______________________________________________________________________________ Lyssa Sol D r e i k a s BIOGRAPHY FULL NAME: Senator Lyssiana Sol Dreikas III AGE: 25 SPECIES: Sephi HOMEWORLD: Thrustra FACTION: United Protectorate RANK: Senator ALIGNMENT: Left-leaning FORCE-SENSITIVE: Yes, entirely untrained. HEIGHT: 5"3 WEIGHT: 67 kgs COMPLEXION: Pale Pink HAIR COLOR: Turquoise EYE COLOR: Light Blue STRENGTH: ██████████ DEXTERITY: ██████████ STAMINA: ██████████ INTELLIGENCE: ██████████ WISDOM: ██████████ CHARISMA: ██████████ Being born to a couple of very wealthy philantropists on Thrustra, Lyssiana Sol Dreikas III (or, by her own preference, Lyssa) was always different to the other kids. When she was much younger, the freckled girl with the wild turquoise hair was obsessed with painting, and even from this bubbly young age, the girl excelled in her art, winning several age-restricted painting competitions. When she grew a little bit older, she discovered her passion for computers: honing her slicing skills behind the respective backs of her parents, as she had also developed an intense curiosity to understand the darker side of the HoloNet. And while she was a spectacular artist, she struggled to squeeze time to paint in around an incredibly tight schedule. This struggle became especially tight after her parents pooled the funds to send her to one of the most prestigious private boarding schools in the Imperial Republica: the Academy of Calamar, on Esseles. As a child raised in a family of philanthropists, often more focused on others than themselves, this was the loveliest gift her parents had given ever given her. She would make them proud. During her time there—despite the occasional xenophobic remark about her species, especially her ears—she came to believe that the Sith Empire was truly the greatest power in the galaxy, with none to rival it's dedication to providing peace, security, and order. After her successes in painting and her remarkable educational honours, the teenage Sephi was, despite her species, practically wading through university invitations both on and offworld. Atop them all, she was given the incredibly rare opportunity to move to Coruscant, and attend the prestigious University of Coruscant. For someone born into a life of blessing, Lyssa cared deeply about the poor and the downtrodden of her homeworld (and the rest of the galaxy). This tempted her to return home, to be with her family once more; but the offer from Coruscant was far too valuable to deny. The opportunities it would provide her would be astounding, and perhaps she would be able to truly make a difference if she attended. Once she arrived on Coruscant, she would regularly donate her spare credits to Imperial organisations she believed would make the galaxy a better place. However, she was not entirely convinced of everything the Republica taught. Her impressive slicing skills allowed her anonymous access to some of the shadier parts of the HoloNet—specifically, the DarkNet, as it is sometimes known. She spent much of her time learning of the dark that fills the galaxy, of the struggles of those who live further from the core than she, also learning that life on Imperial worlds her teachers claimed to be prosperous, was far from it. At the time, she dismissed this as a mistake, an unintentional inaccuracy on the part of her education. She would later realise how terribly wrong she was. Alas, she still believed her teachers' tales of the rebel terrorists that were encroaching on Imperial space, the stories of hatred and horror sickening her to her core. This belief inspired her to take up her slicer alias, 051R15 (or "Osiris"), which she hoped use to hunt down rebel terrorists and report their location to the Empire. Lyssa rooted and augmented her personal computer, programming an alternate operating system for her alias to use, making extremely certain she couldn't be tracked, and that her actions would be completely untraceable should the teachers (or anyone else) search her computer. And then, at merely sixteen, she would come home of a night, and dip her feet into the DarkNet, searching for those few rebels coordinating their terror online. Before long, she had immersed herself in it, exploring pages where weapons deals were enacted, and spice was exchanged. Occasionally, she would be lucky enough to find a criminal who was not tech-savvy enough to defend themselves from her viruses, and she would report their activities to the Sith Empire through her pseudoname. Unless there were lives on the line, she doubted she'd ever reveal her identity. Little did she know how everything would change. It was a regular day, not long after she'd turned nineteen, when she finally landed on something big. This was the one. The big one. Her chance to make a real difference in the fight against terror. A rebel terrorist, keeping their identity under wraps, of course, was reaching out to fellow rebels, planning an attack on one of the few surviving Imperial camps on her homeworld of Thrustra. In her most ambitious cyberattack yet, the Sephi claimed to be a fellow rebel, and targeted the terrorist with a virus that, if gone unnoticed, would allow her remote access to all of his communications... and the gamble paid off. But instead of uncovering messages spreading hateful vitriol and bragging about the murders of innocents, as her education had taught her to expect, what she read made her even more sick. The rebel 'terrorist' had his entire family being kept in that camp. The things he had discovered they were doing to them, the things the Empire was doing to innocents in the name of order—there was nothing that would ever be able to erase those images from her mind. No. Lyssa shut down the computer. Unplugged it. She went to sleep numb. After that night, everything changed. The Empire was no longer the home she loved—it was the nightmare she lived. All she could do was watch on as her friends and classmates were fed blatant lie upon lie, powerless to tell them the truth, knowing they would not be able to accept it unless they were confronted with it themselves. Regardless, after hours, under her alias, she delved deeper into the rebel cause, assisting in the slicing operation that would free the rebel's family. The attack was remarkably successful, and the rebels claimed to have retrieved data that was imperative to their cause, as well. For the next few months, her work with the rebellion became all the more prominent, and her alias turned into her life. She constantly had to live in fear of finally being caught, her actions finally being exposed. On one occasion, she found her room completely ransacked, and her personal computer, sliced into. But nothing happened. No punishment. No announcement of her betrayal of the Empire she'd been raised into. Nothing. Until, a few long weeks later, she got word from Thrustra. Her family was gone. Their neighbours said they had completely disappeared overnight. They were nowhere to be found—but Lyssa knew exactly where she'd find them. On the first shuttle back to Thrusta, she hoped and prayed she was wrong. But she wasn't. When she arrived at her old home, the house she was raised in, it was emptied out. Cleaned bare, not a single memory of her old home left in those walls. Running outside, she jumped on her speeder and sped off. She was going to the last Imperial camp on Thrustra. It was a very long ride, and when she arrived, the camp was barren. The Imperials stationed there had since evacuated, perhaps fearing discovery from the Mandalorian occupation. But it was not entirely empty. Lyssa crept in side, begging, pleading to any god above that, somehow, her intuition would be ever so wrong. It wasn't. She found them one by one, skin pale, ears drooped, eyes devoid of life. They lay in puddles of blood. Her father. Mother. Step-brother. Dead. Dead. She wanted to cry, to scream, to burn—but the tears would wouldn't come. All she could do was sit, kneel, lay in cold, numb agony and fill her lungs with hate with every breath. All she could do was remember everything they had, every moment they'd shared, every time she hadn't cared enough. All she could do is imagine them alive again. But they weren't. But they never would be. And then, after an hour of lying next to the bodies of her family members, the tears finally came. They trickled, and then poured, muddying her face with droplets of salty water and swelling her eyes up like a Sullustan. Gusts of anguish and despair and hate and hate towards the monsters who did this, towards the stars themselves that watched on as everything unfolded. That night, she painted the floor with tears and blood. It was not yet the end of her story, however. In some ways, it was just beginning. Though she had only lasted one year at the University of Coruscant, she elected to continue her degree back on her homeworld of Thrustra, snapped up by the Thrustra College of Arts and Sciences. She would take a double degree, majoring in political science and sociology, and over the next four years of her life, she committed herself entirely to her work. This was, in part, an intentional distraction: she had so much work to do that she didn't have the time to mourn. Upon completion of her degree, she came to realise what it was she needed to do. After inheriting her parents' wealth, she was in position to support those far worse off than herself. So, Lyssa permenantly relocated herself to the slums far outside Merydian, and co-founded a non-for-profit organization called the Feed Sephi Foundation. To commemorate it's creation, Sol Dreikas prepared her most comprehensive collection of paintings yet, donating all of the proceeds of her art to the organization. In this time of being Public Representative for the company and selling art, she slowly became a well-known figure on Thrustra. Via her social media accounts and her public speeches, her anti-Imperial views were well known, and as the Sith Empire is highly humanocentric, it was a position held by many, many Sephi on Thrustra, and across the stars. Even before running for the Senate, Lyssa's popularity was blooming: a young intellectual with the guts to speak out against their former oppressors, against those still oppressing countless non-human species in the Core Worlds... To most of the Sephi, their hearts had already been won over. When the United Protectorate's Senate Elections were held on Thrustra, her personal political party, the Free Thrustra Party, won in a landslide victory. While the planet was officially under Mandalorian occupation, Lyssa would approach the Senate as an independent, focused on doing what is right for her people, for the primary inhabitants of Thrustra, the Sephi, more than anything else. PERSONALITY PRACTICAL SKILLS■■■■■ Slicing■■■■■ Survival■■■■■ Tracking■■■■■ Hunting■■■■■ Leadership■■■■■ Invest. COMBAT SKILLS ■■■■■ Blasters■■■■■ Rifles■■■■■ Misc.■■■■■ Demo.■■■■■ H2H■■■■■ Daggers EDUCATION ■■■■■ Huttese■■■■■ Mando'a■■■■■ Twi'leki■■■■■ Tactics■■■■■ Politics■■■■■ Espionage Chaotic Good | INFJ-A "You should have killed me when you had the chance. I am no longer just a girl, just a voice you can silence. I am an idea, the resounding song of the enmity between my people, and monsters like you, who fuel the corruption of the Imperial regime. You cannot kill an idea, no matter how hard you try. But the idea... the idea can kill you." — Lyssa Sol Dreikas, publicly addressing comments made by Imperial-loyal extremists who took credit for the deaths of her parents, prior to her election into the United Protectorate. If ever there were a being on Thrustra who was truly kind, it was Lyssiana Sol Dreikas. She refused to let the agony of losing her family turn her heart cold, and she refused to do what the Empire thought and hoped she would—roll over and die. She is humble, yet proud of her people, the Sephi. She is calm, yet fiery, passionate about exposing corruption in both the Sith Empire and among the Mandalorians. She is devoted to making the galaxy better for everyone, no matter the cost for her. She is quiet, yet loud and firm when she needs to be. She is cautious, yet takes risks if she believes them to be worth it. She is rebellious, yet seeks harmony between her and her enemies, for the good of the galaxy. Although the Mandalorians only recently occuppied Thrustra, among her favouritre sayings is the common Mandolorian proverb: We don't have a word for hero. Being prepared to die for your family and friends, or what you hold dear, is a basic requirement for a Mando, so it's not worth a separate word. It's only cowards we had to find a special name for. And while she is no warrior on the battlefront, she fights battles with her words, her charisma, and her fearlessness in the face of oppressive regimes, in the Senate. LEGACY GEARShip—Personal Couronne-class Shuttle THREAD NAME AND URL — Thread sypnosis.