Post by Dutch on Dec 17, 2009 15:04:36 GMT -5
Faction: Mandalorian
Department: Special Operations
Rank: Specialist
Name: Z’oon “Z” Stafsha {Zee-oon Stayf-shay}
Race: Gar Naal
Age: 26
Height: 5’4”
Weight: 120
Appearance:
Physically, Z resembles any of his species, the antennae and unique facial structure that puts them apart from most sentients. His eyes are a bright orange, and his shell is mostly muddy black with pale yellow markings. On the left half of his head, a circle with a vertical line is etched into the shell- a marking from his former squad. Like all Al’Harnas, the tips of his four antennae have little silver plugs connected to him, and the back of his skull has a similar colored outlet.
Like most of his species, Z doesn’t see the need for clothing for cosmetic purposes, but if he gets cold, he wouldn’t turn down a blanket or anything. On his right hip he wears the holster for his weapon of choice- a Roer(Gar Naal spear gun). The only piece of “clothing” that is usually seen on him is a tool belt when he is working on Vuist- his Harnas. As an Al’Harnas, Z moves in very steady, purposed movements, looking very fluid for a creature of his build.
Usually a calmer person, the only time he’ll be seen acting unintelligent or flustered is when he senses sweet food- his weakness. Especially sticky buns. For his species, he speaks very smoothly, an attractive trait for the Gar Naal. When angered- which is very rare- outside of Vuist he isn't much of a threat due to his size, but when piloting Vuist Z becomes an extreme force to reckon with. When “joined” with Vuist, the voice that comes from Vuist is scrapping and metallic, but deep.
Birth place:Luch’zoen Naarhuis
Skills:
Harnas Pilot
Gar Naal CQC Combat
Repair
Slicing
Equipment:
Vuist
Roer
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 4
Intelligence: 9
Speed: 6
Leadership: 6
Unarmed: 5
Melee Weapons: 2
Ranged Weapons: 8
Alignment: +4
Bio:
Department: Special Operations
Rank: Specialist
Name: Z’oon “Z” Stafsha {Zee-oon Stayf-shay}
Race: Gar Naal
Age: 26
Height: 5’4”
Weight: 120
Appearance:
Physically, Z resembles any of his species, the antennae and unique facial structure that puts them apart from most sentients. His eyes are a bright orange, and his shell is mostly muddy black with pale yellow markings. On the left half of his head, a circle with a vertical line is etched into the shell- a marking from his former squad. Like all Al’Harnas, the tips of his four antennae have little silver plugs connected to him, and the back of his skull has a similar colored outlet.
Like most of his species, Z doesn’t see the need for clothing for cosmetic purposes, but if he gets cold, he wouldn’t turn down a blanket or anything. On his right hip he wears the holster for his weapon of choice- a Roer(Gar Naal spear gun). The only piece of “clothing” that is usually seen on him is a tool belt when he is working on Vuist- his Harnas. As an Al’Harnas, Z moves in very steady, purposed movements, looking very fluid for a creature of his build.
Usually a calmer person, the only time he’ll be seen acting unintelligent or flustered is when he senses sweet food- his weakness. Especially sticky buns. For his species, he speaks very smoothly, an attractive trait for the Gar Naal. When angered- which is very rare- outside of Vuist he isn't much of a threat due to his size, but when piloting Vuist Z becomes an extreme force to reckon with. When “joined” with Vuist, the voice that comes from Vuist is scrapping and metallic, but deep.
Birth place:Luch’zoen Naarhuis
Skills:
Harnas Pilot
Gar Naal CQC Combat
Repair
Slicing
Equipment:
Vuist
Roer
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 4
Intelligence: 9
Speed: 6
Leadership: 6
Unarmed: 5
Melee Weapons: 2
Ranged Weapons: 8
Alignment: +4
Bio:
Big City, Little Naaling: Birth- 10
Z’oon Staf was hatched from an abandoned clutch of Gar Naal eggs in the bowels of Naar’huis- a common thing to find in the depths of any Luch’zoen. Most of the time, an abandoned clutch would be destroyed by the Ju’na- or “cleaners”- to help keep population down, but this clutch was found by Avre- an aged Otua who made a habit of finding these clutches before “cleaned”. Avre was an odd one- even for a Gar- an engineer known for adopting orphans and giving them shelter. However, not for free. Each Naaling he raised was a worker, another able body he could use.
The orphans were taught two things by Avre- how to fix things, and how to steal. Due to the limited supplies a Luch’zoen could produce- stealing was the best way for the needy to survive. Out of the entire crew of Naalings Avre had collected, he had only adopted 3 Otua total. These three received the title “Staf” as their last name, meaning “Favored Son” in their language. Z’oon was given his name, meaning “Brighest”, as he proved to be Avre’s favorite. The Naaling Z’oon was naturally gifted with machinery it seemed, and was given special attention by Avre. The Ruw Naalings didn’t appreciate this, and when Avre wasn’t looking, would beat and taunt little Z’oon. Avre never caught these Ruw, and thus, Z’oon never really got any justice from it- only when he’d trick the Ruw to give him their share of food.
Over the years of Z’oon’s Naalinghood, he always felt something was missing, like a part of him hadn’t left the clutch- left there, waiting to be picked up. This feeling wouldn’t leave for some time, but soon, a whole new purpose would show itself. Little did Z’oon know, but Avre had contacted the Harnas’weg- the Otua who was commander of the Al’Harnas. After hearing of the Naaling’s talents with machinery, and meeting Z’oon- the Harnas’weg agreed to take Z’oon for Al’Harnas training, at the age of ten, just like every other Al’Harnas.
And so, from the slums of Naar’huis, Z’oon made it to the middle level of the Luch’zoen- the level that was reserved for military personnel. Z’oon, along with the other Al’Harnas inductees, went through the surgeries to become one of the legendary Harnas pilots. The tops of all four antennae were removed and sealed into control capsules, for future use, and the back of his head had the input socket installed. The extra weight, and the missing pieces of his antennae, would take some time to get used to. Luckily, as all Al’Harnas had gone through the process, the instructors were lenient on the recruits, giving them time to practice living again with the new gear that was attached to them.
After a couple weeks, Z’oon had gotten used to everything- even made a few friends in the process. The one that he bonded most with, was a young female Otua named Liehth. Her powder blue shell and white eyes were pleasing to the young boy, and her bubbly personality was irresistible to him. The two would spend many hours in the education chambers- reading up on the Harnas’ engineering, piloting techniques, and even about some legendary Al’Harnas.
Finally, after six months of tutoring and learning, the recruits were introduced to Speelb- the training Harnas. Speelb was a dummy Harnas- all the most basic equipment- not tailored for the Al’Harnas, and not weaponized. The first time Z’oon joined with Speelb- it was a shock. The Harnas opened, plates shifting and exhaust fuming- it was rather intimidating. The seat was cold, and the slots for his legs and arms felt too tight. When he plugged his antennae into the appropriate outlets, his senses felt dulled- at first. But that wasn’t the worst part of it. With a whir, the Harnas’ cerebral jack spun into Z’oon’s brain, and a world of colors, sounds, sights and feelings pervaded his mind all at once. With a shriek, Z’oon’s only thought was Get me out! in which Speelb complied- the jack quickly removed from Z’oon. This wasn’t an uncommon reaction to the enhanced awareness of the Harnas- Z’oon soon calming down after this was explained.
Time passed, and after a year of routine joining with Speelb, time finally came for the recruits to not only join with the dummy- but to pilot it. With trepidation, Z’oon joined with Speelb- and after the year of getting to know it- it actually felt somewhat natural. As the Harnas rose to its feet, Z’oon made sure to calm himself, just as he had been taught. With whirs and clanks, Z’oon slowly maneuvered Speelb around the training chamber, his heart soaring at the feeling- almost as if that void in him was filled. Z’oon, at age thirteen, had proven that not only did he belong amongst the Al’Harnas, but that he was a natural at it.
Once Z’oon had passed the joining tests- he was introduced to Leraes- one of the the Luch’zoen’s top Al’Harnas. She was a cold, tough mentor- but Z’oon seemed to respond to this. Together, the pair drafted the plans for Z’oon’s own Harnas. Using the basic frame and slijk core of a ‘blank’ Harnas, Z’oon careful chose everything for it. A Nagelen- a Gar Naal piercing gun, an Onstelen- a blaster type weapon, as well as a grenade launcher and a small missile launcher were chosen. The first two meant to be mounted on the Harnas’ arms, while the final two meant to be mounted on the shoulders.
After another year passed, Z’oon’s Harnas was completed. Weeks of cognitive forming was done, along with practice runs and weapon configurations. But the final product was a fine example of a Harnas. A bright silver in color, and marked with Gar Naal runes. Z’oon dubbed the Harnas Vuist- or “Strong Fist”. To Leraes’ delight, Z’oon had managed what all Al’Harnas strive to achieve- complete harmony with their Harnas. And that void that Z’oon had felt for most of his life was smote, when he was joined with Vuist- he was complete.
Around the time Z’oon was seventeen, his relationship with Liehth began to bloom into something greater. The two went from spending time studying, to simply spending time with one another. It wasn’t long before Z’oon started leaving shiny items he’d find by her bunk’s door, and excreting the pheromones necessary to tell her that he was ready. However, Gar Naal mating rituals took years to complete, so nothing would happen for years there. During that mating ritual, Z’oon wouldn’t slack on his duties- he was not far from graduating to a full Al’Harnas.
As his eighteenth birthday rolled around, the instructors began to announce what wings the recruits would be joining after graduation. To Z’oon and Liehth’s delight, they were both to be inducted into Al’Eerse- or “First Flight”- the very first Harnas Squadron, and still considered the best out of all the Gar Naal. The final months of training flew by, until graduation day came about. Z’oon graduated in the top one percent of his class, with Liehth not far behind him. The two were inducted into Al’Eerse that very day, both of them receiving etchings of the Al’Eerse symbol (a circle with a vertical line through it) in the left side of the shell on their head. They were also given the ceremonial weapon of the Al’Eerse- a Roer. The Roer was a one handed firearm that fired spear-like projectiles. The two were now apart of the best Harnas squadron.
The Al’Eerse was responsible for both Luch’zoen defense, and as advanced recon for the Luch’zoen they belonged to. Due to Liehth and Z’oon’s closeness, the Al’Eerse paired them up as a scouting duo, a plan that proved to be just as good in theory as in practice. Moon after moon would be explored by the pair, but each drop would prove to be a failure- whether it be an inhospitable climate, or preoccupied by predators or sentients that were less than friendly.
Two years would spin by, and the pair soon became one of the most recognizable, and notable Al’Harnas among the ever prowling fleet. Z’oon even forgave tradition, and sped up his rituals with Liehth, the two agreed to be wed. In a mere three months, Z’oon and Liehth would say there vows and start a family.
It was a rare thing for a Luch’zoen to fall- the Otua engineers and hard work of the Ruw usually keep everything running. It was an even rarer event for anyone to stumble across the Gar Naal fleet, and rarest to attack one of the Luch’zoen. Near the end of the month before Z’oon and Liehth were to tie the knot, an entire fleet of raiders dropped out of hyperspace just over Nar’huuis- and the battle began. Laser cannons roared, proton torpedoes scorched space, and Gar Naal weapon shredded. But, it was an entire fleet against a lone Luch’zoen. All of Al’Eerse was dispatched from all Luch’zoens- the swarm of mechanized warriors turned the tide of the battle- the raider fleet not expecting the sudden appearance of hundreds of Harnas.
The arrival of the Al’Harnas descended upon the raider’s ships, and did what they did best. In a literal fashion, the Gar Naal tore apart the ships without any true weaponry, simply using the Harnas to pull off weapon, engines, life support, whatever they could get their hands on. But the Ancestors were not watching Liehth that day, to Z’oon’s horror, he watched as she tried to pry a weapon from the ship they were attacking, but the weapon fired- only to shred her Harnas apart. Every Al’Harnas knew that damage like that was fatal to the pilot, regardless if they themselves weren’t harmed.
The battle ended up being won by the Gar Naal, but at dire consequences. Many Al’Harnas were killed trying to protect their people. And Z’oon- though he survived- spiraled into a terrible depression. Never leaving his bunk, never seeking company, and rarely eating or sleeping for weeks, it was difficult for his friends in the Al’Eerse to watch. Z’oon even neglected Vuist for this time, the Harnas sitting in the Al’Eerse garage collecting dust. The heads of his unit discussed the issue with the Luch’zoen’s elders, until a decision was made. Periodically, the Gar Naal send out colonization scout teams- and each one always had at least one Harnas with them. The elders felt that time away from the Fleet would be good for Z’oon, the excursion giving him a chance to recover and relax a bit. They offered the latest open spot to Z’oon, who after a few days, accepted the request.
Four weeks after losing his beloved Liehth, Z’oon picked up maintenance on Vuist- giving his Harnas a much needed tune up and diagnostic. Once Vuist was ready, Z’oon was ready for his big venture out into the galaxy. Along with five other Gar Naal in a single, small research vessel, Z’oon was told their mission was simple. For three years, they would scout along the galaxy, never dipping more than half into it- looking for uninhabited planets. Z’oon was ready- and at this point willing.
With three Ruw and three Otua total, the team was specially picked for their skills. Z’oon was security, one Otua was the pilot, the final one the commander of the mission, while the three Ruw worked both as maintenance and handymen. For months, the group searched, occasionally finding a hospitable moon or planet- but their sensors always found that the planets were either already colonized or filled with dangerous predators- and they were given strict orders to avoid sentience if possible. And so, without luck, the mission continued on- they had now traveled to the other side of the galaxy from where they started near Ilum. The Gar Naal team now was near Ossus and it was time to venture deeper into the galaxy.
It seemed that the Ancestors had it in for Z’oon. As the team entered space around Concord Dawn- an epic malfunction happened. To this day Z’oon has been unable to explain what exactly brought the ship down, but in a fireball their ship flew into Concord Dawn’s atmosphere- Z’oon luckily was smart enough to run into the tiny hangar and join with Vuist- the extra armor ended up saving Z’oon’s life. His team mates weren’t that lucky though, when the ship crashed, the sound alone attracted the locals- and that would change Z’oon’s life.
The Mandalorians of Concord Dawn arrived at the crash site just in time to see Vuist drag itself from the smoldering wreckage of Z’oon’s ship, broken and limped, thick dark blue goop dripped down the hull- giving it the appearance of bleeding. Z’oon prepped what weapons Vuist still had functional- prepared for an attack. Instead though, he felt himself start to fall out of consciousness and quickly stopped his joining with Vuist and opened the cockpit to reveal himself and surrender to the crowd of armored warriors. Last thing Z’oon remembered of that day was himself falling out of Vuist to be caught by a large, robust armored man.
Z’oon woke up days later, shocked to find himself bandaged and cared for. He was certain that the aliens wouldn’t treat him with any mercy, let alone aid him. There were people around him, sentients of odd shapes and sizes- people he had never seen before. They were mostly all soft and fragile looking- almost as if their shell was beneath their meat. One tried to speak to Z’oon- but he didn’t understand their tongue, the person put a hand to their chest and spoke to words as they patted their chest. The person then gestured to Z’oon for a moment before they patted their own chest again and spoke the two words. Z’oon understood, the person was saying their name- Yura Ponto. Z’oon moved his right arm to his chest and mimicked Yura’s motion before saying his own name- Z’oon Stafsha. After he was sure Yura understood the name, Yura laughed and pointed at Z’oon and simply called him “Z”.
After a week of rest, Z’oon was escorted to the crash site with Yura at his side- Z’oon now understood that he was a male of the “Human” species. And the people he was with were known as “Mandalorians”. When they arrived at the wreckage, both happiness and sorrow touched the Gar- the ship was destroyed beyond repair, and the bodies of his comrades had already been buried- mounds of dirt marked their graves. But there was Vuist as well- the mech in the same position as it was the day Z fell out of it. The Mandalorians helped Z get to Vuist- and helped him in. Z didn’t close the cockpit yet, instead he joined with Vuist and motioned for the Mandalorians to start talking. The group was confused at first, but began to just talk among themselves while Z sat in the cockpit as he hit buttons, turned knobs, and adjusted other equipment.
To the Mandalorians surprise, their language started coming from the large mech- in a deep, grating, metallic voice. Z’oon perked up with joy that he was able to calibrate Vuist’s AI to track and learn the language. Z explained that he would talk more to everyone once they got back to camp- but Vuist came first. Luckily Vuist was still able to move- if at a limping pace- back to the village the Mandalorians lived. But even that little trek exhausted Z, who slept for a few days after recovering Vuist. He knew not to push himself, without a Gar Naal doctor around, they had no idea just how bad the damage done to Z was.
For a year Z recovered, never venturing far from the building he was healing in, Yura a common visitor along with a droid to try and translate Z. Z’oon had other ideas though, and motioned to let the droid stay. After a few days of work, Z’oon was able to have the droid translate for him- even if it was a very rough translation. Z’oon was not a pickled toe. But the droid would be a temporary translator- once Vuist was repaired and operational, it’d take over. In only a few more months, Z would be ready to bring Vuist back to it’s former glory.
During his time recovering, Z spent a lot of time studying and learning about he Mandalorian culture. They fascinated the Gar- not only because it was an alien culture to him, but because of the amount of different sentients, and the warrior culture. Z found it funny that the people he had been fostered by shared the Al’Eerse mindset about armor, or Harnas’ in the Gar Naal way, that it was both a way to protect, but a “face” of sorts. But they also had the “A warrior is more than his armor” type mindset that all Al’Eerse were taught. Z’oon appreciated the culture, but as a proud Gar- he would never fully adopt it. However, Z was an honorable man, and after the lengths these people had gone through to sustain his life, he indeed owed them all.
He had finally healed fully, after almost two years, Z’oon was back on his feet. First thing he went to was Vuist. The once shining silver hull had become dull and gray, and Z could tell just by looking at his beloved walker that there was much work to do. Almost all the weapons had been destroyed, and the hull was severely damaged, blue synthetic muscle and wiring easily seen in places it shouldn’t have been. Z’oon was depressed by this, he didn’t have nearly enough scrap metal to forge new armor for Vuist- nor did he have any spare Harnas weaponry to add onto it- the only thing that wasn’t destroyed was the Nagelen. But Yura promised Z that they would help him with this task- offering the use of beskar for the Harnas’ armor. He explained to Z exactly what Beskar was capable of- and it enticed Z. Yura also offered his clans weapons to him, saying that whether Z liked it or not, he was apart of the Ponto clan, and clan members watched out for one another.
Fueled by this sudden show of brotherhood, Z was determined. With the help of Ponto beskarsmiths, new plates for Vuist’s hull were made, as well as an adaptor for a heavy blaster rifle, grenade launcher, and rocket launcher. With the aid of a few Mandalorian technicians, Z was able to repair Vuist- but this time, he knew that the old Vuist was dead, and that it needed a new look. From what Z had learned, green was the color of duty to the Mandalorians- and so, in honor of both his fallen comrades, and in honor of the people who saved his life, Vuist was painted a drab green with yellow lines- though part of the old Vuist still showed, the scuffed gray metal reminding Z of where he came from. On Vuist he painted symbols of both the Gar Naal and Mandalorians- a mythosaur skull of the Mandos and the Al’Eerse symbol. He added one last marking, one that no one but himself- or any other Gar Naal would understand- Liehth’s name.
Now that his beloved Harnas was rebuilt after a year of hard work, he knew that it was time to give back to those who gave him so much. With Vuist as his translator, Z’oon began showing Mandalorian technicians how they could easily and cheaply improve their vehicles performance. He also began teaching what little bits he could about the Gar Naal martial arts to the clan- but no species among them had the leg strength or dexterity to use it. However, Z still felt like he was helping. But Z’oon still felt it wasn’t enough, there was more he could give.
Z’oon’s wish would indeed be filled in the form of Bane Haseful. Z had never met this man, but was impressed nonetheless by the massive armored man. The Gar guessed that someone in the clan had contacted other Mandalorians about Z’oon- no doubt his walker and quick thinking would prove handy to them. Z’oon was offered to join up with the Mandalorian Special Operations as a Specialist- and Z accepted, once more able to do what he does best.
RP Sample:
The smell of oil stuck to Z’s olfactory tentacles like a bad meal. Growling a few Gar swears as he threw a spanner before he jumped off the shoulder of Vuist- his Harnas. He punched the green metal hull of it just as he kicked over a small bucket of water he had been drinking from.
”Dom’wereld kette brok’het wijzen!”
Spat the Gar as his antennae waggled in frustration. It wasn’t often that problems showed up in Vuist’ external wiring- but sure enough, one had popped up. Z bunched his legs up before he propelled himself forward a good ten feet to land on a fellow Mandalorian’s speeder. The younger man hollered out and scrambled backwards, he shook his head at Z.
”Dammit Z! I told you not to do that, now whaddya want?”
Z’s antennae rolled in a searching pattern before his mouth clacked and he picked up a wiring harness from a scrap pile on the speeder’s wing. Z clicked and whistled a quick ‘thank you’ before he launched off the speeder and back to Vuist. Antennae waved over the opening in Vuist’ armor, the wires looked like veins, and complex machinery wove into synthetic muscle, a strange blue hue emanated from it. With diligent hands, Z gently moved some ‘muscle’ aside to reveal a cluster of vein-like wires, his hands lowered the harness into the space, followed by them being plugged into the harness. After a few moments of work, Z straightened his back, a satisfied slurp came from him as he did. Now that Vuist’ left arm was rewired and fixed, Z could focus on some more internal navicomp problems.
Or so he thought, not a second after he had placed the harness, the scent of something sweet touched him. Tentacles slapped together then twisted onto themselves, Z’s bright orange eyes rolled slightly back in pleasure- it seemed that the clan leader’s wife had once more made those sticky sweet rolls for dessert. With few bounds, Z was far from the engineering section of the Mandalorian camp, his hunt for sweet delights the only thing on his mind.
Pass: Kylah (I’m honored you used this ;D)
Z’oon Staf was hatched from an abandoned clutch of Gar Naal eggs in the bowels of Naar’huis- a common thing to find in the depths of any Luch’zoen. Most of the time, an abandoned clutch would be destroyed by the Ju’na- or “cleaners”- to help keep population down, but this clutch was found by Avre- an aged Otua who made a habit of finding these clutches before “cleaned”. Avre was an odd one- even for a Gar- an engineer known for adopting orphans and giving them shelter. However, not for free. Each Naaling he raised was a worker, another able body he could use.
The orphans were taught two things by Avre- how to fix things, and how to steal. Due to the limited supplies a Luch’zoen could produce- stealing was the best way for the needy to survive. Out of the entire crew of Naalings Avre had collected, he had only adopted 3 Otua total. These three received the title “Staf” as their last name, meaning “Favored Son” in their language. Z’oon was given his name, meaning “Brighest”, as he proved to be Avre’s favorite. The Naaling Z’oon was naturally gifted with machinery it seemed, and was given special attention by Avre. The Ruw Naalings didn’t appreciate this, and when Avre wasn’t looking, would beat and taunt little Z’oon. Avre never caught these Ruw, and thus, Z’oon never really got any justice from it- only when he’d trick the Ruw to give him their share of food.
Over the years of Z’oon’s Naalinghood, he always felt something was missing, like a part of him hadn’t left the clutch- left there, waiting to be picked up. This feeling wouldn’t leave for some time, but soon, a whole new purpose would show itself. Little did Z’oon know, but Avre had contacted the Harnas’weg- the Otua who was commander of the Al’Harnas. After hearing of the Naaling’s talents with machinery, and meeting Z’oon- the Harnas’weg agreed to take Z’oon for Al’Harnas training, at the age of ten, just like every other Al’Harnas.
The Striders: 11-20
And so, from the slums of Naar’huis, Z’oon made it to the middle level of the Luch’zoen- the level that was reserved for military personnel. Z’oon, along with the other Al’Harnas inductees, went through the surgeries to become one of the legendary Harnas pilots. The tops of all four antennae were removed and sealed into control capsules, for future use, and the back of his head had the input socket installed. The extra weight, and the missing pieces of his antennae, would take some time to get used to. Luckily, as all Al’Harnas had gone through the process, the instructors were lenient on the recruits, giving them time to practice living again with the new gear that was attached to them.
After a couple weeks, Z’oon had gotten used to everything- even made a few friends in the process. The one that he bonded most with, was a young female Otua named Liehth. Her powder blue shell and white eyes were pleasing to the young boy, and her bubbly personality was irresistible to him. The two would spend many hours in the education chambers- reading up on the Harnas’ engineering, piloting techniques, and even about some legendary Al’Harnas.
Finally, after six months of tutoring and learning, the recruits were introduced to Speelb- the training Harnas. Speelb was a dummy Harnas- all the most basic equipment- not tailored for the Al’Harnas, and not weaponized. The first time Z’oon joined with Speelb- it was a shock. The Harnas opened, plates shifting and exhaust fuming- it was rather intimidating. The seat was cold, and the slots for his legs and arms felt too tight. When he plugged his antennae into the appropriate outlets, his senses felt dulled- at first. But that wasn’t the worst part of it. With a whir, the Harnas’ cerebral jack spun into Z’oon’s brain, and a world of colors, sounds, sights and feelings pervaded his mind all at once. With a shriek, Z’oon’s only thought was Get me out! in which Speelb complied- the jack quickly removed from Z’oon. This wasn’t an uncommon reaction to the enhanced awareness of the Harnas- Z’oon soon calming down after this was explained.
Time passed, and after a year of routine joining with Speelb, time finally came for the recruits to not only join with the dummy- but to pilot it. With trepidation, Z’oon joined with Speelb- and after the year of getting to know it- it actually felt somewhat natural. As the Harnas rose to its feet, Z’oon made sure to calm himself, just as he had been taught. With whirs and clanks, Z’oon slowly maneuvered Speelb around the training chamber, his heart soaring at the feeling- almost as if that void in him was filled. Z’oon, at age thirteen, had proven that not only did he belong amongst the Al’Harnas, but that he was a natural at it.
Once Z’oon had passed the joining tests- he was introduced to Leraes- one of the the Luch’zoen’s top Al’Harnas. She was a cold, tough mentor- but Z’oon seemed to respond to this. Together, the pair drafted the plans for Z’oon’s own Harnas. Using the basic frame and slijk core of a ‘blank’ Harnas, Z’oon careful chose everything for it. A Nagelen- a Gar Naal piercing gun, an Onstelen- a blaster type weapon, as well as a grenade launcher and a small missile launcher were chosen. The first two meant to be mounted on the Harnas’ arms, while the final two meant to be mounted on the shoulders.
After another year passed, Z’oon’s Harnas was completed. Weeks of cognitive forming was done, along with practice runs and weapon configurations. But the final product was a fine example of a Harnas. A bright silver in color, and marked with Gar Naal runes. Z’oon dubbed the Harnas Vuist- or “Strong Fist”. To Leraes’ delight, Z’oon had managed what all Al’Harnas strive to achieve- complete harmony with their Harnas. And that void that Z’oon had felt for most of his life was smote, when he was joined with Vuist- he was complete.
Around the time Z’oon was seventeen, his relationship with Liehth began to bloom into something greater. The two went from spending time studying, to simply spending time with one another. It wasn’t long before Z’oon started leaving shiny items he’d find by her bunk’s door, and excreting the pheromones necessary to tell her that he was ready. However, Gar Naal mating rituals took years to complete, so nothing would happen for years there. During that mating ritual, Z’oon wouldn’t slack on his duties- he was not far from graduating to a full Al’Harnas.
As his eighteenth birthday rolled around, the instructors began to announce what wings the recruits would be joining after graduation. To Z’oon and Liehth’s delight, they were both to be inducted into Al’Eerse- or “First Flight”- the very first Harnas Squadron, and still considered the best out of all the Gar Naal. The final months of training flew by, until graduation day came about. Z’oon graduated in the top one percent of his class, with Liehth not far behind him. The two were inducted into Al’Eerse that very day, both of them receiving etchings of the Al’Eerse symbol (a circle with a vertical line through it) in the left side of the shell on their head. They were also given the ceremonial weapon of the Al’Eerse- a Roer. The Roer was a one handed firearm that fired spear-like projectiles. The two were now apart of the best Harnas squadron.
The Al’Eerse was responsible for both Luch’zoen defense, and as advanced recon for the Luch’zoen they belonged to. Due to Liehth and Z’oon’s closeness, the Al’Eerse paired them up as a scouting duo, a plan that proved to be just as good in theory as in practice. Moon after moon would be explored by the pair, but each drop would prove to be a failure- whether it be an inhospitable climate, or preoccupied by predators or sentients that were less than friendly.
Two years would spin by, and the pair soon became one of the most recognizable, and notable Al’Harnas among the ever prowling fleet. Z’oon even forgave tradition, and sped up his rituals with Liehth, the two agreed to be wed. In a mere three months, Z’oon and Liehth would say there vows and start a family.
Death and Disaster: 20
It was a rare thing for a Luch’zoen to fall- the Otua engineers and hard work of the Ruw usually keep everything running. It was an even rarer event for anyone to stumble across the Gar Naal fleet, and rarest to attack one of the Luch’zoen. Near the end of the month before Z’oon and Liehth were to tie the knot, an entire fleet of raiders dropped out of hyperspace just over Nar’huuis- and the battle began. Laser cannons roared, proton torpedoes scorched space, and Gar Naal weapon shredded. But, it was an entire fleet against a lone Luch’zoen. All of Al’Eerse was dispatched from all Luch’zoens- the swarm of mechanized warriors turned the tide of the battle- the raider fleet not expecting the sudden appearance of hundreds of Harnas.
The arrival of the Al’Harnas descended upon the raider’s ships, and did what they did best. In a literal fashion, the Gar Naal tore apart the ships without any true weaponry, simply using the Harnas to pull off weapon, engines, life support, whatever they could get their hands on. But the Ancestors were not watching Liehth that day, to Z’oon’s horror, he watched as she tried to pry a weapon from the ship they were attacking, but the weapon fired- only to shred her Harnas apart. Every Al’Harnas knew that damage like that was fatal to the pilot, regardless if they themselves weren’t harmed.
The battle ended up being won by the Gar Naal, but at dire consequences. Many Al’Harnas were killed trying to protect their people. And Z’oon- though he survived- spiraled into a terrible depression. Never leaving his bunk, never seeking company, and rarely eating or sleeping for weeks, it was difficult for his friends in the Al’Eerse to watch. Z’oon even neglected Vuist for this time, the Harnas sitting in the Al’Eerse garage collecting dust. The heads of his unit discussed the issue with the Luch’zoen’s elders, until a decision was made. Periodically, the Gar Naal send out colonization scout teams- and each one always had at least one Harnas with them. The elders felt that time away from the Fleet would be good for Z’oon, the excursion giving him a chance to recover and relax a bit. They offered the latest open spot to Z’oon, who after a few days, accepted the request.
Strange Stranger: 21-present
Four weeks after losing his beloved Liehth, Z’oon picked up maintenance on Vuist- giving his Harnas a much needed tune up and diagnostic. Once Vuist was ready, Z’oon was ready for his big venture out into the galaxy. Along with five other Gar Naal in a single, small research vessel, Z’oon was told their mission was simple. For three years, they would scout along the galaxy, never dipping more than half into it- looking for uninhabited planets. Z’oon was ready- and at this point willing.
With three Ruw and three Otua total, the team was specially picked for their skills. Z’oon was security, one Otua was the pilot, the final one the commander of the mission, while the three Ruw worked both as maintenance and handymen. For months, the group searched, occasionally finding a hospitable moon or planet- but their sensors always found that the planets were either already colonized or filled with dangerous predators- and they were given strict orders to avoid sentience if possible. And so, without luck, the mission continued on- they had now traveled to the other side of the galaxy from where they started near Ilum. The Gar Naal team now was near Ossus and it was time to venture deeper into the galaxy.
It seemed that the Ancestors had it in for Z’oon. As the team entered space around Concord Dawn- an epic malfunction happened. To this day Z’oon has been unable to explain what exactly brought the ship down, but in a fireball their ship flew into Concord Dawn’s atmosphere- Z’oon luckily was smart enough to run into the tiny hangar and join with Vuist- the extra armor ended up saving Z’oon’s life. His team mates weren’t that lucky though, when the ship crashed, the sound alone attracted the locals- and that would change Z’oon’s life.
The Mandalorians of Concord Dawn arrived at the crash site just in time to see Vuist drag itself from the smoldering wreckage of Z’oon’s ship, broken and limped, thick dark blue goop dripped down the hull- giving it the appearance of bleeding. Z’oon prepped what weapons Vuist still had functional- prepared for an attack. Instead though, he felt himself start to fall out of consciousness and quickly stopped his joining with Vuist and opened the cockpit to reveal himself and surrender to the crowd of armored warriors. Last thing Z’oon remembered of that day was himself falling out of Vuist to be caught by a large, robust armored man.
Z’oon woke up days later, shocked to find himself bandaged and cared for. He was certain that the aliens wouldn’t treat him with any mercy, let alone aid him. There were people around him, sentients of odd shapes and sizes- people he had never seen before. They were mostly all soft and fragile looking- almost as if their shell was beneath their meat. One tried to speak to Z’oon- but he didn’t understand their tongue, the person put a hand to their chest and spoke to words as they patted their chest. The person then gestured to Z’oon for a moment before they patted their own chest again and spoke the two words. Z’oon understood, the person was saying their name- Yura Ponto. Z’oon moved his right arm to his chest and mimicked Yura’s motion before saying his own name- Z’oon Stafsha. After he was sure Yura understood the name, Yura laughed and pointed at Z’oon and simply called him “Z”.
After a week of rest, Z’oon was escorted to the crash site with Yura at his side- Z’oon now understood that he was a male of the “Human” species. And the people he was with were known as “Mandalorians”. When they arrived at the wreckage, both happiness and sorrow touched the Gar- the ship was destroyed beyond repair, and the bodies of his comrades had already been buried- mounds of dirt marked their graves. But there was Vuist as well- the mech in the same position as it was the day Z fell out of it. The Mandalorians helped Z get to Vuist- and helped him in. Z didn’t close the cockpit yet, instead he joined with Vuist and motioned for the Mandalorians to start talking. The group was confused at first, but began to just talk among themselves while Z sat in the cockpit as he hit buttons, turned knobs, and adjusted other equipment.
To the Mandalorians surprise, their language started coming from the large mech- in a deep, grating, metallic voice. Z’oon perked up with joy that he was able to calibrate Vuist’s AI to track and learn the language. Z explained that he would talk more to everyone once they got back to camp- but Vuist came first. Luckily Vuist was still able to move- if at a limping pace- back to the village the Mandalorians lived. But even that little trek exhausted Z, who slept for a few days after recovering Vuist. He knew not to push himself, without a Gar Naal doctor around, they had no idea just how bad the damage done to Z was.
For a year Z recovered, never venturing far from the building he was healing in, Yura a common visitor along with a droid to try and translate Z. Z’oon had other ideas though, and motioned to let the droid stay. After a few days of work, Z’oon was able to have the droid translate for him- even if it was a very rough translation. Z’oon was not a pickled toe. But the droid would be a temporary translator- once Vuist was repaired and operational, it’d take over. In only a few more months, Z would be ready to bring Vuist back to it’s former glory.
During his time recovering, Z spent a lot of time studying and learning about he Mandalorian culture. They fascinated the Gar- not only because it was an alien culture to him, but because of the amount of different sentients, and the warrior culture. Z found it funny that the people he had been fostered by shared the Al’Eerse mindset about armor, or Harnas’ in the Gar Naal way, that it was both a way to protect, but a “face” of sorts. But they also had the “A warrior is more than his armor” type mindset that all Al’Eerse were taught. Z’oon appreciated the culture, but as a proud Gar- he would never fully adopt it. However, Z was an honorable man, and after the lengths these people had gone through to sustain his life, he indeed owed them all.
He had finally healed fully, after almost two years, Z’oon was back on his feet. First thing he went to was Vuist. The once shining silver hull had become dull and gray, and Z could tell just by looking at his beloved walker that there was much work to do. Almost all the weapons had been destroyed, and the hull was severely damaged, blue synthetic muscle and wiring easily seen in places it shouldn’t have been. Z’oon was depressed by this, he didn’t have nearly enough scrap metal to forge new armor for Vuist- nor did he have any spare Harnas weaponry to add onto it- the only thing that wasn’t destroyed was the Nagelen. But Yura promised Z that they would help him with this task- offering the use of beskar for the Harnas’ armor. He explained to Z exactly what Beskar was capable of- and it enticed Z. Yura also offered his clans weapons to him, saying that whether Z liked it or not, he was apart of the Ponto clan, and clan members watched out for one another.
Fueled by this sudden show of brotherhood, Z was determined. With the help of Ponto beskarsmiths, new plates for Vuist’s hull were made, as well as an adaptor for a heavy blaster rifle, grenade launcher, and rocket launcher. With the aid of a few Mandalorian technicians, Z was able to repair Vuist- but this time, he knew that the old Vuist was dead, and that it needed a new look. From what Z had learned, green was the color of duty to the Mandalorians- and so, in honor of both his fallen comrades, and in honor of the people who saved his life, Vuist was painted a drab green with yellow lines- though part of the old Vuist still showed, the scuffed gray metal reminding Z of where he came from. On Vuist he painted symbols of both the Gar Naal and Mandalorians- a mythosaur skull of the Mandos and the Al’Eerse symbol. He added one last marking, one that no one but himself- or any other Gar Naal would understand- Liehth’s name.
Now that his beloved Harnas was rebuilt after a year of hard work, he knew that it was time to give back to those who gave him so much. With Vuist as his translator, Z’oon began showing Mandalorian technicians how they could easily and cheaply improve their vehicles performance. He also began teaching what little bits he could about the Gar Naal martial arts to the clan- but no species among them had the leg strength or dexterity to use it. However, Z still felt like he was helping. But Z’oon still felt it wasn’t enough, there was more he could give.
Z’oon’s wish would indeed be filled in the form of Bane Haseful. Z had never met this man, but was impressed nonetheless by the massive armored man. The Gar guessed that someone in the clan had contacted other Mandalorians about Z’oon- no doubt his walker and quick thinking would prove handy to them. Z’oon was offered to join up with the Mandalorian Special Operations as a Specialist- and Z accepted, once more able to do what he does best.
RP Sample:
The smell of oil stuck to Z’s olfactory tentacles like a bad meal. Growling a few Gar swears as he threw a spanner before he jumped off the shoulder of Vuist- his Harnas. He punched the green metal hull of it just as he kicked over a small bucket of water he had been drinking from.
”Dom’wereld kette brok’het wijzen!”
Spat the Gar as his antennae waggled in frustration. It wasn’t often that problems showed up in Vuist’ external wiring- but sure enough, one had popped up. Z bunched his legs up before he propelled himself forward a good ten feet to land on a fellow Mandalorian’s speeder. The younger man hollered out and scrambled backwards, he shook his head at Z.
”Dammit Z! I told you not to do that, now whaddya want?”
Z’s antennae rolled in a searching pattern before his mouth clacked and he picked up a wiring harness from a scrap pile on the speeder’s wing. Z clicked and whistled a quick ‘thank you’ before he launched off the speeder and back to Vuist. Antennae waved over the opening in Vuist’ armor, the wires looked like veins, and complex machinery wove into synthetic muscle, a strange blue hue emanated from it. With diligent hands, Z gently moved some ‘muscle’ aside to reveal a cluster of vein-like wires, his hands lowered the harness into the space, followed by them being plugged into the harness. After a few moments of work, Z straightened his back, a satisfied slurp came from him as he did. Now that Vuist’ left arm was rewired and fixed, Z could focus on some more internal navicomp problems.
Or so he thought, not a second after he had placed the harness, the scent of something sweet touched him. Tentacles slapped together then twisted onto themselves, Z’s bright orange eyes rolled slightly back in pleasure- it seemed that the clan leader’s wife had once more made those sticky sweet rolls for dessert. With few bounds, Z was far from the engineering section of the Mandalorian camp, his hunt for sweet delights the only thing on his mind.
Pass: Kylah (I’m honored you used this ;D)
