About Sydney Jordan
A young woman wearing a tight, white shirt that reads “Star Sugar Heartlove!!!,” black pleather pants, and knee-high neon pink boots strolls down the ship bay. She admires the various ships, getting close enough to place her hand on a ship’s turret. ”Do you want me to pilot you, baby?” she whispers to the ship. She walks along the ship’s side and ducks her head under the wing to examine the rear thrusters. You can’t get as good of a turn radius with that outdated thing. She runs a hand through her neon orange pixie cut. Durn nice ship, though.
”Whadda think yur doin’?” She turns to see a stout man wearing blue jumpsuit approach. She plasters on a smile and throws a thumb over her shoulder: ”Is this your ship?”
The man with the country twang in his voice critically eyes her brightly colored hair and boots. ”Yers. And I would ‘preciate it if yur kind don’t get too close to ol’ Ah - ki - ton Ran - ger.” He pronounces each syllable in “Akiton Ranger” as if they were each their own word. The man talks with the side of his mouth, his teeth the same shade as the dull mustard stain on his jumpsuit collar.
The young woman moves to stuff her hands in her jacket pockets, but remembers she left it laying over a crate. With nowhere to stick her hands, she crosses her arms over her chest: ”Hey man, I was just looking. I don’t know what you’re thinking but I’m not that kind of person.” She brushes past the older man and picks up her black pleather jacket, and shrugs it on. Red letters, peeling from age, curve in an arch over the shoulder blades, spelling “RELENTLESS.”
As she’s walking away, a look of realization crosses the man’s face: ”Hey! I kno’ you! You was in that pod race a while back.” He thinks for a moment, before calling after her: ”Sydney Jordan!" Sid stops and turns back to grin at him, hands in her jacket pockets: ”yeah, that’s me.”
Interests/Hobbies: Going to concerts, dying hair crazy colors, reading starship magazines, pod racing
Favorite food: Anything spicy.
Family: None (orphan) Also a character flaw.
Life Goals: Explore space and pilot the biggest, most bada$$ ship there is.
For Combat Botting:
Liquidator Disintegration Pistol
[dice=To hit (Disintegration pistol, liquidator)]1d20 + 10[/dice] Acid. Critical -)
(+4 BAB)(+5 Dex mod)(+1 Weapon Specialization)
[dice=Trick Attack (Acrobatics)]1d20 + 20[/dice] DC is equal to 20 + the target’s CR
If DC passes, Sydney deals 3d8 additional damage (level 5) and the target is flat-footed.
[dice=Damage (Disintegration pistol, liquidator)]1d10 +3[/dice] Add 1/2 Level to dmg see Weapon Specialization. Acid.
[dice=Trick Attack Bonus Damage]3d8[/dice]
Static Arc Pistol
Corona Laser Pistol
Movement: 30 (+10 Quick Movement) = 40 feet
HP: (+4 Human)(+6 Operative @ each level)(+1 Con mod) = 41
D-Suit I: 2,980 credits, +5 EAC bonus, +6 KAC bonus, +5 max Dex, 1 upgrade slot, L bulk