Seeing as I chose my real name, I might choose the same path as Buck Rodgers.
ROLEPLAYING - Introduce your Commander
- Thread starter Commander Edison
- Start date
Seeing as I chose my real name, I might choose the same path as Buck Rodgers.
eWinterwalker * age undetermined.
CEO Winterwalker Enterprises
STATUS: Member Elite Pilot's Federation.
GROUNDED .. see why here
favours Grenade(s), Beretta (point ammo) and Neurogenics (tree frog) toxin tipped Swiss Army Knife.
Hobbies include; Impossible Missions, Thievery, Special Circumstances and Elite Dangerous
note: allergies to fireproofing shampoos.
* genetic twin NPC, molds and records ( suspect destroyed possibly, by Thargoids ), 2994.
###
The following fragmentary recording was received by WWEnterprises listening post 4a/06 2994; at the time of Miss Winterwalker's disappearance ... Later it was discovered to have been an abduction. The ransom has since been paid off in full. A replacement Sidewinder is under construction.
< message begins >
###
.. Why don't you .. <static> .. ANSWER ?
[ ship systems .. failing ]
. ayday! Mayday! eWinterwalker .. up the Q, please respond.
[ eject ] [ eject ]
... NANITES !! .. infecting comm uications hardware, please respond !
< unintelligible, 25.78 secs >
... attempting .. on ship impact, Thargoids! ev ..rywhere!!.
< static >
< several dozen ship warnings >
SURRENDER ... OR DIE ... WINTER .. WALKER
< response redacted >
[ escape pod launched ]
< no further communications received >
###
< message ends >
CEO Winterwalker Enterprises
STATUS: Member Elite Pilot's Federation.
GROUNDED .. see why here
favours Grenade(s), Beretta (point ammo) and Neurogenics (tree frog) toxin tipped Swiss Army Knife.
Hobbies include; Impossible Missions, Thievery, Special Circumstances and Elite Dangerous
note: allergies to fireproofing shampoos.
* genetic twin NPC, molds and records ( suspect destroyed possibly, by Thargoids ), 2994.
###
The following fragmentary recording was received by WWEnterprises listening post 4a/06 2994; at the time of Miss Winterwalker's disappearance ... Later it was discovered to have been an abduction. The ransom has since been paid off in full. A replacement Sidewinder is under construction.
< message begins >
###
.. Why don't you .. <static> .. ANSWER ?
[ ship systems .. failing ]
. ayday! Mayday! eWinterwalker .. up the Q, please respond.
[ eject ] [ eject ]
... NANITES !! .. infecting comm uications hardware, please respond !
< unintelligible, 25.78 secs >
... attempting .. on ship impact, Thargoids! ev ..rywhere!!.
< static >
< several dozen ship warnings >
SURRENDER ... OR DIE ... WINTER .. WALKER
< response redacted >
[ escape pod launched ]
< no further communications received >
###
< message ends >
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The reason why I didn't name my commander my username because the username is not even a real name lol.
The name's Hanger.........Clef Hanger.
......
......
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Cmdr Jimac.
A wanderer from a lost slice of the Multi-verse. His own world gone and no way back, he finds himself in a Universe strangely familiar but with striking differences to his own.
He believes he can't be alone, if he made it here there must be others, hiding among these people.
Whispered rumours, echoes of the old names.
He waits , he listens...Octavia.
A wanderer from a lost slice of the Multi-verse. His own world gone and no way back, he finds himself in a Universe strangely familiar but with striking differences to his own.
He believes he can't be alone, if he made it here there must be others, hiding among these people.
Whispered rumours, echoes of the old names.
He waits , he listens...Octavia.
OK, here goes nothing:
Compared to other backgrounds this is kind of a no-story. I always liked nobodies. The ones with no secrets (or at least no "Oh, I am actually a long lost prince and heir to throne" kind of secrets or backdrops).
This is one of those nobodies, but with the potential for a great future.
Be kind with me, English is not my first language.
Compared to other backgrounds this is kind of a no-story. I always liked nobodies. The ones with no secrets (or at least no "Oh, I am actually a long lost prince and heir to throne" kind of secrets or backdrops).
This is one of those nobodies, but with the potential for a great future.
Be kind with me, English is not my first language.
Hi,
My name is Dexter Wolf. I am the youngest of five children of a local merchant in Olympus Village on Mars. He specialized in the import of exotic fruit and vegetables and the business was always good enough for us to lead a comfortable life. He took an early retirement and let my eldest brother and sister take over the business short before my mother died. She was a nurse at the hospital and you know how they say doctors make the worst patients? Nurses are no better!
She was strong and stubborn and ignored the growing pain for too long. Even with gene therapy and progenitor cells there is a point in the development of cancer where it is too late for the beginning of treatment. When she finally agreed to get checked up and was diagnosed it had already spread to most vital organs. Still, she had some quality time with us left, as the growth of the many tumors was slowed significantly by the meds. Yet in the end all they could do was ease her passing. This is now a couple of years ago and I still think about her a lot. I do miss her.
Not too long after my father met someone else and married again. She is a lovely woman. We do like her a lot, and we are all glad they are happy together. My brothers and sisters went on with their lives and their work; the oldest two with the trading, the others as a carpenter building luxury interiors and as a teacher; and me as a computer technician at a manufacturer of a luxury clothing. Everything was back to normal. Nothing had changed, really. It never does.
We are a very planet-bound family. Ever since the earliest settlement none of us took to the stars. Even for longer distances to other cities or villages, ground based transport like trains or shuttle busses are the vehicles of choice. As we would say, we are very much down to Mars. Humans were made to live on planets and to walk, not to fly. That is for others, not for us. There was this one exception, my great granduncle Robert, but we don’t talk about him that much.
Of course that does not mean I was not thinking about him. He was the only one who ever left planet side. And he came back; years later, with some grand tales about adventure, heroism, exploring, and incredible sights. I had not even been born at the time but you know how those stories of the old ones go! Although he wasn’t cast out he was always met with suspicion by the rest of the family. My father once told me Robert had a part in the founding of a strange organization of some sort. Well, I might never know…
All I know is that something was missing. I have no friends, no social connections. I am not good in dealing with people, hence my preference for a job operating machines and computers. Small talk bores me most of the time and many problems of my surrounding seem insignificant to me. It is not that I was unhappy, just not… complete. Very often I looked at the little pin badge my dad had in a drawer of his desk. It had belonged to Robert, and as he had no children it went to his brother, my great grandfather, and so found its way to my father. It looked like a variation to the emblem of the Pilots Federation. A shape with wings. Obviously! And I looked at the stars, night after night, not knowing what I was looking for. I didn’t want to run away from anything. I didn’t want to get someplace special.
I don’t know when or how I made the decision, but one day there I stood in front of my father asking for my part of the inheritance from my mother who had owned a little part of the shop. He took it surprisingly well and even when I told him what I intended to do, he remained calm and reasonable. The other members of my family though I had gone out of my mind. Still everybody was there at my farewell party. It was a pleasant, intimate get-together with a lot of well-wishes and good advises, I was told many times to “write often” and “keep in touch”. Then I left.
After completing the simulator training and passing the test for the pilot’s license I applied for entry to the Pilots Federation. Better safe than sorry. They act in the interest of their members, independent pilots.
On the bulletin board of Olympus Village I found this cheap offer of a rather used Faulcon DeLacey Sidewinder. I had to book a flight to Mars High, the Sidewinder has no atmospheric shielding, too expensive. Funny, I have never left the planet before and my ship has never landed on one. After all expenses I have about a thousand credits left. Not a lot. Not really enough to make money by trading either. Luckily my old employer gave me a little contract of transporting some of the latest fashion articles to earth for some credits. “That at least something useful comes out your stupid idea to leave”, he said. Not the most lucrative first mission. And I will not even be able to visit the planet. But well, it doesn’t matter.
So here I am, in my own cockpit, in my own ship. I have the pin-badge of my great granduncle with me. My father said, it may be more useful to me up here than to him down there. I don’t know. We’ll see.
Who am I, do you ask? Nobody, I say. Just another pilot trying to make it in the galaxy. But for the first time I am doing something that feels meaningful. And there is something else.
I am not nervous. I am not afraid.
I am ready.
My name is Dexter Wolf. I am the youngest of five children of a local merchant in Olympus Village on Mars. He specialized in the import of exotic fruit and vegetables and the business was always good enough for us to lead a comfortable life. He took an early retirement and let my eldest brother and sister take over the business short before my mother died. She was a nurse at the hospital and you know how they say doctors make the worst patients? Nurses are no better!
She was strong and stubborn and ignored the growing pain for too long. Even with gene therapy and progenitor cells there is a point in the development of cancer where it is too late for the beginning of treatment. When she finally agreed to get checked up and was diagnosed it had already spread to most vital organs. Still, she had some quality time with us left, as the growth of the many tumors was slowed significantly by the meds. Yet in the end all they could do was ease her passing. This is now a couple of years ago and I still think about her a lot. I do miss her.
Not too long after my father met someone else and married again. She is a lovely woman. We do like her a lot, and we are all glad they are happy together. My brothers and sisters went on with their lives and their work; the oldest two with the trading, the others as a carpenter building luxury interiors and as a teacher; and me as a computer technician at a manufacturer of a luxury clothing. Everything was back to normal. Nothing had changed, really. It never does.
We are a very planet-bound family. Ever since the earliest settlement none of us took to the stars. Even for longer distances to other cities or villages, ground based transport like trains or shuttle busses are the vehicles of choice. As we would say, we are very much down to Mars. Humans were made to live on planets and to walk, not to fly. That is for others, not for us. There was this one exception, my great granduncle Robert, but we don’t talk about him that much.
Of course that does not mean I was not thinking about him. He was the only one who ever left planet side. And he came back; years later, with some grand tales about adventure, heroism, exploring, and incredible sights. I had not even been born at the time but you know how those stories of the old ones go! Although he wasn’t cast out he was always met with suspicion by the rest of the family. My father once told me Robert had a part in the founding of a strange organization of some sort. Well, I might never know…
All I know is that something was missing. I have no friends, no social connections. I am not good in dealing with people, hence my preference for a job operating machines and computers. Small talk bores me most of the time and many problems of my surrounding seem insignificant to me. It is not that I was unhappy, just not… complete. Very often I looked at the little pin badge my dad had in a drawer of his desk. It had belonged to Robert, and as he had no children it went to his brother, my great grandfather, and so found its way to my father. It looked like a variation to the emblem of the Pilots Federation. A shape with wings. Obviously! And I looked at the stars, night after night, not knowing what I was looking for. I didn’t want to run away from anything. I didn’t want to get someplace special.
I don’t know when or how I made the decision, but one day there I stood in front of my father asking for my part of the inheritance from my mother who had owned a little part of the shop. He took it surprisingly well and even when I told him what I intended to do, he remained calm and reasonable. The other members of my family though I had gone out of my mind. Still everybody was there at my farewell party. It was a pleasant, intimate get-together with a lot of well-wishes and good advises, I was told many times to “write often” and “keep in touch”. Then I left.
After completing the simulator training and passing the test for the pilot’s license I applied for entry to the Pilots Federation. Better safe than sorry. They act in the interest of their members, independent pilots.
On the bulletin board of Olympus Village I found this cheap offer of a rather used Faulcon DeLacey Sidewinder. I had to book a flight to Mars High, the Sidewinder has no atmospheric shielding, too expensive. Funny, I have never left the planet before and my ship has never landed on one. After all expenses I have about a thousand credits left. Not a lot. Not really enough to make money by trading either. Luckily my old employer gave me a little contract of transporting some of the latest fashion articles to earth for some credits. “That at least something useful comes out your stupid idea to leave”, he said. Not the most lucrative first mission. And I will not even be able to visit the planet. But well, it doesn’t matter.
So here I am, in my own cockpit, in my own ship. I have the pin-badge of my great granduncle with me. My father said, it may be more useful to me up here than to him down there. I don’t know. We’ll see.
Who am I, do you ask? Nobody, I say. Just another pilot trying to make it in the galaxy. But for the first time I am doing something that feels meaningful. And there is something else.
I am not nervous. I am not afraid.
I am ready.
Excellent work! Don't worry too much about your english skills, I loved it. While I like a bit of high drama, Elite is a game made for the nobody becoming the somebody. Great bio.
Callsign: Krow
Name: Cyrus Corbeau
Place of Birth: Novitski Oasis - Naraka System
Background: Raised on a Silo67 Wheat Belt, Cyrus Corbeau came from humble beginnings. Working with his father, Luther Corbeau, at a young age he became fascinated with the trade ships coming and going, he often imagined the exciting journies and vast beauties of the universe that these truckers would see.
He longed to escape the dusty drudgery of the wheat farms.
Much to his fathers chagrin, who wished him to take over the wheat farm, Krow took a menial job in processing and packaging so he could be closer to the large Haulers, even if it was only in the interior of the cargo holds.
Eventually he befriended a regular visiting trade Commander, Leonard "Tincan" Cooper, who saw himself in the young Cyrus and loaned him a Sidewinder to help get him started.
Cyrus has since made good on his loan and is currently trading in his Lakon 9 trade ship (The Fat Yak).
Cyrus Corbeau still regularly trades with the Naraka System as it benefits his family business and gives him the opportunity to visit his family in his down time.
Name: Cyrus Corbeau
Place of Birth: Novitski Oasis - Naraka System
Background: Raised on a Silo67 Wheat Belt, Cyrus Corbeau came from humble beginnings. Working with his father, Luther Corbeau, at a young age he became fascinated with the trade ships coming and going, he often imagined the exciting journies and vast beauties of the universe that these truckers would see.
He longed to escape the dusty drudgery of the wheat farms.
Much to his fathers chagrin, who wished him to take over the wheat farm, Krow took a menial job in processing and packaging so he could be closer to the large Haulers, even if it was only in the interior of the cargo holds.
Eventually he befriended a regular visiting trade Commander, Leonard "Tincan" Cooper, who saw himself in the young Cyrus and loaned him a Sidewinder to help get him started.
Cyrus has since made good on his loan and is currently trading in his Lakon 9 trade ship (The Fat Yak).
Cyrus Corbeau still regularly trades with the Naraka System as it benefits his family business and gives him the opportunity to visit his family in his down time.
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HALLO
I am pilot from small planet my parent BOTH DEAD was shot by the dictator who control everything i was hide in the roof for 3 day night before i was felt brave to come down and also I was ned foods.
I running maximum sped to my uncle house he was bled from laser gun on the floor VARY CLOSE TO DIEING I put head in my hands and say 'wat is happen uncle?' he say 'shrub, everything here is finish'
my uncle was BEFORE name MACHETE SOLO maybe you know was #1 top space pilot in universe he give me keys to plane also 1000 credits say 'shrub you must go from here IS NOT SAFE FOR YOU go to the space and stay hide keep quiet no drama make money in simple honest way DONT BE PIRAT love evry person but if they attack you no reason or say lie about trade deal you must defend honour of the family and fight to deth'
I was say 'yes uncle machete I don't disappointing you RIP in pece' and he was die in my hands.
then I look the key for plane, I put credits in pocket I look my uncle small tear coming but I stop to cry become strong and I walk with angry face to the plane....
my uncle was bled from laser gun too. i know that feel bro.
What is one thing Buck Rogers, Austin Powers and Phillip J. Fry have in common......
Find out when I write about how a alternative version of myself from the year 2014 ended up in the year 3300.
Find out when I write about how a alternative version of myself from the year 2014 ended up in the year 3300.
quick summary of mine
Dimitri Gorokovsky was born near slavery working for the communists, into a family of engineers and a clockmakers. when around 7 his father was taken from him and placed in a "intellectual prison" so they could force him into working on their frame shift systems. Dr. Gorokovsky Sr. Died year 3280 Oct. 7. around when Dimitri Gorokovsky was 15. This made a everlasting impression and change in Dimitri. when he was 19 he left his only family member a distant cousin to leave the communist system with the little money he had himself smuggled out and into a federal system. He saved up invested in trading and grew millions. now he is headed for making his own corporation and secretly waging war against the government that killed his dad and later his family because he wanted more money for his inventions.
Dimitri Gorkovsky, believer in might is right. - The Olgarich
Dimitri Gorokovsky was born near slavery working for the communists, into a family of engineers and a clockmakers. when around 7 his father was taken from him and placed in a "intellectual prison" so they could force him into working on their frame shift systems. Dr. Gorokovsky Sr. Died year 3280 Oct. 7. around when Dimitri Gorokovsky was 15. This made a everlasting impression and change in Dimitri. when he was 19 he left his only family member a distant cousin to leave the communist system with the little money he had himself smuggled out and into a federal system. He saved up invested in trading and grew millions. now he is headed for making his own corporation and secretly waging war against the government that killed his dad and later his family because he wanted more money for his inventions.
Dimitri Gorkovsky, believer in might is right. - The Olgarich
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Meet Commander Jack Cubelord.
Jack's father was a humble trader. Jack always believed that he would inherit his father's trade, and was happy to do so. But that changed one day while his father was on one of his riskier routes.
Jack's father jumped into an abandoned system, and was immediately ambushed by pirates. Equipped with vastly inferior weapons, and well outside the jurisdictions of either the Federation or the Empire, he was quickly killed. Jack was left without a father, and nothing was done to bring the killers to justice.
Distraught and outraged, Jack decided that neither imperial nor federal law enforcement could be trusted to keep the galaxy safe. With his father's meager savings he bought a second-hand Sidewinder, and set out to take matters into his own hands.
No, killing criminals wouldn't bring his father back. No, he couldn't nearly hope to rid the galaxy of evil. But if he could ensure that even one father returns home to his family, Jack would be satisfied.
Of course that's not to say Jack doesn't also enjoy the money he can make off of the bounties he collects. He's not entirely selfless.
Jack's father was a humble trader. Jack always believed that he would inherit his father's trade, and was happy to do so. But that changed one day while his father was on one of his riskier routes.
Jack's father jumped into an abandoned system, and was immediately ambushed by pirates. Equipped with vastly inferior weapons, and well outside the jurisdictions of either the Federation or the Empire, he was quickly killed. Jack was left without a father, and nothing was done to bring the killers to justice.
Distraught and outraged, Jack decided that neither imperial nor federal law enforcement could be trusted to keep the galaxy safe. With his father's meager savings he bought a second-hand Sidewinder, and set out to take matters into his own hands.
No, killing criminals wouldn't bring his father back. No, he couldn't nearly hope to rid the galaxy of evil. But if he could ensure that even one father returns home to his family, Jack would be satisfied.
Of course that's not to say Jack doesn't also enjoy the money he can make off of the bounties he collects. He's not entirely selfless.
This is a character that I have used since I played Elite on the C64, and has moved on through the years of gaming in all manners of space games.
Name: Archer "Doubleback" Mc'Ginty
Age : Unknown - Approximately mid 40's
Last reported location: Freeport Starport.
Bounty: Rising daily!
I am Archer "Doubleback" Mc'Ginty, Pirate of the Freeport. I don't remember much of my youth, only that I started working aboard Bounty Hunter ships out of Freeport around the age of 12. I found I had an affinity with piloting fast attack craft, especially at high speeds and tights turns.
It was on my first mission as pilot of a heap of junk that I earned my name "Doubleback". There is nothing like hiding in asteroid field and waiting on freighters running contraband to outer system stations for quick credits, they were always the best prey.
With my skills, I could come in from behind, take out there main engines and then "Doubleback" and come in for the kill before the ship crew even knew what hit'em. This is the tactics I am famous for and utilize to my best ability each and every day whilst in space. I know time is against me and I know I shall not be one of the old pilots telling war stories in Freeport Starport bar, but this is something I embrace, not fear. For the day shall eventually come when I am no more than matter floating in space myself.
Need my services, you shall find me in Freeport with my friends Aina Jardins and Jack Blade - Buy us a round or two, and if the credits are right, you may have some extra friends riding shotgun for your next mission.
Archer "Doubleback" Mc'Ginty, Commander of the Lady Jane "I find it rude to laugh, when I have multi-cannons aimed at your head"
Name: Archer "Doubleback" Mc'Ginty
Age : Unknown - Approximately mid 40's
Last reported location: Freeport Starport.
Bounty: Rising daily!
I am Archer "Doubleback" Mc'Ginty, Pirate of the Freeport. I don't remember much of my youth, only that I started working aboard Bounty Hunter ships out of Freeport around the age of 12. I found I had an affinity with piloting fast attack craft, especially at high speeds and tights turns.
It was on my first mission as pilot of a heap of junk that I earned my name "Doubleback". There is nothing like hiding in asteroid field and waiting on freighters running contraband to outer system stations for quick credits, they were always the best prey.
With my skills, I could come in from behind, take out there main engines and then "Doubleback" and come in for the kill before the ship crew even knew what hit'em. This is the tactics I am famous for and utilize to my best ability each and every day whilst in space. I know time is against me and I know I shall not be one of the old pilots telling war stories in Freeport Starport bar, but this is something I embrace, not fear. For the day shall eventually come when I am no more than matter floating in space myself.
Need my services, you shall find me in Freeport with my friends Aina Jardins and Jack Blade - Buy us a round or two, and if the credits are right, you may have some extra friends riding shotgun for your next mission.
Archer "Doubleback" Mc'Ginty, Commander of the Lady Jane "I find it rude to laugh, when I have multi-cannons aimed at your head"
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Here is my Bio
Name: Lord Crono Maxwell (Of the House of Maxwell Clan )
Occupation: Trading and Mining
Sex: Male
Backstory: Being from a moderate sized trading house setting out to making an claim for himself and a good name for the clan house, Willing to make a profit wherever he goes he may not be the best fighter in the clan but he knows how to get himself out of the situation the easy way. Starting with an small bank fund he start out on his way to make an profit where he can make it.
well i hope this is good for an start hope to her your guys feedback
Name: Lord Crono Maxwell (Of the House of Maxwell Clan )
Occupation: Trading and Mining
Sex: Male
Backstory: Being from a moderate sized trading house setting out to making an claim for himself and a good name for the clan house, Willing to make a profit wherever he goes he may not be the best fighter in the clan but he knows how to get himself out of the situation the easy way. Starting with an small bank fund he start out on his way to make an profit where he can make it.
well i hope this is good for an start hope to her your guys feedback
Commander Aran,
Freelancer and champion of the underdog, dabbles in most areas but refuses contacts against innocents.
Tries to keep to the law but has a habit of stealing pirate cargos so a bit of smuggling is needed now and then.
Of the three main powers he is firmly on the side of the alliance and although he holds the federation no ill will he disposes slavery and this often puts him at odds with the empire
Freelancer and champion of the underdog, dabbles in most areas but refuses contacts against innocents.
Tries to keep to the law but has a habit of stealing pirate cargos so a bit of smuggling is needed now and then.
Of the three main powers he is firmly on the side of the alliance and although he holds the federation no ill will he disposes slavery and this often puts him at odds with the empire
===============================================================================================
Name: Kyle...*File Corrupted*
Sex: Male
Birthdate: 11/12/3277
Known Alias: Mr Gambler
Origin: Earth, Federation.
Current Status: KIA
Background:
Born and raised in the United Nations of Europe, sector 2, England.
Was *File corrupted.............File corrupted...........File corrupted..............File corrupted.............File corrupted*
Education in lower and higher sets - Standard
Applied for Federation flight school in 3295, passed with honours in 3297.
Joined the Federation Navy.
Service Record:
3 Years in the Federation Navy. Assigned to the HMS Brittania. Successful operation within *File corrupted, led to hasty promotion within the ranks of *File corrupted*. Within the time of service the Alias 'The Gambler' came to fruition, due to his daring combat tactics, this later became know as 'Mr Gambler' as the alias stuck and Kyle *File corrupted* seen it humorous to adopt the name, but place formality onto it at the same time.
During the covert raid of system *File corrupted* servicemen Kyle *File corrupted* disobeyed direct orders from his commanding officer resulting in the missions objective a 'Lakon Type 6' carrying a HVT, to flee from the Federation's forces. His motivation for doing so was and still is unknown.
All efforts to bring the pilot in for a Military trial was met with defiance and opposition regrettably resulting in 'executive order 67' being issued against the pilot. The pilot was tracked down by covert agents on the boundry of Azeban City in the Eranin system. Three civilian haulers were present and become collateral damage, the said pilot was reported present in a sidewinder and was reported destroyed, due to emergency distress signals from civilian haulers the agents did not have time to confirm destruction/death of pilot. Agents however ensure us, that it was not possible for him to have survived. Status will be elevated to KIA.
===============================================================================================
My characters service report As you can see my character certainly survied the attempted assassination.. Now to rebuild a new life for my character.
Name: Kyle...*File Corrupted*
Sex: Male
Birthdate: 11/12/3277
Known Alias: Mr Gambler
Origin: Earth, Federation.
Current Status: KIA
Background:
Born and raised in the United Nations of Europe, sector 2, England.
Was *File corrupted.............File corrupted...........File corrupted..............File corrupted.............File corrupted*
Education in lower and higher sets - Standard
Applied for Federation flight school in 3295, passed with honours in 3297.
Joined the Federation Navy.
Service Record:
3 Years in the Federation Navy. Assigned to the HMS Brittania. Successful operation within *File corrupted, led to hasty promotion within the ranks of *File corrupted*. Within the time of service the Alias 'The Gambler' came to fruition, due to his daring combat tactics, this later became know as 'Mr Gambler' as the alias stuck and Kyle *File corrupted* seen it humorous to adopt the name, but place formality onto it at the same time.
During the covert raid of system *File corrupted* servicemen Kyle *File corrupted* disobeyed direct orders from his commanding officer resulting in the missions objective a 'Lakon Type 6' carrying a HVT, to flee from the Federation's forces. His motivation for doing so was and still is unknown.
All efforts to bring the pilot in for a Military trial was met with defiance and opposition regrettably resulting in 'executive order 67' being issued against the pilot. The pilot was tracked down by covert agents on the boundry of Azeban City in the Eranin system. Three civilian haulers were present and become collateral damage, the said pilot was reported present in a sidewinder and was reported destroyed, due to emergency distress signals from civilian haulers the agents did not have time to confirm destruction/death of pilot. Agents however ensure us, that it was not possible for him to have survived. Status will be elevated to KIA.
===============================================================================================
My characters service report
As you can see my character certainly survied the attempted assassination.. Now to rebuild a new life for my character.
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Growing up Rill was never a people person, she preferred the quiet solitude of her taped together sidewinder with its old decorated tree from a forgotten time stuck to the console, much more than the polished interior of the family Lakon.
Working for the family business "Bluecube Logistics" provided her with the credits she needed and enough excitement to keep her trigger finger happy and although she never got this fascination for trading, but she knew it made good money.
It was all going well until the family bet big on a random contract to carry a huge shipment of computer components to Eranin, it didn't make sense to her why they were paying so well, but cash flow was cash flow in the family eyes and they needed cash to keep going.
The contract was a trap, set up by a rival firm that had enough of their expansion and gains. Deep in the Eranin system, the family was ambushed. Rill managed to take out the escort wing, but the Anaconda was too greater foe for her already beaten sidewinder.
After managing to disable their engines at the cost of her canopy, Rill bugged out in time to see the family obliterated in a volley of railgun fire before escaping to a nearby outpost with seconds to spare.
Now flying under the company name with a 1000 credits in her pocket, Rill acts as a bounty hunter / gun for hire, her morals questionable, her resolve steadfast, she flies the void searching one day for something greater or at worst, just another pay cheque.
Working for the family business "Bluecube Logistics" provided her with the credits she needed and enough excitement to keep her trigger finger happy and although she never got this fascination for trading, but she knew it made good money.
It was all going well until the family bet big on a random contract to carry a huge shipment of computer components to Eranin, it didn't make sense to her why they were paying so well, but cash flow was cash flow in the family eyes and they needed cash to keep going.
The contract was a trap, set up by a rival firm that had enough of their expansion and gains. Deep in the Eranin system, the family was ambushed. Rill managed to take out the escort wing, but the Anaconda was too greater foe for her already beaten sidewinder.
After managing to disable their engines at the cost of her canopy, Rill bugged out in time to see the family obliterated in a volley of railgun fire before escaping to a nearby outpost with seconds to spare.
Now flying under the company name with a 1000 credits in her pocket, Rill acts as a bounty hunter / gun for hire, her morals questionable, her resolve steadfast, she flies the void searching one day for something greater or at worst, just another pay cheque.
Commander Thomas ‘Knuckles’ Norton started his early working life straight out of school. He had dropped out as it didn’t really agree with him. He persuaded one of the local techy kids in his class to amend (forge) his DOB, there was no force involved, only the threat of force.
So at fourteen, Knuckles, broke out to the stars as a deck hand on a long range hauler running cargo between the same four star systems for the next five years. During that time he learned a useful apprenticeship, for a lad that had not taken to schooling well he found he’d a natural aptitude for astronavigation and other line duties. At the time he was not a drinking man and in those first year of working long haul he’d save a sizable lump of credits.
With cash he thought he would take a couple of years out and get a proper education. He managed to scrape a degree in Line Duties 101, but it was enough. With his new found accreditation he was able to get work with a large passenger line as a third officer. There was a big hike in pay from being a hand. He soon settled into the work, his proficiency showed and promotion followed. After 12 years he was master of his own ship, The Lady of Ruan, a craft capable of taking 800 passengers in relative comfort, she was foreman built and her first class lounges were the envy of every other master in the company. For four year Norton ran the Lady swift and true, then war broke out.
Norton found himself and his crew drafted into the Merchant Service. The Lady was converted into a troop transport, her finely crafted walnut panelling covered over with blast resistant composite. The soft furnishings were replaced with row upon row of High G seating.
It wasn’t long after outfitting that Norton and his crew were pressed into service. An ill-fated expeditionary force had gotten stranded on a small planet under heavy assault from the enemy. Due to her streamlined hull the Lady was sent in to pick up the troops from the ground and carry them onto the larger military carriers. Four trips she made to the surface, saving nearly six thousand souls in thirty two hours. On the third trip down Norton’s crew were ready to mutiny, these were not Navy folk and had not expected to be involved in the level of sustained fire they were receiving. The sight of bleeding and mutilated women and men on the deck of the ship had gotten too much for many of the crew. Knuckles, that day, earned great respect. He rallied his crew with a rousing speech, some disgruntled members later murmured that the only thing rousing was that Norton had threatened to throw anyone out of the airlock that didn’t want to return to the surface.
That episode took its toll, Norton hit the bottle heavily after that, rum became his closest companion. The next three years of war were pretty uneventful, transporting troops between one place or another. The Lady was a fast ship and could outrun large military craft, quick fighters didn’t have much chance of doing her harm before she had a chance to jump to safety. When it was over The Lady was converted back to her former glory, Knuckles it was never the same, though working the line was far more agreeable than dodging enemy assault craft.
At fifty-one he was forced to retire, Norton had complained that he still had four years to go before compulsory retirement. Unfortunately his records still stated that he was four years younger than what he really was. So he took his pension and his savings and decided to setup on his own, he’s put a small deposit down on a Type 6. With this he’s hoping to make enough so that one day he can afford his own liner and get back to the work he loves.
.
So at fourteen, Knuckles, broke out to the stars as a deck hand on a long range hauler running cargo between the same four star systems for the next five years. During that time he learned a useful apprenticeship, for a lad that had not taken to schooling well he found he’d a natural aptitude for astronavigation and other line duties. At the time he was not a drinking man and in those first year of working long haul he’d save a sizable lump of credits.
With cash he thought he would take a couple of years out and get a proper education. He managed to scrape a degree in Line Duties 101, but it was enough. With his new found accreditation he was able to get work with a large passenger line as a third officer. There was a big hike in pay from being a hand. He soon settled into the work, his proficiency showed and promotion followed. After 12 years he was master of his own ship, The Lady of Ruan, a craft capable of taking 800 passengers in relative comfort, she was foreman built and her first class lounges were the envy of every other master in the company. For four year Norton ran the Lady swift and true, then war broke out.
Norton found himself and his crew drafted into the Merchant Service. The Lady was converted into a troop transport, her finely crafted walnut panelling covered over with blast resistant composite. The soft furnishings were replaced with row upon row of High G seating.
It wasn’t long after outfitting that Norton and his crew were pressed into service. An ill-fated expeditionary force had gotten stranded on a small planet under heavy assault from the enemy. Due to her streamlined hull the Lady was sent in to pick up the troops from the ground and carry them onto the larger military carriers. Four trips she made to the surface, saving nearly six thousand souls in thirty two hours. On the third trip down Norton’s crew were ready to mutiny, these were not Navy folk and had not expected to be involved in the level of sustained fire they were receiving. The sight of bleeding and mutilated women and men on the deck of the ship had gotten too much for many of the crew. Knuckles, that day, earned great respect. He rallied his crew with a rousing speech, some disgruntled members later murmured that the only thing rousing was that Norton had threatened to throw anyone out of the airlock that didn’t want to return to the surface.
That episode took its toll, Norton hit the bottle heavily after that, rum became his closest companion. The next three years of war were pretty uneventful, transporting troops between one place or another. The Lady was a fast ship and could outrun large military craft, quick fighters didn’t have much chance of doing her harm before she had a chance to jump to safety. When it was over The Lady was converted back to her former glory, Knuckles it was never the same, though working the line was far more agreeable than dodging enemy assault craft.
At fifty-one he was forced to retire, Norton had complained that he still had four years to go before compulsory retirement. Unfortunately his records still stated that he was four years younger than what he really was. So he took his pension and his savings and decided to setup on his own, he’s put a small deposit down on a Type 6. With this he’s hoping to make enough so that one day he can afford his own liner and get back to the work he loves.
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I've got two characters to introduce, I'm still working on them, Kara's pretty much done but I'm trying to wrangle Chris' age still.
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Hi, I'd like to introduce myself. I am Commander Asparien Vierre.
This moment has been a long time coming and is the beginning of what I have dreamed of since I can remember. Where I have come from, I can tell you but where I may end up, only the heavens know.
I was born on an isolated mining colony, far from anything civilised. My mother worked in a bar and after hours, on her back. My father, one of the many miners who came to know her over the years I suppose. I tended to get in the way as a small boy and was frequently encouraged to explore until I was ready to eat and sleep. Thus began my love affair with the unknown.
I came to frequent the waste piles over the years, poring over the discards of an industrial complex. The things they threw away simply blew my mind. How many thousands of credits were simply trashed because it was deemed too much effort to recover? My small mind boggled. It was in the piles that I found my first Personal Data Station. I saw a corner of it sticking through the rubble and cleared it out in short order. I looked it over and found a dented panel on the rear where it seemed that it had been dropped by its careless previous owner. I slung it into my backpack and took off to Raff, the local techie.
I asked him if I could borrow some tools and showed him why. He told me the PDS was one of the latest versions and worth over 1000cr new. If I got it working he told me he would give me 400cr for it. I told him if I got it working it would take me to the stars. Old Raff belly laughed at that and said if I ever made it to the stars he would give me 1000cr and an ale.
I took the dented panel off and saw that the power coupler had fallen off the photon storage unit. I reconnected it and pressed the power button on the side. To my astonishment it powered up! I quickly tapped the dent out of the rear panel and affixed it in place. I couldn't make out what to do next since I hadn't yet learned how to read. Raff let out a long whistle (something he does a lot when he doesn't know what else to say) and helped set it up for me. He said that it would teach me how to read along with anything else I wanted to know. I asked him not to tell my mother since she would take it off me and sell it if she knew. He promised to keep my secret.
It took me 6 months to learn how to read and do basic maths. Then one day I found a lockbox in the waste piles. I spend 3 weeks entering codes until I found the right one and cracked it open. Inside was about two dozen datachips. I tried a few of them in my PDS and found they were a series of instruction manuals for various pieces of industrial units and equipment. I knew these would be the next step in my journey off this rock. I spent every day looking through the vast repositories of data on the chips. I learned how to identify a wide range of industrial processing components as well as what they were for and how they worked. As I learned I started to find some of the various parts in the waste piles. Occasionally I would find something of value and take it to Raff who would always give me credits for it.
I found I had a reasonably good mechanical aptitude and started to piece some of the various modules together. Occasionally they did something. The waste piles were my laboratory and I was the quintessential mad scientist. In all seriousness though, I lived in those piles for close to 9 years before it happened. And when it did, it changed my life.
To be Continued...
Asp
This moment has been a long time coming and is the beginning of what I have dreamed of since I can remember. Where I have come from, I can tell you but where I may end up, only the heavens know.
I was born on an isolated mining colony, far from anything civilised. My mother worked in a bar and after hours, on her back. My father, one of the many miners who came to know her over the years I suppose. I tended to get in the way as a small boy and was frequently encouraged to explore until I was ready to eat and sleep. Thus began my love affair with the unknown.
I came to frequent the waste piles over the years, poring over the discards of an industrial complex. The things they threw away simply blew my mind. How many thousands of credits were simply trashed because it was deemed too much effort to recover? My small mind boggled. It was in the piles that I found my first Personal Data Station. I saw a corner of it sticking through the rubble and cleared it out in short order. I looked it over and found a dented panel on the rear where it seemed that it had been dropped by its careless previous owner. I slung it into my backpack and took off to Raff, the local techie.
I asked him if I could borrow some tools and showed him why. He told me the PDS was one of the latest versions and worth over 1000cr new. If I got it working he told me he would give me 400cr for it. I told him if I got it working it would take me to the stars. Old Raff belly laughed at that and said if I ever made it to the stars he would give me 1000cr and an ale.
I took the dented panel off and saw that the power coupler had fallen off the photon storage unit. I reconnected it and pressed the power button on the side. To my astonishment it powered up! I quickly tapped the dent out of the rear panel and affixed it in place. I couldn't make out what to do next since I hadn't yet learned how to read. Raff let out a long whistle (something he does a lot when he doesn't know what else to say) and helped set it up for me. He said that it would teach me how to read along with anything else I wanted to know. I asked him not to tell my mother since she would take it off me and sell it if she knew. He promised to keep my secret.
It took me 6 months to learn how to read and do basic maths. Then one day I found a lockbox in the waste piles. I spend 3 weeks entering codes until I found the right one and cracked it open. Inside was about two dozen datachips. I tried a few of them in my PDS and found they were a series of instruction manuals for various pieces of industrial units and equipment. I knew these would be the next step in my journey off this rock. I spent every day looking through the vast repositories of data on the chips. I learned how to identify a wide range of industrial processing components as well as what they were for and how they worked. As I learned I started to find some of the various parts in the waste piles. Occasionally I would find something of value and take it to Raff who would always give me credits for it.
I found I had a reasonably good mechanical aptitude and started to piece some of the various modules together. Occasionally they did something. The waste piles were my laboratory and I was the quintessential mad scientist. In all seriousness though, I lived in those piles for close to 9 years before it happened. And when it did, it changed my life.
To be Continued...
Asp