Cirxis Cronossk

Cirxis Cronossk
Biographical Information
Race	Trandoshan
Homeworld	Trandosha
Mother	Unknown
Father	Unknown - Supposed Blackscale Slaver
Spouse	Unknown Blackscale Slaver - Deceased
Siblings	Brother - Deceased
Children	Loxis - Presumed deceased
Born	Year -19 Day 329
Died	N/A
Physical Description
Gender	Male
Height	2.1 Meters
Coloring	Green/Brown
Hair Color	None
Eye Color	Yellow
Political Information
Affiliation	Blue Star Dominion
Prior Affiliation	Bounty Hunters Alliance, Tion Hegemony, Mytaranor Slaving Council, Depatar, Kanjiklub, Blackscale Clan

"Only in the shadows do you find the truth of the galaxy; trust in your claws to carve your path."

— Cirxis, to a young, aspiring bounty hunter seeking guidance.

Biography

Cirxis in his Throne Room

While most information regarding Cirxis has been destroyed or lost, what follows are excerpts from his Biography, published in year 18 by Crepan Press.

Early life

It was late in the year -3 when my journey began, plucked from the dusty streets of Lorpfan by the town's elders. They saw potential in me, a chance to rise above the rest, and so I was sent to Hsskhor. There, among the elite of my kind, I honed my skills, my scales toughening with each day's relentless training. A year of my life was spent in the grueling regimen of the Trandoshan Elites, each moment shaping me into the warrior I was destined to become.

Then, on the dawn of year -1, fate took me to the shadowed canopies of Kashyyyk. I was to aid the Blackscale Clan, a name that whispered of darkness and chains. It was a time shrouded in secrecy, my deeds there hidden from the galaxy's prying eyes. Only whispers remain of my service, a ghostly record of my existence—tales of a journey to Tatooine and a final return to Trandosha mark the sparse chapters of that era.

Back on Trandosha, life took a slower pace, but the call of duty never quieted. I found myself guarding precious cargo, jewels and stones that sparkled like the stars we sailed among. From Lorpfan to Varic, we traveled, ensuring the treasures of our world reached their destination unscathed. It was a quieter time, yet it bore the weight of responsibility, guarding the wealth of our planet with vigilant eyes.

Bounty Hunter's Alliance

For a spell, I vanished from the galactic scene, only to reemerge in Year 8 as the Bounty Hunters Alliance's Head of Hunts. Rumors floated about that I had left Trandosha post-discharge to dive back into the swoop bike racing circuits on Tatooine, hiding behind the alias "Raju Lucumba." Truth be told, the tales of my racing exploits might be more fiction than fact, a layer of mystery I've never felt compelled to clarify.

What's beyond dispute, however, is my frequent journeys to Cona, the beating heart of the BHA during those times. It was there, amidst the chaos of hunters and mercenaries, that I carved out my place, eventually rising to lead the hunts. Some whispered about my connections to a smuggling ring, ferrying salt across the stars to Cona. Let's just say, where there's smoke, there's usually a fire, and in the underbelly of the galaxy, I was often the one stoking the flames.

The BHA's tides shifted with the departure of Kataradanna, making way for Auron Drayer's short-lived tenure. It wasn't long before I, alongside Vadik Edik, stepped out from the shadows to steer the BHA's ship in Auron's absence. Leadership, however, is a double-edged sword. Auron's exit and Kataradanna's return marked the beginning of turbulent times for the Alliance. The trust was frayed, and under her leadership, the BHA faced decline.

Vadik and I, seeing the writing on the wall, conspired to right the ship, to steer the BHA back to its former glory. Trust, however, is a rare commodity in our line of work. Kataradanna, sensing the shift in the wind, aligned with The Damned, enlisting Banquo Knox to eliminate the threat we posed. It was a stark reminder that in the shadows of the galaxy, allegiances are as fleeting as the stars.

Assasination Attempt and Exile

The tale goes a bit like this: Banquo Knox, thinking he had the upper hand, was mere steps away from turning me into a footnote in some dusty galactic archive. He had the location of my ship, his intentions as clear as the Tatooine suns. But I've always been one step ahead, or at least I'd like to believe so. Instead of a grand confrontation or a dramatic space chase, I left him staring at the dust trails of a Koro II Airspeeder. That's the thing about being underestimated; it becomes your best weapon.

After giving Knox the slip, I didn't just disappear; I became the ghost many believed me to be. That year and a half of exile wasn't a retreat but a recalibration. The galaxy spun on, and amidst the silence, rumors about me thrived like weeds. They said I went back to Trandosha, slipping into the role of a mentor for the new bloods of the Elites, passing on the lessons learned not from textbooks, but from the gritty, unscripted drama of life itself.

Then there were whispers of Ashkrik, a name that echoed in the underground swoop racing circuits, a ghost racer tearing through the tracks, a shadow with my smile. And yes, amidst the stars, I found and lost a piece of my heart to Levis Morbus, a Kaminoan whose spirit was as vast as the oceans on her world. Our engagement was a whirlwind, the kind that sweeps you off your feet until reality pulls you back to the ground.

Coeus Ahlstedt and the Silhouette organization became unexpected chapters in my journey. Aligning with them wasn't about forging alliances but about shared objectives, a mutual understanding of the galaxy's dark undercurrents. It's amusing how these partnerships lead to the scrubbing clean of my past, a blank slate for the galaxy to fill with its imagination.

As for the dark whispers linking me to the untimely demises of certain high-profile figures during those years, well, the galaxy loves its mysteries, doesn't it? Whether I had a hand in them or was merely a specter at the feast, I'll let history decide.

That period of exile, of being a phantom, wasn't about hiding. It was about reflection, about understanding the myriad paths my feet had wandered and where they were meant to tread next.

Cirxis during his exile.

Tion Hegemony, Black Sun, The Darklights, and The Cron Resurrection

By the time the galaxy's calendars marked Year 10, I had cast off the shadows once more, this time emerging under the colors of the Tion Hegemony. My arrival in Tion wasn't just a mere change of scenery; it was the beginning of a new chapter, one where I laid the foundations for the Tion Blackops Division. Under my command, this elite unit dove headfirst into the galaxy's darkest corners, playing crucial roles in conflicts like the war against Black Sun, the harrowing Darklight Crisis, and the Cron Conflict. Our efforts during these tumultuous times weren't just about survival; they were about ensuring the Hegemony's prosperity through strategic superiority and unwavering resolve.

The pinnacle of our endeavors came on the morning of Day 226, Year 11. It was then that I led a daring raid on Paul Cron's personal vessel. The operation was tense, fraught with the danger of the unknown and the very real threat posed by Cron and his followers. Yet, through a combination of meticulous planning and the sheer determination of my team, we overcame. The struggle, though brief, was intense, culminating in Cron's arrest and delivering a decisive victory to the Tion Hegemony. The conflict's end was a testament not only to our tactical acumen but to the indomitable spirit of those who fight not just with weapons, but with the conviction of their cause.

Following the resolution of the Cron Conflict, I made the difficult decision to step away from the Tion Hegemony. Leadership of the Black Ops division was passed to Talen Mordare, a capable warrior whose dedication and strategic mind promised to carry on the division's legacy. As for me, rumors swirled of my journey towards The Maw, a region shrouded in as much mystery as my own past. But in the life of a figure like me, the journey is never just about the destination—it's about the paths we choose, the battles we fight, and the legacies we leave behind in the endless expanse of the galaxy.

Life in the Outer Rim

In those untamed stretches of the Outer Rim, my tale took a turn that few could've predicted. It was there I came across the YV-666 that would come to be known as "Scorekeeper's Bounty." Now, the galaxy whispers all manner of stories about how that ship came into my possession. Some say it was taken by force, its previous crew meeting a grim fate at my hand. Others spin tales of a serendipitous discovery, a wrecked vessel on Biosh that I, with a bit of underworld savvy, brought back to fearsome life.

But it wasn't just about ships and spoils. My journey took a strategic turn when I aligned with Karl Korne, stepping into the role of Team Captain for the Cirbodyn Crusaders in the Colonial Shockball League. This move was more than a play for glory on the shockball field; it was a calculated step into the circles of power within the Zann Consortium under Karl's leadership.

Yet, my ambitions stretched beyond the confines of sports and allegiances. Joining the T’doshok Alliance and ascending to the head of House Blackscale wasn't just about power—it was about securing a foothold, establishing outposts and a fortress among the stars that would serve as my base of operations. My asteroid hideout, transformed into a palace among the void, was a statement: here stood Cirxis, a force to be reckoned with.

The crescendo of my time in the Outer Rim came with a bold move that would change the course of the Zann Consortium forever. Under my leadership, the entirety of Zann's riches and resources were redirected, funneled into my accounts through a web of underworld connections. Karl Korne, caught in the snare I had laid, found his empire crumbled beneath him. While some might decry such tactics, the galaxy breathed a sigh of relief. Among the voices of gratitude was none other than the renowned pirate, Teniel Djo, acknowledging a shift in the winds of power.

This chapter of my story, set against the backdrop of the Outer Rim's lawlessness, was not just about survival or accumulation of wealth. It was about establishing dominion, about crafting a legend from the shadows and debris of space. It was here, among the stars and the dark reaches, that Cirxis truly became a name known across the galaxy—not just as a mercenary or a captain, but as a master of the game, playing the long con for all it was worth.

Eidola and Mytaranor Slaving Council

The day I stood face to face with The Pirate Queen was a day of reckonings and new beginnings. It was on the rugged terrains of Marlavir that our fates intertwined, forging an alliance that would reshape the underbelly of the galaxy. In a ceremony steeped in tradition and watched by the eyes of the cosmos, the Mytaranor Slaving Council was passed into my hands, marking a new era under the watch of the Blackscale Slavers.

As the new head of the council, I breathed life back into the ancient practice of gladiatorial combat. The arenas on Alisandor and within the bustling city of Depatar on Marlavir roared to life once more, a testament to our power and a spectacle for the masses, echoing the brutal beauty of survival.

The galaxy, however, is a cauldron of unpredictability. By Year 12, Day 207, whispers of madness swept through the stars—Teniel Djo and other top brass of Eidola vanishing into the abyss of The Maw's black holes. It was during this tumultuous time that I found myself in a clandestine dialogue with Warlord Squall Chitose. The galaxy seemed to hold its breath as we pondered the void left by Teniel's audacious exit. Squall, with his vision unclouded by the chaos, assured me of the unbreakable nature of our alliance. "In the vacuum of space, our bond is the only certainty," he said, a statement that solidified our path forward.

Yet, not all was to remain shrouded in the machinations of power and alliances. I found myself, after years of lurking in the shadows, stepping into the dim light of a cantina. It was here, among the whispers of deals and the exchange of death sticks, that I openly embraced my role in the Mytaranor's slaving legacy. A bold move, perhaps foolish, that marked my return to the public eye after years of silence.

But the galaxy has a way of reminding you of the fragility of life and the greed that festers in the hearts of men. An assassination attempt, laughably inept yet stark in its intent, was a clear message. It was time for a change. With the weight of this realization, I chose to retreat once more into the shadows, passing the reins of the Mytaranor Slaving Council to the Hutt, Percilia Kajidic, as the year waned.

Racing Career

In the heart of Hutt Space, with the glare of the twin suns on my scales, I found myself at the helm of the YT-1760, the Scorekeeper's Champion, racing through the void in Krieg's Run's second season. It was a grueling competition, the kind that tests both pilot and ship to their limits. Emerging from a field of contenders, I managed to claim the fourth spot, a respectable finish that set the tone for what was to come.

I skipped the next race, biding my time, honing my skills, and preparing for a stronger comeback. True to my word, I returned to the fray, this time pushing harder, flying faster, and securing the third place. It was a sweet victory, one that tasted of redemption and promised more.

The anticipation was palpable by the time the fourth race rolled around. My fingers danced over the controls, my instincts sharper than ever. That race was a spectacle, a testament to my growth as a pilot. I flew like I was one with the ship, crossing the finish line a mere breath away from the leader, Tabty Haasza. Securing second place was a triumph, but it left me hungry for more.

Yet, fate had its twists. The Champions Race was a different beast. Despite my best efforts, technical gremlins and a temperamental hyperdrive hampered my performance, leaving me in fourth place. It was a humbling experience, a reminder that in the vastness of space, victory is never guaranteed.

Year 15 brought a new dawn, a new race, and with it, a new ship—the YT-510 Scorekeeper's Wings. With its controls beneath my hands, I felt a resurgence of purpose. That race, I soared past nebulae and asteroids, claiming second place in a blaze of glory.

The season's final champions race was a bittersweet affair. I clinched third place, a proud yet reflective moment. It was time.

With a heart full of memories and a legacy etched in the stars, I retired from the galactic stage, returning to the familiar landscapes of Lorpfan on Trandosha. There, amid the whispers of the past and the embrace of home, I found peace.

Tragedy and a New Life

For the next few years, Cirxis only made public appearances occasionally. Notably at the funeral of his close friend, Kilian Delmarco in Year 17.

During year 18, Cirxis was known to have a son, named Loxis, with an unknown Blackscale Trandoshan. However, both were presumed to be killed during a Wookiee raid on Cronossk's compound in early Year 19.

Shortly after, Cirxis left Trandosha once again and met a woman named Sofia Lizeth while tavern hopping in the Outer Rim. The two went on to eventually found KanjiKlub in late Year 19. For 2 years Cirxis and Sofia ran Kanjiklub before Cirxis spun off to form a mercenary company he named The Blackscale Clan.

With 2 organizations under their belt, the duo founded the Spacer's Alliance conglomerate in an effort to provide low-income individuals with the services and security previously only offered to the wealthy. Unfortunately, Spacer's Alliance failed to gain any traction and the duo agreed to disband it only a year after its inception. At this point, Cirxis once again returned to the shadows and was mostly lost to galactic history for the next few years.

From Shadows to Rebellion

Cirxis' path to the Rebellion wasn't born out of a sudden epiphany or a dramatic turn of events. It was a gradual realization, a series of events that showed the true face of the Empire and the suffering it caused across the galaxy. As a leader of the Blackscale Mercenaries, he had witnessed firsthand the tyranny of the Empire — worlds enslaved, freedoms stripped away, and lives mercilessly taken for the sake of order and control. Initially, Cirxis' involvement was purely professional; the Rebellion was another client, albeit one fighting for a cause rather than profit. He took jobs disrupting Imperial supply lines, rescuing prisoners, and gathering intelligence. Each mission pulled him deeper into the heart of the Rebellion, exposing him to the ideals and the spirit of those who fought not for credits but for freedom.

It was during this time his old friend Vadik re-entered Cirxis life. Vadik Edik, with his sharp wit and even sharper strategic mind, played a pivotal role in swaying Cirxis allegiance towards the Rebel cause. Their partnership, initially forged in the crucible of the Bounty Hunters Alliance, was built on mutual respect and a shared understanding of the galaxy's darker corners. Vadik, however, saw beyond the immediate horizon of profits and power plays. He recognized the growing tyranny of the Empire as not just a threat to their operations, but to the very fabric of freedom in the galaxy. During their time leading the BHA, Vadik often spoke of the long-term implications of the Empire's rule. He argued that the suppression of freedom and the systematic destruction of entire cultures and planets would eventually leave no place for individuals or organizations like the BHA. "Today, it's them; tomorrow, it could be us."

But Vadik did more than just appeal to Cirxis' sense of justice; he laid out a strategic vision. He outlined how the duo's skills and resources could be a linchpin in the Rebel's fight against the Empire. "Imagine the impact we could have," he mused, "not just as mercenaries for hire, but as champions of a cause greater than ourselves." Vadik understood the importance of the knowledge of the underworld, and how it could be harnessed to undermine the Empire's operations.

It was Vadik's blend of pragmatic strategy and moral conviction that ultimately convinced Cronossk. He didn't just talk of joining the Rebellion as the right thing to do; he demonstrated that it was the smart play for the long term. In his view, aligning with the Rebellion was not just about fighting against the Empire but fighting for a galaxy where freedom and justice weren't just ideals, but realities for all its inhabitants.

Personal Effects

Ships

Cirxis' personal ship, The YV-666 "Scorekeepers Bounty"

Cirxis has used multiple ships over the years, however, his most recognizable are the YV-666 "Scorekeepers Bounty" and his racing ships the YT-1760 "Scorekeeper's Champion" and the YT-510 "Scorekeeper's Wings".

Weapons

For most of his Bounty Hunting career, Cirxis was known to carry a Valken-38 Carbine and dual DL-44's.

Starting in late year 11 Cirxis was usually seen with an A280 strapped across his back.

During his tenure as the head of the Blackscale Clan, Cirxis had been seen in action using a highly modified Nightstinger.

Clothing

Cirxis almost always wears a brown hooded robe that he uses to conceal his weapons and loose-fitting earth-toned clothes. At the award ceremony of the Champions Race, Cirxis appeared wearing Imperial Royal Guard armor. It is unclear where he acquired this armor.

As the head of the Blackscale mercenaries, Cirxis has been seen in both Imperial Royal Guard armor and Heavy Battle armor.