Krusk Vulk'bek

[Azaria]

Name: Krusk Vulk'bek
Character owner [if owned]: Azaria
Character status: For now, to be played only by creator, until character is formed. Afterwards, playable with permission from owner.
Code name/Alias: "Ven'al"
Allegiance: Bothan Council & Rebel Alliance

Age: 52
Place of Birth: Bothawui

Physical:
Species: Bothan Colouring: Greyish brown fur with redish beard, eyebrows, and ear tufts
Gender: male
Height: 4' 7'' Weight: 200lbs
Eyes: brown
Distinguishing features: substantial pot-belly, long droopy mustaches, eyebrows, and scraggly chin-beard, scars along face and neck in strange, slashing patterns, bionic eye.
Manner of dress: a cheap, ill fitting suit that tries too hard to be stylish
Weapon of choice: administrative action & small poisoned darts

Current Occupation: Senior Intelligence Operative - Intermediary between ASOG:7 and the Bothan Spynet
Previous Occupation(s): Intelligence Operator, Operative Handler, Spy, fast food worker

Psychological:
Krusk was once an ambitious young Bothan, who did all that was asked of him by the Bothan Council & Spynet, in the belief that his work was important, valued, and appreciated enough to see him work his way up the treacherous political ladder that is Bothan society. He is no longer that idyllic young man.
Now he will risk others long before he would risk a papercut doing paperwork for said others, and grabs at every straw to try and dig himself out of the sad, sorry hole he has landed in. He will take advantage of anything and anyone that he deems useful, and takes care to line his own pockets first.

Personal History:
Work in progress, but let us just say it will be a sad story of misadventure, bad luck, bad life choices, and eventual death.

[Sjet]

Why am I hearing Kevin Spacey from House of Cards when i think of this guys voice?

[Azaria]

Not far off, lol.

[Azaria]

"Welcome to the 7th Allied Special Operations Group!

You are about to join a tight knit network of well equipped and well respected professionals serving the Glorious Rebellion against the tyrannical Emperor and his Imperial minions.
As a valued member of this elite task force, you will find yourself upholding the ideals of the Rebellion, overthrowing the corrupt and liberating the countless masses who yearn for an end to the choke hold Palpatine has inflicted upon them, throughout the galaxy!

Today you take your first step towards that goal, but you do not take it alone!
Look around you now, and you will see the men, women, and non-gendered beings who will be your comrades in arms, backing you up and supporting you as you take these steps alongside them; and you in turn will mind their 6 and carry them when they cannot carry on.

Indeed, the strength of the team is each individual member, and the strength of each member is the team.

Blah blah blah

Every organisation, not just business, needs one core competence: Tactical execution. That is where you and the professionals you work with come in.

blah blah blah

Neither the fanatics nor the faint-hearted are needed. And our duty as freedom fighters is not to the Resistance alone, but to the Galaxy, and, indeed, to all sentient-kind. Our duty is not merely the changing of political power but the restoration of peace and freedom.

So let us not be petty when our cause is so great. Let us not quarrel amongst ourselves when the Galaxy's future is at stake.
Let us stand together with renewed confidence in our cause -- united in our heritage of the past and our hopes for the future -- and determined that this Ideal we love shall lead all sentient-kind into new frontiers of peace and abundance.”

The speech went on from there, but Krusk had stopped reading in earnest a few lines in, and had only lightly skimmed the rest.

Really?

This is the bantha poodu he was supposed to feed to the crowd of miscreants he'd been assigned to watch over?
The literal dredges of the Bothan Spynet and Rebel Alliance alike?!?!

Fur bristling with annoyance, the Bothan 'spymaster' tossed the data pad down onto his desk, only to have it cause an avalanche of papers, pads, and random crap to fall in slow motion off his desk and scatter throughout his dingy office.

"Groom it," he sighed, after several moments of such severe frustration as to have grabbed the blaster from its hidden spot beneath his desk and aimed it at the offending pad, dropping the blaster into a drawer which also, handily, concealed a large bottle of Correllian whiskey and a glass. There was only enough for a few sips, so he ignored the dirty cup and just drained the bottle himself.

"Groom it all."