Camille Gabriel (Character Sheet)

[Camille Gabriel]

Camille Gabriel

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Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

Invictus (William Henley)

The Basics

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Gender: Female
Age: 23 Years
Birthday: 12th September 714A.G.S [798A.S]
Birthplace: Croix-Rousse, Planet Lyon, Lyonnais
Place Of Residence: Croix-Rousse, Planet Lyon, Lyonnais
Affiliation: Marine Royale Gauloise
Known Craft:

• None.

Service Details

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Rank: Lieutenant
Service Number: 2384129
Division: La Légion Étrangère Gauloise
Postings:

• 733A.G.S-733A.G.S [817A.S] - Vol de base Centre d'entraînement au Amiens
• 736A.G.S-736A.G.S [820A.S] - Centre d'entraînement au combat Monet Colline
• 736A.G.S-738A.G.S [821A.S] - 1st Division, Légion Étrangère

Lt. C. Gabriel was declared AWOL in late 738A.G.S after protracted failure to report. Her current location is unknown.

Appearance

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Height: 158cm
Hair: Red
Eyes: Hazel
Distinguishing Marks: Fist-sized brown birthmark on her left side, below the ribs.

Camille is a woman that has spent most of her life on the run from one group or another and, as has to expected of someone in such a situation, has become rather adept at running. Neither an athlete nor a slob, the Gallic maintains the physique required of a Legionnaire - and little besides. Happily outside the bounds of the regular Navy's uniform standards, her red locks hang just above her shoulders, a remnant of a time where the ability to obscure her face from a vigilant camera or attentive employer was a vital survival skill. Nonchalant when it comes to clothing, she has developed a fondness for the Foreign Legion's kepi, though rarely wears it, or any element of her formal uniform, outside of special occasions.

Personality

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As evasive and mocking in conversation as she is in combat, there is more to the slight Legionnaire then meets the eye. Uncomfortable and often quiet in large groups, Camille could have been born to the small raiding teams dispatched by the Legion. While she would never consider herself a coward, in truth she adheres to a far more fluid style of battle then most of Royal Navy, preferring to withdraw in a hazardous situation rather then risk losses. Ultimately, like most of Foreign Legion, Camille's principles are a matter defined by survival.

Raised among stories of the inevitable Royalist victory, she still clings to the image of the noble Gallic soldier triumphing against the odds. Indeed, it was that deep-seated ideal of glory that first drove her to take up arms for the Crown. Honor and courage were virtues to be praised and goals to strive for. Experience quickly dictated otherwise. Though the ideas that once drove her to sign her name on the enlistment paperwork have faded as surely as the ink in which she wrote it, buried beneath the weight of experience, there is a part of her that holds to them yet, longing to return to Lyons a hero.

History

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Born on Lyons to a middle-class family shortly before the outbreak of the Second Gallic War, Camille spent her early years in relative safety, enthralled with the stories from the frontline. Following an uneventful childhood she served a brief stint in the Royal Navy's Flight Training School before flagging results led to her expulsion from both the course and the Navy.

Lacking the aptitude for military flying but nonetheless enraptured with the ideal, Camille turned her hand to mercenary work, flying as an escort for whoever would pay, and occasionally turning her Lynx's guns on the Kingdom's various enemies as part of a standing arrangement for the ship's purchase.

Frequently outnumbered and often isolated from other Royalist forces, she developed a preference for hit-and-run attacks rarely practised by the gargantuan Gallic military, striking vulnerable elements in Bretonian convoys and vanishing before their escorts could bring weapons to bear. Nonetheless, it was a risky method of warfare, and took its toll when she strayed too close to a drive-equipped carrier and was dragged along with the warship's jump.

The months that followed were a frantic patchwork of ships, homes and faces, one star blending into another as she hopped from planet to planet, struggling to stay a step ahead from the Sirian police forces nipping at her heels. A series of bribes from increasingly dwindling funds secured her return to Bretonian space and would have, but for the actions of a treacherous Junker, guaranteed her arrival in Gallia.

Instead, she languished in a Leeds holding cell awaiting trial, freedom sold for a neural net transfer. It was there she remained until the planet was liberated by Gallic ground forces. Returned to Gallia without a ship, funds, or work, she searched for purpose and found it in the Foreign Legion, an organisation that fought along the same lines she had operated alongside as a Freelancer. She shipped out for training in 733A.G.S.

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Dulce et decorum est.
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