Just thought it would be fun to see what everyone's favorite character (pc) has been thus far.

I, myself, am particularly enamoured with my protocol droid 3BRT (Ebert to his friends), he is a friendly, positive, non-violent droid that is highly cerebral (if you can call it that.)

He is a know-it-all, wise ass and extremely analitical which comes in handy since he is in fact an Analyst by trade.

He is highly knowledgeable and carries around many field manuals, exo encyclopedia , planet guides and datapads in a casing in his chest. Forgoing carrying a weapon over helping out his friends and allies from a safe distance with all manner of information on their foe, handing out boosts, advantage and the occasional triumph as an encounter continues. His collar amp really makes him able to get out of harms way early and yell out advice while flipping through datapads and manuals in order to provide that tidbit of knowledge that pushes the odds in the parties favor.

He is painted in matt black and is prone to writing on his own body with a crayon in order to show his companions where their tactics worked and/or failed, sort of like a sort of sports coach, much to the others' chagrin.

At special occasions Ebert feels it is best to show up fancy and exude an air of regalty which basically translates into him putting on a bowtie...

His future forray will be into propagandist making him a true journalist and critic much like his namesake Roger Ebert was.

He's "an analist by trade"...? As in "someone who specializes in anal"...?

And then drawing on his body with crayon to show his mates what works and what doesn't?

Hahaha!

That cannot be right.

(I'm assuming you really mean "analyst?")

Yep, language barrier... I will edit.

My favorite PC character from my last collection of campaigns was a rather stereotypical Toydarian called Batto, played by the store owner of my local FLGS. He was a Toydarian Explorer - Trader, with a buy into Entrepreneur and quatermaster. He was an expert at getting a hold of pretty much anything, which led to a lot of jokes about how "his cousin knows the ex-husband of a cleaner who now is in the employ of the Empire who's father once owned a gun shop on Tatooine." given the many ranks of "Know Somebody" he managed to acquire.

He was greedy but not without a heart of foresight in many things, this group did eventually acquire the famed Jewel of Yavin, but lost it when someone the pilot of the group owed Obligation to wanted it in return for cutting them loose (although they knew he wouldn't) so their solution, much to Battos horror was to place the Jewel in a case packed with explosives and blow their contact and the Jewel to kingdom come.

After the bounty hunter of the group assumed the identity of the sheriff of a little backwater town, Batto decided it was time to run for office, somewhere I know there is a sketched up "Vote for Prosperity, Vote for Batto" in that store. This was wise given how the sheriff was the closest thing to an official and leader the town had, but when the bounty hunter took over, he had no idea how to run a town.

I decided to use a well timed double despair on a very basic social check once to do something a bit more interesting, which was introducing Batto's mother into the equation, wanting to spend her waning years in this little town she heard her son was starting up in. That certainly introduced many comical conversations, such as the time the Bounty Hunter wanted to hit this elderly Toydarian up for a loan (she was particularly loaded) and the deal was he would get the money for his precious Firespray, if he married her daughter, one of Batto's sisters, to which the Bounty Hunter performed a well timed "I'm sorry..crackle, your signal is...ffffff" and later lead to an argument between him and Batto about how his sister was a lovely girl.

It may not sound like much of an interesting character, but he was the most entertaining out of the entire party for me.

This year I am looking forward to one of the characters in the squadron campaign who we just rolled up yesterday, the player has essentially created two characters, although their stats are perfectly copied, just background, motivations, duty and all that are different, the fluff if you will. One character is an Imperial Spy who is working directly under Ysanne Isard to report back and sabotage the operations performed by Rakghoul Squadron, the other character he created is his cover identity, complete with a full background for the cover, the idea being that no one in the party knows anything about this, last night he performed his first dead drop:

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Love that Toydarian!

The whole "money talent mix" just screams fun at me in some way...

He's "an analist by trade"...? As in "someone who specializes in anal"...?

And then drawing on his body with crayon to show his mates what works and what doesn't?

Hahaha!

That cannot be right.

(I'm assuming you really mean "analyst?")

You know, that's exactly the same joke our protocol droid used on our Analyst Diplomat recently... She wasn't amused.

Anyway... all my players are awesome, so it's hard to pick one character out of the groups I GM for. Some are sympathetic, some are cool, others are played well or have great concepts. The player who plays our tech droid used to be a mime and can do the robotic movements and voice at the table; it's amazing to watch.

For cool backstory, I like our bounty hunter, Kandria Valouri. It's a good example of the player concocting a backstory based around the specifics of our game:

“One look at her tells you what she’s about… The tousled, flaming hair, the battle-scarred armour, the heavy blaster rifle with the kill marks on the side. The flinty look in her eyes tells you she’s going to be as much trouble as a pit full of rancors… A tough-as-nails bounty hunter who’d haul her own mother to the Hutts for enough credits.

It’s a powerful image, aye? It’s just a pity it’s not true.”

On the outside, the woman who calls herself ‘Corellia Red’ is the picture of the tough, ruthless bounty hunter. With her personally-modified armour and battle rifle, a list of ‘acquisitions’ as long as her arm, and a reputation as deadly and unrelenting, she sails the oceans of space in her souped-up crimson Firespray, hunting miscreants to the ends of the galaxy. She doesn’t seem to care who she works for, as long as the credits are good, and she always delivers on a contract. It is a reputation she has built up over the last few years, and she is renowned as the bounty hunter to hire if you really need the job done, regardless of cost.

Unfortunately, while the reputation is real, the woman beneath the legend is not. She’s not even Corellian, she’s a human from Fondor, taken to the rebel base on the moon of Nallastia at a young age by the pre-Exodus Jedi. The girl – an ordinary human child from the shipyards – showed great potential for the Force, and was left in the care of the Alliance when the Sith and Jedi left for the outer reaches of the galaxy following Palpatine’s death. She was one of the first to be enrolled into the ‘Emergent Project’, trained as a front-line shock trooper with heavy weapons and armour and Force powers.

Only she knows what actually happened on Nallastia, but the woman who now calls herself ‘Corellia Red’ does not speak of it, though it haunts her dreams. For whatever reason, she reacted badly to the training, and she fled the Alliance in terror, fearful of what she had unleashed. The event ‘burned out’ her budding Force sensitivity, and she has been unable to access her powers since that day… even if she wished to. In truth, she fears she is ‘possessed’ and terrible demons manifest within her, awaiting release…

A lesser mind might have been destroyed by the guilt and betrayal, but she focused her efforts outwards. She had excelled at the heavy armour and weapons training, and had no wish to join a regular military, so she signed up with the Bounty Hunter’s Guild, swiftly earning her accreditation and developing a reputation as a dangerous huntress. Ashamed and afraid of her own past, she invented a whole background for herself, claiming to be ‘Corellia Red’, a near-human from the city of Tyrena, Sometimes Valouri even believes this to be the truth, lost in her own fantasy in an effort to escape the guilt and the blood on her hands.

While she is proud of the reputation she has earned as a bounty hunter, deep down she fears the truth being known – that her past is a treacherous thing, a half-remembered skein of shattered memories and non-sequiturs. She is afraid that the Alliance will find her, to either bury her or – worse- drag her back to be an operative. Above all, she is afraid that the monsters she knows live inside of her will one day escape and wreak havoc… Until that day, she masks her insecurities and primal terrors with a tough outer persona, a no-nonsense professionalism that keeps others at a distance.

I have a short attention span I guess, so more often then not my favorite character is whichever one I'm playing at the time.

We just started a new campaign last weekend. I'm GMing at the moment, but we swap GM's between story arcs. I'm really looking forward to playing my new Jedi Shadow. She's a Cathar (from the unofficial species menagerie). A character who's grown up in the streets of lower Nar Shaddaa, and has never even seen a plant or the sky or any animal bigger then a small rodent. She's almost semi-feral and has been unconsciously using the force to hide herself from the gangs and other dangers of Lower Nar Shaddaa. She will freely use her claws to rip somebodies face off, and happily munch on rodents or other live catches. She also carries a pair of pliers around so she can pull a tooth from each of her kills as a momento (a habit she picked up from her best friend a Togruta.)

She'll have some issues battling dark side urges early on, and I'm hoping to have sort of a redemption story.

I don't think I've ever played a droid character. I'm going to need to do that one of these days.

For humor, my favourite character so far is LE-R0Y-G1-BV, an LE-series repair droid, with a personality that is a cross between C-3P0 and Kryten (from Red Dwarf). I’ve talked a bit about him on this forum, so you can read up elsewhere on what has led to his current state of droid psychosis, but he’s still pretty fun to play.

I’ve recently introduced an other LE-series repair droid into this new campaign we’re running (named LE-0N-4RD), and he has a similar personality to where LE-R0Y started out. We’ll see how that shapes up.

Outside of the humor aspect, my favourite character was my Wookiee Maurauder/Heavy/Doctor/Force-Sensitive Exile. He loved to rip the arms off of things, and generally be a seriously badass melee tank.

For humor, my favourite character so far is LE-R0Y-G1-BV, an LE-series repair droid, with a personality that is a cross between C-3P0 and Kryten (from Red Dwarf). I’ve talked a bit about him on this forum, so you can read up elsewhere on what has led to his current state of droid psychosis, but he’s still pretty fun to play.

I’ve recently introduced an other LE-series repair droid into this new campaign we’re running (named LE-0N-4RD), and he has a similar personality to where LE-R0Y started out. We’ll see how that shapes up.

Outside of the humor aspect, my favourite character was my Wookiee Maurauder/Heavy/Doctor/Force-Sensitive Exile. He loved to rip the arms off of things, and generally be a seriously badass melee tank.

I love Red Dwarf, one of my favorite shows. One of my favorite characters of all time was a Were-Panther from the Rifts setting. I played him exactly like Cat lol...

Honestly picking one favorite would be a nightmare for me because I've had and loved so many of my characters and had many of them across multiple campaigns or in very long campaigns.

Many of my favorites though have strong engineering and ship design skill bases with many of them also being naval officers, or becoming naval officers over time often having fighter pilot experience, and in some cases being privateers or free traders.

Hmm, I don't really have enough play time under my belt for a favorite in this system but for Star Wars in general I can go back about a decade to a group that refused to give up on WEG's D6 system. I ran into a college buddy who was running a game for the younger guys he met while managing a Chuck E Cheese t get through grad school. After I sold him a dishwasher he invited me to join their game. It was pretty well established, so he said "dig out your books and make a starting character, then add X amount of experience." I didn't want to be a Jedi or a combat monster or another Han Solo knockoff, and I didn't really want to just take a template and add bonuses. I started from scratch and made the character whose name I use on the forum: Andres Vorstal. The name was a throwback to the first time I ever played D6 SW years previous (when I DID play a Solo knockoff) but I decided this guy wasn't the smooth Corellian smuggler, but his washed up Brentaalian cousin who tried to play it by the books in his career as a customs inspector and ended up framed for the illegal activities of his superior officer. He slipped out of custody and skipped planet in a slighted modded YT-2000 he "liberated" from the impound lot and ended up rescuing the original group.

During the first session I sat quietly until our characters met, and then dove into character, using a (very sketchy) South African accent (think Thomas Jane's role in Stander, it also influenced the name choice) because I thought it would sound cool for the character. By the end of the night the fact that I had a wide variety of skills (despite the fact that I wasn't super-good at any of them) had saved all our butts and I'd been welcomed into the group. When I said thanks and goodnight in my normal voice a few players were actually surprised. I had a lot of fun playing that character, and the other players enjoyed it too. I made the decision a night or 2 before that session to add the accent after watching "Stander" for the first time (and then watching it twice more that night) and I figured if I was going to use an accent while in character I should just go all the way and stay in character as much as I could during the session. That style of play was extra challenging for me, but it gave me a sense of freedom to just go for it and have fun in a way I hadn't had in a while.

In a group right now with about 745 earned exp. The time period is about 6 ABY. Got inspired by TCW episodes with the Jedi Generals standing on the bridge over looking the battlefield like a giant game of Risk. So I decided to make a Togruta Makashi Duelist, Seer, Peacekeeper. Took Battle Meditation and the Foresee Force Powers.

Her background is:

A Padawan during the Clone Wars, she was 14 when she barely escaped the Great Jedi Purge in 19 BBY. Members of the Altisian Jedi (a splinter faction of the Jedi Order) smuggled her off Kamino before the Empire destroyed it and hide her on Mandalore. There, under the care and protection of the local populace, she continued her training with the help of an Altisian Jedi Master. Though not born on Mandalore, she would grow to have a strong sense of connection and belonging to its people. Later, after becoming a Jedi, she would help fight the Empire's Occupation of Mandalore; eventually joining the elite ranks of the Mandalorian Protectors.

I'm a GM for a multi-GM campaign that got started back in September 2014. In September 2015, a plan I put into motion 7 months prior, both in-game and IRL, finally came to fruition. In those months, when I wasn’t GM'ing, I was playing a Spy named Rogesh Vai (Infiltrator, Recruit, Performer). Both he and another PC were captured by the Empire leading to a big rescue mission.

In that mission, Rogesh revealed his true colors, leading to the capture of all 12 PCs (we sometimes run 2-team, 2-GM sessions on different portions of the map). One of their biggest adversaries back when the campaign first got started was an Imperial master of disguise. Just after our campaign's half year mark, he was responsible for destroying the crew's headquarters.

Other villains became more prominent after that session, and the Imperial agent dropped off the radar. The characters and players were shocked that one of their greatest enemies was with them for 7 months, plotting the entire time. I even kept this a secret from my co-GM with a shared prep Google doc that pointed to a different perpetrator .

When Rogesh first joined the team, they checked his identity and confirmed that he wasn't in a flesh tech camouflage disguise, just as a standard precaution. What they didn't realize was that their Imperial adversary's face was the result of daily flesh tech camouflage. "When you wear a mask every day, your true face is the greatest disguise."

However, with Rogesh's time with the PCs, he began to question his loyalties. By mission’s end it was clear that he was hiding his true sympathies from his superiors in a dangerous gambit to save his friends. The other Imperials discovered a transmission he sent out, thinking it was to the Rebel Alliance. However, instead, he revealed the location of the party to one of their greatest enemies, leading to a three-way battle and the Empire caught offguard.

“That message wasn’t for the Rebellion!”

Here's a shot of Rogesh Vai (center), along with his Pantoran and Imperial guises.

Forgoing carrying a weapon over helping out his friends and allies from a safe distance...

Great character! One of the things I LOVE about FFG SWRPG is that non-combat characters can still contribute just as much as their more martial teammates. You just don't get that to the same degree in DnD or Pathfinder, partly due to the greater emphasis on story intrinsically in SWRPG via the narrative dice system.

My favourite character is the WEG pilot that I've just made for an upcoming game; I do plan on converting those stats into ones fitting the FFG system soon, once I'm more comfortable with everything.

What follows is her background; I apologise for its length!:

EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO
With a level of dexterity that was surprising for creatures their size, the two Wookiees navigated the dark and twisted flooring of the Shadow Forest. Around them, but hidden from sight, creatures whispered and cackled; the wroshyr trees groaned loudly, their voices ancient and formidable.

The smaller of the two Wookiees held back as her companion and brother crept on. He noticed her hesitation and hooted impatiently. "Come Gaartha! It's not much further."

"We should not be here. We were told not to." Gaartha glanced back the way she had come, back towards their village. She could no longer see it; quite suddenly, she felt very isolated. "We should go back."

Her brother hooted unkindly at her discomfort, and then shook his head. "You are a coward! We are not going far."

"We have already gone too far, Frorral," his sister snapped back, anger edging into her voice and helping her to forget her nervousness. She stamped over to his side, and jabbed a powerful digit into his chest. "I am no coward; but I am not stupid."

Frorral snorted, agitated by his sibling's assault on his person. He brushed her off and started again towards the forest's depths - and away from their village. "The Empire is far from here. The sound continues, and I will find its source. Come or do not! Leave or do not!" His shaggy figure ducked down behind a massive tree root, and then disappeared.

Still angry, Gaartha did not immediate move to follow him. Instead she hooted angry rebuttals and curses, but slowly her jibes ceased. She had received no response from her sibling, and the minutes lengthened since he had stepped from view. All around her, the Shadow Forest vibrated with movement, energy, and sound; and despite herself, Gaartha grew afraid.

"You will be the death of me!" cursed the Wookiee as she tore headlong after her brother. She lifted a blaster rifle to her shoulder - the same weapon she had lifted from the remains of a defeated stormtrooper - and began tracking Frorral through the undergrowth.

It did not take her long to find her quarry: as large and twisted as the Forest was, Frorral's movements had been hurried, and he had left sizable and obvious markings in his wake. She found him stood atop a small rise; he was stood very still. Gaartha approached him eagerly and grabbed him by the arm.

"We should go!" she growled, but her brother did not reply. Gaartha opened her mouth to speak again, but a sound from nearby caused her to still, and to listen. At first delicate, the noise grew in volume and pitch. Releasing her brother, Gaartha turned her gaze towards the architect of the noise - and let forth a silent gasp of surprise.

Across from their perch, and nestled in the crook of a bowed wroshyr root, was a half-hidden, humanoid figure. It made no movements, but the wailing sound most certainly came from its hiding place. Together, the Wookiee siblings climbed down from their elevated position and edged closer to the scene.

The figure, it was quickly revealed, was a human woman, and was dressed in simple robes of a practical design. She stared forward unblinkingly, and her chest failed to rise. Parts of her body were burnt and ruined, suggesting that she had been the recipient of several, accurate blaster shots. Gaartha was not familiar with human biology, but she could tell from the haunted look in the woman's eyes that she had died slowly, and with no small amount of fear.

But the dead woman was not alone. Nestled tightly in the crook of her arm was a small bundle - a small, moving, wailing bundle. From its depths poked a pale arm, and a tiny, clenched hand.

"Her infant," growled Gaartha sadly.

"It is loud," Frorral said bluntly. "I am surprised it has lasted this long without being eaten."

Slowly, Gaartha turned aside her blaster rifle and reached towards the bundle. The child's wailing lessened, and its frantic arm movements slowed. "Calm yourself child," purred Gaartha as she very gently pried the bundle from its mother's arms. "You are safe."

Her brother's hairy brow knotted as he reached for her discarded weapon. "What are you doing? Leave it be!"

Gaartha's responding growl was edged with a ferocity that Frorral had rarely witnessed. "I will not. The child will die if left alone. I will take it back with me." She glared at her sibling, as though daring him to argue. When he did not, she started past him and back towards the village.

Following his sister with both step and gaze, Frorral asked softly, "If you are told to return it to the Shadow Forest?"

"I will refuse. I am no barbarian." Gaartha studied the child in her arms; it was silent now, and had taken to staring at its furry savour with open fascination.

Not another word was exchanged between the two siblings as they returned through the undergrowth. In the distance, and between the trees, a soft amber glow could be seen, emanating from the village's inviting fires; towards this light did Gaartha walk, and with her went her uncharacteristically quiet brother, a cooing human child, and all the alien sounds of the Forest.

SIX YEARS AGO
"Tell me again, Frorral. Tell me again about the Jedi."

Turning about in his seat, the dark-furred Wookiee considered the human child with a weary eye. He did not resent her enthusiasm, and rare was the occasion when she would rather sit and listen to his stories than run and clamber about the village and Forest like some untamed animal; but again the girl fixated on a single subject, a single narrative - and there was only so many times he could share those stories before they became dull and wearisome.

Yet every time Frorral resolved himself to say no, or offer some alternative to her request, the Wookiee caught sight of that young and eager face. He sighed. "Where do I begin?"

"Where else?" replied the girl. "At the beginning."

Frorral hooted a laugh. "I doubt that anyone alive remembers, or knows, where the Jedi came from, or how their order was formed. All I know for certain is that the Jedi Knights were powerful and brave, and were one of the greatest defences the Old Republic ever had."

"Where did they go?" Riley asked, despite knowing the answer.

Frorral's gaze darkened, and he leaned forwards on his seat. "The Empire wiped them out. Hunted them down. Just like they do to us now." He gestured with a shaggy hand towards the hut's window, and the village that lay beyond it. "Once, this planet was ours, and we built our homes high among the wroshyrs; we had a voice in the Galactic Senate, and were respected as warriors.

"Now they call us slaves; hunt us down; call us mindless beasts." Frorral sat back in his seat, his mood suddenly dark. Riley waited patiently for him to continue; eventually, he spoke again, and in lighter tones. "Few of us were ever Jedi, but our people were close with some of the greatest of their Order."

Riley edged closer. "Did you ever meet one?"

The Wookiee shook his head. "No, never. But I would have liked to. They were as much idols for me as they are for you now."

"Why do so few people know about them?"

"Because the Empire tells lies about who they were and what they did; and the ignorant believe it all," answered the Wookiee. "Not everyone has the potential to become a Jedi, and those that do are found by the Empire and never seen again." A great sigh escaped from Frorral's large mouth. "Fear of being taken by the Empire, and ignorance of who the Jedi were, prevent them from ever returning to the galaxy. Eventually, there truly will be no-one left who remembers them."

Riley shook her head and climbed to her feet. Even at her height, she barely reached her guardian's waist. "Wookiees live for a long time; and there are many in the village who know of the Jedi. They won't be forgotten."

"As long as we remain free, that's true," nodded Frorral; "but we remain free only as long as we hide from the Empire. Even now they hunt for us; it's only our intimate knowledge of this world that ensures we stay one step ahead of them. However, if they ever do find us..."

"Do not scare the child!" growled Gaartha as she emerged through the doorway of the hut. She carried in her arms a bowcaster and a recently-slain animal - a generous meal, once prepared.

Frorral was quick to grumble in response. "I was not scaring her."

"He didn't scare me, Gaartha," agreed Riley. Her young face split into a wide and defiant grin. "I'm not afraid!"

"Then you are foolish," tutted the female Wookiee, but her tone was soft and maternal. She busied herself with the task of preparing the dead animal for consumption; Frorral watched her handle the meat with growing interest, and his stomach growled impatiently.

"There must be those who fight?"

Frorral blinked, and looked back at Riley. "What?"

The girl repeated herself: "I said 'there must be those who fight?'"

"Yes. There are many who fight against the Empire - many who want to free their worlds, their people, or simply restore the Republic. But so far, they haven't had much luck."

Riley's smile grew, and her stance became excited and eager. "They will, one day! And we will live at the top of the wroshyr trees again!" The girl moved closer to the male Wookiee, her energetic movements causing her long hair to dance back and forth across her face. "And the Jedi will come back. They will fight and they will win." This the girl said so sincerely, so faithfully that, for a moment, Frorral almost believed her.

Almost.

TWO YEARS AGO
With a long, shuddering sigh, Riley whispered a silent farewell to her home. Kashyyyk, her habitat for the past sixteen years, could be seen outside of the windows - a gargantuan green orb on an otherwise vast and unforgiving black canvas, slowly growing smaller and smaller.

Beneath her, the VCX-100 light freighter shook and trembled. Despite the sadness that lingered in her chest - or, perhaps, because of it - she felt a queasiness begin to build about her person that made her head spin. She grimaced, touched a hand to her brow, and looked away.

"You alright kid?"

The speaker was Undarr, a Crolute and the captain of the starship in which Riley now sat. She did not glance around at him, but she could feel his eyes on her. He sounded concerned, at least a little, and so she made an effort to appear composed. "Yeah," she answered, remembering this time to speak in Basic. "It's just... I've never been on a ship before. I've never seen the stars this close before. It's a little..."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," said Undarr with a smile. "The first time I went into space, I felt so sick that I could barely stand. Don't think I left my quarters for two days." He laughed, and his large hands moved back and forth across the pilot's console. "And now I can't get enough of it! Soon you will understand."

Before anything more could be said, the freighter's sensors sang and the Crolute's expression became hard. He gestured towards the cockpit displays. "We're approaching the planetary blockade. This won't be easy, and your space sickness will worsen for the duration of it." He shot her a look. "I recommend you rest until this is over; I don't need any distractions."

Obediently, Riley excused herself from the cockpit and staggered through the corridors towards the freighter's living quarters. Her own bunk space was cramped and bare, but she scarcely noticed. Feeling increasingly unsteady on her feet, Riley dropped onto her bunk, turned towards the wall, and drew the blanket up over her head.

The movements of the ships, and the shouts of the freighter's captain, served as an ongoing reminder that, outside, a battle was being fought in earnest. Riley did her best to shut everything out, to calm herself and force down the feelings of sickness and fear. She thought of her guardians, Gaartha and Frorral, and the many friends she had made among the Wookiees that she may never see again. For the briefest of moments, she hated them all for sending her away.

A soft whistle from behind her alerted Riley to the fact that she wasn't alone. She lifted the blanket from her head and looked around. Standing in the doorway to her room was a red and white droid - an astromech, if she recalled correctly. It's head spun as it considered her, and it whistled a question that she didn't understand.

"What?" Riley asked, her unease making her sound abrasive. The droid whistled again, and Riley sat up to listen. "Am I alright? Is that what you're asking?" An affirmative series of bleeps was the response, to which Riley shook her head. "I don't feel right. The ship is swaying, and my head... Aren't you frightened - of the battle outside?" She paused, and then added slowly, "Can you even be afraid?"

The droid bleeped in annoyance, causing Riley to lift her hands apologetically. "I meant no offence. I haven't spent much time with any droids. In fact, I've rarely spent time with anything that wasn't a Wookiee."

Rolling further into the room, the astromech came to a rest besides her bunk. With it so close, Riley could make out it's model ident: R5-D4. She smiled softly, and placed a hand upon its solid head. Surprisingly, her brief dialogue with the droid had sheared away at the worst of her nausea - now if only the little droid could stop the ship from spinning...

"I'm Riley," said the young woman. The droid whistled a question - twice, for her benefit - and afterward Riley added, "Your owner is a friend of my guardians. They asked him to get me away from Kashyyyk - they said he owed them favours from a while back. Turns out he was only too happy to repay the debt."

An explosion sounded uncomfortably close by, and the freighter was jerked violently forward, dislodging Riley from her bunk. She hissed in pain and nursed her battered side, and moved to help the droid right itself. "I hope he knows what he's doing," Riley whispered. R5-D4's torso pitched forwards in a pale imitation of a nod. "They said he was one of the best blockade runners they knew. Guess we'll find out..."

A volley of expletives reached both human and droid from the cockpit. Feeling better - much to her surprise - Riley moved back towards the front of the ship. She dropped into the copilot's seat, and looked out determinedly at the stars.

"What are you doing back?" barked the Crolute. "If you're sick on my console--"

"I feel fine now," replied Riley firmly. She locked eyes with the alien and added, "Tell me what I can do. I want to help."

"A little late to be asking for lessons!" Undarr growled. "Unless you're somehow a master pilot and Gaartha failed to mention it?"

Riley shook her head. "I'm a fast learner - now tell me what I can do!"

Undarr scoffed, but jabbed his thumb in the direction of a console just out of his reach. "Angle the shields. I can't find a moment to-- no, that switch there. There!" A dull hum told the pilot that his instructions had been carried out, and the large alien grinned with ill-humour. "Good. Now, if I can just get a little further... out..."

The stars ahead of them danced back and forth as Undarr rolled the small freighter. Bright streaks sailed past the ship; Riley watched the blaster canon rounds punch onward, and became uncomfortable aware of just how close they were to finding their target.

"Undarr...!"

"Just a little further..." hissed the captain.

"Now?"

"A little more..."

"They're going to hit us!" said Riley.

"Now! Hit that switch! Hit it!"

Acting desperately, Riley brought her palm down hard upon the indicated panel - and suddenly, the whole ship seemed to lengthen. She was pressed back into her seat by some unseen force, and the stars themselves seemed to erupt into beatific, parallel lines. And then, with great force, the little freighter was thrown across the galaxy.

ONE YEAR AGO
Somewhere, out in the far reaches of the Outer Rim, the small VCX-100 light freighter 'Errant Howler' drifted among the stars. To all outward appearances the starship appeared almost tranquil; but within her, a fierce debate had escalated into a heated and extremely loud argument.

The parties involved were the same as they always were: on the one side was squat, stubborn Undarr, whose expression betrayed his irritation and weariness; and on the other was Jakob - a tall, dark-skinned human whose cultured, Coruscanti accent contrasted greatly with the vulgar curses he leveled at his opponent.

From where she sat, Riley looked between both captain and crewmate and wished, not for the first time, that she was anywhere else in the galaxy. She was fond of both beings, but their disputes were always heated. And long.

"We could have done both jobs at the same time, Undarr - there was no reason for you to turn them down," snapped Jakob.

The Crolute bloated in size as his anger grew. "I consider the Empire to be a pretty large and dominant reason for saying no. And as I'm the captain here, saying no is my prerogative!"

Jakob snorted. "Don't give me that excuse - we all know that you've no qualms about taking jobs that will rub the Empire the wrong way."

"There's rubbing them the wrong way, and then there's rubbing them the WRONG way," answered Undarr, rising from his seat, "and working for the Rebel Alliance is most definitely the latter."

The young man shook his head incredulously. "You're being ridiculous. The Empire wants us dead either way - we've inconvenienced them enough already! - so why not try and do some good for a change? The Alliance is making a difference, they're HELPING people."

"They are idealists engaged in a war that they can't possibly win," snapped the captain, turning his back on Jakob. "Now that's enough, Jakob. It's too late now anyway, so let the matter drop. I'm tired of going in circles with you."

Still rooted to the spot, Jakob watched the Crolute lumber from the crew lounge. The young man's face was etched with anger and something else, something deeper - betrayal? Riley studied him for a long moment, until finally he seemed to remember that she was there.

"Riley... I'm sorry," he muttered.

The young woman shrugged. "What for? It's not like you were arguing with me."

"No, but you always get caught in the middle."

"Not the case this time, fortunately." Riley smiled warmly, and gestured to the seat besides her. "Come and have a seat. I'll make you some Spiran caf." He did as he was told, and within a minute she was handing him a steaming mug of the thick, potent beverage. Again seated, Riley sipped from her own mug and considered her companion closely.

Jakob was, Riley knew, a few years older than her, and had a medical background that he had never elaborated on. He had joined the Howler's crew only a few short months after herself, and had quickly come to blows with the freighter's captain. If it hadn't been for his considerable skills as a doctor, it was doubtful that Undarr would have kept him on as a part of the crew.

But unlike his relationship with Undarr, Jakob found himself getting on with Riley exceptionally well. The two spoke often, and he admired her courage and her honesty - qualities, he had told her, that were now rare in the galaxy. He took great interest in her history with the Wookiees, and told her often about the many planets he had been to, and cultures he had studied, in his lifetime.

More than anything, Jakob sported an anti-Empire mindset, and he was open about his sympathetic view of the Rebel Alliance. He would often try and persuade Undarr to accept work from the Rebels whenever the possibility to do so presented itself - but Undarr would always refuse, and his indifference was the sole reason for the two males' constant bickering.

Lowering his mug of Spiran caf, Jakob said suddenly, "I'm not staying."

Riley blinked, caught off-guard by the young man's statement. She sincerely hoped that she had misheard him. "What?"

"I'm not staying," he repeated. "I can't. Not anymore."

"You can't just leave," Riley stated, with an urgency that surprised even her.

"I can," said Jakob softly, "and I will. I have to."

Riley shook her head, and her ponytail danced vigorously. "No you can't. You're needed here."

"You guys were doing fine before I came along, Riley; you'll continue to do fine after I'm gone."

"All this because of some stupid argument?" the young woman snapped. She had risen from her seat without meaning to, and stared accusingly at her friend. "You don't get your way so you just decide to go?"

Jakob shook his head, tracking her movements with gentle eyes. "It's not that simple, Riley, and you know it's not. Undarr might not understand it, but you do. You know how important this is to me; you know that I can't just close my eyes and pretend that the galaxy isn't tearing itself apart."

And Riley did know it, but for some reason all reasonable thought had left her mind. Her stomach had tightened, and her eyes had begun to water. She felt angry - as angry as Jakob himself had been not minutes before.

"Fine." Riley opened her mouth to say something more, but words failed her. Instead she turned on her heel and marched in the direction of her bunk space. Since agreeing to join Undarr's crew on a semi-permanent basis, she had been given quarters much larger than what she had begun with, and her current room came with a functioning door-lock. She activated this lock now, making sure that she would be left alone.

Why was she so angry? That was the question that the young woman asked herself over and over as she dropped heavily onto her bunk. Glaring up at the ceiling, she even went so far as to whisper it aloud. But no answer came - at least, no answer that she was willing to accept as truth.

As much as she hated to admit it, there was a part of her that not only understood Jakob's decision, but also agreed with it - a part of her that wanted to leave the ship behind and do something greater than simply smuggling cargo. She carried no love for the Empire, and Jakob had made sure that she was kept informed of the remarkable work being done by the Rebel Alliance. Riley knew their cause was a just one; she knew that the Empire was an evil that had to be stopped...

But why did Jakob have to be the one to answer destiny's call?

Growling in frustration, Riley wiped her eyes dry and tossed her pillow across the room. It struck the dormant form of R5-D4 and then fell to the floor. As though roused from sleep, the little droid issued a whine and rolled towards her.

"No, Arfive, I'm fine." She studied the droid and smiled slightly. "Didn't hear all the shouting, huh? Sometimes I wish I could just shutdown on command..."

Suddenly, the door bleated, signalling that there was someone outside attempting to enter. Thinking it to be Jakob, Riley glared towards the entrance and snapped, "I'm not in the mood to talk, Jakob."

"I am neither Jakob, nor in the mood to talk to you through a closed door," answered Undarr. "Now open up, Riley."

Sighing, the young woman reached for the lock and deactivated it. She returned to her seat upon the bunk just as the Crolute shifted through the doorway. He studied her for a long moment before he spoke.

"We're heading to Corellia. I have a few people there who have work for us."

"Okay," answered Riley.

"You'll need to make sure the Howler is fully repaired, refueled, and ready to fly by the time I get back with the details."

"Okay."

Undarr frowned - the expression had an unpleasant effect upon his already unpleasant face. "What's wrong? You are not normally so..." He gestured with a large hand as he struggled to find the word. "...monotonous."

"Can I ask you something without you getting angry?" asked Riley. The Crolute's frown deepened, but he nodded. "Why are you so set against helping the Rebel Alliance?"

Undarr's exasperated sigh was etched with desperation. "Oh gods, not you as well!"

"I'm not trying to persuade you to do it," Riley said quickly, "I just want to know why you're so set against it."

Fidgeting with his large hands, the captain gave himself a moment to consider a response. "It's dangerous, Riley."

She shrugged. "So are most of the jobs we take on."

"The Rebel Alliance doesn't pay well," countered Undarr.

"Jakob's told me how much they've offered before now - and it's been twice the amount we've accepted for other work." Riley shuffled over to the edge of her bunk, and stared intently at her alien employer. "So money clearly isn't the problem."

Struggling to keep his composure, Undarr snapped, "What would Gaartha and Frorral say if they knew I was accepting work that put you directly in the Empire's crosshairs? They gave you up to keep you safe from the Emperor - if they thought for a moment that I was going to do something that would put you in danger...!"

"I'm already in danger, Undarr!" said Riley, getting to her feet. "Every time I run a blockade in your ship, I'm risking my life."

Undarr shook his head. His flesh quivered as he did so. "This is not the same. You don't understand."

"Then help me to understand," she hissed.

"No!" bellowed Undarr, finally pushed too far. The hardness in his voice caused Riley to step back in surprise. He had never yelled at her before - not like this. "I've made my decision and it is final. I'm tired of you and Jakob questioning me every time I make a decision - I am the captain, and not you! This is my ship! My decision!" He turned about and stormed from the room.

Stunned by the alien's reaction, Riley slowly lowered herself back to her bunk. R5-D4 voiced his concern, but she barely heard him.

Why was Undarr so afraid of helping the Alliance? Was it, as he said, because he wanted to keep her safe? He had sounded sincere... but why was he afraid to pit her against the Empire if he showed no such concerns when it came to other threats? What was he so afraid of?

Movement in her peripheral forewarned Riley of Jakob's arrival at her door. His concern was openly worn. "I heard him shouting. Are you alright?" It was clear from his voice that he, too, had never expected Undarr to speak to Riley in such a way.

"I'm going with you."

Riley's response caught them both off-guard. The young woman and man stared at one another in surprise. Finally, Jakob stammered, "What? Are you sure?"

Having composed herself, Riley nodded emphatically. "Yeah. You're right, Jakob. We could be doing more - we SHOULD be doing more."

Jakob smiled widely, and seemed on the verge of voicing his joy; but then, slowly, his smile lessened. "Riley... You're not making this decision for the wrong reasons, right? This isn't just because of what Undarr said?"

Riley's brow knotted. "Give me some credit, Jakob. I'm not going to completely upend my entire life just because Undarr decided to yell at ME for a change."

"Are you sure? About leaving, I mean."

She smiled. "I am. If you're happy to have me tagging along, that is."

"I'd be crazy not to accept help from one of the best pilots in the Outer Rim," replied Jakob with a grin. Riley couldn't help but blush at the compliment, despite its inaccuracy: whilst she had proven herself to be a natural pilot, she had much to learn about flying before she could ever be considered the best of any region of the galaxy. But still... a compliment was a compliment.

"Well then, it's settled," beamed Riley. "Now I've just got to find a way of breaking it to Undarr..."

PRESENT DAY
The cantina was busier than expected. Based on its outward appearance, Riley had expected the place to be mostly empty, with nothing but half-hearted decour filling its interior; what she saw instead was a thriving business, filled to the brim with patrons, chatter, raised voices, and well-used furniture.

It took consider effort on Riley's part to keep her hand away from her blaster. She distracted herself with the effort of adjusting her backpack straps; when she was satisfied, she surveyed the numerous alien lifeforms until she caught sight of her companion.

After only a brief sweep of the cantina, Riley found Jakob sat in a corner booth. He was alone, accompanied only by a half-tended drink of something local. Riley moved to his side as slowly as she dared and then slid into the seat opposite.

"You took your time," Jakob said quietly. "I hope you didn't run into any trouble?"

"No trouble," she answered; "but I didn't want to seem too eager to get here."

Jakob nodded, and nursed his drink for a long moment. Riley studied him; they had been apart for several days, each one following up different leads on the Rebel Alliance. Neither had broken their promised comlink silence - until now.

"So," began Riley with forced patience, "you made contact?"

"I did. Not much was said, but I was told that we were to meet him here."

"Meet who?"

Jakob shrugged. "I didn't get a name; they just said that they'd find us."

Riley's brow furrowed. "That sounds ominous. And you're sure this isn't a trap?"

"A trap? For us? We haven't done anything worthy of a trap. Not yet."

"We've been asking after the Alliance," Riley countered quietly, leaning across the table. "If the Empire heard about that, they could assume - quite rightly - that we're trying to join up; or maybe they think we're already involved, or know who is."

Her companion sighed softly, and then shrugged. His smile was tired, but handsome enough to be infectious. "Either way, it's too late now. We'll just have to see what happens."

Slowly, uncertainly, Riley leaned back into her seat. Though she was loathe to admit it, Jakob was right: they had come too far, and made too many inquiries, to turn back now. For better or worse, their searching had brought them to this place, at this time.

She only hoped that they weren't walking into a trap.