View Full Version : STATS: Finish this character

Kayle Skolaris
30 May 2001, 03:11 PM
This is something new I've been wanting to try for awhile now. I'm going to post a character background and all of YOU get to give him/her/it a set of stats! If the character strikes you as being a starting-level character, make him as such. If he seems more experienced, make him as such. Read the background I provide and give him statistics best suited to what YOU think his story provides for. Here we go!:

There are worlds in the universe that have been at war for as long as they have been inhabited. Taylor Davidson was born on one of these worlds.

Taylor was born on a battlefield nineteen years ago on Telikon VI, a forgotten world in a forgotten corner of the universe. The wars that rage there are local, the world itself relatively useless, the sector of space utterly backwater. No one remembers Telikon VI except its inhabitants and all they know is a life of total, unending war. It was into this environment that Taylor came into the universe. Newborns on Telikon VI have an average life expectancy of two weeks. Anyone who survives longer typically becomes a warrior or a slave to a warrior. Taylor is one of the lucky few who became neither. He had a skill that few on his world possessed. In an environment dedicated to tearing people apart, Taylor was gifted with the ability to sew them back together and make them whole again. Better still, he had an innate ability with machinery and weapons that allowed him to put those back together with nearly the same speed and efficiency.

Taylor was rebuilding men and machinery from the spare parts of both almost from the time he could walk. On Telikon VI, beggars cannot be choosers, and the walking wounded were always in the position of beggar when it came to medical aid. Though obscenely young to be doing battlefield surgery, Taylor excelled at what he did. Of course, on a world like his, excelling meant saving more lives than losing them, even if by only a small percentage. Still, Taylor was gifted. And he cared. He truly enjoyed saving lives and despised taking them. He could take a life, of course. There are no pacifists on Telikon VI. He simply preferred to save them rather than take them.

One day something happened that had not occurred in centuries. A ship from another world visited Telikon VI. The vessel was a crippled mercenary frigate in desperate need of repairs. They had recently been on the losing end of a space battle and had to make a hasty blind jump into hyperspace. When they exited again, the Fates had brought them to Telikon VI. Heavily damaged, with multiple hull breaches and a reactor threatening to go super-critical, the captain of the vessel made the fateful decision to attempt a landing on the world below.

His ship landed less than a quarter mile from Taylor's unit.

More properly, the crippled ship landed less than a quarter mile from what was left of Taylor's unit. At the time the ship landed, Taylor's squad was under murderous fire from an enemy artillery battery and it was all Taylor could do to keep his three remaining comrades breathing. He had lasted sixteen years by this point and was seriously doubting whether he would see seventeen. The crimson and gold jet of flame that plummeted from the sky was like a heaven-sent savior to the young man. He'd heard of starships before, of course. He'd seen historical records of them and was well aware of their existence beyond the sky above. But in his entire life, he'd never seen one or even imagined he'd ever see one.

The crippled warship was taking fire from ground positions as it hurled towards the planet below. Antiquated high-energy plasma artillery raked at the battered frigate for several seconds before the few remaining gunners returned fire with state-of-the-art (and highly illegal) gamma-grav cannons. Gamma radiation focussed and aimed through an energy "lens" of coherent gravity stabbed out invisibly. The artillerists had just enough time to gape in stunned horror as their artillery pieces began literally falling apart before they too fell apart and the entire artillery battery erupted in flame as reactor containment cores were breached. As the explosions died down and the fires began in earnest, the mercenary craft settled down onto the remains of the artillery battery.

A quarter mile away, the last member of Taylor's squad took a final gasping breath and died, drowned in his own blood, a victim of a lung with three punctures too many. The shelling had stopped finally. Something had destroyed the artillery battery over the ridge and since the explosions happened seconds after the plasma cannons opened fire on the starship, Taylor had a good idea of what had silenced the big guns. Gathering what supplies he could from his fallen comrades, Taylor trudged towards the landing site. In any other situation he would have ran in the opposite direction as fast as he possibly could, but he had just watched his entire squad, some of them friends for years, butchered around him. He had seen something not witnessed on his world in over five hundred years with the arrival of the starship. And he had seen that same starship, purposely or not (and he suspected the latter) avenge his fallen friends. If nothing else, he wanted to thank the offworlders in person.

As these thoughts floated through Taylor's wearied mind, the captain of the mercenary frigate had much more immediate and pressing concerns weighing on his. Through a wicked twist of fate, the two elements of his crew that he most desperately needed were also the ones who had not survived the battle. His entire engineering staff were dead, the victim of a lucky shot that vented the engineering decks to hard vacuum. Worse still, of his medical staff only a trio of newly-hired nurses remained. He had two dozen crewmen literally dying on the decks because there was no one around who knew how to save their lives. As he scowled at his situation, the report came in. A native was approaching from over the ridge and did not appear to be taking a threatening stance. The captain sighed heavily. He didn't feel like dealing with this at the moment, but he knew he'd need information on the locals if he and his men were going to be here awhile. Without an engineering staff it seemed likely that this could indeed become his new home. He ordered a contingent of men to bring the native to the ship.

Taylor wasn't especially surprised when he was greeted with loaded weapons. The offworlders had no way of knowing if he was as hostile as the artillerists they'd had to kill just to land here. Surprisingly, he understood about three words out of every five that they said. Apparently language barriers wouldn't be much of a problem. He dropped his weapons the moment they appeared, of course. No sense in surviving an artillery barrage just to be shot down by the first grunt to come along. He was quite surprised when they took him directly to the captain. He knew from the look on the man's face that he wanted answers, but what drew his immediate attention were the two dozen men lying side-by-side on the floor. He could plainly see the results of battle on their broken forms. Looking to the captain he pointed to the men and said in quick succession "Help, fix, repair, heal, surgery, aid, doctor." He didn't know which word the two men might share, but hoped one would get across the meaning he was trying to convey. The captain blinked for a moment, then started shouting orders. Taylor was bustled down to a room which was unmistakably an infirmary. Dying men were all he saw for the next two days.

When it was over, thirteen survived.

Four days after Taylor had first set foot on the ship he spoke with the captain again. The offworlders had a computer which aided greatly in bridging the gap between their divergent languages. With its aid, it took less than an hour for Taylor and the captain to explain their respective situations to each other. Taylor knew nothing of starship engineering, of course, but all the same he and the captain agreed that he was most likely the best hope the ship had for ever lifting off again. A month later, after fighting off seven attempts by local forces to take the ship, the ship's computer reported that their was a better than 89% chance the vessel would survive a hyperjump and a 99.8% chance of the ship making it into orbit.

Taylor could have stayed behind, of course. The captain gave him that choice. But everyone Taylor knew on his world was dead. His parents had died a decade earlier. His closest friends had died in the rain of artillery. He'd never known any other relatives. And the offworlders gave him something his homeworld had never given him. A reason to fight other than sheer survival. Out there among the stars he could pick and choose his fights and his causes. On Telikon VI the only cause was survival and the only choices were to fight or die. So Taylor left his homeworld behind that day.

In that time he has become a wanted man. It seems that the rest of the universe requires licenses and formal training to heal the sick and injured. He has neither. He has learned to keep this fact a secret from most people. What they don't know won't hurt either of them. Taylor Davidson is a happy man these days. He has left a homeworld that is a very close analogy to hell behind and has become a member of the galactic community, for better or for worse.

He has never regretted his decision.

31 May 2001, 02:45 AM
Nice capsule!

Did his planet use blasters or firearms?

Kayle Skolaris
31 May 2001, 02:50 AM
Both, as well as railguns, particle beam projectors, sonic screamers, electrolasers, gyrojet launchers, crossbows, slings, arrows, and sharp-pointy sticks! :D

Kayle Skolaris
31 May 2001, 03:12 AM
Oh! Oh! And harsh language! Don't forget harsh language! :D

31 May 2001, 03:19 AM
Here is my first try. Comments?

Taylor Davidson

Type: Combat medic
Archaic guns 4D+1, blaster 5D+2, brawling parry 6D, dodge 6D, firearms 4D, grenade 3D+1, melee combat 5D, melee parry 4D, running 4D+2
Steetwise 3D, survival 7D, tactics 3D, willpower 6D+1
Beast riding 4D, communications 2D+2, ground vehicle opr. 3D+2
Bargain 4D, command 6D, con 4D+2, hide 5D, persuasion 4D, search 5D, sneak 5D+1
Brawling 5D+2, climbing/jumping 5D, lifting 4D, stamina 6D, swimming 4D
Blaster repair 6D, demolitions 4D+1, first aid 7D+2, ground vehicle repair 5D+1, (A) Medicine 3D, security 4D+2
Force Points:1
Character Points: 13
Move: 11
Equipment: Blaster carbine (5D), blaster pistol (4D), combat knife (STR +1D+1), medical kit.

Kayle Skolaris
31 May 2001, 03:30 AM
Looks good. Looks REALLY good! Thanks! :)

Kayle Skolaris
31 August 2004, 12:41 PM

31 August 2004, 10:56 PM
BY the lord aiuwtriu!!! I comand you to RISE!