Jovial, obliging, and genteel, Jeroon Porvo is living proof that appearances can be deceiving. Contrary to the text of his highly-decorated resume, he came of age not at a prestigious Core Worlds finishing school but on the streets of Nar Shaddaa, where he worked his way up through the local smuggling rings under the handle "Vibroaxe Jerry." However, he lacked the connections and taste for violence necessary to ascend past middle management, so this quick-talking thug decided to move off-world and start his own kind of enterprise.

Posing as a diplomat from the Outer Rim world of Orto, Jeroon leveraged his smuggling connections to bring illicit goods to the sons and daughters of privilege. Supplemented with the occasional foray into fraud, blackmail, and espionage, he was able to make a comfortable living in spite of Imperial restrictions on alien movement. However, this charade proved too convincing for his own good. When the Ortolan Senate delegation made the unfortunate decision to speak out against the Empire, he woke one morning to find his (official) assets frozen and an ISB warrant issued for his arrest.

Lacking the means to grease the palms that would ensure his safety on Nar Shaddaa, Jeroon fled to the only people he knew wouldn't turn him over to the Empire: the Rebel Alliance. A pilot who owed him a favor smuggled him into the Rebel fleet under a crate of thermal detonators, and after a tense conversation with the political officer on duty it was agreed that he would be posted to the remote base on Arda I as a junior diplomatic attaché. His true identity would be revealed only on a need-to-know basis, and in exchange he would use all his abilities and connections to help them pull off the crime of the millennium: the overthrow of the Galactic Empire.

Crime - Jeroon has never been much of an idealist. He has his doubts that the Force even exists, and is skeptical that the racism of the Empire will die away once its political structure has been smashed. One thing, though, is certain: the Empire is bad for business. Its endless rules and checkpoints make it difficult for honest merchants like himself to operate, and its patronage of thugs and bounty hunters makes the galaxy an altogether more dangerous place to live. A world without the Empire would certainly be desirable, and listening to the enthusiasm of his new Rebel colleagues, he is beginning to believe it may even be possible.

Duty - Political support (0): As a member of the diplomatic corps, Jeroon is tasked with winning neutral systems and organizations to the Rebel cause and smoothing over the inevitable rifts that occur in a loose multi-species coalition. If he can bring some of his old friends in high and low places along for the ride, then so much the better.

Obligation - Bounty (5): In addition to the not-insubstantial price put on his head by the ISB, the collapse of Jeroon's finances have put him in debt to some rather unsavory people. The Hutts cannot be seen to let an unpaid loan slide, and many of his former contacts may prove unreliable in light of this.

Jeroon is a modest 1.2 meters in height, and not much less than that in width. He wears a reasonable facsimile of his people's traditional diplomatic robes-- though an expert eye might notice subtle alterations to cover old tattoos and enable quick getaways-- and carries the staff of the god Bhan, Ortolan patron of discussion and debate. While Jeroon is not a religious man, he is happy to have Bhan on his side when negotiations break down.

For the most part, Jeroon has adopted the tastes and mannerisms of his upper-class clients, though hints of his rough-and-tumble upbringing can come through under stress. He shares the classic Ortolan weakness for fine food and can generally be found hovering around the nearest buffet table, making compliments that stop just short of being sycophantic. His other weaknesses include Corellian brandy, uneven floorboards, and water deeper than 1.2 meters.