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Futuristic The Crew

Jagson

One Thousand Club
Welcome to the Flying Access Crew these are the following spots
Roles
The Captain me

1st officer Bard Bard Bard Bard

Helmsman Princess Roomba Princess Roomba


Muscle Scrubzie Scrubzie

Engineer Vahn Vahn

Doctor CallMeBryn CallMeBryn

Muscle #2


Sign up sheets
Name:

Age:

Race

Role:

Appearance: either describe or get a picture

Skills

History tell us about yourself


Mine
Name: Drake McGregor

Age: 25

Race: Human of Avalonian decent

Role Captain

Appearance: stands at six feet exact, has short black hair with Velvet eyes. He has a scar going from his left eyebrow to his hairline causing the hair near the scar to turn white.

Skills: Leadership, Charisma, riffle and small gun training, power armor training

History: Drake grew up on the industrial planet Avalon. At a young age he would start doing minor jobs and tasks to help keep a roof over his and his mother's head.
Like all youth in Alliance held space he was conscripted into their military at the age of seventeen. He was placed in the 99th Armored Infantry Division Aces Company. He would see combat during the Mulich Incursion. He would participate in the battle of Arcadia losing ninety percent of his platoon.

After his mandatory term of service was completed he used what money he saved and bought an out of date rusting TZ-2 Storm Hawk Corvette he named the Flying Access.

After a few failed ventures realizing just how bad galactic trade and most things were he started to take up smuggling to make even on his ship. He decided to take jobs that were benefitting planets that otherwise would be forgotten or neglected
 
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Name: Arno Gladston A.K.A. "Glass"

Age: 30

Race: Human

Role: Muscle

Appearance: Arno "Glass" Gladston is 6' 1", 190 Lbs. Pale skin covered in scars from battles past. He wears a full face Exo Helmet fitted with HUD, a built in voice modulator and a dark tinted visor. A cloak covers bits and pieces of balistic battle armor covering vital areas. He utilizes a customized old model variable charge beam rifle slung over his shoulder as his primary weapon, his sidearm is a small machine pistol he keeps holstered on his outer thigh. He utilizes an obselete overshield/active camoflage unit. His helmet and cloak covers most of his body but he has extensive cybernetic augmentations including a his right arm from the shoulder down, his right eye, and his right leg from the knee down. A handful of grenades are strapped to his belt.

Equipment Details:

Skills: Muay Thai, Beam Rifle Specialist, Some experience with most weapon types, Infiltration

History: Arno remembers nearly nothing of his early childhood. He grew up an orphan in the slums of his home planet. Stealing to survive and living as an urchin. Eventually, he found his place at a small martial arts gym where he learned an old world fighting style known as "Muay Thai", the "Science of Eight Limbs" that emphasizes heavily on striking(punches, kicks, knees, elbows).

Arno studied and lived here well into late adolescence in exchange for his labor at his dojo. Eventually he fell into the underground fighting scene and started making money through violence. This led him to start working as an enforcer for a local gang known as The Spiders.

Over the years Arno has held many titles: Fighter, Thug, Muscle, Bouncer, Enforcer, Hitman, Headhunter, Bodyguard. Eventually he distanced himself from The Spiders, a capital crime among their order. He stowed away on a freighter and left his home world.

Arno Gladston assumed the alias "Glass" and spent the rest of his days working as something of a soldier of fortune never staying in one place for too long. He used his skills where he could to make money. He was always compensated(though not always well) but he still remains relatively poor and the cost of his equipment and cybernetics to offset his massive list of on the job injuries sustained has kept him from ever creating any real savings.

His most notable cybernetics, his right arm, leg and eye were purchased after he was greviously injured by a grenade. His beam rifle is the first weapon he ever bought. He knows it inside and out. It has a red and silver casing and has had many small mods installed over the years.

Arno has a "6th sense" for the battlefield. He has lived through many instances where he should have died and whether its a supernatural gift or dumb luck is anyones guess. He certainly won't start asking questions now.

After spending his whole life struggling and doing morally dubious work, Arno longs to turn the page and do some work that can make a positive impact on peoples lives so maybe others wont have to live like him. Deep down, he feels as though a happy ending may be too good for somebody with so much blood on their hands.
 
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cilphi.jpg

Name
: Cilphi Xe'lok

Age: 26

Race: Hidnorian, a humanoid species from the planet Hidnora that is differentiated from humans mainly by their stony skin colors, deliberate, glittering scars, and their luminous, gemlike eyes. They are typically tall and statuesque, and are a really robust species that can withstand (and recover fairly quickly from) physical harm, though they aren't invulnerable.

Role: Doctor

Appearance:


At 5'11", she's considered a bit short for her race. Her skin is dark grey and smooth, like a dark slate, and her long dreadlocks, which are usually in a messy bun atop her head, are black. Her eyes look like two round black opals have settled where a pair of normal eyes should be. Her scars are simple and minimal, mostly a series of lines and circles, that hold a lot of meaning to her. Both the scars and her eyes appear to glow gently from within, especially in the dark. They change color depending on how light hits them. She's typically wearing a black lab coat and a leather chest holster that she really uses for ammo and emergency stim packs.

Skills: Healing, Calm under pressure, a quick learner and a pretty good shot with a laser crossbow.

History: Hidnora is a planet populated by a species of people that Cilphi would say were "mostly xenophobic under the mask of nationalism". They often judge and punish other species on arbitrary things to make themselves appear better than all others. Though they are a well-off planet with many amazing things to trade across the galaxy, they are often judged as an unlikeable species because of their ideals.

Cilphi grew up in a small encampment, where refugees often settled after facing the harsh rejection of the planet's cities and people. It wasn't the most affluent place but it was home, and it had been a good community to grow up in. Her father was also a doctor, and he had moved to the encampment to offer his services to travelers when no one in the cities would.

It was there that her father taught her the art of medicine, the acceptance and appreciation of others, and staying calm in times of panic. Refugees who befriended her father taught her to shoot and defend herself. Her father quickly realized she had a natural talent for medicine and healing, so with the help of the community and some of his old connections, he managed to save up enough to get her into one of the most influential schools on the planet so she could study the trade when she was fifteen.

Cilphi excelled at the school, studying healing techniques for many of the different species of the galaxy and surpassing the expectations of the affluent members of the college. After 10 years of study she was to graduate with some of the consistently highest grades among her class. A noble of a fellow student, however, who had an unjustified and personal vendetta against her, was upset that that her successes surpassed his and took it upon himself to ruin her.

A complaint evolved into biting rumors, which led to Cilphi's eventual banishment from the school. An investigation occurred, and she was to be arrested for practicing without a license (the fact that she had apprenticed for her father was flimsy evidence at best, but the government would have been happy to put her away for less in order to stay in the rich family's favor.) With no degree, no license to practice, and a warrant on her back, Cilphi took off into the galaxy, hoping to evade her pursuers, spare her father and friends from getting caught in the crossfire, and hopefully help heal the ailing people of the galaxy along the way. She hopes to go back home one day to see her father, but it has only been a year and her home government is still hot on her heels... so she's not sure she ever will.
 
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Name(s):

Commune Security Unit #15 (Official Designation)

Asheljahaimu (translated: Nest of Perdition)(Unofficial Name)

Malquillu Tisabi (Translated: Bastion of Usurpation)(Preferred Name)

Age:
100

Race:
Biomechnical Cyborg

Role:
Muscle

Appearance:
turbo_killer__by_duster132-dase0y8.jpg
Give your Lunch by Duster132.jpg
Exoskeleton. by Duster132.jpg

He is comprised of a mixture of synthetic and lab grown organic components woven into a massive eight foot tall frame. His colours are a mixture of dark green, jet black, and bloody red with his head being skull like and white.

Skills:

CQC (armed and unarmed), machine communication, heavy weapons, cybernetics/bio/augmentative technology, urban navigation and exploration, repair and modification of technology. Due to residual elements of both an engineered anti-virus and an eldritch alien virus it was meant to combat, he has functionally what is "magical" power albeit at the cost of harming his body as well as advanced control over electricity.

History tell us about yourself:

An enormous, sapient, cynthetic cyborg created by one of the many smaller independent settlements found on board the Black City, an enormous constantly-expanding space station made of a mixture of alien and human technology. The City in reality was intended to be a grand social experiment for self-contained settlements and nations within its great size but a mysterious reality-warping virus would one day take over its central processing unit, sending it into chaos and conflict. CSU#15 was created during the opening years of the viral takeover as the larger states began to move in on absorbing the smaller independent settlements. Created less so as a living tool and moreso as both protector and inhabitant, he was as much a guardian against the infected security systems and depths-spawned monstrosities emerging from the depths of the now rapidly growing city as he was a beloved member of his growing, strong commune.

The larger growing corpo-feudalist states however saw the independence of the communes and smaller settlements as both a liability in the wake of the growing viral threat as well as too prominent of an alternative to their growing hegemony over the station. In a bid for a "unified front" against the growing horde of defected security systems and the viral menace, they began to draw in smaller settlements and communes into their orbit, promising protection and prosperity even as they began to corrupt and take over the in-built Black City security systems that already were protecting many of them. Many of them began to organize into smaller unions, taking advantage of new areas that were rapidly growing around the City and thus making it harder for the larger states to control them. In order to break their power and the growing threat of the powerful cyborgs that protected many of them, they began a grand plan to eliminate both problems in one grand swoop. The first was to isolate the independent settlements from the rest of the City. The second was to direct the growing viral hordes towards them.

They had to sell the idea of a greater alliance, promising a multilateral sharing of power and a united front against mutual extinction. CSU#15 was skeptical given prior dealings with the hegemonic states, but unfortunately, many of his fellow cyborgs were fooled not by promises of power and wealth but protection and augmentation along with the offerings of rare technology from the depths of the massive city. He nonetheless joined up on this front, unaware that even the few select "upgrades" he had chosen had small fragments of the virus. During a great push to forced back the viral spread and reclaim key territories, he and a number of other cyborgs were spread out in ambushes meant to strike the vital components of the forthcoming onslaught with 15 prepared for the heaviest fighting of his lifetime. State forces had prepared powerful armies that would sweep in once the enemy was disrupted by the initial series of cyborg lead attacks with his particular job being to attakc one of the enormous living computer modules that was coordinating the coming barbarous horde, some of which was comprised of corrupted members of once friendly settlements.

The initial phases went off to a great start with the relatively smaller cyborg groups punching far above their weight, practically crippling the momentum of the enemy in spite of being outnumbered 3 to 1. The problem was that they could only keep the momentum up for so long and 15 found himself desperately asking for the backup they could even see with their agumented sight off int he distance. What they were instead greeted with was a sudden crippling, agonizing pain seizing up their bodies as their internal systems began to lock up and a strange, foreign, yet upon closer inspection familiar presence began to swarm through their systems. Their combat upgrades had installed specialized "seeds" of viral contagion, modified to be able to be controlled, rendering them helpless before the abominations that surrounded them... abominations that went from tearing apart the vulnerable cyborgs to suddenly removing themselves from them. As their bodies began to shift and tear themselves apart, many of their minds followed, adding to the monstrous army as they began to spread this modified anti-virus amongst them.

Yet now their immense power was in the employ of the enemy and the states underestimated just how powerful they became. Settlements that had joined in for the sake of survival now found an enemy they were ill prepared to fight, physically, cybernetically, and spiritually, storming towards them. Once beloved friends and family in the cyborgs were now reverted to little more than berserk barbarians, ripping through viral forces sometimes to slaughter those they had once sworn themselves to as loved ones and protectors. In this carnage, 15 lost track of what had happened but was able to a degree to regain some control but not without having slaughtered whole families. In his anger during this state of semi-consciousness, he would lead a charge on the enormous processor-leader of the viral forces that was slowly consuming his place of creation. Around this time, a true state-lead counter-offensive would begin, realizing that if it wanted to decapitate its greatest threats, now was the time. In this berserk state of min however, 15 saw the virus and the states as little more than the same thing.

Storming into the heart of the enormous machine, tearing through its countless internal defences, he did somethign that would earn him the name of "Perdition's Nest". Injecting the state-made antivirus into the enormous machine, he began to absorb the pure essence of the reality-warping core-virus itself. Already able to partially resist it thanks to the anti-virus, he and his now augmented companions began to crush a bloody path through the enemy lines right as plasma and missile artillery hammered on their positions in a desperate attempt by the states to wipe them out. What they didn't expect was the ones they had betrayed proceeding to smash through their lines as they emerged from the wreckage, wielding obscene and alien powers and the horde of ravenous machines not far behind them. Viral machines that while weakened, knew softer prey when they saw it. One of the most horrific butcheries of human and alien life began as the unstable, berserk cyborgs and those machines and reanimated nano-bot ridden organisms bent to their will slaughtered both sides alike, driven by incoherent and vile hatred and confusion.

It would take the combined efforts of the non-corrupted security systems and another human-alien army to subjugate them all but some of the cyborgs, 15 included, had simply overloaded and deactivated from the strain. Others even embraced this vile new power, vanishing into the monstrous depths of the city. In guilt, others turned themselves in or simply self destructed, others fighting against the traitorous states when they realized the full scope of what they had committed. However, some of the most powerful containment processes and protocols were unleashed as the City's inbuilt security systems revealed their true power, something that rivalled that of the Virus itself. Without consulting the humans and aliens they had allied with, the mysterious machines captured many of the cyborgs. Some vanished into its depths but others like 15, were forcibly ejected from the station, exiled to far away worlds as punishment and as security measures. 15 knows however that there are other reasons.

Ever since then, his appearance has changed, unrecognizable to most except other cyborgs who had been there. He lives a new life as an entity who does odd jobs for odd people, living on the margins and wandering from world to world. Oftentimes, he ends up in warzones, fighting to protect those less fortunate than him and others, hunting down mysterious figures of a similar design, shape, and nature as him. Whatever his plans for the future are is unknown but some believe that the Nest of Perdition desires to return to the city. Whether it is for vengeance or more cryptic desires is not yet known.
 
(WIP?)

Name: Daidai Tahitahi

Age: 23

Race: Mülari
Native to planet Mül, Mülari are humanoid, semi-aquatic, and typically stand around 6’-7’ and weigh 130-170lbs. Mülari are hairless, have white shimmery skin, and are covered in complex chromatophores that reflect touch and emotions. Mülari are somewhat new to the UG, only being introduced 149 Earth years ago when a cargo ship crashed on Mül. Once contacted, Mül’s beautiful beaches quickly led to an influx of tourists, turning the planet into a resort paradise for the rich. Now, the Mülari struggle to balance the growing demands of the tourism industry and the preservation of Mül's environment and the Mulari culture.

Role: Helmsman

Appearance: 6’5” // 145lbs // Teal Eyes // (The Pearls from Valerian)
Daidai typically adorns themselves in lavish and fashionable, but often impractical clothing and accessories. As the Helmsman, Daidai seldom leaves the control room unless they’re not working, leaving them to often take creative liberties when it comes to commonly accepted work clothing. Mülari are often somewhat androgynous beings with a general lack of strict gender roles, and Daidai is no exception. Though technically a male of their species, they accept all pronouns, and fluidly adorn themselves in all different levels and mixes of feminine and masculine attire.

Skills: Piloting // Entertaining // Communication

History: (Short version)
Daidai was born and raised in an average suburb on the outside of Tardulaa (Capital city of Mül), their mother a healer, and their father a healer-turned mechanic. From a young age, their personality shined bright, sometimes so bright it would get them into trouble. When trying to find a solution to their overactive problems, Daidai discovered their true calling… or so they thought. Daidai fell in love with Starfighter racing, a popular sport near the touristy sections of Mül. They were quite good, even competing in the junior MW tournament, though their pro career did not last very long. As the racing-related stress and tension between Daidai and his father continued to grow, a massive engine failure proved strong enough to cause a schism. Just two races in, but without a registered mechanic, Daidai had to forfeit the season. Since then, they have quit UG-regulated Starfighter racing, and have taken their talents elsewhere. After being told “Starfighter racing is different from cargo-ship piloting,” by one too many interstellar delivery companies, Daidai decided to let the work come to him, and became a work-for-hire pilot. Just two jobs in, Daidai has recently been hired for their largest ship yet: The Flying Access, a slightly sketchy job, but with a BIG payoff. Will Daidai finally take gold with this job, or will they strike out once again? Find out on this episode of Space Smugglers! (sorry lol)
 
dwarf2.jpg
Name: Vahn von Wildschwein

Age: 30

Race: Dwarf
Dwarves does have a home planet named Florgas but after joining the Alliance they can usually be found in human colonies. They are normally a short race ranging from 4 feet to 5 feet on range but weighing almost 160 pounds to 220 pounds. Mostly known for defensive walls and engineering feats rather than reckless attacks and reckless abandonment however one should never insult their trademark beards unless one would like to see righteous Dwarven fury.

Role: Engineer

Appearance: Pale skin with short black hair and short beard about 4 feet and weighs about 220 pounds.
Looks to be overweight. Usually wearing a dirty one piece blue jumpsuit with arc welder goggles covering his eyes

Skills: Mechanical repair, Jerry-rigging, Electronic repairs, engine repair, circuit repair, communication system repairs, Hull repairs, power core maintenance and repair

Gear: Mechanic tool kit and arc welder(electrostatic discharge gun and welder).

History:

Vahn von Wildschwein born into the Wildschwein family which were known for building and repairing Starships.

Vahn von Wildschwein was raised with every intent to be just another space naval mechanic as he studied and learned from space naval academy in how to repair a ship while under fire and managing to graduate from space naval academy to be official recognized as a space naval architect and was assigned to a location known as Planet Mul.

There he was stationed as one of the many docking station space naval mechanic, working on ships that come and go at the space station docks.

Feeling burned out with the constant repairs, over demanding work hours and rush jobs for multiple luxury class ships did Vahn decided to quit.

Vahn thought maybe he should try his hand on the smaller Starfighter repairs as a way to relive some of the stress he got on his job but he was looking for something that would not get him in the spotlight and away from doing all those luxury class ships....something like an Starfighter mechanic or pit crew leader as he toiled with the idea in his head at the local bar did a lady approach him and offered him a job.

The job was simple, find a way to hyper charge a Starfighter power core and engine so that it can boost the speed to insane levels. Vahn took the job as the lady made it seemed easy enough and with the way the lady mentioned about how she knew that he was a first rate mechanic and that would be very simple with his expertise.

Not really the best option but at the time no one else was hiring so he asked for the when, where and how much....That same night, they went to the garage of the Starfighter racer where he met racer and the manager and was shown the supposed prototype engine and seeing as the Starfighter chassis need to be modified a bit to accept such an engine, Vahn went to work and he also took note of the number of the Starfigher.

A couple of meetings with the manager would suggest that he was the main financier of this whole hyper charge venture and how it will make certain people very very happy as Vahn listened to the manager and lady while he took his time to fix up the Starfighter chassis, power core and engine. This took weeks to work on but after all the modifications was made and done, Vahn had to ask if they were ever going to test the finished Starfighter however the manager would say that they will test it before the big race next week and let the racer get use to the new Starfighter.

However when the supposed race was supposed to happen and with Vahn in the audience watching the race, did Vahn discover he did too good of a job as the racer did finish first place with ease however the braking system did not work until the Starfighter hit the barrier and exploded...It took Vahn a few seconds to realize that even though he was paid, that probably this was not the result that they wanted so he high tailed it as quickly as possible away from the race track and back to the space station docks with the Mechanic tool kit and arc welder.

With the sole intent of providing his services to the first person getting off Planet Mul and thus he met up with his current employer: Drake McGregor...
 
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Name: Teapot (The names of Hinklins are visual, drawn onto their faces. They pick a name applicable to them for verbal communication with other species).

Age: 59 chronologically, she refuses to say how long she will live for or, as Hinklins put it, her “actual age.”

Race: Hinklin. A species of psychically gifted marsupials with two horns protruding from their brow. Hinklins possess a highly flexible anatomy and are covered in black fur except for the face--hard chitin instead covers their faces, with openings around the eyes, nose, and mouth. They have lanky legs and arms, their hands possessing three 18 centimetre claws for fingers and an additional 12 centimetre claw for a thumb. Additionally, they possess lengthy tails with a plume of fur at the end.

Notably, all Hinklins experience a revelation early in their life, witnessing the return of a god they call the “Honkmother.” In reverence of this being, Hinklins dye their chitin white and create patterns on their faces in vibrant colours -- usually including a red nose.

Role: First Officer

Appearance:
honksig.png
Usually standing in a relaxed, hunched posture at 6’2.” Teapot is almost entirely average for her species, with black fur bearing the slightest hue of walnut brown. Her face, beyond the needle teeth, lazily curved horns and inky sclera, is adorned with a variety of blue tattoos concentrated primarily around her eyes, forming a flower-like pattern around her right eye, and another resembling a teapot around her left.

Teapot wears a puffy, white and red striped jumper with accentuated shoulders and yellow, baggy trousers. She holds her hands in such a way as to hide as much of her claws as possible at any given time.

Skills: Teapot, like all of her species, is innately gifted in psychic abilities. While her own precognition is greatly limited, it is somewhat effective at foretelling events in which those she has connections to feel strong emotions, particularly if these events occurred in the near future. Furthermore, she is a capable empath, able to sense the emotions of beings around her.

Drawing from her psychic strengths, she is adept at counseling, emotional and psychiatric advice as well as negotiation. Furthermore, having known the significance starships would play in her future, she has extensive knowledge of ship systems, though how theory translates to practical ability remains unseen.

In regards to weapons usage she is mostly clueless, her empathic nature preventing her from harming others. As such, she has only basic training with pistols, with her preferred weapon being a psychedelic baton, a strike from which can induce strong hallucinations, designed to peacefully deter attackers.

Additionally, being a marsupial she can store small objects within her pouch, though this is highly uncomfortable for her to do, mentally speaking.

History: The lives of Hinklins are, strictly speaking, not as linear as they might seem, with the future, present and past sometimes being one and the same to them. They are also deeply personal, the happenings and experiences across it being the ultimate definition of self, so much so their names are a tapestry of feelings and moments from across their lifetime. Teapot is no exception, keeping almost all of her history a secret. What she does tell is that she was born on a geothermally active rogue planet called Comicasteria.

Her duty, like all Hinkins, is to the Honkmother, to whom she is a faithful and devout servant. She helps make the universe in the Honkmother’s image, through helping small starship crews find happiness, contentment and humour. Thus, having met and become friends with Drake McGregor shortly after he had completed his tour of service, she joined him when he bought the corvette “Flying Access.”
 

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