Six-O
The Pan-Galactic Scumbag
Name: Boon
Alias: "Big Boo"
Loyalties: Six-O free of charge, any person or faction for a price
Role: Smuggler, Black Marketeer, In-Depth Knowledge of Illicit Trading
Age: 41
Species: Cantrosian
Development Threads: If Needed
Appearance: He stands short of stature, scraping the sky a mere 80 centimeters. Both face and head are pleasingly round, his snout blunt and perfectly symmetrical. Atop plump head two triangle ears lofted, motored by a number of muscles, they pivoted independently, cupping even the faintest sound from air. His eyes were gone, lost years prior, in their place rest two bulbous, oversized, ocular implants. They were stylishly retro, but clearly designed for a larger creature than he. From small fingers he bore retractable claws, natural weapons from the evolutionary past of his ancestors, but in the Galaxy at large they were woefully ineffective. His body was both muscular and burly, ended by a swaying tail. In the wonderful warm sun, his coat of Blue-Grey fur did shimmer, it was impeccably maintained, silken to the touch.
Personality: Big Boo did posses a truly gifted mind, almost incomprehensibly supernatural one might say. If you needed the down low on any number of illicit goods he was the friend you wanted. He knew factional territories, their laws, supply and the demand therein. He knew prices, spices and weapons. Ore, Fabric, Leather. Animals and Sentients. Slaves and Call Girls. A smooth kind of cat that used his almost toxic, mindbogglingly, cute appearance to full benefit. But he indeed was not without a fair share of faults that could really harsh out your most groovy mellow. Curiosity was a foul mistress, shiny baubles a brooding vitiation. Both a terrible gambler and horrible negotiator. . . which given his occupation was somewhat of an anomaly. Infamously he is known for having traded a substantial shipment of Phrik Alloy to a Client for a lifetime membership card for free food at Yum Bunnies, and a number of nostalgic button pins.
Force Sensitivity: Latent Force Sensitivity, untrained. Manifests in reflexes and memory skills
Weapon of Choice: Appearance, Wits, Six-O
Skills: Mass Consumption, Underworld Knowledge, has mastered the art of the Tactical Retreat, Revenge
Wealth: Fluctuates like the restless sea
Combat Function: Slick talker, that attempts to disarm you with fetchingly strapping looks and nonthreatening presence. When all else fails he is wickedly fast and highly attentive to his surroundings. Does not engage in fights he cannot escape, or combat without a more capable companion
Notable Possessions: Ocular Implants with typical vision enhancement options, Lifetime Free Eats Card to Yum Bunnies, a sick pin collection, various VIP Badges for Shadow Port and Galactic Clubs, and Cantinas. A sprawling beach side pad on Zeltron and a Grand Casino Suite on Nar Shaddaa
History: On Cantros 7, only two types of individuals were born. Prey, or Hunters. When your evolutionary make-up shaft you with the short end of the stick those were the only choices. Boon knew from his youngest memories he wasn't going to spend his life being prey. So no sooner than he was able, the Cantrosian took to the stars.
But man, as it turns out, the Galaxy is a far larger thing than he had ever imagined. Being a Hunter needed to be something more improvised, more, his size.
Not nine months after abandoning his home world and he'd already nearly met death twice. The second costing him his eyes at a Cantina in one of the domed cities of Varl from a stranger that merely hated the feline pupils that deign a look in his direction. It was from here the young felinoid met the ancient Droid, Six-O.
When you thumb someones eyes out and leave them for dead, you'd be surprised how deeply their face is burned in to the recesses of your memory. No sooner than the implantation of his new viewing goggles did the young Cantrosian set out to reap revenge. This came in the form of a contract.
Together with the Droid they hunted, Six-O his muscle. Clear across the Galactic Disc the search spanned. Shadow Ports, Seedy Dives, Slave Pits and Hutt Palaces. In the interim, against all odds, the small creature and the Droid developed a type of working friendship. If friendship meant the ample plying of credits to pocket. Something Boon turned out to be quite good at, while somehow also being equally bad at it. . .
Knowledge grew deeper, contacts were made, credits earned and lost. Until finally they had found the man. Ten years it had taken. Ten years of planning, lusting with fantasy, counting the days that passed with such eager anticipation. Torture would be a kinder word to describe what Boon and Six-O did to this man. From there on, the Cantrosian became known as Big Boo.
It was also, in the absence of his Droid companion, that Big Boo learned he was better suited for the smooth maneuvering of syllables, illicit goods and maintaining one hell of a coat of fur. Sure, they may be bigger, stronger, more fierce. But he was a clever kind of cat. Strong of wit, easily learned with numbers. A memory like a Droid one could joke.
It also turns out you don't need to be of vulgar ferocity when you can broker that black information. Those whispers of clandestine goods and services that everyone knew was happening. He became the guy that was the friend of a friend who heard from his third cousins brother-in-law.
He's been that ever since. Dividing his time rather lavishly around the Galaxy, or in his Zeltron home with frequent forays to his chill pad on that Little Coruscant, Nar Shaddaa.
Intent: Just an NPC to use randomly for threads as a collaborator of Six-O, or with any other RP'er that may want to utilize him.
Image Source: Zazzle
