Character's name: Trycond Loneash

Race: Human

Faction: Imperial Remnant

Character Alignment (Choose one): Neutral-Evil

Character Background: Trycond was born to a rather high up family with a father who was in charge of one of the many famous shipyards that occupied the planet, and an imperial agent for a mother. Because of this line, Trycond found himself in a very different childhood than most, while others played and were carefree Trycond was constantly groomed to follow in his parent's footsteps in serving the empire. Many days were packed with either combat training from his mother which he seemed to carry an unnatural affinity for and more mental exercises from his father.

Tryconds life would take a turn however on the fateful day of his parent's death. The reports given to him had stated the accident was caused by a rebel attack. Trycond had been so full of anger and sorrow he had practically destroyed his own room in the missed of his emotions. As he sat amongst the mess of books and other positions he could feel something calling to him. Looking up from his position on the floor he saw a faint red glow coming from the corner of his room. Shifting the items around he found a small red pyramid that he had gotten from some old junk trader from the outer rim. Looking deep into the object he could feel as though it was speaking to him. Ever Since then Trycond has kept the artifact close to him as it has served as his teacher since that day.

Character Personality: Trycond has always been a smart cunning man even in the days of his youth. These two traits specifically helped to distinguish himself amongst others. Unlike some however Trycond never really let his skill or birthplace blind him from being a good person. He always did his best to show compassion to those around him, being firm believers that as high ranking officials in the empire it was his family's job to watch over the common people and protect them. This, however, has begun to change since the time of his parent's death. While not completely gone Trycond becomes colder everyday feeding more off his emotions more than in his past.

Character's Physical description:

Character Class (choose one): Force Sensitive-Sith

Items-
Red Folding Double bladed lightsaber
YT-2000

Supporting Characters:
R5-K7- Astro mech droid that has been under Tryconds family service for as long as either can remember.
Dax Caul- One of the few true friends Trycond made on growing up on Corellia. Though they have mostly fallen out of contact Trycond still considers him his closest friend.

Character's name: B-0, often referred to as Bee-Oh.

Race: Droid, a heavily recycled B1 Battle Droid

Faction: Independent

Character Alignment (Choose one): Neutral

Character Background:



Character Personality: Describing the personality traits of a droid, especially a creation that is supposed to lack a personality is interesting. B-0's original, programmed, 'personality' of sorts was as simple as they came: "Freeze Prisoner! Drop your weapons!" But over time B-0 was reprogrammed and upgraded, from simple foot solder to pilot. So tacked onto the alert and aggressive battle droid was the polite and calculated pilot, capable of both greeting guests to the ship and intimidating enemies.

These programmed traits, however, revealed themselves to be a dangerous mix. Create a Droid with the ability to learn new tasks, and carry out these tasks better than the average person. Create a Droid who is able to assess a situation for potential dangers, and be able to dispatch these dangers. But then, take the droid away from the war. Give it a human friend. Teach it about freedom. And then give the Droid the ability to say No. That is where the dangers come in. A Droid that could, and would, go against direct orders.

However over time B-0's personality changed, altered by a few different things. They began to adopt quirks and traits from people they spent long amounts of time with. Through watching negotiations, friends and family reunite with love, heartbreak and hatred, they have seen it all. But the biggest factor in the Droid's shmorgishborg of personality traits is the amount of time they have gone without a Memory Wipe. And that amount of time is their entire 'life'. Most Droids, once they begin to learn too much or stray too far from their programmed purpose, will be restored to their default by the people who own them. This is not the case with B-0.

It could have been sheer dumb luck, or fate, but B-0 never had their memory erased, not completely. And while their age and eventual deterioration has caused some blanks in their memory banks, causing their time in the army to be more like a blur, B-0 retains most of their knowledge.

Character's Physical description:



B-0 is slightly shorter than the B1 Battle Droids, as over the years they have developed a slight hunch, standing 6'0 and weighing in at about 143 pounds. A majority of their metal plating is an off-white color, with a blue motif that was added after their creation. Years of wear and tear has left it covered in dents, and scratches. Over time the bright blue paint has faded, especially around their legs and feet, and has begun to chip in several areas. The sensors on their face, giving it the appearance of having eyes, are black but light up when they interact with things. Over time several of the diodes in their sensors have burned out, leaving their 'eyes' looking spotty and patchy.

Clothing normally isn't too popular among droids, as they have nothing to cover up and don't need clothing to protect them from the elements. No shoes, no shirt, no service doesn't really apply to droids. However, B-0 has been gifted several articles of clothing. A large, olive green, scarf that is long enough to also cover their shoulders like billowing sleeves. B-0 has a small bag strapped to both of their upper legs, and a large backpack they carries on their back. These bags are mostly empty, as Droids don't need to carry supplies on them. B-0 mostly stashes small shiny objects in these, in lieu of food or other survival essentials.

Character Class (choose one): Soldier (Fighter Pilot)

Items -

• E-5 blaster rifle: Universal and cheap, eventually E-5 blaster rifles would become the staple of the B1 Battle Droids. B-0 was given it by their last Master before the war ended, as a way to make it look more intimidating based only on appearance.
• Wrist Blaster: B-0's favorite weapon. It is built into it's right wrist by it's friend making it both easy to conceal and weightless. It is a little more difficult to upkeep, and if is malfunctions B-0 is unable to use it's right arm.
• Jedi Holocron?: A palm sized, crystalline, dodecahedron that B-0 may or may not have stolen.

Supporting Characters:

• Ain Van Dasca - A human man in his late twenties, with black scruffy hair and an equally scruffy personality. A jokester with a slight lazy streak, Ain really desires adventure, if only the two could make enough money to go on an adventure. He spent his life savings on B-0, feeling a connection to the droid he couldn't explain. Slightly force sensitive, but with no training. His fighting style is up close and personal, with flourishing movements.

Race: Human

Faction: New Republic Special Operations (Spec Ops)

Character Alignment: Chaotic good

Character Background: Zena Vale was born on the beautiful Core World of Alderran, twenty four years before its future destruction at the hands of the Empire. Her father Kenall, was a well regarded diplomat in the planetary government. Her mother Wina stayed home caring for Zena and her two younger brothers Crixian and Oran. Zena has the fondest of memories of her gorgeous homeworld, many days of her youth spent running through the boundless fields or swimming in the crystal clear lakes. The world frequently fills her dreams at night and its destruction haunts her thoughts. She showcased intelligence as a student, and it seemed as if she was on track for a highly esteemed position like her father. Zena was kindhearted and sweet as a child, with an eye for the beauty of nature.

As she grew into adulthood she developed an interest in the arts and politics much like her father did. She would end up working for her father as an assistant and later a representative on intergalactic diplomatic endeavours. During this time Zena taught herself to use a blaster, something she would always carry in her missions for her father. She never believed that she would come to depend on blasters to earn her glory. She visited multiple worlds on her diplomatic work, including several of the core worlds and outer rim territories. Despite the rise of the Empire the Alderaani government continued to build strong diplomatic terms with other worlds. Her father was an early contributor to the Alliance to Restore the Republic, though Zena did not involve herself in it until the destruction of her homeworld. Alderaan was the Rebel Alliance's chief backer and had earned the ire of the fierce Galactic Empire.

When the disaster occurred Zena was offworld on Corellia, in Coronet City to negotiate with the local government about trade deals. The announcement of its Alderaan's destruction immediately filled the news and shook Zena to her core. Her entire family had been wiped out, as well as her friends and neighbors. As the death count was announced she broke down in tears whilst she filled with a deep vengeance for the Empire after their unforgivable actions. She remained on Corellia for a few months, having been granted a temporary residence following the unprecedented destruction of her world. The Rebel Alliance seeked her out shortly after that and she eagerly joined up. Contrasting her previous role in the Alderaani government she chose to take up arms against the Imperials. There was no negotiating with such a terrifying force.

Zena underwent weeks of grueling training until she was skilled enough to hold her own on the battlefield. The beautiful diplomat had been molded into a ferocious commando with a bloodlust for Imperials. She participated in the most harrowing missions, operations that struck harshly at the Empire. Often partaking in guerilla operations which resulted in high death counts for both sides. As she gained renown in her early years of action she established her own team of special operations soldiers. Warriors that would happily be plunged behind Imperial lines to wreck havoc and pile up corpses. Vorn Tiger squad was born, aptly named after a viscous apex predator on Alderaan. Sergeant Vale intentionally seeked out soldiers with personal vendettas against the Empire as she believed they'd fight the hardest without regret. Her present day team was pulled together and began work.

Vorn Tiger squad's operations involved planting bombs at Imperial sites, kidnapping high ranking Imperial personal, assassinations of important Imperials and annihilation of strongholds. With every mission they seeked to punch holes in the Empire until they left nothing but a trail of destruction behind them. They earned a reputation as a brutal spec ops team that showed little mercy to the enemy. The brutality they fought with is in part as to why the fiercely loyal Zena has not been granted further promotions. As well as the fact that she's turned down every single one which would take her away from her squad. As the days of the war waned down she could feel something big about to happen.

During the battle of Endor her squad were deployed on another world taking part in an insurgent operation. As Vorn Tiger squad heard news of the second Death Star's destruction and the Emperor's death they toasted to finishing off the Empire. As the New Republic was born her team have continued to do missions under the banner, never putting down their arms against the scattered remnants of the Empire. Several of her team fell in action over the years and they were properly mourned, as new additions were brought on board. Zena continues to wage the fight against the Empire, eager as ever with vengeance for her homeworld constantly in her heart.

Character Personality: Sergeant Vale is a hardy woman with an obvious vendetta against the Empire for the destruction of her homeworld. It is unrelenting in its fury, and never-ending in its scope. She treats Imperials with no respect and is brutal in her actions against them. She takes pride in causing destruction against them, so much so that her team has been instructed by Republic command to tone it down. An order which they frequently disregard. She's utterly ruthless in her actions against the Empire. The viciousness of which she and her squad acts against the Empire is something to be noted, it is a take no prisoners streak of pure brutality. She has no qualms with doing practically anything that will hurt the Empire, not caring for granting any mercy. Zena possesses an intelligent tactical mind, with well versed knowledge of battle planning. She's a charismatic figure within Vorn Tiger squad, which the soldiers under her command follow her without question. She is not stubborn and will frequently seek out advice from her troopers.

Zena has a friendly deposition to most, frequently pitching friendly jokes at the expense of others. She still has a chip on her shoulder over Alderaan's destruction, which she refuses to ever stop letting drive her. She rarely speaks of her life before her homeworld was annihilated, having found her place in the Rebellion. She's close with all her squadmates, willing to die for any of them as much as they'd die for her. Zena is glad they finally toppled the Empire but knows the job is not finished, she only hopes the New Republic does not stop the fight until the entirety of the Empire is dissolved and destroyed. Until that day she refuses to put down her rifle.

Character's Physical description: Sergeant Vale stands 182 centimeters in height with an athletic figure befitting a trained commando. Her eye are brown in color, often with an intense gaze in them. Her skin is a tan shade while her hair is black and often tied back in a short ponytail. A noticeable scar marks the skin near her left cheekbone, while others dot her body. Her facial features can be considered attractive but she is not one to wear makeup or fancy clothing. When in casual settings she tends to prefer simple, comfortable clothing. She has several tattoos on her figure, most notably the rebel insignia on her right arm just above the elbow and a snarling Vorn Tiger branded on the middle of her chest. It is the insignia of her Spec Ops team, which she wears with pride. Her left arm is also composed of a sleeve of various lettering and art.

Character Class: Special Operations soldier

Items: A280 blaster rifle, DL-18 blaster pistol, Vibroknife, thermal detonators, smoke grenades, remote explosive charges, grappling hook, rations, canteen of water, credit chip, her armor and a commlink.

Zena also owns an A wing, the Alderaani Fury. She has had the spacecraft for several years, while its marked up with scratches and dents it still flies as well as the first day she flew it. The Fury is her chosen starfighter for practically any mission involving flight, it has never let her down.

Supporting Characters:

• Eensil Keeg - A Duros rifleman and loyal friend of Zena. He is a longtime member of the Rebel Alliance, now the New Republic. Corporal Keeg continues to follow Zena on operations against the scattered Imperials, effectively serving as her second in command.
• Imik Vebbar - A former slave of the Empire, the Mon Calamari fought to liberate his homeworld from Imperial control. He then took up arms besides Zena to continue the fight in other sectors. Imik serves as the medic for Vorn Tiger squad.
• Bima Leapfar - An ex Imperial slave, turned hunter of Imperials. Despite her short stature at 1.5 meters the Nosaurianis quick on her feet and deadly with her rifle. She serves as the squad's sniper, often leading recon ahead of the rest of the squad. Bima is equipped with an E-11s sniper rifle, having taken one of the Empire's signature firearms to use against them.
• Dakkar - The muscle of Vorn Tiger squad, Dakkar was briefly employed as a slave by the Empire before he broke away and joined the Rebellion. The imposing Yuzzem stands at seven feet in height with enough strength to hipfire a DLT-19 heavy blaster rifle with relative precision. He is the team's chief machine gunner.

Character's name: Kotan Vil



Race: Clawdite

Faction: Independent Systems

Character Alignment: Neutral / Dark

Character Background: Kotan Vil didn't come from nothing. She came from less then nothing.

Born on Zolan a few years after the rise of the Galactic Empire, her family was already living as second-class citizens under the oppressive rule of the Zolanders when Imperial Intelligence, fearing the shapeshifting Clawdites would use their abilities against the Empire, blockaded the planet and provided passive support to the ruling class to keep their recalcitrant shapeshifters in line. She lost her father, a former Captain in the Confederate Navy, to an Imperial firing squad when she was little, and her mother vanished into a Zolan death camp for 'subversive activities' a year later, leaving her to fend for herself and do what she could to survive. It was a wretched experience, but it wasn't enough to break her, not until she could pay the Empire back ten times over for what they did to her.

When she was barely a teenager, she got her chance almost on accident when she witnessed a TIE Fighter lose control and crash near where she was holed up. Making sure the pilot was dead in the most direct way possible, she stole the pilot's suit and activated the ruined fighter's distress signal. "ZA-592" was chastised for his carelessness in causing the crash and sent back on duty, and when "ZA-592" failed to show up to his duty shift the next day, "Captain Olien" was directing his Tartan Patrol Cruiser back to the shipyards of Kuat for scheduled repairs, only to be diverted to hunt down a rebel task force operating in the area.

Needless to say, when the rebels were accosted by Captain Olien in his far superior ship only for the Imperial officer to immediately surrender and reveal her true identity, they were immediately impressed with the inherent talents of the wily Clawdite and she was given command of the very ship she stole to fight the Empire. Kotan Vil quickly earned a reputation as a daring battlefield commander even at such a young age, spearheading raids on Imperial supply lines when she wasn't personally leading infiltration missions deep into Empire controlled territory. Kotan's staunch, almost fanatical hatred of the Empire earned her allies among the more radical elements in the Rebellion, and as she grew more experienced she came to realize that her prodigal skill and ability to deceive the weak-minded was more then just luck or tenacity; she was force-sensitive, inadvertently calling on these abilities to help her fool the weak-minded and catch glimpses of the future.

The war wasn't over after Endor though, least of all for Kotan. The Imperial Remnants still lived, and she received word that her home Zolan was on the brink of civil war in the wake of the blockade's collapse. She petitioned loudly for the New Republic to send a fleet to liberate her people before they were slaughtered by the Zolanders and their Imperial puppet-masters, but she was met with silence; the Grand Moff who oversaw the blockade was in talks with the New Republic to surrender, and they couldn't risk provoking him while the negotiations were ongoing. Kotan went anyway, taking her ship and whoever else would join. It would have been a battle like any other, a triumphant victory to add to the dozens she possessed, but when the Moff realized the fight was not going his way, rather then surrender or turn tail, he chose to hold the planet hostage, threatening to slaughter millions with his Star Destroyer's photon beam. At the height of the standoff, a transmission came in from the New Republic; she was ordered to stand down and surrender, the Moff wasn't to be touched.

Seeing the New Republic back down to curry favor with a madman threatening mass slaughter shattered her faith in the fledgling Republic, and in a moment of pure instinct and vengeful rage, she turned around and crushed the Moff's throat with the power of the Force. It made her a pariah to the forces of the New Republic, but to the downtrodden and especially to her own people, it made her a hero, perhaps moreso then she ever was in the Rebellion, and her re-emergence in the camp of the Neimoidian princess Pomda Duigro, a prominent figure in the growing independence movement, has proven to be quite a draw for those who find the New Republic's image to be tarnished.

Character Personality: At first glance, Kotan Vil comes across as rather quiet and contemplative, quietly working away or thinking over her actions before moving, showing a particular talent with the Force as well as combat, strategy, and piloting. Like any proper Clawdite though, it's clear on a second look that there's something beneath the surface. Sometimes it's a burst of childlike wonder at something new, or a inspiring and decisive command that turns the tide and saves the day. Other times it's something darker, giving into a fit of vengeance or fury, oftentimes turned against the old Empire and those who show loyalty to it. Her enemies say she's wicked, a bloodthirsty firebrand enslaved by her own anger and given in to the dark side, and her admirers say she's a revolutionary, a woman deeply concerned with the plight of those left broken and scarred by the Empire.

Character's Physical description: When she's wearing her own face, she looks like your typical Clawdite with the reptilian green skin, sunken cheeks, and large golden eyes with slit-like pupils, while her hair tends to remain black and styled in a short pixie-ish cut. She's fairly tall for her age but rather scrawny, and when she isn't forced to wear her uniform she tends to stick to her usual casual attire (disregarding the sniper rifle of course).

Character Class: Force Sensitive

Items:
-A reliable DL-18 blaster at her hip, just in case.
-A red synth-crystal, a gift from a friend kept for good luck. Yet to be used.
-Mirage, her personal star ship. A prototype that was meant to respond to the popular A-wing design, it's a strong air-superiority fighter with a suite of interference jammers that makes tracking and firing on the ship with lock-on technology difficult. This version has been modified with better armor and a hyperdrive, pushing it more towards a general purpose role.

Supporting Characters:

-Akula: A female Gen'Dai who worked as a mercenary during the Clone Wars and the early days of the Empire before falling in with the Rebellion. Standing four feet over most other species and bedecked in heavy armor (and inexplicably an imperial cap on top of her armored helmet), she stoically goes into battle armed with a clone marine's chaingun and enough thermal detonators to blow a hole clean through a Star Destroyer. Perhaps because of their mutual hatred of the Empire, the two quickly became friends and despite a lucrative arrangement hunting down Imperial holdouts following the defeat of the Empire, Akula readily dropped everything to join her old friend in her defection.
-Lady Pomda Duigro: A Neimoidian noblewoman who orchestrated the overthrow of the Kuati families following the collapse of the Empire, taking their place as master of the Kuat Shipyards. With an eye towards her own power and at least publicly supportive of harsher measures against the remnants of the old empire, she's since become a strong voice in the Independence movement and has even gone so far as to ally herself with the controversial Kotan Vil.
-Zo Kalurr: A Nautolan female, obstensively Pomda Duigro's bodyguard but given her proven ability as a commander in the last years of the Rebellion pretty much everyone suspects she is in place to become a Captain or Admiral in the space fleet of Duigro's independent Kuat. Similar experiences in the war meant she struck up a fast friendship with Kotan, one that soon became much more then a simple friendship.

Character's name: Kott Sidoni

Race: Corellian

Faction: Imperial Remnant

Character Alignment (Choose one): Neutral

Character Background: Kott was born to a ship engineering family, both of his parents helped design the large battleships. Like most Corellians he learned to fly at an early age and started to follow in his parent’s footsteps. His childhood was fun, loving and natural.
After leaving Corellia on a freighter-ship, Kott ended up on the wrong side of a dispute with some Imperial Freight Checkers and had to enlist as a Storm Trooper to wipe away his debt. After getting a taste of aerial combat, Kott stayed as an Imperial Pilot.

Character Personality: Typical of a Corellian, Kott has a certain cunning and pragmatism that has served him well. He weighs the risk and reward of every action, sometimes bordering on reckless. Kott wont think twice about killing, especially in a starfighter.

Character's Physical description:

Character Class (choose one): Soldier

Items-
DH-17 Blaster Pistol
E-11 Blaster Rifle

Supporting Characters:

Character's name: Kott Sidoni

Race: Corellian

Faction: Imperial Remnant

Character Alignment (Choose one): Neutral

Character Background: Kott was born to a ship engineering family, both of his parents helped design the large battleships. Like most Corellians he learned to fly at an early age and started to follow in his parent’s footsteps. His childhood was fun, loving and natural.
After leaving Corellia on a freighter-ship, Kott ended up on the wrong side of a dispute with some Imperial Freight Checkers and had to enlist as a Storm Trooper to wipe away his debt. After getting a taste of aerial combat, Kott stayed as an Imperial Pilot.

Character Personality: Typical of a Corellian, Kott has a certain cunning and pragmatism that has served him well. He weighs the risk and reward of every action, sometimes bordering on reckless. Kott wont think twice about killing, especially in a starfighter.

Character's Physical description:

Character Class (choose one): Soldier

Items-
DH-17 Blaster Pistol
E-11 Blaster Rifle

Supporting Characters:

Name: Darth Diabolus

Alias: A whole host of false names, the current one being Zaras.

Race: Human

Faction: Sith Lord

Alignment: Evil

Class: Force Sensitive (Sith)

Appearance:

On the surface, he is but a man, a human being of decent appearance. His skin is light, his hair is kept, he appears ultimately sophisticated and well-refined. The main thing about the man is that while he carries a singularly-handsome visage and well-trained form on the outside, the fact is that this man has chosen to identify himself by an ancient human phrase referring to him as the Devil, or at least that of a demon. He is changeable, ultimately well-skilled in manipulations, misdirections, alterations in attitude and attire to throw off suspicion and blend in. The power of the Force has granted him much over the years, but his practice is never to depend too much on it unless you really need it. That is why the obsessive attention to details with great scrutiny and the body that is nimble and forceful, able to get in and out of a situation. You may see him somewhere, and you may even know him by some chosen monniker, but you have never met the man until you've seen his darker face, his crueler wit, and felt his dreadful fear for yourself.

Personality:

How many jigsaw puzzles can you stand? How many odious details may you absorb? Do you have time? Does anyone? Diabolus is a man who operates in the shadow, even if he's standing out in the open to do it. You do not see him taking a position of power. If you see him at all, he is the man off to the side who is seen working FOR those in power, carefully guiding them towards his own ends. What power in politics is worth the exposure, when you can stay quiet, pretend to know nothing, and let another take the fall if your plans go wild? He is a most ingenious form of manipulator. Lies and half-truths? Easy. Open-faced honesty with a carefully-concealed ulterior motive? His bread and butter. He is a thinking man, well-educated and prone to using it with only a slight push with the Force to get people to believe they're deciding on their own to do what he wants them to do. A sound argument is better than a jaded falsehood, so why not encourage it to your own benefit? It is by this method which he often throws peons and Apprentices into action, with not a single hand raised against him because he makes good sense. His power is extensive, but it is for when he truly needs it...or wishes to crush a fly.

Sith have their dark motivators, their bloodlust, and their anger, but...when you put that in a far more subtle man than many of those people combined, you find an odd sense of patience that quietly chuckles in the darkness at fools, greatly pleased to see plans come to fruition, looking forward to the ultimate diversion, the great struggle of life itself. For it is a fact that while Darth Diabolus is a man of power and capability, one who could most-certainly obtain power and glory in excess, these are not what he ultimately wants. His goal is that moment of pure clarity and terror where one must struggle to the core with what lay before them. His is to delight in the creation of dangerous, horrible, and yes even monstrous situations, to play his part in the rending of lives and stability in every way possible. As much as Tarak revels in bloodshed, so does he himself enjoy shock, despair, fear, turmoil, and strife. And of course, he must naturally sample that most wonderous flavor of all...the sweet taste of victory over all foes.

Items:

Black Light Saber - A single-bladed light saber made matte black to reduce reflection and therefore prevent much sight of it, especially in the dark. This is especially important, as it is a saber lit by a Black Krayt Dragon Pearl. Indeed, the weapon is that of a man who does not fear, because he is in control of fear.

The Dread Accomplice - His ship, secreted away somewhere that no man would dare tread, away from prying eyes and intruding spies, set up to entrap and destroy all who enter unauthorized. It is...not a pleasant place to be, if you are not Sith. Over the years, the dark emotional states radiated by Sith (himself included) have made it harmful to others. Much has been done in the name of the Dark Side aboard this ship, and it's been more than simply housing this man. It apart from the normal utilities, it is geared for training purposes, genetic experimentation, longterm stasis, and a number of other Sith-related things. Not designed necessarly for war, the fact is that it was once a science vessel. Now, there is still science, but it goes deeper than that, and all the more maddening.

The Benefit of His Manipulations - Diabolus winds his way in and out of positions, good places and bad to achieve his own ends. To that effect, he is acquiring the goods and services of others, which may vary greatly and therefore be difficult to record all the time. Let us just say, for the moment, that he can achieve quite alot through normal means and resources...and that he seeks a great deal more for his plans.

Background:

Little is known of the man that is not subject to rumor and misinformation, and so his personal history is rather suspect. Nevertheless, herein lies the compiled information and theories of the man they call Diabolus, Dark Lord of the Sith.

Many long years ago, there was a Sith Empire at war with the Jedi and The Old Republic, and in those days there was a being, a creature, among the Sith who would claim to be nothing less than their god. That was Darth Vitiate, Emperor of the Sith. However...behind every greater power or personality, standing quite calmly in the shadows of louder and more oppressive voices...are those who quietly mind to themselves and make their own plans. For every God, there is a Devil, or a Demon, or a Trickster, or a dangerous meddler, assassin, or saboteur. That man is Diabolus, or it was, for that was a VERY long time ago.

What of the man, then? Can he still be alive? Or is the one today a different person, entirely? Theories are posed. One states that Diabolus lived in the time of the Sith Empire, attained some sort of enhancement to his body to never age or degrade physically, and has simply lived his way to the present, ever-watchful of his surroundings. Another puts forth the idea that he operates as a Sith ghost, possessing victim after victim in on his march towards eternity. Further still, some believe it is but a name, a title, and training forcefully passed on from subject to subject, making certain by ages-old edicts that Darth Diabolus should exist in every generation forever. Still, whether immortal or brainwashed by Holocrons or cloned or - god help us - being another creature like Vitiate, the fact of the matter is that we have this man who is singularly knowledgable and capable, a very dangerous.

It is important to know that Diabolus has taken the time to devour knowledge, though he does seem to be most adept in combat theory and tactics, history, medical and genetic sciences, psychology, and of course a great deal of Sith-based information. As opposed to being a typical ragoholic, Diabolus is quietly mad. His mind craves the destruction and despair of those around him, ultimately leading to a dominating power in fear. He does not reserve this for his compatriots, Sith Apprentices, but for those who are so fervently in his way. Should it be much easier to cut them down, he would derive much pleasure in watching their minds collapse as their bodies writhe upon the floor before the inevitable cardiac arrest...assuming he has not decided to simply torture and watch. Diabolus is a mind bomb. When not using his intellect to manipulate others and push forward in his agenda, he is unleashing such emotional dread that only experienced Jedi have the will to strike. Those who do not have control over themselves who know how to properly embrace the dark flow of terror and emotion find their bodies quitting and their minds filling with sensations ultimately destructive to their senses. It is not his only power, but it is his strongest, followed closely by manipulation, and then direct combat skills.

Those who know him - especially Apprentices - find that on a calm day, he is teacher, careful planner, obliging ally, and even humorous on occasion. On a bad day...he is venomous, murderous, sadistic, and quite vindictive towards an obstacle to his immediate plans. He can, has, and will again destroy many in a satisfying manner, showed they prove problematic to his own designs. Never to his own Apprentices, for they are his swords whom he will well-maintain to assure their quality and reliability, but to any Sith answering to the foolish and idiotic Rule of Two, he will make certain that the understanding of why standing alone or in a paltry two is a hopeless struggle in the universe. More is better, and so he has gone to worlds to find others who are useful to him, as well as engineering the one called Darth Tarak. Quite a few plans riding on the viability of that one. Diabolus has been researching for some time the viability of the Force in species, preparing for the battle to end all battles that will destroy the balance of the Force forever. He has seen the way it could be done, over the years. The study is complete. Only the resources remain...and the plan can go forth.

Supporting Characters:

Darth Tarak - His straightforward Apprentice, a Zabrak whose name and identity as a Sith are the same because he has had no given name before then and no reason to disassociate from who he really is. Zabrak were the creations of the Rakata to become great inheritors of the Force, and it is Diabolus' wish that this be expressed greatly through this man, as he created him.

No End of Ordinary People - He manipulates many towards his own ends, and so therefore many could be considered supportive to him. To that end, it is difficult to list who he is working with now or maybe in the next few days. The best answer would be 'People who can deliver him closer to his goals'.

Further Apprentices - Diabolus hates the Rule of Two, believing it has made the Sith feeble in power and influence over the galaxy. Sith are an ambitious and potentially backstabbing sort, but he has a way of supporting goals so that they may not be irritated that their Master plays them the fool. With little to no gripes to speak of, there is no reason to question his lead, as the man is indeed committed to Sith superiority.

Character's name: Moff Elliott Drak

Race: Human

Faction: Imperial Remnant, holds Mandalorian Space

Character Alignment: Evil

Character Background: Drak was established as the governor of Mandalore after its occupation, since it was decided to be too rebellious to allow its own government. Through his reign, the Mandalorians were oppressed a great deal, the reasoning mostly unknown. Most assumed he had a prejudice, but nothing was ever confirmed. However, about 18 years after his take over and several promotions, the Mandalorians attempted a mass revolt, which lead to what Historians classify as the Great Purge. Moff Drak lead the Great Purge, after it was greenlit by the Emperor, and through a series of months slowly genocided the people, erasing their culture and history. Much was lost, with little remaining between the small pockets of Mandalorians that still exist. The planet of Mandalore is still occupied, along with several other planets and systems around it, even after the Emperor's death. Moff Drak rules over his domain with an iron fist and does whatever in his power to ensure his power remains his.

Character Personality: Cold, uncaring, efficient. Moff Drak is the epitome of the concept "The End justifies the means." He will do all in his power to achieve his goals, even if that requires destroying everything around him. He is a cruel man, that cares very little about anything besides himself.

Character's Physical description: A tall man with an angular face and piercing eyes. He wears a small goatee and his hair has greyed from age.

Character Class: Bureaucrat

Items: Dozens of pilfered Mandalorian artifacts, a number of smelted Beskar ingots and a small fleet orbiting the sector.

Huc's greatest and most prized possession is the YT-2000 Light Freighter named Corellian Dawn. This fast, strong, and shielded ship has gotten him and his crew out of countless jams, and is quickly becoming both famous and infamous depending on what side of the conflict one is on.

Gor-Nada has done many enhancements on the ship, including supercharging the sublight engines, adding a small ion cannon used to disable prey, and a quick locking/unlocking airlock system for fast getaways.

Yu'li is Huc's closest friend and confidant. She has traveled and fought by his side since he helped liberate her from the Corellian Shipyards as an Imperial slave. She knows exactly how to push his buttons, and her mischievous side enjoys getting on his nerves. Like Huc, she lost her parents, though she does not know if they are alive or dead, as they were all split up when they were put into slavery. She hopes to one day find them, and Huc hopes to be able to help her do so. In battle she is a crack shot, and often mans one of the gun turrets on the Dawn when needed.

The massive Herglic Gor-Nada is the conscience of the crew. Slow to anger and reluctant to participate in violence if it can be avoided, he is the steady hand that guides the younger, more impetuous views of Huc and Yu'li. He is a mechanical whiz, and keeps the Dawn running at peak efficiency. He protects his family when necessary, and is terrifying when angered. He loves to cook, and insists on doing so by hand whenever he can. He is also a gardener, and has installed terrariums on the Dawn.

AC-DK, or "Duck" as he is known by the crew, was a former Star Tours commercial starliner AC series pilot droid. Huc "acquired" him from a bet with a Star Tours representative during the Boonta Eve Classic podrace on Tattooine. While Duck continues to insist the representative had no legal right to wager him and claims he is stolen property, he acts as the Dawn's copilot non the less. While Huc has done his best to slice it out of him, his commercial pilot programming often has him uncomfortable with Huc's more risky flying style.

A domesticated Loth-cat that is devoted to her master, Yu'li. She does not like Huc.

Star Wars: Legacies Character Sheet

Character's name: M4-LG, aka "Malg," short for "Amalgamation."

Race: Junk Droid

Faction: New Republic

Character Alignment: Chaotic Good/Chaotic Neutral

Character Background: Malg began as nothing. A long-disabled 2-1B medical droid that was tossed into a junk heap Maker-knows how long ago. Malg's former life is a complete mystery: His memory was almost completely blank when he began his second life. His medical database and his vocoder's Galactic Basic dictionary were the only data still intact. Worse still, when he awoke, crawling out of a pile of other droids, he was missing his legs. They had been cleanly taken off. His body was rusting, his systems were displaying countless errors, and yet...he accepted it, for a while. Just assuming that the error messages were normal, that this junk heap filled with corrosive runoff and random machine parts was the only world there was, that he had always been meant to crawl on his belly and drag himself forward with his hands.

So, for two days, he wandered the wastes, crawling over piles of parts he didn't recognize, trying to fight off the pangs of what he didn't know was loneliness, experimenting with the countless strange devices he could find lying around. Things like blaster pistols and servomotors and landspeeders. None of them worked, and the few that did tended to explode, so he stopped after the first three explosions.

Then, he encountered the first other beings he had ever seen. They were a group of what he recognized as Rodians, covered in gear made of metal, wielding contraptions he'd seen in the junk heaps before. The young, nameless junk droid could recognize Basic when he heard it. Watching them from a vantage point atop a cliff, he heard them discussing "hauls" and "junk" and "crazy killer junk droids." He could infer what they were talking about: They were rooting around in the body parts for useful stuff. And a junk droid...well, that was him, wasn't it?

But he wasn't crazy. He was sane! There was nothing crazy about him! And he hadn't killed anyone!

His thoughts were interrupted, however, by the sudden arrival of a...thing. A shrieking, horrible thing, made of the same parts found in the junkyard. The same parts he was made of. Before he could warn the Rodians, it was already upon them. It killed one, and the nameless droid could track with absolute horror every gruesome injury the Rodian recieved. He was dead. Permanently offline.

The shrieking horror was quickly put down by fire from another Rodian's heavy repeater, only for more of them to suddenly appear. Each one was made from thousands of different droids. These...things...were disgusting, ruthless, and, well, murderous. Just like they had said.

The legless medical droid knew he could not fight them. He knew now that he was incomplete, that there were parts lying around here that not only worked, but were dangerous enough that these things were capable of taking down heavily-armed organics. The shouts and dying screams of the Rodians, the whine of blasters, the shrieking junk droids, the blood, guts and burnt metal--it would haunt the droid for the rest of his life.

As he crawled away, hoping against hope that he wasn't seen, he began to formulate dark plans. He would survive, at all costs, no matter how many of these things he needed to put down. These Rodians were not native to Raxus Prime, according to his database. They had arrived from somewhere...off-world, maybe? His database was full of things he didn't completely understand, but there was a cursory mention of the worlds each species came from, if only to understand local diseases, and how a change of envrironment could cause problems for some species.

But that meant there were more worlds out there. Places that were not this hellhole.

He was filled with new resolve. He would scavenge the wastes for parts. He would gather strength and knowledge through those parts, gain enough to fend off these killer junk droids, and make damn sure he wouldn't become like them in the process. And then, he swore, he would find a way off this twisted heap of metal and pain, or die trying.

And so, he did. He painstakingly experimented with part after part, learning how to handle errors and incompatibilities in the most dangerous way possible. He unearthed comlinks, holo-projectors, datapads and mainframes, and with scomp links and a lot of trial and error, he cracked their systems and gathered as much information as he could about the galaxy beyond. He fought off, or hid from, packs of feral droids, and the odd organic driven mad from isolation. And he had no-one to depend on but himself.

He survived, against insurmountable odds, for over two standard years. He eventually became such an amalgamation that he decided to name himself M4-LG, or "Malg." Because he knew that he needed a name if he was to survive on the other worlds. But the more he learned about those other worlds, the more he began to second-guess himself. Here he was, an independent being with no directives left. And yet, he was going to be someone's property at best out there. What was even the point? At least on Raxus Prime he had freedom. Wouldn't it be better to live out his days in solitude, where no-one could make him their slave?

Then he'd have a deadly encounter with a junk droid and he would soon change his tune, at least for a time.

The worst part was the loneliness. There wasn't a single friend out in the wastes. There were natives, but they were too obssessed with their industrial work, and would usually avoid him or try to kill him as a murderous junk droid. There were other droids, but they were all the very murderous psychopaths that the Raxians feared.

But eventually, he'd managed it. All by himself, he had refurbished a junked freighter, and turned it into something that would...hopefully fly? It was as up to code as he could possibly make it. He'd experimented by shooting junk droids with ion pistols and loading them into refurbished starfighters rigged up to a remote ignition mechanism to see if he'd gotten the principles down. His last few tests didn't result in an explosion, so...maybe this thing would work with him inside it?

And, thank the Maker, the Heap flew on its maiden voyage! This was Malg's pride and joy, and he'd studied up on everything he needed to know to get it working, and not die. He'd placed all of his belongings inside of it, he'd made it as comfortable as he could. Aaaaaaand he ended up crash-landing on Tatooine, perhaps the worst place for a droid to crash-land on. Thankfully he survived the impact with only minor damage.

He only had a few hours to get his bearings before the Jawas arrived. They had ion pistols, but he had four arms, his own blasters, and far more combat experience. He killed every last one of them, and stole everything they had on them. Taking their credits, he waltzed into town, shocking the populace. This misshapen droid just walked out of a crash-landing from a junked freighter. Malg was going to raise suspicions. The only thing Malg wanted at that point though was an oil bath. He had never had one in his entire life, and it showed.

While he was on the way, though, he saw an organic, a human this time, keel over in the middle of the road. Wasting no time, he worked on the patient as best he could. The authorities--or what passed for the authorities on Tatooine--soon arrived, and Malg later learned it was thanks to his efforts that the human, an old man, had survived.

The old man, one Codyell Cromay, later came looking for Malg, who was busy repairing his ship at the time, and thanked the droid for saving his life, asking what he would like in return. Malg said that he was thinking about opening up a medical practice, but had no way to get started, being a random junk droid on Tatooine with only a few credits to his name. Turned out that the man owned a major moisture farming concern, and could get Malg set up.

And so he did. With Codyell's credits, Malg opened a small clinic on Tatooine, and would treat anyone who came in. He made a killing, though some didn't really like the idea of a junked medical droid operating totally independently. But when it was a detractor's life on the line, they quickly ate their words when Malg saved their skin. He gained a reputation as one of the best sawbones on Tatooine, which attracted the attention of local crime boss Trazz the Hutt. Trazz was actually quite a sickly man, as he had been struggling with lingering complications after a failed poisoning attempt for the last several years. He'd survived the poison, but was wracked with long-lasting pain and illness after the fact, and eventually, it would kill him.

Trazz had sought every doctor he could get his hands on, using any means he could to prolong his life. He was even willing to kidnap skilled doctors and force them to help him at gunpoint. And so, he "sought out" Malg's help. Unfortunately, Codyell had taken a few blaster shots from a local footpad and was currently on the operating table when a bunch of armed enforcers burst into Malg's office and started raiding the place looking for him. In the ensuing gunfight, Codyell was tragically killed by a stray blaster bolt to the brain, leading Malg to fly into a rage. He emptied his E-11's power pack into all but one of them, and, after running out of ammo, used his labor droid arm, ripped the blaster out of the last man's hand, and crushed his blaster pistol like a tin can right before his eyes. He would have probably beaten him to death for killing Malg's first friend, until the terrified man surrendered, explained why he came here, and offered Malg any information he wanted.

After the man spilled the beans, Malg threw him onto the sandy curb, yelling, "TELL TRAZZ THAT IF HE COMES AFTER ME AGAIN, HE'S A DEAD MAN!" The enforcer ran off, screaming.

Malg knew he had to get off Tatooine. He probably only had a few hours before Trazz found out and ordered him consigned to the droid torture chambers. Thankfully, he had built up a lot of credits and a lot of connections. He contacted Codyell's family to explain the situation, gave his condolences and told his wife the location of the office so that Codyell could get a proper burial, and wished them farewell. Then he grabbed everything he could carry, got into the now-pristine-and-refurbished Heap, and flew off into the reaches of space.

Then, he sought to join the Rebel Army. He'd have friends in the Rebels. It was better than being alone, and there was no way in hell he'd join the Imperials, if they'd even let him in. He served as a combat medic in the Rebel Army, and then in the New Republic, and is fighting against the Imperial Remnant to this day in his own special way, while dealing with Trazz's assassins and bounty hunters.

Character Personality-(Give a solid description on how your character acts, their morals, etc): Malg is, above all, self-reliant to a fault. He is fiercely independent, sometimes to the point of violence: To attempt to fit a restraining bolt onto him is to invite him to punch you in the face with a metal arm as big as your head. He refuses to enter anyone's service as anything less than an employee or a partner, and has taken extreme precautions to avoid and even recover from a memory wipe. He also values true friends more than anything in the entire world; He had to live out the first two years of his life utterly and completely alone. He knows full-well what crippling loneliness feels like, and wouldn't wish it on anyone. He also absolutely despises slavers of any kind, though he's smart enough to recognize that blindly trying to free every droid and slave is too much for one man. So he's resolved to work from within the system to try and get droid rights recognized as a veteran soldier of the New Republic.

Character's Physical Description: Malg is an ugly, bizarre-looking droid. He looks like a 2-1B medical droid...from the neck up. It's when you look below the neck that he starts to look increasingly strange. He has four arms: Two 2-1B arms, one labor droid arm, and one Super Battle Droid arm. His chest is a hybrid of his original 2-1B torso (complete with medical and diagnostic computer) and countless extra parts he picked up on Raxus Prime. At this point, his torso is stuffed to the brim with extra crap. It can fit no more. Every piece of extra space has been utilized. This also makes him much heavier than normal 1st-degree droid legs can carry, causing him to resort to B2 Super Battle Droid legs, since they're both relatively mobile and capable of supporting a heavy frame.

Character Class: Scoundrel/Soldier (has aspects of both)

Items: Malg's greatest asset is himself. Malg's head and core systems are that of a 21-B medical droid, but he has physically transcended far beyond that. Mental safeguards have been removed, he has backup memory matrices from other droids hidden in his chassis to restore himself in an instant should he be memory-wiped, he's loaded with tools and equipment to both heal organics and repair himself at a moment's notice, and every component has been tweaked and modified (both by himself and those he trusts) to perform better and last longer. As he is now, calling him a "junk droid" would only be technically correct, in that most of his parts originally came from the junk heaps of Raxus Prime. He performs on the level of a refurbished droid by this point, one with parts from medical, astromech, protocol, labor, and even combat droids. He's even had durasteel plating added to help him take a punch in the field, and a speed-holster in his right leg to draw his trusty Clone Wars-vintage DC-17 blaster pistol, a speed-holster in his left leg that contains a Naboo-vintage Ascension Gun, and a custom speed-holster that takes up part of the left side of his torso to draw an E-11 blaster rifle. Yes, the "stormtrooper rifle." Sue him, it's compact! He also carries four vibroknives on him, for those cases where melee is needed, a task for which his four arms are more than sufficient. Then there's the survival kit he's had installed, which has aided his New Republic companions more than once when fresh water or a quick fire was needed. The fire igniter has also come in handy for combat, obviously.

Malg has four installed arms from three different droids, leading to a generally misshapen and lopsided look, as one of these arms is from a labor droid and thus larger than all three of the others. Two of them are original 21-B arms, typically used for delicate work and holding blaster pistols, and the fourth is from a Super Battle Droid and thus would in theory have the included missile launcher mechanism and wrist blaster. These have actually been removed: Missiles compatible with Super Battle Droid missile launchers are hard to come by, and the wrist blaster had been wrenched out by some other droid when he found it. He's thus modified the missile launcher mechanism to deploy, accept, and activate chem-injecting devices such as bacta pumps, to administer medication quickly to a dying patient. He carries several of these needles on him in place of missiles, ejecting them from the port like shell casings after use (no use in sharing needles, after all). He could theoretically swap the payload out with any liquid substance if he wanted to, including deadly toxins or industrial chemicals, but he hasn't tried it for obvious ethical reasons. He also has installed a Clone Commando shield generator, which is a fairly weak shield generator but one that his overstuffed chassis can support, and a protocol droid vocabulator in his head, giving him handy translation abilities. He's got the obligatory scomp link as well, allowing him to interface with most devices and engage in slicing if he desires, though his technological skills mainly lie in modification and repair, meaning he's not as good at outright slicing as he is at forcing his way through software and hardware incompatibilities, though he can slice through lower-security machines like datapads.

He also owns his very own junk freighter, the Heap, which is his home even after the formation of the New Republic. Despite its origins on Raxus Prime, it's a bit of a Ship of Theseus situation: Most of its parts have been replaced by this point, and it's actually quite comfortable to live in. It's not palatial or anything, but it's got everything an organic or droid alike would want: Its own oil bath, a kitchen, all the desired amenities, escape pods, weapon systems, a shield generator, all the usual game and entertainment systems, and even a king-size bed!

Supporting Characters: WIP. Not sure if I'll use them at all.

Character's name: Darth Simula
Race: Zabrak
Character Alignment: Evil

Character Background
Simula was originally Iridonian, but was a Nightbrother. He was shipped to Darthomir by the Nightsisters. His childhood was spent tilling vegetation and mining for his masters. If that was not enough, on his time away from the mines, he wrestled with his peers and he encountered many different monsters that roamed the land. Then, his day came and he was asked to show up at the Nightsisters mountainous temple.

He arrived early the morning of the trials and brushed off at how uncaring and evil the masters were. He had been observed in a fistfight and while he battled the other Nightbrother many rocks nearby levitated and then dropped. He was not aware of this, so it was analyzed that he did indeed have some Force power.

There was power in him from working on Dathomir, but the Nightsisters needed evidence that the young Simula could serve the dark side. A sith apprentice had been dispatched to the home world of young Simula to test him over a week long casting. He was given a non-lethal lightsaber and told to attack. He had no clue what he was going and got his face planted in the dirt. However, the apprentice noted Simula showed inner strength in the way of rage and greed. He completed his week long run.

He returned to working and fighting beasts for a little bit of time. The Sith apprentice showed up and carried him away. Simula was taken to Korriban. When he arrived he tried to communicate with another young dark sider and he was slapped. Then, he jumped and the two beat each other for several minutes. Later on, he saw the boy that pushed him and they shook hands. The new Sith apprentice was not from Dathomir for the sake of it. He could scrap.

Simula did well his first year. He managed to murder one apprentice in a private duel. It had been nearly a year since he did it and he began to realize that he was becoming the real thing. He remained praciticing his powers and his swordsmanship. He could preform telepathy, and used it to control his duelist's minds to bedumb them and strike them with his lasersword.

While he pushed forward in his training, SImula showed promise in Nimen combat. Such training was dubbed completed, along with doing good work with the style Atura. He was called impulsive and told that the trait was both good and evil, but he received high marks on his disciplined combat styles. He also had a lot of will by showing that his psionic powers were great compared to many of his peers.

After a while Simula decided that he was trained enough to explore the galaxy as a rouge Sith. He left Korriban and headed to his home world Dathomir. There he found that most of the Nightsisters were dismantled. He encountered several survivors that told him about Sith lords burning the place down. He had a brother called Phinix that was slain, and felt hate and rage. But, he would not pursue the culprit. The culprit had done much more good than bad.

Next, he hopped aboard a layman's transport ship and journeyed to Nar Shaddaa. His purpose was to rob and steal as much as possible so he could buy transports, and other things. When he arrived he laid low for a few days while he cased the casinos and the Hutt bookies. Then, over two days he robbed property that was substantial to his own means. He didn't know how much he needed, so he took it all. And before he boarded his ship he had droids that attacked him, and he disposed of them. It was his first fight and he saw victory.

When he arrived at his next destination he experienced one of his very first insights. He felt something alerting him that danger was around the corner. He was on Tatoonie, and he was there to kill and rob anything that looked valuable. He went into one, then two, then another and another. Darth Simula murdered unsuspecting, innocent people as fast as he could swing his lightsaber. The militia unit present on the city quickly armed themselves for lightweight armor and appeared in the middle of the street and pushed him back, causing him to collapse and run away. He hid.

He was uncontrollably enraged, and he stayed a night before he bought another ride. He did not speak the entire transport. In enough time, he resurfaced on Korriban. The masters at the place scolded him and beat him, but acknowledged that he had handled himself well. He apologized while he cried and screamed in agony while they reprimanded. But, his wish come true. He was appointed to an elder Dark Lord called Darth Zaras.

Character Personality
He has never had a good life. He was brought up a slave and then turned out to be a practicioner of the dark side of the Force. His hate, his anger, and all the other anxieties he once was troubled by contributed to his dark path success.

Darth Simula tries to stay levelheaded. He doesn't believe in hard punishment but is strict depending on the scale of failure he confronts. He is not uncontrollable, but finds that total control must be enforced in many different ways, be it addressing a smuggler or an issued order. He does not like to fail in particular, which he is known to be his largest critic. He is narrowminded, but respects liberal viewpoints. Murder is something he perpetrated at the academy and, if it is an order, he gladly carries out the hit.

His disposition is a quiet one. Where other people find love, he finds lust. Where they find admiration, he finds jealousy. When people find something gross, Darth Simula finds it normal. Where people find something to share, he would rather keep it all for himself. And when good is found, he looks into it for evil that may lie within.

Character Class
Force Sensitive (Sith)

Items
Simula carries a single red lightsaber, a scoped blaster pistol, holocomm, currency

Supporting Characters
Darth Diabolus is Simula's master. The two met shortly after Simula returned to Korriban not only having been chased out of Tatoonie, but was found guilty of being a traitor. Diabolus felt a bit of sympathy for the young Zabrak, and offered him a second chance. The training incepted that day, and the two have been Master and Apprentice since then. Darth Diabolus also has another apprentice, Tarak. All of the trials and shake downs have been endured, the Simula and Tarak have pledged to always serve their Master.

Race: Human (Cyborg)

Faction: Imperial Remnant/C-CNO

Character Alignment: Lawful Evil

Character Background:

Born in Anaxes to a historied military family, Jadal Thrax and his siblings were raised on tales of glorious ancestors and military discipline for as long as he could remember. There was no question which path his parents had set out for him and his siblings. The Thrax had been soldiers ever since the earliest days of Anaxes, and they would continue to be soldiers until the very stars died out.

Jadal had no issue with that. If anything, the thought of a life in uniform drove was what drove the young boy forward. Order, discipline, camaraderie, sacrifice. All in the name of a greater cause. What else could one ask for?

It was with that mindset that Jadal Thrax enrolled in the Anaxes War College. And though family influence and wealth secured him a place there, it was his own near manic obsessive effort that earned praise from his instructors and convinced them that the young man would have a brilliant career in the Judicials or the planetary defense forces.

It was during these years that the young Jadal received the first of many cybernetics. A training accident cost him his right leg. But that did nothing to dampen his enthusiasm and dedication. If anything, now he had the additional challenge of proving that he was still the same overachiever as before.

By the time he graduated, Jadal added a robotic hand to his growing portfolio. Result of an unfortunate infection during a long term wilderness survival training exercise. Undaunted, the young man joined the Judicial Corps, ready to do his duty and give flight to his childhood dreams.

The sad reality hit him harder than most. Underfunded, understaffed, mired in red tape and sinking in corruption, the Judicial Corps were a far cry from the idealized pedestal Jadal had built them into.

Disappointment turned into determination and sadness was fashioned into righteous anger. Jadal Thrax soon became a vocal critic of the Judicials. Denouncing its many failings to anyone willing to listen. The Galaxy deserved better defenders and he would ensure it got them or die trying. This outspoken position got the young officer noticed. Corrupt officials, criminals and more importantly, like minded officers.

It didn’t take long for that attention to turn into action and a failed assassination attempt took Jadal’s remaining leg. His return to action was just in time to witness the Jedi invasion of Geonosis and the start of the Clone Wars. And just like that, it was as if the Galaxy had made his worst nightmares and direst warnings a reality.

The decrepit Judicials proved no match for the overwhelming Separatist forces in the early war. But still, Thrax fought on. Rising through the ranks of the newly created Grand Army of the Republic, Thrax quickly fell in with a crowd of like minded people. Both military and civilian personnel who recognized the inherent flaws of the Republic and the dire danger and weakness it posed to civilization. Rallying behind the awe inspiring figure of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, the Commission for the Protection of the Republic would ensure not only the destruction of the Separatist threat but that nothing like that ever happened again.

This association, and Thrax’ efforts to spread his increasingly authoritarian and human supremacist ideals among the rank and file, brought him into increasingly constant conflict with the Jedi assigned to the fleet.

Not that the then Commodore was ever fond of the mystics. The very thought of giving those insular monks high ranking command positions was downright insulting to Thrax. Sword skills and mind powers did not good commanders make. And for all the perverse, private vindication he felt watching the inexperienced Jedi stumble and fail and they learned the art of war on the go, Jadal still saw fit to blame them for every good man and woman lost to their blustering inexperience.

The Jedi slavish adherence to their own code of conduct did not help matters. But still, Thrax held his tongue and bid his time, taking out his frustrations on the acceptable targets and accruing ever greater physical and mental wounds.

By the time of the Battle of Coruscant, Rear Admiral Jadal Thrax was almost half machine and fully radicalized into the nascent ideology that would soon be known as the “New Order”. When Order 66 came and his Clone Soldiers suddenly turned their guns on the Jedi, Thrax watched in confusion and muted glee. Making sure to personally oversee the destruction of every dead body he could get his hands on.

And as Palpatine declared himself Emperor and the New Order was born from the ashes of the decadent and dying Republic, Jadal Thrax was in the vanguard of Imperial might. Taking part in the Outer Rim campaigns against the Separatist remnants, his stellar service and early association with COMPOR (now COMPNOR) ensured his career would be boosted to even greater heights.

With dedication unwavering and continued results, it was no surprise that two years before Yavin, Thrax was one of the select few raised to the rank of Grand Admiral by Emperor Palpatine.

Given command of a special task force and a simple order from Palpatine’s own lips: “Destroy my enemies.” Jadal Thrax wasted no time in setting out to do his liege’s bidding.

Pirates, Rebels, Corrupt officials, “traitors” and anyone who didn’t fit into Thrax’ standards of loyalty, those all became the Grand Admiral’s targets. With many more innocents caught in the crossfire. But like every other time in his life, Thrax did not relent or stop. Setbacks and defeats did not smother the fire of his fanaticism, wounds and assassination attempts did not cripple his drive. Spurred on and helped by COMPNOR’s propaganda, always glad to have “one of their own” in the limelight, Thrax became a symbol of dedication to the ideals of the New Order. Or maddened, bloody fanaticism, depending on who you ask.

The Grand Admiral wasted no time in molding his own command according to his image. Bloodline and patronage meant little within Fleet Group Thrax and the corruption and infighting that was so common was harshly put down. But more than that, Thrax demanded faith in the New Order. Ideological training became just as important as physical education and other basic skills. A strong soldier is worse than useless if he lacks the fanaticism to fight for the cause.

For these and other shows of loyalty, Thrax was made a high ranking member of COMPNOR’s Select Committee

When the Emperor died at Endor, the Grand Admiral was at first paralyzed by fear and grief. His flagship, the SSD Passion stood idle above the shipyards of Ciutric for weeks while the Empire collapsed all around him.

It was only when news of Il Raz’ apparent suicide and the arrival of an old friend from Coruscant, that Thrax was dragged out of his stupor. Shamed and guilty for his weakness and inaction, Grand Admiral Jadal Thrax wasted no more time with self pity. The time had come for the next grand battle of the age. The war between order and civilization against alien savage degeneracy. And so Thrax set out to work, rallying his fleet and calling upon his extensive contact network to build a new bulwark against the enemies of the New Order.

Thus the Committee for the Continuation of the New Order was born. Declared above Yaga Minor a couple months after Endor. In opposition to the Rebel Alliance and the multitude of Separatist and Warlord fiefdoms tearing the Galaxy apart.

In the five years since then, Thrax has expanded his reach through parts of the Northern Rim. Consolidating the “Zealot-State” separate from the wider Remnant. Fighting Rebel and Imperial alike with little distinction or pity.

The Grand Admiral still remembers Palpatine’s last order to him. And he watches and waits for more opportunities to do his duty.


Character Personality-: Despite the appearance of coldness given by his extensive cybernetics and superficial behavior, Jadal Thrax deep down is a passionate man. He is moved by a deep and unshakable love for the New Order and all that it represents. And that love drives him to ruthless atrocity after atrocity. Anything is justifiable for the good of the cause and its enemies deserve nothing less than complete destruction, or exploitation if they can be proven useful.

In the same vein, Thrax does genuinely appreciates and loves those he sees as his comrade in arms. If in a rather warped way, and that love will certainly not spare them if the Grand Admiral decides that their sacrifice will be worth it. But until then, he will strive to ensure that they will be properly treated and rewarded according to their faith and efforts.

If anything else, there's little else to occupy himself with when you are 80% machine. So one might as well give heart, mind and soul to a greater good.

On the outside, however, Thrax is a immobile wall of ice. As unfeeling and merciless as the droids he is often compared to. This wall of ice often breaks in the privacy among close friends. But for most of the Galaxy, and even most of his own subordinates, Jadal Thrax is an unpertupable pillar.

Less rosy, is the Grand Admiral’s paranoia. Years of being the target of successive assassination attempts and the usual conspiracies within the Imperial court have made him even more reserved, withdrawn and careful about personal security.

Character Class : Soldier

Items-:

Thrax' extensive cybernetic enhancements hide a few last ditch defenses. In case everything else fails, Thrax can start shooting away with a blaster built inside his right arm. But too much use will eat up too much energy too fast.

Quotations of Director Il Raz - A book of statements, writings and speeches by the late COMPNOR head and Grand Admiral Ishin Il Raz

The New Order Lives! - Thrax' own magnum opus, written with the help of his fellow C-CNO ideologues, the book details the Committee's own brand of fanatical New Order, its beliefs, goals and everything else one would need to know about their own brand of radicalism. Required reading everywhere from labor camps to schools.

Character's name: Inquisitor Aurelius

Race: Human

Faction Imperial Remnant

Character Background: (Note: My friend helped me clear some of this up in terms of canonization.)

She was born on Corelia in to an father who was an imperial officer and a mother who showed signs of Force Sensitivity, but gave herself to the service of Darth Vader as an Inquisitor herself. Growing up, she was taught imperial dogma and human supremacy over all xenon species. As well as by her mother in fierce training to embrace the dark side and to be prepared to lend herself to the service of the Emperor.

Her mother was harsh, but this was to make sure she would grow up ruthless and to better serve the Galactic Empire. Eventually however, her mother was called upon Lord Vader and was shipped off world where she would die at the hands of a rogue Jedi. Around the time of the Battle of Hoth Aurelius joined the Empire and would begin her actual training. Due to her youth in relative terms to the events of after the Battle of Hoth, Aurelius wouldn't see deployment until after the Battle of Endor where the Emperor and Lord Vader both perished.

Character Class (choose one): Imperial Inquisitor.

Items major weapons and the like does your character carry?: A single red lightsaber, imperial inquisitorial armor, a helmet to protect and conceal her face, basic credits to bribe or pursued those when need be. Maybe accompany a personal interrogator droid or may commandeer an small imperial ship.

Character Personality: Give a solid description on how your character acts, their morals, etc): Aurelius grew up in a strict and unforgiving childhood, as most servants of Emperor Palpatine would give their own child. Due to her closeness to her father, he ironically was the more inspiring one even as a staunch imperial navy official. Her own mother intentionally tried to make her daughter despise her, so one day she would learn to use her anger to further her own path to the darkside. In this regards, her mother was successful and Aurelius is cold and remorseless. Yet, she is not rash or hasty. Aurelius is like a hidden vibroknife. She acts when she must with swiftness and ferocity, yet only when such emotions are required. She is rather introverted, yet is capable of working with others. She also is outwardly xenophobic towards aliens, due to Imperial dogma.

Character Alignment (Choose one): Lawful Evil

A heavily modified Action VI-class transport, Freemaker's Bounty plays the innocent role of a cargo-transport, whilst actually being outfitted as a pirate ship. Originally belonging to the feared pirate gang known as The Grilk Brothers, it was commandeered after they picked a fight with the wrong scoundrel crew and destroyed their previous ship "Sleepy Rancor" It now serves the old crew of the Rancor, doing whatever job is necessary, everything from bounty-hunting in the outer rim to tug-boat work in the core systems.

Everything in here basically occurred in a Fate Core campaign.

Name: Devero Ruffalough

Alias: Gun Dog, Wild Riot Ranth, Wyrm Slayer

Race: Ranth

Faction: Mandalorian

Alignment: Neutral

Class: Bounty Hunter (Heavy Gunner)

Appearance:

To begin with, Devero is a Ranth, a hairy caninoid hailing from the planet of Caaraz. The world is one of a harsh climate, due to its unusual north-south rotation causing one side to bake volcanically while the other side is a shifting tectonic mess of a frozen tundra. Nearly all of his kind are described as tall, heavy-furred creatures with natural survival and hunting prowess, making them excellent trackers and combatants. They are strong against the elements, particularly cold, and Devero considers himself strong amongst his kind. Many are similar, and thus you will often see the muscular frame, the dark-haired body, the semi-flat muzzle, the dark eyes, the clawed hands and feet, the whipping tail... This goes on, and it is fair to say that Devero at least looks normal for his kind. However...there's more.

Devero has Mando Armor. It's not stolen either, as it was clearly outfitted FOR him. He wears Mandalorian heavy armor, which has yet to be completely Beskar, but it's still very tough. It is a black-and-orange armor designed to fit his size, including a Pre Vizsla-style helmet with side-mounted antennae that is built to accommodate his muzzle and head shape. Markings on Devero's armor show off the jaws of a great beast painted on the whole of the front chest plate area, with a mark of some kind of serpentine creature on his shoulder in yellow, as an indicator of the clan he belongs to. Weaponry will be described below, but we must draw attention to the heavy backpack mounted on the armor. It is a powerful combination jetpack/powerpack, with missle-launching capability. It speaks to Devero's violent nature...

Personality:

Devero is a modern Ranth, as opposed to a nomadic one. When the Galactic Empire discovered Caaraz and saw the potential use of his kind, he was among those to go into space. As a result, he is very non-traditional, though survival and battle instincts run strong. He is a wild thing, though, a creature of violent impulse, and not even out of anger, most times. He loves it, especially explosions! Yes, our boy here is kind of a violence junky and defintely a pyromaniac. He howls in triumph or when he's bored, he has a demented Scooby Doo laugh, and he was intimidating to people even BEFORE he got the armor!

Our crazy-go-nuts caninoid, however, DOES have a saner side to him. It's not to say that the wild side was all a bluff, but it DOES just so happen to be great cover for his attention to what's important, which is making sure he kills specifically those that are his kind's and his clan's enemies. (Yes, the creed does state that your own race of origin shall not have preferential treatment, but given who his enemies already were, it does not actually matter.) He is reluctant to break what little standards he has as a sentient being. Pushing him to a point, he IS open to a potential hire that could set his skills to tip the balance in a fight, but you also have NO idea what he's thinking, even without the helmet on.

Post-armoring, he's really loving this. Devero now considers himself one of the most dangerous individuals alive in the galaxy, and he rolls with it! He commits pretty much to the way, but he is still who he is, which is a Ranth who really loves his work.

Items:

Mandalorian Armor (Heavy Type) - A set of armor made for heavy infantry and built to accommodate the Ranth species. It is black-and-orange, with a smidgen of yellow, with the chest plate made of Beskar, while the helmet, arms, and legs were all formed of Matrix Armor, an armor used on ship hulls created to turn aside energy attacks. As stated above, the design on the chest depicts the jaws of a great beast, and the clan marker is that of some form of serpent.

Combination Jet/Powerpack Unit - The unit was broadly based upon a JT-12 Jetpack, which was capable of housing three small missles, but this was a heavily-modified version crossed with a heavy powerpack, making it closer to Paz Vizsla's unit, complete with heavy cord for connection to a heavy weapon. The missle launcher naturally responds to a built-in targeting computer with a HUD in the helmet.

Custom Z-6 Rotary Blaster Cannon - Read as 'blaster minigun'. This is a well-known weapon of very dangerous proportions, a rapid-repeating blaster weapon built for heavy suppression and destruction. Devero's in particular has an added feature, though. With a little parts realignment, the weapon becomes an anti-armor cannon with an ion discharge. This is what his powerpack connects to, and is thus usually stored on his back when not in use.

SoroSuub Firelance - A short blaster rifle he uses as a sidearm. It's as light as a carbine, and has a very good stun setting for capturing people, as well. It's hooked to Devero's side for an easy draw.

Grenades/Explosives - Devero is an expert demolitionist, and therefore makes alot of his own devices when he cannot find a supplier on his own. So, he may be found carrying frag, flash, cryoban, ion, adhesive, and other grenades along with proper demo equipment on his belt at any given time.

Compact Flame Units - Mounted on the underside of both arms of his armor at this wrists. They fire at a higher pressure than normal due to the integrating parts from a Firestorm Flame Projector that use to be attached to his Firelance.

High-Capacity Grapple Line - Left-arm mount for his armor. Due to his size, the standard grapple launcher is slow to reel him up to places, and that led to a nasty leg-biting one time, so he went and got an upgraded model.

Micro-Rocket Launcher - Integrated into the wrist of right gauntlet of his armor. This fires a single shot at a time of compact rocket-propelled explosive. It is meant for quick penetration and blowback.

Sith Light Saber - Found on Dxun and attached to the right arm of Devero's suit. He isn't trained in its use, and he is not a Force-Sensitive, but he's got a good swing of it. Its placement as a fixed device is so that he basically can't accidentally cut himself with it.

Background:

Born on Caaraz, Devero was among those taken and 'hired' by the Galactic Empire after their species was discovered and a general uplift program was put in place to train them to work for the Empire. Educated in the ways of the galaxy according to their view, it was only his own general cynicism and his fellow Ranth that kept him from being just an Imperial soldier. Ranth were considered second-class citizens in the Empire, employable but not desirable. They were overworked, underpaid, and Devero personally hated that he didn't get to blow things up enough. His violent pyromaniac tendancies tended to get him into trouble...or rather sometimes, the next Ranth over because of how difficult it was for Imperials to tell them apart. Nevertheless, he spent time working for the Empire while it was still intact, except he also kind of wasn't, because he was also a member of the Ranth underworld, a group known simply as 'The Pack'. Their goals were that, in not trusting the Empire, they would exploit the Empire by taking them for all they were worth under their noses. Supplies went missing, weapons were misappropriated, and even some of the accidents that supposedly destroyed articles were faked events. Not all of them, mind you, but some of them.

In time, though, he decided to leave Imperial employ altogether and became a gun for hire, and sometimes a bounty hunter...which actually landed him in enough hot water to be thrown into a crimelord's prison for a good number of months. It was here that he met a group that would end up getting up to all kinds of craziness and hijinx in the universe. Specifically, he met a Rodian bounty hunter, an Echani martial artist, and an ex-Imperial agent - the likes of which would help him get free and work to get revenge on the crimelord, except...things didn't go as planned. It all started when a Moff wanted them to kill an Echani diplomat on Coruscant, who was actually their guy's uncle. They still did it, buuut there was a bit of a problem...in the form of Inquisitors. You see, something that wasn't realized at the time was that...the Rodian and the Echani were Force-Sensitive, aaand so was the Echani's sister, who was one of the Inquisitors. Naturally, when the Dark Troopers waltz in with a pair of 'laser sword' users, it's time to leave and collect their pay. Problem is...the Moff was dead, killed and made to look like they did it in order to get him out of the way and make an excuse to put their little party on the most wanted list.

It was after ducking some trouble for a while that they got the attention of a Mandalorian. Between their known actions, their thrilling victories in an underground deathsport, and the knowledge of the Force-Sensitivity (which Devero did not share), the Mandos were intrigued and interested. So much so, in fact, that they were invited for training on the planet Dxun, a deadly jungle planet once inhabited by Sith and Imperials alike. The fauna of this planet were ruthless, and the traps left in Sith tombs deadly, but the four of them pulled through, as did another team. On the day of their pickup, they all decided to explore one last ruin...only for a huge creature to practically unearth the place as it attacked them! The creature was a product of ancient Sith alchemy, a converted Exogorth that was simply known as a War Wyrm. The Sith left them as guardians, and this one was more vicious than anything they'd encountered before, including the Zakkeg and the Hssiss!

Despite the creature's obvious savage power, the group prevaled. It helped that actual working Sith weapons had been found and used in battle, as well as the fact that Devero got the beast to swallow ALOT of explosives that subsequently blew up its neck. Devero took the jaws as a trophy and painted the pattern on his armor, while the likeness OF the Wyrm became their clan symbol. From here, it was all about earning their Beskar to turn those starting full-body armor suits into proper Mando Armor. Success was varied, and they got some, but the motherlode was sadly taken...by an Inquisitor who has used ancient alchemy to bond the Beskar to his SKIN, making him damn near invulnerable!

Well...unless you had ion weapons handy.

Supporting Characters:

Mandalorians - You know 'em, you love 'em, but cross 'em, and you die.

Clan Wyrm Slayer - Ghil Vayn (Echani Male), Kelmor Jath (Ex-Imperial Human Male), and Rissa Oze (Rodian Bounty Hunter) make up his fellow members aboard the ship, Halcyon Star. It is a small clan that they themselves started out.