Sarah [mechanic]

[GIR]

__________________QUICK STATS
Name Sarah (also goes by Delta-23, but only among other ex-slaves)
Age 516
Gender female
Species Draconian
Ethnicity An odd mix of Hestari, various human and nonhuman cultures, and Draconian.
Height 5'1" (magic-based immune systems do not protect against genetic mutations.)
Occupation Mechanic
Residence Sassy Juice

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Sarah is a dwarf. Not a beard-and-Stone dwarf, a genetic dwarf. At 5'1", she holds the record for the shortest fully-developed Draconian, though, curiously, she is only slightly slower and less powerful than 'normal' Draconians. Her scales are a deep violet with navy blue stripes marking her as one of the Original Stock, and her tail blade is, oddly enough, chipped, as if a small piece of the left tip had broken off. Her eyes are dark blue, and the left one bears a small scar on the cornea. She wears a suit of armor a former master had made for her.

Personality
Sarah is... not like her people. At least, the ones of the same species. Generally. She is a deadpan snarker and a rather foul-tempered person, particularly when the discussion turns to slavery and/or servitude. Aside from snarking at the people she feels are being stupid (or annoying...), she tends to keep away from others, a habit she picked up from a life of needing to be seen, not heard. She likes warm, dry places and tends to fiddle around with various machines in her spare time. She is not bothered by her height, and views it objectively as a mistake in her genetic code, often to the disappointment of those who would ridicule her for it. Sarah is proud of her name, viewing it as a gift from a close friend, and of her armor, as a reminder of the first master to show her respect and offer her freedom.

Magic/Abilities
[see 'Draconians' for the basics]

Sarah is something of a mechanical savant, able to take apart and reassemble virtually any machine, thanks to intense training by a previous master (her favorite, whose name for her she still bears.), as well as her own studies. She is also what is known among her people as a 'magic weaver'. A female with an affinity for magic which is rare even among the Original Stock, allowing her to bend it to her will, within the constraints of things magic can do, an ability she mostly uses to convert magic into whatever parts she needs to make repairs or upgrades to something. She is also well-versed in fighting, though her style is a bit unrefined and unorthodox for her kind.

Relationships

History
Sarah, until recently, lived a life of being transferred from one master to another as a slave. Shortly after she was laid, the ship her mother was serving aboard was ambushed by an enemy in a war Sarah barely remembers. The ship made it out, but was severely damaged, and dropped out of the Void in an area frequented by slavers.

As one would expect, a wounded beast is quickly set upon by roaming predators, and the ship was lost to a slaver fleet, its hatchery damaged nearly to the point of being lost. The egg containing the female who would come to be known as slave Delta-Twenty-Three was cracked, but not broken, the damage creating the environmental factors which activated a genetic mutation which would have remained latent otherwise.

Twenty-Three's earliest clear memories are of a master who treated her as an animal, never acknowledging her sentience, never allowing her to walk on two legs, and never allowing her to speak. Punishment for acting like a sentient being was meted out by way of a restraining collar she had worn since hatching, a collar which also inhibited her strength, speed, and poison resistance, but not her reaction time. This master was a cruel, selfish, self-entitled creature that met its end at the end of her tail one night as it slept, having forgotten to make sure its slave was safely forced into sleep.

The next master to own Delta-Twenty-Three was a general on a distant world. This master regarded her as a weapon, and also as a conscripted soldier, keeping an eye on her at all times, but allowing her to act as she would. During this period, her restraining collar was on its lowest setting, allowing her most of her most formidable traits. For two hundred years, a Draconian dwarf made herself a legend on a small, not-well-known world, her master winning victory after victory against an oppressive enemy, until the day she struck down a tyrant. With that final blow, she was 'freed', her master removing her collar and bowing to her as he gestured toward the door to the palace they'd taken. Little did either know that it would be less than ten minutes before she was once more a slave and he lay dead, murdered by slavers who branded him a thief. She was allowed to keep the armor only because she chose to cooperate, thinking it would save the man who had tried to set her free.

Several cruel masters owned Delta-Twenty-Three in the century which followed, each more selfish and cruel than the last, and each a master Delta-Twenty-Three has driven from her memories as best she can. That she kept her armor during this time was a testament to the impression she left with the slavers who truly owned her, part of the purchase contract for her now stipulating that her armor was to remain in her possession at all times. It was for this reason alone that said masters did not share the fate of her first.

Sarah's next master of note would give her the name she now bears proudly. A budding young mechanic, this master, she owned a tiny shop and bought Sarah in order to have an assistant. The training this master, Kelly, gave Sarah was more rigorous than the General's. and the teacher vastly more perfectionistic. For nearly fifty years, Sarah trained in analysing and repairing machines of all sorts as the small shop grew and grew, until she was nearly as good as the woman who taught her.

"Repair work is not the place of a slave. It is a thinking being's job. Since you have the job, and can do it, you must be a thinking being. You need a name.", Kelly told her one day, "Sarah. That's what I'll call you. I've done some research, and your species doesn't give surnames. I don't know where you were born, so I can't give you a proper title. Don't look at me like that, you aren't a slave any more, your contract clearly states that you are to become a paid servant upon completion of your training. Anyway, now that you have a name and a paycheck due to you, you won't be needing this.", she continued, removing the collar for the last time it would ever be removed. The next hundred-and-forty years would see Sarah improve in her duties as a mechanic, and a bond grow between servant and mistress. So it was that their last goodbye would be as friends. Kelly, on her deathbed, had left the shop to her sister, and her tools and a voucher for transportation to the Cancer to her now-former servant, freeing Sarah, this time, for real, as the clever mechanic had tricked the slavers into agreeing to Sarah's freedom upon Kelly's natural death.

Sarah heard of the Sassy Juice via word-of-mouth on the Cancer, and has decided to join the crew, if at all possible.
__________________THREAD TRACKER

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