"Whoa, whoa! Watch the controls!! You almost sent the ship into 12 g turn. Only I'm allowed to do that."
Name: Wekan-Jha Harek
Nicknames/Titles: Wex, Sparky, Slippery Little Shit
Age: 43, roughly 25 years old in human terms
Gender: Male
Ship Role: Helmsman
Race: Elkhane
4328 VB Vesper-C is a name (or rather, a designation) that holds no meaning to your average, working class, clock-punching spacer fresh out of the Belts. Not only because of its location - far out on the edge of charted space - but also for the large, helpful, bright-red 'HAZARDOUS' marking appended to it on the aforementioned space charts, which has the magical affect of causing most bridge navigation officers to avoid the system entirely, and then promptly forget about it thirty seconds after the fact.
Indeed, Vesper-C doesn't even mean anything to the native inhabitants of the planet, who instead refer to it by the same name that they have for thousands of years: Hane Jhal. Home Sea.
Only dedicated academics and explorers thus refer to the planet this as Vesper-C. Not because of a contempt for the clearly sapient, civilized inhabitants of the planet, but because the planet itself repels almost every attempt to explore and categorize it, preventing the proper name for it and its inhabitants to become widespread. Even though "Vesperians" have started to become more common sights in spaceports, battlefields and (unfortunately) slave pens the Galaxy over, their origins are still poorly understood.
Hane Jhal is a rocky, terrestrial world that is notably larger than average, and with an entirely different core composition than worlds such as Earth. As a result, its magnetic field is absurdly strong. Metals such as iron are impossible to use in any practical sense while on the surface, as they will inevitably end up flying away (usually ripping through something important on the way) in the direction of the poles. This, as you can imagine, has especially unfortunate implications when it comes to the arrival of the largely metallic landing craft of visitors. Everything carries an unseen electrical charge - even, and especially, the native lifeforms. Thunderstorms are especially powerful, flashy, and devastating. Most forms of short-range communication are completely useless, as well as unheard of by the Elkhane. And, while cosmic radiation has almost no effect on the majority of the planet, there are hidden bands of extremely concentrated radiation near the most extreme points of the poles and the equator that only the Elkhane know the exact location of. To top it all off, every night almost the entire planetary sky is covered in intense aurorae, almost entirely obscuring the night sky.
Knowing all of this, it's a wonder that the Elkhane ever made it to the greater Galactic stage at all.
Out of such a hostile environment came a resilient, yet isolationist dominant species.
The Elkhane evolved from a species of serpent-like creatures dwelling in the shallow waters of the world's oceans, not unlike the electric eels of Earth. Like almost all other creatures on the planet, they evolved a complex navigational system that allowed them to pinpoint their location on the planet using both the electrical currents in their immediate environment and the magnetic energy across the globe. It is very, very difficult for an Elkhani to get lost on their own turf. However, take one to space for the first time, and the sudden loss of these extra senses is enough to render them completely catatonic for hours, if not days.
Elkhane are bipedal and roughly human-shaped, though that is where the similarities end. They have tough, rubbery blue or green skin and a head that is craggy and eel-like with a strong jaw full of pointed teeth. Their eyes are solid yellow or green, and each one has a pattern on their skin that glows faintly in the dark with mesmerizing bioluminescent patterns. Because of this, stealth is not the ideal role for an Elkhani. In fact, those that find themselves in need of some discretion tend to wear full-body concealing suits out in public, in order to hide their glow.
Elkhane are particularly receptive to the electric current in their surroundings, having evolved with several special organs that allow manipulation of these currents in coordination with their nervous system. Almost every Elkhani has the ability to pull in a small amount of the electricity in their immediate surroundings in order to increase the speed that their brains process and react to information, leading to inhumanly quick reaction times and incredibly well-adjusted snap decisions. If they experience highly stressful or traumatic situations on the regular, some even have the ability to do the reverse, using their own bodies to provide extra power to nearby electronics. There are even mythical accounts of highly skilled individuals harnessing electricity directly to kill or incapacitate their enemies, though this is generally believed to be made up by storytellers for dramatic effect.
Because of the hostile conditions of their planet and the particular path their technological development took, Elkhane society is extremely isolationist, clan-based and static. They live in massive, heavily fortified cities in order to protect themselves from extreme weather phenomena and the rare enemy invasion, and prefer not to explore or wander outside of their own territories. Many Elkhani never actually end up interacting with others from a different state, being incredibly sensitive to differences in dialect, dress, customs and norms.
Again because of planetary conditions and because of this deeply-ingrained stagnancy, the Elkhane never attempted to leave their own planet. They became aware of life outside of their own world when the first abortive attempts at exploration occurred, with debris from rapidly dismantled starships raining down amongst their cities and oceans. When the first successful contact finally occurred, with certain species landing in entirely non-magnetic spacecraft to facilitate diplomacy, celebration occurred on both sides of the interaction. As things go, however, the peaceful delegation was soon followed by one with much less benevolent intentions.
A few years after these first few peaceful interactions, slavers and raiders using ships of a similar design ruthlessly attacked Hane Jhal, abducting massive groups of Elkhani to be sold as servants, highly-trained guards, or pit fighters, among other things. They set up permanent bases in conquered cities on the planet, beginning a long and bitter border war with the surviving and much better defended Elkhani states. This conflict still rages on, with intervention unlikely as the planet goes largely unnoticed by the higher powers meant to uphold justice among the factions of the Galaxy.
Personality: The little pilot has a notable reputation as being a bit dodgy, not really worthy of your trust or reliance. For the most part, this is true, as Wex is a criminal with little in the way of moral hangups when it comes to self preservation. If it comes down to it, he'll steal the boots off your feet and leave you stranded. However, he is also a consummate professional when it comes to his trade, and if his job is to pilot a crew to safely, he takes it very seriously as long as he is able. As well, despite his bad character, he does occasionally have soft spots for certain people, and he does not murder or maim in cold blood.
He covers his calculating true self with a talkative, joking and sarcastic persona, much to the annoyance of everyone within earshot of him at any given time. This, too, has a purpose: it allows him to identify those most likely to space him in any group of people so that he can better keep an eye on them.
Biography: Wex was only a child when he, along with most of those in his community, were taken off-world by slavers. Though only just poised to enter adolescence, the young Elkhani had already gained a certain reputation amongst those in his city. Unlike most of the Elkhane, Wex was something of a free spirit, resenting the unchanging conditions of his people's society and longing for freedom and adventure. His wish had been granted, in some strange and twisted sense. He was separated from his family and roughly introduced to Galactic society as he was forced to begin the life of a slave.
Somehow, though, the young man's spirit was not broken by such an awful experience. No stranger to stealing the land and watercraft of his own people before being taken, he had developed a natural affinity for learning to pilot almost anything. After spending some time familiarizing himself as much as he could with the new technology of his captors, he launched an escape attempt, piloting an unattended spacecraft away from the station he had been held on. However, he only made it so far, having no comprehension of things such as faster-than-light travel, before he was easily recaptured.
The punishment for escape was brutal. Wex spent time both in torture chambers and in the most brutal, backbreaking working conditions on the station. He also never saw any of his species again. However, after a year he managed to devise a second escape attempt, which this time managed to succeed. However, his time as a slave had changed him. Though still using his carefree and jovial nature as a shield, Wex was now someone permanently in "survival mode," ready to do anything, or abandon anyone, in order to continue his existence. Having nothing to his name when he reached his first free spaceport, he managed to sign on as a pilot for a freighter. Though his piloting skills were noted to be exceptional, his reputation as a liar, a thief and a cheat ensured he did not last long. As the years went by, Wex continued to drift from bad crews, to worse crews, embedding himself deeper into the unsavory underbelly of the Galaxy whilst never staying in the same place for very long lest someone recognize his face as a fugitive slave with an outstanding bounty.
Though he never managed to stay in a crew's good graces for long, Wex survived on account of his distrustful nature and his reputation as a fantastic pilot, making him an invaluable asset. After a particularly close call on a botched job, Wex again found himself unemployed when he was contacted by Captain Kura. With precious little in the way of other options and the constant pressure on his back to keep from staying in the same place for too long, Wex immediately signed on as pilot of the Galatea, and helmsman for this strange new crew.
Powers/Skills:
Electrical Manipulation: Like the rest of his species, Wex has the ability to manipulate electric currents in his vicinity. For him, this usually is used to assist in his piloting, though it can have some detrimental effects. Bridge crews have often complained that, during particularly intense situations requiring complex flight maneuvers, their bridge consoles mysteriously short out. The lighting in the bridge has also been known to flicker and dim, and the electronics suddenly make strange noises at odd times when Wex is sitting in the pilot's chair. Wex has developed a particular skill at flying craft even without the use of some critical subsystems because of this. Because of his treatment as a slave, Wex is one of the few that can also occasionally cause the reverse effect. He likes to boast that he can make the engines on a small craft "go to 11."
Raw Piloting Ability: Even among a species noted for their capability as pilots, Wex is among the best, having been behind the controls of some craft or another since he was a child.
Shooting: What he lacks in physical strength, Wex makes up for in his ability to outdraw most opponents, firing off deadly and accurate shots with his sidearm before they can react.
Loudmouth: On account of never receiving a formal education, Wex has an extremely basic vocabulary. On the other hand, though, he has picked up an encyclopedic knowledge of various curses, rude phrases, and obscene gestures in the common languages as well as the obscure, and is able to string them together with devastating effect. His inability to ever shut up pairs rather well with this particular talent.
Equipment:
Prototype Plasma Magnum: This experimental sidearm was one of the things that Wex swiped during his second escape attempt from the slavers that ripped him from his homeworld (who had themselves previously swiped it from a military convoy), and it has been at his side ever since. Eight shots per cylinder, with a hair-trigger - this baby can punch a hole through the thickest of alien noggins, provided they're uncovered. The barrel is as big around as his hand, so it cannot be concealed, but oftentimes this works in his favor as its presence on his hip keeps the dumber brutes on any given crew from trying to take Wex out of the picture for whatever reason.
Magnetic Neural Compensator: Fits around the back of Wex's head, and is usually concealed under a wide-brimmed hat. This device is essential to allowing the Elkhani to function normally, as it prevents the usually disorienting side effects of being deprived of the strong magnetic field of his native environment. Without it, he will be subject to extreme confusion, lack of coordination, and severe headaches, to name a few.
Flash Grenades: Think fast! *BANG*
These aren't particularly useful for many situations, but one or two of them are easy enough to conceal and invaluable for allowing a certain criminal to get out of a tough spot.
Other:
Wex is only partially literate in anything other than his native language. Who has time to read, anyway?
While the average height for males of his species is only around 5'5", he's a particularly small and scrawny specimen at around 5'2".
There's a slave brand on the small of his back which is typically concealed by heavy clothing. I mean, is it cold on this ship, or what? Brr.
For my favorite sci-fi, my first and greatest love is Star Wars, though that's more fantasy in space than real sci-fi. I'm a big fan of the Alien franchise, and I've been getting into Star Trek a little through The Next Generation, though it's definitely not what I'm used to. I also really enjoy some of the old 4X space strategy games like Sword of the Stars and Sins of a Solar Empire.
Appearance: Rish presents something of an oddity: an elf that seems wholly un-elvish. Even from a quick glance, he appears just a bit too rough around the edges. His head seems to have been recently (and hastily) shaved clean, leaving only the faintest, ghostly remnant of fine black hair and revealing the prominent pointed ears of his race. His fingers, though long and clever, are pocked and marred by old swellings and burn scars, and the sharp features of his face are offset by a slightly crooked broken nose. Most alarmingly, he is dressed not in noble finery or the humble but deceptively well made garments of elven folk, but rather in a pauper's roughspun cloth outfit, worn with travel stains and spattered with mud. In contrast, a pair of simple but well-maintained boots covers his feet. Light green eyes regard the world from under his thin brows, though there is no spark of vigor or mischief within them; instead they seem flat and grim, focused but uninspired.
Background: Officially, little is known of the criminal called "Rish." The company of elves that delivered him for transport to the Frontiers stated only that he was guilty of theft and murder, and was to be sent into exile alongside the rest of the travelers. Unsurprisingly, the convict had little else to share about himself, other than that he was hoping to find work when they reached their destination. Anyone well-traveled enough, and in the possession of a particularly sharp pair of eyes and ears, may note some uncanny resemblance to the famed Court Blacksmith of Moonhollow, Sydrishel Fithraen, whom recently disappeared under mysterious circumstances alongside his wife and longtime partner in the trade. Afterwards, it is said, the heads of House Fithraen moved quickly to stamp out any rumor or mention of his name. "Rish," of course, claims to have never heard of this blacksmith, or been to the great canyons of Moonhollow.
Personality: Rish is quiet and world-weary, with a notable lack of ambition or greater aspiration regarding his prospects in the Frontiers; instead, he has openly professed his desire to live a simple existence doing small-time jobs for the remainder of his long life. When he does set out to do something, though, Rish fulfills his task, whatever it may be, to the end, with inexhaustible focus and attention to detail. Somehow, one gets the feeling that this old elf won't get his wish of a quiet retirement in exile.
Inventory: Rish carries little on his person, though he does have a small pack containing three torches, several days' worth of dried rations, a waterskin, and flint and firestarter. As a criminal, he came with no personal belongings or weaponry, though his captors did provide the driver of the carriage with a small belt knife and a simple wooden cudgel to be given over to him when they reached their destination.
Appearance: Rish presents something of an oddity: an elf that seems wholly un-elvish. Even from a quick glance, he appears just a bit too rough around the edges. His head seems to have been recently (and hastily) shaved clean, leaving only the faintest, ghostly remnant of fine black hair and revealing the prominent pointed ears of his race. His fingers, though long and clever, are pocked and marred by old swellings and burn scars, and the sharp features of his face are offset by a slightly crooked broken nose. Most alarmingly, he is dressed not in noble finery or the humble but deceptively well made garments of elven folk, but rather in a pauper's roughspun cloth outfit, worn with travel stains and spattered with mud. In contrast, a pair of simple but well-maintained boots covers his feet. Light green eyes regard the world from under his thin brows, though there is no spark of vigor or mischief within them; instead they seem flat and grim, focused but uninspired.
Background: Officially, little is known of the criminal called "Rish." The company of elves that delivered him for transport to the Frontiers stated only that he was guilty of theft and murder, and was to be sent into exile alongside the rest of the travelers. Unsurprisingly, the convict had little else to share about himself, other than that he was hoping to find work when they reached their destination. Anyone well-traveled enough, and in the possession of a particularly sharp pair of eyes and ears, may note some uncanny resemblance to the famed Court Blacksmith of Moonhollow, Sydrishel Fithraen, whom recently disappeared under mysterious circumstances alongside his wife and longtime partner in the trade. Afterwards, it is said, the heads of House Fithraen moved quickly to stamp out any rumor or mention of his name. "Rish," of course, claims to have never heard of this blacksmith, or been to the great canyons of Moonhollow.
Personality: Rish is quiet and world-weary, with a notable lack of ambition or greater aspiration regarding his prospects in the Frontiers; instead, he has openly professed his desire to live a simple existence doing small-time jobs for the remainder of his long life. When he does set out to do something, though, Rish fulfills his task, whatever it may be, to the end, with inexhaustible focus and attention to detail. Somehow, one gets the feeling that this old elf won't get his wish of a quiet retirement in exile.
Inventory: Rish carries little on his person, though he does have a small pack containing three torches, several days' worth of dried rations, a waterskin, and flint and firestarter. As a criminal, he came with no personal belongings or weaponry, though his captors did provide the driver of the carriage with a small belt knife and a simple wooden cudgel to be given over to him when they reached their destination.
@Bastian sounds good, so like a criminal of some kind?
Yeah. Not an edgy criminal, though. More like someone that made a singular, very bad choice and is now living in perpetual guilt and remorse, perhaps trying to find their own small way to make amends in this new environment.
Still brainstorming. I'll try to work on a sheet either tonight or tomorrow!
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