nitemare shape

Star Wars: Legacies (Always Open)

Shortly after the Twilight Dreams touched down just outside of Mos Espa, Joren took his first steps off of the ship's boarding ramp and onto the sandy surface of Tatooine and was surprised by the scorching heat that greeted him. Although he had known that the desert planet was hot, he had not anticipated just how hot the planet truly was. As he led the others away from the ship, which they had landed on the outskirts of the city to avoid any attention being drawn to themselves, they decided to head into the spaceport to try and figure out exactly what it was that they were doing, and what their next move was.

Initially, Dono and Kelsa had been against coming to Tatooine. They both had argued that leaving one Hutt controlled world for another was not the best idea, and Joren could see their point. However, he had argued that it wasn't the Hutts that had chased them off of Nar Shaddaa, it was the Kath Hounds and the Empire, neither of which existed on Tatooine.

However, the truth was that Joren didn't know why he had suggested that they come to this planet. And even if he did, he didn't know that he could explain it to his friends. He wondered just how he could tell them that a voice had called out to him through the vastness of space and beckoned him to come. Though it hadn't been a voice that had called to him, had been more like a feeling. He knew that it sounded crazy and he couldn't explain it.

“So, where are we going?” Kelsa finally spoke up, breaking the silence.

“Mos Espa spaceport, it's what passes for a capitol city around these parts. Keep your heads down and try not to bring attention to yourselves-” Dono said without breaking stride. “-This place can be rough.”

“So, we should feel right at home.” Nyna said as they continued toward the spaceport, which appeared to shimmer before them in the heat.

Once inside the spaceport, they walked down the sandy streets passing numerous adobe style buildings and found themselves in an outdoor market place. They passed by the citizens of Mos Espa, many of whom had rough and weathered skin due to years of exposure to the desert elements and the twin suns, as well as numerous beings of various species who were mingling throughout the marketplace. Up ahead of them was a food stand which had a variety of what looked to be relatively freshly killed creatures strapped up on display, and while the critters didn't look all that appealing, the smell from the stand certainly was. The crew continued past the food stand a little ways and found themselves in front of a small eatery. The establishment, called Akim's Munch was a small diner with a number of tables inside, and several more outside around the side of the building. Used to watching his surroundings, Joren took note of the patrons that were sitting at the outside tables. There were several Weequay scattered among the tables as well as a few Bith. However, the one character that stood out was a lone Mon Calamari. The sight of the aquatic creature sitting alone at a diner on the desert planet struck Joren as ironic, if not outright odd. However, as strange as it was, Joren was just about to suggest they stop for a bite to eat when something else caught his attention.

Not far from the diner a group of Rodians had surrounded a young woman. Joren watched as the woman tried to get away from the reptile like aliens, only to be pushed back. There seemed to be a heated exchange by the young woman, who appeared to be about the same age as Joren and the others, and the Rodians, though Joren couldn't tell exactly what was being said.

“No, don't even think about it.” Nyna said as Joren began drifting toward the confrontation.

“We can't not do something.” Joren replied as he took another step towards the woman and her “friends.” Though Nyna knew that a public confrontation would draw attention to them, potentially even the attention of a Hutt who had connections to the crime lords of Nar Shaddaa, she also knew that Joren was right. Who knew what the Rodians wanted with the girl, and Nyna nor her friends were capable of standing by while they did whatever it was they had in mind for this girl.

“So much for keeping a low profile.” Nyna said as she followed Joren and Dono as they began walking towards the source of the confrontation. Joren and Nyna led the way as Dono and Kelsa followed close behind them.

“Hey, back off slagchucker!” Nyna exclaimed toward the Rodians as one of them shoved the slender young woman. The sudden outburst caused the Rodian thugs to turn their attention away from the young woman and to the intruders.

“Mind your business.” One of the Rodians said in broken basic as he stepped aggressively towards Nyna and Joren.

“Hey, no need for that friend. Take it easy.-” Joren said as he put his hands up toward the group of aliens with his palms facing forward. “-Now, let the girl go and we'll be on our way.”

“No, she has to pay for what she did. Now you leave or you pay too!” Another of the Rodians spoke up as Dono made his presence known, drawing a blaster.

“Sorry.-” Dono said as he came to a stop before the Rodians. “That's not going to happen.” He finished as he pointed his blaster at the Rodian who appeared to be in charge.

The Rodian reached for his blaster, however, before he could Dono fired to blast bolts into his chest. As the Rodian stumbled back and began to fall, one of the others rushed toward Nyna brandishing a durasteel club. He swung the club before anyone had a chance to react, hitting her in the head and knocking her to the ground.

“Nyna!” Joren shouted as he raised his blaster and opened fire on the Rodian with the club, hitting him several times in the upper arms and chest.

As the melee began, Kelsa ran toward the young woman who had been the target of the Rodians' ire and grabbed her and led her out of harm's way as Joren and Dono fought off the remaining Rodians. The fire fight was over before it really began. When the dust had settled, the six Rodians lay sprawled out in the street.

Joren holstered his weapon and made his way over to where Nyna lay. He bent down and slowly helped her up. Though her head was pounding and she was a little unsteady on her feet, she seemed to be alright. Joren was helping Nyna try to steady herself, the young woman who had been been the subject of the Rodians' ire approached.

“We should really get going.” The young woman said as she reached them.

“Probably a good idea. Who knows what we just stirred up.” Joren agreed.

“My place is just outside of town. It's just a short walk from here.” She told them.

“That's alright, our ship is on the outskirts of the city.” Dono said as Nyna stumbled a bit as Joren still held on to her, keeping her upright. The young woman watched as Nyna struggled on her feet and then shook her head at the Mandalorian.

“Those guys that you took out.-” She said motioning to the dead Rodians that littered the roadway. “-They're debt collectors for Sladoba the Hutt. He won't be happy when word gets out that you slaughtered his guys, and from the way that word travels around here, I'd say he's probably learning about this whole fiasco right about now. So, you can take your chances and head all the way back to your ship with someone who can barely walk straight, or you can come with me.”

Dono was about to raise an objection, however, Kelsa spoke up before he had the chance.

“She's right.” Kelsa said.

“Kelsa, we don't know her.” Dono said.

“And she.-” She said pointing emphatically at Nyna. “-can't walk straight. Let's go with...” She paused as she shifted her gaze to the young blonde woman.

“Breia.” she said.

“Breia to her place, get Nyna some time to rest, and we can get back to the Dreams tomorrow.”

“Not a bad idea.” Joren said as he turned to regard Breia. “I'm Joren, this is Nyna, Dono, and you've met Kelsa.” He said as he pointed to each of his friends.

“Nice to meet you all, now we should go.” Breia said as she led the others away from the scene of the shootout.

As they began walking toward the edge of town, Joren stopped short. There was something there with them on this world, something that felt dark, cold. It was something that Joren had never felt before, and if truth be told, he hoped to never feel again.

“You okay Vod'ika?” Dono called to him.

“Yeah...yeah, I'm coming.” Joren said as he rejoined his friends. However, he couldn't shake the feeling that something, or someone, was watching them.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Sit tight folks, we're just waiting for a few things and then we'll be moving on to season 3

Star Wars: Legacies (Always Open)

Posts coming probably tomorrow

Star Wars: Legacies (Always Open)

Darth Simula

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.

@role model

approved

Star Wars: Legacies (Always Open)

Sheet is possibly WIP. Malg is a very independent character, so I wasn't sure if I should give him any supporting characters to reflect his self-reliant nature. I already discussed with @FalloutJack that Malg and Singe would be connected, so maybe I can get away with listing her there? I'm not really sure.

@nitemare shape Lemme know what you think!

Malg

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 21-B 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 found holocrons and datapads, 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 Coydell'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 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 (Describe or post a picture of what your character looks like): 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 legs are that of 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.

@Genon

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Pit or Hell is fine with me. I personally am kind of fond of Pit, but do whatever works for you.

Star Wars: Legacies (Always Open)

great posts guys. I'll be getting some up soon myself

Star Wars: Legacies (Always Open)

H U C V O N D A R

P R I V A T E E R ~ C O R E L L I A N D A W N ~ N E W R E P U B L I C

---

Character Alignment: Chaotic Good

Character Background: Huc was born on Corellia in the year 15BBY, years after the formation of the Empire and their stranglehold over the galaxy. His parents were laborers in the Corellia Shipyards, and led a simple, yet safe, life under the eye of the Empire. Neither were fans of the totalitarian state, but held their opinions to themselves in order to protect their young son. Huc's earliest memories were his father sitting with him as they watched the ships come and go from the shipyards. Sal, his father, would explain the capabilities of each ship and Huc would dream of flying away on one. Like all Corellians, he had a wanderlust that the Empire would no longer allow, especially for someone of his class.

As he grew, his parents' treatment at the hands of the Empire as well as being stuck on a planet he was beginning to see as a prison began to form his hatred of the Empire. This was all crystallized when his mother died in a shipyard accident caused by the Empire overworking the shipyard employees. The loss devastated Huc and Sal, sending the latter into a state of full on radicalization. He began meeting with a group that called itself the Corellian Resistance. The group began as nothing more than a secret forum for people to vent their frustrations. Huc was allowed to attend the meetings, setting him down the path that would consume his destiny.

Everything changed after the Battle of Yavin. As news of the Death Star's destruction spread, the Resistance on Corellia became emboldened. Outright sabotage of Imperial efforts in the shipyards became the norm, and some radical members of the group began outright attacking Imperial installations.

Seeing that true insurrection was impossible without support from the upstart Rebel Alliance, Sal devised a drastic plan. He would steal a YT-2000 light freighter from the shipyards and use it as a blockade runner to supply the rebel band. Huc was adamant he join his father, arguing that he was now at an age where he could no longer be protected. So the father and son infiltrated the shipyards and stole the freighter from under the nose of the Empire, and made contact with a Rebel cell.

For the next few years the two of them were the critical supply link between the Rebellion and the Corellian Resistance. They ran blockades, smuggled contraband, and even performed prison breaks using the ship, which Sal named the Corellian Dawn.

Huc began training with the fighters of the Resistance, becoming an able commando in his own right. While not proficient in the skills, he could slice into simpler systems when needed. But his true calling was flying the Dawn, which his father taught him how to do. He was a natural, and could adeptly fill in for his father when needed.

The Resistance was successful in disrupting the shipyards, buying the Rebellion time and infuriating the local governor. This eventually led to a more sizable garrison on the planet, as well as the nefarious replacement of local workers with slave labor to ensure compliance. This made life for the Resistance harder, and the fighting became more desperate across Corellia.

Eventually, they were given word that the Rebellion was going to make a decisive strike on the Empire soon. To coincide with this, the Corellian Resistance planned to cripple the Imperial presence on the planet. Using a major guerrilla-style attack throughout Coronet City, the Resistance systematically wiped out Stormtroopers en mass while the ships they had assaulted the shipyards and freed the slaves held there.

It was during this mission that tragedy once again struck Huc's life. Sal was covering a group of slaves as they boarded the Dawn, and was shot down by a Stormtrooper. Unable to retrieve his father's body, Huc escaped with the liberated workers and was never able to bury his father properly. But the mission was a success, the Empire on Corellia was greatly weakened, and Huc knew that's all Sal would have cared about in the end. Now he and his wife were joined in the Force.

From this tragedy came opportunity. In the group of slaves he rescued were Yu'li Tavir, a Togrutan that was about his age, as well as the Herglic named Gor-Nada, who fancied himself Yu'li's surrogate father. Yu and Huc bonded quickly, as neither had many peers in their same age group inside the Resistance ranks. It turned out Yu'li was a crack shot with nearly any weapon handed to her, and she could man the guns of the Corellian Dawn like a pro. Her mischievous ways partnered with Huc's easygoing attitude led to the pair getting in more trouble than they should have in Resistance headquarters. It was usually Gor that had to reprimand them. He had become a mechanic for the Resistance, and was a whiz when it came to repairing the Dawn. The two became the permanent crew for the ship, and Huc was happy to have a family again.

When the fledgling New Republic decided to fully liberate Corellia, Huc, the Corellian Dawn, and her new crew took part in the Battle of Corellia, helping the New Republic fleet to drive the Empire out of the important ship yard. After the battle, they were offered official commission to join the Fleet, but Huc had other ideas. He had waited too long to explore the galaxy, and thought that being tied to orders from the New Republic Navy would hinder those opportunities. Instead, he proposed that the Dawn and her crew would be privateers in the service of the New Republic. They would raid Remnant shipping lines and merchant vessels, taking some of the profits while delivering the rest to the nearest Republic base. The proposal was accepted, and the Dawn set out across the galaxy to do just that.

Along their travels, Huc "acquired" an AC series pilot droid to act as his co-pilot aboard the Dawn, and Yu purchased a domesticated Loth-cat known as Fuzzball as a pet.

The crew is currently in the Outer Rim, on the planet Batuu, hunting rumors of Imperial expeditions into the Unknown regions...

Character Personality: Huc is driven by his desire to see the Empire wiped out for their crimes against the galaxy. He believes fully in the promise of the New Republic, and has hope the new Jedi Order can keep the peace in the galaxy. He is dedicated to helping those that need it, some times to the point of folly or endangering his mission. This can lead to friction with his crewmates, who are more focused on profit and moving onto the next job, but his easygoing and fun-loving attitude often leads to quick forgiveness. He is a smooth talked, and even though he bares scars from his freedom fighter days, he uses his handsomeness to his advantage. His swashbuckling demeanor is used to paint over the deep seeded pain he still carries from losing his family, however, something only Yu'li truly knows about him.

He's never happier than when he is behind the helm of his ship, the Corellian Dawn. Flying is the thing he truly is best at, and he never passes up an opportunity to show off. His co-pilot, the reprogrammed Star Tour pilot droid AC-DK known as "Duck", often reprimands his flying style.

During missions, Huc never kills those that don't deserve it. Only military targets such as Stormtroopers, TIE pilots, or Imperial Remnant Officers are liable to be killed. This can sometimes lead to trouble, as raided merchants often send the authorities after the Dawn, and sometimes Huc's crew believe he enjoys being chased.

Huc loathes the leftover racism that still lingers after the Empire's rule, and is fiercely protective of Yu'li and Gor, even though they don't need him to be.

Character's Physical description: Seen above. About 5'10", and 200lbs

Character Class: Force-Sensitive Scoundrel (Privateer)

Items:

Corellian Dawn

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.

Weapons

• A pair of Clone Wars era DC-17 blaster pistols
• A small vibroknife he kept on his belt in case of close quarters combat
• He kept blast charges and thermal detonators on the Corellian Dawn in case they wanted to blow up a pirated ship from the inside.

Gear

• Slicing tools
• Thief tools

Supporting Characters:

Yu'li Tavir

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.

Gor-Nada

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

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.

Fuzzball

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

@HenryJonesJr

Approved. Glad to have you aboard

Star Wars: Legacies (Always Open)

We still accepting here, Shape? Might have to join up....

@HenryJonesJr

Yup. It'd be awesome to have you

Star Wars: Legacies (Always Open)

Dram Cruvee watched the small vessel break free of Nar Shadaa's atmosphere. As it moved farther from the moon, it appeared to the Imperial captain that the vessel was actively avoiding engaging with the much larger Imperial Star Destroyer.

“What is that ship and where is it going?” Cruvee asked a deck officer.

“According to the transponder, it's a Starwind class pleasure yacht, the Twilight Dreams. It matches the description of the vessel that just blasted its way out of the Corellian Sector. I was just about to make contact, Sir.” the deck officer, a young man named Pistore, replied.

The Jedi. Cruvee thought to himself before he began barking orders.

“Do not allow that vessel to escape. I want that vessel brought aboard immediately. Have a boarding party ready, and set your weapons to stun. I don't want the occupants harmed. Is that clear?” Cruvee demanded.

“Yes Sir.” Pistore said as he began pressing a series of buttons, preparing the tractor beam.

***

Aboard the Twilight Dreams

There was a rush of excitement as the ship left the Smuggler's Moon behind. However, excitement soon turned to dread as the sight of the massive Star Destroyer loomed large in front of them. Nyna and Dono, from the co-pilot seats in the cockpit did their best to stay as far away from the ship as possible.

“Nyna...” Joren called out in concern as he watched the Star Destroyer approach their ship.

“Where are we going?” Nyna asked in a panic, her eyes as round as saucers as she too, watched the Star Destroyer draw nearer.

“Away from here!” Kelsa cried out as she kept her eyes on the Imperial ship.

“Starwind vessel Twilight Dreams, this is the Imperial Star Destroyer Waylander. You are in violation of Imperial Space, prepare to be boarded. Acknowledge.” A voice came from the communications system.

Joren watched out the view port as a squadron of TIE fighters left the Waylander, and moving together as if they were a swarm of like minded insects, they converged on the Twilight Dreams. A flash of green laser fire washed over the front view port as one of the TIE fighters fired a warning shot.

“Nyna...!-” Joren called to his friend again. “-Get us out of here!”

“To where?!” Nyna asked, frustrated. She had limited experience in flying a star ship, but she knew that a random jump to hyperspace was risky.

“Anywhere but here!” Joren exclaimed.

“Fine.” Nyna said as she began entering coordinates into the navicomputer.

“No time.” Dono said as he reached over and activated the hyperdrive. Instantly, the stars began to stretch into streaks of light as the Twilight Dreams made the jump to hyperspace.

***

Dram Cruvee watched as the smaller vessel blinked out of view as it entered hyperspace before the Waylander had been able to activate the tractor beam. He suddenly felt hot as rage boiled beneath the surface. The captain was furious. While the loss of the “Jedi” fueled his anger, it was also the perceived incompetence of his crew. Cruvee wanted to take the officer's datapad and throw it across the bridge, he knew that such a display would do him no good, and would make him appear weak in front of his crew. Instead he stood, staring out of the view port where the ship had been just moments before, and took a deep breath.

“Contact the platoon leader on the moon. Tell them to bring Amaral Kenso to me. I think it's time that we had a chat.” Cruvee said before turning away from the view port and taking his leave of the bridge.

“Yes sir.” Pistore said, relief taking hold as his commanding officer left him to his own devices.

***

“Where are we?” Joren asked as he looked out the view port at the blue-black void of space which surrounded them. They had dropped out of hyperspace, figuring that they were far enough away from Nar Shaddaa that the Imperials that had been pursuing them wouldn't be a problem, at least for the time being.

“Somewhere in the Mid Rim, I think.-” Dono said as he checked the computer. “-The Arkanis Sector shouldn't be too far.”

“The Arkanis Sector?-” Nyna asked. “That means we're close to the Pii System. We could always go there until we figure out what we're doing.”

“What's in the Pii System?” Kelsa asked.

“Greel wood, and that's about it.” Dono told her.

“Listen, I have family on Naboo. We can go there to lay low for a bit.” Nyna offered.

“No, not Naboo. If the Imperials made us, it won't be safe. They'll track us to Naboo, and that won't end well for any of us. Besides, the place is crawling with Gungans.”

Joren listened as Dono and Nyna discussed their next move. But soon, his attention turned to Kelsa, who was sitting, slumped over a table in the galley area. She was in pain, and he didn't need the Force to recognize that. She had suffered a major loss today, the loss of the woman who had raised her, as well as the loss of her father. Their escape from the Imperials hadn't given her the time she needed to process what had happened, but now that they had gotten away from their pursuers and there had been time enough for the events of the day to begin to sink in, the reality of the situation had finally hit her.

He had wanted nothing more than to comfort her. To tell her that he knew what it was like to lose your family, he wanted to tell her that everything would be alright, even if he didn't know that to be the truth. She needed to hear it. She needed her friends. However, as he began the trek across the lounge to where she was seated, he stopped suddenly.

He felt something that he hadn't felt since he was a child. Something he hadn't felt since...his father. It was as if something, or perhaps someone was reaching out to him. Calling him to...

“Tatooine.” Joren said finally.

“Did you say something, Vod'ika?” Dono asked, almost as if he had forgotten that Joren had been there the entire time.

“Tatooine. We're going to Tatooine.” Joren told them.

Dono and Nyna exchanged puzzled looks, but neither raised any objections. Tatooine wasn't a bad choice, as far as Dono knew, there was currently no Imperial presence on the desert planet, and even if there were, they weren't looking for them there. After several beats, Dono nodded in agreement and entered the coordinates into the navicomputer, and the stars again stretched into lines as the Twilight Dreams made the jump to hyperspace.