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Vincent Pryor
Vincent Pryor | |
Profile | |
Origin | Planet Denver, Liberty |
Occupation | Freelancer |
Affiliation | Independent |
Born | August 4 796 A.S., Planet Denver (Age 22) |
Early History
Born “Vincent Cramer” on Planet Denver to an unknown mother, Vince lived under the lackluster care of Richard Cramer, a heavily alcoholic father referred to only as “dad”, who, needless to say, did not provide a nurturing environment. Suffering regular beatings and essentially left to fend for himself, Vince only received a marginal degree of professional education as a result of the authorities eventually cracking down on his father’s behavior years after primary school should have began. Even after this incident, the daily life he endured remained for the better part the same. Nevertheless, this forced self-reliance bred in him a resourceful streak which would serve him well later on. In fact it would start much sooner than one might have thought.
After a particularly savage beating and what could be described as attempted murder at the hands of his father, Vince, still only eight years old, took matters into his own hands. While most children who fancy the thought of running away would dramatize the event to all extremes and would most likely return home by the end of it, Vince had already grown up to be among a different stock. Nonchalantly, he packed what few possessions he had and snuck into Centennial Spaceport. A quick decision found him packed between crates on board a Rhino freighter that was destined for Kusari space. Along the way it made a brief stop at Freeport Ames, formerly the Ames Research Station, where Vince crept out of the hold at the earliest opportunity.
He soon found himself among a cadre of Zoners and Freelancers, naturally alone, but this kind of environment was nothing new to him save the fact that he was in space. Somehow managing to survive via handouts and clever bouts of scavenging for a week or so, Vince garnered a small reputation as “the Orphan of Ames” and was finally picked up by a Zoner named Gerald Pryor, a dock-hand at the station.
Over the next few years, Vince thrived as an apprentice dock-hand and technician, always eager to please Gerald who filled in the gap that his real father never had. While their relationship was somewhat detached in that it was clear he was not Vince’s real father, it was nonetheless friendly. Sometimes the old Zoner would reveal the kindness that had driven him to adopt the boy, and he eventually accepted Vince’s label of “Papa Gerry”, whereas the term “dad” became a taboo.
Along the way, however, Vince made the acquaintance of a lot of passerby who usually indulged him when he asked about their adventures. His imagination was fired by these stories of “lone star” pilots, and Vince set himself on a route to become a Freelancer; it was much to the chagrin of his adoptive father who had grown used to his company but, being a Zoner, Gerald understood the desire to branch out and helped his adopted son along the way.
The start of Vince’s flying career was nerve-wracking at best. Gerald had helped him purchase a used Starflier which he used to gallivant around the Kepler System. This was obviously not a very safe place to fly: on more than one occasion he ran into pirates or Xenos who fortunately just laughed at the young pilot and left him alone. Still, even some of those same pirates and Xenos who also frequented Ames had soft spots and were soon offering advice, teaching Vince some of the more unorthodox points to travel, and combat, around Sirius. Combined with the exploits and pointers of Freelancers and other travelers, Vince was exposed to half the sector’s worth of know-how without even leaving that lonely system.
But his future lay elsewhere. After working at Ames until he was eighteen, Vince had accumulated enough personal wealth to begin his own adventure. He started by getting his hands on a broken down Borderworlds “Dagger” fighter which would eventually become his pride and joy. Ever since he’d seen brigands flying around in Border Worlds ships and had the chance to work on them when they docked, Vince fell in love with the simplicity and rough elegance of their design. He would keep the Dagger in storage on Ames while he did odd jobs, periodically stopping back and upgrading the ship with more parts than were ever intended for that original frame, some acquired not quite legitimately. He christened this ship the “Outflyer One”, and would break it out numerous times to perform whatever odd jobs he could.
It was during this time he ran into Xander Vogel, a pilot of Rheinland descent who would become one his few vaunted close friends. Xander showed up in the Tigershark he was flying at the time right at a point when Vince was being assaulted by a band of pirates who didn’t take kindly to him taking out a hit on their leader, ultimately saving his life. While Vince would contest that he would have been fine on his own in that furball, their close relationship afterward would indicate otherwise.
Recent History
By the time Vince was twenty, the Outflyer One had been shot to Hell and back almost a dozen times. After each harrowing experience, he’d pull the ship to port for maintenance, and then fix more after-market parts on it in order to make up for the deficiencies which caused him to get trashed in the first place; it never occurred to him that he lost by pilot error, such was the ego he’d begun to form.
In between these ventures he would occupy his time, and fill his wallet, doing transport and smuggling jobs in the Outflyer Two, a Dromedary he’d bought using his Freelancing wages. His ships’ naming schemes and design styles were obviously set, and he became so fluent in the Border Worlds line of craft that he could almost strip a ship down to the bolt and put it back together by memory. This was mostly because of his previous technical experience, although his adventures with the Outflyer One would hint to sheer necessity.
By age twenty two, Vincent Pryor, formerly a beaten up orphan who snuck onto Ames, had become a rather successful Freelancer, as far as his lifetime permitted. He’d purchased a condemned hangar complex on Planet Erie, had it partially refurbished, and had a small home built into it, turning it into a personal castle of sorts. From here he’d set out across the entire Sirius Sector, “living the life” as it were. Business was sufficient to maintain his estate, but he found that it was more enjoyable to be able to perform jobs without the threat of bankruptcy hanging over his head.
With this idea in mind, Vince took out a loan with the ICMG and purchased the Outflyer Three, a DL Series transport. Vince yet again reveled in the type but was agitated about its inability to fight. Nevertheless, he chose to take the most dangerous and exciting trade routes possible, making friends and enemies the sector over. With the unveiling of Gallia, his Freelancing spirit lunged at the possibilities, and he found himself running the Neon route from his own doorstep on Erie.
These transporting ventures left him reasonably secure financially, opening the gate to Freelancing as a passion with his beloved Outflyer One. By now the old Dagger had been so horribly mangled and miraculously reconstructed that it was the equivalent of a Sabre, its hull refurbished, then rebuilt, its power core uprated, its guns upgraded, its pilot better than ever.
Even still, Vince had some unfinished business to attend to. The time finally came to confront “dad”. But as it turned out, he had to confront ghosts instead: Richard Cramer had died back in 812 when he was mugged and murdered while stumbling through the streets completely drunk. This revelation, while not shocking, was nonetheless unsettling. There was nothing left to confront, no way to dispel the memories of his past by performing any action. Yet again, he was on his own. But yet again, it suited him, and he persevered.
As it stands, Vince is currently freelancing out of passion for the time being. The term “retirement” is hovering around in the back his mind, but he’s settled on the idea that retirement would probably involve some debilitating injury since becoming immobile and passive for him is worse than death.
For the time being he is sheltering Xander Vogel, currently expatriated once again and in hiding since the Wilde incident.
Personality
Vincent Pryor has, perhaps, one of the largest heads in all of the colonies. As he would put it, he “Rules”, among other more colorful expletives describing his prowess. There is little to say that this sentiment is true, as Vince is not undefeated, nor is he a multi-billionaire with his own space station and a reputation spanning households across Sirius. Nevertheless persists in this idea.
An easy way to describe Vince’s personality is to look upon the stereotype of the 21st century American fighter pilot. A fighter jockey with a big mouth and an ego as vast as a Red Giant, he can be laid back and icy cool one minute and then cuss up a storm when something angers him the next. He acts like a womanizer but in reality is afraid of, and realizes the futility of, commitment for a loner like himself; as a result “flings” never get terribly far. In spite of his heritage, he does take to the drink very well, particularly a hard shot of something called a “Jackhammer”, although never enough to incapacitate his ability to fly. His accent is a curious mix of casual English with a bent of southern tone and terminology. A sidearm is always found to be in his possession at all times, and while he is a good shot with it, he insists that “the Outflyer does all the talkin’.”
But he does have other traits which set him apart from the rest of the loners in Sirius. For one, his loyalty towards closest friends is unmatched, to the point where tactically absurd situations become “No Factor” and he would jump into a fight for them regardless. He has only a few such people to speak of as per his loner tendencies; no doubt this has increased his life expectancy. Vince is also prone to “stargazing”, which he refers to as a “Fancy word for staring out into space while having a good, long think.” While seemingly devoid of morals, there is some streak of justice in his actions; while he’d gladly blow a target out of the stars, he’d have no hesitation when it came to recovering their escape pods. While he’s done work for pirates in the past, he’d never lift a finger for those that aren’t of the “personable kind” and have a policy of absurd demands and destroying their victims regardless of compliance. While he doesn’t like to “rat out other fellas” when it comes to illicit activities, he’d still call in the cavalry if it was a dire matter concerning the safety of innocents.
In essence, Vince is the epitome of the Sirian Freelancer. Had the true exploits of Edison Trent been exposed, there is no doubt that he would consider himself the modern equivalent, if not better.
Quotes
- “The universe is my playground.”
- “Dyin’ ain’t much of a livin’.”
- “See, deal is, I rule. You don’t. That’s why your cockpit is lacking a ship.”
- “Vince Pryor’s Ass Kicking Service: Have lasers, will travel.”
- “Lose sight, lose the fight.”
- “Lose sight, check your six, if you still have time.”
- “Feelin’ lucky, buddy?”
- “Just call me Mister S*** Hot.”
- “I am invincible, that’s right.”
- “Fancy that! Competition!”
- “I’m the kinda guy who rides around the stars on the back of a fighter with my hair on fire and a gun in my hand, and nobody’s gonna stop me, come Hell or high water. I’m a Freelancer, through and through. I reckon that’s what it’s all about.”
- “Aw Hell no! I can’t believe you just did that, you Goddamn crazy son of a- *series of expletives deleted* ”
Oh beautiful for spacious space,
For amber waves of synth,
For purple Badland's majesties,
Along the tradelaned plane!
Oh Liberty, oh Liberty,
I shed my cool on ya'll,
So crown my head with booze and bread,
From star to shining star!
- The Vincertonian Anthem
Spacecraft Inventory
Outflyer-I
A Border Worlds Dagger that no longer resembles its stock configuration, this fighter has served as Vince’s primary mount for the past four years. Equipped with a hodgepodge of weaponry and equipment, from codenamed lasers to civilian leftovers, “the Outflyer” (as it is referred to by its pilot) is the best example of a Freelancer’s lifestyle. While not flawless and up to snuff compared to the most advanced fighters in Sirius today, it still serves as a potent threat to any person who tries to get a lock on it. Of course, based on its pilot, “They would be dead by then anywho.”
Outflyer-II
A Border Worlds Dromedary freighter that has been extensively upgraded to serve as a fast courier and smuggling ship, if the Outflyer One serves as Vince’s “hotrod” this ship would serve as his utilitarian truck. Thanks to his recent business ventures it has not seen action for a rather long period of time, but is kept in his hangar in case of emergency or the occasional smuggling job.
Outflyer-III
A Border Worlds DL Series Transport, this ship has seen almost every system at one point or another. Bought by a loan thanks to the ICMG, this vessel can still be seen hauling goods to and from the shady regions of Gallia, provided Vince has need of the currency. While it is hardly a combat vehicle, as its pilot so laments, it has been known to exert some power for defensive purposes, in one case ramming through a pirate gunboat with all guns blazing in order to escape through a tradelane.
Diplomacy
Being a Freelancer, Vince’s relationship with other factions are subject to change. However, at present, they can be described as the following: