[center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/b3RmLjk2LmZmZmZmZi5WblZzY0dWamRXeGguMA/vermin-vibes-2.regular.png[/img] [img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/03/66/8d/03668d214eec8c635ed7b9e73edf5416.jpg[/img] [color=white][sub][b]19[/b] [color=gray]|[/color] [b][abbr=animal rights are human rights]Feraxi[/abbr][/b] [color=gray]|[/color] [b]Femme[/b] [color=gray]|[/color] [b]Engineer, Mechanic, Scavenger, and Overall Techie Queen[/b][/sub][/color] [sub][color=white]Character Post[/color][/sub][/center] [indent][indent][indent][indent][color=gray][color=white]“Your thermal couplings are bad.”[/color] The feraxi girl blinked as the spanner in her hands met with the engine coil. [color=white]“You’re lucky your ship stayed in one piece on re-entry. Your shield batteries are warped. Nearly dead.”[/color] The pilot laughed. Not at her, but it was enough for the feraxi to question their intelligence. She didn’t make a joke. She merely informed them that they were lucky to be alive given the state of the parts she had been tasked with monitoring and, to the best her ability, repairing. But there was no fixing bad couplings or warped batteries. The pilot needed new ones or he was going to have to enjoy the shithole that was Eios. The ship wasn’t a completely lost cause, but finding fresh batteries and couplings or… half-fresh ones was going to be a challenge. Eios was a scavenging planet as it had been for the last few generations. Its once beautiful desert was a graveyard of metal and plasma, a result from a skirmish that occurred five decades ago. You were lucky to find parts that worked, let alone were right off the manufacturing line. If you wanted something new you needed to warp to a core world. If you could. Chances were if you were stopping on Eios looking for parts you were in need of an emergency stop in the middle of nowhere. If you needed repairs on Eios you were trouble or trouble had found you. That was just the facts and the feraxi knew it well. [color=white]“Not sure I can fix the batteries or couplings. Give me a few hours. I’ll see if I can find ones that work."[/color] [color=tan]“Thanks, Ula. You’re a lifesaver once again.”[/color] She sighed as the human pilot referred to her informally. Not surprising. Her name was a mouthful. Vulpecula was long enough without going into the feraxi nature of conjoining breeds into the family name. Not that her family name mattered. Her father got shot in the head when she was thirteen by a drunk pirate who didn’t want to pay for his repairs. Her mother left home when she was taken by slavers while she was hiding under the floorboards not long after they had buried her father. Before she was fourteen years old she had to find a way to survive and the only skills she had were the skills her father had taught her. The architecture of interstellar warp drives. Basic mechanics. Fundamentals of ship construction. She had been good at it and when she was younger she thought she was going to go to a great engineering school on a core world. But who was she kidding? The only way she was going to leave Eios was in a cage or by joining a crew. Neither had happened yet. Though she had her close calls. [color=white]“You [i]owe[/i] me.”[/color] She remarked to the pilot before leaving the docking bay. She put heavy emphasis on the word ‘owe’. There was little left for her on Eios. But she didn’t have enough credits to buy into a crew. It seems every time she had enough to get away from her life and start a new one that she needed to pay out of pocket for [i]something[/i]. She was hoping the pilot knew someone who was hiring a mechanic or engineer. Needed a tech specialist. There always seemed to be someone and maybe this time she could force her way onto a crew. She shrugged as she returned to her shop. She need to check how many credits she had on hand, see if there were any other orders for repairs. Check her list for batteries and couplings. It was a disheveled place. Spare parts were scattered underneath her mattress as an old hovercraft sat underneath an old synthweave tarp. The national flag of Feraxas Prime stood on the rusted scrap-metal walls, though it had certainly seen better years. It had been her home since, well, she had sold the family apartment to help keep the shop afloat during dry spells. Besides, the old apartment just… didn’t feel right to her since her mother had been taken. Slavers and debt collectors were still problems, but Ula had found herself quite capable at avoiding trouble for the most part. She hadn’t been forced to shoot many people. And thank the stars above for that. Ula didn’t much care for firefights, though she held little remorse for the people who aimed at her with their crosshairs. [color=dodgerblue]“Hey Ula.”[/color] A voice called out to her as she dug through her file cabinets, an old paper list in her hand. [color=white]“Calloway.”[/color] [color=dodgerblue]“Cal.”[/color] The man insisted, [color=dodgerblue]“Anyway, I’m here to tell you to find a new runner. I’ve got a job with a mercenary troupe. Don’t know if I’ll be back.”[/color] [color=white]“You won’t.”[/color] She commented in a dry monotone, [color=white]“When do you leave?”[/color] [color=dodgerblue]“Soon. Before nightfall.”[/color] Ula placed the notes in her hand on a nearby desk. Cal had been the only hired help she could afford for the last year. Maybe it was longer. Runners who asked for a low return on their cut of a part needed for a ship or building’s repairs were rare. Rare was it to find a decent person on Eios. She supposed this was the final nail in the proverbial coffin; a sign to tell her that it was time to leave. Her only friend was joining a crew and life on Eios had not improved. She still hadn’t found information about the crew that took her mother outside of what she already remembered about their iconography. It was a bad situation. She crossed her arms, [color=white]“Don’t get killed. Got it?”[/color] [color=dodgerblue]“Let’s head to the cantina for old time's sake. I’d hate to leave without a proper send-off.”[/color] [color=white]“Okay.”[/color] She sighed. Didn’t have the credits, but she couldn’t resist Cal’s request given the circumstances. She had to ask around about the parts her client needed anyway and the old cantina was the best place to start asking. She faintly smiled as Cal turned, expecting her to follow him. Idiot. [/color][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent] [center][sub][color=white]Character Ties[/color][/sub][/center] [indent][indent][indent][indent][i][color=gray][color=white]1)[/color] TBD later if accepted. Do not fill out. [color=white]2)[/color] TBD later if accepted. Do not fill out.[/color][/i][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][center][sub][color=white]Inventory[/color][/sub][/center] [indent][indent][indent][indent][i][color=gray][color=white]1)[/color] Engineers’ Kit [color=white]2)[/color] Personal Blaster Pistol [color=white]3)[/color] Utility Tool[/color][/i][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]