About Fianh JinFemale Human Daredevil Operative (Ace Pilot) 2 LN Medium Humanoid (human) Init +5; Perception +6, Darkvision 12 metrons ====================
HP 16 (Human 4, Operative 12); Stamina 14 (Operative 12, Con 2); Resolve 5 (Operative 2, Dex 4);
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BAB +1
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Str +0.5; Dex +4; Con +1; Int +1; Wis +0; Cha +0;
SKILLS (12/level: Operative 8, Human 1, Int 1, Specialisation 2*) *Acrobatics 12 (2 ranks, 4 Dex, 3 Class, 3 Skill Focus)
ABILITIES Theme Knowledge: You are obsessed with starships and vehicles, and have committed to memory almost every related tidbit of knowledge you’ve ever come across. Reduce the DC of Culture checks to recall knowledge about starship and vehicle models and parts as well as famous hotshot pilots by 5. Piloting is a class skill for you, though if it is a class skill from the class you take at 1st level, you instead gain a +1 bonus to your Piloting checks. Operative’s Edge: Your diverse training as an operative grants you a +1 insight bonus to initiative checks and to skill checks. This bonus increases by 1 at 3rd level and every 4 levels thereafter. Specialisation: Your specialization represents your primary area of expertise. Pick one specialization upon taking your 1st level of the operative class (Daredevil). Your specialization grants you the Skill Focus feat in your specialization’s associated skills (Acrobatics and Athletics), and you gain a free skill rank in each of those skills at each operative level (this does not allow you to exceed the maximum number of skill ranks in a single skill). Trick Attack: You can trick or startle a foe and then attack when she drops her guard. As a full action, you can move up to your speed. Whether or not you moved, you can then make an attack with a melee weapon with the operative special property or with any small arm. Just before making your attack, attempt a Bluff, Intimidate, or Stealth check (or a check associated with your specialization: you can attempt an Acrobatics check to make a trick attack) with a DC equal to 20 + your target’s CR. If you succeed at the check, you deal 1d4 additional damage and the target is flat-footed. This damage increases to 1d8 at 3rd level, to 3d8 at 5th level, and by an additional 1d8 every 2 levels thereafter. You can’t use this ability with a weapon that has the unwieldy special property or that requires a full action to make a single attack. Inscrutable on Land: Other than those who know you the best you are incredibly hard to get a read on. DCs for Sense Motive on you are +2 higher than normal. If you're behind the controls of a ship though DCs for Sense Motive are 5 lower than normal Evasion: If you succeed at a Reflex save against an effect that normally has a partial effect on a successful save, you instead suffer no effect. You gain this benefit only when unencumbered and wearing light armor or no armor, and you lose the benefit when you are helpless or otherwise unable to move. 2nd lvl Exploit - Field Treatment: You can take 1 minute to tend your wounds and spend 1 Resolve Point to recover a number of Hit Points equal to three times your operative level. FEATS & PROFICIENCIES Class Feats/Proficiencies Light Armour Proficiency
Other Feats Lvl 1 feat: Weapon Focus (Small Arms)
WEAPONS/ARMOUR Second Skin (250 credits, Bulk L, EAC +1, KAC +2, 1 Upgrade slot)
Survival knife (98 credits, Bulk L, d4 S, Analog, Operative) Tactical semi-auto pistol (260 credits, Bulk L, d6 P, 30 ft, 9 round capacity, Analog) OTHER GEAR (73 credits remaining) 30 cartridges, small arm (40 credits, Bulk L) Personal comm-unit (7 credits, Bulk L)
The Story so Far:
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“Do you know why you are here?” I remain kneeling in the traditional posture: forehead pressed firmly into the expensive carpet, arms stretched out, palms down, in front of me. A thousand possible answers run through my head: good excuses, bad excuses, pleas for mercy; I mentally wave them away. No. If I am to die, I will not go before the Oni having angered them with cowardice. Besides, my mouth is too dry for anything except a simple answer: “Yes, Nikkura-san.” Damn. My voice is a hollow whisper. “You have nothing to say for yourself?” He sounds mildly surprised – and amused. “The ashigaru I sent reports that were most vocal about where he could stick the money he was to pay you for throwing the race – and that you cut him with a knife when he wouldn’t leave.” I say nothing. It is true, after all; denying it would be pointless. Also, stupid. Almost as stupid as attacking one of Nikkura-san’s errand-boys. The voice continues. “You race well, they tell me; excellently, in fact. You were a favourite to win. Coming in third would have made you very, very, wealthy.” This time I raise my head, looking him straight in the eye. “I race to win, Oji-ma.” My prince. “Anything less would anger the Oni.” He smiles, even white teeth flashing in a youthful grin, and I blink in surprise. He’s younger than I expected. Much younger. Barely older than me. His clothing is sharp, expensive, but modern. “I am not a prince. At least, not yet. You follow the Old Ways, then. Tell me of the Oni.” I do. I can no more not tell him than I can disobey gravity: his eyes lock with mine, holding me, seeing all there is to see. I tell him of the Oni, the demons that seek to devour each of us, and how they must be fed; that I feed them by throwing myself at death, over and over, that the exhilaration and terror nourishes them, that as long as they are kept fat and happy, they will bless me. In my nai-nai’s hut, surrounded by the shrines, the icons, the idols, it made perfect sense; here, surrounded by chrome and glass, it sounds like the ravings of an illiterate peasant. Yet still, I believe. Eventually I fall silent. The next question comes out of nowhere: “You have been seeking to join the… Fellowship, have you not? For quite some time, I understand. But nobody would accept you, fools that they are.” He waves at me impatiently. “Oh, do get up. I’m not going to execute you. I’m offering to be your sponsor into the Fellowship. I need gifted pilots, after all.” My jaw drops open. I close it. I open it again. “Nikkura-san, I-” He interrupts me with another glowing smile. “Please. My allies in the Fellowship call me Nikki. Unless it is a very formal occasion.” ================
The hoverbike was never meant to go this fast, or make turns that sharp; the grav-motor whines, threatening to burn out. I grin. This is where I belong, where the gap between life and death is indivisibly small, where every lurch and thrill is meat and drink to the lurking Oni… I send them a fleeting thought: Keep me alive, and I’ll keep you fed! The air around me is split by gunfire: the three SecuriBots chasing me are catching up. I frown with disappointment: only three? Not much of a challenge. I have run this route dozens of times in my head, and up ahead is where I can lose them- The limo appears out of nowhere, a hundred yards dead ahead, as its stealth field evaporates. A window opens and a gun pokes out. Serious hardware. I don’t recognise it. Behind it, Nikki’s face, sighting down the barrel, winks at me, flashing that trademark smile of his and a single word: “Duck.” I’m no more than 10 metrons above the ground: if I go into a dive with the grav-motor in this state, I won’t recover in time. I pull up instead, missing the limo by no more than a lick of paint, yawing into a loop-the-loop, watching as Nikki’s gun opens up beneath me, the destructive autofire tearing the SecuriBots apart in seconds. I’m in the descent from the loop when the grav-motor finally sparks out, turning the machine into dead weight. I let it go and it plummets beneath me as I activate the ’chute, and Nikki reaches out from the limo and grabs me as I tumble past, bundling me inside, and I laugh, out of breath, ribs bruised, but alive, so, so alive… Nikki allows himself a satisfied nod as the limo drives us to safety. “I have news. Business is good. I’ve acquired another ’ship.” Wait – a Starship?! “The Far Star. She’s a small thing, but she’ll carry the packages I need delivered off-world. It’s dangerous work, but I assume you’ll accept?” I grin with delight, shrugging off my top before fumbling with my belt. “Help me out of these and I’ll show you how much I accept...” Such intimacy with one’s superior is dangerous. But that’s part of the fun. Besides, the Oni aren’t the only ones with appetites. ==================
My descent in the Far Star is violently resisted: re-entry is a battle between my skill, my ship, and the planet’s gravity and atmosphere. Alarms blare as I fight to stay awake, with the G-forces involved almost knocking me out, sending me spiralling helplessly down to a fiery death. Almost. And in that almost, the Oni feed. There’s no emergency: this is just how I prefer to land. I spot the landing pad and make a perfect 3-point touchdown, springing the cockpit canopy open and sliding out with a grin on my face- -which promptly evaporates at Nikki’s expression. And that of Shotokayo-san, his bumptious little secretary. We have a history, him and me – and not a good one: a few months back he seemed to think he could help himself to anything that belonged to his boss. Including me. I disagreed, strongly. Now Shotokayo looks smug, and Nikki… Nikki looks blank. My stomach lurches with dread. “Wh-what’s wrong?” Nikki doesn’t answer, he just stares at me, unblinking. Shotokayo’s greasy voice pipes up: “It seems, Dearest Child, that the crates you just delivered were empty when opened. Making Nikkura-san look like he has reneged on an agreement.” Another time, I’d make him pay for that ‘Dearest Child’ crack. But I let it pass, in my confusion. “That’s not possible.” I state it as flatly as possible, although my brain is whirring. “I loaded those crates myself, and they were sealed. Nobody touched them since.” Shotokayo-san almost purrs with satisfaction. “I’m so glad you grasp the realities of the situation, Dearest Child. So. To whom did you sell them, and for how long have you been betraying Nikkura-san?” I look at Nikki, helplessly. I have a code: I don’t take what isn’t mine, and I don’t backstab those who are loyal to me. There’s more, but that’s the important bit right now. His face gives nothing away. I am on my own. Time to think. “Wait. Wait. Those crates were sealed – they could have been empty when I loaded them! Who sealed them?” I see the spark of something in Shotokayo’s sallow face and I jump to a conclusion. “You! You did – and we both know already that you have difficulty keeping your filthy hands off our boss’s belongings...” His face creases with fury: “You little b#@#&!” A cruel-hooked knife gleams in his hand. “I’ll cut the truth out of you: you jockeys aren’t so tough outside your machines-” He looks down in astonishment as the first shot tears into his gut; a second swiftly follows it and he collapses to the ground. The pistol seemed to leap into my hand of its own accord, and now it pivots to point straight at- “Nikkura-san.” I haven’t called him that for a long time. But it seems appropriate somehow. I try to keep my voice and face steady. Another part of my code is that I don’t shoot people who aren’t armed and able to defend themselves (especially – even? – if they’re my sponsor/sometime bedmate/it’s complicated), but if he sees through my bluff and calls the guards, I’m dead. He gives that smile of his, and looks straight through me. I can’t fool him, not for a moment. But – to my astonishment – he puts his hands behind his head, and kneels. I could live a thousand, thousand lifetimes and never understand that man. The gun falls out of my trembling hand, and he rolls his eyes. “Oh, do pick that up. You’ll need it. Space is not a friendly place for the loner. Now, you’ll have to sell the Far Star obviously, once you get to safety. But I’ve grown rather fond of her and I’d prefer you not to sell her for parts. Or scrap.” He looks at me, and smiles once again. “You need to get moving: I’m sure someone heard those shots and is on their way here. Be safe, Fi-hana.” My flower. “May you keep your Oni happy and fed.” I will never understand that man. But I take his advice. It’s the best. ==================
I didn’t get much for the ship on the black market – it was obviously stolen – and what credits I earned were spent making connections, seeing who wants a pilot. I have no credentials: I can’t exactly admit I spent the last three years driving for the yakuza, the Fellowship. The Starfinder Society is my last hope, but even they are barely returning my calls. Finally, today, my comm-link pings: there may be an opening. I’m to go to Absalom Station and meet a dwarf named Duravor Kreel. I have little choice in the matter.
Of Books & Covers:
Fianh (pronounced "fee-ONG" with the emphasis on the last syllable; also known as ‘Fi’) is of just below middling height for a Tian, which makes her considerably shorter than most people she encounters. This, together with her features and her long, straight, jet-black hair make her ancestry unmistakable. Among people she doesn't know, Fianh keeps her daredevil attitude and speech repressed, confining herself to an inner monologue – more of which is expressed on her face than perhaps she realises; although among strangers she tries to play up to the 'inscrutable Tian' stereotype, saying very little while noting everything. Plus, she has learned that being short and outspoken means you get called 'feisty' - a word that makes her want to release the safety catch on her Mitsuyoba heavy pistol. However reserved Fi has learned to be in her speech, her actions are still those of the irrepressible daredevil. The Oni are ever-hungry, after all. Faces Past & Present:
Nikkura - A man who plays 3-dimensional chess in a galaxy where everyone else seems to be playing checkers, Nikki is now a daimyo in the Fellowship, the youngest to make that title in over ten generations. He let Fi go partly out of sentiment, because she wasn't guilty - but mostly because he never removes a piece from the board unless he's sure it is of no further value. Shotokayo - Fi was correct in her guess: Shotokayo was indeed responsible. His attempt to frame Fi out of spite backfired badly. He was allowed to live because he was in the pay of a rival daimyo; Nikkura extracted a number of highly advantageous concessions in exchange for letting Shotokayo go, but not before removing both the little fingers of his hands (the traditional Fellowship penalty). Unwilling to return to his boss carrying these marks of shame, Shotokayo has slunk away to the Diaspora, where he has quickly become a lieutenant of one of the more unsavoury Free Captains. He harbours a festering grudge against Fi, blaming her rather than his own actions. Gorsen - Fi’s contact in the Diaspora, Gorsen is a Kasatha fixer with many fingers in many pies - when his four arms aren’t draped around one of his many ‘companions’ (of varying race and gender: Gorsen is very undiscriminating). He has provided Fi with a number of crappy package runs, but has leeringly suggested that she is unlikely to get better jobs since she has no reputation to speak of, although he (grudgingly) admits her talent for piloting. Fi makes a point of having one hand on the butt of her pistol when she meets with him, just to make sure that nobody gets any silly ideas. |
