Post by Dr. Jake on Apr 12, 2012 20:46:32 GMT -5
Password: Trouble with Tribbles
Name: Jare’Nabala (Jaren Abala)
Age: 29
Race: Twi’lek
Birth place: Ryloth
Height: 5’11”
Weight: 170 lbs
Eye Color: Gray
Hair Color: None
Appearance:
To say that Jaren is unusual would be an understatement of the most extreme variety. He is a Lethan Twi’lek, his skin being an attractive light red, not quite crimson. This rare skin tone starkly contrasts his pale, gray eyes. The young pilot’s red skin lightens very slightly on his face, and darkens at the lekku with the same slightness.
The Lethan smuggler has an average build, with capable, exercised arms and rather muscled chest and abs, though he admits to himself that this is more for appearance than anything else. His legs are thin, yet more than capable of getting him from place to place. Running from his right armpit to his left hip is a massive scar from a fighter crash on Ord Mantell.
Jaren is rather handsome, but not to an extreme. His face is normal in most aspects, with slightly raised cheekbones and a high forehead. His nose is straight, and faces downward. Jaren’s thin lips are often curved into a bemused smile, but melancholy frowns aren’t uncommon, be it result of a bad card game or an over observant port authority ruining his day.
The pilot is usually seen wearing black trousers and a white short-sleeved shirt, covered by a button-up black jacket. This is his outfit while in the cockpit, and in the cantina, though he does shed the jacket when grounded on warmer worlds. His feet are either clothed in black boots or slightly dressier brown ones. For those rare occasions where his attire needs to be more respectable, he clothes himself in a blue blazer and a pair of brown pants. For sleep, Jaren usually just sleeps with his underwear on, not caring about his appearance while enshrouded under warm sheets. Jaren is never without his necklace, which has a Gutkurr tooth on the end of it. His lekku are usually arranged behind his shoulders, or with the left one draped over his shoulder.
Personality:
Being a Smuggler, Jaren is quite charming and confident, yet not bloated or arrogant. For some, his charm is genuine, for others it is just to get what he wants. His looks help, being the rarest type of twi’lek in existence (Male Rutian), and a looker at that, buys him some brownie points with the opposite sex.
Jaren is not quick to anger, yet impatient, especially with the government and other such incompetent organizations. He is most certainly not a morning person, but is much more lively and happy-go-lucky in the afternoon and evening times. Speaking of evenings, Jaren is quite the partier, and frequents Cantinas, as long as the ship he is serving on is docked at a respectable enough place.
The Lethan man handles stress well, being a pilot, and will rarely break under pressure. This being said, he is no leader, caring more for his next job or next bottle of rum than what happens to the rest of the crew. This being said, he is an exceptional planner, and rather than spontaneously take off for the Cantina, he prefers to go at specific times. Jeran always thinks ahead, be it a spice run to Nar Shadaa, or a beautiful Zeltron Bar patron.
Although he is friendly, Jaren doesn’t like to form many attachments, even to those that he spends large amounts of time with.
Profession: Pilot (Occasional smuggler, translator, or mercenary)
Skills:
Piloting (freighters, shuttles, and fighters)
Basic Mechanic Skills
Fluent Languages: Huttese, Basic, Ryl, Bocce, and Rodese
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 5
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 5
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 5
Melee Weapons: 3
Ranged Weapons: 6
Bio:
Conception-Birth
The life of Jare'Nabala began on Ryloth, when he was born to Astin and Keida Nabala. However, the story began years earlier when the couple met and married.
Asti'Nabala was a member of the Republic Navy, a fighter and shuttle pilot. Near the end of one particular tour, the fleet he was attached to stopped at Ryloth for resupply and fresh crew members. The pilots were allowed to go on planet and take a few days of R&R.
Astin decided, along with some of the other pilots, to go to a cantina favorited by young female twi'leks who liked to party. And party they did, with a group of young ladies, one of them being Jaren's future mother, Keida.
Even without the alcohol, Astin fell in love with her, and she him. However, love is never easy and after his leave was quite over, Astin had to leave, but before he did so, the green skinned pilot promised to return.
The next few months went on as would be normal for a Republic fleet, passing from system to system settling disputes and patrolling Republic space. But one thing was amiss, Astin went on doing his duties and with the finesse that was expected, yet thoughts of his love on Ryloth bombarded him every single day.
What seemed like a century later, his tour finally ended and he was payed the meager amount of credits that passed for pilot wages. He used a large fraction of those funds to purchase passage back to Ryloth. Once he arrived, he found his beloved via the address that she had given him.
After the approval of her parents, Astin proposed to Keida, and she accepted without hesitation. They were married soon after, and using what little money he had left, Astin purchased an apartment in the city, where he could find work to provide for his new family.
The fledgling family settled into their new home with relative ease and comfort. However financial troubles soon plagued the lovers, as Astin could find no steady job, taking daily piloting errands to put a meal on the table. Despite his protests, Keida took up a job at a local restaurant waiting tables just so they could make ends meet.
The wages were meager, and the living conditions were definitely sub-par, but the young couple survived. Keida was devastated one morning when she noticed that she was pregnant.
What kind of life would her child have? Would she be able to provide for him, as her mother had for her? No. The answer was blatant and obvious. That evening she planned to reveal the news to her beloved husband. But, before she could speak the dreaded words Astin had news of his own.
He explained to his wife that he had secured a steady piloting job transporting medical supplies to the nearby systems. The job payed well, but Astin would have to be away for several days at a time. His sense of triumph was interrupted by surprise when Keida announced her pregnancy. Surprise became joy once he contemplated the fact that he would have a child, someone to carry on his name.
Keida's worries were washed away, once Astin's checks came in, she could quit her job and the family could live in comfort and ease. Once this though occurred to her, the young lady was filled with delight and anticipation for her baby.
As the appropriate amount of time passed, Keida's stomach swelled as young Jaren began growing and developing. On a cloudy, warm day, the child entered the world without complication.
The child was a boy, and Keida named hime Jare'Nabala after her father-in-law. He was especially exceptional due to his red skin, a desirable genetic mutation. The first few years of his life were spent being adored by his family, who cherished their first born son. During this time he learned to speak both Ryl and Basic from his parents, though not to a level that was unusual for twi'leks his age.
Childhood and Pubescence
Once his personality began to develop, it was clear that Jaren was mischievous,if not difficult child. This being said, the rare Lethan Twi'lek was exceptionally intelligent, not to mention cute. His parents both knew that Jaren would be a handful when he was older, but they decided not to dwell on such thoughts, and enjoy their son while they could.
Eventually, five year old Jaren was enrolled in school. The child was a bit disruptive and troublesome for his teachers, talking or napping when he should have been doing his lessons. However, after some initial effort, Jaren and his teachers discovered that he was very good at logic and mathematics, as well as memorizing certain patterns or procedures.
If the young boy would have applied himself in all his subjects, he may have had received scholarships for Core World universities, an opportunity that most Twi'leks would kill for. Jaren was peculiar among his species however, and had other plans.
Since the child could babble, he had been transfixed with his father. The man was a mystery to him, Astin working nearly all of the time had little time with his son. Keida understood that he was a boy, and it was natural for boys to favorite their fathers at young ages.
Once Jaren was able to process the fact that his father piloted starships (another aspect he had a passion for), he wished that he could grow up to be just like his "Papa", and fly the cool starships.
As he aged and matured, Jaren began to form an interest in those complicated little creatures known as girls. All throughout Primary and Middle school he had been popular and friendly, and had "girlfriends", but no serious relationships. The girls had always been perplexed, yet intrigued by his beautiful red hide. This all changed when puberty came to the Lethan twi'lek, and he began attending parties, and staying out late, which led to drinking and such.
If Keida and Astin thought Jaren was wild when he was small, they were sure to get a run for their money now that he was a teenager. He partied and such, and his parents cracked down, setting a strict curfew and setting punishments in place until their son complied. Their parenting wasn't all for nothing, as the teenager never did do or sell spice. Both his parents, being Twi'leks had been exposed to the stuff at various points in their life (though neither of them had ever tried it) so they had drilled Jaren about the subject from birth.
This being said, Jaren did sleep around a bit, and party, and drink. However, he still managed to maintain honors in Math, Physics, and Language classes (thought the latter was a bit unfair since his parents both spoke basic and broken Huttese).
Sometime around his 17th birthday, Jaren's father decided that they needed to spend more time together, and since he was a pilot he figured that he could teach his son a thing or two. Once he heard the knews, Jaren was ecstatic, for all those years under the wild child was deep admiration and respect for his father, and longing to follow in his footsteps.
During a school holiday, Astin got a shipping assignment to Tatooine, and since it was a rather long trip, he decided to take Jaren along. The young twi'lek was barely able to contain his excitement once he was told of the trip.
During their little adventure, the father-son pair shared many hours of basic and advanced instruction and practice on the subject of piloting and navigation. Jaren was a natural, easily able to grasp the art of flying. It was also during this time that Astin, after some initial hesitation, introduced his son to the world of blasters. Astin showed his son the basics of maintenance and care, safety, loading, firing, and other such vital knowledge.
Soon, to their mutual dismay the trip ended. For the next year or so Jaren accompanied his father on assignments throughout the Outer Rim during his school vacations. During this time, he learned more advanced piloting and maintenance skills, as well as acquiring practice in the use of blaster pistols. On some of these trips, a Rodian pilot would be sent to assist Astin in piloting some of the larger ships, since Jaren's presence was unofficial. From this pilot, Jaren learned a bit of Rodese and a bit more Huttese, as well as a few more pointers on flying.
In the following year, Jaren graduated high school to the immense pride of both of his parents. However, this pride was shrouded with surprise once Jaren announced to them that he wished to join the Republic Navy and become a starfighter pilot. From his point of view, he get to adventure and sight see, while being paid for such. However, Astin new the reality behind it from his years in the Navy, and tried to convince his only child to go to language school or become a freighter pilot.
Jaren would hear nothing of it, and finally convinced his parents that he would be happy serving the Republic and touring the galaxy.
Military Life
After making an emotional departure from his home, Jaren, with little more than a handful of credits and two outfits, made his way to the local Republic Navy Recruitment Center. There he enlisted, and was sent to a prestigious flying academy on Carida.
While at the academy, Jaren made many friends, and even befriended the instructors to an extent. Though many of the students became jealous of Jaren's talent in the Art of Flight, he wasn't the best in his class.
Jaren spent nearly an entire year on Carida, learning how to pilot several different types of Republic fighters, freighters, and shuttles. Flying wasn't all that was taught to the Cadets at this point, all of them received basic training in standard issue Republic weaponry. Jaren was a little above average, yet not on par with some of the natural sharpshooters of the class.
At this point, the Navy was also seeking those who could speak multiple languages to better communicate with locals and militia who didn't speak basic. Jaren actually volunteered for the program, since it had a little pay raise and the program offered lessons in the languages of Rodese, Huttese, and Bocce for those that volunteered as translators. Though he cared little for rank, Jaren would greatly enjoy the automatic promotion to Specialist which came with completion of the program.
In what seemed to him as only a few weeks, Jaren graduated from the Academy, passing with flying colors and without incident, despite some business about a night with a Hapan instructor. He was given two weeks leave, in which time he took to visit his parents and relax a bit before he was called to serve the Republic.
Nineteen-year-old Specialist Jare'Nabala was assigned to the Republic 4th Fleet with a fighter attachment on board an escort cruiser. Once he settled into the bunk that settled for his quarters, Jaren decided that he was well suited for the Navy Life.
He served aboard the same ship for six months, seeing no real action outside of translating Planetary Transmissions. He was in for a rude awakening a week after his twentieth birthday, when the 4th Fleet was sent to pursue an unusually large pirate strike fleet.
The fleets finally met, and engaged accordingly around the orbit of the world of Ord Mantell. The Republic had underestimated the Pirates' forces, and were momentarily overwhelmed with a barrage of concussion missiles and laser cannon fire. However, the fighters were eventually launched, Jaren's among them.
Jaren maneuvered his Aurek with expertise, despite his young age and inexperience. He avoided being hit throughout the beginning of the battle, and even brought down a few hostiles. The thrill he felt in his heart was intense, scoring his first true victory. It was only much later he realized that there were sentient beings in those cockpits, and that he and he alone had ended their lives.
As the battle progressed, the sheer firepower of the Republic forces overcame those of the Pirates, and the majority of the fleet was eradicated, with a few surrendering. However, there was a single gunboat that chose to go down in one last act of defiance by firing a volley of concussion missiles at a nearby fighter wing. That fighter wing turned out to be Jaren's. No amount of maneuvering could have saved the fighter as a projectile exploded at the aft of the craft.
So began a long downward spiral, until the craft entered the atmosphere of the planet. All the while, Jaren was doing his best to slow down the Aurek, but to no avail. It crashed in the middle of a plain, the impact nearly killing the Lethan Twi'lek inside.
Jaren awoke the next day parched, starving, and every inch of his being screaming in pain. He managed to remove him self from the wreckage, very aware of the fact that his survival was nothing short of a miracle. The pilot later discovered that his back had suffered a gaping wound, and that he had broken two ribs.
The red skinned pilot survived by salvaging what was left of his emergency rations and dressing the wound with his shirt. The emergency flare and the fighter's comm systems were both damaged in the crash, so Jaren had to sit there praying that someone would notice him there before the predators did.
His prayers were answered when a Planetary Security Airspeeder pilot noticed his fighter's wreckage in the field. Pilot found him lying down, very dehydrated and weak. The Fleet had lost several fighter pilot in the same attack Jaren suffered, so they had requested the local Law Enforcement to help them find corpses and survivors alike.
As one might imagine, Jaren, like any young man would, was traumatized quite heavily by the events of the battle. He was indeed a young man, at twenty. The wounded pilot spent the next two months in a Military Hospital on the same planet as his crash. The following six months were spent in recovery and preforming very light linguistic duties.
After he had recovered, Jaren returned to the full military life. To his immense displeasure, the Fleet Command reassigned him to supply runs and shuttle duties. A retired fighter pilot at the age of 21. The concept was incomprehensible to the young and adventurous Twi'lek. For this reason, he made no attempt to take another tour of duty once his expired.
As a result, Jaren was honorably discharged from the service. A total of three years of his life were spent in service to the Republic, something that would bring him a sort of silent pride, a kind that one never spoke of. He had also received formal linguistic and piloting training, and he reasoned that it would be easy to find a job with the experience he had.
Return to Ryloth
The Navy arranged for transport back to his homeworld, and Jaren obliged. For the first time in a while, he visited his parents, who were absolutely overjoyed and surprised with their son's return. Despite his continuous protests, his mother arranged a welcome home party for the young veteran.
In the months following the party, Jaren took on a few odd pilotting jobs to help his parents out. Then, he received his final payment from the Navy and he was back on his feet again. The pilot refused to live the life his father had, surviving on his flying ability, because he learned something in the months that he had done menial work here and there. It really sucked.
Deciding that the lifestyle wasn't for him, Jaren ventured to purchase his own freighter. He struck a deal with his father, just like old times, Jaren would help Astin with transporting various goods across the galaxy. The pair went on like this for the next year or so, until Jaren had accumulated enough capital to purchase his own light freighter.
The Lethan veteran purchased a small freighter, only capable of transporting light amounts of cargo. Immensely proud of his accomplishment, Jaren christened the ship as The Forlorn Adventure. This was all right and good to Jaren, until he realized that such small cargo capacity led to very little profit. At that point the young twi'lek made a decision that would forever change his life.
A life as a Smuggler
Jaren decided to become a smuggler. He was well qualified, adept with pistols, a hotshot pilot, and most importantly, rather charismatic. The money was absolutely exceptional compared to the mediocre wages he had managed only days earlier. In short, he was absolutely in love with the occupation, not to mention the booze, money, and women.
His first run was a shipment of military-grade weapons to a militia on Thyferra. The run went without incident, and the payout coupled with the thrill was a complete dealmaker to Jaren.
He went on running minor spice, weapons, and even VIPs all around the Outer and Mid Rims, occasionally venturing to the more developed regions near the Core. These adventures went on for a few years until Jaren was just over the age of 25. He had a considerable amount of credits, a good ship, and a stream of contacts and jobs to draw from.
Everything changed once a jealous conglomerate of smuggler czars noticed the unusual success of Jaren's smuggling operation. The group was immensely wealthy and powerful, so they had Jaren taken care of.
One night, Jaren was in a cantina on Commenor, blowing away some of the days earnings, when he met a beautiful Zelosian woman who simply captivated his interests for the night. One drink became six, and one thing led to another before the pair were back in the Adventure engaging in activities that only adults should.
The next morning, Jaren awoke in an alley with only a set of underwear, his blaster pistol, and the latter's holster. The red-skinned pilot was bristling with fury, especially once he found a small rolled up note inside his underwear with the message:
Confused and angry, Jaren searched the entire spaceport for any trace of his beloved ship, but to no avail. Although not proud of what he did, Jaren was forced to entertain a Human woman name Cordulla.
This woman was ...impressed with Jaren's appearance and performance, and sympathized with him when he shared his story with her. She was an upper-class business woman who had been interested when she noticed Jaren roaming the streets in search of food. The woman payed him for his services, but also gave him extra credits to help the victimized Twi'lek back on his feet.
He used the healthy amount of funds to buy a few blaster power cells for his pistol, a couple sets of clothes, and a black pilot's jacket, as well as some provisions for the next several days.
Despite the generous woman's payment, Jaren was again broke, but was far better equipped this time around. He hit an obstacle once the twi'lek could find no freighters in need of pilots in the area. He was forced to take on mercenary work, taking on rather low risk jobs or taking advantage of a desperate cantina worker in need of a temporary bouncer. By doing this, he survived, and didn't have to lower himself to prostitution again. Eventually, a cargo freighter arrived near the place he was staying, and the captain agreed to pay him a small fee and allow him lodging aboard the ship until they arrived on Corellia.
It was in the Core Worlds that a new Jaren was born. This Jaren, still outwardly carefree and jolly, was different. The new Jaren was a grudging creature, loathing the mysterious group that had taken his beloved ship. He hunted for information everywhere, taking on piloting jobs to survive, and occasionally translating papers; all the while saving little by little.
Jaren, now in his late twenties, has been drifting from system to system piloting freighters for various captains or serving as a translator for more varied crews. The pilot searches for any scrap of information on a group of senior smugglers regulating the industry. He aspires to buy another ship, and become a smuggler once again, as it was one of the few jobs Jaren actually enjoyed.
RP Sample:
The pair of dice landed on the table and jumped about, performing their random dance. The patrons of the table all sat watching attentively, awaiting the decisive results. Finally, the first dice ceased spinning. 3. Then the second, 4.
Hell Yeah!
The energized exclamation came from the red lips of a Lethan twi’lek that as he deposited the dice , leaped out of his seat, and quickly grabbed up his winnings. Jaren Abala, more correctly Jare’Nabala, took a celebrative swig from his glass filled with Corellian rum.
That was wonderfully engaging game fellas, but regretfully I have to go. Sadly, I can’t deprive you of even more credits. To make it up to you, here’s a round on me.
Jaren said the words through an amused smile, interrupted by the occasional chuckle from his inner joker. Once he was quite finished with his gloating, he slapped down an appropriate amount of credits on the table and walked out of the cantina entrance, his unusual skin catching a few eyes as Raltiir’s sun caught the red hide.
The pilot made it about thirty feet from the cantina door when an enraged Devaronian emerged from the open door.
Hey Schutta! Those dice were loaded! Give me the winnings, and I may just forgive you!
The horned gambler yelled loudly, catching a few eyes. Jaren quickly scanned the area, and once he was content that there were no law enforcement agents around, he turned around the face the irate patron.
Dear friend, I can assure you, my intentions were strictly honorable, as were the stakes. I believe you lost your week’s wages fair and square. So, I’m afraid that there is no way in hell that I’m giving you a damn thing, save for a word of advice. Don’t mess with me.
Jaren said the words politely, yet casually as if talking to a recently met friend, dropping the guise near the end of his response.
The Devaronian drew some sort of exotic knife from his belt and began walking toward the twi’lek, muttering something about thief and liar. Jaren’s next action wasn’t as pronounced. The sound of metal against leather was heard as he drew the blaster pistol that rested in his belt holster and pointed it at the attacker’s chest.
He stopped dead in his tracks and stared wide eyed at his would-be victim who now held his entire future in his hands, or trigger finger rather. This always amazed Jaren, how simple ordinary people could decide the fate of others with such subtle actions.
Uhhh… s…sor-… sorry, just please don’t hurt me!
The apparently drunk gambler said, pleading for a shred of mercy from a man he would have killed seconds earlier.
Sell the knife, go home, and stop gambling. You suck at it, almost as much as using that weapon of yours. I’ll let you slide this time, but if you ever accuse me of cheating again, I’ll shoot you dead.
The twi’lek tried hard not to laugh, despite the fact that he very well could have just died or killed a man. The fact that the gambler would accuse him of cheating, rather it was true or not, quite humorous considering he had a blaster at his side. As he watched the rattled man run away into the distance, he could only chuckle as he felt the dice in his pocket.
Idiot.
Name: Jare’Nabala (Jaren Abala)
Age: 29
Race: Twi’lek
Birth place: Ryloth
Height: 5’11”
Weight: 170 lbs
Eye Color: Gray
Hair Color: None
Appearance:
To say that Jaren is unusual would be an understatement of the most extreme variety. He is a Lethan Twi’lek, his skin being an attractive light red, not quite crimson. This rare skin tone starkly contrasts his pale, gray eyes. The young pilot’s red skin lightens very slightly on his face, and darkens at the lekku with the same slightness.
The Lethan smuggler has an average build, with capable, exercised arms and rather muscled chest and abs, though he admits to himself that this is more for appearance than anything else. His legs are thin, yet more than capable of getting him from place to place. Running from his right armpit to his left hip is a massive scar from a fighter crash on Ord Mantell.
Jaren is rather handsome, but not to an extreme. His face is normal in most aspects, with slightly raised cheekbones and a high forehead. His nose is straight, and faces downward. Jaren’s thin lips are often curved into a bemused smile, but melancholy frowns aren’t uncommon, be it result of a bad card game or an over observant port authority ruining his day.
The pilot is usually seen wearing black trousers and a white short-sleeved shirt, covered by a button-up black jacket. This is his outfit while in the cockpit, and in the cantina, though he does shed the jacket when grounded on warmer worlds. His feet are either clothed in black boots or slightly dressier brown ones. For those rare occasions where his attire needs to be more respectable, he clothes himself in a blue blazer and a pair of brown pants. For sleep, Jaren usually just sleeps with his underwear on, not caring about his appearance while enshrouded under warm sheets. Jaren is never without his necklace, which has a Gutkurr tooth on the end of it. His lekku are usually arranged behind his shoulders, or with the left one draped over his shoulder.
Personality:
Being a Smuggler, Jaren is quite charming and confident, yet not bloated or arrogant. For some, his charm is genuine, for others it is just to get what he wants. His looks help, being the rarest type of twi’lek in existence (Male Rutian), and a looker at that, buys him some brownie points with the opposite sex.
Jaren is not quick to anger, yet impatient, especially with the government and other such incompetent organizations. He is most certainly not a morning person, but is much more lively and happy-go-lucky in the afternoon and evening times. Speaking of evenings, Jaren is quite the partier, and frequents Cantinas, as long as the ship he is serving on is docked at a respectable enough place.
The Lethan man handles stress well, being a pilot, and will rarely break under pressure. This being said, he is no leader, caring more for his next job or next bottle of rum than what happens to the rest of the crew. This being said, he is an exceptional planner, and rather than spontaneously take off for the Cantina, he prefers to go at specific times. Jeran always thinks ahead, be it a spice run to Nar Shadaa, or a beautiful Zeltron Bar patron.
Although he is friendly, Jaren doesn’t like to form many attachments, even to those that he spends large amounts of time with.
Profession: Pilot (Occasional smuggler, translator, or mercenary)
Skills:
Piloting (freighters, shuttles, and fighters)
Basic Mechanic Skills
Fluent Languages: Huttese, Basic, Ryl, Bocce, and Rodese
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 5
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 5
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 5
Melee Weapons: 3
Ranged Weapons: 6
Bio:
Conception-Birth
The life of Jare'Nabala began on Ryloth, when he was born to Astin and Keida Nabala. However, the story began years earlier when the couple met and married.
Asti'Nabala was a member of the Republic Navy, a fighter and shuttle pilot. Near the end of one particular tour, the fleet he was attached to stopped at Ryloth for resupply and fresh crew members. The pilots were allowed to go on planet and take a few days of R&R.
Astin decided, along with some of the other pilots, to go to a cantina favorited by young female twi'leks who liked to party. And party they did, with a group of young ladies, one of them being Jaren's future mother, Keida.
Even without the alcohol, Astin fell in love with her, and she him. However, love is never easy and after his leave was quite over, Astin had to leave, but before he did so, the green skinned pilot promised to return.
The next few months went on as would be normal for a Republic fleet, passing from system to system settling disputes and patrolling Republic space. But one thing was amiss, Astin went on doing his duties and with the finesse that was expected, yet thoughts of his love on Ryloth bombarded him every single day.
What seemed like a century later, his tour finally ended and he was payed the meager amount of credits that passed for pilot wages. He used a large fraction of those funds to purchase passage back to Ryloth. Once he arrived, he found his beloved via the address that she had given him.
After the approval of her parents, Astin proposed to Keida, and she accepted without hesitation. They were married soon after, and using what little money he had left, Astin purchased an apartment in the city, where he could find work to provide for his new family.
The fledgling family settled into their new home with relative ease and comfort. However financial troubles soon plagued the lovers, as Astin could find no steady job, taking daily piloting errands to put a meal on the table. Despite his protests, Keida took up a job at a local restaurant waiting tables just so they could make ends meet.
The wages were meager, and the living conditions were definitely sub-par, but the young couple survived. Keida was devastated one morning when she noticed that she was pregnant.
What kind of life would her child have? Would she be able to provide for him, as her mother had for her? No. The answer was blatant and obvious. That evening she planned to reveal the news to her beloved husband. But, before she could speak the dreaded words Astin had news of his own.
He explained to his wife that he had secured a steady piloting job transporting medical supplies to the nearby systems. The job payed well, but Astin would have to be away for several days at a time. His sense of triumph was interrupted by surprise when Keida announced her pregnancy. Surprise became joy once he contemplated the fact that he would have a child, someone to carry on his name.
Keida's worries were washed away, once Astin's checks came in, she could quit her job and the family could live in comfort and ease. Once this though occurred to her, the young lady was filled with delight and anticipation for her baby.
As the appropriate amount of time passed, Keida's stomach swelled as young Jaren began growing and developing. On a cloudy, warm day, the child entered the world without complication.
The child was a boy, and Keida named hime Jare'Nabala after her father-in-law. He was especially exceptional due to his red skin, a desirable genetic mutation. The first few years of his life were spent being adored by his family, who cherished their first born son. During this time he learned to speak both Ryl and Basic from his parents, though not to a level that was unusual for twi'leks his age.
Childhood and Pubescence
Once his personality began to develop, it was clear that Jaren was mischievous,if not difficult child. This being said, the rare Lethan Twi'lek was exceptionally intelligent, not to mention cute. His parents both knew that Jaren would be a handful when he was older, but they decided not to dwell on such thoughts, and enjoy their son while they could.
Eventually, five year old Jaren was enrolled in school. The child was a bit disruptive and troublesome for his teachers, talking or napping when he should have been doing his lessons. However, after some initial effort, Jaren and his teachers discovered that he was very good at logic and mathematics, as well as memorizing certain patterns or procedures.
If the young boy would have applied himself in all his subjects, he may have had received scholarships for Core World universities, an opportunity that most Twi'leks would kill for. Jaren was peculiar among his species however, and had other plans.
Since the child could babble, he had been transfixed with his father. The man was a mystery to him, Astin working nearly all of the time had little time with his son. Keida understood that he was a boy, and it was natural for boys to favorite their fathers at young ages.
Once Jaren was able to process the fact that his father piloted starships (another aspect he had a passion for), he wished that he could grow up to be just like his "Papa", and fly the cool starships.
As he aged and matured, Jaren began to form an interest in those complicated little creatures known as girls. All throughout Primary and Middle school he had been popular and friendly, and had "girlfriends", but no serious relationships. The girls had always been perplexed, yet intrigued by his beautiful red hide. This all changed when puberty came to the Lethan twi'lek, and he began attending parties, and staying out late, which led to drinking and such.
If Keida and Astin thought Jaren was wild when he was small, they were sure to get a run for their money now that he was a teenager. He partied and such, and his parents cracked down, setting a strict curfew and setting punishments in place until their son complied. Their parenting wasn't all for nothing, as the teenager never did do or sell spice. Both his parents, being Twi'leks had been exposed to the stuff at various points in their life (though neither of them had ever tried it) so they had drilled Jaren about the subject from birth.
This being said, Jaren did sleep around a bit, and party, and drink. However, he still managed to maintain honors in Math, Physics, and Language classes (thought the latter was a bit unfair since his parents both spoke basic and broken Huttese).
Sometime around his 17th birthday, Jaren's father decided that they needed to spend more time together, and since he was a pilot he figured that he could teach his son a thing or two. Once he heard the knews, Jaren was ecstatic, for all those years under the wild child was deep admiration and respect for his father, and longing to follow in his footsteps.
During a school holiday, Astin got a shipping assignment to Tatooine, and since it was a rather long trip, he decided to take Jaren along. The young twi'lek was barely able to contain his excitement once he was told of the trip.
During their little adventure, the father-son pair shared many hours of basic and advanced instruction and practice on the subject of piloting and navigation. Jaren was a natural, easily able to grasp the art of flying. It was also during this time that Astin, after some initial hesitation, introduced his son to the world of blasters. Astin showed his son the basics of maintenance and care, safety, loading, firing, and other such vital knowledge.
Soon, to their mutual dismay the trip ended. For the next year or so Jaren accompanied his father on assignments throughout the Outer Rim during his school vacations. During this time, he learned more advanced piloting and maintenance skills, as well as acquiring practice in the use of blaster pistols. On some of these trips, a Rodian pilot would be sent to assist Astin in piloting some of the larger ships, since Jaren's presence was unofficial. From this pilot, Jaren learned a bit of Rodese and a bit more Huttese, as well as a few more pointers on flying.
In the following year, Jaren graduated high school to the immense pride of both of his parents. However, this pride was shrouded with surprise once Jaren announced to them that he wished to join the Republic Navy and become a starfighter pilot. From his point of view, he get to adventure and sight see, while being paid for such. However, Astin new the reality behind it from his years in the Navy, and tried to convince his only child to go to language school or become a freighter pilot.
Jaren would hear nothing of it, and finally convinced his parents that he would be happy serving the Republic and touring the galaxy.
Military Life
After making an emotional departure from his home, Jaren, with little more than a handful of credits and two outfits, made his way to the local Republic Navy Recruitment Center. There he enlisted, and was sent to a prestigious flying academy on Carida.
While at the academy, Jaren made many friends, and even befriended the instructors to an extent. Though many of the students became jealous of Jaren's talent in the Art of Flight, he wasn't the best in his class.
Jaren spent nearly an entire year on Carida, learning how to pilot several different types of Republic fighters, freighters, and shuttles. Flying wasn't all that was taught to the Cadets at this point, all of them received basic training in standard issue Republic weaponry. Jaren was a little above average, yet not on par with some of the natural sharpshooters of the class.
At this point, the Navy was also seeking those who could speak multiple languages to better communicate with locals and militia who didn't speak basic. Jaren actually volunteered for the program, since it had a little pay raise and the program offered lessons in the languages of Rodese, Huttese, and Bocce for those that volunteered as translators. Though he cared little for rank, Jaren would greatly enjoy the automatic promotion to Specialist which came with completion of the program.
In what seemed to him as only a few weeks, Jaren graduated from the Academy, passing with flying colors and without incident, despite some business about a night with a Hapan instructor. He was given two weeks leave, in which time he took to visit his parents and relax a bit before he was called to serve the Republic.
Nineteen-year-old Specialist Jare'Nabala was assigned to the Republic 4th Fleet with a fighter attachment on board an escort cruiser. Once he settled into the bunk that settled for his quarters, Jaren decided that he was well suited for the Navy Life.
He served aboard the same ship for six months, seeing no real action outside of translating Planetary Transmissions. He was in for a rude awakening a week after his twentieth birthday, when the 4th Fleet was sent to pursue an unusually large pirate strike fleet.
The fleets finally met, and engaged accordingly around the orbit of the world of Ord Mantell. The Republic had underestimated the Pirates' forces, and were momentarily overwhelmed with a barrage of concussion missiles and laser cannon fire. However, the fighters were eventually launched, Jaren's among them.
Jaren maneuvered his Aurek with expertise, despite his young age and inexperience. He avoided being hit throughout the beginning of the battle, and even brought down a few hostiles. The thrill he felt in his heart was intense, scoring his first true victory. It was only much later he realized that there were sentient beings in those cockpits, and that he and he alone had ended their lives.
As the battle progressed, the sheer firepower of the Republic forces overcame those of the Pirates, and the majority of the fleet was eradicated, with a few surrendering. However, there was a single gunboat that chose to go down in one last act of defiance by firing a volley of concussion missiles at a nearby fighter wing. That fighter wing turned out to be Jaren's. No amount of maneuvering could have saved the fighter as a projectile exploded at the aft of the craft.
So began a long downward spiral, until the craft entered the atmosphere of the planet. All the while, Jaren was doing his best to slow down the Aurek, but to no avail. It crashed in the middle of a plain, the impact nearly killing the Lethan Twi'lek inside.
Jaren awoke the next day parched, starving, and every inch of his being screaming in pain. He managed to remove him self from the wreckage, very aware of the fact that his survival was nothing short of a miracle. The pilot later discovered that his back had suffered a gaping wound, and that he had broken two ribs.
The red skinned pilot survived by salvaging what was left of his emergency rations and dressing the wound with his shirt. The emergency flare and the fighter's comm systems were both damaged in the crash, so Jaren had to sit there praying that someone would notice him there before the predators did.
His prayers were answered when a Planetary Security Airspeeder pilot noticed his fighter's wreckage in the field. Pilot found him lying down, very dehydrated and weak. The Fleet had lost several fighter pilot in the same attack Jaren suffered, so they had requested the local Law Enforcement to help them find corpses and survivors alike.
As one might imagine, Jaren, like any young man would, was traumatized quite heavily by the events of the battle. He was indeed a young man, at twenty. The wounded pilot spent the next two months in a Military Hospital on the same planet as his crash. The following six months were spent in recovery and preforming very light linguistic duties.
After he had recovered, Jaren returned to the full military life. To his immense displeasure, the Fleet Command reassigned him to supply runs and shuttle duties. A retired fighter pilot at the age of 21. The concept was incomprehensible to the young and adventurous Twi'lek. For this reason, he made no attempt to take another tour of duty once his expired.
As a result, Jaren was honorably discharged from the service. A total of three years of his life were spent in service to the Republic, something that would bring him a sort of silent pride, a kind that one never spoke of. He had also received formal linguistic and piloting training, and he reasoned that it would be easy to find a job with the experience he had.
Return to Ryloth
The Navy arranged for transport back to his homeworld, and Jaren obliged. For the first time in a while, he visited his parents, who were absolutely overjoyed and surprised with their son's return. Despite his continuous protests, his mother arranged a welcome home party for the young veteran.
In the months following the party, Jaren took on a few odd pilotting jobs to help his parents out. Then, he received his final payment from the Navy and he was back on his feet again. The pilot refused to live the life his father had, surviving on his flying ability, because he learned something in the months that he had done menial work here and there. It really sucked.
Deciding that the lifestyle wasn't for him, Jaren ventured to purchase his own freighter. He struck a deal with his father, just like old times, Jaren would help Astin with transporting various goods across the galaxy. The pair went on like this for the next year or so, until Jaren had accumulated enough capital to purchase his own light freighter.
The Lethan veteran purchased a small freighter, only capable of transporting light amounts of cargo. Immensely proud of his accomplishment, Jaren christened the ship as The Forlorn Adventure. This was all right and good to Jaren, until he realized that such small cargo capacity led to very little profit. At that point the young twi'lek made a decision that would forever change his life.
A life as a Smuggler
Jaren decided to become a smuggler. He was well qualified, adept with pistols, a hotshot pilot, and most importantly, rather charismatic. The money was absolutely exceptional compared to the mediocre wages he had managed only days earlier. In short, he was absolutely in love with the occupation, not to mention the booze, money, and women.
His first run was a shipment of military-grade weapons to a militia on Thyferra. The run went without incident, and the payout coupled with the thrill was a complete dealmaker to Jaren.
He went on running minor spice, weapons, and even VIPs all around the Outer and Mid Rims, occasionally venturing to the more developed regions near the Core. These adventures went on for a few years until Jaren was just over the age of 25. He had a considerable amount of credits, a good ship, and a stream of contacts and jobs to draw from.
Everything changed once a jealous conglomerate of smuggler czars noticed the unusual success of Jaren's smuggling operation. The group was immensely wealthy and powerful, so they had Jaren taken care of.
One night, Jaren was in a cantina on Commenor, blowing away some of the days earnings, when he met a beautiful Zelosian woman who simply captivated his interests for the night. One drink became six, and one thing led to another before the pair were back in the Adventure engaging in activities that only adults should.
The next morning, Jaren awoke in an alley with only a set of underwear, his blaster pistol, and the latter's holster. The red-skinned pilot was bristling with fury, especially once he found a small rolled up note inside his underwear with the message:
Jaren, hun you were great. But darling, don't go back in to smuggling, they're watching ya. Confused and angry, Jaren searched the entire spaceport for any trace of his beloved ship, but to no avail. Although not proud of what he did, Jaren was forced to entertain a Human woman name Cordulla.
This woman was ...impressed with Jaren's appearance and performance, and sympathized with him when he shared his story with her. She was an upper-class business woman who had been interested when she noticed Jaren roaming the streets in search of food. The woman payed him for his services, but also gave him extra credits to help the victimized Twi'lek back on his feet.
He used the healthy amount of funds to buy a few blaster power cells for his pistol, a couple sets of clothes, and a black pilot's jacket, as well as some provisions for the next several days.
Despite the generous woman's payment, Jaren was again broke, but was far better equipped this time around. He hit an obstacle once the twi'lek could find no freighters in need of pilots in the area. He was forced to take on mercenary work, taking on rather low risk jobs or taking advantage of a desperate cantina worker in need of a temporary bouncer. By doing this, he survived, and didn't have to lower himself to prostitution again. Eventually, a cargo freighter arrived near the place he was staying, and the captain agreed to pay him a small fee and allow him lodging aboard the ship until they arrived on Corellia.
It was in the Core Worlds that a new Jaren was born. This Jaren, still outwardly carefree and jolly, was different. The new Jaren was a grudging creature, loathing the mysterious group that had taken his beloved ship. He hunted for information everywhere, taking on piloting jobs to survive, and occasionally translating papers; all the while saving little by little.
Jaren, now in his late twenties, has been drifting from system to system piloting freighters for various captains or serving as a translator for more varied crews. The pilot searches for any scrap of information on a group of senior smugglers regulating the industry. He aspires to buy another ship, and become a smuggler once again, as it was one of the few jobs Jaren actually enjoyed.
RP Sample:
The pair of dice landed on the table and jumped about, performing their random dance. The patrons of the table all sat watching attentively, awaiting the decisive results. Finally, the first dice ceased spinning. 3. Then the second, 4.
Hell Yeah!
The energized exclamation came from the red lips of a Lethan twi’lek that as he deposited the dice , leaped out of his seat, and quickly grabbed up his winnings. Jaren Abala, more correctly Jare’Nabala, took a celebrative swig from his glass filled with Corellian rum.
That was wonderfully engaging game fellas, but regretfully I have to go. Sadly, I can’t deprive you of even more credits. To make it up to you, here’s a round on me.
Jaren said the words through an amused smile, interrupted by the occasional chuckle from his inner joker. Once he was quite finished with his gloating, he slapped down an appropriate amount of credits on the table and walked out of the cantina entrance, his unusual skin catching a few eyes as Raltiir’s sun caught the red hide.
The pilot made it about thirty feet from the cantina door when an enraged Devaronian emerged from the open door.
Hey Schutta! Those dice were loaded! Give me the winnings, and I may just forgive you!
The horned gambler yelled loudly, catching a few eyes. Jaren quickly scanned the area, and once he was content that there were no law enforcement agents around, he turned around the face the irate patron.
Dear friend, I can assure you, my intentions were strictly honorable, as were the stakes. I believe you lost your week’s wages fair and square. So, I’m afraid that there is no way in hell that I’m giving you a damn thing, save for a word of advice. Don’t mess with me.
Jaren said the words politely, yet casually as if talking to a recently met friend, dropping the guise near the end of his response.
The Devaronian drew some sort of exotic knife from his belt and began walking toward the twi’lek, muttering something about thief and liar. Jaren’s next action wasn’t as pronounced. The sound of metal against leather was heard as he drew the blaster pistol that rested in his belt holster and pointed it at the attacker’s chest.
He stopped dead in his tracks and stared wide eyed at his would-be victim who now held his entire future in his hands, or trigger finger rather. This always amazed Jaren, how simple ordinary people could decide the fate of others with such subtle actions.
Uhhh… s…sor-… sorry, just please don’t hurt me!
The apparently drunk gambler said, pleading for a shred of mercy from a man he would have killed seconds earlier.
Sell the knife, go home, and stop gambling. You suck at it, almost as much as using that weapon of yours. I’ll let you slide this time, but if you ever accuse me of cheating again, I’ll shoot you dead.
The twi’lek tried hard not to laugh, despite the fact that he very well could have just died or killed a man. The fact that the gambler would accuse him of cheating, rather it was true or not, quite humorous considering he had a blaster at his side. As he watched the rattled man run away into the distance, he could only chuckle as he felt the dice in his pocket.
Idiot.
