Slick Handsome Tenacious Slippery Bothan Smuggler Scoundrel

Wanted For:

1. Sold Out his Family to Collect on Multiple Bounties
2. Has Smuggled Fugitives of Interest Past Imperial Blockades
3. Impersonating an Imperial Official

If He Got the Big Score He Would:

Start his own cartel.


Early Life:

Family Affair:

Bounty Trouble:

The plangent music was blaring out of speakers throughout the entire building. The live band, The Astro Cantus, rocked the stage and their live dancers performed acrobatic feats whilst dancing to the beat and groove of the music behind them. The traveling group may as well have put a greedy trance among the patrons for they were lining up to throw exuberant amounts of their hard earned credits atop the performing musician and dancer platforms accordingly. The Bith behind the bar slammed a drink down his gullet, and filled up four glasses before sending them off to waving hands at the end of the bar, each bar-goer catching their slightly spilled drinks. With merriment in the air, they collectively disregarded the liquid mess, feeding off of the scene and life of the bar. The seating area was spotted with aliens, some in groups of two, three, even four or five, and others alone with their drinks or datapads, just focused on whatever thought in their mind or task at hand. In the back was Djisso the Bothan, sitting in the only dim corner, and all was well.

After systematically configuring a way to view the entire cantina before him without having to worry about watching his back, a paranoia the short man would deal with for the rest of his life, he could finally relax to an extent, well to the largest degree that he would let himself. The Bothan surveyed his surroundings, and found nothing out of the ordinary. A small brawl broke out near the bar, probably over some spilled Corellian Ale or lack of manners, something Djisso wouldn’t take care to entertain. What he would amuse himself with is the towering figure of a well-armored Trandoshan heading for the rear of the structure. The Bothan readied his wits before slowly unstrapping his blaster from its holster. Returning one hand to his knee, and the other back to his beverage, he readjusted himself in his settle, anticipating the giant of a humanoid to approach him. After a few moments, the Trandoshan wielded his blaster rifle with both of his scaled three clawed hands, blaster barrel pointing southwest, as he walked up to the Bothan and spoke in a rugged voice, emphasizing on the “s” sounds each time they came out of his mouth, “So…You must be Djisso.”

The Bothan examined the alien ahead of him, and could at this point see the smoldering amber glow of his eyes, split by his horizontal ebony pupils. His eyes traveled to the telescopic scope and underslung barrel of his blaster rifle, before returning to the hulking reptilian humanoid. He had ended his words with a toothy grin, as if he had just found his first meal after traveling across the deserts of Tatooine for days on end. The seated man retorted, “Djis…so? I…don’t know who that is. Name’s Utric Sandov. And you?” Deceived.

The Trandoshan’s facial expression, from what the Bothan could tell, grew a thought. “Utric?” said the Trandoshan inquisitively before removing one of his hands from his rifle, and bringing a handheld holoprojector out from his pocket, pressing a button in with one of his claws, and revealing a blue silhouette of a hologram, showing the elfin frame of a Bothan before them both. The Trandoshan snarled, unable to tell the difference between the two, and amounting it all to misfortune, “Ahhhh. All you Bothans look alike. If this was just a bounty, I’m sure whoever it was for wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference, but this is more than just a bounty.” The man paused in dialogue, “Utric, eh? You’ve got people looking for you, too. If I wasn’t so preoccupied, I might’ve just collected on your head out of convenience. It’s your lucky day, I guess.”

The Bothan brushed off the remark. “Look. Maybe it is my lucky day. Tell me about this query, for some coin, maybe I can track him down for you, you know, uh, help me help you. I trail this Bothan to assemble every piece of information you desire and in return you explain this bounty on my head, and with some new credits I can get off world, and disappear. Help me. Help you.” And all was well.

The Trandoshan licked his thin squamous lips, “Wretched little thing you are, I like it. What would you charge for your…services, Bothan?”
Showing off a snide smirk, revealing a golden tooth while simultaneously raising an eyebrow before speaking again, “600 credits. Up front. You give me a solid day and night, and we will meet here once more at the same time as now and I’ll have a datapad with all of the information you’ll need to find this Bothan, and as collateral if I don’t show up, you know what planet I’m on, so you call your hunter friends and bring me into whatever office you’d like with my head on a stake.” Growling, the Trandoshan, squinted his eyes and his scales centered in his forehead. Something equivalent to what Djisso has seen in the Human species when they became angry, and the hair above their eyes centered on their ugly symmetrical faces. The reptilian alien answered the Bothan’s offer, “400. And I won’t decide to collect on you after, you little fur ball,” he said. Djisso had been counting on the Trandoshan to try and undercut him. He shifted his gaze behind the Trandoshan, to ensure from what he could view that no wandering eyes had trained themselves on their conversation happening in this corner. He would take a mental note that by now the brawl and it’s after effects have subsided. All was well.

“500, or no deal. You need me for this, and I need you. I’d normally charge more, yes I am that good, but you tipped me off on the bounty. I am a fair man.” The facial expression on the Trandoshan transformed into a bemused look of bewilderment, and then a stint of aggression as he slammed down 500 credits onto the table—, the chits smashed and danced about on the table. “Deal,” the giant of a man roared, “I’ll remember that scar on your nose. Scorekeeper help you if you get caught, I’d be keen to track you down myself and rip my credits from your cold dead hands if I have to. This corner tomorrow, same time meaning sun down, bring the datapad of ALL the informations I require or else.” The Trandoshan wet his lips again, and showed off the familiar savory simper. The Bothan shrugged, and winked at him, “Well, that’s the real trick, isn’t it?” Turning around, the humanoid began to walk away, his head moving from side to side to reanalyze the building and its sponsors, as paranoid as Djisso. Slipping his hand to his blaster and drawing it, he gestured to level it upwards before his onyx eyes now taking aim at the hunter’s back. Djisso swiftly separated two of his blaster bolts into the Trandoshan’s back in one motion. The bolts seared the tunic, and then the bounty hunter’s scaled skin, leaving behind craters of smoke and dead nerves, cauterized quickly with the laser ammunition’s heat.

The reptilian man’s eyes broadened in revelation. The blaster releases laser ammunition cauterizing both wounds briskly. The sonorous music playing from The Astro Cantus came to a halt, and a few of the customers gasped in the still and silent air. The alien’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he sunk to his knees, and then the floor in a crashing thud that didn’t echo through the silence, but surely may as well have resonated out of the speaker systems throughout the plenary tavern. Slowly, Djisso stood from his settle, placed the multitude of credits in his left pocket, and stepped over the charred corpse he would abandon. Walking over to the Bith behind the bar, he tossed him 20 credits, “Sorry about the mess,” He said. In retaliation, the yellow skinned alien remained inaudible as he snatched the credit chit in mid-air, dipping his rounded head to avoid Djisso’s eyes. From there, Djisso stalked in between mute patrons, though he could hear those farther away whispering, and vacated the cantina, door connecting to close behind him. As soon as the door shut, the melodious resonance of music sprang to life and chatter sounded out from behind him. All was well.

A Scoundrel’s Trust:

Labor On The Fringe:

Escaping Nal Hutta:

Bounty Trouble ll:

Ole Ties:



Star Wars the Age of Cartels fimarach Djallo