Post by Otterling on Dec 13, 2009 2:13:51 GMT -5
Password: ysalimir
Character permission Rugs
Name: Kabira Wakana
Race: Human
Age: 18
Height: 5’2
Weight: 128 lbs
Appearance:
Kabira is short and lithe. She’s spent the vast majority of her life doing physical labor of various sorts and it shows. Her small frame is packed with lean muscle and a farmer’s tan can be clearly seen on her arms and legs. Her hair is short, unruly, bleached blonde, and usually looks like it’s been caught in a wind storm. Her eyes are a dark grey-blue and while she never wears any sort of make-up, her lashes are naturally very long. With her heart-shaped face and petite form, she would be a very beautiful young woman if only someone who didn’t value their life would convince her to put on a dress.
She isn’t buxom by any means and can easily be mistaken for a boy at first glance when seen from a distance in her work gear. She wears a set of too large overalls that belong to her father and are stained with years of oil and grease. She has to roll them up at the ankles to keep from tripping on them. Under this, she wears a thin grey cotton t-shirt. She often keeps her hair hidden under a simple cap with her father’s company logo on it or tucked under a bandana and she wears a set of heavy brown work boots under her overalls. She is usually dotted with scrapes, cuts, and bruises from the hard work she does with motors and engines. A heavy blaster is usually strapped to her hip. Kabira does not have any tattoos save for the DLA one issued to all members. This is located across the side of her ribcage.
She is NEVER in a dress or any clothing that might look “girlie”.
Birth place: Dantooine, Khoonda
Occupation: Mechanic
Rank: None
Bio:
Birth to age five:
Kabira was the only child born to Halit and Annalie Wakana. Halit was a mechanic in the Republic Army. A native of Dantooine, he had joined when he was very young and the military had become his entire life. On a visit back to his home world, he met and fell in love with a beautiful young woman named Annalie. For many years, they lived simple happy lives and though they spent a lot of time apart, Annalie kept the home fires burning and they corresponded often. After one trip home while on short leave, Halit received a call from his wife. She was pregnant. It was the most wonderful moment of Halit’s life. He had often dreamed of having a strong and healthy son that he could teach to hunt and who he could shepherd into being a man. Perhaps his son would even join the Army as well some day.
As the months passed, Halit could hardly wait to get home to his wife. The time was nearing for their child’s birth and he had already requested leave to be there. On a quiet summer evening, Annalie went into labor. Halit was a nervous wreck as he waited to hear the good news but the night turned bittersweet. Complications arose and Annalie began to bleed internally. The doctors rushed to save her but were forced to make the choice to save the child she was carrying. Annalie died that night but Halit was handed his new baby girl. It was not the son he had hoped for but Kabira was his last remaining link to his beloved Annalie and so he loved nothing more than his child.
Halit put in right away for a release from active duty, knowing he would be needed now to care for his only child and it was granted. He returned to Dantooine with his baby girl in his arms and immediately sought out work as a mechanic in the grassy Kylah plains. He was directed to the Sampson farm, a place owned by another former Army member named Erle Sampson IV. Believing that a fellow military member might have a place for him on his farm, Halit went there and made his plea for work.
He was hired on as a mechanic, fixing speeders and farm equipment with the knowledge he gained in the military and leading a quiet life in a small farmhouse on the outskirts of the Sampson Estate. He was a quiet and reserved man but he had a soft spot for the Sampson boys. He loved to watch them get into trouble and out again and as little Kabira grew, Halit made no attempts to raise her as a girl. He had never been around women enough to understand much about them and it seemed to do no harm to raise her as a boy.
As she grew and her thick light brown hair began to grow out, Halit found he had no idea most days what to do with it. Often Kabira would come in from playing with her hair in a tangle so thick it was impossible to fix. It was one such day as Halit stood in the largest of the Sampson barns working on a harvester that Kabira came to him. She had found a nearby mud hole and had discovered the joys of splashing in it. Her hair was a thick mat of tangles so unruly that Halit, frustrated and short on time, simply hefted a pair of animal shears and chopped off the offending mess. Kabira didn’t seem to mind in the least as this freed her considerably and from then on, Halit found it easier to just keep her hair as short as possible.
Kabira was a free spirit right from the start and was encouraged by her father to play the same games as she saw the boys playing. She found absolutely no use for dolls of any sort and her father so no use at all for putting dresses on her. He often asked politely at the Sampson household for any hand-me down clothes the boys had grown out of and Kabira fit them since she was so small. It became a common thing to see her tagging along behind her father barefoot with pants that were too big and a shirt that could have swallowed her. Some may have seen this as not properly taking care of the girl but Kabira was intensely loved by her father and she never had cause for complaint.
Halit, for his part, treated Kabira as his son and he taught her everything he could think of about engines. She would often sit on the edges of the vehicles hood while he worked and explained each step of what he was doing. As she got older, she was able to start helping by handing him tools and by five, she could easily tell you what a hydro-spanner was for and how you used it. As he continued to show Kabira diagrams on various engines, he discovered, much to his surprise, that his daughter appeared to have an idetic memory. She could remember everything she'd seen with a startling clarity and could recall where parts were located on maps she'd only veiwed once or twice. This skill soon made her quite the little helper when her father forgot his diagrams at home.
Age 6-12:
At age six, Halit sent his daughter off to the local school. While the Sampson boys had tutors available, he felt that his child could use the socialization of meeting other children outside the small circle there on the farm. She had been home taught up to that point and Kabira found she would miss the bustle and simple joys of the farm while she was in class. She didn’t make many friends at the school because of her baggy clothes and short hair and this lead to being teased quite a bit for the first two years. Kabira would go home from school unhappy but would hide this from her father. They weren’t wealthy people and she didn’t care what the other children thought, she LIKED the way she dressed. She had only once tried on an old dress Mr. Sampson had given her father, one that had belonged to the girl Mo, but she had discovered quickly that it got in the way of climbing trees and she got yelled at when it got dirty so it was quickly discarded.
By the time she was seven, Kabira had begun to notice a change in her father. He was slumped more than usual and he seemed to rub his hands a lot. Work had become harder for him and it was difficult for him to keep up with the demands of the farm but pride would not let him slow down. Determined to help her father, Kabira began to take on a more active role at work. Every day after school, she would rush back to the farm and spend long hours of every evening helping her father put together old engine blocks and damaged assemblies. Halit, though he wouldn’t admit it, was relieved for the help. Kabira had learned well from him and though she sometimes needed help getting heavy parts into place, her tiny hands made quick work of screws and bolts and allowed her to gain access to tight areas that normally would have taken hours to reach.
When Kabira turned eight, her father surprised her on her birthday by giving her an old blaster he’d picked up and repaired. Kabira had spent many a night sitting in his lap and watching him clean his own old Republic issue model. He'd spent countless hours explaining them to her and she had always seemed fascinated by his. He knew that perhaps Kabira was a little young to have such a thing but she was his only child and he had so few chances to really spoil her.
For safety's sake, Halit made sure that the weapon was kept locked away when he wasn't home until he was certain Kabira could handle it properly by herself. Kabira, though, didn't care. To her, this was a gift better than gold and she spent many long hours in the back yard shooting crumpled cans and pieces of wood whenever her father would let her. The weapon was too large for her hands and often she managed to hit nothing more than the dirt in the distant fields but still she found the exercise to be almost as much fun as the satisfaction she got from an engine’s purr. Halit would join her and they would talk about the military and some of the equipment Halit had used and repaired there while they picked off small targets.
At nine years old, Kabira was removed from her school. She had begun to get into fights with the boys there when her temper over being teased had boiled over. She had come to hate the children from the other local farms, favoring the quiet family atmosphere of the Sampson farm. While she was years younger than most of the kids there and therefore didn’t play with them as much, she still felt more at home around them then she did around anyone else. At least the Sampson boys and the children of the other workers all understood her more. By that point, Kabira had also taken a particular liking to Mo. She thought the young Mirialan was beautiful in a way she had never felt herself while still retaining the strength she admired in the boys. Kabira never found the willingness to go try and make friends with the other girl despite her father’s encouragement. Mo was friends with Erle, Lily, and Al and the small clique of close knit companions was something Kabira wasn’t quite sure where she would fit into. That, and her father’s chronic pain meant he needed her more and more to help with his work load.
Since his daughter had shown a penchant for fighting at school, Halit was forced to deal with this in the only way he could think of…he taught his daughter how to fight properly. He sparred and wrestled with the girl and taught her how to use her small stature and speed to use an opponent’s weight against them.
This didn’t please the other farm hands as much since Kabira then sought to practice more by rough-housing with any boy who would hold still long enough. She would often come home with black eyes and bloodied lips, pleased as punch. She scrapped quite often from then on, gaining a reputation among the children as someone who could hold their own though she still never stood a chance against the older boys. She developed what her father jokingly referred to as “small man syndrome” where she refused to back down even when out-matched and would pick fights just to see if she could win.
Halit had finally broken down and swallowed his pride enough to ask Erle if Kabira could be tutored along with his children and was relieved when told yes. Kabira was infinitely happier learning on the farm and it meant she was never far from her father when he needed her. Time passed happily for the pair and by the time she was twelve, Kabira was already capable of fixing an engine all by herself.
Ages 13 – 17:
As Kabira got older she started to notice something that bothered her a lot. She often found herself blushing infuriatingly and stumbling over her words whenever Allistair Sampson would come into the garage. The boy was a whiz with tools as much as Kabira was though he was two years older than her. She had never had such problems before and became convinced for a while that she must be sick. Her knees would tremble and her heart would speed up, not to mention her hands would get all sweaty on her tools. She found herself avoiding the boy more as she grew, uncertain what to think of the whole mess or why his hair was so terribly fascinating when he got grease in it and when she did find herself in his presence she resorted to grunting noncommittally to any conversation and burying her head in an engine that needed to be fixed.
Her father had burst into laughter when she’d finally told him what she’d been feeling and this resulted in her chucking a book at his head. When Halit finally explained that Kabira had a crush on Al, she asked him for advice on how to cure it. She had no such time for silly things like that, there was work to be done. Her father said she should just tell Al and get it over with but that was out of the question so instead he told her to handle it like a boy. Well, Kabira had seen how boys in the public school treated girls they liked. They usually put gum in their hair or teased them and then ran away. And so, the very next day, Kabira tried to show Al her feelings…by punching him. Dejected and a little confused, she limped home after that fight uncertain of where she had gone wrong but positive that she was in love after he threw that beautiful left hook.
Halit tried to keep his daughter’s mind off it all by taking her on hunting trips and upping their sparring practice. Still, she found herself sneaking out sometimes at night to silently watch Al, Erle and Dutch practicing fighting. She mimicked as much as she could remember and made up the rest with what her father taught her but she kept these night excursions to herself.
With time wearing on, Halit became more and more pained. He found that his hands were having a hard time holding tools any longer and Kabira began to take on more of his work. The pair kept this as quiet as possible to spare Halit’s wounded pride but it was eventually noticed by Lars, the chief technician. Kabira begged the man not to let her father go as they needed the money and together they could still complete all the tasks given to them and Lars agreed. He had seen Kabira’s skill with mechanics and found himself duly impressed. The girl had a great deal of skill and was a marvel with a tool kit, repairing and re-building broken things around the shop with alarming speed.
After that, Lars began to take Kabira under his belt. He kept the whole deal secret at Halit’s request but told the older man that at some point, Mr. Sampson would need to know. Kabira worked as hard as she could under Lars and he found himself impressed at the plethora of knowledge she had obtained over her short life. While she wasn’t overly educated, she could spout off the make, model, and number of almost every part and vehicle they owned on top of a slew of others. She was particularly fond of heavy machinery, the bigger the better, and would toil for hours to get just the right balance on a harvester’s turbines.
Lars also had another pupil however, that made things paticularly difficult for the young girl. Al Sampson was a whiz with machinery himself and he too worked under the tuteledge of the older head mechanic, both to Kabira's joy and dismay. Even though she understood the source of her feelings around him now, she still couldn't find the ability to put the young man out of her mind and concentrate on work. Whenever the boy came too close, Kabira found that, much to her annoyance, her ability to keep her tools from shaking or her mind from wandering seemed to dissolve. In a matter of moments he could reduce her from a competant mechanic to a gibbering teenager and while part of her resented this, the other part was too busy wondering if he always smelled like grease and how wonderful that would be. Lars had noticed this after a while and despite the fact that he thought the pairing would be adorable, he also could see that Al was rendering his other mechanic nearly useless when he was too close. The older man tried from then on to get the two of them working on opposite sides of the garage though he urged Kabira more than once to just tell Al how she felt.
These years of work under Lars were some of Kabira’s happiest despite her awkwardness around Al and while she would vehemently deny it if asked, inside, she looked forward to seeing the young man every day. Her father had finally gone to a doctor to be diagnosed and they had told him he had a degenerative disease of the joints but that it could be fixed with proper medication. Kabira put in extra work at any farm that would have her and they managed to afford the medicines to make her father’s life better. Things were looking up for both of them and soon, Kabira planned to get a job on one of the neighboring farms as a head mechanic there. She knew without a doubt that Al would become the head mechanic on the Sampson farm and thus it would be best to try looking to one of the neighbors if she wanted to further her standing.
17- Present:
The seventeenth year of Kabira’s life turned out to be the one that would change everything. She had gotten a job at a neighbor’s farm, fixing everything and anything mechanical that would hold still long enough and her father had begun to handle his own workload over at the Sampson farm with far less pain.
Then the Sith attacked. Kabira had never thought much about the troubles of the world beyond her own until it all spilled out of the sky like a blot of ink on her life. Rumors spread quickly of the attacks on the larger cities and the encroaching enemy forces that had begun their attacks on the outlying lands. Kabira tried to convince her father to flee but he refused to budge, stating that a man may die one death on his feet or a thousand on his knees. The young woman did all she could to prepare for the Sith’s arrival but on the day it actually happened, she was at the neighboring farm. She had been fixing one last transport that would ensure the family could evacuate when she heard the thunderous boom. She had raced outside to see a thick plume of smoke in the distance and the Sith bombers diving across the sky. Without a second thought, she raced on foot down the road toward their tiny house on the edge of the Sampson property. When she arrived, it was empty.
Kabira made her way through the smoke and debris to find the remnants of what had once been a stately and beautiful house. The barns and sheds had all been leveled and there was no one in sight. She had searched the charred ruins, scorching her hands and screaming for her father until she found his mangled hand reaching up from the pile. His ring was the only thing she could use to identify him. Heartsick and despondent, Kabira did the only thing she could think of, she ran. She headed back to the farm she had come from to find that it too was now a smoldering hole in the ground. Separated and frightened, Kabira made for the thick tall grasses of the plains and began to move toward the winding trails of the mountains in the distance.
For the next few months, Kabira stayed with a small group of stragglers who had survived the initial attack. She remained sullen and heartbroken but did her best to help out when her skills would come in handy. The heavy blaster at her side was the only thing she still had that actually belonged to her anymore and she used it to hunt with the group. One day, a young scout came back with news that another group of survivors had banded together to fight back against the Sith, headed by the Sampson family. The name struck a chord with young Kabira and for the first time since the attack, her eyes sparked with something deeper. The Sampsons were the only people she had left now. She and a few others with the bravery to join the fighting headed out to follow their scout and find the Liberation Army.
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 5
Intelligence:6
Speed:5
Leadership:3
Unarmed: 6
Melee Weapons: 1
Ranged Weapons: 5
Alignment: 3
RP Sample:
There it was again, that dag-blasted rattle. Kabira revved the engine again and listened intently to the hum. She could tell right away that there was a leak in the fuel line by the way the engine sputtered lightly as air became trapped in the injection but there was a slight rattle on top of it that had her more concerned at the moment. She could fix a fuel line in a few minutes flat, a rattle could mean any NUMBER of issues. She hopped out of the cab of the thresher and walked back around to the engine again. The massive block purred and grumbled at her like a large angry dog but she concentrated solely on that elusive clink she knew would pop up again at any moment.
There. Kabira followed the sound to something in the carburetor. She turned the engine off and reached past the cooling block, careful to avoid touching the engine itself as it pinged and whined, the metal having heated quickly in the afternoon sun. Grease was smeared from one end of her face to the other and her hair poked out in strange directions from under the edges of her hat but she paid neither any heed. Her fingertips brushed the part she was looking for and she felt around for the latch. Finally she found it, moving by feel alone as her mind recalled all the diagrams she had memorized over the years. She slipped a tiny screwdriver into her other hand and stepped up onto the rear axel of the machine to get a better reach. Now with both hands fully engulfed in the engine, her cheek pressed to the cooling block and a lovely puddle of grease, and her rear sticking straight into the air, Kabira felt more at peace than she ever did anywhere else.
Machines made sense unlike boys. Boys were…difficult. She couldn’t just tighten their bolts when they started to act funny. At least with a machine, she knew that problems always had a solution and that solution always made sense. As it always seemed to recently, her mind went back to Al Sampson. His charming grin popped up in her mind and Kabira resisted a sigh. The small screw she had been fiddling with slipped from her fingers as she thought too hard about how his skin looked in the afternoon sun and she cussed herself a fool as she pulled away from the engine. She dropped to her knees and scooted under the vehicle, her breath blowing away bits of dust as she hunted for the small missing piece she had lost.
“Dang you,” Kabira growled, “I’m gonna catch ever lovin’ heck if I don’t get you fixed by dinner time.” Finally picking the screw out of the dust and holding it in front of her eyes, Kabira scowled at it. “And dang you, Al. Stay outta my head.”
Character permission Rugs
Name: Kabira Wakana
Race: Human
Age: 18
Height: 5’2
Weight: 128 lbs
Appearance:
Kabira is short and lithe. She’s spent the vast majority of her life doing physical labor of various sorts and it shows. Her small frame is packed with lean muscle and a farmer’s tan can be clearly seen on her arms and legs. Her hair is short, unruly, bleached blonde, and usually looks like it’s been caught in a wind storm. Her eyes are a dark grey-blue and while she never wears any sort of make-up, her lashes are naturally very long. With her heart-shaped face and petite form, she would be a very beautiful young woman if only someone who didn’t value their life would convince her to put on a dress.
She isn’t buxom by any means and can easily be mistaken for a boy at first glance when seen from a distance in her work gear. She wears a set of too large overalls that belong to her father and are stained with years of oil and grease. She has to roll them up at the ankles to keep from tripping on them. Under this, she wears a thin grey cotton t-shirt. She often keeps her hair hidden under a simple cap with her father’s company logo on it or tucked under a bandana and she wears a set of heavy brown work boots under her overalls. She is usually dotted with scrapes, cuts, and bruises from the hard work she does with motors and engines. A heavy blaster is usually strapped to her hip. Kabira does not have any tattoos save for the DLA one issued to all members. This is located across the side of her ribcage.
She is NEVER in a dress or any clothing that might look “girlie”.
Birth place: Dantooine, Khoonda
Occupation: Mechanic
Rank: None
Bio:
Birth to age five:
Kabira was the only child born to Halit and Annalie Wakana. Halit was a mechanic in the Republic Army. A native of Dantooine, he had joined when he was very young and the military had become his entire life. On a visit back to his home world, he met and fell in love with a beautiful young woman named Annalie. For many years, they lived simple happy lives and though they spent a lot of time apart, Annalie kept the home fires burning and they corresponded often. After one trip home while on short leave, Halit received a call from his wife. She was pregnant. It was the most wonderful moment of Halit’s life. He had often dreamed of having a strong and healthy son that he could teach to hunt and who he could shepherd into being a man. Perhaps his son would even join the Army as well some day.
As the months passed, Halit could hardly wait to get home to his wife. The time was nearing for their child’s birth and he had already requested leave to be there. On a quiet summer evening, Annalie went into labor. Halit was a nervous wreck as he waited to hear the good news but the night turned bittersweet. Complications arose and Annalie began to bleed internally. The doctors rushed to save her but were forced to make the choice to save the child she was carrying. Annalie died that night but Halit was handed his new baby girl. It was not the son he had hoped for but Kabira was his last remaining link to his beloved Annalie and so he loved nothing more than his child.
Halit put in right away for a release from active duty, knowing he would be needed now to care for his only child and it was granted. He returned to Dantooine with his baby girl in his arms and immediately sought out work as a mechanic in the grassy Kylah plains. He was directed to the Sampson farm, a place owned by another former Army member named Erle Sampson IV. Believing that a fellow military member might have a place for him on his farm, Halit went there and made his plea for work.
He was hired on as a mechanic, fixing speeders and farm equipment with the knowledge he gained in the military and leading a quiet life in a small farmhouse on the outskirts of the Sampson Estate. He was a quiet and reserved man but he had a soft spot for the Sampson boys. He loved to watch them get into trouble and out again and as little Kabira grew, Halit made no attempts to raise her as a girl. He had never been around women enough to understand much about them and it seemed to do no harm to raise her as a boy.
As she grew and her thick light brown hair began to grow out, Halit found he had no idea most days what to do with it. Often Kabira would come in from playing with her hair in a tangle so thick it was impossible to fix. It was one such day as Halit stood in the largest of the Sampson barns working on a harvester that Kabira came to him. She had found a nearby mud hole and had discovered the joys of splashing in it. Her hair was a thick mat of tangles so unruly that Halit, frustrated and short on time, simply hefted a pair of animal shears and chopped off the offending mess. Kabira didn’t seem to mind in the least as this freed her considerably and from then on, Halit found it easier to just keep her hair as short as possible.
Kabira was a free spirit right from the start and was encouraged by her father to play the same games as she saw the boys playing. She found absolutely no use for dolls of any sort and her father so no use at all for putting dresses on her. He often asked politely at the Sampson household for any hand-me down clothes the boys had grown out of and Kabira fit them since she was so small. It became a common thing to see her tagging along behind her father barefoot with pants that were too big and a shirt that could have swallowed her. Some may have seen this as not properly taking care of the girl but Kabira was intensely loved by her father and she never had cause for complaint.
Halit, for his part, treated Kabira as his son and he taught her everything he could think of about engines. She would often sit on the edges of the vehicles hood while he worked and explained each step of what he was doing. As she got older, she was able to start helping by handing him tools and by five, she could easily tell you what a hydro-spanner was for and how you used it. As he continued to show Kabira diagrams on various engines, he discovered, much to his surprise, that his daughter appeared to have an idetic memory. She could remember everything she'd seen with a startling clarity and could recall where parts were located on maps she'd only veiwed once or twice. This skill soon made her quite the little helper when her father forgot his diagrams at home.
Age 6-12:
At age six, Halit sent his daughter off to the local school. While the Sampson boys had tutors available, he felt that his child could use the socialization of meeting other children outside the small circle there on the farm. She had been home taught up to that point and Kabira found she would miss the bustle and simple joys of the farm while she was in class. She didn’t make many friends at the school because of her baggy clothes and short hair and this lead to being teased quite a bit for the first two years. Kabira would go home from school unhappy but would hide this from her father. They weren’t wealthy people and she didn’t care what the other children thought, she LIKED the way she dressed. She had only once tried on an old dress Mr. Sampson had given her father, one that had belonged to the girl Mo, but she had discovered quickly that it got in the way of climbing trees and she got yelled at when it got dirty so it was quickly discarded.
By the time she was seven, Kabira had begun to notice a change in her father. He was slumped more than usual and he seemed to rub his hands a lot. Work had become harder for him and it was difficult for him to keep up with the demands of the farm but pride would not let him slow down. Determined to help her father, Kabira began to take on a more active role at work. Every day after school, she would rush back to the farm and spend long hours of every evening helping her father put together old engine blocks and damaged assemblies. Halit, though he wouldn’t admit it, was relieved for the help. Kabira had learned well from him and though she sometimes needed help getting heavy parts into place, her tiny hands made quick work of screws and bolts and allowed her to gain access to tight areas that normally would have taken hours to reach.
When Kabira turned eight, her father surprised her on her birthday by giving her an old blaster he’d picked up and repaired. Kabira had spent many a night sitting in his lap and watching him clean his own old Republic issue model. He'd spent countless hours explaining them to her and she had always seemed fascinated by his. He knew that perhaps Kabira was a little young to have such a thing but she was his only child and he had so few chances to really spoil her.
For safety's sake, Halit made sure that the weapon was kept locked away when he wasn't home until he was certain Kabira could handle it properly by herself. Kabira, though, didn't care. To her, this was a gift better than gold and she spent many long hours in the back yard shooting crumpled cans and pieces of wood whenever her father would let her. The weapon was too large for her hands and often she managed to hit nothing more than the dirt in the distant fields but still she found the exercise to be almost as much fun as the satisfaction she got from an engine’s purr. Halit would join her and they would talk about the military and some of the equipment Halit had used and repaired there while they picked off small targets.
At nine years old, Kabira was removed from her school. She had begun to get into fights with the boys there when her temper over being teased had boiled over. She had come to hate the children from the other local farms, favoring the quiet family atmosphere of the Sampson farm. While she was years younger than most of the kids there and therefore didn’t play with them as much, she still felt more at home around them then she did around anyone else. At least the Sampson boys and the children of the other workers all understood her more. By that point, Kabira had also taken a particular liking to Mo. She thought the young Mirialan was beautiful in a way she had never felt herself while still retaining the strength she admired in the boys. Kabira never found the willingness to go try and make friends with the other girl despite her father’s encouragement. Mo was friends with Erle, Lily, and Al and the small clique of close knit companions was something Kabira wasn’t quite sure where she would fit into. That, and her father’s chronic pain meant he needed her more and more to help with his work load.
Since his daughter had shown a penchant for fighting at school, Halit was forced to deal with this in the only way he could think of…he taught his daughter how to fight properly. He sparred and wrestled with the girl and taught her how to use her small stature and speed to use an opponent’s weight against them.
This didn’t please the other farm hands as much since Kabira then sought to practice more by rough-housing with any boy who would hold still long enough. She would often come home with black eyes and bloodied lips, pleased as punch. She scrapped quite often from then on, gaining a reputation among the children as someone who could hold their own though she still never stood a chance against the older boys. She developed what her father jokingly referred to as “small man syndrome” where she refused to back down even when out-matched and would pick fights just to see if she could win.
Halit had finally broken down and swallowed his pride enough to ask Erle if Kabira could be tutored along with his children and was relieved when told yes. Kabira was infinitely happier learning on the farm and it meant she was never far from her father when he needed her. Time passed happily for the pair and by the time she was twelve, Kabira was already capable of fixing an engine all by herself.
Ages 13 – 17:
As Kabira got older she started to notice something that bothered her a lot. She often found herself blushing infuriatingly and stumbling over her words whenever Allistair Sampson would come into the garage. The boy was a whiz with tools as much as Kabira was though he was two years older than her. She had never had such problems before and became convinced for a while that she must be sick. Her knees would tremble and her heart would speed up, not to mention her hands would get all sweaty on her tools. She found herself avoiding the boy more as she grew, uncertain what to think of the whole mess or why his hair was so terribly fascinating when he got grease in it and when she did find herself in his presence she resorted to grunting noncommittally to any conversation and burying her head in an engine that needed to be fixed.
Her father had burst into laughter when she’d finally told him what she’d been feeling and this resulted in her chucking a book at his head. When Halit finally explained that Kabira had a crush on Al, she asked him for advice on how to cure it. She had no such time for silly things like that, there was work to be done. Her father said she should just tell Al and get it over with but that was out of the question so instead he told her to handle it like a boy. Well, Kabira had seen how boys in the public school treated girls they liked. They usually put gum in their hair or teased them and then ran away. And so, the very next day, Kabira tried to show Al her feelings…by punching him. Dejected and a little confused, she limped home after that fight uncertain of where she had gone wrong but positive that she was in love after he threw that beautiful left hook.
Halit tried to keep his daughter’s mind off it all by taking her on hunting trips and upping their sparring practice. Still, she found herself sneaking out sometimes at night to silently watch Al, Erle and Dutch practicing fighting. She mimicked as much as she could remember and made up the rest with what her father taught her but she kept these night excursions to herself.
With time wearing on, Halit became more and more pained. He found that his hands were having a hard time holding tools any longer and Kabira began to take on more of his work. The pair kept this as quiet as possible to spare Halit’s wounded pride but it was eventually noticed by Lars, the chief technician. Kabira begged the man not to let her father go as they needed the money and together they could still complete all the tasks given to them and Lars agreed. He had seen Kabira’s skill with mechanics and found himself duly impressed. The girl had a great deal of skill and was a marvel with a tool kit, repairing and re-building broken things around the shop with alarming speed.
After that, Lars began to take Kabira under his belt. He kept the whole deal secret at Halit’s request but told the older man that at some point, Mr. Sampson would need to know. Kabira worked as hard as she could under Lars and he found himself impressed at the plethora of knowledge she had obtained over her short life. While she wasn’t overly educated, she could spout off the make, model, and number of almost every part and vehicle they owned on top of a slew of others. She was particularly fond of heavy machinery, the bigger the better, and would toil for hours to get just the right balance on a harvester’s turbines.
Lars also had another pupil however, that made things paticularly difficult for the young girl. Al Sampson was a whiz with machinery himself and he too worked under the tuteledge of the older head mechanic, both to Kabira's joy and dismay. Even though she understood the source of her feelings around him now, she still couldn't find the ability to put the young man out of her mind and concentrate on work. Whenever the boy came too close, Kabira found that, much to her annoyance, her ability to keep her tools from shaking or her mind from wandering seemed to dissolve. In a matter of moments he could reduce her from a competant mechanic to a gibbering teenager and while part of her resented this, the other part was too busy wondering if he always smelled like grease and how wonderful that would be. Lars had noticed this after a while and despite the fact that he thought the pairing would be adorable, he also could see that Al was rendering his other mechanic nearly useless when he was too close. The older man tried from then on to get the two of them working on opposite sides of the garage though he urged Kabira more than once to just tell Al how she felt.
These years of work under Lars were some of Kabira’s happiest despite her awkwardness around Al and while she would vehemently deny it if asked, inside, she looked forward to seeing the young man every day. Her father had finally gone to a doctor to be diagnosed and they had told him he had a degenerative disease of the joints but that it could be fixed with proper medication. Kabira put in extra work at any farm that would have her and they managed to afford the medicines to make her father’s life better. Things were looking up for both of them and soon, Kabira planned to get a job on one of the neighboring farms as a head mechanic there. She knew without a doubt that Al would become the head mechanic on the Sampson farm and thus it would be best to try looking to one of the neighbors if she wanted to further her standing.
17- Present:
The seventeenth year of Kabira’s life turned out to be the one that would change everything. She had gotten a job at a neighbor’s farm, fixing everything and anything mechanical that would hold still long enough and her father had begun to handle his own workload over at the Sampson farm with far less pain.
Then the Sith attacked. Kabira had never thought much about the troubles of the world beyond her own until it all spilled out of the sky like a blot of ink on her life. Rumors spread quickly of the attacks on the larger cities and the encroaching enemy forces that had begun their attacks on the outlying lands. Kabira tried to convince her father to flee but he refused to budge, stating that a man may die one death on his feet or a thousand on his knees. The young woman did all she could to prepare for the Sith’s arrival but on the day it actually happened, she was at the neighboring farm. She had been fixing one last transport that would ensure the family could evacuate when she heard the thunderous boom. She had raced outside to see a thick plume of smoke in the distance and the Sith bombers diving across the sky. Without a second thought, she raced on foot down the road toward their tiny house on the edge of the Sampson property. When she arrived, it was empty.
Kabira made her way through the smoke and debris to find the remnants of what had once been a stately and beautiful house. The barns and sheds had all been leveled and there was no one in sight. She had searched the charred ruins, scorching her hands and screaming for her father until she found his mangled hand reaching up from the pile. His ring was the only thing she could use to identify him. Heartsick and despondent, Kabira did the only thing she could think of, she ran. She headed back to the farm she had come from to find that it too was now a smoldering hole in the ground. Separated and frightened, Kabira made for the thick tall grasses of the plains and began to move toward the winding trails of the mountains in the distance.
For the next few months, Kabira stayed with a small group of stragglers who had survived the initial attack. She remained sullen and heartbroken but did her best to help out when her skills would come in handy. The heavy blaster at her side was the only thing she still had that actually belonged to her anymore and she used it to hunt with the group. One day, a young scout came back with news that another group of survivors had banded together to fight back against the Sith, headed by the Sampson family. The name struck a chord with young Kabira and for the first time since the attack, her eyes sparked with something deeper. The Sampsons were the only people she had left now. She and a few others with the bravery to join the fighting headed out to follow their scout and find the Liberation Army.
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 5
Intelligence:6
Speed:5
Leadership:3
Unarmed: 6
Melee Weapons: 1
Ranged Weapons: 5
Alignment: 3
RP Sample:
There it was again, that dag-blasted rattle. Kabira revved the engine again and listened intently to the hum. She could tell right away that there was a leak in the fuel line by the way the engine sputtered lightly as air became trapped in the injection but there was a slight rattle on top of it that had her more concerned at the moment. She could fix a fuel line in a few minutes flat, a rattle could mean any NUMBER of issues. She hopped out of the cab of the thresher and walked back around to the engine again. The massive block purred and grumbled at her like a large angry dog but she concentrated solely on that elusive clink she knew would pop up again at any moment.
There. Kabira followed the sound to something in the carburetor. She turned the engine off and reached past the cooling block, careful to avoid touching the engine itself as it pinged and whined, the metal having heated quickly in the afternoon sun. Grease was smeared from one end of her face to the other and her hair poked out in strange directions from under the edges of her hat but she paid neither any heed. Her fingertips brushed the part she was looking for and she felt around for the latch. Finally she found it, moving by feel alone as her mind recalled all the diagrams she had memorized over the years. She slipped a tiny screwdriver into her other hand and stepped up onto the rear axel of the machine to get a better reach. Now with both hands fully engulfed in the engine, her cheek pressed to the cooling block and a lovely puddle of grease, and her rear sticking straight into the air, Kabira felt more at peace than she ever did anywhere else.
Machines made sense unlike boys. Boys were…difficult. She couldn’t just tighten their bolts when they started to act funny. At least with a machine, she knew that problems always had a solution and that solution always made sense. As it always seemed to recently, her mind went back to Al Sampson. His charming grin popped up in her mind and Kabira resisted a sigh. The small screw she had been fiddling with slipped from her fingers as she thought too hard about how his skin looked in the afternoon sun and she cussed herself a fool as she pulled away from the engine. She dropped to her knees and scooted under the vehicle, her breath blowing away bits of dust as she hunted for the small missing piece she had lost.
“Dang you,” Kabira growled, “I’m gonna catch ever lovin’ heck if I don’t get you fixed by dinner time.” Finally picking the screw out of the dust and holding it in front of her eyes, Kabira scowled at it. “And dang you, Al. Stay outta my head.”
