Boggard Swampseer

Alejandro Peche's page

No posts. Alias of CanisDirus.


Full Name

Alejandro De Laurentiis Ramsey-Ramirez-Rosas at your service. But you may call me...... Peche

Race

Grippli

Classes/Levels

Operative

Gender

Male

Size

Small

Alignment

CN

Deity

Besmara

About Alejandro Peche

(The following narrated into a voice-record with a Spanish accent)

Never let it be said that movies and holo-vids are a waste of time.

Oh, I am certain you were expecting this little confessional to actually start at the beginning. That is where most things begin, yes? Forgive me for wanting to inject a little bit of excitement into the narrative you will soon have to explain to your superiors. Ah well, I suppose I shall keep things simple for your sake, my overly-trusting monitor officer, since if you are extremely unlucky, your vesk overlords may have you sleeping in the cell I recently departed in my place. I seem to remember you saying your uncle Bozamn Zorbolo has a rather influential "big sister" in the government? Maybe one of them can save you from the Veskarium's displeasure. Who knows, on a lax outpost like Vesk-2, perhaps they'll just want this swept under the rug.

Where to begin? I was born? I presume you might know more about this than I. All I know of my origins are that I had a silver-and-pink bracelet with the letter "K" on it when Command-2 processed me into their birth records and that I have no idea where the rest of my people, the grippli, call home. I suppose Vesk-2 is as good a place as any for a "frogman" - forgive me, that was one of the two most common jokes by the military liaisons during "wetwork" training...and that was the other one.

I may have been born on Iji, but being neither ijitkri nor vesk, I never really fit in. Oh, my adopted ijitkri parents were very kind, yes, but perhaps my love of Pact Worlds adventure movies should have been a hint as to the kind of life I wished to live. I suppose days spent on a defrex ranch may have taught me a few things, but being arrested for the first time as a teenager trying to "rustle defrex" should have made things quite obvious.

No matter how complacent the vesk officials may be, stationed on the idyllic Vesk-2 - no one likes a pirate. The fact that I talked back to officers during my second teen arrest, declaring my intent to steal one of their starships and join the Free Captains in the Diaspora or the stormrunners around Vesk-5 led them to look into my vid-history and the long list of Pact World space pirate films I had downloaded. According to the liaison officers, my youth, ingenuity, creativity, and the fact that I was not actually a vesk (nor any fully-fledged member race of the Veskarium) meant that I was perfect for a new program being developed by the "Division of Disloyal Organizations" - a division of non-vesk operatives given military training to work alone or in small groups along with numerous cover identities, then sent free throughout the cosmos until contacted by "control" with instructions for missions. Hence the jokes about "frogmen" and "wetwork" going back to old Pact World war vids.

Trying to contain my excitement, I made a show of resisting recruitment until their threats of locking me up for a decade or longer before asking me again seemed to be serious. Like some of my favorite vid-heroes, I know the value of false perception and putting up a false front. I took to the training like a fish to water, especially the bits about biological warfare. Yes...the other pun was right there but I chose to ignore it anyway. Slapstick may come naturally but being versatile means I can stop any time I want to. Try not to croak.

Two years your vesk overlords trained me, and as reward I even got to work on some of my own cover identities. Little did they know...at least I think they didn't know...that for every one I crafted, there was a second one that I never registered in the Veskarium databases, but kept totally offline until a few minutes after I was smuggled out of the Ghavaniska system and into the Drift on board a cargo ship - right about the time your "secret" transponder you put in my laser pistol's battery receptacle started sending you telemetry information saying I was diving without a permit off the coast of Trafodi, I'd imagine.

Perhaps I only completed half of the DDO's five-year training regime, but I think I learned enough. "Green will always be your color," the recruiter said, but I'm nobody's pawn. I am the master of my own destiny, and as pleasant as the climate on Iji may be, I don't think you'll ever see me here again. I'm off to the Pact Worlds to see if their security is as lax as the Veskarium propaganda claims it is, where I'll eventually become that pirate I always saw myself as.

Assuming you're not spending the rest of your life in one of the dry-cells in Command-2, keep an ear out for me in the news. Maybe you'll hear about me using the name of a guitar player turned-assassin, an obscure eco-film producer, or even using the name of a criminal or pirate from older eras. Who knows - maybe I'll even use a name from a dead language from Lost Golarion for one of my favorite foods.

Oh, yes. I forgot to tell you. This message-recorder will self-destruct in about 5 seconds. Vio Con Dios!!