Name: James Arleth (Ryen’s father) Age: 52- Deceased Image:
Top scientist on Syrae known for his updates to AIs and their integrations. He most known for giving them their own personality. This is because the AIs responses are based the main operator’s personality and how they reply to the AI and allows the AI to adapt and predict the needs of its operator. His Wife left after marriage of twelve years.
Classified work done on Beclaeobus involving brain activity of live subjects with a focus on cognizance awareness, schema, and recall.
”My father once asked me the point behind creating memory logs because I never forget things. I had to think of this for a while. I guess because I’m hoping that one day these logs will be important to someone. You see, when I die the chip in my brain will no longer receive electrical energy from my body and self-destruct. My father did this so that no one could remove the chip out of my brain- it being one of a kind. But what that means is that when I die, all my knowledge will forever be lost. Just like a normal being of flesh. The memory logs ensure that some part of me goes on long after the rest of me ceases to exist. I find it comforting.”
”Everyone’s body uses electricity, the created current between anions and cations, more specifically the flow of electrons due to the different potentials in the cells. It tells out heart to beat, and our muscles to move. It’s this energy that powers the memory chip in my brain. Some scientist claim the reason we forget things is because our brain loses the ability to find the information. It’s like forgetting where you put a tool in a shed. The tool is still there, you just have to remember where to locate it. The chip my father installed in my brain helps it to better organize my thoughts, allowing me to easily retrieve any memory. The physical price is a slightly higher metabolism. This psychological price is… different.”
”While I wasn’t born on Syrae ( or FDRY776 as it’s known to the Federation) it’s the only place I can remember living. We were six when I arrived, shortly after my memory chip was installed. It’s a cold planet, the surface being completely covered in ice all year round. There are few native species, none of them with sentient capabilities. It was first colonized by a group of scientists over 900 years ago. Others eventually came seeking freedom from the Federation’s rule or a safe haven on a planet where people don’t dig up the past. The scattered cities are built on geothermal vents and derive their power from the planet’s superhot core. It’s a hodgepodge of technology and cultures. Traders come by often, swapping out dated Federation Technology for ore and high quality gems found under Syrae’s ice-capped peaks. I miss my home.
”My father is dead. No. What I mean to say is my father was murdered. I'm not sure why... or at least if I am I'm afraid to record the reason down here. I know what those people wanted... but they'll never get it. That's why I have to leave Syrae. ”
Category 3 C: Hover bike. Mechanical license for standard and substandard AI equipped carrier ships.
Police records prior to her murder charge show a traffic incident where an autocraft had side swiped her, causing her to sustain only minor injuries. Currently she is a the lead suspect in her father’s murder case.
Worked under father for 2 years as a lab assistant after graduating. She also briefly worked for a cargo ship for a season.
Ryen is ranked only in upper middle of class. No category (linguistics, mathematics, computer operations, local history, life investigations, intergalactic races, etc.) is particularly high. In fact, further digging would reveal that her scores were steadily in the range of 83-86%.
Father: James Arleth- deceased Mother: Polla Arleth- no contact since Ryen was 8 Children: None
The time skip sounds good to me. I was going to put the background in the "character" section of the RP. It helps me keep my facts straight especially when life crops up and the RP dramatically slows down. I can put them in a hider.
Cool. I'm still working on the background information. I'm having to go back and comb through all of our threads to make sure things I said a year ago are still consistent. I'm also trying to come up with information about Ryen's father and mother, just in case.
I'm going to start working on some background facts that crew members would easily find if they go looking into Ryen's past. Would Ryen find anything on Lazlo if she went looking or would his 'file' be completely empty?
The hallway behind the door they’d disappeared through was wide enough to accommodate several humans walking shoulder to shoulder. The walls were made of beveled corrugated metal that echoed their faint metallic footsteps. The area smelled of grease, fuel, rust, and the sharp zing of electrocharged air. It all was quite the contrast to their ship’s sterile odor and Ryen couldn’t say it was a change for the better.
They continued to walk on for a few minutes in silence, heading deeper into the stronghold. Occasionally the hallway forked off, leading to other shipping docks. Every now and then the couple ran into other civilian visitors or Federation staff wearing uniforms that marked them as dock workers or patrols.
”You want to tell me what that way about back there?” Ryen said after she was sure the Buldos they had passed was out of ear shot.
Quincy stopped and pressed a button in the wall, summoning an elevator to take them up to other floors in the base. ”Not really.” the doctor replied stubbing out his cigarette on the elevator door’s frame. It was his third once since getting off the ship and from the way his hand lingered towards the front pocket of his lab coat, Ryen guessed it would shortly be followed by another.
”I think if people are coming after me I ought to know,” Ryen hissed as they door chimed opened and the two stepped inside.
”You know, Ryen,” Quincy said in a dry voice, ”Not everything is about you... Let’s just say it was an old associate of mine that I didn’t feel like chatting with and leave it at that.”
Ryen looked at the doctor’s face, trying to ascertain what was behind his curiously blank expression. Meanwhile, Quincy reached out and selected two different floors from the elevator’s digital control panel. ”I would stick to the upper floors if I were you,” the doctor continued, ”The more expensive merchants and goods are housed there. Some might even say they’re safer for an impressionable young lady.” He gave her a stern look at those words, the effect of which was nearly comical.
The elevator dinged as a soothing feminine voice called out the floor. ”This is my stop.” he announced. It wasn’t until the metal door slid open that Ryen felt a sudden surge of panic. From her limited vantage point, she could see what looked like a sort of market. However, the fact that it had vendors selling thigs was the only resemblance it held to market places she’d seen planet-side. The floor was grimy with wet streaks and puddles that reflected the light of nearby neon and holographic signs. Stalls, displaying questionable goods, were haphazardly erected and strewn together out of various materials. Trash littered the ground, causing the casual shopper to take care not to stumble into it. Needless to say, Quincy’s stark white lab coat was a sharp contrast. ”You should probably buy yourself some more shirts while you’re here. The same four are getting boring to look at day in and day out.” With that he doctor stepped outside and the door slid closed behind him.
Once again the elevator began to climb. Not for the first time in recent history did Ryen feel way over her head. ”I can always go back to the ship early if things get a bit hairy,” she out loud to herself, ”And Lazlo didn’t specify just how early I can get in.” Part of her, a big part of her, wanted to turn around now and head back to the ship but she suspected she’d be hard pressed to convince the AI to let her in this early.
As if on cue, the elevator slowed down and announced her stop. Bolstering herself Ryen stepped from the relative safety of the metal box. Thankfully, as Quincy had suggested, this floor seemed a bit more her speed.
These stores were set in permeant structures, some even having high security systems (as announced by signs) to dissuade those with sticky fingers. The ground was cleaner although like down below, trash was still piled up here and there. Sparking windows displayed everything from jewelry and fine collectables, clothing, skin printing, and the latest technological advancements all behind thick, shock proof glass. The latter of which caught her eye as Ryen made a mental note that she wanted to pick up some tools of her trade. Still, there would be enough time for that later. At this moment, she had more pressing matter to attend to.
Wandering around though the maze of store fronts, she eventually found what she’d been searching for. It was a smaller shop that served tiny, expensive drinks in fancy crystalline glasses. In the back were a few news terminals where one could sit in relative peace and peruse at will without being disturbed. Other than the shop owner, a small set Thortalbash with budging grey eyes, a male humanoid was the only other occupant in the store. From what she could gather from the reflection bouncing off his goggles, he was currently occupied watching the latest reruns of the Gongoriam Games.
The Thortalbash scuttled over, its sixteen legs cruising over the plush emerald carpet with practiced ease. After giving him her drinking order, she logged into the information terminal.
”Dr. Arleth found murdered in Park Square. His body was filleted beyond…”
”…reported critical information from lab was destroyed in an attempt…”
”…unresolved case lingers in citizen’s memory of…”
The last news clipping caught Ryen’s full attention.
”The daughter of the recently deceased Dr. Arleth has been reported missing. Due to recent evidence found in her home, local law enforcement has placed her as the prime suspect in the victim’s murder case. Currently her whereabouts are unknown. Please contact your local authority if you have any information. Due to the nature of her father’s death, the assailant is presumed to be dangerous. Do not engage.”
Alright. I posted in the IC before reading this. Let me know if I need to go back and edit my post. My idea was to get Ryen to a safer place, have Quincy brief her (in his veiled way) about avoiding unnecessary attention and then send him on his way to do his doctor thing. What Ryen will want to do is rather mundane. Since she left without packing much she'll need to go shopping for personal items as well as mechanical gear. After that she'll want to look into the news about her father's death, see what has happened to her bank account/credit card, and gather what information she can about her father without drawing attention.
“There are points in life that define what we will become, where the paths of what are and what could be intersect to such an extreme that in choosing one way, we alter ourselves irrevocably. Right or left. Stay or go. Lie or tell the truth. Hide or run. There were so many in my life after leaving Syrae. I’m certain that if I’d made difference choices I would be a different person… or dead. The second possibility is of course much more likely.”
Ryen gave Lazlo an exasperated expression as he assessed her clothing choice. His emphasis on the word criminal pinged something in her pride as did the expression that briefly played across his face. Did he not believe her when she said she’d nothing to do with her father’s murder or was it simply something else? Before she could ask him, however, he took the card in her outstretched hand and she had other concerns occupying her mind.
Ryen held her breath as Lazlo place the card inside the terminal. A nervous giddiness flooded through Ryen’s veins as time seemed to slow. She couldn’t bear to watch his face as she waited for the final verdict about her account but instead focused on the air lock door behind him. Once her eyes flicked over to the machine in Lazlo’s hands and she saw him speedily typing away. However, before she could inquire anything, he broke the silence between them.
”I'd highly suggest that you avoid buying anything which could be viewed as an offensive weapon with this card."
”Right.” Ryen replied, the word dripping with obvious anger and irritation. What kind of person did he think she was? Or did the captain’s statement have something to do with her card? Had something been wrong with it, like she’d feared all along?
”Make sure you get here early and tell the AI to start warming up the core for me."
Ryen reached out tried to take the offered card. However, it was clear the man wasn’t letting go of the metal chip just yet. Once again Ryen felt like something about their exchange was off. He’d been clear in his announcement earlier that no one was allowed to board the ship early but now he’d just given her early access. The ship’s AI would easily be able to warm up the cores itself if Lazlo simply told the computer when to do it. Ryen pulled slightly on her card again and felt the resistance of his hold. Their eyes met. ”Sure, I can do that.” At last the card slipped from his hand.
----
Stepping out of the ship, Ryen adjusted the Arubiat scarf, pulling it off her face and laying it over her shoulders. Lazlo did have a point. Wearing one might do more harm than good if it made her the center of attention.
The mechanic took a moment to take in her surroundings. As expected, the Fess Maria was currently in a shipping yard, B dock, to be exact. Various other civilian vessels hunkered down nearby. Wires, hoses, and various repair machines attached to them like tendons on bone. Screens high above displayed the time in FST and various other PT including Syrae’s. Blocky black paint made it clear to the new arrivals that they’d landed on Federation Stronghold in sector 700. Ryen walked over to a nearby panel located near the ship’s anchoring system. With a few quick swipes, she’d pulled up a holographic map of the portion of the stronghold civilians had access to.
From what she could gather, this place was part military base, part ship repair yard, part trade post, and part communication center for this small portion of the galaxy. Sadly, what she knew about the Federation, let alone their strongholds, was at best, lacking. Her school work had only brush on some Federation generalizations (perhaps because most people on Syrae had chosen to move there to get away from the government) and her father’s tutoring hadn’t bothered to add much. Odd, now that she thought about it, that her father had focused on language, history, technology, and major planets of the Federation without actually caring much about covering the governing body itself.
A hand clamped down on Ryen’s shoulder causing the woman to nearly jump out of her skin. Whirling around she was met with the grinning, smoke clouded face of the ship’s doctor. ”I almost didn’t recognize you.” he said, his expression not faltering.
Ryen shrugged at his comment, not wanting to let it be known that she was following Lazlo’s suggestion. It would be too close to admitting that the captain was right and after their most recent conversation, it wasn’t something Ryen felt up for. Turning back to the map, Ryen continued her survey, zooming in and out of various areas.
”Are you looking for something specific?” he prodded, ”A restaurant of some sort? Maybe some place to get a haircut?”
”Haircut?” Ryen replied absentmindedly, still applying her focus to the map. She was trying to create a mental image in her brain of the stronghold just in case. However, the sheer number of interconnecting passages and various transportation mechanisms made the feat difficult, more so with Quincy chatting in her ear. ”What’s wrong with my hair?”
”Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just always found red hair to be rather bold myself. I hear lilac’s all the rage this season. Lots of people have lilac hair.”
”That’s nice,” she replied, not bothering to hide the annoyance in her voice as she scanned over yet another floor. Gods, how many did this place have? Unfortunately she never had a chance to find out as Quincy grabbed her hand and proceeded to direct her towards the nearest door. Ryen would have protested if she hadn’t seen the strained look in the doctor’s eyes. ”Don’t turn around,” he whispered under his breath, ”Just keep walking.”
