@Kingfisher How's this? Please tell me if anything needs to be changed. I took some liberties.

Camden Ives [+]

Name:
Camden Ives
Terran Medic

Age:
47

Appearance:
Your standard Outer Rim outlaw: underfed, overcaffeinated, and exhausted. Despite her dark olive complexion, Camden somehow manages an unhealthy pallor and keeps greyish circles beneath both eyes. Nearly always she bundles her black hair into a simple, roguish tail, mostly to prevent stray locks from hanging into an open wound she might be suturing. Something other than the years has worn her down early, leaving a tired haze in her eyes.

In the palm of her right hand, a brand in the shape of a coiled viper has been burned into her skin, marking her permanently as a murderer in the eyes of the Union.

Personality:
Lots of people talk big. Camden’s been around the Outer Rim long enough to hear it all (she hasn't been there long, but there are only so many clichéd hyperboles). He'll shoot ya soon as look at ya. She can pilot a fighter through the eye of a needle. He's the biggest, meanest sumbitch this side of the Gale. Camden has no need for bluster, her own or anyone else's. She never brags and never believes a claim until she sees it for herself.

At first blush she's talkative, even chipper, ever ready with a joke or a playful elbow jab. But lie to her, play games, or threaten someone she loves, and she'll show you how ruthless looks with a smirk.

There is rarely ever a moment Camden is fully sober. When she is, her hands shake, her temper is short, and the only thing on her mind is where she's getting her next drink.

“Listen mate, don't worry about what's in my flask. You don't want me workin’ on you without it.”

Biography:
Thing about scars is that either one hides them or takes every opportunity to make a story of them to anyone willing to listen.

Camden is the former, but the brand on her palm is visible enough: the Union says she killed someone. Doesn't matter whether she did or not, she's marked for life. Some merchants won't sell to her in the nicer parts, some clinics won't hire her, and the Union would be only too happy to put a bullet in her skull. It's ruined her life, taken away every thing she ever had. Good family, good reputation, good money. She was educated, ran a blog, and was in line to head up a decent hospital in the Epsilon Sector, in Union Space. There was even a man once. They were going to build a family, and everything was going to be wonderful.

Now she has that scar.

When the Brightburn picked Camden up, she was working under a less-than-morally-ambiguous Zaetarian at a makeshift clinic for lowlifes who couldn't afford real medical care, or didn't want questions about how they were hurt. This man and was barely more than butcher, but Camden needed to eat, so she spent long hours to save as many patients as she could manage from preventable infections or stupid deaths. Working in filthy conditions and with a meager array of tools, her abilities were limited.

She met Robbins when he came in with a gunshot wound. They shared a laugh or two (at least she did) while she sewed him up, and they ended up chatting at length because there wasn't enough anesthetic to dull the pain.

Same night, some poor sap came in after taking a fight foot step off a building one street love. Camden's employer received a bribe to kill him and make it look like bad luck. She never knew that for certain, but she worked it out when his treatment was incompetent even for him. Sacrificing sleep, she attended to the patient instead, against the Zaetarian’s wishes.

In the morning, she woke up at her desk to find he had bled out. It didn't make any sense. She hadn't missed anything. When she asked her employer, he asked her to leave at gunpoint.

Out of a job, Camden went to the port before the Bightburn took off, and asked Robbins if he was hiring.

Additional Notes:
At all times, Camden carries loaded revolver, but she never draws it unless she intends to use it.

For your pleasure:

the Dead Crew Member [+]

Name: Dakho Choo

Age: 48—deceased

Appearance:

Someone’s gotta look good [+]

Dakho did his best to stay classy after the war. He liked looking good and enjoyed spending what money he earned on clothing. Nothing ridiculous, mind you, he’s no peacocking Zaetarian. However, he joked that he dressed as he did just in case the Brightburn’s clientele demanded to speak to someone who didn’t look like they just emerged from a dust storm on Fu Ho Kaun.

Personality: Dakhon was a peaceable person. He didn’t like arguing and didn’t like people arguing around him. However, he wasn’t about to try to negotiate and solve every squabble the crew of the Brightburn was in. He has more dignity than to stoop to the level of trying to convince Camden that she could use a little more sleep or that Iikka ain’t fooling him. Let alone who’s turn it is to go grocery shopping—he just walks away. However, he took great pleasure in twisting people’s words around. Embarrassment, he believed, was the most attractive expression on a person’s face.

Through and through, Dakhon was an anthropologist. Observe, note, theorize, test. For him, the Leaning Gale was a superb place of study. He loved it here. Complete adrenaline junkie despite his tendency towards self-preservation.

Biography: Dakhon fought for the Union. Okay, wait, don’t freak out. Up to that point in his life, Dakhon was able to talk himself out of everything—getting married, going to pilot school, helping his mother move across the solar system—so when everyone was suddenly jumping to go to war, he was taken aback that he was expected to do the same, too. Since when had he showed any inclination for shooting. He likes talking far too much and if you shoot someone, who was there left to talk to?

Thus, it was Dakhon’s absolute pleasure when his yammering landed him as a transmission technician on the Sovereign’s Grace. He survived the war. Obviously. It took too long, in his opinion. Wasted resources, lives, and soon enough no one wanted to talk to him in the Union because of his so called blasphemy. When some Confederate stumbled on to the empty ship when the rest of the crew was off celebrating the Unions victory, Dakhon naturally assisted in the commandeering of the newly baptized Brightburn. It was his absolute pleasure to finally have someone to talk to again. And listen! What a treat.

Dakhon never got to send a transmission to his Mum about everything he experienced in the Leaning Gale. Five years after the war as he laid dying from pancreatic cancer he refused to get treatment for in a hospital in some fueling station that housed too many Zaetarians to make his passing truly comfortable, that was his one regret.

So he gave decided to do what made sense at the time:free the first slave he found mildly attractive, bequeath his entire music collection to her, and promptly die. Perfectly poetic.

Additional Notes:

• Especially fond of American singer/songwriters from the 1960-1980s.
• Carried no weapons. He had faith in his crew members to keep him safe.

For your pleasure:

the Dead Crew Member [+]

Name: Dakho Choo

Age: 48—deceased

Appearance:

Someone’s gotta look good [+]

Dakho did his best to stay classy after the war. He liked looking good and enjoyed spending what money he earned on clothing. Nothing ridiculous, mind you, he’s no peacocking Zaetarian. However, he joked that he dressed as he did just in case the Brightburn’s clientele demanded to speak to someone who didn’t look like they just emerged from a dust storm on Fu Ho Kaun.

Personality: Dakhon was a peaceable person. He didn’t like arguing and didn’t like people arguing around him. However, he wasn’t about to try to negotiate and solve every squabble the crew of the Brightburn was in. He has more dignity than to stoop to the level of trying to convince Camden that she could use a little more sleep or that Iikka ain’t fooling him. Let alone who’s turn it is to go grocery shopping—he just walks away. However, he took great pleasure in twisting people’s words around. Embarrassment, he believed, was the most attractive expression on a person’s face.

Through and through, Dakhon was an anthropologist. Observe, note, theorize, test. For him, the Leaning Gale was a superb place of study. He loved it here. Complete adrenaline junkie despite his tendency towards self-preservation.

Biography: Dakhon fought for the Union. Okay, wait, don’t freak out. Up to that point in his life, Dakhon was able to talk himself out of everything—getting married, going to pilot school, helping his mother move across the solar system—so when everyone was suddenly jumping to go to war, he was taken aback that he was expected to do the same, too. Since when had he showed any inclination for shooting. He likes talking far too much and if you shoot someone, who was there left to talk to?

Thus, it was Dakhon’s absolute pleasure when his yammering landed him as a transmission technician on the Sovereign’s Grace. He survived the war. Obviously. It took too long, in his opinion. Wasted resources, lives, and soon enough no one wanted to talk to him in the Union because of his so called blasphemy. When some Confederate stumbled on to the empty ship when the rest of the crew was off celebrating the Unions victory, Dakhon naturally assisted in the commandeering of the newly baptized Brightburn. It was his absolute pleasure to finally have someone to talk to again. And listen! What a treat.

Dakhon never got to send a transmission to his Mum about everything he experienced in the Leaning Gale. Five years after the war as he laid dying from pancreatic cancer he refused to get treatment for in a hospital in some fueling station that housed too many Zaetarians to make his passing truly comfortable, that was his one regret.

So he gave decided to do what made sense at the time:free the first slave he found mildly attractive, bequeath his entire music collection to her, and promptly die. Perfectly poetic.

Additional Notes:

• Especially fond of American singer/songwriters from the 1960-1980s.
• Carried no weapons. He had faith in his crew members to keep him safe.

Here's part 2:
My MC:

---

Name: Cha’kwaina (Che-Ya-Quee-nah)

Age: 9

Appearance: [+]

All Quinunaki’s have the pale lavender skin of far off stars, solid black eyes of complete darkness, white hair, and mouths full of vicious pointed teeth. Cha’kwaina is no different. (From what you can tell.) Her black finger nails, she was told, prove her family is from ocean-residing tribe in Kogaan, her species home planet. She’s shorter than most of her people, that is to say, she’s of average Terran height. She will grow no taller, as she has reached her final stage in physical maturation for the Quinunaki. All that’s left to is gain enough weight to help support any future pregnancies.

She prefers to go barefoot. All other physical features she keeps hidden. After her mutilation in the Rising, Cha’kwaina took to wearing veils in public that covered her face and head, leaving only her eyes exposed to the world. Because you’ll never see her without a veil, there is no need to go further into detail. Even now, she favors the loose robes she took to wearing when still a slave.

Personality: [+]

Cha’kwaina been drugged a majority of her life. Told who she was, what she should be, and how to act. So you’re gunna have to wait until she figures out who she is herself. But here’s a list of what she’s got so far:

• She worships the stories about her people and their native home on Kogaan.
• She worries she is not really a Quinunaki.
• Multitasking is difficult.
• She talks to herself in her native tongue to help sort out her thoughts because who else would she talk to?
• She’s ashamed of her body.
• She finds music confusing, purposeless, and entirely fulfilling.

Biography: [+]

Cha’kwaina was born in Zaetarian captivity. She was trained, like a beast of burden, in a fabric sweat shop until her captors decided that she looked decent enough to be sold into the selective Zaetarian sex industry at 3. Like other Quinunaki’s in pleasure houses, Cha’kwaina was drugged. It was a menagerie of ever changing chemicals to prevent any of the Quin from developing a tolerance.

At 5, the Rising occurred. It happened in another pleasure ship that was almost two planets away, but her owner, Celsorelica Ghatarid decided an example needed to be made. Cha’kwaina, the youngest on her ship, was granted that honor. In a public ceremony in which tickets sold for the prices of small transportation vessels, cocktails were served, and Zaetarians strutted in their monstrous fashions Cha’kwaina was humiliated in the worst way possible for a Quinunaki: her teeth were pulled, one by one, and sold in a silent auction.

During her healing process under the supervision of a wrinkled Terran she learned two things: 1) her people were dying from a suspicious virus across the Leaning Gale and 2) she understood him, this ancient creature who never heard of Katheen bird let alone how to navigate the complicated . Celsorelica rejoiced when he realized his worthless Quin pleasure slave (“Who wants to have sex with a Quin without teeth? Takes away all the fun, my dear Cha-Cha,” he said.) could be trained as a translator.

By the time Cha’kwaina was 9, she mastered three Terran languages, the dialects of the major Zaetarian houses, and the harsh language of the Ruthekk. To her dismay, it was her lack of teeth that allowed her to speak these twisting languages that had her puckering her lips and rolling her tongue in unfamiliar ways. Celsorelica favored her in the ways that Zaetarians do: fawning, drugs, gifts, beatings, and sex.

“Just in case, let’s get you checked out,” Celsorelica said as news of dying Quin’s depleting Zaetarian pleasure ships came through the transmissions.

The Caesar was docked at the same refueling station as the Brightburn for this very purpose when Cha’kwaina was bought by a Terran and then freed by his subsequent death. Celsorlica thought it was a joke. Until the credits showed up in his account and Cha’kwaina was tucked away on the Brightburn before he could gather enough Zaetarian supporters.

The crew of the Brightburn was prepared to drop Cha’kwaina off at the next dusty frontier town because she stinks of trouble and they don’t need any more of that. She argued, in all the languages she knew, for an opportunity to prove herself: one month. That was her grace period. So far, it’s been a week.

Additional Notes:

the savages of the Leaning Gale [+]

• Kogaan: the home planet of the Quinunaki; as inhospitable to the life forms that scratch out a living there as well as those wishing to infiltrate the planet and its resources. Very specific atmospheric conditions are needed for ships to enter and land on Kogaan.
• Living environment: due to the harsh nature of their home planet, the Quins place high regard on procreation and children.
• Rate of maturation:the shortened lifespan of these creatures doesn’t imply they don’t mature. The mental, physical, and emotional maturation of the Quin occurs in a shortened amount of time compared to other creatures of the Leaning Gale and beyond. Think of it in terms of “dog years.”
• Gene variation:increased rate of procreation leads to new mutations within the race in attempts to battle the continually changing environment of Kogaan; although basic characteristics of their race remains constant, each tribe developed definitive physical traits based on their location.
• Intelligence: simple in terms of technology, this race of people’s ability to adapt confounds researches.
• Warrior worship: those men and women who kill the Kathleen are granted high status in the community.
• Hair: those considered warriors shave the sides of their heads and keeps the rest of their hair braided in one thick length. In general, braids are considered sacred and good luck. It’s common for Quins to twine together objects and carry them with them.
• Teeth: to show their strength, Quins can choose to undergo lip mutilation. Their lips are cut or sewn back to keep their teeth constantly exposed. It’s considered attractive. It’s an extremely painful and dangerous process. 1/3 of those who attempt this procedure die.
• Time line: first contact with the Quinunakis occurred twenty some years before the war. In the last seven, however, contact increased with raiders and Zaetarian pirates due to demand.
• Slave trade: Quins are wanted for three purposes: labor intensive tasks; ring fighting; pleasure boats.
• Sickness:encroachment of their planet by new species from far stretches of the galaxy, a deadly virus is working its way through the Quins. The disease, unnamed, causes muscle dystrophy. 1/10 die. Of the surviving, 2/3 are left crippled or mutilated.

wonderful. I'm going to include Dahko (dead crew member) in that post, kay?

I look forward to seeing everyone's characters finished, then.