[OOC] Onto a Sea of Stars | [Full] (Page 2)

is trying to survive

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Bio

Here we go.

19 | Feraxi | Femme | Engineer, Mechanic, Scavenger, and Overall Techie Queen

Character Post

“Your thermal couplings are bad.” The feraxi girl blinked as the spanner in her hands met with the engine coil. “You’re lucky your ship stayed in one piece on re-entry. Your shield batteries are warped. Nearly dead.”

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 lose 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, less 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.

“Not sure I can fix the batteries or couplings. Give me a few hours. I’ll see if I can find ones that work."

“Thanks, Ula. You’re a lifesaver once again.” 

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.

“You owe me.” 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 something. 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. 

“Hey Ula.” A voice called out to her as she dug through her file cabinets, an old paper list in her hand. 

“Calloway.”

“Cal.” The man insisted, “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.”

“You won’t.” She commented in a dry monotone, “When do you leave?”

“Soon. Before nightfall.”

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, “Don’t get killed. Got it?”

“Let’s head to the cantina for old time's sake. I’d hate to leave without a proper send-off.”

“Okay.”

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.

Character Ties

1) TBD later if accepted. Do not fill out.
2) TBD later if accepted. Do not fill out.
Inventory

1) Engineers’ Kit
2) Personal Blaster Pistol
3) Utility Tool

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Hidden 3 yrs ago → 3 yrs ago Post by DruSM157

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19 | Human | Male | Gunner/Security   

Character Post 

Duststorms were typical on Veros. The boy had been born and raised on the planet, one of the first children born of the young settlement that had been chartered before the conflicts of war began to envelop the galaxy. His parents had died of rustlung only a year into his birth, but luckily it was the old Marshal, his grandfather, that had stepped in to raise the boy. Duncan, or Dun for short, stared out the thick window to the outside, while his grandfather sat at his desk, rifling through a stack of papers. 

Marshal Gale Elrin was not a gentle man. His skin resembled coarse leather, his hair was greasy and unkempt, and the man’s face had not seen a razor blade in years. He’d been chosen by the settlement during the chartering as their choice of Marshal due to his experience in the Border World conflicts as a well regarded Colonel, and his years as a well-regarded marshal in the inner ring systems. He’d been the man who brought in Beltrix Gespard alive, after all, after the Truvelian had killed ten other marshals between Tervix and Brousal. For the Marshal, Veros was a chance to retire in quiet solitude and peace away from the hustle and bustle of the inner system. He’d grow fat and old and die in his sleep. He didn’t expect that the planet’s constant dust storms to be extremely hostile to humans; and in the first three years settling the town of Burgess Claim, over half the settlers had died of disease. 

“Grandpa,” the boy said, walking over to his grandfather’s desk, “when’s the storm gonna pass?”

“Probably won’t pass til tomorrow morning,” the old man replied, “Go read a holostory for now.” 

“I’ve read all the holos in the house,” the boy whined. “When are you going to teach me to shoot like you?”

The Marshal raised a thick eyebrow, eying the scrawny boy up. He’d just turned thirteen, and some of the colony boys had started learning to use a rifle even earlier. They’d had to, with so many of the original settlers buried in the ground. 

“Come with me,” he grunted, walking leading the boy downstairs. With the environment so dangerous, the Marshal had set up his own shooting gallery across from the holding cells; which besides the weekend drunk, had remained unused for most of the season. On the far wall, the Marshal had set up several targets. He stood the boy at a taped mark on the floor, and fumbled in his jacket, before producing his sidearm: a heavy Rigel-V Duster. The models were heavy, unwieldy, and hit heavy for a kinetic firearm. The Marshal handed the boy the revolver and stood behind him. 

“Now, you want to hold it like so-” the old man helped the boy wrap his fingers around the grip. His small hands barely fit. “You’ll grow into a gun like this,” he remarked and helped the young boy line up the sights. “Now, don’t yank the trigger. You want to squeeze it. Kinetic guns like this-” 

The boy squeezed the trigger-

The Duster erupted in an explosion of sound. Standing fifteen yards away, the large Grix smuggler who’d only seconds earlier had been holding a small holdout pistol pointed at Fiona Miles, the local merchant’s daughter, crumbled onto the ground, gasping for air. The man stood over the smuggler as the girl quickly pulled away from the large hairy alien, half-in shock from momentarily being a hostage and half in shock that the young Marshal had the goddamn gall to shoot the smuggler while he still had her at gunpoint! 

“Of all the stupid, lowdown, worthless lawmen I have ever had the misfortune of meeting-” she spat venom at the man, as he simply sauntered over to the Grix, the red-haired alien’s barrel chest heaving up and down. 
“Enough of the drama,” the young man said, kicking the alien in the side. “I hit you with a concussive shot. ‘Nuffin that’d kill your sorry hide.” 

Duncan Elrin stood above the Grix, his shadow covering the alien’s torso. He’d grown tall and broad, with strong shoulders and sharp eyes, both traits hammered into his body by his grandfather’s lessons. On his hip sat the ragged leather holster that Gale Elrin had worn for thirty years. Dun had made sure to put the old iron to good use during his time as the settlement’s Marshal. 

The Grix was only able to force out another pained moan, as the Marshal pulled the alien up. In the two years since his grandfather had passed, Dun had taken up Gale’s position as the town Marshal. As Burgess Claim slowly grew in size, it had become an important trader in ore and red sand, enough that the local port was constantly abuzz with merchant ships. 

And with trade came crime. The Marshal’s office was constantly filled with smugglers, thieves, dealers, and other surly types. The fact that Dun was constantly flashing his iron at anyone that smelled rotten was bad enough that the constant threats on his job had finally come to fruition on that day. As he carried the Grix into his office, he stopped, dumbfounded by the three men waiting for him. 

The mayor was the one he recognized. Hillock Burgess was the namesake of Burgess Claim, after all. He’d survived the years to become a well-connected man for the rim-side colonies, and with his stake in many of the local mining organizations, he’d become wealthy quickly. The two men standing at Burgess’ wings were not locals. One was older, dressed like many of the Rim-side settlers. The younger man was dressed nicer and had a shiny leather jacket covering a pressed-blue shirt. Both men wore Marshal badges.

“Mr. Elrin,” Burgess began, wiping his silver spectacles with a handkerchief, “we at the colony appreciate the years of service your grandfather gave to the town. And we are in your debt for carrying on his legacy after his sudden demise. But-” 

Dun’s face flushed deep crimson. “You weedy sumbitch-” he growled, moving towards the mayor before the two Marshal’s quickly grabbed him, pulling him back. 

“As I was saying,” the man continued, “you are not a licensed Marshal. You’ve been acting under the Deputy Statue of the Marshal’s code, acting as interim Marshal, but as of today you are relieved of your duty.” 
“Where the hell am I supposed to go!?” Dun snarled. 

“It’s not my problem, Mr. Elrin.” The mayor sighed. “Your effects have been boxed up for you. I’ve taken the liberty to pay you a handsome sum for your family’s stake in the colony. Out of kindness, of course.” He handed him a small sum of credits. Handsome indeed. “It’s enough to charter passage to wherever you’d like to go. A chance to start a new life.” 

Those words were the executioner’s fatal swing against any hopes Dun had. His weekly brawls and shootouts had made him few friends in the settlement, but he was doing as his grandfather had tasked him: he was protecting the colony. Of course, others saw it as painting the colony in a darker color; a hothead like Dun walking around, ready to draw iron at anyone who toed the line, was not healthy for business; and it was business that was keeping Burgess Claim alive now. 

Dun pictured countless words and actions against the mayor. Shoving his iron down the old man’s throat, punching the spectacles off his fat little nose, or just saying something with enough bile and vitriol to start a brawl with the two hired tin stars. But there was no fight in his heart with the understanding that this was no longer his home. 

Chartering a flight didn’t take too long, and a night sleeping on the bench of the port wasn’t the worst sleep he’d had. The morning before his departure, he trekked down the dusty paths to the local graveyard, kneeling down at the Elrin plot. Three dust-weathered gravestones sat there: Bren Elrin, Jess Elrin, and Gale Elrin’s names marked their resting place. Dun took the wethered old Marshal Star from his pack, placed it on the red dirt of the graves, and covered it with a handful of the rest dust. 

He gathered his things and left the past behind.

Character Ties

1) TBD later if accepted. Do not fill out.
2) TBD later if accepted. Do not fill out.
Inventory

1) Duster Kinetic Revolver 
2) Emergency Medical Kit
3) Weapon Maintenance Tools

Edit: Annnnd finished

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Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Kuro

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Kuro u're mom

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u're mom

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Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Helios J Mears

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Helios J Mears

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Big Vibe:

Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by mickilennial

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mickilennial is trying to survive

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is trying to survive

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Bio

I, too, like oversized images.

Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Helios J Mears

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Helios J Mears

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In my defence, I couldn't be arsed scaling it

Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by DruSM157

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DruSM157 Nobody

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@Helios J Mears

Is Mears your last name? Because seriously I NEVER meet people who share my last name. This is really freaking me out. 

Also, will edit and format the character sheet now that I'm off work.  

Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by mickilennial

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mickilennial is trying to survive

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is trying to survive

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@Helios J Mears

Is Mears your last name? Because seriously I NEVER meet people who share my last name. This is really freaking me out. 

Also, will edit and format the character sheet now that I'm off work.@DruSM157
Why you gotta doxx yourself like that, bro.

Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Kuro

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Kuro u're mom

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<Snipped quote by DruSM157>
Why you gotta doxx yourself like that, bro.@TGM

I mean... Dru's PfP is literally himself, so...

Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by DruSM157

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DruSM157 Nobody

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If people are really that bored and want to doxx me, they will be disappointed in how little I do/have done. 

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Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Helios J Mears

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Helios J Mears

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Yeah@DruSM157, Mears is my last name :) Small world!

@TGMI live on a mountain, if someone wants to doxx me they can be my guest.

See where it gets them

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Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Zapdos

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Zapdos Electric Pokemon

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Zapdos

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Yeah@DruSM157, Mears is my last name :) Small world!

@TGMI live on a mountain, if someone wants to doxx me they can be my guest.

See where it gets them@Helios J Mears

Probably on a mountain, assuming they want to find you :P

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Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Helios J Mears

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Helios J Mears

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Probably on a mountain, assuming they want to find you :P@Zapdos

...

You clever sunnova...

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Hidden 3 yrs ago → 3 yrs ago Post by datadogie

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datadogie Cloak and Dagger

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datadogie

Cloak and Dagger

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Alright, here he is. The psychopath innocent kitty!

16 | Zejiniko | Male | Pilot, and perhaps steward if you ask nicely

The ship was set on it's course, the autopilot taking over to guide the ship where it needed to go. Russell wanted to stay on the bridge, to stay at the station that he had trained so hard to be, but instead, he was being made to continue stewarding. Perhaps had they been on a planet, he would have taken it a little more lightly as there was little need to pilot within an estate and he understood that. But up in space, he wanted to do what he wanted to do, not the same job he had been born and raised to do without choice. When they got to their destination, he was done. Russell was leaving. He didn't want to, he liked serving under Lady Vinlula, but he was being made to.

Atop the plate that Russell carried into Vinlula's chamber, a trio of glasses were balanced, each one filled with a different colour of liquid; one red, one blue, one green. The soft lighting of the chamber resonated with him, calmed him, and the presence of Lady Vinlula made itself evident as she rose from her bed into a sitting position and gave him a smile. She had always been so kind to him, treating him with respect. Though, there was a hint of sadness in her eyes - news of his soon departure from her service had clearly reached her, and she clearly wasn't happy about it. She was going to miss him, just as he was going to miss her. slowly, Russell made his way toward the bedside table, setting the plate down atop it. His hands trembled just a little, but the drinks remained unspilled. He was going to miss her, he thought to himself, just staring at the glasses. She seemed to pick up on this.

"I'm sorry," Vinlula says quietly, reaching over to run a pair of fingers along the edge of one of his ears. It brought the softest of purrs from Russell, who turned to face her. "If there was anything I could do, I'd do it. But you know how it works. If father's Chief of Staff wants someone gone, I can't say anything about it," she says softly. Then, she spread her arms, and Russell took the hint. He moved close, leaning over the bed, hugging her tightly. It lasted a few, precious moments, before they let go of eachother. After a moment of smiling at eachother, Vinlula places a hand on her chest, giving him a sad look. "If you can't find anything else, I'll try and get you back here. Goodbye, Russell," Vinlula says.

"Goodbye, Vinlula," Russell replies softly. He left the chamber, a crestfallen look on his face. He made his way to the bridge, sitting down at his console to make sure that everything was set for his final destination. They would make it into orbit in ten minutes. That meant it was time for him to head to the shuttle bay, and so he rose once more, walking his way there and waving sadly at the others as he left. The shuttle was already loaded and ready to fly, and so he made his way up the ramp, settling down in a seat beside the cockpit. Soon, the shuttle rose from it's position on the deck, starting to make it's way down the planet, and Russell began to drift asleep for the journey as he mentally planned out where he was going to find a job as a pilot.

Character Ties

1) TBD later if accepted. Do not fill out.
2) TBD later if accepted. Do not fill out.
Inventory

1) Communicator, to communicate (duh).
2) Blaster pistol, as a sidearm.
3) Datapad, for various uses.

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Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Zapdos

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Zapdos Electric Pokemon

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Zapdos

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Jeez, everyone's CSes are so nice. Stop setting the bar so high for the rest of us :P

Two mechanics seems redundant though, so I'm going to re-tool my character into a medic or something.

Someone who can generate electricity seems kind of appropriate, given my username. Is "fuel source" a job? :P

Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by DruSM157

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DruSM157 Nobody

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Jeez, everyone's CSes are so nice. Stop setting the bar so high for the rest of us :P

Two mechanics seems redundant though, so I'm going to re-tool my character into a medic or something.

Someone who can generate electricity seems kind of appropriate, given my username. Is "fuel source" a job? :P@Zapdos

I haven't written in like 6 months and it all sort of poured out haha

Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by datadogie

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datadogie Cloak and Dagger

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datadogie

Cloak and Dagger

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Jeez, everyone's CSes are so nice. Stop setting the bar so high for the rest of us :P

Two mechanics seems redundant though, so I'm going to re-tool my character into a medic or something.

Someone who can generate electricity seems kind of appropriate, given my username. Is "fuel source" a job? :P@Zapdos

A medic, hmm? Maybe with some... Psychology knowledge, hmm? ;D

Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by mickilennial

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mickilennial is trying to survive

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