Aeron Zambrano
The First
NAME | Lathe Iobik
FACTION | Unaligned
RANK | Neutral Apprentice
SPECIES | Twi'lek
AGE | 17
GENDER | Female
HEIGHT | 5’ 9”
WEIGHT | 140 lbs
EYES | Light Purple
SKIN | Light Purple, red-purple markings
FORCE SENSITIVE | Yes
STRENGTHS
Agile: Lathe is graceful and assured like many of her kind. It may be half the reason she survived a childhood in the New City. Being able to outmaneuver less lithe assailants often got her out of a situation before it had the chance to truly began.
I Can Fix That: Through natural predilection, or some supernatural instinct, Lathe was drawn to tech from the moment she could hold the tools to fix or change it. This was a skill that served her well, making her valuable to the New City’s criminal underworld in manners less harsh than many of her urchin brethren. Lathe can slap together a Galven pattern and a heat radiator shroud and make you a microwave. But most useful? Her ability to make crime bosses tech their opponents would have no way to counter. Ask her about her improvements on sensor mesh. But only if you’ve got five hours for the explanation.
WEAKNESSES
I Can’t Show You The World - Two problems. One, Lathe didn’t see the sky until she was 17. She knew it existed but living 300+ floors down in a city within a volcano doesn’t give one many chances to stargaze. Her shock at the size of the galaxy isn’t a problem as much anymore but...she still can’t fly a ship to save her life. She can fix it, rig it, make technical improvements. But somewhere along the line she seemed to pass the point of no return where driving lessons were concerned. So, no traveling or escaping for this lady unless there's someone to help her.
Call Me Naive - Though Lathe is well-versed in nearly every culture one might encounter due to living in the New City, she's still not entirely sure how the world outside it works. She'll catch you out in a second if you're trying to scam her, but the intricacies of daily life outside the alien microcosm of her birthplace? Foreign, and troublesome.
BIO
Born on Level 378 of Maena’s New City, Lathe was no stranger to a grind - a life filled with work from the minute she opened her eyes in the morning, to the minute she closed them when she fell exhausted in to her bed. Even the bed itself was a task to be figured out, constantly replanned. She’d had a Mother once. She couldn’t remember the exact details, why her Father said her Mom went away. But Lathe had to ‘go away’ too, and like so many others her age in a city where younger children were a burden, she’d been given to someone paid enough credits to take her to some other level, far enough away that for a young girl it would be impossible to figure her way home.
And so home became anywhere.
The prospects for young Twi’lek girls in a place like the New City were better left unsaid. Lathe got good at sleeping with one eye open, waiting for someone to find her spot curled up with a ratty blanket under an innocuous camoflauge of cardboard boxes and sell her off to a slave ring. She cultivated other skills, natural skills: outlaw tech. It started off small. Responding to holoads looking for someone to fix a broken appliance cheap, speeder repairs, that kind of thing. And then people in the Sector started taking notice. She was taken on in a shop, repairing things brought to her instead of having to seek out work.
And then came the criminals. Small, small things at first. Make this tech do something else. Make something pretty simple but never before seen.
Word spread like a fire in a Maenan tenement, and soon she got fired because of the...kind of people who were trying to get in touch with her. But if anything that improved her prospects. Those well-connected could find her no problem, and the things they wanted? They’d make any engineer drool. The work was FUN: mini neutron bombs, obsidian crystal sheathes timed perfectly, sensor mesh that drew credit and banking information without so much as a blink and completely undetected. And above all else? It paid more credits than Lathe thought she’d ever see in her entire lifetime. The moral implications of her creations, the destruction and suffering they might cause, didn’t cause her to lose sleep. It meant sleeping soundly, surrounded by four walls with a stomach that wasn’t completely empty.
Now she works for Keruli, a Besalisk who’s willing to overlook her dubious contracts as long as he gets a small cut plus her work in his shop. And so life goes.
FACTION | Unaligned
RANK | Neutral Apprentice
SPECIES | Twi'lek
AGE | 17
GENDER | Female
HEIGHT | 5’ 9”
WEIGHT | 140 lbs
EYES | Light Purple
SKIN | Light Purple, red-purple markings
FORCE SENSITIVE | Yes
STRENGTHS
Agile: Lathe is graceful and assured like many of her kind. It may be half the reason she survived a childhood in the New City. Being able to outmaneuver less lithe assailants often got her out of a situation before it had the chance to truly began.
I Can Fix That: Through natural predilection, or some supernatural instinct, Lathe was drawn to tech from the moment she could hold the tools to fix or change it. This was a skill that served her well, making her valuable to the New City’s criminal underworld in manners less harsh than many of her urchin brethren. Lathe can slap together a Galven pattern and a heat radiator shroud and make you a microwave. But most useful? Her ability to make crime bosses tech their opponents would have no way to counter. Ask her about her improvements on sensor mesh. But only if you’ve got five hours for the explanation.
WEAKNESSES
I Can’t Show You The World - Two problems. One, Lathe didn’t see the sky until she was 17. She knew it existed but living 300+ floors down in a city within a volcano doesn’t give one many chances to stargaze. Her shock at the size of the galaxy isn’t a problem as much anymore but...she still can’t fly a ship to save her life. She can fix it, rig it, make technical improvements. But somewhere along the line she seemed to pass the point of no return where driving lessons were concerned. So, no traveling or escaping for this lady unless there's someone to help her.
Call Me Naive - Though Lathe is well-versed in nearly every culture one might encounter due to living in the New City, she's still not entirely sure how the world outside it works. She'll catch you out in a second if you're trying to scam her, but the intricacies of daily life outside the alien microcosm of her birthplace? Foreign, and troublesome.
BIO
Born on Level 378 of Maena’s New City, Lathe was no stranger to a grind - a life filled with work from the minute she opened her eyes in the morning, to the minute she closed them when she fell exhausted in to her bed. Even the bed itself was a task to be figured out, constantly replanned. She’d had a Mother once. She couldn’t remember the exact details, why her Father said her Mom went away. But Lathe had to ‘go away’ too, and like so many others her age in a city where younger children were a burden, she’d been given to someone paid enough credits to take her to some other level, far enough away that for a young girl it would be impossible to figure her way home.
And so home became anywhere.
The prospects for young Twi’lek girls in a place like the New City were better left unsaid. Lathe got good at sleeping with one eye open, waiting for someone to find her spot curled up with a ratty blanket under an innocuous camoflauge of cardboard boxes and sell her off to a slave ring. She cultivated other skills, natural skills: outlaw tech. It started off small. Responding to holoads looking for someone to fix a broken appliance cheap, speeder repairs, that kind of thing. And then people in the Sector started taking notice. She was taken on in a shop, repairing things brought to her instead of having to seek out work.
And then came the criminals. Small, small things at first. Make this tech do something else. Make something pretty simple but never before seen.
Word spread like a fire in a Maenan tenement, and soon she got fired because of the...kind of people who were trying to get in touch with her. But if anything that improved her prospects. Those well-connected could find her no problem, and the things they wanted? They’d make any engineer drool. The work was FUN: mini neutron bombs, obsidian crystal sheathes timed perfectly, sensor mesh that drew credit and banking information without so much as a blink and completely undetected. And above all else? It paid more credits than Lathe thought she’d ever see in her entire lifetime. The moral implications of her creations, the destruction and suffering they might cause, didn’t cause her to lose sleep. It meant sleeping soundly, surrounded by four walls with a stomach that wasn’t completely empty.
Now she works for Keruli, a Besalisk who’s willing to overlook her dubious contracts as long as he gets a small cut plus her work in his shop. And so life goes.