Rico Riven is a man like no other, trying to survive with the gifts given to him and whatever else he can find, steal, or heck, sometimes even earn. He was born in the dark alleys of Coruscant, or so he was told, and was passed from family member to family member, planet to planet, as his father was never known and his mother died when he was still a baby. He learned to fend for himself, rely on himself, and do whatever it takes to get by.

Rico has an attitude, not one for politics or glory, but knows bantha crap when he smells it. He can drink with the best of ‘em, enjoys a good game of anything, and lives life for the joy of living.

Rico is a good pilot, tough as a nail, and handy with a blaster. He’s by no means dashing, but he has a certain stony charm that’s been known to melt a heart or two. He has brilliant green eyes, long pitch dark hair, and a rough beard.

He has a little bit of the touch, sometimes able to read a thought or two if the other person thinks it loudly enough. Nothing big or fancy, just something that's there. He doesn't even know about it.

He currently is paying off a loan on a ship that he’s been using to haul freight for legitimate customers, and earning a little extra on the side smuggling droid parts from Tattooine.