Khaliya
{ "Personally, I think Sisterhood of Steel sounds better. Gotta have that alliteration." }- General Characteristics -
Khaliya Bertrand
| {Nickname/Callsign} |The Swordwind
| {Age} |28
| {Gender} |Female
| {Face Claim} |Dichen Lachman
| {Dialogue Color} |Purple
| {Appearance} |Standing out from most other wastelanders, and even her own within the Brotherhood, Khaliya often seems a person out of time and almost disconnected from reality. A near constant bemused smirk gives that impression clearly, as she rarely frowns or even strays towards a serious expression. Outwardly she is anything but imposing, standing at a rather short 5'1" and of a lithe build. It's to the point that while in "civvies" she has often enough been accused of being a Vault Dweller attempting to blend, only for the truth to come crashing down in short order. It all comes down to her athletic build and the knowledge on how best to use what she has.
A little bit of cybernetics helps as well, as due to an "incident" years ago, Khaliya lost most of her left leg and her entire left arm including the shoulder. She tries to hide it as best she can though, generally trending towards long sleeved clothing or not even bothering with the prosthetic arm when she just doesn't feel like it. That's not the only sign of her warrior's calling, as she bears a lifetime of scarring from numerous battles stitched across her skin. Bullet scars, knife wounds, claw marks and laser burns decorate her body to tell her history. Only the gouge down her right arm between the wrist and elbow and the loss of her arm are visible, the rest for her and those few she allows close.
- Psychological Profile -
As her more relaxed appearances would suggest, Khaliya is a rather aloof and eccentric sort, rarely taking anything seriously until it comes time to apply force. She often lets her eyes wander and tunes people out, something that gets her in a decent enough bit of trouble with her commanders, and gives her a general air of disinterest. Only when something draws her interest will she give her full attention, where she trends less towards aloof and more towards flirty for as long as her interest holds. This attitude remains even with those she is close to and at times can be even worse, though the small smile on her lips makes it clear she knows what she is doing and does it just to get a rise out of her friends. Don't be fooled by her otherwise cheery and mercurial demeanor however, for when her buttons are pressed, she is quick to shift into violence. To those who have witnessed such incidents, it is clear that perhaps there is more to the woman than the often blissfully unaware flirt, or the unconcerned observer, something that hints that it may just be a mask to cover the suffering of her past or something darker. Since she has always been loyal to her brothers and sisters of the Brotherhood and anyone she fights alongside, it has never come into question though, and most are content with just giving her that little bit of space and playing along.
| {Fears/Limitations} |For Khaliya, someone who has spent the last fifteen years fighting with the Brotherhood and out in some of the worst combat zones in the wasteland, few things truly scare her and even then she does her best to hold firm to that cheery disposition. What does give her pause though, is the possibility of losing those few close to her heart, and of course the deadliest creature in the wasteland. Ever since her last run-in with a Deathclaw that left her crippled for a year, she has a healthy respect for the overgrown lizards and generally does her best to keep out of their way. More than inspiring fear in her though, that incident left her permanently scarred and with long-term damage. Even after six years she still carries a slight limp in her left leg and her left arm is a fraction slower than it should be due to the nature of cybernetics. While she is one to enjoy a good war story, it still serves as quite the sore spot for Khaliya, and anytime someone makes the mistake of mentioning how she went head-on with a Deathclaw and lived, she is quick to introduce them to her fist.
| {Place of Origin} |Born in the outskirts of the Deadlands to a family of traveling merchants, for most of her early life Khaliya was just like any other wastelander. Living day to day on whatever she had, it wasn't until she was ten that she was introduced to the Brotherhood of Steel on their way to the Capital Wasteland and she was brought along due to her natural aptitude with mechanics. Ever since she has served with her brothers and sisters in arms and worked to ensure mankind never suffered at the hands of mishandled technology again.
| {Background} |In an unforgiving wasteland few are ever given the chance to rise up above the hand they've been dealt. Khaliya had a hard childhood, but it was a decent enough one for the daughter of traveling merchants. She always had them by her side, had plenty of opportunity to pursue her hobbies and even developed the skills in mechanical engineering that would see her through later in life. Yet, as the wasteland giveth, the wasteland taketh away. No one ever had it easy, and her family had been given the easy road for far too long. While they had always made the journey from Boston to DC without issue and staying to the well-traveled paths, a storm out of the Glowing Sea had forced them to divert one year and take a dangerous detour. Both of her parents had been mercenaries before settling down for a calmer life, so for them it was just a matter of not wanting to expose their daughter to the violence, but for Khaliya who had never held a weapon before that point, it was when that youthful innocence died.
They had been beset by raiders outside Baltimore, a well known raider dominated city, and forced to go to ground. Her mother and father fought back with a tenacity she had only seen in comics, using every bit of cover they had to lay down punishing fusillades of plasma fire and taking little in return. It was only when her father took a bullet to the shoulder when she had been forced to take up a gun as well, taking her first kill at ten years of age and leaving her changed forever. An hour passed as the exchange intensified, the raiders knowing that there was only so much the two could do as their ammo dwindled, all the while they could simply call in fresh faces and guns to continue until all of that cargo was theirs. They truly believed they had a win until laser fire lit them up from their flanks and rockets trapped them from behind.
Charging in with all the tactical and technical superiority they were known for, the Brotherhood of Steel hammered the raiders down and crushed them under power-armored boot within a matter of moments after entering the fray. It was a hollow victory for Khaliya though. In the crossfire and confusion of the "rescue" her mother had taken a fatal wound and her father bled out despite their best efforts. The paladin who lead the lance told her she was lucky, but she felt nothing in her heart as she had been orphaned and had nothing left. It meant nothing that they offered to take her in and bring her with them to DC, nor that she was grudgingly allowed to keep her parent's weapons. The wasteland had taken from her everything and deep down a fire lit within her. Khaliya had seen the Brotherhood storm into the raiders and destroy them as if they were nothing, and once the grief had passed it inspired her.
She knew instinctively that if she worked for it, she too could become just like them and make the wasteland a fairer place. All she needed to do was convince them that she could be of value to the order, and it was an easy enough thing to do. For years she had just played around with electronics and basic tinkering, but even with a rudimentary knowledge at a young age, the Brotherhood knew that she could be taught the rest easily. In 2268 she was no longer an orphan, but had been adopted into a family with hundreds of brothers and sisters who were sworn to defend each other to the last.
For several years afterward, the days passed in either constant study or menial tasks. Being a squire had meant that much of her time was devoted as such, but she threw herself into it eagerly even while putting on a face for her fellows. It came first as a way to stop the looks of sympathy the Elders had for her, of being the orphan girl, and then when she found a smile made everyone more receptive, it became her. Khaliya took to the mask of a bright soul even as her first teacher died on patrol, then as one by one her friends left her to join the various orders, and finally when she herself took hold of a sword for the first time. It was easier to lie to them all and pretend she was not still grieving for all she had lost than to admit it and deal with their constant presence and sympathetic eyes.
By the time she had reached sixteen, she was no longer a mere child, and had become adept in basic combat roles. Already her swordplay was pushing the limits of her teachers, testing them and often requiring visits to medical when she had taken things far too seriously. While some among the Scribes wanted her for her aptitude with plasma tech in particular, she had been destined for the Knights since the moment she first held a weapon. In a short ceremony on a cold February day in 2274 her perseverance was recognized and Khaliya was officially knighted and given her own suit of power armor. For the first time in years, she felt truly happy and only moreso that the moment was witnessed by those friends who had remained. In particular one boy her age stood out, Jeremiah Bertrand, and it was his support as well as her own tenacity that had allowed her to keep going every day.
Yet there was no time to sit back and bask in the glory, for now that she was a knight, she had to train even harder to perfect what she knew. More than ever, Khaliya threw herself into her regimens, constantly working the mats in the combat centers and improving however she could whenever she could. Little downtime was ever had, and whatever she could find it slowly started to shift towards the local bar with her fellow knights. It hadn't taken much to convince her of taking to the drink, and though one or two regretted it severely she had found herself another mask to wear. Days were spent in training, constant motion with sword in hand and working to keep in peak physical fitness while her nights slowly drained away into the bottom of a glass and idle flirting with men and women alike.
It came to an end in 2276, for betrayal rocked the order and trust between members took a major hit. Though some had always felt that perhaps the leadership of Lyons was not the best and wasn't the direction they should be going, few had ever dared to voice it aloud. Khaliya was one of those, and even if she wasn't friends with Sarah Lyons, she would have remained in line anyways. So it came as a shock to her especially when Casdin openly defied the order and established his outcasts. Calls came immediately from some of the more hardline members in Lyons' camp to crush them, while others broached the idea of reconciliation and trying to work with them.
All for moot as the split had left them weakened and distracted, struggling to keep the wasteland safe and secure what few government institutions they could, while watching the Outcasts undo all of it with every operation. Supermutants and raiders beset their holdings, wastelanders felt safer on their own, and morale was at an all time low within the Brotherhood itself. In the year 2277, the Enclave struck hard to reclaim their dominance. Within just a few short weeks they had sallied from Raven Rock and moved to seize several other government facilities from the Brotherhood, combined with their other issues leaving them reeling and unable to properly mount a counter-assault.
Yet still they did, and for all that the Enclave gave them, Khaliya and her comrades gave it back and more. Vicious battles broke out in DC as the two factions went to war over control of the city, many helpless to look on as power armor clashed, and it was here that the Swordwind came into being. She was still just a knight, but her ferocity was unmatched as she crashed into the Enclaves lines and spearheaded attack after attack alongside her friends and the paladins of the order. Whenever a squad was down a man and needed assistance, she was there, smashing through walls if she had to in order to savage the enemy's flanks and give them support. Khaliya earned herself a promotion to Paladin within a few battles, the Elders impressed not just with her dedication to winning the war, but with the skill that she prosecuted each battle. She was not just some berserker, the countless years of hard training had given her a skill that left her with the title "Swordwind" and the respect of her comrades.
The war didn't end for her or her squad-mates with the capture of the Purifier as it did for many, as the Enclave was not one to give up so easily. She tracked them down alongside Jeremiah and Sarah, working with the Lyon's Pride to ensure the total destruction of their enemy. All the way to Adam's Air Force Base and the Mobile Crawler did they push. This time it was not just taking the fight to a few squads here and there harassing them in the streets of DC, now they fought on the Enclave's home territory where they had time to dig in and fortify. All around her fellow knights and paladins fell to return fire, but even as she took multiple hits and her armor screamed of critical damage, she pressed on with the Pride. They crashed through the Enclave's lines and took the crawler, shattering the last bit of resistance and sending them running in every direction with whatever they could carry. Only when at last the Brotherhood flag rose above Adam's Air Force Base and it was fully in their hands, did Khaliya collapse in her armor and rest.
Days later she would awake, finding herself within the Citadel's medical wing with the rest of the wounded and surrounded by friends. Despite herself, she managed a laugh, knowing that she had several new scars to add to her collection and already looked towards working to better herself for next time. The next few months would pass easily, as much of the order was still riding high on the crushing defeat of the Enclave, the endless supply of advanced tech they had salvaged and a bright future that was just a little too good to be true.
In 2278 the wasteland took from them Elder Lyons. For many, it left all of their accomplishments hollow even if it had been a natural death. Sarah succeeded him, but it was simply not the same and there was a strange aura to the air. Khaliya felt it, and did her best to remain at her leader's side, becoming part of the Lyon's Pride and working constantly to do what she could to keep the mood up. That closeness helped for a few months and everything seemed steady until yet another fateful mission.
It was supposed to be a routine clean-up mission of Raven Rock, Sarah and the Pride would do a sweep as a show of force to any potential remnants, and then take a vertibird back to the Citadel to plan out some real operations. The rumble of radioactive thunder in the distant mountains was the first clue that things would go wrong, soon sleeting acid rain coming down and covering the slopes of the mountain facility. Still the squad pushed on, Khaliya and Sarah scouting the ruined entrance of the facility when suddenly they were under attack. Plasma fire came from the ridges in the cover of darkness and took down two of their number almost immediately. They fired back, but it had been a trap well sprung and they were not only outnumbered but outgunned and at a terrain disadvantage. Few details of what happened next have been spoken of by the survivors, Khaliya herself withdrawn over the short battle, but it ended in tragedy for the Brotherhood. Only three of the eight-man squad survived and of the dead Sarah Lyons had been found face-down with her power pack still burning from the plasma shot that killed her instantly.
The rather sudden death of their leader so short on the heels of their last, and with uncertainty high, the East Coast Brotherhood was left unable to sort themselves out. Khaliya had been placed on and off administrative leave as the revolving door of following leaders in the order continually flipped between blaming the survivors and seeking vengeance against anything and everything in the wastes. Trust with the wastelanders in general dips and the major settlements of the area begin to cut ties one by one until the Brotherhood once more stood alone. For her, it was just as tenuous as it was for everyone on the ground. Several times she had left the Citadel on mission only to be called back moments later when new information came in, or when another Elder canceled.
For two years it went on, and if not for Jeremiah she would have descended deeper into the drink than she already had. Their relationship changed from mere friends to lovers and married in that time, perhaps the only bright spot in a string of tragedies. Then it came time for her own.
On yet another possible dead-end mission, she had been sent out to scout an abandoned settlement far to the south of DC. Precious little information was given about it, only that one night it had been a somewhat active caravan stop on the coastal route, and then it was gone. Raiders hadn't been active there for months due to occasional Brotherhood presence, and it was too far south for Super mutants as far as they were aware. So it was that she had gone alone with a long-range radio and vertibird on standby. Her first clue that things had gone very wrong was the complete absence of animal life around the houses. Normally there would have been at least brahmin penned up, or the occasional mole rat snooping around the outskirts, but a quick scan from above revealed nothing.
Resolving to herself that she would take another look on foot, she called to the pilot to land and entered into the small town of Emporia on the old 95. Silence lingered, only the soft creak of buildings settling and the wind whipping through the alleys. She strode forward carefully, slowly beginning to get the feeling that things weren't right, and upon entering the city centre, she set eyes on the reason. Surrounded by corpses and resting in the shattered front of the courthouse building was a creature she had only heard rumors of, and all of them bad. It rose from its nest, fifteen feet of irradiated muscle and anger with burning coals for eyes set into a horned skull. Khaliya's instincts kicked in even before the window-shattering roar of the Deathclaw alpha, her power armor protesting as she did an about-face and made for the alleyways to outmaneuver it. She knew from first glance that there was little she could do at range to it, and it would be suicide to engage in close combat.
For the first time she felt true fear, an opponent that she could not best, and her frantic calls over the radio were met with the panicked response of the pilot who had heard the thundering footfalls heading straight towards the vertibird. It managed to take off before the creature's claws could rip it open, but that only meant that its attention was now fully focused on what it could reach. Khaliya immediately opened fire with her pistols, flashes of the bullets impacting against the Deathclaw's hardened carapace and doing nothing to slow its advance. She did what she could, freeing her sword and batting away the first swipes. It was an exercise in futility and she knew it, for eventually it simply grabbed the blade and snapped it in half.
What came next lingers still in her nightmares, making her wake in cold sweat and relive the traumatic event over and over. The sword broken and made useless, it knew she was defenseless and went in for the kill. Teeth and claws scrapped across her armor, piercing it and crushing her inside the suit. Bone broke from the sheer strength of the monstrous creature until either hunger or impatience drove it to rip and tear at her. Grasping her from the front, those claws sank into her T-60d armor and rent it open, ripping her free from the protective embrace and severing her left arm at the shoulder and shattering her leg below the knee. Even left in bloody ruins by the Deathclaw, Khaliya refused to simply give in, and made one last desperate attempt to at least take it with her. She plunged the remnant of her sword into the beast's gullet, stabbing upwards into its open maw and driving it deep into its skull until the teeth gripping her arm went slack. Her duty done, Khaliya laid back on the bloodied concrete, feeling her world grow steadily dimmer and unable to hear the voice in her ruined headset.
Luckily, while the pilot had lacked in enough spine to try and intervene in the assault, he had set down as soon as the beast was felled and made emergency calls to the Citadel for medical evac. Khaliya had very nearly died right there on the pavement of an obscure town, lost her sword and power armor and for a long time many others in the Brotherhood thought she wouldn't make it either. The sheer trauma of those final moments put her into a coma for three months, only barely alive. When she finally awoke, it was to the relieved faces of her husband and closest friends who had been visiting her daily in their off hours. She heard again the recount of the disastrous scouting mission, not just then but by everyone who came to visit. An endless procession of amazed comrades, initiates and Elders came by to show their wonder at the woman who had defeated an alpha deathclaw, but all she could see was the ruin of her body after she only barely survived.
Each accolade that was heaped onto her felt like another slash across her flesh, but she wore her mask once more and merely smiled at each one of them and accepted with grace. Even being awarded the rank of Star-Paladin felt hollow in its own way, and she began to withdraw from her normal activities under the excuse of dedicated herself to recovery and her new duties. They tried to make her go easy, but Khaliya refused. She would only accept full recovery or it would be as if she had not survived at all. Weeks passed and she gained some renewed maneuverability with her prosthetics, months for her combat form to be passable, and by the time the Brotherhood was finally back in order under Arthur Maxson, she was finally fully recovered.
It had been a long road for the former daughter of a merchant, one fraught with death and tragedy, but she met it head on with her own tenacity to survive no matter what. It was that dedication to facing the wasteland itself and coming out on top, alongside her considerable skill, that drew the attention of the Pariah. For Khaliya, to go into the Necropolis meant more though. For her it meant she could take one step closer to a hope of reclaiming the wastes for humanity once and for all, to show it could be conquered. So it was that she sent notification to the council and made her way to the Deadlands.
- Survival Characteristics -
Mechanical Engineering(Plasma Tech): Ever since she was old enough to talk and work with her hands, Khaliya has had experience with taking things apart and putting them back together. At first it was just a few odds and ends, but as her mind became sharp and she got older, she learned the intricacies of mechanics and basic physics. In time she was able to field strip, clean and reassemble her duty weapon with the Brotherhood without even looking, but her interest always stuck with the plasma weapons her parents had left her. With practice and using whatever information she could find from pre-war databases, Khaliya has become an expert on Plasma technology.
Songstress: Something she tends not to indulge in except after a few too many drinks, she actually has quite the gift when it comes to song. It mostly comes from years of listening to the echoes of America before the war and singing along to herself while on patrol.
Infiltrator: Due mostly to the nature of her duties Khaliya has a certain knack for inserting herself into a community in one way or another, adapting to the local customs and blending in. It all comes largely from her observation skills, though in a pinch she is always able to pull off something or another to get the job done just as well. She's been noted as being gifted at covert ops to the point where if she doesn't want to be found, she never will, something that the Elders have grown accustomed to, but irritates most others she works with.
Agriculture: A hobby at best, she picked up the basics years ago while studying some old documents left in a pre-war database. Khaliya's taken a liking to it though, often enough spending her off-hours that aren't drinking and flirting around in a bar watering her assorted plants. So far she's managed not to kill off her small garden back at base, and even cultivated a particularly potent hot pepper that has made many of her compatriots dread chili day.
| {Possessions} |Black MOLLE bag with BoS insignia patch
16x Assorted MREs
Purified water
Faded holotags
Unopened bottle of whiskey, possibly from before the war
| {Combat Skills} |Close Quarters Expert: In an age of power armor, laser weapons and nearly everything armed with some kind of gun, melee weapons and the skills to use them effectively would normally be considered a last resort. Not for Khaliya. Even with her plasma pistols at her side, she will always reach first for her sword or spear. It has taken years of dedication and practice, with weapons both improvised and specially made, but the Star-Paladin has become a force of nature in close-quarters, proving herself in countless battles across the Capital Wasteland and beyond.
The Swordwind: Above all else though, it is the sword which has not only earned her title, but has saved her life and the lives of her comrades many times over. With her blade "Perihelion" in hand, she becomes something else, wheeling and spinning with it to slash and thrust from every angle. She has mastered the art of the sword to a degree that she has refined her own specific style of swordplay and excels in close combat. Even in power armor, it is a fluid and dynamic style that relies on constant motion and weathering attacks, beating down her opponents with either a thousand cuts or precise and efficient assaults from every angle. It is for that reason the Brotherhood has called her "The Swordwind" for to try and stop her is tantamount to trying to stop the northeasterly winds.
Pistolier: Mostly out of the insistence of an old friend, Khaliya picked up a pistol years ago and learned how to use it effectively for those times when an enemy was just out of reach of the sword. Time and patience allowed her to hone the skill, eventually getting another and using them in tandem. After her "incident" she realized the folly of relying solely on her skill in melee combat and that was when she leaned fully into learning to use her pistols effectively.
Power Armor Training: An expected skill, Khaliya has almost fifteen years of experience using and maintaining power armor frames and the armor itself to the point where it's almost like a second skin for her.
None Can Stay My Wrath: For a woman who stands shorter than most, and has had to have custom-built power armor, Khaliya has a staying power on the battlefield that speaks of an iron will and refusal to give a single inch of ground. She has stormed through the withering hail of laser and plasma fire from Enclave troops at the Purifier, faced down the worst of the wasteland, and no matter how badly wounded she gets, she refuses to back down. No, instead she pushes forward and becomes more aggressive, calling out to her comrades with inspiring quotes and working the lines. It is a double-edged sword though, this tenacity of hers, for more than once it has left her on her back in the medical wing for months after a battle that had been won, but should have been withdrawn from.
| {Gear} |Holotags - Current
Hazmat suit
Mr Gutsy Flamethrower arm
Case of Microfusion cells
Spare fusion core
Modified Power armor frame with half-way depleted fusion core
T-60a series power armor
"Perihelion" - Her first sword reforged and heavily modified, it is this weapon specifically that earned her the name "The Swordwind". Based primarily on an old Chinese Liuyedao found within a museum, it has since been chipped, shattered and broken in numerous battles to be repaired, reforged and born anew stronger each time. Khaliya has extended the blade twice to a full length of 48 inches and enhanced it to electrify at the press of a button hidden within the hilt. It has served her well for years, and the slight hum of the microfusion cell in the pommel brings her comfort like few things can anymore.
"Aphelion" - Unlike most weapons that fail to hold her interest beyond idle practice, this spear in particular has been of great use in more than one way over the years. Just like her main-hand, Aphelion has seen significant modification in order to enhance the killing potential to maximum. Featuring barbed hooks on each prong of the trident head, the haft has been reinforced with a wrap of tungsten welded to the steel core to keep it sturdy. What is truly unique about the spear though, is not something as mundane as electrifying the tip or making it light on fire. No, Khaliya wanted something else when it came to Aphelion, and under the supervision of the Scribes, she installed miniature rockets into the base of the head connected to an internal gyroscope. With just a simple thrust forward they ignite, significantly boosting the impact force. More often than not though, she uses it as a ranged weapon on its own, hurling it forward as a rocket-propelled spear.
"Solstice and Equinox" - Long ago her parents had salvaged a pair of plasma rifles from some forgotten conflict on the East Coast, restored them over the years and eventually passing them into their daughter's hands. At first they simply resided in her quarters as mementos and something to practice on when needed, but with the insistence of her closest comrades, she looked at them as weapons of her own. Not being skilled with rifles by any means, she took out the critical components and adapted them into the frames of a pair of 9mm pistols with all the skill she had to force them to work. At the end of it, she managed a haphazard set of plasma pistols, but she wasn't done with them by any means. Despite her incident in Emporia and her distaste of sitting still, she took that downtime as ample opportunity to further modify the relics of her parents. Through tinkering and borrowing of parts, she turned them from makeshift pistols into the weapons they are today. Nearly identical except for a few markings to set them apart and indicate holster, both plasma pistols are fully-automatic weapons capable of bursting out an entire cell within seconds to deliver lethal fusillades of plasma fire.
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