Holden Wright

Age

38

Height

6' 8"

Weight

280lbs

Job

Bounty Hunter

Pronouns

He/Him

Player

Archy

Overview

One fist of iron, the other of steel.
If the left one don’t get you then the right one will.

Holden is a big man. A quiet man. He was raised on a farm in slave-labor. Despite the forceful nature of his upbringing, he retained a farmers’ patience. The crops grow slowly and time passes as it will. There are things you can change and things you can’t. His view of the world is covered by this simple view.

His years have hardened him. He’s patient, kind to those who deserve it, and merciless to those who don’t. These days he acts as Daisy’s muscle. A support gunner on the Tachi, her support in closer quarters combat, lead boarding party, and the bad cop in an interogation.

Appearance

Think back to the strongest men of the 1800s’ frontiers. That’s Holden. Tall and wide, built like a tank had a biological son. Strong as an ox and tougher than nails. He’s the kind of man who didn’t need augments to bend metal bare-handed. Typically he’s seen wearing a simple jumpsuit, though on those rare occasions that he can fully relax he does wear flannel and jeans.

He has a tatoo on his back of a wolf’s head howling over his shoulder. It’s his mark for The Pack. As he’s opted not to have the genetic mods done, he wanted something to carry them with him.

Genetic Mods

Survival Mods

Holden’s genetics are biased towards creating stronger, denser muscle. He has a higher endurance, in part from the genetics and in part from years of grueling, back-breaking labor. In an intense fight, he can go the distance like few others. When the reactor had a leak, he held his breath for over 3 minutes while running to reach a safety breather.

Tech Mods

Pack-Com Unit

The members of the pack have a comms system embedded in them. It is secure, encrypted, and built by the New Athens engineers custom. That is, it doesn’t have the backdoors of corporate systems. Each node is a data-unit capable of net and voice comms. It can give a convincing illusion of telepathy.

History

Holden was born to a life of slavery on a factory farm in some backwater corporate system. He worked the farms from a far too young age. Every morning was work before the sun rose and it kept going until the moon was high in the sky. It was grueling and slow work, time consuming, boring, and back breaking. It built him into the man he is today, physically. His muscles aren’t the show-off muscles you get at the gym. They’re built to do real work.

Most of that life didn’t bother him. Holden was born to it. He never knew of anything better. His family did their best to offer him more where they could. Smuggled food and small birthday celebrations with presents made from the trash or whatever they could manage. They loved him dearly and tried their best to shelter him, give him what happiness they could manage.

It didn’t stop the cruelties of the world. Beatings were commonplace. If you missed a quota, disobeyed, or failed in anyway, your punishment was pain. Holden hated the cruelty and punishments handed out to his family. Even a minor and inexpensive mistake was met with brutality. They had a variety of methods. Sometimes a limb was removed. Whippings. Or just being beaten down with a club. The company had the option of an implant that would cause pain, but they opted to keep their disciplinary system physical.

Life lasted like that into Holden’s teens. Their owners pushed things too far.

Upper management was visiting, touring the facility, and Holden’s parents made a small mistake. They’d been assigned to dig a trench and in the process splashed a bit of mud on the visiting manager’s nice dress shoes. That afternoon they were savagely punished and by evening, they were dead. It was more than Holden could take.

Over the decades of peaceful operation, the company believed their fear tactics were enough. They didn’t keep guns on the property. If anything like an uprising would happen, they would just send in contract security. Any of their guards had whips, clubs, and even pistols. It would be enough to quell any one or two unruly workers. For a long time, that proved true. Except with Holden.

Holden came in from the fields and saw his parents, both laying dead. He snapped. What came next was a rampage. The farm supervisors tried to stop him. Clubs and whips, but he was used to pain and he was stronger than them. Each one he found, he killed. He fought his way to the visiting executives and he made sure they died in the same manner as his parents: slowly. They begged, pleaded, and offered him his freedom.

Can you offer me my parents? Happiness? A life where I did not see what I saw?
Can you pay for every one of us you have wronged?

In the aftermath, the farm became chaos. No rulers. No managers. Holden took the executive’s shuttle, along with a few of the others. It had a bot pilot and only needed an executive onboard to be activated. They disappeared into the network of stations. The company deemed it unnecessary to set a bounty. If the story ever gained any notoriety, it could only hurt them. Better to pretend it never happened.

They cracked down on the farm, on those who never lefted, established order.

Holden spent a decade trying to learn what he’d never been taught. Trying to figure out the world. Eventually he met Daisy in a bar fight. They started working together. He met Bryn and the pack.

Time may not heal what he’s seen, but he feels good knowing he’s stopping at least some of that evil from spreading.

Affiliation(s)

The Pack

A mixture of organization and found familiy, the Pack is a group of generally canine-themed people who've call come together out of horrible backgrounds. They've banded together to collectively lift each other out of capitalist misery.

Crewed Ship(s)

The Tachi

A relatively new Martian Corvette and legitimate salvage. The Tachi is a mercenary ship, typically sent on missions for snatch and grabs or occasionally an assassination. It's state of the art armaments and some modifications make it a tough little ship in a system full of pirates.