Special Operations Directorate Official Profile
Core Profile
Species: Drell
Gender: Female
Height: 5'3"
Age: 27 ESY
Skin Hue/Racial Morph: Red/Gold
Hair Color: N/A
Eye Color: Black sclera; faintly blue irises
Class: Infiltrator
Known Equipment & Gear
L338 "Lance"
Intended for relatively close (by sniper standards) engagements, the L338 Lance marksman's rifle is a semi-automatic precision rifle firing 8.53x62mm precision-tooled projectiles from a 10-round detachable magazine. A favorite of special forces and infantry marksmen alike, the Lance's large projectiles exhibit excellent subsonic performance as well as supersonic, allowing the velocity of the weapon to be adjusted in the field to permit silent shooting. While it is not as powerful or as accurate at long range as other, larger sniper's weapons, its light weight and handy size when fitted with a folding stock, combined with silent shooting capability make it exceptionally popular in situations where extreme range and tack-driving accuracy are less of a concern.
L2311 "Stalwart"
A tough, powerful and reliable sidearm, the Stalwart pistol is the weapon of choice for Union Officers, machine-gunners, biotics and snipers who need a dependable backup weapon. Firing 10x35mm ferrous slugs from a 18-round magazine, the Stalwart may not have the most powerful shots, or the largest magazine, but it strikes a compromise between the extremes which has made it extremely popular. With an enlarged, single-finger trigger guard and its magazine stored in the grip, the Stalwart, while by no means a small pistol, is far more compact than the previous generation of weapons, while still maintaining the edge in both power and magazine capacity.
Stealth Generator
Akaya aquired this experimental stealth device in Omega's black market, through a lot of blood, sweat and credits. With a few minor adjustments, it's become a staple of her equipment repertoire. Using active camouflage, the generator can mask its user for up to one minute per activation, with only minor 'recharge' times between sessions.
Modified Terminus Assault Armor
Tweaked to allow extra flexibility in the joint areas and integrated with her stealth net. Since her recruitment into SOD, she's taken it upon herself to repaint it with a slick new coat of — what else? — black.
Physical Profile
Akaya’s diminutive size and slight frame are clearly telling of her agility and deftness, or perhaps of mild malnourishment during her formative years. Her complexion spans a vivid panoply of reds and golds, interspersed in stark contrast by the black markings that arch above her brows, and that trace the lateral lines of her chest and back in bold stripes.
Innumerable faint scars draw fissures between her iridescent scales, each flaw etched enduringly both in body and memory. Most of these lie hidden beneath her apparel. Others are plainly exposed on her features, wordlessly indicative of a past fraught with strife. One especially notable mark runs jagged across her throat, a memento left by the edge of a blade.
The dark fathoms of her eyes are usually possessed of a certain sly gleam that betrays her iniquitous nature; her expression is generally one of distant apathy, with one side of her mouth occasionally quirking upward into a hubristic smirk. The voice that issues from said lips carries mild sardonic cadences identifiable in the customary drell rasp. Her movements are catlike: quick, fluid, silent, and always self-assured.
Akaya favors simple attire whenever possible, preferably dark in color. She has a particular affinity for hooded sweaters, of which she owns several.
Psychological Profile
Akaya's mannerisms are anomalous among drell, whose cultural proclivities tend to coincide with their hanar benefactors'. Indeed, one of the most succinct adjectives to describe her would be unconventional. Iconoclastic, impenitent, and illusory, Akaya is unabashedly renegade. Her allegiances lie foremost with herself and secondly with the highest bidder; her motivations center largely around what maximally benefits her prosperity, even at the expense of her compatriots. This cutthroat attitude, cultivated by just over a decade spent in some of the galaxy's most virulent locales, makes her a precarious ally at best.
She is capricious; compulsive; inclined toward spur-of-the-moment spontaneity, and has been known to deviate wildly from established plans and protocols for inscrutable reasons — yet her endeavors have solid rate of success, all the same. Akaya is impressively intelligent, with a marked talent for extemporization under intense pressure. She maintains a collected façade even in the face of abject defeat, and is disarmingly optimistic when confronted with life-threatening danger. Hers is a self-assurance born of a near-suicidal fearlessness and a firm belief that any situation can be weaseled out of.
While not necessarily talkative, Akaya often injects herself into social functions. She normally takes the role of the silent observer, hovering at the fringes of the conversation and occasionally throwing a word in when addressed or otherwise especially engaged by the subject of discussion. Her motive for attending these gatherings could be referred to as 'sinister' or just 'eccentric,' depending on who you ask: she's information-gathering. Her eidetic memory lends itself nicely to her field of work; Akaya's memories are just as immaculate and reliable as any digital archive. Everyone she's met — and their mannerisms, weaknesses and other caveats —become firmly entrenched in her psyche, to be dredged up and pored over at will.
Akaya has a certain fondness for getting under people's skin (or scales, where applicable). Those subject to her nefarious breed of attention might find personal items deliberately misplaced by just a couple of centimeters, or their extranet services inexplicably hacked, or their bank accounts mysteriously missing a couple of credits... among other things. Above all else, Akaya adores the intricate art of provocation, and derives a substantial amount of delight from seeing other people become gradually more frustrated at her hijinks. The same rings true in combative situations: angry opponents make mistakes — mistakes that she revels in exploiting.
The pressing need in her practice to be neither seen nor heard has created unshakable compulsions even outside the line of duty. Akaya favors low-light, low-traffic, quiet environments, and quickly becomes uncomfortable when forced to be the center of attention. She is paranoid about her privacy to a fault, and thus takes great pains to leave no record of her presence behind. She keeps no records, written or digital; she has as many pseudonyms as most people have socks; she flatly refuses to expound on her history if asked, or else lies outright. Akaya knows more than anyone how tenuous the path she walks truly is: the infiltrator can very easily become the infiltrated. Though she often prods and picks at others to uncover their vagaries, she is very adamant about keeping herself tightly sealed off.
Historical Profile
Akaya was born to a zealously subservient couple who were almost as devoted to the hanar as they were to spawning offspring. As former assassins themselves, they were adamant that each of their seven progeny (of whom Akaya was the fifth) follow precisely in their footsteps. Several years and one rigorous training regimen later, Akaya was turned loose as a machine of destruction, her childhood taken from her by a decision not even of her own making.
She was far from complacent in this — she resented what she'd been made into; resented the hanar; resented her own parents. She broke free of her Compact as soon as she was able and promptly tore her way across the galaxy to its filthiest den of sin and entropy, craving something to fill the emptiness in her spirit.
Omega was savage and turbulent, especially for a female barely on the cusp of adulthood. Akaya quickly became caught in its undertow, and emerged, like many others before her, a derelict. Cut off from her family, friendless and alone, she sought fleeting bursts of refuge among transient mercenary packs, whose constant squabblings served only to jade Akaya even further. It was on one incidence, as she watched a group who had fed and housed her for several months in exchange for her expertise be executed, one by one, by a rival gang leader, that something in her head clicked: she realized how vicious the universe truly was — and that the only way to survive it was to bite back.
Akaya found comfort in her identity as a destroyer, then. Whether it was eliminating data or eliminating lives, she embraced it whole-heartedly; savored it. It was the only thing that truly made her feel of worth. Her renown in certain circles grew to the extent that she no longer had to seek out contracts; instead, they came to her.
A few of those contracts placed her solidly on the Council's hit list, after it was leaked that she had been the one assassinating their informants. Akaya, of course, had been altogether unaware of this, her policy being one of 'less questions, more action.' Though the Council's reach didn't technically extend to Omega, that didn't stop them from making multiple attempts on her life. One narrow escape after another compelled her to take to the skies, fleeing for Unionist space in a desperate push for survival.
Prior to this incident, Akaya had deliberately refrained from taking sides on the delicate matter of the Council versus Everyone Else Shitfit-Extravaganza. It had never directly concerned her. Now, with the wrath of Citadel justice crashing down upon her, something new had been kindled, something that had broken through her stoicism and ignited a curious new emotion. She was furious.
Out of the throes of that fury loomed the SOD, with an offer that she was hard-pressed to refuse. They desired her skillset; she desired vengeance; it was a match made in heaven. Aboard the Freedom's Blade, she could put her years of meticulously honed talent to use — and get back at those who'd tried to take her out.
Misc. Notes
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