Futuristic Hyperlane 83 CS

[Petroshka]

Discord Link: Join the Hyperlane 83 Discord Server!

Basics
Name: Aliases(nicknames, titles etc):
Age:
Sex:
Race: (you can come up with your own but give a description and put it in lores section)

Physique (image substitute allowed)
Hair style/color:
Eye style/color:
Height:
Weight:
Extra features (scars, cybernetics, extra bits, etc):

Personality:
Beliefs:
Quirks: (you can also write some extended explanations of their personality in greater detail if you wish.)

Origins
History:
What the crew knows about your history:
Nation (Come up with your own and give a description or use ones in lore section):
Planet (Come up with your own and give a description or use ones in lore section):
Previous Profession: (what did they do before becoming part of the Chattaan's crew?)
Role on the ship: (what is their role while crew of the Chattaan?)
Job description: (discription of above)
Skill set: (what is your character good at?)

Traits
Addictions/Vices: (minimum of one)
Abilities: (what special thing can they do?)

 

[Petroshka]

Spoiler: Raura

• Basics
• Descriptive
• Personal
• Origins
• Traits

• 
  Name: Raura
  Aliases: Valvet Ashera
  Age: 34
  Sex: Female
  Race: Human
  
• 
  Physique
  Hair style/color: Very unkempt ponytail, white hair.
  Eye style/color: Golden
  Height: 6'4"
  Weight: 220lbs
  Extra features: Lean and fit from her days working as a mercenary and assassin. Scars pockmarking her chest, arms, legs, and belly, a memorial to her old wounds. No visible augmentations cybernetic or genetic.
  
• 
  Personality: Hiding her thoughts and feelings behind a false sense of overconfidence, Raura may, on surface value, appear to be a loud extrovert with no sense of privacy sometimes even a blundering idiot. She loves talking to her crew who she quickly attempts to make her friends through teasing and light hearted jokes, getting to know them and their capabilities, after all she was their boss. She does take her own privacy and others very seriously, making sure none of the crew talk about each other when outsiders are around, she also tries to keep her fake background as former soldier of the GTU the only thing known about her. After all what would her crew think if they knew she was a wanted criminal? Of course this means shes not above hiring ex convicts, as long as they don't overtly go back to their criminal ways, at least the parts that would harm the crew in anyway and maybe do the parts that benefit the ship.
  
  Raura is a woman that has only known one thing throughout most of her life, fighting and caring for her sister. The ship and her crew is a shot at something different for once, a life of the often talked about peaceful times when she was growing up. Getting a glimpse of its complexities through her time in Amarkun she had an idea of whats to come and eagerly jumped into it full throttle, securing the Chattaan and hiring herself a crew. Although Raura is generally a chill person she is easily annoyed and will get increasingly aggressive no matter who is the one she is annoyed with, eventually even getting violent. She stays up late going through several days without sleep, keeping herself awake with exercise and a generous amount of coffee, causing her to have bags under her eyes, only willing herself to sleep once they're near planetfall for business.
  
  Beliefs: Raura, doesnt really have something she could say she "believes in" except for a loosely defined set of morals.
  Quirks: None
  
• 
  History:
  Born in Aibos II during the height of the civil wars from various different factions, Raura didnt have a normal childhood, she and her younger sister Kaura were abandoned at a young age and were taken in by one of the fighting sides. They were given limited education, and Raura being the older sister was made to fight for their cause, learning how to use a gun she was aimed at the enemy. Eight years in this planet, she fought for causes she never really understood, eight years caring for her sister and keeping her away from the fighting. The situation didn't change until the Kenra corporation came in with all their mercenaries, suddenly did the battlefield got a lot more dangerous with drones in the skies and heavily armed and trained mercenaries roamed the streets "peacekeeping."
  
  As things seemed bleak for Raura and her sister, something unfortunate happened, an older mercenary and his crew busted down the headquarters of the organization that took in Raura and Kaura. Arresting everyone while they were unprepared, something unusual for most of the Kenra mercenaries. While they were rounding people up Raura and Kaura happened to be deeper within the hq giving them time to react, Raura got some weapons together and told Kaura to stay quiet while she attempted to kill everyone. Quietly set set off on her mission, practically growing up for eight years she had called the headquarters home, meaning she knew the layout quite well. Using the various passage ways and vents she got around to where the mercs didn't expect and struck them from there, using the element of surprise she managed to catch some off guard, shooting them before they had time to react. But soon the mercenaries adjusted to their new foe and managed to find her sister, bringing out in the open to lure Raura, she bursted into the open but before she could do anything she was shot with incapacitating rounds to the stomach, dropping her violently to the floor.
  
  The older merc walked up to Raura as she was convulsing on the floor lashing out against anyone coming near her, and for some reason her wild nature made him interested. Hearing her sister yell out to her Raura could only see a blurry image of her sister as tears stung her eyes, the last thing she saw was the barrel of a gun before it flashed white.
  
  Waking up in a cell she looked around seeing her sister asleep next to her, getting up a intense pain ran throughout her stomach, which was bandaged up, it seemed she was treated for. Immediately Raura got up and tried to find a way out of the cell, trying to find any tool she can use to break open the lock but there were none. All she could do was to attempt to keep Kaura safe, expecting to be sold off to slavery or something worse, she couldn't expect what was coming to her. After a few hours of silence and waiting the older merc came down to the holding cell, with what awaited him were two girls, the almost feral one that had killed his men and a quiet one that only spoke to her sister. Pulling up a stool near their cell he sat down and offered them a deal, join his crew, or get sold off to slavery, the choice was clear.
  
  Joining the old mercs military attache, and officially being a member of Kenra corp, Raura and Kaura were trained and retrained on how to operate with the mercenary band. Raura obviously had a knack for shooting and fighting, while Kaura had a knack for electronics and curiously enough, strategy. Together they fought alongside each other through thick and thin and even made a name for themselves. But for Raura, there was a growing concern for her sister, numerous times throughout their sorties she has shown, distasteful tendencies. The concern for her sister was quickly subsided when Kaura was promoted to a higher position in Kenra, taking her away from the frontlines. The old merc told Raura that they were probably interested in her electronic capabilities and strategy, which filled Raura with hope, Kaura was never that good with the gun which means she may be in lower risk places.
  
  After a few years Raura and Kaura were separated and got to meet up every few months or so, but it all changed when Raura got an offer from the legendary Amarkun, they promised her high pay and security. Though she wasnt interested in either she believed leaving Kenra would make her sister less worried about her and so left the old mercs mercenary band without telling anyone. During her time with Amarkun she was retrained once again to work as a lone wolf, how to erase her steps and how to stay quiet. Then she was sent off out into the galaxy claiming the lives of various politicians, crime lords, and leaders of organizations. This had gotten her into a very wanted individual and Raura even enjoyed the work, she wouldve stayed there if it wasnt for her last job, which was to kill her sister Kaura.
  
  Immediately She went rogue, using her skills and talent to disappear from all networks staying quiet for a while, she drifted to and fro, moving from planet to planet by being a stowaway onboard random ships and hijacking a few. How she came to the Chattaan is a mystery but her reasoning for wanting a ship like it was to simply have somewhere to call her home, once and for all.
  
  What the crew knows about your history: All what Raura has given the crew was that she was once a part of the military, for what nation, she would say The Greater Terran Union, but if any GTU citizen questions or mentions anything GTU related, she wont be able to answer. Outside of the military she would say she grew up in a not so well off family and joined the military when she could, and when she left she found herself in this business.
  
  Nation: None
  Planet: Aibos II
  Previous Profession: Military
  Role on the ship: Captain
  Job description: Raura commands the ship, making sure everything and everyone is working how they're supposed to and keeping up with everyone on the ship.
  Skill set: Limited piloting, Leadership, Stealth, Sharpshooting, Hand to hand combat, Negotiating, and Limited gun smithing.
  
• 
  Addictions/Vices: Coffee, Alcohol, Drugs, and Violence.
  Abilities: Weapon master: Raura is proficient with any weapon that she chooses for the situation.
  Hawkish precision: Having her way around most amounts of ranged weapons, she is familiar with them and how they will act or react giving her a good sense of where and when the projectile goes and hits.
  Resilient: Being brought up with war all around her, Raura's body as grown tolerant to damage and resistant to minor scratches and cuts. She also has untold amounts of stamina bulit up from both her upbringing and her previous professions where resilence is a requirement to survive.
  
  

 

[Wandering Grim Hollow]

• Basics
• Descriptive
• Personal
• Origins
• Traits

• 
  
  Name: Adrian H.Shepard
  
  Aliases: The (Mad) Doktor
  
  Age: 32 (Maybe)
  
  Sex: Male (Biologically), Female (Mentally)
  
  Race: Human
  
  
• 
  
  Physique
  
  
  
  
  Hair style/color: Black
  
  Eye style/color: Yellow
  
  Height: 178cm
  
  Weight: 60kg
  
  Extra features: Surgical scars on torso and chest.
  
  
• 
  
  Personality: Cynical, sarcastic, and borderline insane. The good doctor is a few stabilizers short of a proper pill. Adrian also prefers keeping to himself and staying in the Sick Bay or his quarters, usually working on whatever mini-project he has his hands on or being high off Smilax. In regards to the other crew, he has a policy of "You don't annoy me, and I'll behave". The only person he doesn't have this policy on being the Captain herself due to a sense of gratitude on allowing him on-board and giving him a semblance of a job. But that still won't stop him from being snarky towards the Captain.
  
  Beliefs: Seemingly none except a loosely followed version of the Hippocratic Oath and an almost non-existent set of morals.
  
  Quirks: Likes to refer to people via nicknames. Doubly so if it gets a rise out of them.
  
  
• 
  
  History:
  When life gives you lemons, make lemonade right? Well what if you end up using oranges or maybe some unknown toxic kind of citrus? The good Doctor's life began as many did. Born on a human colony to semi-decent parents whose idea of raising a kid was to ship them of to boarding school. This kid then ended up on the Dean's List before graduating into Medical School and getting a Doctorate in Neurobiology with a minor in Pharmaceutical Science. Things were pretty swell as far as life is concerned. A big bonus came in when the Doctor found love, an engineer and a rather romantic one at that. They were soon wed and their jobs were stable and the credit flow was decent. Yeah. Life was going smoothly.
  
  Until one day, it was a simple request. Mind transfer technology to help give people whose bodies are beyond help another chance at life. The Doctor knew it was borderline impossible, not to mention the moral questions if the damn thing worked. But the credits were too good and their spouse was supportive. Why not? Nothing ventured, nothing gained, no? Due to the lack of volunteers and time, the Doctor decided to use herself and her husband as test subjects. A simple test, transfer each other's mind to the another and then switch it back. As fate would have it, it worked perfectly. For the Doctor. Her husband's mind just shut down and her body entered a coma. Her mind now stuck in her husband's body, she is working tirelessly to fix it. She lost her job, her medical liscence, and the love of her life. Everything spiralled out of control as even her own mind is beginning to reject the body its in. So to fix it, she applied for a seemingly simple job as a ship doctor. Pay seemed good and the Captain accepted anyone with no questions asked. Good enough for the Doctor.
  
  Hm? Is the Doctor the woman or the man? Well she's a man now and the man is in her comatose body. Simple no?
  
  What the crew knows: Snarky Doctor lost their medical lisence doing something shady. Ends up as the Ship Doctor to run away from something.
  
  Nation: NIL (At least anymore)
  
  Planet: Not important
  
  Previous Profession: Neurologist, Surgeon, Unliscensed underground clinic doctor
  
  Role on the ship: Ship Doctor
  
  Job description: Ensure the health and well-being of both the crew and any living cargo the ship is hauling. Also in-charge of safeguarding and checking of narcotics and other cargo of medical or pharmaceutical nature.
  
  Skill set: Ph.D in Neurology with a minor in Pharmaceuticals, Lisenced (Formerly) surgeon, Proficient with handguns and knives.
  
  
• 
  
  Addictions/Vices: Drinking, Recreational Drug use (Smilax)
  
  Abilities: Is a skilled surgeon and can quickly identify poisons or drugs based on symptoms.
  
  

 

[AiDEE-c0]

• Basics
• Descriptive
• Personal
• Origins
• Traits

• 
  
  Name: Irena Reynolds
  Aliases: 2-7B-Eugene (Former), Eugene (Callsign, or if necessary under differing circumstances)
  Age: Late Twenties
  Sex: Female
  Race: Human
  
  
• 
  
  
  Spoiler: Physique

  
  
  Hair style/color: A short-cut, side-swept haircut of brown color.
  Eye color: Pale Blue
  Height: 167cm
  Weight: 75kg
  Extra features: Small, circular augments around the head area.
  
  
• 
  
  Personality: Irena is a self-confident person, even boastful to a point, the type to slightly overblow victory and brush defeat under the rug. She is always on the look-out for action, having an impatience problem and easily falling into boredom. Being a talkative type, the only thing that makes long-distance travel through the empty vastness of space managable to her is a good conversation with some interesting people. She tries to keep most people at her good side, but, when there is someone who she dislikes, it's never anything less than absolute spite.
  
  As a former officer, Irena also appreciates a good mystery, although she has a tendency of getting frustrated as soon as two and two don't make four together. Still, not considering the real-life equivalent of ragequitting as a failed investigation, only a postponed one, her track record is nothing but a sure 100%. In her pursuit of thrill, Irena has also picked up a light gambling addiction, spending a good part of her leisure time with games of chance.
  
  Beliefs: Her broken vision of the correct police procedures. Nothing religion-wise.
  Quirks: A whole lot of finger-tapping and frantic leg movements.
  
  
• 
  
  History: Born into a well-off family as a single child on Earth, Irena never faced much struggle in her childhood. She crawled through primary and secondary education without any major trouble, and always envisioned for herself a noble and exciting future. When time came to attend College, Irena persued a degree in Criminal Justice, once again succeeding in a better-than-average fashion. Without hesitation, she applied for a job at her local PD as soon as was possible, passing the examinations, physical tests, interviews and twenty weeks of Police Academy, before finally being placed into the field, for now under the supervision of a Senior officer FTO.
  
  Through a few months of trial and error, along with bonding rather well with her senior, Irena eventually achieved status as a fully pledged cop, patrolling her birth-town, handing out tickets, and more rarely, investigating robberies or theft in the area. It wouldn't be until two years later, when a surprise shoot-out took place, that everything started taking an immense, sour turn. In the crossfire, a multitude of civilians and policefolk alike lost their lives, among them Irena's partner and former FTO, much to the young officer's enragement.
  
  Vowing to herself that she would track and put down the orchestrators of the attack, Irena initiated her descent into violated jurisdiction. When questioned, she made up nonsensical nexuses and unreasonable excuses, and all warnings were issued in vain, ignored. Due to this, Irena, soon enough, found herself stripped of rank and discharged by the department, left to her own devices in her search. In a fit of desperation, she not only turned to ingesting unhealthy amounts of booze, but also, on the day of her dischargement, still in the process of handing over all semblances of uniform, convinced a questionably legal spot to install small augmentations to her body, which would serve to aid in her "hunt." These range from an improved-hearing device, to a toggled, holographic visor, aiding aim and investigation.
  
  However, no matter how hard she attempted, no progress was made. Skipping forward another year or two, the grief would be shaken off from Irena's mind, and her optimistic and hopeful outlook towards life began resurfacing again, although the bad habit of alcoholism, accompanied by a newly manifested gambling problem, withstood this test of time. From then on, instead of persuing vengeful revenge, Irena chased towards an eager chance at a comeback. Packing up her six plums, she headed herself outwards, aimed at the stars, looking up and around for any job opportunities that might also end up leading her in the correct direction of her goals.
  
  By luck, when once upon a dumpster planet in the middle of nowhere, Irena locked paths with a small group of people travelling among a cargo vessel, bearing the name of Chattaan, landing for the purpose of refuelling. Intrigued and overhearing occasional tidbits of conversation, she eventually ended up taking off along with the ship's crew, after professing her interest in travelling with, and explaining her situation. That was an incident of few months back, and since then, Irena has become a mostly-sold member of the Chattaan's crew, lending her talents as required, excited at the prospects of just what the future might bring.
  
  Known to Crew: The crew would know Irena to be a former officer, still in grasp of a good part of her old equipment, pretty much destitute at the time of her joining. The only specific would be her home planet, for unless directly asked, Irena has little reason to reveal much more.
  
  Nation: The Earth Federation (Formerly)
  Planet: Earth (Formerly)
  Previous Profession: Member of the Federation's Police force
  Role on the ship: Primarily rifleman, secondarily information gatherer.
  Job description: Irena never leaves the premises of the Chattaan without a plasma rifle at hand, using it to protect her crew and eliminate any threats that may dare to assault it. In non-combat situations, she occasionally goes out of her way to seek out information about individuals, places and then like, whenever felt like needed.
  Skill set: Marksmanship, investigative work, knowledge of criminal law, piloting skills.
  
  
• 
  
  Addictions/Vices: Alcoholism, gambling
  Abilities: Quick and efficient investigation, mostly thanks to her installed assist augments.
  
  

 

[Shindoku]

• Basics
• Descriptive
• Personal
• Origins
• Traits

• Name: J-377Y
  Alias: Jetty
  Age: 42 Sex: N/A (Programmed male) Race: Multifunctional Droid
• Physique
  
  Hair style/color: N/A
  Eye style/color: Varies on mood
  Height: Varies from 4'5 to 6'6 depending on current leg extension
  Weight: 500 pounds
  Extra features (scars, cybernetics, extra bits, etc): Interchangeable parts for different cleaning jobs including but not limited to, plunger, scrubber, 5 finger hand, buffer, and hose
• Personality: Jetty is a well oiled machine (literally) hard working, making tough jobs seem effortless, while he is programmed to do anything from cargo manifolds to being a co-pilot (although he isn't confident in his skills) he feels most at home with a broom or mop in his hand. But when someone initiates physical conflicts with Jetty he changes, his mop turning from a simple cleaning tool to a weapon of mess destruction, and when he is finished with you... he will clean up the blood, bone fragments, and broken teeth with a happy whistle.
  Beliefs: "Squeeze the mop out every 60 seconds" "Sweep left to right not right to left" "If you spill coffee on the rug you will be going out the airlock" "Report immediately to liquid based messes in the cockpit"
  Quirks: Jetty has a slight glitch in his programming causing him to be a bit of a smart-ass, he is still effective in his job but he will make sly comments on current situations, and pop a few jokes which is very out of character for his kind of droid which are usually near silent
  Ooc knowledge: Jetty has actually gained a form of sentience as a robot due to the glitch in his programming, although he still enjoys cleaning so he continues to do so. He doesnt try to hide his sentience, just some people dont notice.
  
• History: Jetty was one of the original janitorial robots in his line, being within the first 500 of his type of robot. He has worked on everything from single man aircraft in a hangar to massive space stations, after about 15 years of service, glitches started occurring in his programming, slowly but surely granting him sentience. This allowed him to actually enjoy his job, and to learn other jobs, he has served as quarter master, co pilot, maintenance chief, and there was a year or so where he was renamed to Fisto (that was a really weird year for him), but he always finds himself returning to his cleaning duties. Now he finds himself on a freighter ship, recently hired by the captain and put to work, within days he has gotten the ship in tip top shape and is more than ready to keep it that way.
  Nation: Earth Federation
  Planet: Earth
  Previous Profession: Janitorial bot on several space stations/star ships
  Role on the ship: Janitor
  Job description: Maintain ship cleanliness both in and outside, Ship maintenance.
  Skill set: Cleaning, Repairs, minor combat modifications for self defense
• 
  Addictions/Vices: Issue with programming makes him a bit of a smart ass. Very protective of newly cleaned areas.
  Abilities: Quick repair (fix a major ship system temporarily or a minor one fully) Clean: Clean an area over the course of X minutes (varies based on mess)

 

[Crumbli]

• Basics
• Descriptive
• Personal
• Origins

• Name: Delphine Ursa
  Aliases: Whisper
  Age: 32
  Sex: Female
  Race: Conifes - a humanoid race with large canines and additional limbs.
  
• 
  
  Hair style/colour: Delphine's long and messy black hair reach down to the tip of her tail bone and while it may seem neglected due to its uncooperative nature, it maintains a healthy gloss. In short her hair is long, curly, unruly and black.
  Eye style/colour: Two large, pale brown eyes.
  Height: 5'1" | 155 cm
  Weight: 95 lbs | 43 kg
  Extra features: Naturally sharp/pointed finger tips.
  
• Personality: Delphine once may have been a polite and quiet girl but has since changed into the lying and manipulative women many see today. From the outside she presents herself to be polite but somewhat forceful in getting what she desires. Beyond that however she's a jaded cynic whose moral convictions have been long abandoned. To say the ends justifies the means would be a stretch of her integrity as in her eyes her life is the most important thing. When not in danger she's quite reasonable with the crew but when in peril she'd willingly kill the rest of the crew just to buy herself an extra day.
  Beliefs: As a girl she was forced to follow the religion known as Many Fingers. While not a believer in the religion itself anymore, she does still believe in some of their doctrines such as self preservation, behaving politely, and never bringing physical harm onto an equal without just reason.
  Quirks: Constantly rubbing her eyes.
  
  Addictions/Vices: Chronic liar, a substance known as Glass.
  Abilities: Possesses three sets of fully articulate arms, has a (metaphorical) silver tongue, criminal connections.
• History: Delphine was born and raised as a relatively well to do Conifes on Olophon, her people's native planet. Her father was a high ranking officer for the military and her mother was the founder of one of the biggest sentient cattle farming companies on the planet. Certainly the largest of its kind in their empire. For the majority of her early life she had no one to call a friend and only had the company of paid helpers as well as her family. She was the first born child so even her siblings that came to be plentiful in numbers later in her life weren't there for her when she needed them the most. She was tutored by private teachers who had since retired from their professions and provided her with their undivided attention. For a child, this was a special and very studious kind of hell.
  
  The first time Delphine interacted with a person her age was at the age of 13 where she enrolled in a prestigious officer's academy not to join the military, but to network. She was enrolled for two years before being moved to an even more acclaimed institution where the business minded and politically important sent their children. While there she excelled in quite a few areas such as etiquette, arts, and law. It seemed she would be a judge or some other kind of person of power in the legal system but at the age of 18, four years away from graduating, she was informed by her mother that she'd arranged a partnership for her. The man in question was 47 and was the captain of one of the Unions' few astral warships. She acted overjoyed for her mother but deep down detested the very idea.
  
  She shared her story with the friends she'd made at her institute and found that many of them had similar stories. One of them had been arranged to marry a 74 year old man who was currently the acting governor of a not-too-distant town and another was being married off to the son of a transport company's owner. Delphine was comforted by the fact she wasn't alone in her uncomfortable situation but after further discussion realised that her friend and her friend's future husband, the son of a transport company owner, were fairly disappointed in their situation and wished someone could break the mould. Delphine was the most suitable candidate they could find.
  
  Over the course of a year Delphine and her friends worked tirelessly to track export ships and where they stopped. Eventually, when the time was right, they stuffed her inside one of the food transports and bribed the driver to stay silent with a bonus. The driver made sure she was in good health during the journey and dropped her off at one of the less savoury checkpoints where a smuggler was waiting. He took her on board and instead of dropping her off where she was meant to do the two stayed together for a few years. In that time he introduced her to the underbelly of the galaxy and showed her signs of a dealer and the sorts of places she should wait to find the lucrative jobs. With the amount of time the pair spent around junkies and dealers, it was no surprise when she found a few substances she enjoyed the company of.
  
  She stayed loyal to the smuggler right up until he started forcing her to do things. Sometimes they'd be actions, other times they'd be saying things. She felt like she'd become his property. On one night she put her foot down in a drug den during a smuggling deal negotiation with a small time cartel and the moment he made a fist to hit her he found himself set upon by the hired muscle. The cartel said it was their one good deed for the week and sent her on her way. She sold the smuggler's ship for some easy money and found she didn't have anywhere to go. She spoke to the cartel about things she could do for them where they introduced her to the wonderful world of dealing. With this new profession she was taken to one of the more rural worlds on the fringes of human occupied space and began to deal in their cities.
  
  The constant exposure to the Glass she was dealing and the fact she had to constantly show new buyers how to use it meant she grew very familiar with the substance. That familiarity developed into an addiction. The cartel didn't approve of dealers using their own supply but what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them, or so she thought. After barely two years the cartel sent more people to planet to try and figure out where the supply was going missing. This is where Delphine's troubles really begin.
  She sought out the other local gang and told them she'd been dealing for the previous cartel and that they were now wrongfully trying to hunt her down because she'd stopped being of use. She also offered them the location of their Glass storehouses. In an attempt to play the gangs off of each other she sparked a fairly large scale gang war before leaving the planet on a ship she paid for with stolen Glass money. This pattern of playing gangs off of each other became one of her core tactics in making money until she encountered a more professional gang that was in the false market business. They'd heard of her making trouble and instead of selling her out they blackmailed her into selling fake bonds. She stayed with them until she was twenty-eight and left that gang on remarkably good terms.
  
  She joined two more gangs who seemed to focus on counterfeit goods and attempted to play them off of each other. Unlike with the dealing gangs, these gangs didn't go to war with each other. They simply talked things over openly and honestly and found her to be lying. When chaos didn't ensue and she found herself in possession of a lot of money with no one willing to take it, she panicked. They put out a warning to their contacts to return her to them so they could make an example of her when fate favoured her. A smuggler new to the system came in and before they could get to her she paid this new smuggler a sizable sum of money for 'no questions asked' travel aboard her ship the 'Chattaan'. The smuggler agreed and while on board Delphine saw an opportunity. Someone she could partner up with so when she played gangs off of each other she'd always have an escape.
  
  Delphine used every trick in the book to try and sell herself as a solid member for the crew. She showed the captain her people skills, how she was willing to help around the ship, how she wasn't afraid to deal with illegal things, helped the captain track down dealers with a good supply, and most importantly how to haggle. She was mostly honest in telling her about herself trying to get the captain to empathize, adding in a few sad details and covering up the bits about her turning gangs on one another. In time, her lack of moral integrity and her willingness to do about anything to keep herself on board must have worn away at the captain because over a year later she's still on board the ship.
  
  What the crew knows about your history: While Delphine's past is a mystery to some of the crew. The majority knew about her native planet, a few custom quirks she's shared, and the fact she came from a relatively privileged life before running away. Her story can change details here and there but for the most part remains the same until she talks about leaving her homeworld. Sometimes she complains it's too emotional for her, other times she states fleeing to entirely different systems. Her inconsistencies can easily be written off however by the use of illicit substances that she is rather open about doing.
  
  Nation: Imperial Unions of Olophon (previously)
  Planet: Olophon (previously)
  Previous Profession: Dealer and Conman.
  Role on the ship: Book Keeper/General Charlatan.
  Job description: Keeper of the ship's funds and stock. A connection into the worlds of illicit substances and a seller of false goods such as fake bonds, shares, miracle cures and more.
  Skill set: Can talk a spider off its web, has very proficient 'assets' and is willing to use them in negotiations, has no moral issues with anything.
  

 

[Kokurai Gaisgeach]

​

• Basics
• Descriptive
• Personal
• Origins
• Traits

• 
  Name: James P. Kobayashi
  Aliases: "JP"
  Age: 23
  Sex: M
  Race: Human
  
  
• 
  
  Hair style/color: Black
  Eye style/color: Blue
  Height: 5'9 / 175cm
  Weight: 155 lbs
  Extra features (scars, cybernetics, extra bits, etc): Both arms are Cybernetic yet natural looking. Body type is Androgynous.
  
• 
  Personality: An honorbound warrior of Eruzeon, James is one of the nicest person you'll meet who would no doubt assist a fellow shipmate in trouble as long it is deemed honorable and under the orders of the Captain's ship.
  Beliefs: Born under the Eruzeon flag. he is taught in the ways of the warrior wherein he believes in Honor, Bravery, Compassionate towards others, and being all round Respectful. Albeit gets embarrassed if one joked about his Androgynous body.
  Quirks: Tends to twirl his Cigar or Cigarette.
  
• 
  History: A Veteran of the war for Eruzeon Independence, Little is known about his life prior to joining the Eruzian Navy sometime in his late teens. When he was young, James was fascinated by spacecrafts to which he dreamed of serving in, he frequently studied every known Eruzian built Spacecraft blueprints and some of the Earth Fed and GTU ships which gave him the knowledge of mechanical work when he finally served in the Military.
  
  When Eruzea declared its independence from he Federation, James joined the Naval Fighter Squadron as a Pilot and became a successful ace before he himself got shot down by an orange colored experimental Starfighter, losing both of his arms due to severe injuries after ejecting, fortunately his fortunes he gained in war meant he managed to afford to have a Cybernetic limb replacement and rejoined the military as a mechanic up until the end of the conflict. Feeling content that he served a worthy cause. James retired from military service. and went on to pursue his dream of serving aboard an ordinary spacefaring ship.
  
  What the crew knows about your history: The Friendliest Eruzean Ex-Military Pilot and Mechanic you'll meet who also knows his way in doing Comm officer work, probably his Military background.
  Nation: Principality of Eruzeon
  Planet: Eruzea
  Previous Profession: Space Fighter Pilot and Craft Mechanic.
  Role on the ship: Mechanic
  Job description: Keeps the Ship at perfect or optimal running condition.
  Skill set: Piloting expertise(Able to withstand higher Gs than most people), Trained in all manners of combat, Knows his way around the wrench in repairing things.
  
• 
  Addictions/Vices: Habitual Smoker of Tobacco, loved the taste.
  Abilities: Quick Fixer, able to repair parts of the ship quickly and some times improving it even more.
  

 

[Royalblue127]

• Basics
• Descriptive
• Personal
• Origins
• Traits

• Name: Corvus Veilon
  
  Aliases: Emrys, Blue-hat (Hacker Tags)
  
  Age: 24
  
  Sex: M
  
  Race: Human
  
• 
  
  
  Hair style/color: Black,
  
  Eye style/color: Blue
  
  Height: 6' 2''
  
  Weight: 185
  
  Extra features: Small barcode tattoo on left arm
  
• 
  Personality: Corvus is relatively friendly, but has trouble talking with others. He prefers spending time alone, and spends a lot of his free time reading or playing the newest pirated game.
  
  Beliefs: He has a very strong moral compass, and hates when people take advantage of others. His hacking is mostly against corrupt corporations and people, or protecting good ones from malicious hackers.
  
  Quirks: He's a closet nerd, and has the full dnd book set in electronic form. Also don't touch his stuff, he's very OCD about where things should be.
  
• 
  History: Born on Dextra, Corvus was raised by his loving parents, as they worked as labor in Dexterous Manufacturers, a computer manufacturing warehouse. They weren't very well off, but he worked hard and got great grades. He had a few close friends as a child, and overall he had a happy first couple of years. However, the company that his parents worked at started to phase out human workers at that warehouse, and put machines in their place. Due to a law put in place by the colony government, you couldn't lay off anyone without a severance package or securing them new work. This caused the company problems, as they didn't have anywhere to send their former employees, and didn't want to pay them. All of a sudden, more and more of his parents colleagues started to disappear. While the official statement was that they were sent to off-world jobs, Corvus hadn't heard from any of his friends that had left with their parents.
  
  So Corvus started to teach himself how to code, taking the extra class in school about programing and website building. He also began to experiment with new tech, and built his own phaser by the time he was 12. He slowly began to stretch into hacking, and began to look into the companies private files. When he was a teenager, he finally found the file hidden in a ghost folder in a ghost database. All of his friends, all of his parents partners, all of them were being sold into slavery. When Corvus saw that his parents were next on the list of firings, he acted quickly. He hacked into the machines running the factory, and using viruses had them destroy themselves. He even sneaked into the factory part of the warehouse and set of a localized EMP, destroying what was left of the assembly line. He then sent the info on the company to the local government, and sat back as the fireworks began. This was his first mistake, as when the company executives were arrested, the warehouse fell into ruin. His parents were given a severance package, but their expertise wasn't useful on the planet anymore. So, they moved to a asteroid belt around the star, where his father was sent to work on the solar power cells, and his mother watching over the mining bots.
  
  He had a lot of time to himself at this new station, as there weren't any other kids there. He began to work online to research and destroy other corrupt groups. He began to become a internet phenomena, and by the time he was twenty had destroyed several major companies by exposing their crimes to the public. The Earth Federation had placed him as a highly dangerous Vigilante, and the price on his head was rising by the day. This was when he made a fatal mistake. He left his ip in a backwater server after finishing off a drug ring, and it was traced back to his parents station. He was almost caught, but escaped the station with a retrofitted shuttle. He's now on the run, and has been jumping planets to find a place to lay low for a while, before setting up again.
  
  Company: Dexterous Manufacturers: Built out from Dextra, the company is well known in the outer worlds for cheap and good quality computers. After a PR incident about slavery on their home planet, they managed to survive by bribing every official they met, and generous donations to public works projects. They are on the down low for now, and while slightly vilified are seen as reformed by the people of the galaxy at large. They don't engage in the slave trade anymore, but have branched off into offshore banking and fraud schemes.
  
  Planet: Dextra is a arid planet, 3rd from their sun. A small colony, it resembles a oasis all the way around the planet. With no major oceans, the colony is centered on the largest lake, and mostly gets it's foodstuffs from a few major farms in the north.
  
  Previous Profession: White-hat Hacker, tinkerer
  
  Role on the ship: Ship IT, Quartermaster
  
  Job description: Works with ship tech, finds info for jobs, and hacks security if they ever have to leave in a hurry
  
  Skill set: Good at hacking and modifying, but ship doesn't know about his past.
  
• 
  Addictions/Vices: Extreme Caffeine Addiction
  
  Abilities: Expert Hacker, Reprogrammer, and can sometimes modify weapons. He is constantly tinkering, and you never know what he'll come up with next.

 

[Foxhound]

• Basics
• Descriptive
• Personal
• Origins
• Traits

• 
  Name: Hermann Klaus Schmidt (Formerly Mr. Snuggles)
  
  Age: 23 Human years
  
  Sex: M
  
  Race: Earth-born cat
  
  
• 
  Physique:
  Spoiler: Physique

  
  
  Hairstyle/color: Cat-ish, Grey and white fur
  
  Eye style/color: Yellow, feline
  
  Height: 35cm
  
  Weight: 8.8kg
  
  Extra features: Human Ears, black carbon fiber collar
  
  
• 
  Personality: Usually neutral to every other sentient lifeform, unless he's interested in its ears. If that's the case he spends a lot of his time just wandering around said individual or even follows it around. On the other hand, although super intelligent, he's still a cat inside. That means he's really moody when he doesn't get enough sleep and quite a perfectionist. When it comes to his beliefs he tries not to talk about the "Cat superiority thing" but will more than happily argue about practically anything else. Often sarcastic.
  
  Beliefs: Believes in the superiority of cats over any other race. Atheist.
  
  Quirks: Scratching his ears way too often. Obsessed with ears and foreign technologies.
  
  
• 
  History: Still WIP
  Hermann (Mr. Snuggles by that time) was a test subject number N042I in a secret outer space bio-augmentation laboratory. The research was financed by GTU and was a life-work of one scientist. M.D Klaus Schwarz. (The lab was completely automated and equipped with an AI to help him with any task.) His task was to develop next-gen bio-augmentations for GTU special operations. Klaus himself was obsessed with animal senses and neural fusion. He spent 40 years of his life alone, developing the perfect augmentation. After many unsuccessful attempts, he changed his plans. The only true augment isn't an upgrade. It's a replacement. He developed a neural drift. A machine that would allow him to link his brain to the brain of the subject and directly reprogram it. That allowed him to successfully transplant any animal organ. He tested the drift on a couple of dozens of animals. Only mammals were compatible. Cats the most. So he took the cat with the highest brain activity - Mr. Snuggles. Klaus transplanted the cat ears and replaced them with his own. Then he performed another drift to finish the reprogramming. It worked. He had functional cat ears wit hall the benefits. Another tens of drifts were made with Mr.Snuggles in preparations for another operation. A lot bigger one. Klaus wanted to have full control over the cat body using his masterpiece. But during the last drift, the program backfired. It worked the opposite way, disconnecting everything in scientists body from his brain, leaving just the brain which was locked in the drift and thus protected as part of it. (The brain was wiped absolutely clean by the reprograming failure.) Now program prioritized the cat as an operator. Mr.Snuggles was reborn. He was awake but still connected to the drift, using inactive but living human brain as a neural extension for his intellect. Mr.Snuggles was aware of his existence and wanted answers.
  
  Although the brain was wiped clean fragments of it apparently fused with Mr.Snuggles' and important information was temporarily stored inside the drift. Mr.Snuggles searched through it. But the only useful things he could find concerned GTU and a few names - Hermann, Klaus, and Schmidt. He accepted these as his own because he wasn't aware of his real name. Now treated as an operator he used the AI and automated lab systems and salvaged most of the station excluding the construction and life support. He made himself a containment pod. A suit of armor to carry him around and protect his neural extension, using the artificial nutrition cells to keep it alive. And so The Carapace was created. He also integrated the stations AI inside to help him with managing the construct running. (The Carapace itself is just an armored torso. Any limbs or other equipment mounted are just modifications.) Using his newfound intelligence and "body", he escaped the lab in an emergency landing craft.
  
  During 20 years of traveling the known space and finding answers he got himself a translator integrated inside a collar, He uses it to communicate with other people while out of the Carapace. And also a lot of various scanners and vision devices he equipped the Carapace with to help him with navigating and investigating. A few days back in a shipyard on a small border planet, a cargo vessel with very diverse crew caught his interest. After a conversation with the captain of the ship, he was allowed to join its crew. Now he's getting ready for a take off with hope in finding new knowledge and answers.
  
  What the crew knows: Only that he's traveling the space and looking for someone or something and is in possession of quite a diverse rack of sensors and scanners.
  
  Nation: None
  
  Planet: Presumably Earth
  
  Previous Profession: Test subject in secret bio-augmentation laboratory.
  
  Role on the ship: Assisting in various navigating and investigating actions.
  
  Job description: Technical assistance
  
  Skill set: Various types of scanners and vision devices, upgrading the Carapace in almost any way if given the time and resources
  
  
• 
  Addictions/Vices: Catnip, caffeine
  
  Abilities: Is a talking cat, can help with investigating and navigating, any other purpose the Carapace is configured to do

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

• Basics
• Descriptive
• Personal
• Origins
• Traits

• Name: Tarsel charr
  Aliases: walking tank
  Age: unknown
  Sex: "male"
  Race:neten
• 
  Physique
  Hair style/color: N/A
  Eye style/color: N/A
  Height: 8 foot in "civilian armor" and 10 foot in "engineering suite"
  Weight: 1 ton
  Extra features: never ever takes off his power armor, and due to the strange melodies grumbling that is neten speech, he require a vocabulator and translator, meaning much of what he says loses it meaning when turned to English.
• 
  Personality: tarsel is a cold hearted bastard he cares little for who or what you are like all netens every other race is considered a human to him, even if he does warm up to you the only thing you will get out of it is less criticism, and maybe the occasional complement
  Beliefs: while he follows no strict religion maintaining his autocannon is akin to some ritualistic sermony in a sense.
  Quirks:he tends to see insults or the like as criticism, since neten always deal in extremely harsh "insults" even his compliments my seem derogatory
• 
  History: tarsel been around a long time most of his life has been spent on one of the massive neten space vessels, felling as if his life was little more then constant maintenance on a vessel that he knew every nut bolt and armor plating, he left for other things while work we easily found most other races had a hard time dealing with the netens strange idea of social norms, so tarsel has been shifting form crew to crew over the years his current job is aboard the Chattaan
  Known history: tarsel has a reputation alright being one of the few netens to step foot of there titanic vessel it’s not hard to miss him and his history of being only temporarily abored other ships is well known
  Nation: neten empire
  Planet: unknown
  Previous Profession: vessels smith (smith is equivalent to a engineer)
  Role on the ship: engineering and general maintenance/cargo hauling
  Job description: maintaing and repearing the ship/small upgrade, and hauling cargo on and off the ship
  Skill set: heavy engineer suit operation, expert smith/engineer
• 
  Addictions/Vices: tarsel is addicted to slag, a chemical soup produced by neten machinery, basically its
  Iike drugs and alcohol mixed together but, industrial strength
  Abilities: surprisingly enough doesn't require air to breath nor sleep and also is rather good with the auto cannon he carries around at all times
  Shocking strong armor- neten made armor is the stronget stuff out there nothing ser passes its strength and resistance to damage aside form strong shielding of course

 

[Sludge]

[import]9010974[/import] [class=values] --tabStyle: row wrap; --contentStyle: column nowrap; --tab-txt-align: center; --tab-txt-color: white; --bg-color: #c1d6d4; --fontFamily: 'Helvetica'; --fontSize: 20px; --tab-hover-color: white; --tab-hover-bg: white; --tab-select-color: black; --tab-select-bg: white; [/class] [div class="tabContainer values"] [div class=tabHolder] [div class="tab selected"][div class=tabID]1Tab

info​

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who​

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role​

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backstory​

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Howard Kent
Age: 27
Role: Warp Drive Operator / Salesman / Lawyer

Howard is a very ordinary corporate workhorse who happens to have a knack for falling into the heart of interstellar political war-conflicts. He is also trying to suppress a small inferiority complex towards his much more impressive crew mates.

[/div][div class="tabContent 2"]

Spoiler: Appearance

Hairstyle: Short unkempt hair that has the vibrant color of a grey plastic keyboard.
Eye color: Dark brown.
Height: Average
Weight: Less than average

Extra features:

• Keeps his tie loose.

Howard is a fairly laid back guy when he does not have to face off against cosmic horrors.

He has an uncanny talent for finding a common ground with people he should have nothing in common with, and is surprisingly sharp when it comes to guessing the intentions of others. So long as their personality can be comprehended by a mortal human mind.

Nation:
Planet: Not of importance (atm)
Previous Profession: Something that has to do with accounting, management or something along those lines. Howard is yet to give a straight answer to this.

Traits
Addictions/Vices:

• Coffee
• Feels somewhat inferior to the rest of the crew. They have exciting lives full of action and freedom. Some have fought against space pirates and what not. At the same time, what is the best thing Howard can boast about? Spreadsheets?

Abilities:

• While it is not something Howard is aware of, his existence is a small spacetime anomaly. It has a troublesome side effect of arranging events in such a way that Howard will always find himself involved with largest conflicts around himself. His life is surrounded by unlikely coincidences that can both help and greatly impede his progress. It is almost like something is pushing his destiny towards a predetermined direction. The question is, where does it lead?

Beliefs:

• (on hold, until I get a better grasp of the character. Otherwise a fairly normal set of morals)

Quirks:

• Coffee
• Watches a Friday evening sitcom he absolutely can't miss.

[/div][div class="tabContent 3"]
Skill set:

• Space navigation
• Trivia
• Languages
• Interstellar law and economics

Role on the ship: Warp Drive Operator / Salesman / Lawyer

Job description:

Warp space navigation is a delicate skill that generally requires at least a few years of specialized education. With proper tinkering a good navigator can cut off days of travel between remote star systems. And otherwise, a ship risks getting caught into a warpstorm or worse... The otherworldly beasts that lurk in the depths of hyperspace are no joke.

Although Howard always had a mild fascination with space pilots, his parents did not. A more rational thing to do, was of course, to get a real job. So Howard applied for a course in marketing and management, only to spend the following years of his life as an accountant corporate slave. The pay was pretty good until the last wave of layoffs.

Having found a new job amongst the crew of Chattan, Howard got a chance to apply the years of knowledge he had casually learned through documentaries and books... And surprisingly he is not half bad at it. With his help Chattan can move between star systems in quite a speedy manner, even for a freight ship.

That said, as a small private business Chattan cannot avoid legal formalities. Being the only crew member with the appropriate education, the duty of forging deals, contracts and answering phone calls often falls onto Howard.

[/div][div class="tabContent 4"]
Nation: Earth Federation
Planet: He had to work in three different offices on different planets. None of which you consider worth remembering.

What the crew knows about your history:

Not much, but most assume it is nothing special.
Howard tends to talk in great lengths various incidents that happened at his job. They range between excruciatingly mundane to borderline unbelievable.


Backstory:

Check role description. Accidentally, it pretty much satisfies the need for this.
Until backstory needs more detail, it will stay hidden under the veil of mystery.





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[Mistory]

• Basics
• Descriptive
• Personal
• Origins
• Traits

• 
  
  
  
  Name:
  Balek (Bail-Ek)
  
  
  
  Aliases(nicknames, titles etc): Bale (Bail), Whatever the crew thinks is appropriate
  
  
  
  Age: Unknown. Personality can appear as a young adult.
  
  
  
  Sex: N/a, Male prounouns prefered
  
  
  
  Race: Alturon (All-too-ron), Autonimous Organic mechanisms, as they call themselves, Are a technologically advanced race of machine-like entities of unknown origin.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  Physique
  
  
  
  
  Hair style/color: N/a
  
  
  
  Eye style/color: Color is dependant on situations
  
  
  
  Height: 5'2
  
  
  
  Weight: 250 lbs
  
  
  
  Extra features: N/a
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  Personality: Balek is a light hearted, jovial individual, enjoying a laugh as much as anyone else and usually brushing off most insults with a wave of his digits. He Loves company, even if its simply someone in the same room, and often gets anxious if he goes to long alone. Balek attempts to be considerate when it comes to others, and while he isnt the best, will try to help when he sees emotional distress.
  
  
  
  Beliefs: People will be people. Not much more to say
  
  
  
  Quirks: During long periods of inactivity Balek will most likely be in the company of one of the crew, if anything, simply sitting there in silence. He's rarely alone
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  History: Bale woke at an unknown date, and had been neglected the usual integration protocals. He was discovered by salvagers in a dead ship, which had been lost years prior in an asteroid belt, with signs showing the crew had laid themselves to hypersleep in wait for rescue. Balek had awoken at some point, and had been residing in the wreck, scavenging what nutrients he could.
  
  
  
  When the crew boarded the found a rather grisly sight. The ship was practically torn apart, its innards shredded. The very reactor had been destroyed and dismantled, and when they finally found the crew...well, there wasnt much left.
  
  
  
  In his need for food, Balek had torn open the pods, and had used the sleeping crewmembers for his survival.
  
  
  
  The crew found a blood stained, beaten mass of metal hunched over the dismembered carcass of the captain, chewing into the flesh. It barely noticed them as they bathed it in light, too focused on its meal at the time to care. The crew quickly reported the news to the nearest station, asking for assistance, and soon a security crew had arrived to help.
  
  
  
  Unexpectedly, Balek wasnt some mindless beast. Having tapped into the ships records and systems at one point or another, he had managed to gather his own form of information, and communication was a simple step. It took surprisingly little to convince him to leave the ship. With aide of the Alturon specialist the security had accompany them, it was actually rather easy. Balek responded and, for the most part was completly cooperative. However, his long period of solitude had created some issues. Normally when an alturon his given the integration drive, they prefer silence and darkness to lessen distraction. However, after only afew minutes of silence, Balek had become very distraught. It seems He had developed a crippling phobia of solitude, unable to cope with being alone once more.
  
  
  
  So, after a long period of reading through the data, requiring someone to atleast poke their head in every few minutes to remind him where he was, an issue arose. Balek had slaughtered and ate twenty-three people. That was required in his record, and he was only permitted to be allowed to move into society once it was decided his lack of knowledge was at fault. However, such a fact didnt seem to help, as 23 murders were under his name. Employment would be near impossible with such a history.
  It took time, but after so long of simply wandering, Balek found a course, a goal, a path to walk. After afew dead end mining jobs and having heard about how many of his people were found buried, he began to wonder their origin. Why was the entirity of a species buried and spread throught the galaxy? What had put them there, and where did they come from?
  
  
  
  These questions made him want to explore. Maybe if he roamed around enough he would find something...
  
  
  
  What does the crew Know?: not much. He woke up one a ship, got integrated, was a miner, thats about it. The Captain might know of his time ON the ship, what he did to those people, but thats only if she cared enough to look.
  
  
  
  Nation: The Earth Federation
  
  
  
  Planet: N/a
  
  
  
  Previous Profession: Mining Specialist
  
  
  
  Role on the ship: Combat Engineer
  
  
  
  Job description: a tech focused combat specialist with the mechanical intuition and know how of an engineer
  
  
  
  Skill set: close combat, adaptability, mechanics, engineering, technological intuition, vacuum capable
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  Addictions/Vices: Alcohol! Balek loves to drink. How the booze effect him is still...confusing, more often then not he may have a slight buzz.
  
  
  
  Abilities: Like all Alturons, Balek can reconfigure his body to adapt to situations, be it creating a weapon from his limbs, altering his optic sensors for filter, or even simply extending his reach.
  
  
  
  

 

[DewOfTheMountains]

• Basics
• Descriptive
• Personal
• Origins
• Traits

• 
  Name: Dr. Thomas Edward Quinton
  Aliases: Phantom, Q, or Tom
  Age: 33
  Sex: Male
  Race: Human
  
• 
  
  Spoiler: Tom

  
  Hair style/color: Brown, thick and unkept
  Eye style/color: Turquoise
  Height: 6'1 ft/185 cm
  Weight: 153 lbs/69 km
  Extra features:
  A scar that runs down his right shoulder blade, one across his left flank, and a small one on his shoulder.
  Tom doesn't have a left pinkie finger, it's been cut clean off.
  He's normally not so formally dressed, he's usually in just a plain button up or a loose tie if the occasion calls for it.
  
• 
  Personality:
  Thomas is very nice and polite, some would say gentlemanly, and this is, surprisingly, not a facade. He's a happy go lucky, golden retriever of a man underneath a wall of professionalism. This isn't to say he's not professional, it's just he likes animals, sweet food, animated movies, and, in general, is like a big child. But he isn't as hyperactive or childish, he is an adult after all, he's like if a child appreciated fine alchohol and no longer gave a fuck about life. Although, he isn't this kind all the time. He can be quite cunning and ruthless, if he has to be, but much prefers to lay on a couch and play video games.
  Beliefs:
  Tom doesn't believe in heaven or God, in fact, he thinks God is a joke. But he chooses to belief in an afterlife, because no one can tell him that it doesn't exist. His afterlife is where he lives a regular life with a loving partner and children, where he's happy most of the time and the sad bits are minimal.
  Quirks:
  
• 
  History:
  Thomas Edward Quinton was born in a capital city of one of the states of the GTU, to Ria Quinton, a poor prostitute, and no known father, presumably named either Thomas or Edward. His mother, although caring enough to actually have him, was a lackluster parent. She was never physically or verbally abusive, however, she was rather neglectful of her child. She was very rarely at home and if she was, it was because she had a customer. Tom was very much left to his own devices from a young age. He learned to cook, sew, treat minimal wouds, study, clean, by the age of 15 he could practically live on his own.
  
  After graduating school with a GPA of 5.1, Thomas was accepted to one of the most prestigious colleges the GTU had. He spent the next 6 years, crawling his way through life to get his Ph.D in psychology. This was when he felt the most free. He got a job at an alien behavioural psychology clinic and finally left his mother behind. And for about 2 years, Thomas was the happiest he had ever been. He had his own apartment, a job he loved, and everyrhing was looking up. Then he was arrested.
  
  For reasons unknown, a man had framed him for the distribution of illegal drugs and the housing of illegal immigrants. He was charged and sentenced to 2 years in prison. Serving time wasn't the worst bit, the jail was cushy and not very dangerous. The worst bit was actually getting out of jail. He had a criminal record now, this meant no job, no apartment, no insurance, no further educational opportunities, nothing. He was a felon, even if he had commited no crime.
  
  Thomas, now thoroughly sick of life, joined a crime syndicate known as Black Lotus. There he gained experience in combat, surveillance, infiltration, and a number of different things. Everything was going alright, until he killed the leader's wife. In his defense, he hadn't realized she was who she was, at the time she was just in his way, and what better way to get rid of someone then to kill them. Unfortunately this didn't sit very well with the heads of Blsck Lotus. This incident resulted in one lost pinkie finger, a near death experience, and a local bounty on his head. Thomas then went completely off the grid, hiring some hackers to completely erase his existence from the face of universe. If the Black Lotus knew he was still alive, well, then he'd have a lot a trouble on his hands.
  
  Thomas became an assassin for hire, going by the name Phantom. It worked out for a bit then a woman named Raura invited him to be part of her crew. The prospect of a steady income and a place to stay got him to accept the deal rather quickly.
  
  What the crew knows about your history: Thomas was born in the GTU, he was a behavioral psychologist and has a Ph.D in psychology, he joined a gang, left the gang, then became an assassin named Phantom. This is all he's told the crew and cpatain Raura.
  Nation: GTU
  Planet: Earth
  Previous Profession: Assassin
  Role on the ship: Spy/Informant and frontline soldier
  Job description: Gathering information, infiltration of hostile territory, mainly he's just good at killing people and making sure the job gets done and done well at that
  Skill set:
  Stealth
  Improvised disguises
  Lying/acting
  Manipulation
  Reading people
  Hand to hand and weaponized combat
  
• 
  Addictions/Vices: Alcohol, cigarettes,
  Abilities:
  From his past in psychology and working as a behavioral psychologist, he can tell a lot of things about people just by looking at them. Things such as if their lying or feeling conflicted. This also makes him very good at manipulating people.
  

 

[Crazy Trey-n]

• Basics
• Descriptive
• Personal
• Origins
• Traits

• Name: Emmett
  Aliases: Zero
  Age: 76 (appears to be in his mid-twenties)
  Sex: Male
  Race: Rei'Coness/???
  
• Spoiler

  
  Physique: Fairly lean, though not nearly as skinny as a traditional Rei'Coness. His skin tone is pale nearly to the point of transparency.
  Hair style/color: Cropped, bright white.
  Eye style/color: An extremely pale shade of green.
  Height: 219 cm - 7'2"
  Weight: 122 kg - 270 lbs
  Extra Features: Missing his entire left eye. / Has various surgical scars marking his stomach, chest and back. / Has two sets of tattoos in the design of cuffs - one around his wrists and the other around his ankles.
  
• Personality: Not much is known about Emmett aside from the fact that he doesn't talk much and his curiosity knows no bounds. He seems to display a very keen sense of intelligence and some semblance of compassion, but the majority of the time this is masked by a silent, stoic, grim demeanor... aside from the occasional slap of sarcasm.
  Beliefs: Unknown.
  Quirks: Can be found gazing at the stars intently from time to time or pondering over a book or some accessory obtained in the field. Seems to disappear entirely from time to time.
  
• History: His first memory is of the laboratory around fifty years ago. To this day he has no recollection of a life before it, and he doubts that life may have even existed.
  
  Vast, dark and filled with the sorrowful wails of imprisoned people, the laboratory was anything but welcoming. He can only remember waking to the sight and sound of a metal door being slammed shut in front of him. No clothes were on his back to shield him from the sub-zero temperatures and he was quick to learn that no food or water would be given to him. Those were the first exhausting days of his life - being trapped in an enclosed box so small that he couldn't stand in it, naked, cold, and with no recollection of anything aside from one word: Zero. He chanted this word to himself, stared at the fresh tattoos around his wrists and ankles every hour that he remained awake. Sanity was the first to go and his body slowly withered away.
  
  It was a surprise when finally someone came to open the door. Three figures, all of varying shapes and sizes and wrapped head to toe in protective clothing, pulled him from the box and all seemed surprised that he was still alive. Still chanting "Zero," the figures brought him to a room that was devoid of any life; the air was stale and motionless and nothing decorated the splotchy grey walls. A single operating table was in the center and this place soon became his home. The same three figures brought him to the table, carved, cut and poked him with whatever utensils they had at hand, and slammed him back into his cell to wait out the night without ever saying a word for weeks. His mind was numb to everything they did and he no longer felt the pain, physically or mentally. He simply existed to hoarsely chanted "Zero." Zero was who he was.
  
  One day the experiments changed. By now he'd grown pale where he was once vibrant and his body had dwindled to the likeness of corpse. A new person showed up at his box, this one without all of the protective clothing and without the violent treatment. She introduced herself as [REDACTED] and gave him a name: Emmett. Meeting her was the first time that he'd seen a smile and encountered any sort of kindness. The experiments that she subjected him to weren't harsh. She'd have him read at first, and he'd be able to speak words and languages he hadn't known that he knew, or draw things he didn't know he could draw. Eventually the experiments changed again. Once he'd eaten enough to be relatively healthy again, she'd had him try physical feats of strength or endurance. It took a while, but the woman gradually grew more and more impressed with the results.
  
  Then again, one day, the experiments changed... along with the person who greeted him at the door. This time it was a relatively tall, lanky looking man who'd seem normal in society - if it weren't for the asymmetry of his features. He seemed to be split right down the middle, with the entire left side of his body being different from the right: the left sported long blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a fairly dark complexion, whereas the right had short, nearly jet black hair, an eye that was pitch black with no white or iris to be seen, and his skin tone was a sickly, stark white. The man said nothing and simply gestured for Emmett to follow, so follow he did.
  
  The place he was led to was far different this time. It was very small and quaint, with nothing but a large monitor on one end and a chair on the other. He sat when the man gestured and looked toward the monitor when it came blaring to life. It showed various images, mostly drawing that he'd made. He slowly realized that they were all people that he'd drawn. Some looked like drawings of himself, while others seemed to be an entire other species or race. All of them had the word 'change' written beneath them, each image lingering for a few moments before transitioning into the next. The frames eventually stopped on an picture of the woman who'd been conducting the experiments before. He never remembered drawing her before, but as soon as he glanced at the 'change' beneath the picture, a searing pain shot through him. He couldn't remember much of what happened after that other than seeing images of the woman laying face-up in a mysterious room, lifeless, the split-featured man standing coldly above her. He remembered everything: felt the terror she felt as the man clamped his hands around her neck and the tears running down her cheeks as her soul was crushed out of her. When he came to, he briefly caught a glimpse of himself in the now dark mirror of a monitor before him, except that it wasn't him. In the chair was the woman staring back at him, somehow mimicking his hand as it rose. Just as suddenly another sharp pain shot through Emmett and he went unconscious, seeing only red-
  
  -KILL KILL KILL-
  
  [Denied Access]
  
  -the planet of Corvian, where he'd "met" with a particularly accepting Captain willing to make use of his specific skill set. Emmett had put his past behind him and focused on honing himself for the future, a better one. Though the image of a two-faced man, a now faraway planet, and the notion of unfinished business always burned at the back of his mind...
  
  Known History: Emmett joined the crew as a stowaway initially, having sneaked aboard while the Chattaan was docked at the port of Corvian, a far distant planet on the fringes of the charted universes. Humiliatingly being found after a 'fit' of his condition's side effects, he promised that he bore no ill will and was merely trying to find a way to the next planet. However, he never made it there, opting to stick around as a reclusive and loyal member of the crew instead. No crew member knows of his condition or past before joining up with them, aside from the Captain herself.
  
  Nation: The Altarian Ascendancy (non-citizen)
  Planet: [Denied Access]
  Previous Profession: Enslaved Experiment
  Role on the Ship: Forward scout and undercover spy/information gatherer.
  Job Description: Espionage and reconnaissance of unknown environments, points of interest and surveillance of people who need surveying.
  Skill Set: Excellent perception, enhanced natural senses, extreme acrobatic abilities, and that good ol' strong-and-silent-type charm.
  
• Addictions/Vices: Has an unknown, non-contractable disease that subjects him to fits of almost fatal weakness and unconsciousness at seemingly random times. Seems to coincide with his strange abilities.
  
  Abilities: The results of Emmett's past of being experimented on has spliced his DNA with something unknown, leaving him with the odd ability to contort his body into different entirely different forms, or morph his skin to match the shades and hues of his environment. It seems to be limited to shifting into humanoid forms of most sizes and shapes, though the process is extremely painful while he changes. Has various possible detrimental or beneficial effects on his mind and body.

 

[KindlyPlagueDoctor]

• Basics
• Descriptive
• Personal
• Origins
• Traits

• 
  
  Name: Sonia Nalinka
  
  Aliases: Scorch (she hates being called this)
  
  Age: 27
  
  Sex: Female
  
  Race: Human
  
  
• 
  
  Physique
  
  
  
  Height: 5ft 8
  
  Weight: 85 kg
  
  Extra features: Burns covering around half of her body but mainly on her face and head.
  
  
• 
  
  Personality: Sonia generally keeps to herself and doesnt try to interact with the rest of the crew unless she needs to, normally staying in her workshop or in the deeper parts of the ships engine room. A down to earth and somewhat cynical person, Sonia has a shortage of friends and actively tries to avoid getting attached to people as it reminds her of her past and friends that she misses. Of course her job often means she's forced to interact and talk to her crew members, and conversations with her are rarely exciting and indeed carry an uncomfortable feeling.
  
  Beliefs: Ex machine worshipper, now an athiest.
  
  Quirks: Doesnt like talking about relationships and hates pet/nicknames.
  
  
• 
  
  History: Sonia was born into a small family in the countryside of Harlka. In her younger years she was apprenticed to a blacksmith and then to a gunsmith when she was 15. While working as a gunsmith she also took on a job at an oil refinery. It was here she earned her burns as she was caught in an oil spill, the embers from a nearby cigar igniting the oil on her body. While her burns did heal decently, she finds it hard to forget the intense pain and the smell of her own flesh burning.
  
  Upon turning 17 her gunsmithing mentor died and she took on a job at a machinists, which would be the place she spent the rest of her time while still on Vanura 7. Despite her burns she managed to make lots of very close friends from all walks of life, holding them all very close to her heart. She continued to happily work as a machinist until she met Elena, her girlfriend to be. The two where initially very close, however Elena soon became very manipulative and abusive, often using Sonia's burns as a reason no one else would love her. The abusive relationship continued until Sonia was around 24, which was when the thought of escape first entered her mind.
  
  Of course Elene had already made it very apparent that she would and could slander and ruin Sonia's reputation, as she knew that Sonia wouldnt be able to bear the thought of her friends hating her. And so, out of fear and desperation Sonia gathered up a few of her things and stowed away on the first cargo ship off world, living the rest of her life as a engineer for hire. She still misses her friends dearly and finds it hard to shake the memories of her past.
  
  What the crew knows about your history: Very little other than that she has a background with machines and guns.
  
  Nation: Confederacy of Harlka
  
  Planet: Vanura 7. A small, underpopulated planet that has become well known for its talented machinists and hearty shipwrights. A fairly old human colony, however they have cut themselves off from other planets in recent years. Vanura is ruled by four main nation states. The Confederacy of Harlka, The Fraltian Monarchy, The Norsha Junta and the United People of Naar. Luckily the three nations very rarely go to war, but this is due more to lack of resources than positive relations. Despite the low population and lack of certain resources, a life on Vanura 7 is a peaceful and simple one. the blacksmith forges, the farmed farms and the governor governs.
  
  Previous Profession: Machinests apprentice
  
  Role on the ship: Engineer / Weaponsmith
  
  Job description: Helps to keep the ship in working order as well as repairing any broken components. She can also help repair and improve the crews weapons.
  
  Skill set: Engineering, salvaging, decent hand to hand combat, above average gunsmithing.
  
  
• 
  
  Addictions/Vices: Antisocial, Smoking habit (shes trying to give it up), short tempered.
  
  Abilities: Can salvage gun and machine parts and use them to create things like ammo/parts or other weapons. Knows how to make "Dragons Breath" shotgun shells that she uses in her sawed off shotun, mainly against raiders and pirates.
  
  
  

 

[Paragon0fWar]

• Basics
• Descriptive
• Personal
• Origins
• Traits

• Name: Klour Caiareck
  Aliases (nicknames, titles etc): Dozens of Fake Names. Some include Caidran Greer, Brutus Matthias, Allirk Ar, etc. To the crew, he has told them all that his name is Qris Ser
  Age: 47
  Sex: Male
  Race: Fushkan
  
• Physique:
  
  Hair style/color: Brown Feathers, groomed to point upwards
  
  Eye style/color: Golden yellow.
  Height: 5'4
  
  Weight: 95 lbs
  
  Extra features (scars, cybernetics, extra bits, etc): Left arm is a shapeshifting cannon that molds between a sniper, metallic arm, and a heartbeat scanner. He typically elects to keep it in the form of a bird claw The right arm is also metallic in nature, with three blades jutting out of it; although, his right arm is only cybernetic from the elbow-down. His chest is largely mechanical in nature; although, the cybernetics are seemingly hidden. There is clearly a large number of scars upon his upper thighs and the areas around his cybernetic implants. His face and neck seem oddly spotless for how the rest of his body seems to be composed.
  
• Personality: Perpetually stoned, dazed, and confused. Klour never seems quite clear headed. He consistently rambles off into incoherent nonsense, and every other thought seems to devolve into weird pseudo-prophetic statements where he talks about this God, that God... Where was I again? Oh, There is nothing but a desire for peace, love, and happiness in each of his words. There is no anger, no frustration, nothing else. He is a pacifist of the highest degree! When deprived of drugs for any major length of time, he sobers up and devolves into a complete mess. (More will be revealed as the roleplay continues)
  
  Beliefs: He believes in the Great Spirit and the traditions of the Fushkan. Never breaks a pact. Never goes back on his word.
  
  Quirks: Speaks to invisible people all the time. He calls them, "The Spirits." Cannot focus for more than a few seconds at a time
  
• History: (This backstory is purposefully vague. If you want me to write the story to every tree branch, I will, but I find it to be more effective to reveal character traits and backstory details through roleplay rather than through an exposition dump)
  
  Born on the Fushka homeworld, Klour has been bred to be the perfect soldier since he can remember. He started military training at the [confidential files redacted], studying [confidential files redacted] to allow him to blend into technological and social situations respectively. Following his training of non-combat skills, Klour was transitioned into the life of a soldier at [confidential files redacted]. To enhance his combative capabilities, Klour was modified using technology. These cybernetic enhancements made him stronger, faster, and more capable in every single way possible. After five years of pure combative training and cybernetic enhancement, Klour was transitioned into an active duty soldier. Because he was trained from such a young age in the art of war, he was [confidential files redacted].
  
  Following his training, he was deployed from [confidential files redacted] to [confidential files redacted]. In his time as a soldier, he would [confidential files redacted]. After twenty years of faithful service, and, for unknown reasons, Klour began to show signs of disillusionment with the military. He began to partake in drug usage. Psychological tests determined Klour to be a threat to allied soldiers and himself on missions, so the Fushkan military resolved to eliminate the problem before it spread. Before they could kill Klour, he resorted to desertion. He has spent seven years on the run, doing [confidential files redacted], creating fake aliases, etc. During this time, it appears that he developed severe drug habits, a deep faith in the Great Spirit, and pacifist tendencies.
  
  What the Crew Knows: He is a novelist who wanted to get real experience in the field before writing his first novel. Additionally, he supposedly worked in the IT department of some company and has some knowledge of communications technology as well as the communication process itself.
  
  Nation: The Fushka Republic
  
  Planet: Fushka Homeworld (TBD with regards to Lore)
  
  Previous Profession: Writer/ IT Serviceman/ Assassin (unknown)
  
  Role on the ship: Novelist/ Communications Officer
  
  Job description: He operates the PA system (for internal communication), as well as the broadcasting system (for external communication). He maintains communication with any crew members going on off-site missions. Handles possible interactions with those not on the ship (i.e., negotiations and trades). Technology-wise, he deals with setting up the communications systems and maintaining them in the case of hostile hackers and unwanted intrusions. The Human Resources part of him just hates conflict, and he wants a fully functioning team. Yeah!
  
  Skill set: Computer programming skills, smooth talker, lying/acting, reading others, good with a sniper.
  
• Addictions/Vices: Smilex, Glass, Alcohol, Marijuana, LSD, etc. If it is a drug that proved a mood altering state, then Klour is extremely interested in enjoying that high. He has an especially large taste for becoming cross-faded, mixing three or four highs at the same time. It's always about attempting to cloud reality.
  
  Abilities: Cybernetic enhancements allow him to mold his right arm into a sniper or a heartbeat scanner. Alternatively, his cybernetic enhancements to his eyes allow him to improve accuracy to an extremely stellar degree. Even with a large amount of combat prowess, he refuses to fight except for the most dire of circumstances. Cybernetic enhancements work as armor for the chest plate to decrease damage absorbed. Increased strength due to cybernetic enhancements.
  

 

[Teh Frixz]

• Basics
• Descriptive
• Personal
• Origins
• Traits

• 
  
  Name: Chert Reese
  
  Age: 28 Solar years
  
  Sex: Female
  
  Race: Human (Augmented)
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  Hair style/color: Black
  
  Eye style/color: Blue overlay Natural Light Brown
  
  Height: 5’ 9” Original , 5’ - 9’ Augmented
  
  Weight: 145lbs Original, 76 -375lbs
  
  Extra:
  Chert is an augmented human with dozens, if not more, somewhat blatantly obvious augmentations in her body.
  
  1. (2) Aries Biosystems Leg augs
  2. (1) Left arm Tyr Construction aug
  3. (1) Right arm Red Jackal mobility aug (Stolen)
  4. (1) Full set ‘The Maw’ Dental implants
  5. (1) Half set Ferrous Future Cranial aug
  6. (1) Full set Voidden Thoracic augs
  7. (1) Half set Inthrup Grutt Organ augs (Stolen)
  8. (2) Optic Indus Cranioptic Overlay
  9. (X) Unknown
  
  
  
• 
  
  Personality:
  A born and bred nomad, Chert has been molded by a lifetime of living in space, inches from a painful death at the hands of the unfeeling void of space. Combined with living with hundreds of her people cramped into rusting hulls have created an individual with a very different mindset than those living on their fancy new ships or planetside.
  
  Chert is a quick and intense individual, quick to scrutinize and adapt to situations at hand. Upon entering a new room, there’s a tendency to log, scrutinize, every single bolt, seal, and data pad before dealing with an actual person. That’s not to say she’s not a social individual, quite the opposite. It’s just that her tight knit bonds are formed from exposure over time and very little else. Once linked to someone, Chert becomes extremely relaxed, casual, and comfortable. Almost a distressing amount so.
  
  Living near death and in such cramped conditions has also had a major impact on the way Chert lives life. In her youth, a simple hull breach could and would wipe out almost a hundred lives in an instant and after the seal was put in place, the bodies would have to be used and recycled. Chert has grown up wearing clothing that was moments previous being worn by a corpse and at any moment it could be her dead body being stripped down. As such, there is almost a fatalistic tendency in Chert, no fear of death and the risks of life mean nothing when a second later you could be sucked into space.
  
  Speaking of space, Personal space and personal property all almost non existent concepts to Chert. A fairly energetic individual by nature, when combined with this fact, makes for quite the klepto. Theft is a fact of life for Chert, if it’s something she wants and not bolted down, she takes it. If it wasn’t meant to be taken, it wouldn’t be out in the open.
  
  A full blown technophile, her fetish for machinery borders on religious fervor. In space everything died except machinery. The ships kept her and her clan alive, the flesh would die but the machines could live. It only makes sense then to copy that as much as possible. If it’s an augment, and she can fit it in her body, it’s going in. Out of date? Put it in. Stolen? Put it in. Experimental? Put it in. It all makes sense though considering that her array of implanted machinery have little rhyme or reason to them.
  
  Overall, Chert is a hardworking, asset driven, clan minded individual who wants the most for herself and those around her possible. Life is a temporary blessing and she’ll do her damndest to make it worth while.
  
  Beliefs: Scrapper Cult-
  
  A non-official religion, Scrapper Cults are a widely spread sect of Clans that essentially worship the physical. What keeps you alive in space? What gives you wealth? What gives you joy? That’s what is closest to godliness. Often confused with Space Neo-Paganism, there isn’t any pantheon of Gods in this religion, just aspects of divinity to attempt to ascend towards. The Afterlife is a form of this life but with your ascended form making you free from want.
  
  Quirks: Nearly hyperactive, Chert is very twitchy and when not in an ‘inactive’ state, it’s almost impossible to sit still. Tapping, jittering, and fiddling are all common activities for her.
  
  Kleptomania could also be classified as a quirk, Chert stealing compulsively and without hesitation. This has also made her a remorseless liar to those outside the Clan, even when her lie is obvious.
  
  
• 
  
  History: Born sometime around the Sol standard mid March, Chert is part of the subset of humanity widely known as Scrapper Nomads.
  
  At age twelve, like most nomad children, Chert was lured into a more stable environment for some time by the promise of wealth, technology and information. Naturally leaning towards Astromechanical endeavors, Chert gained a work apprenticeship as a small salary in order to cover room and board. While skilled in repair, engineering, and survivability in the void, the apprenticeship was a disaster as fitting in with the culture around her was nearly impossible. Tools, school supplies, even Hab units went missing and if someone wasn’t holding something, it was free to be taken and added to Cherts nest like horde. It was during this time that Chert began augmenting her body for work in the void of space. Undergoing limb removal and replacement at the joints, knees and shoulders, coincided with attaching essentially any sort of augmetic into her body.
  
  Despite extreme adaptation to Astro work and excellent scores in her practicals, Chert was expelled from schooling but was quickly picked as a cheap engineering option by a small shipping company. Earning enough and stealing to get by, Chert did not stay with any one crew for more than a mission
  
  Jumping from crew to crew enabled Chert to develop a sizable web of contacts and eventually grew her acumen enough to extort qualifying paperwork to apply for a much more lucrative position. While fully aware of her forged paperwork, the Trade Unions have accepted Cherts application and are subsequently paying her below minimum wage. Oddly enough, no complaints have been heard yet in regards to this.
  
  Nation: Nomad - A loose collection of Clans with patriarchal and merit based leadership, the Nomads drift silently through space in massive collections of spot welded, barely functional ships. Drifting down space lanes, these peoples are often looked down on as minor threats and parasites as they have a tendency to strip down and steal everything not bolted down.
  
  Planet: Nomad Clan Tentreese, Scrapship Albion VI
  
  Previous Profession: Astromechanical Engineer, A scuttling engineer, using her augments and natural understanding of spacecraft and mechanics, Chert has spent her life fixing, rigging, repairing, patching and praying that ships hold together. Some minor renown from actively repairing the frigate she was working on while spacewalking, while in combat.
  
  Role on the ship: General Engineering and Mechanical support services
  
  Job description: To keep all items, places, and beings of mechanical nature working at peak function. Maintaining life support systems and insuring the stability of the craft.
  
  Skill set: Mechanical engineering of any and all sorts, Scrapping and valuation of materials, Barter, theft, and taking advantage of gullible people.
  
  
• 
  
  Technophile - Call it what it is, but the strongest positive influence in her life have been machinery. Beings of similar mechanical nature and artificial presence may experience a greater than usual attraction from Chert
  
  Addictive Transhumanist - If it’s not broken, replace it. Chert is more than willing to remove perfectly functional organs, limbs, and brain matter to replace it with augments.
  
  Anything once - What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Chert has a difficult time saying no to anyone or anything. If it’s new and different, Chert is into it. Currently dealing with a minor Tuiber addiction.
  
  Inedible Substance - Thanks to her lower jaw and digestive system being redesigned through an augment intended for extreme survival situations. Chert has a craving for eating things not normally for eating. Rusted metal, oils, plasters. Depending on the substance there can be some nutritional value but it truly is mostly for the feeling and taste of what she’s eating.
  
  Abilities: Augments
  
  A wide range of adaptations based around surviving in the void, engineering, and whatever she could jam into her body.
  
  1. (2) Aries Biosystems Leg aug
  Implanted at the hip, these full leg reconstructions provide the wearer digitigrade mobility with unparalleled durability. Set atop a pair of hook like toes, the gripping power is enough to hook into type IV Starship hulls without magnetizing. Able to extend and retract, these augments also provide excellent reach for the height impaired.
  1. (1) Left arm Tyr Construction aug
  Found commonly amongst construction crews on industrial worlds, the Tyr construction aug is a safe alternative solution to carrying a plasma welding kit, safely hidden inside the arm, the user can spot weld and cut with their primary digits instead of a bulky tool kit.
  1. (1) Right arm Red Jackal mobility aug (Stolen)
  Also commonly known as the Flail, the Jackal Mobility aug allows the user to extend, detach, retract up to four meters their right arm.
  1. (1) Full set ‘The Maw’ Dental implants
  An extreme survival augment prototype, the Maw allows the user to crush, consume, and digest materials not normally able to be consumed by humanoid organics. At the expense however of the lower half of the jaw and the presence of fairly intimidating canine teeth known commonly as Tusks.
  1. (1) Half set Ferrous Future Cranial aug
  A braincase system covering half the brain, the FFC aug is an excellent adaptation system allowing for the use of extensive cybernetic uncommon adaptations.
  1. (1) Full set Voidden Thoracic augs
  A chest based suite of augs designed to assist the user in surviving in a multitude of hostile environments up to and including the vacuum of space.
  1. (1) Half set Inthrup Grutt Organ augs (Stolen)
  Secondary augments based around providing additional protections and abilities to internal organs. The standard suite of life support, monitoring, and independent operations as well as the uncommon ability to accept and convert electrical energies into life sustaining calories.
  1. (2) Optic Indus Cranioptic Overlay
  A simple ocular overlay based in the head that accentuates a users vision, providing all basic tool functions as well as blast shielding, welding protection, and immunity to aerosol weaponry
  1. (X) Unknown
  
  

 

[Aloha Loha]

• Basics
• Descriptive
• Personal
• Origins
• Traits

• 
  Name: Aliases(nicknames, titles etc): Iris Eden Maribelle Weschler III, Her Royal Majesty the Princess of Kenner IV, Lady, The Most Exquisite Belle of the Ball
  Age: 16
  Sex: Lady
  Race: Human
• 
  Physique:
  
  
  
  
  Hair style/color: High maintenance blond
  Eye style/color: Green
  Height: 5’3”
  Weight: It’s awfully impolite to ask this of a lady. (Lithe little girl)
  Extra features: She always has a regal scent of jasmine, magnolia and watermelon about her. Her hair almost always has a sparkling sheen to it. She speaks in a somewhat nasally voice with a distinctive accent.
• 
  Personality: Iris Eden Maribelle Weschler the III, is well quite simply she is a prima-donna. She feels that she is always the most important individual in a room and that everything should be handed to her, in exactly the way she wants it. While she was spoiled from birth, she however has a crippling desire to be recognized even further by her parents. Competitive, arrogant and obsessed with femininity she demands great attention and favor and is easily flustered and bamboozled when things go even slightly in ways she did not want or expect.
  
  Beliefs: Machines, and certain people, exist to serve and nothing more. The universe is infinite, therefore, the center of it is wherever one chooses and Iris selected herself.
  
  Quirks: Iris often skips instead of walking with a normal stride.
• 
  History: Her Royal Majesty, Iris Eden Maribelle Weschler the III was born to a joyous triumph on the planet Kenner IV, a loyal planet of the Confederacy known for its production of materials to toy-creation as well as producing toys of its known, and parades and so forth after her birth. Iris life was a gilded experience, which only money and great historical rule as the top noble family could provide. She had everything she could ever dream handed to her, from superior servants, to materialistic goods, as well as so forth. Iris knew she had this spoon in her mouth, and frankly she felt she deserved it. There is not a whole lot to say in terms of bad things that went in her life, and all the good things tended to blend together for her.
  
  But on her fifteenth birthday, things went terribly, terribly wrong. It was not a matter of inner revolt, or ecological disasters or anything like that. No, what happened was that her parents bought her a space cruiser that was silver instead of pink, and they damn well knew that she wanted it to be pink. This horrific suffering, this, this grand hell she was put through convinced her that her parents truly didn't care about her - if they did they would've gotten the correct color - and that Iris needed to make sure they learned from this mistake.
  
  So Iris began collecting only the essentials, some toys, cash, servants and proceeded to leave the planet in a huff to make sure her parents knew how much they screwed up and how much they should mean to her. Her parents felt that this was actually a good thing, not that they wanted her in the dangerous universe, but they felt that she could use a bit of fresh air outside of Kenner IV so they made sure to fill in the paperwork to classify her as a diplomat and freely allowed her to leave without hardly anything to stop her.
  
  And so Iris has begun to explore the galaxy searching for ways to make her parents apologize for real, and realize how much more important their daughter is, before she decides to go back home; (those phone calls to check up on her and apologize don't count).
  
  What the Crew Knows About History: Iris Eden Maribelle Weschler the Third is the Crown Princess of Kenner IV, who has done many courtly and regale affairs and public appearances. Currently has a great servant, gadgets and very nice credit card - and for some reason is not on Kenner IV where she ought be.
  
  Nation: Confederacy
  Planet: Kenner IV
  Previous Profession: Royalty, Princess of Kenner IV
  Role on the ship: Essentially a Mascot/Diplomatic Entity
  Job description: In exchange for allowing her passage aboard the Chattan Vessel, Iris uses her services to be as cute as can be to obtain good will in the eyes of others watching the Chattan and using a dash of diplomatics.
  
  Skill set:
  Adorableness
  Delegating Tasks
  Courtly Manners and Behaviors
  In-depth Historical Knowledge of Toys
  Use of Toyetic Gadgets and Basic Robot Handling
• 
  Addictions/Vices: Selfies, Candies and Cuddly/Frilly Things
  
  Abilities: Toyetic Gadgetry - Kenner IV is well known not only for the production of resources needed for toy manufacturing, but also for producing arsenals of strange toys which are used by the nobility. While Iris went on her self-imposed exile, she brought a few toys with her.
  
  X48 Wrist-Talkie: A simple pink and purple heart-shaped watch which not only tells the time, but has a built in holographic communicator! This allows her to make calls to others who have cellular devices across the universe, and is mostly used to phone off when her parents try to call.
  
  Psychospinners: This small hand-held gadget is great for spinning around in your hands! A triangular shaped device with a glowing center and blunted edges pleases the eye. But can also be controlled remotely by the users thoughts as long as they are within a relatively close distance! Witness the Psychospinners fly into action! [Warning: Psychospinners are not to be used in closed door environments, metal can leave nasty welts, bruises or possibly embed!]
  
  Gloopy Globby Paws: Sporting a pair of these pink, glittery, adhesives which bear the shape of a claw hand they are great for far flinging action and sticking onto any surfaces! Ceilings! No Problem! Walls! No Problem! Increase the fun by quickly shooting yourself up alongside the walls for spine chilling action! [Warning: Please exercise caution while using Gloopy Globby Paws while engaging in wall climbing activities!]
  
  Squaddles: These little animatronic warriors want to be your buddies! They are little neon colored furry creatures, about the size of a hand, which spout out a variety of catch-phrases, cuddle with you with their soft plushy exterior covering the uglier robotic innards, and play fight against your foes! Collect the whole set like Iris, Corporal Floobers, Blurk, Mittens, Zeepba, and who could forget that scamp Kregnaut! [Warning: Of course as these ones are from a limited edition set, together these band of cuddly small animatronics are capable of not-so-nice and actually dangerous combat (if on the correct setting)]
  
  Photon-Dotter: A bright orange, cylindrical tube the size of a pen with loads of fun! Just simply aim, point, and click and you can produce a small red dot which allows you to point at things as well as decode invisible ink! [Warning: Please avoid any and all contact against eyes, or fascimiles which work as visual receptors as it stings and can cause visual damage!]
  
  

 

[Ennuis]

• Basics
• Descriptive
• Personal
• Origins
• Traits

• 
  Name: Primrose
  Aliases: N/A
  Age: 15 (actual), 25 (simulated)
  Sex: Female
  Race: Human (Cyberbody)
• 
  
  Spoiler: Image

  
  Hair style/color: Synthetic/Brown
  Eye style/color: Cybernetic/Green
  Height: 5'7"
  Weight: Deceptively heavy
  Extra features: None visible, see traits.
• 
  Personality: Due to her unconventional upbringing, Primrose has dedicated her life to Princess Iris and every action she takes is strictly for her sake rather than her own. She shows no signs of personal ambitions and every action one would assume she takes for herself is simply to make sure she can continue serving Princess Iris at optimal efficiency.
  
  Beliefs: She believes that everyone in the world has a purpose. Some people are meant to lead and others are meant to follow. Iris is firmly in the first category and Primrose is in the second.
  
  Quirks: Primrose's movement comes off as slightly unnatural to anyone paying enough attention.
• 
  History:
  Born from the union of two loyal slaves owned by the Kenner IV royal family, Primrose's future was decided well in advance. At the age of five her brain was harvested and installed into a cybernetic body before being put through simulations designed to instill the importance of duty and loyalty above all else. When she was finally awoken a year later, ten years had passed in her mind and she was deemed ready to begin her task of ensuring that Iris had every need fulfilled. To the normal human, such a task would be impossible, or in some cases outright undesirable, but to Primrose it was the only way she could find purpose.
  
  When the princess reached the age of fifteen, tragedy struck. Iris was given the wrong gift by her own parents! Surely they had known exactly what she had wanted, but why, why would they abuse her in such a cruel manner? Sensing the pain in the young girl's heart, Primrose rushed to her side and assisted in her escape from the hateful palace.
  
  And so begun her new life as a galactic traveler, in search of ways to help the princess make her parents regret their horrible actions.
  
  What the crew knows about your history: Primrose is the humble servant/bodyguard of Princess Iris and rarely leaves her side. Other than that, she rarely speaks of herself and would rather turn any attention to the princess.
  
  Nation: The Confederacy
  
  Planet: Kenner IV
  
  Previous Profession: Iris Eden Maribelle Weschler III's personal servant
  
  Role on the ship: Iris Eden Maribelle Weschler III's personal servant
  Job description: To ensure that Iris Eden Maribelle Weschler III has every need and want met in a timely fashion.
  
  Skill set:
  Hairdressing
  Cooking
  Cleaning
  Laundry
  Sewing
  Gardening
  Incredible sense of balance
  First aid
  Swordsmanship
• 
  Addictions/Vices: Due to her indoctrination, Primrose absolutely must follow every last whim of the princess.
  
  Abilities:
  Cybernetic Body/Synthetic Skin - Primrose was gifted with a powerful cybernetic body to better perform her duties. It has various helpful features built into it, such as a communicator, extendable limbs, and enhanced senses. This powerful package is covered in a synthentic skin that while easily damaged, is just as easily repaired with a special gel that Primrose keeps on hand.
  
  Hospitality - A katana styled vibroblade. The microscopic oscillations of the blade allows it to cut through many materials that would normally be impossible to cut. While active, Hospitality emits a faint but pleasing hum.
  

 

[Zerohex]

• Basics
• Descriptive
• Personal
• Origins
• Traits and skills

• 
  
  Name: Tachi
  Real Name: Tatsuya Tachibana
  Age: 23
  Sex: Male
  Race: Human (overman)
  
  
• 
  
  Spoiler

  
  
  Hair style/color: Dyed red and slicked back into a pompadour of some volume
  Eye color: Light brown
  Height: 6ft3
  Weight: Some 200+ pounds
  Extra features:
  A clean-faced, fairly attractive young punk sporting no cybernetics in this day and age, you could be forgiven for not thinking much of Tachi at first sight and this definitely extends to his outfit of choice. Typically seen in an all-white jumpsuit adorned with a darker, silvery waistcoat and topped off by a military-style white long coat with black trims, accessorized with a black studded belt on the jumpsuit, tall black boots, matching full fingered gloves and round shades, he's the spitting image of the japanese bosozoku biker gangs of old with their distinctive tokkofuku "battle uniforms".
  
  Of course, on closer inspection one might notice that aside from his fairly considerable height among humans he sports an impressively shredded physique, packed top to bottom with wiry but very well developed, marked and defined muscle, and that he's definitely not "clean" despite his youthful face and lack of hardware. Skin tough and rough as boot leather, Tachi is covered in all manner of scars from the neck down and sports telltale callusing and signs of conditioning on his limbs that should dispel any notion that he's just some soft pretty boy.
  
  
• 
  
  Personality:
  Tachi is in many ways a creature of contradictions. A merry man marching to the beat of his own drum and enjoying the fast life, not a big friend of commitments and responsibilities but fairly easy to get along with as he is still giving, loyal, honest and straightforward, seeing deceit, treachery and excessive greed as marks of weakness. Yet he also has an adventurous, competitive and downright confrontational streak. Tremendously self assured and often brutally honest to a fault, the man rarely (if ever) backs away from a challenge and has a taste for adrenaline, jumping headlong into dangerous situations and greatly enjoying both displaying his outstanding physical gifts and earning accolades and material rewards through them.
  
  Beliefs:
  Real men take challenges head on, face to face, and there's nothing like earning your success by the sweat of your brow. Also, be cool and have fun.
  
  Quirks:
  Proud of being a pure, unadulterated human such as they are in the current year, Tachi is a big believer in the potential of humanity and has a general distaste for what he sees as the "easy way out", be it heavy cybernetic augmentation or depending on boosting substances. He's also not big on products of genetic manipulation and is obviously not fond of anyone trying to lord their position, status or origins over others, he's not really bigoted against any of the mentioned sorts but he very much judges people on the merit of what they achieve themselves, how they achieve it and sometimes what they hope to achieve.
  
  Given what he uses his money for, however, he is very open to "lucrative opportunities" and can often be swayed through appropiate pay. Of course there are lines he won't cross no matter what, and offending him or otherwise pissing him off is a good way to make all deals null and void and possibly wind up with physical currency invading an orifice. And as a final aside, despite his ladykiller looks and attitude he is quite happily "engaged" with a lass over on Earth, so while he may fool around a little (it's a way to get fans and he enjoys the attention) he tends to make his position clear and isn't much for lechery.
  
  
• 
  
  Nation: Megacity of Shinkyoto, formerly Japan, part of the Earth Federation
  Planet: Earth
  Previous profession: Registered Cybrid Combat Championship fighter (B-rank license)/good looking tough guy biker for hire
  Role on the ship: Tough guy handyman/crew coolguy/freeloader
  Job description: Need someone to lift heavy things? Punch someone's face in? Look good in a picture? Be a bullet sponge? He's got you covered, maybe
  
  History:
  One of countless orphans in the exceedingly inhospitable depths of the megacity that now occupies the Japanese landmass, his name given to him by the Tachibana Institution he grew up in, Tatsuya always dreamed of bigger and better things for himself and the people around him. He didn't necessarily hate his situation, mind. Sure, the grind was rough when not downright brutal, most life prospects short and dehumanizing, and the people trying to keep the system working and the children in as good a state as possible were few and strapped for resources. But life finds a way, and generations of natural selection in adaptation to harsh environments, applied eugenics, adapted culture and likely mutations made for a number of humans that could thrive in the worst scenarios.
  
  Tatsuya Tachibana is one such creature, someone far better equipped to handle the near-lawlessness of megacity slums than most of his peers. Without the means to acquire contraband weapons or cybernetic enhacements, unwilling to sacrifice his dignity and sense of self to a gang for protection but still immersed in the freewheeling culture of violence around him, the boy pushed himself to the limit physically from an early age. A good boy he could not be, he applied himself as best he could in his studies but it never clicked with him, he would not escape the slums that way. But he would not let himself be trampled or become nothing in the face of violence, and he would not tolerate this happening to those who had been good to him.
  
  So, through the usual pains and some more extreme ones, through trials and tribulations, the boy grew into a man. A fearsome man. He grew stronger, faster, tougher than the rest, he immersed himself in the old school, traditional tough guy culture of the land with its strange reputation for honor and comraderie, and through constant scraps shaped himself into a wild and dangerous brawler. A lone wolf pledging allegiance to no team, and all the more ferocious for it, his peers both feared and resented him at first but over time they began to respect and even admire him, and soon it became commonplace to refer to him as just Tachi. Tachi like the swords of old. The name sounded right to him, a mark of his identity and impact, and he took it up with pleasure.
  
  But Tachi still longed for more than just the streets he had grown up in. He had no interest in gathering a bunch of useless goons for followers and being a big fish in a small pond like so many did, he wanted to force the ever-looming elite of Shinkyoto to acknowledge him, he wanted his name to spread even beyond Earth's sky. So as soon as he completed highschool, as to not dissapoint his guardians, he signed up for the C3: Cybrid Combat Championship, the premier universal combat sports league open to any willing to risk life and limb for fame and fortune! And there came a rude awakening. Tachi refused to compromise who he was, no augs and no weapons, but his strength and skill were not enough to earn him a victory even in the lowest levels of competition.
  
  It was hard to tell whether losing his first three matches was more painful physically or emotionally but Tatsuya was absolutely not about to give up, and it was that determination that made some take notice despite his defeat. Amongst those who took notice and saw potential in the boy was the Jissenkai Dojo, an obscure group struggling to keep the traditional martial art of Seikendo alive, and they sought him out to recruit him. Aggressively. For his part, Tachi's pride made him unwilling to join any such organization, but two things quickly changed his mind. First, the dojo's representative wiped the floor with him in a challenge match and second, said representative was Sanae Sakuragi, daughter of master Kozo Sakuragi, and the boy was immediately smitten with her.
  
  For pride and love, and recognizing the value of what he was being taught much to his chagrin, Tachi became a live-in student at the dojo and spent five long years undergoing an increasingly trying training regimen. Far from being pure blood and guts, before learning much in the way of techniques the street fighter was taught to polish up his form and do away with bad habits, to value positioning, timing and anticipation, to understand the value of softness, the use of a relaxed flow in order to maximize the effectiveness of his body movements. Without wholly undoing his core talents and disposition, he was reshaped from a crude brawler into a polished martial artist, and soon only Sanae could keep up with him on any level.
  
  Bonding with the object of his affections despite initial frictions to his great joy, Tatsuya learned of the dojo's difficult state of affairs and their lack of C3-licensed fighters aside from Sanae herself, who placed her leading position in the school over fighting and thus only took the ocassional C-rank match. Now more driven than ever, all of a sudden he signed up for the local C3 Eliminator: mass battle meatgrinder events meant to provide car crash entertainment for the masses, weed out large amounts of low level competitors and quickly boost others up the ladder. With the deck so stacked against him, Tachi prevailed and proved his training's worth, and through a spirited showing took another step towards his destiny by leapfrogging into a B-rank license.
  
  The slum boy was now well on his way to fulfilling his dreams. The B-rank license freed him to seek out better matches far and wide and clash with any other ranker when agreed upon, the higher up the ladder the heftier the reward, while the Eliminator's own prize money let him make sizeable donations to the Tachibana Institution and Seikendo dojo both and still have enough left for his own reward: a spacefaring hyperlane turbocycle with a smaller surface transport bike module. So equipped, with bittersweet feelings of triumph, Tatsuya said goodbye to his life on Earth. He promised he would send money over and keep in touch, he swore to return rich and famous and carrying a Cybrid Combat Championship title belt as an engagement ring for Sanae.
  
  A year later and Tachi's now stuck on some space station, turbocycle damaged first then stolen wholesale later, with few ways to keep his income flowing and increasingly little to do with no plan on how to get back on track. Something's gonna have to change and soon...
  
  What the crew knows:
  Maybe you've seen him on video, if you care about watching low-level free for all bloodsport events from Asia or are otherwise keeping track of potential prospects in the Cybrid Combat Championship circuit, but it's a "true fans only" very short kind of reach that he's got from that. He's not really averse to sharing his story, however, aside from the fact that most of what he makes goes to his two surrogate families and going into details about his paramour.
  
  
• 
  
  Abilities:
  -Overman: Tachi's a physical monster, the type of transhuman most commonly found in spacefaring armies, raised in hellzone planets or made through eugenics programs as a way to maximize human potential without altering or losing what is seen as essential, natural "humanity". Quite the match for any combat cyborg on specs alone, Tatsuya is particularly gifted with outstanding speed as well as the matching reflexes, vision and proprioception needed to make it count. He's also got excellent stamina and toughness, capable of overcoming poisons, toxins and disease with shocking ease, and is impressively strong for his not-quite-heavyweight frame. His mind is also impressively honed on some level, giving him decisiveness, willpower and a resistance to mind-altering or invading effects.
  
  -Seikendo: A japanese martial art founded in the early 21st century by a legendary fighter known only as TAIGA, who sought to create a system focused on the effective, uninhibited application of a wide range of combat methods as seen in mixed martial arts but with the structure, values and mental and spiritual development of traditional schools. Featuring influences from Muay Thai, Judo, Boxing, Jujutsu, Karate and Catch Wrestling, Tachi's own style can be generally defined as a form of very mobile, defensively sound outfighter with a flair for the unorthodox. Typically working a methodical approach focused on controlling the distance of engagement and stalking opponents down, dismantling them with lightning fast, precise shots or quick entries into sudden, short bursts of grappling, Tatsuya regularly surprises opponents with a veritable library of unexpected, even downright flashy yet still effective techniques of all sorts.
  
  -Protective clothing: Tachi's tokkofuku is not just for show, as it was designed to be worn in the smallest, most dangerous hyperlane-faring vehicle class as well as surface level turbocycles, making them essentially a spacefaring battle uniform. Though not exactly on the level of protection as bulkier, rigid suits of armor, the clothes do keep his body functions well regulated and provide shielding from dangers even his body wouldn't fare well against.
  
  Skill set:
  -Fistfighting
  -Driving (safety not guaranteed)
  -Making a show of things
  -Taking pictures and recording video
  -Rudimentary greasemonkey
  -Not too bad at videogames
  -Some hairstyling
  -Menial labor
  -Self sufficient slob-level housekeeping
  
  Addictions/Vices:
  Tachi's main vice is adrenaline, he loves the rush he gets from dangerous or otherwise extreme situations to an unhealthy level like anyone who'd choose to take a career in combat sports, and he's also prone to getting easily bored and antsy if he goes too long without being so engaged. Workouts and other activities can help with this as a stopgap measure. His system also requires considerable caloric intake to function at peak levels, though he very much prefers actual food to energetic supplements and the like, and while not quite addicted to them or affected health-wise he sure takes to his cigarettes like a real chain smoker.
  
  

 

[ItsYaBoyUhhhh]

• Basics
• Descriptive
• Personal
• Origins
• Traits

• 
  
  Name: Antares McKenzie
  
  Aliases: "Flyboy"
  
  Age: 25
  
  Sex: Male
  
  Race: Human
  
  
• 
  
  Physique:
  Spoiler: Flight suit

  
  Spoiler: Regular Appearance

  
  
  
  Spoiler: Sidearm, holstered on his right hip

  
  
  Hair style/color: Dark brown, short messy spikes
  
  Eye style/color: Light blue eyes
  
  Height: 6'1"
  
  Weight: 185 lbs
  
  Extra features: Medium length scar, running from the bridge of his nose under his left eye. Another scar going horizontally across his right palm.
  
  
• 
  
  Personality: Antares is almost the complete opposite of your typical hot-headed fighter pilot. He rarely speaks about past assignments, and when he does you can only get the bare minimum out of him. He absolutely hates talking about himself, often deflecting the conversation in another direction. He likes to stay out of trouble as much as possible, resorting to violence as a last resort (unless his mission calls for it). However, just because he avoids violence does not mean he is afraid of it. Thriving under pressure, whether it be on offense or defense, Antares is never happier than the moment just after he delivers the fatal blow to his opponent.
  
  Beliefs: There is no greater feeling than taking the life of the enemy.
  
  Quirks: Despite some of his anti-social tendencies, Antares enjoys cracking jokes and relaxing around other people.
  
  
• 
  
  History:
  As a young boy on Terratus XII, Antares always dreamed of travelling through the cosmos. It was his goal to see more galaxies than his father, a pilot for the military. His father told him nightly stories about the long journeys he made as a young man, fighting for the good of humanity. His mother hated it, she was terrified of losing her son like she had almost lost her husband multiple times throughout their marriage. He could overhear them arguing some nights. She would sob and beg his father to not allow Antares to join the military when he was older. The proud soldier would scoff and yell back "He's going to do it! He's destined for it!". After his mother would storm off to bed, his father would quietly sneak into his bedroom. He could tell Antares was fake sleeping, but he would simply kiss his son's forehead and whisper "You're destined for it" before leaving the room. Antares would quietly repeat the phrase, small tears running down his cheeks.
  
  Antares promised himself that he would follow in his father's footsteps no matter the cost. As soon as he was big enough he and his father would constantly fly together. He absorbed the information like a sponge, no detail his father explained was too small. He had to know everything if he was going to be anywhere near the level his father was. The proudest moment he remembers is his first flight in the captain's seat, his father next to him absolutely beaming with joy. They two of them spent countless hours together, preparing Antares to fulfil his destiny and become a military pilot. These were the best years of his life, he had absolutely fallen in love with flying from the first moment he held the controls.
  
  Two months from Antares' eighteenth birthday he, his father, and mother, were on a train heading deep into the capital city of the Terratus XII. Antares nervously tapped his foot on the metal floor, staring out of the window at the vast city around them flying by at a blur. He was anxious because they were on the way to obtain his military voucher, documentation that he planned to enlist within one week after his eighteenth birthday. The train began to slow down, the screeching of metal on metal overpowered any other noise on the train as it went from a speeding bullet to a slow creep into the station. His father turned and smile down at him. "Two more stops and we'll be there. I just want you to know how proud I am of you." Antares smiled, his anxiety starting to ease a bit. His mother stared quietly out of the window. She loathed the fact they were on this train. The last thing she said before leaving their house was "We're taking our son to his death".
  
  People began moving in and out of the train cars. Loud voices and stomping footsteps flooded the train with noise. As the hustle and bustle died down, Antares' father noticed something peculiar. Three men in black hooded robes had entered the train car, each positioned very strategically. One at the front, one at the back, and one located in the middle. Each kept their head bowed until the last passenger had entered their section of the train. His heart began pounding, beads of sweat rolling from his forehead down his face. Antares noticed the sudden change in his father's demeanor. "Dad, what's-". Before he could finish his sentence, the three men raised their heads and threw their hoods back in unison. They all let out a terrifying shriek that pierced the ears of everyone in the train car, sending several people on the ground holding their ears in pain. Antares was one of them. He had closed his eyes briefly because of the surprise and as the shrieking stopped almost as quickly as it started he opened them. He saw his father had jumped up from his seat and straight towards the robed figure in the middle nearest them. The next thing he heard was the release of plasma energy. Moments after that, he watched a burst of bluish-purple light explode from his father's back. Antares screamed at the top of his lungs while he watched the flesh and blood from his father spray across the windows of the train car. In unison, the three robed mean shouted "You will become a message to those who defy our will! The Altarian Ascendancy will free you of your shackles!" Tears streamed down Antares' face, his eyes glued to the lifeless body of his father on the cold metal floor.
  
  A wave of rage came over him, he pushed himself off the floor and started towards the monster who murdered his father. He barely made it a step before he felt two small hands wrap around his shoulders to stop him. He turned to look his mother in the eyes, which were filled with tears same as his. Without hesitation she used all of the force she could to push Antares', sending him out through the open train car doors. By this point people in the train car had also begun heading for the exits of the train, their screams of terror bellowing from the train. For most of them, including Antares' mother, it was too late. The doors had shut automatically just as Antares' was thrusted from train car. He stared up from the ground at his mother who was now trapped. She placed her hand on the glass, and he could make out the words "I love you." A sudden flash of blue energy erupted from the three men inside the train, completely obliterating any organic life trapped inside with them. The shockwave sent Antares along with anyone else around flying backwards. Shards of glass and pieces of metal travelled through the air in the blink of an eye, striking many people at the station. Antares struck his head against the wall, rendering him unconscious. The next memory he has is him waking up in a hospital bed hours later, alongside people from the same station who had also suffered injuries from the blast.
  
  Antares was in line to enlist the very moment he turned eighteen. He worked through the ranks diligently, always receiving high praise from his commanding officers. He's lost track of exactly how many completed assignments are on his record. Not that he didn't take pride in serving, but more for the fact that a year and a half after receiving the rank of Lieutenant and his own squadron of Interceptor pilots he was dishonorably discharged. One of his colleagues who felt wronged for Antares being promoted over him sent in an anonymous complaint that Antares had smuggled an illegal substance known as Tripoli X (10) onto base. An immediate search was conducted of his living quarters where is stash was found. He was stripped of his rank and promptly removed from base. Afterwards he moved from job to job before landing his most permanent gig so far as a part of the Chattaan's crew.
  
  History known by the crew: The crew knows he was an Interceptor pilot in the GTU, but unless they had high military clearance the bulk of his assignments are classified. Although the Altarian terrorist attack is a well documented event, he has not shared his experience that day or the fact that his parents are deceased. His addiction to Deathsticks is common knowledge, but his use of Tripoli X has been kept under wraps.
  
  Nation: The Greater Terran Union
  
  Planet: Terratus XII
  
  Previous Profession: Antares has worked several jobs as protection for companies that would pay him after his discharge from the military.
  
  Role on the ship: Auxiliary pilot
  
  Job description: Operating the heavy lift craft of the Chattaan, performing reconnaissance and drop ship duties.
  
  
• 
  
  Addictions/Vices: DS-450, aka "Deathsticks". Tripoli X.
  
  Abilities: Before being discharged from the military, Antares was considered one of the elite pilots of the GTU. Throughout his years of flying he as mastered offensive and defensive maneuvers applicable to a wide variety of scenarios that he might encounter. Many of which were taught by his father rather than his instructors in Flight Academy.
  
  Skill set: Mainly flying and navigation. Also trained in small arms combat, and proficient in hand-to-hand combat.