S.S. Fawkes - CF-142AC


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Monday January 20th, 2020 @ 14:50 hours

Caras Tracyn

Name Caras Tracyn

Position Master-at-Arms

Character Information

Gender Male
Species Angosian
Age 34

Physical Appearance

Height 6'1
Weight 210
Hair Color Black
Eye Color Blue
Physical Description Height: 6'1" or 185-186 centimeters, Weight: 195 lbs - or 88,5 kilo. His eyes are a dull green color. Various scars and marks run down his body from battles past, though the most vicious of them is a slice that runs diagonal down his back, from his shoulder to ribs, from when he almost had his insides exposed to the harsh elements from a downward slice by a rather eager Breen. Beyond the mark of loyalty he has tattooed on his inner forearm, and his goatee, there’s hardly anything that distinguishes him from another soldier.
Distinguishing Marks or Features Tattoo, Scar, Goatee.

Family & Acquaintances

Spouse None
Children None that he knows of
Father Alir Tracyn
Mother Unknown
Siblings None
Other Family and Acquaintances Arlan Tracyn (Grandfather)

Personality & Traits

General Overview Many confuse his good nature and general banter for someone who doesn't posses his various talents. He generally prefers to, when involved in combat, employ a mocking and almost casual air to it, whenever possible. He's found this puts others off their footing and can lead to enemies making mistakes. When not in battle he's content enough to simply live, and no longer seeks out a fight for a fights sake as he may have in his younger days.
Strengths & Weaknesses +A product of his fathers genetic tampering, he posses roughly 1/2 of the strength, speed, and endurance his father does, or did at his prime. Years of training with other security officers, have helped him learn his trade quite well. He's adept at maintaining and fixing most weapons.

-At anything not related to his craft he's hopeless. He's not brainless, but simply never learned much about repairing other things, or the sciences, or piloting beyond getting down in one piece. He's little to no personal connections at the moment, leaving him no one to fall back on if needed.
Ambitions None presently, he mainly lives for the day, though he does squirrel away money for the future.
Quirks & Flaws Chatty, brash, brazen. Has a moral code that he'll live by but won't tell you quite what it is. Loyal to a fault however, if he gives you his word he means it. Burns through quite a lot of calories each day, so is almost always eating on his downtime.
Passions A big fan of bladed weapons of most cultures, he also enjoys Bajoran poetry and foods of just about everywhere.


Personal History Caras was born on Angosia III, to the the Tracyn bloodline. His father named him Caras, after the word for “eternity,” claiming that he could see it in his eyes. Caras’ father was a mechanic by trade, helping to fix and repair things. If he ever had a mother, and he surely must have, he never met her. Caras was brought up by his father and grandfather.

When he was 8 his father attempted to get him interested in fixing things, and though he liked it fine, he enjoyed time with his grandfather more. Caras had found he wasn't...quite like the other children. He didn't get tired as quickly, and could run faster, lift more. When pressed his father said nothing, but his grandfather was more forthcoming. He confided in Caras a story of old soldiers, that his father was once a part of. Specially altered, he had been designed with one purpose in mind. To fight for the Angosian way of life. Various men and women had been subjected to these treatments, though the road to peace was long and hard. His father had kept it from him, in hopes that he could turn his son away from such a life. Caras latched onto these old stories though, and trained with his grandfather (a retired security agent) as much as possible.

At the age of 15, Cara’ father and he had a falling out. There was no great event, no cataclysmic thing, but words were exchange in the heat of a moment, which led to Caras leaving. Perhaps his father figured that he would return after a few days, tired, hungry, and apologetic. Perhaps his father hadn’t really paid enough attention to the child he’d been raising. Making his way down to the space port, with no real relatives besides his father to speak of, he was set upon by some aliens (he’d later learn they were called Naussicans) and put up a decent enough fight, but eventually was rescued by a ship’s security officer. He sort of followed after and when pressed claimed to be an orphan. The woman took pity on him and convinced her captain that an apprentice was needed, an extra set of hands.

His new watcher, Maran, taught him as she would her own, teaching him the joys of life, the fun and seriousness of battle and the simple pleasures in between, such as fried coin crabs and cold ale. She made sure though, that he learned other things, and so he learned to repair (already something he’d leanred from his father) as well as pilot (Not WELL, as Maran often put it.)

At the age of 18, he joined as a full member of the crew. His rise throughout the ranks was neither meteoric nor was it slow. He simply did his job to the best of his abilities, no more and no less. He was seen by many as Maran’s chosen successor, the heir apparent for security head. Though he wanted his own identity, and sought out something new, once again. When he turned 25 he moved on, having been offered a place with a mercenary company that, in hindsight, wasn’t the best move perhaps for him. He did some things he wasn’t proud of, though they always worked on a lawful side, though only just on quite a few occasions.

It took him several years before he realized that quite simply, that wasn’t the life he wanted. It was good money and he’d saved quite a little nest egg, but he was perhaps content to return to Angosia III, make amends, and move on with his life. Which seemed like a good idea right up until he stared at the shuttle to take him home, a word that no longer had much meaning for him. Whatever home was, it certainly wasn’t there anymore.

For about 6 months he wandered, roaming until a friend of a friend of a friend put him on there was a Starship looking for someone with his particular talents.
Service Record 2376-2386 - Security officer SS Dovetail (Various ranks within)
2386-2394 - Member of the Mercenary Group "The Bloody Nine."
2394-2395- Unemployed