To this station, a handful of individuals have found their way. Some among the refugee convoys from the Rim, others mercenaries or traders, or even crew of the station. Whatever brings them to the station, they will soon find that a great destiny awaits them, for better or worse. For within these individuals rest an untapped strength - the power of the Force.
A sense of unease has fallen over them, a sense of dread. Something dark is coming.
A thousand years ago, a small group of heroes fought, bled, and died opposing the tyrannical Empire that had replaced the democratic Republic that had preceded it, and they suceeded, returning the galaxy to peace and democracy. But all good things come to an end. In this New Republic's infancy, it faced a seemingly endless number of threats, from resurgent Imperials and pirate raiders to the depredations of the Yevetha and Ssi-Ruuk. Less than thirty years after the downfall of the Empire, a race known as the Yuuzhan Vong, equipped with strange biotechnology and a dogmatic, xenocidal dogma invaded the galaxy and left a swath of destruction in its wake.
That would not be the end of the new Republic's struggles. Invasion, rebellion, and civil war would plague the Republic for centuries. The constant fighting and destruction crippled the Republic's infrastructure, and slowly but surely the Republic's economy began its collapse. As the Republic's military began to be mothballed, the outer edges of the Republic became more and more autonomous, eventually becoming completely separate.
The Republic's downfall would, in the end, not be in a terrible apocalyptic war like the Clone Wars or the Yuuzhan Vong invasion, but in a slow death that took centuries. On city-worlds like Coruscant, prices on even basic necessities like food became too much to bear for many.
As the Republic died, so too did the Jedi Order. Within one hundred and fifty years, the Jedi ere nearly exterminated twice - first by the Empire, and then again by the Sith. While the Order endured and fought for long centuries against their ancient enemy, they would never wield the stabilizing influence they had once had in the Old Republic, until finally with the collapse of the Republic the Jedi Order ceased to exist. While individual Jedi endured, they were a dying breed, without the resources to properly train new apprentices, they were doomed to a slow extinction.
Ultimately, the Republic's collapse could not be averted. The wounds left by the Empire could have healed if they had been given some time of relative peace, but instead the wounds were only torn deeper by relentless powermongering. Approximately nine hundred years after the downfall of the Empire, the Republic finished its long, slow death. In its place rose nothing save hundreds of system and sector-states, each jockeying for power.
The Republic would meet its ultimate end as the prize in a war between the Core Powers - Duro, Corellia, and Kuat. In the battles that raged in its orbit, the world was desolated, the atmosphere choked with ash and dust clouds and much of the structures laid to waste. So died the Republic.
It has been a hundred years since then. A few powers have risen in the galaxy, but new states rise and fall on a daily basis. Now a terrible plague sweeps the galaxy leaving millions dead in its wake, and whispers speak of sinister powers rising in outer rim systems. War has become a fact of life for many people, and the bright light at the end of the tunnel is little more than laser fire.
The Galaxy needs heroes. More than that, it needs the Jedi. And they're nowhere to be found.
That would not be the end of the new Republic's struggles. Invasion, rebellion, and civil war would plague the Republic for centuries. The constant fighting and destruction crippled the Republic's infrastructure, and slowly but surely the Republic's economy began its collapse. As the Republic's military began to be mothballed, the outer edges of the Republic became more and more autonomous, eventually becoming completely separate.
The Republic's downfall would, in the end, not be in a terrible apocalyptic war like the Clone Wars or the Yuuzhan Vong invasion, but in a slow death that took centuries. On city-worlds like Coruscant, prices on even basic necessities like food became too much to bear for many.
As the Republic died, so too did the Jedi Order. Within one hundred and fifty years, the Jedi ere nearly exterminated twice - first by the Empire, and then again by the Sith. While the Order endured and fought for long centuries against their ancient enemy, they would never wield the stabilizing influence they had once had in the Old Republic, until finally with the collapse of the Republic the Jedi Order ceased to exist. While individual Jedi endured, they were a dying breed, without the resources to properly train new apprentices, they were doomed to a slow extinction.
Ultimately, the Republic's collapse could not be averted. The wounds left by the Empire could have healed if they had been given some time of relative peace, but instead the wounds were only torn deeper by relentless powermongering. Approximately nine hundred years after the downfall of the Empire, the Republic finished its long, slow death. In its place rose nothing save hundreds of system and sector-states, each jockeying for power.
The Republic would meet its ultimate end as the prize in a war between the Core Powers - Duro, Corellia, and Kuat. In the battles that raged in its orbit, the world was desolated, the atmosphere choked with ash and dust clouds and much of the structures laid to waste. So died the Republic.
It has been a hundred years since then. A few powers have risen in the galaxy, but new states rise and fall on a daily basis. Now a terrible plague sweeps the galaxy leaving millions dead in its wake, and whispers speak of sinister powers rising in outer rim systems. War has become a fact of life for many people, and the bright light at the end of the tunnel is little more than laser fire.
The Galaxy needs heroes. More than that, it needs the Jedi. And they're nowhere to be found.
At this point, most of the galaxy is still ruled by small sector states, but several larger states have emerged. They are, as follows.
The People's United Republic of Kuat: The People's United Republic of Kuat (Often known as Kuat or The PURK) is a totalitarian, imperialist police state, currently the dominant power in the Core and the known Galaxy. It fields a larger fleet than any other known power. Recently, Kuat has opened its borders to refugees, and a torrent have begun pouring in, many stopping at Graveyard Station.
Confederation of Duro: The Confederation of Duro has become caught up in a war against the nearby Republic of Fondor, originally fighting over a small metal-rich world in contested space, it has blossomed into a full-scale galactic conflict that is sapping the strength of both powers. The internal politics are quite complex, the Confederation actually being a number of states joined together by common purpose. As the war rages on, rumors speak of growing plans for secession among several states.
Corellian League: The Corellian League would prefer to be left alone, maintaining an isolationist posture even more extreme in some ways than the Chiss. Almost no one is allowed to enter without the express permission of the Diktat, and departure from Corellian space is highly discouraged. Despite this, a considerable amount of smuggled goods come in and out of the planet.
Dac Alliance: The Dac Alliance is arguably the closest thing still remaining to the Republic of old. Devoting a significant percentage of its efforts to humanitarian efforts, the Dac Alliance maintains a policy of non-interference and open arms, allowing anyone into the Alliance that wishes to enter. They keep their opponents off by the strength of their mighty fleets, the titanic Mon Calamari Star Cruisers.
Thyferran Cartel: Thyferra is one of the smallest of the major powers, but they maintain their strength by having control of both Manaan and Thyferra, and thus having near-absolute control of bacta and kolto production. As a result, they are effectively unassailable, any attack on them resulting in an immediate stop of the flow of medicine.
The Chiss Ascendancy: The Chiss Ascendancy well predates the downfall of the Republic, and remain today much as they were a thousand years ago - isolationist, proud, and strong, with advanced, esoteric technologies. They have taken little notice or advantage of the current chaos, preferring to maintain their old stance.
Hutt Space: The Hutts operate more or less as they always have, only now they have little concern for Republic customs cruisers. They maintain their old borders, encompassing a considerable chunk of space, and have a potent battle fleet, but mostly just continue their practice of spice trading and criminal infiltration.
Republic of Fondor: The Republic of Fondor is nominally a democratic state, but has grown closer towards a military state as the war with Duro stretches on. The quality of life for its people has drastically fallen as more and more resources are focused on the construction of new warships to 'protect Fondor's interests.' A revolution seems to be on the horizon.
The People's United Republic of Kuat: The People's United Republic of Kuat (Often known as Kuat or The PURK) is a totalitarian, imperialist police state, currently the dominant power in the Core and the known Galaxy. It fields a larger fleet than any other known power. Recently, Kuat has opened its borders to refugees, and a torrent have begun pouring in, many stopping at Graveyard Station.
Confederation of Duro: The Confederation of Duro has become caught up in a war against the nearby Republic of Fondor, originally fighting over a small metal-rich world in contested space, it has blossomed into a full-scale galactic conflict that is sapping the strength of both powers. The internal politics are quite complex, the Confederation actually being a number of states joined together by common purpose. As the war rages on, rumors speak of growing plans for secession among several states.
Corellian League: The Corellian League would prefer to be left alone, maintaining an isolationist posture even more extreme in some ways than the Chiss. Almost no one is allowed to enter without the express permission of the Diktat, and departure from Corellian space is highly discouraged. Despite this, a considerable amount of smuggled goods come in and out of the planet.
Dac Alliance: The Dac Alliance is arguably the closest thing still remaining to the Republic of old. Devoting a significant percentage of its efforts to humanitarian efforts, the Dac Alliance maintains a policy of non-interference and open arms, allowing anyone into the Alliance that wishes to enter. They keep their opponents off by the strength of their mighty fleets, the titanic Mon Calamari Star Cruisers.
Thyferran Cartel: Thyferra is one of the smallest of the major powers, but they maintain their strength by having control of both Manaan and Thyferra, and thus having near-absolute control of bacta and kolto production. As a result, they are effectively unassailable, any attack on them resulting in an immediate stop of the flow of medicine.
The Chiss Ascendancy: The Chiss Ascendancy well predates the downfall of the Republic, and remain today much as they were a thousand years ago - isolationist, proud, and strong, with advanced, esoteric technologies. They have taken little notice or advantage of the current chaos, preferring to maintain their old stance.
Hutt Space: The Hutts operate more or less as they always have, only now they have little concern for Republic customs cruisers. They maintain their old borders, encompassing a considerable chunk of space, and have a potent battle fleet, but mostly just continue their practice of spice trading and criminal infiltration.
Republic of Fondor: The Republic of Fondor is nominally a democratic state, but has grown closer towards a military state as the war with Duro stretches on. The quality of life for its people has drastically fallen as more and more resources are focused on the construction of new warships to 'protect Fondor's interests.' A revolution seems to be on the horizon.
1: Don't be an idiot. I mean, it's not going to be a concern if you are, you just won't be accepted into the RP. But please, don't be an idiot.
2: I'd like to have some insight into your character's minds while they work. Some of you already put your characters thoughts into the post, italicized. I'd like it if all of you would do this.
3: The Dark Side is going to be a serious factor in this RP. It's not a toy. If I tell you that your character's behavior indicates that he's being seduced by the Dark Side, do not ignore me, and do -not- argue with me.
4: In general, don't ignore me or argue with me.
2: I'd like to have some insight into your character's minds while they work. Some of you already put your characters thoughts into the post, italicized. I'd like it if all of you would do this.
3: The Dark Side is going to be a serious factor in this RP. It's not a toy. If I tell you that your character's behavior indicates that he's being seduced by the Dark Side, do not ignore me, and do -not- argue with me.
4: In general, don't ignore me or argue with me.
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Species: (No extremely esoteric races like Yuuzhan Vong or Neti)
Homeworld:
Profession: (Or what brings your character to Graveyard Station. Refugee, Mercenary, Crewer. No Jedi.)
Skills: (No Force Abilities)
Possessions: (No Lightsabers.)
Appearance: (I don't care if you describe, or have a picture, or both.)
Personality:
Personal History:
Age:
Gender:
Species: (No extremely esoteric races like Yuuzhan Vong or Neti)
Homeworld:
Profession: (Or what brings your character to Graveyard Station. Refugee, Mercenary, Crewer. No Jedi.)
Skills: (No Force Abilities)
Possessions: (No Lightsabers.)
Appearance: (I don't care if you describe, or have a picture, or both.)
Personality:
Personal History:
Name: Valeric Aq'la
Age: 62
Gender: Male
Species: Caamasi
Homeworld: Obroa-Skai
Profession: Refugee, formerly a Professor at the Obroan Institute for Archaeology.
Skills: Valeric is extremely learned about history in general and the Jedi in particular, having lead an archaeological expedition to the ancient Jedi strongholds on Tython and Ossus, and is considered a foremost expert on the Jedi, their downfall, their philosophy, and their abilities.
While no weakling, Valeric is no killer. He has a gentle heart and a kind nature, and has little training in self defense. However, he is physically fit and is welltrained in survival techniques.
Possessions: Valeric has very little to his name beyond the clothes on his back, a simple green robe and a bag with a datapad and several dozen datacards in it, containing Valeric's records from his journeys.
Appearance:
Personality: He is calm, composed, and pleasant. He rarely becomes overly emotional, but at the same time is friendly and kind, always ready to lend a helping hand. He craves knowledge for it's own sake.
Personal History: For the most part, Valeric's history is dull. He was born, he was raised, he went to a prestigious college and studied archaeology. He's gone on several well-known expeditions, most notably to Tython and Ossus and studied the Jedi Temples there. He was offworld when Obroa-Skai was attacked by the Duro Confederation, and found himself cut off with no resources. At the next opportunity, he hitched onto a refugee convoy and remained on it for some time until he reached what he seemed to sense was his destination - the titanic Graveyard Station. Here, he felt he would find his destiny.
Age: 62
Gender: Male
Species: Caamasi
Homeworld: Obroa-Skai
Profession: Refugee, formerly a Professor at the Obroan Institute for Archaeology.
Skills: Valeric is extremely learned about history in general and the Jedi in particular, having lead an archaeological expedition to the ancient Jedi strongholds on Tython and Ossus, and is considered a foremost expert on the Jedi, their downfall, their philosophy, and their abilities.
While no weakling, Valeric is no killer. He has a gentle heart and a kind nature, and has little training in self defense. However, he is physically fit and is welltrained in survival techniques.
Possessions: Valeric has very little to his name beyond the clothes on his back, a simple green robe and a bag with a datapad and several dozen datacards in it, containing Valeric's records from his journeys.
Appearance:
Personality: He is calm, composed, and pleasant. He rarely becomes overly emotional, but at the same time is friendly and kind, always ready to lend a helping hand. He craves knowledge for it's own sake.
Personal History: For the most part, Valeric's history is dull. He was born, he was raised, he went to a prestigious college and studied archaeology. He's gone on several well-known expeditions, most notably to Tython and Ossus and studied the Jedi Temples there. He was offworld when Obroa-Skai was attacked by the Duro Confederation, and found himself cut off with no resources. At the next opportunity, he hitched onto a refugee convoy and remained on it for some time until he reached what he seemed to sense was his destination - the titanic Graveyard Station. Here, he felt he would find his destiny.
Name: Prenlarr Lebeleb
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Species: Nimbanel
Profession: Crew (Specification: Engineering and repairs)
Skills: Engineering, information gathering, problem solving, and hacking or bypassing systems.
Appearance: His skin is pale pink to the point of almost having the skin tone of a human, with eyes which are the standard black and brown hair on either side. The top of his head is entirely bald and the hair on the sides come out resembling something closer to whiskers than actual facial hair.
He is relatively lean for a member of his species, though he by no means looks like he is starving (aka skinny but no ribs showing). Prenlarr is of the lower average height for a member of his species, standing at about 1.7 meters tall or 5.58 feet.
Personality: He is a dedicated engineer and loyal member of whatever group he is placed in. By nature of his species he is extremely inquisitive about others but secretive when it comes to himself. Prenlarr has his species' natural aptitude at solving logic based puzzles which makes him quite handy for hacking a code to a door or computer as well as bypassing the systems of a droid or repairing a ship.
Personal History: He grew up on his home planet of Nimban, living in the bureaucracy that ruled the clans for 19 years. It was during this time he had the values of his people instilled in him, he had been a part of teams that would have to solve the puzzles and equations used to determine how clan disputes would end, and like all on his planet, he had many a number of victories and losses.
As he grew up he looked for challenges that could always prove to be new, and he found this in engineering. It had started as mathematics, and eventually he was repairing droids as a way to help out his clan. Though he found that even if he changed the welding arm of an astromech it may still continue to malfunction. In figuring out why at a young age he became involved in the coding of these same droids and computers. He was soon an able hacker and repairman, gathering information for his clan while finding new ways to protect their own with the help of others.
At 19 it was time for Prenlarr to either become a bureaucrat or find somewhere else to work. He took a job with a caravan ship as a way to pay his fare off planet and asked to be let off at their destination. The destination was Graveyard Station, after a quick demonstration of his technical skills to the lead engineer, and some persuasion using information gathered from said demonstration, he was given a job. He has since worked past the initial distrust by his bosses for that incident and has been doing whatever repairs or programming that has been asked of him ever since. He occasionally takes an outside job if it seems particularly challenging to keep his skills sharp, but maintaining a space station with limited supplies is usually enough to keep him occupied most days. He is content with his current situation and it would take a lot to get him to leave his current position with the crew of the Graveyard as they call it.
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Species: Nimbanel
Profession: Crew (Specification: Engineering and repairs)
Skills: Engineering, information gathering, problem solving, and hacking or bypassing systems.
Appearance: His skin is pale pink to the point of almost having the skin tone of a human, with eyes which are the standard black and brown hair on either side. The top of his head is entirely bald and the hair on the sides come out resembling something closer to whiskers than actual facial hair.
He is relatively lean for a member of his species, though he by no means looks like he is starving (aka skinny but no ribs showing). Prenlarr is of the lower average height for a member of his species, standing at about 1.7 meters tall or 5.58 feet.
Personality: He is a dedicated engineer and loyal member of whatever group he is placed in. By nature of his species he is extremely inquisitive about others but secretive when it comes to himself. Prenlarr has his species' natural aptitude at solving logic based puzzles which makes him quite handy for hacking a code to a door or computer as well as bypassing the systems of a droid or repairing a ship.
Personal History: He grew up on his home planet of Nimban, living in the bureaucracy that ruled the clans for 19 years. It was during this time he had the values of his people instilled in him, he had been a part of teams that would have to solve the puzzles and equations used to determine how clan disputes would end, and like all on his planet, he had many a number of victories and losses.
As he grew up he looked for challenges that could always prove to be new, and he found this in engineering. It had started as mathematics, and eventually he was repairing droids as a way to help out his clan. Though he found that even if he changed the welding arm of an astromech it may still continue to malfunction. In figuring out why at a young age he became involved in the coding of these same droids and computers. He was soon an able hacker and repairman, gathering information for his clan while finding new ways to protect their own with the help of others.
At 19 it was time for Prenlarr to either become a bureaucrat or find somewhere else to work. He took a job with a caravan ship as a way to pay his fare off planet and asked to be let off at their destination. The destination was Graveyard Station, after a quick demonstration of his technical skills to the lead engineer, and some persuasion using information gathered from said demonstration, he was given a job. He has since worked past the initial distrust by his bosses for that incident and has been doing whatever repairs or programming that has been asked of him ever since. He occasionally takes an outside job if it seems particularly challenging to keep his skills sharp, but maintaining a space station with limited supplies is usually enough to keep him occupied most days. He is content with his current situation and it would take a lot to get him to leave his current position with the crew of the Graveyard as they call it.
Name: Marcus Krang (Nickname Marcus)
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Species: Nautolan
Homeworld: Glee Anselm
Profession: Salvager/Survivalist
Skills: Basic Engineering, Small/moderate Arms proficiency, Melee weapons proficiency,
Piloting, Survival
Possessions: Armed with a modified heavy blaster pistol so as to reduce the so called 'problems' of using a heavier type of pistol, is also armed with a small vibrosword which ended up as payment from one of his many salvage jobs throughout the sector. Also a recent collection of lightsaber parts, as well as an arm mounted comm unit which he tends to do most of his business propositions from, as well as access his credit accounts.
Appearance: With a simple green skin and dark eyes signature of his race, with his hair tendrils at a moderate length. Marcus is often found wearing Fiber Armor which is black, due to the simplicity and flexibility of it. Marcus himself is well built largely because the work of his profession demanding that he keep in good physical condition, and that he keep himself alert. He is as buff as his species body will allow, and isable to stand strong against his human counterparts. He also tends to wear robes to cover up the short vibroblade prize, as well has a heavy blaster pistol which to defend himself.
Personality: Marcus can best be described as a oppertunist. He has been long on the search for something worth his time to either make his next fortune, or perhaps just finding a way back home. Marcus himself knows he has enough skills to keep alive, but he just wishes that there was something more to the galaxy than simply surviving in these messy times.
Personal History: Marcus Krang, like all Nautolans, spent a majority of his time on Glee Anselm. While there, he learned all the necessities of survival and culture on his home planet. However, the life was ultimately found to just not be as good as Marcus thought it would be, especially as he listened and heard the galaxy outside the planet falling apart. Taking to the skies, Marcus took to learning how to make a living off the chaos of the galaxy, the many abandoned ships, planets, and space bases.
After 4 years of travelling the galaxy making a living, Marcus had learned many secrets of keeping alive, chief among those being able to use his blaster pistol extremely well, and also found that the short vibroblade was extremely effective against many smaller creatures, and the time to time surprised pirate or raider.
Marcus's most recent expedition got him a particular set of parts which he decided to take on his personal self after the salvage job. On this particular salvage job Marcus came across what he was quite certain to be the parts for lightsaber construction. With fewer and possibly no Jedi nor Sith roaming the universe, Marcus figured that he had come upon an extremely rare find. However, with the reputation which both groups held in the galaxy many times over, Marcus is not sure what he should even attempt to do with his treasured find.
After hitching a ride, Marcus went to Graveyard Station, hearing that perhaps the station is likely one of the few places where one could perhaps get a small breather from all the hell going on outside in the universe. Providing what help he finds that the station can afford, Marcus is looking for his next job. Though credits are not really an issue, he is more or less looking for something to keep him busy in the quiet graveyards of battles already past, rather than look at the ones that are still unfolding around the universe.
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Species: Nautolan
Homeworld: Glee Anselm
Profession: Salvager/Survivalist
Skills: Basic Engineering, Small/moderate Arms proficiency, Melee weapons proficiency,
Piloting, Survival
Possessions: Armed with a modified heavy blaster pistol so as to reduce the so called 'problems' of using a heavier type of pistol, is also armed with a small vibrosword which ended up as payment from one of his many salvage jobs throughout the sector. Also a recent collection of lightsaber parts, as well as an arm mounted comm unit which he tends to do most of his business propositions from, as well as access his credit accounts.
Appearance: With a simple green skin and dark eyes signature of his race, with his hair tendrils at a moderate length. Marcus is often found wearing Fiber Armor which is black, due to the simplicity and flexibility of it. Marcus himself is well built largely because the work of his profession demanding that he keep in good physical condition, and that he keep himself alert. He is as buff as his species body will allow, and isable to stand strong against his human counterparts. He also tends to wear robes to cover up the short vibroblade prize, as well has a heavy blaster pistol which to defend himself.
Personality: Marcus can best be described as a oppertunist. He has been long on the search for something worth his time to either make his next fortune, or perhaps just finding a way back home. Marcus himself knows he has enough skills to keep alive, but he just wishes that there was something more to the galaxy than simply surviving in these messy times.
Personal History: Marcus Krang, like all Nautolans, spent a majority of his time on Glee Anselm. While there, he learned all the necessities of survival and culture on his home planet. However, the life was ultimately found to just not be as good as Marcus thought it would be, especially as he listened and heard the galaxy outside the planet falling apart. Taking to the skies, Marcus took to learning how to make a living off the chaos of the galaxy, the many abandoned ships, planets, and space bases.
After 4 years of travelling the galaxy making a living, Marcus had learned many secrets of keeping alive, chief among those being able to use his blaster pistol extremely well, and also found that the short vibroblade was extremely effective against many smaller creatures, and the time to time surprised pirate or raider.
Marcus's most recent expedition got him a particular set of parts which he decided to take on his personal self after the salvage job. On this particular salvage job Marcus came across what he was quite certain to be the parts for lightsaber construction. With fewer and possibly no Jedi nor Sith roaming the universe, Marcus figured that he had come upon an extremely rare find. However, with the reputation which both groups held in the galaxy many times over, Marcus is not sure what he should even attempt to do with his treasured find.
After hitching a ride, Marcus went to Graveyard Station, hearing that perhaps the station is likely one of the few places where one could perhaps get a small breather from all the hell going on outside in the universe. Providing what help he finds that the station can afford, Marcus is looking for his next job. Though credits are not really an issue, he is more or less looking for something to keep him busy in the quiet graveyards of battles already past, rather than look at the ones that are still unfolding around the universe.
Name: Rana
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Species: Duro
Homeworld: Duro
Profession: Refugee
Skills: Good at negotiating and generally creating peace wherever needed. That said, she does have some basic firearms skills, and is strong enough to hold her own in a one-on-one fight with someone of equal size. However, her combat experience is limited.
Possessions: Primitive knife, dirty coat, small pouch for carrying credits.
Appearance: Rana is 1.8 meters tall, standing at a relatively normal height, though still somewhat short for her species. Her skin is a pale blue, and her eyes are a fierce red. She has a thick build, with stout limbs. She clothes herself in a brown, haggard jacket and cargo pants, lending to a very destitute look.
Personality: Rana does not care for abstract ideologies. She is very down to earth, more focused on the immediate problem (for her, often survival) than any long term consequences. Her general attitude is surprisingly upbeat, often able to find the upside to any given situation. This makes her more easily able to perform an action that others would perceive as selfish, as her ability to rationalize by finding a good reason to cling to is powerful. She is more than willing to steal if it makes her life easier, but to kill requires a very good reason. Rana also finds herself very prone to taking comments from others personally; sensitive to words more often than physical pain. Because of this, she will often lie to save face. She has a sense of self-worthlessness thanks to her recent history and long term poverty.
Personal History: Rana was born into a poor family huddling in some rancid corner of an orbital city above Duro. Life has always been tough for her and her family, and their lack of political power thanks to the Duran political system, which gave only large stockholders any political sway, has ensured that she remained crawling in the mud. The lack of both political and economic freedom drained any patriotism there could have been from her mind. Her family, however, was very loyal to their homeworld of Duro, as their weak minds found it easier to love the hand that beat them than to hate it. Rana, despite her poverty, was still given a basic education, but she is still very naﶥ and lacks knowledge in many subjects.
Her kin slowly died of starvation or health issues that could not be paid for over the years. By the time she was twenty-five, all but her mother had been picked off by the cruel hand of fate. When rumors of the confederation tearing itself apart in the near future came to light, Rana decided that enough was enough. She would flee with her mother to find a better life elsewhere. Her mother resisted the idea, not wishing to abandon the planet she loved so much, but Rana managed to convince her by claiming that they could return once things had settled down. In truth, Rana was allured by the need for adventure shared by most Duros.
Once Rana reached the station, she discovered that her lack of a skill set still put her in a nasty position. Legitimate work was impossible to find, so she had to join a Duros refugee gang to make a living. While she was in this gang, she brutalized merchants, broke into apartments, and mugged innocent people. This was very difficult for her, as this was ugly work, but she comforted herself with the phrase, "everyone has to make a living somehow." However, her self-disgust still managed to grow as her work went on.
Her fellow thugs taught her to use blaster weaponry to make her more efficient. After a few months of this dirty work, Rana was told to help kidnap some children to be sold into prostitution. This was the straw that broke the camel's back. Her "friends" threatened to kill her mother if she left, but she did not heed their warnings. Rana's mother was found dead a week later, her limbs severed and scattered across the station. Rather than retaliate, Rana went into hiding; she knew that reporting the gang to the guards would result in her part in their operations to be revealed. Now her days are spent hiding from her former companions, begging on the edges of markets. Ongoing investigations into some of her previous murders and thieveries have placed her as a suspect, and she is therefore not allowed to leave the station. She is trapped in a cage with lions.
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Species: Duro
Homeworld: Duro
Profession: Refugee
Skills: Good at negotiating and generally creating peace wherever needed. That said, she does have some basic firearms skills, and is strong enough to hold her own in a one-on-one fight with someone of equal size. However, her combat experience is limited.
Possessions: Primitive knife, dirty coat, small pouch for carrying credits.
Appearance: Rana is 1.8 meters tall, standing at a relatively normal height, though still somewhat short for her species. Her skin is a pale blue, and her eyes are a fierce red. She has a thick build, with stout limbs. She clothes herself in a brown, haggard jacket and cargo pants, lending to a very destitute look.
Personality: Rana does not care for abstract ideologies. She is very down to earth, more focused on the immediate problem (for her, often survival) than any long term consequences. Her general attitude is surprisingly upbeat, often able to find the upside to any given situation. This makes her more easily able to perform an action that others would perceive as selfish, as her ability to rationalize by finding a good reason to cling to is powerful. She is more than willing to steal if it makes her life easier, but to kill requires a very good reason. Rana also finds herself very prone to taking comments from others personally; sensitive to words more often than physical pain. Because of this, she will often lie to save face. She has a sense of self-worthlessness thanks to her recent history and long term poverty.
Personal History: Rana was born into a poor family huddling in some rancid corner of an orbital city above Duro. Life has always been tough for her and her family, and their lack of political power thanks to the Duran political system, which gave only large stockholders any political sway, has ensured that she remained crawling in the mud. The lack of both political and economic freedom drained any patriotism there could have been from her mind. Her family, however, was very loyal to their homeworld of Duro, as their weak minds found it easier to love the hand that beat them than to hate it. Rana, despite her poverty, was still given a basic education, but she is still very naﶥ and lacks knowledge in many subjects.
Her kin slowly died of starvation or health issues that could not be paid for over the years. By the time she was twenty-five, all but her mother had been picked off by the cruel hand of fate. When rumors of the confederation tearing itself apart in the near future came to light, Rana decided that enough was enough. She would flee with her mother to find a better life elsewhere. Her mother resisted the idea, not wishing to abandon the planet she loved so much, but Rana managed to convince her by claiming that they could return once things had settled down. In truth, Rana was allured by the need for adventure shared by most Duros.
Once Rana reached the station, she discovered that her lack of a skill set still put her in a nasty position. Legitimate work was impossible to find, so she had to join a Duros refugee gang to make a living. While she was in this gang, she brutalized merchants, broke into apartments, and mugged innocent people. This was very difficult for her, as this was ugly work, but she comforted herself with the phrase, "everyone has to make a living somehow." However, her self-disgust still managed to grow as her work went on.
Her fellow thugs taught her to use blaster weaponry to make her more efficient. After a few months of this dirty work, Rana was told to help kidnap some children to be sold into prostitution. This was the straw that broke the camel's back. Her "friends" threatened to kill her mother if she left, but she did not heed their warnings. Rana's mother was found dead a week later, her limbs severed and scattered across the station. Rather than retaliate, Rana went into hiding; she knew that reporting the gang to the guards would result in her part in their operations to be revealed. Now her days are spent hiding from her former companions, begging on the edges of markets. Ongoing investigations into some of her previous murders and thieveries have placed her as a suspect, and she is therefore not allowed to leave the station. She is trapped in a cage with lions.
Name: Ruu Dazon
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Species: Twi'lek
Homeworld: Tatooine
Profession: Small time crime lord
Skills: Keen intellect and proficiency with blades
Possessions: Always carries a small pouch of Giggledust, a blaster pistol and a vibroblade
Appearance: Ruu is very thin for a Twi'lek and to some, even appears to be borderline emaciated. His poor appearance has been caused by his addiction to the narcotic, Giggledust, a type of spice he sells. Despite his generally thin frame, he is quite muscular and sports a variety of black and dark blue tattoos on his dark orange skin.
Personality: Ruthless, yet personable would be a phrase most people would use to describe Ruu, as in general he is one of the most epithetic, kind and just plain nice people there are, but when people take his good nature as a sign of weakness and try to use him, he is ruthless in his dealings and thinks nothing of past ties to the individual he is destroying, be it an emotional or physical destruction, and he shows no remorse for any of his actions.
He is surprisingly free willed for a being that grew up as a slave, and as such, rules have never been his forte. Luckily, breaking rule is another knack of his, which is another reason he has succeeded so well in his field of business.
Personal History: Born into slavery to a mighty Hutt gangster on Tatooine, it was clear from the star that Ruu would never have an easy life. His master was an abusive scumbag and often ordered his slaves beaten and humiliated for his amusement, but despite all his mistreatment, Ruu stayed optimistic and never allowed his torments to make him bitter.
At the age of 22, the Hutt that owned Ruu spotted his servants keen intellect and saw that there was an opportunity to make some money out of the young Twi'lek, and so, Ruu was freed in the loosest sense of the word.
After five years of steady advancement through the Hutts criminal network, Ruu was finally given the break he had always dreamed of and was given the responsibility of running the narcotics trade in and around Graveyard station, however, the time in the Hutts crime family had made Ruu ambitious and after only a year of operations under the Hutts, Ruu ceased giving his old master a cut of his profits, exiled all those loyal to his tormentor and switched his narcotics supplier, in what went down as one of the most ambitious coups in the history of the Hutts.
This move did not go down well with the Hutts and Ruu has found himself the targets of many assassination attempts over the years, though his unnatural luck and skill have seen him through many tough spots in the past and will surely see him through more in the future.
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Species: Twi'lek
Homeworld: Tatooine
Profession: Small time crime lord
Skills: Keen intellect and proficiency with blades
Possessions: Always carries a small pouch of Giggledust, a blaster pistol and a vibroblade
Appearance: Ruu is very thin for a Twi'lek and to some, even appears to be borderline emaciated. His poor appearance has been caused by his addiction to the narcotic, Giggledust, a type of spice he sells. Despite his generally thin frame, he is quite muscular and sports a variety of black and dark blue tattoos on his dark orange skin.
Personality: Ruthless, yet personable would be a phrase most people would use to describe Ruu, as in general he is one of the most epithetic, kind and just plain nice people there are, but when people take his good nature as a sign of weakness and try to use him, he is ruthless in his dealings and thinks nothing of past ties to the individual he is destroying, be it an emotional or physical destruction, and he shows no remorse for any of his actions.
He is surprisingly free willed for a being that grew up as a slave, and as such, rules have never been his forte. Luckily, breaking rule is another knack of his, which is another reason he has succeeded so well in his field of business.
Personal History: Born into slavery to a mighty Hutt gangster on Tatooine, it was clear from the star that Ruu would never have an easy life. His master was an abusive scumbag and often ordered his slaves beaten and humiliated for his amusement, but despite all his mistreatment, Ruu stayed optimistic and never allowed his torments to make him bitter.
At the age of 22, the Hutt that owned Ruu spotted his servants keen intellect and saw that there was an opportunity to make some money out of the young Twi'lek, and so, Ruu was freed in the loosest sense of the word.
After five years of steady advancement through the Hutts criminal network, Ruu was finally given the break he had always dreamed of and was given the responsibility of running the narcotics trade in and around Graveyard station, however, the time in the Hutts crime family had made Ruu ambitious and after only a year of operations under the Hutts, Ruu ceased giving his old master a cut of his profits, exiled all those loyal to his tormentor and switched his narcotics supplier, in what went down as one of the most ambitious coups in the history of the Hutts.
This move did not go down well with the Hutts and Ruu has found himself the targets of many assassination attempts over the years, though his unnatural luck and skill have seen him through many tough spots in the past and will surely see him through more in the future.
Name: William
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Species: Echani
Homeworld: Graveyard station
Profession: Pickpocket, thief, thug whatever pays the bills
Skills: William learnt to keep out of sight from a young age to keep from people who were looking for him. He learnt to move quickly and quietly, however stealing food from the less wary soon proved a dangerous and risky business. As he grew he followed the maintenance teams observing them from afar. With a little intuition and close calls, screwing with the security systems became easier and easier. Of course on occasion there were some traditionalists who stuck to more primitive locking methods, but after stabbing at them with sharp objects he finally got the knack of how to pick a lock.
Possessions: A knife and a blaster
Appearance: Standing at 5 ft 11 inches with white hair and silver eyes. He is lean rather and has very little bulk to him, at a cursory glance you would likely miss them but his skin has knicks and scratches from his everyday activities.
Personality: Wary and aggressive. He tends to be quiet around people, but that's more due to a lack of friends, the people he deals with wouldn't call him talkative, but would say he was friendlier than most. However, there is a disturbing correlation between people who have mocked him and people who have woken up drugged and beaten.
That said he seems to have a soft spot for the less well off, many refugees have found him useful for procuring food and water from, well best not tell. This streak comes from his own upbringing where he too struggled.
Personal History: Brought to the station at an early age he found himself alone. Maybe too much time has passed or maybe he chose to forget, but in either case his parents are mystery to him. Perhaps he went missing, did they search for him, maybe they died? After a year of searching, he chose to stop caring. They were gone and he needed to survive, that's all there was. He spent his early life working with gangs and criminals. That didn't work out, he often found himself in hot water and decided he would work alone. That didn't work out well either, he then had criminals and security searching for him.
Eventually he landed in the refugee sector, where he took what he could from the supplies being handed round. It was easy game as many guards turned a blind eye to children taking food. However he grew up, supplies started being cut to the refugees. He had two choices, back to the gangs or go into business for himself. So he took up his own business, stealing supplies and selling them to refugees, with the occasional more specialised job. Of course even when he was young he understood what to and not to steal. Anything shiny, permanent, inedible was a big no. Food and water the evidence hid itself. A necklace, ores, that got you into a bind. If there was a buyer though, then it became someone else's problem then it suited him just fine.
However one day he found himself working for a refugee and he found himself working a hardened crooks game, breaking into warehouses, breaking jaws and scaring the shit out of merchants who couldn't pay up. Soon they became one of the gangs active on Graveyard. That was until the refugee who he worked for got caught. The gang tried to fill the vacuum and he left in the commotion.
Now he is looking for a way to ship out, unfortunately he has only ever known Graveyard Station, most of the universe he took a blind eye to. Where his next meal is coming from was always a bigger priority. Now though, he searches for a ship headed to Kuat.
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Species: Echani
Homeworld: Graveyard station
Profession: Pickpocket, thief, thug whatever pays the bills
Skills: William learnt to keep out of sight from a young age to keep from people who were looking for him. He learnt to move quickly and quietly, however stealing food from the less wary soon proved a dangerous and risky business. As he grew he followed the maintenance teams observing them from afar. With a little intuition and close calls, screwing with the security systems became easier and easier. Of course on occasion there were some traditionalists who stuck to more primitive locking methods, but after stabbing at them with sharp objects he finally got the knack of how to pick a lock.
Possessions: A knife and a blaster
Appearance: Standing at 5 ft 11 inches with white hair and silver eyes. He is lean rather and has very little bulk to him, at a cursory glance you would likely miss them but his skin has knicks and scratches from his everyday activities.
Personality: Wary and aggressive. He tends to be quiet around people, but that's more due to a lack of friends, the people he deals with wouldn't call him talkative, but would say he was friendlier than most. However, there is a disturbing correlation between people who have mocked him and people who have woken up drugged and beaten.
That said he seems to have a soft spot for the less well off, many refugees have found him useful for procuring food and water from, well best not tell. This streak comes from his own upbringing where he too struggled.
Personal History: Brought to the station at an early age he found himself alone. Maybe too much time has passed or maybe he chose to forget, but in either case his parents are mystery to him. Perhaps he went missing, did they search for him, maybe they died? After a year of searching, he chose to stop caring. They were gone and he needed to survive, that's all there was. He spent his early life working with gangs and criminals. That didn't work out, he often found himself in hot water and decided he would work alone. That didn't work out well either, he then had criminals and security searching for him.
Eventually he landed in the refugee sector, where he took what he could from the supplies being handed round. It was easy game as many guards turned a blind eye to children taking food. However he grew up, supplies started being cut to the refugees. He had two choices, back to the gangs or go into business for himself. So he took up his own business, stealing supplies and selling them to refugees, with the occasional more specialised job. Of course even when he was young he understood what to and not to steal. Anything shiny, permanent, inedible was a big no. Food and water the evidence hid itself. A necklace, ores, that got you into a bind. If there was a buyer though, then it became someone else's problem then it suited him just fine.
However one day he found himself working for a refugee and he found himself working a hardened crooks game, breaking into warehouses, breaking jaws and scaring the shit out of merchants who couldn't pay up. Soon they became one of the gangs active on Graveyard. That was until the refugee who he worked for got caught. The gang tried to fill the vacuum and he left in the commotion.
Now he is looking for a way to ship out, unfortunately he has only ever known Graveyard Station, most of the universe he took a blind eye to. Where his next meal is coming from was always a bigger priority. Now though, he searches for a ship headed to Kuat.
Character Sheet Part 2 is in a few posts down.
