“I know, I’ve been there on mission when I was still flesh and blood. Strong ship culture with millions of mooring points at the top of hab-spires reaching from the ground into space. Good liquor too. Do you mind if I ask who they are for?”

He goes silent for a bit, looking at the candles, before replying, “My wife and two children. They’re gone now, but... well, as long as I remember them they will still live on inside me. That’s the meaning. As long as I’m around to light the candles for them they aren’t forgotten. We all die, it’s memory that lasts if you’re a good person. And they were. So very good, better than I deserved.”

You both sit silently for a time before you hold up your bottle, “To memories, then.”

Tynes looks up and smiles an easy smile, “To memories.”

A long pull and the two of you are talking again, chatting about the mishmash of daily events on the ship. Storage space, (he’s extremely glad you got rid of all that useless scrap) food supplies, (still another nine months worth) and general banalities like backed-up toilets or how bland the bean-paste is.

“So, how do you think things have gone so far? Your personal opinion, now, and speak freely. Repairs, aliens, scientists, whatever.”

He puts on a thoughtful face and takes another pull before answering, “Well, considering our supplies I think you’ve done a great job of getting us back in working order. From what we’ve seen so far I’m not sure we’ll ever be in top shape again, but even bringing us as far as you have -- and credit to Dai too for that -- is great. Glad we’re trying to find if there is any of the Empire left, too. The aliens?” he shrugs absently, “Well, what’s to do? We made out fine and they shouldn’t be a problem like we left them.”

“No opinion yea or nay on them?” you press.

He shakes his head, “Nah. Uh, sir. Never really give it much care. Rinn doesn’t like them much from his time fighting in... the Oan Rebellion, I think he said? Some rebellion when he was in the IA. But I don’t really care much either way. No sense using resources we need on them or going out of our way to hurt them if they aren’t doing something to us.”

“Fair enough. Glad we’re looking for the Empire, eh?”

“Yeah. Sir. Sorry.” He takes another small pull, “Well, been in the Armada most all of my life and it saved my ass. Owe it at least that much.”

“How did you come to the service, anyway?”

“Ahhhh. That.” He leans back on the sofa, stretching his arms and sinking into the cushions before replying, “Kind of a long story.”

“I’ve got nothing but time.”

A grin, “Yeah, that’s true. Well, I was a gutterrat. Grew up in the underground. Hath is pretty much hollow, you know? Filled with tunnels and everything is mined out all the way to the core. The rich live in the upper spires, the workers lower, and the scum and industry in the underground. Parents were poor druggies, still are... or were, whatever. Did whatever I could to get by, make some money on my own to do things for myself since they spent everything they got on Redeye then went to the Empire Uni-Food program to live. Pickpocketing, smash and grabs, stealing skycars, whatever.”

”Worked out until I was about twelve and I got too greedy. Was this really nice skycar -- little spaceships, really -- parked near one of my hangouts.” He sigs, shaking his head. “Twelve and stupid, I took the damn thing. Was flying it to a shop I knew when BAM! the thing cut out over a huge chasm and fell down into a commercial dome. Remote killswitch, I found out later. Broke my back in eight places, plus a lot of other stuff.”

“Ouch. And you survived?”

He takes another swig, “Pfah. Barely. Would have died too, didn’t have any money and nobody cares about gutter trash.” he smiles, “But oh man, I got lucky. My name is Robert Strak Tynes. The car I was driving just happened to belong to a Planetary Censor -- uh, those are like the Imperial Councilmen, Hath is ruled by a council -- and his name was Urin Tynes. And he had a son.”

“They thought you were his son?”

“Damn straight, thought I was nobility and everything after they checked my chit-tag. Got rushed to the best hospital on the planet and had a new cybernetic spine in under two hours. Everything was going great too... until the Censor showed up the next day thinking his son was in a crash. Turns out he had been visiting a mistress in the undercity when someone stole his skycar. Took him nearly twenty hours to get a discreet mode of transportation out and find out about the accident.”

“I don’t assume they let you just have the cybs out of the goodness of their heart?”

“Hah!” he scoffs, “No chance of that. Hath is built on trade and money. As soon as they were permitted by regulations they shipped me off to an Imperial education camp for orphans and stuck a debt on me that I figured would ride me forever. Unless...”

“Unless?” you prompt.

“Unless I joined the military.” He smiles, nodding over to you, “You should know, after all. They pay off all cybernetics and enhancements. Of course, once I was in I was in for life that way, but better than being in debt forever. And, well, it’s just what I needed. Structure, a purpose, role models. Head for money and what people would want from my days grifting got me noticed eventually too, then enrolled in the Academy. Been a serviceman ever since, re-signed when my debt was cleared and everything. What about you? Heard you were a star since day one in the Academy but, you know, earlier. Were you flying spaceships around even when you were a kid?”

>>15886302

No, though even as a little kid I dreamed of it. I grew up in a navy town, and there were always a paucity of spacers and ships around. Fertile stuff for a young person's imagination.

My father was never really a part of my life. My mother raised me as best she could; she worked in one of the munitions plants even before I was born.

When I turned 12 she had scraped together enough money for me to go on a trip with my class to the redwood forests. I spent a week completely cut off from contact with anyone but my teachers and classmates. No communications services out there.

When I came home I learned there had been an accident in the munitions plant. Mom didn't make it, along with a couple of hundred other people. I ended up a ward of the state. No other surviving family. My dad had apparently manged to drink himself to death a couple of years before. I don't think he would have wanted anything to do with me anyway.

I was a foster kid until 16, when I decided to chase my dream and enlist. I had to petition for early admission.

"To be honest not really. I grew up on an agri-world, near the space port so i always heard tales from pilots about flying ships but my mother never did have enough money, to give us all our own speeders.

"Nope. To be honest, I never even saw one before I was twenty. I grew up on a uh, I guess you could say rural planet. Agri works all over it. Most of the surface was covered in multi level farms and processors. We'd grow enough for ourselves and the rest would get picked up and spread to the nearby systems. I'd see the lights way up in the sky from the ships when they'd come in to land or were leaving, but I was never up close to one until the day I decided to enlist.

And honestly, tt wasn't like I was a natural or anything. Hell, who would be? All I had was that I knew I could do it. It just took hard work. Day, night, skipped meals. I either had my eyes glued to a datapad reading up on theory, or practicing in a simulator. I had to be good at it. I had to be the very best that I could be. There was nothing else for me.

It's who I had to be."

The Armada is the elite of the elite. Armada officers are the elite of the elite of the elite. Tynes served for over 50 years in various positions starting at "Plantary loading bay buttmonkey" in the Army and had to impress people before he was even considered for Armada Academy admission. And he was raised from 12 onwards in a military prep school for orphans.

Just eff why eye.

I'm still going with the background in Earth literature.
"Hah! Starships, speeders, hoverbikes: if it had an engine and it could fly, I'd get in it somehow and take it for a spin.
"Loved doing it, too, but it never struck me to go into the Armada. It was all a thrill, yes, but just a thrill.
"You want to know what I really went for? What I got my education in before joining up? Literature. Ancient Earth literature."

>>15886331
>>15886344
Both of these, along with having a fondness for Ancient Earth literature. Location, specifically: agri-world, near the space port, somewhere that saw a lot of navy traffic. Mother's back-story could be modified to another kind of accident.

"Ancient generals, commanders, heroes small and large..."

>>15886394
We are according to Imperial records like 500 something years old right?

>>15886437
Your age has never been stated, but you would be at the very least 250-300.

i was just a small town boy, born and raised on earth in a city called detroit. then i decided to leave that town and start anew. i left on the midnight train to the spaceport, to get off that godforsaken rock. i worked my ass off as a gro po, proved i had some measure of competence and got into the Armada academy. i never stopped believing in myself and my dream: to sail the stars with naught but the smooth hum of the reactor, and as many weapons you can fit on a boat.

>>15886444
Well then lets say our time in the Simulators was NOT wasted. And that we had a nice string of luck getting to this level at the end.

>>15886444
Don't you mean 64,250 - 64,300 years old?

>>15886460
I thought we got this job by being in that one Lady Admirals pants or something like that?

Oh god unfinished sentences.

>>15886394
Then the Picard story a la >>15886402 makes more sense then. However, were we to come from a wealthy background, we would have less reason to be picked up as an EI candidate, seeing as we would know people in positions of power or wealth.

If we're still going with the "from rags to riches" kind of story, we probably enlisted in the Navy initially, worked hard, preferring books to people, and eventually were recognized to be put in the Armada. Long years of work had left us with few friends, and relatives were mostly a non-issue by age 25.

>>15886478
no, she took us under her wing and helped us become the officer we are today

so yes.

>>15886495
I do recall something of the sort as well. That needs to be mentioned, that we were noticed by some high-profile commanders, and, with a string of luck and hard work here we are.

I still like the farm-boy story better than the picard one, but won't insist on it.

>>15886490
Nah we would just have to be wealthy but not SUPERRICH or part of a major family like parsons. Vedi said that politics played a role in selecting EI dudes too so as long as we knew the right people it would be cool.

>>15886490
Picard story could include some sort of "family business crashed and burned into the ground, 30 years later the fortune that landed me in the navy was gone, and my name was worthless."

>>15886548
Actually this is good too.

>>15886530
Let's go with this then.

Farm Boy.
Enlisted.
Standard navy marine training.
Did well, high performance, high testing scores.
Makes officer training program.
Does well, put aboard the Hydra.
And so on, over the course of about 120 years from when we joined to when we became a captain.

>>15886530
>>15886495
That was after you had already been stationed on the Armada flagship straight out of academy, though admittedly she probably handpicked you since you were first in your class. The fact your best friend and second in the class was also assigned to it likely turns that from a "probably" to a "almost assuredly" too.

I vote for the scion of a failed business family. It has the rags to riches but it also contains how we know how to operate at this level without bassackward farmboyishness.

Why are we copying Picard at all? Fuck that. We got a degree in Asskicking from Earth University.

More realistically our family could have stuck us in some sort of armada prep university or something considering how leet it seems to be. Lots of rich fuckers probably want their kids to become armada officers and stuff for the prestige and POWAH! and political connections.

>>15886623
Shit yeah.

Then once we're out of the academy, turns out dad had a thing for the ole' SUPER COCAINE, and ran his business into the ground.

Our parents were EI project researchers.

>>15886694
Then why would we join teh army? And if it was out of boredom how did we do THIS well?

>>15886714
By being that damn good.

Obviously when we were a teenager, we got the empire-wide high score on a video game secretly designed by the military to identify the best starfighters in the galaxy.

Well, now I'm not sure about this stuff.

Let's put this in greentext, since I can only communicate in greentext.
>Rich parents, but not like Parson
>Sent off to navy prep school for political connections for family
>Hard work and dedication
>Maybe a little bit of romanticism about being the first of a line of important people, or heroes like in the books and stories
>Parents involved in scandal
>Fortune evaporated, business crashed and burned
>Becoming pretty well-known in school
>Decide to be the best of the best of the best anyway, not for family reasons, but because it's what we had left, and we liked it

Man. Sugar rush is gone and I'm falling asleep, got up early this morning.

I'm going to copy/paste this greentext summary in the old thread then refresh it in the archive. No need to archive this one. I'll just do this and the arrival at the agri base all in one big update next VQ. Thursday at 18:00, I think.

I'm also going to try to run a Thurs/Fri/Sat series for consecutive threads, because you guys spent like a bazillion threads in that one system and why the hell not.

>>15886819
Second

>>15886894
Dammit vedibere, what the hell do you DO for a living? I can't imagine all this questing would be possible with a noraml 40 hour workweek.
Although if you were a professor or researcher somewhere, that'd be cool.