Resonance of the Stars: Sonarqan Freedom Coalition Roster

The files below contain the dossiers of leaders of the New Sonarqan Freedom Coalition, and all other known Resonark Handlers within their ranks. These files are top secret and must be guarded with the utmost security, for the eyes of Rank Omega Security Clearance or above ONLY.

Name: Lucas Daniel Wynne
Code: Alpha-I
Rank: Lieutenant
Age: 22 (as of original archived files)
Designation: Commanding Officer, Tactical Specialist, Public Liaison
Resonark: Xanderfall
Height: 6'0
Weight: 165 lbs
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Dark Blue
Build: Lean, toned
Skin Tone: Light tan
Identifying Physical Markers: Several small burns and scars across forehead and surrounding eyes, requires glasses.
Powers: Currently unknown. Lieutenant Wynne seems to hold a deep connection with his resonark, perhaps suggesting a sort of psychic link that extends to analytic prowess.
Psychological Profile: Lieutenant Wynne appears to be a calm, composed, and effective soldier, able to take command of a situation and build a solution in moments. His conscience, morals, ethics and good character as a person are as unquestionable as his dedication to the cause of revolution, placing his team and their safety above his every need. However, given his history with the Order, it appears his fury is an untested variable. Possibly a result of Post-traumatic stress, Wynne's temper appears to be almost unrivaled within the Coalition once it is actually unleashed, exhibiting such issues as blackout rage incidents in the past, however these appear to be few and far between, with little to no recollection of the events once he recovers. A full psychiatric workup would be recommended to ensure continued mental stability, however subject appears to pose no threat to the organization and is given a clean bill of health to continue service.
Documented Background: Wynne's family life appears to be a missing fragment of information, with almost no records on his parents able to be located. Appearing to be a simple boy on a salvage planet, Eden XIII, Wynne intolerance for wrongdoing led to several fights as a child, which only grew worse as occupation of his planet became more direct. Once his home was lain to siege by Order officials and his parents killed, Wynne displayed the first signs of connection to a Resonark, and fled the planet in search of vengeance. Taken in by the Coalition at age 19, Wynne is one of the organization's first Resonark Handlers, and inspired the Commanders to form the Alpha Initiative, taking the first steps to bring about a strike force of Resonarks that would be able to stand against the Order of the Crimson Forge and their armadas. Wynne is a soldier of tested loyalty and determination, and will make a fine leader in years to come as a future commanding officer of the Coalition. (Taken from Old Coalition Archives)

Name: Arkon Umbric
Code: None as of yet
Rank: Prince of Dezziar
Age: 24
Designation: None as of yet
Resonark: Nephilum
Height: 6'4
Weight: 175 lbs
Hair: black hair that is spiked in the front that eventually turns into being slicked back the further back on the head you go.
Eyes: His iris and the whites of his eyes are pitch black except for his pupils which are bright white. 
Build: toned
Skin Tone: Pale due to his planets lack of sunlight
Defining Traits: Dark Vison- due to the lack of sunlight on his planet Arkon see's very well even in pitch black, however he also due to that has to wear custom sunglasses at all times to filter out sunlight because sunlight would be incredibly painful and would be blind in even an earth like sun light. 
                              Enhanced Gravity-His planet also has 10x earths gravity naturally and thus is a bit stronger and faster than the average earth bred human but not terribly stronger.
Powers: Telekinesis, psychic bond with Nephilum
Psychological Profile: eccentric is the only word to describe Arkon. Laid back and aloof he seems to always be in a good mood, be it just sitting on his own talking to nephilum, or in the heat of battle, he rarely loses his cool, but that doesn't mean he is a push over. He might be leagues better then his father in the moral compass but he can be cruel and calculating when he needs to be. To say the boy is insane is debatable, though his genius IQ has a habbit of showing at the most odd times in the oddest ways. That being said he clearly down plays his intelligence level and can often be found pushing peoples buttons he knows very well that he should not be pushing.
Documented Background: Arkon was born the prince of the dark world of Dezziar to the ruling tyrant Arkam Umbric and his wife. From the moment he was born he was born to be the heir to the throne and was groomed to act as such, till around 5 or 6 years old where his natural gift of telekinesis finally manifested in the boy. From that day forth his father began to focus all of Arkon's free time into training his gift in the hope to eventually weaponize him against other planets who relied more heavily on technology and mech's to defend them selves. Once Arkon was 12 when he hit puberty his father decided he wanted to test the boy so he threw him into the dense uninhabited jungle that held wild life far too dangerous to even attempt to settle there to see if he could survive there on his own for a year. If the boy did not make it, then he would not have been useful as a weapon and would just have to father another heir for his planet. Luckily for the child, he did survive, but not only through the telekinesis his father had sent him there to test. With in the first few days the creatures tried to kill him for food and upon receiving normally fatal wounds he blacked out and Nephilum emerged and due to his enraged state, destroyed much of the dense jungle. After he returned from his training he thought it best to hide his new found “friend” from people. Shortly after his father joined up with the Order and upon analyzing the situation he decided one day he just did not want any part of it. So he stole a fair chunk of funds and his fathers flag ship and left the planet and hasn't returned since. Since then he has been a wanted man so he could be returned to his father and has spent his time taking what pot shots he could at the order on his own.


arkons tattoo link to Nephilum


arkons appearance

Name: Kyuba Genrei
Code: Alpha III
Rank: High Father Kyuba Genrei
Age: 26
Designation: NCO Resistance Army, Commander of the Hellion Contingency
Resonark: Kiri'Tas
Height: 6'1
Weight: 175 lbs
Hair: Long silver hair
Eyes: Crimson 
Build: toned
Skin Tone: Pale and gaunt like a skull, skin bleached white like a bone.
Defining Traits:  
                            Cult of Shiira: Kyuba is a high father in the Church of the goddess of death Shiira. His fanatical worship of the goddess leads him to dreams of bringing death and destruction to the entire galaxy. 
                             Hellion Contingency: Kyuba is the commander of the Hellion contingency, a group of death priests marked by the goddess fated to die on the field of battle or by the hand of their Commander. As the Commander Kyuba commands total control of his men who are all too willing to serve the goddess with their lives. Any who do step out of line are burned alive by the mark which binds them. 
Powers: Rage, ability to summon limited amounts of void energy,  church rituals
Psychological Profile: It is the personal and professional opinion of several psychological professionals that Kyuba Genrei is a Psychotic sociopath. His penchant for wholesale slaughter seems to be birthed from desires on a carnal level. Where most beings have a drive to reproduce and create new life, Kyuba Genrei is possessed of need to end life for all around him. Despite several letters of condemnation, including more than one by the person writing this report, resistance command refuses to acknowledge the danger this man represents. We may at least rest a little easier knowing he is on this side of the resistance....for now. 
Documented Background: Kyuba was born on a world inhabited mostly by farmers. In fact 80% of the dry land of the planet is covered in Lytrium fields. Lytrium is a type of plant that induces hallucinations from the imbiber, often used in church rituals. As a child Kyuba was marked for entry into the church. On the day of his birth High Father Seradas Teranos predicted that one day his father would give the boy willingly to the church, which he did seven years later. Kyuba's early life was a quiet one. He never smiled laughed or showed any emotion making life very difficult for his Father who simply could not make an emotional connection to him, that is until he gave him a puppy. Kyuba sparked to life when the puppy was around, he laughed and played always sneaking off into the woods to explore as his father assumed. The details are not clear but it is reported that on the day he was given to the church Kyuba's father committed ritual suicide. From there Kyuba rose in the ranks of the church killing his way to his current position. He joined the resistance as a supplemental volunteer fighter on loan from the church soon after his resonark took form.

Name: Zarina
Nicknames: Zar or Rina.
Age: Twenty
Height: 5’3”
Build: Curvy
Hair: Pink (To mid-lower back)
Eyes: Topaz Blue (On her planet, everyone has jewel toned eyes of some color)
Skin Tone: Tan
Tattoos/Scars: Tattoo of a rose on her left calf, and tattoo of phoenix between her shoulder blades. Any Scars are unknown at this time.
Abilities: Due to her home planet being of a particularly high gravity, is stronger and faster then usual, able to work with mech foot (with some difficulty) and anything lighter without equipment. (x57 Earth’s Gravity)
Occupation: Mechanic/Pilot
Personality: Despite her life, Zarina isn’t a pessimist. She considers herself a realist. Shit happens, pick yourself up and dust yourself off, and make the decisions you need to, keep pushing. That being said, she isn’t about to kick someone to the curb for needing someone to lean on. She can be sweet, even if she has a tendency to swear a lot and be a little rough around the edges. Don’t mess with her mechs, she can threaten that person with a wrench or something else in her equipment if in the mood. She has no problem lending a hand in the medical area, and is known to fly any ship asked with relish, she’s just happiest in her repair bay. In fact, she probably falls asleep there more often then not. While she has no problem getting dirty and covered in grease, oil, or blood (if she’s helping in medical) she does shower often, at least once a day, when she can manage it.
Backstory: On the backstreets and in the dark seedy alleyways of Raylicon, one little girl was born into the world. She was not destined to save the world single-handedly, find the cure for deadly diseases, or pave the way for universal peace. In fact, most would say that the small squalling infant was meant to do nothing but die, something people, especially newborns, did every day. Things were a set way in Raylicon, and that way had not been messed with for hundreds of thousands of years. The rich were rich; the poor were starving and often kicked further into the gutter, and never were the two supposed to meet. There were no in betweens, there were only haves, and have not’s. Every city was divided neatly between the two, and everyone knew that wouldn’t change. It hadn’t changed even when the Order had taken over, and that was the way most liked it. No one wanted to mess with the balance, even those who were utterly miserable in their wretched existences.
 
That was the world Zarina was born into. That was the world that would attempt to kick her down time and again, beat her until she couldn’t see or move, and shove crap repeatedly down her throat in an attempt to make her accept the status quo. For while Zarina was perfectly normal in the way most Raylicons were, no physical or mental birth defects, she was different in one highly crucial way. She was not content to stay in the gutter and keep her eyes downcast. Instead, Zarina looked to the stars as often as she could, and the promise to take her away from this life.
 
And Life was determined to knock that desire that spark, fire, and fight, from the girl. There is a saying that the strongest are forged in the fires of Hell. Maybe that is true, maybe it isn’t. But there are many more that are broken in the fires and tortures of Hell, whose stories are never told. Is it a question of determination or merely a chance roll of the dice that creates heroes of some, and victims of others? The answer is not clear. But not all of this is conjecture. In the case of Zarina, an unwanted waif of Raylicon, there are some facts.
 
She was unwanted, thrown away like garbage almost the minute she was born, before the umbilical cord was cut. She spent her first years in an overcrowded orphanage that had neither enough beds, nor blankets or food. That is the second fact. She knows starvation, knows the clawing of hunger at her belly and the parched dryness of thirst. They are sensations she is as familiar with as freezing cold and intense heat, neither with relief in sight. The third fact is that as soon as Zarina was old enough, she left the overcrowded orphanage, and no one even cared that she was gone, in fact relief for one less mouth to feed would be more apt. At seven, Zarina was homeless and learning faster then any child should, how to steal to get what she needed. She did not know what being clean felt like, and gave it little thought. She learned what it felt like to be kicked, and punched, and beaten until new bruises were layered on top of old ones to the point that her skin was nothing but blacks and yellows, purples and blues, one giant mass of bleeding and swelling eyes and pain.
 
But there is more to a life then physical pain, and Zarina would learn those lessons and facts too. It wasn’t too long after her thirteenth birthday she gained enough attention from a nearby brothel, and was offered a bed and meager food and clothes; maybe even pay enough money to save on the side, if she did as needed. Men would pay, and if she was willing to let them, she could have more then just bloody lips and cracked ribs. She could have…if not gentle touches, then at least times when touch wasn’t immediately synonymous with pain. And so another fact was added to the life of Zarina. That everyone had a price they would sell themselves for.
 
Being a whore was about surviving, same as any other part of her life had been. She just got through each touch, each customer, every demand and desire that made her heart twist and ache far more then it ever should at any age, never mind hers. But there was another fact in Zarina’s life, and that was that she had not give up on what she really wanted. She saved everything she could, did what she had to, and bought herself her own set of tools to create and repair mechs, the towering creatures made of metal. She took whatever time she had off to stalk the junkyards, teaching herself how to create and fix on dead mechs. But it was another fact that her growing skills with mechs would never be enough to get her away from this. And so, she seduced who she had to, did what it took, and conned certain men into teaching her to pilot mechs and ships. She let them think she was nothing but an airheaded courtesan trying to get more coin by feigning interest in their professions. She waited, and bided her time. She would get out. She would.
 
The next fact was that she felt used, and dirty. She tried not to focus on it, but she knew it all the same. And too soon, she learned a fact that could destroy everything she had worked for. She had run out of time. A high ranking Order member who had come to her planet for a visit, or something (she didn’t really care why he was there), offered an exorbitant amount of money for her. And the brothel accepted. Whether she was his personal whore or a gift for his soldiers, she didn’t know. But now…she had no time.
 
So she stole the smallest ship she could find, and it was half rusted as it was. She took off, and never looked back. She found refuge in the Resistance, working as a pilot and mechanic. She will take down the Order, do what it takes. Her past is behind her, the future is laid out before her. Life didn’t break her.
                                                                                            
 
At least, not yet.