Konrad Heron
Detective Extraordinaire
Konrad T. Heron
| Age | Mid-Thirties |
| Species | Human |
| Gender | Male |
| Height | 1.93 m |
| Weight | 8.3 kg |
| Force Sensitive | Yes - Unaware |
KONRAD
TALON
HERON
WIP
Black hair, black eyes, a black soul and a cup of black coffee in one hand. An umber cigar on the other and umber leather-wrapped flask for holding spirits - to compensate for his lack thereof - on the inside pocket of his trench coat of the same hue. Which he always wears, for rain seems to follow him whenever he goes and, if that is not the reason why his unkempt hair always seems damp, then it must be due to his also umber fedora.
Konrad Talon Heron, of Corellian heritage and permanent residency, is a statuesque private investigator with his very own practice on Coronet City. Friends call him Heron, and so does everyone else.
Tell you what! I have some smooth jazz on that player over there, so why don't you get us some nice ambiance going, while I serve us a couple of drinks?
-
Ambiance I
There, take a seat. Make yourself at home.
I know this doesn't look like much but it's my own slice of heaven, this end of the Trade Spine.
So... you want to know about me? Hum... where to start?
Where to start, where to start?... You know those moons? My mother used to tell me she was named after one of them, and so was I. That was her maiden name, you see? And also from where I got my middle one.
Now, from my father, I only got the surname - which is more than I want from him. Though, if you were to believe my mother's stories, I also inherited his temper and bad habits.
I'm telling you this now, because that's the last you'll hear of it, and of them. So let's move along...
You know the saying, everyone in Corellia is either a pilot or an engineer? So, from a very young age, I've decided to be neither. There's plenty to do around here and I never felt the need to ever leave. My mother's illness had nothing to do with it, though it later added to my decision.
Ha! Here I go breaking my own rules again.
I moved around the Golden City, at times dazzled by its bright shimmer, at others wondering how it ever earned the name to begin with. I walked the line, you see? You had to, if you were from where I'm from.
But I've managed to climb myself out and to the top! Or... at least the top that you're allowed to climb to, if you're not already born above it, suckling from the golden breast of spaceship engineering! Ha! I guess that's where the name's from after all!
As I was saying, I bought my own digs, and my own office. They're both the same thing, but I make it work somehow. I also have my very own mortgage, so there's that.
How? I already told you. I walked the line. I started out as a cop, but here that's not much different than a mobster. We just all wore the same uniform and had a better union, you see?
And you had to play the game or the game would play you. Refuse to take a cut, and next thing you know you're wearing one of those shiny duracrete shoes on the bottom of the bay, if you catch my drift.
Sure, maybe not all of CorSec is corrupt to the marrow. But that's how things go, down by the 42nd. I'd tell you to pay them a visit and see for yourself, but you won't if you know what's good for your health.
Speaking of which, you don't mind if I smoke, do you? Pity, since I was only asking out of politeness.
You've surely heard of that major spice bust, a while back. Well, that was how.
But you know that already.
When you see your chance, you have to take it before the window closes. Leave the consequences for future you to deal with. CorSec was skimming from the top, y'know? We would make our busts, then stuff kept getting lost here and there among the chain of custody. But, if you know what to look for, you would be able to find them back on the streets.
In the end, we were just recycling the spice, like a great big effed up circle of life. Got us good with the city's officials, so the funds kept rolling in. Got us good with the pushers, and they would slice us a piece of the action. Got us good with the folks, since they knew we were off their backs... so long as they also played the game.
-
Ambiance II
I see that look! Just because I'm telling it like it is, doesn't mean I'm praising it. I don't give a womp's ass what you believe, I hated that druk since day one! I hated that even before I changed colors, when I was playing the game from the other side of the fence...
Said too much? Nah! You got nothing on me... Not on this town, at least. Not on my streets, you don't.
I did hate it, though! Having to pretend to swim with the rest of the school, while laboring to be one step ahead, lest you sink with the rest of them nerfherders. Always playing, always playing... And so I did! And I won, and I got out. Got out clean... so to speak.
The only way to break the chain, was to do it from within. As soon as I got the chance, I took it. A major bust. A legitimate one, that would raise several eyebrows if it got lost on its way to the evidence lockers. One that broadcasted my name throughout the HoloNet, made it household across Corellia. Then neither the law nor the syndicates could afford to just make me disappear, no questions asked. For questions would surely be asked.
And yes, I did what I learned, and skimmed off the top as well. All in the service of my city. Don't believe me? Now I can really help. Really make a difference. I have my own office, my own practice, and I get to pick my own clients and really help one side. The right side. Instead of being tied up from having to play them both.
And I earned some more from all the interviews and holobook deals and movie deals and docuseries deals and... well, you get the picture. Being a media rat yourself and all.
So that's it. The amazing origin story of the great Konrad, former CorSec officer number thirty-seven thirty-one. The once down-and-out Talon, who managed to buy his way out of the streets and into this nice studio apartment. Private Investigator extraordinaire Heron - the name's out front - at your service! Provided you got the credits...
A final remark? Some final words of wisdom to your viewers?...
The future always catches up! What that other guy did, the past version of me, has me playing a different kind of game.
So I guess that what I'm trying to say is, you got to know what game you're playing. Play your hand well, win at all costs... or you'll end up the one being played.
INVENTORY (and stuff)
I said this was a WIP
+ superb analytical mind
- deadly sharpshooter and also skilled in melee (weapon types TBA)
- Unbeknownst to him, his Force Sensitive plays a role on his gut feeling
- Addictive personality.
- Dislikes all things sea, air, and space travel
- For every friend, Heron can count three enemies