op2024
Fish of Oblivion
FourtyTwo
Fetzen
Andre Valias
Noctis
wintersoldier
Dark Cloud
Lunamaria Hawke
DogName: HB-202RC ('Horned Bastard, 202nd Zealot of the Ravenous Cohort')
Age: 322
Sex: Biologically female
Species: Mon'nnari
Appearance: HB stands taller than the average human male at six feet, not counting their horns, and carries themselves with a warrior's grace. They tend to dress simply and practically, leaning towards cheap and replaceable clothes when at rest and sturdy combat gear when in the field. However, HB does indulge in jewelry. They've decorated their face and horns with several bangles and studs, the flashy adornments a holdover from their criminal career.
If one happened upon HB in a state of undress they'd noticed a number of old surgical scars and sealed ports, relics from their days as a soldier for the Hegemony. Their original cybernetic augments were bulky and obtrusive but as the years went on they've been replaced with more advanced and discrete ones. That said, they are very clearly augmented. While not a full-conversion borg HB is cybered to a very high degree, with seams on their limbs and torso denoting implanted weapons and subdermal armor.
As a side note, instead of the usual red blood HB bleeds a pale, milky blue. Their blood was replaced with an artificial variant that better regulates temperature and insulates the various augmentations from electromagnetism.
Personality: HB is, at first glance, spacey and out of touch. They were never quite learned how to interface normally with society, often coming across as distant or perhaps not entirely there. They have a tendency to look through people rather than at them during a conversation, sizing up someone with all the cold clinicality of a machine crunching numbers. This ruthless calculation is at odds with their sleepy-eyed and dazed expression, a side effect of the drugs running through their system.
Part of HB's faith involves the use of psychoactive substances to achieve the Ideal Conscious, a state of loose calm characterized by meditative introspection and mild hallucination. Words are distorted and images are altered, giving them the sensation of being in a permanent dream. This makes holding a conversation with them an amusing or annoying experience, depending on one's preference. But by using a neural implant hooked into their serotonin receptors they can flush their system of the narcotics, forcing themselves sober. This is an unpleasant experience and makes HB rather taciturn, but they only use it when combat is imminent.
History: The child that would eventually be known as HB-202 was born generations after Mon'nnari were annexed by the Hegemony, and there was no question as to its fate. They were born a Zealot, a religious order of elite warriors and assassins who saw warfare and sabotage as devotional actions. The Zealots believed that they were not free spirits but pieces in a puzzle or cogs in a machine, individual parts that had to work for the good of the whole. As such, it would be inaccurate to say that the child had a family. They knew who their relatives were but their parents had been assigned to each other by their superiors for the sake of producing future fighters and their siblings were kept faceless same as all the other children. They ate in the same dining hall and slept in the same barracks but were taught to bond with each other as comrades and nothing more.
The child trained dutifully and is made a full Zealot upon reaching adulthood, replacing a fallen soldier. They were not given a numerical designation but inherited one, becoming the new 202nd of the Ravenous Cohort and then swiftly deployed against the Hegemony's enemies. Zealots were prized for their use as raiders and ambushers, slinking into enemy territory to disrupt supply lines and force troops away from the front lines. At first they took action against pirates and dissidents on the fringes of Hegemony territory but with the arrival of the Confederation they were given a proper war to fight.
They served admirably, working with a small ship-based team to harry the intruding forces. Despite the facelessness of the Zealots they were given notable autonomy in the field, often directed towards a region of space and told to make trouble however they saw fit. 202 destroyed ammo depots, contaminated medical supplies, assassinated political and military leaders, sabotaged refueling stations so that they would explode when docked with, anything to hurt the Confederation and force them to stretch themselves thin. They took pride in their work, as by the tenets of their faith every legitimate target destroyed was a positive step on their journey to martial enlightenment. This had been the way of the Zealots before they had served the Hegemony, and their beliefs were tolerated as they produced skilled and devoted agents who did a tremendous amount of damage for their small numbers. But the Hegemony did not allow for deviation from their vision, and the new realities of war brought mandated change.
The Zealots were retrained as mech pilots and the parameters of their missions changed. Now they were less scaples and more knives, leaving long slashing wounds in the enemy's territory. During the Second Confederation War the Zealots were directed towards vulnerable civilian targets as well as military ones, displacing populations and destroying food supplies to force the Confederation to deal with defenseless people. 202 did as instructed, taking the initiative and earning a reputation for damaging power plants and water storage units, but they were disquieted by this new method of warfare.
By the third war the mandate had changed yet again, and the Ravenous Cohort lived up to its name. 202 and their comrades now served a purely destructive role, practicing a sort of proactive scorched earth where they simply rampaged across a region do as much damage as possible and stymie attempts to rebuild. 202 shelled cities and harder civilians into killzones as commanded, but they did it without enthusiasm. The Hegemony had morphed the Zealots into something far removed from their original purpose, and 202, feeling abandoned, abandoned it in turn. The end of the war saw them stuck far behind Confederate lines and they didn't bother escaping back to friendly territory.
Now in the boundary between the Halo and the Frontier of Confederation space 202 found themselves in the Antarus System, a cluster of small moons and planets known for two things: mining operations, and vice of all sorts. While their medical training and knowledge on augmentation could have gotten them steady work as a doctor 202 still craved the comradery and sense of unity that came with fighting for a larger group, and their military-grade cybernetics and martial skill made them valuable for anyone looking for a fight. They fell in with the Rock Rats, a collection of toughs dealing in black market ores and stolen goods. 202 quickly earned a reputation for brawling, taking part in turf wars with their gangster brethren. Being one of the few, if not only Mon'nnari in the system they were dubbed the Horned Bastard, a moniker they adopted to replace their now abandoned Hegemony name.
After a few years of tangling with street toughs and pirates HB attracted the attention of bigger players. The Rock Rats were subordinate to the Spacers Syndicate, a truly intergalatic network spanning the Confederation and the ISA. Always on the hunt for talent, HB-202's loyalty and ruthlessness was smiled upon, and they were granted a spot in the Spacers' ranks. They were again enjoying themselves as the people they fought were rivals or debtors, folks who should have known better than to have involved themselves. But as they moved up the ranks, they became responsible for more rackets, and the wider their reach, the less they could narrow their sights. Once again HB found themselves picking on civilians, bullying dockyard workers and bureaucrats into silence. Their conscious picked at them, and HB began wondering if they should make another career change.
Roughly three decades into their tenure with the Syndicate HB met a young Synth on shore leave from the Confederation ship she was stationed on. Lorei was intriguing in many ways to the assassin-turned-mobster; her existence as an artificial being with free will was a fascinating prospect to someone who had spent their whole life seconding their autonomy to a greater whole. In fact, Lorei in general intrigued HB. As they spent time together 202 grew to appreciate her openness, her willingness to indulge in order to learn, her ability to be cocky without being offputting. For the first time in HB's life, they felt not a vague loyalty to fellow cogs in some larger machine but mutual affection on an individual level.
A romance blossomed and promised to grow into something wonderful, but reality had a way of intruding. The Shodane War saw HB's Beloved Synth pulled away to fight and then subjected to torture that could only be suffered by an artificial mind. When the pair reunited it was a one-sided affair. Lorei could bring up snippets of conversations they had or remember HB's favorite drink, but their entire relationship was twisted and warped so as to be almost completely nonexistent. HB was no stranger to altering their consciousness and emptying their mind, but such a brutal scrubbing of their Beloved Synth horrified them. They desperately tried to patch things up in anyway they could, but Lorei, ashamed by her inability to connect her fragmented memories to emotions she knew she was supposed to feel, ran away.
HB had been planning on leaving their criminal life but now had no reason to do so, languidly going through the motions of underworld politics for another twenty years. Without Lorei around they saw no purpose in change, but chance would eventually give them a reason to better themselves. Sticking with the Spacers also let them call upon a vast network of tipsters and informants, people they could rely on to get information. Eventually their searching paid off, locating Lorei in the Rangers.
Now all HB needed was a way in, and they found it when they were caught up in raid. The local government was aware of their activities but could only pin minor offenses on them. Some basic possession raps would not keep them behind bars for very long, but speaking with the authorities allowed HB to forge yet another path. They offered to make amends by serving the Confederation, and it was determined their skillset would make them an asset to the Rangers.
Key facts: HB-202RC is a combination of their old gang nickname and their Crusader designation. In its long form it means 'Horned Bastard, 202nd Zealot of the Ravenous Cohort' (although this is not a perfect translation). Their birth name is currently unknown to Confederate authorities.
Personal Gear:
Specialty: Medical Officer/Fire Support
Anything Else:
Age: 322
Sex: Biologically female
Species: Mon'nnari
Appearance: HB stands taller than the average human male at six feet, not counting their horns, and carries themselves with a warrior's grace. They tend to dress simply and practically, leaning towards cheap and replaceable clothes when at rest and sturdy combat gear when in the field. However, HB does indulge in jewelry. They've decorated their face and horns with several bangles and studs, the flashy adornments a holdover from their criminal career.
If one happened upon HB in a state of undress they'd noticed a number of old surgical scars and sealed ports, relics from their days as a soldier for the Hegemony. Their original cybernetic augments were bulky and obtrusive but as the years went on they've been replaced with more advanced and discrete ones. That said, they are very clearly augmented. While not a full-conversion borg HB is cybered to a very high degree, with seams on their limbs and torso denoting implanted weapons and subdermal armor.
As a side note, instead of the usual red blood HB bleeds a pale, milky blue. Their blood was replaced with an artificial variant that better regulates temperature and insulates the various augmentations from electromagnetism.
Personality: HB is, at first glance, spacey and out of touch. They were never quite learned how to interface normally with society, often coming across as distant or perhaps not entirely there. They have a tendency to look through people rather than at them during a conversation, sizing up someone with all the cold clinicality of a machine crunching numbers. This ruthless calculation is at odds with their sleepy-eyed and dazed expression, a side effect of the drugs running through their system.
Part of HB's faith involves the use of psychoactive substances to achieve the Ideal Conscious, a state of loose calm characterized by meditative introspection and mild hallucination. Words are distorted and images are altered, giving them the sensation of being in a permanent dream. This makes holding a conversation with them an amusing or annoying experience, depending on one's preference. But by using a neural implant hooked into their serotonin receptors they can flush their system of the narcotics, forcing themselves sober. This is an unpleasant experience and makes HB rather taciturn, but they only use it when combat is imminent.
History: The child that would eventually be known as HB-202 was born generations after Mon'nnari were annexed by the Hegemony, and there was no question as to its fate. They were born a Zealot, a religious order of elite warriors and assassins who saw warfare and sabotage as devotional actions. The Zealots believed that they were not free spirits but pieces in a puzzle or cogs in a machine, individual parts that had to work for the good of the whole. As such, it would be inaccurate to say that the child had a family. They knew who their relatives were but their parents had been assigned to each other by their superiors for the sake of producing future fighters and their siblings were kept faceless same as all the other children. They ate in the same dining hall and slept in the same barracks but were taught to bond with each other as comrades and nothing more.
The child trained dutifully and is made a full Zealot upon reaching adulthood, replacing a fallen soldier. They were not given a numerical designation but inherited one, becoming the new 202nd of the Ravenous Cohort and then swiftly deployed against the Hegemony's enemies. Zealots were prized for their use as raiders and ambushers, slinking into enemy territory to disrupt supply lines and force troops away from the front lines. At first they took action against pirates and dissidents on the fringes of Hegemony territory but with the arrival of the Confederation they were given a proper war to fight.
They served admirably, working with a small ship-based team to harry the intruding forces. Despite the facelessness of the Zealots they were given notable autonomy in the field, often directed towards a region of space and told to make trouble however they saw fit. 202 destroyed ammo depots, contaminated medical supplies, assassinated political and military leaders, sabotaged refueling stations so that they would explode when docked with, anything to hurt the Confederation and force them to stretch themselves thin. They took pride in their work, as by the tenets of their faith every legitimate target destroyed was a positive step on their journey to martial enlightenment. This had been the way of the Zealots before they had served the Hegemony, and their beliefs were tolerated as they produced skilled and devoted agents who did a tremendous amount of damage for their small numbers. But the Hegemony did not allow for deviation from their vision, and the new realities of war brought mandated change.
The Zealots were retrained as mech pilots and the parameters of their missions changed. Now they were less scaples and more knives, leaving long slashing wounds in the enemy's territory. During the Second Confederation War the Zealots were directed towards vulnerable civilian targets as well as military ones, displacing populations and destroying food supplies to force the Confederation to deal with defenseless people. 202 did as instructed, taking the initiative and earning a reputation for damaging power plants and water storage units, but they were disquieted by this new method of warfare.
By the third war the mandate had changed yet again, and the Ravenous Cohort lived up to its name. 202 and their comrades now served a purely destructive role, practicing a sort of proactive scorched earth where they simply rampaged across a region do as much damage as possible and stymie attempts to rebuild. 202 shelled cities and harder civilians into killzones as commanded, but they did it without enthusiasm. The Hegemony had morphed the Zealots into something far removed from their original purpose, and 202, feeling abandoned, abandoned it in turn. The end of the war saw them stuck far behind Confederate lines and they didn't bother escaping back to friendly territory.
Now in the boundary between the Halo and the Frontier of Confederation space 202 found themselves in the Antarus System, a cluster of small moons and planets known for two things: mining operations, and vice of all sorts. While their medical training and knowledge on augmentation could have gotten them steady work as a doctor 202 still craved the comradery and sense of unity that came with fighting for a larger group, and their military-grade cybernetics and martial skill made them valuable for anyone looking for a fight. They fell in with the Rock Rats, a collection of toughs dealing in black market ores and stolen goods. 202 quickly earned a reputation for brawling, taking part in turf wars with their gangster brethren. Being one of the few, if not only Mon'nnari in the system they were dubbed the Horned Bastard, a moniker they adopted to replace their now abandoned Hegemony name.
After a few years of tangling with street toughs and pirates HB attracted the attention of bigger players. The Rock Rats were subordinate to the Spacers Syndicate, a truly intergalatic network spanning the Confederation and the ISA. Always on the hunt for talent, HB-202's loyalty and ruthlessness was smiled upon, and they were granted a spot in the Spacers' ranks. They were again enjoying themselves as the people they fought were rivals or debtors, folks who should have known better than to have involved themselves. But as they moved up the ranks, they became responsible for more rackets, and the wider their reach, the less they could narrow their sights. Once again HB found themselves picking on civilians, bullying dockyard workers and bureaucrats into silence. Their conscious picked at them, and HB began wondering if they should make another career change.
Roughly three decades into their tenure with the Syndicate HB met a young Synth on shore leave from the Confederation ship she was stationed on. Lorei was intriguing in many ways to the assassin-turned-mobster; her existence as an artificial being with free will was a fascinating prospect to someone who had spent their whole life seconding their autonomy to a greater whole. In fact, Lorei in general intrigued HB. As they spent time together 202 grew to appreciate her openness, her willingness to indulge in order to learn, her ability to be cocky without being offputting. For the first time in HB's life, they felt not a vague loyalty to fellow cogs in some larger machine but mutual affection on an individual level.
A romance blossomed and promised to grow into something wonderful, but reality had a way of intruding. The Shodane War saw HB's Beloved Synth pulled away to fight and then subjected to torture that could only be suffered by an artificial mind. When the pair reunited it was a one-sided affair. Lorei could bring up snippets of conversations they had or remember HB's favorite drink, but their entire relationship was twisted and warped so as to be almost completely nonexistent. HB was no stranger to altering their consciousness and emptying their mind, but such a brutal scrubbing of their Beloved Synth horrified them. They desperately tried to patch things up in anyway they could, but Lorei, ashamed by her inability to connect her fragmented memories to emotions she knew she was supposed to feel, ran away.
HB had been planning on leaving their criminal life but now had no reason to do so, languidly going through the motions of underworld politics for another twenty years. Without Lorei around they saw no purpose in change, but chance would eventually give them a reason to better themselves. Sticking with the Spacers also let them call upon a vast network of tipsters and informants, people they could rely on to get information. Eventually their searching paid off, locating Lorei in the Rangers.
Now all HB needed was a way in, and they found it when they were caught up in raid. The local government was aware of their activities but could only pin minor offenses on them. Some basic possession raps would not keep them behind bars for very long, but speaking with the authorities allowed HB to forge yet another path. They offered to make amends by serving the Confederation, and it was determined their skillset would make them an asset to the Rangers.
Key facts: HB-202RC is a combination of their old gang nickname and their Crusader designation. In its long form it means 'Horned Bastard, 202nd Zealot of the Ravenous Cohort' (although this is not a perfect translation). Their birth name is currently unknown to Confederate authorities.
Personal Gear:
- Rigut Arms Battle Rifle
- Mineba Submachine Gun
- HF Stun Blade
- Light Battle Armor: A polymer padded vest with inserted plates, connected to a flexible armored undersuit with arm and leg guards. The result is less durable in an extended fight than standard battle armor but is much lighter and more flexible, allowing her to take advantage of her quick movement and sharp reflexes while still using her arm-based cybernetic weapons due to the emitters built into the sleeves.
- Life support systems for use in space or toxic enviroments.
- Medical Equipment: A range of diagnostic and procedural tools and a wide range of medications and nanoinjections covering all manner of injuries and maladies. HB can do everything from set broken bones to full-on surgery, provided they have the space to work in.
- Seraphim Jump Pack: The signature tool of the Zealots. HB uses it to augment their high degree of mobility.
HB is heavily augmented, to the point that they're more machine than animal by percentage. These are some of their more notable cybernetics.
- CombiComms: Inbuilt translator, communicator and personal computer that directly displays information in HB's field of vision. Automatically shuts down when exposed to electronic warfare.
- Sense Enhancement Suite: The pinnacle of Hegemonic medical technology at the time HB went under the knife, careful surgery and the pinpoint implantation of minute augments gave them increased sensitivity to sound, touch, smell, and vision. The strength is variable; HB can dial it up when they're trying to sense something or down when exposed to extremes.
- Physical Enhancement Suite: An extensive collection of procedures to harden HB's body. Increases their strength and agility through vat-grown tissues, as well as insulates their body against G-forces and high pressure. Their respiratory and circulatory systems are similarly improved, giving them an inbuilt rebreathing system that lessens their need for oxygen. Finally, they are unnaturally flexible due to bendable fibers inserted in their joints.
- Arm-Implanted Weapons: For use in conjunction with conventional firearms. The left arm has an in-built sonic emitter for injuring and debilitating targets for capture while the right is a thermobaric projector that engulfs targets in a short-lived but fiercely hot chemical inferno.
Specialty: Medical Officer/Fire Support
Anything Else:
- HB refers to themselves with gender-neutral language, as a central tenet of their faith is being interchangeable with their peers.
- While they're not a mechanic and can't do extensive repairs on vehicles, HB's medical expertise extends to a wide range of cybernetics.
- They view their faith as a tool as much as a belief system. The philosophy they follow gives them goals to strive for while staying grounded. They're interested in other religious and spiritual beliefs and often adopt facets that resonate with them.
- Similialy, the martial art Mon'rletv, taught to all Zealots, is a tenet of their faith that's practiced syncretically, adapted to use different techniques from different systems.
Mecha Name: G/OFS-2, "Gehenna"
Type: Fire Support Platform
Crew: One pilot and 3 passengers.
Appearance: Gehenna
Stats:
Dimensions:
Height: 18.3 meters
Mass: 25 tons when carrying standard load
Performance: Top speed of 110 kmh
Weapons:
Equipment:
The Gehenna is a tempting target due to its size, relatively slow traversal, and sheer firepower. While it's well-armored and of solid construction it's not a brawler and will not last if pitted against coordinated enemies. It survives by staying behind friendly forces, serving as fire support before moving to rip apart any isolated foes. Most of its defenses are active, misleading, or destroying enemy missiles while deploying shields and smokescreens to deter projectile or energy weapons.
Other info:
Type: Fire Support Platform
Crew: One pilot and 3 passengers.
Appearance: Gehenna
Stats:
Dimensions:
Height: 18.3 meters
Mass: 25 tons when carrying standard load
Performance: Top speed of 110 kmh
Weapons:
- "Seventh Seal" 300mm Cannon: A howitzer capable of both direct and indirect fire support, on a traveling mount that moves it from the Gehenna's back to its shoulder. It fires various shells ranging from standard high-explosive payloads to shock, incendiary/thermobaric, plasma, and various gases. It's slow to reload, but very long-range and supremely powerful, the largest gun that can be mounted on a mech and still feasibly move.
- x4 Nebula-class CIWS: Rotating-barrel laser weapons, two built into the head and the others built into the palms. The Nebulas are multiple purposes, able to automatically track and destroy incoming missiles or being aimed manually for use against infantry and thin-skinned vehicles.
- Arash Rail Rifle: A long range railgun used for medium targets. If it's too tough for the Nebulas but doesn't warrant the Seventh Seal, it's shot by this.
- Melee???
Equipment:
The Gehenna is a tempting target due to its size, relatively slow traversal, and sheer firepower. While it's well-armored and of solid construction it's not a brawler and will not last if pitted against coordinated enemies. It survives by staying behind friendly forces, serving as fire support before moving to rip apart any isolated foes. Most of its defenses are active, misleading, or destroying enemy missiles while deploying shields and smokescreens to deter projectile or energy weapons.
- Phalanx Integrated Shielding: The Gehenna's thick armor is fortified by an energy field, strengthening it against attack and preventing hull breaches.
- Decoy Dones: Simple drones that produce a disproportionately large amount of sensory information, leading enemy attacks away from the MECH when used in conjunction with other systems.
- Avoidance Systems: Flares, brilliant sand, and hot smoke canisters allow the Gehenna to throw up a defensive screen when under attack. Additionally, it can use its Stealth System to lower its profile on enemy sensors.
- Sensor Package: A standard audio/visual sensor set, capable but not outstanding.
Other info: