Jett De'Lena

[Cassanova]

FULL NAME: Jett De’Lena

AGE: 29
SPECIES: Human
GENDER: Male

FACTION: Independant
Rank: Unapplicable

HEIGHT: 5’10
WEIGHT: 176

HAIR COLOR: Brown
EYE COLOR: Blue

FORCE SENSITIVITY: No​

”Wrong place. Wrong time.“

Moments occur for a reason. Occasionally they can be the direct result of one’s own actions. Sometimes the actions of others. Sometimes it just plain dumb luck. And in the case of Jett De’Lena, it was a severe lack of it. De’Lena was a typically law-abiding citizen. Paid his taxes, followed the rules - on occasion took the speeder a bit fast around a corner, but certainly nothing that would lead him into the life that he would eventually lead.

Standing at an average height with a ‘less than heroic’ build, Jett was often overlooked for the physically demanding jobs afforded to many men in the security business. As a result he often wound up being left with the less exciting, and far less rewarding positions. “Guarding key areas of cultural and historical significance,” was the line used to make Jett and men like him feel better about guarding what is essentially a statue, monument, or some completely unimportant relic from a time gone by. Security operations officer was the title on the contract. The galaxy knows better. Jett De’Lena was a rent-a-cop.

Or at least he was…

Days go by without incident in Jett’s line of work. The most difficult situation is usually presented by a language or cultural barrier leaving Jett and his colleagues struggling to instruct a tourist to dismount from some “culturally and historically significant” piece of crap that no one actually cares about. That, of course, is until things go completely awry. Jett had been doing his job well for years, although lacking the qualification that was a prerequisite for promotion - and lacking the time or money needed to gain it, he was stagnating in his job. The pay was good enough, but he definitely spent his time merely going through the motions of his job. It was that predictability that proved to be his undoing.

Unsavoury types took note of Jett’s schedule, roster, and routines. He became a target to be set up as a patsy - a fall guy, for a much bigger operation. The thick and thin of it is that Jett was arrested, charged and sentenced to three years imprisonment in the outer rim for aiding and abetting, grand larceny and dereliction of duty in the civil service. All in all, he got off quite lightly as to his sentence. But being innocent, Jett found it hard to come to terms with his three year imprisonment in an internment camp on Tatooine.

Days were rough, scorchingly hot, and filled with all the petty posturing that one expects from the scum and criminals that were at the bottom of the food chain - brawling for scraps of food, respect, power, and above all - the opportunity to leave. Most wanted to leave to continue doing what they were doing; fighting, killing, stealing. Jett wanted to just build himself a life and get some direction again. A challenge that would be far greater than he ever realised.

Three years had passed, and Jett had largely escaped his imprisonment unscathed. A few scars, and a broken rib were the worst of it. What he did learn, however, was far more valuable to him. Despite being innocent from the start; Jett had a black mark on his name. Months of trying saw De’Lena rejected from anyone and everything resembling legitimate business. Personal bodyguards, rent-a-cops, even local security enlistment: No one would touch him. This was all on Tatooine, so legitimate business was hard enough to come by. Leaving the sandy world wasn’t an option - his accounts had been eaten away by fees and unpaid interest on loans.

So with nothing to his name, and nothing to lose, Jett De’Lena did the only thing he could do.

Walking into the second most dodgy bar in town, and finding the second or third biggest guy in the building, Jett started a fight. Punches, kicks, bites, bottles, stools and other patrons were all used to one up one another, ultimately leaving both men sprawled in a beaten, bruised mess on the floor. What Jett wanted, however, was attention. Someone who would see that the five foot, ten inch tall man was able to hold his own against someone much larger, much rougher, and far more accustomed to a fight. Attention was exactly what he got. It came in the form of three men beating Jett to within an inch of his life as recompense for debilitating one of their best security operatives. That was the stick.

The carrot came in form of a job offer as a contractor. A job-by-job deal with Czerka Corporation. It provided Jett with the basics, a gun, some clothes, and a signing fee of a few hundred credits. It wasn’t much, but it was a start…

Roleplays​

• N/A

 

[Zay]

Well, I'm excited for this.

 

[Lucid]

Hullo.

 

[Bee]

Poop.

 

[Nor'baal]

Hi.