Image: Doll Divine / Japanese Fashion
(Flashpoint used)
Name: Fantasy Name Generators

Name: Dot Ottonu

Age: 20 in 3ABY

Species: Alderaanian Human

Family: mother alive but not close

Profession: Mechanic, Racer, Pilot, Thief in that order. As a mechanic she is clever and resourceful and can tap a variety of items for use even if the parts or tools needed aren't around. Though she is quite good with piloting most small vehicles (from single person jet bikes to cargo shuttles, but not larger starships) her favored types are racing bikes and vehicles, generally hovercraft but she does enjoy a good two-wheeled motorcycle, anything that can be speedy as well as maneuverable. She's very good at plotting her way through a complicated area, from a race course to a bank vault... And at a vault she's going to pick and choose what to lift, since she doesn't want to look like she's stealing things. Notably also, she is a force user, to a minor degree, and uses this in her everyday skills to lift tools or goods, and keep herself shielded in firefights

Origin: Alderaan, but we know how that turned out... *from a dream 2.7.23*

Current Whereabouts: Wherever she can find mechanic work, and generally running from a number of underworld as well as Imperial types. She does in fact have a pretty hefty bounty on her head

Height/Build: 5'8" / slender, looks delicate but is strong enough to hold her own in stressful situations, including climbing or rooting around in large containers, crates, and to lift or manipulate heavy machinery

Appearance: tanned skin with a few small burns or scars from various incidents; pale blue hair that is very shiny and satiny, straight, often cut short as shown but grows very quickly so the ends may look wild; teal colored eyes that are narrow and have a strong epicanthal fold; often grinning or laughing but sometimes to disguise her motives or mood; voice is high, raucous, and sometimes grating, but often enough must whisper or shriek which she does with a wide vocal range; prefers simple gear with pockets and places to put small items and tools, layered, and almost always carrying a tool kit or satchel with her other gear in it; she has the scent of a mechanic's shop or oil, a metallic tang even if she's quite clean

Dot was never going to 'amount' to much at home, and bucked the system without a lot of money for an education. She learned on the fly and did so very well with practical results. From a very young age she was a filch, wide-eyed watching the local mechanic fix up landing craft and racing vehicles. It was virtually guaranteed that if she was watching someone work, she would wind up handing them the right tool, but also that tool would go missing when she went home for dinner. Just sayin', that pack with her tools used to be other people's tools.

When the Empire was in full swing, she knew that she needed to have practical skills to survive. Casually inserting herself into what existed of Alderaan's underworld, mostly by accident, Dot gained a 'friend' in the form of a minor crime lord needing fast vehicles and keen pilots. She was barely 13 but as a 'kid' no one would notice her slipping in and out of other people's garages before races. She knew that this was certainly underhanded, but her attitude of 'if it won't kill them it's fine' prevailed. She preferred to render vehicles sluggish or outright non-starters than to equip them with explosives or cause them to veer out of control.

It had become clear to her at least that she was able to use a bit of the Force to lift or move things around that same time, though her power has never grown much beyond the ability to pick up items around 20 lbs or less, at around 10 to 15 meters distance. However she can seemingly feel through them to determine whether they're the right item. Under stress, that's the first feature that gets muddled, so if there is a firefight requiring her to defend herself, there will be a cloud of strewn items posing as a shield. She knows she must be very selective about who sees her doing so, or where she is when she actively exercises her abilities. Though she was barely even born when the Jedi were exterminated, she has seen how any other force users around were dragged away or outright executed.

With that Force in mind however... things seem to happen to her that have drawn her out of her homeworld and into the galaxy at large. Whether it's a 'dark feeling' or 'whim', she tends to obey it. And when that whim said 'you should head to Corellia and make your way as a mechanic' she heeded it. And that was a good thing, even though life was difficult there. She drew quite a bit of debt moving her mother from Alderaan, and thus was attempting to pay back some of that debt when her homeworld was shattered by the Death Star.

Obviously putting the galaxy into a state of alert, this caused just enough chaos for her to begin dodging bounties and amassing her own savings by racing and fixing up craft at ports. She won a particularly difficult race that brought her squarely in the sights of her old bosses, but by then, the winnings and betting pools she'd assembled was enough to get them off her tail. They aren't satisfied, and still attempt to badger her into giving them some of what she earned fairly. That won't happen, but she won't go as far as killing any of them to get out of their network.

Dot is at her heart a good person, but with a free will that simply can't be fit into any given stereotype. She'll take jobs, only after considering their impact. But she did have one mishap that led to an item of hers being put into an Imperial warehouse, and she would love to have it back... somehow.

**

Wide-eyed, but not without caution, that was how Dot was presented to the Wyld Hunt's gathered assembly. She didn't know what planet she was on, and she was adept enough with navigation to know quite a few systems. It... felt different, distant. Farther than she'd ever been from the Galactic Core, that's for sure. The person who brought her here was of a species she'd also never seen before, but then who knew what all had been shaken up since the Empire took over?

Dot was aware that around herself and all the people, in this big sheltered cavern, it was cold. Not the chill of space, but the cold of a wintery or snow-blustered world. So the inside was definitely where she wanted to stay! There was warm food and mulled wine and all kinds of chatter. That all died down with the strangely tingly clearing of throats - it wasn't the Force, but it was a close second. And as always she paid attention when it pinged her senses.

For there, under the gaze of these big fluffy draks (the word was tossed around so often she realized it meant the four-winged beasts, not beasts at all, they spoke!) one after another groups of young were shown off by their mothers.

Half a dozen of these adorable little fluffy draklings were bounding around, while others strutted or strolled, moving around all the party attendees until they decided on one to...

Like a zap from a shorted out circuit, Dot realized, that was why she was here, wasn't it? She didn't remember how she got here, but she knew it wasn't a dream, nor a Force-vision. (She'd had one of those only one time, and preferred not to recall it too clearly.)

Dot felt a bump, jostling her and almost causing her to trip. The little drak beside her knee seemed to be grinning. "You won't need toolsss to fix me!"

She appraised this black and white dragon with a professional air at first, but the drak already had made off with her ankle-pouch. "Hey - hey that's got my--"

"Toolffss, yeffss!" He was galloping away, to where a strange shimmering portal seemed to form on the wall. "Told you don't need'em!"

"But I need them for other things!" Dot laughed and ran after him!

**

(( Note that likely they will wind up propelled into the future of their Far Away realm because keeping them all together is more important than me trying to figure out a timeline.))