CAST OF CHARACTERS

[atpollard]

Just a place to store the final Characters for quick reference.

[TheMyth]

Valencia Meridian

30yo female ROGUE, UPP: 6A99B9

Skills: Brawling-1, Computer-1, Forgery-1, Gun Combat (handguns)-1, Jack of all Trades-1, Streetwise/Liaison-2, Vehicle (wheeled/ tracked)-1
Blade Combat-0, Bribery-0, Carousing/ Steward-0, Demolition-0, Gun Combat (others)-0, Leader-0, Medical-0, Ship Tactics-0, Vehicle (other)-0

Benefits (3terms): 100,000 + (+1SOC)
-----------------

Starting Equipment:

Ballistic Cloth Leather Jacket (250cr)
3 sets Normal Clothes - SOC9 (360cr)
1 set BizCas Clothes - SOC 9 (240cr)
Filter Mask x2 (20cr)
5 cartridges (15cr)

Hand Computer (1000cr)
Common Wristwatch (100cr)
Binoculars (75cr)
Light Sensitive Goggles (500cr)
Cold Light Lantern (20cr)
Voice Recorder & 5 tapes (105cr)
Text Recorder & 5 tapes (1215cr)
Lockpick kit (15cr)
Hand Calculator (10cr)
Handcuffs (25cr)
*Cosmetics & toiletries (15cr)
-------------------------------
*Body Pistol & 2 clips (540cr)

Valencia Meridian was born into a relatively well-off family In Brulantfort on Beau. She excelled at school, immersing herself into the best education her parents could afford, even bolstering it with self-directed study.

But, when she turned 18, Val fell in with a bad crowd (Term #1), choosing a life of crime in Ville d'Espoir in lieu of university (Streetwise-1). She excelled at creating fake Ident-cards and key fobs (Forgery-1) for her new friends' more larcenous pursuits. During this time, she became close friends with notorious party girl Sophie Daniels, the heir apparent of a massive fortune that she wanted nothing to do with.

In time (Term #2), Val became indispensible to the group of thrill-thieves, brokering deals and settling disputes (Liaison-1) while also learning to hack simple computer systems (Computer-1). As her pack of reprobate noblebrats began to coalesce into a legit gang, Sophie was extracted from the trouble swirling around thanks, in part, to Val's encouragement. On the contrary, Val found herself drawn further into the group's troubles.

Eventually (Term #3), the group coalesced around a new leader from an established gang called "The Boys." Val was encouraged to advance her capabilities as a troubleshooter (Jack of all Trades-1). Under the new leadership, the gang came under attack from several rivals, necessitating the thieves to learn to defend themselves (Gun Combat-1). After several years of violence, the leader of Val's gang ended up dead. To save herself (Muster Out), Val packed up and fled Ville d'Espoir, getting as far from her past life as possible.

Shamed by her daughter's larcenous activities, Val's social-climbing bureaucrat mother has helped clean up some of Val's mess. She has also encouraged Val to re-connect with Dwight James Dawson, a cousin who has managed to at least start to overcome the Dawson Scandal with his years of honourable service in the Merchants.

Portrait:

[shaidar]

Dwight James "DJ" Dawson

30yo male MERCHANT (3rd officer), UPP: 78C964

Skills:
Blade-0, Bribery-0, Electronics-2, Jack-Of-All-Trades-0, Gun Combat (Pistols)-1, Gunnery-0, Mechanical-0, Medical-1, Navigation-1, Steward-0, Streetwise-0, Vacc Suit-1, Vehicle (Grav/Air)-1, Vehicle (Water)-0, Vehicle (Wheeled/Tracked)-1

PERSONAL RECOIL RATING: (8+8+12)/3=27/3=9

Benefits (3 terms): 10,000cr, +1 INT, +1 EDU, snub service pistol.

CASH: 4049

Starting Equipment:
Everyday clothes (labourer) x3 (60cr)
Filtermask x2 (10cr)
mask cartridge x8 (24cr)
wrist watch (25cr)
Short range communicator (TL8) (basic, 38cr)
Ballstic armour cloth jacket (250cr)
Medical Kit (field-grade, 500cr)
Professional Electronics toolkit (field-grade, 1000cr)
Ammo, 20rd mag x2 (80cr, stored at spaceport)
sunscreen (10cr)

18mm Pump Shotgun [Cr 150, 4.0 kg, 4D6], 50 rnd ammo.
Waterproof Cold Weather Clothing [2 kg, TL 10]

'LOCAL' Weapons:

9mm Bolt-Action Rifle [Cr 1000, 5.0 kg, 3D6+1], 50 rnds ammo
9mm Magnum Revolver [Cr 300, 1.2 kg, 3D6+1, 50 rnds ammo
12mm Bolt-Action Rifle [Cr 2000, 6.0 kg, 4D6], 50 rnds ammo
12mm Bolt-Action Rifle with a folding stock and Telescopic Sights (+4 at Long Range) [Cr 2300, 7.3 kg, 4D6], 50 rnds ammo

20 HEAP rounds for snub pistol.
50 HE rounds for 9mm revolver
50 HE rounds for 18mm shotgun

Dwight was born in Montsoleil on BEAU, the oldest child of a low-income family. Desperate to find some kind of future away from his families reputation and to scratch an itch to go places and be someone, he joined a smaller, local, merchant firm.

Term One: He surprised even himself when he passed the exam and got a commission. The first term was spent mostly planetside learning the ropes, particularly cargo handling and security. [ vehicle (grav) -1, Gun Cbt (pistol) -1 ]
Term Two: Wanting to see more of the ships, he transferred to the maintenance and repairs department. His time was equally split between planetside and space. He was also a security reserve when on ship. He revelled in the new challenges and did well, this was noticed and he was promoted to 3rd officer. [ Electronics - 2, Vacc Suit -1 (bonus)]
Term Three: Deciding that he wanted even more time on ships, and riding on his promotion, he realised that the company was desperate for Medics and Navigators, so he managed to arrange some cross-training. The majority of this term was spent on ships, and he was happy that his career was finally heading where he wanted it to. Then the company announced it was being bought out by a larger competitor and there would be cuts, his contract was not renewed. [Medical -1, Navigation -1]

DJ feels a little bitter about loosing his job, he feels it was due to where he is from and who he is rather than his potential. He knows the fellow merchant spacer Joe Black from his days in the service. He is a cousin of Valencia Meridian:

The Dawsons and Meridians were once both wealthy respected families related by intermarriage ties, until a Dawson (your Grandfather) was involved in a giant Ponzi Scheme that blew up and made the Dawson name "infamous" in the Business World (you are the Madoffs of BEAU). It is the association with the "Dawson Scandal" that makes the respectable members of the Meridians react so violently at any scandal from Valencia. The Dawson reputation is part of Dwight's motivation for going into Merchant ... it is in his blood. The shared experience of living under the "Dawson Scandal" cloud [DJ by birth and Valencia by family accusation of following the same path] provides a commonality to bind the two cousins together.

Picture:

DJ_small_cr1.jpg (997.87 KiB) Viewed 530 times

[Eris]

Name:	Joe Black		Age:	42	UPP:	8A4997
Career:	Mechants		Terms:	6	Str:	8
Rank:	2nd Officer				Dex:	10
					End:	4
Skills:	[12]				Int:	9
Admin	1	Blade	0		Edu:	9
Auto Pistol	2	Bribery	0		Soc:	7
Shotgun	2	Grav Vech	1
JoAT	2	Steward	0		Assets:	44,000 CR
Mechanical	1	Electronics	0		4,000 CR Yearly Pension
Navigation	1	Gunnery	0		Blade
Pilot	1	Medical	0		Auto Pistol
Streetwise	1	Computer	0		Shotgun
Vacc Suit	2	Engineering	0		High Passage

* converted from spreadsheet to table with https://theenemy.dk/table/

JoeBlack.png (90.41 KiB) Viewed 589 times

Background:
Joe is from a nameless chunk of rock ... literally. "World 2517" is an airless ball of rock half the size of Earth's moon, scorched by its binary stars [D-100758-9]. If one had access to a Military Ship, it is only two jumps away at J3, however, following the J2 route that Merchant Ships are restricted to, you are 12 jumps from home.

Joe is just your average Spacer. He could have stayed home and been a success, but he always had a wanderlust, he wanted to see what was over there, out there! The Stars are the ultimate "out there", so when he turned 18, he enlisted with the Merchant Service and he's never looked back...only forward and out there!

Joe is a friendly, cheerful sort of fellow, but he does hold a grudge, so don't get on his bad side. He is average sized, more dexterous than most, and familiar with just about anything that needs doing aboard a ship. Over the years, his jobs always focused on working the Bridge rather than other things, but no Spacer worth his salt doesn't help out everywhere it's needed, and Joe was always smart enough to learn a bit about everything as he went.

Working on the frontiers where Piracy is a problem and unscrupulous traders are almost the rule, he had to become more expert than most with fighting. He quickly learned it's never a good idea to bring a blade to a gun fight, so Joe became very good with his auto pistol. After his leg wound in a fight with pirates off Inth Joe took up the shotgun to give him a little more range. He's pretty good with that, too, however he'd rather talk his way out of a fight if he can. He's learned that wounds hurt and they keep hurting for a long, long, time!

Joe's Strength and Endurance started dropping as he passed through his 30's. He worked hard to keep his strength up, but endurance proved hard. Breathing an exotic atmosphere through a faulty air mask on your 3rd term will do wonders in lowering your lung capacity! There was only so much physical training (or the Doctors) could do and Joe went from about Average to well below. His breathing is better than it was at one point, but if he's tired Joe will still start to limp...that leg wound never completely healed. "Damn Pirates! They should all be breathing vacuum!"

Joe would have liked to make it to First Officer, and he dreamed of being a Captain of his own Starship, but alas that was never to be. Not in the Merchant Service anyway. The Merchant Service, like all bureaucracies, seems to thrive on "who you know" not "what you know" as you go higher and Joe's background was too humble to know anybody who could get him higher in the ranks. He got to 2nd Officer and got stuck with less qualified and less capable people passing him by. It became a matter of him doing the work and them reaping the rewards. It was hard not to get bitter, but rather than taking that road Joe decided to take another.

So, at 42, he left the Merchant Service and struck out on his own. He's got some credits saved up, he's got a pension, he's even got a High Passage he can use to get to somewhere if he needs to...and he's got a lifetime of experience to draw on. He's ready for an adventure!

"Hey Universe! Here comes Joe!" he thinks to himself with a smile, "Maybe I'll have better luck with an independent ship. A bunch of free thinkers. A Free Trader perhaps?"

Joe Black eased onto a stool at the bar and looked around. Beau isn't a big place, should be folks he's run into around.

Anybody here he recognizes?

Barman comes over, Joe nods to him and lays a coin down on the bar and says with a smile and a wink, "No booze today for me, my friend. Just caff, black and strong. Need to stay sharp."

[Hvalreki]

Name: Herbie Brown

Seen here at "Left Shoulder Arms" when the command was "Right Shoulder Arms"



UPP 93C48A
Age 22
Army Enlisted, 1 Term
Cr: 20,000

Medical - 1
Rifle - 1
Tracked Vehicle - 1 (worked a farm combine on Beau as a kid)
Streetwise - 1 (grew up in the Colony) - Connection to Jim

Zero Level Skills
Gambling 0
Brawling 0
Air Raft 0
Forward Observer 0
Bayonet 0
Mechanical 0
Electronic 0
Tactics 0
Computer 0
Leader 0
Admin 0

Herbie and his best friend Slicker were street peddlers on Beau. After a run in with the law, Herbie ducked into a recruiting station to escape and accidentally joined the Army where he was trained as a medic. He barely survived his enlistment but his just won't quit attitude got him through.

[
Since Herbie Brown is a one-term character ... let's flesh out his background with some "chrome" from more advanced rules:

From LBB4: Mercenary:

Drafted into the Army and assigned to the Infantry Arm where he completed Basic Training and Advanced Training with a [MOS] of Rifleman, ending year 1 at rank [E1] Private. For the second year, he was assigned to assist the Sergeant and the unit saw combat in an extended series of Raiding missions where he was awarded the [MCUF] decoration, a [Combat Service Ribbon] and promoted to [E2] Lance Corporal. For the third year, he drew a Special Assignment and was cross trained with the Support Arm and earned certification in [MOS] Medic [this would have permitted the option to transfer from the Infantry Arm to the Support Arm upon reenlistment]. Year four saw a return to his old unit as a Rifleman/Medic and more combat Raids, including one in which he was wounded. He was awarded another [MCUF] decoration, a second [Combat Service Ribbon], and a [Purple Heart]. He believes that the time spent recovering from the injury at the end of his term, cost him his Corporal [E3] stripe and reenlistment.

Abbreviations:
[MOS] = Military Occupation Specialty
[MCUF] = Meritorious Conduct Under Fire (medal for bravery)

STARTING THE GAME:
Herbie Brown walks the streets, freshly discharged, in his Dress Greens with his Ribbons [MCUF x2, Purple Heart, Combat Service x2, Rifleman MOS, Medic MOS] all on display and his Lance Corporal Stripes on his sleeves. A small pack slung over his shoulder contains [Cr 500] personal items and he has Cr 1500 cash from the Army to readjust to civilian life. Tucked safely away in a pocket was a Credit Card preloaded with Cr 4500 from his mother that was only valid for 30 days. You need basic supplies beyond toiletries, civilian clothes and a place to sleep tonight. You had Cr 20,000 that you had saved up in the bank.

"What? Herbie a Light Corporal? Listen bub, you got it all wrong. See, I know a guy who knows a guy back at Battalion Admin. He's seen Herbie's service jacket, one page, swear on my mutha!

It says "record expunged for the good of the service." So he get's curious like, see? And does some digging. You know, asks around. Turns out Herbie is famous! No really, he served his entire term in Basic Training! As god is my witness he says!

Basic is like, what 12 weeks tops right? Herbie was recycled 15 times! For real! Fell off the rappel tower, medical. Broken arm in close order drill, medical. Walked off a cliff in the land nav course, medical. Bitten over 90% of his body by stinging insects, medical! You get the picture.

He spent so much time at Battalion med they gave him a medics rating, and him still a buck private! His Drill Sergeant kept trying to make him quit and he wouldn't do it, just kept coming back, and back and back!

Finally, on the sixteenth training cycle he passes his rifle quals after six days, days(!) of shooting. He was so excited after finally graduating that he decided to reenlist! Well, the Colonel got wind of that, cut him a check for his back pay and bought him a high passage back to Beau!"

[Leitz]

In a perfect universe, Captain James Daniels would return home to Turquoise for a short stay at his private estate. He'd go to the family home after a day or two, then he and Father would embrace; all those angry words would be forgiven after sincere apologies. Days would be filled with sail boating, casual inspection of one or two of the conglomerates Father owned, and lounging on the only private beach on the waterworld. Evenings would be cocktail parties, meeting wonderful women who had no clue about Navy life but loved a man in uniform, and the occasional night time scuba dive.

He would then return to the fleet, and find to a pleasant non-surprise that he was given command of a larger, if a bit older, battleship. He had studied everything about the Navy; both his own and that of the Shogunate. Tactics, culture, logistics, even religion. Navies like heroes who win when the odds are a dozen to one. Reenlistment was guaranteed when one of their youngest Captains had every Naval combat medal made.

The universe wasn't perfect, though.

- - -

Jim watched the shiny grav car lift up and drift off. The driver, an early twenties female. Long black hair, business slacks, jewelry. Local identification plates, brown body sports model, silver trim, quiet running.

He winced as his eyes went back to the thin dog now tied to the fence. Jim didn't know one breed from another. Well, he didn't know dog breeds. He was pretty good at classifying young professionals who got a pet as a conversation piece and then abandoned it when the reality of a relationship came due.

The dog pulled at the leash tied to the fence, trying to loyally return to it's master. It whined a little, but it didn't bark. Maybe down deep it understood the rejection, but still had a little hope. Just a little, though.

Jim sighed. He still had half a sandwich in one jacket pocket. Other dogs in the park had long been feral, they barked at each other and fought for anything he might throw. Size and hatred mattered in the dog world. Not so different from humans, really. Many humans, anyway. The Guild ship that brought him home had a good Chief Engineer. She cut Jim in for a small percentage since he spent the entire jump recalibrating sensors all over the old bulk hauler. A quarter crew percentage wasn't much for a run like that, but it was all he had in hand. In a few days he'd go to the bank and see where his funds stood. He hadn't made investing a priority, but he should have a little bit. When you are married to your job, and your job provides food, berthing, and nothing else for thousands of kilometers, it's easy not to spend money.

Going to the bank would mean Father would know he was back. That would be an issue that he wasn't sure how to solve yet. Within a day, maybe two if the bank was as tight-lipped as they claimed, the rest of the planet would know that the brat who lost his ship and got kicked out of the Navy for disobeying orders was bumming around.

The biggest dog in the park sauntered up to Jim and growled a demand for the food it could smell. That just pissed Jim off. He hadn't endured years of prepschool and space battles to let some mangy mutt try to boss him around. He bared his teeth to the bully dog and slowly moved forward. His mind focused on the eagerness he used to feel, the readiness for battle. His body responded, and sent the dog scents that an apex predator was approaching. It paused, and then left, tail tucked between its legs.

Jim forced himself to relax and kept on walking. He crossed the road, and slowly walked down the fence. The dog looked at him, shivered, and tried to back away. "Hey, looks like we're both a bit down on our luck, aren't we? Want to hang out for a little bit? What's it like around here?"

Jim slowly sat, not too close, and talked softly. After a few minutes he pulled out the sandwich and took a bite for himself. His stomach did its own growling, and the dog sat down. He pulled out a small piece of meat, put it in his mouth to clean off the seasonings, and then lightly tossed it to the dog.

It took a while, but the two castaways had a decent supper.

James Michael Daniels [687AEE] Human Male (Navy, 4 terms)
Admin-1, Brawling-1, Engineering-1, FwdObs/Recon-1, GunCbt(Pistol)-1, Gunnery-1, Navigation-1, Pilot-1, VaccSuit-1, Vehicle(WaterCraft)-1
Blade-0, Computer-0, Electronic-0, GunCbt(Rifle)-0, GunCbt(Shotgun)-0, JoT-0, Mechanical-0, Medical-0

Sophie the Dog, Social Secretary

Heavy coat
Engineer's coveralls
Calf height Navy officer boots (mostly covered by the coveralls)
Toiletries
Refurb mask and filter.

A year ago today...

James couldn't breathe. His hands shook. He read the short message from NavInt once more, closed his eyes, and began to cry.

For several minutes the Captain's cabin was silent, save for the occasional sniffle and randomly muttered "those idiots". His heavily armed cruiser, the Okanagan, was in orbit at a small planet near the Shogunate, just Jump 1 away. His orders were simple, patrol. Stop pirates, and by sitting there with a ship armed better than ones twice its size, be a show of force in case a Shogunate captain wanted to earn herself honor by crossing over and picking on merchants.

Sophie danced through James' thoughts. Beautiful, always smiling, driven to take her family business to new heights. Everything a man wanted in a baby sister. She was a Second Officer on one the merchant ships that had just jumped across the border; they had a four hundred million credit venture capital expedition for Shogunate planets. High end computer parts for local factories, dTons of the specific gems the Shogunate males loved to adorn their ceremonial armor with, and enough credits to bribe the garrison commander to not make too many cargo inspections. It was a common, if foolish, run. Several large ships, mild risk, high profits. James had even kept Sophie updated on what cargoes the Shogunate desired most.

Then some merchant with more VC funding than brains decided to rent a pair of old patrol cruisers and to fit the entire little fleet with a few extra weapons bays. He styled himself an admiral, even had a nice white uniform with lots of gold braid. James had attended last night's going away soiree, it was even styled similar to one of the many Admiral's Balls the real Navy held. He had flirted with a few of the lovelier lady officers and did the cigar and brandy huddle with several of the Merchant officers. They all knew James, most were regulars on this route and inter-service rivalries meant crews were always getting into trouble. James had warned them about appearing military, but they just shrugged. Even the Dawson family connections were in no position to sway things. VC funding was driving more decisions than normal, and "the Admiral" was playing up to it.

James closed his eyes and murmured a fervent, if rare, prayer. Sophie's fleet had jumped three hours ago, NavInt's message had just come in. A Shogunate battle cruiser and it's supply fleet were doing a shakedown cruise just across the border. James knew the Admiral Aboard, seventh in line to the throne, no real combat experience. Likely given the brand new ship and told to go away for a couple of years. Likely to jump at the chance to increase her standing in the family. Seventh with nice, but capturing an entire armed enemy fleet would bump her up at least to fifth, maybe even fourth. Shogunate politics were deadly.

James was ordered to maintain station, and not engage even if they crossed the border. For a moment he looked up at the captain's insignia on his mess dress. It still had the cigar aroma from last night, and four lovely possibility comm cards in one pocket.

Two hundred and fifteen spacers would lose their lives because Venture Capitalists didn't get close to the risks. James' own crew would follow him if he told them the truth. They had fought together and drank together. He had pulled some of them out of jail with his own hands, gotten them back on deck, and not ruined their careers with formal charges. The crew took care of anyone embarrassing the ship. Their careers would be ruined if he was honest with them.

James took a deep breath and touched his comm. "XO, sound Immediate Recall, this is not a drill. I have orders from NavInt."

He quickly changed into duty uniform and opened the hatch. The Marine standing guard, Gunny always had one there when they were not underway, came to attention as the recall alarm sounded. "Wilson, tell Gunny he has four hours and to keep it quiet. The order is 'Load for Bear', do you copy?"

PFC Wilson's eyes went wide. Load for Bear meant "get anything and everything to inflict damage, and I won't ask where it came from or what it cost." He nodded, said "Copy, Sir. Load for Bear. Quiet", and then ran to the Marine section.

- - -

The battle had been quick and bloody. James' ship appeared out of jump right where NavInt said the Shogunate ships would be staging. Tubes were loaded green and turrets were hot, and the battle cruiser had no time to respond as her aft section took hit after hit. The Marines launched in their assault carriers as James directed attacks on any ship attacking one of the Merchants.

But the enemy still had teeth, and focused her anger on the intruder. Even with seventy percent of her Engineering section exposed to space, her weapons were powered and she could destroy the merchants at her will, once the Okanagan was dealt with.

- - -

James sat in the Okanagan captain's chair one last time. Sparks came from several consoles, muted damage alarms still flashed red over ninety-three percent of the ship. There were no missiles left to fire. Two turrets had catastrophic overload failures, the rest had no power. What little energy produced was driven to maneuver. The bridge was quiet. Having a two centimeter wide hole punched through the hull can do that, since any atmo that hadn't been drained quickly left of its own accord. The entire crew, save him, were safely aboard the few merchant ships left. Even the Marines had gone, kicking and screaming. Gunny had objected the loudest, and his cursing was legendary. His Marines had taken five patrol cruisers out of twelve enemy ships total, and rendered them inoperative for a week. The Shogunate would have to send in spare parts for three of them.

Four huge cargo haulers and two small armed yachts held station, awaiting orders.

James sighed, and stood. The helm controls will worked, and the Shogunate battle cruiser was dead ahead. The Imperial personage aboard refused to concede. James knew fleets like this never sent just one of the family, and he had contacted the tenth in succession privately. Being assigned this sector for years had given him a reason to study everything possible about the enemy, he had compiled dossiers on the twenty five closest to the throne. James knew how to convey respect to an honorable opponent, and the tenth in line knew when to listen to the wise counsel of a proven warrior. Even an enemy speaks wisely sometimes; moving up in position was worth ignoring a fleeing merchant fleet.

"One last time, Admiral Ittomi, surrender your fleet. You have fought honorably and your Clan will be proud. But it is now time for peace." James touched the helm controls, he knew what the answer would be.

Admiral Ittomi growled a denial and then cut off comms. James shook his head sadly, he hated killing fellow spacers for stupid people. Even the enemy deserved better. Course was locked in, command overrides given, anti-collision protocols deactivated. James overrode safety power margins and launched his ship straight for the battle cruiser. Hopefully he could make it to an escape pod in time.

[Thumper]

Mick Dundee Hogan
AC9964
Age: 34
Homeworld: Cobalt (Lived on Beau his adult life- In Bordeaux...well South of Brulantfort)
Career: Hunter (Professional Hunter/Outdoorsman/Sailer/Fisherman)

Credits: 8,348

3- Admin, Gun Cbt (Longarm), Survival
1- Blade Cbt (Single Handed), Gun Cbt (Sidearm), Watercraft, Steward/Carouse
0- Computers, Electronics, Vehicles, Mechanic, Engineering/Gravitics

Recoil Rating: 10.33

CAREER

GM Bribe: Vehicle (Watercraft) -1 (Raised on Cobalt), Steward-1 (From Jim’s concierge)
Auto Skill: Survival-1
Term 1: Survived & Re-enlisted
Blade Cbt-1 / Gun Cbt (Rifle-1)

Term 2: Survived & Re-enlisted
Admin-1 (Managed Guiding and Adventure Business) / Survival-2

Term 3: Survived & Re-enlisted
Gun Cbt (One-hand)-1 / Admin-2

Term 4: Survived & Re-enlisted
Admin-3 / Survival-3

Mustering:
Weapon (Stylized Large Hunting Rifle w/electronic scope)
Weapon: Gun Cbt (Rifle-2)
Weapon: Gun Cbt (Rifle-3)
10,000cr

GEAR

*Trophy Rifle (Mustering) w electronic sites: 11mm Bolt Action Rifle [Cr 300, 4.0 kg, 1000 mm LOA] 5D6 damage (SAP ignores 2 pts armor). Range as Rifle. 3 round internal magazine.
Bonus Dex 8 +1, Penalty Dex 6 -2, Very Long Range, Sight= +4 Long & Very Long

*Sawn-off over-under shotgun on thigh holster: 4d6, Range: Close-Medium (+4 Close 2/I 3m), 2-shots, 150cr, Ammo 25, 150cr

*Bowie Knife (Blade?): 2d6, .3kg Str 9 Bonus +2, Str 5 Penalty -2, Weakened -2 25cr

* 12mm Bolt-Action Rifle [Cr 2300, 7.3 kg, 4D6] (Arctic Advanced Composites)
DS rounds x 100, HE Rds x 100, bullets x100

* 21mm Triple-Barrel Shotgun: (6.6 kilograms; Cr 790; TL 7; Length 1060 mm; Recoil 11.4): A 3-barrel (triangle) break-open shotgun that fires 59 gram loads from a 60 cm barrel at 440 meters per second. Each barrel is individually loaded.
#1 shot: 22 x 1D6; Short range of 14 meters.
00 shot: 16 x 1D6+1; Short range of 16 meters.
000 shot: 13 x 1D6+1; Short range of 18 meters.
slug/DS: 5D6; Short range of 63 meters.
HE/HEAP slug: 13D6-1; Short range of 63 meters.

* 12mm Revolver (Advanced Composite) 4d6 Dex 9+ +1 / 5- -2 [Cr 600, 2.0 kg]
DS rounds x 100, HE Rds x 100, bullets x100

* 18mm Pump Shotgun 4d6 Standard Load 5+1 shells (4kilograms; Cr 150; TL 7; Length 1010 mm)
#1 shot x 100, HE x 100

* 15mm Double-Barrel Howdah: (1.5 kilograms; Cr 120; TL 7; Length 430 mm; Recoil 9.7): A 2-barrel (s/s or o/u) break-open smoothbore pistol that fires 22 gram loads from a 30 cm barrel at 400 meters per second. Each barrel is individually loaded.
#1 shot: 8 x 1D6; Short range of 3 meters.
00 shot: 6 x 1D6; Short range of 3 meters.
000 shot: 4 x 1D6+1; Short range of 4 meters.
slug/DS: 3D6-1; Short range of 8 meters.
HE/HEAP slug: 8D6-1; Short range of 8 meters.
(HE rds x 100, DS rds x 100, #1 shot x 100)

[X-2 Shotguns with Saint Oyland Ammo]
18mm Pump Shotgun: (4 kilograms; Cr 150; TL 7; Length 1029 mm; Recoil 10.2): A pump-action shotgun that fires 37 gram loads from a 45 cm barrel at 420 meters per second. A tubular magazine holds 5 rounds (+1 in chamber).
#1 shot: 14 x 1D6; Short range of 12 meters.
00 shot: 10 x 1D6; Short range of 14 meters.
000 shot: 8 x 1D6+1; Short range of 15 meters.
slug/DS: 4D6-1; Short range of 44 meters.
HE/HEAP slug: 10D6; Short range of 44 meters.
(HE rds x 100, DS rds x 100, 000 buck shot x 100)

*Bayonet: 3d6, Str Bonus 9 +2, penalty 5 -2, weakened -2

*Knife: bone and composite. Decorated with engravings from “The People”

Reptile Skin Mesh Jacket: 150cr

Safari Vest w/detachable sleeves (Cloth Armor): 250cr

Motorcycle (Dirtbike) Saddlebags/Cargo case (1,000cr= functional at 500cr)
Light Intensifier Goggles (500cr)
Watch (100cr)
Combo Filter/Mask & 3 Filters (180cr)
Nostril Filter x3
Med Range Comm (TL10)- .4Kg, 50km range, 250cr
Electric Torch- 6hr (10cr)
Cold Light Lantern- 3 days (20cr)
Binocs (75cr)
Hammock

Adventure Backpack (TL 11): (Cr 3000; 12 kg) includes Multi-Spectrum Binoculars, Grapnel Gun, Inertial Locator, Piton Gun, and Atmospheric Water Distillation System.

Body Pressure Suit (TL 9): [2 kg; Cr 14,000] A skin tight suit, gloves, boot, and soft helmet that protects against temperatures from +50 C to -50 C with the equivalent of JACK armor. May be worn beneath clothing.

Waterproof Cold Weather Clothing [Cr 800, 2 kg, TL 10]

PHOTO

IMG_0907.jpeg (291.52 KiB) Viewed 363 times

DESCRIPTION

Tall, tanned, blonde, and very fit. He has a crescent shaped scar on his left cheek and 4 what look like puckered cat scratches across his right chest starting on the and running low and right. A nearly burn scar is on his left shoulder.

He dresses in jeans or sports pants/trousers, and synthetic outdoor shirts with either a leather (Mesh Armor) shooting vest or a reptile skin (Mesh Armor) vest. It’s not uncommon to see him with only his vest covering his torso. A leather band is worn above his left elbow.

His idea of dressing up is clean jeans and a freshly pressed button down shirt.

He does carry comfortable nautical clothing for aboard a boat.