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Vance Hemolian

"They've taken everything from me. Now I have nothing to lose."

0 · 371 views · located in space

a character in “Into the Void”, as played by SugarNspikeS

Description

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Name: Vance Hemolian
Race: Phaige
Skin color: light violet
Hair color: iridescent blue
Eye color: Bio-luminescent glowing blue

Profile: Vance is the sole survivor from a human attack on his star system. The humans have since covered up this crime that destroyed the entire Phaigean system and the Phaige have since been become the stuff of terrible legends and nightmares used to get children to behave. Vance has put his natural empathic and psychic skills to use as a mercenary with plans to get his revenge.

So begins...

Vance Hemolian's Story

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Vance sat in the darkest booth in the corner of the bar facing the entrance with a strong drink. He wore a black hooded robe that hung low enough to shade his entire face, save for his eyes which glowed a haunting shade of electric blue. He hated places like this, the scum of the universe always seemed to be drawn to them, which, unfortunately, was the very reason he was here. He was in desperate need of credits and this was the place for those in his profession to find work.
His eyes darted to the door as a Fungarian walked through it. He was a tall creature with floppy folds of skin all over his brownish grey body. His hair was more like a slimy moss than actual hair and his clothes weather-worn faded rags barely covering his extremities. He noticed Vance in the booth and took a seat across from him. Vance dropped a gold-colored metal bracelet on the table giving the Fungarian a quick glimpse of his hand and its pale lavender hue. It was a small chain with blue and pink stones and an alien language engraved into it in made of a shimmering gold-like metal and it still had traces of a purple slime on it, blood from its last owner.

"It's done." Vance stated dryly darting his hand back into the sleeve of the robe.
The Fungarian picked up the bracelet and sniffed it before putting it in his pocket and pulling out a small metal card imbedded with a microchip.
"40,000 credits as promised." The Fungarian's deep voice chuckled. He stood up and walked away with a huge smile. Vance sat and nursed his drink for a little longer. His empathic and psychic abilities were telling him to stay and his next client would soon arrive. There was always someone that needed his services in places like these.

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe
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Wolfe blinked forcefully, adjusting the hue in his eyes to flicker in with a deep sea green with slight shreds of gold along the edge. He peered down at the puddle his boot had settled in and stared at the dark wiry seaweed green threads of hair that framed his unfamiliar face dusted in false texture ripples trailing down the sides of his cheekbones. It would have to do, as long as he didn't get himself punched in the face it should do. It should. Texture grafts were convincing. Convincing enough... Anxiety crept up the center of his chest like the fetid gas that stirred up heartburn but he merely solidified his nerves and strode into the bar. He tugged at the collar of his travel jacket and willed himself to absorb the atmosphere around him and blend in. His gait became natural his expression lazy and exhausted. He stepped aside to allow the Fungarian to pass by him. His gaze lingered on the creature for a moment before he took his seat at the bar. He was an informant. A very good one, his biggest advantage being that he was hard to identify and even harder to find. Every time he entered a bar such as this one he wore a new set of skin, he carried a different gait and spoke in a different dialect. Tonight he was a Rajillion, a reptilian species native to an ocean planet, around his throat was a non functioning respirator, its inactive indicators blocked by the thick collar of his jacket. He ordered his drink in a well practiced gutteral watery tone, like that of someone sick with phlegm with the sea faring jargon popular to the region.

"Give us a Rotten sputner, Giin. Cool, no ice." The bartender fulfilled his order a cup of some foul smelling gray foam too thick to be appetizing.

It was about then that Wolfe spotted the hooded figure barely noticeable. He'd been at the job for more than three years, he could spot a merc when he saw one. His danger meter rose swiftly as he was reminded of his situation hiding away in some throwaway bar in a throwaway corner of a star system. Hiding. Always hiding. Who would they send for him? Why of course the one sort that could find him and end his dishonor. His fear cycled like a snake chewing on its own tail before he couldn't take it any longer. He slapped down a couple of coins and downed the sputner before rising to his feet to leave.

"Credits only, can't you read?!" The bartender barked

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe
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Vance noticed a Rajillion walk in as the Fungarian walked out the door. His empathic abilities quickly picked up on the anxiety rolling off him in waves. He was good at keeping his composure in spite of this and Vance knew that there were not many reasons for someone to be that anxious even in a place like this. His psychic abilities were not nearly as great as the fake legends would’ve had everyone believe. He was able to tap the thoughts of others but he couldn’t fully read a person’s mind. The subconscious, deep thoughts, memories, none of them were accessible through his basic abilities, that required what his people called a mental merge interface, a technique used by his people as one of the most intimate acts of love, once it had been done you would know literally everything about the other person.
Vance tapped the alien’s thoughts. He wasn’t Rajillion, he was human! He was an informant, but it wasn’t clear who he was there to meet or what information he was planning on giving. The human gave his garbled order and then turned around scanning the room, he assumed looking for the person he was informing. Vance kept his head down and the hood covering his face, but he heard the thoughts of the human recognize him as a mercenary. He was really quite impressed, no one had even been able to spot that from first glance. He wasn’t known as the shadow of death because he was obvious. He saw the guy gulp down the putrid drink he had ordered and attempt to pay in some weird type of coin.
"Credits only, can't you read?!" the gruff bartender barked at him.
“This should cover it.” Vance said emotionlessly as he dropped his card down. He felt the bolt of sheer terror rip through the human as he did so. “What has this guy done?” he thought to himself. “Nice grafts, but whoever did them didn’t pay attention to the details. They forgot the webbed fingers, Rajillions are aquatic reptilians. Also that respirator of yours is lower than where the gills of a real Rajillion would be. But don’t worry, you’re not a target of mine. I know you’re an informant, but why do you need to hide the fact that you’re human? Also, how were you able to tell I was a mercenary?” Vance asked in a hushed voice so those around them wouldn’t hear. He kept his face forward and his tone just as dry and flat as it had been with the bartender.

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe
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Wolfe slowly settled back into his seat, a conspicuous move even for his recent sequence of clumbsy events. He looked more annoyed than scared at this point his panic switching to a more defensive nature as the mercenary spoke, pointing out all the flaws in his disguise. He brought a hand up to the respirator and glared at the stranger with a sidelong look then did what came as second nature to him and told half truths. "Would it surprise you that people want me dead and that I would assume, you being a mercenary would be the one to make someone's wish come true? You do that for the right price don't you?"

He'd dropped the accent completely but spoke in such an undertone that it was unlikely even the bartender could hear him as he bustled to and fro and made to look busy cleaning things. Wolfe dug into another pocket, inside the jacket rather than outside and pulled out the credits he had intended to pay with earlier.

"Do what you do best and accept the money, mercenary and I'll do you the favor of forgetting I ever met you if you do the same."

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe
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“While it doesn’t surprise me in the least that a human, like yourself, has others who want him dead. And while it is also true that, for the right price and with a certain amount of personal pleasure, you would have been dead before you sat down, but, as I said before, I’m not here to kill you.” He turned to glare at the human, while his face was still cloaked in the shadow of his hood, his eyes glowed intensely, as though they might emit laser beams, with the insult that had been lobbed at him. He ignored the bolt of fear and shock he picked up as the human saw his eyes. “Furthermore, taking money is far from what I do best. Killing is my specialty, many call me the shadow of death. I’m sure there are just as many out there who want me dead as you, probably more. Does anyone care about the people I’ve rescued? Does anyone care about the priceless artifacts that I’ve retrieved? No. The only thing I get credit for is the killing. So tell me, Mr. Wolfe, what could you have done to warrant so many people wanting you dead and why are you so desperate to make me go away?”

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe
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Wolfe had to be dreaming. It was one of his night terrors come to life. Those eyes! The palor that bleached his face was visible even with the dusting of green and false scales. This wasn't possible. He was mistaken no doubt there are countless creatures out there that could have eyes exactly like that. The Phaige couldn't possibly be the only one. The calm that came from his tone was in eerie contrast to the waves of mixed emotions that spilled from him like a bad oil leak.

"You're right, why not. Why not confess my sins to you, a stranger." He said with a laugh that didn't match his sarcastic tones. "I've got a lot of questions for you...admittedly...Why don't we get out of this dump. I can take this crap off my face, and we can talk like men."

Wolfe rose to his feet, expecting the mercenary to follow. He didn't take his time, tucking his hands into his pockets doing his best to calm his mind. IF this stranger was one of them, if his paranoia was true he knew how best to fight him, how best to kill him if he needed to. Step one was to not want to, to not intend to, and he didn't. He was going to take this stranger to his hideout for a drink, yes that was all. "I have a place, nearby I've used as a nest-..."The rest of his sentance was lost as he used one hand to push the door open and made as if to forget to hold it open for him, allowing himself to slip past and out of view, for a split second. Wolfe wasn't sure if the mercenary would be able to read his intent at that point, he moved as smoothly and as quickly as he could to pull the small toy-like pistol from the holster at his chest.

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe
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Vance was getting an overflow of emotions blasting his empathic powers. He couldn’t focus on Wolfe’s thoughts as he quickly dashed for the door. Vance kept his movements at an intentionally slower speed so as not to raise suspicion. He knew that there was a good chance that his reputation had reached Earth and the galactic council. He knew that if they even suspected the Shadow of Death of being Phaige it wouldn’t be long before they started sending assassins to take him out. He couldn’t tell if this Wolfe guy was actually an informant like he seemed to be, or if he was a very well-trained killer with experience in killing psychics. He didn’t trust this guy and he felt certain that he was walking into an ambush situation if he walked out the door but he knew this guy had some sort of information that could help him get his revenge. He reached into his robe and pulled out a small dagger. He pushed a button on the hilt and a plasma stream began to glow along the blade’s edge.
He opened the door to see the ships of many of the patrons in the desert landscape of the planet. There were large walls around the outside of the property to keep the Steel Claws out. The Steel Claws were a race that had taken up residence on this planet after war had destroyed their own. They were a feline humanoid race that had glands in base of their finger tips that secreted an organic steel-like compound onto their claws that got harder as they got older. They were vicious pirates and they attacked anyone unlucky enough to cross into their territory. This triggered suspicion as to the validity of Wolfe’s claim to having nest.
He kept his blade low and hidden as he walked into view and saw that Wolfe drawing a pistol. “Now, is that really the best idea? I get the lack of trust.” He said as he revealed his blade. “But how am I supposed to answer any of your questions if you kill me?” He turned the plasma off on the blade and set it on the ground. He raised his hands up in a surrendering gesture. “Look I don’t know what you want from me, but surely we can work something out. Like you said let’s just go talk.”

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe
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"Shut up!" Wolfe snapped, cutting him off as he spoke, the gun barrel trembling slightly as he pointed it at him. It wasn't an impressive weapon, it seemed to be crafted out of a single piece of polished metal giving it a manufactured toy-like appearance. It looked fake, but the mercenary would have been able to identify it as a cheap but effective low powered energy pistol. It was dirt at shooting in any decent range but would do its job in his circumstance. Wolfe was definitely not a killer. He didn't want to kill anyways. Nevertheless he held the pistol with the skill to do so. "Take the hood off. Take the damned hood off. I want to make sure. I have to make sure you're not one of them. It's not....It's not possible. Those eyes. Y-you have to be something else, I want to make sure."

He was babbling now, clearly out of his right mind and he'd catch a bad sort of attention if he kept at it like that. A spark of self-awareness caused him to realize this fact and his eyes darted to both sides, attempting to plan a better way to seek his answers. "Y-you stay right there at that distance, we're going to that ship over there. It's mine. Don't try anything stupid."

Wolfe traveled in a nondescript interstellar space vehicle, a cruiser adapted for mostly mid-range pond skips. It was tiny, built for at most three people to live inside and had an old fashioned hyper drive system that shut off most of the main interior lighting to prioritize power. Wolfe spent many lonely weeks drifting through space under the dim glow of backup lighting re-reading old earth magazines he collected from different planets. The vehicle itself resembled a grasshopper almost with jagged wings jutting upward and back like the characteristic legs and it's shining exoskeleton of radiation shielding sharp and angular in appearance. It seemed to crouch, its head bowed low its entrance tucked right behind it's "head".

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe Character Portrait: Lendrinia Vokilla
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"Take the hood off. Take the damned hood off. I want to make sure. I have to make sure you're not one of them. It's not....It's not possible. Those eyes. Y-you have to be something else, I want to make sure." Wolfe demanded in a slightly trembling voice. His thoughts ringing clear in Vance’s mind. Before Vance could respond he noticed him looking around as if coming to his senses at least a little bit. Vance noticed a large metallic being of an origin he didn’t recognize making a trade with some Blunu, exchanging a large crate for some credits.
"Y-you stay right there at that distance; we're going to that ship over there. It's mine. Don't try anything stupid." Wolfe ordered.
Oddly the ship was parked right next to his own. His was a sleek model from the Ter ‘Entella system. It was shaped like a large teardrop with four bat-like wings in an “X” shape. The ship was big enough for a small crew of four people at the maximum, but could easily be piloted by one. He had also made a number of improvements to the engines and installed an artificial intelligence to make the ship easier to pilot on his own.
“Okay, I’m going. I’ll take my hood off in the ship, I can’t risk it out here, it could cause a panic if anyone saw.” He walked to the ship’s entrance and walked inside keeping his hands raised and his eyes on Wolfe. He saw glimpses of his memories that he had right at the surface. The horrors as Wolfe killed the last remaining survivors of his home world. The sadness and remorse he felt before he ever pulled the trigger. This man may have following orders, but he wasn’t a killer.
Wolfe walked into the ship and Vance waited until the door closed. He slowly grabbed the edges of his hood and pulled it back and down. He lifted his head to face him. His iridescent blue hair shimmering in the dim light of the interior like an oil slick on water. His glowing blue eyes staring at him, not with anger, but with empathy. “Yes, I am Phaige. I’m the last Phaige as far as I know. None of this is your fault, you were following orders. And now you’re faced with a choice; do you finish following orders and kill me as well or will you do what you know is right?”

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe Character Portrait: Lendrinia Vokilla
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The inside of Wolfe's ship was incredibly cramped, there were two pilots seats situated at the very front down two very steep steps that cut into the floor more like a ladder. It was like a Space worthy camper van with no windows along the side, only jagged gagues and indicator lights and two handle rails in bright red trailing along the arched roof. The narrow one man hall that made up the body took up the majority of the space and the pair stood in it as they had their interaction, their hairsnot far from brushing the ceiling.

For a moment Wolfe stood gun pointed at the Phaige his mind recalling the last moments he'd seen a face like that kneeling before him, loathing in that iridescent glare, the pleading...not even the children...

Wolfe's gun clattered to the floor. He couldn't see straight due to tears welling up in his eyes and he fell to his knees before the Phaige all semblance of speach desintigrating into wails. So many years of post traumatic torment. Travelling from planet to planet to hide from people who never searched for him. He belonged in that empty grave.

Wolfe dug his hands into the thin electrical fabric that coated his face, feeling its crackle as its curtain of electricly charged scales tore like tissue paper. Flakes of golden graft fluttlere to the floor and he rubbed fervently at his eyes to get the contacts to fall away. He crawled to the hem of the Phaige's robe and took his hand pushing the gun into his palm looking up at him with irritated eyes.

"I have waited for a long time....s-surely fate intends for this...for you. The tables are in your hands, I...I am yours now." He muttered incoherently. "It's OK." He said finally.

He sat back on his heels and lowered his head, and then...his mind cleared. The frantic energy of his obsessive paranoia and fear finishing with a decided calm as he realized his easy escape. His solution. His redemption. Death. The Phaige had managed to break him without laying a hand on him. No. He didn't do that. The human military did that when he was ordered to commit genocide. When he was forced to look into the eyes of a family and end them all. His own regret did the rest. Wolfe had been from the start a pawn in a larger game. A pawn of a pawn. A foot soldier in a political mind game that had turned natural human animocity towards the Phaige. Sent it crashing down upon them. Wolfe came from a planet that hailed their destruction, praised it with celebratory flags and goung Wolfe joined that cause out of obligatory pride. How best was an young man to find his honor and place? His family loved him for it.

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe Character Portrait: Lendrinia Vokilla
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This planet was unsavory for Lendri. She had been noting the looks she had been getting from the planet's residents as she wandered around the ship parking. While she was large on all fours, she was now carrying a flat piece of metal, a glowing metal tube, and a couple paper texts that made her even taller and larger than usual. She seemed to be a foot larger than the average Arkata, A leonine race from a desert planet that are known for being very tall due to the gravity of their planet. The plate had a purpose however, a wing needed to be fixed as well as needed fuel. Her ship was a re purposed two decked Teludir Scout Cruser, made larger and wider to accommodate atleast 10 to 15 of her kind. Covered in hyroglyiphic writing of her people made from the paint found while planet hopping. It was a good bit larger than other ships, but no less run down if not a bit better maintained aside from a cracked wing plate.

She hummed again, seeing two beings walk into a ship a few parked ships away. She couldn't really tell what they were, but one looked exceedingly paranoid. In this business, that was a good thing. To a point anyway. Lendri knew that not many people would mess with a Forge walker with the knowledge of what she could do. Even then, her size was intimidating. As she ducked into her ship, she noticed things out of place. Somethings in places she didn't put them. A crash from the back of her ship caused her to drop her things and rush to the back with a loud and booming roar. A smaller Steel Claw thief with scrolls and books in his arms and was about to leave with his loot. Now he was squirming under the foot of a purple venting 'walker. "I dooown't know who sent you to collect my texts, but your promisss for credits are for nothing." She growled as the Steel claw screamed in pain from the heat that was being emitted from her hand. Her books and texts were scattered around them as she opened her maw around his head. Within minutes, the screaming stopped as well as the thrashing. The smell of burnt fur wafted through the air as she lifted her head back up to revel that the face had effectively melted under the radiation and heat. There was less mess this way.

Lendri started to rummage through the corpses pockets and bags, taking nearly everything of value. Weapons, credits, even things that didn't seem to matter like the metal bits found throughout his fur and thrown into her maw. At this rate, she was expecting company due to the screams of pain. She threw the corpse out of her ship as she climbed up to with the metal sheet. Fixing this wing needed to be a quick job so she could leave. She had credits to make and time was surely money at this point.

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe
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Vance looked at the smooth pistol in his hand. Without thought his fingers instinctively clasped around the handle. He looked down at the man before him who was baring his true self to him for the first time. His eyes, now a deep dark brown, had looked up at him with such honesty as the façade he had built up to protect himself had crumbled away.

“My planet was peaceful. We were technologically advanced in many areas, though we never left our star system. Many races from nearby star systems would trade with us. I was fifteen when the first Human ship entered our planet's atmosphere. This was long before the Earth had even heard of the Galactic Council and we were excited to meet a new species. The humans explained that they were there on a mission of exploration and they wished to get to know our species better, trade with us and learn about our culture. Our highest representatives explained that we never left our system for safety reasons, but that we would gladly trade with them. The humans didn’t mind and things were fine for about a year. That’s when the humans became interested in our power source, tridaxium. The cores of my planet and its moons are composed entirely of tridaxium and it leeches to the surface in large deposits. Tridaxium is a unique crystalline mineral with a unique ability to absorb and store a near infinite amount of kinetic energy. Over the billions of years that my planet has been rotating, it has obviously stored quite a bit. It could be tapped as easily as any other crystalline power source, so naturally it could be quite dangerous if it got into the wrong hands. We knew they would want to weaponized it, but we couldn’t allow that. They fist asked us to trade it with them and we explained why we couldn’t do that and that’s when they began to research our past. They found out how we feed on plasma and in the past there were some who fed on their enemies in times of war. They played on the fears of the human masses comparing us to a creature from your ancient myths called a vampire. Then came the accusation that some of my people had begun killing humans in order to feed on their plasma. It was a lie, but that didn’t matter, there was already fear and the damage had been done. We asked to humans to leave our system and never return. They refused and we informed them that this would be an viewed as an act of war. So they left.” Vance paused a second. His voice began to crack as he told his story and fought the urge to cry. “We thought that was it. Six years of strife was finally done. The humans left our planet and we would never have to deal with them again. But then a different set of ships arrived. They were huge. There was one last communication sent to the entire planet stating that if we gave them the tridaxium they would spare our planet. The next morning, they used their sweep pulse weapon to erase my people. I was in a mining camp on our third moon when they fired the weapon on the planet and I knew the moons were next. I figured the only chance for survival was to get underground. The camp would listen to me and assumed that the humans weren’t smart enough to use the weapon on our moons because they didn’t know about the mining camps there. None of them survived, including my parents. I was the only one to survive in that camp. I knew scouting parties wouldn’t be far behind to kill any survivors that would have been underground. Luckily we were in the process of filling one of the mining ships and it was in the mine and safe with me. I took the ship and left the moon as fast as I could and headed for the Tar ‘Entella system, the closest system with no ties to the council. I’ve been on the run for the last eight years now, and I’ve watched as Earth used dirty politics to gain control of the Galactic Council. During that time, I’ve made a reputation for myself as the best mercenary in the galaxy. You’re the first person to see my face since I left.”

He looked down on the man and then to the gun with a slight look of confusion. The genocide of his people had been the catalyst that flipped the switch on his emotions. He was dead inside. It was the thing that allowed him to kill others, whether it was a client’s mission or because they got in the way of him fulfilling a client’s mission. He was able to take them down without a second thought, no remorse, no mercy. Now, here he was looking down at a man who was responsible for murdering at least a small group of his people. A man who was literally putting a gun in his hand and begging him to pull the trigger. This was a man that deserved to die, a man that he wanted to kill more than anything right now. But he couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger. His thoughts went to his family and friends. They wouldn’t want him to do this. Tears began to roll down his cheeks and dropped to his knees to look Wolfe in the eyes once more and slid the gun across the floor to the other side of the room.
“I can’t kill you.” He sobbed. “Every fiber of my being is telling me I should, that I can’t trust you. But, in spite of that, I know that murdering you will not bring peace to either of us, only rest to you. You’ve been running for so long, you’re so exhausted. I will help you to find the rest, the redemption you deserve. But, in return, you will help me to get the justice I deserve. We will help each other.” He stood up offering a hand to Wolfe to help him to his feet. “Also, it might be a good idea to take my ship, it’s roomier.” He said after banging his head on the low ceiling.

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe
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Wolfe slowly got to his feet, dazed he wiped his eyes and looked around him at his ship. It had been his home for so long yet the roiling in his stomach told him he wouldn't miss it. The place had been the prison he'd isolated himself inside, the vehicle he used to run from his guilt. Wolfe was still having trouble attempting to register the fact that he was still alive. There was a bit of resentment there quietly sitting at the bottom of his chest at the fact that he could not pull the trigger, but a sort of relief was growing there too. Redemption. The idea sounded painful and difficult but the hope tasted good, real good. This Phaige was looking for justice, answers towards why and how and who did this to his people. Wolfe's logical mind ticked back into gear one engine at a time.

"Y-yes...We can...sell this..." He said in a husk of a voice. "I have...important documents. Military information. It's outdated....but..."

The corners of his mouth twitched slightly and he pressed himself against the wall gesturing for the Phaige to slip behind him. It really was a cramped ship. He had never truly realized as much. Not once had he agreed to travel with anyone else. "I should have...kept my chip. It had encrypted data that you would have deemed useful." He murmured once the Phaige had gone behind him. His paranoia didn't quite leave him all in one fell swoop. He continued to glance over his shoulder instinctively but his mind seemed to be at peace with the Phaige's presence. What would it matter to him if he decided to change his mind and shoot him in the back. There were three bunks in the ship, all as small as walk-in closets with curtains instead of doors to separate them from the rest of the ship. One held all of personal items, his cot laden with magazines a crate of liquor sitting underneath and a galactic map tacked to the wall with various colored pins stuck in specific spots around stars. Each color representing something different, mainly associations and use. Around the map were pictures of just about every sort of alien that was commonly known with their names written in english and their native language. On his slim little metal dresser sat a couple of digital texts and an electric pipe that needed cleaning. He kept a pistol beneath his pillow and another taped up under his bed.

Wolfe passed by his cot room though into the second bunk which had been repurposed. The bed was folded up into the wall replaced with a desk. Wolfe rummaged over it picking up a Kodai disk set, a device which held multiple media chips that contained anything from digital documentation to audio and visual recordings. He thrust that into Vance's arms and rummaged through the desks hesitating when he found his military badge, torn right off his uniform. Sentimentalism threaded through the human species like a thick piano wire he wasn't going to allow himself to forget for as long as he lived. He tucked that into his pocket. "Those Kodai have information on them. Old propaganda, news articles, and orders that were sent across planetary barriers. Things your planet would never have seen with your isolationism. It is incomplete. Our systems are so spread out, so intricate now. I don't know who set it off, who started the call for war but they all called for it in the end. High presidents, Chancelors, Prime ministers, Planetary overseers. There is too much in the chain of command now, the politics...The current prime minister of the Galactic Council benefited the most on the outside, but a lot of power was shifted when he rose. It's deeper than I ever would have thought. If you want your revenge...you're going to need a strong plan."

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe Character Portrait: Lendrinia Vokilla
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Even all the credits in the world couldn't help the sense of loneliness in her heart. The day of the attack still played on in her mind as the screams of her friends and family scrambled to gather as much of their people's history as they could and hop on any ship to get off planet before the city was cracked open. An entire navy trying to pick off any escaping ships racing through meteor belt to escape. It was only by pure luck that a good majority had scattered like roaches, but the planet was a complete loss as it was over taken. She even knew that her race's counterparts had to have made a run for it off planet to survive.

Lendri lifted her head to the sky, watching ships lift off and fly to other worlds like she had been for the past four years. It was tiring, knowing more of her kind were out there but unable to connect. That or she was looking in the wrong places. It wasn't easy to find your kind when you all never had a distinct style of ship. Still this planet had at least some variety in terms of being and to her knowledge this was a planet outside council control. With another client that was a no show and things to sell, it wouldn't hurt to mill around.

The Wing itself was stable with her maintenance. A quick weld and flick of the shields to see if it would register was all it took. Telidir ships had pretty good defense and good for trade work. She hopped off of her ship on all fours, shaking off the shock with a clang of her plates. As flexible as they were, they were still mostly metal. The ship yard was mostly barren, which was mostly normal. Assuming most were either away or asleep in them. But it was the sound of two people talking, what about she couldn't decipher at the current moment, but it was something. They weren't her clients, but having a lead wouldn't hurt if they had any information.

The gait was slow and thoughtful. Making sure she speed off at a moment's notice if they proved to be hostile. Though this didn't stop her from knocking on the side of the ship with purpose. "Fotxilan*, if one does not mind, I would like to ask you some questions." Her English was passable at best, enough to understand most clients fine. At the very least she hoped that she would get her point across.

*Fotxilan = roughly "excuse me", literally "I wish for your attention"

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe Character Portrait: Lendrinia Vokilla
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Wolfe froze as a muffled metallic clanging rang against the side of his ship. He pulled open the top drawer if his desk and armed hunsekf with a pistol before squeazing past Vance to get back to the entrance hatch. He released the door and kicked the short ladder down to peer at the alien milling around looking for him.

"What do you want? I want no trouble." He said stoutly. He had never deeen a creature such as her before and he wondered vaugely if she was less creature and more machine. "Answers require payment."

He didn't point the gun at her, frankly he wasn't sure the energy bolts woukd penetrate her...well...whatever it was. But he made it clear that he was armed, holding the gun in his right hand.

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe Character Portrait: Lendrinia Vokilla
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Lendri's eyes blinked behind the face plate, tilting her head to the side as she rumbled with curiosity. "I come with no trouble. I have credits, weapons...a working engine for this pod." She couldn't help but notice the condition of this little ship of his. It looked like it could barely hold hold him let alone her. Steam bellowed out of her vents like a sigh as she kept her attention on the ship's occupant.

"I only wish to know if you have seen anymore like me. In another system or planet maybe?" Her words were measured, as if she were making sure that she was using the right words. Her head tilted to the side once more, eyes falling on gun in his right hand. "Also, that will not help you against my kin. It bounces off every time." she mentioned matter-of-factly. It happened quite often. Other races try to drive her off from her own ship thinking she was a monster and shoot at her with energy bolts only to annoy her. Then again, being an advanced race that once quietly tended to it's own affairs made things difficult once everyone had to scatter to survive. She even wondered if the Ice-scrapers were having this same issue. Then again they might have had it worse since they looked even more like beasts due to their cold side of the planet.

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe Character Portrait: Lendrinia Vokilla
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Wolfe looked her over and glanced down at his pistol. He could say without a second thought that he had never come across a creature like her before. She was....bizarre. It looked as if her insides were made of fire and magma, steam billowing from her vents as if she were a steam powered machine. Any human from his home planet would have called her a demon. "I don't suppose you'd sell me a weapon that could harm you, would you."

It was a joke, a dead one at that, he didn't chuckle afterwards, only glanced back at his ship. "I'm selling her, I don't need an engine, and I'm sorry to say but I have never seen the likes of you before." He turned, about to enter the ship again when he paused. Wolfe had survived all these years by finding information, things others couldn't find themselves. Surely he knew of someone who could at least point her in the right direction. That would take time, time he no longer had now that he was aiding the Phaige. "I am very busy at the moment...but with time, and credits I can find someone who may know something. What's your name and origin?"

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe Character Portrait: Lendrinia Vokilla Character Portrait: Eben Gragantha Character Portrait: Khazrin Vrek'hel
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While Wolfe went outside to investigate the source of the thumping on the side of the ship Vance pulled his hood back up to hide his face. He walked out of the ship to find three other aliens. He recognized the plant-like Armojan and his Helvan companion, the Armojans had traded with the Phaige in the past and surely they were aware of the destruction of his home world which seemed all the more reason to keep his face covered. He didn’t need too many more beings finding out that he had survived. The Forge Walker was a race that he had only met once in the past. For the first time in a long time he felt at a disadvantage, he wasn’t able to hear the thoughts of the Forge Walker due to the metal plating, nor could he hear the thoughts of the Helvan because of his armor. However, his empathic abilities were working perfectly, but with so four of them so close together it was difficult to tell which emotion was coming from whom. There was an overwhelming feeling of cautious tension in the air as well as excitement and optimism. He had heard the Forge Walker asking about seeing others. He watched the hologram of all the different species she had met until it was over. He took note that there was no picture of the Phaige

“I’ve met one of your kind before. I think he said his name was Kaztild. He set up a shop on a junk planet in the Tar ‘Entella system. He was a nice guy, he helped me rebuild this thing from the ground up.” He said as he raised a hand and pointed to his sleek black ship parked next to the one he walked out of careful not to let anyone get a glimpse of his face. “I believe the planet was Tharas Nine.” He turned back to Wolfe as he was picking up thoughts of worst-case scenarios with these aliens from him as well as a bit of anxiety. He took a step towards him and whispered just loud enough for Wolfe to hear. “Calm down, they don’t want to kill us.” Though he knew that Wolfe already knew that, this would be a terrible place to kill them, too many witnesses. “How about we all go get a drink?” Vance suggested to the group picking up on the Forge Walker’s thirst.

Normally he wouldn’t have suggested this, but he remembered that Armojans had history with humans as well and he might be able to get some information that could be of use. After that, though, he knew he had to return to Phaigea, his planet. Specifically, he had to go to the mining camp on the third moon where his parents were working. He knew that even if the humans knew about the mines on the planet, they had no idea about ones on the moons. He knew there was a recording of the final communication from earth before they fired their weapon. If he could get that to the non-human members of the Galactic Council, he could get justice. That’s where Wolfe would come in, Vance couldn’t just walk in to the council building without being killed by the human guards, but Wolfe could get the recording and any other information to the non-human members with less chance of being caught.


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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe Character Portrait: Lendrinia Vokilla Character Portrait: Eben Gragantha Character Portrait: Khazrin Vrek'hel
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Wolfe could live without the extra credits he could have earned from the metal beast, a disappointment though it was but the sudden invitation to bring them all out for drinks gave him pause. "Now, hold on...Is that wise? Let's not forget where we are we can't just bring Happy-go-lucky and his tin man into a brawl bar. Not when they mistake a landing dock for a safari of curiosities and intrigue. At least the furnace seems like she can handle herself...n-no offense." He glanced sidelong at Lendrinia. "He's too showy. Listen...I know someone who could keep an eye on my ship and we can get out of here. Safer among the stars."

Fact of the matter was he hated the curious energy the Armojan was giving off and even more the dutiful silence of his guardian. They didn't belong there. He faltered slightly, remembering the fact that the only reason he still drew breath was out of kindness of the Phaige. He had no right to make complaints. "Or...at least...we should at least get to the orbital, there's a sit down restaurant and its a regular by-way for merchants and shippers. Safer."

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe Character Portrait: Lendrinia Vokilla Character Portrait: Eben Gragantha Character Portrait: Khazrin Vrek'hel
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Wolfe was making some good points, however bluntly he was doing it. “Alright now, no need to fly off the handle.” Vance said in an attempt to calm Wolfe’s paranoia. “I’m sorry about this, he’s been under a lot of stress and almost got himself killed earlier today.” Vance said turning to the others and giving a light chuckle. “I’m Vance and this is Mr. Wolfe. In our line of work trust doesn’t come easy. He does bring up a good point however, the orbital and its café are a great place to find information and surely if I’ve seen a Forge Walker, there must be others out there who have as well.” He turned to head off in the direction of his ship.

“Ravie, open the entrance.” He spoke into a small remote he took out of his pocket.
“As you wish.” A disembodied female voice spoke from the ship. A hatch opened and lowered a set of stairs.
“So we’ll meet you at the orbital then?”

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe Character Portrait: Lendrinia Vokilla Character Portrait: Eben Gragantha Character Portrait: Khazrin Vrek'hel
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Khazrin followed Eben, not protesting his protected scientist's decision despite deeming it rash; he will get used to it, eventually, but until then, those who interact with the Armojan should learn to pay no mind to his eerie stares.

Apparently, the Forge Walker did not seem as aggressive as she actually looked. But he will still keep an eye on the alien, perhaps intrigued by her noble quest. The other two - the armed human and his cloaked fellow recalled his attention, too - but be it that they are not as rare as the Forge walker, or that they had a sinister vibe echoing beneath their skin, they did not leave a positive remark in Khazrin - especially the shrouded one, that just invited Eben to have a drink at a nearby local. Khazrin looked at the Armojan scientist, and awaited his answer. Most certainly, the Armojan understood that this invite wasn't out of sheer kindness.

Eben's interested perusal of the Forge Walker was interrupted by the hooded figure's suggestion of hitting the bar for a drink, followed by his human partner's objection. Apparently they would be heading up to an orbital station. Much more secluded there. How fortunate that the Armojan and his accomplice were about to depart anyway.

"With so many different species packed together, it's really more like a safari than you might think," he stated, his tone somewhat calmer than it had been mere moments ago. "Not to mention there are many things that may bite. Or try to tear off the stabiliser fins on your ship unless you shoo them away. Most inconvenient, myes. Anyway! We shall meet you in orbit." Turning on his heel, Eben began to walk away, briefly stopping to turn back to the Forge Walker.

"Ah... Lendrinia, was it? Ebensomanth Gragantha, pleased to make your acquaintance. I shall certainly look forward to speaking with you later, if I may." Giving her an amicable nod, he and Khazrin went back to their own ship. The Armojan pulled out a datapad from within his trenchcoat and started looking for which stations were in orbit. The human hadn't given the name of the restaurant, so they would have to tail the other ships and hope for the best.

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe Character Portrait: Lendrinia Vokilla Character Portrait: Eben Gragantha Character Portrait: Khazrin Vrek'hel
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Lendri nodded, about to comment about how the Armojan knew her name and then realized in that same moment that her voice was quite loud in comparison to the others here. That and she was by far the biggest. The invatation to the orbital made her nod, as any place to get a drink was quite alright with her and not having to argue with the door man again about letting her in was also a treat. "Yes, that would wonderous." she said plainly, before turning away but not before letting the amojan speak. "Yes, I would not mind speaking with you."

With that she turned back towards her own ship, trotting towards it as the hatch opened to let her in. The ship spoke in a rumbling sort of language as she climbed into the hatch. The ship had been rebuilt from the ground up by her hand as all Forge-walker built ships were. Most brought back from junk planets or those that had crashed landed on their world and their inhabitants killed off by the harshness of the surface. Teludir ships were common as they often discarded their older model ships and in turn were taken in by the Yigbaryi. In inside, however, was notably her people's own. A mix of carved stone and hieroglyphs on the walls. Monitors seamlessly integrated into stone and wiring looked more like veins in an ore mine. This was the last semblance of home since her people were driven off world. She wondered if the hooded figure's ship looked something like her own since he did say one of her kin built his ship as well. She didn't remember if the hooded one said a specific station, so she would have to follow his tail. The engines of her ship roared to life with that familiar purple light this ship provided. She supposed after a drink she would head to the planet vance had mentioned. Junk planets were full of good finds and where there were good finds there were walkers seeking them.

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe Character Portrait: Lendrinia Vokilla Character Portrait: Eben Gragantha Character Portrait: Khazrin Vrek'hel
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As the others departed to their own ships, Vance also went into his. The inside was sleek and a majority of the controls were touch screen panels with the exception of control stick used for manual control and steering. Vital readouts displayed as projections on the cockpit window, while those of lesser importance displayed on the touch screens. The cockpit had two seats as it was flown optimally by two people, but with the AI he had installed flying it alone was not difficult.
He waited in the cockpit for Wolfe to get the rest of his stuff or to find someone to watch his ship until he could sell it. He would meet up with the others at the orbital. There was only one with a café and a market place, so he figured the others would be able to find it with a simple scan.
“Ravie, get ready to take-off when Mr. Wolfe gets aboard.”

“As you wish, Vance. Which one is Mr. Wolfe?”

“The Human, Ravie. Take off when the Human gets on.”

“Very well.”

Ravie, short for Ravager, had been the closest thing Vance had to a friend, even if she was just an artificial intelligence, in the eight years he’d been in hiding. She was able to control the ship as Vance would when he needed to rest or was unable to pilot. There were a number of retractable robotic appendages within the ship and Ravie was also programed with a library of medical texts regarding the Phaige so that she could help Vance if he were injured. Also the ship was equipped with a medical synthesizer that was used to replicate synthetic Phaige plasma so he could feed. There were few alien species that the Phaige could actually feed off of in spite of what the tales would have you believe.

The control panels lit up and the engines began to hum. An electric blue glow began to emanate from the engines. The engines weren’t combustion-based like many of the older human ships, they were negative field engines powered by tridaxium. The radiation of the tridaxium, although harmless, was the cause of the blue glow in the negative field generator ports which would normally have a pure white glow.
“Ravie, display anatomy of the following races: Armojan, Helvan, and Forge Walker.”

“As you wish.” She replied and a holographic display showed up in the middle of the room showing three figures and displaying the anatomy of all of them.
Vance studied them as he waited for Wolfe. He didn’t think things would come to a fight, as none of them had any violent feelings that he was able to pick up on while they were present, but just in case he studied the displays for any type of weakness he could exploit if it came to that.

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe Character Portrait: Lendrinia Vokilla Character Portrait: Eben Gragantha Character Portrait: Khazrin Vrek'hel
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Wolfe vanished back into his ship and tucked his earpiece behind his ear. It was a very old ship type. "Computer, ring up Zoma from the Three Suns station. Send him the following message: Zoma, I have a rust bucket for sale, if you want it in one piece with all its salvageable parts you'll send your bucket head goons in to collect it before the feline vermin on this planet steal the last bolt and rivet. Attach the coordinates and apply my usual encryption. He'll know who it is...and if he's smart he'll know what he owes me when it's sold."
The computer confirmed the message, read it back to him and sent it all while Wolfe went from room to room with items in his hands stuffing notes and messages and files into his bag. He had very little actual personal items, just a few sets of clothes, the torn badge and a journal that had pages and photographs poking out. He left most of his guns as well favoring the one pistol he had tucked under his pistol, an old fashioned hand made hand gun from his home world styled after the ones they used to use on earth. It fired actual bullets and was worth half as much as the ship he was selling. He tucked it into his belt and stuffed the last of his research into a large case and shuffled his way out of the ship, with difficulty.

Vance's ship was a lot bigger and a lot fancier than Wolfe cared for. He strode on feeling a bit grimy as he looked about. It was leagues beyond his clumsy little machine. Wolfe could feel silence overcome him as he felt...a bit awkward at their situation. He had killed this man's...well...kin, had aided in their virtual extinction and now he gazed about for a place to stow away his undergarments in his ship. He still felt as if he shouldn't be alive, the feeling tugged at his chest like a spidery hand trying to grab a slug, he felt a bit like he wanted to be sick.

"My ship will be fine here. Salvagers will come by probably around the time the sun sets."
He knew it was strange for someone to cast aside an asset like a ship so carelessly, shrugging it away as if it were a broken plastic spoon that needed to be thrown in the bin. Wolfe wouldn't have been so rash before meeting Vance. He had accepted his death mere minutes before, a ship was worth less. Wolfe stared at Vance for a long time, his gaze tired. "Do you have a plan? Revenge? A-......are you going to wipe out mankind?"

The last question came out slowly, reluctantly, the thought making Wolfe look older and more tired than he was. It would be a just thing to do. Humans had it long coming even before the Phaige war, but it didn't take empathetic abilities to see that Wolfe still had family out there.

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Character Portrait: Vance Hemolian Character Portrait: Morigan Wolfe
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The ship lifted off as soon as the hatch closed behind Wolfe. His questions seemed the type that should be easy to answer, yet Vance found himself trying to find the right words to answer them.
“Revenge? No. Up until today I would have said that revenge was all I wanted. I wanted to make the human race suffer as I had. But vengeance and justice aren’t the same thing. Is it fair to hold an entire species accountable for the actions of those in charge? Is it fair when nearly all of them, including yourself, were misinformed about our intentions? I can’t even bring myself to be angry at you. You were told we were hostile; you didn’t know it was just a ploy to get tridaxium.” He paused and looked at Wolfe and felt the waves of sadness, guilt and anxiety ripple through the cockpit. Though it wasn’t a custom on Phaigea, he awkwardly put a hand on Wolfe’s shoulder in an attempt to bring comfort. “I …forgive you.” He choked out. “As for a plan, well, I intend to talk to these three aliens at the orbital to see what kind of information they have. After that, I plan to go back to my parents’ lab in the mining camp and retrieve a copy of the last human mass communication with the planet. Then we’ll follow any possible leads these three have given us, as well as your own leads and present this information to the Galactic Council and, with any luck, after seeing that they’ve committed genocide, the rest of the council will impeach the prime minister and he and the rest of the humans responsible will be put on trial for their crimes.” Vance turned and looked out the window to see that the ship had already arrived at the orbital. “Well, looks like we’re here, let’s see what kind of information these guys have on the humans and the genocide of my people.”
The ship parked next to the café and the hatch opened. Vance walked to the bottom step and took a look at the old market place. The environment simulated the desert on the planet below and it looked like the old desert bazaars from Earth’s past. He looked around the ship park to see if the others had landed yet, but he didn’t see their ships yet.

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