[CHAR] Star Heresy

[AmongHeroes]

Ω Name: Anson Hogh

Ω Age: 32

Ω Gender: Male

Ω Rank: 75th C.A.G. Team Leader, Captain

Ω Appearance:

Anson is a tall and lithe man. His physique is one of an athlete built for stamina more than raw power. His eyes are of a dark green, though the color varies easily due to the ocular enhancements in his irises. The natural color of his hair is a dark chocolate, and it’s generally kept at a medium length in varying states of disarray.

Across his body, save for his face, a matrix of silvery strands crisscrosses along the borders of musculature. This matrix was used to implant the bone reinforcement, and synthetic muscle tissue. Where bare skin is still visible, it is smooth and rather pale.

His dress is atypical for military life—the advantage of being an operator in the Special Forces. Most often Anson dresses in well broken-in tactical pants, jeans, or the occasional set of board shorts. His shirts are an array of old rock tees, souvenirs from dive bars, or a basic gray hoodie with bullets tied into the drawstrings.

Ω History/Background:

Anson was born as a prostitute’s bastard on Yesthaven, the capital city of Ganymede. Having an illegitimate child was such a rarity in the pleasure profession, thanks to the extreme ease and access to contraceptive technologies, that Anson was a true space oddity (R.I.P. David Bowie). His saving grace was the potent combination of his mother’s love, and her dauntless gift of hope.

Growing up living above the brothel, Anson’s early education was at the behest of the Madame that ran it. Being the keen businesswoman that the Madame was, she soon recognized that Anson had the potential to achieve great things if given the opportunity. Due to his class, such opportunities came few and far between. Military service was the only real option for a life outside the net of gangs and vice, and so both Anson’s mother, and the Madame, encouraged him to pursue it.

The rest, as it’s said, is history.

Serving with skill and distinction as a space marine, Anson worked his way ever upward through his career. In short order he had joined the Marine Deep Space Command, the spec-ops branch of the Space Marine Corps, and served in specialized missions across the Orion Arm. With the expansion of CAG units, and the formation of the 7-5, Anson was commissioned to be the unit’s first team leader. He has been with the unit ever since, and has expressed to have truly found his calling in the service of the Emperor.

Ω Personality: Loyal, Trustworthy, Resolute, Adaptable, Laid-back

Ω Specialties:

“Did you back it up?”—Anson has an extensive array of biological enhancements and implants for the sole purpose of keeping him above ground. He can lose massive amounts of blood, some vital organs, and other extreme trauma without losing combat effectiveness (at least in the short term).

“But can it run Crysis?”—Due to Anson’s role as team leader, he has to be able to both keep track of, and run, the 7-5 under extreme conditions in the field. He has a number of applicable software implanted into his internal hardware.

[LotusWarrior]

Router

Name: Thomas 'Router' Berkeley

Age: 30

Gender: Male

Rank: Sargent

Appearance:
For his technical nature, Thomas is well built, fit, and hansom. Sporting a shaved head and obvious neural enhancements, he holds the look of a technological wizard. His Armour carries various enhancements to improve his combat roles.

Images

History / Background:
Hailing from a Merchants class family living on Terra. He wanted to expand his technical aptitude and abilities from elite military service. In the future he and hope to return to earth and use his technical skills to improve his families station, income, and cohesiveness. All of that changed with the Red Oath attack. He has no family (all where on Terra), no past, and now his only future is that of bloody revenge, ready to take action and use his vast technical skill to aid 7-5.

Personality:
Passionate
Intelligent
Technology focused
Deep thinker
Loyal

Specialities:
Technical aptitude – Ability to quickly repair and interrogate mechanical and cyber technologies with efficiency and speed. With this skill he is able to hot repair a device or machine, as well as perform advanced mechanical operations with proper tools and time. This skill also extends to cyber technologies. Mainly hacking physical systems, writing and auditing code, as well as modifying and repairing hardware.
Ace Pilot - Has cyber enhancements that allow him to interface with essentially any vehicle (land, air, sea, and small spaceships) and drive it quickly and effectually. This technology is an enhancement on the YETI interface systems.

[Nevix]

Digit

Name: Edward “Digit” Faraday

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Rank: Second Lieutenant

Appearance:

actual appearance

Edward is 5’ 11” and 140 lbs, He’s of a fairly average build and is athletic, but not muscled by any means. He has dark brown hair and pale green eyes.

POCS

History / Background: Edward was born in the slums of Earth. His parents abandoned him, he would’ve died if not for the kindness of a random thief named Jericho. Jericho raised Edward into a normal, if lower class life while painting himself to be a Robin Hood-esque thief, giving his spoils to the poor. It didn’t take long for Edward to discover that Jericho was not a benevolent man. While following the man around one day, Edward found that Jericho was a glorified enforcer for the gangs. Jericho had no qualms over killing people for check. Edward was sickened and “borrowed” some of Jericho’s hidden cash before running away. He spent the money on a cybernetic arm and leg to boost his mediocre physical traits. With few marketable skills, Edward joined the military. He served well as veritable canon fodder, before the death of his squad leader put his strategic prowess on display. After that operation, he was promoted rapidly and assigned to the 7-5, where’s he been for a little more than a year now.

Personality: Witty, humorous, intelligent, naive, caring

Specialties: Strategist: Edward is quite adept at formulating complicated plans and strategies in a small amount of time.
Mobility Specialist: Edward is exceptionally skilled at moving around whatever environment he may be placed in. He moves about with an almost acrobatic grace.

[icmasticc]

T w e n t y - E i g h t | V a r r i n a "W r a i t h" M e r c u r y | F e m i n i n e

Appearance

Varrina is the average height for a female at 5'7 while her build is firmly on the more toned and slender side of things. Her arms and legs, while defined, are thin and lanky, but her hips curve and stand out to give her a decent shape in clothing. Piercings and tattoos, products of a time long since passed, adorn her body in various places though the tattoos all reside on patches of skin that can be hidden under uniform and even in short sleeve shirts. Short hair with highlights of violet round out the claim of individuality and Varrina seldom wears real jewelry.

Rank

Master Sergeant

History / Background

Varrina Mercury and her family eked out a meager life on a small moon colony in the Orion Arm. Having been born into poverty, Varrina had only ever been subjected to the struggle her parents went through in order to provide for her and her young sister. Despite the visage she was shown however, the elder daughter had come across the truth at some point in her childhood. Her mother prostituted herself in secret as a means to make extra money in addition to the manual labor job she had and her father had a gambling problem that only added to the family's financial woes. Varrina herself joined a gang at a relatively young age and went on to become their leader when she grew into her teens.

During this criminal period in her life, Varrina found she had an uncanny knack for ranged weapons. Her aim was incredibly accurate and as she grew older and into adulthood, important people began to take notice of the woman's fine motor skills. Eager to rid herself of a past she considers shameful, the thrill-seeking young woman joined the military and eventually progressed her way to unit 7-5.

Personality

Intelligent

Calculating

Honest

Confident

Determined

Specialties

Master Marksmen

Though Varrina is proficient enough in hand-to-hand combat, her innate ability with ranged weaponry surpasses what many consider to be top-tier levels. She has mastered multiple gun-based and projectile weapons and has superior aim with just about anything one can fire. Put a ranged weapon into her hands and you can count on "Wraith" to hit her mark.

Long-Range Specialist

Varrina's true passion lies in fighting at long range. She gained her nickname due to the fact that by the time an enemy noticed her, a bullet was already whizzing their way to end their life. She serves as the sniper of the team and prefers taking enemies out in the most efficient manner possible--meaning in as few shots as humanly possible. For her, this is the most efficient form of combat in the grand scheme of things.

[Lutalica]

Vulma Vhyrd

Name: Vulma Vhyrd

Age: 39

Gender: Female

Rank: Command Sergeant Major

Appearance:

History / Background: Born to a hive world of Scorpius' Ptolemy cluster Vulma drew the peasant's lot in life, her adolescence spent without so much as glimpsing the sky through the forest of slumscrapers she called home. In her own words:

"It was never ugly, if that might surprise you. Can only ever seem so outside of it; like so much else looking down is a luxury. Could I tell you I've done things I'm not proud of? Yes. And certainly there are things I'm proud of that were worse. I'm grateful I can say that, that I know better. That I am better. Growing up? That was my first war; not everyone made it."

Drugs, crime and violence saturated the bleak cityscape, the unofficial currency of Orion's underbelly, a second empire ruled by gang regime. Without a trade or prospects Vulma's choices were few; become fodder for the factories, submit herself to the streets or enlist. In her own words:

"Most people guess I had a good reason for choosing the latter, but you don't strike me as most people. Let's just say I was young--and we'll take a moment to remember what that was like--and move on."

Her career was not a storied one. No heroic triumphs or strokes of luck propelled her forward. Vulma was just another grunt for the meat grinder, shuffled from fray to fray at the behest of greater powers. At the end of this ordeal she stood maimed, modded and paradoxically more whole. Opting to slog through the middle echelons of OSOC's more dangerous task forces as the opportunity presented itself. Eventually the sum total of her hard won expertise saw her assigned to what would later be known as the NGC 6475 Martyrs, where a then First Sergeant Vulma Vhyrd gave her life for her empire.

Fortunately, the extensive cybernetic enhancements the deployment entailed (Having been a real risk trial of said augmentations) saw the bulk of the unit in salvageable condition, herself included. Bestowed a prosthetic body and promotion upon regaining conscousness the newly minted Sergeant Major has her own score to settle with Red Oath, those responsible for her current state.

Personality:

Patriotic

Sensual

Valorous

Gambler

Mechanophile

Specialties:

Brings a Sword to a Gunfight: A requisite of her special forces training Vulma is extremely well versed in the use of oscillating blades. Moreso her unenviable upbringing provides her certain insight into 'fighting to win' they don't teach you at the academy.

Criminal Element: Lowlives don't get much lower than peasants. Yulma knows her way around the sort of slums, dives and dens of ill repute most people take pains to avoid. A trait which continues to present itself as an unlikely boon.

Misc

◤ Vulma is not a 'brain in a jar' style cyborg, even though there wouldn't be enough of her to fill a trash bag without those prosthetics.
Like the only good scene from this movie. As such she requires a quarter ration of food and water when deployed, consolidated in a tube of grayish toothpaste like material. Ingesting anything else is problematic.

◤ Her high performance body does not exceed the capabilities of the other 7-5, as all its members are in some way enhanced. Like her peers it has its strengths and weaknesses. She does however fatigue at a much reduced rate comparatively. Likewise, apart from perhaps a skinned knee here and there, it's no more resistant to harm.

◤ In deployment she's a bit of a workhorse, her long slog through the ranks molding her into the sort of soldier that's comfortable following another's lead. Though a wizard with an O-blade she only draws when its tactically sound--which is rarely. You'll never see her abandon cover or rush a position when a bullet could do the job better.

◤ It's not the sort of thing she'd boast about or bring up, but when people tell her they were raised in a slum it's like telling a child soldier you were in the reserves. They're not the same, it's not common ground and no, you don't know what it was like for her.

◤ She's an iron patriot. In her own words "I owe the army my life twice over now, by my count debt's only half paid."

◤ She will and does bet on just about anything and though she keeps tabs on what each member of the 7-5 owes her she makes it a point not to collect. "Never let money come between family I say."

◤ Considers herself the 7-5's unofficial morale officer.

[Garden Gnome]

Nightmare

Emily 'Nightmare' Blackwell | Twenty-Six | Second Lieutenant

Armour

Emily's most obvious features are her shoulder-length locks of honey-blonde hair and her brooding forest-green eyes. Her face is slightly-oval in shape, her nose pert, and her lips a healthy shade of pink. She stands at a height of 5'7" and her posture befitting that of a trained and skilled fighter. Her build is athletic and lean, with a fair share of muscles befitting that of a soldier. She is highly lithe and agile, and her figure clearly represents one who is familiar with climbing and other acrobatic maneuvers. Emily's pale ivory complexion boasts a hint of golden undertones, and is unblemished except for a pair of scars on her left arm and right leg that she acquired long ago during her escape from enemy territory. The dress that she can be found in are not unusual for one in the military line of work. Tank tops and t-shirts are the usual, with either form-fitting legging or the baggier cargo pants for company. The colours she favours tend to err on the darker or earthier side, such as greens, browns and blacks.

Armour: As shown as in the image above, just without the extra appendages. The armour also comes equipped with a Heads-Up-Display (HUD), and with an active camouflage system, enabling easy and seamless blending into the environment and the surroundings area, which is highly critical for stealth and reconnaissance.

History / Background:

Born into a noble family in the planet Mars, it just one of the many planets colonised by the Orion Empire. The Blackwells aren't the usual sort one would usually associate with those of their social status. For starters, they weren't the typical arrogant and aloof jerks who looked down on the lower classes. Being of lower nobility, Emily considered their status of a good medium, not too high and yet not too low. The Patriarch of the Blackwell family was a just an magnanimous lord, and was rather charitable with his money. None of those that worked under him was ill-treated nor did they ever go hungry. With that, Terence Blackwell acquired the loyalty of all his subordinates, workers and servants. Lord Blackwell was equally generous with the interests of his two children, supporting them in whatever they desired.

Having such a fond interest of firearms from a young age, Emily signed herself up for the Orion Empire's military when she was eventually old enough to. The time of relative peace saw little to no engagements, and just simply plenty of training and exercises. However, the attack of the terrorist group known as the Red Oath changed everything. Her unit was thrown into active combat, like so many others, and it was there on the battlefield that she was able to put all those periods of training into good use. Being in a solitary position that set her apart from the rest of her team actually saved her life during that fateful day where an enemy ambush resulted in her entire squad was annihilated by overwhelming enemy forces. Through a mixture of skill and determination along with a sprinkle of luck, she managed to survive, acquiring a score of kills along the way before she finally got extracted back into friendly territories. It was there that she was debriefed and eventually provided crucial intel that helped achieved victory in the following missions to come.

Personality: Dauntless, Adaptable , Emotional , Persistent , Patient

Specialties:

Marksmanship - Emily's natural aptitude for precision aiming landed her the mostly solitary role of a sniper in the military. Her talent for marksmanship was discovered early on in her military career and she has since proven her worth and weight in confirmed recorded kills.

Reconnaissance - Another one of Emily's strongest skills was for a talent for reconnaissance. Highly adapt in stealth, infiltration and observation techniques, she plays a vital role in any team's mission, providing command with information about the enemy's size, strength and location.

[Fat Boy Kyle]

Oliver Thane

Twenty-Six | Oliver Thane | 2nd Lieutenant

Appearance:

For a start Thane appears younger than he does in the above photo, but still looks a couple of years older than his actual age. He stands at ever-so-slightly over six foot, and has an average frame. Like most in the military, especially the 7-5, Thane has a very good physique with well-toned muscles born through years of training (even prior to service). He has mousy brown hair which he tends to keep short on the sides and slightly longer on top; he leaves enough to style as the picture shows. He also tends to sport a short trimmed beard which can vary in length depending on how busy he finds himself. In regards to clothing, he is rarely seen outside of his military clothing; he either wears his combat gear or his officer dress suit.

Combat Gear

Thane wears a Tactical Stealth Unit (TSU), specifically the agile C13 model. It is a very high grade model reserved for special forces, and therefore he has only had it since joining the 7-5. The suit and it’s functions are linked to existing military implants that Thane has, allowing him to use them in an instant. These functions include: a heads up display (HUD); a retractable wrist blade (think Deus Ex rather than AC); and active camouflage. Whilst certainly useful, the suit does have a couple of drawbacks – notably it’s reduced durability (compared to other armours of the same grade).

History / Background:

Born Richard ‘Dicky’ Wu, he was the eldest of two sons born to Robiul and Samantha Wu, citizens of the Nym Republic. He was brought up in the city of New Shanghai, the capital of one of the more advanced Republic Planets – X4A (or Exfora as many like to call it). Growing up Dicky had a moderately good life with little troubles. From an early age he was ingrained with many liberal ideals that formed the core principles of the Republic and these ideals were only strengthened when he eventually went on to university as a young adult. Like many of his academic peers, Dicky was deeply concerned at the way in which the society of Orion Empire operated.

It was only when relationships became strained between the Empire and Republic following a series of small (but no less severe) terrorist attacks that Dicky decided to join the intelligence service. Having achieved the highest possible grade (a First with Distinction in his case) whilst studying Interplanetary Relations and Global Conflicts, he had no trouble joining and was quickly picked to join a fast-track scheme. After only a couple of years of domestic service and intense training, Dicky was chosen to become a double agent and infiltrate the Empire. Given that this was still during peace-time, the operation was only for the sake of intelligence gathering (as opposed to sabotage, etc.) but was still very dangerous. He was allocated the new identity ‘Oliver Thane’ and sent to Earth via a number of smuggler ships.

For the last couple of years Oliver Thane (as he is now called) has been slowly working his way up through the Orion military, having joined the Orion Intelligence Corps (OIC) as an officer. Much to his own personal turmoil, his time spent in the Orion Military has made him doubt his own beliefs and he has made some genuine friends. Because of his exemplary record thus far, Thane was recently transferred to the 7-5 because of a need for better on-ground intelligence handling. Even though since joining the 7-5 he has retained his officer rank, he does not at current maintain any notable leadership responsibilities and is simply attached as a specialist.

Despite his true allegiance, he genuinely wishes to find those responsible for the destruction of Earth, believing what they did to be utterly reprehensible and against the core values of the Republic. At the current moment in time it has been approximately two weeks (just prior to his transfer) since he has had any contact with Republic Intelligence and it seems unlikely that he’ll get another chance for some time.

Personality:

• Ethical (albeit complicated)
• Reserved
• Sneaky
• Curious
• Methodical

Specialties:

Infiltrator – Trained as an agent of subterfuge, Thane has a number of skills devoted to remaining hidden and eliminating threats. This is best reflected in his use of stealth armour, when he sneaks passed enemy lines to attack critical points or retrieve valuable information.

Intelligence Specialist – Thane is an accomplished academic, a trained secret agent and a serving intelligence officer. It goes without saying that he is somewhat skilled when it comes to retrieving and analysing data, and passing it on as usable intelligence. This is a skill easily complimented by others (particularly hackers or recon).

[Dondude]

Bridge

Name: Bruce 'Bridge' Newett
Age: 35
Gender: Male

Appearance:



Bruce, code name 'Bridge', stands at a modest 5'10", but is packed densely with muscle from years of physical training, as is standard among the Orion Militia; let alone the 7-5. His presence can be intimidating for most, due to a usually stern, annoyed expression... and his entirely bionic arms.

Bridge is not particularly attached to any choice of combat gear or YETI, and prefers to wear casual, comfortable clothing in non-combat situations, blending in with the locals. As the majority of his use in combat comes from his bionic arms, he takes whatever is provided for him, assuming any coverings for his arms are removed to ensure full maneuverability.

History / Background:

Bruce grew up on a remote, near-barren farm on a desolate, nameless, grey desert planet, faintly known by the Orion and near equally uncared for by the ruling Nym Republic. In a rural corner of the planet, overrun with greed and inequality by local gangs and criminal organizations, he spent his childhood building a hearty constitution with his father, toiling day and night to ensure they would grow enough crops for the season to survive. That is, ensuring they had enough crops hidden away after what they were "taxed".

In his later life, gaining the fortunes of a wonderful wife, a beautiful daughter, and caring for his elderly father, he joined a local militia in hopes of fending off the growing, organizing threats of an all-encompassing crime syndicate. This militia was simply swallowed up in time, as they all were, by the growing power of this syndicate. Bruce was left no choice but to join... or have his family suffer the consequences.

Despite his obedience, Bruce was rewarded with his family's century old ranch and two acres of crops burned to oblivion... with his family trapped inside. It seemed that the drugged up perpetrators, bottom dweller cronies, got the wrong disobedient farmer's ranch. Two hours after the fact, Bruce had regained consciousness after what he assumed to be a fit of rage, considering he quickly found one of the cronies with a face resembling ground beef.

With nothing left of his old life, having lost any faith he once had to be at peace, he fled the planet with what little funds he could gather. With nowhere else to go, he took refuge with the Orion Empire. He was a poor marksmen from the get-go, but clearly shined when it came to CQC. He was chosen as one of the few qualified and stupid enough to take part in one of Orion's more extreme, experimental modification programs, willingly forgoing his arms for some new "upgrades." It was a bet that paid off, providing him lightning fast, concrete-shattering, sonic wave punches, with "sonic shields" that project from his elbows.

Very slowly, more due to passion than any natural talent, Bridge has slowly risen the ranks until he was selected to join the 7-5 from the onslaught. He was at least smart enough to know why; the team would need some disposable bodies willing to charge the front lines. To both his own surprise and the Empires, Bridge has lasted all this time. While usually reserved at best and downright unfriendly to most, Bridge has taken a serious liking to his team, fostering a near familial relationship. He fights to protect them like a father, as they're the only people left in his life to live for.

Personality:

Impatient
Aggressive
Protective
Sarcastic
Unrelenting

Specialties:

1. Close Quarters Combat: Bridge's primary responsibility is in his namesake; bridging the gap between his team and their target. Bridge revels in getting close and personal, and his hyper-technological limbs help him stride into battle with bullets whizzing past (or ricocheting off his shields).

2. Defensive Line: Bridge keeps a close eye on his allies. If combat starts to get hairy for anyone in particular, Bridge is the first to come to their aid with sonic shields at the ready... if he isn't too busy smashing a head, or a foot-thick wall.

[TK421]

Name: Takeshi "TK" Kobayashi - Codename: Ghost

Age: 32

Gender: Male

Rank: First Sergeant

Appearance:

Slender, yet athletic, TK stands tall for one of Asian decent at six foot one. Hair cut short around the side, with a touch of deep blue to accent his spiked hair. When not in uniform he typically wears a leather jacket (sleeves pushed up to show how toned he is), a cut shirt, and jeans.


TK is one of the few that still fights hand-to-hand, believing that fighting from a distance is cowardly. He wears a black stealth suit with silver, reminiscent of his ancestry, honoring his skill with Ninjitsu.

When fighting in power armor, or larger, TK prefers something more honorable ...


History / Background:
He never knew what it was like to live on Earth. He'd heard numerous tales of how green and blue things were, but found it hard to imagine a place with such vivid colors when all he could see was red. Having been born and raised on the Red Planet, Mars, Takeshi, along with a younger brother (Ko) and an older sister (Suchi), eventually grew to resent their parents' choice to leave Earth (grandparents in tow)-- that was until it was reduced to a ball of toxic dust. Though now thankful to have relocated, Mars was not a place to raise children. Suchi, who was born on Earth, used to daydream of the days when she was a child, having played in cool rivers, and skinning her hands and knees while climbing trees. But here on Mars, there was none of that. Sure one could go visit the simulation chambers, which offered all the luxuries of the Earth that was, but it just wasn't the same as the real thing. Plus it was expensive -- the Kobayashi's had spent nearly all they had to get to Mars.

In order to support himself, as well as his aging parents -- and to get away from the dusty confines of the Martian planet -- TK was "recruited" into the army, as soon as he was eligible to do so. TK took with him the skills and knowledge of that his grandfather had bestowed upon him: the ability to wield a blade, and the honor of Bushido. However, the discipline that was taught was not enough to keep TK out of trouble. He grew cocky and selfish, which eventually led to him joining a Yakuza-like youth gang. Stealth and finesse allowed TK to rise through their ranks quickly. But like many troubled teens TK soon found himself infamous among the local law enforcement, and eventually behind bars.

Knowing of TK's skills, the lead officer, Cpt. Roe Heinrickson, made an offer to TK, one, as it was famously put in a movie, "he couldn't refuse." On his 18th birthday TK was enlisted into the Imperial Army. The brass quickly realized that TK was destined for more, and put him into the selective group known galaxy wide as the 7-5. Though not know as being a team player, TK's rank continued to rise -- not for lack on his part (with rank comes privileges).

Personality:
Aggressive
Cultured
Determined
Loyal
Narcissistic

Specialties:
Stealth: "Be as silent as a shadow," his grandfather would say. "See, but don't be seen." TK has enhancements, that enhance his ability to hide and sneak. He became known as Ghost, once he was in the military, as he is light on his feet, agile, and lithe.

Two-Weapon (Melee): TK learned to fight with two blades, not just one. The katana and wakisashi are extensions of his own hands, slashing, dicing and severing anything that gets in his path. Unmatched, so far, in skill, TK boasts the ability to block a gun shot (though he's never had to prove it).

[Astronaut Jones]

Name: Luke "Iceman" Galbri

Age: 32

Gender: Male

Rank: Sergeant

Appearance:

Physical Appearance

Height: 6'4"

Weight: 240 lbs

Enhancements: Complete right forearm cybernetic replacement. Complete right femur/tibia/fibula cybernetic replacement. Biotech engineered shoulders/knees/pelvic/ankle articular cartilage. Bilateral ocular implants.

Misc: Luke's entire back is covered with a tattooed mural of the four horsemen.

POC Armor

Misc: A weathered bomb squad patch from his old EOD squad is stitched on his right shoulder guard.

History / Background: Luke Galbri was a "Royal Flush" baby; a product of an ill-advised conception between a noblewoman and a commoner, who was secretly flushed down the proverbial toilet (a.k.a the outer rim.) Newborn Luke was stashed on board of a commercial space freighter. His biological parents made an arrangement with a 'flesh vendor' who ran his base of operations out of a backwater colony called New Mesa.

The noblewoman's family name remained absolved from the taint of low blood breeding, and the commoner received a pretty penny to keep it all a secret. Everyone was happy. Well, mostly everyone. Life under the flesh vendor's leash was a short-lived hell. The local system authorities eventually cracked down on the vendor's illegal operations and apprehended him soon after. Luke was then put into foster care on an entirely different star sector until he was brave enough to go rogue. He went from a Royal Flush baby, to a Drift Rock kid, which meant he was a stowaway orphan bouncing around spaceships and way-stations.

Luke was eventually taken in by a freighter Captain named, Manuel Galbri. He found the young man hiding in the cargo hold. Manuel became the closest thing to a father figure he'd ever have. The former Orion Space Fleetsman signed Luke on as a crew mate, teaching him everything he knew about life in the void. Manuel died during a pirate raid several years later, forcing Luke to flee from Galbri's Freighter and survive on his own.

With nowhere else to go, he enlisted into the Orion Military at the age of 17 as a combat engineer. After a couple of years in the space army infantry, he was reassigned into a special bomb disposal unit called the 127 EOD Clockwork Squad. They were an anti-terrorist unit tasked with neutralizing bomb threats on border planets caught in a tug-of-war between the Nym Republic, and Radical Separatist groups. Operation Firebug was the 127 EOD Squadron's last mission objective. Luke was 1 of the four survivors of his unit, and the only one qualified as a potential 7-5 candidate. Despite the unfortunate end of Clockwork Squadron, he's transitioned into the CAG rather comfortably.

Personality: Ice-veined. Gung-ho. Lively. Goofball. Contrarian.

Specialties:

Explosives Ordinance Disposal: Luke's EOD training includes neutralizing all types of improvised explosives, chemical threats, and nuclear weapons.

Combat Engineer: The construction and demolition for land and space combat situations is another one of Luke's specialties. This includes facilitating movement for troops and civilians, while immobilizing hostile forces. Building bridges for friendlies by digging ditches for enemies. The latter is usually his favorite part.

[Rockette]

_{A stigmata that does not stain the f l e s h; but rather permeates the [ s o u l ].
That, is the s i n f u l crown that I shall adorn.}
^{T H E M E.}

---

P ' s i y a h K u l n d e r

twenty-seven — female — master sergeant

appearance————————————————

Perpetrating an apathetic exhibit of financial embellishing, she is the aesthetic product of economic embezzlement, disloyal conduct, and the most garish of sins — vanity. She is the glimmering exemplary of Upper Nobility privileges and precision in obligated perfection; an advocate for the myriads of advanced, biological technology that has dipped into the coffers and will of playing as a God. Beauty of unnatural increments have dove head long into polished pores, refinement and executing every known flaw to the mortal countenance. She's impressed upon with exceptional vitality in the wealth of waterlogged emerald oculi, deep seeded hues of moss that sharpen to the aforementioned gem and brighten to pools of peridot in the immersion of her integrated software that spans the sensitivity of her enhanced nervous system. The absolution and intent of her genetic alterations are also accumulated in thick, tumbling tresses of ebony, framing purpose and delicacy, and suspended to the small of her back where soft edges curl into her tempered spine. The result of splicing and implanted genomes of refinement do not heed just at the initial impression of her body, but span and intertwine deep into the bedlam of her organs and vital systems as well. Matrices of crucial reactivity crisscross beneath the flawless membrane of herself, laden deep into every nerve ending that glimmers both azure and silver. In relation to this implanted hardware of sensitivity; sparses of flesh is laden and logged with sunken in discs of interchanging frequencies, and electrical impulses that modulate numerous pitches of signals that carry from each other, each neighbor gleaning a violet, pulsating hue and transitioning to dull indigo's when in rest.

The aforementioned discs are minuscule in appearances, pinpointing various components and key structures on her body: joints and vessels cued by their shimmering existence. A plethora of lethal intentions are lain within the pale skin of this higher echelon of nobility: default requirements of military integration and basic functions of agility, strength, and defense spans the depths of her innards. However, being built for infiltration, rather than brutal confrontation, her specialties have provided curious enhancements that are provided in the bends of her wrists. These are exports and channels of wires and that provided a more physical, and personal, invasive method to her hacking prowess into hard drives and even cybernetics infusions.

background————————————————

Obligated sincerity, elegance, and refined stature in the method of articulation and power; this is what sired the individual of P'siyah. Ascension here was decided by birth, the pinnacle of your destiny immediately decided on the whims of conception, it was delicate and transparent like the glass everyone waltzed over. Constant murmurs of war, rebellion, secrets lain well and thick in the depressing whispers of court in the wealth of the Emperor's maintenance. The name Kulnder was an infamous utterance, usually done so in quiet interludes when not in presence of the particular family that were literal copies of one another, bearing individuality only in their eyes of colour, stances, and general foundation of genetic inheritance. Trademarked by their dark hair, pale complexions, and unreasonable perfection, they were suspended on the highest tiers of wealth, their riches seeded and cultivated from vast imports of tech-trade and bore the insignia that advertised the Kulnder models of cybernetics and implants that swelled to luxury and betterment. The Kulnder sired an empire on the desires of perfection, willingness to change, and generous donations to funding the biological research campaigns of the Orion Empire.

Drowned beneath the splendor of the Upper Nobility, P'siyah was the second among four children, an even divide of their gender influences and thus able to expand the delicate webbing and threads of their family through regular intervening of courts, societal gatherings, and fastening their own clutches onto the jeweled rungs of the gentry. Suspended into the requirements, it was almost cliche to develop the tangible qualities of desire outside the typical endeavors of those high-bourne. Thus, with a fondness and genius grasp of secrecy and development, P'siyah became well knowledgeable of secrets and whispered opinions meant for conceptual silence about the finer circumstances outside the nobility. Her currency became these muttered musings, spoken aloud to her once she was able to coax lips apart, freeing most from their reservations with the assistance of her exceptional appearance.

This natural affinity eventually ascended to the installation of software in the discs now spanning her body in a diaphragm of sensory modules. The whole of her body being supplied as a subject of interference and with her increasing knowledge provided by the sunken implants housed at the pinnacle of her spine, her desires of secrets swelled into the forbidden. It was this rising appearances of her electronic traces and remains through the firewalls of various corporations and personal data of rival nobles that garnered P'siyah attention, her swift methods of infiltration efficient, but needing temperance of regulation. Her moniker was bequeathed by those inquiring to her hacker nature, a soft spoken appellation into the courts from the numerical of six that kept repeating in her codex: Seraphim. This, is when murmurs of the Nym Separatists landed upon her ears from perched mouths bearing wide in their smiles, their own attempts at hacking interference and binaries that kept transmuting into Orion databases.

Intrigued, P'siyah forwent the intentions of her family and the nobility, becoming a well induced philosopher of "live by doing, instead of watching." In this, she applied herself into the military through the medium of Imperial Knights associated with the Kulnder corporate. Harnessing and refining her capabilities, and using the glamour of her genetically provided beauty, it was no wonder that P'siyah ascended and thus landed well within the infantry, earning her a place among the elite and the unit of 7—5.

personality————————————————

Manipulative — Sensuous — Clandestine — Curious — Elegant

specialties————————————————

The Seraphim —

Adapting to the epitaph granted by the nobility she infiltrated, the Seraphim is a six—gated holographic sphere that eclipses P'siyah entirely and performs as a gargantuan system capable of bypassing most security barriers and anything deemed reachable through their own technology. With the provided implants in her body, and the slick, latex sensory suit that clings to her body in every cleft and curve, she utilizes her entire self as an intercession tool. Interacting with The Seraphim has introduced her own network, a series and plethora of complexity in the binary matrix of the sphere, and enhances her near prodigy hacking and cracking into every system she roams across with The Seraphim's display. Whilst known infamously for these aforementioned affinities, The Seraphim is also versed into the methods of amplifying security. When not connected to her holographic sphere, P'siyah is capable of accessing her network through the ports located at her delicate wrists and through the interaction of the violet discs into her skin, expanding her exploitation reach from beyond the module, but no where near the expansive uses that the Seraphim sphere houses.

Big Guns —

Through her years sworn into military servitude, P'siyah developed a particular fondness for gargantuan weaponry, including the YETI Frames and anything oozing mechanical prowess through their sheer magnitudes. She employs this through the manic means of an aficionado by having such a weapon customized to her own specifics and designs, and with the assistance of those who designed YETI's, they were able to conceive the rock cannon that is closely housed at her spine by the suspension units of her armour. The rock cannon, composed of an ebony alloy, is capable of performing two feats of lethal endeavors: the shells of the cannon are totaled to six, and are accelerated at hypersonic speeds and capable of being rapid fired from the elongated barrel that yawns into various offshoots of metal nodes to reduce warping and friction by the rate of fire. The secondary component of attack is the heavy chamber that not only conceals the six shells of the cannon, but can also be charged through a prolonged exposure by the weight of her finger against a series of switches that depress on her command. Two more chambers exist on either side of the cannon that swivel and puncture down into the weapon when charging, thus, the amount of chambers utilized vary on the damage outputs of the beam that launches from the barrel. Though significant in damage, the cannon has a severe drawback in reload measurements, and given the mass of artillery, aiming for smaller targets proves as a hardship.

[Noxious]

Hesper "Hex" Gaulis

AGE჻ twenty-four ✖✖✖ GENDER჻ female ✖✖✖ RANK჻ 2nd Lieut

APPEARANCE჻

She maintained an athletic build that stood at an average height; wholly unexceptional save for the pale freckled skin and dark coloring that confessed her home sector. Upon those freckled cheeks perched gluttonous rosé lips that seemed forever pleased; occasionally exaggerating the sweet smile and blossoming dimples proceeding wicked actions. Hair the hue of wispy obsidian was kept short and fell messily around unnatural eyes, once the mirrored stain of locks color, now glittered with the shaved silver of tech. The tattoos of military and her home world laced and blended with tech on the entirety of her body. Her right arm from the elbow down was the only glaring technology that seemed almost devoid of bio-filler but held onto its human shape despite the exaggerated fingers.

✖ ✖ ✖

BACKGROUND჻

Brax’vairn was a rare stopping point on trade routes, an aphotic dwarf planet refurbished into a one-stop-shop salvage yard. Many would have assumed that Brax would have gone rebel, but the populus suffers from an affliction of tight knit tradition. There were seven main ‘metropolitan’ areas on the floating rock; heavily connected by a fossil tram system. This was no feat considering the surface of the planet was a meager 1.56 × 107 km2 [a bit smaller than Pluto] and was mostly covered in scrap.

_{“Mech, tech, interstellar, ATV, hell even certified bio-log-i-cal;}
^{You want it? We’ve got it! Here in Brax’vairn Main.”}

People didn’t move to Brax and people didn’t move away. This allowed for an almost cult like existence and belief systems; old world religion blended with tech and superstition. Morality, while implemented and touted, was a decaying and tainted bastard of previous generations. As if that was not enough to convey an eldritch existence, the lack of sunlight only proved to compound the situation, infecting generations with a bothersome sensitivity to UV and affinity for darkness. This is not to say the people of Brax were exclusively somber; in fact the people had a multitude of religious celebrations that consumed the planet with debaucherous reverie.

_{Home is not where the heart is.}
^{Home is what the heart is.}

Medicine was not some calling that had followed Hesper from childhood. In fact, she stumbled in and fell into the Space Marines before she could blink. Her pro transhumanism upbringing and experimental fancies were raised in a (somewhat shady) bio-tech chop shop that had catered to her understanding the in’s and out’s of bio tech. Space Marine’s had simply been a way out, but they quickly became so much more. She absorbed the exhilaration of new tech alongside violence and excelled in service. They moved her into Special-Ops and her freedom and skills increased. When the 7-5 started looking for a medic, she was an obvious choice and took the job with a fluttering heart. She was honored to be one of the feared--childhood goal fulfilled.

^{Dead is dead; Parts is parts.}

Dead guys is parts.
Dead guys is parts.

^-Ripperjack

✖ ✖ ✖

PERSONALITY჻

● sadistic
● relentless
● empathetic
● idealistic
● meticulous

✖ ✖ ✖

SPECIALTIES჻

● we're going to need a medic

Knowledge and access to combat drugs and field dressings. Surgical knowledge pertaining to bio-true (human), bio-tech (techno-human cross) with built in signal/function sensors and manipulators. For example, if a heart stops, cybernetics built into Hex have the ability to hyper focus on the electrical impulses of that organ and shock the heart to promote reboot. If her skills fail to meet the needs the Empire ensures all of its medics have a nice stash of nanosurgeons.

● we're going to need an answer

Medical background gives a unique perspective into triggers, pain and its receptors. She has invasive knowledge on tissue, bio-mechanics, nerve bundles, organs and bone structure. For example, the same mechanism to restart a heart can be used to cycle a cease and reboot of the heart for hours. Her mind is unrelenting in its inquiry for human pain; for the Empire of course, and science.

[FantasyChic]

Trinity "th0rn_r0se" St. Callister | Twenty-Four | First Lieutenant

History / Background:

"Boss, you need to see this."

Joey Vega, underworld crimelord and all around sleazebag gave a long sigh as he sat at his desk, his feet perched on top of his desk, "What is it Callen?"

"It's our data."

Joey looked at Callen with a "you piece of dumbs***" look, "Yes, what about it?"

Callen looked up at Joey, fear in his eyes. Fear that the next words out of his mouth could very well be his last.

"It's gone!"

Joey sprang up and charged over to Callen, who braced himself for a punch. All he got was Joey's tan mug in his face, "What do you mean...'gone'?"

Callen took his arms away and opened up his desk computer in front of Joey, "Look, all the files are gone. The encryption has been broken. I don't know how.."

Before Callen could continue, Joey slammed his metal fist on the desk, leaving a nice crack in the finished wood. Callen "eeped" a bit and fiddled with the computer, "I swear boss, I don't know how!"

If looks could kill, Joey would be killing Callen 20 times over. "Find out who! I want their name, their address, hell, their grandma's address too. I wanna kill everyone that said one word to the bastard."

Callen fiddled around a bit as Joey paced. "Who would attack him?" he thought to himself, "they would have to be really stupid to mess with someone like him. Someone who has made countless people dissapear. Someone who skirted around the law, had authorities in his pocket, and got away with only slaps on the wrist."

Callen continued to look around until his voice squeaked, "Umm..."

Joey glided over, "Did you find them?"

Callen nodded, "I believe so...but.."

Joey glanced at the screen opened in front of him. On the screen was a little Panda Bear who was on the screen. The panda waved and smiled. Joey just stared at it.

Callen was silent for a while, before he spoke up "It was in one of the files. I opened it up because it said..and I quote 'Hi Mom'"

The panda on the screen began to move, it danced around and shook his little tail. Joey could only keep staring. "What the.."

Soon the screen turned dark. After a few seconds, a prompt came up, and started typing in pink letters.

"Hello boys! You don't know me, but I know you, you naughty, naughty boys!"

Joey slapped Callen's shoulders, "They're speaking to us now! Quick! Trace them!"

Callen started to work as the letters kept coming.

"At this point, you already know that I helped myself to your files. Thanks so much <3. Quite an interesting read. You've been busy it seems.

Callen continued to work the trace as Joey sneered, "Who is this b***h? It has to be a girl. She must be brain dead. You almost done?"

Callen nodded happily, "Yeah, it was really easy to trace them. Like, almost child's play."

Joey nodded, but stopped. A thought occurred. How could they break a high level encryption, but be stupid enough to allow a trace? His gut sank. "Quick, stop!"

But it was too late, as more text came up.

"By this point, you probably ran a trace to find me. That was rather silly huh? :P Well, now you have the police locked on your location. They also have the files with them, detailing all the nasty deeds you did. I also took the liberty to see that it was some men and women who you don't have on your payroll to visit you. Won't that be fun!?! :D

Joey looked terrified. Who the hell was this chick?

Before he could even think, a video popped up and a pink haired girl came on screen. She blew a kiss and then...nothing.

The screen shook and sizzled, before turning off.

Callen looked dumbfounded.

Joey looked pissed.

The forces were there in minutes and Joey's game was taken off.

_________________________________

Trinity sighed and took a sip of her coffee. Another job well done.

Personality:

• Smart
• Carefree
• Bubbly
• Silly
• Optimistic

Specialties:
Computer Whisperer - Trinity is able to get computers to talk...no...SING to her at her command. With an impressive amount of hacking under her belt, she is able to slip into a computer, a tablet, a cell phone, anything with a code, and do her deeds. She doesn't like to do it silently either, as many people know her hacker name "th0rn_r0se"

Why Have One Gun? - Trinity likes guns. She likes pink. She likes shooting. Why not double all three of those qualities? Using her Handguns in combat, she shoots first, asks questions...probably after she is done filling them with bullets.