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View attachment 1248
(Roughest estimation of his looks)
SoundTrack
(Roughest estimation of his looks)
SoundTrack
NAME:Dirk Reiden
Faction: Independent
RANK: N/A
SPECIES: Human
RACE: UNKNOWN
AGE: 26
GENDER: Male
HEIGHT: 6’0”
WEIGHT: 180lbs
EYES: Pale green
HAIR: Black with a premature sliver of silver on his left temple
SKIN: White
CREDITS: 0
BOUNTY: 9,550; Alive
DISTINGUISHING MARKS: 5 Small vertical scars along the left side of his jaw, constant five o’clock shadow, the finger print on his right thumb is scarred Premature silver hair on left temple.
GEAR: Dirty grey synthweave tank top, dark blue cargo pants tucked into salvaged armored boots, welding goggles worn haphazardly around his neck, shoulder holster with a salvaged mando heavy blaster, 6" knife on his belt, over it all he wears a worn out black long coat with a short 1 inch tall collar.
Faction: Independent
RANK: N/A
SPECIES: Human
RACE: UNKNOWN
AGE: 26
GENDER: Male
HEIGHT: 6’0”
WEIGHT: 180lbs
EYES: Pale green
HAIR: Black with a premature sliver of silver on his left temple
SKIN: White
CREDITS: 0
BOUNTY: 9,550; Alive
DISTINGUISHING MARKS: 5 Small vertical scars along the left side of his jaw, constant five o’clock shadow, the finger print on his right thumb is scarred Premature silver hair on left temple.
GEAR: Dirty grey synthweave tank top, dark blue cargo pants tucked into salvaged armored boots, welding goggles worn haphazardly around his neck, shoulder holster with a salvaged mando heavy blaster, 6" knife on his belt, over it all he wears a worn out black long coat with a short 1 inch tall collar.
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes
STRENGTH: Just like most other smugglers, Dirk’s frame is filled with taught wiry muscle good for slugging people and throwing the occasional table in an escape. His real talent however lies elsewhere. 6/10
DEXTERITY: Dirk’s youth was spent running the ally’s and trash strewn streets of the lower sectors of Coruscant, and various disreputable places, luckily the skills he’s learned translate into survival, so he’s kept up the practice and its led to him having a high agility and being quite nimble. 7/10
CONSTITUTION: Dirk’s always in relatively good health, unless he gets the sniffles, or a deadly disease, or a serious injury, like maybe a hang nail. 5/10
INTELLIGENCE: The wheels are always turning in Dirks head, as he was taught in his youth that if they weren’t you had a fancy smoking hole somewhere on your body. Being a tinkerer Dirk repairs his own equipment, and is usually taking something apart or putting something together in his down time to help him work through things. 8/10
WISDOM: “You can’t pay people with wisdom.” That’s whatt Dirk says, even though in reality his life has taught him a few hard things, like that the galaxy is shaded in lighter and darker grays and there is no walk-able line, only a dark middle, and he's quick to point it out. 6/10
CHARISMA: Dirk won’t charm you on the first date or the second even. Rough life has led him to being guarded, and most people just assume it’s him being rude, or apathetic. In reality if someone hung around long enough they’d see that beneath the one layered shield lie a complicated individual, loyal and passionate. 5/10
STRENGTH: Just like most other smugglers, Dirk’s frame is filled with taught wiry muscle good for slugging people and throwing the occasional table in an escape. His real talent however lies elsewhere. 6/10
DEXTERITY: Dirk’s youth was spent running the ally’s and trash strewn streets of the lower sectors of Coruscant, and various disreputable places, luckily the skills he’s learned translate into survival, so he’s kept up the practice and its led to him having a high agility and being quite nimble. 7/10
CONSTITUTION: Dirk’s always in relatively good health, unless he gets the sniffles, or a deadly disease, or a serious injury, like maybe a hang nail. 5/10
INTELLIGENCE: The wheels are always turning in Dirks head, as he was taught in his youth that if they weren’t you had a fancy smoking hole somewhere on your body. Being a tinkerer Dirk repairs his own equipment, and is usually taking something apart or putting something together in his down time to help him work through things. 8/10
WISDOM: “You can’t pay people with wisdom.” That’s whatt Dirk says, even though in reality his life has taught him a few hard things, like that the galaxy is shaded in lighter and darker grays and there is no walk-able line, only a dark middle, and he's quick to point it out. 6/10
CHARISMA: Dirk won’t charm you on the first date or the second even. Rough life has led him to being guarded, and most people just assume it’s him being rude, or apathetic. In reality if someone hung around long enough they’d see that beneath the one layered shield lie a complicated individual, loyal and passionate. 5/10
FORCE POWERS: Dirk’s unrefined force sensitivity manifests itself as extraordinary luck, or excellent intuition.
SKILLS: Being good with a blaster, and quick on his feet has kept Dirk alive through his adult life, that and luck and intuition. He’s pretty good in a fist fight, but his talents lie in staying two steps ahead of everyone, or trying to at least, as well as probably being the only person who can Pilot his ship, The Silver Sparrow.
LIGHTSABER/SWORD FORMS: N/A
STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES:
STRENGTHS: Good blaster skills
Good with technology
won’t sacrifice his morals
WEAKNESSES: Won’t sacrifice his morals
Can’t trust most people.
Extreme, even Paranoid Refusal to face his past unless absolutely necessary
SKILLS: Being good with a blaster, and quick on his feet has kept Dirk alive through his adult life, that and luck and intuition. He’s pretty good in a fist fight, but his talents lie in staying two steps ahead of everyone, or trying to at least, as well as probably being the only person who can Pilot his ship, The Silver Sparrow.
LIGHTSABER/SWORD FORMS: N/A
STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES:
STRENGTHS: Good blaster skills
Good with technology
won’t sacrifice his morals
WEAKNESSES: Won’t sacrifice his morals
Can’t trust most people.
Extreme, even Paranoid Refusal to face his past unless absolutely necessary
Sit across the table from Dirk Reiden and make a deal with him, but avoid his eyes, don’t ask how he grew up, and don’t think you’re in his ‘good book’ just because you've had a few sentences. That’s the air Dirk has carefully built around himself after 8 years on the run from his old mentor. Deep inside however, he’s bleeding and he’s looking for help. Occasionally this leaks out in the form of sarcasm, or very dry humor, and can its gotten him into a predicament or two, something he usually ends up regretting, but all in all he tries. He can’t turn down a person with the humility to ask for help, money or not, but he tries to drive them away as best he can, hoping they won't end up getting to close to him But his lack of trust usually keeps an encounter from becoming a relationship; it would take an extraordinary being to be able to keep Dirk around. Occasionally, he has cases of extreme paranoia regarding his past, or any mention of it.
“Bastasi,” the hydrospanner clattered down and came to rest tangled in some wires. He was sitting in at the workbench in the Axiom’s storage deck, with a bleeding finger and the dismantled pieces of a blaster pistol in front of him. He stuck the finger in his mouth and mumbled something about the hydrospanner being thrown to a group of kath hounds. He took the finger out of his mouth, and looked at the cut. Small, and not dangerous, but it’d be annoying. It had stopped bleeding fairly quickly; he looked down at his work. He’d scorched the internal circuits. Great, Dirk sighed and rubbed his eyes, he hadn’t been paying attention. Instead he was thinking about how in the hell he’d gotten here. It had been eight years. Eight year’s since he was forced to flee his home and he hadn’t seen it since. But recently he was hearing things, things that sounded bad. So being forced to play his hand, he’d set a course for the information hub of the galaxy. To meet the man he was on the run from.
When he was ten his parents had disappeared leaving him alone in the lower sectors of Coruscant, he didn’t know what to do, he wandered around for several days, looking for them. He tried begging, but he only ever got beatings or was run off, so he resorted to stealing and he found he was pretty good at it and he carried on for a year. Then one night he’d gotten caught stealing from a rodian gangster’s pocket. He could remember the overbearing sense of something. And then the gangster whirled, Dirk caught a fist in the chest and he fell. He scrambled and ran through the streets, the rodian following closely. It wasn’t a long chase, soon Dirk ran into a dead end alley. He threw the credits on the ground, and apologized to the gangster, but the rodian had other plans. He drew a blaster pistol and pointed it at Dirk, but the shot never came. There was the sound of a blaster being fired, but Dirk never felt the hot explosion of pain. Instead a smoking hole appeared in the rodian’s chest and the Blaster clattered to the ground. He collapsed in a rough pile of crumbled limbs, and behind him stood a man with a smoking barrel.
Dirk came out of his memories and sighed. He stood up and left the workbench, climbing up the ladder and heading for the refresher near the sleeping areas. He undressed and ran cold water over his head, leaning against the wall his thumb caught his attention and he stared at the scar. Dirk remembered everything from that moment, the way the light cast shadows over the upper half of his future “caretaker”, those black boots, chromium buckles on the sides, and dark grey pants.He stepped from the shadows and the multi colors of neon signs showed his face. Strong jaw and chin, long slightly hooked nose, and violent iceberg blue eyes. The lights cast long dark under his eyes and along his sharp cheeks. He wore a black leather flight jacket, and beneath that a white t-shirt. He holstered his pistol in a shoulder holster, and barked a command at the young child.
“Come here.”
Dirk flinched, and stood where he was looking at the dead rodian, scared.
“I said come here,” he yelled.
He was crying now, but tentatively he moved to stand in front of him head down, shoulders scrunched.
The man spoke again, quietly this time, “I am Daniel Hax, and I believe I have just saved your life. Where are your parents?”
“Dead,” Dirk replied solidly.
Hax rubbed his five o’clock shadow, “Do you know what a life debt is?” Dirk simply shook his and Daniel continued on, “It’s what you owe me after I’ve stopped that thug from blasting you to pieces. So let’s go,” He turned and started walking, after a few steps he half turned back to Dirk and said quietly, “I have free food.”
Dirk’s stomach growled angrily at the mention of food, and reluctantly he followed. Daniel led him up a few sectors, to a hanger and there, in a dark corner sat the Axiom. Even then he remembered the hull being a grey red brown patchwork. Daniel fed him and told him he’d keep Dirk around, on the ship with his crew if he would work for him. He let Dirk sleep on the ship, and in the morning Dirk accepted the offer glad for the perceived escape from Coruscant. The next three years passed quickly, Dirk ran errands for Hax, and his crew. Finally Daniel called Dirk into the cockpit while they were in hyperspace to Nar’Shadaa and sat him in the co-pilot seat. He started teaching him to fly after that, six months later it was to shoot a blaster. He’d gotten the burn scar on his thumb from touching the hot barrel on accident. Dirk smirked at that memory; it was admittedly a good one.
Dirk got out of his shower, toweled off, dressed, and went to the cockpit. He flopped tired into the seat and idly adjusted his instruments panel. He remembered killing his first man… He was fifteen. They’d caught another smuggler floating without fuel in what Daniel fondly referred to as ‘Dead Space.’ He’d hailed them for help, and Daniel had been happy to help over the Comm. But as soon as they docked, Daniel ordered the man bound and his cargo stolen. Then when all was said and done. Daniel ordered Dirk to put a bolt into his face. The order had come out of nowhere, and he’d said it so calmly. Dirk hesitated, the barrel of the gun wavering very slightly.
Daniel calmly drew his own blaster and pointed it at the man on his knees, “Do it or I will, you have until three,” he thumbed the power switch, “One.”
Dirk inhaled sharply and involuntarily his finger tightened a fraction on the trigger.
“Two,” Daniel Exhaled slowly.
His finger kept tightening, he didn’t want it to, but it did. He felt sick to his stomach.
“Three,” He started squeezing the trigger.
Dirk brought the trigger all the way back; his blaster not even on full power still obliterated the man’s face. He couldn’t remember the face, but the hole… The hole that replaced it was burned into his mind forever. He made it to the refresher on Axiom before he threw up in the sink. Afterwards Daniel blasted the ship from existence. Things were skewed after that, Daniel didn’t treat him any worse but his demeanor was different. So was the crew’s. There were more murders, but the one that pushed him to far was when they took a family a family of four hostage. They had caught a yacht out in Dead Space with a broken hyperdrive, and Daniel had repeated his performance. Sure they were rich, and acted like Snivgold, but to be tied up, beaten and thrown in a freezing cargo hold. Dirk was sick inside. He sat on his bed in the Axiom’s crew quarters, blaster in hand, nervous and upset. Ryo, a twi’lek and Daniels right hand crony came in and didn’t see it coming.
Dirk made a split second decision, pointed, and pulled the trigger reducing his mid-section to a smoking ruin. Yelling from the other ship ensued, and heavy foot falls sounded down the way. Dirk hid in the refresher until the person passed by, he came out and pointed the blaster at Selene, dark and beautiful, Daniel’s girlfriend. She was knelt over Ryo’s body blaster hand. She whirled around at the sound of Dirk’s footfall, but he was already squeezing the trigger, three shots when off, one went into her shoulder another into her hip, the last smote a hole into Ryo’s corpse. Dirk didn’t wait for her to fall, something just drove him forward, thinking for him and moving his body. He snatched the blaster from her cooling hand and stuffed into his pants. Then he ran to the ladder and pointed his gun down it, it was clear so he stepped down four rungs and dropped the rest of the way. A noise shifted behind him and a blaster went off, the bolt furrowing into the metal floor to his right. He flinched away and half rolled as he turned around to look. It was Quip, a Bothan. Quip pointed and fired again, the laser exploded next to Dirk’s face, and he felt a searing pain on the left side of his face. Dirk rolled away from the pain and stood, firing randomly with his eyes closed. He stopped and waited a few seconds before finally opening his eyes. Quips legs had been shot out from under him, and a blaster bolt driven through the top of his head.
Dirk was shaking now, the adrenaline overloading his system. But he pressed on, not noticing the blood dripping down his jaw and chin. The trip to the other ship’s cargo hold was short, and uneventful, as he entered it however; he stopped cold and stared. Daniel had executed his prisoners in a violent panic. He stood facing the doorway blaster leveled towards it from his hip. His face, Dirk would never forget it. People don’t usually know that when executing people close and personal even with a blaster, there’s still blow back. Their blood had misted and landed on his face, turning it into a caricature. Emotion rushed through Dirk’s mind, Anger, grief, pity. They stood there eye to eye, for minutes. All Dirk wanted to do was knee cap Daniel and leave him there, crawling around on the deck like the animal he was.
Daniel smirked, and managed to make it look inviting, “I knew you’d turn on me. You’re just like your parents. Weak, they had no stomach.”
“Shut up,” escaped quietly from Dirk’s lips.
Daniel Hax licked his lips, a predator on the prowl, “I knew them you know, both of ‘em. They couldn’t handle it either, heh, ‘cept when they left they didn’t murder my whole crew.”
“You can’t murder a murderer.”
“Sure you can. I did when I killed your par-“
Dirk’s face relaxed a second before he fired, blasting a knee cap from one of Daniel’s legs. He screamed incoherently as he landed on it dropping his blaster, “Shut up.”
“I’ll kill you,” he screamed out, “I’ll hunt you down Reiden,” He tried to stand, and Dirk shot his other knee.
“No you won’t,” Quickly he left the room, and headed for the yacht’s bridge, where he broadcasted a general distress, and hurried back to Axiom once the loading ramp was secured Dirk disengaged the umbilical and put in coordinates for the nearest port, Tatooine, then he went to the refresher to use the med pack.
He’d thought all that business was over, and He’d managed to survive long enough to convince himself so. Dirk folded his hands under his chin; but here he was, eight years later. The ship’s console beeped at him and he leaned across and flipped a few switches. Hyperspace gave way to real space in a less than pleasantly turbulent fashion, and Nar’Shadaa glimmered like a jewel in space. A jewel of corruption, and danger grabbing the flight controls he engaged the sublight engines and sped towards it, a knot growing in his stomach.
When he was ten his parents had disappeared leaving him alone in the lower sectors of Coruscant, he didn’t know what to do, he wandered around for several days, looking for them. He tried begging, but he only ever got beatings or was run off, so he resorted to stealing and he found he was pretty good at it and he carried on for a year. Then one night he’d gotten caught stealing from a rodian gangster’s pocket. He could remember the overbearing sense of something. And then the gangster whirled, Dirk caught a fist in the chest and he fell. He scrambled and ran through the streets, the rodian following closely. It wasn’t a long chase, soon Dirk ran into a dead end alley. He threw the credits on the ground, and apologized to the gangster, but the rodian had other plans. He drew a blaster pistol and pointed it at Dirk, but the shot never came. There was the sound of a blaster being fired, but Dirk never felt the hot explosion of pain. Instead a smoking hole appeared in the rodian’s chest and the Blaster clattered to the ground. He collapsed in a rough pile of crumbled limbs, and behind him stood a man with a smoking barrel.
Dirk came out of his memories and sighed. He stood up and left the workbench, climbing up the ladder and heading for the refresher near the sleeping areas. He undressed and ran cold water over his head, leaning against the wall his thumb caught his attention and he stared at the scar. Dirk remembered everything from that moment, the way the light cast shadows over the upper half of his future “caretaker”, those black boots, chromium buckles on the sides, and dark grey pants.He stepped from the shadows and the multi colors of neon signs showed his face. Strong jaw and chin, long slightly hooked nose, and violent iceberg blue eyes. The lights cast long dark under his eyes and along his sharp cheeks. He wore a black leather flight jacket, and beneath that a white t-shirt. He holstered his pistol in a shoulder holster, and barked a command at the young child.
“Come here.”
Dirk flinched, and stood where he was looking at the dead rodian, scared.
“I said come here,” he yelled.
He was crying now, but tentatively he moved to stand in front of him head down, shoulders scrunched.
The man spoke again, quietly this time, “I am Daniel Hax, and I believe I have just saved your life. Where are your parents?”
“Dead,” Dirk replied solidly.
Hax rubbed his five o’clock shadow, “Do you know what a life debt is?” Dirk simply shook his and Daniel continued on, “It’s what you owe me after I’ve stopped that thug from blasting you to pieces. So let’s go,” He turned and started walking, after a few steps he half turned back to Dirk and said quietly, “I have free food.”
Dirk’s stomach growled angrily at the mention of food, and reluctantly he followed. Daniel led him up a few sectors, to a hanger and there, in a dark corner sat the Axiom. Even then he remembered the hull being a grey red brown patchwork. Daniel fed him and told him he’d keep Dirk around, on the ship with his crew if he would work for him. He let Dirk sleep on the ship, and in the morning Dirk accepted the offer glad for the perceived escape from Coruscant. The next three years passed quickly, Dirk ran errands for Hax, and his crew. Finally Daniel called Dirk into the cockpit while they were in hyperspace to Nar’Shadaa and sat him in the co-pilot seat. He started teaching him to fly after that, six months later it was to shoot a blaster. He’d gotten the burn scar on his thumb from touching the hot barrel on accident. Dirk smirked at that memory; it was admittedly a good one.
Dirk got out of his shower, toweled off, dressed, and went to the cockpit. He flopped tired into the seat and idly adjusted his instruments panel. He remembered killing his first man… He was fifteen. They’d caught another smuggler floating without fuel in what Daniel fondly referred to as ‘Dead Space.’ He’d hailed them for help, and Daniel had been happy to help over the Comm. But as soon as they docked, Daniel ordered the man bound and his cargo stolen. Then when all was said and done. Daniel ordered Dirk to put a bolt into his face. The order had come out of nowhere, and he’d said it so calmly. Dirk hesitated, the barrel of the gun wavering very slightly.
Daniel calmly drew his own blaster and pointed it at the man on his knees, “Do it or I will, you have until three,” he thumbed the power switch, “One.”
Dirk inhaled sharply and involuntarily his finger tightened a fraction on the trigger.
“Two,” Daniel Exhaled slowly.
His finger kept tightening, he didn’t want it to, but it did. He felt sick to his stomach.
“Three,” He started squeezing the trigger.
Dirk brought the trigger all the way back; his blaster not even on full power still obliterated the man’s face. He couldn’t remember the face, but the hole… The hole that replaced it was burned into his mind forever. He made it to the refresher on Axiom before he threw up in the sink. Afterwards Daniel blasted the ship from existence. Things were skewed after that, Daniel didn’t treat him any worse but his demeanor was different. So was the crew’s. There were more murders, but the one that pushed him to far was when they took a family a family of four hostage. They had caught a yacht out in Dead Space with a broken hyperdrive, and Daniel had repeated his performance. Sure they were rich, and acted like Snivgold, but to be tied up, beaten and thrown in a freezing cargo hold. Dirk was sick inside. He sat on his bed in the Axiom’s crew quarters, blaster in hand, nervous and upset. Ryo, a twi’lek and Daniels right hand crony came in and didn’t see it coming.
Dirk made a split second decision, pointed, and pulled the trigger reducing his mid-section to a smoking ruin. Yelling from the other ship ensued, and heavy foot falls sounded down the way. Dirk hid in the refresher until the person passed by, he came out and pointed the blaster at Selene, dark and beautiful, Daniel’s girlfriend. She was knelt over Ryo’s body blaster hand. She whirled around at the sound of Dirk’s footfall, but he was already squeezing the trigger, three shots when off, one went into her shoulder another into her hip, the last smote a hole into Ryo’s corpse. Dirk didn’t wait for her to fall, something just drove him forward, thinking for him and moving his body. He snatched the blaster from her cooling hand and stuffed into his pants. Then he ran to the ladder and pointed his gun down it, it was clear so he stepped down four rungs and dropped the rest of the way. A noise shifted behind him and a blaster went off, the bolt furrowing into the metal floor to his right. He flinched away and half rolled as he turned around to look. It was Quip, a Bothan. Quip pointed and fired again, the laser exploded next to Dirk’s face, and he felt a searing pain on the left side of his face. Dirk rolled away from the pain and stood, firing randomly with his eyes closed. He stopped and waited a few seconds before finally opening his eyes. Quips legs had been shot out from under him, and a blaster bolt driven through the top of his head.
Dirk was shaking now, the adrenaline overloading his system. But he pressed on, not noticing the blood dripping down his jaw and chin. The trip to the other ship’s cargo hold was short, and uneventful, as he entered it however; he stopped cold and stared. Daniel had executed his prisoners in a violent panic. He stood facing the doorway blaster leveled towards it from his hip. His face, Dirk would never forget it. People don’t usually know that when executing people close and personal even with a blaster, there’s still blow back. Their blood had misted and landed on his face, turning it into a caricature. Emotion rushed through Dirk’s mind, Anger, grief, pity. They stood there eye to eye, for minutes. All Dirk wanted to do was knee cap Daniel and leave him there, crawling around on the deck like the animal he was.
Daniel smirked, and managed to make it look inviting, “I knew you’d turn on me. You’re just like your parents. Weak, they had no stomach.”
“Shut up,” escaped quietly from Dirk’s lips.
Daniel Hax licked his lips, a predator on the prowl, “I knew them you know, both of ‘em. They couldn’t handle it either, heh, ‘cept when they left they didn’t murder my whole crew.”
“You can’t murder a murderer.”
“Sure you can. I did when I killed your par-“
Dirk’s face relaxed a second before he fired, blasting a knee cap from one of Daniel’s legs. He screamed incoherently as he landed on it dropping his blaster, “Shut up.”
“I’ll kill you,” he screamed out, “I’ll hunt you down Reiden,” He tried to stand, and Dirk shot his other knee.
“No you won’t,” Quickly he left the room, and headed for the yacht’s bridge, where he broadcasted a general distress, and hurried back to Axiom once the loading ramp was secured Dirk disengaged the umbilical and put in coordinates for the nearest port, Tatooine, then he went to the refresher to use the med pack.
He’d thought all that business was over, and He’d managed to survive long enough to convince himself so. Dirk folded his hands under his chin; but here he was, eight years later. The ship’s console beeped at him and he leaned across and flipped a few switches. Hyperspace gave way to real space in a less than pleasantly turbulent fashion, and Nar’Shadaa glimmered like a jewel in space. A jewel of corruption, and danger grabbing the flight controls he engaged the sublight engines and sped towards it, a knot growing in his stomach.
KILLS: None
BOUNTIES COLLECTED: None
DUELING RING MATCHES: None
GRAND TOURNAMENT MATCHES: None
BOUNTIES COLLECTED: None
DUELING RING MATCHES: None
GRAND TOURNAMENT MATCHES: None
Mai Le- An attractive young woman whom Dirk interacted with in the Paradise Club on Daedalus, even after she let slip that he had a bounty and that the payers name started with a "D", Dirk fled not realizing she was actually a bounty hunter after his head.
Down On Your Luck; [FINISHED]
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