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Travis M. Nartatez

A parapalegic fighter pilot with a brave soul and a hesitant mind.

0 · 173 views · located in ACV Decistor

a character in “ACV Decistor”, as played by poopycoconut

Description

Travis is nearly 28, and he is a stocky young man. He has light brown skin, light gray eyes, and dark brown hair, which he keeps into a tussly mohawk. He was considered "cute" when he was a child and has grown into a "hunk"--- with the exception of his skinny legs, due to being wheelchair-bound for a couple of years. He used to have a number of piercings when he was a teen, and it is apparent due to the number of holes which are healing on him, especially on his ears. He has a tattoo on his chest which lists his name and medical information, and another one on his left arm, depicting a charging bull.

Personality

Travis is calm and passive most of the time. In fact, whenever he is agressive, he is being passive-agressive. He is rather well kown by his fellow pilots for being a parapalegic, and for being the mediator in most fights amongst the crew. He is friendly to everyone he meets, even to those who treat him rather bitterly for whatever reason. He has been noted to be a rather efficient pilot who always follows given orders, and he is rather well-disciplined as well.

He was born in a large but poor family, which had taught him valuable lessons, such as being willing to share and all that. Being raised on the border planets taught him to be dubious of the goverment, but he keeps his ideals to himself. He is understanding and a good listener, and usually keeps quiet about tricky topics, such as the government.

His home planet of Zephyer, in the system of Enoi, had suffered many casualties before and during the war, and he grew up with a casual attitude towards death. Many of his older siblings worked as pilots before him, and he always worried for them, being the butt of jokes of their neighbors. He never saw any of them return home except for one, Rufio.

History

Travis grew up in the dusty, poor, government mocking planet of Zephyer; his birth itself was in the colony ship named the Shooting Star. His mother died during childbirth, making him the youngest of four boys in the family. His father was a cattle-herder, working hard to feed Travis and his brothers, while he himself grew skinnier and weaker each passing year. He eventually died, and the first-born, Rufio, enlisted in the Allied Colonies Naval Fleet Academy at that years draft. Rufio Marco M. Nartatez would be given a medal of honor three years later, for sucessfully leading a rescue mission to recover hostages from a weathier system. The second brother followed, only to be killed in a cross-fire.

Travis was raised by his brother, Lockus, and his sister, Areana. They tended to the cattle that their father left behind, and were content for a while, until Travis decided to leave them and enlist as a fighter pilot at the age of eighteen. Back then, he was idolizing his older brother Rufio, and he was much less milder than he is today, and he caught the attention of the officers. He got into the training programme for fighter pilots, and graduated with honors. He went to the central colonies and underwent four years of training. He served as a Petty Officer in the destroyer ACV Valor, and an accident during a mission cost him the use of his legs. His behavioral record was spotless, earning him a reputation for being a mild-mannered pilot. He was then enlisted onto the Decistor, with the intention of helping him to unlock his full potential as a pilot, and that his passive behavior would help straighten out some of his fellows.

So begins...

Travis M. Nartatez's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Travis M. Nartatez
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A fighter pilot flew in range of the dock, and silver tethers like coiled, metal tentacles rose up and hauled it in. The pilot, a young man with brown hair in a mohawk, sighed with relief and waited until the fighter was safely on the dock. He opened the door carefully, and a medic helped him out of the fighter and into a wheelchair. Travis inhaled sharply through his teeth, and beamed a smile. He was glad to be on the solid deck again. The man who was piloting his wheelchair spoke.

“Finally. Can’t wait to go home.”

Travis looked up, and shrugged. “Yeah, I would, uh, like to go home, as well, and see my brother. What about you, do you have anybody waiting, for you I mean?”

“My wife,” the other man chuckled.

“Oh.”

Travis could see that he was headed to the infirmary. He knew disabled persons were held priority in the infirmary but he thought it was a little ridiculous. He was fine, just a little shaken and bruised from the impacts. He liked to think that he wasn’t, but he always had to have a check-up after missions, just to be safe.

As he was wheeled into the clean room, the sharp smell of alcohol and anispetic hit him. He crinkled his nose, and gave no resistance as he was lifted up from the chair to an examining table. He took off the shirt of his fleet uniform and stared into space as the usual check-up procedure was being performed on him. Heartbeat was still there, his reflexes were fine, yadda yadda. He just wanted some ice for his bruises and to go sleep in his cabin until they arrived.

He then wondered about his brother, Rufio, who was in the Second Fleet with him. He was on another ship, though, the ACV Liberty. Hopefully he didn’t have any problems. He found himself repeating in his head the advice Rufio had given him before he went to enlist: Don’t get to attached to your crewmates, because you never know when they’ll die, never smoke in the fighter (like you’d do that), and never let anybody get you down.

His thoughts were interrupted as a message came over the PA system, from Captain Young.

"Crew of the ACV Decistor. In the last hours you have served admirably in the face of what many called impossible odds. You were assigned to a ship that has already seen it's decommission date, one of the few that survived long enough to do so. In the last hours you have done the name of the Decistor a justice, as a ship that survived it's time in the war, it can now claim the feat of returning to active condition and surviving one of the greatest space battles of the war. By doing this you have also written her legend the honor of seeing the end of the war among the stars."


A pause.

"We have suffered great loss, but also great victory. Take heart for the days ahead, they have been left to you so that you might live for those who died in bringing us this victory. When we set out we where but messengers in an eternal conflict, we return now harbingers of an age of peace. Today we can begin a celebration that will continue on across the stars."


Travis smirked, and put his shirt back on. The medic was now putting him back in his wheelchair, and presumably went to go get some ice for his bruises.

He felt the jump, then, and he felt like he was going to hurl. Well, every time the ship jumped, he always felt a little nauseous. Looks like he would have to get used to it soon, or he'd throw up everywhere.