member backstories
Axis Network (UK)
As a youth, Maddox defaced Imperial propaganda and learned how to get in and out of the most secure areas unseen. A silver tongue rogue, he developed a knack for charming intel out of arrogant Imperial officers. Maddox traded in information and took private jobs as an infiltrator, thief, and saboteur, which caught the attention of a nascent Rebel Intelligence. They recruited him as an unofficial asset, set him up with credits, and sent him out to upscale social gatherings, often sitting across from Imperial sympathizers and weapons manufacturers.
Everything changed on a mission that was meant to be a quick and quiet. He came face to face with his past, his father, now a Grand Admiral. He won't say much about what happened, but it ended with a scuttled star destroyer, a broken Grand Admiral rank badge on his belt, and a quick escape on aboard a stolen light freighter.
Maddox knew he'd have the Empire and the Rebellion looking for him, so it was time for him to call in some favors and become a ghost. He was growing impatient with the Alliance’s inability to act on any of the information he risked his life to get, so he decided to do it himself. He became a myth: an untraceable operative hitting Imperial targets with surgical precision and zero mercy. He synthesized his lifelong fury into a highly productive rage. Allied with partisans, smugglers, and syndicates, he built a network of fighters who, by any means necessary, opposed the Empire. Returning to his home on Takodana, Maddox was recruited by a contact called [REDEACTED] who said, "When you're done running, I have a job for you." He was tapped to assemble and lead a "technically unsanctioned" squadron of rebel misfits; Burgundy Squadron.
Born on Koboh, but with a penchant for exploration, this traveling merchant has charted the forgotten corners of the galaxy. He specializes in procuring the nearly unprocurable; the hardest to find parts, plants, and at times, person. He knows the wrong combination of components can turn fuel to explosive, medicine to poison, and a cryo-coil to a heavy repeater. A skill some find quite valuable.
Merce keeps to himself and adores the natures of his planet, choosing to settle in the Basalt Forest. He's adorned with Rawka feathers and Relter claws and prefers the slow stride of a Nekko over the scream of a speeder to travel though Koboh's valleys; all to pay homage to the wilds of his home.
Little is known about Merce’s direct affiliations, and that’s by design. He avoids politics and keeps his network quiet. But the discarded Stormtrooper helmets mounted outside of his homestead, suggest otherwise. Merce has stood against the Empire before, in his own quiet way, and his skills have long since caught the attention of those working in the shadows of the Rebellion. To outsiders, Merce Fann is a grizzled, quiet figure; a relic dealer, a forager, a merchant. But to those who know better, he’s a man who honors the wilds of his home while navigating the chaos of the galaxy. He is a trusted ally to Burgundy Squadron, supplying them with hard to find fuel, flora, and firepower they can’t acquire through official channels. He never brags, never lingers too long, and never asks questions. He just delivers. When pushed, he will insist he is just a lowly merchant and nothing else.
Growing up, Trav worked as a spotter for criminals in the Duros Sector on Nar Shadaa; looking out for those who looked like they had something to steal or money to lose. The Duros Sector wasn’t a pleasant place to grow up, and although Trav had no family to look out for him, he made some very close friends who kept him on the right side of the moral line. Crime wasn’t for everyone. It needed lines that weren’t crossed or it was a slippery road into a Hutt’s slavery or even an unmarked grave. When Trav reached his teens,he heard tales of a passage system out of the grimy Duros Sector and into the shiny, more upmarket, Corellian Sector. He eventually found this secret passage way and started working there as a spotter for the many casinos and fortune tellers.
Without knowing, Trav spent most of his early life working out ways to read people and work out who's telling the truth and who's hiding something or even more profitable, who's hiding someone. As he got older, these life lessons led him into a life of tracking people who owed debts to the casinos, or even worse, the Hutts. Although this seemed like a ruthless business, Trav was soft to a heart-felt sob story. He knew where the line was, what was right, and what was wrong. Trav had a bad habit of not being able to say "no credits, no job." Some clients' stories were just too tragic to worry about credits. Sometimes, it was about doing the right thing in a galaxy of wrongs. Being able to sleep at night was more important, especially on a planet with lots of very bright lights and loud noises. Trav's motivation at the moment is to earn credits and reputation as he's still paying back a loan he took out to buy his own ship. This means Trav has to try and say "no" a little more often for low paying jobs. But is that the right thing to do in a galaxy needing “good people” to step up?
Cuaco, like many other Rodians, grew up hunting Ghests in the jungle bogs of Rodia which taught him from a young age to deal with and dispatch formidable opponents. Naturally, when they time came, he joined the Rodian Liberation Front to safeguard his home planet from external dictatorial control of all forms. Freedom fighting was baked into his culture, so it was no surprise when he left Rodia to join the larger fight.
He found his home on Segra Milo with the Partisans and immediately took to their ideology of stamping out the Empire by any means necessary. Nothing brought him more pleasure than taking down full squads of Imperial patrols with the efficiency of a surgeon. He's earned every trophy he's taken and his crown jewels are the Deathtrooper helmet he keeps on a sling and the E11-D he liberated off them.
This brazen attitude earned him his reputation for being a wraith; haunting and hunting the Empire from the shadows. It also had the undesired effect of a steady stream of bounty hunters coming after him. A chance meeting with Maddox set the path in motion for him to be recruited into Burgundy Squadron. It gave him true purpose and he could use his skills to protect the innocent and continue to do good by any means necessary; the perfect mix between the RLF and the Partisans.
Carik Mald resides on Tanaab. As a Deck Officer for an independent docking bay, he is in a position where he can document and catalogue exactly what passes through his port.
Tanaab is an agricultural planet and The Empire routinely collects food shipments to turn into rations for it's ranks. Mald always makes sure that a container or two is empty, a nest of space weevils finds its way aboard or even a timed detonator is buried in the landing gear.
Mald has gotten brazen and started stealing unsupervised hardware from the Empire. A case of boots, a crate of EC-17's, a scanning crew's kit.
The Empire doesn't even seem to miss it.
His proudest "find" is an Imperial Comm Pack. He spends any free time he can listening to any encrypted Imperial message or broadcast, then passing that along to a careful few who are in the know.
On Ferrix, 45-year-old dockworker Ruto Zapal labours at Repaak Salvage Yard, expertly dismantling starships with his plasma torch and engine rig. Trained by his retired father, he supports his wife Collee, two sisters, and ageing parents, aided at home by his droid K9-D6. A loyal guild member, Ruto unwinds with fellow workers in the local bar, bound by Ferrix’s tight-knit community. Though he resents the growing presence of the Galactic Empire, he avoids conflict, fearing for his family’s safety, even as tension steadily builds around him.
Kito Blosk is an old privateer who has been there, done that and survived by the skin of his teeth.
He has raised his head above the parapet and nearly got it shot off more than once. He had an experience of a group raid and charged against an Imperial outpost but found he was the last one alive before he got even close and that experience had a severe impact on his mental state so he promised himself he would not get emotionally attached to other rebels. So he tends to be a bit of a loner.
Yes he will assist rebels where he can, he moves from planet to planet and makes a few under hand deals to survive and cause more and more damage to the empire. Willing to share his experience for credits of course, with a snarl.
Gleebo Lutzz is currently the proprietor of Docking Bay 77 in the City of Mos Espa. This Bay looks like all the others in Mos Espa but holds a special secret.
Beneath the landing pad lies the real workshop where the "Dawn Shredder", a heavily modified YT-2400 Corellian freighter, is docked. Rumour has it, that this is the fastest ship in the outer rim. Armed to the teeth and equipped with a protype cloaking device along with some of Gleebos special engine modifications the Shredder is a ghost ship of the Outer-Rim.
Along with his trusted captain, the mercurial Twi'lek Naa'doo, they use the freighter to distribute aid to the victims of the Imperial war machine throughout the Outer-Rim and offer a secret haven to Rebellion fighters and refugees.
They have had many close calls with the Imperial navy throughout the war but the ship and its mission exist only as tall tale in the stories of the Outer-Rim.
Men’el Vagor, born on the forest world of Chespea, was rescued by a Rebel Partisan group when the Empire destroyed his home village.
After learning to fly a LAAT during the Partisan liberation of Kashyyyk, Men’el eventually became a location scout for the Rebellion, specializing in jungle planets. His close ties to the people of these worlds eventually led him to be an intel gatherer for Burgundy Squadron during the height of the Civil War.
He took part in the ‘mop-up’ operations on Endor at the end of the war before leaving and becoming a freelancer for the Scrapper Guild. This role now enables him to keep tabs on Imperial Remnant activity and pass critical information on to Burgundy Squadron outside of the New Republics bureaucratic channels.