Welcoming to Different Skies, an original science-fiction roleplay. Please mind the air locks and try not to get stuck in a vacuum.



"Humanity can survive, my friends. But it will take effort and it will take sacrifice. But first, we must rebuild the wheel to study these assailants from beyond. Any piece, any fragment of the Deus Pinnae that rears its head will be ours. Yamata 16 can no longer afford to linger in the shadows. If we must, we will take all of Bastion space in our grasps and ravage it until every metal sliver of the Pinnae is revealed... By any means necessary."

Jonathan Langdon.

Vestiges of Our Kind




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AGE: 25
Occupation: Freelancer
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Last Seen: Mar 18 2016, 08:05 PM
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Kyle Farnes


My Content
Mar 6 2016, 08:48 PM
Time of Day: Mid Afternoon
Date: 03.06.2515

Once again, here he was, with a broken ship and a time budget. He needed to get moving, but first, there was the issue of fixing his vessel. It wasn’t like he could just take another ship, because he didn’t trust most people as far as he could throw them. Shaking his head, he approached the terminal and started to run through the market display.

No, no, no… wait a second.

He found the parts he needed? But that was a bit cheap, whatever. He could get out there and if push came to shove, he could show someone how to really shove. The mercenary shrugged and looked back to his ship. Touching his wrist, he activated the comms. “Be right back JEM. Try to not get stolen, while I’m away, alright?” The turned off the outbound comms and just waited for the response.

He knew what it was going to be, and as he walked away, was swinging his arms and mouthing the words ‘I am a ship, I can not promise anything.’ For an AI, JEM was really slacking on the learning human idiosyncrasies. Whatever, she kept the ship from getting attacked and moved it out of danger when he was too busy shouting at something that was breaking.

One of the most advanced starships he could buy, and it is always breaking. Someday, he’d get the cloaking systems back online.

Right, where did it say the parts were? The Dregs? Fine.
Mar 6 2016, 07:53 AM
_searching Z:\ for query...
    _uploading requested file...
    _opening heuristic personnel dossier:
    _dossier template: DEFAULT
    _script execution time .006 seconds


Z:\ P L A Y E R - I N F O R M A T I O N.ooc

    _requesting RL:\ for established query...
_player alias: Corey
_other characters:None
_modes of contact: PM
Z:\ C H A R A C T E R - I N F O R M A T I O N.ic

    _analyzing system settings...
      _generating personnel dossier: DEFAULT
      _rendering holographic display:


_affiliation: Freelance

_full name: Kyle Farnes
_nicknames/alias: N/A
_date of birth: 11.17.2490
_age: 25
_home planet: Spaceborn
_current residence: Starship
_relatives: None
_orientation: Hetereo
_marital status: Single

_gender: Male
_height: 5’11
_weight: 155lbs
_hair color: Brown
_eye color: Green
_identifiable marks: Aside from the bumps in his forehead and left temple, where his implants are located, Kyle’s body is pockmarked with scars, burns, and puncture wounds from a variety of adversaries. He has a tattoo on his right shoulder, a logo of a shipping company that no longer exists. His implants are a bit more... lazily placed than someone who went on the normal market to have them. While most people would have a straight line, or squared off appearance, even the ones that run down Kyle's arms are a bit haphazard in appearance. He is known to prefer jackets and longer sleeves to keep the attention off of the less-than-neat appearance.

_occupation: Freelancer

Z:\ P S Y C H O L O G Y.ic

    _psychological evaluation loading... COMPLETED.
_personality: Kyle is what you would call focused. Not really one for small talk, and not trusting of many people. Not one to make friends easily, unless you owe him money, or are someone who can give him a job, or are a mark he has been hired to find, you really don’t exist to him. He does genuinely try to help people regardless of what others will say. While someone might see a side of Kyle that is purely work, there are those strangers, and people who can't help themselves. On top of that, he is 90 percent sure he'll help someone lost in space, but if they expect to trust their wallet to him? Well, that is just too tempting of a steal to make.
Z:\ P O W E R - I N F O R M A T I O N.ic

    _genetic sequencing algorithm initiated... COMPLETED.
_archetype: Novae

_powers: As part of the Novae, Kyle has been implanted with the necessary hardware to manipulate his bioelectricity. As a result he is skilled with making psionic barriers around himself, as well as, with the necessary motivation (typically anger), generate pulses of energy at an adversary. With practice, he’ll be able to have the finesse to be able to move items using his implants.

_weaknesses: Kyle is a physically weak person. Built like a runner, he is fast, but when you get him in a fight? He’s not going to fare so well. Having been born to a couple who were struggling for money, Kyle does not have a strong formal education. This results in his knowledge base being mostly experience based, what he has learned from his parents and mentors along the way.

Z:\ H I S T O R Y.ic

    _individual background loading... COMPLETED.
Kyle was born to a down on their luck couple and most say that the only reason he survived to birth was because of the medical advances of the day. Early life for Kyle was pretty simple, living aboard a starship and taking the odd jobs with his father and mother, all the while moving goods from point A to B. He never asked, but the cargo was most of the time not fully legal, and was any number of illicit goods, depending where they were traveling. Some of his earliest memories are sitting in a dark room off the cargo hold with his mother. The ship was always tumbling.

Spending a lot of time on the ship, Kyle was becoming very familiar with several different manufacturers of starships and parts, all the while sneaking off the ship to follow his parents as they made delivery runs to any number of stations and worlds. He had learned to travel silently, and was very good at listening, and understanding what people wanted. Most, he learned, didn’t give a damn about you, and just wanted a fair price for whatever they were buying. The trick for him, was always know where your ship was, and how to get back.

Nearing puberty, Kyle’s parents had brought him on one last run, and they were telling him it was all going to be fine from here on out. Now, the fact that Kyle’s parents weren’t well off didn’t mean they didn’t want the best for him. Most of the jobs they were taking were lucrative enough, but not always. They were working to provide a better life for him, and around the time he was turning 12, they were able to cash in on their dream, and had taken Kyle to one of the best black market surgeons they could find.

The next few weeks, were a blur. Kyle was on an unknown station, and he had no idea where his parents were. All he knew was that someone kept feeding him and soon, started asking for him to work. Thus began the final clause on the deal his parents made, until he was a legal adult, Kyle was going to be working for the same criminal network they were taking jobs for.

Being young, Kyle didn't ask too many questions about the jobs. He knew what he was doing, he was being slave labor. And for him? He was the youngest, and consequently the smallest for a few years. As a result, when the network needed smaller items moved through crowds, typically drugs, and sensitive data, after all, what kind of police officer would go after a kid? As he grew up, and proved himself to the operation, he was starting to get involved in the more sensitive tasks of the organization: human trafficking. The small drug distribution aspect of the organization, as Kyle was to find out was called 'Lupin', was merely transport, they didn't do any serious manufacturing.

He never learned the fine points of the human trafficking business, all Kyle knew was he was given cargo, which one fateful day, he discovered were actually living people, and had to bring them from point A to point B, and allow the contacts to unload his cargo. Life was pretty much a series of orders for Kyle up until the age of 21.

That was until he was released from their service, and given a ship. He’d apparently paid off his debt. Did he actually trust it? No, he'd heard talk of people being in servitude for a group like this their entire life. Part of his goals in the galaxy now are to find out why he was released, what was he released for?

Z:\ S A M P L E.ic

    _accessing individual's archive footage files...
      _generating script... COMPLETED.
That was the big challenge, now wasn’t it? Kyle shook his head as he looked to his ship. He had patched her together so she would make it back to Bastion, and how did she repay him? By breaking right in the damned hangar. He sighed. Yes, he knew the ship was telling him that he was welcome. “Yeah, I hear you, JEM. You could have broken down way out in the middle of no where, but in case you can’t remember, we have a fuckin’ job to get to. And I can’t do that with stabilizers breaking every warp jump.” He shook his head.

Some transport job this was turning out to be. What he needed was to refuel and rearm and get moving again. Really, those were the least of his worries. JEM, ‘Just Electronics Management’ was the AI behind the ship that he flew. The ship, affectionately called Rum Runner was Kyle’s home and main source of income. She was an older vessel, the hull and spirit of one of those hot rodding transport ships, with the countermeasure systems of an early military ship. Kyle preferred to just have his ship disappear and run, rather than fight, but in the off chance he needed something blown up, there was a turreted missile launcher, just in case.

Running a grease covered hand through his hair, Kyle shook his head again. He needed to get himself moving. Stepping down the ramp of the ship, he nodded to the androids that were helping with upkeep. Yeah, get to work, was what he wanted to say, but in the off chance the AI rose up? He tried to be polite to everyone. And yeah, JEM understood that. But you know who didn’t understand?

The people who fronted him money.

And, as seems to be Kyle’s luck, they were entering the hangar right now.
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