Name: Hamilton Locke
Age: 37
Gender: Male
Role: Bionic Juggernaut
Skills: Firearms (all types), Melee (all common types), Intimidation, Murder.
Backstory: Hamilton Locke was born on Valdosta Station, the first permanent space station established in the frontier system of Septimus Majoris, a large star with several mineral-rich, uncolonized planets orbiting it. Suffice to say, within a few years, team after team of mercenaries, scientists, and less than scrupulous characters looking for an out-of-the-way system were positively swarming the station and the surrounding planets. It wasn't a place for the faint of heart, weak of body, or slow on the draw. Thankfully, Locke turned out to be the exact opposite of all three of these.
He joined his first merc expedition when he was fifteen years old, trekking out with a group of men and women looking to construct an outpost on one of the nearer, smaller worlds before anyone else. It was on this trip that Locke killed his first man, or, first seven or eight, to be exact. The element of surprise and a high rate-of-fire gun sure can fill in a lot for experience, and once he ran out, most everyone on the rival team was dead or dying. He sped along those just dying with liberal application of hands-to-throat, and, if you ask him, that's when he was really born.
Locke participated in countless expeditions after this, making somewhat of a name for himself as a man who doesn't turn his head at less than clean work, a fine soldier when he needed to be and an absolute monster if he was being paid to be one. As the worlds around Septimus Majoris developed a bit more, he used what money he had to 'borg himself up, finding that there was little else to spend his money on. After a few years, he was hardly recognizable, so full of backwater bionics and implants that wires poked out of his skin at the joints, and he could scarcely be called human anymore.
Pretty soon, he was leading expeditions, not joining them, a bionic juggernaut colonizing world after world for shadier and shadier employers, and killing anyone who said otherwise, as long as the price was right. After a while, he found that there weren't anymore worlds to colonize in his home system, and, feeling no particular attachment, and aching for freedom, for more frontier worlds where law and civilization can't confine the beast hiding within every human, he left his home.
And thus, he signed up to the next ship he saw heading out into the cosmos, eager for more plunder and more action in the name of human expansion, as long as the price is right.
Equipment
Weapons
-A mag-pistol, a bulky, powerful handgun firing magnetically-accelerated flechettes manufactured with integral power supplies, meaning nothing's required to shoot it but the ammo and the gun. It's also near-silent, thanks to its firing mechanism.
-A mag-rifle, the beefed up version of its smaller cousin. It's more accurate, and hits harder, but is obviously more annoying to lug around, and harder to conceal.
-A plasma projector, a cumbersome rifle firing magnetically-shaped charges of superheated plasma. They dissipate at shorter ranges compared to lasers, but they're unaffected by particulate matter and tend to leave far more grievous wounds.
-A "void carbine," a sleek little rifle designed for ease of use and reliability in zero-g environments. It fires specialized gyrojet rounds, essentially mini-rockets, which won't penetrate ordinary ship equipment plating, yet still reliably kill people when reasonably placed.
-A short, three-round-burst-fire combat shotgun, plain old ballistic weaponry. It's inaccurate from the shortened barrel and stock and the nature of the ammo, but after all these years it's still almost unmatched at killing a bunch of people in close quarters.
-Locke's gloves are packed with powdered steel in strong pouches on each knuckle. Thanks to this, and his enormous size, he's pretty good at knocking people the fuck out, should it be required of him.
-A few cases of good old standard shrapnel grenades. They still work well, packing a real punch.
Armor
-An enormous duster-style coat, composed of a metaplast overlay on sintered microceramic plates. It absorbs impacts, thermal shocks, and shearing blows very well, while being substantially lighter than most woven body armor.
-A sturdy helmet of strong ballistic material and thermal shock dampener. It's pretty reliable.
-A mouth-covering filter mask, for breathing in toxic atmospheres, or oxygen-low environments, as long as you're not in the middle of space. Also useful in case of poison gas attacks and riot control spray.
-An old-fashioned, wide-brimmed "cowboy" hat, synonymous with the frontier and human expansion, and thus perfect for a man like Locke. He wears it like a badge of office, when he's not using his helmet.
Other stuff
-Hydraulic muscle enhancers installed into most major muscles (biceps, calves, thighs, abdominals, etc.), giving Locke quite a bit of force behind his physical escapades.
-An aim-enhancing apparatus installed in Locke's eyes and hands, giving him increased reaction times, steadiness, target identification, and quick draw capabilities.
-A mess of wires and a microphone in the center of a partially-healed mess of scars in Locke's throat. Seemingly, he took a serious hit there, and the device serves as a replacement voice to his damaged vocal cords. It's rather old and dinky, meaning Locke's voice randomly rises and lowers drastically in pitch, sometimes clogs over with static, and, other times, makes it sound like a few people are saying the same thing at once through a shitty AM radio. Suffice to say, it makes him sound scary.
-A large, old-fashioned leather suitcase. Inside, you find your average toolbox's worth of items, with a few extras. Pliers, saws of various sizes, an awl, a few good hammers, a hand drill, and some small knives and scalpels, the like. It's probably not best to wonder what the purpose of this is.
-Another suitcase of a similar type, if a bit smaller. Within it, Locke keeps a large assortment of semi-legal narcotics. New synthetic designer drugs, stuff mimicking earthly narcotics, only made with alien materials and is thus treated differently, things chemically similar yet different enough for there to be no law against it for now, etc., etc. Amphetamines, opiates, LSD-derivatives, dried psychedelic plants, the like. Most of them will be illegal/legal yet taxed by the UTA within a few months, but by then, Locke'll have new ones. Deep space can be boring, and Locke's not the type of guy to handle boredom easily. These probably aren't helping his already-shaky grip on sanity.
Stats:
Melee Skill: 45 (How good you can swing a sword or a chair)
Ballistic Skill: 45 (How good you can shoot, or throw things)
Strength: 50(How strong you are.)
Toughness: 50 (How well you ignore pain, poison, etc. etc. Also slightly affects hitpoints, though I will intentionally not touch on how damage works too much unless you guys insist.)
Agility: 25 (How quick you are, as well as how good your reflexes are)
Intelligence: 25 (How smart you are, how much random trivia you know, reasoning skills, etc. etc.)
Perception: 25 (How well you perceive things around you, like dildos that have been left out, blips on sensors, ambushes)
Willpower: 35 (How well you resist mind altering effects, and fear. Space can be a terrifying place, what with all the unknowns and shit)
Charm: 25 (How well you get along with other people)
Just so it's known, the aim bionic, in my opinion, would basically increase Locke's Agility and Perception stats a good amount, but only when it comes to drawing weapons, shooting people, and the like.
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