and hoping it's lethal enough to either incapacitate or kill his target. When that doesn't work, things tend to get dicey.
Passable Mechanic: While never formally trained in ship upkeep, years of working with various ships has given Arx a passable knowledge of how to keep a ship running. He can provide makeshift repairs in a pinch that help keep his ships running for just long enough. This knowledge doesn't exactly transfer over beyond ships and speeders.
| {Limitations} |
Deserter's Badge: Given Arx's previous role in the Imperial Flight Academy and now current profession as a Pirate, Arx has earned the special distinction of being marked as a traitor and deserter of the Empire. They have placed a substantial bounty on his head.
Headstrong: Arx is particularly stubborn when he makes a decision, and is willing to defy anyone who tells him otherwise. Only the direct threat of death is typically able to deter Arx from a course of action once he has his mind set on it.
Living on the Edge:Being the hotshot pilot that he is, Arx lives for danger. If there's a risky flight maneuver he can make to show off his skills, he'll take it over the safer option. This becomes particularly dicey in dogfights, but it's always panned out for him so far. An extent to this has manifested in Arx's addictive personality... including his addictions to gambling, alcohol, and death sticks.
That's MY Crew: Another trait that often places Arx in danger is his fierce loyalty to his crew. He would never abandon any of them on a mission, and he gets a little trigger happy if he believes that any of his companions are in danger. This has led to a few missions going sideways in the past... though they were bound to end poorly anyways.
| {Personality} |
Arx embodies the cocky persona one would expect of an ace pilot. He prefers working on his own, and has never been a fan of serving anyone other than himself. He is sarcastic and biting towards his captain and his fellow crew members, often favoring a potent one-liner than a long-winded argument. Openly, he doesn't appear to like any of his fellow crew unless he's inebriated.
That being said, Arx is fiercely loyal to his crew. More than once he's been the first to fire a shot off to help his crew, and has taken a blaster bolt or two for those he's worked with. This originates from his time as a Captain himself and having to defend his own crew, which he has translated over to his new comrades. While not formally listed as the ship's first mate or lieutenant, Arx seems to carry himself as one. He often tries to subconsciously give orders to his fellow crew, but his lack of granted authority means the crew never has to follow them.
| {Place of Origin} |
Arx was born and raised in his early life on Tantooine, specifically as the son of a moisture farmer not far from Mos Eisley. Being the third of seven children, not much was expected of him. Arx did everything he could to earn his parent's affection as a child by doing what he could to help his parents on the farm. He ended up learning a bit about how to maintain the farm's equipment, but nothing of note. As an older teen, Arx ended up managing to talk his way into a job helping taxi transport ships at the Spaceport. This helped instill a love for flight that ended up shaping his life.
| {Background} |
Arx wasn't able to afford getting himself into the Imperial Flight Academy until he was 22 years old. Once there, Arx demonstrated an uncanny affinity with spacecraft. He set records at his academy that still haven't been bested, not even by the instructors. Unfortunately, he was unable to officially graduate from the academy and was flunked out due to his insubordinate nature. Rather than serve as a member of the Imperial Infantry, Arx left the Empire's services and became a deserter. Due to his exceptional skills as a pilot, a decent bounty was placed on his head and can be sentenced to death if found in Imperial territory. Not that it matters now that he's a pirate.
For a time, Arx tried to serve as a smuggler in the employ of the Hutts. He was the one who managed to steal The Tempest from a small time spice trader in Hutt space. Arx managed to pick up a small crew of criminals to work under him. He actually managed to work with this crew for about four years, smuggling spice and various contraband mostly in the Outer Rim. Arx only dared travel to the Mid Rim for a few lucrative jobs. On a few occasions, Arx himself would get pulled from his crew to pilot a snubfighter in the collection of whatever Hutt called. He would usually be leading a squad of mercenary pilots to take down whatever enemies had earned their way onto the crime lords' shit list. This career with the Hutts wasn't meant to last either.
Thing about working with criminals is that things don't always work out in your favor. After a run to the Mid Rim turned belly up, Arx's crew turned on him. They knew of his addictions, and weren't particularly fond of their cuts lowering to help fuel their captain's addiction. The crew imprisoned Arx in his quarters. This turned out to be a mistake on their part, as he knew his ship better than anyone. He managed to use a secret hatch to get out of his quarters, and personally slaughtered the crew that chose to betray him. Unfortunately, Arx began his massacre while his former co-pilot tried to navigate the ship towards Ord Mantell to pick up their next job. The ship ended up crashing into the surface of the junk planet and was beyond repair. He used what remaining funds he had to get his way back into Hutt space on board a cargo freighter. He was freed from his obligations for the Hutts now that he lacked a functioning ship, but was left stranded to squander away his credits as an ex-Captain.
About two years ago, Arx found himself meeting a rather strange individual who needed a pilot and wouldn't turn down a pilot with a freighter to accompany the Corvette in their possession. Their past pilot ended up getting killed in a bar fight earlier that afternoon, and the timing was almost too good. Arx ended up joining the Gray Mariners that day, and has been flying for them ever since.
For all those interested, I have posted the link to our Discord, where both this SW RP and my other Fallout RP have discussion groups. Be sure to identify yourself by your forum name for at least the purposes of getting tagged appropriately initially. Aside from that, I'll be reviewing the submitted characters and work on sending feedback where applicable. If there's a preference for private feedback, do be sure to mention otherwise I'll be dropping it here in the thread.
Side note, because I'm a dumb and must have gotten some deckplans mixed up somewhere the armory is actually deck five's cargo space converted to be closed off from the lower decks.
Yes, but unknown to be force sensitive. Grey, but light leaning, alignment.
| Role on Ship |
Engineer, starfighter pilot
| {Appearance} |
Skylar has a normal humanoid appearance with pale skin. She stands at 165 cm in height and weighs about 50 kg with her slim but toned build. She has long brown hair that is usually pulled into a ponytail along with having the hair on one side of her head braided while the other is let loose. She often wears her grey armorweave pants with each pant leg tucked into each boot along with a tight fitting, white armorweave shirt, which hides the tattoo between her shoulder blades, with the sleeves tucked into brown armorweave gauntlets. Over her shirt, she usually wears a brown shawl which she will use to conceal her face when necessary. Her blaster rifle is typically slung across her back while her blaster pistol rests in its holster on her leg.
| {Equipment and Personal Belongings} |
Modified A280 Blaster Rifle which is skeletonized to save on weight and has aftermarket galven circuits and focusing crystal to extend its effective range.
DC-15s side arm blaster which is able to recharge rounds up to a capacity of 7 rounds.
Utility Belt
Liquid cable launcher
Thermal Detonators
Sonic Detonators
Food and energy capsules
Pouch with a rebreather
Pouch with a holoprojector
Utility knife
Bandolier containing additional ammo for the A280 Blaster Rifle
| {Physical Abilities} |
Proficient with a blaster rifle and pistol
Expert pilot
Expert starship mechanic and technician
| {Force Abilities} |
None, untrained.
| {Limitations} |
Unskilled with melee combat
Low physical stamina
| {Personality} |
If Skylar were to be described in one word, that word would most likely be curious. The young woman is eager to learn about anything that piques her interest, so much so that sometimes it may lead to mischief such as breaking and entering and theft. Despite her actions and her various occupations however, Skylar is actually a rather kind person, after deeming a person to be trustworthy anyway, although she can also tend to act a bit arrogant and cocky at times. She was raised with manners being a member of an Imperial household after all, and old habits tend to die hard.
| {Place of Origin} |
Skylar was born on Kuat as the daughter and sole child of a couple who worked as engineers for the Kuat Drive Yards. Compared to most in the galaxy, Skylar was given a fairly wealthy, but modest upbringing and was raised in comfort, but not luxury, during her time with her parents. After life with her parents however, she was met with the grittier side of the galaxy, leading her to mature quickly in order to adapt with her rapidly changing surroundings.
| {Background} |
Skylar was born on Kuat at 29 BBY. She was the daughter of Oscar and Laura Fosslan who worked as senior members of staff at the Kuat Drive Yards, her mother being a technician while her father was a mechanic and on the design team. During her early life, she was given a comfortable life and education due to the relatively safe environment she was in. It wasn't long however, when she started to exhibit signs of force sensitivity, something her parents were afraid of but prepared for. Before anyone was able to notice, Skylar's parents engraved a marking onto her back, one that they both had, which would suppress her force sensitivity to others while looking inconspicuous as a tattoo, which is what she believed it was as she grew up. Even at an early age, the young girl showed an interest and curiosity in starships of all sizes, often asking her parents to get her tours and souvenirs from their work at the drive yards. As soon as she was able, she worked and learned at the drive yards, going through a variety of positions to learn as much as she could. By the time she was 18, Skylar was able to reassemble a fighter, program it herself, and fly it. During her downtime while learning about starships though, her father often took her to the shooting range and taught her how to use and maintain various blasters and other weapons. Although Skylar did not know why she was being taught such things during the time, her father often said that it would help her understand components in a starship, she would later learn that he had been preparing her for life without her parents. Her life would take a turn in 9 BBY however when her parents told her to pack her things and to get out of system with them. The Empire had discovered that Skylar’s parents were Rebel sympathizers and were secretly transferring classified information to the Rebellion. During their escape from Kuat however, Skylar was separated from her parents and while she was able to make her escape out of the system, she never learned what became of her parents. During the time between her escape from Kuat to her signing on to the mercenary group, Skylar kept herself alive with various jobs using her skillset. From being a convoy escort to being an assassin and hunting bounties, she took any job that she could do within reason and even managed to thrive considering the circumstances. Job after job, Skylar wandered the galaxy, never really seeming to find a purpose other than to stay alive and make credits to try and get away from her past life. At this point in her life, she was convinced her parents had died at Kuat after never having heard from them or of them since that fateful day. Eventually, her jobs would lead her to the mercenary group where she was attracted by the large credit reward it was offering.
Selkath Mandolorian Hunter. He'll be more mando than Selkath culturally, he'll have no reservations about using his claws in combat. (CQC+marine ops) Armor is not traditional Beskar, due to the extreme density of the metal. It will still stop a blasterbolt, most slugs and blades. Light sabers will not cut through cleanly, but a hard strike will cut through the armor and bite his flesh before being stopped. He is far from invincible and knows it.
Kyr'ad gotal'ur.
| {Full Name} |
Buurenaar D'ordinii
| {Age} |
036
| {Species} |
Selkath
| {Gender} |
Male
| {Force Sensitive/Alignment} |
No
| Role on Ship |
CQC, Marine pursuits.
| {Appearance} |
His Beskar'gam is colored to blend into marine environs, and is teal along the front with a darker grey/brown under a light blue pattern to mimic light patterns on an ocean or lake floor. He can change the appearance if given a few hours to apply a new scheme, but always returns to this pattern. He stands 1.34 meters tall in his armor. His helmet crafted to fit his physique and he often strokes the armor over his cephalic lobes when thinking a problem through.
| {Equipment and Personal Belongings} |
A lot. Beskar'gam, modified for marine use. Sensors are visual, sonic(including echolocation), and thermal based.Instead of a jet pack, he has an air tank and several retracting propulsion units. He always carries a bes'kad and kal, both sheathed in the harness for his pack. Out of water, he prefers to use an LJ-50 concussion rifle with an electric bayonet, and a power hammer for heavily armored targets including most light vehicles. In water, fresh or saline, he uses a sporting harpoon launcher of Quarren design and his blades. In both settings he's fond of using chemical grenades, or mines depending on desired payload, to incapacitate anyone who more valuable alive than dead. He owns the Devilfish submersible in the ship's cargo-hold, and uses it to traverse marine environs with haste.
| {Physical Abilities} |
Manda. Well versed in unarmed combat, and the use of his beskad and kal both on land and in water. Qualifes as a marksman out to three hundred meters with most rifles on land; and one hundred meters underwater. He is trained in basic tactical movements in small groups, and has some experience working with the looser "crews" of the outer rim. As a Selkath he finds navigating waterways, be they rivers or oceans or anything between, instinctively simple. He's adept at reading and sketching detailed maps of any area he's been through. He is also able to infer topographical details from two dimensional sensor feeds, though he much prefers a solid recon to to such primitive attempts.
| {Force Abilities} |
Not applicable.
| {Limitations} |
Does not deal well with arid or tundra climates, when outside of his beskar'gam. Not a social creature, his communication is often ... brutally blunt. A jaded soul, collateral damage is not a concern for him. Has no sense of decor or fashion, everything fits a practical purpose or is discarded. May exhibit selective hearing, from time to time.
| {Personality} |
Clever, sharp wit, bit of a smart ass as often as not. Still gets the job done with pride and professionalism. His personality is somewhat fluid, adapting to the needs of those around him.
| {Place of Origin} |
A small moon in the outer rim, records indicate the Lipsec system as his birth system.
| {Background} |
A soldier of fortune, he goes where the credits call. He's never broken a contract, or his word. His word is as binding any legal document to him. He was raised by his parents, both active Mandolorians. One served the system defense force and taught Bruen most everything he knows about fighting. The other was a farmer of sorts, helping manage one of the larger brine hatcheries on his birth world. He's never been to Manaan, and isn't related to those Selkath by many generations. His ancestors were enslaved by the Rakatan Empire, which later collapsed and forgot the slave camp that housed his ancestors. Later his ancestors witnessed the wreck of a mandolorian dreadnought. Some of the crew survived and shared their culture and skills with the locals. Bruen is the product of one of this series of unfortunate events.
Striking out on his own, at the age of 23, he was moving through the stars doing odd jobs here and there. seemingly wandering the galaxy aimlessly. As long he had a job lined up, he was happy. He's been on hunts, collected Imperial Bounties, played guard for a series of merchants and thugs in the Outer Rim.
He occasionally reaches out to his clan, and does some work for them. That usually involves simple information gathering, sometimes a light recon. Once it even included inserting a small fire-team, via a convoluted series of waterways with strong currents little room for error. That had been tough, but it had been successful. He still doesn't know what their objective was, only that his part of the mission went smoothly. Another time he was being contracted to hunt for some small resort owner on Auqilaris, a crude ge'hutuun of a man, who was proud of his "pets" though Bruen would have called them slaves. Bruenaar finished the contract, dealing with Demonsquid that had moved in a tad too close to the resort for the business to run smoothly. He took his payment and left, then compiled a file of all the data he'd collected at the resort. Including the sensor reading of his beskar'gam, maps of the local shore and sea floor, lists of personnel and equipment in use, everything he had. Once in orbit of the planet, he coded the file, flagged it appropriately, and sent it to his contact for official clan business.
D'ordinii does not now, nor will it ever condone slavery, organic or droid. The response was quick, and very precise. A month later the resort closed; the owner vanished, suspected dead. His staff had torn the place up arguing over who would take over, and the local officials stepped in to take over and clean up. The mans pets were also gone. Though no one was certain what had happened to them. It was a standing black op that few in the clan new of, much less the galaxy at large. Slavers and ring leaders died, thugs woke up with something skin to a hang over and no memory of what had happened. Slaves vanished. They were given transport to a refuge system, and given new identities, with with enough cash to get a job and start a new life. If any requested it, they would be permitted to join the clan. Those were given jobs that insulated them from the rest of the galaxy until they got readjusted.
Bruenaar however knew only what the rest of the galaxy was privy too, the man had been dealt with. He had an idea of what happened to the slaves, but couldn't even begin to try and prove it if he'd wanted to. Though when he joined the crew his HUD flagged one being as familiar, noting the number of times it had been detected by the sensors in his beskar'gam and the % match to previous scans. The only other data he had was when the being was last detected, and it took him some time to put the pieces together. Having put the clan out to save her once, he's decided to do his part guarantee a brighter future for her.
But this chance meeting was relatively recent, just days ago. Wandering through the Anchorage after his last job, a messy triple cross that never paid out, he decided to find more... stable work. He heard that someone called the Mariner was taking on new crew. Given his own marine nature, he was looking forward to meeting the individual. He was granted an interview and made his way to the directed co-ordinates.
He was... disappointed, when he met her at last. She appeared human, and utterly unfamiliar with the open waves at first glance. Still, she was clearly dangerous in her own right and no fool, given her armor. Something brought to mind the ancient tale of Sirens, beings that called spacers to their own demise with some lure or another, usually beauty. Bruen noted that many males would find her attractive, but well, being Selkath he was looking for a very different profile. She was professional though, so he decided he'd take the job if offered. It was not terribly surprising to find that he did get an offer. Mandolorians had a reputation of being excellent warriors and hunters after all; and he wasn't asking for excessive compensation. She'd not easily find a better deal than he was offering, in the market of expert labor.
Koz Lobo keeps his hair long, down to his shoulders, and is a natural redhead. He isn’t afraid to scrap, and this and running stolen goods have put in thin shape, but he drinks water quite much. He has small feet, and he doesn’t like hairiness , so he shaves.
| {Equipment and Personal Belongings} |
Jug of water, bandanna, he prefers denim pants and a loose shirt, guide book to various electric codes, maps of familiar locations, and also a rolodex of contacts he relies on to sell his merchandise He keeps a lot of different vibroblades onboard the ship, too. They’re for sale.
| {Physical Abilities} |
Ko is strong and intelligent..
| {Force Abilities} | None.
| {Limitations} |
His sense of hearing is off sometimes. He doesn’t know if it was a blaster, or if he was reassembling a droid when he was attacked by another smuggler while he was gutting the droid to see what it had..
| {Personality} | Koz Lobo is out-spoken, and he doesn't like bad business or bigotry. He isn't the most villainous thing you'd ever see. He stays optimistic, but then also vigilant. He's been engineering weapons, slaves, droids, and popular ship parts for a long time. Basically, Koz is a rebel and prefers that he be the thief, and that he gets away, and that you be more watchful the next time you rest your blaster pistol.
| {Place of Origin} |
Alderaan
| {Background} |
Koz come from Alderaan. His father was a machinist and shop owner. He had all kinds of parts to ships and droid and blasters, and everything else you could want. When he got older, his father allowed him to do some inventory and managerial hustling. He was quick to understand innkeeping, But there was something about him: he was greedy. Ko started grifting behind his father, selling blasters and tools and motherboards, basically getting rich with money his father should have collected. His scam got put away when his father did some night time counting and testing the goods. He was outraged, and dragged a seventeen year-old out of bed and confronted him. Koz got into a fight that night, but early the next day Koz surrendered a wad of monies, and they sat down and ate their morning food. Everything looked up and up, but Koz was indebted to bookies. Koz decided he would confront the robbers about their loses, he was knocked around until they decided to stop. While he lie on the group, the two lessons he learned where that one, a little could be enough and that two, it’s best to keep your lips sealed. Uh… but yeah, sure, why didn’t he save some of his non-taxed income, why didn’t he pack a blaster??
Look, I have had the worst trouble filling out this app. I have one pic available if you need to see. But anyway I'm going home in an hour. Hope everybody has a good day.
@Alfhedil, Hmm, so...question on race. For me, it's a toss-up between Chiss and Rattataki. I love both races, but not sure if one would fit in with this timeline more than the other. The only two characters I know of around the time was Thrawn (Chiss) and Asajj Ventress (Ratt).
However, if it's all the same to you then I'll make my choice, but figure I'd ask :)
