Intro post: Captain Beka Valentine, not exactly at your service

Captain Beka Valentine of the Eureka Maru, not exactly at your service.
Y'see, I'm also second-in-command on the sentient warship, the Andromeda Ascendant, chasing the hopeless cause of restoring the Systems Commonwealth.

I've never been one for causes or ideals. Do the job, pay Dad's debts, stay out of lock-up, keep looking for the next big score -- not that I had much luck with the big score part before I found my good luck charm, y'know, the purple plant-loving girl, Trance Gemini. I'm still not sure she's not responsible for the double-crossing rat-bastard Gerentex setting us on the trail of the Andromeda Ascendant, and one of these days she's going to tell me how she did that not-dying trick. Hell of a lot handier than going to all the trouble of faking your own death, like Sid.

Anyhow, where was I? Right, tilting at windmills. Bobby always said that everyone had a cause. The only question was whether you picked it, or it picked you. This one definitely picked me, but it has its advantages -- flying Slip in one of the fastest, most powerful ships ever built not least among them. It beats the hell out of not knowing where the credits are coming from to feed the crew, too. I think it's a fool's dream, but it's put a smile on Rev's face (even if Magog were definitely not made for smiling). He hasn't had to whack my moral compass for a while either.

The head fool in this little drama mission, quest...thing is High Guard Captain Dylan Hunt. Tyr Anasazi out of Victoria by Barbarossa, thank you very much, seems determined to claim that title, though he's no fool, and exactly the kind of man that gets me in trouble. Every. Single. Time. Rommie, the ship's avatar, might actually hold us all in check...if it weren't for my little genius, Seamus Zelazny Harper, who has a magic touch with all things mechanical and an unhealthy love of Sparky Cola. Together, the seven of us yes, the Gilligan's Island parallel has occurred to me work to rekindle the hope of the galaxies after the Long Night.

But don't let all that fool you. I'm still a thief, still making it on my wits, still the best Slip-pilot the galaxies have seen since the Commonwealth. If there's trouble, I'll find it. If you're hot, I'm interested. If you're my friend, there's nothing I won't do for you.

Oh, and one more thing. To quote one of my favorite horror writers from Old Earth: "Hope is a lying bitch." Don't forget that. Live for today. Anything else will kill you very very dead.


[ooc: always up for chat, in fandom or out, skiffy or otherwise.]