Rajo Sobek
Don't Sweat the Technique
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Name - Rajo Sobek
[Raw-jo,So-Beck]
Nicknames - "Raj" "Ray-Jay" "RJ"
Titles - Cargo Lift Operator, Repo Man, Nuisance
Homeworld - Bonadan
Species - Human
Gender - Male
Age - Mid twenties
Force Sensitive? - Nope!
Job - Enforcer, Hired Gun, Smuggler, Odd-Job Enthusiast, Mechanic
Hair - Brown
Eyes - Blue
Height - 5'10"/1.78m
Weight - 180lbs/81.65kg
Build - Muscular, somewhat toned.
Distinguishing Marks - Neck scar
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Strengths/Weaknesses
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+Grease Monkey - Years tending to hydraulic equipment at the docks have given him some skill with a spanner.
+Determined - Where there's a will, there's a way!
+Brawler - It's nice to settle things the old fashioned way.
+/-Sly - He knows the game, and he's happy to play.
+/-Wary - Being on the wrong end of the rope has taught him a few things.
-Obnoxious - Not the most tactful guy you'll ever meet.
-Arrogant - I'm the best '------' this side of the Galaxy!
-Greedy - You're missing a couple zeroes.
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Biography
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Left as an orphan on the toxic world of Bonadan, Rajo's chances at living through childhood were always slim. Life on the rock was rough for everybody, not to mention those who didn't have anybody to go home to. But, as so many had before him, he struggled on through it all. Everyday he'd go around and look for work, hoping to find a meal among the suited bureaucrats and swaggering spacers that littered the enormous spaceport he called home. He did what little he could; collecting metal for the recycling rewards, sweeping up in front of office buildings and begging for tips... Hell, he'd even rob a few stalls on the way back to the docks on a good day. Point was, life wasn't getting any easier.
He kept on like that for a long time before he got his first real job refueling star ships for a few dozen credits a day. Compared to the dregs he'd come from, it was a whole new chance at life. He didn't mind the constant noise on the pads nor the exhaust fumes that burned away in at his throat whenever he inhaled. The only thing he could think about now was getting out.
Most people would have saved their money, hoping to buy a ticket to some better speck of dust in the sector, but Rajo had no real stomach for such a scrounging life. He gambled with his money. He gambled whenever he could, and although he had his losing nights, he was better than most at the small dives that lined the entertainment districts. Eventually he was earning enough on the job and enough on the side to furnish himself a nice little hole in the wall. First time he'd ever owned a key card. Life went on, and soon he found himself in his late teens with little to show for it all besides a fat lump of credits and a new flashy title at the docks. He was a hydraulic technician now, and the pay was good enough that he could work for the rest of his life and maybe start a family. But who wanted that? He could hardly imagine himself as a father, let alone resigning to a life that would tear his body apart before he ever saw the fruits of his labor. No, he had to get out, and he was ready to go.
Packing what little he owned into an old backpack, he made his way back down to the docks and signed on to this shift just like he always did. He worked through most of the day, choosing his target somewhere around 2nd shift. He took off towards a heavily laden freighter that was beginning to spool its engines and ran up the ramp just as it began to close. He'd done it. He was a stowaway bound for the core.
Fast forward a few years and Rajo's a world away from the slums he'd started out on. The need for muscle in Coruscant's underworld was not lost on him, and now he makes his way working as an enforcer for spice dealers and the Hutts. With an itch for adventure, he's just looking for the next way to rise up.