ROLEPLAYING - Introduce your Commander

[luksm23]

Things have been somewhat hectic of late. I have been stalked across 200 light years by members of the Alliance 7th Quick Reaction Fleet and, I think (I would assume...surely) the Alliance Intelligence aparatus. They caught up with me when I thought it was safe and far enough to stop running at the Huma system, back in Imperial space. I was wrong. They pulled me out of Frameshift and jumped me. Three ships against my Cobra mk III. One of which was an Anaconda. The Alliance really wanted me dead. I guess I can't blame them. Let me explain.

I was not born in the Sol System. I was born in Imperial space, in the system that is now firmly under Senator and Admiral Denton Patreous' control, Donmoth. I grew up on the second planet from the sun, an agri world, and I went to college at Dester Ring. To pay for my student loans (and to garuntee that my medical school tuition would be paid for) I joined the Imperial Navy at the age of Twenty Two. Believe it or not I did a short tour on an Imperial Clipper, the Augustin. While I did not enjoy space life, my superiors noted my inteligence and decided I would be best suited station or planet side, working as an Analyst for the Imperial Naval Intelligence arm. That is how I served 3 of 4 years of my enlistment. I went through Basic training, of course, and then Advanced Placement Training, and then a secret program that I cannot reveal much detail about, suffice it to say I was taught tradecraft. When I was done, and attending medical schoolat the Prestigious New Little Rock Medical Campus on Earth's one Moon, I had thought that my time in the Imperial Navy was Through. But I was so wrong. They had entrusted secrets with me, and there was never a part of my education or my carreer that I did not feel my handler's eyes watching me from somewhere. For the most part he left me alone and was content just to keep an eye on me. He only made contact to relay official orders or news and this was rare. My honnor was brought into question at first when I refused to go along with this strange man's seemingly benign requests (info on this or that person in the form of medical records that I had access too, mainly) and for a time, during my Senior Residency on Earth, my Handler made it perfectly clear that I would do as I was told, lest I find myself working not as a licensed Slave, but one of the...other...kind. He had taken me to an underground slave trade summit on Mars to drive home the point. The conditions were terrible. The point was well taken. I would do as I was told. For the Empire, and the Emperor, of course. T
Things went smoothly right up until three years ago, when I murdered my wife and my Scraff-Ball buddy. I don't remember much of the actual act of killing them, but I do remember that he was naked...in my bed...with my wife..and he had my gun. Pointed at me. I was threatened. I reverted to my psych training and talked him into putting the gun down, and...apparently I picked it up and shot both of them. I don't feel bad about Ed. To hell with him. But Christina...she haunts me. It was not her fault. She did not deserve to die. But neither did I. And I was bound and determined to survive the mess that I made for myself. I cleaned the up the scene as best I could and then went to a bar to calm down and determine how I would contact my handler. He would have to know. Surely he wouldn't turn me in. But how would I contact him? He had always contacted me. I didn't even know his name! Luckily for me he showed up...just sat right down at the bar next to me, ordered a drink, and began talking softly. He said he would delay and confuse the authorties as much as he could, and then he would send them off my trail, but I had to leave system. He gave me 50,000 credits, the directions to a hanger at the Lunar Starport, and told me that I would be contacted with instructions. He also said I should head towards Gateway. So that is what I did, and thus my carreer as a smuggler/merchant/cleaner/explorer began. I signed up with the Alliance fleet (as per instructions, of course) and began my life as a spy for Senator Patraeus. Sometimes I was ordered to take certain contracts....More slave, guns, and drug runs than I would care to admit, but, I reasoned, it was for the Empire. I assumed, (Correctly) that these missions and cargos were arranged so slightly destablize whichever systems that were affected. As much as a load of slaves, guns and drugs can in a system that outlaws all three (as it turns out...they can destablize things quite well) Things were going smoothly, again, and I should have been ready for it this time. When Things go smooth in my life that is when things take a turn for the absurd. By chance a local member of the Gateway Gazzette Press found out that I had been running slaves right into Gateway, under the authorties noses, using my fleet pass to put the local cops at ease when I breezed through, thus ensuring no pesky scans. She got in under my radar...got me drunk, sexed me up, got me talking. Damnit I knew better than to run my mouth. I KNEW better....but...it had been so long since I had felt a woman's touch and, frankly, it had been so long since I really talked to anybody at all...I wanted to talk...and let me tell you..she was a pro (at discreetly leading a conversation to what she wanted and this thing she could do with her tongue) . Yep. The old Honey Pot. I know, I know. The oldest Trick in the Tradecraft book. So when she broke the story I had some questions to answer...I was called into to an Admiralty review pannel...I was actually supposed to be debriefed by a couple of the Alliance fleet admirals...they took it so serioiusly..and why not? The story traced me back all the way to my Imperial upbringing...something I could have sworn I did not tell her...but maybe I did...or maybe she just did her homework. At any rate, I knew at the end of the proceedings I was going to be formerly charged with Treason and thrown in the slam, so...When the Alliance Eagles showed up to escort my Cobra "Christina's Pristina" to the fleet berth...Well..I did what I had to do. I greased them both and then got the hell out of there, thank god I had a full tank. I imagine they were Angry that I attacked and destroyed two of their Eagles. I know that one of the pilots was killed...saw the blast rip through his cockpit when his reactor went crit...As a doctor, generally speaking, you are not supposed to do any harm. Who am I kidding? I quit being a doctor the moment I pulled the trigger back on Earth. Anyway, so..I made it back to Imperial space and I did manage to slip that Ambush at Huma. They have been following me, ghosting my trail, but...I'm officially signed back up with Imperial Naval Intelligence as an Outisider, a Civillian (for now) Consultant. I would really enjoy staying a consultant...I don't want to be drafted, but...INS doesn't want to give me up. All the training I guess, plus my new handler keeps mentioning my debt is even larger now since I goofed up back at Gateway....Maybe I should start my own business....A Private Security Firm...No no...A Private Detective Agency...heh. I like the sound of that...Dr. Maxwell Shradre, Imperial Detective. A detective can do all sorts of things that a Private Security Firm just can't. Yeah...Now I just need partners...I will call it the Imperial Detective Agency, the IDA...though I will still be a civillian..at least for now.

OOC: IF ANYONE IS INTERESTED IN MAKING A BUSINESS WITH ME, EITHER THE IDA, OR SOMETHING ELSE, MY NAME IS Commander DrShradre and I am currently tooling around Bang and Jedes and Natyala in Denton Patraous space. Msg me here, or my email, luksm23@yahoo.com

 

[tdan]

The name's Xel. At least, it is now. I grew up in Federation space, the son of corporate-slave parents and brother to a girl oblivious to the robotic life lined up for her. I, too, was set on tracks to this dull life of business, blind to the real freedoms life could offer me and accepting to be confined to one building for the rest of my life. What changed? Well, what really changes the life of any teenage boy?

She came into my life when I had no one else - my few friends had drifted, I'd distanced myself from my dysfunctional family and depression had hit its peak. We became best friends almost immediately upon meeting, falling for each other not long after. For about a year we stayed together but, she being older than me, had life plans that were essentially being held back by me; upon my finally turning 18, we had planned to move on together, away from our home planet and our past lives. But I couldn't. Growing up in an emotionally abusive household makes you feel obligated to the abusers, and in this fashion I could not bring myself to leave my parents - despite despising them and my life with them. And so my first love left me behind.

About 18 months passed until I heard of something phenomenal: The Elite Program, a Federal Navy run initiative to promote the youth in living life amongst the stars, apparently to help politics, economics and trade as well as human exploration prosper in the early 33rd Century. It was announced on the 15th of June 3001 to come to my home system, LHHS 3447. I signed up immediately. Scraping up what funds I could (being a student having to do this subtly from the prying eyes of parents, my cash was limited, ending up with a measly 1000 credits to my name), I prepared to embark on a new life.

The day finally came, October the 4th, when I, along with a number of my fellow starbound younglings, were finally granted our pilots license and loaned a simple Sidewinder. Escorted to Trevithick Dock, I at long last took seat in the cockpit of what was now my very own spacecraft. Looking towards the mail-slot exit of the station, I felt that I had finally broken free from the corporate clutches of the life my parents had planned for me. I gazed longingly at the infinite black, dotted with small specks of light I was determined to see. I thought of my old love, and I smiled; as if a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders, I realised she was not what I had longed for the last 2 years since she left - I had longed for freedom. Freedom which I now had.

Since then I have traversed many star systems, made allies and friends, and found a new, temporary home in the Purunsi system. I now fly a mostly upgraded Cobra Mk III, doing simple trade runs, freelance missions and occasionally assisting the security services in eliminating wanted pilots. My current goal is to visit Sol, the birthplace of humanity, but unfortunately that involves cozying up with the Feds. Afterwards, I hope to find a home in Alliance space - the only faction whose politics I can agree with.

[This is based on a series of fanfiction I've been writing about my pilot which I have (not very) loosely based upon myself. The dates used all correlate with irl events i.e. 15th of June 2015 Elite was announced for Xbox One (me being an Xbox player), and October 4th being its final, full release date. In regards to my "Federal Navy run initiative," I based that off of Zachary Hudson's speech on Mars which he gave on June 13 3001, which can be found on Galnet, where he states:
"Our youth has become flabby. Lying inanimate, plugged into their sims hour after hour, day after day, living in dream worlds that never existed and will never exist. They need to take part in the real world, and so we will be creating programs to allow them to do just that. Programmes that will excite them, engage them, train them. We will fund these programmes in full, the first of which will be announced to Congress on Tuesday 16th" (this perfectly coincides with the Xbox version of Elite's announcement, leading me to believe it was no coincidence and thus perfect basis for this story arc).]

 

[Amus]

CMDR Amus Goodfellow: Like most pilots, scrambled up from one of those stock vintage sidewinders they give to all new pilots like so many handfuls of candy-corn at Halloween... After much finagling, haggling, a bit of blasting and more than a fair share of ... shall we say not entirely completely 75% legal business ventures that may or may not have resulted in some otherwise, truly outrageous and unanimously considered 'fun' parties, he managed to wriggle his way into an imperial Clipper. The salesman only managed to discern one audible word, through out the entire course of the transaction: "shiny!"
An attempt on deep space was made to reach the Lagoon Nebula in said Clipper, however with only his manservant Concord for company, the voyage was abandoned after about a week. A miscalculation in the overall consumption rate of rum may or may not have also had a determining factor on the decision to turn back early. Whilst pondering the next venture at a pub called Uncle Sam's on a fringe mining colony, he ran into an old acquaintance who, according to accounts issued a largely unclarified dare (specifics of the original proposal are conflicting at best) What is known for certain is that about a week later, the Clipper registered to Amus Goodfellow was sold in a yard, in Imperial space and an Orca class liner was leased to a commander by the same name, whom had it outfitted with a-class engines and a fuel-scoop. The Orca was christened the "Simpleton". The "Simpleton" was advertised as "The modern Adventure Tour liner of tomorrow, today!" and while the staff included many scientists, researchers and surveyors eager to join an expedition that didn't mean cramming into an Asp for 6 months, the passenger manifest included a 'lively' cross-section of upper-middle class hobby-adventure seekers eager for that one vacation that will finally upstage the Jonses... there was a bit of consternation, however, when they realized that the Jonses were already aboard. All that taken into consideration and with over 90 tons of stowage available, fully capable food processing and recycling capacity aboard (including a spare still for redundancy) all hands are confident that the expedition will be a success this time around... certain unnamed investors are taking odds 4-to-1 against. Uncle Sam is hoping there's enough left over to pay the $6000 tab.
~Cheers!

 

[Cmdr Black]

[Fragment of ancient U.S. Military Dossier Circa 2049]
Name: [REDACTED] DOB: [REDACTED]
Service Number: 2316663
Service Record
Battle of New York 2034: 102 confirmed kills
Liberation of England 2036: 146 confirmed kills
Normandy Landing 2037: 212 confirmed kills, 341 unconfirmed kills
Battle of Paris 2037: 95 confirmed kills
Siege of Berlin 2037: 360 confirmed kills
Siege of St. Petersburg 2038: 413 confirmed kills
Battle of Moscow: 2042: 449 confirmed kills, Medal of Honor awarded posthumously (Body recovered intact)

2043: [REDACTED] approved for Project Lazarus. Augmentation procedure applied to organs and musculoskeletal system. No rejection issues. Operation HIGHJUMP artifact successfully installed into cranial mass. Subject reanimated at 0330HRS 07/02/2043. Issued callsign BLACK

2044: January: BLACK deployed to mitigate enemy resistance in Moscow Occipied Zone. Operation successful
March: BLACK deployed to U.N. Orbital Platform "Hope" to mitigate enemy holdouts. Holdouts eliminated.
2052: BLACK AWOL. Kill on sight.
[End Fragment]

[Data fragment of passenger manifest circa 2239]
No. of passengers: 1
Name: Jonathan Black
Age: 25
DOB: 06/16/2214 [RECORD UNVERIFIABLE]
From: Earth, North American Zone
To: Tau Ceti Colonial Settlement
[End fragment]

Pilot Federation License Application (NOV 3301)
Name: Jon Black
Age: 25
DOB: 6/16/3276
Current Location: Trevithick Dock, LHS 3447
Pilots Aptitude Test: Status: PASSED
Application Status: APPROVED

 

[Cmdr Delmonte[VR]]

The OGC

Self-professed Orange Grove Consortium (OGC)
With the orange grove income squandered on an outrageous Anaconda Commanders Outspan and Delmonte sought solitude among the stars.
Happy in their own company and too anti-social for social media they wondered without issue to Sagittarius A* amongst the first 100 to do so. They ran Rare’s routes for credits and pottered around the back waters of the galaxy beholden to know one.
The only anchor on this merry journey was pledging to the Princess fair Asiling Duval, down with slavery and up with Fancy green prismatic shields! This relationship with what is claimed to be a civilised world soon soured as week after week merits went astray at the great intergalactic FD Server farm making a mockery of their efforts to help reform the galaxy one slave at a time.
Once again cast adrift throughout known space until…….
“UA sighted commander” .
“Sorry a what???” …
“Unknown Artefact floating in space, Should we bring it aboard for a squeeze to see what happens?”
Squeezing things being in the very essence of the family tree.
So began a new tail, a home in Varti with multiple ships dedicated for different roles. Working with others towards common goals and an invitation to the esteemed council of the “CANONN”
(Yes apparently the spelling changed sometime 2097)
The end…… For now 

 

[CMD_B34R]

epic... now i feel so insufficient with out an RPG back story...

 

[Lance Corrimal]

Hi,

my name's Lance. Lance Corrimal.
I was born on June 9, 3292 in a small place called Ahern back on Vita Secundus, back before the great purge. Before going into deep space I was flying an Ananke Nightshade Mk. IX Orbital Freighter for fun and no profit. The ship has by now been mothballed near my little habitat on the dark side of a small asteroid somewhere in an asteroid belt near Secundus. Not going to tell you the exact location, the ship's a collectors item by now XD.

You can see the ship through the window of the hab module:
At the base by Lance Corrimal, on Flickr

Now I'm exploring the deep dark unknown, trying to see the wonders of the galaxy for less than 30 Altair Dollars per day.

Some of the more impressive sights from my travels might be found on flickr. Not all that many though, a long distance interstellar dataplan really chews up your wallet fast.

For the foreseeable future I'm out there all by myself, until I finally have a ship that is big enough to fly with a crew, which is when I'll dash back home, pick up my wife, and take her on an intergalactic cruise to see all those places out there that we all know and love from science fiction

 

[Manticore]

Name: Cmdr Pingmonster
Race/Species: Human/Homo Sapien
Gender: Male
Age: Indeterminate (Based on medical records physical age of approximately 33)
Place of Birth: Unknown
Home System: Cubeo
Occupation: Explorer / Salvager / Privateer/ Smuggler



Fleet:

Imperial Eagle Medusa
Type 6 Transporters Irene and Gladys
Viper Mk IV Baby
Cobra Mk III Mithra
Diamondback Explorer Star Dancer
Type 7 Transporter Doris
Keelback Amazon
Viper Mk III Phaedra

 

[Eliyahu]

Name: Eliyahu ben Natan (אליהו בן נתן)
Gender: Male
Height: 1,63 m
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Black
Date of Birth: 03.01.3278
Place of Birth: Hakatan Village, Eravate 5
Occupation: Trader
Biography: The son of grain merchants on Eravate 5, Eliyahu grew up traveling with his father and mother back and forth between their little village and Ackerman Market overhead and going to the village's little shul on Saturday mornings. His great dream was always to be a pilot, to travel between the stars and see those things which, even in this age of frequent space travel, so few still get to see. He was certainly pleased when his father Natan paid for him to take courses to receive a pilot's license and helped him get his first Sidewinder. Now, he travels mostly in the systems around Eravate running missions for minor factions and transporting cargo in his Hauler, but his dream is to someday travel outside the bubble and be like the famous commanders who do things like bring meta alloys to Jacques Station.

 

[IndigoWyrd]

Just call me Indigo, everyone does. Not much tell, really. I inherited this old POS spacecraft from an uncle I didn't even know I had. Patched it up, threw on a fresh coat of paint, and imagine my surprise when it actually worked! I figured, there's money to be made out in space, so I set off to find my fortune in the stars. Well, not so much in the stars themselves - you get too close to one of those and you'll burn to a crisp, but rather in necessities and niceities of life. I'm talking freight here. I could only fit so much in the little ship I'd inherited, and it didn't take that long for the first few credits I'd made to burn a hole in my pocket. Still have that old ship, stored away not unlike the way it came to me, sitting in some space dock, gathering dust and something like spiders, only harder to kill.
Keep your eyes open and your interdictors to yourself, and our paths just might cross out in the great beyond.

 

[Stryker Aune]

-Note from the player-
Hello community, I'm not new to the role-playing community, but I am to forums, and storytelling in general. I'm not a writer by trade, but I feel in this particular season of life, I need to do something on the creative side and have felt a pull to writing. I have a deep rooted love for space, and sci-fi in general and Elite has provided an amazing sense of immersion to the harsh realities of space in all of its vast glory. I believe that his alone will provide the inspiration to create stories around my commander to which I am both excited, and nervous to do. This is just the bare bones summary of my character and I plan on providing a more proper exposition within the role-play forums.

-Dossier-

CMDR Stryker Aune.
Name: Alvadr "Stryker" Aune
Sex:Male
Age: 27
Height: 6'3" (190.5 cm)
Weight: 320 lbs (145 kg, 22.9 stone)
Build: Bodybuilder's physique
Occupation: Gear Head (Untrained Engineer)
Place of Birth: Li Chong, Ostrander Works
Marital Status: Single
Political affiliation: Empire
Immediate Relatives:

• Father: Ahron Aune (Deceased)
• Mother: Ines Aune (Decesased)
• Twin Sister: Marta Ichikawa (Married to Hideki Ichikawa)

The basics:
Stryker, is a big dude. Standing at six foot, three inches and a dedicated bodybuilder has left him with quite the impressive physique and the intimidation that goes with it. His arms chest and back are covered in various tattoos. His head is cleanly shaved and sports a short neatly trimmed beard. His eyes are a deep blue. His hands are calloused and rough, both from the sport, and from his occupation. His love is of mechanics and enjoys working on, and improving existing systems. He has some innate intuitive knowledge of engineering, never having been formally trained. He often jokes that machines "just talk to him." He is a methodical thinker, contemplating each step of a task before carrying it out, which has lent to difficulties with fast paced action. He is the first to admit that close quarter combat is "not his thing." But he has a love for the stars. As a child he often envisioned escaping the dusty rock to which he was confined to and freely roam the vast expanse; which, due to some fortuitous circumstances he now has the freedom to do.

 

[Omgzzwtf]

Wanted by a minor faction for unknown reasons, my Commander starts out on the run, I'm not revealing too much information at the moment about his backstory, but I have written the first part of his adventures, and I'll post it in a new thread, please feel free to read it and comment with feedback, it's been a few years since I wrote anything.

 

[A200DollarDonut]

CMDR: AEDAHO
Ambassador Aedaho Hyras-Olymva
Allegiance:
Federation
Occupation:
Federal Ambassador and Negotiator
DoB:
July 8th 3175.
Birth Location:
Unknown
Personality:
Kind, Thoughtful, Wise, Negotiable, Peaceful and Powerful.
Physicality:
6ft'5 (195.58cm), 13st 7lbs (85.72kg), Toned (not fat, skinny or bulky, in the middle)
Family/Relationships:
Parents:
Mother - Julia Hyras (MISSING)
Father - Allani Olymva (MISSING)
Brothers/Sisters:
Sister - Amila Hyras-Olymva (Fleet Captain - Imperial)
Brother - Brahdi Hyras-Olymva (DEAD)
Lovers:
Fiance - Lyrah Shivarle (Federal Trade Manager)
Lore:
"The planet I grew up on was strange, the people there like me all had to wear masks from the harmful toxins and chemicals in the atmosphere, when I was born, I was exposed to the harsh gases and my lungs were damaged because of it, leaving them to be highly sensitive. Which is one of the reasons I wear the mask. Its just one of the fractures that make up this broken man you see before you..." - Aedaho Hyras-Olymva.
Due to his lung problem he was not allowed to join the Federation for a long period of time, the mask also made identification harder for him. Although he was toned, mentally sound and already got a pilots license in his home system.
Once finally accepted as a courier for the Federation, the Federal officer that was monitoring him noticed he excelled in combat with sharp maneuvers and precise attacks and moved Aedaho from his Type-7 and into a Federal Assault ship and watched as he tore pirates and privateers down in his wing known as Anubis which had Aedaho, Mythal and Uri. Over time the pirates became increasingly aggravated over the Anubis team and banded together a huge assault to bring them down.
47 Pirate ships, ranging in Vipers, Cobras, Anacondas, Pythons and Eagles attacked in there large wings surrounding the Anubis team and ordered them to surrender or die. Aedaho quickly sectioned the wing members into attack positions dividing the team of 3 to attack the highlighted enemies, Aedaho and his team were good but 47 v 3 dose not offer a good chance of survival, so Aedaho hastily called reinforcements but only an Anaconda and Gunship showed up to the fight, both the pilots were close friends with Aedaho at the academy and were happy to aid him. The pirates moved in synchronization and easily destroyed the first target... Uri. The numbers thinned on both sides as Mythal was destroyed and Aedahos friend Jeremiah was incapacitated leaving his ship drifting in space. Aedaho, filled with a raging inferno where only anger remained in him, lost control and gunned down the remaining pirates Aedahos other close friend approached him and picked him up as his ship was on its last legs and left the graveyard of pirates and the former Anubis wing. Aedaho's close friend turned out to be Lyrah Shivarle, Aedahos first known lover who stuck with him during the dark years that oppressed him. He'd lost his ship, his friends and had nothing to live for until, on the verge of taking his own life, came to a sudden realization and became an Ambassador for the Federation in an attempt to make galactic peace and prosperity. He had also built himself a flagship and called it Anubis in memory of his friends and the fight he lost almost everything.

Those were his intentions but as time moved on, he became a closer ally of the 'oppressive' president Zachary Hudson and thus became more concentrated on control although he does respect others a lot more and will not instantly jump to the conclusion of war.

 

[Yanick]

CMDR Yanick

Name: Eon Yanick (formerly Borman Yanick)
Sex: Male
Age: 122 (appearance of a man in his 30s by 21st century eyes)
Place of birth: Merlin, Ross 154
Occupation:Explorer

 

[Jazzy]

Cmdr Jazzy 'Pickle' Rose

Cmdr Jazzy 'Pickle' Rose at your service,

• I be one of the youngest Officers of the Imperial Navy, at the age of 3, I was already at the ability of a 30 year old. Given my abilities in ship command strategies, I was given command of a Exploration fitted Anaconda. (My Cmdr is named after my Daughter who is 3 and is always on my knee when I play, she is more addicted to Elite than I am).
• Commanding officer of "The Lady Jane". Deep Space Exploration/Search & Rescue Anaconda.
• Currently exploring the local regions are Jaques Station for possible civilian settlement.
• "The Lady Jane" is always at the ready to bring assistance to any Cmdr in-need no matter where they are located in the galaxy, We will get to you and save your sorry ***!, Even those Federation wannabe's....

I hope to meet many more Cmdr's out in the void, hopefully on friendly terms. But if the push comes to shove, I am always at the ready to defend myself. Many Federal dog's have fallen to my combat ability, and hopefully many more in the impending hostilities to come. Empire will reign supreme in the galaxy!

Fly safe Imperial Cmdr's and may the Black Holes drag your souls to hell Federation scum!

 

[Diomedian]

CMDR Diomedian, here! Although I have been steadily playing Elite Dangerous since early 2015, I only recently began to become more involved in its community. Anyway, below is my bio:


Diomedian was born in Boone Harbor on 16 July 3271, to parents who had originally immigrated to Mars from the Hellenic Republic; indeed, her ancestry is rumored to stretch back to the ancient city of Argos, and to the son of Tydeus himself. As such, she was raised to keenly appreciate the language- and value-systems of Homeric epic—a cultural richness that was in stark and welcome contrast to her family's financial poverty.

As Diomedian entered adolescence, she began to demonstrate an aptitude for handling small, maneuverable vessels—originally by sailing Laser 2s on the Oceanus Borealis, and subsequently by flying Pyro GXs for the Post-Terran Mining Corporation. Much to her parents' delight, this led to a lucrative career as a test pilot for Kuat Systems Engineering—tragically cut short when, due to catastrophic instrumentation failure, she inadvertently caused the complete destruction of a CR90 Corvette. Shaken by the experience, and in need of a new profession, she returned to her childhood love of language.

In 3292, Diomedian applied for formal education in linguistics, pursuing research in the syntactic differences between official- and minority-language groups throughout Sol. Unfortunately, with the financial crisis of 3293–94, gainful employment in academia became increasingly difficult to find, and she eventually reached the conclusion that—in order to make ends meet—she would need to fall back on her flight experience.

On 3 March 3301, Diomedian's Pilots Federation License was reinstated, and she quickly found work at several stations within Hudson-controlled systems—most notably, Trevithick Dock in LHS 3447, and Wohler Terminal in Kremainn. However, the rising militarization of Federal space—despite the efforts of Felicia Winters—prompted Diomedian to seek a political landscape that was better aligned with her personal values and ideals.

She believes to have found such in the form of Aisling Duval, and has recently relocated to Juan de la Cierva Orbital in Ceronir. Today, she contributes to Duval's cause through a variety of roles: explorer, courier, and—on occasion—mercenary. However, Diomedian's continued conviction is that an exchange of information—rather than an exchange of ammunition—will prove the key to peace among the Powers.

 

[Iaened Bourne]

Name: Iaened Bourne
Pronunciation: [aɪ-nɪd bɔːrn]
Gender: Male
Age: 21
Date of Birth: 28/03/3286
Place of Birth: Earth, Sol

Parents:
Mother - Kaliyah Bourne [Deceased]
Father - Leroy Bourne [Deceased]
Marital Status: Single
Children: None

Skin Colour: White
Height: 177cm
Weight: 83kg
Build: Broad and Muscular
Hair Colour: Chestnut
Eye Colour: Hazel
Facial Hair: Groomed
Scars:
- Cut on back of left hand
Tattoos: None

Wardrobe:
- Light Green T-Shirt
- Dark Brown Cargo Trousers
- Dark Brown Material Trenchcoat
Accessories:
- Black Leather Fingerless Gloves
- Holographic Watch
- Stainless Steel Chain Neckless
- Aisling Duval Emblem

Accent:
- Varies [Usually Imperial]

Faction: Empire
Patron: HIH Princess Aisling Duval

Imperial Social Rank: Earl
Federation Navy Rank: Rear Admiral

Organisation: Aisling Duval Foundation
Position: CEO/Imperial Diplomat

Personality:
Iaened Bourne is a fairly typical Imperial in that he is fond of law and order, with a taste for luxury. Whilst he tries to avoid physical confrontation wherever possible, he won't back out of a fight should it be the most efficient way of resolving an issue. He does not suffer fools, and is fiercely loyal of Princess Aisling, his patron. Iaened loves his Princess, his ship, and flying in the cold, dark vacuum of space: in that order.

Personal Goals:
- Serve and Protect Princess Aisling
(- Buy, and fully kit out, an Imperial Cutter)

History:
Iaened Bourne was born to two Federal Navy Officers, Lt. Commander Leroy Bourne and his wife, Captain Kaliyah Bourne. Both met during their service to the Federation, at one of the Admiral's christmas parties, and immediately hit it off. It wasn't until Leroy was attending a briefing on a Federal Navy Intelligence operation, several years after marrying Kaliyah, that he found out exactly what his wife did: she was in charge of the operation!

Following in his parent's footsteps, Iaened joined the Federal Navy Officer's Academy, and graduated in the top percentage of his class, excelling in the Ship Command portions of the final exam, causing his instructors to peg him as a future Capital ship commander. Due to his mother's service, Iaened was approached by the Intelligence branch and recruited and trained as an undercover operative for a very specific assignment, with the promise of a fast track to a ship command of his own as a reward. At the age of 20, after training for several months, Iaened was sent on his special assignment, ending up in Imperial controlled space with the goal of tipping the vote for Emperor in Princess Aisling Duval's favour. The view from the Federal Navy was that the Princess would be the easiest to manipulate, and that a younger operative would be able to earn her trust more easily.

After establishing himself within Princess Aisling's political organisation over a period of several months, both Iaened's mother and father were arrested and executed on trumped up charges of treason during an internal, and heavily hushed up, Federal Navy power struggle. Upon finding out, through one of his contacts, Iaened became distraught, seeking the comfort of the only person he could turn to: Princess Aisling herself.
Believing the Federal Government to be responsible for the deaths of his parents, and that he, himself, was a target, Iaened confessed everything to the Princess, who, in turn, admitted that she had known all along that he was a Federal Agent but had said nothing as he was helping her cause. Iaened realised in this moment that the Federation severely underestimated the Princess, and grew a newfound respect for the Princess. He pledged himself to her service to atone for his subterfuge, which the Princess accepted without hesitation.

Over the next year, Aisling and Iaened worked together on her claim to the throne, as well as feeding the Federation false information. The Princess also promised to investigate his parent's deaths using her own contacts. The pair quickly became almost inseparable, with Iaened insisting that he do whatever he could to repay Aisling for her kindness, and the Princess more than happy to have someone close to her age around that she could trust fully. It was during this time that Iaened earned the scar on the back of his hand saving the Princess from a knife wielding attacker, stepping in between Aisling and the blade whilst using his hand to stop the blow. Being the closest the young Princess had ever been to an actual attempt on her life, Aisling shut herself away in her bedroom, refusing all but Iaened entry to her room; eventually crying herself to sleep in his arms.

By this time, Iaened had established himself as a strong member of Imperial society in his own right, and saving the life of the Princess earned him a rise in social standing, despite the attempted assassination going intentionally unreported by GalNet. Despite his new standing and personal friendship with Aisling, the young man, four years the Princess's junior, did not feel comfortable admitting his romantic feelings for the Princess - he believed that it was simply not possible for a relationship with Imperial Royalty to ever work. As such, Iaened begun to start distancing himself from the Princess's affairs: an act that did not go unnoticed by the Princess, though she initially stayed quiet.

After the coronation of her aunt, the now Emperor Arissa Lavigny-Duval, the Princess summoned Iaened to her private residence. Iaened had begun working up the courage to admit his feelings, expecting to be dismissed from his service to Aisling, being unable to live with keeping a secret from a woman he had fallen completely and utterly in love with. As such, when he entered the Duval residence's interior, the now 21 year old was taken completely off-guard by the full on lips kiss given to him by the resident's only occupant: Princess Aisling. That kiss started a very private relationship between the pair that has been kept completely out of the general public's view, earning the Princess a reputation for being a bit of an ice queen in shunning advances from potential suitors.

More recently, Princess Aisling called on Iaened to create a Foundation that would support both victims of Imperial Slavery and narcotics addictions: thus, the Aisling Duval Foundation was created.

Motto: ​By Imperial Appointment

 

[Jellicoe]

Name's Jellicoe, Stannis Jellicoe, born on Earth into a fairly wealthy family and was meant to go into the navy but got myself kicked out of the academy for punching an instructor and went freelance. Started in a Sidewinder like everyone else, traded, fought and bled my way up and a year and a half later I'm a double billionaire. I fight for the Federation and myself done a lot of dirty work for the President in my time and hunted pirates right across the bubble.

 

[Gavca]

It was the recent discovery of the Thargoid ship-wreck that changed things for me.

I literally grew up in the cockpit of my dad's old Cobra. It was in the days when space was virtually unknown territory for humans. Sure, we had just discovered how to harness energy from stars, but the other races had done that long long ago. Occasionally we would run into problems with unknown entities, but generally, dad knew his trading routes pretty well, and could usually hyper-jump into a different galaxy if any trouble was brewing. The cost of a Galatic Hyperdrive was high, and I remember dad always trying to haggle down the price. But they were vital for our way of life. Dad wasn't a skilled combat pilot, though he could handle himself. He always taught me to flee first. He said that attitude was why we were still alive.

Then things changed.

My memory is a little hazy about the events; it all happened so quickly. At least that is how I perceived it. Dad and I had come back from one of our trading routes and had been fully loaded with agricultural goods. As we went through the station slot, the rear of the ship just clipped the edge of the slot. It had done no damage at all to the station, but the Cobra had a section of rear lighting out. I think it was the weight of the cargo that was pushing the rear of the ship down. Anyway, I got out to initiate the protocol with the station for trading and dad went to get replacement lights for the ship. Of course, we were at a station that was not particularly well stocked with anything other than food or grain. Dad said that while I did the trading, he would make a quick jump to the next system, pick up the part, and be back before I had finished my business.

That was the last time I saw him.

A few minutes later, a pilot came up and spoke to me. I had never seen him before, but he was human. He said, " Your dad has been interdicted in witchspace by a Thargoid ship. The Thargoid deployed some kind of "bug" into the frame shift processor, that seems to be causing your dad to become trapped in a looping cycle of witchspace. As Thargoids are still an unknown entity to humans, in the interest of promoting a bigger presence of humans in space, it is likely that this event will be covered up by the humans involved in the Stellar Expansion programme. The last human to be caught in witchspace was publicly denied by the authorities." He gave me a physical copy of the distress signal sent by my dad's ship. He seemed to be in a hurry and never gave me his name. But I saw from his suit that his name was embellished onto the material. It said 'Jamieson'.

It turned out to be true. My dad never came back for me. I was taken to a system far from there and was given a place to stay. I educated myself on Economics and have made a decent living for the past twenty years by studying system trends and selling advice to traders and investors.

Then the recent Thargoid discovery story broke.

I was approached by an older version of the man who told me about my dad. He said that they had been researching the Thargoid race and had made some discoveries in the last twenty years. He said that Thargons were discovered. Thargons are little, spider like ships that are released from the mother Thargoid ship as it nears its end. Like a defence thing. Dozens of small, Thargoid type ships are released and head straight towards the target. They are weak and easy to kill off, but in the time it takes for you to deal with them, the main Thargoid ship is back online, and ready to attack again. He said that the first time Thargons were recorded was recently, as no one had the technology to actually damage a Thargoid ship until then. In the old days, a Military Grade laser was the best humans could do, and it always overheated when engaged in a Thargoid battle. But times have changed and humans have progressed.

Then he told me about my dad. He said that for over twenty years, he has been stuck in this 'witchspace loop'. He can do nothing to help himself escape. The interesting part is that because he is stuck in this loop, it means that he is stuck moving at the speed of light. Time ceases to exist at that speed, so the belief is that my dad has not aged a minute from when he was first caught in the loop. He said that all of this is new to us, but not new to other races who have been exploiting space for years. As such, the human section of the Galaxy lags far behind other races. This is especially so in the area of Science. Since the frame shift drives compresses space - and does not propel ships or humans at the speed of light - any direct experience that we have of physically moving at the speed of light is untested. We know it is possible, as other races do it, but for now, we have to move the space in front of us rather than move ourselves. Clearly, the Thargoids have an advanced understanding regarding the speed of light and have been able to master it and perhaps even bend it to their will.

So it seems that my dad is still out there, in his old Cobra, stuck in a time loop instigated by a Thargoid ship.

I have been given a new ship and some CR by my dad's friend. He said that he has the ability to monitor my progress and has the authority to investigate this recent Thargoid ship-wreck discovery. I have a feeling that I am being used to further someone else's agenda. But the temptation is just too much.

I've got to at least try and find him. This latest discovery could be my way in.

 

[Darth_Angelus]

Name: Commander Angelus
Gender: Male
Homeworld: Hope (Gateway System)
Born: 3229
Commander Profile: http://www.rprepository.com/c/commanderangelus/7058

BIO: Commander Angelus grew up on the planet Hope in the Gateway system. Not content to stay on one world, he followed in his father's footsteps, acquiring an old Saker MK3 Fighter and headed off into space, first winning the Wiccan Ware Race which gave him enough money to further fund his exploits.

After making his fortune through legally questionable methods, he eventually retired to the Wisoff Settlement in backwater system of Nangkand.

In mid 3300, his father's old Eagle fighter was found drifting in space. It wasn't until December that Commander Angelus was tracked down as the next of kin. With no idea what had become of his father, he took to space once more to uncover the mystery.

OOC Note: When I played Frontier Elite 2 and First Encounters as a kid, I'd make up stories about the characters I was playing. It got to the point where my First Encounters commander was the son of my Elite 2 character. I thought it would be fun to say my ED character is the same one I played in First Encounters, older now and coming out of retirement.

I've been keeping his profile on the RP Repository and since I got back into the game recently, have been updating his journal with his adventures and thoughts on what's going on in the galaxy.