Tracer

From WNOHGB Wiki
Jump to: navigation, search
Mordechai W. Tracer
Tracer.jpg
Rank: Captain
RDF-O-6.png
Title: Trade Division Commander
Race: Terran
Gender: Male
Children: Prince Victor Trasera
Affiliation: Galaxy Alliance (Rikon Defense Force)

Captain Mordechai W. Tracer is the Trade Division Commander of the Rikon Defense Force, equivalent to the Vice President of the company, alongside fellow Captain Jack Jakthor and the owner, Commodore Joaquin Vaquero. He commands the CCV Hyperion (CIC-56170).

Currently, Mordechai has a complicated relationship with Princess Ambrosia Trasera of the Kingdom of Eden, and may be the father of Prince Victor Trasera.

Biography

It was 2364. In one of the many ships heading off to Cirrius Prime was my father, Andrew Tracer and his wife, my mother, Therese. They settled a large piece of land on the outskirts of a major colony city, a land much like the farm my father says he had on Earth, in Kansas. He said it wasn't the same, but it was good land, good soil, and it would do our family a lot of good.

My mother didn't quite like the idea of them moving, being newlyweds and all. She wanted to stay at Earth, enjoy the scenery, all that jazz. Thank goodness they didn't.. we all know why.

And they found out why in 2366, when word came back to them that Earth had been completely assimilated by the Borg. Father said my mother was in complete tears. Had to be treated for depression. Mother longed for home and now she couldn't have it..

Well, my father created a worthwhile farming business on Cirrius Prime, cultivating both native Cirrius flora and Terran. In the light of one of their good crops, my parents got a little happy and POOF! There I was. Well, at least they say it was the good crops. I'm thinking it was in trying to get over the bad news about Earth. This all was in 2367.

I was less than a year old when the large battle happened over Cirrius Prime. My mother was pregnant with my younger sister, Karalynn, and all three of us, Father, Mother and I, were hidden in one of the large shelters provided in case a possible Borg attack happened. Many colonists said we didn't need it, that we'd all die anyways, but yeah, my parents knew better. Well, we all know how the Galaxy Alliance kicked Collective ass there, so I wont get into that. But yeah, we all survived, even if my baby sister was born four months pre-mature because of it.

So, well, our crops continued to thrive and we rolled in our credits and latinum. Father taught me the ways of farming as I grew. How completely and utterly dull, especially with such pre-historic tools. Father said they were because he was trying to stick to tradition, like somehow, with Earth destroyed and all, that things were somehow going to be the same as they always have been.

Well, I was thrown in schooling like the rest of the little rug rats who were part of the colony. Learned our ABC's and 123's and the history and governmental structure of our Galaxy Alliance (like there was much to learn anyways). Father tried to get me into football and Parrises Squares, but no.. couldn't do it, didn't want to do it.. Liked schooling though. Surprising to me, even.

For High School, I started starbase hopping. Though my father wanted me to stay home, I just couldn't. Didn't seem right. He didn't like my attitude, Mother didn't like my choice of friends, my sister was taking me on as a role-model (that mimic-monster). So, I just said to hell with it and started attending some of the high school academies available from the Starbases. I did pretty good, despite my moving around from place to place. Got good with weapons. Made some friends who were NOT Terran. Hell, even buzzed my long black hair short, leaving a simple strand, braided in the back. Father would kill me if he knew...

So I graduated school with good grades, pretty much. Missed good points on one exam because I was thinking too much on some of the recent Breen attacks. Now, I'm out to make a name for myself, any how and any way I can. This is a whole different universe than the one my parents grew up in. I'll just show them how different.

Written by Mordechai Tracer, 2384

Personal tools