Travellers - Florts's Category Logs - Personal Log: Flort Blitzen - Calendar - Flort's Discovery Table? - Backstory Comparison Table - Florts's Equipment - Wages Of Sin
Captain Flort Blitzen
Race: Human Sex: Male Age: 38
| ---Physical--- | -DM- | ---Mental--- | -DM- |
|---|---|---|---|
| STR: 05 | -1 | INT: 12 | +2 |
| DEX: 10 | +1 | EDU: 07 | +0 |
| END: 07 | +0 | SOC: 06 | +0 |
| ---Skills--- | ---Level--- | -Mod- | - | ---Skills--- | ---Level--- | -Mod- |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Admin | 2 | *1 | - | Gun Combat (Slug) | 1 | 0 |
| Advocate | 1 | 0 | - | Heavy Weapon | 0 | 0 |
| Athletics | 0 | 0 | - | Investigate | 1 | 0 |
| Broker | 3 | *1 | - | Melee | 0 | 0 |
| Carouse | 1 | 0 | - | Persuade | 1 | 0 |
| Deception | 1 | 0 | - | Recon | 2 | 0 |
| Diplomat | 1 | 0 | - | Steward | 1 | 0 |
| Drive | 0 | 0 | - | Streetwise | 1 | 0 |
| Electronics | 0 | 0 | - | Unskilled Skill | -3 | 0 |
| Electronics (Computer) | 0 | *1 | - | Electronics (Sensors) | 0 | *1 |
| Electronics (Comms) | 0 | *1 | - | Engineering (All) | *0 | 0 |
| Astrogation | *0 | 0 | - | Mechanic | *0 | 0 |
| Tactics (Naval) | *0 | 0 | - | Tactics (Military | *0 | 0 |
| Gun Combat Energy | 2 | 0 | - | Vacc-Suit | 0 | 0 |
- Expert/1 Software Max Difficulty 10 for skill or bonus
| ---Study--- | --Periods-- | -Weeks- |
|---|---|---|
| Pilot | --0-- | --0-- |
Age 18 – Term 1: Cavalryman
Flort Blitzen was born lowborn on the industrial backwater world of Fist, a place where distrust of the law ran deep and apathy was a survival trait. Flort inherited both. He dreamt of seeing the stars but had no real drive—just a lazy kind of yearning. Trying to skip the hard road, he applied to the Fist Military Academy, more out of convenience than ambition. Though accepted, he couldn’t help chasing one of the few illegal vices left on Fist: Analgathics. Caught in the act, he was dragged before a local judge and summarily expelled from the Academy. Offered a choice between incarceration and conscription, Flort chose the Army Cavalry. Assigned as a peacekeeper, Flort drifted through the term without distinction until he was volunteered for an augmentation experiment. He emerged with a cybernetic arm and an embedded drug injection system, the latter a cruel irony considering his original offense. The experience left him bitter. He still considers it a betrayal—his body mutilated by the same world that had denied him every other opportunity.
Age 22 – Term 2: Merchant Life & Bitter Betrayals
Still chasing Analgathics, Flort found a friend in Garn Talverin, a smooth-talking merchant with a knack for spotting desperate talent. Garn brought him aboard, began training him as a Broker, and for a time it looked like Flort had found his second chance. Then came a smuggling run gone wrong—very wrong. Garn had sent Flort in expecting him to die. Maybe to tie up a loose end, maybe to dodge a debt. But Flort, armed with his augment and a sudden surge of survival instinct, escaped. He confronted Garn and walked away alive. They parted as enemies. Today, each still quietly wishes the other dead.
Age 26 – Term 3: The Angel’s Luck
Flort drifted from port to port, still unable to find Analgathics, but he did find a place aboard the Angel’s Luck, a Far Trader run by a crew willing to overlook a few quirks. As the ship’s Broker, he excelled—until his casual disregard for legal niceties got him arrested. Rather than go quietly, he defended himself in court with just enough charm and just enough truth to walk free. The Angel’s Luck took him back—though the crew kept a closer eye on their cargo and their Broker.
Age 30 – Term 4: Lawless Ambitions
By now, Flort had accepted that he wasn’t getting his youthful high back. But he hadn’t stopped looking. He lacked the contacts to find what he wanted, and his frustration simmered. Another arrest for smuggling followed. Once again, Flort talked his way out, arguing his case with a lawyer’s tongue and a drunk’s conviction.
He got off. Again. Even he wasn’t sure how.
Age 34 – Term 5: Captain of the Damned
Somewhere along the way, Flort stopped chasing Analgathics and started looking for something else: a legacy. A contact in Arunisir, a merchant known to handle grey cargo, known only as Mr. Green, pointed him toward Captain Turkos Veer, a washed-up smuggler drowning in debts and regret. The ship was barely spaceworthy. The deal was barely legal. And the handshake was sealed with a bottle of bourbon. Flort took ownership, paid the bare minimum to get her flying, and named her with a smirk: The Wages of Sin.
