Azaria T'Dartha

[Azaria]

Name: Azaria T’dartha
Code name/Alias: Chartreuse
Allegiance: Rebel Alliance

Age: uncertain… around 35
Place of Birth: uncertain… possibly Coruscant

Physical:
Species: Twi’lek – colouring: Jade green with red freckles & lekku tips
Gender: female
Height: 6ft - Weight: 134lbs - Eyes: black
Distinguishing features: tattoos on face, neck, lekku, and left arm
Manner of dress: often found in wrinkled flight suits of varying states of cleanliness, and old welding goggles, though she sometimes cleans herself up and slips into her Pryss-creature leather suit and plated armor... she knows how to flaunt it while still covering 90% of her body.
Weapon of choice: anything that can be used to hurt someone with - she's not picky

Occupation: Intelligence Operator
Previous Occupation(s): smuggler, pilot, casino worker, and rebel collaborator

Psychological:
While cunning and deceitful most of the time, Azaria T’dartha has a more caring, kinder side that comes out when amongst friends and those she trusts. She lives for the moment, which often leads her into trouble when she acts rashly, but can and does practice self-control when trouble is followed by danger.

Personal:
Azaria T'dartha grew up in the lower levels of Coruscant, hiding from Imperial troopers, slavers, and all other types of scum and predators that lurk in the dark.
Her past is a mystery; she remembers very little of her life from before approximately her seventh year when she fell in with a gang of children in similar circumstances, although she occasionally dreams about a tall tower filled with other children and calm, kind people in strange robes... Sometime in her eleventh year, her gang was busted up by stormtroopers, and slavers caught those who escaped the imps. She was shipped to Ord Mandell to be a slave at the lucrative Fifteen Moons Casino. There she lived for several years until she was sold to a smuggler, who freed her and taught her in the fine art of spice smuggling. She remained with the smuggler, Paris T'haul until a bounty hunter killed him. She then took over his ship, the Heart Of Oak, and the smuggling business.

Throughout her career Azaria avoided both Imperials and Rebels, believing that aligning herself with one or the other was only asking for trouble. She kept mainly to the black market, providing services to underworld villains throughout the galaxy; however, Azaria eventually became caught up in Rebel affairs. After a few adventures she attempted to go on the up and up, but that fell though, tempted by the large payouts offered by gangsters. She reverted back into the sweet trade, though still maintaining friendship with the rebel alliance - paying back favors owed to members of the Alliance in the form of information and the occasional transportation of goods, people, etc. Unfortunately, her crew has been unhappy with her dealings with the Rebels and the possibility of mutiny is always a threat…

When Azaria declared the ship's next destination was the Twi'lek homeworld of Ryloth, and that it was a personal trip, she convinced her crew to debark the Heart of Oak. She left them behind on Coruscant, picking up a passenger to pay some of the way, and was on her way when she received a job offer from a friend of a friend of a friend within the Alliance to help take the heat off of the Rebels by giving the Empire something else to worry about.

That went south quickly.
She wound up stranded on some Force forsaken rock, her ship - the Heart of Oak - in ruins, and the only hope of determining who the rat bastard was who'd betrayed them to be found in the furry paws of the Bothan Spynet... specifically the greasy paws of her Bothan handler, Krusk Vulk'bek.

[Azaria]

Four Years Before Start of "The Kuati Job"

***************

Azaria laid on the ground next to the charred remains of her one true love, bitter tears spilling silently down her freckled green cheeks, and disappearing into the dirt. She reached a bruised and bloodied arm out towards the corpse, hand wavering a hairsbreadth away, hesitant to touch and feel the cruel cooling, heat and fluids bleeding away into the thirsty ground.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, voice heavy with emotion and hoarse from screaming. "I'm so sorry... oh my Heart!"

Slowly she laid her hand upon the scorched metal, gently brushing away dirty that had settled upon the twisted wreckage after its fiery crash. "You were so good. A good ship."

A racking sob shook her frame, from toes to the tips of her lekku. "I'm so, so sorry. I shouldn't have come here with you, I should've just used that little X-wing..."

The Heart of Oak, her hull cracked open and contents strewn about and smoldering, groaned as gravity tore its weakened welds apart to collapse in the dust. She was dead.

What was Azaria to do now? Her crew had deserted her when she began dealing with the Rebels, and the Rebels... who knows where the main host of them were now, their old hiding spots and safe houses burnt or emptied. The crowd she'd run with were scattered, victims of inattention and the machinations of an Imperial mole. She hissed and thrust herself up to her knees, a vicious urge to find and strangle the life slowly out of whomever had betrayed them... she had her suspicions, but who could tell for certain? They'd been a ragtag band of misfits and deserters, scoundrels and assassins. They'd been the dregs of the Alliance... but deadly effective, and exactly the ppl to do the jobs the Alliance didn't want to admit to having done...

She cursed and spat a mouthful of muddy saliva to the ground.

She would survive. She always survived - Coruscant hadn't been able to beat her down, and slavery hadn't held her either. She would find the Rebels, and then she would find the scum whose treason lead the the destruction of her ship.

Goals set, Azaria whispered a last prayer and a promise to the remains of the Heart of Oak, then turned away and began the march to the distant city she's seen on their descent...