Birthplace: Cioral (Chiss Ascendancy)
Species: Chiss
Age: 32
Hair color: Silver
Facial hair: Clean shaven
Eye color: Rose
Height: 6’2"
Build: Broad chested, but fit and athletic.
Physically distinguishing characteristics: A brand on his wrist
Personality: Diligent, loyal, patient.
Hinar’isti’nalay was born to House Nalay. His house is vassal to House Csapla, and served as functionaries, teachers, farmers and stewards. Ristin was first born of his three siblings and expected to do well. His father was a well educated butler and his mother a magistrate over seeing disputes in the farming communities. Ristin was to follow in his father’s stead and become an officer’s attendant and bodyguard. After coming of age, he attended a Chissian Academy on Cioral and exceeded. He had always been clever as a boy, but even his skill and natural aptitude could not prepare him for the strict and cutthroat nature of the Chissian education system. Many young men and women were broken by the instructors, condemned to tend fields and raise animals, but Ristin adapted and rose to every challenge. Swordplay, clothing fabrication, high mathematics, xenolinguistics, music and dance were just some of the skills he had to master. After all, an officer could face all manner of challenge, and they could not look foolish or ill-prepared, so a proper servant had to be ready for anything.
Ristin graduated third in class, excelling in field engineering and industrial agriculture. He had grew up traveling farms with his mother, and it gave him an edge. After being given a year of holiday as a graduation reward, Ristin returned and joined his surviving classmates to receive their assignments.
Ristin was flown to a diplomat’s ship and brought to a conference center. He was expecting more hard-nosed instructors to browbeat him and hand out marching orders like a grunt soldier, but no, instead he found himself entering an elegant party. Csaplan nobles were dressed in finery, wearing either crisp uniforms with proudly displayed medals or silken suits and gowns befitting their station. Admirals, High Magistrates and technology giants all present in one place. Ristin felt a little light headed at the power contained in the hall.
Ristin and the other graduates were there to cater the party, but in truth, it was an auction. As they served drinks, moved unobtrusively and knew when and more importantly, when not to speak. Round and round with the nobles, they were sifted, weighed, measured and evaluated. Ristin himself was taken in by Duke Onox’ort’csapla. The duke was fat and somewhat crude, though feared for his political acumen.
In the morning, Ristin was taken to the Duke’s estate, a small orbiting station Cioral. It was there he met other domestic staff and was introduced to his true charge, the Duke’s son, Onox’emi’csapla. Xemic was a very bright, eager boy. Full of Chissian pride and promise. it would fall to Risin to be the boy’s attendant and guardian. Barely seven years of age, yet the courts had laid out the boy’s golden future like points on a chart. He would rise to great heights as a systems administrator or even the defense forces as an officer. The boy’s father had carefully arranged contacts and favors to pave the very heavens for his son, and it fell to Ristin to make him ready for it all.
Despite the immense pressure and expectations heaped onto him, Xemic rose to every challenge and kept his youthful spirit. Under the demanding gaze of the Duke and Duchess, Ristin did his part. Beyond being an attentive steward, tailor and chef however, Ristin found himself beginning to care for the boy. It was clear that Ximec possessed the will and intelligence of his father, but he also maintained something that was rarer in Chissian society, a sense of humor. Ristin almost became the boy’s confidant, letting him being a child when the rest of the Ascendancy demanded an impeccable Chissian prodigy. Even time with other children was strictly regimented, similar noble children pooled together to foster future alliances then actually allowing them to just play.
Five years passed, Ristin was able to watch with surrogate pride as Xemic continued to rise. The Duke’s scheming was spider like, and managed to arrange Xemic a place in the grandest military academy in the entire Ascendancy. No one was quite sure how he managed to do it, but an opening became available and it was quickly secured for his son. Ristin himself shared in the pride, even it meant that his charge would be shortly leaving his care. It was all they had worked for, yet it still seemed to come too fast.
As an acceptance into the Academy gift, the Duke arranged for his son to visit a prestigious Chissian entertainment satellite. A grand opera was set to perform, and Ristin, Ximec and the Duchess were given arrangements to stay for two weeks and enjoy the diversions. The opera itself proved to be a glorious display of holographic imagery and masterful performance. After the wonderful show, Risin, Ximec, his mother and the House guards retired to their apartments. While preparing for bed, Ristin received a comm unit for the Duchess to go to the local galley and fetch some wine for a night cap. He left the room to do so and went to the kitchens, as he was there, his comm suddenly shorted out. Ice cold fear running down his back, Ristin raced back to the room, the wine bottles crashing to the floor.
Surging through the halls and up stairs, Ristin turned the corner to find the two guards outside Ximec’s room dead, their necks a dark smile with blood leaking down the front of their uniforms. Ristin’s world shattered as he rushed through the door to find a figure stooped over Ximec, the boy’s form still on the ground. The figure was wearing an opera performer’s uniform and carried a needle in her hand. She turned and smiled serenely at Ristin, while Ximec’s eyes were looking up at nothing, his face pale and still. Something inside Ristin broke, he was not sure if he screamed, but somehow a guard’s rifle was in his hand as he opened fire at the figure. The assassin moved like a dancer, up and down, leaping out of the way like a spider. A blade appeared in her other hand and she came at Ristin in a rush. She slashed at his throat, but he managed to get his arm up in time, the cut deep, but Ristin could not feel it through his world of adrenaline and rage.
The assassin moved to finish him off with another skill blow, but the Duchess’s guards arrived and pushed her back with hails of blaster fire. Even with her skill, she could not face six to one odds and escaped down another hallway. The battle fell away for Ristin as he moved to Ximec’s still body. He carefully picked the boy into his arms, checking the small, barely noticeable puncture wound at the neck. He tried to rush him to the local medical station, but it was too late. The Duchess found Ristin holding Ximec’s body, and her own rage had no assassin to focus on, and so it went to Ristin. Grabbing a metal tray in the med station, she savagely struck at Ristin, her noble decorum falling away as she flailed the tray like a club. Only one very daring guard managed to dissuade her from beating Ristin to a pulp.
It was discovered through autopsy that Ximec had been dosed with Themfar, a Malkite poison. Death was nearly instantaneous. The assassin was chased into open space, but just before her ship was captured, it self-destructed, leaving the trail as cold as Chissian winter.
The Duchess’s grief and fury would prove a faint shadow compared to the Duke’s. After returning from his trip and learning of his son’s fate, he tore through the entire opera staff for any and everyone who might be connected to his son’s death. For Ristin himself, after he had recovered from the knife slash, was brought before the Duke and a council of Csaplan nobles, including his parents. With fury and disgust, Ristin was charged as an accomplice to Xemic’s murder, believed to be in league with the Malkite Assassins. Some tried to argue in Ristin’s defense, but the Duke had would hear none of it. Instead of execution however, Ristin was declared not of the Ascendancy. Two guards came forward and held him, while a third came forward and cut his regalia from him, then took his sleeve and exposed his arm. A length of iron shaped into the Cheunh word for ‘Traitor’ was heated with a torch, and there before his House and family, the brand was burned into Ristin’s arm. He managed not to scream, maintaining whatever remained of his dignity. And without another word, his arm still smoking, Ristin was taken to a military transport and taken to the nearest xeno port. The guards did not even get off the transport, just opened the docking doors and flung Ristin onto the station, then promptly departed.
Heartbroken and torn asunder, Ristin managed to survive. With some scrap and dusty power cells, he managed to eke out enough to feed himself, eventually doing odd jobs until he found himself in the company of Taryn Colt and Aedross the Born Again Warrior. But that is another story…