Post by Grey on Sept 9, 2007 6:45:54 GMT -5
Name: Andrea Sharp
Species: Human
Sex: Female
Age: Unknown
Origin: Kuat
Occupation: First mate, The Pale Sacred
Gifted with a propensity for pressing people's buttons and for small arms, Andrea Sharp is no stranger to combat, verbal and otherwise. She spent years working for a string of high-paying employers involved in various aspects of corporate security, alternately orchestrating and riding out the governmental collapses that have plagued the last several decades. When the Mekhetu incident destroyed the HQ of her last employer, Andrea, stationed at the time in a relatively uninfected outlying system, purloined an escort shuttle and fled with the few assets she could fit aboard before order completely collapsed.
While hopping from system to system, heading ever-coreward, she ran across an old friend and his older vessel--Gale Li-Morgan and The Pale Sacred. Having worked, fought, and (occasionally) slept together a dozen times over the courses of their respective careers, these two, a pair of the most prickly and distant individuals remaining in the galaxy, decided they might as well carry on in each other's company. Their shared appreciation of stunted, emotionally distant relationships and really, really big guns has sustained them through many a firefight and breakdown. They learned early on in their partnership to avoid discussing the past in escessive detail, and how to not plan too far into the future; this delicate, business-like balance keeps morale at a happy medium of guarded apathy at all times.
Andrea's compact, wiry frame and close-cropped shock of silver hair make determining her age difficult--and those who ask generally get a shiny new set of bruises for their trouble. When pressed (and when she's not in a particularly violent mood) she claims to have been born in the years following the Empire's collapse before the New Republic fully coalesced; however, she has a wealth of knowledge about Imperial espionage and military ops which, from time to time, gives Gale cause to wonder.
She has no fondness for children, and has little patience for Cara Li--a tic which she sometimes alleviates during their hand-to-hand combat training sessions. These exercises are more or less compulsory for all members of the crew--a practicality for people doing dangerous work in an increasingly unstable galaxy, but it remains a point of contention among the crew whether Andrea insists upon it because of habits ingrained from her shadowy paramilitary past, or because she just really likes beating the almighty crap out of the ones she loves (but hasn't the guts to come straight out and say so). Regardless, these little interjections of militaristic Law And God-Damned Order into the otherwise prevailing chaos aboard strike just the right chord of hatred in the crew; just enough incentive to fan a tired flame of anitpathy, without sparking full-blown mutiny. True, she only seems to be happy when she's bitter, and Andrea is sour around the clock. Perhaps that warm sunshiney happiness is what has kept a woman of her skills and background hanging around on an esoteric dump like the Sacred (Or "The Pale," as Andrea tends to refer to it) for so long.
Species: Human
Sex: Female
Age: Unknown
Origin: Kuat
Occupation: First mate, The Pale Sacred
Gifted with a propensity for pressing people's buttons and for small arms, Andrea Sharp is no stranger to combat, verbal and otherwise. She spent years working for a string of high-paying employers involved in various aspects of corporate security, alternately orchestrating and riding out the governmental collapses that have plagued the last several decades. When the Mekhetu incident destroyed the HQ of her last employer, Andrea, stationed at the time in a relatively uninfected outlying system, purloined an escort shuttle and fled with the few assets she could fit aboard before order completely collapsed.
While hopping from system to system, heading ever-coreward, she ran across an old friend and his older vessel--Gale Li-Morgan and The Pale Sacred. Having worked, fought, and (occasionally) slept together a dozen times over the courses of their respective careers, these two, a pair of the most prickly and distant individuals remaining in the galaxy, decided they might as well carry on in each other's company. Their shared appreciation of stunted, emotionally distant relationships and really, really big guns has sustained them through many a firefight and breakdown. They learned early on in their partnership to avoid discussing the past in escessive detail, and how to not plan too far into the future; this delicate, business-like balance keeps morale at a happy medium of guarded apathy at all times.
Andrea's compact, wiry frame and close-cropped shock of silver hair make determining her age difficult--and those who ask generally get a shiny new set of bruises for their trouble. When pressed (and when she's not in a particularly violent mood) she claims to have been born in the years following the Empire's collapse before the New Republic fully coalesced; however, she has a wealth of knowledge about Imperial espionage and military ops which, from time to time, gives Gale cause to wonder.
She has no fondness for children, and has little patience for Cara Li--a tic which she sometimes alleviates during their hand-to-hand combat training sessions. These exercises are more or less compulsory for all members of the crew--a practicality for people doing dangerous work in an increasingly unstable galaxy, but it remains a point of contention among the crew whether Andrea insists upon it because of habits ingrained from her shadowy paramilitary past, or because she just really likes beating the almighty crap out of the ones she loves (but hasn't the guts to come straight out and say so). Regardless, these little interjections of militaristic Law And God-Damned Order into the otherwise prevailing chaos aboard strike just the right chord of hatred in the crew; just enough incentive to fan a tired flame of anitpathy, without sparking full-blown mutiny. True, she only seems to be happy when she's bitter, and Andrea is sour around the clock. Perhaps that warm sunshiney happiness is what has kept a woman of her skills and background hanging around on an esoteric dump like the Sacred (Or "The Pale," as Andrea tends to refer to it) for so long.
