Kiko

Kiko :: ?

“I was a child when war broke out. I'm still a child. That's what they did to me."

Attributes

|| Physical d8 || Mental d8 || Social d8 ||

Trained Skills

Fight [d10]

Know [d6]

• Coding Languages [d6]

Move [d8]

Notice [d10]

Operate [d12]

Sneak [d8]

Trick [d10]

Untrained Skills

Craft, Drive, Fix, Fly, Focus, Influence, Labor, Perform, Shoot, Survive, Throw, Treat [All d4]

Distinctions

Government Chassis: [d8] Not everyone who got one of these 'upgrades' was a soldier.

• Step Back: Roll d4 instead of d8 for 1 PP

• Scrapyard Skin: You're tougher than you look. The first time in a scene that you spend a PP to avoid being Taken Out from a physical blow, step back the resulting Complication.

• Head on a Swivel: You are always watching, calculating, assessing options. When you need to get into or out of a situation quick or quiet, spend 1 PP to roll your Notice die and add it to your total on any Move or Sneak roll.

[Highlighted Skills: Fight/Move/Notice]

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Code Monkey [d8] 1011001 010 1011 00100110 10 1101011 011101, dong ma?

• Step Back: Roll d4 instead of d8 for 1 PP

• Ghost in the Machine: Who says you cain't teach old code new tricks? Spend 1 PP to create a [d8] Code Override asset.

• Heavy Handed:Sometimes there just ain't no time to be subtle. Step up or Double Operate for an action. Both 1s and 2s count as jinxes/complications.

[Highlighted Skills: Know/Notice/Operate]

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Slip of a Girl [d8] You're so slight and small folk just don't pay you much mind.

• Step Back: Roll d4 instead of d8 for 1 PP

• Harmless: How much trouble could you possibly be? Step back your Physical die to step up your Social die when convincing someone you’re not a threat.

• Squeeze Through: You are proper tiny, you are. Spend 1 PP to squeeze through spaces that are normally too small for a person.

[Highlighted Skills: Move/Sneak/Trick]

Signature Assets

Bulkhead Shiv [d8] This nasty jagged sliver of ruptured bulkhead is wrapped in heavy tape at the thick end for grip and has been lovingly ground to a fine edge and a wicked point.

Portable Console [d8] This small, light programmer's console folds to fit in a pocket with multiple jacks that make it compatible with nearly any terminal.

Chassis Stabilizers [d6] Your chassis compensates for external irregularities, allowing you to keep your footing in even the most chaotic conditions.

Character Bio

Birth Planet: Londinium || Allegiance: Independent

Height: 157 centimeters (5' 3") || Weight: 52 kilos (115 lbs) || Age: 28 standard years

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I was just a child when the war broke out. To look at me, I still am. That is what they did to me.

The station I grew up on was razed from the black. By all accounts, no one survived. But I survived. And I suspect others did too, though I have never met one. Never met another whose skin was replaced by shaped plates of synthetic polymer, whose bones were invasively reinforced.

I don't know if I've even assessed all they did to me.

I may never know. I was 'programmed' to a certain extent. I could do things I'd never been able to before. But whatever use I was meant to be put to, I was never put to it. I was abandoned dirtside on a little rock in the white system.

Mac attained the rank of corporal in the war, and despite people constantly trying to kill her to death, it had been good for her - siding with the Independents, fighting for folk to be free, learning a skill that had value everywhere in the 'verse. It had given her a place and a purpose in ways her misguided back alley upbringing never had.

But the war had ended. Freedom gave way to an uneasy peace, and life lurched forward again. Mostly in spite of her.

Mac drifted aimless in the aftermath, hopping from planet to planet and station to station, taking odd jobs - many not quite strictly on the legal side of lawful - and generally following after whatever caught her fancy in the moment.

But she was running from ghosts that weren't even chasing her. To be sure, if they ever caught her up, they would demand an accounting - and Mac suspected the simple truth was not going to sit square in that reckoning - but until then she had a life to be about living.

So, she called in every chit she had, and for once things came together smooth. Word in the wind had a transport ship in need of a doc, and Bella Mason, a pilot friend she'd run into from time to time while skirting the left side of lawful, was captaining that transport, and of all the folk in the empty black, gorramn Lazarus Jones was member of the bloody crew.

Mac had lost count of the number of times the old scrounger had come through for them during the war, dumping ammo or rations or medical supplies practically in their laps while they were caught behind lines and official word had no supplies being available. No question, she owed Lazarus her life ten times over if it was once.

And it was her turn to buy the first round.