Avery Sykes

Avery Blasdel Sykes, Jr.
Avery at the Battle for Glasgow Outpost, c. 816 A.S
Profile
Origin	Bretonia
Occupation	Freelancer, Smuggler, ex-BAF
Gender	Male
Affiliation	Undeclared
Rank	Lieutenant (discharged)
Status	Active
Born	787 A.S., Planet Leeds
Died	N/A

   "Blood? Blood doesn't irk me. We all bleed the same. It's the banners they stain with it, that's what irks me." 
   ― Avery at Montezuma Base, discussing politics with an old friend.

Avery Blasdel Sykes, Jr. is a freelancer, smuggler, former BAF fighter pilot and career criminal. Born to Avery and Haley Sykes Sr. on the planet Leeds in 787 A.S., he was part of the literal one-in-a-million elite that had a chance to escape the miserable toil below. His family's interest in Bowex meant his childhood was one of relative comfort and stability, something he grew tired of quickly. His youthful drive to escape lead him to join the Bretonian Armed Forces and eventually take part in the combat above Leeds at Glasgow Outpost in 816 A.S., where he would witness the supposed death of his parents. Fueled by fury, he was credited with at least three kills and an honorable discharge for his reckless, if heroic, actions. Years of government-paid recovery on Cambridge proved useless, and his powerful drive for revenge against the system landed him briefly amongst the Hellfire Legion, and today, criminals of all colors.

Biography

Avery was born on Leeds to the wealthy entrepreneur Avery Sykes Sr. and his third wife, Haley (née Blasdel), in 787 A.S. His childhood was carefree and pampered, where everything he asked for, he received. This lifestyle quickly bored Avery, who spent a majority of his free time mucking about with the lower-class, eventually growing sympathetic to their plight. Despite this, and his natural aptitude for reading others, Avery struck his friends as something of a brat. He was home-schooled, a diligent learner, quickly picking up on and becoming fluent in Kusari, the history of the Sirius Sector and even Earth before it. He enjoyed frequent use of his family's health facilities and private library, but still felt trapped in his tiny Garden of Eden. Though he frequently considered running away, Avery found solace in the time he spent on board his father's private yacht. Inspired by the stars he watched so often as a child, he sought employment with the Bretonian Armed Forces as soon as he was old enough. His parents were apprehensive at first, then allowed it - Avery wouldn't have cared either way.

His service in the BAF was nothing close to exemplary. Avery frequently landed himself in trouble for sneaking off-base, talking back to commanding officers, and sharing contraband among fellow recruits. After significant time spent washing training simulators and folding jumpsuits, he began to discipline himself. His brazen attitude, more well-adjusted, meant he was finally permitted to begin flight training, which was another opportunity for him to cross the line. Avery lost track of the amount of times he was grounded for irresponsible flying, but this only represented untapped potential to his commanding officer. Once his skills and recklessness were more honed, he was granted a permanent transfer to the Navy.

Among equals, Avery quickly climbed the ranks and entered officer candidate school, eventually graduating as a Lieutenant and the proud pilot of his own fighter. He saw little action as an officer, and was frustrated by the familiar feeling of being trapped. This all changed in 814 A.S., with the declaration of war against Kusari by Bretonia. Avery saw little combat, but that which he did see exhilarated him and satiated his desire to explore the unknown as his fleet traveled between systems. Two years of infrequent, but deadly combat, had earned him the respect of his peers and for once in his life, he felt accepted and genuinely proud of himself. Once the war was over, he decided, he would retire and return home, possibly to work for his father.

In 816 A.S., things came to a screeching halt with the arrival of Kusari forces at Leeds. Avery and his wing were one of several assigned to protect Glasgow Outpost, the orbital base-of-operations for Bowex, and the location of his father's office. In the sea of confusion, he witnessed the destruction of his father's yacht, believing his parents to be on board, and in a fit of rage charged the Kusari line against explicit orders. This futile attack did little to push back the line, but did score him three kills before he was forced to return to his capital ship after losing one of his engines. He had not noticed until he stepped out of his fighter.

Avery was court-marshaled following the successful counter-offensive, but because of his effectiveness, he was honorably discharged and the recipient of half a dozen medals. This did little to ease the pain he felt at the loss of his parents and the time that they no longer had to rebuild their relationship. Quickly he spiraled in to alcoholism, even under government care on Cambridge, stifling his rehabilitation and distancing him from friends. The hospital could no longer bear his burden and excused him from the premises. Without a ship, Avery began work in Liberty on board a transport vessel as a navigation officer, his pay barely covering his drug habit and most of his shore leave spent inside his cabin reading. To keep up with his increasing debt, he began stealing from the manifest, and selling the goods at their ports of calls. Though he was never caught, his inebriation began interfering with his work when, after being awake for 54 consecutive hours, he misjudged the distance of the ship to its mooring point outside of Pueblo Station and ran it aground. His employment was terminated, and Avery remained out-of-work until he was approached by a former coworker about the "opportunity of a lifetime"...

"Wanted!"

File:Averymugshot.jpg

Avery's Police sketch, c. 818

However quiet Avery may have been during his time as a navigation officer, his frequent intoxication meant that his disdain for war and the governments that cause them was obvious. Though much of the crew distanced themselves from him during his time on board, a sympathizer tracked him down after his termination and told him about the Hellfire Legion, an organization of disgruntled ex-Liberty Navy pilots that sought to take down the government of Liberty with precise, professional attacks. Avery laundered money with him as he built up credibility within the Legion, eventually earning enough to purchase a decommissioned ion storm tracker and outfit it with the weaponry necessary to face a government arsenal. His dedication to the cause was debatable, but his motivation was genuine, and that was enough for his fellow revolutionaries. After a series of covert strikes, however, it became painfully obvious that this was not the cause Avery had believed it to be. Its stymied position frustrated him, and within a few months he had already escaped to the Independent Systems to forge his own path. Unfortunately for him, the police had tracked it down too. If the gloves were off, Avery decided, then it was a mercenary he would be.

Never before had Avery found so much excitement and gratification in one fell swoop; he sold weapons to terrorists, hunted down corrupt politicians with bounties on their heads, and knocked back drinks with the scum of the universe (and loved every minute of it). His standards prevented him from committing acts of piracy, something he found counterproductive to the cause of dismantling the houses of Sirius. As he became more involved in the criminal underworld, he realized his political aspirations would have to go under the rug if he wanted to continue expanding his business. Slowly he sobered up, developing a degree of professionalism he wished his father could have lived to see, and a solid reputation as a smuggler and gun-for-hire. Still, he yearned for his carefree childhood without his subconscious obligations to defend the common man. Money helped make the problem go away, and he knew how to make it and spend it. In just a few years, Avery had made a name for himself without saying very much at all.

Unbeknownst to Avery, his parents had returned to safety and initiated a search for him. The Bretonia Police Authority and BAF offered little hope, communicating any details they could scrape up to his last employers, who passed it on to the Liberty Police. It was considered impossible he had become the criminal now wanted by the authorities, who ignored the fact that Avery did nothing to conceal his identity; the prospect he was one in the same was ludicrous, and his father's search continues to this day. Private investigators who have attempted to find him have met grisly ends, or exorbitant bribes to say they found him in a ditch on the side of a trade lane. Avery has, by now, effectively cut off all communication with his former world. Today, he finds himself at the cutting edge of the Cardamine smuggling and distribution business. He steadfastly refuses never to return to his home planet of Leeds, instead preferring the company of his Libertonian cohorts and comrades, who he believes truly embody the spirit of freedom.

The Spit

The Spit is Avery's Sabre Series Z Heavy Fighter. It served briefly as a Cambridge Research Institute ion storm-tracker/observer, until a severe computer malfunction put it out of commission and in the hands of Junker black market traders. Little modification has since been done, aside from the complete removal of self-aware AI, lending to Avery's dedication to his own navigation and piloting abilities. This significant reduction on the power-plant also means the installation of a custom-made Kusari advanced thruster, salvaged Mk. III Heavy Armor, and a cruise-disrupting missile system designed to aggravate and discourage would-be pursuers are all possible.