Information

Vala has a minion!

Qetesh the Astralflaik

Vala
Legacy Name: Vala

The

Custom Galactic Keeto
Owner:

Lily

Age: 15 years, 5 months, 4 weeks

Born: October 20th, 2008

Adopted: 15 years, 5 months, 4 weeks ago (Legacy)

Adopted: October 20th, 2008 (Legacy)

Pet Spotlight Winner
January 15th, 2013

Statistics

Level: 3,296
Strength: 8,002
Defense: 7,501
Speed: 5,502
Health: 14,003
HP: 14,003/14,003
Intelligence: 5,858
Books Read: 3142
Food Eaten: 10090
Job: Director of SAI

ever need tell her she was adopted. She would tell you it was instinct, but mostly it was the way she stood out. The piercing gold eyes and the long, thick black hair. Everyone else had hair of spun gold and eyes blue as the seas. They had always been polite enough to her, but she never had any close friends. It was clear that she was not one of them.

As an infant, her parents had fled to this new world with their infant daughter to make a fresh start. As the years passed, they once again found themselves victims of the very corruption and tyranny from which they had fled.Tension between the civilians and the newly self-appointed government grew worse as the years passed. Over time, people adapted. If that meant they had to be thieves and criminals to survive, that's what they did. Her own father once slit the throats of three other men, just for access to the water supply.

He was a bit of a peculiar man, her father. He scared her in a way. Not that she was afraid of him, just that he was highly... unpredictable. During the day he could pass amongst the rest of the people as one of them, nearly unnoticed. At nights he would stay up, waving his fingers wildly in the air, endlessly rambling to himself in a strange jargon. She never did see him sleep. Her mother would tuck her in at nights, assuring her there was no need to worry.

Very late one night he stood over her bed, watching her. Feigning sleep, she thought that he would grow weary and leave. When it was clear that this was a battle of wills that she was sure to lose, she decided to confront him. She rolled over and stared at him, his tall thin frame, a shadow in front of the light of the door. Slowly, he knelt down to his knees to look straight into her eyes. He took her hand ever so gently, and slipped a small object into it. "This is yours." He whispered to her. "It is your birthright." He then left the room to continue his endless blathering.

It was a curious thing, this blue rock. Like a tear or an eye, it almost seemed to have a glow of its own. The surface was cool and smooth like a polished stone. Yet she had never seen a stone with such brilliance. It was not something she ever made sense of, but not having anything valuable of her own, she kept a tight hold of that rock for years to come. Always close to her, you might say it spawned a new fascination.

Shortly before her 15th birthday, the civilization that the colony originally fled from had managed to find them and a war was waged. At the age of 14, Vala ran away from home to help part take in that war. For the other side. She was never attacked by any of the enemies. It was massive bloodshed of the blue-eyed blond people, which fortunately in this circumstance, she wasn't one of. It was swift and one-sided. It was not a matter of good and bad, or right and wrong. It was a matter of alive or dead.

Being as young as she was, she could not just flee the planet with the soldiers of the other side. She had no choice but to join a small band of independent mercenaries. They justified their causes by calling themselves "Freedom Fighters" - an amusing title for a band of low life delinquents. She fit in well enough, growing up learning how to cheat and con, but it was no secret they were bottom feeders; the lowest of the low. Nothing quite so special about them. Never hesitating to commit crimes that repulsed even her. Besides the collective "Freedom Fighting", fights were forged among their ranks as well. Challenges were made, duels were had, and powers were upset. She stood back and watched these tawdry, senseless battles take place one after another. It made her grow anxious and restless. Clearly it was time to move on. If you were a 17 year old girl on a mercenary ship, you might say they got what was coming to them. Why fight them one by one when you could kill them all silently in their sleep?

The vastness of space is no place for such a girl, out on her own. Luckily that's not something a beautiful young teenager much needs to worry about.

Her next colleague was a rogue assassin. Instead of rogue, perhaps you might say "Does not play well with others". His last shipmates had abandoned him. Not so much an obstacle in his eyes as a challenge. Enter one lovely young girl alone with her own ship. He was older, wiser in the ways of the world, not too harsh on the eyes, and terribly charming. He was quite taken with Vala's beauty, finding her to be mostly harmless and amusing. They traveled together as companions for the next few years. He taught her to fight and kill using nearly any method of her choosing. Gun, knife, bare handed; if you can use it to kill, they did. It was no longer about getting the job done. It was about getting the job done in the style. Certain kills require a little more finesse. Sometimes you want to sneak up on your target, and other times you want the last thing they ever see to be your face. When you fight smart, you win. In the end the one who wins, lives. That is all that matters. In the end, he should have taken his own advice. He should not have underestimated her.

Those years are behind her now. Alone no longer feels so alone. Now closing in on 22 years of age, she survives as criminal for hire, a thief, a con artist, an assassin, a renegade. Whatever she can find to keep her on the payroll. Never a life of her desiring, simply a chain of one misfortune after another. She has been known to sigh and say: "Some folks are just in need of killing."

Through the years of travel her fascination with strange and intriguing items continues to grow. You would be wise to call her a collector or a keeper, not a thief. You would not want to end up like the last person that called her a thief. She would never steal someone's hard earned valuables. They were all stolen to begin with, long before she ever laid hands on them. Should someone show a rightful claim to any of those items it is almost certain she would hand them back over. Almost.

"One day" she thinks to herself "I will find a place a can settle down and finally have the life my parents dreamt for me. Yes. One day soon. Right after my next big score."