Sheva Avan is a fearless Zeltron Sentinel whose disdain for physical violence and lack of discipline led her down the solitary path of a Jedi Shadow. Forgoing much of the traditional training of a normal Jedi, Sheva instead learned to use her ample charms and uncanny stealth to work from the shadows, assisting other Jedi on missions that took them far from the bright lights of the Jedi Temple. Working mainly off of Nar Shaddaa, she learned to move through the galaxy's underworld with the characteristic grace of her race. Operating alone in deep cover and far from the front lines of the war, Sheva was able to pawn her lightsaber for passage to the Rim, where she promptly vanished. Few would expect a flighty Zeltron to be a highly trained Jedi operative, just as few would expect a Jedi to be so proficient at picking locks and slicing into Imperial Credit accounts....

Maintain her cover and uncover the truth of the fall of the Republic. As much as Sheva bucked the rules and constraints of the stuffy old Kriffers on the Council, she knows the Jedi weren't traitors. As a Shadow, she is well aware of the reappearance of the Sith during the Clone Wars, and she's determined to find out what role they played in the destruction of the Order.

50 Morality
Strength: Enthusiasm
Weakness: Recklessness

The corner table at the Dirty Dug seemed to be occupied on random nights by the same dark-cloaked figure. Those curious enough to stare would eventually see the flash of unmistakable pink skin. A Zeltron, in a run-down Rim joint? The regulars gave the whole area a wide berth, past experience teaching them not to get caught in this spider's web. They chuckle to themselves as an out-of-system Spice runner gets either brave or intoxicated enough to approach the table.
As the Spice runner leans over the table, the Zeltron raises her head from the staring contest she was losing with her drink. The cowl slips back slightly, revealing a wild mane of electric blue hair framing the exotic features that her race is noted for. As her yellow eyes lock with his, the smuggler feels the air in the room lighten, his head swiming as he breathes in a sweet smell that reminds him of the finest Spice.
"Are you a dancer?" he asks, noticing the bodysuit she's wearing under her heavy cloak. She laughs, finishing her drink in one smooth motion.
"I can dance." she smiles as he stares at her lips. Blue as her hair. "for a drink."
Several rounds of drinks later he's sitting in the booth with her, enthusiastically telling her about how he's mapped out Imperial patrols for this sector, and where he made his last Spice drop. He should probably stop talking but he can't seem to find a reason to deny the Zeltron answers to any of her increasingly probing questions. The drinks keep coming, but now they're all for her.
"Sorry handsome, but I've got to get to work." She pats him twice on the cheek as she gets up to leave. In a daze, the Spice runner reaches out as if to embrace her and slumps further into the vacant booth. "Thanks for the info, Sleemo!"
The regulars are quiet as Sheva Avan strides to the bar and throws down the Spice runner's credchips. Nobody tries to stop her as she leaves. The bartender slips the credits into his apron with one of his tertiary appendages. At least this time the Schutta didn't kill anybody.