User:MasaAquira
Bio:
Name: Masa Thrakar Aquira
Age: 30
Sex: Female
Pronouns: She/her or They/them
Place and date of Birth: Kurdoo III, 10169 AG
Height: 190.5cm (6’3”) on Kurdoo III, 188cm (6’2”) on Arrakis.
Appearance: Pale freckled skin and dark auburn hair frame their predatory yellow eyes. Scars upon their face and body are joined by several esoteric tribal tattoos from their homeworld. A short Grecian nose with a wide bridge and flared nostrils is perched over large, scarred lips.
Their tall, androgynous body is muscular and athletic, having honed themselves for mobility and combat their whole life. Wide hips and powerful thighs provide increased jump height and run speed, whilst a strong core gives them easy balance and agility (Even at their height). A flat, toned chest allows Masa to pass as male or female in the appropriate clothing.
Overt mannerisms: Moves with catlike fluidity. Their steps quiet and their movements calculated. Tends to look up when entering a new room or area, a survival trait from stalking jungles. When not moving, they are statuesque in their stillness. Those yellow eyes the only part of them which. Tends to only speak when they have something meaningful to say. Has a playful, almost hungry look in their eyes.
Apparel: Tends to wear less if possible due to heritage, shying from restrictive clothing and preferring clothes which don’t impede movement. When not wearing a stillsuit or light armour, they can be found wearing a sleeveless black bodysuit, with black leggings and muffled combat boots which extend up the calf for support. A waistcoat corset, supportive - not tight, providing armour to the chest and gut and a place to hide several blades. A utility belt is almost permanently on their person, with their main short blade and several useful items. Sometimes a hooded cloak if weather or situation demands it. They dress with freedom of movement in mind, whilst also being ready to fight or blend into the shadows. Their blades are blackened and there are no polished metal buckles or buttons to catch the eye.
Education: Informal BG training and combat/survival/hunting training on Kurdoo III. Formal BG training on Wallach IX. Formal pilot training on Caladan. Informal Spycraft and pilot training on Giedi Prime.
Caste: Na-Familia
Mentor: Bene Gesserit
Class: Multiclass BG/Swordmaster/Trooper, focusing on mobility and body mastery.
Backstory:
Masa Aquira’s story begins before they were born.
A Bene Gesserit sister had found themselves pursued across the system by a slighted minor noble and his entourage of hired goons. In a damaged shuttle and unable to contact her sisters, she ordered the pilot to attempt a landing on the primitive planet they found themselves orbiting. Kurdoo III, a warm, wet world covered in the scattered ruins of a pre Butlerian civilisation. A primitive culture, having risen from the radioactive ruins, apparently called it home and had been the target of the Missionaria Protectiva in centuries past.
Sister Lena Aquira, being one of only three people who survived the catastrophic crash landing, quickly took advantage of the groundwork already laid down by her sisters past. Her aggressors searched for two weeks before finally giving up, bombing the area around the crashed ship from the air before leaving orbit. She installed herself as a witch of great power and wisdom, one who had come from the stars and would lead the people of Kurdoo III into an age of plenty. Her pale skin made her appear blessed by the stars to the Kurdoo people, and though she preferred to be fully clothed, this savage society favoured minimalism in that department. Her training prevailed, Lena adapted, and they made several concessions for her great power. She helped one of the more powerful tribes gain dominance over the region, teaching them skills, tactics and medical knowledge they had lost since the time before “The Great Burning”.
Over thousands of years, the world had been reclaimed by nature, covering the scars of the Butlerian Jihad and shrouding all those who dwelt there from prying eyes. Living in huts and cowering behind wooden palisades, Lena was soon the only one who remained of the surviving crew. Her ‘‘companions’’ succumbed to disease and monstrous beast, whilst Lena was kept safe by the Chief and his council of warrior priests. She learned their legends, adapted to their particular flavour of the Missionaria Protectiva and weaved her way into their tribe so she became a core pillar of their daily lives.
Several years passed by in this fashion, the tribe had become a jungle kingdom in its own right. Industry was moving forward rapidly and large areas had been cleared for agriculture. Lena, unaware of the great political machinations of the Imperium currently at play, was working on moulding her own corner of the planet into something she might use to reach out to the sisterhood. Hunting parties were being sent out across the continent in search of lost technology, whilst the political climate became more charged as many lusted for the power the chief now held. A rival, having come of age only a few years prior, had been groomed for the throne by Lena in secret. Training, imprinting and complete loyalty. A perfect tool with an exquisitely honed and powerful body bred by the warrior priests and trained to perfection by Lena when he caught her eye.
A challenge and a swift kill was the culmination of several years of effort, placing her chosen chief on the throne of that pitiful little kingdom. Thrakar the warrior king. Molded by her, he was brutal but fair, intelligent and cunning, at least for a world so backward. Strong enough to give a Sardaukar a run for his Solari. 9 months after his coronation feast, Masa Thrakar Aquira was born.
The Star Child
A grand celebration spanned the week after her birth. Tribal leaders from across the kingdom and beyond, came to pay their respects to the birth of the Star Child. Many gasped in shock at how pale the child was, inheriting that likeness from her mother. Legend and myth, having been woven into their culture and reinforced again by Lena, gave the child automatic protection and deification. “And so the Star Child would rise up from the sea of trees and take the people with them.”
Masa Aquira began her training on her first birthday. A regimen of prana-bindu training and simple exercises and movements which mirrored martial forms. By age three she was already climbing trees if left unsupervised. A prodigy in her own right, able to sit unnaturally still, which unnerved the adults and awed the other children. One hot summer, at only five years of age, the Star Child was found by villagers in a situation causing them to cry out in anguish.
Panilli Nerve Burners crawled over Masa’s body in their thousands. One twitch, one sudden move would render any man writhing for a week. Even a single bite. And here she was, sat naked beside a nest, solid as rock. They feared her already dead, but none would approach for such numbers would kill from shock. They prayed. They made offerings to their god. Three hours later, when the Nerve burners had dispersed, Masa stood up, unharmed, like rising from a long nap. Needless to say, the story travelled faster than forest fire.
As she grew older, she also trained with Thrakar, his warrior priests and master hunters. Whilst savage by comparison, their training involved the hunt, knowledge of the forest and surviving off the land. Vitally important should they ever have to escape. Lena continued training Masa in the ways of the Bene Gesserit, several languages, knowledge of the Imperium and its many houses. She also made sure that her daughter was fully aware of the farce she was embroiled in. She was no Star Child. Not the chosen one. Reminded her that such a role had great responsibility and peril in equal measure. “Do not allow their zeal to infect you. You are not strong because you are chosen. You are strong because you have the breeding and the training to be the strongest human on this savage planet. You will find yourself without equal here, the Imperium will not be so forgiving nor easily tamed.”
Masa Aquira cared for her people and inhabited the responsibility for their welfare and safety throughout her youth. To the enemies of the kingdom she would inherit, she was a demon. A shadow swooping from the trees to exact brutal vengeance. To her people, Masa was a saviour who would rescue the people of her kingdom from monsters, enemies and storms alike. By age fifteen, she danced across the tree branches sowing death from above. Taller than even the tallest man in the kingdom of her father, with barely an ounce of wasted muscle or fat, she was a true force of nature on Kurdoo III and worshipped for her beauty, strength and skill in equal measure.
Her mother, Lena, had not been idle. Her search parties had combed the old ruins of the continent, finding many artefacts and forbidden caches. Nearing her daughters sixteenth birthday, Lena received the final piece she needed to build a crude communication device. It was here she could have called her sisters, but Lena hesitated. This world was primitive by any standards, war, disease and untamed wilds were the norm. Technology was millennia behind the rest of the galaxy and it could just as easily be wiped out or enslaved in a heartbeat.
The Choice
But for her daughter, this was home. It was all she had ever known, except what Lena had taught her of the imperium. Did she want to expose Masa to the Imperium? To the Bene Gesserit and all the scheming and plots. To be used, in all likelihood, as a tool? As a pawn in someone’s game? What kind of a mother would that make her, she wondered. Did the sisterhood come first for her anymore? Or was Lena absolved of her responsibilities now that they thought her dead.
Two months passed Kurdoo III by and it was the day after Masa’s sixteenth birthday that Lena went on a walk with her daughter to the river. “You have a choice to make.” Masa noticed the quiver in her mother’s voice, but didn’t interrupt. “I have completed a crude device to contact my sisters. Once you activate it, they will come and deliver us from this world. From your home here.” So the choice was her own, and hers alone. The power to leave this world where she had been worshipped her whole life. Where her… they weren’t truly friends… sycophants, whilst they all meant well and cared for Masa, they were never her equal. The few lovers she’d had in the past few years since maturity were bouts of curiosity and diplomacy for later life. Imprinting early upon future leaders and rivals.
She’d be expected to bear children in a few years, something she wanted to do only when she was good and ready. And only with someone who could match her. She loved the planet more than she loved the people here. They weren’t bad, evil or particularly dumb, but she would not find equals here, not after everything that had happened. Masa accepted the device from her mother without word, appraising the device briefly before depressing the activator. “And so the Star Child would rise up from the sea of trees.”
Several weeks later, a shuttle arrived in the dead of night. Dirt and branches were swept across the courtyard in front of the kings longhouse, and bright search lights illuminated all around the shuttle, questing for their target. Descending from the ramp, came a Bene Gesserit sister, cloaked in black, with a retinue of soldiers. Not that she needed the protection of course, but with primitives, it was best to be cautious. A great ceremony and feast was held in the name of the star people, a time of celebration as this heralded the Kurdoo people’s ascension to the stars. It was an old friend of Lena’s who had been dispatched to retrieve her and Masa only met with her briefly to be appraised. It was here, after the feast, that she underwent the Gom Jabbar.
The training she underwent, the perils of life in an untamed wilderness, the scars upon her body from beasts and battle. None compared to the pain she endured in those few minutes, but it did help prepare her. Masa Aquira passed the test, her years of tutelage under the merciless nerve burners giving her only a slight edge. With her humanity proven, Masa and her mother were taken aboard the shuttle and left Kurdoo III without word. She promised herself she would return once her training was complete, to help them become more than savages. To be the chosen one they believed her to be, even if she knew the truth.
From Savage to Sister
Lena took a teaching position on Wallach IX, reintegrating with a relaxed ease, thankful for finally being able to be part of civilised society once more. And proper attire, a bath, the creature comforts of polite society even the Bene Gesserit allowed themselves. As for Masa, she was not a fan of the mandatory attire for acolytes. Constrictive, itchy and altogether too much clothing for her Kurdoo sensibilities. She was also the target of bullying amongst the acolytes. Simple sneering jabs she could ignore, but it grew to become an issue when it would disrupt her studies or sleep. Her heritage was up for debate, her androgynous body, built for battle more than sex appeal was seen as a weakness by many of the pretty noble socialites. Unlike most of the other acolytes, she already had nearly a decade of combat under her proverbial belt and knew how to deal with threats swiftly and decisively.
One fateful night, a noble born acolyte awoke in a terrible nightmare. A pair of venomous eyes staring deep into her soul from above. Arms and legs bound to the bed, mouth gagged as she screamed and thrashed, unable to escape. The eyes blinked and a knife licked a single cut across the acolytes cheek. The fearsome eyes retreated into the darkness as the young acolyte succumbed to a mild sedative. The acolyte awoke in the morning with only the cut across their cheek to remember the nightmare. To remember those piercing eyes. The eyes of Masa Thrakar Aquira. The eyes of a predator.
After three more suffered a similar waking nightmare, the bullying suddenly stopped. Whilst Masa was a fox in a hen house, she eventually came to be known as more of a trickster. She would play pranks on her fellow sisters, which to the consternation of her teachers, did provide valuable learning opportunities for the other acolytes. She settled into the flow of daily life there, and whilst she wasn’t shy about her body or her upbringing, it certainly gave her a reputation. Here on Wallach IX, she finally began to gain friends, people she could consider equals. At least those who didn’t mind her somewhat untamed nature.
As Masa’s studies truly began in earnest under the careful tutelage of the Bene Gesserit sisters, there was no denying her capabilities. Intelligent, thoughtful, quick to ask questions but patient enough to consider from every angle. Physical training was refined and advanced techniques beaten into her through a brutal regimen. To be intellectually and physically stimulated each day until she was too tired to stand. Masa enjoyed her training. She begrudgingly learned etiquette and the updated machinations of the political structure of the Imperium too. Her body developed and grew strong on the rich civilised diet, with less time spent on hunting and more on honing. She surpassed many others acolytes already, when it came to combat and physical ability. A life spent climbing trees and hunting through thick jungle had forged Masa Aquira into a powerful predator.
Even several years later when she became a sister, the clothes still itched and she took every opportunity to be out of them, but Masa was a powerful Sister in her twenties with enormous potential. The Bene Gesserit training built on those strong foundations until she cut a striking figure in her twenties. Tall, lean and powerful, with an easy sensuality in that androgynous, sculpted form. She leaned into the androgynous appearance, even playing with their pronouns and outfits, adapting to the situation or mission.
Upon graduation, she asked to be allowed to return to her homeworld of Kurdoo III for a short time, to check their status. She was allowed to keep her promise, returning to Kurdoo III to find what she’d helped her mother build. War had ravaged the kingdom of Thrakar. Then pestilence and eventually famine. The city built by her father had burnt to ashes and the Kurdoo people, no longer under her mothers supervision, had reverted to savage isolated tribes.
She has never returned to Kurdoo III.
Masa threw herself into fetch and retrieval missions, assassinations, rescue missions and began her formal training in the Missionaria Protectiva. Having been on the other end of those efforts, she wanted to learn how it worked, and perhaps improve upon the efforts of her predecessors. During this time, she learned how to pilot several vehicles, having a graceful talent for aircraft in particular which according to her Atreides instructor was “Like watching a psychopathic hawk dancing through the air, as it swooped down upon its prey with glee”.
The words of her mother so many years ago rang true on several occasions. There were definitely people amongst the Imperium who were stronger than her and so far she has managed to avoid their ire. Assignments for the Sisterhood seemed to be short for the most part, like the Reverend mothers were saving her for something. She completed her training in the Missionaria Protectiva a few years ago, truly understanding the impact the Bene Gesserit had on her entire life. There were aspects she didn’t agree with, certain aspects self serving for the sisterhood. Now 30 years of age, a prime specimen of the Bene Gesserit’s combat capabilities, a master of mobility and adaptation, she was provided her long term assignment.
Find the Fremen, by any means necessary.