Galactic Archives ~ Profile: Sskveesh

[Sskveesh]

Name: Sskveesh
Race: Trandoshan
Age: 25 Standard Years
Sex: Male
Homeworld: Trandosha
Profession: Mercenary/Bounty Hunter

Height: 6' 0''
Weight: 180 lbs

Appearance:
Sskveesh's skin is a lovely red hue with black stripes that streak from the corners of his eyes down to his hind claws. His body is fairly lean, as is traditional of most of his race, and covered from head to toe with scales. On each hand he has three fingers and a thumb with black claws. His eyes are a brilliant violet hue.

Ship:
Lancer-class pursuit craft ~ Sskahra’s Smile

Weapons of choice:
Valken-38 Carbine Sniper Rifle
Slavemaster Stun Carbine
Chalon Trandoshan Machete
Red Lightsaber - short saber - UNTRAINED

Known Force Powers:
Force Speed
Force Jump
Force Sight

History:
==The following information was collected from multiple sources. Only reliable/confirmed information is posted here, and may require redaction==
Sskveesh was born on Trandosha in the cave traditionally belonging to the Sharpscale clan. The Sharpscales were an obscure family line whittled down in number over the years to one family group. Trandosha is a harsh place to be born, made even more harsh by the practices of the reptilian populace. Sskahra had a clutch of four, and loved each and every one of them. The new mother also saw the writing on the wall, and knew for the Sharpscale clan to expand and avoid disaster, she had to foster some form of comradery amongst her spawn and suppress their potential violent tendencies at birth. Sskowl, the last remaining Sharpscale patriarch, was a traditionalist and held his tongue. Even amongst the brutal Trandoshans, there was a sense of the old saying ‘happy wife, happy life.’ Sskowl was also an older male, only recently taking Sskahra for his own. He considered it best to pick and choose his battles, for domestic disputes on Trandosha usually led to a grave.

Thus, Sskveesh’s eruption into the world was fairly relaxed and without issue. He and his siblings were prepared for their familial occupation, which was hunting. From an early age they were trained on the classic Charon blade with no holds barred. While most races amongst the galaxy had switched to Vibroblades, Trandoshans, especially the Sharpscales, preferred the hand-made customary blades of old. Often limbs were lost under Sskowl’s tutelage, and drastic punishments followed paired with the pain and embarrassment of having to regrow what was lost. This was to instill a healthy respect and fear of the Trandoshan deity: the Scorekeeper. All of the Sharpscales for decades worshipped the hunting Goddess to the point of being zealots. Each and every skill impressed in their brains was for the sole purpose of obtaining Jaggannath Points.

Sskveesh was not the largest of his siblings. In fact, he was considered the runt of the brood, but Sskahra wished for success of each of the clutch and made sure all four of them were trained effectively. What he lacked in brawn and pure size, he made up for in unusual ways. He had keen senses, and always seemed to have an excellent sense of where his targets would be. Over the years, these senses even rivalled that of his parents, which had not gone unnoticed by his mother. He also could force himself to be the quickest of the four Sharpscale children for short periods of time by a considerable margin. He used these to get the edge in some of the hunts and try to make a name for himself. What he lacked in brawn and muscles he made up for with his brain. Their father scoffed at these traits of what he called his weakest child, but Sskahra used the opportunity to foster these particular talents. As a result, they formed a close bond. Sskveesh hunted their meals in the jungles of Trandosha not just for Jaggannath points, but for the smile that signaled the approval of his mother.

Unfortunately, this militaristic, carefree upbringing would not last forever. Sskahra was not just a mother, but a hunter in her own right. She took on a huge job for a huge reward, and ended up failing. She sought out a target amongst the chaos of the changes in the Force and power struggles of the galaxy, thinking that she could slip in and eliminate her bounty unnoticed. The risks were high, but being a one family group clan had led them to a perilous position, and her desperation to provide as well as gain favor amongst the other Trandoshan clans for potential pairings for her brood made it a necessary risk. As can happen on a hunt, the prey can outmatch the predator. Sskahra’s body was identified and news reached the ears of the Sharpscale clan back on Trandosha. Sskveesh wanted to weep for his mother, but he was not given the chance. Now that Sskowl’s opinions were unopposed, he could run the clan how he wished.

The main reason that the Sharpscale clan had depleted over the years was their blind devotion to the Scorekeeper and their love of traditional Trandoshan practices. Sskowl brought his four children together and not only informed them of their mother’s demise, but that the culling that Sskahra prevented at their birth would happen today. While not a religious tenet, the Sharpscales typically only raised one child per clutch, the remainder having been slaughtered at birth. Sskowl was a fair man, and decided that since all four had received some training, he would let the strongest survive. In an instant, Sskveesh turned to see his eldest brother, a thick but stupid Trandoshan, snapping the neck of their sister. It was clear that his brother had been prepared for this day, for Sskowl only valued strength. The chosen one then turned his eyes on the remaining two siblings. While their other brother hissed and prepared for battle, Sskveesh made an entirely other decision. His mother’s words had echoed in his brain, telling him never to take a job beyond his abilities, and that he was no good to the Scorekeeper dead. Thus, he fled the cave, and disappeared into the jungle. Sskowl and his chosen son stepped from the cave covered in the blood of the dead siblings, and laughed watching them go. They called after him that he had been zeroed and banished him from the clan.

Being zeroed was not just a taunt from the rapidly disappearing family that Sskveesh had known his entire life. Amongst the worshippers of the Scorekeeper, if one was shamed or captured during a hunt, they lost all of their Jagganath points. Considering that Sskowl had essentially made the battle royale a hunt, Sskveesh lost what few points he had as a child to his brother. Although he was only ten standard years old, he was now considered an exile and an outcast. Things would only worsen the more his ‘kin’ spread the word of his failure. There would be no love or support amongst the jungles of Trandosha anymore. Sskveesh would have to make up a life for himself somewhere else.

Thus, the young Trandoshan found himself amongst one of the ports of Hsskor, trying to find himself passage off of the planet. Sskveesh didn’t have any prayer of joining a Trandoshan troupe due to his social status, and would have to roll the dice with visiting traders or mercs needing an extra body. He picked out a trio of humanoids outside one of the local cantinas. Unfortunately, the group that he took a gamble with were little more than bandits and were more interested in the young reptilian’s pocket money than a new addition. While one of them distracted him with job details, another stepped up, prepared to cudgel the child’s skull. Using his heightened senses, Sskveesh felt the blow coming long before it actually did and dodged. Abandoning the pretense of benevolence, the trio went after him with bloodthirsty abandon. Sskveesh dashed forward and headbutted the Quarren he was talking to in the solar plexus, winding him and sending him down. The Zabrak took a shot at him with a blaster, which Sskveesh dodged by jumping up and grabbing onto the pipes of the cantina ceiling. He then tackled the man with the cudgel by falling from the rafters, sending the two sprawling. The Zabrak took the opportunity to slam Sskveesh in the back of the head with the butt of the blaster.

“Tough luck, kid.”

The Zabrak wore a grin as he aimed the blaster at the dazed Trandoshan’s head. Sskveesh closed his eyes, knowing there was no way out of it. The noise he heard was not blaster fire, but instead a crackling whoosh and a large thud. Sskveesh peeked from behind his closed eyelids and saw the Zabrak’s head rolling on the ground. The young Trandoshan looked up into the face of a gaunt, old man holding an orange lightsaber. He had, of course, heard of these before and the mystical wielders of them. The old man held out a hand and spoke with a commanding authority.

“Come.”

With nothing else to lose amongst two passed out thugs and a dead Zabrak, Sskveesh followed the man to his ship. The old man pointed at what appeared to be a rather old Lancer class, with black and orange coloring.

“Can you fly this?”

Sskveesh had not been trained in intergalactic travel as of yet and abashedly shook his head.

“No, ssir…”

The old man merely scoffed and opened the hatch.

“…Yet.”

During the trip off-planet, the old man explained the situation. He had been observing from the bar after a recent streak of bad luck and picked up on the boy’s talents. The old man explained he had a keen eye for talent, and saw that Sskveesh was no ordinary Trandoshan. Even Sskveesh knew he probably shouldn’t have lived through that fight and tried to explain it as his hunting talents. The old man denied Sskvesh’s claims, but kept his own thoughts close to the chest. When Sskveesh asked if the man was a jedi, he laughed aloud and replied with one simple word.

“No.”

Confused, Sskveesh asked.

“W..well, what shall I call you then, Old One?”

The old man laughed again and stated that would be sufficient. Sskveesh understood little of what was going on and what the man was babbling about, but to him the decision was clear. This Old One had interfered in the mugging and saved his life by decapitating a foe. Therefore, he swore a life debt to the man. This was a common practice amongst Trandoshans and Wookies, and the traditionalists of both species took that very seriously. Sskveesh was no exception.

Over the next several years, Sskveesh trained under the tutelage of the Old One. He expounded on his basic hunting skills by learning weaponry, how to fly a ship, and military tactics. Sskveesh’s enhanced Sight gave him a particular proclivity for sniping. However, the Old One discouraged joining any regular army or military force. This confused the Trandoshan, but he held his tongue, knowing he had no reason to argue. As time went on, the old man eventually opened up to his young ward, explaining his own military past and how it brought him to ruin. The old man stated he used to belong to what was known as the Sith order, and that Sskveesh’s particular skillset would allow him better success if he learned to work alone.

Sskveesh bitterly rejected this for a time, stating he had no business being a hunter considering he was zeroed. The Old One had been unusually versed in Trandoshan religion, and had explained that technically no hunt had taken place at the time, thus he had never been zeroed in the eyes of the Scorekeeper. A brutal battle royale and culling was clan business, not religious business. Even if he had, the old man explained that being zeroed at so young was irrelevant, for he had his entire life to recover points. This gave Sskveesh a new outlook on life. He remembered the good times hunting with Sskahra once more, and immersed himself again in the glory of the Scorekeeper’s hunt. Sskveesh never even received proper Force training, as the Old One stated his own connection to the course was fractured at best, but this didn’t bother him much. He loved the life of a hunter and was satisfied with it. Still, this new found lease on life did not erase the years hatred and thirst for revenge against the family that drove him from his home. The Old One did not want to stop him, and encouraged him to embrace these feelings. He loaned Skveesh his Lancer-class ship the Raven’s Claw, and bid him good luck.

Skveesh, now twenty standard years of age, returned to Trandosha for the first time. Wasting not a single moment, he headed right for the cave dwelling he was born in, and found it in complete ruin. Some of the local Trandoshans explained that Sskowl no longer lived there, nor anywhere for that matter. It appeared that eventually Sskveesh’s brother devoured the hand that fed him and killed their father. His brother had set up shop on Dathomir. One flight later, and he found his brother’s bones. His idiot brother figured the local Rancors would keep away rivals, but didn’t realize that they could feast on him as well. His revenge was moot. Disappointed, he returned to his ghrakhowsk, who did not share in his ward’s failure. He explained that vengeance was a good feeling and not something to shy away from, but also said this showed that vengeance was not something worth obsessing and spending your life over. Sskveesh took this lesson to heart. The Old One began coughing up blood into his hand, and although the Trandoshan became immediately concerned, explained that he had but one more lesson to impart now that he could complete hunts on his own.

The Old One passed shortly after, bizarrely fading away into nothing. He took the old man’s blackened cloth armor and buried it on Tatooine as was instructed by him. He had nearly come to blows with the Tusken Raiders that lived at the site, but found that some of them could even understand his words. He created the grave and inscribed his own transcription.

‘Stormcrow: Sith Lord and honored Ghakhowsk,’

Skveesh looked at what he had left: an old ship, and two old lightsabers, an orange long one and a red short one, that he wasn’t trained with, and a particular set of skills. He would honor his ghrakhowsk’s wishes for him, and be the hunter that he and his mother had always wanted to be. The Trandoshan renamed the ship after his mother and began his solo career. Five years later, he had his Old One’s training, his goddess’s blessing, and his mother’s smile. Only time what tell what rewards he would reap in the future…

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Avatar picture courtesy of krillatron on DeviantArt