"5,000 years ago, our ancestors braved the cold darkness of intergalactic space to flee our long lost homeworlds. Many perished in the void, but many more survived, coming to this galaxy to find a new, glorious life. And so, I tell you this: we are here to stay. No cosmic horrors, no legions of the other races, not even fate itself can remove us. We foresaw what destiny had in store for us, and we defied it. It is what we do, and that is what we will always do."
- Sovar Qel'anis, Supreme Chancellor of the Convocation of Kul'Zarr "Kelmandrar! Why you not a doctor yet?"
Kelmandrar resisted the urge to roll his eyes as his mother asked him one of thos inane questions again. While he did treasure and love his family, they could be… frustrating to deal with. Even when he was hundreds of light years away from them, he could feel the pressure that they're trying to impose. Oh, who cares about that. In this economy? No way.
Though there's no way they could really find out. He could just… say that he was already one. That he got a doctorate in one of those space academies in the Rainbow Comet City, whose inhabitants were known for their culture and love for art more than anything else. Perhaps he'll just say that he is a doctor, technically… but in philosophy, that is. The art of overthinking and random bathroom thoughts about the laws of the universe.
"Oh didn't you know?" Kelmandrar finally answered. "I am already a doctor. From the… Academy of Sciences in the Rainbow Comet City. You know that place, right?"
"Oh, those folks," his mother said, squinting. Conveniently, none of the Hyrocs actually knew anyone from the Rainbow Comet City. Probably because the place is constantly moving around the galaxy's core and thus a pain to warp into.
Kelmandrar pouted. "You're not going to congratulate me?"
"Oh, yes, yes, I will. I'll send you an extra pack of credits this month. We are truly proud! But… it's just me at the moment. Your father is… I don't know. I have a suspicion that he's cheating with one of those les- I mean other species."
"... I'm not surprised. Well, I have work coming up now, so…"
"Yes, yes, goodbye. When will you come back here, to Sar-Vantha?"
"When the captain of the Eye kills himself," Kelmandrar answered. "Or dies in battle. I prefer that he keel over and die from food poisoning to be honest. Or gets stabbed in the back by an alien assassin. Any end that's not glorious."
Unfortunately, or fortunately, the signal began to sputter, and then died.
"Oh," Kelmandrar shrugged. "Well, anytime now-"
"Rise and shine, crew. Get your asses to the Mission Deck in ten, gotta brief everyone before we touch down."
"I'll be bringing this shiny ass to the Mission Deck," Kelmandrar said to himself, taking a moment to look at mirror to check the serrated teeth in his beak. He was sure that he flossed everyday…
Soon enough, he was down in the aforementioned deck, wearing a black cloak over his more… normal clothing. Of course, this cloak wasn't just plain; it was adorned with serpentine void dragons and golden flowering vines, with the centerpiece being a circle with white calligraphy written in the Kul'Zarrah Lexicon. The text read, 'weak'.
"Hello, captain," Kelmandrar cheerfully greeted, too cheerfully perhaps. "Tis a good day yes?"
The Chaos Sorcerer howled as Paolo nullified his vile incantations, the feedback loop of Warp energy cascading within his mind. The Tzeentchian psyker knelt down, screeching in pain, blood flowing like tears from beneath his eyes. Perhaps he was thinking what his Astartes masters would think of him should they learn that he was bested by one of the servants of the Dead Emperor.
Still, the sorcerer would not give up. If he was going down, then, he declared in the name of the Changer of Ways, he shall take as many worshippers of the Emperor with him.
Whatever promises or pacts he made with Tzeentch, the fickleness of the Chaos God of Deceit took hold as the Sorcerer delved deeper and deeper into the Warp, further risking eternal damnation. With one final heave, he attempted to cast another spell… only for it to backfire and leave behind a charred corpse. That, and several Pink Horrors jumbled out, with the spell apparently succeeding at the price of his life.
He'd have to put his faith in their capabilities to not buckle so soon in the face of trouble that found them this soon.
It was soon apparent that the Chaos cultists were beginning to lose momentum. The casualties they suffered were double of what they inflicted on the naval infantry, and the screeching Tzaangors were being picked off one by one. Still, they still fought on, elated by the promises of the ruinous powers.
The Tzaangor that Stukov fought brayed and screeched, angry that its prey wasn't folding as fast as the others. Its fury was only compounded when another of the naval infantry stabbed it in the back with a bayonet, prompting the beastmen to turn around and grab him by the throat...
“No time t’be lazin’bout! Yer Voidmaster is go-” His remark was cut short as a grenade went off, thankfully the full force of it was absorbed by the small pile of corpses that the Frontiersman was using as cover but the blast of it was still enough to send him tumbling past, concussed by the explosion.
Silas, in a similar vein, was affected by the explosion, though not as much. Along with the pile of corpses, the Tau shield generator that he used absorbed the impact. Though his ears rang and his vision was dazed, if only for a moment, he quickly came to the Kin's side, using the power blade to slice apart a pair of Cultists that were rude enough to approach with chainswords drawn.
"Grummore? Grumm? By the Throne… are you alright?"
Silas, worried, considered calling a medicae if the Kin didn't wake up within the next moment…
Outside, the situation had evolved rather quickly. The remaining Chaos vessel was successful, ramming and disabling the Gladius frigate owned by one of the other Rogue Traders. The spectacle was visible from the observation deck, with the two ships slowly crashing down towards the bottom of the Webway tunnel.
In the bridge, meanwhile, the augur arrays flashed with new, unidentified signs, yet again. What else was coming…?
Ship Role: Member. Could go to be a marine or fighter pilot, though he clearly likes to marine more. Race: Kul'Zarrah - Translates to "Children of the Void"
An enigma of the galaxy, it is said that this race of crowfolk came from a star system located within intergalactic space. Those who are present in the Milky Way are hypothesized to either be the survivors of some catastrophe, or a mercantile group that split off from mainstream society. The Kul'Zarrah are famously unforthcoming when it comes to their origins, instead speaking in convoluted riddles when asked about it. Or it could be that they themselves don't even remember.
They are divided into two subspecies. First are the Sarveli; biologically immortal, psychic, enigmatic, needlessly mysterious, possessing glorious wings, and some of the biggest racists you'll ever meet.
On the other hand are the humbler Hursar. The vast majority of them don't have psychic powers, and those who do are weaker than their Sarveli counterparts. The Hursar also lack wings, and aren't immortal (though they still live for around 500 years), but they have supremely perfect memory recall and a sweet disposition. In addition, they are far more numerous. It is unknown just what caused the divergence of the two, but rumors say that it was socioeconomic classes, with the Sarveli being the rich folk that thought dying of old age was cringe.
A high resistance to radiation is how they have inhabited the galactic core for at least five thousand years. It is thought that they genetically modified themselves during their journey from intergalactic space. They can walk around a leaking nuclear reactor without any ill effects.
A curious exception in this galaxy, the Kul'Zarrah practice democracy, with an elected Senate and Chancellor leading them.
The Kul'Zarrah average between 5'2" to 5'8" for the Hursar, while the Sarveli tend to be around 6'1" to 7'.
The Kul'Zarrah are an entirely voidborne race, living in scattered, continent-sized chains of titanic space stations orbiting stars. They are complete with their own ecosystems and geographical features, such as forests, plains, mountain ranges, and seas. Needless to say, these stations are self-sufficient. They're also warp capable, so good luck trying to commit war crimes on them.
Curiously enough, they are most common in the galactic core, forming the Convocation of Kul'Zarr as their united government.
Kul'Zarrah warships are renowned for high quality throughout the galaxy, and are regularly hired by other races to participate in planetary invasions, convoy raids, and full-blown Interstellar wars.
Personality: Kelmandrar is a pretty light-hearted kind of guy, often cracking jokes for no apparent reason other than… well, there's no reason, actually. Either way, being a Hursar Kul'Zarrah, he has what one could describe to be a chill disposition. He has been described as slow to anger, though that just means that pushing over the edge will be extra… spicy.
Nevertheless, having served in the navy as a marine over his long life, Kelmandrar is a fierce warrior. He often taunts and insults his enemies in the middle of a fight, goading them to attack without sufficient preparation. This tactic has been effective at times; sometimes, it's not.
In general, you'd want to keep this Kul'Zarrah around. He listens to the raging vents of other crew members, offers hugs when someone is sad, and will kill your enemies while calling them a bunch of weaklings. Who doesn't want that?
Biography: Kelmandrar hails from the Sar-Vantha Coalition, one of the many Kul'Zarrah station chains that lay within the deepest regresses of the galactic core. There, he lived in what was one of the most dangerous regions of the galaxy. Deadly stellar phenomena, such as gamma ray bursts, supernovae, nebulae, cosmic radiation, and so on were part of everyday life for the Kul'Zarrah of the Sar-Vantha.
Luckily, or unfortunately, depending on your perspective, Sar-Vantha shared the star system with a human colony planet. The humans of that world were descended from a fallen colony ship, which had been lost for years at that point. The Hursar Kul'Zarrah of the Sar-Vantha aided them in surviving on their new planet, while the Sarveli watched from afar with thinly veiled contempt.
And so, Kelmandrar was born into this whole affair. Having a normal childhood and adolescence aside (which, of course, included a 'phase'), he would grow to join the Sar-Vantha navy. He was a marine at first, defending the armed trade ship Solar Seeker from pirates as it travelled from the core to the galactic arms. After about two decades, Kelmandrar went on to become the marine chief of the cruiser Eye of the Storm, which would routinely sortie out to purge pirates and alien monstrosities. The Eye of the Storm also helped defend other worlds from invasions, for the right price, of course.
The turning point would be when the Eye, having been richly paid to participate in a planetary invasion, nuked several cities (probably killing a few million or so) at the behest of their employers. Kelmandrar despised that action, as their contract supposedly didn't have that in mind, but the captain wanted the extra money, either way. And so, Kelmandrar left the Eye of the Storm's crew, not even bothering to leave a letter of resignation. He just left aboard an FTL capable starfighter, wandering from station to station before eventually coming across the Star Breakers. Powers/Skills: Path of the Witch: Kelmandrar is one of the few psychics of the Hursar Kul'Zarrah. This isn't too apparent, though. Instead of flashy lightning or cackling pyromania, it consists of short term precognition and enhanced reflexes. He can see attacks coming in about 2 seconds before they hit, making him a menace in a duel. However, multiple opponents attacking at the same time can easily overwhelm this future sight.
Radiation Resistance: Just like the rest of his race, he doesn't give a damn about radiation. He can walk around Chernobyl and simply laugh at its feeble attempts to kill him. Way of the Sword: Kelmandrar is great at melee. He just is.
The Gun: As a former marine, Kelmandrar is a decent marksman, though he's no sniper.
Starfighter Pilot: He's no fighter ace, but he certainly knows how to use one and dogfights reasonably well.
Equipment:
Chainsword: Kelmandrar's melee weapon of choice is a blade with superheated, revolving teeth. It can grind through most body armor, and will cauterize any wounds it inflicts (while grinding up the insides, because, well, teeth).
Blast Rifle: Versatile, reliable, and.. did I say it was reliable? This laser weapon has a rate of fire comparable to an assault rifle, and a high shot capacity. Shots could be concentrated for more penetration and damage, but it becomes a single shot rifle in this mode.
Powered Armor: The main benefit this has is making him taller than he actually is defence. It's a light variant of powered suits all things considered, with protection mainly derived from the shield generator built into it. It can shrug off quite a few rounds, but slower moving things, such as melee weapons, can simply bypass the shield. Other: Kelmandrar is 5'4". Weight is around 58 kg. My favored sci-fi works? Hmmm, The Expanse, Space Battleship Yamato, Warhammer 40k, and League of Legends Star Trek.
So hard to do long posts when it's just combat hahaha. Just feels like fluff, responding to events from other posts, and then a little of your own to add color without going too OP.
Well, we'll be getting to the next part of the arc soon.
Ship Role: Member. Could go to be a marine or fighter pilot, though he clearly likes to marine more. Race: Kul'Zarrah - Translates to "Children of the Void"
An enigma of the galaxy, it is said that this race of crowfolk came from a star system located within intergalactic space. Those who are present in the Milky Way are hypothesized to either be the survivors of some catastrophe, or a mercantile group that split off from mainstream society. The Kul'Zarrah are famously unforthcoming when it comes to their origins, instead speaking in convoluted riddles when asked about it. Or it could be that they themselves don't even remember.
They are divided into two subspecies. First are the Sarveli; biologically immortal, psychic, enigmatic, needlessly mysterious, possessing glorious wings, and some of the biggest racists you'll ever meet.
On the other hand are the humbler Hursar. The vast majority of them don't have psychic powers, and those who do are weaker than their Sarveli counterparts. The Hursar also lack wings, and aren't immortal (though they still live for around 500 years), but they have supremely perfect memory recall and a sweet disposition. In addition, they are far more numerous. It is unknown just what caused the divergence of the two, but rumors say that it was socioeconomic classes, with the Sarveli being the rich folk that thought dying of old age was cringe.
A high resistance to radiation is how they have inhabited the galactic core for at least five thousand years. It is thought that they genetically modified themselves during their journey from intergalactic space. They can walk around a leaking nuclear reactor without any ill effects.
A curious exception in this galaxy, the Kul'Zarrah practice democracy, with an elected Senate and Chancellor leading them.
The Kul'Zarrah average between 5'2" to 5'8" for the Hursar, while the Sarveli tend to be around 6'1" to 7'.
The Kul'Zarrah are an entirely voidborne race, living in scattered, continent-sized chains of titanic space stations orbiting stars. They are complete with their own ecosystems and geographical features, such as forests, plains, mountain ranges, and seas. Needless to say, these stations are self-sufficient. They're also warp capable, so good luck trying to commit war crimes on them.
Curiously enough, they are most common in the galactic core, forming the Convocation of Kul'Zarr as their united government.
Kul'Zarrah warships are renowned for high quality throughout the galaxy, and are regularly hired by other races to participate in planetary invasions, convoy raids, and full-blown Interstellar wars.
Personality: Kelmandrar is a pretty light-hearted kind of guy, often cracking jokes for no apparent reason other than… well, there's no reason, actually. Either way, being a Hursar Kul'Zarrah, he has what one could describe to be a chill disposition. He has been described as slow to anger, though that just means that pushing over the edge will be extra… spicy.
Nevertheless, having served in the navy as a marine over his long life, Kelmandrar is a fierce warrior. He often taunts and insults his enemies in the middle of a fight, goading them to attack without sufficient preparation. This tactic has been effective at times; sometimes, it's not.
In general, you'd want to keep this Kul'Zarrah around. He listens to the raging vents of other crew members, offers hugs when someone is sad, and will kill your enemies while calling them a bunch of weaklings. Who doesn't want that?
Biography: Kelmandrar hails from the Sar-Vantha Coalition, one of the many Kul'Zarrah station chains that lay within the deepest regresses of the galactic core. There, he lived in what was one of the most dangerous regions of the galaxy. Deadly stellar phenomena, such as gamma ray bursts, supernovae, nebulae, cosmic radiation, and so on were part of everyday life for the Kul'Zarrah of the Sar-Vantha.
Luckily, or unfortunately, depending on your perspective, Sar-Vantha shared the star system with a human colony planet. The humans of that world were descended from a fallen colony ship, which had been lost for years at that point. The Hursar Kul'Zarrah of the Sar-Vantha aided them in surviving on their new planet, while the Sarveli watched from afar with thinly veiled contempt.
And so, Kelmandrar was born into this whole affair. Having a normal childhood and adolescence aside (which, of course, included a 'phase'), he would grow to join the Sar-Vantha navy. He was a marine at first, defending the armed trade ship Solar Seeker from pirates as it travelled from the core to the galactic arms. After about two decades, Kelmandrar went on to become the marine chief of the cruiser Eye of the Storm, which would routinely sortie out to purge pirates and alien monstrosities. The Eye of the Storm also helped defend other worlds from invasions, for the right price, of course.
The turning point would be when the Eye, having been richly paid to participate in a planetary invasion, nuked several cities (probably killing a few million or so) at the behest of their employers. Kelmandrar despised that action, as their contract supposedly didn't have that in mind, but the captain wanted the extra money, either way. And so, Kelmandrar left the Eye of the Storm's crew, not even bothering to leave a letter of resignation. He just left aboard an FTL capable starfighter, wandering from station to station before eventually coming across the Star Breakers. Powers/Skills: Path of the Witch: Kelmandrar is one of the few psychics of the Hursar Kul'Zarrah. This isn't too apparent, though. Instead of flashy lightning or cackling pyromania, it consists of short term precognition and enhanced reflexes. He can see attacks coming in about 2 seconds before they hit, making him a menace in a duel. However, multiple opponents attacking at the same time can easily overwhelm this future sight.
Radiation Resistance: Just like the rest of his race, he doesn't give a damn about radiation. He can walk around Chernobyl and simply laugh at its feeble attempts to kill him. Way of the Sword: Kelmandrar is great at melee. He just is.
The Gun: As a former marine, Kelmandrar is a decent marksman, though he's no sniper.
Starfighter Pilot: He's no fighter ace, but he certainly knows how to use one and dogfights reasonably well.
Equipment:
Chainsword: Kelmandrar's melee weapon of choice is a blade with superheated, revolving teeth. It can grind through most body armor, and will cauterize any wounds it inflicts (while grinding up the insides, because, well, teeth).
Blast Rifle: Versatile, reliable, and.. did I say it was reliable? This laser weapon has a rate of fire comparable to an assault rifle, and a high shot capacity. Shots could be concentrated for more penetration and damage, but it becomes a single shot rifle in this mode.
Powered Armor: The main benefit this has is making him taller than he actually is defence. It's a light variant of powered suits all things considered, with protection mainly derived from the shield generator built into it. It can shrug off quite a few rounds, but slower moving things, such as melee weapons, can simply bypass the shield. Other: Kelmandrar is 5'4". Weight is around 58 kg. My favored sci-fi works? Hmmm, The Expanse, Space Battleship Yamato, Warhammer 40k, and League of Legends Star Trek.
Personality: Alman has a generally pleasant demeanor, and seems to be "chill" most of the time. He is noted to be highly enamored by ‘cute, fluffy animals’, and possesses a keen sense of intuition of trustworthiness. Alman is pretty protective of those folks he happens to like, though those that he had a bad experience of could expect to be suddenly abandoned in the middle of a fight.
Aside from that, Alman is incredibly petty. Ruin his day, or his property? He’ll do the same, but he’ll try to make it a bit worse for whoever pissed on his parade. He is pretty much the embodiment of karma in this regard; actions will come back around, so better be nice to the guy, or else you’ll find yourself randomly inconvenienced by small, but infuriating things. Rule of thumb with Alman, then, is that he always returns to sender.
Appearance:
Alman is 5’3” in height, with markedly Caucasian features, though he gravitates to the somewhat tanner side. His pupils are amber in color, accompanied by black framed glasses. Those glasses are auto-darkening, and react accordingly whenever he summons stars. His clothing choices usually gravitate around cloaks and other comfortable, flowing garments. Apparently, he sees it as ‘liberating’.
As a Cape, he uses a suit that is shielded from the effects of his own stars, such as bright flashes and radiation. The cape on his back has a star pattern on it, which seamlessly blends into the starry sky at night. The vital areas are covered by protective kevlar, while a high grade helmet with a wide visor keeps his head safe. Overall, it is quite comfortable to be in, just as he prefers all clothes to be. It is not the most mobile of outfits, but it serves its purpose.
Biography: Alman wasn’t from Redline originally. Nor was he originally a citizen of the United States, either. His earliest memories, at least as far as he is willing to admit, traces back to their apartment in the city of Pristina, Kosovo, as the firstborn son of Selim and Jelena Kastrati.
Either way, Alman doesn’t remember all too much of his home country, as his family left it when he was five years old due to the highly volatile situation that it was in. They first arrived in New York City, and then moved up further north into Maine, where they finally settled down, somewhat. Now, they faced a whole new world.
As a child, he had the dream of becoming an astronaut, and reaching out towards the stars. Every night, he would look through the telescope, thinking of impossible dreams as typical for someone of such a young age. He knew every famous star and constellation, recognizing them as they shone in the night sky. Alman had quite a few difficulties with the English language, and was as such bullied for it in school, though that was simply the first reason. Other causes arose, namely because of his lack of aptitude for sports, and other generic reasons. He was passive though, and simply took it without telling anyone else, as he knew he couldn't fight back against the likes of them. Not like this. He would just get beaten even more. To make matters worse, his mother had been feeling unwell a lot of the time, but she always said that it was just her getting tired at work, which just made Alman worry to the point of being nearly physically sick. It seemed that the sorry state of everything was going to stay that way for a very long time.
One day, however, everything changed. Alman' mother had fallen ill. All those headaches weren’t just from the stress of work; it was a brain tumour. Alas, they didn't have the money to pay for the medication/medical bills to aid with her situation. She was, in all respects, dying.
In desperation, Alman’ father and uncle went to a dangerous, but deceptively friendly connection. They did not know what price they might pay in the process of getting the funds they required, but surely any sacrifice was worth it, if only her life was saved? By this point, Alman’ mother’s cancer was close to getting to a terminal stage, and there was little time left before it would begin to be difficult to dislodge.
That connection that they went to, it turned out, was a group for organized crime, who had them meet outside at night, where the Milky Way itself was visible in the sky. They were apparently willing to provide the money that the Kastratis needed, if only they would do something in return. That something, however, was heinous in its nature. Murderous, even. The boss wanted someone dead, and the assassination was their price. Alman father and uncle balked at this. They had expected something that would involve them and themselves alone, but it now seemed that this would be a life for a life. Now that they know who was the target, though, they cannot leave. Not until they say yes to the deal.
And so, the gangsters took hold of Alman’ father and uncle, and began to beat them to submission. The crime lord made him watch, forcibly keeping his eyes open even as he tried to look away. Here, he felt rage, and chaos. Rage at his father for believing that it was a good idea to plead the mafia for aid. Rage at the mafia for what they were now doing, and what they would make them do in exchange for a promise they may never carry out. He managed to close his eyes shut, if only for a moment, and heard only the chaos from his surroundings; the laughing of vicious thugs, the cries of pain, the sounds of blunt implements impacting against flesh. Rage. Disorder. They were all his to bear.
At that moment, an entity that skirted in the dimensions far above the ken of mortal perceptions found a suitable vessel. A shard unraveled, and in a split second, Alman was enlightened. He could now create the shiniest of lights, the fiercest of flames, the purest manifestation of starfire. And so, instead of his family being the victims that night, the gangsters were annihilated. Orbs of starlight burst into existence, setting clothing and flesh alight. The chaotic constellation that ensued wiped out the gangsters, purging them from the face of the earth. The gang were all dead, and the Kastrati clan still lived. The money, which had been in a suitcase as a fleeting proof of the deal they could have made, was now theirs for the taking. His mother will live, but at what cost?
Later in the morning, as the Kastratis recovered and spoke to one another about the events of last night, PRT investigations found traces of ionized gas within the area of concern, as well as charred bodies belonging to some of the most notorious gangsters in the state. Investigations pinpointed just who these gangsters were supposed to meet at the night, which led them to this moment. Self defense was cited as defensible cause for such wanton destruction, and the PRT didn't give chase.
That wasn't the end of it, however. Knowing that the expansive criminal network was never going to just let them go after this, Alman sought them out. One by one, the members of one of the great mafias in Maine were obliterated by undulating starfire. It took about a month of systematic annihilation, but in the end, they were wiped out. He would have thought that it was the end of the matter, with his mother cured and the gangsters purged from the face of the Earth, but he had to answer to someone else.
The PRT caught wind, and showed up in the Kastrati doorstep, having found that he had obliterated around a hundred or so 'people'. It was clear that Alman cannot remain in regular society like this. His parents were somewhat resistant to the idea that their only child is to go away from them, but they relented after about a week as the ultimatum became heavier. In exchange for around the clock protection for them, Alman was to enter the Wards Program.
Powers: Classification: Blaster 6 Astromancy: Alman produces and channels plasma energy. He is as such able to create and maintain up to four miniature stars at a given time, with three distinct modes that operate in a sliding scale of heat and light. They can move at around 7 to 8 meters per second, with any turns requiring pauses in movement.
Mode 1 (Searing Star): Capable of melting through most metals, as well as turning sand into glass at physical contact. By far the dimmest, but the most potent in terms of destructive potential. These can immolate most materials that they may come across.
Mode 2 (Blinding Star): Little to no destructive capability, but the brightness emanating when it is created acts as a powerful flashbang, temporarily disorienting and blinding those who had not protected their eyes.
Mode 3 (Main Sequence): Seemingly unremarkable, these main sequence stars, as he calls them, are able to sear wood and stone, and can be difficult to look at for prolonged periods. This is the foundation from which the other two derive from in their creation. Skills: When he was still unpowered, Alman was noted to be a great painter. Other: No girlfriend since birth, sadly.
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