Paul Wilson was born on Manhattan, growing up in the typical way the lower class does under Liberty's corrupt system, even in youth Paul had always defied authority, throughout school he was constantly causing trouble, upstarting his own gang within it's walls. In Military boarding school he violently beat down one of the many janitors roaming the halls to let off steam from the frustration pent up within him from the teachers. Understandably so for such an outburst, the young man spent years on the LPI Sugarland as a result of his gross understanding of the law. Like many subject to the cruel walls of the station, he was busted out on one of the many raids, he tried meeting up with the members of his old gang, but they were all dead, rumors circulating on Beaumont has it a few had joined up with the Liberty Rogues, so he thought his natural course of action was to continue his blunt defiance of Liberty Law and seek out their strongest pack to prove his worth.

After nearly six years happily flying solo doing what all good pilots do, fighting, smuggling and trading, Basically anything to make ends meat. Of course he had a stint inside LPI Sugarland after a arranged goods drop off turned out to be LSF sting operation. After avoiding the dreaded cardamine fix inside he got out and started again. After a few months keeping his nose clean doing trade routes Baz had a encounter with LPI-Isla.Nazumaki as you guys have been discussing. He was informed that they had detected Slaves on board which Baz denied. Needless to say Baz destroyed LPI-Isla.Nazumaki’s ship in a 1 on 1 battle.. The deal was if Baz wins he walk free, as you can guess that deal soon changed. I won’t go into detail but he lost everything that day and maybe even a little bit of himself. Tired of being the lone wolf and now looking to utterly dominate Liberty For starters. He believes that the Rogues are the perfect organisation in his quest to dominate Liberty and anyone who stands in there way.

Second daughter of de Belmont family and it's middle sister, Celeste, unlike her senior sister, Sophie, have grown and studied on New Paris, and being a part of the hereditary military family have affected her the least: she was, in fact, the only one to choose civilian career over military - living and dying by the word of her King did not exactly correlate with her views on her life in the foreseeable future. Instead, she finished a university on New Paris, attained the bachelor degree in medicine, and devoted herself to further honing and polishing her knowledge.
Her reasons, however, were not much different from twisted, almost maniacal from the commoner's standpoint - Celeste cherished death, and saw little value in human life whatsoever. Conveniently taking the position in the local military hospital morgue, Celeste further studied the ways of bringing people to the logical conclusion of their lives; the Gallic war have been raging on, and fresh supplement of bodies in the morgue was a frequent sight - and Celeste was responsible for thoroughly inspecting every and each corpse to determine the cause of death and whatever specifics the body could tell. All the knowledge Celeste have collected have been copypasted into two sources: the report, that was the part of her job, and her personal digital base, which included more facts that were included in the autopsy reports.

However, aside from abudant database, Celeste desperately strived for less theory, and more practical material than just dead bodies she had her chances to thoroughly investigate. This is why she was never fond of space combat she heard so much about from Emilie - it was, in Celeste's opinion, senseless killing, where nothing is achieved and nothing, aside from adrenaline rush, is experienced. It was boring and uninformative. What she believed in being capable of bringing some real experience is when you commit murder with your own hands, feel your victim's life dripping away, and the warmth of the body slowly fading after they draw their last breath. That is how Celeste, in the end, applied her theoretical knowledge as she staged quite a few crafty murders - before completely disappearing as everything have started to break down for the Gallic monarchy. Celeste got in touch with Union Corse and used the chaos caused by the Council battlegroups appearing in the high orbit of New Paris and the ensued skirmishes to cover her escape.

Celeste have ended up on Arranmore - as far from home and prying eyes as she could possibly think of; while her medical skills weren't in such a high demand for it's actual purpose, but in combination with her low-key appearance and expertise in scheming complicated murders she procured back on New Paris, and Celeste re-appeared on Cambridge, staging the murders of the local police officers, slowly climbing their career ladder and gradually raising the difficulty of each case as more and more high-ranked officers have became her victims before she got extracted - for the local police was apparently less occupied and more competent than it's counterpart in Gallia.
At this point in her search for better expertise Celeste have parted ways with The Mollys and strolled over to the Lane Hackers; never finding or desiring to find herself the part of the Inner Circle, Celeste have tried to squeeze as much knowledge from this brief stay as possible, but could not learn much - as expected, they have been reluctant to open up too much to the outsiders while digging plenty of information of them discreetly. Apparently, they have discovered Celeste's origins and something about her true nature that have made them even more cautious around her and eventually drove her away from them to the Rogues, for Celeste felt she was not quite ready to leave Liberty yet and she might fit better into a more loose, chaotic movement that isn't so wary of complete strangers to Liberty.

Eventually Celeste admitted that space combat, while being highly distasteful subject for her personally, is necessary and unavoidable, and her choice of tools for it somewhat reflects her past expertise and the groups she happened to affiliate herself with.

Steffen Krane is the son of Otto and Leah Krane.
Otto, originally from Rhineland, moved to Liberty for the tax breaks. He married Leah late in life, and together they had Steffen, the eldest and only legitimate child. Otto was not a kind husband or father. He was often abusive of both his wife and son, verbally and, more commonly, physically.
Steffen grew up angry, bitter, and resentful. He grew to hate authority figures with a passion, and if we were to play psychologist, we might surmise that his father’s abusive manipulations helped to shape this. Despite all this, Steffen grew up surrounded by wealth and luxury. It was a cushy life when his father wasn’t beating him. And given how much Otto traveled for work, especially as Steffen reached his teen years, the beatings grew scarce. Regardless Steffen always saw his home as a gilded cage and moved out of it as soon as possible. His father would give him no money, so he had to earn his way. Always craving the wealth he grew up with, Steffen sought to enter the most lucrative business he could find, and thus he began dealing cardamine in Manhattan. This introduced him to the Rogues. Coming from a wealthy background did nothing to endear him to the Rogues. But his absolute hatred for the authorities, and his aptitude for all things involving money (likely an accidental gift from his father) soon earned him friends among their ranks. This didn’t stop them from giving the nickname “Silverspoon.” His greed for wealth and his willingness to do anything to get it, no matter how suicidal, prompted them to tack another word to that nickname- “Crazy.” And crazy he was. “Crazy Silverspoon” flew for years in a little Startracker, refusing to buy a better vessel because it would cost valuable money.
One day, a long, sleek ship, a Falchion, docked at Buffalo, and out stepped Steffen. He would explain nothing about where he got it or why. But ever after that those closest to him noticed occasional cash deposits to his account. Had it not been for his eagerness to kill every Liberty agent and officer he came across, some would have surmised he was on the take, feeding information to the LSF. But Steffen would rather blast the escape pod of a Liberty officer than tractor them in and waste space in his cargo hold. “Cops ain’t nothin’ but a waste of space.” He would often say. “And I ain’t having one of those pigs waste space in my ship.”

Sup Lil' Spoon,

Ain’t gon’ lie, started readin’ this thinkin’ “damn, this man establishin’ dominance, respect,” then I get to the middle thinkin’ “damn, this from the kid getting’ it pushed in." Nobody got time for cake and handcuff boys, get this out my face. Then I got some second thoughts at the end cause I know plenty rats lookin’ to make a run at it. You wanna Gucci this, Louis that, I get it. I feel some typa way ‘bout the hustle, maybe nothin’ to lose lettin’ a young buck prove he hungry by puttin’ in work. But you step outta line, I’ma make sure you finally get good at them suicidal tendencies real quick, feel?

Aight Lil’ Spoon, come snoop ‘round them Badlands, Big Spoon from Sugarlan’ be waitin’ for you. Get me daddy Otto’s digits in case you ain’t workin’ out.

I was born at West Point, a son of Laura Omberman and Thomas James Omberman, a Liberty Navy instructor and high ranking officer with a long track record in the Navy. My life path was clearly laid out in front of me - I was to become an exemplary officer of the Liberty Navy.
Destiny would have a different turn though - as a child, I was obsessed with fire, I had abundant creativity and loved trying new things. I did well in the academy, progressing swiftly. But inside, I was hating it.

I hated the discipline, the pressure put on me by being the son of my father, and something was just..boiling up inside of me. I have deserted the Navy, and rejected the iron fist of the pressure my father put on me, and decided I will join the group he despises the most - Liberty Rogues themselves. And my greatest pleasure is to take down those my father has trained and who he wanted me to grow into - high ranking officers in capital ships. I became B. "Scattergun" Omberman

OBERMAN

We don't want no scummy lowlife SCUMBAG that fell out of his mummys slimey gaping hole. Especially when some navy douche bag has been all inside it.

Piss off. Don't waste OUR time.

Mason Bru.... brruuc brru what ever. Not important. LIKE YOU.

"You can contact me in your comms channel" nuh nuh nuh nuh. Shut up. SHUT UP. Ain't nobody telling Sam what to do. Apart from the boss . The boss can. She's the only one that can tell Sam what to do.

Also.

What. The. Fuck. This ain't no social club amature who do you think you are? What sort of dumb gibberish am i looking at here by the way? What ever. Boss said get YOUR stupid goofy licking ASS down here boy. Apparently you're one of us. Surprising, i know?

History
I was born on Los Angeles and lived there until the age of 8, until my parents fled to Kusari to avoid the lower-class cleansing and avoid being thrown in Texas prison hellholes.
They eventually took refuge in the Hogosha organisation, and that's where I got my training and values.

When the old geezers kicked it lately, I have decided to take my skills back home, packed my Ahoudori and some sweet Cardie to make the journey go quicker, and set up my honest shop in New York with my The-Ship Kusari Explorer.

About me
I consider myself a bit of a hero and a people person, altruistically providing citizens with a good time with healthy substances such as Nox, Cardie, Synth Pot and others, and fulfill the innocent curiosity of science folks with obtaining White Boxes and other interesting material to help them pass their time.
I've been even known to selflessly for only a few hundred thousand credits help deliver grateful slaves to masters that can truly appreciate them, and truly utilise their skills to the maximum.

Corrupt Liberty
What great shock then it was for me that local authorities not only don't thank me for providing a valuable service to society and enriching Liberty as a whole, they actively tried to hinder my friendly operation, even going so far as submitting many reports on my mobile shop and naming me a criminal and ordering all officers to shoot me on sight. They did catch me once eventually, after sending their entire fleet after me during a contract job I took for a, let's face it, a weak client (sorry helf.on.the.shelf)

I managed to snatch a photo of the report the cop was filing on me in the can:
A strange and perplexing dynamic of corruption and incompetence I am not used to from Kusari, where the authorities let Hogosha do their service for the citizen in relative peace.

A push towards The Rogues
When the incompetent Navy forced me to defend Manhattan from a Coalition invasion single handedly without so much of a thank you, I've had enough, I've seen that in Liberty I will have to step to the other side of the law.

The Rogues immediately caught my eye, the couple Rogue bros that did Cardie with me on Buffalo seemed to have similar backgrounds, seemed like cool dudes and understood what it means to be a hero.

My intention
I obviously have a strong moral foundation as you can see, but I am here to learn and support whatever actions The Rogues consider worthwhile. Due to the corruption of local lawfuls where you can see 10 of them chasing one humble trader, but none of them when real foreign threat arrives I didn't think my Ahoudori would cut it.

I managed to strike a bargain from some guy high off his tits on Nox and got myself a Scylla for cheap price from him, and I've already met some of your drunken bunch in Cali that gave me tips on how to use the thing.

And intend to use it I do, while still keeping my humble merchant service to the locals on my Ahoudori open here and there on The-Ship.