Chalacta
Her head was throbbing, and she thought she was seeing doubles. However, she didn’t put the drink down, finishing off the glass of whiskey while she puffed on her cigarra. She felt like a ghost instead of a person, an imprint that barely existed in the present day where she truly died a long time ago with her son. And yet, she was cursed to carry on and linger. Forced to attend the grave sites of Talak, Hans, Vera, Crix and everyone else she held dear. The Eternal having killed her decades back would have been a mercy.
She spent the last few years throwing herself at danger, but she always made it out alive. If there was such things as fate and luck, they were especially cruel to her. Trys kept a low profile, drifting from planet to planet to solve cases off the books. She had long since retired from the Rangers, losing her appetite for any kind of real career with the death of her son. Nowadays she picked up oddjobs just to get by, reverting back to her poverty-stricken days before she joined the forces.
She was in a rundown cantina, sitting in the corner and reading the news about the locals. There were a series of murders taking place that sounded entirely similar to someone she had put away ten years back. She didn’t have access to the Ranger system so she couldn’t look up the exact status of that prisoner. This very well could be a copy cat, but the methodical way of killing piqued her interest enough to make it out to Chalacta.
Trys had no jurisdiction here, so the most she could do was some vigilante sleuthing. But at least that beat her drinking herself into a stupor again…
@Raydo