The Ximanez Family hails from the small labouring town of New Costa, Crete, and traces its lineage back to the Hispania, and lifeboat l-34.
STEVE
The Ximanez family patriarch Stephano Montoya 'Steve' Ximanez is a stern and capable man of 55 years of age, who holds the high honor of Admiral of the fleet (Azure) in the Corsair splinter group Centinels del Cielo [CC].
The Ximanez family are a pure-blooded military family, with every able-bodied member serving at some level with the Centinels del Cielo. Juan-Carlos Ximanez , Juan Ximanez and Carlos Ximanez are the sons of Stephano, and all they are proud military officers in their own right, holding commander ranks across the [CC] Fleets.
The Ximanez family has a tragic legacy, however.
Stephano's wife Carla, the mother of Juan , Juan-Carlos and Carlos, died tragically in a Nomad assault on a Corsair cruiser, whilst still pregnant with the twins. Although the children survived, cut from the womb of their screaming mother, the nature of the attack and the family's miraculous survival, has given the Ximanez clan an almost supernatural reputation as Nomad hunters.
Steve Ximanez in particular, is a fierce opponent of Alien cultures and their interference in mankind's affairs, and runs a furious crusade against the alien threat - A fury that the Centinels del Cielo is only too willing to put to good use, as it matches their own strict policies.
JUAN
Steve's sons are no less capable: Juan Ximanez is a brilliant engineer, and has overseen some innovative military projects, leading to faster, more efficient repairs and other classified advancements in Corsair warfare technology. This expertise has more than made up for a troubled personal history: He holds a full command post despite having a criminal record for breaching a peace treaty with the Zoners: An action taken several years ago when a Nomad gunship had hijacked a Corsair freighter and abducted its crew to serve as parasitic hosts. Juan pursued the vessel across five systems and destroyed it, despite being severely outgunned in his Titan.
Carlos
Where Juan is the Black sheep of the Ximanez family, Carlos is the solid shephard: taking after his father in authoritative leadership: Carlos is a military teacher at the Academia del Perdido: the elite fighter training college of the Corsairs. He is an expert in close quarter combat, and like his father has written books on the strategies of space warfare.
I am not a native English Speaker, so i make grammar errors.
But it annoys me when people make silly comments about that... especially brits who for the most part can't speak their own language let alone anyone elses!
Stephano 'Steve' Ximanez stood alone at the bridge of the Rock of Gibraltar.
The night shift was absent tonight: As usual when the mighty ship was in safe harbor, only a skeleton crew usually remained on watch, but this evening the captain had given them permission to get an extra 4 hours sleep. He would take the midnight vigil alone. This was his right as commander.
This was his habit of long years.
An impossibly thin crystallized aluminum window gave him the sight he had waited for, as the slow rotation of the planet Rabat brought a familiar sight into view:
First the tiniest of twinkles, reflected in the glare of a distant sun. Then a dark speck of matter, that grew to substantial, massive form as the minutes passed. The dark shape split, separated, and the twin forms of Casablanca and Perdido rose into being.
Perdido was ready.
The massive stationary guns of her satellites loomed silently as the Rock cruised silently towards the colossal structure: Academia del Perdido; The greatest Corsair construction in recent history, and a determined spear-thrust into the heart of the Omega 47 system.
'That station is a tribute to you, father'.
Stephano smiled.
'Juan. I had hoped you would be here.'
The grey figure strode respectfully into the dim light, stopping but a meter away. 'We arrived not two days ago. The entire fleet gathers here now for the baptism. The baptism of the child you have brought into the world.'
Stephano said nothing.
Juan Ximanez was as grim and stoic a man as his father, but now he hesitated. The grey old Commander continued to stare out beyond the void, deep in contemplation. Juan waited respectfully.
Eventually: 'What you have wrought here will bring a new age to our empire father.'
Steve's head bowed a little. An acknowledgement perhaps - Or regret? He turned to his son, who noted the burdensome weight of years and command on his father's shoulders.
'He has aged,' thought Juan.
Then his father spoke:
'We have wrought here the beginning of a new conflict'.
- That conflict shall be unlike any that has gone before.'
His tone was as grim as Juan had ever remembered, and from any other man this would have seemed a simple bloodlust. From his father it was simply prophesy.
The old man continued quietly: 'Our old enemies will know a fear unlike any they have thus known, and this new installation shall be the very cradle of that fear. Stars shall be extinguished under the fury of our assault. Children a hundred generations hence shall stop to consider the wrath we unleashed here. Infierno was but the match to the fuse. With Perdido we shall teach them what it means to burn.
Juan corrected himself. 'Not aged,'
His father seemed now the epic figure that he had heard others tell of in hushed tones.
'Grown.'
He smiled at his father 'As we would wish it'.
The commander smiled. His shoulders straightened 'Indeed - As we would wish it'.
The sun burned.
The station glowed.
The guns shone like the promise of new blood.
...........................
I am not a native English Speaker, so i make grammar errors.
But it annoys me when people make silly comments about that... especially brits who for the most part can't speak their own language let alone anyone elses!
Stephano Ximanez stepping into the bar, looking around and saying: "Still the same as before."
He finally notices his family, Carlos, Juan, Bablo, Pedro, Lisbeth and Oliver, sitting quietly at the table in the back.
Bablo is still a proud member of the Brotherhood.
While Pedro still proudly carries the Black Sails flag, although there are rumors of dissension and splits within the famous group.
Young Lisbeth, Carlos's daughter, fiery, hot-tempered, constantly flies around with Pedro and learns how a proper pirate should live.
Oliver, Juan's son, joined our Deterrence folks, who are a powerful military force among us. Only time will tell how he will do there and for a long time the life of a warrior will suit him.
Carlos Ximanez: "Dad, come sit with us, there's already a bottle of rum for you."
Stephano has just arrived a long journey, many years away from home and family.
Stephano: "Nice to see you all here."
Juan: "Dad, how did your trip go?"
Stephano: "As usual, always one fight and staying alive, but that's already a long story and we'll leave it for another time."
Carlos: "Right, let's just enjoy the rum today."
Lisbeth: "Yes, yarr..., grandpa, you can't escape telling your story, but today we'll just drink, get drunk."
Oliver: "Right...."
I am not a native English Speaker, so i make grammar errors.
But it annoys me when people make silly comments about that... especially brits who for the most part can't speak their own language let alone anyone elses!
The rum bottle was half empty now , its twin already long gone. Laughter rose and fell in waves as old stories circled the table like well worn weapons: tales of narrow escapes, enemy kill counts, foolish bets lost and won in the deep black.
Lisbeth banged her cup down.
“So that’s when you shot out your own wing just to dodge a missile? Pedro, you never told me that!”
Pedro grinned, leaning back.
“Wasn't intentional. But the missile missed, didn't it? And I did make it home.”
Stephano raised an eyebrow.
“Making it home by crashing through a fuel depot barely counts.”
The table roared with laughter.
Carlos, seated next to Lisbeth, placed a firm hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t get any ideas. You’re still in training, hija. No self-destruct maneuvers until you pass my drills.”
Lisbeth groaned dramatically.
“But Pedro—”
“Pedro’s been flying since before you were born,” Carlos cut in, his tone stern but warm. “Let him tell stories. You still need to earn yours.”
Lisbeth slumped, then grinned at her grandfather.
“Grandpa thinks I’ve got potential. Right?”
Stephano leaned forward, eyes steady.
“You’ve got fire. That’s good. But fire needs direction, Lisbeth. Even a star burns out if it rages too fast.”
She quieted, nodding slowly. For her, that was as close to a blessing as anyone got.
At the far side of the table, Bablo finally spoke.
“The galaxy’s changing. Not all our stories will be so simple next time.”
The words cut the mood, if only slightly.
Pedro stiffened.
“If this is about the Black Sails—”
Bablo raised a hand.
“I didn’t say anything. But you know as well as I do… things are shifting. Alliances. Leadership. Some of the old codes don’t hold the same weight.”
Juan swirled his drink, eyes on the amber liquid.
“He’s right. I’ve seen the cracks. Even Deterrence isn’t untouched. The Nomads press harder every cycle. The Houses are skittish. Too many Corsairs chasing credits and forgetting honor.”
Oliver, quiet until now, finally spoke.
“Deterrence fights with discipline. We hold the line.”
Juan looked over at his son.
“You will. But remember who you are. Not just a soldier. A Ximanez. Blood and blade. Never forget where you came from.”
Oliver nodded, eyes sharp. He understood.
Carlos stood slowly, raising his glass.
“Then we drink again. Not just for the stories we’ve told , but for those yet to be written. For the battles ahead. For the unity we must keep . even if the stars fall.”
“¡Por la sangre Ximanez!” Pedro shouted.
“¡Por la Centinela!” shouted Lisbeth.
“¡Por la guerra!” growled Bablo.
They drank.
And in the silence after, Stephano stood. His voice cut through the lingering rum , fog with calm authority.
“This is not just a family. This is a line. A spine through the storm.
The stars may burn. The factions may fracture.
But we , Ximanez , will stand.
We do not break. We shape the fire.”
His sons, his kin, his legacy , all of them looked to him now.
“Tomorrow,” he said, “we return to our fleets. Our banners. Our wars.
But tonight… we drink.”
He raised his glass.
“To the fire that binds us.”
And so they did.
I am not a native English Speaker, so i make grammar errors.
But it annoys me when people make silly comments about that... especially brits who for the most part can't speak their own language let alone anyone elses!
