Name: Arlin Preethe ( R-lin Pre-th )
Homeworld: Corellia
Born: 19 BBY

Species: Human
Height: 6'1
Weight: 168 lbs
Physique: Athletic
Hair color: Blonde
Eye color: Blue

Affiliation: ArPree Syndicated/Neutral
Rank: Founder
Occupation: Bounty Hunter

Suit information:
Head - Air filter, Voice distortion device, Infrared vision, Integrated comm-link
Left arm - Shoulder/upper forearm plate that slides up/down for maneuverability, extendable wrist blade
Right arm - Removed, replaced with DWP (Dynamic weapons platform)
Torso - Air vents, heavier plate armor
Legs - Magnetic boots (Activateable), blaster pistol holster within left outer thigh plate
Back - Ammo drum, Repulsorlift pack (allows for faster ground travel or bursts to reach higher ground)
Armor - Thick, flame retardant fabric beneath connected blast-resistant metal plates
Weaponry (DWP) - Automatic slugthrower, miniature concussion rocket launcher, sniper rifle (energy)

Ship information - Strife

Size - 35 meters
Weaponry - Dual quad laser turrets, Quad concussion missile launchers (6 missiles each)
Consumables - 2 weeks
Misc - Cells designed for prisoner containment within, heavy sensory equipment, solar panels for emergency power

Added (14 Feb 2009, 10:33 Am)
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Personal Background

Arlin was born on Corellia to Jerec and Erica Preethe ~19 BBY. Originally, Jerec worked for CorSec as an officer while Erica
stayed home and tended to the home and to Arlin. Growing up in a suburban town with nothing to do started irritating Arlin in his
early teens. As a result, he skipped school regularly, got in trouble with the local police weekly and generally caused mayhem in
his neighborhood.

His father noticed that Arlin had misplaced ambition and decided to bring him to work during a night shift at
CorSec. Unbeknownst to Jerec, a senator would be passing through his sector that night and he was stuck watching Arlin.
As the senator passed through the security checkpoint, Jerec stepped back into the shack, only to be flung against the wall by an
explosion outside the building. He grabbed his blaster rifle, bolted outside and began barking orders into his comm-link the
moment he saw the mangled remains of the senators vehicle. Arlin stood behind his father, gawking at the pile of twisted, flaming
metal. A figure using some sort of jetpack dropped down next to the remains, immediatly turning to Jerec, who was already spraying
blaster bolts in his direction. One of the bolts landed, striking the man in the shoulder with enough force to knock him
backwards. But as he fell, he raised a blaster pistol and fired once, piercing Jerecs stomach. Groaning, Jerec slumped backwards
onto Arlin, both of them falling to the ground. Arlin slipped into unconciousness momentarily.

He woke up a few seconds later, alerted by the sound of distant sirens from above. In a panic, he grabbed for the blaster rifle
still clutched in his fathers hand, angled it towards the man who killed his father, who was now yelling into a small device with
his face mask up, and tugged back on the trigger, landing a bolt directly into his chin. His lifeless body collapsed to the ground
and Arlin could hear someone yelling for him on the comm-link. Disoriented and shaking from the excitement, he lifted the blaster
rifle and took off running, away from the still burning remains of the senators vehicles and from his fathers dead body.
Several CorSec vehicles surrounded him, sirens blaring, pistols fixed on him. Still in shock from the recent events, he
instinctively started firing on the closest officer, hitting him atleast twice before a single bolt hit him in the chest.
Consciousness slipped away again and the last thing he sees is a CorSec medic dragging him onto a stretcher.

Several days later, he woke up on a bed in the local hospital, a droid checking his vitals. At first, everything seemed normal, but a searing pain
crept through his shoulder and into his neck. Looking over, he saw that his arm was completely gone and all that was left was a
scarred stub. To his surprise, he felt nothing anymore, nothing but apathy. His arm was gone, his father was gone, he took a life
and probably put a CorSec officer in the hospital for a week. Arlin closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep, hoping
that it was all just a nightmare.

Over the course of the next few days, a CorSec officer would come into his room and explain what had happened and that he had
killed an officer out of panic and that he should be happy he'll only be spending 10-15 years in prison because he's still young.
None of this bothered him, he turned and closed his eyes until the officer departed. The following day, a lawyer came in and
explained that he would be inheriting the house and life savings of both his father and mother. Apparently, his mother had killed
herself once she learned what happened. Too much had happened in the last week for him to say anything, he turned his head and
forced his eyes shut as tears burned down his cheeks. After a few weeks of physical therapy, he was escorted to a medium security
prison.

15 years later...

Arlin was shoved through the front gate of the prison by a guard. All he had in his possession was an orange jumpsuit, a bank
account number and address scribbled onto a piece of paper and the papers to his deceased parents house. His first stop was at a
diner for a Bantha burger. While he waited for it, he recollected his memories from that night and began sketching the armor the
man was wearing. After scarfing the Bantha burger down, he left for the inner city.
Arlin stared at the piece of paper, then looked up at the decrepit shop infront of him. He entered cautiously, locking the door
behind him. An Anzat sat behind a desk, smoking some sort of neon-colored stick. He placed the sketch of the armor onto the desk
infront of him, along with the papers to his parents house. "Build it." The anzat just grinned.