[Characters] Big Damn Heroes

[ruffdove]

Cast of Characters Okay, time to finish up your characters and add them to this thread so that we all have a reference on everyone. Just a few easy steps plus one that I hope at least won't be too difficult. 1) Re-post your application in this thread, but either omit or spoilerbutton your role-playing sample. You may post a picture if you wish, but it's not necessary. 2) If you haven't done so already, finish up your character's mechanics. Ability scores, feats, skills, class feature decisions, etc. You may find it easiest to do this on paper first. Follow these guidelines: Use the standard 10-point-buy for ability sores. Starting money is 1,000 credits, item level 1 or 2 Any credits not spent on gear go onto a credstick in your character's possession, be sure to note that value in the Equipment & Wealth section. Languages: Everyone speaks Taldane, which is a Golarion based common tongue that has become the lingua franca of the Pact Worlds. You can pick more languages (your racial or planetary tongue would make sense), but you don't have to fill out every slot available at level 1. If you have open slots for languages, you may fill one of them every time you gain a level (using advanced techno-magical learning aids). Languages actually play an important role in this campaign and having open slots to fill later on (when you know what languages will be helpful) would be wise. (Note: despite what the rulebook says, there is no Akitonian language. Akiton is so heavily settled by Golarion races that Taldane is the spoken language there.) Remember: all class options, feats, and equipment from the Core Rulebook, the Pact Worlds Guide, and the Armory are open to you. If you only own the Core Rulebook, that's fine. You'll see that there are more than enough options within its pages to field a strong character. Also do an equipment table like this: Total Credits:[/b] ###### Equipment Item Level Bulk Cost ITEM LEVEL BULK COST ITEM LEVEL BULK COST ITEM LEVEL BULK COST ITEM LEVEL BULK COST ITEM LEVEL BULK COST ITEM LEVEL BULK COST ITEM LEVEL BULK COST 3) Now the fun part! Fill out your character sheet and link to it on this thread (and yes, the awesome people at RPGX have created a Starfinder character sheet. I'd actually like you to link to your character sheet in every game post so I have a quick reference. If anyone also wants to do a standard mini-stat block with hit points, AC, spell slots etc, for even easier reference, I would appreciate it! As soon as everyone is done with this part, I will open up the first game thread and we'll get started.

[Imveros]

Name:Dr. Nikto
Race: Human (dusk sight)
Sex: Male
Class: Bio Hacker
Theme: Infamous
Age: 28
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Home World:Verces
Crew Role: Science Officer / Engineer / Gunner
Starship Name: Ultima Adventum

Description:

Nikto stands an unassuming five-foot-ten with the black eyes and the deathly pale skin of all his kind living on the dark side of Verces. He stuffs his oily raven hair under his signature red head covering and conceals his leith body under layers of baggy clothing and shin-length coats. The man believes the pop of color is why it draws so much attention when, in truth, it is the slithering motions easily detected beneath.

The turban hides the man's only distinguishing features. Atop the man's head rests a meter-long tentacle, covered in multihued, pulsing scutes, terminating in a slavering maw. It often sits coiled directly above a third, bloodshot, jade-colored eye tucked just under the brim of the turban.

Background:

Born in a Darkside cloning facility, Nikto and his two-hundred and fifty identical brothers started their educations the moment their eyes all opened in unison. The facility, designed to perfect the human genome, was a sprawling underground facility designed to push the youths to their full potential.

Years later, peacekeeping forces raided the facility and freed the youths, doing their best to place the boys in permanent homes. Despite being placed into a loving home, Nikto strove to differentiate himself from his peers through academic success, precisely as all his siblings had unknowingly done.

Graduating top of his class, he attended the local med corp's training program, along with fifty-two of his brothers. The group banded together with the single-minded goal of achieving perfection. Tests of strength, tests of wit, tests of will, anything the group could devise. All as their creators had programmed them.

A lab accident in his fourth semester untethered him from the group's assigned destiny. A vat of nano chemicals ruptured, cascading over the boy, altering his shared DNA. Initial testing showed no long-term impact, but his body had changed, becoming more flexible, more welcoming to alteration. This discovery altered Nikto in mind as it had in the body. Why focus on macro perfection when he had the opportunity for micro perfection.

For his dissertation, he presented his first self alteration, the flawless grafting of alien flesh into his nervous system. The bloodshot green eye moved of its own volition but was hard wired directly into the boy's memory centers allowing for rapid and complete recall of any subject. He'd smuggled the parts on world and on-campus with contacts from an android he'd met at a faculty mixer. The students listened closely to her tales of adventure, while Nikto listened closely to the abilities of creatures she'd bested. Taken in by his bravado and his credits, she arranged the delivery of a number of exotic specimens.

Upon graduation, he received funding to research his genetic anomaly in an attempt to re-create it. He succeeded in creating the Omni-Annelida but made no progress towards recreating his accident. With his latest deadline approaching, and his latest shipment of exotics freshly arrived, he set upon his most ambitious project to date, using his DNA in an attempt to fuse Dinichthys and Ruthig.

 

Roleplaying Sample:

A doctor by any other name The doors to the courtroom slammed closed behind them as the din of protests raged against the exterior walls. Nikto turned to Yazheara and nudged her shoulder. "Hey Yaz, what do you get when you cross a Dinichthys and Ruthig?" She angrily shoved him away. "You get this Science Inquest! This isn't the time for jokes. Were you not paying any attention in there?! Or out there, for that matter?! By The Divine, Nick. You gotta take this seriously! A brick smashed through the window to accentuate her point. "That's Dr. Nick to you!" "Not anymore it isn't! You really weren't paying any attention in there! That Pure One called for your death THREE TIMES, and the God Vessel said heresy at least five times!" She threw her hands down in frustration. "Ha, yeah, those Verthani are such jokers. Besides, I'm pretty sure that Augmented guy was taking notes the whole time." Dr. Nikto said with a prideful tone. "And that's where you got lucky. I'd call losing your certs and licenses in perpetuity a small price to pay. It was going so well until your friend made an appearance!" She gestured toward his head covering. "I refuse to dignify that with a response!" He said coyly, entering the aero car, as a phalanx of security bots deflected bricks, thrown food, and a small-caliber slug. The pair sat in silence as they returned to the med lab. They smelled it before they saw it. A chemical tang in the air foretold of the towering inferno where the building had once been. "I'm starting to think these people dont like me. All I did was "play God" and "put science before the greater good"" He said with air quotes, attempting to mimic the Inquest's judges. Nikto swallowed hard. "Maybe it's time for a vacation. Cedona had people that could smuggle me exotics on world. Maybe she can smuggle me off it?" "Your first smart move of the day. I'll make the calls." Yazheara said as she scanned the shadows for the arsonists.

A doctor by any other name

[dbaque]

Name: Diego Ragnar Race: Human Sex: Male Class: Envoy (eventually multiclass with soldier) Theme: Law officer Age: 22 Alignment: LG Home World: Absalom Station Crew Role: Captain, Pilot, Gunner (in descending order) Starship Name: The Defiant Description: With the arrival of Diego outside the door of the meeting room, the first thing you notice after his polite nod of greeting are his unusually dark eyes, not a stern gaze, merely one inquisitive & intent, before they soften into a small but friendly smile. Your attention shifts to his young but battle worn features with a deep scar beneath his eye, his trimmed dark hair, and the unobstrusive bearing that brings a sense of ease. When he speaks, his voice is deep, and his words soft yet clear to all in his hearing. When hostile intent becomes evident, gone is the modest bearing, arrived is an intense military officer prepared for war. He stands tall, at just more than six feet, moving with measured strides bespeaking grace and discipline. His lean but coiled frame stands out clearly, even beneath his armored uniform. His hand reflexively hovers by his side, even though no sidearm is visible. Light glints off a metallic sheen on his hand. The officer looks more at home busy on a starship or suited up in his armor, rifle in hand, leading a battalion against some enemy position. Diego is a good-natured soul, always a smile about him, if not a kind word. Armed with a rare silver tongue & a gracious sense of presence about him, his tenacity and determination brook few equals. He is a creature of honor, possessed of a tremendous sense of duty, and courteous with the fair sex. He gives quarter to enemies and genuinely cares for his comrades. Background: Diego was born on the Absalom Station to a family had a long history of military service and law enforcement, numbering plenty of uncles and brothers in both. Therefore, there was little surprise when he enrolled with the Stewards as soon as he was of age. Displaying obvious talent, he could have easily coasted for a cushy cadet assignment, such was not Diego's life. He immediately applied for the elite Anti-Piracy units, the squads that faced off against only the most coordinated raiders and pirates, from the Station even out to the villainous havens in the the Diaspora. The regimen boasted itself to "separate the men from the boys." While nothing so prestigious as graduating at the top of his class, the tenacious young lieutenant distinguished himself enough for assignment in the field. Among the recruits, Diego proved an inspiring presence on the field and in the cockpit. He often pushed his fellows to prevail where they had no business doing so. His career was cut abruptly one day. His enercycle-mounted squad were rushing an enemy position. Diego shoved a comrade out of the way of an incoming rocket. The explosion hit too close, and his cycle was sent flying and crashed hard. While pulled to safety, the wreck left him a number of scars but maimed his right arm. Although Diego received a prosthetic limb, recovery from his wounds, not to mention regaining his old coordination, took quite a bit longer. After months of recovery, Diego finally began to feel back to his old self and ready to see some action. Just as he was deciding whether he was up to returning to full service with the Stewards again, Cedona called him up out of the blue. She was an old contact who helped out on a number of stickier missions. They saved each other's lives more times than he'd like to remember. The offer seemed pretty straightforward. It'd certainly make for some good training before rejoining the Stewards.   Roleplaying Sample: Filling the time while waiting Humming along, the tall officer strides down the hall. Plenty of waiting ... well, awaited anyone in military or law enforcement. 'Hurry up and wait.' An officer learned how to fill the stretches of boredom between the flurries of frenzied activity ... if only to stay sane. Without room at the barracks for a spin on an enercycle or such, the officer settled for some more target practice. Thus, it was that Diego is walking down the hall from a session at the range with a spent rifle over his shoulder. He enjoyed how the weapon handled. He had always preferred ballistic weaponry over laser variant. Diego passes first by the rec. room doorway. A few mechanics are in there. One, a lieutenant, looks like she is disassembling yet another contraption again. Diego's metal hand twitches nervously beneath his glove. He knows she means well, but he would still be little surprised to find himself waiting one day as his arm is reassembled. Walking further down the hall, he hears some chatter from the cantina. Pausing at the doorway, he spies a few squadmates chatting away over drinks. The eclectic mix reminds him of one of those jokes set in a bar. The officer carries the rifle off to stow it at the armory. Rounding back, the officer returns to the cantina, sans rifle, and sits at one of the stools by the bar. With a gesture to the barkeep, he simply says, "Red wine, if you please." Thanking the man, he takes a small sip of the glass. Looking up to the eclectic bunch gathered here, Diego raises a glass and bids in greeting, "Gentlemen."

[FromAbove]

Name: Amahir Harezza Hol Non of Clan Kazil, House Kara-Kazil, inspired vestige of Ronus
Race: Kasatha (standard)
Sex: Male
Class: Vanguard
Theme: Spacefarer
Age: 26
Alignment: NG
Home World: Idari
Crew Role: Chief Mate (unlisted above but in COM--understood if not available for this campaign); Gunner; Captain
Starship Name: The Truth in Action

Description: Medium height but thickly built for a Kasatha. Dark-gray skin with a series of horizontal red stripes down the front of his head to his eyes. Comfortable in armor, especially the traditional armor he grew up wearing while he trained, but increasingly trying to avoid kasathan garb and has been experimenting with his wardrobe. Still wears a scarf to cover the lower half of his face. Until recently, he walked confidently, talked confidently if not especially well, and fought confidently, his bearing defined by the certitude only young people who overestimate their cleverness can muster.

Recent events have shaken that confidence, though only when Amahir has the presence of mind to recall humbling experiences. He probably doesn't recall these experiences often enough, and so it is that he continues to allow himself an intellectual arrogance to which he's completely unentitled. Paired with a short fuse and a limited imagination as regards alternative dispute resolution strategies, he often finds himself in avoidable conflicts.

Embarrassing lack of self-awareness aside, part of what attracted Amahir toward a philosophy of change was genuine horror at the misery in which some of the Pact Worlds' inhabitants reside and a compassion for others arguably atypical for his people marks much of what he's tried to make of his life in recent years. This compassion drives his restlessness and inspired his first feelings of dissatisfaction with kasathan tradition that were something other than mere youthful rebelliousness. He's naturally protective not just of friends but strangers, too, and while not all the pleasure he takes in being a skilled fighter can be put down to selfless motives--there's plenty of narcissistic pride in simply being quite good at swinging a sword--the greater part of his joy in his own skill stems from his capacity to protect those in need.

Background: The day she discovered the tattoo on the underside of her son's lower-left forearm, Amahir's mother—Kalveska Sirahan Hol Saya of Clan Kazil, she of the prodigious continuity—became convinced her son was the victim of a heinous curse: A penchant for nonconformity, probably all to do with his no-good Aunt Ninura (father’s side, naturally).

Her son grew up schooled in many of the best traditions of kasathan education even though House Kara-Kazil were hardly one of the greatest of the Houses. Unfortunately, he took little from most of his lessons but a few aphorisms on self-reliance and suspicion of the curious decision that his ancestors had made not to go to war on arrival in the Pact Worlds. In his combat lessons, on the other hand—in those, his soul sang to the point that his trainers eventually persuaded one of the Talayet mystics who'd endeavored to teach the boy something of the Storyteller's grandeur to read Amahir's soul; much to her own surprise, the mystic found the sturdy young man seemed to have a connection with Ronus, a semi-legendary swordsman famed for shielding small kasathan settlements from pirate and monster attacks back on Kasath.

Then, in his early teens, circumstances conspired to place Amahir in his Aunt Ninura's starship for a trip to Absalom Station, and everything changed. The trip exposed him for the first time to life outside the Idari, and though it wouldn't be right to say he fell in love with it, it did interest him. He maintained correspondence with Ninura and from it was inspired to start to think about things semi-independently for the first time, which in turn encouraged in him an unfortunate pseudo-intellectual smugness. From later travel with her, he started putting together ideas for his Tempering, which suddenly was fast approaching. He also made the acquaintance of an android named Cedona, apparently a trusted friend of Ninura's, and attempted to keep up a similar correspondence with her, but he only ever received a couple of replies back from her to his couple dozen messages to her.

Unfortunately, he would squander his Tempering. On one of his last trips out with Ninura back to Absalom Station, Amahir met a skilled fighter from Castrovel, an elf who claimed to be a student of the ways of Oras. The elf, who called himself Rhamuel, had a unique way of fighting that relied on channeling the very energy of battle into raw power. He spoke of the power of change, its inevitability, the fundamental truth of entropy, and Amahir--who had recently seen squalid Akitonian shantytowns, junkpicker kids barely clinging to life in the Spike, android slaves on luxury ships rounding the Burning Mother--was sold. When Amahir sought the man out on his Tempering, nearly all that followed was nothing but disappointment and lies. Yet Amahir persevered and taught himself from what he remembered of sparring with Rhamuel. He also chanced to find a single text at the Church that wasn't phony and that contained hints of the power of focused entropy alongside its philosophy, much of which was over Amahir's head, and he learned from it what he could.

He returned to Idari at the end of his failed studies, which coincided neatly with the end of his Tempering. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do next, but a few days later the family learned Ninura had died months earlier on a starship that had become stranded in the Vast and had only recently been located. Before she'd died, she'd recorded a message recovered with her body; although most of it was for closer family, she had a single message pertaining to her nephew Amahir: "Contact Cedona and tell her I call in my favor on your behalf."

Amahir made contact and this time the reply was almost automatic. Passage was arranged for him to Verces, plans were in place for a ship, for trips to a distant colony--head spinning, Amahir boarded the vessel taking him to destiny, a million lessons still to be learned with no time to study.

The tattoo, by the way, was supposed to have been the Shirren word for “DECENCY.” In fact, it reads “DECEDENT.” Amahir remains completely oblivious to the error.

 

Roleplaying Sample: These offworld hunters taking rare game in a restricted area are completely and totally honest. For sure.

Hunting Poachers A half a day's tracking had the group closing on their quarry, or so the mystic said. Amahir wanted to press on but the brighter of the two suns--predominant this time of year--had burnt the others' resolve down. Camp was made in the shadow of a cluster of taller bushes by the stream and, as was his habit, the kasathan fighter set to polishing first his longsword and then his parrying dagger before he allowed himself water. When the others suggested they stretch their rest out, Amahir assented but volunteered to scout ahead. A half an hour later, he heard two voices coming up from beneath the edge of a short cliffside. The poachers? He considered returning to tell the others, but reasoning that the whole point of his errand was to scout, he instead crept forward as quietly as his armor would allow. He made it to within fifteen feet of the lip of the escarpment before the voices suddenly stopped. The deeper of the two voices, somehow both raspy and gurgling, called out. "Who's up there!?" Amahir put a hand on the pommel of his longsword and continued forward. The other voice, softer and gentler: "We're armed and know how to shoot. You'd do well to turn around." The blade came out just before Amahir arrived at the edge of the cliff and saw an unusually chubby vesk and a lean, hard-faced human, both evidently male. "I run from no poachers. Lay down your weapons and surrender yourselves or face immediate judgment." The vesk reached for his rifle but the human held out a hand to stop him. "Poachers? I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding. My associate and I--well, it wouldn't quite be right to say we're from here. But we've lived here for... Oh, I don't know. A dozen years? We're colonists. Were colonists, I mean to say. Our colony failed some time ago. Perhaps you've heard of it? Uh... Veskuman?" Amahir kept his sword at the ready and began rehearsing the forms of his opening strike in his mind. "I have not." The vesk seemed to be relaxing, which Amahir reckoned was in his favor. The human carried on. "Well, we've been out here for ages, scrabbling together a bare existence, clinging to a thin lifeline of survival..." "You lie. Vartech's representative said a human and a vesk were poaching exotic, endangered creatures out here, victimizing the locals when they get in your way and denying them their livelihood. I'm meant to bring you in alive." The human looked deeply offended. "Victimizing? Victimizing? Well, I can't... Listen friend, if there are victims here, it's my associate and me. You know how those big companies are. Veskuman--our home--was sponsored by a rival firm. Vartech... Well, they just want to be rid of any trace of us. Monopoly power. Ickerad and I, we're just pawns in their game." Amahir had been preparing to leap but suddenly froze, his eyes narrowing. He had been suspicious of that corporate shill and his froufrou sandwiches back at base. Had he been duped? Had they all been duped? Fury boiled within him. He could feel his pulse begin to throb in each of his four wrists, the same familiar singing in his blood. Made a fool of again... But then two things happened. First, he remembered something the spy had recently told him. "Listen kid, you're... Well, I wouldn't say this to most people, but maybe trust your first instincts before your careful reflections. For now." Second, the human shifted his stance such that his boots for the first time came into view, and Amahir recognized them as the extremely flash and very contemporary boots he'd been eying on Absalom Station the last time they'd been back. "A dozen years out here yet you wear the very latest in fine footwear? You predatious scum. How dare you beseech me with lies?" His voice rose, his eyes flashed. "There will be no taking of prisoners. You die now!" Somewhere behind him, he heard the voice of the spy as the rest of the group scurried up after him. "Oh, not this again. I knew we couldn't leave him alone..."

[Kenjitsu]

WIP by my 16yo daughter

Name: Pete
Race: Worlanisis
Sex: Male
Class: Precog
Theme: Quartermaster
Age: 10
Alignment: CG
Home World: Worlan
Crew Role: Mystic Officer/Gunner

---

Description: While Pete does have an athletic build, showcasing his four arms, he only stands barely three feet tall. He has two horn-cones growing out of either side of his head, which might have looked intimidating if they were sharp, but they are more like concentric rings. Wearing simple everyday clothes, the Worlanisi looks more like at artisan than a soldier even though he does carry a laser rifle for protection. But it is because he is a Worlanisi that people like having him around because everyone thinks he will bring them good luck. To be honest, Pete himself has grown up believing in his inborn lucky trait that drives his optimistic attitude that everything happens for a reason and even significant downturns in fortune are just blessings in disguise.

Background:: When 1P3t3R115 turned 8, he was considered a man on his home planet of Worlan. When he joined a group of mercenaries that were passing by, the group ended up calling him Pete and the name just stuck. Over the next year, he became proficient at combat, but specifically grew in the art of logistics. He was able to always have created the right tool for the job just when it was needed. He became good friends with the ship's engineer and learned a lot about how to make and maintain things.

After a particularly nasty job, Pete was the only one to survive by escaping on an automated transport that was heading to Nakondis. Upon arriving at the settlement of Madelon's Landing, Pete's good fortune immediately became apparent when he was welcomed to join them after he told them he was a Quartermaster and could help fix and make whatever they needed. For the past year he has worked along side the people of Madelon's Landing and brought his flavor of good luck to everything he worked on, always having just created the right part or tool for the job just before it was needed. Some would say that his luck turned the day their settlement was invaded, but Pete kept a positive attitude saying it was just a blessing in disguise. Of course he became one of the rebels because honestly, who knew what was going to happen to their settlement or them.

---

Equipment	Item Level	Bulk	Cost
Armor - Second Skin (Crafted)	1	L	225
Armor Upgrade - Infrared Sensors (Crafted)	1	-	180
Weapon - Laser Rifle (Crafted, Azimuth)	1	1	405
Weapon - Tactical Baton (Crafted)	1	L	81
Armorer Toolkit	1	L	20
Standard Battery (20)	1	L	60
Everyday Clothing (Crafted)	1	L	1
Consumer Backpack (Crafted)	1	L	3
UPB	25	L	25
Credstick (0 balance)	1	-	0

 

Pete (1P3t3R115)

[OneDarkness]

Application Form Name: Emmery Miles Race: Human Sex: Male Class: Mechanic Theme: Ace Pilot Age: 27 Alignment: NG Home World: Absalom Station Crew Role: Pilot / Engineer Starship Name: No Worries Character Sheet: HERE Description: Emmery at first glance is nothing too out of the ordinary as far as humans go with his height around six feet with a more lean build to him, darker skin and eyes that are rounded out with some light facial hair. Perhaps one of his more distinctive features is how he keeps his hair in dreadlocks, that hang loosely just past his shoulders though he isn't above tying them back when he needs to. For the most part he dresses in what he calls mechanic casual, which is some heavy duty cargo pants and long sleeve shirt, tool sheath on one side and pistol on the other depending on the environment he is in. For the more keen eyed folks or those that have been around him long enough to have seen it, his right arm is a prosthetic, but you wouldn't know it from the way it blends and moves. Short of him removing it in front of you or it being damaged you would have no clue that it was anything but the arm he was born with. Emmery is one of the most casual drama free people you are likely to encounter, he has zero preconceived notions about things and willingly accepts people for who they are without batting an eye. He doesn't hold a grudge and is more along the lines of forgive and forget, willing to give second or third chances depending on the circumstances. He doesn't enjoy being in the lime light, preferring small gatherings of friends and doesn't put any great stake in wealth or rank outside of what is required of his employment for a contract. He would risk his life and soul for a friend in need, few have ever found a reason to dislike him but if you have made an enemy of Emmery for some reason you have really done something wrong with your life and you should go rethink your life choices. Background: Emmery is the only son of Marcus and Shira Miles, who were a mechanic and administrator respectively, and grew up living and breathing the life of the Arms at Absalom Station. Sure he visited the Armada, the Ring and even the Eye a handful of times but honestly none of them were anywhere near as exciting or interesting as the hustle and bustle of the Arms with all its comings and goings. He learned the mechanic trade from his father at a young age and showed a natural aptitude for it that his father was more than happy to foster, though he favored working the computer systems more than the mechanical bits he was no slouch in that regard either. His passion admittedly though was piloting, and not just skiffs and ships but just about anything that could move whether it was of its own volution or he had to get it going. It got his blood pumping and made him feel alive, got him a bit of a thrill seeker label from those who knew him but there was nothing wrong with that in his mind, for what was life without a little bit of edge of your seat style fun. When he was old enough he started piloting transports in around the area for AbadarCorp, it wasn't exciting work but it let him do what he did best, and he maintained an exemplary record of never missing a deadline which opened up other opportunities for him but he had little interest in climbing the corporate ladder. Instead he used his performance record to get himself assigned to more interesting piloting opportunities out in deeper space, which tended to be less bulk and passenger freighters and more streamlined multiuse vessels. This was certainly more his style, it got him out into space for longer periods and had the side bonus of being much more interesting as well with all the new worlds and species he was introduced too, credits were only worth so much in his books it was the life experiences which drove him. After a few years he built up enough of a reputation that he decided to strike out on his own as a freelance Pilot or Engineer for those ships that needed a spot filled, taking contracts moving vessels around as needed or joining survey missions that needed a pilot, or even providing personal transport services for those that needed to get somewhere quicker than standard passenger services would allow for. One such personal transport service was for Cedona who needed a pilot willing to transport her into the asteroid laden space of Diaspora, certainly not an area for the faint of heart or your standard destination for transport services so needless to say Emmery jumped on the opportunity. This was the type of piloting challenge that Emmery lived for, and he proved his worth more than a few times along the way between dodging asteroids and other stellar debris, to shaking off some pirates that had picked up their trail. Needless to say Cedona was impressed and has contacted Emmery often after that contract for other piloting opportunities for Cedona or friends of Cedona, so when Cedona contacted Emmery about a piloting a newly acquired ship for a supply run from Verces to Nakondis he happily agreed and was on route. Roleplaying Sample: Emmery made his way casually across the busy concourse towards the docks, one of countless other spacers going about their day to day lives, just keeping his head up and walking like he knew where he was going. It was often the best way to avoid standing out, especially if you were heading somewhere you weren't supposed to be. He had been sent to reclaim a skiff that was well behind on its payments and while the company was most certainly allowed to reclaim their property, sometimes the client wasn't exactly keen on giving it back. Lucky for him he had seen Jim-Bob and his two thugs lock up and head down towards Specks, a drinking spot not far away, and I am sure they counted on the locks and their reputation to keep most of the riff raff away from their skiff but today was not their day. Stopping next to the security panel he casually pulled out a comms device as if he was checking something and just happened to lean against the wall here but used his stance and position of things to casually connect a cable to the panel. "Alright Zen lets see what we are up against shall we, keep an eye out for me." Zen was his exocortex and was always on the lookout regardless of Emmery asking him to do so, it freed Emmery up to focus on one thing while Zen kept watch for him. It wasn't too difficult for Emmery to gain access to and override the locks on the door and even bypass the alarm code that would have notified Jim-Bob that the door had been opened, so with a satisfying pressure release the door slid open and Emmery popped on through. The door closing behind him and the lock restored. "See Zen, no worries, all we have to do now is undock and get the hell out of here." It was a small ship, from the specs he was given, 2 crew quarters, 1 cargo bays, one common area and the bridge. Easy enough for him to fly on his own, slipping into the pilot's chair he started firing things up and plotting his course to the company shipyards. Retracted the docking clamps and gently fired the reverse thrusters to push him away from the docks so that he could get the space he needed to turn this ship around and get out of here. He noticed during system checks that the power draw was greater than he had expected and wondered if there were some faulty relays causing an issue, something he logged for his report when he docked but when he checked the cameras in the cargo hold it was something else altogether. It looked like some sort of bio lab but even more concerning were what looked like four cryo tubes along the back wall that appeared to be occupied. He hadn't seen any sign that Jim-Bob was into any sort of tech, as word was he was a simple low tier smuggler and thug, but this looked like something else altogether. "Zen what have we gotten ourselves into now...."

[Dylan Scott]

Application Name: Valaras Kase Race: Android (Terran) Sex: Male Class: Technomancer Theme: Battle Medic Age: 112 (Appears 40) Alignment: Practical Neutrality Home World: Reverie / Bretheda Crew Role: Science Officer/Magic Officer Starship Name: The Weaver Character Sheet: Here Description: Although over a century old, Valaras looks the same as he did the day he stepped out of the foundry, a tall lithe Human around 40 years old standing around 6' tall with short midnight black hair and goatee, meticulously groomed and styled. His eyes an intense Ice Blue over an Aquiline nose. Despite his recent profession as a racer and pilot, Valaras still dresses in a very formal and elegant fashion, having the appearance of a business man or diplomat more than a Starship pilot. this is an inherent tendency implanted in his personality by the Technomancers, he was their representative when he left Reverie and he feels like he would be dishonouring them and himself if he looked or sounded anything less than his best in both appearance and vocabulary. His voice is a rich deep bass and he speaks in a very calm and controlled manner at all times, although he also socially inept and prone to being very blunt and matter of fact about things which can often come across as cold and callous and at times inappropriate Despite his appearance and his cultural and linguistic abilities though, Valaras still suffers from the same social inhibitions as his fellow androids, he might look the part but he is no diplomat and struggles to understand social etiquette and emotions like a lot of his race. he is still confused by biological creatures mental and emotion reactions to things and is much happier piloting a ship through the blackness of space or travelling through the Drift than he is interacting with inferior biological creatures and their petty wants and needs Using his limited Technomancy abilities, Valaras is able to adjust and adapt his clothing how he wishes and favours a reinforced EJ Industrial Coverall Suit over a Second skin, which he has adjusted to appear as a dark black suit and long jacket while retaining its protective properties, the only embellishments on this (or any of his outfits) are a crystal Pin on his left breast and the Ornate Datapad one his left forearm which appears to be encased in a custom vine line patterned silver case circling his forearm. The Datapad is quite ordinary in fact but the ornate vinelike casing surrounding it and his arm is actually his Sage Drone Delta in a disguised mode using a transformation matrix modification and this is how he commonly carries the drone when it is not operating independently. Background: Orbiting the world of Bretheda, Reverie had existed for centuries, Until one Day, it didn't. No One knows where it went, or what had happened to it. One night it simply vanished from the sky. For most people this was just a curiosity, it was just a small asteroid after all. But to some who knew the truth it was a much greater mystery. Unknown to the Vast majority of Bretheda (and the galaxy in general), The Asteroid dubbed Reverie actually held a manned underground facility of Technomancers who made it their home and repository of their knowledge. These scholars and mystics never left Reverie, and all deliveries and supplies were collected by Android Servants they had created in their foundries. One of these Androids was Valaras Kase. For over a century (until the Asteroids disappearance 10 years ago) Valaras acted as a pilot and trader for the Technomancer's, he was built for a specific purpose as were all his kin, His was Linguistics, Transport and Medical Aid and he was very good at it. Kase never knew exactly which Technomancer developed his personality and skills but whoever it was had outdone themselves, Kase was a proficient Pilot and an Exceptionally Skilled Linguist and Medic, so much so in fact that the Technomancer's gave him more autonomy than others in their possession and even started to teach the Android the art of Drone Technomancy to make him more efficient at his job, being sent further and further afield to collect not only food and supplies for the community but to collect important Technomantic Tomes and Artefact's from other Guilds on their behalf, and provide medical treatment when needed. It was during one of those assignments that Reverie disappeared, Kase and his Sage Drone, Delta had just delivered some artefacts to another guild house several sectors away and when they returned, they discovered that the Asteroid was gone. Scans of the area showed no signs of debris or rock, no signs of a struggle or energy trails to suggest the asteroid had moved, it had simply Vanished. For the first time since his "Birth" Valaras Kase was alone in the world with no one to report to, Just Him, His companion Drone Delta and the small transport shuttle he was using at the time, The Weaver. Initial enquiries on Trillidiem proved useless, no one knew what had happened to the Asteroid and didn't believe him when he said their was a facility on it and people missing, he would have to find them on his own. But such a search would take a long time and although as an Android his needs were fewer than other species, he would still need funds to aid his search and survive in the world. So Valaras fell back onto the only profession he knew, he was a pilot and he had a small shuttle. he will fluent in several languages and had a centuries worth of practical cultural knowledge about space, how hard could it be to make a living on his own? Harder than he had expected it turned out, with no Technomancer Guild to supply and repair his shuttle he found that the costs for repairs and fuel were hard to cover through normal means and he found himself turning to more and more shady deals and activities to fund his search, turning his piloting skills into racing skills, something he had a mild talent for. he was starting to build up a nice little nest-egg to repair the Weaver and continue his searches for Reverie but there was a limit on how long a shuttle like the weaver could be patched and repaired and still survive the stress and rigours of racing and longer than recommended transport flights, and a string of losses and debts forced his hand and Valaras Lost the Weaver. Now Ship-less and practically credit-less as well, He decided that it might be time to seek his fortunes somewhere else and using all but his last few credits booked himself passage on a small transport heading to the Vast and the Nakondis Colony in hopes of finding work. It was this very flight which would introduce him to the Android Cedona, who would recognise his true skills as more than a pilot

Roleplay Sample   Situation: Valaras and Cedona Meet and Save the Passengers Not for the first time, Valaras looked out of the view port window beside his seat on the transport and watched the scenery flashing past disappear, changing from thick forests to fields of tall grass, he was nearing his destination of Madelon's Landing on the Planet Nakondis. The Starship was suppose to have landed directly at Madelon's Landing where he hoped that he could find work as a pilot of some kind in the newly established colony there but the thick mists which surrounded most of the planet had diverted the ship to another landing location further away due to some kind of electrical storm in the planets mists. The shuttle had breached the cloud cover in another location and was now making its away at tree top level towards the spaceport. Valaras was confident he could have landed the ship directly at Madelon's Landing and had offered to do that but the pilot seemed to have taken offence at the suggestion that he wasn't capable of the same thing and had used several harsh words to tell Valaras where he could place his offer, in a language he was sure the Android would not understand. Valaras was fluent in several languages but whichever one the pilot was using was not one of them, but fortunately it was one which Delta was programmed to understand and his drone companion helpfully displayed the translation on his Datapad for him, Valaras glanced it over and raised an eyebrow at the suggestions, addressing the pilot "Well Sir, that is certainly a very informative image but i'm afraid that its quite impossible. I was born from a technological foundry you see, i do not have a biological mother to return too in such a fashion. Is this something you yourself have considered doing? I'm afraid my knowledge of Terran Physiology is quite limited, is this something your species are capable of?" Valaras was perplexed by the pilots reaction to his question, choosing to seal himself back in the cockpit while muttering more phrases in an angry sounding tone, instead of replying. The android merely shrugged his shoulders as he had seen others do in these situations and returned to his seat for the remainder of the in atmosphere flight. Perhaps the man was late for such a family event due to the rerouted flight and was simply under a lot of stress. After several minutes staring out of the view port, Valaras could make out the growing city of Madelon's landing approaching, they would be entering through a transport gate shortly and he could start a new chapter in his life, a quick check on his finances did not improve his mood any, enough for perhaps two nights in an efficiency room with a meal if he was lucky, maybe four if he resigned himself to a communal sleeping pod instead. he would need to find work quickly when he arrived and hope his new employer would be generous enough to give him an advance on his wages. But that would have to wait, the Shuttle suddenly shuddered and lurched violently as the cabin lighting popped in a shower of sparks, the vessel thrown into darkness for a moment before the dull red emergency lighting kicked in, Sitting beside the window Valaras could practically feel the static charge running through the hull of the ship, it seemed the vessel had not escaped the lightning charged mist storm after all and had been struck. Listening to the engines wailing over the panicked screams of the passengers his engineering instinct kicked in and told him something was wrong, a vessel this size should have been more than capable of handling an errant lighting surge across its systems but the engines were screaming as if they were stuck and struggling to change gears, but the pilot would hear it also and adjust for it Valaras waited, the moment stretching out longer than it should have, the wailing engines now grinding and the hull shuddering, warning lights flashed in the cabin and the oxygen filtration system was activated, a breathing tube and face mask extending from the arms of the passengers chairs, even the most inept pilot would have noticed that. Not needing to worry about oxygen like the biological passengers, Valaras unbuckled his restraining belt and made his way to the cockpit door. He was surprised to see a woman from further back in the cabin had done the same, also an android like himself she didn't need the filtration mask and while everyone else was panicked and screaming they appeared to be the only two thinking calmly. Giving the woman a nod in greeting, Valaras tried to open the door of the cockpit but it was locked shut, glancing through the small view port in its frame he was shocked to see that the flight crew all appeared to be unconscious, or perhaps dead, they were slumped very limply in their chairs, being buffeted by the winds rushing through the shattered windscreen of the cockpit, it appeared that the lightning strike had struck directly through the window and the resulting surge had overloaded the controls as well as electrocuted the crew The vehicle was still rushing towards the transport gate at Madelon's Landing, the controls possibly locked in their previous position by the surge, but eyeballing the approaching city Valaras was convinced that their trajectory had been changed and they would miss the gate by several feet and instead fly straight into the city walls if they didn't do something. Looking over at the Android Woman, he could see she had realised the same thing and had quickly jumped into action, working on the small computer panel beside the door to override the lock and get them access to the cockpit, He would have done the same thing but he wasn't sure there was time to do that and stop the ship in time so he left her too it and sat down in an empty chair, drawing a strange look from the Android woman before she returned to the computer screen. Although it may have looked like he had given up, nothing could be further from the truth and a second later I don't think the Remote Operation Spell can effect ship's this size but i've taken creative liberties for story and cool purposes on this occasionan array of holographic controls and screens sprang into being in front of and around him, anyone familiar with the ship would recognise them as a duplicate of the controls inside the cockpit Reaching up, Valaras seized the controls, to his hands they were as tangible and real as the ones behind the sealed door, a quick scan of the mimicked screens told him that he did not have full control of the vessel like he had hoped, he was not able to adjust their trajectory from where he was, but he could control the engines and slow them down, he could also stop the completely if he chose too but he didn't have control of the directional thrusters or the landing gear either so doing that would simply change their impact from the city wall to the ground before it instead. As she felt the vessel slowing suddenly, the android woman glanced back over and saw the holographic controls in Valaras hands and realised what he was doing, she was clearly a trained pilot herself it seemed. as he focused on maintaining their speed and momentum enough to keep them from falling from the sky, he addressed the woman "I do hope you can open that door very soon. I am not able to do more than give you a few more seconds of flight time before we crash into the wall and everyone here dies in a very painful and fiery manner" The new screams coming from those close enough to hear him caused him even more confusion at their reaction. "Ah, your one of those models. Give me one more second and i'll have it" True to her word, a second later the cockpit door hissed and slid open and she rushed inside, through his duplicate controls he could feel her take control of the vessel and his dismissed the holographic display and went to join her in the cockpit. he was surprised to find her in the copilots seat though and she was merely holding the vessel steady while she waited for him to fly the ship, perhaps she wasn't the pilot he thought she was after all, or was she testing him? Seeing the city walls still rushing to meet them, Valaras unceremoniously pulled the pilot from the seat and seized control of the vessel, his hands working the controls like it was second nature, powering off the engines on one side so the others forced the vessel to veer back towards the transport gate. he killed the remaining engines completely early, they were going to fast still to wind down in time enough not to effect the directional thrusters and he left the landing gear up. At this speed and so close to the ground they would just be sheered off anyway and he needed the larger surface area of the underside of the hull to stop them, it would not be a pretty landing but they would walk away from it. What followed was several hours of questions and debriefings by the authorities of Maledon's Landing, he was processed faster than some of the other passengers, no doubt due to his actions saving the vessel but it was still not a fast process, He was very surprised when he left the port authority office to find the Android Woman was waiting for him, offering him her hand with a smile which could only be described as wolfish "That was a cute trick with the controls, Your more than just a Pilot. I'm Cedona, lets talk business"

[Kenjitsu]

Chip Name: Charles Monkshood (Chip) Race: Ysoki Sex: Male Class: Operative Theme: Tinker Age: 14 Alignment: CG Home World: Akiton Crew Role: Engineer Description: Chip is your typical cute Ysoki, with soft brown hair and blue intelligent eyes. Standing only 3.14 feet tall and being just shy of 73 pounds, he is barely a man (In Ysoki years) at the age of 14. Wearing a standard mechanic's jumpsuit with traces of circuits hinting at a clearweave set of armor, Chip looks every part of being a ship's mechanic. And while it is not uncommon for everyone to carry a weapon, he carries a laser pistol at his side and a survival knife strapped to his boot. And while he might look small and unpresuming, there is a look of confidence in his eyes that suggest he is no stranger to danger. Only the most observant of reviews would identify some of the characteristics of an operative, like the utility belt around his waist is more than just carrying tools needed to work on engines. Background: Growing up in a large family on Akiton, it is no wonder Chip wanted some space when he was old enough to be considered a man. He had always had a knack for fixing things and so when a position on a starship opened up for an assistant mechanic, Chip jumped at the chance. The ship was called Pecan and was an all Ysoki crew of mercenaries. And while they might be small in stature, they more than made up for that with their fire power. While Chip may have wanted to just explore the universe and was happy to just work on the ship's engines, he was eventually trained in all matter of operative ways. After all, he had to learn to carry his weight on this military unit's voyage. Chip picked up a little bit about everything during his training and the few missions he went on outside the ship, but working on machines was his true passion and the longer he was away from the ship on missions, the more he wanted to find something else. As the Pecan stopped at Absalom Station to pick up new contracts, Chip took the opportunity to bid the crew farewell and look for something heading away from all the local political conflicts. Finding a ship heading towards Madelon's Landing on Nakondis sounded like just what the doctor ordered. On an outpost that far out, life should be all about keeping the machines up and running with little to no politics or conflicts other than what the planet may throw at him. It was time to become just an engineer and put his mission running operative days behind him. It was time for a new start. Working with the colonist, helping maintain the machinery was a nice break from hectic life of working on a mercenary ship. Chip was able to make friends with some of the other mechanics working at the various stations. One of his favorites was a unique four armed kid named Pete. Chip thought it was funny how the kid always made comments about how it was bigger than him, even though it was obvious Chip was a hair taller. Life was good, but then "they" came and the occupation started. Chip tried to keep his head down and just wait things out since it looked like they where here to find something and he hoped that he would leave after they found it and life would go back to normal. But as time went one, some of the colonist were taken and things were looking like things would not be getting any better. While not actively part of the resistance, Pete had recently convinced him that something needed to happen. Then, things looked like the resistance was starting to fight back, but Chip missed catching up with Pete before he left with some strangers. Now, Chip is waiting for Pete to return so he can get an update on what is going on.   Charles Monkshood (Chip)

OOC Action Rolls Results Free Action     Swift Action     Move Action     Standard Action     Full Action           Stats Charles Monkshood (Chip) SP: 18/18 HP: 20/20 RP: 5/5 Current Status: Normal Senses: Darkvision Vision (60 Ft.) Initiative: +10; Perception: +10; Stealth: +14; AC (Energy/Kinetic): 17 / 17 Saves (Fortitude, Reflex, Will): +1; +7; +3 Notes: Ysoki Tinker Operative (Engineer) Languages: Common, Ysoki, Aktitonian, Aklo, Azlanti, Celestrial, Goblin, Kasatha, Vesk, (+1) Credits: 0 / UPBs: 1 Special Gear Amulet of Camouflage

 

Character Sheet for Charles Monkshood (Chip) (Link to RPG Crossing Character Sheet)