ROLEPLAYING - Introduce your Commander
- Thread starter Commander Edison
- Start date
My name is Proteus Toad. My real name isn't important any more, well not to me at least. There are plenty of people that would like to find the real me, I'm sure it's still important to them. The Galaxy is a big place though so good luck to them finding me.
30 years ago I was still a young man. I had just scraped up enough credits for an old beaten up Cobra Mk III. When I say beaten up I mean it. She had no upgrades that worked. Her weapons were shot to pieces... literally! and only good for a trash asteroid. I spent the next few weeks fixing what I could and selling the broken bits for scrap. I ended up with around 100 credits and a tank of fuel, oh and a single pulse laser. She had the old style flight controls. Manual keyboard and joystick, none of this fancy holographic stuff or voice control. After a while I liked it like that.
I spent a few weeks running milk runs around Lave before I ventured out a bit further afield. What an education that was, attacked by pirates and had to dump my cargo to escape. I sold the missiles I'd just spent a fortune on and used the money to get my ship repaired and then started again. This time I was more careful. I plied the safe trade routes for a couple of months upgrading my ship as I went along. The next time I was attacked by pirates, a couple of kraits, they got what was coming to them and I got a fat bounty. I seemed to have a knack for combat so I switched from being a trader to a bounty hunter. Within a few months I'd reached competent level and had a ship that could hold it's own against anything out there.
It was around this time that I started getting offered no questions asked courier missions and missions to transport government officials from one system to another. It was after one such mission that I started getting attention from some very important people. I had some president of a huge corporation on board when we were jumped by assassins. Two sidewinders and a python. Not good odds but by this time my ship had every legally available upgrade and a few not so legal ones to boot. I came through the ordeal with ship and passenger intact and barely a fleck of paint work missing. That sealed it, I was branded one of the best bodyguard pilots in the region. Work offers flowed in netting me a huge amount of cash. Military contacts I'd transported in clandestine operations paid me in upgraded parts. Military beam lasers, mil spec shields, upgraded energy units etc. For 30 years I continued the life of plenty, taking just a few choice jobs a month. Each one netting me hundreds of thousands of credits.
It was then that my luck changed. I mean, I'd had a bounty on my head for a long time, you don't do my kind of work without ing off a lot of people, so if you make mistakes it could be fatal but this was different. I was carrying the Emperors nephew when we were jumped by two pythons. No problem I though but then the unthinkable happened, my shield generators broke down. I managed to hyperspace out after taking a bit of a beating but the ship was in a pretty bad way. Inter ship comms were down so I had no idea if the Emperors nephew was alive. When we reached our destination the boys aids rushed onto the ship and we forced open the passenger cabin airlock. The boy was dead. Killed by the violent decompression of the cabin when we took one of multiple hits. I was immediately taken into custody. I pleaded innocence explaining that my shield generators had failed. It made no difference that I'd done work for the Emperors close family for over twenty years I was branded a traitor and sentenced to death. Hell, I'm not even a citizen of the Empire so how can I be a traitor.
Fast forward to a few days ago and the morning of my execution. My cell forcefield drops and a guard grunts “Visitor” before re establishing the field. I look up form the pallet I've been laying on and there is some guy I've never seen in my life.
“Who are you. What do you want!” I ask, in no mood for visitors.
“My name is Smith.” he says. “I want to save your life.”
I laugh. “It's a bit late for that don't you think.”
“On the contrary. This is exactly the right time.”
There's a shimmer and suddenly I'm looking at a direct copy of myself.
“Put this on.” he says and passes me a belt.
“What is it?” I ask as I buckle it up.
“Localised holographic field, new tech.” he says as he sees my quizzical look.
He presses a button on my belt. There's a slight tingling sensation. I look at the mirror in the cell and I see the guy who was just in front of me, except it's me.
“Go!” he says, just like that. “Head for docking bay 12. There's a sidewinder waiting for you.”
And now I'm here. Sitting in a new sidewinder trying to figure out the new holographic controls. I wonder if I can retrofit the old style interface...
30 years ago I was still a young man. I had just scraped up enough credits for an old beaten up Cobra Mk III. When I say beaten up I mean it. She had no upgrades that worked. Her weapons were shot to pieces... literally! and only good for a trash asteroid. I spent the next few weeks fixing what I could and selling the broken bits for scrap. I ended up with around 100 credits and a tank of fuel, oh and a single pulse laser. She had the old style flight controls. Manual keyboard and joystick, none of this fancy holographic stuff or voice control. After a while I liked it like that.
I spent a few weeks running milk runs around Lave before I ventured out a bit further afield. What an education that was, attacked by pirates and had to dump my cargo to escape. I sold the missiles I'd just spent a fortune on and used the money to get my ship repaired and then started again. This time I was more careful. I plied the safe trade routes for a couple of months upgrading my ship as I went along. The next time I was attacked by pirates, a couple of kraits, they got what was coming to them and I got a fat bounty. I seemed to have a knack for combat so I switched from being a trader to a bounty hunter. Within a few months I'd reached competent level and had a ship that could hold it's own against anything out there.
It was around this time that I started getting offered no questions asked courier missions and missions to transport government officials from one system to another. It was after one such mission that I started getting attention from some very important people. I had some president of a huge corporation on board when we were jumped by assassins. Two sidewinders and a python. Not good odds but by this time my ship had every legally available upgrade and a few not so legal ones to boot. I came through the ordeal with ship and passenger intact and barely a fleck of paint work missing. That sealed it, I was branded one of the best bodyguard pilots in the region. Work offers flowed in netting me a huge amount of cash. Military contacts I'd transported in clandestine operations paid me in upgraded parts. Military beam lasers, mil spec shields, upgraded energy units etc. For 30 years I continued the life of plenty, taking just a few choice jobs a month. Each one netting me hundreds of thousands of credits.
It was then that my luck changed. I mean, I'd had a bounty on my head for a long time, you don't do my kind of work without ing off a lot of people, so if you make mistakes it could be fatal but this was different. I was carrying the Emperors nephew when we were jumped by two pythons. No problem I though but then the unthinkable happened, my shield generators broke down. I managed to hyperspace out after taking a bit of a beating but the ship was in a pretty bad way. Inter ship comms were down so I had no idea if the Emperors nephew was alive. When we reached our destination the boys aids rushed onto the ship and we forced open the passenger cabin airlock. The boy was dead. Killed by the violent decompression of the cabin when we took one of multiple hits. I was immediately taken into custody. I pleaded innocence explaining that my shield generators had failed. It made no difference that I'd done work for the Emperors close family for over twenty years I was branded a traitor and sentenced to death. Hell, I'm not even a citizen of the Empire so how can I be a traitor.
Fast forward to a few days ago and the morning of my execution. My cell forcefield drops and a guard grunts “Visitor” before re establishing the field. I look up form the pallet I've been laying on and there is some guy I've never seen in my life.
“Who are you. What do you want!” I ask, in no mood for visitors.
“My name is Smith.” he says. “I want to save your life.”
I laugh. “It's a bit late for that don't you think.”
“On the contrary. This is exactly the right time.”
There's a shimmer and suddenly I'm looking at a direct copy of myself.
“Put this on.” he says and passes me a belt.
“What is it?” I ask as I buckle it up.
“Localised holographic field, new tech.” he says as he sees my quizzical look.
He presses a button on my belt. There's a slight tingling sensation. I look at the mirror in the cell and I see the guy who was just in front of me, except it's me.
“Go!” he says, just like that. “Head for docking bay 12. There's a sidewinder waiting for you.”
And now I'm here. Sitting in a new sidewinder trying to figure out the new holographic controls. I wonder if I can retrofit the old style interface...
My name is Mysturji Mihendricks.
My family has a long and glorious history, as well as a formidable and highly-respected reputation among the Elite, especially on the Founder's World.
I am not the only Mysturji Mihendricks: The name has a long established history in the tradition of my family. You may someday meet another one. My advice is, either be nice to him, or run away.
I am Mysurji Mihentricks the Eleventy-... somethingth. I don't know, do I? I'm the black sheep of the family. While the rest of them were all out making a name for themselves, trading, bounty hunting, exploring, getting fame and riches, I hitchhiked around the galaxy being a hippy for the better part of my life, chasing girls, booze, narcotics and other entertainment.
But even that got boring after a few decades, so I went home, to Shin... The Founder's world, whose name and location are secret, so don't ask. Imagine my surprise when I discovered a message from my uncle Mysturti (Timi to his friends, of which there were few) saying:
So here I am in a Cobra Mk III, with 4,000 Credits, but without a clue.
I think I'll call it "The Popemobile".
My family has a long and glorious history, as well as a formidable and highly-respected reputation among the Elite, especially on the Founder's World.
I am not the only Mysturji Mihendricks: The name has a long established history in the tradition of my family. You may someday meet another one. My advice is, either be nice to him, or run away.
I am Mysurji Mihentricks the Eleventy-... somethingth. I don't know, do I? I'm the black sheep of the family. While the rest of them were all out making a name for themselves, trading, bounty hunting, exploring, getting fame and riches, I hitchhiked around the galaxy being a hippy for the better part of my life, chasing girls, booze, narcotics and other entertainment.
But even that got boring after a few decades, so I went home, to Shin... The Founder's world, whose name and location are secret, so don't ask. Imagine my surprise when I discovered a message from my uncle Mysturti (Timi to his friends, of which there were few) saying:
So here I am in a Cobra Mk III, with 4,000 Credits, but without a clue.
I think I'll call it "The Popemobile".
That was then...
Then I reached Earth!!!
It took me some weeks to work my way back to Earth. The Sidewinder, I soon found out, had too limited a jump range to make it across the voids of space and back to core federation territory. I had a number of options. Upgrade to a new ship? That would take so much more time to grind up to. I thought about stripping my ship down to just engines and fuel tank. My encounter whilst mapping uncharted systems, that lost me my charts and very nearly my life, changed my mind about that. I can't believe cartographic accepted stolen data. My Data!
I perused my options one evening in a station bar. My heart was breaking. I had to get back to Sol and my wife-to-be. Then I overheard some bickering in from the corner. It was to be the break I needed. A high stakes Quetzel Cards game. When I was young my brother taught me how to cheat at Quetzel. Counting cards was illegal in all but the seediest of places. I looked around me. This 'unsanctioned outpost' barely had any security, never mind trigger happy police. I walked over and threw my 'Winder into the pot.
When I walked away with a new Eagle, it's resentful pre-owner decided to end my life. Before I knew it I was on my back on the floor with a pistol in my face. I then realised why there were no security. Before he could make his demand another pistol was put to his head. "I see you've ignored my warning and now you're for the long walk home." Everyone in the bar had stood up. He was removed post-haste and carried out the door crying and wailing. At the time I didn't understand why he had pee'd himself on the way out. One of 'The Brethren' helped me up and set me on my way, and warning me not to come round this way again. It was only after launching in my new Eagle did I understand the meaning of "A long walk..."
The Eagle was a blessing. The increased jump range, the speed at which I could evade unwanted company, I was soon making my way past Altair, passed Barnard's Star. Sol glistened in the dark against the backdrop of the Orion nebula. I was home.
Earth...
I docked back at Galileo station. My best man worked there. I needed to settle that score before going to see my beloved...
When I walked in to the bar, the barman looked up at me and froze. He tapped the bar to get the attention of the man sitting with his back to me. He looked up saw me in the mirror. He sighed, and got up slowly. Walking over to me he showed me no warmness at all. After spending several weeks among space trash and trigger happy commanders, I sensed instantly that not everything was as I had once assumed. Was I really that green once?
He stopped an arm's length from me.
"What are you doing here?" He spoke in a low voice.
"I've come back to marry my wife."
He shook his head and pursed his lips. "I saved your life once. If he finds you here, I won't be able to do it again. You should have stayed with Titus."
"He tossed me off the first chance he had."
"Obviously while docked."
"Obviously..."
He took a deep breath. "Where are you docked?"
"17"
"Then you still have time." He looked at me carefully. "You still don't know, and I'm not going to tell you. She will never be your wife. You're a marked man. Leave now and head for the frontier. Don't head for the empire. Trust me."
"I trusted you once..."
"And you're richer for it and alive."
He had a point. "Who...?"
"Unless you want me dead too..." There was a look in his eyes that convinced me he was telling the truth.
There were too many questions going through my head, but one forced its way to the top. "How much time have I got?"
He shook his head. "It may already be too late..."
I turned. Looking over my shoulder I nodded to him. "See you out there."
He nodded.
I left without answers. I could call her from the bar. It would only be a short delay at this distance. Something inside me warred against it. There was a gut feeling. My life, the future I could have had, the dreams that we made up about our future together. I had kept them alive inside me. As I headed back to my eagle, those dreams that were once like molten metal in my stomach, turned to cold steel.
I powered on, buckled up and departed. It was almost a peripheral vision thing. The darkness hiding in the shadow of the starport. Even before the alarm sounded, I dropped chaff and hit the booster. Running the gauntlet was the thing I had become good at, and I ran it today. The FSD warmed up as I twisted and turned, the Asp drawing closer. I had a slight edge, having found an unusual upgrade in one of the stations of Chukchu. The shields failed, but the FSD was charged. I swung round one last time and boosted straight past the Asp's cockpit.
For one tiny moment, me and the Asp pilot clapped eyes on each other, being as far apart as across the Quetzel table. I would never forget that face.
I swung on target and countdown began. It was no time to relax yet... and perhaps, from what my 'friend' had told him, it would never be time to relax.
So many questions...
Last edited:
Introducing..
..me,
I'm Commander Bavou Bao Faost. Also called the Roach, don't ask why... or ask and I could explain, but that's for another log. Not today.
I'm in my mid Thirties, but folks think I'm in my mid twenties. Good genes I guess.
Folks also think I'm a pretty talented, somewhat irascible Pilot. Guess I got that from my Father.
I won't tell you about my agenda in here. That's also for another place to log.
No I don't have a deathwish. Yet I live on the edge. Day by day. Good thing, that I have my towel with me...
..me,
I'm Commander Bavou Bao Faost. Also called the Roach, don't ask why... or ask and I could explain, but that's for another log. Not today.
I'm in my mid Thirties, but folks think I'm in my mid twenties. Good genes I guess.
Folks also think I'm a pretty talented, somewhat irascible Pilot. Guess I got that from my Father.
I won't tell you about my agenda in here. That's also for another place to log.
No I don't have a deathwish. Yet I live on the edge. Day by day. Good thing, that I have my towel with me...
Seamus McGregor
Seamus was the only son of Angus and Cyllia McGregor, he was a product of Little Scotland of the Mars colonies. As such he was Stuborn hot tempered, too proud for his own good and he liked whisky way too much, so he was always in a fix. It kept his life exciting, at least thats what he tried to remind himself. He tried to stay on the right side of the law but that was difficult. He was a trader by choice, but he couldn't back down from a fight. His current situation started a while back when he had gone to the pub to have a blether and a pint with the boys. That is when he found his clients. The wee lass and her dad seemed on the up, but he was more than a bit scuttered. They needed some goods transported to the Brekstra system. All he needed to do was get them to Abraham Lincoln Station pick up the cargo and they would pay him what was a large sum of credits. He should have known it was a bad idea but he was accused of being a dobber. Things had gone bad from the start, and now he was stuck in Cosi with a used Sidewinder and 1000 credits to his name. He had been here before, and as he reminded himself at lest it was exciting.
Seamus was the only son of Angus and Cyllia McGregor, he was a product of Little Scotland of the Mars colonies. As such he was Stuborn hot tempered, too proud for his own good and he liked whisky way too much, so he was always in a fix. It kept his life exciting, at least thats what he tried to remind himself. He tried to stay on the right side of the law but that was difficult. He was a trader by choice, but he couldn't back down from a fight. His current situation started a while back when he had gone to the pub to have a blether and a pint with the boys. That is when he found his clients. The wee lass and her dad seemed on the up, but he was more than a bit scuttered. They needed some goods transported to the Brekstra system. All he needed to do was get them to Abraham Lincoln Station pick up the cargo and they would pay him what was a large sum of credits. He should have known it was a bad idea but he was accused of being a dobber. Things had gone bad from the start, and now he was stuck in Cosi with a used Sidewinder and 1000 credits to his name. He had been here before, and as he reminded himself at lest it was exciting.
Gitzan Shiggles, son of Imperial Randy Shiggles and unknown Federal cleaning lady. The father, in his shame for exchanging fluids with a federal mistress, renounced his son by naming him Gitzan, "for sh... and giggles". The father is orbiting Saturn in his underwear and rumors has it that the son is reponsible for switching the buttons 'BREW COFFE' and 'OPEN AIRLOCK'. No evidence have been produced in the murder case but the name Shiggles does not carry any weight anymore in Imperial space. Gitzan was last seen in a Sidewinder with borrowed lasers. He is considered Harmless and have not shown any signs of foul play. Investigation pending on low priority.
Hello, people call me Trenton Snow. I grew up on the colder parts of Earth, hence my last name. I lived in a poor family that was surviving on scraps. My father was a freight transporter and transported things tens of hundreds of light years away, my mother grew sick and passed away, afterwards my father left me and he never came back, I lived with my little brother and took care of him when I was 14, now that i am 25, I decided to leave my little town and go in search for my father, to see if he is still alive and well, and to also make a little fortune on the way.
(OOC: Not the best with stories, but, I really really REALLY want to get involved with roleplay on this game.
)
(OOC: Not the best with stories, but, I really really REALLY want to get involved with roleplay on this game.
)
Greetings,
I am Haridas Gopal hailing from barren planet on the edges of known systems. I am mainly occupied searching for valuable items in space. Some called them junk, for me these are treasure. Cobra MkIII is the best ship for this type of work, because I can have a lot of cargo space, but still can defend myself in the anarchy systems. I am looking forward to exchange ideas how to make comfortable living in this hostile galaxy.
Most people I meet are quite silent, they don't reply to my hails. Even text, what to speak about the voice comms. I just cannot believe it. I hope I will find more friendly people in new systems I plan to visit.
I am Haridas Gopal hailing from barren planet on the edges of known systems. I am mainly occupied searching for valuable items in space. Some called them junk, for me these are treasure. Cobra MkIII is the best ship for this type of work, because I can have a lot of cargo space, but still can defend myself in the anarchy systems. I am looking forward to exchange ideas how to make comfortable living in this hostile galaxy.
Most people I meet are quite silent, they don't reply to my hails. Even text, what to speak about the voice comms. I just cannot believe it. I hope I will find more friendly people in new systems I plan to visit.
Last edited:
Howdy, I am Logan Rhyggs. I was born into the military life as the middle son of a fourth generation Federal Naval Officer. Commander of an elite naval fighter wing, my father always instilled duty, honor, and discipline into myself and my brothers. My mother raised her sons to be men of great integrity, always to do the right thing despite what duty demanded. At times, my parents were at odds with each other but, their devotion to family was strong and their love for each other stronger. Five years ago during a convoy, we were ambushed by an Imperial Armada. As a group of Imperial fighters made way to the clipper carrying my mother, my father's wing was assigned to protect a Federal bureaucrat. When the clipper came under fire, my father broke formation to protect it. He succeeded but, at the cost of his life. In the aftermath, my father was posthumously branded a deserter and traitor. Shunned from the Federal life my family knew, we wondered the stars looking for a new life. I now sit and wait for the day that I may impose my vengeance upon the Empire for taking my father and the Federation for turning their backs on a family that had served them for generations.
Commander Leland Jason Fox. Some call me Lee, some call me other names. Doesn't matter to me.
My story is a little boring compared to most. I grew up in a trade convoy. Both my folks were lifelong traders, having both gotten original Iron A$s Cobras from the Cowell and McGrath days. They still fly those ships from time to time, even though they've long since traded up to a Python.
That ship was my home for most of my life. They named it 'The Reorte Arrowhead'...
They were never particularly original, my folks.
Anyway, I finally got my own ship after I decided that my parents scraping together enough to buy me one was taking too long. Since about the age of 17, I started hoarding unallocated credit chits. It took me six years, but I scraped together thirty-four thousand credits, enough to travel to pick up a new ship, apply for my piloting licence, and then to register as an independent pilot.
So I took off from my folks' Python next time they put in to Trevithick Dock and decided to make a name for myself. The credits I needed for a 'new' Sidewinder had been paid, and I was loaned a couple of pulse lasers to start out with, plus a few other bits of standard equipment. Then I got a message from Charlie, my 'uncle', a friend of the family, telling me that my folks had managed to find an old Eagle belonging to one of their old convoy escorts. The old pilot couldn't fly it any more, and it wouldn't get much on the market, so they said I could have it.
Not bad. It even came with weapons. All I had to do was fly and pick it up and the transfer documents would be prepped and ready for me to sign once I docked at Dalton Gateway.
So here I am, docked at Dalton, with two ships to my name. I haven't decided what to do with the Eagle yet, whether to keep it for combat or sell it and put the credits into my Sidewinder, but the Sidey is pretty rough, and while the Eagle is old, it has been treated well, with no damaged or worn systems, and I could get replacement parts as easily as I can for my Sidey, even though Eagles aren't built any more.
Maybe I'll keep it. It has some use as a combat fighter if I need one, and the Sidey has better cargo ability, so I could switch it up if I need to.
That's something for me to think about. For now, time for me to catch up on galactic news. My ship needs to fuel before I can jump out again.
Cmdr. Lee Jason Fox
HARMLESS PENNILESS AIMLESS
My story is a little boring compared to most. I grew up in a trade convoy. Both my folks were lifelong traders, having both gotten original Iron A$s Cobras from the Cowell and McGrath days. They still fly those ships from time to time, even though they've long since traded up to a Python.
That ship was my home for most of my life. They named it 'The Reorte Arrowhead'...
They were never particularly original, my folks.
Anyway, I finally got my own ship after I decided that my parents scraping together enough to buy me one was taking too long. Since about the age of 17, I started hoarding unallocated credit chits. It took me six years, but I scraped together thirty-four thousand credits, enough to travel to pick up a new ship, apply for my piloting licence, and then to register as an independent pilot.
So I took off from my folks' Python next time they put in to Trevithick Dock and decided to make a name for myself. The credits I needed for a 'new' Sidewinder had been paid, and I was loaned a couple of pulse lasers to start out with, plus a few other bits of standard equipment. Then I got a message from Charlie, my 'uncle', a friend of the family, telling me that my folks had managed to find an old Eagle belonging to one of their old convoy escorts. The old pilot couldn't fly it any more, and it wouldn't get much on the market, so they said I could have it.
Not bad. It even came with weapons. All I had to do was fly and pick it up and the transfer documents would be prepped and ready for me to sign once I docked at Dalton Gateway.
So here I am, docked at Dalton, with two ships to my name. I haven't decided what to do with the Eagle yet, whether to keep it for combat or sell it and put the credits into my Sidewinder, but the Sidey is pretty rough, and while the Eagle is old, it has been treated well, with no damaged or worn systems, and I could get replacement parts as easily as I can for my Sidey, even though Eagles aren't built any more.
Maybe I'll keep it. It has some use as a combat fighter if I need one, and the Sidey has better cargo ability, so I could switch it up if I need to.
That's something for me to think about. For now, time for me to catch up on galactic news. My ship needs to fuel before I can jump out again.
Cmdr. Lee Jason Fox
HARMLESS PENNILESS AIMLESS
Last edited:
I am a coming storm, a scourge that will soon be heard across the universe. I have thrown my family name away and now only answer to my code name "Cyber Viking." Who I once was is not important but soon my name will strike fear into the hearts of all who spacefare into my cross-hairs.
Commander Jason Malak
Terry Malak, Jason's dad, shipped items from planet to planet (primarily for the Empire) until he was attacked and killed by pirates. Jason, now 28 and trained enough to fly a ship of his own, earns money for his family, but still vows to find those pirates and avenge his father!
Terry Malak, Jason's dad, shipped items from planet to planet (primarily for the Empire) until he was attacked and killed by pirates. Jason, now 28 and trained enough to fly a ship of his own, earns money for his family, but still vows to find those pirates and avenge his father!
Commander Hek is little more than a mercenary merchant, plying his trade in Federal space for the time being. Owing allegiance to no one, he takes profit where it is there to be taken and serves the highest bidder. Already the Federation has recognized his ambition and awarded him the Midshipman title. With it, he has partial immunity to interdiction in the systems he frequents. Rumors are circulating that he is exploiting the favor of the Federation and their distractions with other more pressing matters, to smuggle slaves into a number of Federal systems.
- Commander Arktac Biography -
I was born on the planet Trojan in the Eta Cassiopeia system. Growing up in the rural province outside of Manchester city had it's benefits. Not every kid grew up
shooting guns, hunting, exploring and spending hours a day racing the cheap vehicles that we could get our hands on; even if it meant stealing them,
But I couldn't stay away from the adrenaline rush of high speeds and close calls.
The older I became the less the Federation approved of my mischief behavior. I found myself running from the law on multiple occasions, but eventually it all
caught up with me.
At the age of 18 I told myself I was going to leave Trojan, I wanted to travel and experience the universe. But I sure as hell wasn't going to get myself killed in the
process. I knew I would die if I set off into the vast unforgiving universe without any real survival skills.
I knew that if I joined the Federal Navy it would teach me the skills I needed to survive.
At the earliest age possible I joined the Federal Navy. Luckily for me; Trojan housed the Naval Academy's foremost planetary assualt training centre.
During my tours I picked up the nickname Arktac, I've heard it's because my demeanor and humor resembles that of the icy unforgiving regions. Not that I feel it's
fitting, but It stuck and it's now the only name I hold.
My years serving the Federation were some of the best years of my life. That is.. until my task force was sent to assualt a planet held by the Empire. Just like every
assualt; this was a text book offensive maneuver, the empire didn't know what had hit them. Our objective was a compound that resembled a prison, we breached
through the roof to see that it was slaves, children.. My men quickly assisted with the rescue only to have the slaves turn on us. Before we had a chance to react the
children drew their weapons and began to fire upon my team. Only a handful of us were able to retreat, each of us wounded, we barely managed to reach our evac ship.
We had the intel we came for. I just hoped it was worth the lives of my friends.
Project Cerberus.. A classified program to turn hand selected slaves into the pinnacle of war fighting killers. Afew months later I received an honorable discharge and a
high performance prophetic leg. Throughout my military career I admittedly spent most my credits on traveling and extravagant clubs, but in the end I had just enough
credits to purchase myself a Eagle Mk II. I knew that with my leg and the end of my military career I could no longer make a difference on the ground. So I took to the
stars with the desire to stop the Empire and to become apart of something greater..
This is where my journey begins..
I was born on the planet Trojan in the Eta Cassiopeia system. Growing up in the rural province outside of Manchester city had it's benefits. Not every kid grew up
shooting guns, hunting, exploring and spending hours a day racing the cheap vehicles that we could get our hands on; even if it meant stealing them,
But I couldn't stay away from the adrenaline rush of high speeds and close calls.
The older I became the less the Federation approved of my mischief behavior. I found myself running from the law on multiple occasions, but eventually it all
caught up with me.
At the age of 18 I told myself I was going to leave Trojan, I wanted to travel and experience the universe. But I sure as hell wasn't going to get myself killed in the
process. I knew I would die if I set off into the vast unforgiving universe without any real survival skills.
I knew that if I joined the Federal Navy it would teach me the skills I needed to survive.
At the earliest age possible I joined the Federal Navy. Luckily for me; Trojan housed the Naval Academy's foremost planetary assualt training centre.
During my tours I picked up the nickname Arktac, I've heard it's because my demeanor and humor resembles that of the icy unforgiving regions. Not that I feel it's
fitting, but It stuck and it's now the only name I hold.
My years serving the Federation were some of the best years of my life. That is.. until my task force was sent to assualt a planet held by the Empire. Just like every
assualt; this was a text book offensive maneuver, the empire didn't know what had hit them. Our objective was a compound that resembled a prison, we breached
through the roof to see that it was slaves, children.. My men quickly assisted with the rescue only to have the slaves turn on us. Before we had a chance to react the
children drew their weapons and began to fire upon my team. Only a handful of us were able to retreat, each of us wounded, we barely managed to reach our evac ship.
We had the intel we came for. I just hoped it was worth the lives of my friends.
Project Cerberus.. A classified program to turn hand selected slaves into the pinnacle of war fighting killers. Afew months later I received an honorable discharge and a
high performance prophetic leg. Throughout my military career I admittedly spent most my credits on traveling and extravagant clubs, but in the end I had just enough
credits to purchase myself a Eagle Mk II. I knew that with my leg and the end of my military career I could no longer make a difference on the ground. So I took to the
stars with the desire to stop the Empire and to become apart of something greater..
This is where my journey begins..
This whole commander thing is new to me.
I grew up moving from outpost to outpost. My father's job with the Federal government kept us on the move. I've been told my early childhood was fairly routine. Then, one night, my sister Samantha was taken. Officially she was the victim of some still unknown accident which saw her ejected into space, but I never bought that. I was convinced she was abducted by extraterrestrial beings that inhabit our galaxy. I saw her abduction with my own eyes, though nobody believed me. They called it a manufactured memory, some defensive crap my young brain pulled to cope with the loss. Moreover, my father began having very strange dealings with various men from the Federation in the years that followed. It convinced me that somehow this was something the government knew about, and was actively lying to protect itself. I could think of no better way of finding the truth than embedding myself in the source of the lie, so I joined the Federation Investigative Service.
I was sidelined, filibustered, and generally kept on the fringe of anything important for a solid twenty years. In hindsight, perhaps I could have been a bit more discrete in my agenda, but the more I dug the bigger the lies became, and I could not remain silent. My sister was still out there, and I wouldn't let some suits get in my way. The administrative body set me up with this redheaded agent with an equally red-hot wit. They thought she could calm me, bring me in line, get me to merrily dance along as they pulled my strings. Unfortunately for them, she only emboldened me further to find the true nature of my sister's disappearance, and all behind it.
Eventually, we discovered that the conspiracy was not limited to just the Federation, but was a joint effort between the three galactic superpowers. Efforts to what end, I still don't know. What I do know is, this group of men is actively concealing the existence of sentient extraterrestrial life in our galaxy. A man named Braben with an Earthborn accent seems to be a key player in all this, but his true influence is still unknown. Somehow, word of our discovery crept back to the powers that be, resulting in my immediate dismissal from FIS. They thought that would end me. They didn't expect my redheaded partner to follow me out the door, and they never expected me to gain Commander status.
And that is where I am today, free from regulation, with decades of FIS knowledge and contacts, and with my dear redhead at my side. I will not be stopped. I will explore every system, subdue any enemy, and follow every lead until I have the answers I seek. I will prove to the world that I'm not some washed up, delusional ex-Federal agent with an axe to grind. I will expose these men for what they are. I will rescue my sister from their clutches. The truth is out there, and I will find it.
I grew up moving from outpost to outpost. My father's job with the Federal government kept us on the move. I've been told my early childhood was fairly routine. Then, one night, my sister Samantha was taken. Officially she was the victim of some still unknown accident which saw her ejected into space, but I never bought that. I was convinced she was abducted by extraterrestrial beings that inhabit our galaxy. I saw her abduction with my own eyes, though nobody believed me. They called it a manufactured memory, some defensive crap my young brain pulled to cope with the loss. Moreover, my father began having very strange dealings with various men from the Federation in the years that followed. It convinced me that somehow this was something the government knew about, and was actively lying to protect itself. I could think of no better way of finding the truth than embedding myself in the source of the lie, so I joined the Federation Investigative Service.
I was sidelined, filibustered, and generally kept on the fringe of anything important for a solid twenty years. In hindsight, perhaps I could have been a bit more discrete in my agenda, but the more I dug the bigger the lies became, and I could not remain silent. My sister was still out there, and I wouldn't let some suits get in my way. The administrative body set me up with this redheaded agent with an equally red-hot wit. They thought she could calm me, bring me in line, get me to merrily dance along as they pulled my strings. Unfortunately for them, she only emboldened me further to find the true nature of my sister's disappearance, and all behind it.
Eventually, we discovered that the conspiracy was not limited to just the Federation, but was a joint effort between the three galactic superpowers. Efforts to what end, I still don't know. What I do know is, this group of men is actively concealing the existence of sentient extraterrestrial life in our galaxy. A man named Braben with an Earthborn accent seems to be a key player in all this, but his true influence is still unknown. Somehow, word of our discovery crept back to the powers that be, resulting in my immediate dismissal from FIS. They thought that would end me. They didn't expect my redheaded partner to follow me out the door, and they never expected me to gain Commander status.
And that is where I am today, free from regulation, with decades of FIS knowledge and contacts, and with my dear redhead at my side. I will not be stopped. I will explore every system, subdue any enemy, and follow every lead until I have the answers I seek. I will prove to the world that I'm not some washed up, delusional ex-Federal agent with an axe to grind. I will expose these men for what they are. I will rescue my sister from their clutches. The truth is out there, and I will find it.
Commander Chef-Jitsu reporting...
Hello all! I am Chef-Jitsu, a former Federated troop/officer transport pilot. I now do freelance work and call the Sol system home. I do my best to obey system laws but I can't just let cargo float through space, it is dangerous so I dabble in some smuggling when the occasion calls for it. I have no love for the Empire and their antiquated social and political outlooks, or the Alliance riding the line between both the Empire and Federation. If you require a small trade run, security, or recon done contact me and the Galileo Station, cheers.
o7 Commanders and I hope to see you among the stars!!!
Hello all! I am Chef-Jitsu, a former Federated troop/officer transport pilot. I now do freelance work and call the Sol system home. I do my best to obey system laws but I can't just let cargo float through space, it is dangerous so I dabble in some smuggling when the occasion calls for it. I have no love for the Empire and their antiquated social and political outlooks, or the Alliance riding the line between both the Empire and Federation. If you require a small trade run, security, or recon done contact me and the Galileo Station, cheers.
o7 Commanders and I hope to see you among the stars!!!
Greetings everyone.
My name is CMDR Agnès. Since I was born I lived in my grandfather's farm in Wyrd. The love I had for piloting ships was innate, at 6 years old I could fly my grandfather's little Hauler through all the farm. I spend all my childhood learning how to trade and how to avoid pirate's interdictions.
When I was 20, my grandfather's passed away to a better life, and I decided to move away from there too. I sold the farm and with that money I could buy a Sidewinder well equiped and start doing my own life. I started trading, making profit, and I could buy a better ship.
Right now I am with my new Adder. I like trading, exploring and hunting a lot of pirates.
End of transmission.
My name is CMDR Agnès. Since I was born I lived in my grandfather's farm in Wyrd. The love I had for piloting ships was innate, at 6 years old I could fly my grandfather's little Hauler through all the farm. I spend all my childhood learning how to trade and how to avoid pirate's interdictions.
When I was 20, my grandfather's passed away to a better life, and I decided to move away from there too. I sold the farm and with that money I could buy a Sidewinder well equiped and start doing my own life. I started trading, making profit, and I could buy a better ship.
Right now I am with my new Adder. I like trading, exploring and hunting a lot of pirates.
End of transmission.
Last edited:
Cool! See you in the galaxy with your Adder then! Glad to have at least 1 female CMDR in this entire universe xD
An smoke curtain covers the cantina's bar for a few seconds before a glove-covered hand broke it ti reach an enclosed glass of strong liquor, floating in an still position, held by an small tractor beam. M.Volgrand brough the glass to his mouth, while his long curly, brown hair floated, gravity-free around his head. He was holding himself in position by wrapping his legs around some sort of chair nailed to the outpost designated 'floor' side.
Yep, zero-G cantinas could be a bit difficult for new space travellers. Volgrand took a gulp of the liquor and placed it back in the tractor beam, before looking again towards his, so-called new friend.
"So, you want to know about me... good" he said coldly, "not like I have anything to hide."
Volgrand took a new grab on his cigar, blowing the smoke away. No gravity meant that the smoke would form a cloud around his head if he did not blow it away.
"I as born in LT4337; my father was a Federal Police officer and was killed when I was five. I never really knew him. My mother's still alive. I had a good childhood: security, education, a place to call 'home'..."
He grabbed the glass, taking a new gulp of the liquor. An smell reached the nose of the interviewer, whisky?
"I was not made for working in an station. So, I worked just enough to permit myself a SideWinder and... well, did you hear about the ship lottery?" he asked. His new 'friend' nodded. "Well, I was lucky and won a new Eagle. Good ship, but I sold it soon to get a hauler and do some trading, and to grew fed up of the Federals". Volgrand stopped talking when he noticed the shock in his interviewer. "What? Goddamn truth, man. So, here I am now, working for the Crimson State".
Suddenly his communicator bleeped and Volgrand activated it. After a few seconds he smiled and burned down the cigarrette. "If you excuse me, my new Eagle is ready to fly. Nice to talk to you, mister".
That said, Volgrand pushed himself out of the place where he was grabbing and gently floated towards the hangars.
Yep, zero-G cantinas could be a bit difficult for new space travellers. Volgrand took a gulp of the liquor and placed it back in the tractor beam, before looking again towards his, so-called new friend.
"So, you want to know about me... good" he said coldly, "not like I have anything to hide."
Volgrand took a new grab on his cigar, blowing the smoke away. No gravity meant that the smoke would form a cloud around his head if he did not blow it away.
"I as born in LT4337; my father was a Federal Police officer and was killed when I was five. I never really knew him. My mother's still alive. I had a good childhood: security, education, a place to call 'home'..."
He grabbed the glass, taking a new gulp of the liquor. An smell reached the nose of the interviewer, whisky?
"I was not made for working in an station. So, I worked just enough to permit myself a SideWinder and... well, did you hear about the ship lottery?" he asked. His new 'friend' nodded. "Well, I was lucky and won a new Eagle. Good ship, but I sold it soon to get a hauler and do some trading, and to grew fed up of the Federals". Volgrand stopped talking when he noticed the shock in his interviewer. "What? Goddamn truth, man. So, here I am now, working for the Crimson State".
Suddenly his communicator bleeped and Volgrand activated it. After a few seconds he smiled and burned down the cigarrette. "If you excuse me, my new Eagle is ready to fly. Nice to talk to you, mister".
That said, Volgrand pushed himself out of the place where he was grabbing and gently floated towards the hangars.