Star Wars - Better Days

Alright folks, here she is. Post the characters for the first 'episode' of my Star Wars campaign. Go go!

Name: Summer Merillo
Profession: Fugitive
Destiny:11 Force Points: 11
Medium Human Noble 7 / Force Adept 4
Init: +18; Perception: +18 (force)
Languages: Basic, Binary, High Galactic, Huttese
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Defenses: Fort +25 Ref +29 Will +30,
Hit Points: 29 +6d6 +4d8; Threshold 25
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Spd 6 squares (walking)
Melee Unarmed/Combat Gloves +12 2d8+6 (attuned, empowered)
Ranged Blaster Pistol +11 3d6+5
Base Attack +8; Grapple +8
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Abilities Str 11, Dex 16, Con 12, Int 13, Wis 16, Chr 16
Talents: Force Perception, Vision, Damage Reduction, Equilibrium, Attune Weapon, Empower Weapon
Feats: Linguist, Weapon Proficiency (Pistols, Simple), Skill Focus: Initiative, Skill Focus: Use the Force, Weapon Finesse, Force Sensitive (1), Martial Arts 1 (1), Martial Arts II (3), Force Training x2 (6, 9)
Skills: Deception +13, Gather Information +13, Initiative +18, Knowledge: Galactic Lore +11, Perception +13, Treat Injury +13, Use Computer +11, Use the Force +18

Force Powers: Battle Strike x2, Farseeing, Surge x2, Force Slam, Move Object, Mind Trick
Force Techniques: Force Point Recovery x2

Equipment: Combat Gloves, Blaster Pistol, Short range comlink, Datapad,
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Experience 55,000
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Height: 1.66 meters
Weight: 55.2 kg
Hair: Chestnut brown
Eyes: Dark brown

Appearance:

Summer is a beautiful girl just now coming into full bloom as a woman. She is gracefully built; tallish, slim and willowy. She wears her chestnut brown hair loose and straight; it hangs to just between her shoulder blades. Her face is smooth and pretty, with its elegant cheekbones softened by the last lingering hints of youthful roundness. Her eyes are dark and expressive, deep and wide and hurt. Lately her looks have been marred by the dark circles under them that come from night after night of poor sleep, and day after day of never knowing when what she's seeing is happening. She frequently reacts to things no one else can see, and has clearly been pushed right up to, possibly even a bit over, her emotional endurance by these strange...yet often accurate...visions of past, present, and future.

Background:

I heard someone scream when Alderan died. It took a few seconds to realize it was me. my head...like an arm that's been cut off. At night, I dreamed of it. Dreamed I was standing in the balcony of my father's palace, and seeing a great shadow in the sky. A terrible grey shape hung there, like another moon.

Then a flash. A sound like a million thunderbolts. The ground shook, and ripped open. Poison gasses and lava exploded out of the cracks, ripping them wider. The sky turned orange as it burned away. The pieces of Alderan burned as they were hurled out through the atmosphere, away from the exploding core. Nothing was left but seared rocks tumbling through space. No one was spared.

The Inquisitor found me in the hospital. He seemed to know what was happening to me, even though I didn't. He took me, bound me, put me in a dark, dank smelling shuttle. Then a dark, dank-smelling cell. Then I was alone. Alone in the dark. Everyone was dead. My family. My friends. There was no one I could call on.

No. There was one. My brother was somewhere out there. As soon as I thought of him, I realized he'd escaped. I could feel him like I could feel Alderan's absence. From my little cell in the prison on Coruscant, I tried to reach out to him. I didn't know until later if it had worked. It was a very hard time, because through it all I could feel the footsteps of the dark one coming up behind me. I never knew if that would be the day he arrived. Today? Tomorrow? No way to know.

But he came for me. My brother, I mean. He saved me.

Ever since all this started, nothing's been...clear for me. I know too many things, and they don't have places to go in my head, so they just kind of spin around and hit other things and knock them around...that's how it feels. It's never really under control. The only thing I know for sure is that when he took me from Coruscant, my brother gave up everything else for me. I'll find a way to make that up to him. Somehow, I'll find a way.

[sblock=Captain Varboy, Take 1]
James Varboy. LVL 11
Human Male Noble3/Soldier3/Scout1/Gunslinger4

stats: 34 points
STR 12 (+1) [4 points]
DEX 16 (+3) [6 points + 2 Lvl]
CON 10 (+0) [2 points]
INT 16 (+3) [10 points]
WIS 14 (+2) [6 points]
CHA 14 (+2) [6 points]

HP: 70 (18 Base+3d6+3d10+4d8)[Rolls=2,6,4,10,8,6,3,3,5,5. Search Varboy on InvisibleCastle]
Damage Threshold: 20

Initiative: +13
Defenses:
Fort: +16 (11 Level + 0 Con + 4 Class + 1 Feat)
Ref: +18 (11 Level +3 Dex + 2 Class + 1 Dodge + 1 Feat)
Will: +16 (11 Level +2 Wis + 2 Class + 1 Feat)

Damage Threshold:
BAB: 9 Melee: 10 Ranged: 12 Grapple: 14
Unarmed = +12, 1d4+6 damage
Pistol = + 12, 3d6+7 damage
Skills(11 Trained): Deception(+12), Endurance(+10), Gather Info(+12), Initiative(+13), Knowledge:Tactics(+12), Mechanics(+12), Perception(+12), Persuasion(+12), Pilot(+13), Use Computer(+12)

Feats[5]: Quick draw, Improved Defenses, Improved Damage Threshold, 2 more

Class Abilities/Bonus Feats:
Noble - Weapon Pro (Pistols, Simple), Linguist, W.Finesse
Scoundrel - Point Blank Shot
Soldier - Weapon Pro (Rifles), Precise Shot
Gunslinger - Trusty Sidearm (+2 damage pistol)
+5 damage from lvl

Talents:
Lineage: Educated, Spontaneous Skill
Remaining - 2 Gunslinger, 2 Soldier, 1 Scoundrel
Possible Talents:
Gambler(Fortune - Gunslinger/Scoundrel)
Acute Senses, Improved Initiative, Uncanny Dodge 1(Awareness - Gunslinger/Scout)
Battle Analysis, Draw Fire, Tough as Nails(Commando - Soldier)

Languages(8): Basic, Binary, Bocce, Huttese, Ryl, Shyriiwook, 2 more(Dosh, Rodese, or Sullustese?)
Force Points: 11
Destiny Points : 11

Equipment:
Blaster Pistol,
Hold-out Blaster Pistol

Descriptive:
Age: 34
Ht: 6'0 Wt: 170
Eyes: Green
Hair: Brown

Background:
James Varboy was born into a military family. His mother had been a member of the Correlian guard, and his father a soldier of the republic.While he wasn't a particularily staunch supporter, James did respect their military might and the order kept. During the final year of the clone wars, he snuck away from his parents to join the fight, joining with several others, including a strange droid. When the wars ended, he was ostracized from his family and had nothing but a hard-won ship and a droid friend. Feeling alone and a bit holier-than-thou, he named his ship the "Errant Knight", and proceeded to try making a decent living off of it... But the continuing rise of the Galactic Empire made that a pipe dream, and soon he was doing his best just to survive.
[/sblock]
More to come + Editing.

Larsshk

Medium Tandoshan Scout3/Soldier4/Bounty Hunter 1/Elite Trooper 3, CL11
Destiny 1; Force Points 11
Init +13; Improved Initiative; Perception +10; Darkvision, Acute Senses
Languages Basic, Trandoshan, Binary, Huttese
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Defense Reflex: 35 (flat-footed 30); Fortitude: 30; Will: 21
Hit Points: 68+2d8+5d10+3d12; DR 1; Threshold: 30
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Speed 4 squares
Base Attack Bonus +10, Grp +14
Melee combat glove +14 (1d8+10) or
Ranged Heavy Blaster Rifle +14 (3d10+7) or
Ranged Heavy Blaster Rifle +12 (4d10+7) (Rapid Shot)
Ranged Heavy Blaster Rifle +14 (3d10+7, -1 condition track) (Aim)
Atk Options Devastating Shot (Rifles), Hunter's Mark, Point-Blank Shot, Precise Shot, Rapid Shot
Special Abilities Delay Damage, Limb Regeneration, Shake it Off
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Abilities: Str 18, Dex 16, Con 16, Int 14, Wis 10, Cha 8
Talents: Acute Senses, Armored Defense, Devastating Shot (Rifles), Hunter's Mark, Improved Armored Defense, Improved Initiative, Weapon Specialization (Rifles)
Feats: Armor Proficiency (Light, Medium), Martial Arts I, Point-Blank Shot, Precise Shot, Rapid Shot, Shake it Off, Toughness, Wepaon Focus (Rifles), Weapon Proficiency (Advanced Melee Weapons, Pistols, Rifes, Simple Weapons)
Skills: Climb +14, Endurance +13, Initiative +13, Perception +10, Pilot +13, Stealth +13, Survival +10
Possessions: heavy Blaster rifle, battle armor, combat gloves, etc.
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Mercenary, bounty hunter, fairly nasty bit of work. If there's a heart of gold in there, he hides it very well. Owes a lifedebt to Varboy for reasons as yet unspecified.

Red Dunn
Ship's Steward
Destiny: Force Points: 10 Dark Side: 1
Medium Human Scoundrel 10/Soldier 1
Init +12; Perception +12
Languages: Basic, Binary, Bocce, Huttese, Durese
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Defenses: Fort +24 Ref +25 Will +24,
Hit Points: 39 +10d6 +d10; Threshold 24
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Spd 6 squares (walking)
Melee ?
Ranged ?
Base Attack +8; Grapple +10
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Abilities Str 8, Dex 14, Con 12, Int 18, Wis 14, Chr 16

Talents: Fool's Luck, Fortune's Favor, Disruptive, Walk The Line, Hyperdriven, Demolitionist

Feats: Weapon Proficiency (Pistols, Simple, Heavy Weapons), Armor Proficiency (Light), Point Blank Shot, Skill Training (Mechanics, Initiative, Gather Information, Deception, Stealth), Skill Focus (Technology, Bureacracy), Vehicular Combat

Skills: Deception +13, Gather Information +13, Knowledge (Bureaucracy) +19, Knowledge (Galactic Lore) +14, Knowledge (Physical Sciences) +14, Knowledge (Social Sciences) +14, Knowledge (Technology) +19, Initiative +12, Mechanics +14, Perception +12, Persuasion +13, Pilot +12, Stealth +12, Use Computer +14

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Experience 55,000
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Height: 1.65 meters
Weight: 68.2 kg
Hair: Red
Eyes: Blue

Appearance: You'd think that first thing people would notice about Red Dunn would be the wild, unkempt red hair. Maybe in better days this would have been true. No, these days what people notice about Red is the moustache, sweeping in an enormous, masculine arc across his face, drooping gracefully down to his jawline...it is the sort of moustache that draws every eye of every sentient in the bar when he enters. It is the king of facial hair.

For the rest of him, Red is a little shorter than average, with a slight softness around the middle that he wears with easy grace. He tends to wear, or not wear (which the rest of the crew finds imminently disturbing), the loosest, brightest clothes available. All of his clothes are normally spotted with food stains and evidence of the bizarre places on ship he finds to do his reading, and his only other adornments are several hideous hoop earrings he has plugged into his ears.

Background:

At one time Red Dunn affected the slicked-back hair and demeanor of one of the Empire's finest - the Imperial Assessors. Moving from world to world, Red's team of crack auditors were the terror of civilians and military generals alike. Picking their assignments more or less without outside influence, IA agents like Red had a remarkable amount of latitude in what penalties they were allowed to levee and, in Red's case, a truly memorable amount of corruption available for purchase by well-connected buyers.

Unfortunately for Red, he'd also racked up an impressive reputation with his superiors with his expertise in technological issues. His constant visits to cutting-edge manufacturing plants and design offices meant that he was one of the Empire's foremost experts in space technologies, which drew him to the attention of Moff Tarkin for a certain ... pet project. Red was transferred.

Auditing the Death Star...wasn't as pleasant as his former duties. Sure, he got to join the elite ranks of the Imperial Stormtroopers; but strangely enough he found that white really didn't do much for his complexion. Furthermore, Stormtroopers and the other imperial officers on the Death Star had completely unreasonable expectations about what their equipment should be able to do and what Red should be able to do about it. Schedule variances were a fact of life, even in the Imperial Auditors, but Moff Tarkin and Lord Vader really disconnected from reality once they stepped onto their giant Ego Moon.

Still, Red managed to keep the various contractors and product schedules more or less running on time - even if he did have to cut some corners in providing covers for exhaust ports for the thermal core. More fortunate still, Red managed to do so without running afoul of the sharp tempers of his superiors and (most of) the temptations of boredom presented with being a highly creative "people-person" stuck in the most stuck up installation in the history of the galaxy. Moff Tarkin might claim credit, but it's thanks to proud folks like Red Dunn that the rebellion got to destroy the Death Star.

Which, as a matter of fact, is a fate that Red almost shared himself. Leaving on the last shuttle that left the doomed space installation, Red was watching on his viewscreens from a safe distance as waves of rebel fighters swooped in on his bunkmates and destroyed the Death Star. Red had an epiphany.

Disabling the droids and crash-landing the shuttle wasn't all that hard, and neither was fixing it so that the downed shuttle appeared to have been destroyed by Rebel fire. Finding a way off-planet? Setting up a new identity which had nothing to with his former life? Growing his moustache? These things are hard.

All in all, Red's done pretty well for himself in his new life. The Empire thinks he's dead, he's found himself a position as a starship which keeps folks who might one day come looking for him looking in several spots, and the people he works with these days aren't nearly as uptight as Stormtroopers for the most part.

Notes: Despite being transferred to the Stormtroopers, this was mostly a convenience to force Dunn to follow certain military directives and keep other IA agents from nosing around in military business. Dunn was awarded the Imperial Starburst for Excellency in Auditing, twice. Red once did a shot when a man looked at him funny. On the surface of a black hole, Red Dunn has infinite mass. Despite his "Steward" designation, Red's position in the crew is mostly because he's intimately aware of the ins and outs of the Imperial bureaucracy and because he can often nominally fill in for important positions on the ship when needed...plus, Red's knowledge of Imperial science and technology is vast (and he's capable of making it sound even MORE impressive if need be.)

Here is our droid/pilot...

[sblock="Ace"]
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Description:

Ace is a tall, regal looking droid with a spherical motive wheel at the narrow base end. He is navy blue with silver-grey trim and wears a blue trifoil hat with a large irredescent feather plume on it that would make a musketeer proud.

His protcol circuits keep him generally polite as well as non-agressive. Unless someone makes a move first, or proves themselves a dangerous vagabond, in which case Ace is known to be quite decisive with either his own personal 'cannon', or the Knight Errant's guns.

Backgound:

Whether Ace got his nick name from his love of flying or his gambling skills is not something he has ever clarified, or at least not consistantly anyway. With his semi-french accent, jaunty style and high roller habits ace travels the galaxy looking for exciting things to fly, do, or wager on. Needless to say he finds trouble more often than not. . . Thankfully he is rather good at getting out of it too, which helps explain his rather extensive abilites at fleeing the scene. As well as his preference for really, really big friggin' fight-ending guns.

A much younger Ace was down on his usually good luck and stuck between jobs to boot. He found himself inadvertantly tied up in 'the rebellion' while gambling with some Imperials. He was begining to win so the imperials decided he was cheating, because droids simply can't beat humans. So, one Imp excused himself from the game to use the little Emporer's room, but in actuality he went and got an ion rifle and potted Ace in the head from behind. If it wasn't for James Varboy rescuing him, he would have surely been in deep trouble...

Since then Ace has stuck by the captain and indeed they have become good friends on many adventures. Ace was even integral to how they got the Knight Errant, although he won't tell the story, "Saying that is for the Captain to tell or not.", if anyone asks.

Ace actually has a fairly large stash of credits he has collected from gambling but he makes a point not to advertise the extent of that windfall. Prefering for the whole crew to make it without the crutch of a 'suga droidy', and gaining the respect self success generates. Besides, its more exciting that way! And he would not want to undercut his friend's leadership.

[sblock=background]Ikluk wasn't born in Mon Calamari, his family emigrated from there nine generations ago and stablished at the galactic core, where traditionally have worked as engineers and mechanics. Ikluk wasn't different, and when still very young he worked on the maintenance of starships, war machines and any other equipment for the clone troopers in the Clone Wars. Despite his talent at crafting and repairing the unorthodox nature of his work, which he sees as a form of art, and the mistrust against aliens in general following the rise of the empire conspired to leave him unemployed and far from a home that now considered him a second class citizen. Since then he's been hiring himself to whoever could offer him enough money and opportunities to use his craft.[/sblock]