Bio Page: Ko'ah

General Callsign: Prince Vega Joined: 2000.04 Skins: Download Squads: Tarazedi Alliance Intro: A Ghost Story History: Thoughts	Personal Name: Shannon Massie Location: Oklahoma Birthdate: ? Email: koah@antipode.cjb.net ICQ number: ? Website: none Forums: Vega's Parlor
Vehicles /

Character information: (Staff Captain Prince Shan idde Vega)

General history

Born 2804, Capital City, Delta Vegae IV (Tarazedi colony world) where he was a prince of one of the main continents. When the planet was bombarded from orbit by the Metagen Cybrids, he managed to escape in a damaged FTL lifepod and reach Earth, where he was rescued by the Tarazedi Alliance. In 2833, while on a mission to the Kuiper belt, his ship was attacked and he was forced to flee sunward in an uncontrolled descent. He managed a collision with Mercury and was shortly recovered by the Ghosts.

Development of abilities

Ko'ah's abilities are largely unknown. It is suspected that he was behind delaying the Ghost Star's supernova, and that he is capable of channeling massive amounts of photonic energy.

Traits

205cm 102kg black/brown, beard Vegan/(Spanish descent), muscular, facial expression normally deceptively inquisitive and relaxed; when angry, has a look of extreme serenity (eyes really the only apparent trait of rage) anger is built up... and before he learned to harness it was usually let out in an explosion of rage at the wrong time... now his anger (after controlled) is deadly and is his greatest weapon. Movements never rigid and rash. Walks very quietly. Hates to be criticized by a 'lesser' peer (or while angry about something...) From an extrasolar planet, where he was a military leader. It is known that he is proficient in the Tarazedi mental Disciplines, especially those related to the martial arts.

Character study

He awakened abruptly, not to escape the nightmares but to prevent them. His world had been destroyed. He had escaped. And he still bore the guilt from that.

"Remove dissonance," he told himself, slipping into the mental discipline routine all warriors of his world learned before they learned to wield a sword. His mind obeyed his command, more readily than usual, for which he breathed a sigh of relief.

Usually he had to fight fierce resistance to restore himself to a level-headed, calm state. And he still had problems controlling anger. Lately he had decided not to even try supressing it; rather he stored it for future use. Cybrids did not want to encounter him when he had been pissed off.

He got out of bed, slowly, maintaining his control as he checked the computer link to Ops for his assignments. As usual, he was not scheduled in Ops until the graveyard shift (heh), taking advantage of his interesting circadian rhythms. His day was booked up: Del had given him inspection duty again, and he had to get that damned Banshee back online, and the bartender had buzzed him to ask him to swipe some grapes from Del's garden.

He grinned wickedly at that thought. Del would be steamed...

He grabbed his weapons' belt from the hook on the wall, checking the power levels, locking mechanisms, fasteners, and cleanliness of the empistol, the laser, and the shotgun, then slipping the sword out of the sheath. It came out smoothly, without even the slightest friction. He slipped the sword back in, satisfied. He was combat-ready, at least physically.

He inspected his mind, nodded sharply to his reflection in the mirror. His mind was battle-ready too. "Let the day begin," he said, and walked briskly out the door.