Frater Jeremiah

Mobile Suit Gundam: LIFELINE

Governor Marcus Engan
Annona Colony

So at last the whole affair would come to a close, months of planning and preparation for the arrival of the Venue and its royal cargo coming to a head. Military Governor Marcus Engan could not have prayed harder for it to be so, after so much time and many headaches thrown in among the rest that was Venus. The colonies were still gripped in the shock of so sudden a transition of administration, and the newly appointed Governor had spent many sleepless nights contemplating the mess which his predecessor had so graciously left. But in the end, it seemed such a show of grandeur, strength, and pageantry would do the people well in so grim a time. Even Engan had to admire the way in which his adjutants and staff had prepared the parade and celebration, aside from the floral arrangements they had chosen which were playing hell with his allergies. Pennants flying the heraldry of the Empire, the Emperor's house, of Venus and Luna, all arranged in ever so subtle patterns to show an interconnection and unity between all. Screens displaying the arrival of the Venue and the reception were scattered across all the colonies of Venus, with non-stop coverage of the momentous occasion and the proceedings that would soon follow. Columns of soldiery marched in perfect time, well drilled and well dressed in their matching uniforms of martian make. They paraded through the streets, followed by deftly piloted Mobile Suits as they passed the gathering mass of citizens who had come to witness the arrival. Law enforcement kept order among the crowds, officers setting barricades and keeping watch alongside soldiery so that the swelling crowd did not spill into the street, and to dissuade any of the more violent element.

Of all this, thee jewel of the whole affair (aside from the arriving royalty) was to Engan's eyes the deployment and display of his newly organized Mobile Infantry. Inspired by the innovation of Mobile Suits, the Governor long believed that despite their utility, there were many operations in which such tools were unwieldy or ineffective. Raids and the close environments of urban combat, effective riot control, and the time-honored role of marines to board and secure enemy vessels from within. A Mobile Suit might have some use in the crippling of ships in void combat, but to actually go in and clear deck after deck of an enemy vessel was something best left to marines. As such, Engan had some time ago commissioned the development of powered armor for use in such harsh endeavors, inspired by the hardiness of Mobile Suits to create shock troopers able to withstand the fury of small arms and even light explosive weaponry. Now here they marched, after years of trial and error, clad in thick armored plates which whirred and hissed softly with every movement of soldier and mechanism. Heavy weapons were toted as though they were toys in the hands of children, and the Iconography of Mars and Venus were emblazoned proudly upon their armored chests for all citizens of the colonies to see. Beneath the hermetically sealed suits and grim-looking void-helms, there lied some of the finest men and women ever to take up arms in defense of their country, their kinsmen. Governor Engan felt no small surge of pride that many of his students could be counted among their number. These would be the soldiers upon the front line against those who thought they could undermine the very principles of their great Empire, to poison his beloved home against their fellow men.

Marcus put such thoughts to the back of his mind for now, however, and instead turned his gaze upwards towards the ship slowly making its way into proper position. The local defense fleet had begun its escort around the Venue, and he could see his own vessel Mons drift above the colony, placed a respectful distance from the guests of honor. Once more he made quick inspection of his person, and was sufficiently pleased with the immaculate state of his uniform and his well shaven face. He took one sidelong glance over his shoulder back towards his gathered retinue of officers, officials, dignitaries, and other such functionaries. Likewise satisfactory, a well organized and efficient group with which he saw fit to surround himself and share in the honor and duties which his office required. Now they would wait a few more agonizing minutes, and all the while Governor Engan cursed whoever had chosen those damn flowers.

Mobile Suit Gundam: LIFELINE

Governor Militant

Marcus Engan/Military Governor of Venus

52/447 R.C.║Zern Empire║Venusian║Male

Physical Appearance

A tall gentleman, standing roughly six feet, whose once-youthful features have steadily become touched by the withering hand of time, despite the attentions of Martian geneticists. With sharp features, aquiline nose, and deep warm brown eyes, the aging officer had fancied himself quite the looker in his youth, though now his dark hair has begun to fade with age and the stress of his position. His typical dress is the uniform of his office, with all the finery and dignity one might expect of so high ranking a Martian officer.

Personality Traits:

-Loyal
-Stoic
-Fair
-Harsh
-Dour

Biography:

From my father, I learned patience, and of strength to bear the heavy burdens of life as they fall by the grace of God. To persevere and work with skill and cunning, a lesson taken from my Grandfather. My mother taught me of compassion, and to wield forgiveness hand in hand with the rod. It was my Grandmother who gave me the wisdom to use both in their proper measure. Through the years of my life I have had many teachers, as all men do, and I am thankful that I was so blessed to have ones who knew well what it means to be virtuous. When first I went to work with my father in the mines, I learned fast that mine would not be so easy, or even fair, as the ones lead by those I now call my peers. Yet even still, here I sit within my quarters, orbiting the adoptive world of mankind by will of the Emperor himself. The lessons I learned in my youth upon Venus helped me to reach so glorious heights, as well as the many which came in time from many fine men, and some who were less so. Even now I remember the words of my superior officers, who broke and beat me as though I were a wild stallion from ancient Earth, molding my body in the crucible of combat and discipline. A boy of sixteen years left his home, dissatisfied with what fortune had seen fit to give him upon sweet Venus, and was made a man by the hands of Father Mars.
Through years of toil, duty, and war I earned the privilege of rank and all that came with it, and in time Father Mars came to see me as one of his own children. Pirates, dissenters, upstart nobles, all foes of the Empire I have gladly faced in my decades of service to my fellow man and the Emperor. Bloody work as it was, it has taught me much of the nature of my fellow men, their anxieties and fears, and the cruelties we might visit upon one another. The subtler arts of intrigue and politic became known to me in time, and I bless the memory of dear Captain Holtzman for his lessons in so frustrating fields of war. Without his guidance, I surely would have died broken upon the rocky shores of ambition and intrigue, rather than leave a score of my foes there to rot in ignoble positions. Such was his fate, God rest his soul, to die piloting the Oliver when he should have lived to succeed me. But such is the risk we take in our profession, one which becomes ever greater with the implementation of these mobile suits. I am reminded of when the snarling, hound-faced fiend attacked our ship and sent many a man to cold death in the ether. But such things I will not dwell on here, and instead pray for those men and the families they left behind. Now I have been again blessed with the chance to serve my own kinsmen, as well as my Empire in the capacity of Military Governor of Venus. The civillian governor's ignorance or worse yet, incompetence, has lead to great divisions within my home, which I hope to mend with my tenure. May God grant me the strength and wisdom to undertake this task, and guard the Empire from enemies within and without.
-Excerpt from the collected writings and ruminations of Governor Marcus Engan.

Skills and Abilities

Oration: Decades of crawling his way through the political quagmire of Mars and her colonies has given Governor Engan a rapier wit and skilled tongue, with which he has curried many favors and gained allies within the upper echelons of Martian society. In his position as Military Governor, it shall be an invaluable skill when addressing the people of his homeworld and in talks to ease the tension within the Empire.

Naval Strategy: From a simple ship's mate to commanding his own fleet, Marcus Engan knows well the ins and outs of naval combat within the void of space. Slow, calculated, and graceful, one cannot afford to make mistakes in position or timing. Ships, mobile suits, and marines all have their place in void warfare, and Marcus Engan is familiar with them all.

Veteran Combatant: Unlike many of his current peers and subordinates, Governor Engan has been veteran of dozens of conflicts across the Empire. Since he was a youth working aboard military vessels he has time and again needed to do or die in the midst of combat, in quite the literal sense. Though never trained to pilot mobile suits, the more traditional role of a marine and ship-to-ship combat is one with which he has been very familiar.

Administrator: The duty of commanding fleets, let alone planets, has given the Governor great experience in the day to day operations, logistics, and needs of running such a well oiled (if cumbersome) machine.

Miniature Enthusiast: Now that Governor Engan has begun to slip into his later years, he tries to find time for hobbies. Chief of which are models and displays of all sorts. Ships, mobile suits, even entire armies deployed upon hand-crafted battlefields, it is a time consuming yet fulfilling distraction which Marcus believes keeps him sharp.

Personal Items and Equipment

Officer's Sidearm- A beautifully crafted and well kept, if simple, .357 revolver that has served Marcus well through many years of service.

Long-knife- Given to Marcus as part of his first dress uniform in the navy, this blade has seen much in the years he has carried it. Though largely ceremonial, one cannot deny the effectiveness of such a tool in the enclosed spaces of a ship in the midst of combat. In his day, no marine or sailor worth their salt would step foot into port on shore-leave without their trusty blade close at hand.

Miniature Elemental Printer- A small gift from the Emperor himself (or signed by him at least) upon Egan's appointment to Military Governor. This lovely device allows Marcus to indulge in his hobby of miniatures and painting, producing all manner of quaint objects for his amusement.

Strengths and Weaknesses

Decades of service have made Marcus Engan one of the most seasoned and veteran officers in the Emperor's service, a student of war and strategy who has schooled scores of students in these same arts. However, even with the vitality and youth provided to a man his age through Martian genecrafting, time and the rigors of combat have certainly taken their toll on his body. Equally competent leading from the bridge of a ship or within a command tent as he is in the heat of combat with fellow defenders of Mars. Though recognizing their importance in a ever changing battlefield, the piloting of mobile suits is a skill which the old war dog has declined to learn.

Chosen Mobile Weapon

Guildenstern Heavy Cruiser Mons

Mobile Suit Gundam: LIFELINE

Governor Militant

Marcus Engan/Military Governor of Venus

52/447 R.C.║Zern Empire║Venusian║Male

Physical Appearance

A tall gentleman, standing roughly six feet, whose once-youthful features have steadily become touched by the withering hand of time, despite the attentions of Martian geneticists. With sharp features, aquiline nose, and deep warm brown eyes, the aging officer had fancied himself quite the looker in his youth, though now his dark hair has begun to fade with age and the stress of his position. His typical dress is the uniform of his office, with all the finery and dignity one might expect of so high ranking a Martian officer.

Personality Traits:

-Loyal
-Stoic
-Fair
-Harsh
-Dour

Biography:

From my father, I learned patience, and of strength to bear the heavy burdens of life as they fall by the grace of God. To persevere and work with skill and cunning, a lesson taken from my Grandfather. My mother taught me of compassion, and to wield forgiveness hand in hand with the rod. It was my Grandmother who gave me the wisdom to use both in their proper measure. Through the years of my life I have had many teachers, as all men do, and I am thankful that I was so blessed to have ones who knew well what it means to be virtuous. When first I went to work with my father in the mines, I learned fast that mine would not be so easy, or even fair, as the ones lead by those I now call my peers. Yet even still, here I sit within my quarters, orbiting the adoptive world of mankind by will of the Emperor himself. The lessons I learned in my youth upon Venus helped me to reach so glorious heights, as well as the many which came in time from many fine men, and some who were less so. Even now I remember the words of my superior officers, who broke and beat me as though I were a wild stallion from ancient Earth, molding my body in the crucible of combat and discipline. A boy of sixteen years left his home, dissatisfied with what fortune had seen fit to give him upon sweet Venus, and was made a man by the hands of Father Mars.
Through years of toil, duty, and war I earned the privilege of rank and all that came with it, and in time Father Mars came to see me as one of his own children. Pirates, dissenters, upstart nobles, all foes of the Empire I have gladly faced in my decades of service to my fellow man and the Emperor. Bloody work as it was, it has taught me much of the nature of my fellow men, their anxieties and fears, and the cruelties we might visit upon one another. The subtler arts of intrigue and politic became known to me in time, and I bless the memory of dear Captain Holtzman for his lessons in so frustrating fields of war. Without his guidance, I surely would have died broken upon the rocky shores of ambition and intrigue, rather than leave a score of my foes there to rot in ignoble positions. Such was his fate, God rest his soul, to die piloting the Oliver when he should have lived to succeed me. But such is the risk we take in our profession, one which becomes ever greater with the implementation of these mobile suits. I am reminded of when the snarling, hound-faced fiend attacked our ship and sent many a man to cold death in the ether. But such things I will not dwell on here, and instead pray for those men and the families they left behind. Now I have been again blessed with the chance to serve my own kinsmen, as well as my Empire in the capacity of Military Governor of Venus. The civillian governor's ignorance or worse yet, incompetence, has lead to great divisions within my home, which I hope to mend with my tenure. May God grant me the strength and wisdom to undertake this task, and guard the Empire from enemies within and without.
-Excerpt from the collected writings and ruminations of Governor Marcus Engan.

Skills and Abilities

Oration: Decades of crawling his way through the political quagmire of Mars and her colonies has given Governor Engan a rapier wit and skilled tongue, with which he has curried many favors and gained allies within the upper echelons of Martian society. In his position as Military Governor, it shall be an invaluable skill when addressing the people of his homeworld and in talks to ease the tension within the Empire.

Naval Strategy: From a simple ship's mate to commanding his own fleet, Marcus Engan knows well the ins and outs of naval combat within the void of space. Slow, calculated, and graceful, one cannot afford to make mistakes in position or timing. Ships, mobile suits, and marines all have their place in void warfare, and Marcus Engan is familiar with them all.

Veteran Combatant: Unlike many of his current peers and subordinates, Governor Engan has been veteran of dozens of conflicts across the Empire. Since he was a youth working aboard military vessels he has time and again needed to do or die in the midst of combat, in quite the literal sense. Though never trained to pilot mobile suits, the more traditional role of a marine and ship-to-ship combat is one with which he has been very familiar.

Administrator: The duty of commanding fleets, let alone planets, has given the Governor great experience in the day to day operations, logistics, and needs of running such a well oiled (if cumbersome) machine.

Miniature Enthusiast: Now that Governor Engan has begun to slip into his later years, he tries to find time for hobbies. Chief of which are models and displays of all sorts. Ships, mobile suits, even entire armies deployed upon hand-crafted battlefields, it is a time consuming yet fulfilling distraction which Marcus believes keeps him sharp.

Personal Items and Equipment

Officer's Sidearm- A beautifully crafted and well kept, if simple, .357 revolver that has served Marcus well through many years of service.

Long-knife- Given to Marcus as part of his first dress uniform in the navy, this blade has seen much in the years he has carried it. Though largely ceremonial, one cannot deny the effectiveness of such a tool in the enclosed spaces of a ship in the midst of combat. In his day, no marine or sailor worth their salt would step foot into port on shore-leave without their trusty blade close at hand.

Miniature Elemental Printer- A small gift from the Emperor himself (or signed by him at least) upon Egan's appointment to Military Governor. This lovely device allows Marcus to indulge in his hobby of miniatures and painting, producing all manner of quaint objects for his amusement.

Strengths and Weaknesses

Decades of service have made Marcus Engan one of the most seasoned and veteran officers in the Emperor's service, a student of war and strategy who has schooled scores of students in these same arts. However, even with the vitality and youth provided to a man his age through Martian genecrafting, time and the rigors of combat have certainly taken their toll on his body. Equally competent leading from the bridge of a ship or within a command tent as he is in the heat of combat with fellow defenders of Mars. Though recognizing their importance in a ever changing battlefield, the piloting of mobile suits is a skill which the old war dog has declined to learn.

Chosen Mobile Weapon

Guildenstern Heavy Cruiser Mons

The Occult Investigations Agency

Martin Caldwell

Martin Caldwell

---

OIA Designation

Race: Human
Gender: Male
Age: 53
Psychological Profile(Personality)
Dr. Caldwell is a man who lives for his work, his devotion to the occult and esoteric straining the relationship between himself and what family he has left. For him the search for truth and understanding is never-ending, every discovery providing further questions into the nature of all things. This obsessive behavior often compels the good doctor to lock himself away for hours or days on end within his office, attempting to decipher the messages hidden between the lines of ancient texts. His work with the OIA has only exasperated this behavior, as now it is not only his personal development, but the lives of innocents which lie within the secrets of these tomes and artifacts. As such, Dr. Caldwell views his work with a degree of seriousness bordering on the sacred. He has no time for fools, incompetents, or folks who expect him to do all the thinking for them.

This often leads him to become frustrated with coworkers, as the divide between himself and those outside his chosen field and department becomes ever greater with each tome he processes. What's more, he has become rather protective of the various volumes and manuscripts which fill the archives of the OIA, acting as steward and administrator over each precious scrap of information. More than once he has chewed out some greenhorn or investigator for mishandling the materials which he has dedicated his life to. In one particularly heated incident, the poor officer found himself with a concussion, after the ripping of a bound book caused Dr. Caldwell to launch a paper-weight at his head.

Background(Character Bio)
Born and bred in Arkham Massachusetts, Martin Caldwell's early life was largely uneventful. Good schooling, financially secure and loving household, several siblings and good friends. A typical American childhood with all manner of mundane trials and tribulations which in retrospect would not be worth mention. Martin's life would not really become anything of note till his enrollment in the famed Miskatonic University of his own Arkham. A boyhood love of history, mysteries, and religious studies would eventually grow into a prospective career for young Martin. While studying those subjects dearest to him, Martin met the man who would change his life forever: Dr. Wallace Shale, Professor of American History and an avid student of the Occult. Attending a lecture on the witch trials and folklore of the surrounding areas during the colonial era, Martin found a kindred spirit in his professor. To the young man's credit, he proved to be a quick witted and delightfully eager student for Dr. Shale to take under his wing.

So it went for over a decade, Martin being inducted into the mysteries of the occult by his newfound master while still studying those more mundane subjects of life. In time he received multiple degrees, using the knowledge he had gained to the benefit of his esoteric teachings by translating and documenting rare and powerful tomes of arcane and religious lore. When the time was right, Dr. Caldwell was introduced by his friend and mentor to the Hermetic Order of the Silver Twilight; an esoteric society dedicated to the understanding and subjugation of the occult for the betterment of its members and (to a lesser degree) mankind. It was here that he truly began to thrive, working tirelessly as agent and broker for the Silver Twilight. With the aid of his brothers and their many agents, he faced the horrors of the world, and thanks to the dedication of his mentor, walked back largely unscathed from these encounters. Contacting cryptids and spirits, brokering goods and knowledge, bribing and stealing from competitors, and a mile long list of other sordid business.

When their long hidden world of monsters and sorcerers was at last revealed to the modern public, many of the Silver Twilight saw both disaster and opportunity. Martin of course was of the latter demeanor, using his years of experience to become a more public authority on those subjects occult, while keeping his business with the Silver Twilight close to his chest. In time he would join a fledgling OIA, capitalizing on their need to understand the forces they now needed to fight and defend. Decades of experience and hands on field work made Dr. Caldwell invaluable to the agency's early days, providing all manner of artifacts, fonts of lore, contacts, and a rather large pool of resources courtesy of private individuals who have a vested interest in keeping the OIA as informed as they should be (and no more). Over the past decade, Dr. Caldwell has risen to the position of Senior Archivist, one which carries some degree of administrative power within Research and Development. In addition to curating their collection of esoteric knowledge, budgetting and interdepartmental affairs now cross his desk as well. There is little that goes on within the department that he does not know of, and that which falls between the cracks is never lost forever.
Assigned Division: Research and Development (Senior Archivist)

Specialization
Research and information gathering
Translation
Acquisitions
Occult philosophy and theory

Training
PhD of Religious Philosophy
A Masters Degree of Library Science
A Masters Degree of Linguistics
Training in the practice of ritual magick

Relevant Experience
Decades of work in the care, procurement, and sale of rare books.
Long-standing member of the Hermetic Order of the Silver Twilight.
Archivist of lore and artifacts for the OIA since its early days.

Notes
Dr. Caldwell has taken great lengths to tattoo and ritually scar his bare flesh with all manner of protective and powerful symbols, a measure which he thought necessary for his work with the Silver Twilight.

Martin has his own personal grimoire, which has slowly but surely grown thicker after years of access to the OIA archives and become an invaluable tool for his development and defense against forces of the dark and shadowed places of the universe.

The Occult Investigations Agency

I'm thinking of doing a more bookish and administrative/research character for R&D, any chance of having a position of some authority?

The Occult Investigations Agency

This seems like fun, I'll get started on a character sheet later today!

Dead

Chaf'eroso'neami

Name - Chaf'eroso'neami, goes by the Core Name of Feroson

Species - Chiss

Sex - Male

Age - 34

Faction Cult of Okussus

Appearance - A large man, standing nearly two meters in height and with a strong build. Feroson is a Chiss, with silver skin, eyes of vibrant red-orange, and a dour countenance. The corsair keeps his head and face shaven, but bears various tattoos marking significant battles and victories during his career.

Feroson

Apparel/Armor - The corsair's armor is a custom made suit built for void combat and boarding actions. It is comprised mainly of durasteel and ceramic plate and reinforced with a small bit of phrik. Several simple weapon systems have been built into its bracers, along with a small energy shield. A rebreather is built into the suit's helmet. Aside from his armor, the Chiss captain wears a simple yellow jumpsuit. When in full combat gear, Feroson wears a short cape of yellow cloth over his shoulder, out of respect to House Chaf.

Weapons - Feroson keeps a wide array of weapons upon his ship, as well as his person, possessing the tools necessary to dispatch of Jedi and soldier alike. Typically he carries a cut down solid shot scattergun, a blaster rifle, blaster pistol, vibroblade, and a wrist mounted flamethrower.

Equipment - Thermal detonators, sonic detonators, smoke bombs, communicator, grappling hook, flares, and emergency rations.

Skills -
-Fereson is a skilled combatant, trained in the use of firearms, melee weapons, and unarmed combat.
-A decade and a half of life as a sailor, officer, and privateer have given the Chiss captain a wealth of knowledge and experience in matters of naval warfare, particularly boarding actions.
-Born into one of the lesser ruling families, Feroson is well educated and despite his life as a corsair, has never stopped his scholarly pursuits. He is well versed in literature, history, as well as philosophy both secular and that concerning the force and to some degree the traditions of the Sith and Jedi.

Flaws -
-Like most of his people, Feroson sees himself as in many ways superior to other races and individuals who lie outside of the Ascendancy. Because of this, he is often slow to trust outsiders and new faces, requiring them to prove themselves beyond a doubt loyal and reputable in his eyes.
-The Chiss corsair is not quick to anger, but neither is he quick to forget a slight or offense to him, his people, and his house. Many a republic captain found his vessel hunted and crew slaughtered by Feroson for showing what the Chiss believed to be 'discourtesy' towards him and his fellows. In one instance even a Sith apprentice felt the cold fury of such a grudge, the haughty novice quite vocal on his opinions of the Chiss Ascendancy and their position as proper allies rather than subjects.

Personality - Officer, gentleman, merchant, and butcher. These are words to aptly describe Feroson, who time and gain has proved his ruthlessness in the theater of war. His is a stoic philosophy, always looking to make decisions and actions based not on the whims of his emotions, but upon his directing mind. To try and understand why it is these external influences cause him distress, joy, or anger in any capacity. That is not to say he denies his emotions, he merely does all he can to prevent them from getting the better of him. Throughout his career he has tried to maintain an air of civility, and show respect to those who were his enemies, even when slitting their throats and plundering their ships. After all, how can his people truly show their superiority by turning their noses to all others? True superiority comes from an understanding of the enemy and the other, and a mastery of oneself so that you are never quite so pitiable as they.

Backstory - Born within the territory of the Chiss Ascendancy on the planet of Sarvchi, Chaf'eroso'neami was born to the lesser ruling House of Chaf. Despite the rather low position his parents actually had within the family, he was still granted the same rigorous and expansive education all his siblings and many cousins were. History, art, politics, economics, philosophy, he learned them all and with great eagerness. Philosophy in particular was a great love of his, wanting to understand the nature of the universe and its many people in more than just a physical sense. Through all the years of schooling and grooming to be a representative of a ruling house, Feroson did his best to live up to the expectations of his family and peers. The young Chiss carried himself with the nobility, dignity, and grace that were so inherent to his people.

When he came of age, Feroson chose to set sail within a merchant fleet, eager to interact with the many peoples within known space. It would be during this time that his first steps into the realm of naval war and piracy. The captain of his vessel had contracted with the Sith Empire and the Chiss Ascendency to act as a proper privateer, and as such he treated Feroson and all his other crew as though they were on a proper military vessel. He was a harsh, dour man, but respectable and a gentleman worthy of great respect and admiration in the young Chaf's eyes. Over time Feroson would prove himself both in and out of combat, seizing goods, brokering lucrative deals for his captain and House, and ultimately coming to command a vessel within the merchant fleet.

Emulating his mentor, and the many heroes he had idolized in his youth, Feroson strove for mastery over naval warfare and the art of business. He became famous within his House, a scourge of the Republic and Jedi, while maintaining the values and dignity of the Chiss people. So this went on for years, his renown growing within certain circles, along with both his wealth and his skill at murdering republic troops and Jedi. Still, despite the success Feroson had within his own little realm, the war was ultimately lost, and he was left without his largest and best paying employer. So in the aftermath of the war, privateering became full blown piracy. With the war done and over there were no contracts to take, but the ensuing chaos left him with many opportunities for plunder and smuggling. Sith Remnants, scattered Republic vessels and poorly defended supply lines, even the cartels of the Outer Rim felt the sting of his work.

This went on and on, until he was approached by an emissary of the Cult of Okussus. They promised opportunity, wealth, power, and plunder and all at the expense of the bloated Republic. These things he already had, as well as the beginnings of a fleet. What drew him, what really mattered, was the chance to fight for a cause once more, and bring honor to the House of Chaf once again. So he agreed, supplying his men, ships, contacts, as well as considerable wealth to the cause of the Cult of Okussus.

Dead

Name - Chaf'eroso'neami, goes by the Core Name of Feroson

Species - Chiss

Sex - Male

Age - 34

Faction Cult of Okussus

Appearance - A large man, standing nearly two meters in height and with a strong build. Feroson is a Chiss, with silver skin, eyes of vibrant red-orange, and a dour countenance. The corsair keeps his head and face shaven, but bears various tattoos marking significant battles and victories during his career.

Feroson

Apparel/Armor - The corsair's armor is a custom made suit built for void combat and boarding actions. It is comprised mainly of durasteel and ceramic plate and reinforced with a small bit of phrik. Several simple weapon systems have been built into its bracers, along with a small energy shield. A rebreather is built into the suit's helmet. Aside from his armor, the Chiss captain wears a simple yellow jumpsuit. When in full combat gear, Feroson wears a short cape of yellow cloth over his shoulder, out of respect to House Chaf.

Weapons - Feroson keeps a wide array of weapons upon his ship, as well as his person, possessing the tools necessary to dispatch of Jedi and soldier alike. Typically he carries a cut down solid shot scattergun, a blaster rifle, blaster pistol, vibroblade, and a wrist mounted flamethrower.

Equipment - Thermal detonators, sonic detonators, smoke bombs, communicator, grappling hook, flares, and emergency rations.

Skills -
-Fereson is a skilled combatant, trained in the use of firearms, melee weapons, and unarmed combat.
-A decade and a half of life as a sailor, officer, and privateer have given the Chiss captain a wealth of knowledge and experience in matters of naval warfare, particularly boarding actions.
-Born into one of the lesser ruling families, Feroson is well educated and despite his life as a corsair, has never stopped his scholarly pursuits. He is well versed in literature, history, as well as philosophy both secular and that concerning the force and to some degree the traditions of the Sith and Jedi.

Flaws -
-Like most of his people, Feroson sees himself as in many ways superior to other races and individuals who lie outside of the Ascendancy. Because of this, he is often slow to trust outsiders and new faces, requiring them to prove themselves beyond a doubt loyal and reputable in his eyes.
-The Chiss corsair is not quick to anger, but neither is he quick to forget a slight or offense to him, his people, and his house. Many a republic captain found his vessel hunted and crew slaughtered by Feroson for showing what the Chiss believed to be 'discourtesy' towards him and his fellows. In one instance even a Sith apprentice felt the cold fury of such a grudge, the haughty novice quite vocal on his opinions of the Chiss Ascendancy and their position as proper allies rather than subjects.

Personality - Officer, gentleman, merchant, and butcher. These are words to aptly describe Feroson, who time and gain has proved his ruthlessness in the theater of war. His is a stoic philosophy, always looking to make decisions and actions based not on the whims of his emotions, but upon his directing mind. To try and understand why it is these external influences cause him distress, joy, or anger in any capacity. That is not to say he denies his emotions, he merely does all he can to prevent them from getting the better of him. Throughout his career he has tried to maintain an air of civility, and show respect to those who were his enemies, even when slitting their throats and plundering their ships. After all, how can his people truly show their superiority by turning their noses to all others? True superiority comes from an understanding of the enemy and the other, and a mastery of oneself so that you are never quite so pitiable as they.

Backstory - Born within the territory of the Chiss Ascendancy on the planet of Sarvchi, Chaf'eroso'neami was born to the lesser ruling House of Chaf. Despite the rather low position his parents actually had within the family, he was still granted the same rigorous and expansive education all his siblings and many cousins were. History, art, politics, economics, philosophy, he learned them all and with great eagerness. Philosophy in particular was a great love of his, wanting to understand the nature of the universe and its many people in more than just a physical sense. Through all the years of schooling and grooming to be a representative of a ruling house, Feroson did his best to live up to the expectations of his family and peers. The young Chiss carried himself with the nobility, dignity, and grace that were so inherent to his people.

When he came of age, Feroson chose to set sail within a merchant fleet, eager to interact with the many peoples within known space. It would be during this time that his first steps into the realm of naval war and piracy. The captain of his vessel had contracted with the Sith Empire and the Chiss Ascendency to act as a proper privateer, and as such he treated Feroson and all his other crew as though they were on a proper military vessel. He was a harsh, dour man, but respectable and a gentleman worthy of great respect and admiration in the young Chaf's eyes. Over time Feroson would prove himself both in and out of combat, seizing goods, brokering lucrative deals for his captain and House, and ultimately coming to command a vessel within the merchant fleet.

Emulating his mentor, and the many heroes he had idolized in his youth, Feroson strove for mastery over naval warfare and the art of business. He became famous within his House, a scourge of the Republic and Jedi, while maintaining the values and dignity of the Chiss people. So this went on for years, his renown growing within certain circles, along with both his wealth and his skill at murdering republic troops and Jedi. Still, despite the success Feroson had within his own little realm, the war was ultimately lost, and he was left without his largest and best paying employer. So in the aftermath of the war, privateering became full blown piracy. With the war done and over there were no contracts to take, but the ensuing chaos left him with many opportunities for plunder and smuggling. Sith Remnants, scattered Republic vessels and poorly defended supply lines, even the cartels of the Outer Rim felt the sting of his work.

This went on and on, until he was approached by an emissary of the Cult of Okussus. They promised opportunity, wealth, power, and plunder and all at the expense of the bloated Republic. These things he already had, as well as the beginnings of a fleet. What drew him, what really mattered, was the chance to fight for a cause once more, and bring honor to the House of Chaf once again. So he agreed, supplying his men, ships, contacts, as well as considerable wealth to the cause of the Cult of Okussus.

Star Wars: The Rise of Okussus

I'm definitely interested in this. I think I'll make a Chiss corsair working with the Cult of Okussus.

War for the Ragnarok Array

SOS

To anyone who might be out there, for the love of whatever god is listening I hope you get this and get it fast! We've been on the run this past month or so, fuck knows I didn't keep track. Soldiers, monsters, hell god-fucking-damned sorcerers showed up in the mix! It's been a shitshow from the start and we were caught with our pants down. Despite it all we managed to make our way south, us and some other folk we found along the way. Then met up with some... well tribals I'd guess you'd call them, said they were gods or some such bullshit. They were camped around some huge generator or something, I don't fucking know. Anyways, for a while it seemed like a safe place, they were strong, stronger than any of us that's for sure. But out of the blue a bunch of Road-Warrior rejects showed up and set the place ablaze. Some of us fought, most of us hid while the tribe went to meet them in force. It didn't take long for the bunch of savages to get ripped apart by the bastards.

We ran as quick as we could when the chief's head was cleaved off his shoulders and dashed on the rocks. I ain't fucking around man, these psychos got all sorts of weird grimy-lookin' tech on 'em. Big guns, mechanical arms, blades and spikes all over 'em. Hooping and hollerin' like a bunch of dumb animals as they wen't round rippin' out innards and quartering bodies. It was about a a day and two nights before they were done, and we heard their buggies and trucks roaring behind us. We scattered, different folks from different groups spreading out so some of us could try and make it out. Not many of us made it this far, found some big ass fort and locked it up tighter than a virgin in Gomorrah. Wasn't long before they found the place and now they're beating down all the fucking walls around us. Don't know who's out there, if anyone is, but help us out and we'll owe you, big. Sending coordinates out, and just gonna hope something worse than those bastards doesn't come a knockin'. Fuck it.

Coordinates