Daglobster Member
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- Daglobster 10 yrs ago
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Pls halp. I categorized Shor'Gen's page right (as far as I know. His tags are Character, All, and Canon-0), but he still doesn't show up in the Character category. What am I doing wrong?!
What I meant by that is that he can perform operations with his tools that don't require the specialized equipment of an operating room. I know there's an operating room on the Exeralune (i thought it was standard), but what I was trying to get across is that unless you'd need something that would only be found in an operation room (like a surgical robot, or something that would help install prosthetics). Field surgery, basically.
(If I'm not supposed to put this here, just let me know and I'll move this post somewhere else)
Name: Unpronounceable by anything other than another member of his race. Insists that the crew members call him "Shor'Gen"
Age: 150 years old by his race, 74 human years old
Gender: Male
Race: Other races call his people Yug'Lonians
Homeworld: Other races call his planet Yug'Lon
Position: Lead Physician
Personality:
Like all other members of his race, Shor'Gen is inquisitive and highly intelligent by nature. His people are a race of scientists, doctors, surgeons, engineers, and inventors, constantly developing new and utterly alien technologies.
Shor'Gen himself is a bit of an outcast from all of this. His race, usually insular and secretive, are almost exclusively found on their home planet, a single, near pitch-black, nigh-atmosphereless planet orbiting a dying star. He actively seeks to "fit in" with other races, often going so far as to cluelessly adopt the mannerisms of others for periods of time that can range from a few minutes to a couple hours before suddenly discarding them. The Yug'Lonians constantly adapt to the knowledge they receive, so Shor'Gen's personality is always in a slight state of flux. He's always more or less the same, but he's always got a new quirk that he picked up from somebody.
Shor'Gen takes his work extremely seriously, and carries with him a constant eagerness to perform his duties as a doctor. The first thing he always asks of anyone entering his quarters (which he keeps dim and cold) is if they're coming in for a check-up. Despite these traits, Shor'Gen can hold conversations pretty well, despite the fact that his voice sounds smooth and calm, completely uncharacteristic of the giant insect he appears to be.
Appearance:
The two large arms in the front are for self-defense and manipulating large objects, while the two sets below that are for the fine manipulation of tools, performing complex actions, and performing surgeries. The bottom three legs are set on specialized swiveling joints, which are detailed in Shor'Gen's abilities.
Abilities:
-Claws: Shor'Gen's primary manipulators (and the secondary ones) are much deadlier than they appear. The larger pair of pincers are capable of crushing bones and can be used to bludgeon, while the smaller ones can easily disembowel someone if given the chance. In fact, the secondary pair of manipulators can double as emergency surgical tools in the direst of situations
-Multiple Walks: Shor'Gen can walk on his bottom three limbs as if they were a sort of tripod, or he can crawl in a more insect-like fashion.
- Unique Senses: Shor'Gen possesses the five cardinal senses, mostly thanks to the tendrils that stretch out of his head. These tendrils are hypersensitive, and they vibrate at the cellular level to produce unique waves. These waves, when picked up by his tendrils when they bounce back, function as a sort of "super-sonar" that allows him to view the world as a single shade of black with contours and even fine textures distinguished by lines. He cannot see colors, but he can "see" sounds. It is for this reason that he asks for total silence (whenever it is possible) when he is working.
-Carapace: Being encased in a carapace, Shor'Gen is somewhat resistant to physical trauma, and his insectoid nature makes him resistant to injury.
- Acclimation: Unlike most other races, too much atmosphere is harmful to Shor'Gen. Around the ship and on certain planets, he wears a device on his head (Something that looks like a clear casing or helmet of some kind) that actually reduces the amount of atmosphere he takes in. Other than that, his species is a mostly anaerobic one, and they can survive on planets with little or no atmosphere with no problem.
-Flight: Shor'Gen does possess wings, which allow him to hover and dart around like a dragon fly (except nowhere near as fast). Why his race has these despite the nature of their planet is a total mystery that only the Yug'Lonians are privy to, and they're set on never telling anyone.
Equipment:
-Medical Tools: Standard issue medical tools. Everything needed to perform surgeries that don't require an operating room
-Un-Breathing Apparatus: Shor'Gen's atmosphere reducing equipment
-Yug'Lonian "things": Tools and objects brought from Yug'Lon that have seemingly miscellaneous and strange uses. Occasionally, patients in check-ups will be prodded with some of these to no real effect, or Shor'Gen will be sighted staring into devices that produce colorful lights. Crew members get used to it eventually.
-Yug'Lonian Fog Projector: A weird weapon brought from Yug'Lon, these weapons project roiling clouds of choking green mist that slowly disappear after a few seconds, sort of like a flamethrower but with gas. The gas has the unique effect of melting any exposed flesh it comes into contact with, but it requires a charging period before firing and the ammunition is exceedingly rare.
Biography:
From birth, Shor'Gen has always been different from his usually secretive race. He was social, almost unusually so, and he displayed a great capacity for emphasis. After growing up on Yug'Lon, a single event changed his life. One day, a merchant's vessel came crashing down, and being one of the few Yug'Lonians nearby who decided to help, the experience changed him, and he decided to dedicate his life to helping others. After becoming a doctor on Yug'Lon, Shor'Gen still felt unfulfilled, so he decided to strike out on his own, and better integrate himself with the galaxy at large. After leaving, he applied to medical school inside the IGCP, and quickly became a qualified medical officer in the military. Despite his unnerving shape, his mostly stellar medical service records outshine any prejudices one might have against his form. Due to this exposure that almost no other Yug'Lonian ever receives, he's become more "one" with galactic society.
Name: Unpronounceable by anything other than another member of his race. Insists that the crew members call him "Shor'Gen"
Age: 150 years old by his race, 74 human years old
Gender: Male
Race: Other races call his people Yug'Lonians
Homeworld: Other races call his planet Yug'Lon
Position: Lead Physician
Personality:
Like all other members of his race, Shor'Gen is inquisitive and highly intelligent by nature. His people are a race of scientists, doctors, surgeons, engineers, and inventors, constantly developing new and utterly alien technologies.
Shor'Gen himself is a bit of an outcast from all of this. His race, usually insular and secretive, are almost exclusively found on their home planet, a single, near pitch-black, nigh-atmosphereless planet orbiting a dying star. He actively seeks to "fit in" with other races, often going so far as to cluelessly adopt the mannerisms of others for periods of time that can range from a few minutes to a couple hours before suddenly discarding them. The Yug'Lonians constantly adapt to the knowledge they receive, so Shor'Gen's personality is always in a slight state of flux. He's always more or less the same, but he's always got a new quirk that he picked up from somebody.
Shor'Gen takes his work extremely seriously, and carries with him a constant eagerness to perform his duties as a doctor. The first thing he always asks of anyone entering his quarters (which he keeps dim and cold) is if they're coming in for a check-up. Despite these traits, Shor'Gen can hold conversations pretty well, despite the fact that his voice sounds smooth and calm, completely uncharacteristic of the giant insect he appears to be.
Appearance:
The two large arms in the front are for self-defense and manipulating large objects, while the two sets below that are for the fine manipulation of tools, performing complex actions, and performing surgeries. The bottom three legs are set on specialized swiveling joints, which are detailed in Shor'Gen's abilities.
Abilities:
-Claws: Shor'Gen's primary manipulators (and the secondary ones) are much deadlier than they appear. The larger pair of pincers are capable of crushing bones and can be used to bludgeon, while the smaller ones can easily disembowel someone if given the chance. In fact, the secondary pair of manipulators can double as emergency surgical tools in the direst of situations
-Multiple Walks: Shor'Gen can walk on his bottom three limbs as if they were a sort of tripod, or he can crawl in a more insect-like fashion.
- Unique Senses: Shor'Gen possesses the five cardinal senses, mostly thanks to the tendrils that stretch out of his head. These tendrils are hypersensitive, and they vibrate at the cellular level to produce unique waves. These waves, when picked up by his tendrils when they bounce back, function as a sort of "super-sonar" that allows him to view the world as a single shade of black with contours and even fine textures distinguished by lines. He cannot see colors, but he can "see" sounds. It is for this reason that he asks for total silence (whenever it is possible) when he is working.
-Carapace: Being encased in a carapace, Shor'Gen is somewhat resistant to physical trauma, and his insectoid nature makes him resistant to injury.
- Acclimation: Unlike most other races, too much atmosphere is harmful to Shor'Gen. Around the ship and on certain planets, he wears a device on his head (Something that looks like a clear casing or helmet of some kind) that actually reduces the amount of atmosphere he takes in. Other than that, his species is a mostly anaerobic one, and they can survive on planets with little or no atmosphere with no problem.
-Flight: Shor'Gen does possess wings, which allow him to hover and dart around like a dragon fly (except nowhere near as fast). Why his race has these despite the nature of their planet is a total mystery that only the Yug'Lonians are privy to, and they're set on never telling anyone.
Equipment:
-Medical Tools: Standard issue medical tools. Everything needed to perform surgeries that don't require an operating room
-Un-Breathing Apparatus: Shor'Gen's atmosphere reducing equipment
-Yug'Lonian "things": Tools and objects brought from Yug'Lon that have seemingly miscellaneous and strange uses. Occasionally, patients in check-ups will be prodded with some of these to no real effect, or Shor'Gen will be sighted staring into devices that produce colorful lights. Crew members get used to it eventually.
-Yug'Lonian Fog Projector: A weird weapon brought from Yug'Lon, these weapons project roiling clouds of choking green mist that slowly disappear after a few seconds, sort of like a flamethrower but with gas. The gas has the unique effect of melting any exposed flesh it comes into contact with, but it requires a charging period before firing and the ammunition is exceedingly rare.
Biography:
From birth, Shor'Gen has always been different from his usually secretive race. He was social, almost unusually so, and he displayed a great capacity for emphasis. After growing up on Yug'Lon, a single event changed his life. One day, a merchant's vessel came crashing down, and being one of the few Yug'Lonians nearby who decided to help, the experience changed him, and he decided to dedicate his life to helping others. After becoming a doctor on Yug'Lon, Shor'Gen still felt unfulfilled, so he decided to strike out on his own, and better integrate himself with the galaxy at large. After leaving, he applied to medical school inside the IGCP, and quickly became a qualified medical officer in the military. Despite his unnerving shape, his mostly stellar medical service records outshine any prejudices one might have against his form. Due to this exposure that almost no other Yug'Lonian ever receives, he's become more "one" with galactic society.
(BTW, I found the perfect face to put on Tito.
)
Tito looked over to Flint, and chuckled. "Thanks for the observation, Doc." He gruffly said, blowing some cigar smoke out of his nostrils. "I don't know what kind of report you read, but everyone here's pretty clear on the fact that Rowe was butchered by some maniac. Everyone knows this." He continued, shifting his cigar to the other side of his mouth using his lips. He shook his head. Hell of a doctor they had here.
He traced Flint's eyes to Enrique, and also found himself looking at the security officer for answers. He took a few assertive steps forwards, other people stepping out of his way. "Yeah, what about the cameras, Enrique? Security's already gotta know who it is, there's at least two of the damn things in the Mess Hall." He said as he motioned towards one of the cameras on the wall of the conference room, and then stopped, looking back to Flint. "Just in case you were going to make another genius deduction, Doc, that's where Rowe was killed."
Tito looked over to Flint, and chuckled. "Thanks for the observation, Doc." He gruffly said, blowing some cigar smoke out of his nostrils. "I don't know what kind of report you read, but everyone here's pretty clear on the fact that Rowe was butchered by some maniac. Everyone knows this." He continued, shifting his cigar to the other side of his mouth using his lips. He shook his head. Hell of a doctor they had here.
He traced Flint's eyes to Enrique, and also found himself looking at the security officer for answers. He took a few assertive steps forwards, other people stepping out of his way. "Yeah, what about the cameras, Enrique? Security's already gotta know who it is, there's at least two of the damn things in the Mess Hall." He said as he motioned towards one of the cameras on the wall of the conference room, and then stopped, looking back to Flint. "Just in case you were going to make another genius deduction, Doc, that's where Rowe was killed."
Well, that was quite rude. FourSev's suspicions only grew as Loretta acted more and more paranoid. It was already odd that she disabled his microphone, but to disable his primaries? That was a completely pointless effort! Did she believe he would betray her? FourSev laughed internally at the idea. Due to the bacta-induced hyper sleep he was always kept in, his last deployment felt like yesterday. He was always in top mental state, and his record showed it. Giving her a rather stiff salute, FourSev exited the room, the doors parting to make way for him. If he could scowl inside his helmet, he could. He needed to contact High Command about this, but he had an errand to run first.
He took the turbo lift up to the surface, and stepped out of the mines, his navigation programs kicking in, drawing a path through the war zone that was Belona. He spent a few seconds optimizing his route, before drawing his T-21 and setting off at a medium-paced run. He would be able to keep up the run all the way to the command center, barring any interruptions.
And interruptions there were.
By the time he was halfway to the command center, he ran into a rebel patrol. They didn't see him coming, but his scanners saw them well before. The perfect situation for an ambush. They were heading towards him, so he hid behind a collapsed wall. All he did to spring the trap was step around the corner of the wall, and by the time they had drawn their weapons, a relentless spray of blaster fire had already mowed down half of them. The rest scattered, and with another well-calculated sweep, the rest were put down, all but one. Shifting his T-21 to one arm, he drew his commando pistol with the other, firing and hitting the desperately retreating rebel in the back of the knee.
The man collapsed, screaming with pain, as FourSev approached him. Stepping over to the rebel, FourSev made it a point to step on his other leg, snapping the bone like a dry twig. FourSev then grabbed the rebel by the top of his helmet, forcing him upright onto his knees and angling his head to look straight into the poor man's eyes
"Where is your base of operations?"
"I ain't telling you shit, Imp!"
"Very well. The next man will."
He let go of the man's helmet, and instead grabbed his throat, lifting him clean up off the ground as he choked him. The man scratched and scrabbled at his vambrace, before FourSev tightened his grip, and the man's neck snapped, his body going limp. Foursev dropped him, and went on his way.
It wasn't long before he came across the command center, his clearance allowing himself entry with no real problems. He made his way through the halls, until he finally came across the command center. The two guards outside nodded at him, before letting him inside. He walked in, and stopped, surveying the room filled with tactical analysts and communications personnel for Major Zorra. After locating her, he stepped over to her, giving her his customary salute and standing at ease. "Major Zorra, I have a message for you. Captain Loretta is requisitioning the rioters that have recently fallen under your custody, asking for them to be transferred to her custody. If transportation is an issue, I will handle them." He stated, and awaited a response.
The whole time, he was working his own subroutines. The only weapon truly wired to FourSev was his shoulder-mounted blaster cannon, so regaining use of his blaster rifle was a much simpler affair, something he could do (and did do) given a couple minutes and some peace and quiet. The blaster cannon, however, was a different story. The targeting, aiming, and firing systems were all integrated into his system, so there was no way for him to get that online without direct intervention from Loretta herself.
He took the turbo lift up to the surface, and stepped out of the mines, his navigation programs kicking in, drawing a path through the war zone that was Belona. He spent a few seconds optimizing his route, before drawing his T-21 and setting off at a medium-paced run. He would be able to keep up the run all the way to the command center, barring any interruptions.
And interruptions there were.
By the time he was halfway to the command center, he ran into a rebel patrol. They didn't see him coming, but his scanners saw them well before. The perfect situation for an ambush. They were heading towards him, so he hid behind a collapsed wall. All he did to spring the trap was step around the corner of the wall, and by the time they had drawn their weapons, a relentless spray of blaster fire had already mowed down half of them. The rest scattered, and with another well-calculated sweep, the rest were put down, all but one. Shifting his T-21 to one arm, he drew his commando pistol with the other, firing and hitting the desperately retreating rebel in the back of the knee.
The man collapsed, screaming with pain, as FourSev approached him. Stepping over to the rebel, FourSev made it a point to step on his other leg, snapping the bone like a dry twig. FourSev then grabbed the rebel by the top of his helmet, forcing him upright onto his knees and angling his head to look straight into the poor man's eyes
"Where is your base of operations?"
"I ain't telling you shit, Imp!"
"Very well. The next man will."
He let go of the man's helmet, and instead grabbed his throat, lifting him clean up off the ground as he choked him. The man scratched and scrabbled at his vambrace, before FourSev tightened his grip, and the man's neck snapped, his body going limp. Foursev dropped him, and went on his way.
It wasn't long before he came across the command center, his clearance allowing himself entry with no real problems. He made his way through the halls, until he finally came across the command center. The two guards outside nodded at him, before letting him inside. He walked in, and stopped, surveying the room filled with tactical analysts and communications personnel for Major Zorra. After locating her, he stepped over to her, giving her his customary salute and standing at ease. "Major Zorra, I have a message for you. Captain Loretta is requisitioning the rioters that have recently fallen under your custody, asking for them to be transferred to her custody. If transportation is an issue, I will handle them." He stated, and awaited a response.
The whole time, he was working his own subroutines. The only weapon truly wired to FourSev was his shoulder-mounted blaster cannon, so regaining use of his blaster rifle was a much simpler affair, something he could do (and did do) given a couple minutes and some peace and quiet. The blaster cannon, however, was a different story. The targeting, aiming, and firing systems were all integrated into his system, so there was no way for him to get that online without direct intervention from Loretta herself.
Tito cursed to himself. He took his cigar out of his mouth, ejecting the smoke from his lungs through his nostrils. The grey plum curled upwards before being sucked into the nearest ventilation grate. This was definitely bad, but the situation could have been worse. Worst case scenario, the fan could've flown out of control, sliced through the ducts, and punctured something more important.
"I'm not sure if we can spare the manpower for that right now, Engineering's too busy making sure the generator won't implode on itself when we leave. That old thing should've been replaced years ago. If it's absolutely non-vital, we should prioritize more important things. A damaged oxygen shaft's the least of our worries." He said as he glanced around at the crowd around him. It was more than obvious he was nervous, given yesterday's events. Rowe, of all people. Tito had known Rowe, the man wasn't exactly soft. Whoever they were dealing with wasn't just a nut, that much was true.
Tito placed the cigar back in his mouth, and crossed his bulky mechanical arms. "I'll look into who we have available. I don't want to leave this shaft alone, either."
"I'm not sure if we can spare the manpower for that right now, Engineering's too busy making sure the generator won't implode on itself when we leave. That old thing should've been replaced years ago. If it's absolutely non-vital, we should prioritize more important things. A damaged oxygen shaft's the least of our worries." He said as he glanced around at the crowd around him. It was more than obvious he was nervous, given yesterday's events. Rowe, of all people. Tito had known Rowe, the man wasn't exactly soft. Whoever they were dealing with wasn't just a nut, that much was true.
Tito placed the cigar back in his mouth, and crossed his bulky mechanical arms. "I'll look into who we have available. I don't want to leave this shaft alone, either."
Alright
kk. Quick question: being the chief engineer, what exactly is my jurisdiction during this transitional period? Am I just overseeing things?
Oh, well then I think we're good.
I'm eager to begin, but if we can wait for one other person, I think that'll be perfect. The more the merrier better less chance of being murdered immediately by the alien
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