Jarion Tass

[T-Prime]

Name: Jarion Tass
Code name/Alias: Eidolon
Allegiance: For Hire

Age: 32
Place of Birth: Kuat

Physical:
Species: Human (Cyborg)
Gender: Male
Height: 5'10" Weight: 176lbs
Eyes: Cybernetic (left) Green (right)
Distinguishing features: Cybernetic implants
Manner of dress: Dark colours and simple style. Likes hats.
Weapon of choice: A pair of custom modified DH-17 blaster pistols, stealth field generator, "taser fingers" (Experimental. Read: Unreliable)

Current Occupation: Spy
Previous Occupation(s): Information Broker

Psychological: Loose cannon. Pathological dislike of authority figures. Gearhead (Always tinkering, even with his own implants).

Personal History: Born on a world where the lower class are considered little better than animals, Jarion couldn't get off world fast enough. Raised mostly by street gangs he learned early that people couldn't kill you if they couldn't find you. After developing a talent for going unseen in dangerous places, he began a modest career as a spy for one gang leader after another. One even footed the bill for the cybernetics to compliment Jarion's natural talents. Eventually Jarion's dream of leaving his home planet came true and he discovered that information was both a valuable comodity and a lethal weapon. Jarion had found his true calling as an information broker; All the secrets in the galaxy could be acquired for the right price.

[T-Prime]

This had to be one of the easiest jobs he had ever done. Jarion thought to himself as he slid past a pair of mechanics prying at one of the speeder stored in the hangar. Security at this 'secret' outpost was laughable. Just a few more feet and...SNAP! Jarion spun around just in time to catch a piece of jagged metal in the abdomen.

Funny, it didn't hurt nearly as much as Jarion would have thought. That was because the shrapnel didn't slice into his soft, vulnerable flesh, it embedded itself a good centimetre into his stealth field generator. The wound was fatal. Jarion shimmered into full view of the hangar's rebel occupants.

"Aw crap."


It was a nice cell. One of the most comfortable he'd ever stayed in. Of course his equipment was confiscated and his implants shut down. The worst part was that made it hard to see and hear. He had grown accustomed to the enhancements his cybernetics provided. Of course, escape was inevitable. Preferably in a manner that recovered his pistols. It had taken years to get them just right.

He was only in the cell for a few hours before the guards escorted him to a small interrogation room and chained him to a chair. Then he waited some more before the real fun began. A pair of Bothans finally came to see him. This piqued Jarion's interest. Didn't the Bothan's run the rebel spy network.

They sat and wasted no further time. The first to speak was a squirrely looking individual with a briefcase, which he didn't open. Damn bureaucrats.

"You were apprehended attempting to sneak into a highly classified installation."

"Out." Jarion corrected.

"Excuse me?"

"I was apprehended sneaking out of a highly classified installation."

"I assure you, your attempts to increase your apparent importance with these fabrications will fall on deaf ears."

Jarion shrugged. Whether this petty functionary believed him or not didn't really matter.

"You are clearly guilty of trespassing, espionage, and theft. The penalties..."

"Oh give me a break. You're rebels. The convicts in the imperial stockade have more legal standing than you do. Since you haven't killed me already I can only assume you've got a job that you need a professional for. I want my guns and my implants back. And I want a new hat. A good one."

"You presume far too..."

The second Bothan silenced the first with a raised hand.

"Get him his gear and tell him when and where to report."

Jarion put his feet up on the table and smiled.