I think Jeyma is still working on a CS, so until that is up I have no idea which of those roles they'd take. The rest of that count is probably more accurate than anything I'd come up with.
@Iuniper Pretty sure we are? But I'm not in charge, so...
@Synthorian So just, like, love of battle? Mercenary work is definitely the way to go. I don't know the regular armies would like bloodthirst so much as obedience.
Ahk-krat-rahz(only a close representation that humans can pronounce) is from a long-lived and intelligent race of apex predators that has been a member state of the Valnaur Empire for a very long time. While most people tend to assume the Zkz'Karnis are insects due to their hexipedal, carapace covered bodies and mandibled faces, but are actually more a cross between a theropod and an amphibious crustacean, though using either of those words to describe one within earshot may get you killed. Despite their average size of ten feet, with a length of fifteen, and a mass that makes star travel somewhat obnoxious for them, they took to it like Frzi-zashs to liquid nourishment. Tool use is possible because of both very fine motor skills with mandibles and a pair of dangling forelimbs located just beneath where the long neck meets the main body. The head is balanced out by a stubby tail, developed in evolution for that singular purpose. Their heads are generally covered in elaborate crests except for immediately after mating season, though the females tend to keep them on their entire lives. While their carapace makes them impossible to bring down for most of the other species on their homeworld, it turns out that larger calibre modern arms, and especially energy weapons, have little issue killing them. The first years after their conquering by the Empire were particularly difficult, as they do not have many hatchlings during any successful breeding.
Ahk's carapace is mottled with light and dark browns, reds, and greys. Scarring across her thick carapace from multiple sources she does not discuss shines like the inside of an abalone shell, from minerals deposits that cause its growth, and give her a grizzled appearance. Unusual for her species, there are no clan markings painted onto her sides or armoured legs, and she wears no crest at all, leaving the top of her head bare except for the ridged carapace plates there.
The Zkz'Karnis are a caste system society, mostly based on logic and merit. However, Ahk was unfortunate enough to be hatched to the lowest class on the planet, those that are sand-coloured. While originally because food was scare and their colouring made it difficult to hunt well in the jungles, the stigma has stuck with this particular caste so much that they are actually being bred out slowly, as it is rare that they find a mate with their normally green brethren.
Seeing no opportunity for a mate nor a good life on her homeworld, Ahk studied hard at university, in topics as diverse as engineering, art, sociology, and archaeology, once she found out that her university was one of the best for xenobiology, and offered a transfer program to other systems, she knew she had found her answer. Thirty years later, she is a very accomplished xenobiologist and surgeon, capable of performing life saving techniques and stopping virulent plagues in most of the known system. However, no hospital has so far been willing to hire a giant, flesh-eating insect for their medical programs, and she had to do her entire residencies by virtual reality interfaces. To pay for the extremely costly education, Ahk has had to rely on her other well-developed skillset, programming. She is capable of developing tools for several of the most universal languages, and has developed her own assistant AI for dealing with diagnoses and day-to-day problems encountered with communications. The species is not capable of naturally speaking Humanitas, and must rely on translators, something the Empire has used as an economic dampener on their growth by making them prohibitively expensive. Ahk has gotten around this by making her own.
But programming is not allowing her to catch up on her bills, and criminal activity is not in nature. The Empire would make her a grunt were she to try and join the military, as no other species seems to recognise that the Zkz'Karnis are actually smarter than the beasts they look like. So she has put out her name into the mercenary circles, hoping that some enterprising leader will take a chance on one of the more accomplished doctors in the sector. Others were swift to point her to the planet of Taenarum, and seeing no other option, she has added to her already considerable debt to make it there and set herself up in the tiniest possible rooms while awaiting with trepidation for someone to hire her despite her lack of combat experience.
Name Pronounciation: awk-CRAYT-raj tank-izj-RAJ
Actual physical dimensions for Ahk, for easy reference Height: 8'4", capable of lowering her head down to 6'10" to fit through human sized passages with difficulty. Length: 13' width: 9' 6", legs can squeeze in to fit corridors as small as 6'6" with difficulty. Forelimbs have six digits with four joints each, that fold up into pockets on the carapace for protection. Ends of legs are blunt, but capable of driving into wood for climbing purposes, though too heavy to climb very high. The two foremost legs are thicker to allow for burrowing. The mouth is framed by four mandibles with a light carapace plating, capable of finger-like manipulation. Tipped with tooth-ish protrusions. The head is very much like a Tyrannosaurus, though plated with carapace. The species evolved on a high gravity planet, so low-grav environs tend to be extremely uncomfortable.
Ahk-krat-rahz(only a close representation that humans can pronounce) is from a long-lived and intelligent race of apex predators that has been a member state of the Valnaur Empire for a very long time. While most people tend to assume the Zkz'Karnis are insects due to their hexipedal, carapace covered bodies and mandibled faces, but are actually more a cross between a theropod and an amphibious crustacean, though using either of those words to describe one within earshot may get you killed. Despite their average size of ten feet, with a length of fifteen, and a mass that makes star travel somewhat obnoxious for them, they took to it like Frzi-zashs to liquid nourishment. Tool use is possible because of both very fine motor skills with mandibles and a pair of dangling forelimbs located just beneath where the long neck meets the main body. The head is balanced out by a stubby tail, developed in evolution for that singular purpose. Their heads are generally covered in elaborate crests except for immediately after mating season, though the females tend to keep them on their entire lives. While their carapace makes them impossible to bring down for most of the other species on their homeworld, it turns out that larger calibre modern arms, and especially energy weapons, have little issue killing them. The first years after their conquering by the Empire were particularly difficult, as they do not have many hatchlings during any successful breeding.
Ahk's carapace is mottled with light and dark browns, reds, and greys. Scarring across her thick carapace from multiple sources she does not discuss shines like the inside of an abalone shell, from minerals deposits that cause its growth, and give her a grizzled appearance. Unusual for her species, there are no clan markings painted onto her sides or armoured legs, and she wears no crest at all, leaving the top of her head bare except for the ridged carapace plates there.
The Zkz'Karnis are a caste system society, mostly based on logic and merit. However, Ahk was unfortunate enough to be hatched to the lowest class on the planet, those that are sand-coloured. While originally because food was scare and their colouring made it difficult to hunt well in the jungles, the stigma has stuck with this particular caste so much that they are actually being bred out slowly, as it is rare that they find a mate with their normally green brethren.
Seeing no opportunity for a mate nor a good life on her homeworld, Ahk studied hard at university, in topics as diverse as engineering, art, sociology, and archaeology, once she found out that her university was one of the best for xenobiology, and offered a transfer program to other systems, she knew she had found her answer. Thirty years later, she is a very accomplished xenobiologist and surgeon, capable of performing life saving techniques and stopping virulent plagues in most of the known system. However, no hospital has so far been willing to hire a giant, flesh-eating insect for their medical programs, and she had to do her entire residencies by virtual reality interfaces. To pay for the extremely costly education, Ahk has had to rely on her other well-developed skillset, programming. She is capable of developing tools for several of the most universal languages, and has developed her own assistant AI for dealing with diagnoses and day-to-day problems encountered with communications. The species is not capable of naturally speaking Humanitas, and must rely on translators, something the Empire has used as an economic dampener on their growth by making them prohibitively expensive. Ahk has gotten around this by making her own.
But programming is not allowing her to catch up on her bills, and criminal activity is not in nature. The Empire would make her a grunt were she to try and join the military, as no other species seems to recognise that the Zkz'Karnis are actually smarter than the beasts they look like. So she has put out her name into the mercenary circles, hoping that some enterprising leader will take a chance on one of the more accomplished doctors in the sector. Others were swift to point her to the planet of Taenarum, and seeing no other option, she has added to her already considerable debt to make it there and set herself up in the tiniest possible rooms while awaiting with trepidation for someone to hire her despite her lack of combat experience.
I am looking for some sort of art to help with visualisation, but it's been somewhat difficult to find anything that isn't a damn bug.
Edit:
Height: 8'4", capable of lowering her head down to 6'10" to fit through human sized passages with difficulty. Length: 13' width: 9' 6", legs can squeeze in to fit corridors as small as 6'6" with difficulty. Forelimbs have six digits with four joints each, that fold up into pockets on the carapace for protection. Ends of legs are blunt, but capable of driving into wood for climbing purposes, though too heavy to climb very high. The two foremost legs are thicker to allow for burrowing. The mouth is framed by four mandibles with a light carapace plating, capable of finger-like manipulation. Tipped with tooth-ish protrusions. The head is very much like a Tyrannosaurus, though plated with carapace. The species evolved on a high gravity planet, so low-grav environs tend to be extremely uncomfortable.
I would like to forward my interest, specifically in filling a hole that doesn't look like it has been considered, and put forth an application for a medic. But I do have a few questions that you may have answered and I missed, so forgive me if any these are redundant:
How advanced is technology? I know you listed several series that I am unfamiliar with, but just a galactic average on computer science, data storage, food processing, flight technology, etc, would be neat. I understand GURPS Tech Levels, if that helps.
You did say that aliens were okay, but also said you wanted a mostly human team. Xenobiology would kind of be necessary either way, I suppose, but how many species are well known enough for a human to learn medical practises for them?
More on tech: How are you getting around the travel times between stars? FTL, cold storage, something else fun and exciting?
If I do end up making an alien, precisely how truly alien can I get? Size would be a problem on a human built ship, as would certain biological issues, so that question becomes somewhat important.
Serious caution. This post is not going to be a fun ride. So, y'know. Trigger warning in effect, especially for depressive issues and violence.
The Wayward Center, Lost Haven 5:36 AM
It had been hours. Maybe days. Nicole glanced at the clock on the wall of the little room they had placed her in, from her position on the bed, where she had flopped down. Ah. Five minutes. Maybe I should get a watch. The image of her father's wrist flickered through her mind, and she almost lost it again. Instinct caused her to curl up defensively, hands over her ears, but she managed to fend of the flashback this time. Her eyes still brimmed with tears, though.
The woman, Alice, had talked her down, though it had been kind of a close thing. After she had come down, deep, inky darkness had clouded into her mind. It choked her thoughts, except for one driving one that came on the edge of it like flotsam on the tide. I should have died with them. It had taken Alice and two other people to wrestle the knife out of her hands, but not before she had broken it against her wrist, screaming at them to just let her die. But it was useless. As she had begun to suspect weeks ago, she couldn't die. Not of starvation, explosions, or knives, at least. She had some sort of impenetrable forcefield around her or something.
They had managed to calm her down, and move her to this room, explaining it was hers now. Stay here as long as you need, please try not disturb others but if it's an emergency come get us, etcetera. Blegh. The blackness hadn't lasted long anyway, though now that she knew it was there, she could feel it. Crawling, oozing, trying to find a way past the hasty mental barriers she had erected. She had heard Alice saying no to a hospital, which was good. Nicky hadn't been to one before, but she was not looking forward to finding out she was crazy, nor trying to see if pills would work. She somehow doubted it.
The room was nice. No window, but the little bed was just comfortable enough to allow her to lie down without hating everything. Then again, for all she knew, it could be cardboard. She hadn't been uncomfortable since...Anyway. It had a scratchy wool blanket, blue and green plaid, and nice white sheets. The floor was some sort of dark hardwood, like downstairs, but here she had a thick rug to walk on. A little chest of drawers sat across from her, and a little hand mirror sat on top of that. Otherwise it was bare, but maybe they usually got people with stuff when they came here. As it was, she was in a hotel room, essentially, at least what she had always thought one was. That's what they looked like in the little detective stories her Dad had read to...Shit.
Well, breakfast would be soon. She'd probably eat, if only to make herself feel halfway normal. huh. Wonder if I can still poop. She picked herself up off of the bed, checked that she wasn't completely unpresentable, and opened the hallway door. She hadn't been paying much attention when she came up the stairs, which were at the cross of a T-intersection of hallways. Her room was at the far end of the right hand as she came up, with a door right next to the window. She glanced outside.
The blonde cop from last night was outside, just coming through the gate, chatting with Alice. Her partner was leaning against the wall, just lighting a cigarette. They both looked like they had come off a long shift. Maybe they've come because you're more trouble than you're worth, the little voice echoed from the ooze in her mind. She shook her head and began padding down the hall. Another girl was coming out of the room across the way from her. Couldn't be more than eleven or twelve, wearing a pink nightshirt. She waved at Nicky timidly, and was too adorable for Nicky to not respond in kind.
“Did you just get here?” the little girl asked as the both approached the stairwell, which Nicky honestly thought belonged in some fancy movie and not a halfway house. She nodded dumbly.
“Well, I know it's scary, but I'm Mandy. I've been here three months now. It's not so bad!” The girl's voice was squeaky, but not quite enough to be annoying.
“Yeah, uh. I got in last night. I'm Nicole.” She managed a half smile as they both reached the stairway. The little girl paused before stepping down, holding her arms out straight and hovering just before taking each step.
“Oh yeah? That's cool. I like Alice, she's really nice. What's your power?”
Nicky stopped between steps. What the hell was her power? “Um. I'm invincible, I think.”
Mandy spun on the bottom step and stared at her, with brown eyes that seemed to grow with every second. “Whoooooa! That. Is. Awesome!” She took off running for the kitchen, yelling to someone. Alice had just walked in with the blonde cop, and looked up and smiled at Nicky, calling across the lobby.
“So, you feel up to joining the rest of us for breakfast, Miss MacNamara?”
“Yeah, I figured I could be a normal hu-” Glass crashed upstairs. All three women froze in place. Nicky raised one eyebrow. “One of the more rambunctious residents?” There was a pop, like a firecracker. Two more windows broke, and the blonde's radio went off. She bent her head to it.
“Say again, Alfie?”
”-peat, building is under attack!” There were the sounds of gunshots, a rough staccato, both from the windows and the radio. ”It's those assholes from the teevee, Pat! Get the kids out now!”
The side rooms began filling with smoke, as did the top of the stairs. Screams echoed from the kitchen. Alice moved like a thunderbolt, waving kids out and into the rear hall, but she looked up the stairs with terror. Nicky heard her mutter, “...too early.”
The blackness came back, almost absurdly fast, whispering in the back of her mind that this would happen to every home she ever had, but Nicky was beyond depression now. Her sadness and fear had leaked out earlier, cried into a river in the arms of a woman who obviously had only one thing on her mind. She knew she would use the boiling in her mind in a moment, but Alice was right. Kids first.
The teenager fairly flew up the steps, grabbing three kids, one older than her it seemed, and two adults, guiding them through the smoke that was obviously blinding and choking them. Mark up another thing I'm immune to, I guess. She led them down the stairs, where Patricia the Policewoman was standing guard, calling into her radio for back up. When they passed, she moved with them, pointing her gun towards the front door. Which gave them no cover when Nicky thought a thousand wasps flew through the side windows. Both adults with her, one of whom was an old man, and one of the kids dropped like stones. The other two ran for the back rooms where the rest were presumably hiding. Nicky stared in horror, frozen in place, staring at a twelve year old boys sightless eyes staring up. He had been hit in the side of the head. She felt Patricia's hands tugging at her, but she shook her off.
Low animal sounds started in her throat, and she felt the anger from the streets boil up again. The day her family died. Those two assholes on the highway here. The Triads. The abuses she had faced every day walking to and from school. The powerlessness of Icon to do anything. The police, blaming her. Everything roiled in her mind. She felt herself move a couple of times as bullets struck her, and the blackness a the edge of her vision was burned away with white hot rage.
Which is, of course, when the power cut off, leaving only smoky haze and hints of sunlight at the edge. Nicky could see no targets until the little green lasers clicked on and the enemy charged through the front door. They were already firing. They obviously were not police, and they certainly not taking prisoners. Nicky bent down, heedless of the gunfire, and snatched up something glittering in the darkness. Glass. This'll work. Making sure it was steady in her grip, she lunged up from her kneeling position and slammed the shard as hard as she could, up under the visor on the helmet of the first soldier to reach her, screaming so loud she would have ripped her vocal cords apart if that were still possible. She saw the gout of blood as the man fell, screaming his own cry.
I may not be like Icon, she thought as she rode the man to the ground, still carrying through in her leap. I may not be any stronger or faster than you fuckers. She picked up the dead man's assault rifle, spinning it around inexpertly, but managing to pull it up to a hip firing position. I may not be super strong, or fling lightning, and be faster than the bullets. She spun to the side as a round hit her shoulder, pointing her now in the direction of the lasers. Two flashlights lit her up, showing her face, spattered in blood and shaking, almost vibrating with rage. ”But I can sure as hell pull a fucking trigger, motherfuckers!”
The clip emptied way faster than she was expecting, but she had gotten at least three of them. Hard to tell in the light. Bullets kept knocking her around, disorienting her, so she ran at the nearest laser. She couldn't see anything remotely well enough in the fog, so she gripped her now empty rifle by the barrel and swung it like a baseball bat in front of her, pleasantly surprised by the impact. Less pleasant was the explosion of force that hit her from the side, directly into her head, and set her spinning sideways in a complete circle before hitting the ground hard.
They made the terrible mistake of thinking she was dead, so she did not hesitate, but snatched the gun that had hit her from another man's shocked grasp, sliding it down until she found the trigger and turned it to blow a blast into one of his friends. It flared blue, and shot a gout of flame that engulfed the man. A shotgun, it seemed. She pumped the action and fired again. Another went down. Some sort of awful fire shotgun.
She only stopped firing when she realised there was no one else to fight. She was encircled by the dead, men in black body armour, spent shell casings lying around her and gun smoke hanging thick in the air. Thumps from up stairs, however, told her she was not clear of foes yet, though. A voice called out hesitantly from behind her.
“Are we good?” Patricia came out of the darkness. Nicky was panting, not with exertion, but rage. Mandy also stuck her head out. The police woman turned to usher her back, when Nicky saw the green dots appear on her back.
”NO!” she screamed, throwing herself with her arms wide between the woman and the enemy. Bullets slammed into her in rapid succession, driving her backwards with the force of them. Like a thousand blows to a punching bag, none of them were hurting her, but she was still only a fifteen year old. So she swung her arm back down and squeezed off two more round from the shotgun before it clicked in her hand. The firing stopped, but she could hear them reloading.
Patricia's arm dropped onto her shoulder, firing into the corridor. Holy shit she's using me for cover! Nicky might have been more taken with how awesome that was if she hadn't still been a rage-fuelled missile. As soon as the cop stopped firing and fell back, Nicky launched herself forwards, screaming like a banshee again and with no particular goal except to hurt everything in her path. The first one she got to was just raising his rifle again, so she grabbed the front of his jacket, fumbling for anything she could use. Her hand found a knife hilt and something else. Round. Small. With a pin. Yes.
The man shoved her off and raised his rifle, but Nicky threw the grenade at him, right into the light of the other behind as they did the same as him. She saw the hesitation as all of them realised what it was, but Nicky charged in right behind it, snatching a gun and firing wildy up the stairs as she went up the man and flew past them. She was pretty sure she only hit wall before the grenade went off, throwing everything into chaos.
She wasn't certain, having only seen movies, but as she was flung backwards along the lobby, she was fairly sure that grenades were supposed to explode with fire and bits of metal. So she was surprised to see a bright flash of light and then bolts of lightning flare across the bodies of the men on the stairwell. At least five more of the assholes went down to that. She got up, righting herself by sliding along the wall she had landed against, and strode over to the bodies. Not one moved. She could see Patricia staring from the hallway when she glanced around the stairs, so she proceeded up them. No one up there either.
As she hit the top, she was confused as to why the whole hallway shifted sideways, until she landed, skidding across the ground, and something big slid into her vision from the side of her head. Another bullet. A huge one. Apparently they had a sniper somewhere.
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Punished GN
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