Sol is the captain and the owner of Ms Piggy. He is an ex-military pilot, currently making a living by hauling cargo across the galaxy. Sol saw his chance
to hit the jackpot when the rebellion was forming and the Empire was trying to suppress it hard and fast. War, what a wonderful opportunity to make money!
He wanted to expand his smuggling operations, and for that he needed more people, a proper crew. What he ended up with wasn’t really planned, like nothing
in his life. But hey, you play with the cards you’ve got.
Sol sold his old ship and bought a bigger one, an old army cargo dropship, the same model he used to fly during his time in the army. He even named it like he named all his ships back then, Ms Piggy. That name came from the flight characteristics, dropships were by nature big and clumsy, flying like a... pig. Sol upgraded his ship, beefing up the frame, engines, electronics, armor... ship may look like they all do, but this freighter tramp can do things it was never meant to do! Truly a hot rodded tramp ship - “fastest ship in the galaxy”, but pushing everything to the absolute limit DOES come with some maintenance and reliability problems...
Born as Solomon Hano, "Sol" was a restless soul from the beginning. He wasn't never much of a student, not because he didn't have brains, but because he didn't have the patience. Kicked out of every school, job and eventually from home, he found his true calling and the one thing he was good at; trading. And charming girls, as an additional asset, but was also a burden. Girls loved him, but their boyfriends... not so much. He wasn't much of a fighter either, so he just usually avoided it and disappeared through the window half naked, never to be seen again.
Like any other teenager in a similar situation, he felt that he was wasting his life, but didn't really know what to do. And like so many others, he foolishly thought that enlisting in the army would save him... that would be a great chance to get away from life he didn't like, broaden the horizons, learn new skills... just like the recruiter said.
Flying seemed natural to him according to the test centre, so after the basic training he was transferred to an aviation school. He wanted to be a jet pilot, but got the short straw: dreaded mobile air cavalry, operating troop and supply dropships beyond the frontlines. Average lifetime for the pilots was counted in months, and the forward observation posts were little more than tents and reinforced dug-outs, out in the scorching hot deserts, hot as hell jungles or butt-freezin snowy tundras.
Everyone he served with agreed that his flying skills were excellent, but that was not the reason why he was every grunt's favourite pilot. His greatest skill was survival, staying alive. When others lost lives and limbs left and right, he didn’t get a scratch... pure luck or gut feeling, or a 6th sense? Sol had also the reputation of being an outstanding wheeler dealer. What he learned on the streets as a kid, he truly polished to an art while he was ferrying supplies and troops - give him just one cigar, and he'll soon return after a few trade-ups with a box full of Whiskey!
There was one incident though which even Sol couldn't save: he was caught in bed with a divisional commander's daughter - literally pants down, and in full action... Soon after that he was dishonorably discharged from the service, and Sol found himself once again without any money, place to live or purpose in life. Only thing he knew was how to fly ships and trade... so no wonder he soon found himself in the smuggling business, starting small, but moving on to more risky deals fast - like he said to his friends: they paid better, and he didn't have a family to worry about.
LIFE GOALS Yeah, so what? It's risky, but I have a good feeling about this... c'mon, what could happen? This will be a walk in the park, trust me.
To make money, lots of it, and have fun! And maybe gamble a little, and enjoy the occasional glass of whisky with a fat cigar... not forgetting beutiful women and sex, obviously. And NO detailed plans whatsoever. life happens, and sometimes you get lucky, sometimes... less so. You just have to roll with the punches.