Bio

Twelve years ago, things were very different.

A childhood I can’t remember ended at fourteen. I left – maybe fled – my Martian home and sadistic guardian, for the asteroids. I heard that’s where brave pirate-scoundrels would make their own way, free from the vile claws of authority.

There was a small luxury craft the basted used for his outings with other famous people. He would fuck them in the back. The lift-off was rocky; I had only watched the pilot do it a couple times. Behind me, the house crumbled to ash, as the fire slowly sucked into the vacuum. I hope he was in it, but I couldn’t be sure; I had to be hasty.

Just past Deimos, I threw up from the smell of the back room. I don’t know if I was imagining it, or if it really did smell like his sex.

As the yacht slowed to a cruise, I charged to the back and tore the room apart, shoveled the debris into the jettison, and with a cathartic press of the “eject” button, left my old life behind me.

I managed to live off the supplies in the yacht for a couple years, within the asteroid belt. But after avoiding all forms of life, the ship had sustained some serious damage, as my piloting skills weren’t ace. So seeing as my options were either to throw myself to the law, the pirates, or the void, I considered the rogue-traders my best option.

I found a small port on the edge of humanity. It hinged on the puny rock that hung in space, no bigger than my old house. By this time, I was about 5’ 10" and looked my early twenties. After dressing in the vacc suit I had practiced in, I unboarded and strolled into the station. It was filled with exotic items, and stranger people. This was my first foray into experiencing real humanity.

After having a seat and using some scavenged credits to pay for a stiff drink, I asked about selling the yacht. I got ten thousand credits for it, which I found out a couple years later, was robbery.

After throwing up from the drink, I took a shuttle to the next big city.

Umlaut was a hive of scum and villainy, but I didn’t mind. I spent a year or so getting my bearings, and eventually landed a job as an exotic dancer. Since no one could seem to identify my gender, I was a “specialist” performer, dancing on the off nights.

I started getting “friends in the right places” and moved my way up the hierarchy of the Space-Bulls, the largest crime faction in the Belt, as they came to appreciate my more “volatile” abilities. Using their enemies’ lust to get myself closer to their throats, I dispensed the Bull’s form of law one at a time. At the end of eight long years, I found myself alongside the Khan of the Space-Bull clan, Al’Shaddur himself.

Since my ability to discern people’s motives, and ease of killing, he kept me at his side. This position was eventually concreted by a special assignment by the Khan that took me and some drifter-turn-pirate, Lo-Ren, from Mars to Jupiter. We staged an abduction and through the gimp-pilot’s maneuvering and my cloak and dagger, we make our diplomat captive drop the charges against Al’Shaddur. Good payout from that one.

Later, Morey, a ruthless bigot, and minion of Al’Shaddur was especially cruel to this one ex-marine, Armand Broeker, who turned out to kill the maggot. I congratulated Armand after his deed (in secret of course). He needed to flee the Khan’s grasp, and I assisted his escape. He stunk of military, but I might need some brawn one day.

Leaving the Khan on good terms in a small space-boat he gifted me I headed sun-bound.

ALLIES -
Al’Shaddar, ‘Khan’ of the Space Bulls

Three sets of wardrobe:

• Space-travel gear
• Civilian garb
• Infiltration

- The Assailant -

Very Heavy Autopistol (14mm)
Damage: 4d6-1, 4d6-5 (with silencer)
To Hit: +4 DM, (HUD 2, Computer 1, X-ray 1)
Ammo cost: 20cr/bullet ( 300cr/15, 140cr/7)
1680cr/14 HE

- Barrow blade -

Stun dagger
Damage: 1d6+2 + 2d6 (stun), 2d6 (stun)
Recoil: 0
Cost: 750
Weight: 0.5kg
To Hit: -3 DM (untrained)