CHARACTER INDEX The Ρɧoεɳιx Nebula [group RP] [profiles]

muffinphobia

dancing witch
Original poster
OKmu362.png


CREATORS: Pigiron and muffinphobia
GRAPHICS: Pigiron
STATUS: open/accepting applications
GENRE: science fiction/adventure with a sprinkle of horror
LITERACY LEVEL: semi-lit to lit



Main thread | Interest thread | Test/drafting thread | Profile thread
 
Last edited:

muffinphobia

dancing witch
Original poster
___________________the new resistance
t h e xx c h a r a c t e r s


Name: Gabi Burnett
Age: 27
Race: 1/4 human and 3/4 Dina Amor
Home system/planet/town: Belmare (town) on the planet Zhar
Chosen ship: The Cotopaxi
Rank: First officer (specializes in piloting small crafts, hacking, and working behind the scenes to ensure security)
Personality: Stubborn, opinionated, and can come off as a bit unfriendly, but those who win her loyalty have it for life. Her loved ones are the center of her universe, and she would do anything to protect them. Enjoys letting loose occasionally, in which case all bets are off.
Bio: Gabi was born to Jekyll Burnett and Stefon Ricmous in the early days of the old Resistance's conflict with the Empire. Her uncle, Hyde Burnett Sr, is the original leader of the Resistance, though he is currently retired. She has a twin, Hyde Jr. (notoriously known as Elazar these days), though she keeps this fact hidden from everyone. The Khivux took her parents from her at the age of nine, and from there she and her brother were raised by their uncle (or Zama in Dina). She had a unique childhood growing up on The Cotopaxi, and when she turned 18 she chose to remain aboard to help her uncle and the crew fight the threat of the Khivux. About six years ago Hyde Jr. defected, though nobody knows the full story, and certainly they don't know that he became Elazar. After her twin disappeared, Gabi became more withdrawn and wary to trust others than before.

With her brother gone and her uncle permanently exiled on Zhar as part of the Galactic peace summit of 5026, Gabi has spent the last several years feeling lost and purposeless. Somehow, helping her uncle when he needed it turned into a legacy and a legend that she feels she shoulders alone. She has started to resent it somewhat, and is starting to understand why her brother ran from it. She rarely tells anyone her last name these days. Most of her free time over the last two years has been spent bouncing from planet to planet on the edge of the galaxy, doing low-profile espionage work, when she stumbled across something startling: the Empire was starting to recruit again. She went straight to Hyde with this knowledge, who helped her put together a crew, some new faces and some old, quietly. They've been countering this move by the Empire in as much secret as they can, and two months ago her new captain sent her to find The Cotopaxi, which had been lost after the summit.

For weapons, she carries a knife of Dina origin that her father left to her, her uncle's old blaster, and a disruptor rifle that her brother helped her build. (Click here if you'd like to read the expanded version of her bio.)
Appearance:
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Puppet master: muffinphobia

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Name: Perseus Galatea
Age: 26
Race: Lustrian
Home system/Planet/town: A larger residential district on Lustre called Araforge. He grew up in his father's property, which is several floors of one of the nicer habitation towers.
Chosen ship: The Cotopaxi
Rank: Chief Engineer
Personality:
Direct and Unsubtle: Perseus does not stand on ceremony and says what he thinks when asked. Certainly not a yes man. This has got him in trouble before. Perseus also tends not to keep secrets and is terrible at lying, and knows it. Terrible at poker.
Collaborative: Perseus loves to teach, to show people things and make connections over shared knowledge. He loves the feeling of a plan coming together and has long dreamt of building a ship with a group of friends or colleagues.
Trouble-shooter: Perseus is a problem addict. If there is an issue that piques his interest, he's been known to only take breaks to sleep.

Perseus Galatea, son of Orion and Layla Galatea. Half Lustrian, half human. With a father known far and wide as a famous inventor, diplomat and war hero, Perseus has been living in a great man's shadow his entire life. Growing up as the eldest of four, especially after his mother was lost to the Khivux, felt like a constant struggle for his father's attention. However, regardless how busy he was, Orion still had time for all his children. No project was so important that Orion couldn't take the time to read his children a bedtime story every night. Ophiuchus, the second eldest, is Perseus' only brother. He was touted as a genius from a very young age and works on Lustre developing materials to be used in megastructures. Aquila and Libra are the two youngest: twin sisters that got into spacecraft tuning and racing at 17 and have broken numerous realspace speed records since.
Naturally, Perseus felt a lot of pressure early in his life to be extraordinary, with such talented family surrounding him. His brother and sisters found fame and acclaim in various fields at ridiculously young ages, so Perseus felt like a failure for not being a supergenius.
Eventually Perseus found what he thought was his calling; becoming a Lustrian shipwright, a role that blends ship engineering and development.
After a strenuous six years he graduated from his studies, and job offers came in droves. Great expectations were placed on him from all directions; his professors, the organisation he joined, even his family were blowing up his comms with messages that read like congratulations but felt like deadlines. Rapidly the dream became a nightmare. Desperation to be exceptional became paralyzing fear; perfectionism strangling ideas in their cribs; anxiety reaching a fever pitch. Trouble sleeping. Mistakes. Mistakes that fed into stress that quickly turned to panic that fed into more mistakes until-
A big mistake. An oversight in a hull design that would have seen ships shear themselves in half well under redline stress. Between this and the compounded pattern of growing sloppiness, not even his family's reputation could save him. He washed out. Washed up. Burned out at 24.
He couldn't face his family. Not as a failure.

A few months of failed job searching later, and a frazzled Perseus had gained a reputation as the black sheep of the Galatea family. Where the rest of the family turns everything they touch to gold, everything Perseus touched turned to shit.
Eventually, Perseus found himself on Universal Basic Income, hiding out in a backwater fish-farm town, the habitation towers stinking of saltwater. Perseus fell into the habit of drowning his sadness, contemplating what might have been. It was a dark time.

Eventually though, his father tracked him down. They spoke deep into the night. Perseus cried. Orion cried. Eventually Perseus agreed to move back in with his father for a while, no matter how much it stung.

Later, he realised how close he had come to letting the bottles drown him.

No longer paralyzed by the spectre of failure, having already hit rock bottom, Perseus looked for simple, honest work.
On his 25th birthday, he left the Galatea household once again. But this time, he travelled up.
The orbital salvage yard was happy to have a graduate. they usually took washouts from Engineering academia. In turn, Perseus found a place where he could prove his competency in an environment that felt positively low stress, even when he was juggling reactors on the cusp of meltdown. He found friends there. People he didn't have to worry about expecting the impossible from him. He could do good work, cutting up those old ships. Steadily, self-worth began to take root. His knowledge of ships and their architecture, from the computers to the plumbing, made his yard the most productive in orbit.

Still, every now and again, Perseus pauses in his work, and gazes up at the stars, thinking about what it would be like to build something, and ride out to dance amongst them.

- Eight spider drones, down from the usual twelve. Now nestled in their charging nooks in his backpack, the little drones were built with two laser cutter legs, four multitool legs (containing the basics like pliers, screwdrivers, electrojacks, etc), and two manoeuvre thruster legs. The little guys took months of training to learn, and it took years of practice to learn to control more than one or two at a time. Perseus was proud of his abilities, but he'd seen people orchestrate the actions of thirty of them at a time, not to mention the AI-controlled swarms you sometimes found out in the lawless fringe systems.
- One plasma cutter, magnetically attached to his left outer thigh. Capable of firing a thin plasma beam that, in the space of a few minutes, could cut through most types of ship hull and structural elements. The cutter had some issues with certain types of armour, that usually required deconstruction from the inside, but it got the job done where the Spider-drones' little cutters couldn't manage.
- One grav-grapple, magnetically attached to his right outer thigh. Able to pull Perseus and another solid object toward each other (if used on a very heavy object, it would pull Perseus toward the object, a light object would get pulled toward Perseus, and an object about the same weight would meet Perseus in the middle.)
- An extended-spectrum Analyser HUD, built into his helmet, with capability to switch to three views aside from standard: Infrared (for heat sources), gravimetric (for density and mass measurements, as well as the visualizations of artificial gravitational fields) and Spectrometer (to get an idea of the materials he was observing, at a glance).

Appearance:
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Puppet master: Pigiron

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ASA VRISK

Name: Asa Vrisk

Age: 28

Race: Vulutian

Home Planet: Mila I - Apart from a few frozen lakes and rivers, Mila I is dry. Tall mountains rise toward the sky and the rocky outcroppings in the valleys below are dotted with grey grasses. Vulutians make their homes inside caves.

Chosen ship: :)

Rank: :)

Personality: Asa, simply known as Vrisk by enemies and lovers alike, exists in shades of grey. He doesn't see himself as the hero or the villain, and exists to facilitate the means to an end for others as long as he gets paid. Vrisk disguises his shrewd nature with a thick layer of natural charm that disarms most people before they're aware. Patient and adaptable, he works well under pressure and is difficult to rattle.

Bio: Selected by Priestesses assisting with the Directive, Vrisk was one of only a dozen boys to call Mila-I "home" within the last fifty years. Making a life within the caves and overseen by the Sisters, Vrisk was fanatically devoted to and enamored with Oa and her teachings. He wholeheartedly believed that the Vulutians were sent to uplift the rest of the galaxy and that they were natural evolution of a brilliant mind. While under the care of the Sisters, he learned how to blend in with a crowd, influence people, evade suspicion and master his pheromone signature.

At the age of sixteen, Vrisk, like all other students of the Sisters, was taken to the Stones of Tamori to await judgement. In a secret ceremony, the stones are said to light up around a student who is part of a prophecy, as they did for Mother Afsa when she herself was a student. On a cold night, overcast with a meteor shower, Vrisk came to the unfortunate realization that he was not special, that he was not destined for something greater, when the monolithic stones and their delicate carvings remained dark as night.

With his worldview shattered, Vrisk left Mila-I within the next year, skipping out on his mandatory military service and becoming a wanted criminal. He traveled aboard several ships and worked several more odd jobs in order to procure board and safe passage. He was somewhere in his early twenties when he fell into work for an information broker and suddenly, all of the things he'd been taught by the Sisters finally became useful. He wasn't some grand scholar, nor was he the first Priest in a millennia, but he was somebody important. Finally.

Appearance: Vrisk is 6'5" and willowy. His almond-shaped eyes are a purple-grey color, framed by dusky lashes and topped by a weighty, manicured brow. His natural, grey hair is stylish, soft and fine to the touch. He has a cat-like smile that some would call a smirk that makes him look more devious than handsome on the off chance that he shows his sharp teeth while grinning.

Aside from the obvious, Vrisk's most notable features are the delicate, black tattoos that run down the center of his body from just beneath his chin to just above his pelvis. These tattoos are almost fifteen years old and point to his time with the Sisters. If asked about them, he is known to tell lies about their meaning or deny that he has any tattoos at all despite how large the markings are.

Puppet master: neptune
Code by Jenamos


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Name: Reginald Meadows

Age: 39

Race: Human

Home system/Planet/town: Orion - 57: City of Tander

Chosen ship: The Cotopaxi

Rank: Chief Medical Officer

Personality: Older than he ought to be. Least, that's how he sees it. Says that a lot too and is a damn dab hand at poker. Wry smoker but is a straight enough shooter when he's on the operating table and he's bloody in charge of that. Got two ears too so if you need to talk, he'll listen more than yammer.

Bio:
Reginald Meadows felt he led a fairly standard life for most of his life. Most of it… Lived in the core worlds. In his youth, he sought to become a medical researcher. A doctor even. With schooling and time, Reginald successfully got there when he was thirty years old. By then, he was married. Marian. Two kids already growing up on his income working in a pharmacy and Marian's job as a HR secretary, Jeremiah and Delilah. With his doctorate and experience in hand, family supporting him, and the future seeming wide open, despite the continuing Khivux invasion and the continued Paranoia War, Reginald launched applications across the planet.

After an exceptionally long background check, Reginald was accepted in as a medical researcher and Doctor at the Golden Emblem facility and hospital. At the time, he assumed the extensive check was due to the war. After all, sleeper agents could be anywhere. At the time. He dug into his work with gusto. Eager to be a part of the front that sought for a cure for the parasite plague. That was how he saw it, anyway.

Marian died. Reginald looks at a picture of his family. The one memento of his old life.

After the war came to a close and the accords signed, Reginald hoped for an era of peace to raise his two kids in. He lost himself in the task. Work becoming mindless and family becoming what he lived for. Yet, as the months went by, he gradually began to notice that his research projects, his work, drifted away from healing. From helping people. Suddenly, Reginald found himself neck deep in weapons research. And not just any. Biological terror. Doomsday devices to spread plague across entire systems. Some of death. Some, taking inspiration from the parasite, to dominate minds. Contingency devices. Every galactic entity had them. Right? That's what his superiors claimed, though he didn't ask them. Not directly. Reginald had enough sense to know that drawing too much attention to himself with questions was likely enough to draw the attention of Imperial Intelligence. And he had no desire to do that. His family would be safe, he felt, but not himself.

He could not remain, sadly. Not in good conscious. Nor, his gut whispered, could he simply back out. Reginald had seen too many classified files for too long to be allowed that. There was only one thing to do. Very carefully, Reginald began making contacts outside of the facility. Black market contacts. There he found an information broker and, after discerning the individuals capabilities and relative integrity, defected. Destroying countless databanks of information on his way out. While he assumed that everything had been backed up anyway, he hoped to slow the continued research into such horrific projects. After being sequestered safely away into the Resistance, the broker in question went to ground. For Reginald's part, if he's ever asked what he did before joining up, he feigns that he sold his memory of it to the broker as payment for getting out. Leaving his own mind blank about the affair. So long as the broker remains hidden and isolated from all communication, the truth will remain buried. Hopefully.

The man carries around his trauma kit whenever he's not in the medical facilities of The Cotopaxi. A picture of his family and a pack of cigarettes. Not much else. Fellow's not the fighting type.

Appearance:
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Puppet master: Verran

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Name: Blaster (nicknamed Aster)
Age: ???
Race: Science experiment gone off the rails. He was a fox once upon a time, but rounds and rounds of testing later and he appears to have a functioning humanoid brain, as he has the ability to talk and and to think critically. Sort of.
Home system/Planet/town: A science lab on Pertcann-9, a moon known for its seedy practices in trade.
Chosen ship: The Cotopaxi
Rank: Explosives expert
Personality: The best word to describe Aster is probably unhinged. He has a one-track mind in the sense that he's madly in love with bombs and all things explosive, which often puts the lives of his crew at risk, whether they know it or not. When he's not talking shop (which is rare) he can usually be found ridiculing someone to tears or cracking himself up with his own jokes. Deep, deep underneath all of that, however, is a creature who loves his friends dearly. Not that he'd ever say it to your face, moron.
Bio: Aster is unable to remember his life prior to waking up in that lab. His first memories are of unimaginable pain and suffering, which probably has a lot to do with the caustic asshole he's known to be today. At some point he was able to piece together the source of the pain: a team of AI scientists were attempting to create cyborgs housed in a human-animal hybrid body, and he was the butt of it all. Literally. Don't ask. His liberation came in the form of the New Resistance. They arrived on Pertcann-9 to trade, initially, but they also did damage where they could in the sentient beings rights department. This included decommissioning the AI where he was housed and running like hell before anyone important noticed. The first person he saw as he stepped outside the lab was none other than Gabi Burnett, and he latched onto her like a leech to a dumbass kid running through the sprinklers. Ever since then the fox has been living on Zhar and "helping out," if you could call it that. He was the first to volunteer when word got around that The Cotopaxi needed a new crew. After all, who knows what kind of fun toys he can find in space. For weapons, Aster is never without his satchel full of various explosives, and a shortsword that's modified to cut through different types of metal. He is very, very bad at wielding it, and often does more damage than good. He also has a cybernetic arm, as he lost one during testing.
Appearance:
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Puppet master: muffinphobia

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Name: Cirele Putt

Age: 45

Race: Human

Home system/Planet/town: Gliar 5 – Fifth planet in the Gliar system, it's atmosphere is typical of human inhabited planets. Other than being part of the Empire, there's not much notable about it and mostly serves as a middle-class residential planet.

Chosen ship: Hi-Pixel - Independently owned space shuttle. Seats four comfortably and can be flown by one person with an array of communications and recording equipment, perfect for reporters.

Rank: Civilian, Ex-military, Investigative Reporter

Personality: Persistent- 'The trademark of a good reporter' as Cirele puts it. She doesn't let obstacles stop her from getting the scoops she wants. Whether it's guards, clearance levels, access cards, or going to a world without breathable air, she'll still find a way in.

Detail-orientated - Always focuses on details, Cirele will dog people with questions to get as much out of them as possible.

Truth-seeker - Cirele threw out the notion of Resistance vs Navy, Empire vs Freedom and focuses on trying to find stories where she can, meaning she tries to stay neutral. The flip side of this is that she also doesn't mind selling each side out to each other as long as it helps her get information.

Bio: An ex-Navy woman who quit the Navy during the Paranoia War to instead become a reporter, often reporting from the frontlines or investigating restricted areas. At the start, she used her Navy contacts to get restricted access to outposts and planets other civilians couldn't go normally. This helped her boost her stories with exclusive facts and pictures no other reporter could get.

Cirele would use this edge for years before realizing she could do more with this and would sneak some Navy military secrets out in exchange for leverage on non-Empire planets. Thus Cirele threw out any allegiances to planets or empires or rulers and devoted her life to seeking out story after story, exchanging favor for favor for exclusive.

Now years since she was first publishing her articles, 'The Putt-om Line' (somehow that caught on), she's gotten a reputation for her investigative reporting and now hops all over the universe to cover all kinds of stories. Over the course of her career she's curried favors with the Empire, the resistance planets, and even the scum and villainy of the universe in order to get the scoops. And now she's banking on all that to cover what she hopes to be one of her biggest articles:

The fate of the famed Resistance ship, the Cotopaxi!!

As a civilian, Cirele does not carry any military weaponry, but does carry a self-defense stun ray. Her main pieces of equipment are of course her camera and her squadron of custom camera drones that accompany her to all scoop sites. Her ship, the Hi-pixel also houses an array of disguises, fake IDs, and stockpiled clearance codes and ship ID beacons for when she may not be allowed in the area.

Appearance:
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Puppet master: Presea_cousin

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Name: Tyko Tarzi [Boy Blue/Blue/ T]

Age: 4th Cycle [24]

Race: Cybernetically Enhanced Simulacrum [Undercover Lustrian]

Home system/Planet/town: Originator X-51 Mobile

Chosen ship: The Cotopaxi

Rank: Custodian [On public records], Weapons Specialist [New Resistance Contract]

Personality:
Empathetic; Has a strong desire to emotionally understand others, his brothers, co-workers, rivals and even enemies. Understanding is not the same as leniency for ones actions as Tyko will still follow through on missions or orders if necessary.
Hard Worker; Goes the extra mile to ensure a job gets done. Tends to overwork themselves and will sometimes skips breaks if a task was behind schedule.
Curious; A strong enjoyment of learning anything unfamiliar to him. He frequently improves on new skills by just watching people in their day to day tasks. Sometimes if he has time he will practice on his own or ask someone if he can just sit and watch.


Like all Simulacrum created after the peace summit, S5028's(Year of creation) home was the Originator X-51 Mobile. Under the post-war concessions, the Simulacrum Legion had to come to the terms of being entities of war but having none to fight. Thus little boy blue was part of a generation of Simulacrum who's curriculum was not just the different ways of murdering a sapient creature. Humanities, political sciences, and communications were all added to the lesson plan, with other races offering their services as teachers. Like all Simulacrum, Blue had a natural affinity for physical activities, but a genetic mutation caused him to empathically attach himself to any creature. In his 1st cycle (6 years old), he cried when the class pet passed and insisted they hold a funeral for it at Akkanar's Cairn in Dinaxis. Making a petition, he acquired enough signatures from his cycle mates (and a few amused older brothers) that it reached office but did not go far to reach the Consulate. Blue decided to perform a small ceremonial rite, that those who signed participated in.
In his 2nd cycle (12 years old), when they began more advance combat training, his cycle mates recall with amusement on how he would have snot and tears running down his face as he completely overwhelm their opposing teams during simulations. Earning his nickname, he would cry but he will get it done through the tears.

In this cycle he will also gained a strong bond with Doctor Jeritza Tarzi, a Lustrian cyberneticist/bio-engineer assisting the Legion with overcoming some of their more detrimental mutations. The aging process and their reliance on frigid temperatures are the main subjects he was tasked with tackling, but despite approval from the Consulship to begin his work, he faced heavy resistance and criticism from some of the Simulacrum aboard the X-51 Mobile. Many believed that these 'mutations' are what defines them, despite their origin stemmed in war. They created a unique culture, that became more than Dina or Empire and while difficult they still took pride in it. For the first time (5029), the Simulacrum was caught in a cultural civil debate.

From this debate Blue became more certain he wanted to explore and experience the world not chained to a heavy suit. While his cycle mates were ready for their 3rd cycle(18) and their fitting for their ICE SHELLS, Blue thought of it as waiting for his new cell. He would bring this up to Jeritza, brainstorming ideas excitedly why the Lustrian worked. Eventually a group of embolden Simulacrum came to Jeritza's lab to destroy his work. Claiming that Jeritza's was a spy sent to cybernetically enslave them back to the Empire, they set fire to the lab with the scientist still inside. Blue would arrive just in time to find Jeritza, but while escorting him out of lab the intense blazed was too much for him and eventually he went through hyperthermia and blacked out.

He would wake within the Originator's chambers; submerged in one of the various tubes that birth him. Suffering from 4th degree burns with both the epidermis and dermis damaged across his body, he was practically skinless. While the X-51 Mobile is the leading edge in cloning, no amount of skin grafting was sufficient enough with the doctors final verdict. Even while on the X-51 he would have to be confined in a ICE SHELL, as the burns caused his thermoregulation to be almost non existent, making it difficult to cool off in even normal circumstances. They tried not to remark on how leaving the X-51 might not even be a viable option, but Blue felt it in their tone. Blue was devastated and despondent. He gotten visits from his cycle mates, teachers and even both Consuls showed up. He could only listen, on how brave he was, how things will be better, how he should proud. The Consuls confirmed the arrest of those involved and insisted that at his 3rd cycle he would be awarded honors that will be etched into his very shell. He did not care, he tried but it felt like consolation for never being able to see outside this station.

That's when Jeritza arrived. Covered in bandages himself, he seemed to fare better. The Lustrian sat with him in silence before crying, a promise that he will fix this. With that final remark, it wasn't until the start of his 3rd cycle that Jeritza returned to his room, but this time with one of the Consuls. They offer him a chance to live off ship, without a shell, completely unhindered from his injuries. Blue felt there was a tension of what was not being said, but he did not care, he took it. He was moved into a separate chambered, unmarked with only a few Simulacrum to watch over him. There Jeritza began his work, under the watchful gaze of the Consul. The dreams he experienced in the long drug induced sleep were incomprehensible to him and when he came out of it, forgotten. In those 3 days and nights however, he was born anew.

First thing he felt waking up was... tautness. It wasn't like his skin peeling or painful, just... tight. He blinked, …again tight. He blinked some more before realizing that fact he was blinking at all shouldn't be possible. The operation was a success; Jeritza looked absolutely exhausted but a smile still colored his face as he gave Blue a chance to look at his new form. Both his epidermis and dermis had been completely replaced with crafted cybernetic skin. The once pale skin, now speckled gold. Bronze mesh outline sections of his body, with copper green pieces of metal placed within specific areas of the skin. At one point these green pieces makes a noise, as what seems like steam get's release from it. It was then the Consul spoke up;

"Doctor Tarzi, believes it will take a year to complete your physical therapy, and to learn about the maintenance required of you in your new.... skin. I believe that this therapy should be done off-station."

Blue, still in bed, tried his best to give his leader undivided attention as his mind raced with what was happening. He gave quick glances to Jeritza who seem to give a tired, sad smile. "As you know, coming of the 3rd cycle is a special occasion for our people. Fittings for your shell and your first contract. Oaths will be taken as is custom for the future of our people, you will have some exceptions to this" The consul revealed to Blue his mission. He would be undercover as Jeritza's blood and become his security detail. The consul also revealed the doctor's affiliation with the resistance and how it was paramount to the stability of the Legion, that the two of them have minimum contact with the X-51 Mobile.

Blue's ceremonies where private and only a selected few were able to be there; Jeritza Tarzi, Consul Sero, and a Simulacrum that Blue had to designate as his support line. This Simulacrum will be the only one who know of his task outside the present party and would be bound to keep it a secret, while maintaining a healthy dialogue with his brother. Blue made the decision that adding anyone else would add unnecessary risk and stress to his cycle-mates/brother who looking forward to their future. With humility he requested the Consul himself be the support line and with a wistful look, Consul Sero accepted.

As promised his ICE SHELL was marked with the deeds and sacrifices he made in his 2nd cycle. With a heavy heart, Sero explained this would possible be the last time he would step on the X-51 until the Legion stabilized itself, but he would always be family no matter the distance.

So for the rest of his 3rd cycle Blue, now Tyko Tarzi, return to Lustre with his adoptive father Jeritza Tarzi. He spent most of the year going through physical therapy and acclimating to Lustre's climate and culture. Consul Sero was diligent in not only responding to the youngest calls for advice but sometimes would call just to check on his progress. Eventually Sero became akin to a doting but distant father than one of the leaders of the greatest military ground forces in the galaxy. While his martial training took a backseat in this year, he was exposed to more cultural phenomena then he could possible know of on the X-51. He also came in contact with great minds such as Orion Galatea, who assisted him and his father in maintaining his cybernetic skin. Eventually he fully recovered and at the start of his 4th cycle his second mission was revealed to him. The contract came from Hyde Burnett Sr, who tasked him with the safety of the Cotopaxi and it's crew. Providing him with the contacts and equipment necessary to prep, the not-so retired leader began to reinforce the fact the new resistance does not exist. So not only he got his first mission, but an undercover one at that! Tyko was excited but took note on how the pieces were put in place to get to this point.

Regardless, Tyko was ready to finally be part of a group again and most importantly finally explore the galaxy!


Equipment:

Utility Belt: Apt in name, this leather belt coated in a durable resin, contains most of what Tyko uses to quickly maintain the health of the ship and it's crew. From welding tools, to first aid amenities, this belt is useful enough to maintain a stabilized situation so those with actual skills can properly fix the problem.

Baby Blue(ICE SHELL/Environmental Suit): Lighter and less dense than the average Simulacrum Shell, this suit is still considered military grade and advanced by market standards. While the base was crafted with the synthetic alloy at X-51, the maintenance and subsequent upgrades were all done at Lustre. Under guidance from Orion Galatea, it went through many changes within 2 years. Supporting it's own climate control, setting it down within an in close space for a time(30 minutes-1 hour) will eventually make the temperature match that of comfortability for Tyko. It can withstand most standardized weapons on the market with little damage, but military grade weapons are known to punch through with a minimum of 5-7 shots. As such, acceleration/deceleration became integrated to it's design, taking inspiration between the shells Akkanar's Blood are fitted with. Outfitted with a magnetic gravity condenser on the soles and palms, Tyko can essentially defend himself or the ship in the vacuum of space. An ironic deep blue in color, it currently has etched in a gold filigree;

On the helm is a crown of Dinaxis leaves wrapped around before stopping a centimeter above the visual screen of the suit. Called the Crown of the Preserver in Dina, The Legion has made this an honorary award to those who protected a citizen or an ally of the Legion. Awarded by Consul Seros for Tyko's response in saving Jeritza and the sacrifice he went through.

Astral Multi Series X: A gift received from the Consul on his 4th cycle. An energy weapon that has three settings of engagement built in. The first is a densely compact pistol that fires heavy shots that can knock most creatures over. Surprisingly powerful, without stabilizers/powerful physique a shot fired in this form can caused bruising or hairline fractures for the user in question. The second is the standard rifle and is typically in use the most. A burst fire of 3 shots that both sear and cauterized, Tyko has a habit of using it to hotfix something when he doesn't have his welding tools on him. The third form has it elongate into a sniper rifle, mostly suitable for combat in the vacuum in space. The beam that shoots in this form mostly interferes with the controls of standardize fighter vessels, just a highly concentrated electromagnetic shot.

Encrypted Communication Device: Directly link to a similar device that Consul Sero of the Simulacrum Legion holds, it's Tyko's only line to the X-51 Mobile and a Simulacrum. Most Legion Simulacrum gets one issued to them when they take a contract that requires them work without another of their kind. With 24 layers of encryption, it one of the most protected items on Tyko's person.



Appearance:
Tyko_Tarzi.png

Puppet master: [Tutari]
 
Last edited by a moderator:

muffinphobia

dancing witch
Original poster
____________________the imperial navy
t h e xx c h a r a c t e r s


Name: Elazar (birth name: Hyde Burnett Jr.)
Age: 27
Race: 1/4 human and 3/4 Dina Amor
Home system/planet/town: Belmare (town) on the planet Zhar
Chosen ship: The INS Ophelia
Rank: Weapons master (specializes in a particularly brutal form of Dina combat known as pavitara laraku)
Personality: Elazar is elusive and difficult to understand. He rarely speaks to anyone unless it's out of complete necessity. In his spare time, he keeps to himself, either training or working in weapons research. His temper is quick to flare up and best to be avoided at all costs. His vendetta against the New Resistance seems strangely personal....
Bio: Elazar was born as Hyde Burnett Jr. in the early days of the old Resistance's conflict with the Empire. He keeps his birth name close to his chest, as he was named after the old Resistance's leader, and is in fact his nephew. He has a twin, Gabi, but this is another fact about his life that nobody in the Empire knows. The story of his defecting to the Navy is highly classified. All anyone knows is that one day, the Emperor himself assigned the young man to The INS Ophelia, and from there he climbed the ranks quickly on his own. Most people tend to avoid him as a result, and he's just fine with that. For weapons, he carries a knife of Dina origin that his father left him, a pulse cannon, and a vibro double-blade. (If you'd like to read the classified version for your benefit (not your character's :) ) then click here.)
Appearance:
MQXAsSy.jpg
(under the mask)
Puppet master: muffinphobia

---​

Name: Bernadette Angstrom
Age: 36 (Born 21/11/4994) (yes that doesn't add up, read the biography)
Race: Mainline Human, approx 55% Cybernetic
Home system/Planet/town: Born on LMX-17533-3, A formerly independent mining planet run by a Lustrian slaver family, until the Empire liberated the planet.
At the age of eight, was taken in to Imperial custody and moved to Juliet-86, a mid-size empire colony, where she spent the rest of her childhood before joining the Imperial Navy.
Chosen ship: The INS Ophelia
Rank: Captain
Personality:
Principled. Loyal to the Empire, to her loyal crew, and loyal to her family. In that order.
Dispassionately Equitable. Understands that a tyrant can be feared, a parent can be loved, but a captain must be both. Even-handed with positive and negative reinforcement. Ensures her crew are well paid and their families taken care of. Ensures that any disloyalty is caught and punished without mercy. Has dossiers on all crew members uploaded to the valuable and limited space on her FLPU, available with a thought.
Justified. Understands the critical nature of her mission on a bone deep level. The empire must find the Phoenix Nebula, at any cost.
Decisive. Understands that inaction is just as much a choice as action.

The orphan girl saw a falling star.
Bernadette was born in the mud of a drainage ditch, to two slaves squatting amongst the filth. Her mother died. Her father lived, for another six years.
It shined bright orange as it fell.
The Lustrian family, a hundred strong, had been expelled from their people's systems. They turned to slavery, found a half-habitable rock, and began turning misery into profit.
It was joined by another. Then another.
They knew of humans, their people having recently made contact. They mistakenly believed that humans cared only about themselves and their immediate family. Easy slave population.
Soon the whole sky was ablaze with falling stars, hurtling to the earth.
They had intercepted a few traders and colony ships and killed anyone who seemed to be headstrong enough to lead a revolt.
The slaver's ships, far off on the other side of the encampment, started trying to take off, one after the other.
They didn't count on the Empire.
The slaver's ships, one after the other, folded and crumpled with a flash of light, like god had slapped them back to the earth.
Bernadette's first memory was seeing the Imperial navy assaulting the slaver's habitat.
It was far off, but the girl could hear the slavers screaming about something. Amnesty? Immunity?
She still remembers it with a smile.
The gold people didn't get amnesty, or immunity. They got what they deserved.
The Empire had arrived.


At eight years old, Bernadette was recovered from the slaver settlement and transferred to Juliet-86, a mid-size Imperial colony. She worked hard to catch up to her peers in schooling, and was noted by Imperial scientists for her dedication to the Empire. Soon, she was groomed as an imperial agent, given many augmentative treatments while she grew up. Eventually, what once was stunted and starved was moulded into a weapon of war. Navy scientists lavished her with all the most cutting edge and questionably moral improvements they had the ability to give, and the most successful part of it all? Bernadette was on board. She had figured it out from the age of fourteen, shortly after her discovery of state-approved super-soldier comic books. She had confronted her guardian and... Asked how she could help.

At sixteen, with the Empire's expansion now in full swing, Bernadette agreed to sign up for the Imperial Navy. After being put into an intensive training regimen for two years straight, Bernadette graduated top of her class, and was earmarked for field command.
However, days before Bernadette celebrated her 18th birthday, new orders came in. A new threat had reared it's head, threatening not only the Empire, but all sapient life in the galaxy.
The Khivux.
For eight hard years, Bernadette was attached to a specialist team stationed in rapid response black-ops light cruiser called the INS Ophelia. She led a fire team, sent to burn other elite squads that had been overtaken by the Khivux.

In late 5020, just after Bernadette celebrated her 26th birthday, The two remaining black ops ships, The Ophelia and the Troubadour, were given new commands. The Empire was losing the war, even after signing a truce with every scumbag, criminal and resistance member in the galaxy, they were losing. The Black ops ships were sent out to the far reaches of space, in two different directions, to track down advanced civilizations and desperately beg, borrow or steal any weapon that would be effective against the Khivux.
The Troubadour's story is known throughout the galaxy. They succeeded, at the cost of their lives.
The Ophelia's story, not so.
For five months, the crew of the Ophelia searched the dark reaches of the Ordaeus galaxy. Turning over every rock. Following up on leads centuries cold. Growing steadily more desperate as the messages from the Empire became more and more urgent.
But on in their sixth month of searching, in early 5021, they found something. Something old.

A great meteorite, with a temple hewn into its very rock It lazily orbited a black hole, and due to time dilation, Every two minutes investigating the temple was a month for the rest of the galaxy. The crew of the Ophelia had to be quick. The Captain led Bernadette and the rest of the crew in a frantic search of the temple. They found an archaeologist's shuttle amongst the ancient stone, along with ideograms tall as a person, on a maze of walls tall enough that even with a flashlight it was impossible to see the roof. But in their haste, the crew of the Ophelia had become sloppy.
They didn't realize that the Khivux had arrived here first.
The Archaeologist's shuttle had defrosted its occupant upon spotting movement. One by one the crew, devoted to searching what they thought was an abandoned rock, were picked off in the maze of ideograms.
The last things Bernadette remembered was feeling a tiny prick as the captain injected her with something, unconsciousness coming so quickly she couldn't bite down on the capsule her tongue pushed from her teeth.

The Ophelia returned to Empire space, it's crew now slaves to the Khivux. But when they arrived, two and a half years had passed.
The war was a lot different to the desperate situation the Ophelia had left. The Troubadour had been successful. The Mindfire toxin was being used to cleanse ships and worlds of Khivux. The crew felt the Khivux in their brains seethe with fury.

For two years, the Ophelia performed tactical strikes on facilities producing the toxin, working it's way through empire space, burning and sabotaging as they went. The ship got far, but eventually, the Khivux running the Ophelia ran out of luck.
The ship was assaulted by no less than three heavy cruisers. Boarded, it's mind controlled crew brought to heel with Mindfire toxin.

When she came to, Bernadette was in a laboratory. At first, she wondered if it had all been a dream, if they were running her through combat scenarios and she was still fifteen years old. Then she opened her... eye. One of her eyes was gone. She looked around, trying to move. And it all came flooding back as she realised only one of her four limbs remained. The months of forced traitorship, The awful feeling of being a passenger in her own body. The terrifying dread of having even her own mind used against her will.
The one thing that stopped her from breaking down altogether was the titanium-clad knowledge that the Empire had her back, and she was in a laboratory. There was a chance, however slim, that the Emperor still had use of her.

She was informed that she had been in a coma for over a year. Her right eye and brain had been damaged, and parts of her grey matter had been replaced by cutting edge cybernetics. It was called a Frontal Lobe Processing Unit, or FLPU. It was difficult, but she found a way to accept this. She could no longer remember the names and faces of her friends from boarding school, or her fellow graduates. Again, she accepted this.
She was told that the Empire scientists now had access to her inner-most thoughts, to observe the remaining effects of the Khivux, if any were present. She... paused, but after a moment she put aside her sense of privacy and accepted it. For the good of the Empire.

Over the next few months, the Navy scientists rebuilt her body. Top of the line bionic legs. An arm that was stronger than steel but able to transform, flowing like quicksilver into any shape she willed it. Finally her eye, they replaced her missing right eye with a bionic capable of seeing through a wide swathe of the EM spectrum.

Eventually, Bernadette was visited by none other than from War-Admiral Maddox Abbadon himself, mere weeks before the diplomatic summit he knew would end his career. It was all Bernadette could do not to throw herself at his feet.
Abaddon spoke of the sacrifices she had endured. Spoke of the admiralty's approval of her loyalty. Said her memories had exonerated her of any wrongdoing. Bernadette, standing at parade rest, swallowed as she fought back tears. It was more than she ever dared hope for.
Whats more, Abaddon proceeded to explain, she was being given command of the INS Ophelia. Her eyes widened slightly with surprise- And, as her first assignment, she was to stamp out the last vestiges of the Khivux, freeing their hosts from the torment she knew too well.
Her emotions almost got the better of her, but instead she stood, stock still, and without a waver to her voice, she nodded and curtly stated "Yes sir."

Now, in the fulminant times of 5032, Captain Angstrom has recieved the Ophelia's latest orders.
"proceed to investigate the source of the Mindfire toxin, thought to be the location known in local folklore as The Phoenix nebula. Secrecy is critical in this operation. News that the Empire is searching for the Phoenix Nebula may cause the mutual defence treaty of the free planets of Ordaeus coming into effect, which would mean the start of another long and bloody war."
And so under the command of Bernadette Angstrom, the INS Ophelia began to move.

Appearance:
Angstrom.png
Puppet master: Pigiron

---​


•Emergency Response and Assault Drone Model No. I-6

Name: i-6
Age: 2
Race: Robot
Planet: Lustre
Chosen Ship: INS Ophelia
Rank: Security Officer
Personality:
I-6's entire purpose is to safeguard the lives of the crewmembers of the INS Ophelia, with priority placed on members of the ship deemed invaluable by the Empire. As such, i-6 is a very duty bound individual, loyal to it's purpose and those around it. The security AI installed on the bot is also a very curious one. It doesn't question it's design, but often wonders about the extent of its life and capabilities. It would never place these inquiries over his directives however. As I-6 does not sleep, the robotic mind's latest fascination is with the idea of dreams and whether or not they can be experienced fully in the current form.
Biography:

Brought to life in a restricted lab on Lustre, I-6 started out as the Emergency Response Survival Order, a coded AI from a collection of jilted scientists who disagreed with the planet's political favoring of the resistance idealogy. Their thesis was simple: Freedom was a want, but order was a need. Stability and restrictions were what kept civilization from falling into complete anarchy. Many of the scientists feared their beloved nation reaching such a point, and thus banded together in the attempt to create a system that demonstrated the benefits and beliefs of their ideology.

Two years of working in secret brought forth the first iteration of ERSO. In those moments, the scientists saw their dream begin to form. In a perfect world, their AI would be capable of predicting injuries and life threatening situations before they happened, dispatching the proper resources ahead of time to save lives and possibly prevent the situation altogether. This was their primary case for the good that order brought, and a mission they wholeheartedly believed in. Unfortunately, the team's abilities often fell short of their aspirations. Passion could not replace skill, and continuous oversights in the programming led to a plethora of bugs and flaws that resulted in years of failed trials and wasted funds.

After a while, the pileup of failures in the program began to leave a sour taste in the mouths of those that worked on it. They still feared the possibility of an anarchist society, but they had become demoralized and disheartened in their efforts to get the system working right. A vote was taken, and the passion project was set to be scrapped. Fortunately, during the week of it's disposal, a last-minute suggestion was brought forth: rework its coding for the private security sector. The average everyman would never experience it, but those with deep pockets would find its' services as both security and medical highly valuable. Plus by installing it into machines on seperate lines and registering them to an individual or group, the system would be less likely to faulter under heavy load. This was a major point, as load was one of the main reasons for the AI's issues. This idea was understandably met with mixed reviews and arguments of passion vs profit After a week of debates, the proposal passed, creating a rift amongst the group. Those that disagreed with the idea walked out, leaving the majority that agreed on the sell with the keys to the programs future. With the benefits of monetary gain in mind, the ERSO AI was rewritten to include an Assault subdivision of coding; The market for a security drone was great, but adding in combat and assault capability would undoubtedly increase the profits tenfold.

Six months later, the first robot with the new Emergency Response and Assault system was created: I-6. A machine built to the highest standards of current robotics, the I-6 was a peerless technological marvel of engineering. However, before it could be released to the private security sector, it had to be tested in real situations. After countless calls and failed deals, the I-6 finally found a home: the INS Ophelia. It's not quite known who authorized the installation of such a volatile piece of equipment, but the Future of Security had found its first home. It was not a substitution for the security already in place, but instead operated as a jack-of-all-trades, applying it's services to security as well as the medical wing.

In the time I-6 has served aboard the Ophelia, it's service has gone without issue. Only time will tell what the future holds for it.

Equipment:
I-6's large frame houses many different kinds of tools. It's right arm can summon a hand cannon while it's left generates powerful energy based blast shields. Other tools include an EMP generator in it's chest and a heavy duty med kit installed into the spine on it's back. In the unlikely case I-6 has to fight off an attacker unarmed, it can split it's six limbs into twelve spiderlike appendages, increasing both speed and maneuverability.
Appearance:
I-6 has a rather plain humanoid face accompanied by a mechanical body coated in a black and marigold color. It stands approximately seven feet tall, and weighs around 1100 pounds. It has tried smiling and showing emotion in order to put those around it at ease, but was immediately reprimanded for terrifying the crew.
Puppet master:
Quake

---​

Name: Velshia Tordren

Age: 29

Race: Deskasra

Home system/Planet/town: Caldros System: 3rd​ Planet from the sun Velkof: Village Felshial. The Caldros System sits deep in the Shoe-Horn Nebula. A relatively new nebula that is particularly dense and difficult to navigate. Even with proper sensors. Here dwells the Deskasra. A people with mild, broad psionic sensing. Who were, when they rose to the heavens, able to gradually find their way out into the wider galaxy. Rapidly running into Imperial scientists who had long held the nebula as an exciting study of a fresh solar nursery. Their traditional ways and strict sense of duty rapidly integrated themselves into Imperial thinking. Always willing to step above and beyond to do their duty. Tragically, due to the comparatively advanced technology of the Empire, much of the traditional technology of the Deskasra has simply been lost.

Chosen ship: INS Ophelia

Rank: Head of Informatics and Computer Systems (Specializes in slicing both into computers and into minds due to history as an Imperial Agent.)

Personality: Velshia, Vel to her friends, is one of exceptional calm. A stalwart pillar despite her relative lack of experience in the position. At least, if you went by the "official" dossier. She hums often; playing some aged song from her distant homeland across her mind that, more often than not, are hymnal in nature. Velshia has a pension for getting lost in her head. Losing the thread of conversation at random points. However, whenever she's on point, Velshia is quick to relay any critical information with thorough detail that was borderline bred into her from her training. Quietly underneath, even to herself, is an identity crisis waiting to happen. She has so often been a servant of the Emperor that the serious suggestion of being anything else, from a respected source of course, is bound to cause issue.

Bio: Velshia was born and raised for the explicit purpose of becoming an agent. There wasn't a choice in the matter. The empire had been wanting more agents and the Deskaran people made that want a demand. Not that she ever really had issue with this. It was her duty after all and, while other peoples may balk at such a regime, few understand the need. Across the worlds, there is suffering. And suffering can only be faced as one. These beliefs have been imprinted upon her for her entire life.

Velshia was removed from her birth family and given to a family consisting of retired agents. These parents immediately began the process of training her mind. Specifically, the ability to extract the thoughts of other individuals. Unwilling individuals. Long hours of meditation and just as many of practice. Discipline and control to lead to perfect and precise extraction. Picking apart defenses, sorting through lies to achieve the ultimate goal: the truth. When she became an adult, 23 standard years, she was shipped off to the academy on the First Imperial Ecumenopolis. As was the nature of her race, Velshia and her peers stood out in their interrogation scores. Yet, as a happy accident as she calls it, Velshia found a natural inclination for computer operations. Perhaps it was how she approached her mind reading, extraction process that lent herself to computers. In a word: methodical. Nothing too fast, considering the angles. Piece by piece, building and picking apart layers and layers of code to create and deploy programs to worm her way into any system. Outside of this, Velshia is seen as a fairly standard agent passing with fine marks by all her teachers.

From there she has served faithfully. Working her way through the ranks and was later "transferred" to more traditional naval operations onboard the INS Ophelia. Proper papers in hand, she walked onboard the vessel as the Head of Informatics and Computer Systems.

In her spare time, Velshia enjoys reading religious texts of all variants. She herself would've been a priestess of Cassadrel if she had remained with her birth family. A fact that even Velshia herself is unaware of. As this more liberal exploration of faith has yet to interfere with her prowess, no handler has seen fit to discourage her in this.

Velshia keeps her neural crown close to her at all times. Same with her X-3 standard blaster, kept secure on her hip with her basic slicing array of tools. Disguised as a common datapad. The more advanced set, sadly, has to remain in her quarters as it's a full pack that needs to be lugged around on her back and would, understandably, raise a few eyebrows if they were not aware of her origins with Imperial Intelligence.

Appearance:
View attachment 231468

Puppet master: Verran

---​

Name: Runi "Blazing Hair" Kindler

Age: 43

Race: Human

Home system/Planet/town: Tyloon – a heavily industrialized Empire planet that focuses on manufacturing various goods and exporting them.

Chosen ship: INS Ophelia

Rank: First Officer

Personality: Bold – Runi isn't afraid to charge right into the heat of battle, for better or worse.

Wistfully Nostalgic – After years of conflict, Runi misses some of the older times or older crewmates. This gives her a gentle side when she thinks about what the past has taught her for what ideals to aim for.

Respectful – Despite her haphazard manner, Runi has grown up through her career and greatly respects those who deserve it, while willing to give anyone a chance to prove themselves.


Bio: Runi was an infantry member aboard the Imperial ship Lefina during the old Empire/Resistance conflict. When the Paranoia War broke out, the Lefina was on the frontlines, using cutting-edge mecha and weaponry technology to fight back as much of the Khivux invasion as possible, often having to blow the Empire's own ships out of the sky. Runi's squad was sent in for more close up combat, retaking outposts while trying to subdue as many controlled soldiers as possible, or execute them if that was not possible. Runi's drive and sometimes reckless bravery saw her leading many charges on these frontlines. Her bright red hair waving as she stormed into the thick of battle earned her the nickname of 'Blazing Hair Runi'. Even with her courage though, much like the rest of the galaxy, many skirmishes ended up in retreat or just rescue and evacuation of teams half taken over by the parasites. Several incidents found Runi having to subdue her own comrades in the midst of battle as their protection fell and the Khivux took them over.

With the discovery of the Mindfire Toxin, much of the Lefina weaponry was updated to contribute to the purging of the Khivux. Infantry squads like Runi were sent in to clean up outposts, buildings, and infected ships for close quarters combat, where airborne flooding of the toxin was harder to accomplish. The toxin gave them new hope, but Runi witnessed a different kind of horror as hosts were freed of the parasite, only to face what they had been doing while under their control. Runi just took this to fuel her own determination, pushing for more rapid deployment of her squad until the Khivux has been nearly eradicated.

Over the course of the wars, Runi demonstrated strong leadership and guts, eventually receiving honors from both the Lefina's captain and military institutions. Once the Paranoia War was over, with the truce being agreed on and the Lefina ship being retired, Runi was moved up ranks in the military, transferring between multiple branches.

Eventually she attained her sought after rank of XO and reassigned to the Ophelia. Her military career had given higher-ups much credence to put her second in command of a very important secret mission, to which Runi gladly accepted.

Runi's armaments consist of a laser pistol, a plasma sword, a railgun rifle, and a small grenade of Mindfire Toxin that she carries just in case.

Appearance:
View attachment 232074

Puppet master: Presea_cousin

---​

Name: Sorrin Yuo

Age: 18

Race: Waylish/Heracle

Home system/Planet/town: Dubrillion- a sunny resort like planet in the Empire. Often a place where Imperial Soldiers retired to.

Chosen ship: INS Ophelia

Rank: Fighter Pilot

Personality: Driven – Sorrin wants to forge his own path forward and will march forward through any difficulties.

Cautious – One of the wishes of his parents was that he would return, so Sorrin is very careful to not overextend himself too much.

Excited, but Nervous – Promoted to such an important ship despite his age, he's very honored about his position, but recognizes that he'll be going in with less experience than the rest of the crew.

Bio: Sorrin is the third child to Micheal and Skylar Yuo, two Imperial officers who retired from the Imperial Army and settled down to raise a family. Sorrin has an older brother and older sister, one still in college while the other graduated to be a biology researcher. He also has three younger siblings, with the youngest at 5 years old.

Despite his parents' wishes, Sorrin entered the military. Growing up and learning about the Paranoia War made Sorrin think there could be more done to keep the galaxy safe, so Sorrin enlisted hoping to help with uncovering some breakthrough discovery. He entered the academy at only 15, getting through because his Heracle blood meant his body developed faster than the standard rate, even if he was fudging it a bit because he was only half-heracle. He went into the pilot program and underwent training for deep space flight and extreme combat situations. His rapid progress despite his age propelled him to the forefront of pilots quickly.

Deciding to make use of the youth, as well as his relevant training, the academy switched his program a bit to a new class of deep-space stealth pilots, training for flying new spacecraft for a special, under-wraps mission. Sorrin excelled in the stealth-flight program, becoming one of the first in what some recruits were nicknaming 'Phantom Wings.' After graduating from the flight academy, Sorrin was quickly assigned to the INS Ophelia as part of a new fighter squadron, flying the latest in high-speed space fighters.

Sorrin's armaments include a small blaster and knife, standard issue for pilots if they need to abandon their ship. His ship is the latest in Imperial Variable Fighters, the YP-29S (nicknamed the Phantom Wing after the pilots who had exclusive permission to fly them), modified with extra stealth and speed capabilities to align with the Ophelia's Black Ops directive. It is a transformable fighter jet mecha armed with a large rapid-fire laser rifle as well as missiles, smoke bombs, and jamming units. And it is also rigged with a self-destruct mechanism in case there was ever any danger of it being discovered and giving away the Navy's presence.
Phantom Wing
Phantom Wing [Transformed]

Appearance:
Sorrin
Puppet master: Presea_cousin

---​

Name: Jlita Wilsks

Age: 22

Race: Human

Home system/Planet/town: Dubrillion- a sunny resort like planet in the Empire. Often a place where Imperial Soldiers retired to.

Chosen ship: INS Ophelia

Rank: Mecha Pilot/Infantry Scout

Personality: Hot-headed – Jlita has a bit of an attitude and isn't afraid to defend it. She loves to get into squabbles with people, thinking them like competitions that she can usually come out on top.

Over Confident – Jlita loves to showboat and be extra in her antics and performance. She's not shy to do anything, but that also means she's sometimes diving right into something she was never meant to handle.

Doting – Used to taking care of others, Jlita tends to act like a teasing older sister to anyone smaller or younger than her. Or to anyone really if she thinks it would be cute enough.

Bio: Only daughter to Pife and Uras Wilsks, two members of the Lefina crew that fought during the old Resistance/Empire conflict. After a harrowing experience during the Paranoia War, they retired from the military and settled on Dubrillion, next door to the Yuo household.

Jlita was born in a safe household in a safe neighborhood nestled deep in the middle of the Empire, far from where the Paranoia War was being fought. So as a kid growing up in a peaceful environment, she began to act out, rebel, and grow up into a rambunctious teen. She took up hoverboarding, graffiti, and often stayed out wayyy past her curfew. Her parents tried to reprimand her, but nothing could keep her from going out to tear up the town on her hoverboard. Despite her antics, there was one area where she acted responsible: babysitting the Yuo kids next door, usually the third and fourth kids.

Upon hearing that Sorrin was planning on going into the military, and with Jlita wanting to get off Dubrillion, she signed up to the military with him. She underwent pilot training, but her focus went more on reconnaissance and complex maneuvers. On the ground, she broke protocol by bringing her hoverboard with her into field exercises and drills. And despite anything her superiors said, she kept doing it until they eventually gave up and let her. Jlita flying around her hoverboard for scouting and combat drills was oddly effective, making her stand out from other troops. Once it was time for assignment, she was sent to the Ophelia. One: to act as a scout, and two: to get her away from the rest of the military before she decided fuel tanks would make a good grind rail. It may also have been due to some strings she pulled with her parents' contacts, but no one knows for sure.

Jlita armaments include two rapid-fire blaster pistols which she uses while on her modified military hoverboard, a specially made board that included shielding and deployable blades for combat. Her brand new mecha called Lightwing, a military mecha that flies using a giant hoverboard, meant to camouflage the military use by masquerading as a new extreme sport. And if that fails, it has twin laser cannons, concealed reinforced knives, and deployable mines.
Lightwing

Appearance:
Jlite.png


Puppet master: Presea_cousin
 
Last edited:

muffinphobia

dancing witch
Original poster
planets/races/cultures

please post your planet profile here once it has been approved by Pigiron or myself.
 

muffinphobia

dancing witch
Original poster
Alien Race: Dina Amor
Home planet: Dinaxis
Territory: none
Culture:
Initially thought to be an icy wasteland, it was found around 4987 that the planet was in fact populated by a native species. Artistically, their buildings appear to be ice palaces but are made of a strong unknown alloy. A single royal family has been ruling for as long as any living Dina Amor can remember. All Dina Amor hold a natural obligation to do what the royal family asks. Generally speaking, they are a cold people and do not naturally seek love or companionship, which allowed them to fly under the radar for so long. Dina are genetically inclined to find one specific person intensely attractive in order to help keep the species alive. The bond generally occurs between two Dina, but not always, and it is also possible for one or both parties to reject it.
History
The Dina Amor are a people who were created from the ice, so the legend goes. They are the only intelligent species on the planet, and their capitol, Benopsis, is the only major center of population, and even then the population there is below 100,000. They do not use Common Tongue, instead preferring their own Dina language. There are a handful of nomadic tribes outside the city who prefer to try their luck in the wilderness, and they have found innovative methods of survival. Most of the planet is host to a number of ferocious and deadly beasts. In the present time, the royal family is watched closely by the Empire. A handful of Dina (mostly members of the royal family) have an ability called suthasa, or the ability to see potential futures through dreams. It requires intense mental training to master.
Economy
There isn't much of an economy to speak of beyond trading and bartering. The Dina prefer to be self-sufficient and have established routines for hunting and growing crops underground, where conditions are more favorable. Some of the more progressive Dina wish to harvest the alloy found on the planet in order to study and possibly trade it, but the royal family and other important nobility have shut this down repeatedly in an attempt to stay out of galactic affairs. They're so adamant about this that they haven't allowed scientists to name the alloy. Those who aren't full-blooded Dina have been able to go behind the royal family's back and make weapons with the alloy.
Military
In the conflict between the Resistance and the Empire, the Dina Amor have always remained neutral. The second that reports of Khivux were received, the royal family shut down the starport and put every citizen on lockdown. A few cases managed to get through, but those unfortunate individuals were swiftly marooned in the wilderness, putting a swift end to the issue. They have no space-based military to speak of, and rely on more primitive methods of defense, as their primary threat are the creatures who roam the planet. In truth, they would be an easy military target if either the New Resistance or the Empire were interested. Their biggest threat has always been the beasts that live on the planet, so their hand-to-hand combat skills are what they rely on most. The most lethal form of it is known as pavitara laraku, where combatants use blades dipped in poison.
Technology
The Dina Amor are not terribly advanced, technologically speaking. They've modified a few weapons brought in from outsiders to suit their needs for survival, but little innovation takes place on their part, as the royal family has never seen the need for serious weaponry or ships. The starport is old and antiquated. It was originally built when the planet was discovered by outsiders around 40 years ago, and since then absolutely no upgrades have been completed. The harsh weather conditions don't help, either. A passing ship could expect a possible refuel..at best. Repairs would be an even more uncertain proposition.
Preferred Climate/Environment
The entire planet is coated in ice year-round, though during the summer months it's possible to spend more than a few minutes outside without gloves and not lose one's fingers to frostbite. For several months out of the year the planet is subjected to Labi Rata, or the Long Night. It is especially dangerous to travel outside of Benopsis at that time, though some believe it is the perfect time for solitary travel in order to better master suthasa.
Appearance
Dina Amor are humanoid in appearance. Most have very fair complexions and are highly intolerant of sunlight. The few who leave and visit other planets have to be extremely careful in warm climates. The unknown alloy on the planet affects eye color - any Dina who has spent any significant amount of time on their home planet or carries weapons made of the alloy has eyes of an unsettling yellow shade. Pureblood Dina Amor have silver hair while majar (mutts) can have varying hair colors.
~~contributed by muffinphobia
 
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muffinphobia

dancing witch
Original poster
Alien Race: Zharians (though mostly populated by humans and other races whose homeworlds support the New Resistance)
Home planet: Zhar
Territory: none
Culture:
Pre-Empire/Resistance Conflict: The Zharians were famed for pleasing crowds large and small, old and young. It was considered one of the best tourist planets in the galaxy, despite its out-of-the-way location. All Zharians were trained from a young age in some sort of fine art, such as cooking or singing or playing an instrument. The government was a democracy.
Post-Empire/Resistance Conflict: The few remaining Zharians are dedicated to making the planet a convincing cover for the rebels as they hide and rebuild. They keep the same traditions as their ancestors ..... but with a few modifications.
There are multiple major cities on the planet, filled with diverse populations. Cities of note: Zhar City is the capital. Anghor is a popular tourist destination, as it is beachside. Belmare is a small town outisde of Anghor, and the rumored residence of the elusive Hyde Burnett.
History
The earliest Zharians can be traced back to the year 2050. The planet appears to have been uninhabited until then, despite its life-sustaining conditions. Once there, the Zharians built huts, houses, and continued to develop not too differently from the way ancient humans on planet Earth had. A few of the cleverer ones got an old holographic projector up and running, so that they could hear of the news in other corners of the galaxy. What they heard made them ever so slightly unsettled - some sort of "Empire" was in the middle of trying to take over, with no visible resistance.

But, this news didn't have much effect on their daily lives, and so they ignored it. The tourists and the money kept coming, and they were content with their lives. That is, the day until the G5 found them. Now, space travel wasn't unhead of on Zhar - after all, how could their numerous visitors come and go without it? Still, it was a bit of a shock when the beaten G5 came to rest in a rather public landing bay. The bay was shut down, the small Navy vessel was investigated. Inside, the Zharians found roughly a dozen Navies, all looking as though they'd been through hell and back. One, identifying himself as Frank Burnett, claimed to be the leader of a movement nobody had ever heard of, that movement being the Resistance.

Frank asked the leader of the Zharians for help in their endeavor - never could they find a better place to hide, so far away from the Empire. But they were refused and left once again, although the crew left with many rumors swirling about behind them.

Not too long after this, Zhar was invaded by the Empire. The tiny rebellion, with less than five hundred followers, had struck fear into the heart of the Emperor and in retaliation, he was in the middle of trying to bring every and any neutral planet under his control. The battle went on and on for months. The military was too weak to hold the fleet off alone, but then, after a desperate call into space for anyone to help, came their salvation - Burnett. He and a few other Resistance ships held the Navies off until they were forced to retreat. It had been a few years since the Resistance had visited Zhar, and it was clear now that their numbers had grown. Out of gratitude, the few Zharians that had survived the slaughter offered their planet as a sanctuary. The Resistance accepted, and they have been there to this day. Today, the planet is mostly populated by families of the active rebels, plus all of Frank Burnett's descendants, but the occasional Zharian still hangs around. Thus far, the Navy has never detected any sign of the rebel base, mostly because it is hidden underground, in the planet's core. The space was hollowed out by Frank Burnett and co not too long after settling there, and it is still used to this day. It was sparsely populated during the period of peace between the Empire and the Resistance, but now as the conflict is regaining its footing, more and more would-be rebels are seeking it out.

Life in the core is very different from life on the outside. Entrances to it can be found on the lesser populated side of the planet, the side that usually faces away from the surrounding planets. It can only be accessed with a certain code. On the outside, everything is sunny and happy and wonderful. At the core, it's srs bsns. All New Resistance meetings are held here. The core is very large, roughly the size of the state of Alaska, for comparison. Comprised of buildings, living quarters, landing bays, armories, ect. Most rebels do not visit the surface very often, although they've been known to go up on a lark and to unwind every now and then. Click here for a visual of the base. Most of the buildings are short and squat, but a few of the more important functions such as high command have been built into the support pillars, very similar to this picture. The buildings and tunnels are constructed with an aluminum-like alloy to protect the inhabitants from heat. Most pathways are indoors via the tunnels, but the few outdoor paths (such as the one leading to the landing bay) are walking trails made from the rock found at the planet's core. In terms of activity, there are usually quite a few rebels out and about, renovating the base's facilities to the best of their abilities. There is no one dominant species on base.
Economy
Zhar thrives off of tourism, as it always has. Most are unaware of the New Resistance occupation, although it can be a bit difficult to ignore the massive weapons shipments that pass by from time to time .....
On the base side of the planet, the market is predictably dominated by weaponry and advanced tech that could possibly help bring down the Empire. It's a black market of sorts, and it too is underground, far from the prying eyes of any visitors.
Military
As mentioned in the history, the Zharians had a practically nonexistent military. Their remote location managed to protect them against most attacks, and the occasional invader was usually so insignificant they could be scared off in a matter of days. Once the Navy invaded, however, the Resistance took over military life. All rebels have at least basic training in how to use a gun, hand-to-hand combat, and how to pilot a small craft. Depending on what area they're most interested in, some will enhance their knowledge while others will not. Once a shaky peace was instituted, the military was disbanded, but now leaders are beginning to rebuild it with as much secrecy as they can manage.
Technology
In the original conflict with the Empire the rebels were far behind the Navy in terms of technology by at least 15 to 20 years. This put them at a serious disadvantage until the Lustrians and Mandalorians joined their side. Now, the rebels benefit from having advanced tech and weaponry, even if they haven't had much use for it in recent years. The starport is also top-of-the-line, as it handles tourism traffic as well as incoming rebels. It's quite a sight to see, these battle-hardened folk trying to blend in with families who are just trying to go to the beach.
Preferred Climate/Environment
On the surface: Perfect climate. Summers and winters are mild, almost always sunny, plenty of beaches and store fronts around.
At the core: Exact opposite. No respiratory systems are supported - gas masks must be worn at all times when traveling around the core. Oxygen machines usually located inside the larger buildings. Very hot and stifling, as the core bears a strong resemblance to Earth's core.
Weather
On the surface: Summer: A little on the warm side, constantly sunny, most days are perfect for the beach. At night there are silent lightning storms, due to the humidity of the day. Fall: A bit chilly, but still very sunny. Beaching isn't suggested as much for this. Trees turn beautiful colors, the sky turns an odd gold-ish color at sunset. Winter: Snows a lot, although not enough to hamper travel. Ice skating a popular recreation. Spring: Flowers everywhere. Breezy weather. Perfect. Also rains quite a bit, sometimes violently.
At the core: No weather. Artificial machines keep most buildings very cold, since outdoors it is swelteringly hot, almost unbearably so. Staying out in this for too long is not recommended.
Appearance
Zharians all have olive-colored skin and dark, somewhat beady eyes. Most also have dark hair. Rebels vary depending on what planet they are from.
~~contributed by muffinphobia
 
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Pigiron

Shipcutter
Alien Race: Lustrians
Home planet: Lustre
Territory:
the Lustrians have mining and financial interests in several systems, but only have full control of four systems: Lustre, Shockri-la, Freezeweld and Kavor's Rage.
Lustre - The Lustrian homeworld. A forge world steeped in a golden sky, bedecked with silver clouds. Enormous forge-complexes smatter the surface, with factory-farmed seas covering 60% of the planet's surface. The Capital - Crossweld, a great fortification-circled tower containing the beating beuraucratic heart of the Lustrian Oligarchy.
Shockri-La - The first Lustrian colony, The main world of this system is a moon orbiting a gas giant named Sanhim just outside the goldilocks zone of the Red supergiant star at the centre of the system. To facilitate terraforming and life on the moon Shockri-La has a complicated system of stellar mirrors orbiting the gas giant with it, heating the surface of the once-frozen moon. Shockri-La is the location the Lustrians made their first contact: with the Folk-Of-Storms, a race of gas giant dwellers.
Freezeweld - freezeweld is a ringmoon built around an Ice giant (a planet similar to Uranus or Neptune). The planet the ring is built around is named Blue-Eye. This system is the main source of water, ammonia and methane supplies for Lustrian industry elsewhere.
Kavor's Rage - A series of permanent asteroid habitats and shipyards, Kavor's Rage is a once-pirate controlled system that gained the ire of the entrie Lustrian race after they assaulted an unarmed colony ship. Kavor, a once anonymous Lustrian that lost his family in the attack, rose through the ranks of the Lustrian government at a meteoric pace, eventually attaining a place on the counsel and visiting a three decade long crusade of vengeance against all pirates anywhere near Lustrian space. Kavor is credited as being the first Lustrian to truly turn the entirety of Lustrian manufacturing capability to wartime ends, the policies and wartime protocol penned by the man himself are still referenced by modern generals and war ministers today, and Kavor's single-minded rage is the reason pirates in the sector tend to avoid unarmed Lustrian ships to this day.


Culture:
A former bastion of collectivism, Lustrians underwent a cultural revolution after Human first contact.
Specifically the Resistance message sparked a heated debate amongst the Lustrian people, with a powerful wave of Individualism and advocacy for personal freedoms becoming a new school of thought for the formerly almost eusocial Lustrian people. Thankfully the change in mindset did not cause too much division in the Lustrian population, and they managed to weather the storm of social change with surprising adaptability.
Nowadays the Lustrian people tend to try and find a harmony between the need of the one and the needs of the whole. Lustrians are fiercely loyal to the Lustrian government; The ruling elite of the Lustrian people, named the Council, along with all upper-oligarchs, undergo a brain surgery named "The Oath" upon being sworn in to public service that restructures their brain to consider all Lustrians as members of their immediate family. Between this treatment and careful AI assistance processes, the Lustrians have a little more luck avoiding the issue of corruption and greed in government positions.

The Lustrians are one of the main supporters of the Resistance on the galactic stage, however they are open to trade and diplomacy with the Empire.

The Lustrian language bears similarities to Braille when written and phonetically is a kind of flowing hyper-compact series of syllables, with new learners often struggling to catch their breath when talking to a native speaker.

History
Lustrians are an example of convergent evolution; their planet was superficially similar to earth, with some differences. in prehistory. Lustrians evolved from endurance hunters, much like humans, and developed in much the same way humans did, however early in the diaspora of Lustrians across Lustre an almost eusocial structure was selected for, causing the Lustrians to have a much larger family structure and a selfless attitude towards their communities.
Lustre has gone through many tribulations since then, and has been through multiple ecological and climate collapses throughout the years. Lustre bears the dubious honor of being one of the few home worlds that needed re-terraforming three times before the Lustrians eventually figured out how to avoid mass pollution and mass extinctions.
Lustrian recent history is heavily influenced by their first contact with humans in the early 5th millenia, as discussed in the culture section.
The Lustrian Territories were hit incredibly hard by the Khivux, with the close-knit nature of Lustrian life causing the parasites to spread like wildfire. A national day of mourning is held every year, with addresses from the Lustrian Oligarchy often falling into despondence and angry reiterations of promises to send military assets to track down and exterminate all remaining Khivux in the galaxy.

Economy
Lustre and it's sister systems are known as centers for production, with the main exports being consumer electronics, spacecraft, and complicated alloys. Imports include food, such as non-fish protein products, desserts and snack foods, along with organic chemicals and terraforming machinery.

Military
Kavor's Rage houses the majority of Lustrian offensive capability, a force that, while it does not match the Empire's numbers, is well equipped and trained enough that it may give the Empire pause if it seeks to take any Lustrian territory.
Lustre itself is host to five gigantic PolyArmament Defense satellites, recently refitted to modern standards. These giant orbital batteries are capable of outputting anything from railgun blasts and missiles through to plasma lances and laser batteries.

Technology
Lustrians are industry leaders in material sciences and artificial reasoning. Lustrian AIs are built from the ground up to be "part of the family", so much so that many lustrian AI are granted citizenship and wages for the work they complete.
Lustrians are behind on terraforming and climate science, to an almost embarrassing extent.
Most Lustrian ships are fitted with loud but fast Wormhole drives, with ships focusing on rapid response, overwhelming first strikes, and other sudden assault tactics.

Preferred Climate/environment
Lustrians have a metabolistic need for argon, as it's non-volatile and un-combinative nature allows it to be part of the process that cleans away a naturally occurring Lustrian hormone called Toxicant-Fixing Ludrenaline.
Lustrians breathing Argonless air will get Lethargic and breathless after a couple of minutes, begin showing symptoms of hepatic shutdown within ten, unconsciousness coming after around 40 minutes and death occuring in around an hour.
However this Ludrenaline allows the Lustrian respiratory system to withstand a lot more punishment than humans of similar size. Particulates, Carbon monoxide, ammonia gas, and sulfurous fumes are middling irritants, rather than a mortal threat. Thus Lustrians are far more resistant than humans to diseases like black lung,

The Weather on Lustre is a perpetual gold tinted smog. Many areas of the surface require a respeirator or filter mask. Snow is grey by the time it hits the ground, rain is somewhat acidic.

Appearance
Lustrian skin is a flecked dusty gold. It is theorized that this allowed early Lustrians to blend in with the smog of golden argon-based mist on their planet.
Lustrian eyes are similar to human eyes, with a white sclera and black round pupil, but their irises are usually either red, brown or gold, or some mixture or midpoint between.


~~contributed by Pigiron
 

Quake

Iced Coffee Enthusiast
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per day
  2. One post per day
  3. One post per week
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
Fantasy/ Sci-Fi.



Alien Race: Sentiri
Home Planet: Sentris, The Eternal Daybreak
Territory: None



  • Culture:

    A desert planet steeped in sunlight year round, Sentris is home to only a handful of alien species. Few can make it in the wild sands, but none can navigate them like the Sentiri. The only somewhat humanoid species on the planet, these tribal nomads live in caves and atop mountains, migrating in search of new homes every fourth sun. While civilization outside of the desert planet has advanced countless years, the Sentiri are a simple people with simple lives and simple aspirations. They are quick to reject anything new and stick to what they know when it comes to technology or teachings that would defy their age old beliefs. Despite this stubborn mindset, they are a kind people as long as you obey their rules and finding yourself amongst them is easily the safest place on the dunes.

  • History:

    For as long as the Sentiri have existed, they have worshipped the six suns that surround the desert planet: Ux, Satu'ra, Mehn, Lot, Ja’yi, and Gaz. Throughout the calendar year, the first three suns are always visible in the sky at any time. Thus, "night" is not something that occurs on Sentris. Halfway through the year, these first suns vanish and the following three suns rise into the sky. The first week of this specific period of time is called Sa’Bru, and is a special time for the Sentiri people. Sentris is always hot, but during Sa’Bru, the sands catch fire, setting the earth ablaze and forcing Ghe’zen and other predatory creatures to retreat either deep below the sands or to cooler locations. These fires signal relocation time for the Sentiri, who use 'hot air balloons called Astu to move from one mountain home to another. Resources on Sentiri are always scarce, and thus their people must continue to migrate in order to avoid starvation. The Sentiri would tell you that these trips are the hardest part of life on Sentris. Between sandstorms, dust devils, and issues with their Astu like fuel or balloon malfunctions, many of the Sentiri fail the trip every year and are lost to the firey sands below. It is a cruel existence, but the Sentiri know it as simply another part of their lives.

    Over the years, aliens and beings from other worlds have investigated or crash landed on Sentiri, however few have ever survived long enough to return home. The sands are unforgiving, and countless beings have been lost to its dangers. To the Sentiri, these wreckage sites are called Vaza or Su'Vaza and are often designated as forbidden by clan elders.

    When it comes to actual history, little is known about the past of the planet outside of local tribe stories and occasional stone records. Some legends claim Sentris was once a lush jungle planet, but none can say for sure and even fewer can prove it. The few outsiders that have visited Sentris and returned home say Sentris is nothing more than a wasteland of death that will eventually burn itself to extinction. Only time will tell.

  • Economy:

    Amongst Sentiri Tribes, everything runs on trust. If you are an outsider and you are hungry, you are fed. In return, you must give something or provide a service of equal value. While this system might seem archaic to more advanced species, it operates exceptionally well on Sentris, where being deemed dishonest is a death sentence as no one will work with you. Sentris is not a planet where you can survive alone, and those that try soon fall to the judgement of the sands.

    Speech/Expression:

    When it comes to communication, Sentiri speech is rather unique. Sentiri beings possess wattle-like frills underneath their tongues that vibrate rapidly when they speak. This generates a sort of hum whenever they communicate that sounds similar to a human performing an extended tongue trill. Sentiri heads also subtley jerk back and forth as they talk, a trait more noticeable in males than females. When male Sentiri develop conflict, they compete in tests of strength with the large bone on their heads, violently charging and slamming them against each other until one of the two competitors surrenders. This age old practice is called Mah'agi.

  • Military:

    There is no real military on Sentris, but the Sentiri people have warriors called T’ukri that are chosen by a test called the Pilgrimage of Sands. When a Sentiri comes of age, he or she is given the title of Brave and sent out on foot to search for the next location the tribe will travel to during Sa’Bru. If they find it and return, they are made T’ukri, a warrior of the Sun and are given a new name fitting of their new status. If they fail or do not return they are scratched from the tribal record and their name is lost for eternity.

    T'ukri commonly fight with spears (Tatama) and machete-like blades (Kuaku) carved from stone or animal bones. They also occasionally wield slings, however the high winds on the desert plains often make hunting and combat with these tools highly innefficient. The T'ukri combat stlye is incredibly quick, focusing on takedowns and lethal blows. As most of their combat is against the multitudes of beasts that roam the sands, it is necessary that they strike fast and true in order to stay alive.

    T'ukri helmets are forged from the outer abdomen shell of the Bhol'gi Insect. Easily located due to using their lower half as bait, Bhol'gi insects are incredibly dangerous creatures capable of taking down unsuspecting targets in seconds. Killing one requires heavy strikes and quick feet to avoid being flipped and buried beneath the sands, After defeat, the brave must strip the shell off the bug and finish his/her piligrimage. They are not allowed to wear the mask until their mission is complete and the title of T'ukri is bestowed upon them.

  • Technology:

    The furthest advancement the Sentiri people have is flight, which comes in the form of their Astu hot air balloons. Outside of that, the Sentiri are quite primitive. They weapons are raw and crude. Their medicine stems from sacrifices and animal innards and rarely provides the necessary relief. Some tribes don't even use medicine, instead believing in the Sun gods to decide the fate of those afflicted with injury. IF they live it is because the gods will it, and if they die then it was their time to "bask in the light of [insert god here]." Fortunately, most Sentiri are incredibly resilient and don't often get sick.

    In the past, some Sentiri have scrapped materials and gear from ship graveyards and Su'Vaza sites, but these acts were always discovered and punished, often times by banishment and forced pilgrimages destined to never end. Lately, rumors have begun to circulate that the banished and lost have formed their own tribes and now wield the cursed materials for themselves, but no evidence of this has ever been discovered.

  • Climate/Environment/Wildlife:

    It’s always hot. Every single day. Towards the end of the year, temperatures decline slightly by a few degrees, but strong desert winds pick up rapidly, resulting in massive dust devils that can tear through camps and homes in a matter of sheer moments. These extreme winds are why the Sa'Bru is conducted in the middle of the year instead of at the end.

    Wildlife:

    Ghe'zen:

    Seated atop of the Sentris food chain are the Ghe’zen, brutish wolf/bear-like quadrupeds that hunt in packs and dominate the sands with their peerless speed and bone-crushing jaws. Using their nostrils, these creatures emit reverberating pulses across the sand,trapping small prey underneath as well as scanning the sand for irregularities that would represent the movement of larger prey. Ghe’zen are incredibly intelligent and will often pretend to give up or make mistakes in order to fool their prey or steer them into traps. These hounds can grow up to six feet in length and weigh over 300 pounds, all while running up to fifty miles an hour.

    Bhol'gi:

    Bhol’gi are an insect species found on Sentris. Above ground, they are harmless creatures that feed on the top sand as well as smaller insects and creatures. Their front legs are webbed and can dig incredibly fast or sift through fine sand for microscopic prey. When a Bhol’gi has finished eating it's fill of insects, it buries itself into the ground face down, exposing its bug-like abdomen above the ground as juicy bait. If the abdomen is attacked, the Bhol’gi immediately rotates 180 degrees upwards, popping out arms first and pressing its prey deep into the sand where it consumes them slowly over a period of days. Bhol'gi can grow up to 9 feet long and while they are pretty light for their size, can apply over four tons of pressure with their palms.

    Sawaki Skitters:

    Sawaki Skitters are the aviary wildlife of Sentris. They are a passive creature around five feet tall that feed on sand mytes and other tiny insects. They are not predatory, but are incredibly territorial. When provoked, the Sawaki is capable of rapid strikes with its beak, piercing its target over a hundred times in a matter of seconds. The Sawaki is the primary prey of the Sentiri people, who eat its eggs as well as the bird itself, often turning the beaks into speartips. While highly uncommon, some tribes raise and use Sawaki as transportation and farm animals. However this is incredibly rare and Sawaki farmers are often just viewed as stories of legend.

    Na'a'haktu:

    The largest predators on Sentris are called Na’a’haktu, giant bug-like behemoths that live below the sands. Capable of consuming entire tribes in one go, the Na’a’haktu lives beneath the sands for it’s entire life, only coming up to feed or give birth. As dangerous as they are, they are quite rare and only a few exist at a time. Sentiri people can go their entire lives without ever seeing one, but it said that to see one is an omen of death. The largest recorded Na'a'haktu was said to be over 80 feet long and consume a mountain in go. However this is likely highly exaggerated....hopefully.

    Werel'Khol:

    "There is an... insect, on Sintris. It's called Werel'Khol in the native tongue, with Imperial scientists deigning it the basking albatross-mantis... It's top side is covered in a silvery carapace, to reflect the heat of the suns. Its underside is the warm ochre of the Sintris sky. They survive the heat with a rather interesting air-cooling system. They have a large mouth that is almost always open. Their lungs function at dual purposes, not only for respiration, but also as a sort of biological air cooling system for their organs. They only close their mouth to dive and hunt other Sintris bird-analogues, and to eat of course. If they fly too slowly for too long, they die. They are beings built on the idea of constant progress, constant forward momentum." -Bernadette Angstrom

  • Appearance

    Sentiri are brown, lizard-like creatures. They each possess a set of arms and legs, with three appendages on each limb. They are incredibly thin, and grow in sizes from 5 to 6 feet. As they get older, they begin to rapidly shrink. Thus, Sentiri Dengi (elders) are usually only 2 to 3 feet in height. Sentiri females possess smaller heads than their male counterparts, who’s skulls are much larger and possess a fin-like bone atop it that extends down towards their nose.
    ~~contributed by (Quake)

• Astu: Large hot air balloons used for transportation over long distances. Steered using rope pulleys and twin sails.
•Dehngi: Tribe Elders. One elder per 10 Sentiri clansmen.
•Hakkan Dehngi: Mother Elder. Head of Elders and entire tribe. Considered a holy being and conduit of the Sun Gods.
•Kuaku: Curved machete like blades formed from stone or bone.
•Mah'agi: A head-ramming competition between two Sentiri; occasionally for fun but often to resolve conflicts.
•Sa'Bru: The first week of the Fourth Sun, halfway throught the calendar year. Signals Migration for the Sentiri People.
•Su'Vaza / Vaza: That which is considered forbidden.
•Tatama: Long spears fashioned from rock or animal stones.
•T'ukri: A Sentiri warrior, male or female. Highest honor apart from Village Elder.

Sentiri Male
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Sentiri Female
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T'ukri Attire
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Female Attire
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Ghe'zen Hound
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Bhol'gi Insect:
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Sawaki Skitter
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Na'a'haktu
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Tutari

Custodian
Alien Race: Simulacrum
Home planet: Dinaxis
Territory:

Akkanar's Cairn: Located on the planet Dinaxis is a small desolated mountain range that holds the first originator of the Simulacrum and is the grave of their creator Akkanar. The now inoperable mountain facility is possibly the most advanced location on the planet; despite it's rather crude and rudimentary designs. Originally the main cloning facility for the Simulacrum, after the Paranoia War ended, an agreement to demilitarize/disable the facility was reached with the Royal family and the Galactic Community. In exchange it is considered sacred ground for the Simulacrum, and left mostly untouched by outside forces. A few Empire/Resistance probes will roam the area to make sure there are no high energy readings on the mountain.

Originator X-51 Mobile: Originally an Empire vessel, it is now the sole active cloning facility and permanent home of the Simulacrum. When the war between the Resistance and Empire first began, this ship was a mobile repair station that moved along the battle lines. In the year 5005; the Empire began experimenting with genetics and cloning technology on other planets, but most of it lead to dead ends before an Dina Amor by the name of Akkanar, provided breakthroughs. It became a Major Research hub until the year 5020 in which Akkanar was revealed to be a Khivux and a bounty was put on his head and the destruction of the facility. While Akkanar's life was eventually claimed the X-51 Mobile military capabilities greatly evolved over the years of warfare and was not only difficult to destroy but an experimental warp core caused tracking it's location to be a frustrating endeavor. Eventually when the Paranoia war ended the ship appeared suddenly within the Peace Summit's space and a speaker of the Simulacrum offered a complete dousing of the Mindfire toxin within the ship in exchange of recognizing the Simulacrum as a sentient race deserving basic rights. Although a tense standoff ensue; eventually concessions were made and the ship returned to the void of space.

Large enough to hold tens of thousands of sapient lifeforms, currently it sustains 7,250 Simulacrum and 2,150 others. As it stands the ship requires no fuel and gathers power with it's solar panel arrays. Nebula refinement stations and astral mining bays ensure they have plenty materials while moving through a system(as long as they made agreements with the systems owners). Compact but artfully arranged, the ships many districts offer the basic amenities to sustain a large urban city. Nestled well within the ships guts is the Originator, creating and maintaining Simulacrum at an agreed upon set by the Peace Summit. While the climate control allows other species to live within ship, the temperature of the inside of the ship is usually a crisp -25 degrees Celsius (-13 Fahrenheit), only getting progressively colder as it goes near the Originator. Occupied by mostly Simulacrum, representatives from other systems have residency rights and embassies. The Empire has the most active embassy, and is on the constant look out for any irregularities within ship.

The Simulacrums original genetic base was Akkanar himself (Dina Amor Nomadic Male). A natural survival instinct, a willingness to change to gain the upper hand and an innate suthasa ability. When Akkanar joined the Empire, there demands eventually caused him to alter the base. Choosing a more physically impressive tribesman, Admiral Maddox Abbadon then order Akkanar to add the following to the code; Natural Obedience, improved hand eye coordination and loyalty to his fellow soldiers. When the Khivux took Lustre and Dinaxis, Akkanar enhanced the Dina Amor's natural genetical inclination to bond with a specific individual and focused it on their fellow clones. At this point, highly communal and bonded to their fellow clones, many Simulacrum either abstained from fighting or joined the Khivux. There sense of community was so strong, while less than fifty Simulacrum were infected with a Khivux, they still followed these few into battle. Those who were unwilling to fight went into isolation in remote areas of space or joined the X-51 Mobile.

Simulacrum Legion

With official recognition, the Simulacrum Legion was formed at the final days of the Peace Summit. Governed as a Mercenary Republic by two Consuls, the Simulacrum carefully tries to navigate there new place in the galaxy while falling back into why they were made. While the Empire had heavy investments into the Simulacrum and their stolen vessel, the Peace Summit enforced a neutral stance that the Consuls follows respectfully. As agreed upon, their populace was also made infertile, until a period of a hundred cycles or until the Khivux has been without a doubt eradicated. Because of this, the Simulacrum has a one household standard that remains unshakable. Your fellow legionnaire comes first and great care is taken with their health. All crimes that a Simulacrum commit, at home or beyond is taken seriously and at least one of the Consuls is a witness to the outcome of the trial.

Death, despite being clones, is also a somber occasion. If possible, the body is place within the mountain range of Akkanar's Cairn on Dinaxis. A procession starting from Benopsis, traveling on foot, makes it way to the mountain and delivers final rights and remarks. A Consul also attends these funerals and makes a visit to the royal family to give proper respect.

The Legion has also take it upon themselves to be the unofficial navy of Dinaxis and the royal family. While still independent and treated coldly by the royals, the legion treats the Dina Amor as distant cousins. The Consul hopes the dogmatic neutrality of the royals can be a steady guideline for their peoples tentative peace, with a galaxy that still is wary of them.

Many Legion Simulacrum find physical exertion enjoyable, and take such activities with gusto. They tend to have a natural affinity for team focused games, and find themselves getting attached to these sports as well.

Akkanar's Blood

Most Simulacrum that people are aware of, are the ones made for war by the Empire, but they were not the first. The first humanoid that Akkanar cloned was himself. When this clone showed he had the suthasa ability, Akkanar had him assist him with day to day task; advisor and oracle. Eventually the Empire decided a more physically adept base would be more useful to them and so Akkanar stopped cloning himself for a time.
Those that remain were trained as military advisors and officers within the army or became Akkanar's personal research assistants. While not mass produced, eventually the Empire allowed clones of Akkanar in the production line to trained in specialized roles. Their suthasa ability becoming a great boon in whatever project they were tasked with. At the end of the Paranoia War, the Empire confirms the death of 37 Akkanar clones, which would fit their estimation of production. In actuality, 42 Akkanar clones were made.

These five clones separately had their own visions that warned them of the coming fall of their creator and his involvement with the Khivux. Feeling betrayed but wary of the reprisal of revealing this to the galaxy they abandoned their positions with those few Simulacrum who still followed them and hid. Their visions led them to Kavor's Rage in Lustrian space, where they remained under the guise of a mercenary group. When the Khivux invaded Lustrian territory they successfully defended the habitats and shipyards, melding the tactics of Kavor with their own Dina Amor/Empire fusion. It became a drawn out and devastating guerilla fight with loses on both sides but heavier on the Khivux. In the end the Khivux fleet considered Kavor's Rage not worth it and moved to join the rest of their army in their invasion of Lustre.
With the aid of suthasa, the asteroid colonies remain in a constantly shifting state of battle during the Paranoia War despite the occupation of Lustre. The Simulacrum killed those Khivux who infiltrated and kept a solid defense with the Lustrian residents. Because of their actions the resident Lustrains tried their best to keep these clones as secret when the all kill was given by the Empire and Resistance at Akkanar's betrayal. When the peace summit was held, these five and the remnants of their units stayed in hiding and eventually formed communities within Kavor's Rage.

As these five clones were not subject to infertility as the rest of the Simulacrum, they were able to make families of their own and thus Akkanar had progeny. Using Akkanar as their surname, these Simulacrum created an private military company, capitalizing on the knowledge gain as veterans of the war. Known as Akkanar's Blood, their office is in the same shipping hanger they defended when the Khivux invaded. The Lustrian Government provided funding for them after the Lustrians of Kavor's Rage revealed what they did for their people. Led by the five Akkanar clones who went awol, they solidified Lustrian support by insisting they take "The Oath". Claiming that they already fought together as family, this was just a formality to them. As such they became a recognize organization and while private; they are the first to offer to handle an Lustrian issue if it requires use of arms.

The Empire believes that this is nothing but a ruse to keep these rebel clones from conforming to the agreed upon Peace Summit deals. As such the Empire has declared them war criminals until they stand trial. The Legion supports this declaration but is fixated on them standing trial with their Consuls as Judge and their own people as Jury. Because of this, these mercenaries have kept all of their communications and movement encrypted and traceless. When off planet they spend little interaction with others and are cold/distant. As such they more resemble their Dina Amor cousins in etiquette.



Akkanar was a shaman of a nomadic Dina Amor tribe from their home world of Dinaxis. A prodigy of suthasa(the ability to see different futures within dreams) at a young age, his tribe claim that he would be the one to lead their people into a golden era. These first steps to greatness, starts with a dream. A dream of desolation and starvation. His people becoming slaves to outside forces unable to defend themselves to a more advance enemy. Eventual extinction due to the pride of his people and there resistance;

We are strong but few in numbers. Our will is unbendable but if we do not bend we will break. Should our legacy be pride? This planet our frozen tomb? An eventual archaeology site to be discovered centuries later by some curious civilization, fresh and new to the galaxy? I refuse to have an outsider look upon what we built and done and have their response be: "A shame".

The royals have dictate the pace of our people for too long. If we allow this continue stagnation, this... commitment to a slow death, our people will be nothing more but cold memories. Tradition grounds us, and it's important, but to be able to fly? To soar unhindered? We must change.

Akkanar had many fruitless years trying to convince the rest of his people of his visions. While he did have a following, they still had a traditional mindset of how to proceed. Some call for a rebellion, to overthrow the royal family. Others seek to simply pay passage on the rare ship that would refuel at the star port, seeking new homes elsewhere. His visions show these options were temporary or dead ends. Eventually in his late twenties he was given another vision. A star falling from the sky, crashing into a mountain range. In it's light, structures and foundations. Within these foundations he sees himself approaching a chamber where a golden light rests. The light responds to him and he knows that it's the key to survival. He melds with this star light child and becomes one with it. Together he watches his people multiply by the millions, their control extends beyond the planet, technology never before reached is now rudimentary to them. He dreams there survival. Taking this pilgrimage himself through the frozen wastes he would arrive at the mountain in his vision. There cratered within the mountains body lies their salvation. A unique form of starship and with it, technological wonders. All unfamiliar to the Dina Amor tribesman, however his vision gave him a solid goal. He reaches the chamber and within, he finds the star child.

A khivux with no known name, Empire speculate that in 4998 was when Akkanar was taken over. An unusual symbiotic relationship, the Khivux knowledge of technology, combined with Akkanar's mastery of suthasa, helped them complete daunting goals within decades. Ruins of Akkanar's Cairn showed technology signs of attempts of genetic alteration and most importantly cloning. When the Empire began it's military campaign in 5005, Akkanar had already successfully made clones of local wildlife and one of himself. Using up the resources that were left by the Khivux ships crash landing, Akkanar/Khivux was forced to reveal their work to the galaxy if they were going to advance any further.

With the war, the smartest/safest choice was to find an investor for their goals. After copious dreams and speculation, the Empire was chosen. Akkanar/Khivux use their remaining resources to create an Empire aligned distress beacon, waiting patiently while they prepare their second phase of their plan. Mistrusted and interrogated at first, eventually Akkanar/Khivux manage to sway the more militaristic of the Empire's politics. One ally of theirs was essential to how all current Simulacrum behave and look to this day; War-Admiral Maddox Abbadon.

With his patronage and support, Akkanar/Khivux's breakthroughs changed both warfare and ethical landscapes. The admiral chose a more physically enhanced DIna Amor as the based, updating it as the war between the resistance continued on. While Akkanar still had clones of himself, they were few in number. Less than fifty Akkanar clones were recorded and that was only what the Empire acquisitioned. Because of there innate suthasa ability, Akkanar's clones were given to the Empire's admirals/generals as advisors/oracles but most were assigned to Simulacrum units as officers/strategists.

When the Khivux revealed themselves in 5012, Akkanar/Khivux remained with the Empire and the research station(X-51 Mobile), now promoted to an admiral by their previous assistance with the war against the Resistance. The Empire think tank, believes the Khivux access to the suthasa ability was the deciding factor of why Akkanar/Khivux continue their charade for eight years of the Paranoia War. Perhaps the portents saw both the Khivux winning and being defeated. Regardless of what they saw, Admiral Akkanar began adding genetic changes within the base of the Simulacrum; the most important being the increased bond genetics of the DIna Amor and influencing them to be bond-mates with their fellow clones. Because they were beneficial to the war effort, no one assumed the eventual betrayal that arrived in 5020.

Many claim that the suthasa ability was both an advantage and curse to Akkanar; dreams he had to decipher into human realism. Merging with the Khivux made interpreting his dreams easier, but his own clones had no such advantage. While they gave him multiple perspectives, he knew something they did not, which colored their opinion or rather his. The very enemy they were fighting for those eight years, was inside their creator. This left Akkanar/Khivux in a conundrum on how too proceed. Eventually what tip the scales was Akkanar/Khivux's decision to allow another Khivux to infest one of his own clones. Soon every Akkanar clone within the X-51 Mobile had a Khivux in them. Empire has records to attest the deaths of these infested creatures but assumes their might be more that escape. With a council of suthasa mastered Khivux, they all recalled one recurring dream that stick with them.

"The phoenix shall cleanse the galaxy in a divine silver fire. Burning not the flesh but the mind."
The Khivux will lose this war and contingencies need to be made. While the Khivux who resides in the original Akkanar had perfectly come to terms with this, the rest of the council panic and began to inform the rest of the Khivux of their portents. One of these warnings was leaked to a Resistance spy and quickly the galaxy discovered one of their most valuable assets in this war was controlled by their enemy. Akkanar/Khivux devised a plan, that some say, proved that the Khivux and Akkanar had a mutually symbiotic relationship. While they could not stop the rest of the Khivux who rallied the Simulacrum off station to fight, they can ensure that their legacy survived. Outfitted with an experimental warp drive a year back, the X-51 Mobile was given the order to retreat into the depths of space. Akkanar/Khivux left the station before giving a speech that remains encrypted to this day.

With the Mindfire toxin, the Paranioa War came to a turning point. All clones that did not go into hiding were put to death and their respective facilities were dismantled and shut down. Akkanar's body was found lifeless in the very mountain that led him to the Khivux. Medical officers present confirmed that Akkanar died to self inflicted wounds possibly after the Khivux left his body. Thus the mountain was named; Akkanar's Cairn, the final resting place of the creator of the Simulacrum. Only the Simulacrum knows of Akkanar's final speech, but based on their reaction to their creators death, it seems most still retained a powerful bond with him. Detractors will claim that the genetic alteration caused an irrational loyalty to Akkanar and all of them should be put to death for the safety of the galaxy. But Empire and Resistance alike attested that while the bond did have them considered each other favorably, it still did not trump self-preservation or any personal opinions they might have that differs from their fellow clones. The trial of Admiral Maddax Abbadon was used as such an example, as the cloning advancement and abuse was added to his crimes. Although some considered him a second father, since without his investments they would not exist, there where Simulacrum that testified against him.

In the end, those who scrutinize Akkanar's rise and fall, can agree that at least in a way, he brought the Dina Amor more into the light. While still neutral and isolated their space traffic increased significantly after the Paranoia War. Most of it coming from the Simulacrum pilgrims, the royal family has begrudgingly allowed these majar(mutts) to be their gateway to the stars. Younger Dina Amor feel more encourage to explore the stars, while their Simulacrum cousins carefully barter and trade with them. In a way, one can believe Akkanar diverted the disaster he dreamt those years ago. Giving his people a better chance of survival without the complete degradation of their traditions.

Time will only tell if it will hold up.​



Most of the trade comes from the in house astral mines of the X-51 Mobile and their interactions with the Empire. While the Empire is their biggest trade partner, they do trade with other factions, excluding the Resistance as they no longer exist.

The Simulacrum legion's has a standard code of interaction and ethics as they offer their services to the rest of the galaxy. Bodyguards, mercenaries, and security detail are the standard jobs, but they also have doctors, engineers, and scientists for rent. Stratified to accept most of the currency of the galactic market, the only thing they don't trade in is people. When dealing with the Dina Amor, they tend to barter mostly with the craftsmen and artisans in exchange for their own rations. Taking an interest in the culture more than anything else.

While careful to tread with respect of their isolation with the rest of the galaxy, The Legions offer to the Dina Amor as an unofficial navy was met with silence and mistrust. The spaceport in Dinaxis remains in poor condition, fearing the rest of the galaxy might think of it as invasion if the Legion attempted to repair it. As such the X-51 Mobile doesn't enter the system directly but transport fleets arrive every once in while with an influx of business and news.


With their creation made with warfare in mind; the Legion's military capabilities is equivalent to a singular Empire armada. As their only Originator is ship bound, all Simulacrum have training in astral ship combat. Classes of engineering and repair are taken as well to ensure the ship is always updated. While formidable in space, the Simulacrum Legion are feared for their land based combat. One Simulacrum legionnaire is comparable to five Empire troopers. Thus when anyone uses their mercenary services it is more of a broadcast to their employers enemies, that they mean business. Because of their genetic coding, a Simulacrum is usually given an assignment with a pair. Empire records show that not only proficiency improved, but their focus on the job rose. If a Simulacrum could not have another of their kind assigned to them, a direct communication link to the X-51 Mobile is advised. Without active interaction with their fellow Simulacrum, they experience a sense of morose and lethargy. Reports of using service creatures was deemed a suitable replacement in some instances.

While the Peace Summit was wary of the Legion's war capabilities, the Consuls made it clear that their neutrality is paramount to ensure that an entire galaxy tries not to wipe them out. As such they tend to avoid any contract that requires by the book warfare against another power within the galaxy. If such jobs were to tease it's suggestion, the Simulacrum hikes up their price to a ludicrous amount. Those who still attempt to buy their services are then offer strict rules within the contract, almost to an unfair degree. If by some off chance a contract causes a Simulacrum to engage with their own, bond takes precedence over the job. That isn't to say they will break the contract, but many employers are left frustrated and dumbfounded with the creative ways they seen the Simulacrum go to ensure they are not coming to blows with each other. While Simulacrum pirates are not unheard of, they are rare and sometimes the Consuls offer bounties to their fellows clone to bring them in before outside entities do so. Akkanar's Blood is not an exception to these rules, much to the Empire's annoyance.

Akkanar's Blood, while having similar origins in training and technology, diverged when they settled in Lustrians Kavor's Rage. Their war with the Khivux on the asteroid habitats/shipyards and their mixing with the Lustrian people/ culture has caused them to create a unique form of combat; Spatial Guerilla Warfare. Using their advanced environmental suits to their advantage, the Simulacrum situated themselves out in different points on the outside of the habitats and shipyards. Fighting in the vacuum of space with traditional weapons, the Khivux would be surprised how many ships of theirs were destroyed due to them focused on an enemy ship and not that unremarkable speck in the distanced. With the Lustrians aid; their EV's gain more astral combat uses then the original; Light bending cloaking, deceleration and acceleration, and gravity condensers. Claims have seen a Simulacrum land on a moving fighter vessel, disabling their ship with one shot. Using the gravity of an astral body to slingshot themselves in a better position. When Akkanar's Blood took The Oath, The Lustrian Government essential invested in the creation of an Astral Paramilitary. With names such as Orion Galatea in charge of R&D, Akkanar's Blood became a force that the Legion respects and the Empire fears.


In most fields, the Simulacrum Legions technology keeps up with the Empire's own. However their gene and cloning technology is one of the most advance in the galaxy. Used to maintain their limited populace, their cloning technology also been essential to their medical endeavors with outside clients. Those seeking replacements for failing organs but refusing to go into cybernetics visit the X-51 Mobile. While still expensive, it is considered a beacon of medical ingenuity and many are willing to go to this frigid ship to learn the bio sciences.

Due to the genetic mutations that they went through over the twenty year war period, the Empire/Khivux/Lustrian/Legion invested heavily into Environmental Suit technology. More meant to keep in the cold temperatures for the Simulacrum, these ICE SHELLS have also been invaluable in the vacuum of space or any other hostile environments. The Simulacrum Shell has been adapted to not only keep in the cold but absorb the surrounding moisture and converted it into it's internal ac unit. In the event there isn't any water vapor to convert, the shell uses the bodily fluids of it's occupant to compensate. Because of these suits and its importance to the Simulacrums comfortability/survival outside the X-51 Mobile, most other races have only seen a Simulacrum fully suited up. Because of their Dina Amor physique, they sometimes get called frost giants or snowmen, as their mere presence lowers the surrounding temperature.

The materials to craft such shells are difficult to come by and are considered a closely guarded secret that even the Empire has not fully cracked. They are loathe to craft or sell these shells to others and is almost considered a second skin to the Simulacrum, with many taking great care of their shells for most of their lives. Eventually it also became a way for others to identify a Simulacrum from one another as they tend to personalize their own shell(based mostly on respective regiments or interests). Most are passed down from clone to clone, as such a Shell could have quite an array of design choices before it becomes almost ornate. Many opportunists will hope to be fortunate enough to claim a shell from a wounded or dead Simulacrum and sell them on the black-markets. Those who do come into possession of one won't have long before a retrieval unit arrives to reclaim it.

The Lustrian research and development team discovered with assistance from Akkanar's Blood, that the original shells were created from the unknown alloy on Dinaxis. As more clones were created Akkanar needed a more reliable material without taking from the rare resource on his home world. Therefore he artificially created the alloy after studying the samples he had collected. While the artificial creation of the alloy continues on the Legion's home ship, Akkanar's Blood decided to use Lustrian technology to maintain their shells.

The Simulacrum have a natural resistance to cold environments due to their Dina Amor DNA. However over the twenty war period genetic mutations have cause their natural body temperature to change drastically. There normal body temperature range is -1.7, -3.7 Celsius ( 25.334, 28.94 Fahrenheit) and they even evolved an antifreeze protein in their genetic code. More specifically their AFP (Antifreeze Protein) is classified as freeze tolerant by Empire scientists, meaning there body freezes like other organics but do not suffer the damage caused by the freezing. Many a scavenger was shocked to discover that their recently acquired ICE SHELL still had a living Simulacrum once they entered warmer temperatures.

That being said, their intolerance to warmer climates increased heavily and they are prone to Hyperthermia when not in there preferred temperature ranges. For clients who hire a Simulacrum for longer periods of time, suitable accommodations for that Simulacrum are discussed before the agreement of any contract. Some clients also have to accept even if you give a Simulacrum a refrigerated room, out of there SHELL, they tend to dress comfortably. While not completely unclothed due to safety and respect, many are surprised to see their trained killer/guard dressed in shorts and a tank, when off the clock.


The base for the militarized Simulacrum is a pure-blooded Dina Amor male. While genetic mutations due occur and are no longer scrutinized, the majority of Simulacrum have a uniformed physical appearance;

Paler than the Dina Amor, some claim their skin looks almost translucent in the right light. Standing at a uniform 7'5, they also have a higher body mass. While most of the Simulacrum keep their silver hair untouched for the first two cycles, as a Simulacrum gets older they began dyeing/decorating there hair all sorts of colors. Their eye color range seems to follow the warm spectrum(browns, oranges, reds, etc.), which thankfully has convinced the more dogmatic of Dina Amor, there contact with the unnamed alloy of Dinaxis must be minimum at best.

The most stand out feature of the Simulacrum is their red birthmarks. The Empire has no clue as the caused of this both uniformed but entirely random genetic strain. Each Simulacrum has a physical feature on their body that is colored a vivid ruby red. It can be simple as a patch of skin discoloration or as specific as red eyebrows. In truth it's the synthetic creation of an alloy and it's inclusion in the cloning process. While there seems to be no clear advantages to this mutation it is impossible to remove without erasing the original base that Akkanar created; Something the Simulacrum would never do.

Aging at an accelerated rate compared to the Dina Amor; the Simulacrum have their ages broken into cycles. With one cycle equating to six Imperial years growth wise. While at first the Empire had them come out fully grown, they eventually transition into cycles on assistance of Akkanar. The idea is that since the younger brain would be able to absorb information, the Empire can train these soldiers for multiple roles if given the time. The compromise was the cycle which is use to this day by all Simulacrum.​

~~contributed by (Tutari)
 
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