The night was more than ten degrees cooler than the day. Under a starless night sky, two Kodiak shuttles zoomed across the arid landscapes of Namibia. They flew no more than twenty meters above ground; just enough to clear tress and rocks, and strictly below the scanning height of long-distance radars. Their sounds contrasted each other; soft swooshes of the first shuttle, the sleek resistance vehicle carrying three sneakier SRN members, was followed by the rattling of the second, which struggled with the weight of titanium armor plates and five heavily armed SRN combatants.
"Five minutes to target." Yarik announced from the cockpit of the first shuttle. Beanie acknowledged from the cockpit of the second.
They were close enough to the coast that the cool, salty sea breeze could be smelled through mechanical oil fumes of shuttle engines. Earlier tonight, before they embarked, the group had gone over their plan with everyone. Before that, they had time to rest through the afternoon. Thanks to the cover of darkness, the infiltration team should be able to reach the enthrallment device undetected. The distraction team would have to engage the enthralled drells regardless, in order to destroy a generator that powered the shielded perimeter fence. The alternative, which was breaching a section of the fence, was deemed too dangerous given the presence of traps.
Five minutes went by as more ship wreckages appeared below. The pristine sand beaches gradually became darkened with unnatural metal debris and charring from recent explosions. Finally, the spikes appeared. Dozens of stumps that were once dragon's teeth; with partially converted husks still impaled on several remnants. Beyond it all was the drell's camp. An improvised perimeter fence surrounded multiple smaller wrecked ships. Several sources of light interspersed among barricades and scaffolding. The center of it all was the giant cargo ship, over 300 meters long and fifteen stories high at its bridge.
"Splitting off to the north." Yarik reported. "We'll move in once you've made your approach."
While the infiltration team's shuttle hovered quietly beyond the northern edge of the camp, the distraction team's shuttle flew right over the southern end. The entire camp came alive upon their entrance. Searchlights pointed at the shuttle, movements scrambled across the scaffolding and the generator began powering up. But before any of the defenders could reach it, a disruptor missile (cobbled together by Beanie herself) shot out from the shuttle. it's explosion torn up the generator, and the perimeter fence died.
"Put us down, now, before they hit us with rockets." Katya ordered. The shuttle landed behind the wreckages of two tugs. Sure enough, a rocket flew over as it touched down, missing the shuttle within meters.
"Move out! Davai!" Katya led the distraction team. As soon as she landed outside of the shuttle, sand filled her boots. Alongside the clanking of armor and shuffling of feet were sounds winds and waves. Not so far from them (50 meters at their closest), about ten armed figures moved to interconnected dunes and other shipwrecks.
"Beanie, stay with the shuttle. Be ready in case we need to evac." Katya told the engineer. Whether she followed or not was up to her.
The first shot fired was not from anyone nearby. In fact, it was a high-powered sniper round from further inside the camp. It landed just in front of Katya; the ground impact kicked up so much sand that it blanketed her.
"Solveig, Yarik," Katya commed in between spitting out sand, "the fence's knocked out and we got their attention. You're clear to proceed!"
That single shot became a cacophony when Katya reached cover behind a rusted rudder. It was apparent the drells were indeed intent to kill. Thankfully, other members of distraction were able to find cover as bullets whizzed around them. When Katya peaked out again, she saw one drell soldier running from a dune to a fishing trawler. Katya fired a burst from her rifle, but it missed. The drell was much faster than the average Alliance soldier. Scanning with her visor showed another drell at the same trawler, and behind them was a scaffolding holding a lot of dried sand. If they could-
Bang!
The sniper shot again. This time, the bullet punched through the rudder and took out most of Katya's shield. Katya was knocked on her back by the sheer force. Getting back to her hands and knees, Katya wasted no time crawling to more solid parts of the shipwreck.
"Someone take out that scaffolding!" Katya shouted to closest members of her team. A high impact attack would be needed. "Drop the sand on them!"
Yarik had landed his shuttle 200 meters north of the camp. His team was just at the perimeter when Katya gave the signal, and the fence powered down in front of them. Along with the fence, several light sources also went out. Though even in near-darkness, silhouettes could be seen rushing to the south. Yarik raised his submachine gun, but the all enemies ran by without noticing his team.
Then came the sniper shot. It was not directed at them, however, the source was closer to them. Yarik signaled for his team to stop. He knelt and closed his eyes, recalling his eidetic drell memory. A second shot rang out as his eyes opened.
"Amonkira's spear, you're always making life hard for me, sarge." Yarik groaned.
"Sniper's on the bridge." Yarik pointed to the top of the cargo ship. "One of you take out that sniper, or our friends will be picked off."
"The rest of you, get in that cargo ship and locate the device. Clear out traps on the way." Yarik informed them. "I'm going to find the Locust." With that, he biotically leaped over a barricade and slinked off into the camp.
It took three days for the group to arrive. They rode among the rescue workers of a small relief convoy. Before that, they flown in to Africa from various parts of the globe.
Among the concrete clearing of a former human “beer garden” stood Yarik, the drell adept. Yarik was a diminutive soldier, standing half a head shorter than the average human. The scales of face were still a yellowish-green, which showed his relative youth. His light armor, originally a gunmetal gray, has been worn by wind, sand and explosions. He had been fidgety and anxious. The arrival of Sol Restoration Network’s “specialists” set part of his mind at ease, though only slightly, as he still paced back and forth and frequently checked the display of his omni-tool.
In the clearing around Yarik were sunshades of varying colors. Under the sun shades were crates, cots and dining tables used as cots. About a dozen seriously wounded humans waited in pain. Another dozen not so seriously wounded humans went about attending them, and kept this makeshift camp running. The plain white building behind them, a former pub, was their communication center. A satellite dish sat on its two-story roof, the only operational one left in the city. Hardy desert plants formed a copse around the site, beyond which laid the ruins of downtown Windhoek, or more precisely, a giant crater hollowed out by the explosion of a reaper’s eezo core.
The sudden stop of the convoy kicked up sandy dust all around them. Several humans coughed. Yarik was unaffected. Drells like him were naturally suited to desert conditions. In fact, seeing sand smother the remains of reaper creatures brought a sense of relief to him. As soon as the reaper’s perimeter shields fizzled, sandstorms swept through the city. In the past month, it was as if the human’s home planet hurriedly smothered its ugliest scars.
“Come on.” Yarik notified the engineer, the only capable combatant left, other than himself. “Let’s get them sorted out.”
On the other side of the murk and sand, was a group of individuals so immediately mismatched, that were circumstances better, the visual alone might summon a chuckle.
Each of them stood relatively near to someone else, and yet with a safe distance. The “rapportless foot”of distance, in fact. This would be one of this particular Sol teams first outings together as a newly formed group, and while all honest pleasantries had been exchanged, and while all focus was on the same goal there was always going to be initial unease.
Most of that, seemed to be carried on the shoulders of the grey-eyed human towards the back. This was all open area and was especially uncomfortable for Solveig, a woman who had made cold, lonely shadows her home for the better part of a decade.
Her smudged eyes glanced sidelong to Katya, and the fingers of her flesh hand twitched in nervous anticipation. The arm of steel was still. “Are you sure?” She asked quietly, attempting to gauge their leader’s feelings on the mission. Perhaps on their team too. It was hard to tell.
Beside her, the other human woman was slightly less uncomfortable. She swept the air in front of her with her arms, clearing the swirls of dust and sand. A relief worker ran by her in process, bumping her shoulder. “I’m sure.” Katya reassured her cousin-in-law. Some in their group had apparently put Katya up on the leadership pedestal; probably because she introduced herself as a former Alliance officer. Truce be told, she wasn’t sure how she would lead them, or if these people could be led in the first place. “This seems to be the place, and that must be our ‘client’.” She pointed to the drell approaching them.
“Is your arm okay with the sand?” Katya asked. She gave Solveig a kind smile, hoping to ease her obvious nervousness. “And hey, don’t worry about these people for now.” Katya referred to the injured resistance members and the newly arrived relief workers checking up on them. The makeshift camp was suddenly cramped and busy with activities. “I’ll do the talking, with our client, that is.”
“Sand,” Solveig began slowly, her eyes watching out across the horizon, “is coarse. Is irritating,” she sighed. “It gets everywhere but… it does no harm,” briefly she made eye contact with Katya again, her expression stoic as she brought the other arm to life, it was fluid and fast as her thought to move the fingers made it move to action. She preferred the cold.
“Spent three days once in a pit in a desert waiting for a slaver to rear his head. Buried in the sand…” Solveig explained. “Trigger still got pulled,” she clarified. “I’ll watch your back,” she added, her tone sitting in the uncertainty of a threat, and a promise of genuine protection. “Be careful.”
“Ah, that’s...good.” Katya nodded. She had a momentary pause hearing Solveig’s story. Solveig told something like this before, but just as it had unsettled Katya before, it was a bit unsettling now. “I appreciate it.”
Before they could converse further, the drell and the human engineer were in front of them. Said drell didn’t exactly strike the most menacing impression with Katya. “Looks like our korgan might step on him by accident.” She whispered to Solveig.
“Took you long enough.” The drell immediately started talking. “What’s the hold up? Said you were en route three days ago, why—” His whining stopped only with a look from his companion.
“Anyway, I’m Yarik, biotic specialist.” The drell introduced himself. Without waiting, he began walking back to the building. “We have the target map inside; my colleague will show you.”
“You avoided the crater on your way here, right?” He added, as if suddenly remembering a small detail.
“We did.” Katya replied. She glanced briefly at Solveig, noting how their client wasn’t keen on pleasantries. “The reapers really did a number on this city.”
“No, the reaper didn’t.” Yarik corrected. “The ‘Butcher of Windhoek’? Is that what you called that thing? It used the city as a processing center.” He confirmed with the engineer. “The crater’s from two weeks ago. Bunch of scrappers picked the wrong bit and blew themselves to bits. Idiots. Eezo radiation’s still around, though.”
“Yuh-huh,” the engineer said with a nod. “That was it… The Butcher… Ach. Oh.. And we did try to warn the scrappers too— I mean, best as we could and all,” she shrugged. “Oh- and I’m Erin by the way, Erin Bean. Most folks just call me Beanie.” The short woman stuck out a hand to shake with the new arrivals. “I’ll be helping as much’s’a’can.”
Solveig raised a brow. This woman… Talked too much, and so she locked her eyes intensely with Yarik’s own. Willing him to take over the conversation again. Katya had said she would do the talking. Couldn’t she interrupt the buzzing engineer?
Locking eyes with Solveig immediately caused Yarik regret. The frills on the side of his head twitched nervously. He decidedly avoided looking at her from then on.
Seeing their introduction was already headed to awkward territory, Katya shook Beanie’s hand. She grinned at this engineer; it’s rare (and not unwelcome) to find someone exuberant here. “I’m Katya Serova,” she introduced herself, “and this is my cou—squadmate, Solveig Wistrom.”
Breaking from her dangerous stare, she took to glancing across the camp instead — at the people there in various states of distress; it made her itch across the back of her neck and she frowned, still half listening to some chirpy exposition chatter from “Beanie”. “Where’s the target?” She asked suddenly — forgetting her own rule of staying quiet, after less than a minute of vowing herself to it.
“About 470 klicks to the northwest.” Yarik answered. He opened the building door with his omni-tool. Inside was a mess of cables leading from generators to computers to screens. Device buzzed and hummed across numerous frequencies. The center of which was a large holo table; its glow cast the entire room (with shutters closed over windows) in blue.
“Show them, Beanie.” Yarik motioned for her to start the holo map.
“Wait,” Katya noticed, while their engineer fiddled with the holograms, “can’t you contact allied command with your transmitters?”
“Oh, believe me, I’ve tried. Our hanar ship left the system without us.” Yarik sniggered. “ Humans, turians, asari, all ignored our request for help. Some of them don’t even know there’s still drells remaining here. Beanie thinks the incident with the scrappers scared everyone away.”
The hologram formed a 3D map of Africa, and Beanie zoomed in to Namibia. It appeared to be a pre-reaper war tourist map, with most settlements’ populations updated to zero. Yarik pointed to their current location.
“We have two shuttles in the back.” Yarik started. “Actually, I’ll show you.” He concentrated on a large window behind him. Static and sparks began forming around him. With a flick of biotic energy, the shutters flung open, revealing two kodiaks in an improvised hangar. One of them was a military model, up-armored, painted in the colors of the Illuminated Primacy and riddled with bullet holes. The other one appeared to be civilian and lacked markings.
“Show off.” Katya muttered.
“So, that’s how we’re going to reach our target within an hour.” Yarik stated. He went to the table, leaning against it with one hand and rubbed the back of his head with the other. A brief groan of pain escaped his mouth.
“Everything alright?” Katya asked, a bit concerned.
“Don’t worry about it.” Yarik dismissed. “Beanie, show them the target.” The 3D map shifted to the coast. “I believe it’s called the Skeleton Coast.”
“Lots of wrecks of old human seafaring vessels there. My friend can tell you the history later, if you like.” Yarik tapped on an interface and several figures appeared on the map. “During the war, it was an outpost of the collectors, those bug-like things. They used the spikes, dragon’s teeth, to ‘convert’ captives.”
Yarik closed his eyes and let out what was the drell equivalent of a sigh. “We linked up during the battle and hit the outpost. Beanie’s people provided a distraction while my team sneaked in the enthrallment device from the back.”
“Enthrallment device?” Katya asked, confused.
“Yes, that’s what the officers called it. It’s an orb, about the size of that krogan’s head.” Yarik went on. “Once we took it out of the container here,” the map showed a pulsing spot inside the wreck of a gargantuan cargo ship, “most collectors dropped dead within minutes.”
“Is that some kind of hanar weapon?” Katya had more questions than before. “Solveig, have you come across anything like that?”
Solveig shook her head slowly, finding herself locked back on to Yarik’s stare.
“The officers never told us what it was.” Yarik admitted. “Beanie thinks it relays some kind of signal. Anyway, the collector captain, known as the Locust, survived. It stopped attacking us and even fought with us when enemy reinforcements arrived. Not that it really mattered when the crucible fired.”
Beanie nodded enthusiastically alongside Yarik. “Having the device… Turned the tide for us, y’know?”
“Indeed, though we put it back in the container when the crucible wiped out the stragglers.” Shifting sands on the topographical projection represented the passage of time. “After the scrapper business was done here, we got reports of the Locust active again. So we took the orb back—”
“You didn’t kill it?” Katya was bewildered.
“No. It’s filled with dangerous biotic energy!” Yarik shot back. “What is that human expression? ‘Don’t want to prod it with a three meter rod?’”
“What I’m getting at is that the orb did strange things when we took it back out. Other drells started hearing hums near it.” Yarik took a step away from the holo table. “None of the humans heard anything, and I’m not sure why I didn’t hear anything. If I had to guess, maybe it’s because I’m biotic? None of the others had my level of talent.”
“Ugh, this guy.” Katya rolled her eyes.
“You know the rest from the job description.” Yarik concluded. He sat down on a crate. “There’s about a dozen drells out there. We turn off the enthrallment device, we may be able to save them.”
“What about the Locust, though?” Katya reminded the drell.
“It should be docile while the orb is active. We can kill it once the device is disabled.”
“That’s not a lot of Intel to work with.” Katya crossed her arms. "And it doesn't sound like you have a plan.”
“The plan depends on when we move out!” Exclaimed Yarik. “We have two shuttles, your squad’s got eight people, so two teams of four. If we attack today, the weather will be clear, then we need one team as a distraction. We can be stealthier at night, though I’m not sure if it matters with the Locust. Or we wait until tomorrow. Sandstorm should be hitting the coast tomorrow, right, Beanie?”
“Yuh, and she’s a big one too!” Beanie answered.
“There you go. I’ll leave you to discuss. I need to check on the relief workers.” With that, Yarik had left the building. Then there were just the three human women.
“Look, I’m not so sure about him now. He doesn’t seem to be lying, but we can’t have him do anything reckless.” When the engineer went about powering the holo table off, Katya pulled Solveig out of her earshot. “We have to keep an eye on him out there, more so than her. What do you think?”
“Agreed,” Solveig answered. “Don’t worry, he won’t be out of my sight.” She sighed again, watching Beanie in the background dithering around the room. “Or her.” After a moment she looked back to Katya. “Best time to leave then? Sandstorm could be good cover but dangerous. Daylight is dangerous. Nighttime is dangerous…”
"I would say daylight; least amount of unknown variables. But that also leaves us the least amount of time to prepare." Katya noted. She wanted to have a few hours of rest, but their location doesn't have much amenities for resting. "Night would be my preference, because that sandstorm is going to interfere with our flight. Either way, you're right, there's no getting around the dangers."
“And the groups, then?” Solveig asked with a curious tilt of her head.
“I’ll head the distraction group, while you go with the infiltration group.” Katya reckoned. They walked to a front-facing window, where Katya flipped open the blinds and counted the rest of their group members outside. “Take two or three other sneaky types with you. The rest of us will keep the enemy occupied.”
The interior was a lot brighter with two windows open. Sharp, artificial blue light from the holo table was gone, replaced by warm golden sunlight. The engineer was finishing her inspection of several electronics. Katya nudged Solveig toward her. “Bubbly, but she knows her stuff.”
“Hmmm…” Solveig groaned, before distancing herself without so much as a “goodbye” to anyone.
Right after Solveig came strolling by the engineer; Katya approached her. “So, Erin, Beanie, our drell friend seems to place a lot of trust on you. What’s your story?”
“Well, umm,” Beanie raised a hand to scratch the back of her neck. “Not from round her ‘riginally, but was here when the Reapers attacked. I was on a work job by chance. Got roped into helping out in bringing the sucker down. After that… Well… I guess I never left — not really a home to go back to now,” she shrugged, biting her lip. “But I like it here enough. People are pretty good to me and respect me enough, since I’m just a young’in and that. Earned myself some stripes y’know? Plus I keep things tickin’ round here.” She placed her hands into the pockets of her overalls. “Maybe I’ll tell ye more later, uhhh, think of an interesting tale to tell you and your crew when we’re all done’n’dusted? Say ya to that?”
With a long whistle, she looked out across the team that Katya had brought with her, and she made one final remark. “I absolutely, positively gotta hear how you got this bunch together too.”
Species | Class ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Human | Soldier
Dossier
APPEARANCE◢
At first glance, Katya doesn't cut the most imposing figure. Sure, she's slightly taller and heavier than the average human woman, but her physique clearly indicates that of a spacer, instead of a ground-pounder. She has a feminine figure paired with well-toned muscle: relatively large breasts, generous hips, sturdy shoulders, taut belly and strong limbs. Katya is in great shape at the age of 40, thanks to the military's nutrition supplements and exercise regimes. However, none of that is apparent under the standard issue field uniform and armor.
Katya's facial structure is typical of eastern Europeans, with hints of northern European ancestry. She wears her sandy blond hair in a bob, which parts slightly to the right and extends halfway down her neck. It's about the longest her hair can be while still fit under helmets. Her upturned hazel eyes often focus on the most pressing objective. Her nose is curved concavely with a hook, and her lips are heavier on the bottom. Finally, defined cheekbones with an overall round face shape gives off an authoritative yet motherly impression.
As much as Katya tries to carry herself stoically, she can only take so much before flinching and breaking. Since the war ended, she's been much less uptight around people. Maybe her vulnerabilities are too much to hide, or maybe that long held stress is finally releasing. Either way, what good is etiquette when everything formal lies in ruins? What's the point of standing at attention when there's hardly a chain of command left? After the initial wave of celebrations, Katya's face is just as tired as everyone else.
MOTIVATIONS AND OUTLOOK◢
Bitch, lover, child, mother.
Katya has been called many things, flattering and unflattering, and she's not ashamed to admit most of them are true.
Some people say Katya is a bitch, well, she's not a bitch all the time. These people probably see her as petty or ruthless, or occasionally, both. Katya really tries not to be petty, but some slights just have to be repaid in kind. There's a fine line between forgiving and spineless, and if she has to choose, Katya would rather wrong someone than letting them push her around. It is similar in principle to her ruthlessness, except, Katya embraces her ruthless side. After all, personal feelings are inconsequential next to the success of a group. If a few has to die for the many, Katya is willing to stomach that loss.
On the other end of the spectrum, Katya can be a passionate lover. Not only does she love her grandparents, her husband and her children, Katya loves her homeland, she loves to learn about history and cultures, and even loves her job (most of the time). This love is a mix of emotions and careful appreciation of the best parts of her life. It is also an understanding that when things are at their worst, what she loves keeps her moving forward. A soldier doesn't fight because they hate what opposes them. No, people like Katya know all too well they fight because they love what they fight for.
All these conflicting emotions make Katya a thoughtful adult, right? Or just a mercurial child? It's honestly easier to be a kid at times. When responsibilities become too much to shoulder, and they certain do, Katya closes her eyes and wishes she's still the little girl holding her grandparents' hands. Her fondest memories are those of her childhood, of a simpler time where there isn't a galaxy of worries to contend with. With that said, certain insecurities then persist even now. Can she succeed when many doubt her? Can she show compassion when her parents have never given her any? At the end of the day, when Katya throws a tantrum, as much as she hates to admit, it is because of her inner child rearing its tiny head.
Ultimately, Katya has to be a good mother. She has to be a strong and reliable mother figure to those alongside her. Earth is her home; if she can't lead those stranded far from home, who will? Sure, the reapers are defeated. But defeating the enemy is merely one step to winning the war. There would be no victory to speak of, should the victors never return. And when the victors do return, when Katya sees her beloved husband, daughter and son again, what will she tell them? She wants to tell them a good ending, an ending she will make sure her family will be proud of.
BACKGROUND◢
For as long as she could remember, her mother and father were never there. Even when they were physically near, she never felt their affection. But as long as would remember, her grandparents would always be there. Even when they were gone, she held them close to her heart.
As far as she knew, her parents dropped her off at her paternal grandparents' doorsteps in Volgograd as a baby. Her parents had named the baby, less than a year old, Yekaterina. And her grandparents, charmed by the little girl, nicknamed her Katya. Katya's parents would visit occasionally before she reached the age of five. These visits would be infrequent and brief; no more than three times a year, and no more than three hours each visit.
Fortunately, Katya's grandparents gave her all the love a little girl could wish for. Her grandmother, Lyudmila, or babushka Mila, taught psychology at a local college. Her grandfather, Maxim, was an eezo mechanic specializing in those new skycars. They were both semi-retired and lived in a large flat. On warm summer days, they would often take Katya fishing on Volga River. Those were the fondest memories of Katya's life. Cool afternoon breeze on her skin, the steady hum of the motorboat's engine, the splashing of lure, and the exhilaration of catching a prized sturgeon.
But school revealed Katya's childhood was not quite the same as everyone else's. When other children talked about their parents, Katya would gush about her grandparents. Then the question always came back to her: "where's your mom and dad?"
Initially, her grandparents would just smile sadly and say they were off to make lives better for everyone. Shortly before her seventh birthday, while they were watching news of the first extra-solar colony being established on Demeter, babushka Mila gave the answer: "you father is lost chasing stars."
It would be Katya's eleventh year when her parents returned. The news of that year would be of an interstellar conflict against the first sentient aliens encountered by humanity. Whatever her father and mother were doing among distant stars would no longer be safe. They stayed with her grandparents for several days. Her father, Feodor (or Ted), tried his best to connect with the young girl, but to no avail. Her mother, Oxana, on the other hand, barely acknowledged her.
Then they were gone as swiftly as the faraway battles ended. A bigger galaxy had been revealed, and Katya's father promised he would blaze a trail there. Lyudmila's disappointment was apparent, she believed her son had completely deserted his familial obligations. Maxim, on the other hand, argued some sacrifices had to be made to seize the best opportunities of this rapidly changing era, though he disapproved of his daughter-in-law's influence. Both of Katya's grandparents agreed on one thing, they failed to raise their son as a responsible person, and they would not repeat the same mistake on her.
During her teenage years, Katya would be ingrained with the most essential Russian values. Strength, compassion, sacrifice and loyalty, to one's family and one's colleagues. Her grandparents would show her the history of their home city. The towering statue of motherland's calling, the museum of the Great Patriotic War, the preserved wall where Pavlov made his stand more than 200 years ago. Through it all, Katya gained an appreciation for history, and a great sense of pride for her homeland.
Although her parents stopped visiting again, Katya had learned to overcome alienation in school. Quick-witted and never backing down from challenges, she excelled both academically and socially. She was often the head of cliques and honor student of social study classes, driven by competitiveness and a desire to cover her insecurities with accomplishments. By her 18th year, Katya had been accepted into Moscow State University on a newly created Systems Alliance scholarship.
Her first two years were a bit strange. Although she lived in dorms in Moscow, she would visit home when possible, and when not possible, her grandparents would visit her. Then the next two years would signal the biggest change in her life. In order to continue receiving the scholarship, recipients had to accept service contracts with the Alliance outside of the solar system. Even though Katya had traveled to several different places on Earth before, this was her first time going to space. It was difficult parting with her grandparents after 20 years. Would she never come home again, just like her father? No. She promised to return as often as she could.
By 2168, Katya Serova had graduated with a history degree from the academy on Arcturus Station. Her initial loneliness had been offset by dedication to study, a newfound interest in alien cultures, and several unsuccessful relationships. In addition, she had to deal with frequent stomach troubles from space food and living in artificial gravity. Still, she overcame them and accepted an officer's commission into the Alliance Navy.
She requested her posting back on Earth, and was posted to a spaceport in Sweden. It was there Katya met Nils Wistrom, a journalist working for Alliance News Network (ANN). Unlike her previous boyfriends and girlfriends, Nils was neither meek or overbearing, not too self-righteous or overly dependent. He supported Katya when she needed a shoulder to lean on, and challenged her when she became lazy. Most of all, he shared what Katya valued the most: dedication to family and open-mindedness for questions they did not have the answers for.
Upon finishing her first service contract in 2173, Katya proposed to Nils. They married soon later, on a luxurious cruise ship in the Baltic. It was a grand ceremony, where everyone was invited; her grandparents, her extended family, Nils' family, her superior officers, his editors, and even his strange and shy cousin Solveig, who took Katya's palm into her metal one and read vitality and conflagration for her future (whatever that meant).
Shortly after their honeymoon, the newly wed couple went back to work. The ongoing tension between human settlers and batarians was the event everyone talked about. Nils had been given the directive of interviewing refugees from batarian raids. Katya, inspired by patriotic propaganda, continued in the navy. In response to unconventional adversaries, the Alliance needed to expand its special operations capabilities. The Interplanetary Combatives Academy opened its doors to a wider range of candidates, and so Katya signed up.
The first course, N1, at Rio de Jainero, was a tough but manageable experience. While spending time with her husband and waiting for invitation to the subsequent N2 training off-planet, Katya found herself pregnant. So when the invitation finally came, Katya had to decline. There would be zero-G training, and such activity could negatively impact the development of her baby. It turned out to be the correct choice. Her newborn girl, whom Nils and her named Tessa, came to the world strong and healthy. In addition, Katya avoided a dangerous training accident on Europa that left three dead and a dozen seriously injured.
Even though her spec ops qualification stopped at the lowest level, Lieutenant Serova was nevertheless pressed into service during the Skyllian Blitz. Her first posting was an operations analyst aboard the carrier, SSV Nelson Mandela. Her job included no direct combat; it was mostly helping her bosses look over reports.
Back home, Nils had left ANN to become an independent producer. His position allowed him ample time for little Tessa. Unsurprisingly, Katya found the little girl preferring Nils over her. The feeling of alienation from her daughter brought back unpleasant memories. Was Katya becoming just like her father?
Speaking of her father, Katya got more than just flashbacks of him when she returned home. There was a message from Ted Serov, the investor of a shady interstellar freight company, and a recently arrested trafficker of red sand. He needed a psych evaluation from Lyudmila (whom once worked as a clinical psychologist), to exonerate him from any personal responsibility. But he was too ashamed to face Lyudmila personally, so he plead with a message to his daughter: "please make your babushka see, that I couldn't bear the burdens of this cruel galaxy."
Lyudmila's face was devoid of emotions. She said nothing when Katya brought her the message. It was grandpa Maxim that asked the questions: Was Oxana with Feodor? Where did he get the money to invest in this company? How did he even come across this "red sand" stuff anyway? Digging through the extranet yielded only vague answers. When Lyudmila finally spoke of it, she asked Katya. "Does he deserve a second chance?"
Everyone deserved a second chance, Katya thought. Everybody made mistakes, but the consequences of some mistakes were too grave to be forgiven. Forgiveness only mattered when one showed remorse. Katya's father was hardly remorseful. So personally, no. Legally, well, it would be a conflict of interests to be involved as an Alliance officer. Compassionately, yes; Katya wasn't supposed to be a cold-hearted suka.
The answer? No. Father wasn't there for daughter; daughter wouldn't be there for father.
Katya deleted the message. Sure enough, the news of Ted Serov's conviction was made public several weeks later. While watching the holo-news with Nils, Tessa barged in the living room.
"Mom," the little girl stared at the broadcast, "do you know him?"
"No."
"Then why are you watching-"
"Justice." Katya shook her head.
Tessa only got more confused. Nils sighed. So Katya left the room and let her husband watch cartoons with their daughter.
By 2178, the Skyllian Blitz had concluded and Katya's second tour had ended. She requested a less tumultuous posting next, and as such, appointed to the same academy on Arcturus she once studied in. The station had expanded since she was there last time, and with better permanent spouse residence, Nils (who worked primarily with online clients) and Tessa moved with her. Developing new training while completing a master's degree in strategic studies, Katya ascended to the rank of staff lieutenant. This relative stability also allowed Nils and her to plan for a second child; a boy this time.
But during her second pregnancy in 2181, Katya received the crushing news. Her grandfather was seriously ill. Apparently the cumulative eezo exposures during his career finally caught up to him. He was barely lucid when Katya rushed home. Within a week, Maxim was gone.
When she gave birth, Katya named the baby boy Max.
Later that year, her grandmother's health also deteriorated. Combined with her child leave, the Alliance gave Katya a full year off. She would spend much of that time with her babushka Mila. Katya would support her as they walked through the streets of Volgograd, just as they did when she was a child, except the cars have all taken to the skies and the old mechanic who pointed them out was no longer with them. Katya would steer the motorboat on the Volga, except she was reeling in the sturgeon (with much less success), and Lyudmila was smiling in the back seat. Katya would take her to revisit the memorials of the old war, now frequented by alien tourists, and show her their resilience as Russians.
"They don't have priyaniki here." It was Christmas, and they were in the hospital. Lyudmila was on the hospital bed, hooked up to Sirta life support machines. Katya sat by bedside, gingerly holding an aged and wrinkled hand. "But with these new meds, people live well into 120s."
"I'm sorry." Lyudmila suddenly said.
"You have nothing to be sorry for." Katya reassured her with a gentle squeeze of her hand.
"No, I'm sorry for your father." Lyudmila lamented. "I'm sorry Maxim and I couldn't give him the same love we gave you. Please, tell him, if you ever find the chance."
"I will, babushka; I promise." Tears welled up in Katya's eyes.
On the last day of 2181, Katya's grandmother passed away.
Nils, Tessa and Max were there during the funeral. Tessa was old enough to know what it was about, but she clearly lacked the connection with a great-grandparent. Afterward, Katya read Lyudmila's will. She inherited the flat, the motorboat, and a necklace of tiny seashells her grandmother always worn. The necklace was crafted during Lyudmila and Maxim's honeymoon on Cyprus, and every seashell was collected and strung by Maxim's own hands. From then on, Katya would always wear it, even under her dog tags.
On her last month off, Katya tracked Ted Serov to a prison on Benning. The security there was lax, and the prisoners were given a relatively large degree of personal freedom. Apparently, Ted had served the first half of his ten-year sentence doing hard labor in a maximum security facility. Now, he's deeply remorseful, undertook many community services and on track to an early parole. Well, that's what his files said.
When they met face-to-face, Katya saw a man she couldn't recognize. Ted agreed.
"You have all of your mother's looks." He started. It was true. Although Katya never questioned it, she knew she didn't resemble either of her grandparents. For starters, they were both brunettes, and she was blond...
"What happened to her?" Katya inquired, and frowned at reflections in the glass separating them.
"I don't know; Oxana left when we started moving red sand." Ted hung his head. "Smart choice. I didn't get this sentence for just running a 'smuggling ring'. One of our ships caused an accident on Asteria and crashed into an asari village."
That just raised more questions. "Why deal with drugs in the fist place?"
"Because we had no other choice. Back then, nobody's interested in human goods. Few alien spaceports let entrepreneurs like your mother and I through." Ted studied Katya's uniform. "People like you are changing that. I am trying to change too; I help recovering addicts here. But you have to understand, Yekaterina, it was a different-"
"Katya." She corrected him. "Okay, I'll put in an endorsement for your early parole."
"No, no, don't burden yourself." Declined Ted. "I should do my time anyway."
"Haven't you done enough time already? Or are you going to keep hiding from me? From your grandchildren? From saying goodbye to your own mother!?"
"Grandmother Lyudmila said she's sorry." Katya stated as a matter-of-fact.
Tears rolled down Ted's cheeks.
"They were working for the space agency when they had me. They were so busy!" He broke down. Ted's words came out as sobs. "I felt irrelevant next to their work; made me want to surpass them out of spite. They went to cosmodromes? I'll go to Mars, Jupiter, outer space...I forgot to come to home!"
Ted couldn't speak anymore, and truthfully, Katya didn't want listen anymore either. Her father looked broken, which caused tinges of pity to form. She shouldn't pity this neglectful, absentee excuse of a man. It would be unbecoming as an officer to show sympathy for a criminal, just because he's family.
Family? Her grandparents spoke of their work before, but never the impact on their family, and certain not from a perspective like Ted's.
Family. Katya was neglecting her own family. She spent little time with her husband and kids during her off year. So she left, with some closure and some unanswered questions she's content to bury. Tessa clearly preferred Nils at this point, but maybe Katya still had a chance with little Max. Either way, the last free week would be spent with those she loved the most, on...Bekenstein?
Oh, right. An old colleague of Nils opened a documentary studio on Bekenstein. They brought him in as the VP. The pay's great, the housing's bigger than the Alliance's, and he's directing holos that will educate all across the galaxy. There's no reason to stay on Earth anymore, so, what's not to like about this new garden world? Tessa sure liked it.
In 2183, geth, led by rogue spectre Saren, attacked the Citadel. There's also a new "geth dreadnaught", though nobody's certain what exactly it was. The most important part, however, was that the Alliance saved the council. Their success was attributed to Commander Shepard and SSV Normandy. Bekenstein received the news before everyone else. Seeing it on holo stunned Katya, but she felt immense pride in the commander's victory.
Upon returning to full active duty, Katya felt elated to be offered a promotion to lieutenant commander and an executive officer posting aboard a Normandy-class frigate. The ship was called SSV Stalingrad.
Never could she imagine returning to her home city to christen a spacecraft. But there Katya was, at Volgograd Spaceport, smashing a bottle of champagne against the nose of a stealth frigate. In a partly pre-written and partly improvised speech, Lieutenant Commander Serova spoke of the bloodiest battle in human history, how heroes sacrificed everything to defeat tyranny, and how former enemies now live side by side as brothers and sisters. Then she thanked her grandparents for making everything possible. For three days, her speech made ANN headlines.
That evening, Katya visited their graves. "If only you could see me now."
However, not everyone liked the symbolism. The Stalingrad was scheduled for the third fleet. When Nitesh Singh, a cynical old admiral in charge of that fleet, was interviewed, he said the ceremony was "a sentimental waste of time" and "no Alliance vessel should bear the name of humanity's worst dictators."
"By the way," Singh added, "that XO's only an N1. All special operation-capable officers need N2 at minimum."
SSV Stalingrad was reassigned to the first fleet (under Admiral Ines Lindholm) in the ensuing controversies. Out of sheer spite for that tupitsa Singh, Katya enrolled in N2 on her first extended leave. She was one of the oldest candidates, but that didn't stop her from persevering. The harsh air on Europa, the nauseating smell of thermal clips, the bruises, cuts and dislocated joints, the near-exposure to vacuum and the constant stress day in and day out only fueled her. After the graduation ceremony, she practically collapsed (with joy, though).
A fellow Russian at N2, a young PFC named Kuznetsov, took to calling Katya Tyotushka. He followed the experienced Katya like a lost puppy. Afterward, she brought him to the Stalingrad, and everyone started calling her Tyotushka. It was a sign that many onboard admired her (professionally, of course). That included the frigate's captain, Commander Jin Cheng. A fellow history enthusiast, the two of them often discussed their ancestral cultures, of how both the Chinese and Russians valued family and sacrifice. Then there's the pilot, Lieutenant Alice Kurvitz, whose exuberant demeanor belied extensive alien cultural knowledge.
When the first fleet narrowly escaped reapers at Charon relay, Stalingrad was performing solo recon near batarian space. They regrouped with other fleets, and learned the scale of this war was unlike anything ever seen (or even imagined). Arcturus Station was destroyed, everyone inside, including the entire parliament, was dead. Earth fell in a matter of hours, and now these monstrous foes were massacring by the billions. It was no surprise a conflict was on the horizon; Commander Shepard's recent exploits proved that. What was surprising, however, was the pure devastation. The loss of life dwarfed the world wars Katya read so much about.
Thankfully, her family was safe. Nils was making a marine biology documentary on Arvuna, a planet the reapers apparently ignored. Tessa and Max traveled with him to see deinorostrums. They stayed on the planet for the remainder of war. They could not have been luckier; reapers eventually glassed Bekenstein, and seized the Citadel.
This meant Katya fought with a peace of mind. Many of Stalingrad's crew were scared and angry, but she was their voice of reason. They rarely engaged any reaper directly, instead, they ferried spec ops behind enemy lines and rescued civilians. All those years planning operations paid dividends; combined with Katya's decisiveness and her willingness to make tough calls, she was instrumental in Stalingrad becoming one of the most effective frigates (other than Normandy SR-2, of course). The battles not only occurred in space, but also on the ground. Every crew member fired shots at the enemy, and some, like Katya herself, gained impressive marksmanship.
2186 came to its end, and so did the final battle. SSV Stalingrad rejoined the first fleet as an element of sword, the space offensive to retake Earth. Though their role was actually a distraction, to keep reaper capital ships away from the Crucible and clear a path for the ground assault. The Stalingrad screened occulus drones until hammer called for backup. Commander Shepard's team encountered intense opposition in London, but to make things worse, reapers across the globe were converging on Great Britain. To keep them away, Admiral Lindholm dispatched SSV Stalingrad to Southern Russia. Where it dropped off N7 operatives and resupplied local partisans.
In and out before before they knew it. Stalingrad needed to return to formation, where sword was taking a beating. But Katya noticed a reaper destroyer nesting in Volgograd, devastating her home city and turning defenseless civilians into husks. They must engage it, if nothing else, they're fighting for the ship's namesake, its "home port", for the lives laid down here 244 years ago, and for the symbol of defiance. Her rousing speech convinced the crew, and even Commander Jin, who had been notoriously cautious.
The fight itself was less encouraging. Not only did the destroyer outgun Stalingrad, harvesters and ravagers provided additional ground to air firepower. The frigate crashed down, killing half of its crew, including Commander Jin. Then the reaper creatures swept in like wildfire. The survivors were picked off one after another. A banshee impaled Kuznetsov right in front of Katya's eyes. Lieutenant Kurvitz was seconds away from being trampled by a brute when the red pulse permeated across the land.
This was the crucible's power. The reapers were dead. The war was over.
Katya lived. She was among victors, was she?
The destruction of relays didn't bother her nearly as much as most. She was home, among the ruins of home, but home nevertheless. She would like to reunite with her husband and children eventually, but she could wait knowing they were safe. What bothered her were the consequences of her last command. She ordered her crew on a meaningless suicide attack. Only eight survived in the end, and every single one, except for Kurvitz, resented her.
Of course, the highest ranking officer in charge had to be none other than Singh himself. Hackett and Lindholm both fled. Katya didn't even report in, she stayed where she grew up and helped the partisans. Kurvitz went to Estonia to check on distant relatives. The other survivors did report in. Two weeks later, they were all summoned to Geneva, the temporary Alliance HQ.
What proceeded was the shortest "court martial" ever. Kurvitz defended Katya, the other survivors testified against her. The charges were insubordination, incompetence, failure to execute mission protocol, desertion, and other military-legal jargon that were irrelevant given their current situation. Katya didn't deny or admit any of them. She just recounted exactly what she did. She did the right things and most of her crew followed her orders for a reason. Singh had none of it. He literally ripped the insignias from Katya's uniform and gave her a four word dishonorable discharge: "get the hell out."
Perhaps it was concern that this ublyudok now led the most powerful galactic military coalition drove Katya to Sol Restoration Network. Or perhaps it was the fact she felt she needed to redeem herself for the death of her crewmates. It could even be her need to establish a positive reputation, to be a role model when she eventual tells her kids her story. And most simply, Katya needed credits if she wanted to see her family again. Whatever the case, it was a stroke of sheer luck that SRN came online minutes after Katya opened the closest computer terminal. She submitted her application, and within days, got matched to a job.
Capabilities
FLAWS◢
Indigestion: Studies have shown artificial gravity generated by modern spacecrafts affects many aspects of the human digestive process. Nicknamed "gas effect" by spacers, for the excess of stomach gasses, this is a puzzling phenomenon with no apparent cure. In addition, space food are typically more difficult to digest, owing to their processing, artificial ingredients and often lack of preparation. Symptoms include constipation, bloating, nausea, fatigue and loss of appetite. Long term effects may lead to muscle atrophy, weakened taste, smell and sight, and gastrointestinal infections.
Left-handed: It's amazing how many "universal" interfaces are made specifically for right-handed people. Are all species dominated by right-handers? Either way, more ambidextrous features on everything from consoles to guns would make Katya's life a lot easier. It's 2187, damn it!
POWERS◢
Tactical scan
Concussive shot
Shield boost
Omni grenade
ACCOMPLISHMENTS AND CRIMES◢
Marksman proficiency ribbon
Interplanetary Combatives Academy "N2" designation
Lieutenant Commander, Systems Alliance Navy
Dishonorably discharged
RELATIONS AND AFFILIATIONS◢
Nils Wistrom - Husband (alive)
Tessa Serova-Wistrom - Daughter (alive)
Max Serov-Wistrom - Son (alive)
Feodor "Ted" Serov - Father (alive, imprisoned)
Oxana Khovanskaya - Mother (unknown)
Maxim Serov - Grandfather (deceased)
Lyudmila "Mila" Serova - Grandmother (deceased)
Commander Jin Cheng - CO of SSV Stalingrad (deceased)
Lieutenant Alice Kurvitz - Pilot of SSV Stalingrad (alive)
Corporal Kuznetsov - Security on SSV Stalingrad (deceased)
Solveig Wistrom - Cousin-in-law (alive)
OPINIONS◢
From datapad notes added to each team member's profile:
As difficult to talk to as Solveig has always been, she is not an uncaring individual. She may seem like a reserved woman, but she is also a woman of action, and when it comes it, a dependable woman. Sol spoke of the stars' meanings at family gatherings, and at Alliance bases, she spoke only of the classified natures of her missions. Neither make great conversations. Still, there's no one more dear than cousin Sol right now; she's the family left here on Earth.
Obviously a fidgety one: keen-eyed and a bit paranoid. What has he seen in just 15 years of life? The desert environment seems to bother him the most, but at least he's staying hydrated. And about hydration, that flask isn't containing alcohol, isn't it? Drinking right before action is worrisome, but hey, maybe it's not so much with salarian metabolism?
Definitely the least combat-experienced team member; Janiri's unease is apparent. There's something else beneath the asari's nervousness: a strong work ethic, which many brash recruits can't wrap their heads around. Even though her lack of biotic skills seem atypical of asaris, Janiri's tech expertise has already proven its worth.
The largest combatant; a towering presence both on and off the battlefield. Having a big, thick krogan is great for drawing enemy fire, but Karnoc does more than that. He's confident, a good shot (hard to do with the Striker's recoil) and a...dog person? Anyway, subtlety isn't his strong suit (unlike a certain Ravanor clan infiltrator). It's not a problem for now, though probably needs a talk before any stealth mission.
A slam dunk pick from just his profile. Tech, biotics and experience in turian spec ops; what more can SRN ask for? Actually, Kysar doesn't feel like the most reliable team player. While some (like Janiri) are willing to help injured resistance personnel, this turian is content to lounge in the shade. When he isn't catching his beauty sleep, he seems to be lurking just beyond eyesight. Suspicious.
Asari commandos are legendary, however, this one is almost disappointing. Appears as reserved and closed off as Solveig. While this isn't a issue in itself, Keslia hasn't earned nearly the level of trust as Sol. Must be maternal instincts to worry about her; this asari's clearly seen more combat than the other one, but what led to her current somber mental state? At the end of the day, it's not anyone's business to pry, as long as she performs on the battlefield.
Dead already? What a shame.
Inventory
CREDITS & VALUABLES◢ - 487 credits - Marriage ring - Grandmother's seashell necklace - SSV Stalingrad's red star patch
OUTFIT◢ - Alliance BDU without insignias - Interplanetary Combatives Academy hoodie - Sentry interface visor - Hahne-Kedar chest plate and greaves
CONSUMABLE◢ - First aid pack with medigel - Energy bars - Vodka in an opaque plastic bottle - Laxatives
ID & DOCUMENTS◢ - SRN issued datapad with team and mission info - Thessia Capital University's Galactic History Compendium - D'Quin Katora's complete collections - Several issues of Fornax
BAGS & CONTAINERS◢ - Ammo harness magnetically attached to chest plate - Magnetic multi-weapon holster - Hardened duffel bag w/ biometric lock - Space cow leather purse
I like in the background that Kaya shows a lot of humanity when it comes to his job when he is confronted with innocence, it makes him question his purpose for a moment.
He seems like a very noble character with good intentions, however jumping from protecting his colony to killing multiple reapers might be a big jump, especially with an alcohol habit.
Would like to know more about the appearance - any particular visual quirks for example.
More details regarding Kaya's appearance and his time during the reaper war would be appreciated.
Yeah, I really like this sheet. He's Krogan but you haven't shoved him into the stereotypical Krogan box. You actually layered up a lot of nice touches and added in some things there that were really poetic and beautiful. He feels and reads differently to your other ME characters and I like that. It's nice to switch things up.
What I get about Karnoc is that he's very observant of behaviours around him and how that then reflects on him, and more aptly, his species as a whole. He tries to take these positive traits and apply them instead of hating on other races for them. That's really interesting.
Overall, this is a solid character, it's very serious but you've added light notes to him as well as some plain humorous ones. I like that. Just a thoughtful piece of work as always. I think Karnoc will actually be Sol's first friend.
Wow, our poor vanguard really went through the wringer. You've shown very clearly that Sigma is a survivor, from appearance to mentality to his flaws. He's a great example of how the average kid, the average soldier and the average experiment often gets left out in the grander schemes of the galaxy.
His aesthetics tie in well with his background, and his flaws are quite appropriate given his experiences. In addition, Sigma is going to be a valuable member of the team as a vanguard.
We just need to see a little more in Sigma's outlook and background. How did his biotic skills evolve during his career? What's his take on the wider galaxy while working for Eclipse? Any thoughts of his father, now he's back on Earth?
It is cool to see the combination of asari and turian values explored through Lia's background. The dynamics between species is often talked about in the games, but not often presented through a personal lens like you did here. Her evolution, growth and gradual emotional decay make Lia's history a compelling read.
Lia nicely embodies what an asari commando would be in the current situation. Although she's on the winning side, what people would assume as a successful career weighs heavily on her psyche. At the end of the day, you've made it eveident she just wants to go home. It'll be fun to see how she interacts with the rest of us.
An asari with no biotic skills is rare and super fascinating. Add in the ardat-yakshi spectrum, and you've got something truly unique. What makes Jan amazing is not only the novelty, but a relatable story and well-developed personality.
Her experiences with isolation and online social interaction are especially relevant given the current OOC world. IC-wise, her tech-focused sentinel skills will absolutely come in handy. The inclusion of a farm net as the submission net power is ingenious. Well done!
Kysar's childhood, training, imprisonment and military service all shaped him in unique ways. His outlook is a very realistic blend of pragmatism and idealism; honoring tradition and family yet unafraid to take out whatever's in his way. The surprise twists make Kybar's story an exciting read.
Having to report to Invectus will surely give Kysar some interesting objectives. It'll be fun to see how he balances his comradery among our group with his commitments to the turian command. His loyalty mission should be a blast!
Ah, sweet cousin Sol. What a cool way to integrate astrology and tarot themes into her background; truly a standout part of her sheet. Solveig's mommy issues are a pivotal part of her struggles, which is balanced nicely from the spirituality provided by her father. She pulls off the lone wolf infiltrator with a lot of humanity, while avoiding the cliche of edgy sociopaths.
Looks like this infiltrator isn't afraid to strong-arm her through things. Her introspective and analytical personality doesn't just create complex social interactions, but also gives her unique advantages and disadvantages in battle.
The conflict is real with this one. Not only is he scarred by Cerberus' "upgrades", but his insecurities and lack of belonging also make for compelling flaws. You've made an intriguing ex-Cerberus character and an engineer with valuable skills to the team.
However, we believe Oslo's story can be better expanded in areas such as his indoctrination and implants. Him being a cyborg may also be slightly difficult given the potential damage from the crucible, and hiding his true nature can be awkward when working with the rest of the cast.
Tamás is very much a motivated individual. You did a good job shining light on what's behind his motivations. His background has strong ties to galactic events. His skills and weaknesses match up perfectly with his work and trauma.
While Tamás' sheet is excellent overall, his appearance can be more detailed. He has a precise direction for what needs to be done, though this direction can be singular and might not fit with the rest of the group.