Player: Kenneth Melvin
E-mail Address: melandra@sol.co.uk
Character: Farro
Race: Neo-Human
Class: ?
Social Class/Rank: Commoner/7
SECLAR: none
Height: ?cm; Mass: ?kg; Hair: ?; Eyes: ?; Apparent Age: ?; Gender: Male
Appearance (AP): ?
Demeanor: ?
Level: 1
X.P/Threshold: 10,100/10k
Monits/Credits:
Languages: Spoken/Written
Galcom: 7/7
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Base Hits: ?
Total Hits: ?
Armor Type: 1
Appearance: ?
History: Farro was born on a small planet, the son of an engineer/mechanic. He grew up relatively quickly working along with his father on the vehicles in the settlement. For fun, his friends used to spend their time racing whatever they had against each other, mostly speeders. Farro, as well as driving reasonably well himself, helped them to tune their speeders to the maximum, making him an indispensible part of the Speed Demons, or so they like to call themselves. When he had reached 17, one of the young nobility of the region got involved with the group. It was obvious right from the start that she was exceptionally talented and as time went on, she just kept getting better. With her money and talent, no-one locally could beat her, but she wasn't content with that.
She asked Farro to work on her speeder and then set to work becoming one of the best racers on her world. By 21, she had outgrown the racing on the planet and went looking for a greater challenge and took Farro with her. He would take turns flying the transport for the speeder but eventually, she progressed far enough to warrant her family setting her up with a Professional contract and Farro was fired as they upgraded her staff.
Date: 30 Han S.D. 5119 of the Fifth Empire.
Time: 23.31
The Highport sat silently above the world of Phaon, orbiting slowly around the planet. The inside of the orbiting complex, was bland and metallic with only The Edge, the stations public lounge, offering any break from the uniformity of the military station. In the public lounge the passengers waited for the shuttle down to the surface.
Farro was engrossed in his own private world. What little activity there was in The Edge seemed to flow by him without notice. It had been a long journey to Phaon, a planet in the middle of nowhere, and now he had to wait to go down to planet. Down below, the planet slowly seemed to spin bringing on a slight sense of vertigo. A good name though Farro, as he looked out of the lounges huge panoramic window that occupied a two level wall of the lounge. If you didn't know better you'd think you were falling he whispered to no-one in particular.
Looking away from the window, he unconciously touched the arm of his jacket. Underneath the padding, in a taped up pocket sat his future. The San Angeles Lottery ticket that sat there was a winner. Famous throughout the core sectors as having made instant billionaires out of its lucky patrons, the lottery had changed his life. Although he wasn't going to be a billionaire, the 10Mcr would be enough to set him up for the rest of his life. If I ever get a chance to cash it he thought. As ever, life wasn't as easy as it had seemed when he was a kid. The problem was the Shadowguild wanted his ticket since it would pay out to any bearer on demand. He had run into some of the Organised crime's facilitators on Arvon, his home planet, when the news about his ticket got out. The rumour was that they had links into the government banking system and he believe it now. He had only got out alive by sheer luck as he was tuning an engine for a friend when the Shadows arrived at his building. The first he knew about it was when Arell contacted him to tell him that there had been trouble at his apartment and Varen had been shot dead. Hed known him since he was 4. It was a huge shock.
The next thing he remembered was settling down in his seat on his way to Phaon. He'd had time to think about his predicament on the journey and realised quickly that he had absolutely no idea how to cash his ticket or who he could trust. With a bit of luck he'd cash the ticket quickly and disappear into the background for a while, maybe into the backwoods of Phaon and its mountains and barren land.
Looking around the lounge, he mentally ticked off all of its occupants. Scattered throughout the room were 13 beings, some talking, some sleeping, but most, like him alone and isolated in the spacious darkness, waiting out the few minutes left until the midnight shuttle planetside. Stretching himself, Farro picked up his bag and headed out of the lounge to clear his head before the journey down to the spaceport just outside the capital, Avalon.
Outside of the waiting lounge, the dimmed lights shadowed one of the small automatic terminals. The only things worth noting outside the Edge were the auto ticket dispensers, some information terminals for Phaon public data (laws and customs) and some storage lockers. Canned advertisements for Phaon merchants and hotels droned endlessly on in monotone voices accompanied by outdated music. Thankfully - the discordant sounds had been off screened from the eerie quiet of the Edge by sound screens and pressure seals. Now, he had to contend with the inane sounds.
At the side of the open space were two pairs of double doors facing each other. Farro had come through the nearest entrance from the liner that had deposited him on the highport. Alongside them was the exit that would take them all to the surface shuttle. Checking his pocket, Farro felt for his cred stick, his hand grasping around it. He had enough money to cover the 57 cr trip to the surface and a while on planet, as long as the stick didn't go missing.
In between the doors stood a series of four display cases, each one displaying an individual frozen in stasis. The first held an alien that had a body similar to an octopus with eyes like a spiders in a circlet pattern on it's head. Next came an attractive woman followed by a muscular man with no hair and numerous tattoos on his body and then an angelic looking young man.
At their side, a glowing signboard flashed the statistics and prices for these offworld criminals. They had apparently traded their periods of prison time for fixed-term slavery off-planet. The highest price, by far, was for the woman at 225 thousand credits, more than the other three put together. Whatever she had done before, she was obviously highly skilled in some useful areas.
In front of the board were a pair of well dressed young men, probably nobles of some degree. They stepped up in front of the woman's stasis tube and a low voice issued forth, presumably giving the pair more information about its contents. Farro clicked in one of the music disks he had on him as one of the men began to make a comment about what he'd like to do with the woman. Tuning out the comment in favour of the music, Farro listened and waited quietly for the shuttle to depart.
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