Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Ryloss Narexsus

zeltron__2__by_ush3100-d6bvkon.jpg


NOTE: Eye attachments have since been removed.

NAME: Ryloss Narexsus
FACTION: 'The dominion of me', in his words. N/A

RANK: N/A
SPECIES: Zeltron
AGE: 22
GENDER: Male
HEIGHT: 5"11
WEIGHT: 92KGs
EYES: Pale blue
HAIR: Dark brown, near black.
SKIN: Light red, near pink.
FORCE SENSITIVE: Very weak connection, is unaware.

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STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES (Required: 2 Weaknesses Minimum) :
STRENGTHS:

Decent pilot
Good shot with a blaster
Natural Zeltron hardiness and pheromones.

Weaknesses:
Too trusting
Falls for a pretty face way too quickly.

SHIP:
MC-18.jpg

MC-18 light freighter with 'standard' smuggling upgrades. (hollow floors for storing cargo and all that.)

BIOGRAPHY:
Ryloss was born into a wealthy family who owned a casino on the Hologram Fun World, a Zeltron created theme park attached to no planet. As a youth, his days were carefree. His parents doted over their only child, spoiling him somewhat. The casino, which he was only allowed in during the 'daytime' hours gave him a healthy knowledge of the galaxy. The majority of the people he met claimed to be star fighter pilots and smugglers, and as such, this was what he wanted to be when he grew up.
When he turned 8, things began to get a little tight at the casino. Because most of the tables and such were holographic, they needed a lot of money to operate. This meant the casino needed a lot of money to actually function. His eighth year was the second year the casino didn't pull in enough to make a profit. His father was forced to sell, and the family moved to Zeltros.
Not that it was any fun, that. His father took to drinking. Usually on Zeltros, this means he gets lost in the crowd and comes home every week wondering how he ended up where he did. But not when he did it at home, not when he was doing it to forget.
Soon, Ryloss came to fear his father's hand.
So he took to the streets. And he listened.
He heard tales even wilder that the ones in the casino. Drink made men talk, made them tell stories they swore not to tell.
Ryloss struck up a deal with an information broker. He would monitor a Sabacc table that the woman had in a small apartment and record every detail that he heard, no matter how far-fetched. Even lies held power.
So he did. He got well paid for it too. And he learned, secrets that people had paid money to bury, tales implicating even the most officials. He kept some of this hidden, put away for a later date. And by any gods that may exist, did it pay off.
He was fifteen and he had to get away from his parents. He had to get away from the planet. He was given his chance one day, one of the few that there wasn't a celebration happening.
A man, human, about forty, stumbled in, a carafel on one arm and a drink of something that he would sincerely regret the next morning in the other. He sat at the table and roared to be called in. He was a big man, and Ryloss could see that he was well traveled, so he did. Immediately, he could see he'd made the right choice. The man was actually half-human, half-Nagai. He came from a Corellian family but had later integrated back into Nagai society. That was a bad mix, Ryloss could tell even then.
'Never tell a Corellian the odds'. That was so deep into their mental mixture that it was almost genetic. There were Corellians that didn't care about a reward, the game, the hunt, the chase... If they won, that was enough.
And Nagai were as honor-bound as the Mandolorians. A dangerous mix, but given training that could be well executed. And this man had been trained. He had been trained to kill.
He got talking almost immediately. But not in basic, in Bocce. This obviously irritated some other patrons, but it gave Ryloss a distinct advantage. He could speak Bocce as well as Basic.
He learned that the man had been hired to kill a politician, but he'd failed and was spending the last of his credits getting incredibly drunk before he was punished. Ryloss asked for details carefully. He got the name, he got the exact details, he even got contact numbers for all parties involved. The man then asked Ryloss to tell the politician about what had happened so he could rest easy, knowing he would get vengeance in some form. Ryloss agreed. As payment, the man left him a blaster. No, that's not right. He left him a slug thrower. The 48. caliber Enforcer. Usually only carried by the near-extinct Morellians, the weapon was extremely deadly in the right (or wrong) hands. The man gave the carafel the rest of his credits and stumbled out onto the street. The woman went to followe him but Ryloss held her back. And with good reason. He was shot to death not twenty strides down the alley, and he body was taken a moment later. Ryloss apologized to the carafel, who hadn't seen any of this, and let her be on her way.
He went to the politician as soon as he could. He was well rewarded, too. He was given ownership of his own vessel, to become effective when he turned sixteen.
So two months later, he left home and took off to the stars.

He began to work as a smuggler... Well, mostly by accident, actually. He was given a box and told to take it to Socorro, and for the sake of his life don't get caught doing it. He did so, and was given five thousand credits as a reward. That was a helluva lot to him, and he immediately spent half on fuel to keep going and half on ammo for his gun, which was an expensive little thing to use.
He ran his first open smuggling run three months later, transporting a small shipment of weapons for the Hutts. And he did it again, and again, and again.
Soon, he renovated his ship to handle smuggling work almost exclusively.
He was asked to smuggle a boy at one point. He didn't ask why, he could just feel the terror coming off of the parents and the child. He refused payment.
If only he knew the trouble he would have to go through...
He was to take the child from Manaan to Curoscant. Easy enough job, he thought. He stopped by Caamas to refuel. As he took off, three small fighters attacked his ship. He barely escaped and went straight to Curoscant. After this, he swore not to transport people because he could hardly dump that particular cargo.
So, at seventeen years of age, he ended up working for two smuggling rings on Socorro and Nar Shadaa. This route was so popular he made a living off it for years, until pirates copped it that the MC-18 class usually had something valuable inside. He lost three shipments before abandoning the route.

Now, he does any piece of work that isn't fatal at first glance. This is surprisingly little, in his experience, and even then it usually leaves out some crucial piece of information in the original deal. For example, he was once asked to bring a shipment of weapons from Curoscant to Nal Hutta. What he didn't get told? They were taken from the Republic. He dumped the crates in the nearest sun and hightailed it back to Curoscant to kill the man, but ended up just taken him to the closest bounty office and taking that reward. The only time he ever, ever did bounty work. He doesn't have a permanent home, instead just lodging in planets that he knows will supply him with work when needed.
KILLS:
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BOUNTIES COLLECTED:
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ROLE-PLAYS:
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