Daughter of Night
Elder vessel Remnant - Reis system - Tempestas Rim
She ran through the deepest and oldest corridors of the Elder vessel, pushing herself against no one but her own goals, twisting and turning along the darkened pathways, long forgotten in the belly of the ancient ship. Her mind clear as she easily navigated in the darkness of the service tunnels, her focus solely on her slow breathing and heart beat.
She had made the vessel her home in the last three years, the flagship around which the new Remnant Hold gathered. She had followed her Captain here when she was elected its leader. The smallest of the new divisions within the Armada but the one that had the largest number of true combat ships.
Seven years ago, at the height of the Bloodshed Uprising, she had been a captive at Purgatory Omega. The largest and most infamous penal colonies in the galaxy, before The Armada came calling and took over the facilities. They released wave upon wave of psychopaths and killers, arming them and giving their own crafts, so they could spread ahead of flotilla sowing terror and panic. Exacting revenge upon the worlds that had lock them up and thrown away the keys.
The common rabble stayed behind, trying to create their own fiefdom in their corner of the galaxy, but a few hundred, the meanest and most dangerous of the inmates, were offered the opportunity to join the ranks and take the fight to the GDF and High Council.
She remembered being incarcerated in a Class 5 containment cell. She was allowed no access to anything of a physical nature. Books, clothes, bedding, nothing. Her containment cell was placed behind a triple airlock, to avoid her escape. There were always three guards on duty at all times outside her cell, and two guards on remote monitoring duty.
The years of incarceration although few had been a nightmare. Floodlights had been installed in the walls of the containment chamber, and were on at all times. They knew the light suppressed her abilities.
By now over 80% of her pigmentation was a true black, while the rest of her skin has a complete lack of melanin, to the point of albinism. Her eyes are also a dark black in colour. This change in her pigmentation appeared to occur as she grew older. But sometimes she thought that the more she killed, the darker her skin became.
She had always demonstrated severe homicidal tendencies and had displayed a remarkable ability to use any item as a weapon. She could not recall any training or the like. She just knew the best way to use an item as an weapon just by looking at it. While she was in her pubescent years she had already killed hundreds in the hive city of her birth, however, she had a severe compulsion against shedding blood, preferring instead to strangle her victims. She outgrew those notions when she joined the ranks.
As she grew she showcased dexterity and physical reactions five times as fast as the average humanoid and also extensive resistance to damage of all forms. It was these almost extra human abilities that were greatly hampered in the presences of bright or direct light, natural or artificial. She has never met anyone quite like her. The guards whispered she had to be some sort of genetical mutt. A lab experiment. She tended to agree. She knew she was unique. A living weapon. An assassin. At one with shadows.
Once she joined The Armada, she left her old name behind, but the brethren came to refer to her as Ch’elema which roughly translated to 'Daughter of Night,' in ancient Void.
By a twist of fate she made her way to the "Pride of Turusqua", in those early days, the flagship of her Captain. Deka Turvanis. An older woman with high cheek bones and short cropped grey hair. She took her under her wing. Became her mentor, her master. Gave her focus. Gave her purpose. No Captain had more void battles under Armadan colours than her. And she was her Captain's right hand. Her enforcer. Her blade in the dark.