Cristóbal Rios

Appearance
Rios is human, 6' tall with an athletic build, wavy brown hair and brown eyes. He has a neatly (at times) trimmed beard and mustache, slightly graying in places. On his left arm is a tattoo of a mermaid, and he has plenty of scars, including a shrapnel scar on his right shoulder.

He speaks with a slight Chilean accent, and is fond of wearing soft shirts in dark colors - black or gray - and fitted cargo pants if he can find them. Otherwise, he'll settle for leather armor, usually jackets and fancy hats in a musketeer style. Don't let the gruff exterior fool you - he likes fancy hats. Otherwise, he can usually be seen brooding, reading philosophy, or smoking a cigar, if he can get his hands on one.

Talents
Cris is, or was, a talented starship pilot and captain before arriving in Wall. He's pretty good with a phaser, and if you've ever seen him play, you'd know that he's something of a football enthusiast. He can brawl with the best of them if he has to and he's swung a sword once or twice. Enough to get by. He can speak English, Spanish, and French, and he's also good with horses.

Interests
Playing football (soccer), reading philosophy, smoking cigars, drinking, listening to the blues, collecting mermaid art

History
Cris, also often referred to as “Rios”, was born in Chile on Earth, but doesn’t like to talk about his past, especially the events prior to ten years ago when he was discharged from Starfleet for post-traumatic dysphoria.

Before that, he was a rising star - first officer of Federation Curiosity-class heavy cruiser ibn Majid. Captain Alonzo Vandermeer was like a father to him, up until the point when a pair of mysterious First Contact diplomats boarded the ship and brought chaos in their wake. Captain Vandermeer committed suicide over what occurred and Rios has never stopped blaming himself for the argument that he believes prompted it. Whatever the cause, the entire incident was wiped from Starfleet’s records. The ibn Majid was decommissioned and Rios found himself out of a job.

He’s never gotten over it.

Eventually, he found work as the captain of a Kaplan F17 speed freighter, La Sirena, working jobs within the gray area of the law. It was a solitary life, excepting the company of several holograms that were programmed in his image to thwart passengers from interacting with him too closely.

He became used to being alone and relying on himself during the long days and nights in the vastness of space. He took to reading philosophy, especially the thoughts and musings on death and the human relationship with it. He kept fit by playing football (sometimes known as soccer) on the deck of the ship.

No matter how dark his thoughts became however, he was a Starfleet man at heart, and kept his ship, such as it was, perfectly in order.

Recently, he was hired to illegally transport a rather notable individual off Earth. He had no idea what he’d gotten himself into. Things went to hell rather quickly, including bringing back a lot of old emotions and memories, but in the wake of what could have been mass genocide, he found himself the captain of a full crew, including to an ex-Admiral of Starfleet.

If that wasn’t enough, he wasn’t a day into his new life when he found himself on a deserted moon, looking for an artifact Picard swore was located along a low ridge when a storm blew up. He lost his instrumentation and stumbled blind through the howling winds and rain until he found a cave... but the moment he stepped through the arch, he was transported to an unknown city on an unknown planet in an unknown world. Drenched to the bone.

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