ROLEPLAYING - Introduce your Commander

[Lerian]

The reporter approaches a table in the hazy bar and asks if he can interview the man sitting there. A short explanation that Galnet is investigating repetitive rumours and the man agrees. Multiple lenses focus and his ID tag beeps, telling anyone nearby that he has been scanned. Galnet viewers will see Commander Alexander Lerian in all his Clean, Mostly Harmless glory. Short brown hair tops a square-jawed lightly tanned face and green eyes shift around the room as he talks. The fashion conscious viewer will note the Imperial styled clothing, old enough to show an anti-fashion outlook or a lack of the credits necessary to keep up with the latest trends. A different kind of viewer might notice the clothing is worn over the type of wiry body that some boarders cultivate, thin enough to move through ducts and tight corridors but with enough fast-twitch muscles to throw one into cover or grab and hold in a decompression.

The reporter starts simply, getting the pilot to talk about his time in the local Independent systems, his hopes to be remembered for discoveries but quickly shows his skill when the pilot admits he is formerly of the Empire and is not used to the freely available narcotics, drinks and chemicals that are available in the independent stations. A few more drinks, a mist bowl on a nearby table and the conversation is guided to the pilots former life in the marines before his acceptance into fast interceptor training after studying astrophysics in his own time.

An average run through the astronautical academy, an average series of first missions and the flying officer looked set to have a thoroughly average flight career until retirement. Fate played a hand though with the newly promoted pilot refusing to fire upon a slaver vessel , demanding they wait for boarders which resulted in the ship escaping and him facing court martial. The reporter tries for information; dates, times, just an approximate but pushes too hard and receives a half hour tirade on Imperial slavery versus what Lerian calls 'actual slavery'.

The reporter manages to steer the conversation back to the lead he is chasing, Lerian sold the Eagle he escaped in for new identity, (Galnet subtitles dutifully add quote marks to 'Alexander Lerian'), an independent pilot licence and a secondhand sidewinder, trading his way up to a Cobra Mk III. He has since traded back down to a new Sidewinder and an attempt at the Buckyball run. Lerian suddenly becomes animated and forthcoming with information. He explains the checkpoints that pilots have to visit and discusses his own test routes, he explains that it is nice to do something for himself and how he hopes this will give him the push to act more independently.
The reporter ends the conversation, allowing Galnet to enter an advertising break. He checks his contact list for the next alleged Buckyball run pilot and is greeted with "DAN-DAN-DAAAAAAAN! Captain Chaos agrees to meet you for an interview in 'Nova Supreme' on Froude ring." Rolling his eyes, the reporter heads for the nearest elevator.

 

[Bananenkeks]

My name is James but mostly I'm called Cmdr Bananenkeks. It is German and means a cookie made with bananas. My age is 18 and I only remember that I fought drunk in a bar. After that I only had a Sidewinder, that I stole from an Empire pilot, who was sleeping with his bottle of beer in his mouth. I don't remember my past and I don't want to know it.

After flying and shooting my way around some systems, I finally found something useful to do. I reached the Maujinagoto-system. There are 5 parties who want me to support them. The system itself is officially controlled by the Federation but the party of the Silver Rat Pirates is dominating the black market. There is were I came in. I'm hunting now the Silver Rats to cancel their illegal activities. Also I'm trying to increase my influence by the Maujinagoto Inc. Maybe, one day, I will take over the lead of the Inc.

After a few days I got allied with the Federation. Now I'm thinking of the pilot who lost his ship to me... and what kind of punishment he got. Maybe I buy him a new Sidewinder if I meet him. I already bought myself a Cobra MK III and I'm already saving for a Python. Maybe I will find clues to my past. Or maybe I will meet a Cmdr who works for the Silver Rats.

If someone knows me, then please don't tell me about my past. I don't want to know because it gives me the creeps when I only think about what I could have done in my past.

 

[Goose4291]

Further information to follow

 

[Maddog Goldman]

Commander "Maddog" Goldman

"Maddog" Goldman was once a simple pilot for a mining rig named the Rebounder, which operated out of Trevithick Dock in LHS 3447. During its previous mission, the port thruster failed, causing the ship to enter a deadly spin towards the asteroid it had previously been mining. Despite his best efforts, the ship crashed into the asteroid, rupturing the hull and emptying the atmosphere of the vessel. He was saved from death by a combination of his simple pilot suit and the automated systems that sealed the bulkheads between the cockpit and the rest of the ship.

He was rescued a few days later by a routine patrol ship that happened to pass close to the wreckage. Returned to the Trevithick with nothing to show for it but his small savings account and a lifetime's worth of guilt and regret. For the next few months he drowned his sorrows and his wallet in the bar and wallowed in his own depression, until he was barely above a beggar. It was then that he was approached by a mysterious figure from the coveted Pilot's Federation, with a simple contract. Goldman would get a ship, some credits, and be considered one of the Pilot's Federation, and all he had to do was sign.

Considering that he had a measly handful of credits- not even enough for one last drink -he eagerly accepted, becoming the proud owner of the lovingly named Black Betsy sidewinder and a thousand credit balance. As he sat in the familiar pilot's chair, ready to ply his craft again, his thoughts wandered to his former crew. His old guilt and remorse flooded back, forcing him away from the controls. As he stumbled back towards the bar, ready to waste the generous gift he was given he stopped. He knew that the road he was wandering was the wrong path to take. He knew that once he entered that bar, he would never again leave Trevithick, unless it was to go to a prison planet. He knew what he had to do.

His mind made up, he packed what little possessions he stilled owned, changed his first name, and left LHS 3447 never to return. He spent the next few days trading in the nearby Eravate system, getting himself a nice nest egg and preparing for a much longer trip- to where he knew not. As he traded, he was approached by a member of an unknown corporation who wanted him to pick up some form of dead drop in another nearby system. Figuring that the large sum of credits they were offering was well worth the simple task, he gladly took up their offer, leaving the next day for LP 571-80.

Once there, he spent many an hour scouring the area for the dead drop, with very little luck. In fact, he was nearly interdicted and attacked. Shaken, he hurried to finish the job ahead of him and leave the system behind. Not long after that he approached what he thought was the dead drop, but was instead hailed by another unknown pilot, who offered him a greater reward for returning the dead drop contents to Worlidge Terminal back in LHS 3447. He was faced with a dilemma- either keep his word, and his promise to himself, and return the contents to Ackerman Market, or go back to LHS 3447 and reap a much greater reward.

The decision was made for him, however, when the unknown Pilot rammed his vessel, apparently irked by Goldman's lack of response. Quickly Goldman activated his FSD and left, hoping to avoid further damages to his vessel. His luck turned around, however, when he finally discovered the dead drop and grabbed what it contained, eager to return and seek the repairs that he most desperately needed.

Upon his return, he gave his cargo over to the corporation that requested it, only to be later accosted by station officials and fined nearly double the amount he had been paid. Forced to stay at the station until he coughed up the credits to leave, he followed a simple paper trail only to discover it was the very corporation that requested his help in the first place that had alerted the officials to his deeds. Outraged at the double cross and at not being told about the legality of the job in the first place, he broke station code and manually left the dock, punching out as fast as he could.

Angry at the corrupt nature of the Federation he made for Alliance space, hoping to be able to seek a new life there. He made one pit stop to acquire a fuel scoop, before leaving the Federation behind entirely. Now, many light years from his former home at Trevithick, he arrived at LHS 2931, ready to start a new life. Perhaps he can even fulfill his childhood dreams of being a navy admiral, ordering entire fleets of ships as if they were nothing more than chess pieces.

Of course, he'd have to find a recruiting station first, and work his way through the ranks. But that was in the future. First he had to build up his fortune and get a better ship. Perhaps a hauler... And then maybe an Asp. Until then, he will continue his current status as 'space crapout.'

 

[STRONTIUM DOG]

its a dog eat dog verse



I was another one of those zero g births
born out of remlock in the cargo hold of a slave smugglers
anaconda.
Cut out of my dying mothers womb by another slave who was fortunate enough to have one
who manged to also keep me alive somehow by
fitting me into the belly of her suit.

Rhona became my emegency surrogate mother
and broght me up under servitude working
in the loading docks of various stations
in the imperial sector
due to doing the shake n vac at birth and briefly breathing military jump radio-actives i was brain dammaged in a very specific way
this caused my pineal gland to swell to twice the normal size.
This gave me a special abilty to see slightly into the infared wavelength using any old tv remote they never see me coming if its dark even though the strobe effect is disorienting...............
In my teens whilst working in said docks
i noticed a tiny piece of debris float through the main opening and settle whithin my reach, it appeared to be ancient in design it had the words kindle writen upon it.
After studing it and constucting a makeshift transformer out of bits an picecs of scrap.
I read of an ancient bounty hunter called jhonny alpha with special abilitys.
a search and destroy agent also known as strontium dogs due to there mutation from the fallout on old earth
I ditched my old name of Zod beeblebrox after this and swore to avenge my mother by getting a ship(the soup dragon) and killing the slave smugglers who were responsible for her death, I never knew my farther and not sure I would want too no wonder I ditched that name......
the name of the slave smugglers ship was the Amistad if only I could find it...........
in the meantime I would bounty hunt my way across the milky way
I seek um here I seek um there those bountys seek um everywhere
PS especialy the dark chocolate ones and I hate milky ways anyways
and watch your hands if ya going to get them from Lave the vending machine there almost took my hand clean off
and the synthi caffe coffie tasts like sh*t

 

[ever]

CMDR Marco Evergenitos

Born in System Ovid, on Planet Kenash.
Mother and Father were Imperial slaves, who managed to escape into Federation space. They were both killed as I've just turned 19 by an imperial bounty hunter. My father left me a Sidewinder, which I crashed into the bounty hunter's Anaconda. The Federation's Navy recovered my escape pod and offered me a new Sidewinder and a place in the Navy. I'm currently a Warrant Officer and I'm preparing for an expedition in the Outer Rims.

When I'm getting back I shall fight Commies, Nazis, Mobsters and of course the Empire.
Contact me if you want to join the good fight.

 

[Tom Hawks]

[Incoming Transmission]

Greetings, i am Tom Hawks an independent pilot who was born and raised in LHS 3447. when i first started my career as a freelance contractor i had a rough start, forced to use a pitiful sidewinder that had been loaned to me i worked my way up to an ASP through hard work and sheer determination. What i support is personal liberties, Aisling Duval's attempt at freeing imperial slaves, the Alliance, and whoever wants to work towards the greater good, what i hate is slavery, those who terrorize the common man, and dictatorships as those types of governments usually do not end well. My goal is to make this universe a better place and to achieve this goal i will first have to start using logic to find out who is best suited for the title of emperor.

 

[Darshendros the Eternal]

CMDR Char Azmodai

CHAR AZMODAI
Age: 30
Date of Birth: 31 OCT 3271
Home Planet: Baal B 1
Occupation: Bounty Hunter
Allegiance: Empire
Faction: None
Pilot Rank: Deadly

CMDR Char Azmodai is an Imperial bounty hunter currently pledged to Arissa Lavigny-Duval and based out of Stromgren Orbital in the Baal system. His achievements up to date have earned him an Allied status with the Empire and the honorary rank of Baron with the Imperial Navy, although he is not an official member of the military. His recorded kills have earned him a combat rank of Deadly with the Pilots' Federation.

Born on Planet [Baal B 1] on 31 October, 3271, Char was an only child in a military family with a traditional Imperial upbringing. His father was a commander in the Imperial Navy and his mother worked as a nurse in Tousey Orbital. As a child, Char always wanted to be a pilot like his father, to gaze at the stars and explore the galaxy from the cockpit of his own ship. After his parents were murdered by the Dragons of Baal, the dream of becoming an intergalactic explorer turned into one of becoming a bounty hunter and avenging his dead parents. When he was 17, he took his father's Viper Mk. II across the solar system and exacted his revenge, killing the pirates that killed his family, but nearly sacrificing his own life in the process. He barely made it back to Stromgren Orbital before the life support could fail. He has been fighting the pirate scourge ever since, across multiple systems within a hundred light years from Baal, using the credits earned to buy his own Viper Mk. III, constantly upgrading to more powerful ships until eventually being able to afford to his current ship, the Python, "Malevolence".

Char later worked for the Emperor's Grace, cleaning up systems and enforcing Senator Patreus' will, up until it was discovered that a rogue faction of the party tried to assassinate the Emperor. Despite Senator Patreus' denial of involvement, it left a bad taste in Char's mouth and he left the Senator's services, pledging himself instead to Arissa Lavigny-Duval. He shares her vision of justice and a stronger Empire, and he certainly has the means of enforcing it in a Python. She also pays more. That's most important.

 

[Fat Barry]

Fergus "Fat Barry" MacInnes

(When I chose my CMDR name, I didn't really think of roleplaying, just chose the usual player name... then I realised that roleplaying helps you get the most out of this game. I think it worked well, because I've created a background around the name I probably otherwise wouldn't have thought of)

Born on Eravate 5 to a lower-class agricultural family, Fergus Bartholemew MacInnes grew up staring up at the stars and longing for something more than a simple farm life. He got more than he bargained for. Plagued with money problems, Fergus's father had gotten the family into debt, and before long, the less-than-reputable creditors came looking for their credits, plus interest.

Fergus stepped up to the plate and offered to work off his family debt for the gang by running jobs for them. The gang gave him a Sidewinder, and Fergus began running all sorts of questionable cargo through Federation space. Over the years, a begrudging respect developed between Fergus and the gang. They admired his resourcefulness and dedication, and he admired their entrepreneurial spirit, despite their questionable moral code.

Time took its' toll on Fergus's father. He passed away a number of years later, a sick and broken man. Fergus's mother soon followed. Having lost his family, Eravate 5 had nothing more for him. He offered up his family property to pay off the remaining debt, leaving him with enough to purchase the Sidewinder the gang had loaned him for all those years. A bittersweet farewell, and Fergus made his way to the nearest station to begin his new life. At last, he was free.

Fergus earned the nickname "Fat Barry" while working for the gang. He is actually tall and quite slim. After his first mission, he returned to base and used his hard earned credits to purchase an enormous meal he could never have imagined eating on his family's meager income. Some of the gang members saw him shovelling the food down and nicknamed him "Fat Barry" (Bartholomew being his middle name). The name stuck, and all these years later, he wears it as a badge of pride.

Today, Fat Barry has made a name for himself in Federation space as a mercenary and small-time trader. He's not afraid to rub shoulders with shadier characters, but refuses to lower himself to their level. His friends describe him as a somewhat likeable rogue, a little idealistic and brash. He is ambitious however, and has his eyes on the horizon. He refuses to dig himself into a hole like his father before him.

 

[CyberOcelot]

New Pilot Registration

Name: Commander

Spoiler

Blank Field Accepted

Boyan
Sex: Male
Age: 36
Birthplace:

Spoiler

Classified

Family History / Lineage:

Delivered to

Spoiler

Classified

orphanage in

Spoiler

Classified

system on the date of

Spoiler

April, 11th

, 3265. Estimated date of birth was 5-9 days prior to this event.

Trainer Observations:

English speaking gentleman seems unaware of current events, and not familiar with his surroundings. Appears eager to learn, and competent enough to use ship systems to determine an optimal course and recognize potentially dangerous territories. Shows interest in engineering, as he is also near completion on developing a homemade head tracking unit, and intuitive voice command input for potentially better control over his ships. His combat skills are adequate. His classmates often refer to him as CyberOcelot.

Training Officer,

Spoiler

Classified

 

[Tryst]

Cmdr Magwai

I don't like to reveal my real name so I chose a callsign instead. Like the callsign implies, I may look cute and cuddly but there can be a darker side to me if provoked, that others often find out the hard way. Like the Eagle pilot who thought my fully laden Type 6 was an easy target, he never lived long enough to regret it.

I grew up in one of the remote mining colonies and learned to look after myself. Life is hard there and food is scarce because traders don't want petty 10 credit profits per unit when there's far more to be made from machinery, minerals and metals. Nobody wants to run the gauntlet of pirates that plague the mining colonies with such low profits as a reward.
I learned from a very early age to keep a firm grip on what I had and never let go, even when taking a beating from those who wanted to take it from me. I learned to trade and barter and use the black market to get food for my family. We didn't have much, but we didn't starve.
I still remember the day I left home to become a pilot, my mother cried because most pilots died to pirates very early in their careers. My dad said I was a fool to think I would survive long out there and I should become a miner like him which was a safer place to be. "Yes," I said, "so safe that starvation is what kills most miners long before age ever does. Don't worry, I'll keep clear of anything I can't handle."
I went back in my Cobra Mk. III not long after that and delivered a huge cargo of food to our colony. "You see dad," I said, "I did it and the pirates rarely mess with me now I fly this. Plus I have earned more from trading in a week than you earn in a whole year." He would never admit it but I could see he was impressed, mum just hugged me hard and cried again... What is it with women and crying?

 

[chancey]

My Story so far

Name: Lord Chance
Age: Unknown
Birthplace: LTT 3447

Last known location: Balaikda

I made my money trading as a young adult but always knew the dark world of mercenary work was for me. I sold my trading vessels and fled my home system for a journey into the unknown. I am neither against the Federtion or with them, the same can be said for the Empire and Alliance factions. I am however not afraid to ruffle some feathers if it gets in the way of earning a credit or two. I have morals and will lend a hand if I see fit but I always abide by this one rule. Trust no one.....

Along my journey I have come across all types of Commanders. It is this experience that has made me the pilot I am today

 

[heavymetaltcup]

--------

 

[Praxus]

How did I get here?

"Listen!" The he said as he slapped his palms on the desk. His head hurt, and the Coffee... or what passed for coffee here was long gone. He didn't want another refill. "I'm telling you, I don't remember how I got here. How many damn times do I have to repeat it?!"

Jameson, the man doing the interview looked just as frustrated. He'd read the file on this individual... criminal really. She'd rammed a station with an odd ship. The ship was destroyed, and the pilot had barely survived thanks to a heavily reinforced escape capsule. The electronics were damaged beyond repair, and were inconceivable to the best tech-heads in the system. Pushing up his glasses, he gestured to the camera and in a few moments, a pretty young secretary came in with a beefy looking guard as escort, She set down a tray with sandwich wedges and more coffee. Once the pair had left, he picked up the coffee and sipped, taking a seat and staring at the woman. That was the most peculiar thing about this person. She insisted that she was a man, when every possible medical examination confirmed that she was a woman. "Alright. Start for me again. You say your name is Praxus May'Salkiriiss and You are a Minmatar..," he looked to the file for confirmation, the word was odd to pronounce. ..."of the Sebiestor tribe. Is that corr-"

"You know it's correct!" He shouted, and hung his head. He could not understand what had happened. The fact that he was in this place, this time, confounded him. He would have to get used to his new body as well. It was his, he supposed, and had no idea how he had turned from a good looking, healthy, and fit man to a slender, lithe, athletic woman. He still had his mind though, and for him, bodies were... well... he knew he had died at least six times, but the wonders of the cloning process kept his mind intact. 'Guess I'm not Immortal now' he thought to himself. This station felt so wrong. With it's low gravity and need to spin... where was all the gravity plating? A battleship could destroy this place in a few well placed volleys. Too bad he was in a smaller ship... "My name is Praxus May'Salkiriiss." He shot a look that would have frozen a white dwarf at Jameson. "I am thirty years old. I was born in the city of Kath on the continent of Mikramurka in the Northern Hemisphere of the planet Matar in the Pator system, part of the constellation Sveipar in the Heimatar Region in the New Eden Galaxy. I was born in YC-85 on July 24 at 0400. I went to the Pator Tech School to learn to be a Pilot, Became a capsuler, and the last thing I remember before I woke up here was my ship nearly destroyed around me and drifting into a wormhole. Your techs tell me that wormholes are just a theory, but that's how I got here. It's all in the report, and I will NOT explain it again!" His voice sounded odd to him, but it had his old gruffness when he wanted to make a point... or was angry. "Now. I have been told by my advocate that since I was unconscious at the time of my crash into the station, and with the wounds I suffered prior to impact, that I am not being charged with any crime." He swallowed down the coffee... and blinked. The secretary had done a fine job this time. Maybe it was the brute with her who made it last time... "And I was told that I am free to go. I've already made arrangements for a ship on loan that I can pay for quickly enough, I've been rated to fly it, and so... " He stood up and put his palms flat on the table infront of him, glaring down at Jameson. "You are going to take these restraints off and let me be on my way, or I will talk with my advocate and tell him that you are keeping me unlawfully."

Through the retelling, Jameson listened intently. The woman did not deviate from her story, but told it different enough, with the details switched around but still correct to the point that if she was lying, she was damn good at it. Wormholes? Science fiction garbage. There were Black Holes, Singularities, but nothing stable enough to go through, much less survive the approach. Another gesture to the camera and the brute of a guard came in quickly. "Uncuff her. She's free to go. Escort her out of the facility and give her her possessions." The guard complied, grumbling the whole time before gesturing towards the door. Watching the woman leave, Jameson grabbed a sandwich wedge and ate. Lunch was long overdue anyway.

Free of the authorities, he had gone to see his Advocate. The kid had a sharp wit, and the gift of gab. Well worth the money he didn't have to pay for him... yet. That was what spurred the haste in which he was trained in the use of the ships of this place. Hunting Bounties was going to be a test of his skills without direct mental control. The ship was junk anyway, but it had weapons, engines, and shields. He'd manage. Slipping his necklace on, he fingered the symbol of his house... the five points of House May'Salkiriiss. It was an ancient symbol, he knew, dating back to the days before the dark ages, even before the collapse of the Eve Gate. Virtue, Strength, Unity, Family, Wisdom, All connected by the ring of eternity. He'd made it out of scraps of his old ship as a reminder to never forget his origins. He sighed, running fingers through his short white hair and slipping on his helmet before he began the preflight checks. This, he thought, was going to be an interesting life...

[Some notes.]
[Yes, This is my original Character. He is from EVE Online,
the game I played immediately before this. He is a She now,
because I didn't realize I had set my pilots gender to female
when making it.]

[And this is the pic I like most for 'him' ]

 

[CMDR_Zalguam]

Dedicated Empire Citizen

Good day fellow Commanders.

I'm known as Commander Zalguam, my friends call me Zal for short. Ofcourse that's not my real name as I have yet to reveal my real name to anyone. Born on CAPITOL in the ACHENAR system in the year 3280.
.
Raised as a proud member of the Empire faction. My father is a respected Earl in the community. My mother,... I don't want to hear from her anymore. She lost our trust when she went out with some Federation pirate. Both of us turned this matter to the higher order on CAPITOL and got her banned from the ACHENAR system for betraying the Empire. For all I care she is a slave now.
.
The moment I turned 21 my father handed me a Sidewinder. "One has to work for his earnings and prove himself towards the Empire" is what he always said. And I agree with him, you can't get any respect if you've bin given everything. And at the moment I'm at Master rank and pilot a Type-6 Transporter. I have yet to lose any ship which I am proud off.
.
As for the Federation. I avoid any contact with them. They are not worthy my time and money. All I want to see is them crumble to the last man.
.
.
.
My regards.
Proud Empire citizen.

 

[Maiakaat]

Hello commanders,

I would like to introduce myself as the hybrid personality who identifies as Felka, whose surrogate parents were the famous though now forgotten; Galliana, founder of the Conjoiners, (and through them, the first interstellar ships known as lighthuggers) and Nevil Clavain, (a ruthless, but also morally and ethically sound commander - who switched sides three times during the early conflicts of humanity, after their emergence as a space faring-race; and helping to lay the groundwork for the survival of the human race in the battle against the inhibitors).

I was last known in historical texts as a frequent "swimmer", with a sentient biomass called the "Pattern Jugglers", located on a handful of planets within the galaxy. The pattern jugglers can re-arrange neural patterns, gift abilities temporarily, and in extreme cases merge and combine personalities permanently. Unfortunately locations for these worlds has been lost, known worlds were destroyed during the inhibitor war. In historical documents, some evidence suggests I was finally absorbed by the Juggler biomass, as often eventually happens to swimmers - with those neural patterns stored and shared amongst the biomass, which resembles a vast growing neural nervous system.


My history is well documented in the historical but now forgotten documents of Alistair Reynolds, though rather underwhelming when compared with the roles my mother and surrogate father played throughout a period of approximately 2100 to 2600.

I was found drifting in deep space near the LHS 3447 system two years ago, with a neurological profile that didn't match my identity, and limited memory of past or recent events beyond who I believe I am.


Medical technicians have debated hotly whether I have a psychological condition, but extensive analysis has shown that my neural patterns have been altered significantly, and my behaviour is consistent with the documented behavioural and communication difficulties of Felka, who was genetically engineered specifically to operate the "Great Wall of Mars", to protect the early conjoiners from religious purists; which, after destruction, led to withdrawal, and an interest in biological systems.

Unidentified seawater was also found in my stomach, and as a result the medical team believe I was psycologically fit to be discharged into my families care last year. My medical outcome was described to my family as a hybrid personality combining Felka, and my families biological identity. They believe in my exploration I stumbled and swam within a pattern juggler ocean.


My family have provided support for me for the last twelve months, and gave me their daughters ship as a gesture of generosity, with the goal of "finding myself in the abyss of deep space"; I believe this generosity is probably their last ditch attempt to regain their daughter, in the hope exploration will overcome Felka in time, and the amnesia will subside; though doctors expect this is unlikely from historical records on Pattern Juggler incidents like these.


Re-learning how to pilot a space craft has not been easy, though I have six months experience and have been able to upgrade to a safer more capable Cobra MK III after some luck in the 31 Aquilae system. Her training as an engineer, and enjoyment in exploration seems to have affected my interests, I am keen to learn about complex systems, though I also still feel the pull of the wall, the need for order, and a desire to defend against unethical and amoral threats. I also feel the pull of deep space. My strong leaning towards deep thought and slow reactions has already caused problems for me in threatening situations, I certainly will never be able to match the combat prowess of my parents.

 

[Ehop22]

Sup'? Names Eric my character is more or less who i am if i where in this moment of a space pilot so.. lets begin! read as if im shpeeling about myself

My name in Game is "Roadblock"

IC)

"Who am I? Its a complex question and at the very same God-damn time its so simple. If we're talkin' Skill? Im a Jack!.. C'mon kids keep up, Im talkin' 'Jack of all trades' here. Kinda well rounded. Work wise? I do whatever the wind, Proverbially Speakin', blows my way. So, in short im a Ball...Im two balls...Im testicles...Big ol'testiclays!" Laughing behind a closed fist "Little britian. It was an ol' Tv show back on Earth, In Amer-- You kno'what, Forget it Anyway i suppose you being a future employer of mine wanna know my personality, my history, the cliff notes to my short 25 years of life?" Nodding he moves from leaning against the wall near the window that over looked a busy hanger, to sitting in the chair in front of the desk, reversed. Folding his arms over the backrest. "Earth-born, Stationed raised. Visited Earth, America specifically" when he said "America" he Saluted with his left hand and covered his heart with his right. Retuning his refolded arms to the previous position. "Mom worked for some Corp. Making who knows what kind of gizmo, Pops was never in the picture.. in bum...Er-- anyway so moms went back and forth for the Corp from earth to station on a regular basis. On earth, i am American, i speak only American & yee ol english, Honestly i do gov..." right finger hooks his collar pulling allowing his body heat to seep out and some are in, in a faked gesture of nervousness "Yee tough crowd" spoken under his breath but audible "Movin' along, On Earth my home town is Virginia Beach, Virginia, I was a Careless and Nonchalant at times... Some say im still like that i disagree, cause im also a sarcastic smarta**. But im sure your perceptive and savvy that already eh boss man? I digress, I was a vandal, Wrote on the walls, I got into fights and ultimately karma came a round when i got a hold of a Bruce Lee movie... The legend, My idle! heh, and in the movie he used this weapon called a nunchaku, I love the hell outta them, hands down best Melee weapon out there, If you say sword or sometype of cuttin weapon i say...Bladed Nunchaku, Anyway, I was out taggin' one day, took one to many turns to evade capture from the screws and came across this Martial arts studio.. i ducked inside and there they where, just like in The Chinese Connection aka Fist of Fury aka Iron Hand Black finished wood, three deep grip cuts steel caps and chain.. I wanted them so bad i went back later that day around 6 p.m and broke in... it was closed for the day, little did i know Sifu lived there... he caught me, flipped me round and gave my A** two options, Pupil or Prisoner. So im now not only owner of Nunchaku's but i gained a skill and change my vandalistic ways"

He stands looking at a clock in the office he shakes his head "Jesus, Mary, And Joseph im draggin'... By the way, how do you tell time in space? guess its a scientifical thing.. FAST FORWARD TO MY 18TH BIRTHDAY!" He slammed his hands on the deck and peered into the startled future Employers eyes "I enlisted in the Federation.. and holy Sh*t was it boring... No aliens, weird sub humans, space chicks or Asari...mmmm Asari...Travasty, really. Well atleast since i've been out here...but most of the time i never do get out of my cockpit now do i? i could be blowing up aliens this whole time and not even be knowing it... Ive killed Tali...Garrus...Oh god no" At this point he really has no idea why he has been sedated and taken away at this point. He smirks sitting down after flipping the chair right way round "Ok Brass tax time, I got out the federation cause i put hands on my CO... typically thats met with courtmarshal and brig time or even worse" slides his finger across his throat "But luckily it was mutual combat but the Federation was feeling so generious they gave us both dishonorible discharges Screws.. they are the same all over the place. But an out is an out... I didnt follow they're lame a** orders anyway. I was really thinking about flyin the coop anyway but who has time to make the federation look bad now a days" he places both hands behind his head looking up at the metal ceiling of the office room, pushing back on his feet, balancing the chair on its back legs "Im pretty much sure I aint got this job, Right?" a smirk smears over his face as he cocks brown eyes at the man behind the desk, whom some how decides to still give him a job on security detail on a transport to another station "Right on there boss man" he gets up after listening to the details of the assignment and walks out. A Nonchalant look takes his face as he walks, as if his entire shpeel was an act to steer the man in some weird way to get the the sec job.

--

All in all he is weird... but will make things intresting.

The nickname Roadblock comes from his time on earth and his interactions with people. if he dont like you he'll make it seem as if your crusin right along and then BOOM you meet the roadblocks he puts up. If he likes you he becomes a roadblock for you if you are ever in trouble. Always the first one in last one out (shout out to the vets) any trespassers met the Roadblock.

Selfless, Compassionate, Bizaare, Spontanious, Crazy, Calm, Cool, Collected.

 

[Guardian Solar]

Guardian Solar Back story

Origin:-

Found by Federal Defence Patrol in an escape pod on a fast decaying orbit of the Sol Star. This was no easy task, it took a frame shift interdictor at fuel-scoop range of the Sol Star to catch the pod before it lost hull integrity. It took seven high speed revolutions to catch up and finally to cargo scoop the pod to safety.

This newborn baby was taken into the Federal medicare system, and after much deliberation, was allowed to be adopted by the Senior Federal Pilot who recovered the escape pod. Having a neglected yet respected childhood moving from system to system as his Adopted Parent worked on various Federal assignments. However this Federal Pilot was killed while chasing wanted pirates in the Chamunda System.

Now alone, and having to fend for himself for years in the area surrounding Evarante. Suffering starvation, wage slave exploitation and totalitarian violence. But, for whatever reason has managed a stealthy evasion of pirate criminal networks, who were ready and set for someone who fit this profile. Rejected by the commerce industry, but retaining a minor interest in what goods local traders have their eye on. He has had many hardships and endured them all.

But upon getting a working Sidewinder on loan from an unknown benefactor in the Federation Defence Force. GUARDIAN SOLAR, in his battle for survival in the Frontier, is now rapidly heading towards Elite status.

 

[Falcon_]

Ryce Kraydon grew up as an only child to Fenrick Kraydon, a wealthy Senator of the Empire, and his wife, Rona. Ryce was constantly told about his duty to the family and the Empire and how one day his role would be to further the family name and wealth. His parents had great disdain for anyone not of high ranking, they owned slaves and his father treated them appallingly, many died under his cruel hands.


As a young man, Ryce was convinced of his superiority over others and would treat his family's slaves as if they were mere property and viewed the lower ranking families as absurd in their grovelling to those of a higher societal status. Then, at a banquet of noble families, he met Earl Brandis, and saw his mother practically throwing herself at the man, while Ryce's father made a fool of himself in an attempt to garner his attention in an attempt to increase his reputation with the Earl, and thereby the Emporer. Ryce himself was looked down upon by Earl Brandis and told that maybe he was secretly his son, much to the amusement of the other guests. Even his own father laughed at the vile quip. Spineless .


Having viewed how it must feel to be treated as if he was of no worth, Ryce began to reevaluate his stance on the Empire. With his eyes now open, he witnessed the suffering of the poor and the slaves every day. As well as the unfathomable wealth and luxurious lifestyles of the nobility and gradually became more and more repulsed by the lack of compassion and decency within his society, and worst of all, his own family. Honour was a concept held in high regard in the Empire, but it was still just a concept, barely seen in daily life.


It started small, secretly giving more food to his family's slaves, showing kindness when he could and giving small amounts of money to the poor. One day, the Senator caught Ryce giving a piece of bread to a young slave boy. Fenrick was furious with Ryce for taking some of the households food to feed a lowly wretch. That night, one of his female slaves came to Ryce's room and said that the Senator had requested his presence in the parlour. Ryce went to meet his father, the woman went with him. His father was waiting with the terrified slave boy. Fenrick gave his son an ultimatum. Ryce was to either take a hammer to the boy's knees, crippling him, or kill the female slave. If Ryce refused to do either then his father would have his guards kill the woman and boy both, and reminded him that as Senator no-one would ever know of the murders. Ryce begged for his father to let them go unharmed, but he would not hear it. Seeing that he had no choice but to comply, he picked up the hammer, knowing that at least the woman's death would be quick, but to cripple the boy would be an agonising and drawn out death sentence, for a slave that cannot work is a slave that will not be fed. With humiliation and shame burning upon his face, he swung the hammer at the woman's bowed head, she fell to floor, spasmed and died. The slave boy rushed passed him, and clutched at the woman's body. The child cried out 'mother!' Realising the enormity of what he had just done, Ryce vowed revenge upon his father and, honour be damned, the Empire too for the treatment of their fellow man, and to secure freedom for as many slaves as he could.


Ryce began to form a plan. He made contact with a smuggler his father often used to bring rare liquor and food for his many lavish banquets. The smuggler, known as Behesh, agreed to transport him and the Kraydon's household slaves to the Alliance when he delivered goods for the Kradon's next soirée. In return, Ryce would steal from his father's vault and give Behesh enough credits for a new, powerful ship. Not satisfied with freeing these poor souls, Ryce decided to transmit recordings of his father's voice journal to all the noble families within range. The recordings contained a complete account of all the rumours spread by the his father of various noble family's indiscretions; affairs, children, illegal business dealings. Also included was a recording of the Senator confessing his secret belief that the Emperor was weak, impotent and utterly useless in ruling an Empire as great as this one. Releasing the journal would crush Fenrick's standing in society, a fall he would never recover from. He would be stripped of his fortune and position, potentially even forced to become a slave himself.


On the night his plan would become reality, Behesh showed up and Ryce began to sneak a few slaves at a time, starting with the young boy whose mother he had been forced to kill, to the smuggler's ship. There they were stored in cargo canisters fitted with life support. When the last of the slaves were hidden aboard the ship, Ryce grabbed as much money as he could from his father's vault, sent the recordings and entered a canister, just another soul seeking freedom from a wicked Empire. It went more smoothly than he could have imagined, revenge on his father and justice for these few slaves accomplished in one night, or so he thought.


Unknown to Ryce, Behesh had other plans. Instead of transporting them safely to Alliance space, Behesh took them to an Independent system outside of Alliance space. Before reaching the orbital station, he ejected a canister filled with slaves and demanded all the money Ryce had stolen or he wouldn't pick them back up and the cargo canister would hold their frozen corpses forever. Left with no other option, he handed over all the credits, a total sum of 50 million. The smuggler laughed as he pushed Ryce back into the canister and sealed it . Behesh then ejected the remaining canisters and fled with his ill-gotten gains.


As the cold took hold and the weeping of the despairing people grew quieter, Ryce felt a shaking and a thud emanate throughout their would-be tomb. The walls grew warmer and Ryce thought perhaps Behesh had a change of heart. The canister opened, revealing a solemn face behind an opaque mask. Their saviour, Commander Malokin Reynos, recounted how a "WANTED" Asp had dumped its cargo, not 3km from her silent running Viper and departed the system. The commander's morality won out over her need for the bounty on the Asp when she noticed what the canisters contained. She promised to transport them to the nearest orbital station in exchange for the story of how they ended up as space debris.


Malokin, or Mal, as she preferred to be called, insisted an old foreign word for bad was far more suitable for a bounty hunter than something that sounded like an exotic flower, allowed Ryce the unusual courtesy of a seat on the bridge as he told his tale. When he had finished, he noticed that Mal's dark complexion had turned a deep purple, while her knuckles went white with barely controlled fury. As it turned out, Mal's brother had sold himself into servitude in the Empire in order to outrun his mounting debt, only he hadn't been heard from in years and was suspected dead. Ryce flushed with anger and shame at the actions of his former home. He expected Mal to gun him down as he was one of those that benefitted from ownership of another human. Instead, she promised him help by giving him her first, and now unused, standard issue Sidewinder. Ryce was shocked to hear of her generosity, but Mal explained that she saw he had seen the error of his ways and freed as many as he realistically could.


When the Viper docked at the orbital station and the former slaves released to find work as free citizens, Ryce noticed that there were about twelve missing. Mal told him how one of the canisters had been destroyed by the Behesh as he flew into it during his departure. Ryce fell to his knees and wept, thirty-five former slaves rescued to find a better life, but the young boy, that had already lost so much, was not among them.


Mal advised Ryce that he could no longer go by his given name, as he would soon be labelled a traitor to the Empire and would have a bounty on his head. While she usually hunted fugitives from the law, in this case she'd make an exception. Ryce Kraydon discarded his name as he had discarded his home, and sought inspiration from the Earth-that-was for a new one. A bird of prey. The fastest creature to ever exist. Cold. Unrelenting. Death in the skies. He was now Falcon. And with his new name there was a new focus for his hatred, a new quest for revenge, a new name forever burnt into his mind. Behesh.

Falcon would find his prey, and he would kill him.

 

[Loetmichel]

Hi!

I was found back in early 3299 drifitng in space , nearly as cold as the universe background
after what was describet to me as a "interdimensional Rift in the spacetime-continoum".
After i was brought in by Fed scientists they recharged my Power cell and booted me up,
my memory was completely wiped exept the name "Loetmichel". So thats what i call myself
now. As You may have guessed by now: I am a Cybernetic Organism, you could say an "AI"
of some sort.

After some testing and probing by the fed scinetists they decided that i was no threat
and being "somewhat" selfaware they decided to let me go free roaming about.
They even gave me a sidewinder and some 1000 credits to try and make "a living".

So thats my story. Whats yours?