Full Name: Caedrit Mariusque ad Mare (Thought to be an alias)
Nickname(s): Caed, Caed the Merry
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Homeworld: Glee Anselm
Race: Nautolan
Occupation: Out of work Smuggler
Eyes: Black
Hair: None
Personality: Caedrit the Merry, as he's known to several associates and friends is a fun-loving, jovial sort that loves the drink as much as he loves to fly. He's always got a wild tale to tell over a mug of lum and a spare credit for a friend in need. Recent events, however, have tested his optimistism, but he continues to make the best out of his situation.
General Description: Caedrit stands at 5'10" and around 170 pounds. Caedrit is a shade under stocky and his belly only protrudes after a fierce bout of boozing after a successful run. His skin is a light blue hue mottled with brown, green and darker blue spots on his back, shoulders and along the 14 tendrils sprouting from the back of his bare skull. His eyes are large, black and unblinking and are only eclipsed by the even larger toothy grin always plastered to his face.
Clothing: Caedrit usually wears blue loose-fitting all-purpose workman's pants dotted with a few tools here and there. Caedrit's head tresses are adorned with several rust-colored metals bands, merely for show. A white v-neck cloth shirt,a brown padded flight jacket and a worn pair of combat boots complete his outfit.
Weapons: None
Other Equipment: Hydrospanner, Fusion cutter, equipment satchel
Transportation: None
Inventory: 500 Credits (Over 20k in debt to Ta'varik)
Family: All estranged.
History: "Son of a sith, son of a sith, son of a SITH!" Caedrit cursed as his grip on the control panel tightened. A burst of laser fire had rendered his ship's shields to a quickly fading indicator light among the myriad flashing warning lights dotting across the panel.
Another blast rocked the Kalend's Folly and the desperate shriek of metal sublight drive engine metal grinding against itself echoed throughout the cockpit.
"Alright already...I get it," he grumbled as he scrambled his fingers over the controls attempting to reroute any power to the engines.
"Paperwork...should've thought of that," Caedrit muttered to himself, sarcastically. The Imperial picket ship following close behind was giving Caedrit's ship a well-deserved pounding. Paperwork would have indeed been ideal for Caedrit, if he could acquire paperwork to smuggle illegally modified blaster rifles, he would have most certainly
gotten it. Caedrit was, if not intelligent, resourceful or well-connected, a brazen legitimate trader pilot who had only recently and by a spat of bad luck, turned illegitimate "smuggler."
Caedrit Mariusque ad Mare was not born of nobility or stature but raised among the lower class of Glee Anselm. His family consisted of whichever aunt or uncle or grandparent would shuffle him from family to family as his parents fought drug addiction or jail time.
Born with an undying ability to see the brighter side of life, Caedrit adapted to his nomadic family life and would carry his wayward wanderlust late into his teens.
Having been attending grade school intermittently for as long as he could remember, Caedrit finally was satisfied with the education he had somewhat received at the age of 17 and skipped off-planet aboard a heavy freighter bound for wherever was farthest from
home.
Being innately curious, Caedrit was found aboard the freighter as the source of an engine malfunction. Caedrit was simply examining the inner workings of a hyperspace engine assembly. Rather than space the young Nautolan, the captain encouraged Caedrit's curiosity and had the ship's engineer tutor the young apprentice in the finer points of sublight and hyperspace engine maintenance.
A nine-year stint working on everything from blockade runners to scoutships followed Caedrit as he wandered from job to job. Picking up a myriad of skills in the business of legitimate shipping and piloting, Caedrit finally amassed enough credits to place a down payment on a battered used Ghtroc 580 freighter. Still being relatively
naive to the universe, Caedrit entangled himself with the dealings of one Ta'varik the Bloated. Easily the shadiest Twi'lek ship dealer in all of Nar Shadaa. Caedrit, always eager and optimistic, saw what was easily a deal too good to be true, as an opportunity to break out on his own.
Caedrit took the Kalend's Folly on a whirlwind tour around the Outer Rim delivering any cargo he could manage to get his hands on, legitimate of course. However, time and again he found himself working for Ta'varik, as a "favor" for some friend of his with the
promise of knocking off a portion of his debt. The cargo was always nefariously marked, but Ta'varik always had the appropriate forms to accompany it.
Caedrit continued in the service of Ta'varik, meeting his payments despite the near daily maintenance needed to keep the Kalend's Folly up to par. Caedrit realized less than a year into his service to Ta'varik that the freighter was shot and would continue to
plague him with problems. It was only through Caedrit's hardwork and constant care and attention for the ship that he'd managed to keep it running.
However, fate would deal him a cruel blow.
Coming back from his latest run, the Kalend's Folly's hyperdrive had let out one long exasperating whine and died. It was simply overworked after nearly two decades of service and Caedrit knew it.
He limped back into docking bay 432B, knowing full well what awaited him. He'd have to ask for a favor, and asking for a favor meant he'd be even deeper in debt.
Ta'varik was more than happy to oblige an extension and reworking of Caedrit's loan.
Included was a new hyperdrive along with a significant increase in both the amount and interest rate on the loan.
"However," Ta'varik said while a wry smile cross his lips. "There are other ways to make a quick credit."
With those words, Caedrit entered a life of infamy.
Only a few runs in, Caedrit found himself neck deep in illegally modified E-11 blaster rifles destined for some desert rock way out in the middle of nowhere.
The system, he was assured, would be completely devoid of customs or Imperial presence. Caedrit regretted trusting someone who'd screwed him over time and again. But he had
little choice.
The Tatooine system, it turned out, was anything if devoid of customs officials who demanded such things as paperwork, specifically for cargo of questionable origin. Caedrit had panicked, punched his engines and headed dirtside hoping to lose the Imperials.
He'd gravely overestimated his piloting skills as well as underestimating the tenacity and zeal of a young junior Imperial officer intent on having a spotless inspection record on this
backwater planet.
"I got a bad feeling about this," Caedrit muttered as laser blasts continued to pour into the stern of his ship.
RP Sample:
Warning klaxons continue their shrill cry in Caedrit's ears as he struggled to keep control of his ship. He wouldn't last much longer against the Imperial patrol vessel if he couldn't think of something fast.
His hands ran over the engine controls and a spark of inspiration clouded his coal black eyes. A smirk crept over his face as the idea spread.
"Hope this works," he said to himself, punching the throttle to accelerate into the atmosphere of Tatooine. His fingers flurried over the controls, preparing the ship for what was most likely its final flight. Laser blasts continued to shell the stern, but he only needed those engines to hold out a few moments more.
He broke the atmosphere, feeling the pull of the planet's gravity on his ship, accelerating its speed.
He aimed the nose of the ship straight down and cut the engines.
He scrambled to the com and did his best to imitate a frantic ship's pilot.
"Mayday, mayday," he yelled. "This is the Kalend's Folly. My engines are shot, abandoning ship."
He shut off the com, hoping the Imperials would buy the ruse.
Caedrit checked the repulsorlift engines, which had sustained little damage. He rerouted what little power remained in the ship to the repulsorlift engines then scrambled toward the rear of his freighter. He ran to each escape pod and punched the launch buttons on each. He stumbled his way back to the cockpit in time to see each pod flying in opposite directions away from his ship. He gripped the controls and sent his ship into a slow spin, hoping the Imperials would take the bait.
They did.
He saw the picket ship peel off to the east, following one of the escape pods. Caed was ripping through the clouds and could see the distant earth flying up to meet him.
"Now or never..." he muttered, punching in the repulsorlift drives to attempt to slow his ship's momentum.
The ship lurched and jerked its nose up violently, sending Caed flying to the deck. He leapt up and reassumed the controls, willing the ship to right itself as he plummetted down.
"This is gonna be bad...."
Caed strapped himself in and continued to guide the hurtling hunk of ship into the ground.
Moments before impact, the ship righted itself, managing to pull its nose above level before smashing into a large dune, flipping over onto its back and slipping into the sand.
Minutes later, Caed woke up.
"I'm alive....I'm alive! Woohoo!" he yelled.
Acting quickly, Caed remembered his situation, knowing the Imperials would catch on soon. He scrambled through the ship, gathered what ltitle possessions he could carry and stumbled out into the heat of Tatooine's suns.
Spying a city on the horizon, Caed shook his head woefully at the distance, glanced back at his ship one last time and trudged onward.
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