ROLEPLAYING - Introduce your Commander

Call me Ishmael.

Actually, I'd really rather you didn't call me that. Seriously. It's a name from my past that I'm not entirely fond of remembering. Just "Commander Sapyx" will be fine.

I'm from Peter's Eden. Yes, that Peter's Eden. Last I checked, there's still only one planet in the galaxy called that. In the Arexack system.

Arexack.

Everyone's heard the story of Arexack by now, surely. But in case you haven't, a quick rundown. A terraforming project that was abandoned some centuries earlier, the planet was re-colonized in 3061 by followers of an obscure religion, the Church of KumByar, fleeing from persecution on whatever communist-dictatorship planet they'd first found themselves on. The society completed the terraforming and progressed (or rather, not-progressed) in much the same fashion as other religious exclaves all over Human space have done, and the system would no doubt have remained in isolationist obscurity forever were it not for that fateful day in mid-3126.

Zack Blackbeam was a rich kid from the Old Worlds with nothing meaningful to spend his money on after he purchased a fleet of top-o-the-line ships. So, to take a break from the non-stop partying, he thought he'd play a prank on the simple folks of Peter's Eden. He bought a whole bunch of holographic projectors, pyrotechnics and whatnot, fitted them to his ship, set off for Arexack and, on arrival, staged a fake "Coming of KumByar". Since he wasn't actually KumByar, he couldn't actually deliver on KumByar's promise to lead the faithful into Paradise, so instead he told them they weren't allowed in because the community's leader, the Right Holy Ssord Rettu III, had a "displeasing shave". He then got back in his ship and took off, laughing. Little did he know the imminent repercussions of what he had just set off.

After lynching the unfortunate Ssord, the community promptly divided into two warring factions, violently and irreconcilably disagreeing on what exactly the "displeasing shave" meant. The Conservative faction believed that the shaving was incomplete and that no trace of hair must remain on their bodies. The Radical faction believed that shaving itself must be offensive to KumByar and that their entire bodies must therefore be covered with maximum hair. Word of the civil war got out, with traders bringing in weapons and supplies and mercenaries hiring themselves out to whichever faction paid the most. None of these foreigners, of course, had any interest in pointing out to the faction leaders that the whole thing was a terrible misunderstanding around a practical joke that had long ago ceased to be funny. Arexack became famous for being the only planet in the galaxy where everything was illegal to import except hair products and battle weapons.

My family came from the Moderate faction; we believed that we shouldn't really be getting all hot under the collar over something that we didn't really know the correct meaning of. But, being the only group that was interested in peaceful reconciliation and meaningful dialogue, we were small, ineffectual and hated by both of the other factions and, since we weren't interested in buying either hair products or hovertanks, the foreign traders ignored us too.

The situation could not last forever. Eventually, the truth about "The Joke" got out into the general population; I'm proud to say that the Moderates played an important role in this, though three of my grandparents paid with their lives for their efforts. In 3261, on the bicentennial of the colony's founding, a peace treaty was finally signed. The resultant enquiries revealed that the highest ranks of leadership of the two warring factions were fully aware of The Joke, but chose not to bring an end to the war earlier because it would mean admitting that their ancestors really had been that gullible. The scandal broke the political power of all of the Church factions in Arexack society and no faction of the Church now remains in the system as an organized theocratic faction. This betrayal by their leaders caused many followers to revoke their beliefs and call upon the interim governing council of the system to ask the outside galaxy for aid.

The Federation was the first superpower to arrive with reconstruction assistance, though being a border system about halfway between Sol and Achenar, the Empire was not far behind. The two superpowers signed a memorandum of understanding, agreeing to not use Arexack as a political football for a surprisingly long time, instead focussing on the task of fully integrating the former isolationist world back into galactic society.

So, where does that leave me, personally? I left Arexack twenty years ago, while the MOU was still in effect and Arexack was well on its way to prosperity. I've been back a few times - the last time I was there a couple of years ago, the Federation were still firmly in control, though I see on the galaxy map that the Empire has recently claimed ascendancy. Personally, it doesn't really bother me one way or the other. I have seen the chaos that isolationist Independent governments can bring, and the benefits that a benevolent galactic power can bring to a broken world. I support the Federation, and the Empire, out of gratitude for helping my planet in its time of need. I also support the Alliance and everything it stands for as well; I recognize that they were too remote to come to our aid. This "support" of the superpowers does not extend to my supporting any of the superpowers in their petty, pointless conflicts with each other - I know from experience that the superpowers are better than that - though I will happily support their efforts in taking over other Indie systems, as it's the Indies that I dislike the most. Especially anarchists and communists; childhood stories of the evils of the communist oppressors the Church originally fled from and the evil pirate slavers who occasionally raided Peter's Eden after first settlement have proved surprisingly difficult to expunge. Citizens of other theocracies have my pity, and my best wishes - I truly hope that they may find that which my ancestors failed to find.
 

Janik

J
My name is Janik Thane. I've been a spacer since birth, but to be honest, I never expected to be a pilot. It was hardly a passion as a child. See, my father made his living in Universal Cartography. He'd be gone for weeks or even months at a time while mom and I would be stuck on whatever station was buying his data at the time. It was tough but he'd always make the time count when he was back. I couldn't hate him because of that. The galaxy is an unforgiving place and I know he was doing it for us. I had gotten used to the uncertainty of when he would return. I found solace in imagining the new planets or stars he found while charting unknown space. It's funny when I look back on it, mom and I didn't even know anything was wrong.

He'd never left us for more than 2 months but when the third and the fourth passed by, I had a gut feeling something wasn't right. At the dawn of the 5th month, we started asking questions. None of the employers knew where he was. We even reached out to the Federation but his case was buried in bureaucracy and I imagine it’s filed away on a terminal somewhere. Nobody knew or seemed willing to lift a finger. I grew up not knowing where he was or if he was even alive. Then my mother died. It was rough being alone like that. I took a job as a dock worker to try and support myself. Life just kinda blurred together then, day after day.

I had come back from a double shift one night. I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was take a shower and fall into my bunk for the night. After the shower, I don't know if it was fate or not, but something in the back of my mind nagged me into checking my personal terminal. I had received a message. Most of it was corrupted, mostly static. I couldn't even pinpoint where it was from except for the fact that it wasn't from settled space. I could make out only a small chunks: "Son", "strange ship", and "decompression". The rest was garbage data. But I know for a fact it was my father. For the first time in years, I had heard from him. He was alive!

I went to the Federation again and once again, they did nothing. I couldn't stand by and wait for someone’s help. I needed to find him. I scraped together what was left of the small inheritance my mother left me and my life savings and enrolled to be a licensed pilot. I even found a beaten up second hand Sidewinder. Right now I'm just trying to scrape together enough cash to get a ship capable enough to track my father down. I've been doing okay. I managed to upgrade to a Hauler and soon I'll have a Type-6. Running cargo sure pays a hell of a lot better than breaking my back on the dock. But I need to find my father. I need to know where he is or if he is dead, I need to find closure.
 
I'm Amos Jouffray "Venerian", son of wealthy parents who make their living by doing busyness in populated agri-worlds. My father is a financial adviser and has worked on numerous projects, going from farms to tourist resorts. Although my family isn't poor, they did not have the means to help me realize my dream of becoming an independent pilot. I had to rely on my uncle David to lend me a Sidewinder and start out in life. (he owns a freight busyness and is much more adventurous than my parents when it comes to space).

My passion is explorations and scientific discoveries although I do enjoy a good sessions of bounty hunting every once in a while. I developed over the years a strong aversion for the federations and their cold, indifferent corporate attitude towards everything. I am not an imperial but I definitely support them against the federation. Also their ships are super sexy and I have a goal to own every imperial ship one day.

I am a super friendly dude, always down for a good night out in the club or simply talking about the problems of the world around a table with friends. I am passionate about xeno-gastronomy and I believe food is the only thing that is always worth checking out on a new world.
 
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Name's Percy. Born April 14, 3284 to Alice and Harald Clasen, in Olympus Village on Mars. My mother is a fairly well known architect and my father is a realtor. I have an older sister named Rebecca who's into politics. My piloting abilities were noticed when i was 14 and i was then picked up by the federal navy academy and trained to be an assassin. When i turned 17, my father bought me a Vulture and i set into space. Here i started by career by taking out wanted criminals and eventually drew the attention of Mother Gaia, the faction controlling the large majority of the Sol system. They hired me to take out troublemakers and that's how i made my fortune. Now i often to work for Mother Gaia, Frogcorp and YZ Ceti blue Galactic & Co. Otherwise, i study the stars and planets of this wonderfull galaxy we call home.

While i am officially neutral´, it's no secret, should a war break out between the Federation and the Empire, i stand with the former. (is this too mary sue? would like some feedback, i am a terrible roleplayer)
 
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Name's Percy. Born April 14, 3284 to Alice and Harald Clasen, in Olympus Village on Mars. My mother is a fairly well known architect and my father is a realtor. I have an older sister named Rebecca who's into politics. My piloting abilities were noticed when i was 14 and i was then picked up by the federal navy academy and trained to be an assassin. When i turned 17, my father bought me a Vulture and i set into space. Here i started by career by taking out wanted criminals and eventually drew the attention of Mother Gaia, the faction controlling the large majority of the Sol system. They hired me to take out troublemakers and that's how i made my fortune. Now i often to work for Mother Gaia, Frogcorp and YZ Ceti blue Galactic & Co. Otherwise, i study the stars and planets of this wonderfull galaxy we call home.

While i am officially neutral´, it's no secret, should a war break out between the Federation and the Empire, i stand with the former. (is this too mary sue? would like some feedback, i am a terrible roleplayer)
Purchasing a Vulture on the salary of an Architect and Realtor is kind of a stretch, but other than that, it sounds like your character is an ordinary person who makes his living in space. But maybe your character's folks inherited money. That does happen.
 
Looking Ahead.

"Though I was born with my feet upon the ground, I have always known that my heart and soul belong to the stars."
CMDR Alexander Radentia, C.E., E.E., T.E., Duke of The Imperial Auxilliary Navy.


For a individual who had lived his life among the stars, the only place he could call home was a Coriolis or an Orbis Starport. For Alexander, known by his Pilots Federation Callsign as Captain Redeye, Medupe City out of Cubeo served as this special place. This particula`ace of the large landing pad, Alexander finally let go of the throttle and stick to stretch his long arms, his ears greeted by the sound of Imperial Flight Controllers guiding ships to their docking stations and warning them to observe starport protocols. He smiled as he listened, a certain fondness for the female controller whom he had named Arianna prompted the unnatural movement of lips that were so used being locked in a frown or concentrated grimace. That voice that beautiful lilting voice reminded of a lost love who had met her end out in the black. Before those old, tender feelings opened the floodgates to his past, Alexander swept his legs to the right and stood up quickly. The rush of blood to his head caused a sensation of dizziness and forced him to seek the support of the dashboard. His large hand passed through the holographic sensor display causing it to fizzle while his body acclimatised to a new and somewhat unfamiliar position. A few short breaths later and he felt normal again, rising to his full height while removing his helmet, he placed it neatly on the seat and began to alight his precious Gutamaya Imperial Cutter for the starport proper.


Descending the stylishly aesthetic steps of the Cutter, Alexander put foot to steel for the first time in weeks. Although he loved being out in the black, it was a small relief to be out of the Pilots seat. The past few weeks had been a manic frenzy to acquaint himself with the Engineers scattered throughout the local bubble to upgrade his ships, he had also visited several of the so-called "Guardian Ruin" Sites as well as the crashed vehicle site in the HIP 17862 System. These trips had been a learning curve and a solemnly humbling experience which served to remind the young Commander that there was so much more going on in the Galaxy than he me might have realised. The extreme focus on his career with the Pilots Federation may have given him a short stint of tunnel vision but these recent trips had opened his blue eyes wider than they had ever been. The excitement and sense of wonderment as he thought on all the possibilities caused a euphoric shiver to pulsate throughout his body as he made his way across the remainder of the landing pad and into the bowels of the station.


The Milky Way was teeming with mystery just waiting to be uncovered as well as thousands upon thousand of opportunities just waiting to be seized by the scruff of the neck. Alexander's ruminations continued to churn and churn in his mind while he progressed through the checkpoints toward his suite. He presented his credentials upon request, the attitudes of the security teams changing visibly once they realised they were dealing with a valued and loyal servant of the Princess Duval and an ally of the local Minor Factions. If suchlike had happened 2 or 3 years ago, the Duke may have kicked up a fuss but with the Cold War between the Empire and Federation hotting up, it paid to be vigilant. As such, Alexander politely inclined his head, accepted the return of his credentials and continued upon his route, repeating the process until he finally reached his destination.


Arriving outside his suite at last, the Duke used his keycard to deactivate the locks and did not hesitate to enter his abode. Home at last, he unfastened the collar of his flight suit and unzipped the front panel slightly allowing his body to breathe. As one might expect of a Pilot of his rank, stature, and Credit Balance, the foyer and the rest of his suite was an opulent enclosure outmatched only by the likes of her Imperial Majesty's Palace on Capitol and the abodes of Princess Duval as well Senators Patreus and Torval. The entrance foyer was massive, decorated in the red and blacks that were synonymous with his family's lineage. Above the entrance way into the Suite proper hung three holographic frames denoting his Pilots Federation rank, expensive artwork adorned the walls too, as did equally expensive ornaments on antique furniture but their value paled in comparison to the white, cyan, and orange symbols shining down on the black speckled granite flooring. They meant everything to him.


Before Alexander could enter his home properly, the large double doors leading into it opened inward on their arc to reveal a tall, elegant blonde haired young woman in her late twenties. Her name was Talia de'Lauredai. She served as his advisor and the Executor of his estate while he traveled the corridors of hyperspace. Talia was one of the few personal friends the Duke had left and a valuable part of his life and plans going forward. Despite their long association, they had never been intimate. Both were consummate professionals who preferred to focus their efforts on aggrandizing the Duke's agendas going forward. As ever, she was prepared for his arrival, a holopad nestled neatly under her right arm, her uniform spotless. Alexander could not help but admire her dedication, it was an inspiration to him and a great motivator too. On this day, she wore a smile for him in stark contrast to his own usual frown.


"Welcome home, Sire." Talia greeted in her usual no nonsense manner, bending her knees into a deep formal curtsey while flicking her hand outward with an elegance rivalling those regular attendees of the The Emperor's Court. She spoke softly, yet firmly. There an underlying steel in her voice, an aura of command and dutiful subservience all rolled into one, upon hearing it, Alex knew he truly was home.


"Thank you." Alexander replied, his voice weary, showing his own tiredness. "What do you have for me?" He asked, extending a hand for the holopad he knew would contain a report.


Giving the Duke the pad, Talia dove straight into her report as the pair made their way to the Duke's office. "Firstly, Engineer Tah has deposited the payment for the data you collected out in the Synuefe Region into your account and you have your weekly salary of 50,000,000 Credits to claim from her Highness, the Princess." She began matter of factly, leading the Duke down the corridors, walls adorned with photos of his many, many voyages both inside and outside the local bubble. "There is still an ongoing issue with the Preparation to welcome Yaque into the Princess sphere of influence, it seems more and more likely that a Fifth Column is being established to undermine Princess Duval but we cannot be sure who is behind it. Another Civil War has broken out in Cubeo, too. I am sure the Imperial Aligned factions would appreciate the support of a Triple Elite pilot in their efforts to quell the uprising." She smiled slightly, noting a slight flush of redness touching the Duke's cheeks out of the corner of her blue eyes. "You do need the credits after your recent spending spree..."


"Penny pinching, again?" Alexander quipped as they entered an area known as the hub, a large expanse which connected the living and work areas of the Duke's home.


"Well, someone has to, do not they?" Talia snapped. "If it were up to you, you would be penniless within the week."


"Point taken." The Duke conceded amicably as they approached the entrance to his office. Opening the door, Alex allowed the lady to enter first before he followed and shut the door behind him. He moved to the small wetbar while Talia continued her brief and served them both a generous measure of Lavian brandy before taking the seat as his desk. Raising his feet to the edge, he continued listening to Talia as she sat opposite him and continued to fill him in on events that took place his absence, ignoring the drink all the while. "Commander Salome has been sighted and identified as one of the perpetrators behind the recent heist at Darnelle's Progress. Princess Duval has issued a kill order on the former Senator..."


"How much is the bounty?" Alexander inquired curiously, swirling his brandy in the heavy crystal glass.


"From what I have heard, 500,000 Credits..." She answered.


"Is that all?" Alexander scowled in disgust. "If everybody wants such a high value target dead, you do not offer a pittance for the deed..." He shook his head and downed the brandy in a single gulp, shuddering as the alcohol travelled down his gullet and into his stomach.


"What is your obsession with Salome?" Talia demanded suddenly, the subject of Salome to Alexander was just as touchy as the subject of Raxxla was to any Explorer. Salome's notoriety had somehow affected the Duke and she was not sure why. It was distressing. Consorting with a known criminal could cause irreparable damage to the Duke's endeavours going forward, it could even cost him his life.


"I just want to talk to her..." Alexander replied cautiously, placing the empty glass upon the wooden surface of his expansive desk.


"But why?" Talia dared to ask. "If the Empire so much as catches a whiff of you consorting with her, it could jeopardize everything you have planned going ahead. Do you want to risk everything for some idle chatter? I mean really, Alex. Come on."


Alexander shot a menacing glare at Talia and not for using his given name, it was more to do with the fact that she was right. Salome was a point of contention across many spheres throughout the Empire. He knew well that he should stay the hell away but there was an interesting allure surrounding the former Senator. She had seen things, she had answers. Maybe those answers were the keys to unlocking some of his own past. The Duke's thoughts began to fade and his passions began to simmer but they did not entirely disappear, Salome was always at the back of his mind. One day, he would find a way, if she were able to survive.


"You are right, Talia. You are right." Alexander admitted, although reluctantly.


"Good." Talia replied, allowing herself an audible sigh of relief. "Forget Salome and focus upon your own endeavours." She reiterated sternly.


Remaining silent for a good minute, the Duke nodded as his thoughts shifted back onto his own agenda. "Speaking of which." He resumed after he regained focus. "Do you have any suggestions?"


"I do." Talia nodded, clasping her hands and placing them upon her lap. "We were of like mind when we plotted your course to this moment. You have achieved a level few are able to, this must be your foundation. You cannot do it alone, Sire." She paused a moment, still ignoring her drink. "I think your hunch about the Survey Cannisters out in the black is a good one. Your Wingmate is currently outside the bubble running some long haul passenger missions. I have given him orders to investigate any Unidentified Signal Sources and to retrieve and Data Cannisters he may find, along with the locations where he found them."


Upon mention of the Canisters, Alexander experienced a strange sensation at the core of his gut, almost as if someone was using his soul as their own personal stress ball. He had always considered himself out of place, seeing that Canister floating in a sea of black had triggered an unsettling feeling he couldn't describe. His reluctance to retrieve it had only left him with regret. He silently cursed his fear and dreaded that his hesitation might have caused him to miss out on the only opportunity he had to unlock the mysteries of his own past. Perhaps this is what drew him to Salome so, she too was at the center of an mystery and it must have been gnawing at her to uncover the truth behind it.


"If you are to continue along your path, you will need Allies and support. The only way you will achieve this is by forming your own Faction." Talia carried on despite the Duke's lapse of concentration. "Reach out to fellow Faction Leaders serving the Princess and see where your intended faction can serve the Princess best. Keep your head down, serve loyally, contribute, and when the time is right, make your move." She finalised, slamming her palm upon the surface of the desk.


The sudden crack of flesh upon wood brought the Duke back to reality. "Very well." Alexander nodded. "I guess I will go make some friends."


With a smile, Talia finally reached for her drink. "To your future, my Liege." She toasted, raising the glass in his honour before downing the warm liquid and placing the empty vessel on the desk. She waited for the alcohol to settle before speaking again. "One of the Princess' Retainers is hosting a small soiree in the Imperial Lounge at 8PM, it would behoove you to make an appearance and extend a hand to those who might be in attendance. Is there anything else, Sire?"


Without a word, Alexander shook his head and waved a hand in dismissal.


"A tuxedo will be prepared. 8PM sharp, you are not a Duval so no showing up fashionably late." Offering her Liege a cheeky smile, Talia offered a less formal curtsey and excused herself from her employers presence, leaving him in silent contemplation while he prepared for the eve ahead and the rest of his life.​
 
>Back Story

Born on Earth, 2nd December 3271 to a wealthy Federation family. Given the best medical care and a personal nanny,. Life couldn't have started better. Sooden's life was mapped out from birth, with a guarantied career in the federal navy, following an expensive education in the best schools.

Sooden spent very little time getting to know her mother and father, and had no siblings, so the federation was Sooden's family.

Everything went to plan. By age 18 Sooden was in the federal navy as a crewman on short supply runs and soon chief supervisor of her own logistic team. Thanks to exceptional service, Sooden was offered the option of training in one of the main space fairing sciences and jumped at the chance to become an explorer.

By age 22 Sooden was a fully trained science officer specialising in Cartographic, with combat training and some powerful friends. But things where starting to slow down...

After 8 years mapping a small part of galaxy for the federation and still no command position, Sooden was getting itchy feet. Life had become routine, mapping the local 500 Lys of space and occasionally venturing into Empire space. Sooden still had 5 year of service left and no leverage to ask for a command .That's when things went a little wrong.

CMDR REN

---------
haven't done much with my charicter/roleplay in a while. Maybe if 2.3 onward sparks my passions, i will :)

Toying with the idea of short videos of some adventures (starting with the back story) but they would only have text and no voice... so not sure how interesting they would be.
 
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Zerena 'Zyr' Brock is a young woman from Barsanti station in Brani, who took up piloting when she found a new Sidewinder for sale for close to nothing. Getting past her piloting test after two or three tries, she became a fully licensed pilot, and a Federal auxiliary. Not long after, she found out why her Sidewinder was so cheap: It was taken from a Brani Blue Syndicate slaver ring that had recently been broken up. At that point, she declared that she would (almost) never use commit crimes with her vessel (the occacional smuggling mission for a quick buck was fine as long as it was done extremely rarely). And the lowest crimes, the unforgivable sins, for her were piracy and transporting human flesh (slaves, imperial and otherwise).

She was able to follow her rules for some time, merely breaking them once to get access to the dweller in her Asp (and even then, doing everything she could to minimize the damage), the result of a long, hard career on the right side of the law for the most part, until, one day, doing well for herself with three Asps and a Type-6 to her name, she didn't check a mission closely enough. She was on her seat, looking over the available missions, and desperately in need o a trip to the can, when she stumbled upon a smuggling mission for the Federation that involved smuggling something and would grant her a quarter of a million credits and a promotion to Ensign in the auxiliaries. Excited by the second part of the prospect, she accepted it without looking at what she would be hauling, and made a mad dash to the toilet, letting the bots load up her cargo in the meantime.

When she returned to the cockpit, she decided to check what she would be smuggling. To her horror, she found that she was being asked to smuggle Imperial slaves to her home system. And now that they were on her ship, she couldn't just break her cardinal rule. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she quickly flew off to her destination, trying to justify to herself this mission. "Oh, they're being taken to Boodt Port to be freed," or some such. But it rang hollow to her. The truth was, she had no idea what would happen to these slaves, and she hated it. As she moved to the airlock of Boodt Port, she was split between hoping and fearing a system authority scan and being blown out of space, so this farce would end.

In the end, she was not scanned, and the delivery went off without a hitch. Afterwards, though, she reported the delivery to Brani Creative interstellar anonymously, and went back to the bathroom to take a shower, to clean herself from the blood of those slaves that now she felt clung to her. For three hours, she scrubbed and scrubbed, until her skin was raw, and the feeling had not gone away. At that point, she decided that there was only one thing to do: repent by working towards the freedom of all slaves, Imperial or otherwise, however she could. In other words, she is now a dedicated abolitionist.

(I came up with all of this last night after actually hauling some slaves, something I never wanted to do, for that very rank)
 
ASELLUS PRIMUS GOLD LEGAL IND

Employee Profile

NAME: James Nicholas Barrett
PERS NO.: P334-221
DATE OF BIRTH: 14/10/2970
PLACE OF BIRTH Earth / Sol System
RECENT PHOTO:


CURRENT ASSIGNMENT: APGLI HQ, Beagle 2 Landing
LINE MANAGER: Tom Hardy
ROLE: Pilot / Messenger
CLEARANCE: G+, MP

LINE MANAGER REMARKS:
Reliable pilot, capable of performing tasks classified as DIFFICULT or VERY DIFFICULT. Good track record of shipments. Shows some negotiating skills. However, tends to be careless and take unnecessary risks. Hot - headed, company had to pay several fines he got for unauthorised use of force / speeding / possession of illegal cargo (already deducted from the salary).

Warning: strong tendency to abuse alcohol and drugs. Spent time in rehab centre twice. Company lawyers employed to release him from arrest on 3 different systems for bar brawls / possession of illegal substances. Onboard computers detected signs of alcohol twice, preventing launch [note: standard issue alco-test software installed on all company vessels].

RECOMMENDATIONS:
Despite satisfactory track record of standard assignments, not eligible for promotion.
However, due to good piloting skills, eligible for participation in CERBERUS programme.
Note to HR Department: cross - check with other divisions and if results are positive, put Barrett on the list.

DUTY STATUS: ACTIVE

OOC

This is my second take on writing the story based on what happens in-game to my character - after previous one, Duncan MacLeod, died.
This time I also decided to play in a kind of "Iron Mode" with a simple system I came up with:

A) Every time my ship is blown to pieces, I will roll the dice and see if the escape / ejection pod did work properly. The chances depend on the quality of the Life Support System installed: E gives 60% survival chance, D gives 70%, C gives 80%, B gives 90% and A gives 95%. There will be only one roll. If I die - I die.

B) I will be using ship insurance, but instead of getting exactly the same ship I had, once I "respawn" I am going to sell the vessel I had. This will simulate me getting the insurance money back, but I still will have to go through of the whole process of finding a new one, getting all the modules etc. It is rather unrealistic to have this shiny new Imperial Clipper delivered by the insurance company to a remote, backwater station somewhere in a pirate - controlled territory, isn't it?

C) I will try to get good IC reason to what I am doing and never play OOC (to harvest etc). So if you ever meet James Barrrett online, this means that I am roleplaying him. And I do encourage you all to get in touch for some good RP experience!
 
I am Commander Thomas Templehof, ex-Imperial slave, ex-Imperial Scout, Current Loner.

"I grew up on Topaz, a High and mighty Imperial Naval world in the Facece system. For as long as I remember my father was in indentured servitude due to his gambling and many other vices. When I came of age I guess I got roped into hard labour with him. Working long hours for just enough to get by. Don't get me wrong I don't mind the system, it's a good one. Held it against my father though.

I lost my left eye during some construction work on Coate's mine when I was around seventeen, loose rock flew into it and left it useless, I was hoping to save some money and get one of those cybernetic ones the net's always trying to sell. Not much luck with the little cash me and father made going on his drinking money.

My father passed on a few years later, left me with a lot of things unsaid. Once my "debt" was repaid I naturally enlisted within the Imperial Navy due to the strong presence they had in that system, but mostly I wanted to get off those planets and see more of the bubble, hell outside of it too. I spent the next few years running courier duties... Sometimes I'd get missions to recon or investigate federal incursions, pirates and the usual.

I soon realised that there wasn't much excitement in running around the system as a glorified post boy. So once my term came up for renewal I left, the money I saved got me a beat up Asp and I've been cruising around the void ever since, sometimes popping back to Imp space and catching up with the news. Same old political stuff, I don't bother with the bickering I left the forces to get away from it all. My friends are my ship the stars and sometimes a co-pilot or two... Same as me usually, just drifters looking for a quick trip out into nothing.

I still hold the Empire's ideals, I might run small errands for old friends in the stations within the Empire's territories but not much else. Im hoping to find that one journey, that one trip that'll get me set for life. But as of now I'm flying The Star of Achenar my old and reliable Asp, drifting around the void for
something to chase."

E8TGo0l.jpg
 
Zerena 'Zyr' Brock is a young woman from Barsanti station in Brani, who took up piloting when she found a new Sidewinder for sale for close to nothing. Getting past her piloting test after two or three tries, she became a fully licensed pilot, and a Federal auxiliary. Not long after, she found out why her Sidewinder was so cheap: It was taken from a Brani Blue Syndicate slaver ring that had recently been broken up. At that point, she declared that she would (almost) never use commit crimes with her vessel (the occacional smuggling mission for a quick buck was fine as long as it was done extremely rarely). And the lowest crimes, the unforgivable sins, for her were piracy and transporting human flesh (slaves, imperial and otherwise).

She was able to follow her rules for some time, merely breaking them once to get access to the dweller in her Asp (and even then, doing everything she could to minimize the damage), the result of a long, hard career on the right side of the law for the most part, until, one day, doing well for herself with three Asps and a Type-6 to her name, she didn't check a mission closely enough. She was on her seat, looking over the available missions, and desperately in need o a trip to the can, when she stumbled upon a smuggling mission for the Federation that involved smuggling something and would grant her a quarter of a million credits and a promotion to Ensign in the auxiliaries. Excited by the second part of the prospect, she accepted it without looking at what she would be hauling, and made a mad dash to the toilet, letting the bots load up her cargo in the meantime.

When she returned to the cockpit, she decided to check what she would be smuggling. To her horror, she found that she was being asked to smuggle Imperial slaves to her home system. And now that they were on her ship, she couldn't just break her cardinal rule. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she quickly flew off to her destination, trying to justify to herself this mission. "Oh, they're being taken to Boodt Port to be freed," or some such. But it rang hollow to her. The truth was, she had no idea what would happen to these slaves, and she hated it. As she moved to the airlock of Boodt Port, she was split between hoping and fearing a system authority scan and being blown out of space, so this farce would end.

In the end, she was not scanned, and the delivery went off without a hitch. Afterwards, though, she reported the delivery to Brani Creative interstellar anonymously, and went back to the bathroom to take a shower, to clean herself from the blood of those slaves that now she felt clung to her. For three hours, she scrubbed and scrubbed, until her skin was raw, and the feeling had not gone away. At that point, she decided that there was only one thing to do: repent by working towards the freedom of all slaves, Imperial or otherwise, however she could. In other words, she is now a dedicated abolitionist.

(I came up with all of this last night after actually hauling some slaves, something I never wanted to do, for that very rank)
You ought to consider Mossfoot's Pilot Ejection Table. It would give you a better chance of surviving and life support is taken into account; along quite a few other factors. There's even provisions for an SRV and even not having insurance so it's just a survive or not but you never take insurance if you survive. You can find details at the link below. I've also written a program (freeware) that will let you set the conditions and then roll a die for you. It's at the link below as well.

https://forums.frontier.co.uk/showthread.php/107694-Pilot-Ejection-Table-For-those-who-want-some-risk-in-their-game!
 
My name is Commander Tess Kirk of Alexandria,

I am an ally of the Hyperion Star Alliance, I was made custodian of my home system in the early months of my career with them. When I'm not adventuring the galaxy or fighting to protect my home system from being under threat of terrorists, economic struggle, The Empire or otherwise, I am a correspondent for the 7 News broadcasting group in my system LHS 535.

I have lived on the port Alexandria Hub all my life and have been caught up in a fair amount of violence on board the Coriolis. It was this reason that I became part of the independent news group at the station, I want the political parties in LHS 535 to recognise the station is a home and not a war ground for parties to engage in fighting against each other in the aim of controlling the system the way they want not the way the people want.

Being a correspondent for a system were the political groups are almost always fighting for control I have suffered my own wounds in conflicts aboard Alexandria Hub, one of my most deadly attacks was to my face during a riot...in which a chaotic protester swung blindly at me with a knife...that left me needing to replace my right eye with a cybernetic one and a scar which runs the length of my face. My most recent deadly encounter was whilst reporting on a civil war happening between two factions I was unexpectedly trapped in a skirmish at the one of the promenades...I was hit in the leg by a laser and even more unfortunate was that I lost my leg due to radiation poisoning and not being treated quick enough. But never-minding however many scars dealt against me, or limbs replaced I still fight to give the people the news in the system.
 
I've got an idea as to what his Story will be and I am thinking of making a short story detailing it. So if I get round to writing it I might link it on here.
 
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I'm planning out a series of stories and RPs centering around my CMDR, described earlier in this thread, and another woman, who will be introduced in the first part, a short story. I'll describe the latter here for convenience. (vagueness is intentional, as I have this odd not-quite-belief that if I write something down, it becomes more or less permanent, which is why I plan in my head)

A former slave, discovered as a stowaway on the "Vegetable Man", after taking the opportunity to make a break while her master was paying attention to something else, Raven X (who no longer remembers her real name) becomes Zerana, "Zyr" Brock's co-pilot with full pay and benefits, as well as being able to live aboard her savior's vessels (as long as she stays with Zyr due to flight regulations, and her technically not being a fully licensed pilot). Raven is somewhat enamored with Zyr, which the latter is well aware of, but simply thinks of as hero worship and tries to discourage.
 
Name: jonathan "JK" kingsly-heartson
prefered name: JKingsly or Kingsly
age: 20
cybernetic enhancements: left eye implant, enhanced right eye
hair: brown, dyed pink-purple
skin: pale

CMDR background:
he started off as a miner, fed up with the still harsh conditions of the mine, he joind the pilots federation.

CMDR personality:
Kingsy shows signs of difficulty in social interaction and seems to be difficult to earn their trust, however, after earning his trust he seems laid back
 
It feels good to be free, but wait...Am I really free?? I'm not captive to the city anymore, but yet the walls and glass windows of my ship seem so close sometimes. Life sustains itself within the walls, but outside of them, nothingness. Darkness, just empty space. It seems the only planets I found myself upon I cannot feel the ground beneath my feet, always encapsulated. I struggle with the belief that I am any more free than my previous life in the captivity and confinement of my previous home. I long to walk on soil and breathe the oxygen of an atmosphere, things and dreams I have only read of in stories...There is so much I long for, the truth of who I am and where I am from, to know of the parents that created me. They call me LunatikBinge but it's not my real name. Just a nickname I picked up along the way...They called me Corvo at the orphanage but I know that to not be true either. The only truth is that I will probably never know who I really am. They said my father was a great man, an aeronaut in a great Armada that doesn't exist anymore. So many stories but are they fact or fiction? All I have left to do is make my own fact, create my own destiny and fortune in this never ending pit of darkness. I guess if I ever find the end, I will find my light, or maybe it is madness that awaits me...

Cmdr LunatikBinge, first transmission complete 02 Jun 3303.
 
CMDR Kaladen Hillman,

Galactic date: 07/06/3303

Commander name: Kaladen Hillman

Birthplace: Earth.

Background: Military.


This perticular pilot goes on his way to try and make sure the Federation's goals are not being pushed aside by them that would see it ruined in the power struggle. Working to improve not only the trade of the systems under their control but also the safty of his home system when the need arises.


was not sure what else to put in as this game is new to me for the rp front. but the char has been with me in a scifi D'n'D game me and friends play. Im seeking people so that we can chill and enjoy the idea of a space colony kind of rp experiance.
 
Cmdr James Septum
born into a trading family that was bassed out of Eravate. He was a smart child and was on track to go to a computer science school in the sol system. Before he could go to the school he had to get some money so he worked in a sidewinder with his family in thier trading. one time when they were trading a pirate crew interdicted them and killed his family. He only survived because early in the battle his core had been shot and his ship became cold. He woke up with barely enough oxygen and warmth. He called the nearest station for help. A federal navy gun ship came. He joined the navy after that. One day when he was on patrol in the system where his parents died. He saw the ship that killed his parents and he fired apon and killed it he found out that it had civilians on it. He dropped out of the navy and went into bounty hunting to kill criminals he eventually killed the pirate crew that had attacked his family he killed most of them. He stopped bounty hunting after that.
He went into exploring. As everything else he did that did not last long. He was in the California Nebula when salome died. He went to HR 6421 and he is now in the intiation for CoR.
 
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