Name: Tia Stormclaw Age: 45 Origin: Zoner, Freeport 7 Family: None Status: Alive, In Hiding Personality: Merciless, Calculating, Highly Disciplined
Abilities: Tia is a master assassin with years of specialized training in infiltration and elimination. Her proficiency in hand-to-hand combat is unmatched, blending a mixture of Kusarian martial arts and street-fighting techniques honed through real-life encounters. She is a weapons expert, proficient with an array of firearms, from compact pistols to high-caliber sniper rifles. Her agility and quick reflexes make her deadly in close-quarters engagements. In addition to her combat skills, Tia is a highly skilled pilot, capable of maneuvering through treacherous asteroid fields and engaging in high-speed dogfights. Her strategic mind allows her to anticipate enemy movements, making her an effective leader in tactical operations. She also possesses a sharp intellect, adept at reading people and situations, making her an invaluable asset in espionage and intelligence gathering.
Biography:
Tia Stormclaw was born aboard Freeport 7, a bustling space station harboring traders, outlaws, and wanderers from all corners of the sector. Her early life was unremarkable until tragedy struck when she was six years old. During a routine journey to Kusari, the vessel she was traveling on was ambushed by pirates. Chaos erupted as laser fire tore through the hull, and amidst the screams and destruction, Tia was stuffed into an escape pod and jettisoned into the void. For days, she drifted aimlessly, the silent expanse of space her only companion, until a passing ship intercepted her distress signal.
Her rescuers were members of the Golden Chrysanthemums, a clandestine and highly trained faction operating within Kusari space. Though she was an outsider, the group took her in, and she quickly adapted to their way of life. Tia learned the Kusarian language and immersed herself in their traditions. More importantly, she trained relentlessly in the ways of the assassin, developing an affinity for silent eliminations, stealth operations, and the precise art of combat.
While the Golden Chrysanthemums provided her a sense of belonging, Tia yearned for something beyond their reach. She wanted to carve her own path among the stars. At eighteen, she bid farewell to the only family she had ever known and embarked on a journey of self-discovery, navigating the uncharted expanse of the galaxy.
Her travels eventually led her to the Omicrons, an unforgiving frontier where law and order were nothing more than abstract concepts. It was here that she first encountered the horrors of the unknown. Assaulted by an overwhelming force of alien vessels, Tia found herself outmatched and on the brink of death. In her darkest hour, salvation arrived in the form of an enigmatic figure known simply as Joker. The man, a seasoned warrior and strategist, dismantled her attackers with practiced precision, leaving her indebted to him.
Recognizing her potential, Joker offered her a place among his ranks—the Blackguard mercenaries. Tia accepted, repaying her life debt by dedicating herself to the unit. Under his command, she led combat teams on high-risk missions—scouting, escorting, and executing targeted strikes. The Blackguard flourished under her leadership, attracting warriors, mercenaries, and outcasts alike. Their home, a formidable warship known as Alexandria, became a sanctuary for the lost and the ruthless.
Everything changed during a routine scouting mission when Tia stumbled upon an active Nomad artifact. Recognizing the potential danger, she and her team acted swiftly, sealing the artifact in a containment field to prevent any signals from escaping. Joker, however, disagreed with their caution, though he did not act upon his objections at the time.
Years passed, and life aboard Alexandria became routine. But beneath the surface, a storm was brewing. Unbeknownst to the crew, Joker had secretly unsealed the artifact, sending out a powerful signal that attracted the attention of the Nomads. The response was swift and devastating. High-class Nomad vessels descended upon the Alexandria, tearing through its defenses with ruthless efficiency. Tia barely escaped with her life, along with the few she trusted most. As they fled, she realized something chilling—none of Joker’s closest men had boarded any of the evacuation ships.
Suspicion turned to certainty as she pieced together the truth: Joker had betrayed them. But she lacked concrete proof. Driven by a need for answers, Tia went into hiding, using her extensive network to uncover the full extent of his treachery. What she learned shattered what little trust she had left. Joker had not only orchestrated the downfall of the Blackguard but had also sacrificed John Derius, one of her closest allies, to serve as proof of his betrayal. Worse still, she discovered that she was next on his list.
Faced with imminent danger, Tia was forced to act. There was no room for hesitation. Her survival depended on swift, decisive action, even if it meant making choices she had once sworn she would never make. Now, she waits in the shadows, preparing for the inevitable confrontation, determined to see Joker answer for his sins.
8.-10.8.823.A.S.
So... where do I even begin? Ah, yes—the assassins in my own home.
Waking up to several bloodthirsty murderers trying to carve me up wasn't exactly a great start to the day. I managed to deal with them, but that only led to an even bigger problem: the entire station was suddenly after me for "disturbing the peace." Right. Like I was supposed to sit there and let them gut me. With no time to argue my case, I grabbed my gear, jumped into my old Stargazer, and hightailed it to Heisenberg. I needed to rearm and reequip, and, thankfully, no one seemed to be tailing me. My research, my investigation—months of work—had just gone up in flames. But at least I managed to salvage the most important data onto my hard drive. That was something, at least.
The good news? I had enough information to track her down. Finding her wouldn't be the hard part. Getting her to talk? That was another story.
After fully outfitting my beautiful Falchion with better equipment, I made my way to Liberty. I wasn’t thrilled about the idea, but I told myself, “What the hell? Let’s do this.” My first stop was Barrier Gate. No luck. Dead ends, vague rumors, and people who either didn't know or didn't care.
Then I remembered: she had some kind of connection with Hellfire. And if Hellfire was involved, Kansas was the place to check. So I headed there. It didn’t take long before I was intercepted by one of the Hellfire pilots. After introducing myself and asking about her whereabouts, I got nothing but stone-cold silence. Loyal little bastard. But no matter—there are always other ways.
Frustrated, I returned to Freeport 4, hoping she might reach out first. That hope didn’t last long. I knew she wasn’t going to contact me on her own. So I took the direct approach and went looking for the pilot who told me to wait.
Luck finally turned in my favor. I ran into a few high-ranking Auxesian officers. Unlike the Hellfire lackey, they actually gave me something useful: a way to contact her. Not wanting to take any chances with more assassins on my trail, I needed a place to lie low. California Minor. No one goes there willingly, which made it the perfect hiding spot—for a day or two, at least.
With my comm channel secure, I set up a new encryption—F.A.N.G. I like the name. Has a nice ring to it.
Then, the moment of truth. I opened the channel: "Greetings, Raven..."
Her response was almost immediate, and of course, she was laughing her ass off. But at least she was listening. That was progress. I laid out my proposal, gave her my terms. Now, all I can do is wait for her answer.
While waiting, I decided to keep myself occupied. Ended up assisting some of her allies—Freelancers and a few others—against bounty hunters and some Navy boys. A full-on skirmish, complete with a damn Dreadnought. It went south fast. We were all shot down.
But once again, luck was on my side. I masked my pod, drifted my way to Los Angeles, and managed to get a new ship from an old dealer I knew.
That was the mantra I lived by back in the old Blackguard.
With some free time on my hands, I decided to do something different for a change—found myself an escort job for a convoy. IMG. They paid well, promised to stay in touch. Not bad. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that assassins were lurking somewhere, waiting for the right moment. But luck was on my side this time—nothing happened. No attacks, no sudden ambushes. Just smooth sailing.
Took the opportunity to kick back while they mined ore. Grabbed a pizza, cracked open a beer, and actually enjoyed myself for once. The crew was friendly, and for a moment, I almost forgot about the looming danger constantly breathing down my neck. Almost.
Once the job was done, I made my way to Singapore Shipyard in Tau-44. Damn, that place was freezing. Should’ve packed a better jacket..
After a few hours of much-needed rest, I set a course back to Coronado, right near that Nomad gate. Nothing out of the ordinary, so I pushed on to Rheinland. That’s where things got interesting.
Ran into a guy they call Endurance—caught him locked in a fight against three Hessians. He wasn’t alone, though. Amanda was there, along with some Rheinland lawfuls. The odds were still rough, so I jumped in to even them out. The Hessians put up a fight, but in the end, we took them down. Four and a half million credits straight into my account. Not a bad payday. Endurance mentioned they’d be in touch soon—curious to see what they’ve got for me.
With some credits in my pocket, I set my sights on Tohoku, still chasing answers about Joker. It didn’t take long before his assassins found me. They always do. Just to make things worse, a bruiser showed up, forcing me into a quick retreat. I had a gut feeling more would follow if I stuck around too long.
Managed to capture and interrogate one of his men before making my escape. Didn’t take much persuasion to get him talking. Turns out, Nikolai Arlov—one of the Blackguard’s best assassins—is working for Joker without question. Worse yet, Joker has gotten his hands on several "active" artifacts. No idea what they do, but I need to find out—fast.
The guy had served his purpose, so I ended the conversation with a bullet to the head.
Made my way back to Coronado, only to find more of Joker’s people waiting for me. Didn’t even have time to figure out if they were actually his men before all hell broke loose. Endurance, Raven, and a few other Auxesians arrived from Barrier Gate, but so did several Wild members and two Nomad-loving Outcasts.
The fight was pure chaos. We were outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and trying to hold our own against some of the deadliest pilots out there. I took a bad hit—lost control and crashed straight into the station.
And just like that, everything was gone. My cargo, four Wild prisoners, ten inactive artifacts—all lost.
So much for a good day.
Closing this log for now. Here’s to hoping tomorrow isn’t as much of a disaster. And I need to check my damn guns.
"The best way to hide from an enemy is to stay in the shadow right under their nose."
That’s what Z. used to say. It never made more sense than now.
After spending time on Gran Canaria searching for any leads on Joker, I realized I was chasing a ghost. Tracking him directly was leading me nowhere, so I changed my approach. Instead of looking for the man himself, I set my sights on his right hand—Nikolai Arlov. That gamble paid off. Unlike Joker, Nikolai wasn’t hiding in the dark corners of the sector. Instead, for reasons unknown, he had chosen to linger on Cambridge. That alone raised questions. Cambridge wasn’t exactly the place for someone like him to lay low. Too many eyes, too many ears. Something was off, and I didn’t like how this was escalating. I needed to tread carefully.
Journal Update: Artifact Research
The first artifact in Joker’s possession is suspected to be the Daam K’Vosh Mapping Artifact. From what I’ve gathered, it’s capable of pinpointing its exact location anywhere in the universe. In the past, artifacts like this have been sought after just to glimpse a fragment of their maps. If it contains information on alien races beyond the Daam K’Vosh and the Slomon K’hara… well, that’s an entirely different kind of danger. There’s no telling what Joker is planning, but I can be certain it isn’t good.
One of his intercepted transmissions mentioned a man named Nomak. The name rings alarm bells. I've heard whispers about him, none of them good. If Joker is looking for him, I need to be on high alert.
Meanwhile, my allies remain safe, ready to join forces with Saph’s Auxesia. I can only hope this alliance doesn’t turn into a war we don’t need right now. My priority is still Joker, but if Saph requires assistance, I’ll be there. She mentioned her inability to fly much lately—something she didn’t elaborate on. There are only a few reasons why a pilot would be grounded, none of them good. I’ll have to keep an eye on that.
I was forced to abandon my search on Gran Canaria when my cover was compromised. I made a quick escape and took a detour through a system linked to Cortez via a jump hole hidden near the ice field. Along the way, I encountered two Order agents but ignored them. I wasn’t in the mood for unnecessary complications.
I stopped at Barrier Gate for a short breather before setting off for Cambridge. Along the way, I crossed paths with Saph. She was heading back to Coronado, but something about her movements didn’t sit right with me. She’s been keeping things from me—understandable, given my history with Joker. I can’t blame her for being cautious. Doesn’t mean I won’t try to uncover what she’s hiding.
Cambridge. Fresh air so crisp, you could survive a month on Pittsburgh without coughing up black dust. It’s the kind of place that could turn anyone sentimental—romantic sunsets, pristine landscapes, high-end restaurants. Shame I don’t have the time or the person for any of it.
I need to find someone who knows this place well enough to point me in the right direction. Until then, I’ll lie low and see if Raven or Endurance can help secure a safehouse.
Before moving forward, I’m running maintenance on my weapons. Here’s what I’m packing:
I think of myself first. If someone needs me, I look for a way it will benefit me.
-Yousei Vermillion
I've had this thing for a long time. It was given to me by the sisters who raised me and taught me everything I know. “It’s a key. A key to unlocking all the mysteries, and when the time comes, it will lead you to its door.”
The damn thing has been glowing for a while now. Am I supposed to go somewhere? But where? No clue. I can only hope this road leads me straight to putting a bullet between Joker’s eyes. Though I can’t shake the feeling that Raven might be his first target.
For now, I’m keeping low in the Leeds Resistance Base, but I won’t stay long. Can’t afford to. Leeds has always been dangerous, and I have no intention of overstaying my welcome.
New Tokyo. Home sweet home.Never thought I’d be so relieved to see it. The scent of old factories still lingers in the air, clinging to the streets like a stubborn memory. Kusarians are just as poised and disciplined as ever. The food? As good as I remember.
My bike is still parked near my old apartment—I’ll need it later, so I load it onto my ship before heading inside. The view from here is just as breathtaking as it always was. From this window, I can see every ship coming in from the Docking Ring and every soul leaving through it.
But it’s not just the city that makes me love this place. The real beauty of New Tokyo lies beyond the towering buildings and neon-soaked streets. The untouched wilderness outside the city, the rolling green hills and serene temples—that is worth dying for.
I let out a slow breath, staring at the horizon, and before I know it, a single tear slips free.
I think of her.
Yes. I had someone once. A partner. A love. Most people doubted our relationship would last six years, but it did. And if you’re assuming I’m talking about a man, you’re wrong. I don’t fit into a neat little box. I never have. After the fall, we were forced apart, and I never saw her again. I have no idea where she is now, what she’s doing, or if she’d even want to see me.
Hell, if I showed up unannounced, she’d probably shoot me on sight.
I don’t know where her group stands now, but when I find them, I’ll go to them. When I’m ready. When the time is right. But for now… I need sleep. My head is killing me.
You know, your actions haven't gone unnoticed upon the fields. I'm moderately impressed by your efforts to assist us.
Now, concerning this artifact, I don't believe such an item was told of before. A map would have to exist for a reason of sorts, and most maps are heavily encrypted with some old security measures and glyphs that require translation. Tell me more about this... artifact - as active ones are always rare for a good reason. What is the origin for example?
If you require arms dealers, seek the main cities emporium. There should be plenty of weapons to purchase. Legal or otherwise. The fleet is somewhat on the defensive, at the moment. I may or may not have a job for you, but we'll see.
Actually, no, wait... I do have something for you to do.
I want you to find some information about the Order. Learn about their fleet positions and how many assets they have. They're currently on a dumb operation which is a waste of time, and a waste of effort. I want to know their positions, how many /more/ of the Order are deployed down here, primarily the capital vessels, and if they'll loiter after this said operation is done.
Obviously, don't get caught, or don't even mention Auxesia. This is kind of important for us.
Great. Finally, something to do. Let’s see… Order assets… capital ships only?
Alright. Writing this down:
Osiris-class battleship (unknown loadout)
Resheph Recon Cruiser (unknown loadout)
Gunboats? At least two Hathor-class, likely more. Unknown armaments.
I’ll need to keep this in mind. That’s the initial list. Time to dig deeper. If they’re lurking near the Barrier Gate, they might be the reason for the increased Nomad activity in Coronado. And that is a problem I don’t need right now.
Time to move. I’ve got some investigating—and maybe some Nomad killing—to do.
Damn the Navy. Damn the Order, Core, Outcasts, Nomads—hell, damn all of them. They never fail to make things harder, not just for me, but for The Blackguard.
It’s been a while since I last wrote in this thing. A lot has happened. The Blackguard has been reformed, and our mission is clear—Joker dies, along with anyone foolish enough to stand with him.
Z ran into trouble with the Navy, and guess who was there? Kalh of the Amenhotep, sitting pretty in his uniform. Asylum. That bastard took asylum with the Navy and somehow climbed his way up to Commodore of the goddamn 5th Fleet. Acting like he owns the place, like he's running the entire government. The arrogance. Where the hell is Darius when you need him? That man would’ve sorted this mess out.
I should’ve taken my shot when I had the chance—Kalh and Golanski, playing politics in Coronado. Would’ve been easy. One moment they’re kissing Colonial ass, the next, gone. But no. That window’s long closed.
Alright. Breathe. I need to focus.
Despite the setbacks, The Blackguard is gaining ground. People are hearing about us more and more. Whispers in the dark. That’s exactly what I want. Power in the shadows.
And then there’s the blueprints. Found something interesting—a battlecruiser design. I’m putting it to use. Resource collection is already underway, and when it’s done, this thing is going to be big. A symbol of our strength. A warning to our enemies.
The new recruits? Not bad. A little rough around the edges, but they’ve got potential. They just need the right push. Z’s still around, and that alone gives us some solid firepower.
For now, there’s nothing more to say. Nothing more to write.
*yawn* … I’ve been bored. Not with flying—never with flying—but with everything in between. The downtime. The waiting.
I needed something to do, so I made a decision: find new allies against the Outcasts. I don’t know when we might need each other, so I reached out to the Corsairs. Not my first choice, but let’s be honest—I don’t have the luxury of being picky. The Commune’s getting desperate. They’ve called in the Reavers.
The Reavers… just another pack of mercs who went quiet for a while. Problem is, they follow the credits, and that can be useful—or a pain in the ass.
I’ve been getting too comfortable lately, underestimating my enemies. That nearly cost me. Nomak dodged the Corsairs, but he didn’t dodge me. He got a shot in, along with some Reaver bastard, but I knew he was at the end of the line. So I took my chance—I rammed him hard. His ship went down with me right on top of it.
That damn Reaver had sharp aim, though. Annoyingly so. We went head-on, I gave him hell, but even with half my hull left, I knew I wouldn’t last long against someone like him. I need to be smarter. Stronger.
On another note, the ship’s construction has begun. The Blackguard now holds an IRG cell, two Nomad Derelict Artifacts, about 46 dead Wilde pilots, and several units of Azurite gas. Not bad. Not bad at all. I plan to move everything onto the ship, let the research happen there—properly.
Now, the name… I remember Joker calling it Tempris. Something about fire. Flame. Whatever. But you know what? It fits.
The Blackguard War Vessel Tempris.
I like the sound of that.
No sign of Joker yet, but the new recruits are proving themselves. We’re getting stronger. We’re making moves.
Let’s keep pushing. Let’s show them who really runs this show.
Still running small errands for the Kaigun, and you know what? I’m actually enjoying it. Simple exploration jobs—good business for The Blackguard. Easy credits.
No word from Joker. Not that I expected any. He’s gone deeper underground, and at this point, I don’t even flinch at the silence. Brooks is out hunting for leads—maybe he’ll dig up something useful.
Aside from that, Sirius has been weirdly quiet. Well, mostly. I keep running into crazed LPI officers who attack me for no damn reason. And then there are the pirates—ones who claim to have some big-shot ties to the Imperial Navy. I don’t trust it. Not yet. But I threw an offer his way—join The Blackguard. Let’s see if he takes the bait.
The guys have been keeping things running smooth with the IMG. Our bank is filling up nicely. Credits are flowing.
And yet… I don’t know. Something’s been off these past few weeks. I feel lonely. Maybe it’s time to find someone to spend my downtime with. Only problem? The one person I’d actually want to date right now is sitting in a very high position in the Libertonian Lawful forces. Can’t exactly get reckless there. Still…
Speaking of which, I need to figure out how to pull a friend out of a certain prison. That’s going to take careful planning. No screw-ups.
For now, I’ve got to set up a mission for The Blackguard. Hoping it goes smoothly—quietly would be nice for once.
On the bright side, I’m feeling good. Training’s back on track. I never know when I’ll end up in a fight on solid ground, and I’d rather be ready for it.
That’s all for now. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.
Hah. I almost forgot this thing was still on my ship. My old logs are still here, filled with memories—some good, some… less so. But no time for nostalgia. A lot has changed over the past year, and now that I’ve finally broken free, I can get back to doing what I do best—flying, fighting, gunning freely.
So, here’s what went down:
I was on the verge of closing a weapons deal with some Corsairs when things went sideways. Ambushed. Barely made it out alive. Ended up crash-landing on Nauru—hell of a place to be stranded, but I didn’t have time to linger. I kept moving, dodging threats, and somehow found myself on Malta. Spent a few months there before hitching a ride on a transport bound for Gallia. That was where I got lucky.
Ran into an old friend who pulled some strings and got me a ship—nothing fancy, but it was mine. I took it straight back to Sirius, eager to reconnect. First thing I did was reach out to Z, and that’s when I learned he had landed himself a solid position with Auxesia. Figured I’d try to get back in as an affiliate, but for some reason, I thought they were ignoring me. Turns out, my dumb ass just didn’t see Raven’s comm. Smooth, Tia. Real smooth.
After giving it some thought, I realized I needed to go back to my roots. Home.
Kusari. The Golden Chrysanthemums.
They raised me, shaped me, turned me into who I am. And while I won’t be rejoining them outright—I’m not one to be tied down—I will work alongside them as a freelancer. My soul is meant to be free, but my heart will always belong with them.
From station to station, from planet to planet—nine years of running, nine years of killing, nine years of looking over my shoulder, waiting for the next blade in the dark. Every day was the same. Every new sunrise, every jump through a trade lane, every docking sequence—it all felt like an endless cycle, a loop I could never escape.
They hunted me.
I hunted them.
Every agent, every informant, every loose end that even whispered the names Joker and Nikolai—gone. Erased. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. They didn’t get to live long enough to tell the tale, and I wasn’t about to let them. Every assassin I suspected of trailing me, every operative that so much as gave me the wrong look—dead. Their corpses, scattered across the void, left drifting in silent testimony to the life I was forced to live.
For nine years, the only certainty I had was the weight of my weapon in my hands and the knowledge that if I hesitated for even a second, I would be the one left bleeding out on some nameless rock.
But now, it's over.
The loose ends are tied. The shadows that once stalked me have been cut down, one by one. No more coded transmissions warning me of incoming hit squads. No more encrypted bounties with my name stamped across them. No more looking over my shoulder, waiting for someone to put a bullet in my skull while I sleep.
I can breathe.
I can stop running.
For the first time in years, I have the luxury of thinking about something beyond survival. I can plan. I can build. I can start again.
First things first—I need a ship. A real one, something I can call my own, something that won’t fall apart in the middle of a dogfight. I need something fast, something with teeth, something that can slip through the cracks of the sector without drawing too much attention. No more stolen rides. No more hitching transport with smugglers or taking passage on freighters bound for nowhere. My own ship, my own path.
And I know exactly where to go first. The Kusari-Liberty border.
Tensions are brewing. The air is thick with the smell of war, even from the outer systems. The embargo has thrown both sides into a spiral, and every whisper I’ve caught in back-alley bars and encrypted channels tells me the same thing: this isn’t just another trade dispute. This is the kind of powder keg that turns into a full-blown conflict overnight.
I need to see it for myself.
I need to be there, in the thick of it, watching it unfold with my own eyes. Not just because it’s the best place to gather information, but because something about it feels... inevitable.
I don’t know where this road will take me. I don’t know if I’ll be forced to pick a side, if I’ll be dragged into another war I don’t want to fight, or if I’ll find something worth holding onto out there.
But I do know one thing.
For the first time in years, I’m moving toward something—not away from it.
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