Smike

~ Andromeda - Know no bounds ~

Cold. All she could feel was cold. Surrounded on three sides by the ice that had been keeping her alive for 700 years, the temperature was unbearably low. Without any input from her concious the animal part of Reti's brain recoiled violently at the notion of dying in whatever glacial prison she was currently held. Sharp cracking sounds made her ears twitch in discomfort as the thin layer of frost coating her naked body shattered and fell off like skin being shed from some groggy reptile. Almost as soon as her head was thrown forward it came to a stop, halted by the icy glass door of the cryo pod. Now she was panicking, breath fogging the glass as she began to hyperventilate. She could see various figures outside the frost glass, wandering around and checking instrument panels and talking. She had no idea who they were, no idea why they had decided to trap her. All she could think about was how awfully thin the air was getting.

With a grunt Dr. Kaatis pulled back her robotic right hand, synthetic fibers coiling up and launching titanium knuckles at the pane imprisoning her. The blow was nowhere near as strong as she hoped, the tendons having locked up due to exposure to the cold. She tried again, the next blow coming a little faster. The metaphorical (and maybe literal) rust was being shaken off, the third strike hitting hard enough to form a hairline fracture. Now she was getting somewhere, but she could feel the air getting thinner. She was running out of time! Reti redoubled her efforts, pounding against the glass with all her might. The enhanced strength of her arm was returning, hairline fractures growing into proper spiderwebs of cracks. A weak scratchy grumble coming from her fellow pod passenger on her stomach made her look down, Reti scratching under Little Kat's jaw. "Don't worry little buddy." She whispered, trying to sound calmer than she actually was. "Mama's gonna get us out of here."

But the captors had taken notice of the rapidly increasing damage coming from the inside of the pod, one of them rushing over and tapping at the control panel. The door to the pod popped open with a hiss, Reti and Little Kat stumbling out thanks to the moment of her swing already in progress. The Lorin bared her sharp teeth and took a step towards the human who had just released her, already winding back another punch. She might have been shorter than the man but she could almost guarantee her right hook was stronger. And he seemed to know it, shrinking back from all five feet of panicked red flesh. Now she was out of that tomb of metal and ice and in front of one of the people responsible for putting her in it she could get some answers. She would have to calm and methodical, carefully ensuring she choose the right words...

"Where am I?!"

Or she could scream three words like a monosyllabic Neanderthal, that was an option too. The modern cave woman looked absolutely frantic, her hair hanging down over her face in a messy black curtain as she hissed her inquiry. "Oh Jesus, fuck you're on the Monolith! You just got out of 700 years of cryosleep, calm down please!"

700 hundred years? Did he think she was stupid? That was the dumbest lie she had ever heard. She knew she shouldn't have been encased in icce, the last thing she remembered was-

The last thing she remembered was whispering good night to her lizard-cat as she carried him into the pod. She had really spent the last 7 centuries in stasis. "Oh. Sorry for the panic then." she said calmly, the shift in tone as sudden as flicking a switch. The good doctor whistled sharply for her pet to follow her, moving onto the checklist of problems. Problem number one was that she was naked. That was easily rectified, Reti making her way through the crowd of techs and recently awoken passengers to her storage locker. The small mirror she had attacked to the inside of it allowed her to see what she was doing as she tied tiny silver charms to her hair, scooping the mass back and tying it off with her scarf. The next article of clothing was her holster, Reti cinching it around her waist and tucking away her revolver before slipping on her robes. She didn't bother to put on shoes, preferring to be barefoot whenever possible.

Problem number two was the withdrawal. 700 hundred years was a long time for her to go without any of her stims and she was feeling the effects after waking up. She was dehydrated, throat parched and mouth unable to produce saliva. Her heart rate was unnaturally slow, especially for her, and her whole body seemed to ache. Even if she wasn't more or less addicted any competent doctor could recognize the symptoms of stim withdrawal. Luckily for her the solution was on hand. A handful of caffeine pills and an alertness patch on her stomach and she was already going back to "normal", heart rate spiking and the fog clearing from her head. A few more of those and she'd be back to two hours of sleep every couple of days. If she was lucky she'd even be able to cut that down. There was going to be a lot of work to do.

The third problem was her eye. The mechanical orb wasn't working, circuitry frozen over by the years on ice. The pill popping doctor carefully removed the thing from her eye, empty socket staring out at the world as she took out automated thermos from her belongings. The eye was dropped in and the container filled with water, a crimson finger flicking the dial up to boiling. As she waited for it to finish she listened to the briefing, taking it in silently. The news was bad, but not catastrophic. All it meant was she would have to work harder. The timer on her thermos dinged and she opened it, using her metal fingers to dig around the steaming water for her eye. Once it was retrieved it was just a matter of waiting for it to cool down before popping it back into her socket. The tiny hole in the back of the orb met with the thin needle connected to her brain, the two organs syncing up as her vision rebooted.

She was ready to go.

~ Andromeda - Know no bounds ~

Reti Kaatis

Name
Dr. Reti "Demoness" Kaatis

Species
Lorin

Age
64

Sexuality
Bisexual

Birth
She was born on the Homefleet freighter Alinus's Hope.

Appearance
Reti is red skinned (as are most Lorin) and proud of it, having picked the headscarf that keeps her oil black tresses decorated with silver charms out of her face because it matches her complexion. Six horns poke through and behind the locks, two diamond shaped ears laying flat against her head. They can serve as a general gauge of her mood, raising when she's excited and drooping when upset. The good doctor's face is decorated with a series of grey triangles, five dotting her brow and and one covering her chin. A final one takes up the space bewteen her eyes and runs down to just above her lips. Her left eye is a deeper shade of crimson than her skin, a catlike pupil flitting about from one point of interest to the other. The right eye is a startling contrast. Kaatis is afflicted with artificial heterochromia thanks to a violent accident that cost her an arm and half of her vision. The Replacement she was given was specially requested by her despite the fact it was made for a human. The same goes with her Cybernetic Arm, the appendage having an extra finger and is noticeably larger than the other but lacking the sharp one unique to Lorin.

When in the field Reti wears a privately purchased suit of Pathfinder Scout Armor instead of the standard issue suit, citing it's comfort, ease of movement and ample storage space. In normal environments she prefers a range of Traditional Clothes with an ornate Masked Outfit for ceremonies.

Underneath the clothing is a body sculpted by years of hunting, rough living on expeditions and exercise, her living arm and legs toned, the muscles of her back and abdomen well defined. Back when she was a younger woman with less artificial body parts a Ratian boyfriend told her she looked like "a little Demoness"and she kept the name.

Height
Five feet flat.

Personality
If someone holds two doctorates, has published multiple papers on subjects ranging from better ways to treat patients in need of critical care on inhospitable planets to the bone structure of species they discovered, they're allowed to have a little pride. Or at least that's what Reti says. Not coincidentally, she's done all that. Dr. Kaatis is more than a little proud of her accomplishments, hanging her degrees, copies of her published works and various awards and photos around her living quarters and explaining the story behind each and every one with a smile when asked. The fastest way to earn her approval is to ask questions and give compliments about her career history. The other side of the coin is that she's particularly susceptible to questions about the legitimacy of her credentials and claims. Those who insinuate that she stole work, slept her way into awards or otherwise didn't earn her position make her seethe with rage, all five feet of red skinned muscle trembling with righteous anger as she lays into them with firsthand data and stories she gained at the loss of free time, relationships, appendages and part of her sanity.

The reduction of that last one sometimes becomes very obvious if she's pushed, Reti reaching out with her cybernetic hand and lifting the naysayer by the throat. The artificial limb is more than strong enough to suspend a full grown human male in the air while she gesticulates wildly and gnashes her teeth, spitting vitriol filled arguments and curses until she gets an apology. This attitude extends into daily interactions. Reti is calm and welcoming until she feels slighted, and then responds with overwhelming force.

Even though she's a trauma surgeon and medic by training Dr. Kaatis's bedside manner is somewhat lacking. Likely a side affect of her own grievous injuries she had had to amputate, cauterize and bandage she regards all but the most life endangering of wounds as minor inconveniences at best, calmly coating them in disinfectant and setting removing pieces of shattered bone with the same amount of interest most people would show removing a splinter. Despite her nonchalant attitude she is still a talented doctor, having lost a total of ten patients during a decades long career spanning riots, crash landings, shootings, animal attacks and multi-vehicle collisions.

Even though she grew up hunting and still goes on expeditions Reti has a soft spot for animals of all kinds, treating them noticeably nicer than her humanoid patients. Her first concern is the safety of wildlife and keeping any suffering inflicted to a minimum, preferring to use corpse samples that were found dead whenever possible. When "premade" cadavers are unavailable the Lorin will prioritize shots to vital regions, even at the risk of specimen integrity being compromised.

Outside of animal and humanoid biology, Reti has a passion for movies and music from Earth before humanity really began to explore the stars, able to recall thousands of lines of dialogue and perform complicated riffs from memory. When not occupied with other work she can often be found in her quarters watching films and idly strumming away. Her favorite outdoor activities are trick shooting and racing all sorts of land vehicles. As a young girl Reti's father would set up targets in an empty storage unit on board their ship and have her blast away, forming an affection for firearms that has lasted her whole life.

The love for going as fast as possible in all manner of land-craft stems from her time with the Stargazer Cooperative, having to learn to operate all sorts of vehicles from little one seater "Blast" Bikes to full on armored half-tracks and walkers. Gunning down winding cliff side paths in old military surplus off-road vehicles and tearing across flat expanses of empty desert in dust coated ATVs instilled a craving for speed that has never wavered, not even after her near fatal accident.

At first glance it seems like there isn't enough available time in 64 years of life to gain so much knowledge and competence in so many fields. For most people that would be true, but Reti has a trick up her sleeve. Or rather, in her veins. Dr. Kaatis's tendency to indulge in stimulants of all kinds in order to maximize the amount of things she can do in a day is an open secret, consuming sugar, caffeine, legal narcotics (and illegal ones as well according to rumor) and even carefully processed gas from beam cartridges at a rate that would have killed a lesser person years ago in a mostly successful effort to stave off sleep. Her pupils are dilated more often than not, pulse so rapid it can be hard distinguish individual beats. When she's really overindulged symptoms include her skin being hot to the touch, sweat matting her hair, uncontrollable tapping of feet, running eye and nose, and extreme loss of appetite. If she refuses to eat or keep down food for more than four days, force feeding is recommended. Thanks to this incredible (some would say horrifying) regimen of keeping herself busy with work and ingesting a truly terrifying amount of stimulants Dr. Kaatis has managed to limit herself to an average of two or three hours of rest every two days, coming in the form of 5-20 minute power naps while sitting or standing.

Role
Kati is a woman of many talents, serving as a doctor, trauma surgeon, field medic, scout, designated marksmen, xeno-biologist and driver as needed.

Equipment
-Longview Trail Rifle: A modern update of a ancient human firearm the Longview fires super-heated beams of light at targets, capable of piercing through armor, cover and flesh. Its scope is capable of up to x25 magnification, controlled by a dial on the side.

-"Wandering Scholar" Plasma Pistol: This modified revolver a gift from Reti's father, custom made to be equal parts flashy and dependable. Patterned after the dependable Patterson Coil Revolver, the weapon was constructed of lightweight alloys designed for space craft and converted to fire much more powerful plasma slugs. It's lighter weight and slimmer profile means its much easier to quickdraw as well. Perfectly crafted to suit her preferences the Wandering Scholar is powerful enough to punch holes in stone and accurate enough to do so from 100 yards out. There is a trade off however. Firing the weapon causes excess gas to build up in the cylinder, eventually requiring a full drain. Under normal circumstances this isn't too much of a problem, enough gas being drained with each turn of the cylinder that the build up is manageable. But if the hammer is fanned too often, something Reti has been known to do in combat situations, the build up will reach critical levels. When this happens the guns will refuse to fire until it's been drained.

-Malus's Edge: Named after a Lorin folk hero this tomahawk is made of titanium with an edge coated in a thin layer of beam energy that can be be switched on and off. Useful for cutting through vegetation and people.

-Cybernetic Arm: A replacement limb capable of lifting 200 pounds with relative ease. It has a full range of motion and responds to it's owner's commands as if it were flesh and blood. Has a compartment for storing maintenance tools, writing utensils, and stims.

-Cybernetic Eye: A startling contrast from it angular biological sibling, this lab grown and circuitry enhanced implant is capable of x4 magnification and can switch between regular, night and thermal vision. It's also a recording device, storing up to 15 petabytes of video and audio information. The can be removed and used as a projector, displaying the data stored.

Pathfinder Scout Armor: Lightweight, durable and able to be sealed off from the outside world this armor is perfect for a scout traversing all manner of hostile terrain. Equipped with large pockets to hold all manner of equipment and compatible with extra armor plates, this set has been modfied to support an internal communications system, a covered data pad built into the arm, and grappling hook and 50 feet of steel cord.

-Mk.4 Seeker Drone: This drone is capable of serving as a lab assistant, spotter and an extra gun. Equipped with a variety of sensors and internal storage space the Seeker (nicknamed "Sekkie") can study and take samples in the field and is armed with twin coil submachine guns and reactive armor capable of surviving extended engagements. The most important feature is the steel cable attachment it can lower, able to be tied to a critically injured or endangered person to be taken back to the base camp. Using pulse propulsion technology Sekkie can reach top speeds of 70 miles an hour under optimal conditions.

-Hellspeed Drifter: A lightly armored all terrain bike capably of carrying two people, Dr. Kaatis uses this when scouting. The speed it gives her allows her to travel much father than she could on foot, having a powerful enough battery to travel for a week before needing to be recharged on the Monolith. In dire situations the bike can be fitted with a tri barreled heavy coilgun, but it rarely is.
Miscellaneous Equipment
-Electric Guitar
-Notepads and colored pencils
-Private stock of black coffee
-Private stock of Bushy Tail brand alertness patches
-Prescription narcolepsy medication
-Various brands of caffeine pills
-Male Kaatis Lizard-Cat named "Little Kat"
-Variety of tools for working on her bike and drone
-Antique Rolex watch

Previous Branch
-Homefleet Medical Officer (8 years)
-Kell University Research Team (10 years)
-Stargazer Cooperative (13 years)
-XEF Team Scout (10 years)

Biography
Reti Kaatis was born to Maleos and Targara Kaatis onboard the feighter Alinus's Hope, the youngest of three children. Her father Kaelos was a xeno-botanist and her mother Targara a doctor, the pair having meant while they were both working on a project to harness different forms of alien plant life for medical purposes. From an early age little Reti was taught the value of self-sufficiency, being left to make a new batch of food for herself after her older, faster siblings snatched the first meal. It was a habit that would stay with her even when she was old enough to keep up, avoiding the mad dash to the kitchen in favor of waiting for a quiet space to cook a meal all for her. Reti was homeschooled like the rest of her siblings, being given a solid grounding in mathematics, science, literature, Lorin history and basic mechanics, soaking information up like a sponge. She easily excelled on the tests the Homefleet Council required all home schooled take, finishing exams that should have taken three hours in less than half the time and receiving top marks.

When she turned ten her father took her on a weak long hunting trip to the jungle planet of Arin's Folly, showing her how to construct a hide, how to maintain and clean firearms, how to strip and field dress a kill. She picked it all up with ease, as she always did, but the biggest lesson she learned was the inherent beauty of wildlife. The way that the herds of six legged Adam's Buffalo would circle protectively around their sick and weak, the rainbow colored light reflecting off the scales of a Kretch Serpent slithering through the undergrowth, the throaty warbling of Skrellcats in heat, all of these signs of a living, breathing universe would appear in her dreams for months after the trip.

Reti would beg her father to take her on more trips every chance she got, spending her time onboard the Hope poring through periodicals on Xeno-Biology and practicing her trick shooting in an empty corner of the ship. By the time she was sixteen she was had finished all the Homefleet required coursework and was planning to continue her education at Krell Spaceport's prestigious university, studying her parents fields. She was accepted on a full ride. Medicine was interesting but Xeno-Botany turned out to be incredibly boring, not stimulating her excitement or curiosity in the least. Less than a year in she switched to Xeno-Biology, a field that she found much more up her alley.

The average length of time to complete a doctorate program after the four years of undergraduate studies at Skell University was 6 years. Thanks to her stunning scores and the couple of papers she had already publishhed Reti was considered already capable to enter the doctor's program. She completed 2 PhDs in 4 years, becoming Dr. Kaatis at the age of 20, worn and haggard after the worst four years of her life. The difficulty of the course work hadn't been a problem, but the sheer amount of it. Working 14 hour days on research papers and dissertations the young woman quickly turned to stimulants and sacrificed free time and relationships in her drive to impress her parents and herself. She succeeded at the cost of her mental health, her psyche permanently cracked. She was going to prove herself to be the top scientist in the UGC no matter the cost!

And she set out to do just that, taking up a variety of positions that would allow her to gain as much knowledge as possible. 8 years as a medical officer in the Homefleet taught her how to reduce inefficiencies in patient intake and how to create a better system of storage for anesthetics and artificial organs. 10 years working for her alma mater as a member of a research team credited her with the discovery of multiple animal species, earning her a medal from the UGC council and and ceremony congratulating her in the Homefleet.

She began to slow down when the Stargazer Cooperative tapped her for a long term residency in their newly established commune on Farhome IV. The serene plains and laid back atmosphere seemed to have a calming affect on her, her drug intake tapering off and her constant need to do something mellowing out. She even found a boyfriend, one Heskal Pelfir. He taught her to handle the different vehicles the commune had on hand, the pair heading out on multiple day long drives. They would scream across salt lakes and down hills, pushing the engine of every vehicle to its limits.

Predictably it ended in disaster. During one of those brutal endurance runs their jeep hit a bump at 80 miles an hour and left the ground, dropping into a small ravine. Heskal miraculously survived with only a few fractured ribs and a concussion. Reti's injuries were much more serious, having been thrown through the windshield and then dragged under the car. A shard of glass eviscerated her eye, more than a ton of hot metal crushing her arm and nearly tearing it off her body. Half blinded and with her limb hanging on by a few threads of bloody bone shards and stringy sinew Reti had to roll down into the ravine, drag herself to the smashed up jeep and dig around for her tomahawk before hacking through the tendons of her arm at the shoulder and removing her lacerated eye, cauterizing her stump and empty eye socket with the beam of her blade.

Needless to say, it was a painful experience. The accident didn't dissuade Reti from wanting to go fast but it did push her away from her fellow Stargazers. Within a months time she had broken up with Heskal and headed offworld for a job with the Xeno Expeditionary Force. In exchange for her medical and biological expertise she was given scout and marksmen training as a cybernetics to replace what she had lost. For reasons known only to hear Dr. Kaatis requested an eye and arm made for humans, round pupil and bulging synthetic muscles fibers contrasting with her remaining crimson cat eye and her toned frame.

Reti served in the XEF with distinction, attracting the attention of the Andromeda Program. When offered a position she jumped at it, citing a "need to move on already."

Affiliations
-Kaelos Kaatis (Father)
-Targara Kaatis (Mother)
-Min Kaatis (Brother)
-Xul Kaatis (Sister)
-Frank Kaatis (Brother, Adopted)
- Heskal Pelfir (Amicable Ex)

Relationships [Optional]
TBD

Character Theme
TBD

Smike's Sheets

Reti

Name
Dr. Reti "Demoness" Kaatis

Species
Lorin

Age
64

Sexuality
Bisexual

Birth
She was born on the Homefleet freighter Alinus's Hope.

Appearance
Reti is red skinned (as are most Lorin) and proud of it, having picked the headscarf that keeps her oil black tresses decorated with silver charms out of her face because it matches her complexion. Six horns poke through and behind the locks, two diamond shaped ears laying flat against her head. They can serve as a general gauge of her mood, raising when she's excited and drooping when upset. The good doctor's face is decorated with a series of grey triangles, five dotting her brow and and one covering her chin. A final one takes up the space bewteen her eyes and runs down to just above her lips. Her left eye is a deeper shade of crimson than her skin, a catlike pupil flitting about from one point of interest to the other. The right eye is a startling contrast. Kaatis is afflicted with artificial heterochromia thanks to a violent accident that cost her an arm and half of her vision. The Replacement she was given was specially requested by her despite the fact it was made for a human. The same goes with her Cybernetic Arm, the appendage having an extra finger and is noticeably larger than the other but lacking the sharp one unique to Lorin.

When in the field Reti wears a privately purchased suit of Pathfinder Scout Armor instead of the standard issue suit, citing it's comfort, ease of movement and ample storage space. In normal environments she prefers a range of Traditional Clothes with an ornate Masked Outfit for ceremonies.

Underneath the clothing is a body sculpted by years of hunting, rough living on expeditions and exercise, her living arm and legs toned, the muscles of her back and abdomen well defined. Back when she was a younger woman with less artificial body parts a Ratian boyfriend told her she looked like "a little Demoness"and she kept the name.

Height
Five feet flat.

Personality
If someone holds two doctorates, has published multiple papers on subjects ranging from better ways to treat patients in need of critical care on inhospitable planets to the bone structure of species they discovered, they're allowed to have a little pride. Or at least that's what Reti says. Not coincidentally, she's done all that. Dr. Kaatis is more than a little proud of her accomplishments, hanging her degrees, copies of her published works and various awards and photos around her living quarters and explaining the story behind each and every one with a smile when asked. The fastest way to earn her approval is to ask questions and give compliments about her career history. The other side of the coin is that she's particularly susceptible to questions about the legitimacy of her credentials and claims. Those who insinuate that she stole work, slept her way into awards or otherwise didn't earn her position make her seethe with rage, all five feet of red skinned muscle trembling with righteous anger as she lays into them with firsthand data and stories she gained at the loss of free time, relationships, appendages and part of her sanity.

The reduction of that last one sometimes becomes very obvious if she's pushed, Reti reaching out with her cybernetic hand and lifting the naysayer by the throat. The artificial limb is more than strong enough to suspend a full grown human male in the air while she gesticulates wildly and gnashes her teeth, spitting vitriol filled arguments and curses until she gets an apology. This attitude extends into daily interactions. Reti is calm and welcoming until she feels slighted, and then responds with overwhelming force.

Even though she's a trauma surgeon and medic by training Dr. Kaatis's bedside manner is somewhat lacking. Likely a side affect of her own grievous injuries she had had to amputate, cauterize and bandage she regards all but the most life endangering of wounds as minor inconveniences at best, calmly coating them in disinfectant and setting removing pieces of shattered bone with the same amount of interest most people would show removing a splinter. Despite her nonchalant attitude she is still a talented doctor, having lost a total of ten patients during a decades long career spanning riots, crash landings, shootings, animal attacks and multi-vehicle collisions.

Even though she grew up hunting and still goes on expeditions Reti has a soft spot for animals of all kinds, treating them noticeably nicer than her humanoid patients. Her first concern is the safety of wildlife and keeping any suffering inflicted to a minimum, preferring to use corpse samples that were found dead whenever possible. When "premade" cadavers are unavailable the Lorin will prioritize shots to vital regions, even at the risk of specimen integrity being compromised.

Outside of animal and humanoid biology, Reti has a passion for movies and music from Earth before humanity really began to explore the stars, able to recall thousands of lines of dialogue and perform complicated riffs from memory. When not occupied with other work she can often be found in her quarters watching films and idly strumming away. Her favorite outdoor activities are trick shooting and racing all sorts of land vehicles. As a young girl Reti's father would set up targets in an empty storage unit on board their ship and have her blast away, forming an affection for firearms that has lasted her whole life.

The love for going as fast as possible in all manner of land-craft stems from her time with the Stargazer Cooperative, having to learn to operate all sorts of vehicles from little one seater "Blast" Bikes to full on armored half-tracks and walkers. Gunning down winding cliff side paths in old military surplus off-road vehicles and tearing across flat expanses of empty desert in dust coated ATVs instilled a craving for speed that has never wavered, not even after her near fatal accident.

At first glance it seems like there isn't enough available time in 64 years of life to gain so much knowledge and competence in so many fields. For most people that would be true, but Reti has a trick up her sleeve. Or rather, in her veins. Dr. Kaatis's tendency to indulge in stimulants of all kinds in order to maximize the amount of things she can do in a day is an open secret, consuming sugar, caffeine, legal narcotics (and illegal ones as well according to rumor) and even carefully processed gas from beam cartridges at a rate that would have killed a lesser person years ago in a mostly successful effort to stave off sleep. Her pupils are dilated more often than not, pulse so rapid it can be hard distinguish individual beats. When she's really overindulged symptoms include her skin being hot to the touch, sweat matting her hair, uncontrollable tapping of feet, running eye and nose, and extreme loss of appetite. If she refuses to eat or keep down food for more than four days, force feeding is recommended. Thanks to this incredible (some would say horrifying) regimen of keeping herself busy with work and ingesting a truly terrifying amount of stimulants Dr. Kaatis has managed to limit herself to an average of two or three hours of rest every two days, coming in the form of 5-20 minute power naps while sitting or standing.

Role
Kati is a woman of many talents, serving as a doctor, trauma surgeon, field medic, scout, designated marksmen, xeno-biologist and driver as needed.

Equipment
-Longview Trail Rifle: A modern update of a ancient human firearm the Longview fires super-heated beams of light at targets, capable of piercing through armor, cover and flesh. Its scope is capable of up to x25 magnification, controlled by a dial on the side.

-"Wandering Scholar" Plasma Pistol: This modified revolver a gift from Reti's father, custom made to be equal parts flashy and dependable. Patterned after the dependable Patterson Coil Revolver, the weapon was constructed of lightweight alloys designed for space craft and converted to fire much more powerful plasma slugs. It's lighter weight and slimmer profile means its much easier to quickdraw as well. Perfectly crafted to suit her preferences the Wandering Scholar is powerful enough to punch holes in stone and accurate enough to do so from 100 yards out. There is a trade off however. Firing the weapon causes excess gas to build up in the cylinder, eventually requiring a full drain. Under normal circumstances this isn't too much of a problem, enough gas being drained with each turn of the cylinder that the build up is manageable. But if the hammer is fanned too often, something Reti has been known to do in combat situations, the build up will reach critical levels. When this happens the guns will refuse to fire until it's been drained.

-Malus's Edge: Named after a Lorin folk hero this tomahawk is made of titanium with an edge coated in a thin layer of beam energy that can be be switched on and off. Useful for cutting through vegetation and people.

-Cybernetic Arm: A replacement limb capable of lifting 200 pounds with relative ease. It has a full range of motion and responds to it's owner's commands as if it were flesh and blood. Has a compartment for storing maintenance tools, writing utensils, and stims.

-Cybernetic Eye: A startling contrast from it angular biological sibling, this lab grown and circuitry enhanced implant is capable of x4 magnification and can switch between regular, night and thermal vision. It's also a recording device, storing up to 15 petabytes of video and audio information. The can be removed and used as a projector, displaying the data stored.

Pathfinder Scout Armor: Lightweight, durable and able to be sealed off from the outside world this armor is perfect for a scout traversing all manner of hostile terrain. Equipped with large pockets to hold all manner of equipment and compatible with extra armor plates, this set has been modfied to support an internal communications system, a covered data pad built into the arm, and grappling hook and 50 feet of steel cord.

-Mk.4 Seeker Drone: This drone is capable of serving as a lab assistant, spotter and an extra gun. Equipped with a variety of sensors and internal storage space the Seeker (nicknamed "Sekkie") can study and take samples in the field and is armed with twin coil submachine guns and reactive armor capable of surviving extended engagements. The most important feature is the steel cable attachment it can lower, able to be tied to a critically injured or endangered person to be taken back to the base camp. Using pulse propulsion technology Sekkie can reach top speeds of 70 miles an hour under optimal conditions.

-Hellspeed Drifter: A lightly armored all terrain bike capably of carrying two people, Dr. Kaatis uses this when scouting. The speed it gives her allows her to travel much father than she could on foot, having a powerful enough battery to travel for a week before needing to be recharged on the Monolith. In dire situations the bike can be fitted with a tri barreled heavy coilgun, but it rarely is.
Miscellaneous Equipment
-Electric Guitar
-Notepads and colored pencils
-Private stock of black coffee
-Private stock of Bushy Tail brand alertness patches
-Prescription narcolepsy medication
-Various brands of caffeine pills
-Male Kaatis Lizard-Cat named "Little Kat"
-Variety of tools for working on her bike and drone
-Antique Rolex watch

Previous Branch
-Homefleet Medical Officer (8 years)
-Kell University Research Team (10 years)
-Stargazer Cooperative (13 years)
-XEF Team Scout (10 years)

Biography
Reti Kaatis was born to Maleos and Targara Kaatis onboard the feighter Alinus's Hope, the youngest of three children. Her father Kaelos was a xeno-botanist and her mother Targara a doctor, the pair having meant while they were both working on a project to harness different forms of alien plant life for medical purposes. From an early age little Reti was taught the value of self-sufficiency, being left to make a new batch of food for herself after her older, faster siblings snatched the first meal. It was a habit that would stay with her even when she was old enough to keep up, avoiding the mad dash to the kitchen in favor of waiting for a quiet space to cook a meal all for her. Reti was homeschooled like the rest of her siblings, being given a solid grounding in mathematics, science, literature, Lorin history and basic mechanics, soaking information up like a sponge. She easily excelled on the tests the Homefleet Council required all home schooled take, finishing exams that should have taken three hours in less than half the time and receiving top marks.

When she turned ten her father took her on a weak long hunting trip to the jungle planet of Arin's Folly, showing her how to construct a hide, how to maintain and clean firearms, how to strip and field dress a kill. She picked it all up with ease, as she always did, but the biggest lesson she learned was the inherent beauty of wildlife. The way that the herds of six legged Adam's Buffalo would circle protectively around their sick and weak, the rainbow colored light reflecting off the scales of a Kretch Serpent slithering through the undergrowth, the throaty warbling of Skrellcats in heat, all of these signs of a living, breathing universe would appear in her dreams for months after the trip.

Reti would beg her father to take her on more trips every chance she got, spending her time onboard the Hope poring through periodicals on Xeno-Biology and practicing her trick shooting in an empty corner of the ship. By the time she was sixteen she was had finished all the Homefleet required coursework and was planning to continue her education at Krell Spaceport's prestigious university, studying her parents fields. She was accepted on a full ride. Medicine was interesting but Xeno-Botany turned out to be incredibly boring, not stimulating her excitement or curiosity in the least. Less than a year in she switched to Xeno-Biology, a field that she found much more up her alley.

The average length of time to complete a doctorate program after the four years of undergraduate studies at Skell University was 6 years. Thanks to her stunning scores and the couple of papers she had already publishhed Reti was considered already capable to enter the doctor's program. She completed 2 PhDs in 4 years, becoming Dr. Kaatis at the age of 20, worn and haggard after the worst four years of her life. The difficulty of the course work hadn't been a problem, but the sheer amount of it. Working 14 hour days on research papers and dissertations the young woman quickly turned to stimulants and sacrificed free time and relationships in her drive to impress her parents and herself. She succeeded at the cost of her mental health, her psyche permanently cracked. She was going to prove herself to be the top scientist in the UGC no matter the cost!

And she set out to do just that, taking up a variety of positions that would allow her to gain as much knowledge as possible. 8 years as a medical officer in the Homefleet taught her how to reduce inefficiencies in patient intake and how to create a better system of storage for anesthetics and artificial organs. 10 years working for her alma mater as a member of a research team credited her with the discovery of multiple animal species, earning her a medal from the UGC council and and ceremony congratulating her in the Homefleet.

She began to slow down when the Stargazer Cooperative tapped her for a long term residency in their newly established commune on Farhome IV. The serene plains and laid back atmosphere seemed to have a calming affect on her, her drug intake tapering off and her constant need to do something mellowing out. She even found a boyfriend, one Heskal Pelfir. He taught her to handle the different vehicles the commune had on hand, the pair heading out on multiple day long drives. They would scream across salt lakes and down hills, pushing the engine of every vehicle to its limits.

Predictably it ended in disaster. During one of those brutal endurance runs their jeep hit a bump at 80 miles an hour and left the ground, dropping into a small ravine. Lars miraculously survived with only a few fractured ribs and a concussion. Reti's injuries were much more serious, having been thrown through the windshield and then dragged under the car. A shard of glass eviscerated her eye, more than a ton of hot metal crushing her arm and nearly tearing it off her body. Half blinded and with her limb hanging on by a few threads of bloody bone shards and stringy sinew Reti had to roll down into the ravine, drag herself to the smashed up jeep and dig around for her tomahawk before hacking through the tendons of her arm at the shoulder and removing her lacerated eye, cauterizing her stump and empty eye socket with the beam of her blade.

Needless to say, it was a painful experience. The accident didn't dissuade Reti from wanting to go fast but it did push her away from her fellow Stargazers. Within a months time she had broken up with Heskal and headed offworld for a job with the Xeno Expeditionary Force. In exchange for her medical and biological expertise she was given scout and marksmen training as a cybernetics to replace what she had lost. For reasons known only to hear Dr. Kaatis requested an eye and arm made for humans, round pupil and bulging synthetic muscles fibers contrasting with her remaining crimson cat eye and her toned frame.

Reti served in the XEF with distinction, attracting the attention of the Andromeda Program. When offered a position she jumped at it, citing a "need to move on already."

Affiliations
-Kaelos Kaatis (Father)
-Targara Kaatis (Mother)
-Min Kaatis (Brother)
-Xul Kaatis (Sister)
-Frank Kaatis (Brother, Adopted)
- Heskal Pelfir (Amicable Ex)

Relationships [Optional]
TBD

Character Theme
TBD

Andromeda: Know no bounds - A Sci-Fi character narrative!

Interest tag

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard ~

Victoria had kept quiet as the scouting party crept through the wasteland that had been Amone, hunching over subconsciously as if to press her tall form as close to the ground as possible, fighting the urge to crawl through the dust and grit like the rat who's skull decorated her hat. The destruction caused by the distant artillery fire was awesome in the literal sense of the word, instilling a sense of breathtaking fear and apprehension towards the engines of misery that could end scores of lives in a single explosive burst from far out of view. She respected them, what they represented: power. Power through force, power that could extend itself to reach thousands of yards away. No one was above them. You either paid the respects they were due or they took your life. Simple as that. Just like back, the strong took what they wanted.

She knew of course just how monstrous it was to respected those engines of violent death, knew it was a symptom of deep troubles. But she was in no position to complain. That same repulsive glee at the thought of violence that had plagued her three years ago was thriving in this awful environment, flourishing in the bombed out rubble. The Rat was taking control just as it had in the fight at the party, the same force that made her gouge out a girl's throat and crush a man's skull into mulch with her rifle keeping her keen and wary. Rats cared only for their own survival and that was her only goal for the time being: survive to see Elizabeth again.

So the Rat kept going, her usual smirk drawn into a tight lip grimace that made her ugly scar stretch tight across her face. She didn't say a word, simply checking the remains of buildings when instructed with a workman like efficiency. Smoothly she'd wheel through each room, checking corners and opening closets with her bayonet, all the while scooping loose change and trinkets of varying worth into her pockets and bag with hardly a thought. Whoever had owned them before wasn't around to ask her to stop. Every now and again the though of looting one of those towers would cross her mind, tempting her with visions of gilded religious iconography relics of saints. But even she wasn't so greedy that her common sense was dulled. Those were the most likely places for a area denial booby trap, a grenade rigged to go off or a knife attacked to a makeshift crossbow, hell even a rifle with a string around the trigger attached to the door.

So Vicky just waited for the Darcian leader to give his next order, picking under her nails with her bayonet as he considered whatever it was officers considered and snapping to attention why she was addressed. The only answer Jean got was a thumbs up in response, creeping in with a silent snarl etched on her face, fully loaded and ready to kill. So it was a bit of a letdown when all that was in there were crates of ammo for the sandbagged guns and a few opened tins of food. Oh well. She continued up the stairs to the second floor, taking a moment to eye her squad through the window before taking a lazy look through the cabinets and end tables. Torn open envelopes, bits of a journal, scraps of cheesy love poems written by a truly artless Imperial soldier, nothing of value or interest.

Until she kicked at sloppily wrapped bedroll, dislodging a few dead cigarettes and a sheaf of papers written in Europan Common. The Rat moved to dismiss them offhand at the apparent lack of value but stopped cold as the words IMPERIAL DEFENSE PLAN jumped out a her. Curiosity now aroused Victoria squatted down on her powerful haunches and leafed through the sheets, brown eyes widening as she read. She was looking at the Empire's final desperate solution to hold Amone, reading a map depicting a tightly focused line of defence running through the Cathedral. It called for troops to be relocated, ammo and food and medicine to be stockpiled, new equipment to be issued all in the name of making themselves as hard as possible to dislodge. There were would be no rout, no falling back to regroup. The Imperial Army would have to be beaten to death and dragged out of their trench, driven from their defences and into the maw of the Federation war machine with bullets and bombs and blades. It was going to be costly for both sides no matter who managed to hold out longer. "Fine then cunts." She thought to herself with a grin. "Let's see how long you hold up."

She might've just earned herself a medal, or a promotion! That would be fun, a set of stripes on her sleeve to rub in Luke's face. Private white was gone, Corporal White was here to stay. Chuckling at her delusions of grandeur Vicky put the plans back in their folder and tramped downstairs, ready to show off her find when she heard the scream. Immediately the Rat kicked into action taking cover in the stairwell and clutching her carbine, waiting for any follow up sounds with her finger on the trigger. Let them come, let them come, let come!" she repeated to herself, getting herself ready to draw blood by way of repeated mantra. But nothing came, Victoria calming down after a minute or so and walking out into the rain. Heavy drops of water pitter-pattered against her hat and rolled off her canvas cape, the Oceanic stepping towards Luke and Jean. Before she could reach the tram car the Francian had gotten to it, reacting in horror to unseen threat. She sprinted towards him with rifle in hand, boots leaving prints in the mud and dust as she skidded to a stop next to him.

She had been expecting to see an Imperial ambush of some kind, not corpses. She breathed a sigh of relief, a wan smile on her face. While the Rat had been craving action Vicky didn't exactly want to trade bullets if she could avoid. So the sight of bodies was welcome to her. The smell much less so. She was reminded of when the ranchers would burn their infected livestock, the charred flesh left to rot in a pit and stinking up the air. Her mother had once told her that meat was best when it was falling off the bone. By that standard the soldiers and civilians down the street were positively delicious. More roasted corpses choked the path, a feast for maggots and crows and a source of confusion for Victoria. Had they been doused with gasoline before being set ablaze? But why waste the time and effort? Was this just a show of power, or a test of some new weapon.

She turned to asked Jean what he thought but decided against it when he collapsed, inquires about his health dying in her throat as he vomited. Instead of asking if he was okay she simply pursed her lips and dropped her canteen next to him, the offer of clean water there if needed it. Once again she was having second thoughts about her squad leader. Was he going to break down every time he saw something horrific? They would never get anything done if every few blocks he started puking his guts out. The Rat wanted to drag him up by the arms and slap some sense into him, beat every last ounce of cowardice out of his system until he was a competent leader. But she did no such thing, simply spitting on the ground in disgust and continuing onward when instructed.

The Gallian regiment proved to be of some interested, Vicky digging through pockets until she found a medal to compare to the one she had stolen during the gas attack. Just as she had thought, it was a Gallian decoration of some kind. The new award was placed in her pocket next to its older counterpart, the clinking of metal drowned out by the sudden sound of a shell arcing towards the camp. "Fuck!"

The explosion had been big, big enough to be felt all this way from the camp. They were really stepping up their game. But there was no time to consider that, not when a bullet caused some stray Ragnite to explode in a burst of flame and shrapnel. Instinctively she threw her cape up to protect herself from the searing heat as she dropped to the floor, dragging herself behind a pile of rubble and looking around to take stock of the situation.

Marathon was fucked. His leg had been suddenly and violently separated from his body, the limb lying in a pool of blood away from it's owner. All she could do was go pale in the face and tremble violently, a thumb jerking towards the rough location of the shooter. She simultaneously wanted to curl into a ball and cry and rush the shooter so she could tear them limb from limb, white hot rage clashing with fear. Rage won out, listening to Luke's plan through a haze of a screaming need for revenge. Her first thought was drag Thomas back into cover but the fucking sniper would be expecting that. Luke's plan was a good one, but she wasn't waiting for their piece of shit officer to find his balls and answer.

She was going to get shit done.

With a roar of pure hatred the Rat exploded from behind their cover, using the natural gift of speed she had honed in back alley brawls and dusty footraces to propel herself past Thomas and his leg, past Jean and his weakness, past Luke and his mommy issues and towards the field gun. She screamed as she fired wildly at the tower, three shots burying themselves in the stone, challenging the Imperial bastard up there to take her out she blasted them directly to Hell. She was sailing across loose cobblestones and lead bullets, graceful in the way a rampaging tiger was, or an avenging angel dragging sinners down to eternal torment. Grace and fury melded into a single form...

Until she slipped and smacked directly into the gun, splitting her forehead. The Oceanic killer swore violently as pain flashed through her skull and blood matted the strands of hair hanging across her face, forcing herself up from the ground and checking to see if it was loaded. It was, she was clear to start dragging the barrel of the gun into position. With a groan of rusted metal from the cannon and grunt of exertion from Vicky the barrel began to turn, the Rat focused on blowing the tower to high hell. Luke could come over there and help or stay there and confer with the piece of shit officer, it mattered little to her.

@LetMeDoStuff @Jacky

Born to Fight: Bounty Hunters

Callsign:Void
Adrift in Space

Four days. She had been cooped up in the cockpit of her ship for four days. Four days spent chewing on tasteless rations and tracing shapes with her claws in the dust that gathered on the craft's dashboard, alternating between napping and watching bootleg recordings of ancient movies and shows on her HUD. There was nothing else she could do. The ship's course had been locked in and she would only need to take the reins from the AI running things if someone pursued her. That was unlikely, no one was coming out this way. Void had skipped the gates needed for the jump to hyperspace because that's where they'd be looking for her. Lovos and their hired dogs, the bounty hunters and mercenaries they had on retainer. Fuck, there could even be elite Retrieval Teams waiting for her at every gate! The bioweapon had been assigned to work with them on occasion, enough to know that she never wanted to be on the opposite side of the field.
So the only way to go was through the emptiness of open space, the thrusts killed to save fuel. All the engine was doing was providing heat to the cockpit, the momentum from earlier travel gently pushing the Strfye along at a slow and steady pace. Nothing around her except the stars and long dead satellites that occasionally interrupted the upbeat, frenetic music piping through the high quality speakers she had replaced the stock ones with. It served as a wakeup call of sorts, energetic and lively enough to get her wanting to moving. The target was getting closer and closer and soon she would have to make a leap of faith, throw herself back into the life she had tried to escape after a brief hiatus. She would have to cover her comfortable wife-beater and sweatpants with ceramic and aramid armor that always left her fur drenched in sweat. For now she could lounge in her chair and sip at her coffee between bites of dehydrated paste claiming to be mashed potatoes, but in the near future she'd gulping down water provided to her by the survival system in her armor and choking down lumps of vascular flesh in order to stay alive after some bastard Black Legionary landed a snap shot on her.

Her life was just a series of gunfights, dodging bullets and forcing herself to consume the hearts of her enemies like some kind of space age barbarian. All because the greedy suits at Lovos wanted a monster they could lease out to any army

Born to Fight: Bounty Hunters

Lovos Armaments: Rugged, Reliable, Relentless

The following is a report on the escaped bioweapon CZ-18B3, better known as Callsign: Void. It had been leased out to the mercenary company McCulloch Security a tracker and breacher, but escaped containment the day before she was due to be shipped back to our care. CZ-18B3 is an incredibly powerful tool and is worth a great expense to recover, but will not go quietly. If it's ever found again.

McCulloch Security provided the following transcript of an interview of Void done by her McCulloch assigned handler a day before her escape.

IDENTITY?
"My call sign is Void."
WHAT WAS YOUR NAME BEFORE YOU WERE ACTIVATED?
"....I don't know."
HOW OLD ARE YOU?
"I have been operational for two (2) standard years after you rented me."
WHAT IS YOUR AGE?
"...I have been oper-"
HOW MANY YEARS HAVE YOU BEEN CONSCIOUS TOTAL?
"I can't answer that. All memories before my reactivation are blocked from me."
WHAT ARE YOU?
"...My call sign is Void."
WHAT SPECIES ARE YOU?

At this point Void became audibly agitated and readings showed heightened aggression and anxiety.

"Why do you people keep asking stupid questions? You know what I am! I am nothing but a weapon, a loaded gun Lovos sells to fuckers like you so you can point at targets and make me slaughter them! "
VOID, CALM DOWN.
"How can you expect me to be calm? Whatever I was, whatever life I had however long ago, those bastards stole it and made me a monster and now all I am to anyone is property!"
CZ-18B3, CALM DOWN OR YOU WILL DEACTIVATED.

According to the transcript Void refused to speak anymore.

Name: The bioweapon is designated CZ-18B3 but uses the callsign "Void". It has also been known to use other pseudonyms in the field.
Age: The unit 39 years of age.
Race: Lupine Terran
Genetics: Psionics and cybernetics enhanced genetic bioweapon.
Appearance: Void was designed so that on the outside it would appear as nothing more than a Canis Lupus Columbianus Terranus (Terran British Columbian Wolf.) Biologically female, Void stands at 1.8 meters tall (6 feet, two inches) and is covered by a layer of black fur that stand in contrast to a pair of cold blue eyes. Void is well-built with a visible six pack and powerful muscles in its arms and legs. Scars trace crisscross through the fur on it's back, wounds sustained from a grenade on her previous assignment.

When not in the field Void is noted to prefer a black synth-leather jacket and jeans, with a pair of aviators depending on the level of light. Note: Prefer doesn't mean wears exclusively. Void knows that it's being looked for, it's likely that she has by now acquired other outfits. In combat Void wears a suit Mk. 4X Scout Armor that enhances her already augmented senses and is equipped with air filters, communication equipment, water purifiers, and other various survival equipment.
-------------------------

Important items: Void is licensed to pilot Stryfe-class fighters so there's a good chance it used one to make her escape.

Weapons: 1. Chimera Automatic Assault Energy Weapon:The AAEW is a close range to mid range versatile weapon that is equally suited to clearing crowds or dealing with single targets with two rates of fire. The first is fully automatic, blasts of green plasma being spat from the rotating barrels and split into individual splashes, like the pellets of a shotgun. The second mode is a charge shot that can melt through armor and flesh and even do minor damage to the hulls of ships.
2. Eminence Royal Armory Co. Huntsman Rifle: The Huntsman Scout Rifle (Figure 5 in the attached image) was orignally inteded as a ceremony or display peace, but is still nontheless a solidly functioning railgun. Void's enhanced eyesight allow her to make use of it from extreme ranges without the help of a scope.
3. Warfighter 23: Mass produced and well loved, the Warfighter serves as Void's backup weapon and tool for close in assassinations.
4. Wrist Ports: Void is equipped with payload launchers in her wrist that can cycle between varroius grenade types, monofilament nets, grappling hooks, jets of fire and even blasts of blinding acid.
5. Claws: Void's original claws have been replaced nanocarbon cutting implements that can be coated with a thin film of energy to slice steel.

Physical Abilities:1. Speed and Reflexes: The natural dexterity of a predator has been improved with genetically enhanced muscles and mind. Void is capable of holding her own in unarmed or melee combat with multiple foes and is nigh impossible to outrun.
2. Hardened Shell: Under the outer layer skin Void has a secondary shell of hardened cartilage and sinew that serves as a secondary defense against damage. It's not enough to stop a bullet by completely stop a bullet by itself, but can be a lifesaver when combined with armor.
3. Senses: Void call call upon a HUD display that overlays on top of her field of view, keeping track of ammo, targets in view, weather conditions and even show a list of objectives. It can see in thermal and infrared vision and can zoom in up to to ten times. It's capable of tracking targets by smell only, and can focus to be able to pick up the sound of heartbeats.
4. Healing: The weapon has a minor healing factor, able to recover from burns and lacerations in a few hours. But for serious or life threatening wounds it needs to consume fresh heart muscle. Humanoid works best but animal hearts will do in a pinch. The freshly oxygenated blood and cardiovascular tissue is quickly burnt and put to work repairing punctured organs, replenish lost blood and knitting back together shattered bones.

Psionic Powers:1. Warp: Void is able blink in and out of existence at will, appearing in different locations in seconds. Short jumps are of little consequence, but doing long or repeated trips will leave it lightheaded, dizzy, feeling sick and even passing out in extreme circumstances.

-------------------------

Personality: Under normal circumstances Void is noted to be cordial and calm, if a bit quiet. It's capable of forming strong bond of friendship or respect as well holding grudges, something demonstrated by it's treatment of the McCulloch security forces, but is programmed to always put it's own survival first. Void is biologically female and refers to itself as such and has shown attraction to both genders but it's doubtful that romantic encounters are at the top of its list of priorities. Most likely it's focused on evading capture and uncovering details of its past missions and who it was before being converted by the Bioweapons Divison.

In the field the weapon is skilled at tracking targets and dealing with hostile terrain, having specialized in dropping into the field from high altitude or low orbit and trailing quarry before taking them out. It has a preference for close quarters combat but is more than capable of engaging targets from long range if need be.

As a side note, Void is attracted to all manner of vices. Drinking, smoking, overeating, excessive sugar intake, even casual narcotics usage. This is believed to be a sort of stress relief for the bioweapon, one it can indulge in far past the limits of a normal person thanks to it's healing factor. It's not unheard of for it to go through five packs of cigarettes in a day or four cases of beer in under an hour.

Background: In it's past life Void was Security Officer Emmi "Pathfinder" Kaone, a specialist in catching industrial spies and informants for Lovos. She had joined the company at the age of 18, intending to work through college. The Terran showed a natural affinity for combat and tracking and ended up dropping out of school when offered a six figure pay check to go through Lovos's selective specialization courses. She received training in small arms, tracking, counter-espionage, first aid and surveillance and was assigned to a recovery team at the age of 21. Within a year she was leading it, stealing back secrets from rival companies and silencing sources of leaks and particularly dangerous trade rivals.

At 25 it all went wrong. A routine surveillance job turned violent when the target pulled his weapon. A shootout ensued and local law enforcement got involved. By the end of it the target, four members of law enforcement, and two Lavos personal were dead. Of the survivors, Kaone was in critical condition and her partner was later captured and sentenced to a life sentence of hard labor. When her superiors heard about the debacle they quietly arranged for her to released from custody once her condition was stabilized for use in the company's burgeoning bioweapons project.

Over the course of three years Emmi was transformed and replaced by Void, her body hardened and implanted with weapons and enhancements. Memories of her old life were suppressed and replaced with the ability to harness the power of the mind to tear holes in the field of gestalt energy that made up the universe and travel through them. It was a long, costly, and for the subject, painful process but was no doubt worth it. The end result was a unit that could live and serve for centuries assuming it avoided violent death, a lethal hunter with the ability to heal itself using it's enemies remains. All that was needed was a way to field test it.

To accomplish this and recoup some of the money spent in it's creation the unit was rented out to various people and organizations, serving across all manner of terrain for mercenaries, armies, insurgent groups and even crime syndicates looking for a way to eliminate enemies. To keep track of it's whereabouts Unit CZ-18B3 was implanted with a tracker and kill switch and was informed of the consequences of trying to flee. So it served begrudgingly and obediently.

Until a year ago. Void was contracted out to a platoon of McCulloch Security on the asteroid mining colony of Wanderer's Refuge. McCulloch had been tasked with suppressing the miner's riots and Void was being used to eliminate leaders of the uprising. The violence reached a fever pitch and the colony was in open revolt, and communications were cut for about a week. When contact was reestablished the division didn't respond to any attempts to reach them. When teams were sent to investigate the found the entire platoon dead and Void missing. There was no sign of forced entry and the only thing taken was the unit itself and it's equipment. It had stolen itself.

The kill switch was engaged and it's signal tracked to a dingy room in a filthy traveler's hostel on a nearby hub planet but all the recovery team found was the tracker wrapped in a bloodstained napkin and tossed under the bed. It's believed that Void stole or stowed away on a ship fleeing the violence in Wanderer's Refuge and had a underground surgeon remove the device. It's also expected that it will come looking for answers, sooner or later.

Roleplay Sample: The last thing Void could clearly remember was handing over a pile of stolen credits to the street surgeon she had managed to find and discretely palming the scrap of paper with the address of the operating room they were scheduled to meet in. After that it was all just a blur of blending in crowds and sinking back into the shadows, running from shady corner to back alley and eventually holing up in a scrapyard for the night under the rusted hulk of a trashed ship. Every face in the hordes of refugees looked like a agent of Lovos, all the men hanging on street corners spies tracking her. Was communication on Wanderer's Refuge still down? Oh god she hoped it was. Every moment that passed was another moment closer to her escape being discovered and the killswitch being activated.

The bioweapon closed her eyes and tried to force herself to sleep, painfully aware of the fact that the next time she woke up it could be back in the labs. Or she might just never wake up at all. With that comforting thought Void drifted off to oblivion, wrapped up in a sheet of insulating foam torn from the abandoned hulk above her.

She was up before dawn, drifting back through the alleys and shaded corners before taking a detour into the sewer system, convinced that the woman taking her early morning stroll was tailing her. The Terran emergered back into the light three streets over, right in front of the hostel. The run down building was open for business judging by the lights on inside so she could just stroll right in. But that was stupid. She needed to minimize the amount of people who saw her. Luckily there was a second option. The room she was looking for was the "penthouse", which in this case meant it had a small concrete balcony with a couple of dead plants sitting on the ledge.

She untied her boots and laced them together, hanging them around her neck as she sidled up to the dreary grey wall. No one was around at the moment, now was the time to get this done. Void pressed her hands into the concrete structure and began to climb, scrambling for quickly up the building by using the claws on her hands and feet for purchase. Within a couple minutes she was at the top, pulling herself up and over the balcony and slipping inside the apartment. The doctor wasn't there yet but that was fine. She could be productive while waited.

Void stripped off her pants and dug around the room for material, finding a discarded pen and breaking it to get access to the red ink. She marked a square roughly an inch in width and length on her inner thigh and sat down to wait, ears flat against her head. When the street surgeon arrived they didn't bother to exchange greetings, Void simply allowing him to set his stuff down and inject her with anesthesia.

Or at least let him try. The armored carapace under her skin was too tough to be pierced by the needle, the chop doc spending minutes trying with his pockmarked brow wrinkled in confusion. "Lady, what's your fur made of?" I'm not going to be able to cut through this shit!" He said annoyance. "It's not the fur, it's a-" Void cut herself there. He didn't need to know the details. Instead she just took the syringe and pricked herself in one of the few unarmored spots on her body, sinking it into the crook of her elbow and depressing the plunger. 5 milligrams of sedative potent enough to tranquilizer a horse flowed into her bloodstream but all Void felt was a sort of numbness thanks to her healing factor. She gave the doctor a thumbs up and the operation began.

The scalpel bit into the inked square and sliced away, the path of fur being cut out and tossed away. Void bit her lip as the tracker came into view, finally looking at the square of tiny circuits and wires that controlled her. "This it?" The doc asked. "That's the fucker." She confirmed. "Just grab it and pull it out." A pair of needlenose pliers gripped a wire and pulled, the killswitch being pulled away from the palette of cartilage like a piece of tape from a wall. "Done." The chop doc said, dropping it to the floor. "Bandage that before you get dressed again."

As soon as he left Void let loose a breath she didn't even know she had been holding. It was over, she was free. She could go where she wanted, do what she wanted, BE who she wanted. Lovos didn't control her anymore. What she did next was entirely up to her.

And what she did next was lazily bandage herself and root through her bag to take out a half finished bottle of whiskey, a crumple pack of cigarettes and an unopened bar of chocolate. She was going to come after Lovos sooner or later but for the time being she just wanted to relax before figuring out her game plan.

Song: Got a song you like? (optional)

Born to Fight: Bounty Hunters

Lovos Armaments: Rugged, Reliable, Relentless

The following is a report on the escaped bioweapon CZ-18B3, better known as Callsign: Void. It had been leased out to the mercenary company McCulloch Security a tracker and breacher, but escaped containment the day before she was due to be shipped back to our care. CZ-18B3 is an incredibly powerful tool and is worth a great expense to recover, but will not go quietly. If it's ever found again.

McCulloch Security provided the following transcript of an interview of Void done by her McCulloch assigned handler a day before her escape.

IDENTITY?
"My call sign is Void."
WHAT WAS YOUR NAME BEFORE YOU WERE ACTIVATED?
"....I don't know."
Age: HOW OLD ARE YOU?
"I have been operational for two (2) standard years after you rented me."
WHAT IS YOUR AGE?
"...I have been oper-"
HOW MANY YEARS HAVE YOU BEEN CONSCIOUS TOTAL?
"I can't answer that. All memories before my reactivation are blocked from me."
Race: WHAT ARE YOU?
"...My call sign is Void."
WHAT SPECIES ARE YOU?

At this point Void became audibly agitated and readings showed heightened aggression and anxiety.

"Why do you people keep asking stupid questions? You know what I am! I am nothing but a weapon, a loaded gun Lovos sells to fuckers like you so you can point at targets and make me slaughter them! "
VOID, CALM DOWN.
"How can you expect me to be calm? Whatever I was, whatever life I had however long ago, those bastards stole it and made me a monster and now all I am to anyone is property!"
CZ-18B3, CALM DOWN OR YOU WILL DEACTIVATED.

According to the transcript Void refused to speak anymore.

Name: The bioweapon is designated CZ-18B3 but uses the callsign "Void". It has also been known to use other pseudonyms in the field.
Age: The unit 39 years of age.
Race: Lupine Terran
Genetics: Psionics and cybernetics enhanced genetic bioweapon.
Appearance: Void was designed so that on the outside it would appear as nothing more than a Canis Lupus Columbianus Terranus (Terran British Columbian Wolf.) Biologically female, Void stands at 1.8 meters tall (6 feet, two inches) and is covered by a layer of black fur that stand in contrast to a pair of cold blue eyes. Void is well-built with a visible six pack and powerful muscles in its arms and legs. Scars trace crisscross through the fur on it's back, wounds sustained from a grenade on her previous assignment.

When not in the field Void is noted to prefer a black synth-leather jacket and jeans, with a pair of aviators depending on the level of light. Note: Prefer doesn't mean wears exclusively. Void knows that it's being looked for, it's likely that she has by now acquired other outfits. In combat Void wears a suit Mk. 4X Scout Armor that enhances her already augmented senses and is equipped with air filters, communication equipment, water purifiers, and other various survival equipment.
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Important items: Void is licensed to pilot Stryfe-class fighters so there's a good chance it used one to make her escape.

Weapons: 1. Chimera Automatic Assault Energy Weapon:The AAEW is a close range to mid range versatile weapon that is equally suited to clearing crowds or dealing with single targets with two rates of fire. The first is fully automatic, blasts of green plasma being spat from the rotating barrels and split into individual splashes, like the pellets of a shotgun. The second mode is a charge shot that can melt through armor and flesh and even do minor damage to the hulls of ships.
2. Eminence Royal Armory Co. Huntsman Rifle: The Huntsman Scout Rifle (Figure 5 in the attached image) was orignally inteded as a ceremony or display peace, but is still nontheless a solidly functioning railgun. Void's enhanced eyesight allow her to make use of it from extreme ranges without the help of a scope.
3. Warfighter 23: Mass produced and well loved, the Warfighter serves as Void's backup weapon and tool for close in assassinations.
4. Wrist Ports: Void is equipped with payload launchers in her wrist that can cycle between varroius grenade types, monofilament nets, grappling hooks, jets of fire and even blasts of blinding acid.
5. Claws: Void's original claws have been replaced nanocarbon cutting implements that can be coated with a thin film of energy to slice steel.

Physical Abilities:1. Speed and Reflexes: The natural dexterity of a predator has been improved with genetically enhanced muscles and mind. Void is capable of holding her own in unarmed or melee combat with multiple foes and is nigh impossible to outrun.
2. Hardened Shell: Under the outer layer skin Void has a secondary shell of hardened cartilage and sinew that serves as a secondary defense against damage. It's not enough to stop a bullet by completely stop a bullet by itself, but can be a lifesaver when combined with armor.
3. Senses: Void call call upon a HUD display that overlays on top of her field of view, keeping track of ammo, targets in view, weather conditions and even show a list of objectives. It can see in thermal and infrared vision and can zoom in up to to ten times. It's capable of tracking targets by smell only, and can focus to be able to pick up the sound of heartbeats.
4. Healing: The weapon has a minor healing factor, able to recover from burns and lacerations in a few hours. But for serious or life threatening wounds it needs to consume fresh heart muscle. Humanoid works best but animal hearts will do in a pinch. The freshly oxygenated blood and cardiovascular tissue is quickly burnt and put to work repairing punctured organs, replenish lost blood and knitting back together shattered bones.

Psionic Powers:1. Warp: Void is able blink in and out of existence at will, appearing in different locations in seconds. Short jumps are of little consequence, but doing long or repeated trips will leave it lightheaded, dizzy, feeling sick and even passing out in extreme circumstances.

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Personality: Under normal circumstances Void is noted to be cordial and calm, if a bit quiet. It's capable of forming strong bond of friendship or respect as well holding grudges, something demonstrated by it's treatment of the McCulloch security forces, but is programmed to always put it's own survival first. Void is biologically female and refers to itself as such and has shown attraction to both genders but it's doubtful that romantic encounters are at the top of its list of priorities. Most likely it's focused on evading capture and uncovering details of its past missions and who it was before being converted by the Bioweapons Divison.

In the field the weapon is skilled at tracking targets and dealing with hostile terrain, having specialized in dropping into the field from high altitude or low orbit and trailing quarry before taking them out. It has a preference for close quarters combat but is more than capable of engaging targets from long range if need be.

As a side note, Void is attracted to all manner of vices. Drinking, smoking, overeating, excessive sugar intake, even casual narcotics usage. This is believed to be a sort of stress relief for the bioweapon, one it can indulge in far past the limits of a normal person thanks to it's healing factor. It's not unheard of for it to go through five packs of cigarettes in a day or four cases of beer in under an hour.

Background: In it's past life Void was Security Officer Emmi "Pathfinder" Kaone, a specialist in catching industrial spies and informants for Lovos. She had joined the company at the age of 18, intending to work through college. The Terran showed a natural affinity for combat and tracking and ended up dropping out of school when offered a six figure pay check to go through Lovos's selective specialization courses. She received training in small arms, tracking, counter-espionage, first aid and surveillance and was assigned to a recovery team at the age of 21. Within a year she was leading it, stealing back secrets from rival companies and silencing sources of leaks and particularly dangerous trade rivals.

At 25 it all went wrong. A routine surveillance job turned violent when the target pulled his weapon. A shootout ensued and local law enforcement got involved. By the end of it the target, four members of law enforcement, and two Lavos personal were dead. Of the survivors, Kaone was in critical condition and her partner was later captured and sentenced to a life sentence of hard labor. When her superiors heard about the debacle they quietly arranged for her to released from custody once her condition was stabilized for use in the company's burgeoning bioweapons project.

Over the course of three years Emmi was transformed and replaced by Void, her body hardened and implanted with weapons and enhancements. Memories of her old life were suppressed and replaced with the ability to harness the power of the mind to tear holes in the field of gestalt energy that made up the universe and travel through them. It was a long, costly, and for the subject, painful process but was no doubt worth it. The end result was a unit that could live and serve for centuries assuming it avoided violent death, a lethal hunter with the ability to heal itself using it's enemies remains. All that was needed was a way to field test it.

To accomplish this and recoup some of the money spent in it's creation the unit was rented out to various people and organizations, serving across all manner of terrain for mercenaries, armies, insurgent groups and even crime syndicates looking for a way to eliminate enemies. To keep track of it's whereabouts Unit CZ-18B3 was implanted with a tracker and kill switch and was informed of the consequences of trying to flee. So it served begrudgingly and obediently.

Until a year ago. Void was contracted out to a platoon of McCulloch Security on the asteroid mining colony of Wanderer's Refuge. McCulloch had been tasked with suppressing the miner's riots and Void was being used to eliminate leaders of the uprising. The violence reached a fever pitch and the colony was in open revolt, and communications were cut for about a week. When contact was reestablished the division didn't respond to any attempts to reach them. When teams were sent to investigate the found the entire platoon dead and Void missing. There was no sign of forced entry and the only thing taken was the unit itself and it's equipment. It had stolen itself.

The kill switch was engaged and it's signal tracked to a dingy room in a filthy traveler's hostel on a nearby hub planet but all the recovery team found was the tracker wrapped in a bloodstained napkin and tossed under the bed. It's believed that Void stole or stowed away on a ship fleeing the violence in Wanderer's Refuge and had a underground surgeon remove the device. It's also expected that it will come looking for answers, sooner or later.

Roleplay Sample: The last thing Void could clearly remember was handing over a pile of stolen credits to the street surgeon she had managed to find and discretely palming the scrap of paper with the address of the operating room they were scheduled to meet in. After that it was all just a blur of blending in crowds and sinking back into the shadows, running from shady corner to back alley and eventually holing up in a scrapyard for the night under the rusted hulk of a trashed ship. Every face in the hordes of refugees looked like a agent of Lovos, all the men hanging on street corners spies tracking her. Was communication on Wanderer's Refuge still down? Oh god she hoped it was. Every moment that passed was another moment closer to her escape being discovered and the killswitch being activated.

The bioweapon closed her eyes and tried to force herself to sleep, painfully aware of the fact that the next time she woke up it could be back in the labs. Or she might just never wake up at all. With that comforting thought Void drifted off to oblivion, wrapped up in a sheet of insulating foam torn from the abandoned hulk above her.

She was up before dawn, drifting back through the alleys and shaded corners before taking a detour into the sewer system, convinced that the woman taking her early morning stroll was tailing her. The Terran emergered back into the light three streets over, right in front of the hostel. The run down building was open for business judging by the lights on inside so she could just stroll right in. But that was stupid. She needed to minimize the amount of people who saw her. Luckily there was a second option. The room she was looking for was the "penthouse", which in this case meant it had a small concrete balcony with a couple of dead plants sitting on the ledge.

She untied her boots and laced them together, hanging them around her neck as she sidled up to the dreary grey wall. No one was around at the moment, now was the time to get this done. Void pressed her hands into the concrete structure and began to climb, scrambling for quickly up the building by using the claws on her hands and feet for purchase. Within a couple minutes she was at the top, pulling herself up and over the balcony and slipping inside the apartment. The doctor wasn't there yet but that was fine. She could be productive while waited.

Void stripped off her pants and dug around the room for material, finding a discarded pen and breaking it to get access to the red ink. She marked a square roughly an inch in width and length on her inner thigh and sat down to wait, ears flat against her head. When the street surgeon arrived they didn't bother to exchange greetings, Void simply allowing him to set his stuff down and inject her with anesthesia.

Or at least let him try. The armored carapace under her skin was too tough to be pierced by the needle, the chop doc spending minutes trying with his pockmarked brow wrinkled in confusion. "Lady, what's your fur made of?" I'm not going to be able to cut through this shit!" He said annoyance. "It's not the fur, it's a-" Void cut herself there. He didn't need to know the details. Instead she just took the syringe and pricked herself in one of the few unarmored spots on her body, sinking it into the crook of her elbow and depressing the plunger. 5 milligrams of sedative potent enough to tranquilizer a horse flowed into her bloodstream but all Void felt was a sort of numbness thanks to her healing factor. She gave the doctor a thumbs up and the operation began.

The scalpel bit into the inked square and sliced away, the path of fur being cut out and tossed away. Void bit her lip as the tracker came into view, finally looking at the square of tiny circuits and wires that controlled her. "This it?" The doc asked. "That's the fucker." She confirmed. "Just grab it and pull it out." A pair of needlenose pliers gripped a wire and pulled, the killswitch being pulled away from the palette of cartilage like a piece of tape from a wall. "Done." The chop doc said, dropping it to the floor. "Bandage that before you get dressed again."

As soon as he left Void let loose a breath she didn't even know she had been holding. It was over, she was free. She could go where she wanted, do what she wanted, BE who she wanted. Lovos didn't control her anymore. What she did next was entirely up to her.

And what she did next was lazily bandage herself and root through her bag to take out a half finished bottle of whiskey, a crumple pack of cigarettes and an unopened bar of chocolate. She was going to come after Lovos sooner or later but for the time being she just wanted to relax before figuring out her game plan.

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Smike's Sheets

Born to Fight: Bounty Hunters

Tentative tag for interest assuming it’s still open! What sorta roles are we missing?

(Also, Thanks @The Jest)