Space Junkies CS

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Space Junkies CS

Post by Mach2 » Wed May 15, 2019 7:43 pm

CSes go here!

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Re: Space Junkies CS

Post by Annasiel » Thu May 16, 2019 7:34 am


A modern day Pippi Longstocking -- with 54% more explosions.


Name: Edison.

She picked it herself, and she's quite proud of it, so don't be spouting no nonsense about "Edison was a hack" this and "Tesla is better" that or she'll lob a spanner at your head.


24, probably.

Might've lost count somewhere in there.


Approximately 162.56 cm.

That's 5'4 in imperial, 5.
if you're being pedantic, and 5 dot infinite threes if you're Edison.


How'd you like it if some sod-for-brains asked you how much you weighed???

Kidding, kidding. 57.6 kg, or ~127 lbs.


If it's broke, I can fix it. If it's fixed, I can break it and fix it up better!

Edison has a near-photographic memory, though it can be quite selective in what it's able to recall. Something that she's incredibly passionate about - like the proper layout of high-capacity photon condensers - might be burned into her brain deeper than a sandworm in a desert, but something less important, like crewmate birthdays, have a tendency to slip by unnoticed. Her propensity for mechanical and electrical systems is on par or even surpassing a professional grade, despite her self-taught nature. Being an outsider to the field, though, finding solutions to the problems are often much more important than so-called "proper protocol" and "safe operations," so it's best to keep a few feet away from anything she's tinkered with and avoid touching it without her nearby. That is, unless you fancy being handless. Being handless is cool.

You can get a neat hook, like one of them pirate guys, and wave it around in people's faces whenever you want 'em to go away.


Gifted with steady hands and her aforementioned academic acumen, she also doubles in as the ship doctor. She can fix up most basic wounds, ranging from lesions to burns to broken bones, though you're more than likely to get stuck with a piece of rebar to bite instead of any proper anesthetic. For more complex stuff, like surgery, being in her care is certainly better than sitting around with a ruptured spleen, but it might be in your best interest to go to an...


actual doctor instead.

Despite her intelligence and skills, or perhaps partly because of them, Edison is a mess when it comes to people. She tries. She really tries. A lifetime alone on a desert planet with only a dying ship computer to chat with has a habit of stunting one's social development, and probably knocks a few screws loose in the process. While she can be described as outgoing, in a sense, her idea of holding a conversation tends to be filled with one-sided monologues, non-sequitors, and jokes that offend more than they amuse. She can also switch at the drop of a pin, going from talkative to moody, withdrawn, and passive-aggressive with no apparent cause whatsoever. This, combined with bursts of manic obsession whenever she finds a New Interesting Thing, makes her a bit of a pain to be around.

I look in the water and fear what I see
I know it's no stranger but I know it's not me
My life is a lie that was uttered in jest
If I can't change at all, let me rest

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Re: Space Junkies CS

Post by Mach2 » Fri May 17, 2019 3:22 pm

Access: Cortex
Access: Alliance Personnel Files
Access: Granted
File: Mallory Chang
Personal Records:
Personal Identifier...CH-MA-2507-314.c
Homeworld...............Clement's Moon

Identifying Information:
Hair..........................Dk Brown
Eye...........................Dk Brown

Additional Information:
- Osiris Flight Academy - Class of 2527

Criminal Record
- Docking Infraction [2]
- Expired Registration [1]

- Unknown
Encryption detected
Enter key:
Thank you for that.
Decryption successful
Alias detected: Mallory Chang
Access: Hoy
File: Mallory Hoy
Father.............................Su Hoy
Mother...........Eleanor Hoy (née Anders)
Siblings...............See attached files

- N/A

Criminal Record: See attached files

Affiliations: Hoy Empire, Tanaka-Hoys
Personal Records:
Personal Identifier..HO-MA-2507-cX92.1
Ethnicity............Caucasian/Ntv. Am

Identifying Information:
Hair..........................Dk Brown
Eye...........................Dk Brown
Mallory Hoy is the youngest daughter of Eleanor and Su Hoy. With thirteen years between her and the next-youngest Hoy sibling, it's safe to say that she was an accident. The Hoys already had seven children. They did not intend to have an eighth. They did not want an eighth. something something consequences of an unplanned child.

Mallory scarcely knew her parents. She was raised mostly by her siblings - most of whom, by the time Mallory was a toddler, were already adults. As Mallory grew up, she was moved from one ship to another. From Rafael's drug-trading operation (with child-protective locks on all the cupboards) to Nadia and Conor's crew of mercenaries. Every now and then, a weekend with Darius, aboard his trafficking ship. She learned to ignore the crying from below deck. Lydia was ruthless, but fiercely protective of her youngest sister. Typically, she never stayed on anyone's ship for more than a week or so at a time. Her family were criminals and their vessels were no place for a child - as crew and coworkers often pointed out.

The exception was her oldest brother. Out of all her siblings, Mallory liked Maxwell's ship the most. It was a smuggling vessel. The Devil's Own. Full of hiding places and hidden treasures. Nooks and crannies where she could tuck herself away. Corners where only a small child could fit. Maxwell had the smallest crew, and those least averse to a child aboard their ship. It was from Max and his crew that she learned most of the things a normal child would learn in school. Reading. Writing. Counting and math was taught with screws and bolts from the engine room.

Of course, reading materials suitable for a child were scarce on a smuggler's ship.

It wasn't long after learning the alphabet that Mallory progressed to the only other available materials. Flight manuals. Engine records. Pilots logs. By the time she was twelve years old, Mallory knew the ins and outs of how to manoeuvre a spacecraft. By age fourteen, her brother finally let her into the cockpit. She was gifted, and began piloting the Devil's Own on jobs that required hastier getaways. Over the next few years, word of Mallory's prowess reached the rest of her siblings, and the Hoy family made use of their youngest sister's talents.

There were logical career trajectories. Enlist in the Alliance military. Enrol in flight school - Osiris Academy would have been the best. Even a smaller training facility for a job as a courier would have worked. But every legitimate option required a background check. Prerequisites included a formal education and a clean criminal record. Even if she hadn't grown up aiding criminal activity, she would be an accomplice on the basis of her last name alone.

So she abandoned it.

At age 20, Mallory severed all ties. She'd saved her credits, hoarding them away in a bank account none of her siblings could access. She hired a programmer - an Alliance-trained rogue hacker. A good encryptionist can alter a Cortex ID to say someone died. A great one - the kind Mallory saved up for - could make it as though they never existed at all.

On May 25th, 2527, Mallory Hoy was written out of existence. And Mallory Chang was created.

DOB: 2486-12-16
Age: 49
Homeworld: Redhill
Occupation: Smuggler

Known History:
Maxwell Hoy is the eldest of the Hoy siblings, and arguably the least criminally-inclined. Were it not for his occasional transport of illegal goods, and his even less frequent transport of illegal goods for his siblings, he may not even be on the Alliance's watchlist. But the last name 'Hoy' is an automatic red flag on any radar.

Maxwell's operation is not large. He flies a small ship - The Devil's Own - piloted by a small crew, and takes on small jobs. Just enough to stay in the air, and not enough to attract attention. His network of suppliers is narrow, and he keeps close tabs on all his contacts. Even moreso after the disappearance of his youngest sister. It's safer that way.

DOB: 2488-05-13
Age: 47
Homeworld: Redhill
Occupation: Mercenaries, extortionists, con artists

Known History: As the second-eldest Hoy siblings, Nadia and Conor were able to complete the entirety of their education before the family's occupations began to shift towards the greyer areas of the law. The twins are highly intelligent. They graduated at the top of their class, with nearly identical grades, and went on to pursue secondary training.
Conor enlisted with the Alliance military, and even fought in the war for a few years. He deserted his squad just months before the Frontier worlds surrendered. Nadia enrolled at a Capital academy, where she pursued Companion training. She was gifted, but dropped out months before graduation - at the same time her brother deserted the military.
Today, the two are a household name, with 'WANTED' posters plastered in nearly every port. Men, and women, know to stay away from them. But there's a lot of non-too-bright folk in the 'Verse who think that they'll be the one to win over the infamous Nadia Hoy. They bring her home. Or she brings them home. When you've got someone's pants down and a knife to their throat, it turns out they're willing to pay a fancy sum of credits to get out of the whole situation.

DOB: 2490-03-14
Age: 45
Homeworld: Redhill
Occupation: Slaver, trafficker

Known History: Darius has never had much respect for lives other than his own. His tendencies started young, trapping animals in the forest behind his home, and selling them at the local market. Some customers bought them as pets. Some bought them as meat. He didn't care much about the distinction, until he puzzled out that the 'pets' fetched a higher price. People like to own things.

You can't very well sell humans as meat. But people will pay all kinds of credits for the right pet. Over the years, Darius has established quite the market. He has contacts in all the seediest regions of the Satellite belt. Give him a description of your pet, and he'll quote you a price. Labourers. Women. Young'uns. He doesn't much care about the distinction, as long as he gets his cash.

DOB: 2491-08-30
Age: 44
Homeworld: Redhill
Occupation: Mercenary

Known History:
Lydia Tanaka-Hoy is the only Hoy sibling who ever married, at the age of twenty. Her husband was killed a month after the wedding, by someone out for revenge against Lydia's brother Rafael. A drops-addict who could hardly figure out which way to hold the gun, but managed to achieve lucidity just long enough to fire a shot into Jun's skull. Lydia tracked him down, and returned the bullet two weeks later.

She's kept her late husband's name, and hasn't stopped killing since. Only now, she fires rounds on behalf of other people. And she gets paid for it.

DOB: 2493-04-01
Age: 42
Homeworld: Redhill
Occupation: Drug trader

Known History: Most substances are highly regulated in the twenty-sixth century. But along with the dozens of medical advances, there have been dozens of innovations in black market drugs. Among them, the most addictive - and the most sought-after - is 'drops'. Drops are euphoric when taken, and withdrawal induces rage, despair, and panic.

Rafael has a quite the stock of drops. In addition to every other substance on the market. Lux. Trivene. Red. Uppers, downers, hallucinogens, steroids. Scattered across a small fleet of shipping vessels, Rafael's empire is worth billions. He's a businessman, and strictly enforces the 'don't get high on your own supply' rule, citing his self-coined version of the phrase: 'touch the supply, and you'll fuckin' die'.

DOB: 2494-11-10
DOD: 2513-11-08
Homeworld: Redhill
Occupation: N/A (Deceased)

Known History: Vander Hoy worked closely with Rafael Hoy as a teenager. She had a knack for certain artisanal skills. She was a brilliant chef, and a gifted chemist. She developed many of the processes he still uses for production of his drugs, and even introduced a few new substances to the market. One of them was Lux. She was sixteen when she brewed the first batch, and her addiction began in her thrown-together lab, inhaling the fumes off her new development.

It was only after Lux became an established favourite in the marketplace that the fatal withdrawal symptoms came to light. People were dying, of either overdose or withdrawal-related heart failure. Three years later, Vander followed the first path, overdosing just days before her twentieth birthday.
Last edited by Mach2 on Fri May 24, 2019 1:51 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Lord of Nothing
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Re: Space Junkies CS

Post by Lord of Nothing » Tue May 21, 2019 11:00 am

"A man ain't always born being able to do what he wants to do. If you wanna make yourself somethin', you gotta put the hammer to yourself."

-Michael's Mother, Tabby.
Name: Michael Abel

Age: 27

Height: 5 ft 10

Weight: 165 pounds.


Michael was raised on the rough frontiers. His dad was once in prison. His mom, was a guard. Together, for Michael, they forged a childhood that some would describe as "hell" and yet to Michael, it wasn't anything. He didn't really know any different and in his opinion, he came out better because of it. His parents pushed him and he eventually became a little more than the other boys who were plowing the fields and scooping up shit. He eventually went out and decided he wanted to well, become a soldier.

See, Michael always liked shiny and complicated things. People (including his parents) would call him "Kaput" on account of how dumb he was and on how he would work his ass off to try and get the money to buy some fancy new Doodad. And he wasn't half bad at getting the money for the small things he wanted. He'd get it, take it apart and try to put it back together. Time and time again, he would always fail. He could never really put the pieces back together for quite some time. A boy off in the alliance college might have taken days to do what it took Michael years of just on and off trial and error. All along the way, he couldn't think of anything more to drive him then his hate. He'd work and work and work. And when he couldn't put a thing back together, he'd just go back to working and doing what he does best. What was in his blood.

Michael's dad, Jack, had a past, but he felt like time out there was no better reformation. He did his time now he could right. It was here he could put his talents to use. Raiders threatened to plunder the town, sometimes from offworld, some times not. Society had clearly shown that it wasn't so advanced as to not need resources and violence, and on the frontier where fast hands are a dime and a dozen, the town needed all the help they could get. Jack Abel watched his son closely, and decided to give his son a gun. At the age of 10, Michael killed a man. When his father asked him how felt...

"I on't really feel nothin. I...just shot 'em and that's that I guess. He's dead and I ain't."

When Michael turned 13, his father allowed him to join him on his handi-work, enforcing the law and going out with other men to arrest and kill anyone who dared give their tiny town trouble.

Michael kinda grew indifferent to the whole prospect, and it was fun. Didn't stop him from workin' though. Michael could really plow a field and pick up shit, better than a lot of people. But he didn't particularly like doing that. He liked things shinier than shit. So when a military recruiter came to town, asking for hands to join in the alliance war, why, Michael saw no better opportunity to make something of himself and get out of the shithole he was in. See what the whole damn universe had to offer. He sat down with him, and when the recruiter told him about the "Combat Engineer" M.O.S? If Mike signed the paper any faster, it'd have caught on fire.

Fast forward a whole lotta years and Mike's saved up a good amount of money. Figure he's done with that whole military shit. He's ready to go out and about the universe, without a liberty buddy and a curfew next time.

Skills and Capabilities

A background in the frontier and a combat engineer has given Michael a rather useful skillset.


Michael finds that he is pretty damn good with the gun. As a combat engineer, Michael was forced to be in isolated and sometimes vulnerable areas. Rebels would spontaneously attack and attempt to destroy the things he worked so damn hard to make. He wouldn't ever let them tear it down without a helluva fight.

He's good with all kindsa weapons, but really likes to set up shop with a nice Full Automatic Battle Rifle for longer range engagements. For fortifications in more urban areas and tighter spaces, he favors a good old fashioned shotgun.

Building (and fixin') Stuff

As a combat engineer, Michael build roads, bridges, trenches, fences and a whole lot of other stuff you don't generally see on a space ship. He also grew up in a place where people would go out into the woods and the desert to hide away for a long time. However, if one were to stop on some off world planet and were to wanna make a compound around the ship to more ideally defend it or rough it a good ways from the ship, Mike is your man.

However, when it comes to stuff outside of this, he kinda struggles. Wasn't exactly the best mechanic around, but he knows his way around a car. A space ship is a little harder though.

One thing Michael does know how to build well is guns. He can make homemade bullets for shotguns (things can fire pretty much anything with some gunpower and a 12 gauge plastic shell) and he is skilled in gun maintenance and also assembly.

Blowing Shit up

A dubious profession, Michael is capable of making and defusing a wide variety of IEDs. From C4, to Semtex, to TNT, to RDX, HMX and everything in between. Clumped into this category are even munitions such as Napalm, White Phosphorus, thermite and other things that are dangerous enough to eat through a ship.

He likes to take his bomb and add various pieces of metal, making bombs that are either fragmentation based and use common metals like steel. Or, he can take a malleable metal like copper and make an bomb capable of exploding and sending said piece of metal at such speed as to be able to pierce around a solid foot or so of steel. Though this can easily increase given more explosive material and metal for an all around bigger bomb.

Michael has a past of taking out enemy ships with charges, handling Electromagnetic charges and for putting bombs in just the right place to bury men alive in bunkers.


Michael didn't spend a whole lotta time fighting people. He has a hard enough time thinking as it is. But he knows some of the basics of CQC. The engagement of targets within a hundred meters. Ideally, he fights pretty damn well with a gun in his hand. And also pretty well with a knife, being that it's pretty easy to just stab someone over and over.

His hands are a very fast, and though he doesn't hit very hard, he knows the right places to hit and won't hesitate to hit them when it comes time to throw hands, and he knows how to do a pretty mean rear naked choke when he needs to.
Bashanipal,The Accursed
Voracious, The Vampire Vagabond
Styx, The Bullet Witch
Sudden Death, Malcom the Merciful
HossDaBoss,The Backyard Drug Lord
Belle, Delighted Fledgling of the Damned
Auspex, Your Friendly Neighborhood Domestic Terrorist
Mera The Merciless,A Once God of War
Ms. Mayhem, The Mayor of beatdown town
Ultra, The Psycho Crusher
Grevious, The Cosmic Draconian Conqueror
Melinoe, The Gift of Death

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Deus Mortis
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Re: Space Junkies CS

Post by Deus Mortis » Tue May 21, 2019 9:49 pm







Home World:




Eye Color:

Anthony Johnson.
"Says it at the top, moron."




190.5 cm / 6 feet, 3 inches

90.7 kg / 200 lbs

Dark Brown

Anthony Johnson is a man without a plan.

For most of his life, Johnson has drifted from point A to point B in life, walking until he went through points C through Z. As someone born on Persephone, he had few options in life as he was one of the many unfortunate to not be born into high society. The back alleys and slums were soon apart of his home and the gang he was inducted into, his family. For the first twenty years of his life, Johnson had little to no goals or ambitions, content with staying with his gang and working some reliable factory job on the side until he died. That all changed when the military came-a-calling.

Oh, did you think a recruiter hit Anthony up? Oh no. That’s not at all what happened. Anthony had already rejected a few recruiters for the U.A.P when he was growing. How he got into the military was a series of unfortunate events that left him with two choices: go to jail for an assault charge or join the armed forces. The choice was pretty obvious to him.

Took him six or so years to make Sergeant. Took him six years to figure out that the military was a load of horseshit too. When his contract was over (same year), Anthony left and did not look back. Only took him a few months to get back into his adolescent habit of falling into the wrong crowd. Only difference was now that he’s seen some shit.

It didn’t take him long to drift apart from his gang and roam the deeper levels of crime inside of Persephone’s criminal circuit, drifting from courier to a gunman to even a hitman as his jobs have taken him from planet to planet. His most recent position was that of an enforcer for a highly reputable mob, with enforcer in this case being synonymous for an “everyman”. Couple of weeks ago, he quit after one final job. One that might have put him a bit too high on the radar for him to try anything big or consistent for a while.

It was why he found himself joining up with some gang of nobodies aboard their low-budget starship. Time to see how this one played out.



Johnson was a fine soldier during his time in service, having been trained in marksmanship, basic CQC skills, land navigation, etc and etc. If there’s two things he knows, it’d be his way around a gun and his way around a guy’s guard to sock him right on his stupid, fucking chin. Time in the military, consistent training, and consistent use since then have helped him keep his marksmanship levels up on the scale. His hand-to-hand abilities should not be surprising with Johnson’s younger days of street-fighting and high amounts of strength and constitution.

When it comes to skills he’s picked up away from the military, things become a bit more shadier. Common criminal techniques and skills were taught or learned by him in some way or another, with things such as lockpicking, sleight-of-hand robbery, and tracking a target being among some of the things in his repertoire. Additionally, though not lastly, Anthony is often capable of getting into connection with a fellow criminal figure on most planets, such a thing being much more difficult on more civilized worlds or ones with a heavier Alliance presence.

Arguably the most important, Johnson is quite a cook. He’d make his grandmother proud. Hell, he’d probably make yours proud too.

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Re: Space Junkies CS

Post by _KC » Thu May 23, 2019 5:00 pm

"I'm going to bleed all over you"
Name: Hsu Ke Kao (Ke Ko)
Age: 23
Height: 165 cm
Role: Systems Officer
Ethnicity: Asian
Citizenship: Lan'Er
Code © Reyn 2019

Hailing from an inky blue satellite world; a resource-rich star that turned into an off-capital hub of trade and high-end manufacturing once its valuable minerals ran dry. During her starry-eyed youth, Ke Kao was driven by an intense sense of pride and patriotic duty. Bent on achieving great feats of honor for her planet on the grand interstellar stage, she applied for and was accepted into her home world's military academy. Trained in cyber warfare during her time there as a cadet, Ke Ko ended her studies after being dishonorably discharged for insubordination. Whether it was through a sense of betrayal or shame, Ke Ko swore to do whatever it took to get off-planet. She took on any number of odd jobs aboard foreign merchant or mercenary vessels, eventually ending up on the Caliber.

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