Cerys Gwendolyn Myles

Rook

Assumed Name: Rook Corvax

Birth Name: Cerys Gwendolyn Myles

Birthplace : Cardiff, Wales, UK approx 2137

Age: 26 standard Earth years  (2 years in cryo)

Bio (from the Janus Extranet)

Ms. Corvax, 26, was born on Benning and is a recent graduate of the Extrasolar Management program, Gates School of Business, Terra University of Eden Prime. Recently acquired by Janus, she serves as executive assistant to the CEO.

Bio (pre First-Contact War)

The woman that would eventually become Rook was born Cerys Gwendolyn Myles. Cerys (or the easier-to-pronounce "Gwen") joined the Alliance as part of a scholarship program to attend Oxford's renowned Stellar Cartography program. Growing up in a poorer part of Cardiff, she would often look to the stars as a child and know that up there, somewhere, men and women were mapping the universe with a granularity that had otherwise been thought of impossible only a generation or so ago. When the chance to take the Alliance's enrollment tests came, she saw it as an exciting chance to escape her blue-collar destiny and find a new one in the heavens.

The young Cerys was a tenacous student, managing to complete her coursework in three years - and if she wasn't the brightest student in the program, she was certainly one of the most dedicated. Basic training and academy life were difficult, but she brought the same rigid determination to these places as she did University and to escaping her impoverished background. In time, she accepted her commission aboard the SSV Trafalgar as a junior navigational officer.

The goal-oriented Ensign Myles found herself in a strange position, however - unlike at university or in the academy, where here singlemindedness had paid in spades, she was now required to form relationships with the deck crew she served on and the handful of men and women she supervised and she found this task more daunting than any she had faced before. It was only through a chance encounter with Alliance marine 2nd Lieutenant Autumn Nelson that the awkward Ms. Myles managed to grow socially, and from out of that friendship came the skills she would need to earn the trust of her crew and the advancement of her military career.

Cerys' time aboard the Trafalgar was short, but formative. Offered a position a aboard the SSV Roanoke - a frigate that was part of a small deep-space expeditionary group bound for an unexplored relay. It was a risky assignment - ships had been lost when their pilots hit inactive relays the wrong way - but it also promised advancement should she prove herself. With a tearful goodbye, Cerys and Autumn promised to see each other back on Earth in a year's time.

But they would never see each other again. The Roanoke made the jump successfully, only to alert the attention of a Turian patrol on the far side of the relay. The Turians did not recognize the ship's markings or make, but treated them as any other craft in a restricted area - ordering them to power down, then destroying the ships when they failed to respond in kind. The crews of the three ships were not expecting combat, and were inexperienced - the fight was brief and all three ships in the group were lost. A report was filed with Turian high command that they had encountered unknown vessels, and it was determined that the ships were probably part of a small pirate fleet. The report wasn't given any more consideration than that. On Earth, the loss of the group was chalked down to the sometimes dangerous nature of exploring new systems, and the crews were honored in proper fashion.

Many of the crew died, but some lucky few like Cerys made it to lifeboats that would keep them in stasis until such time as they were retrieved by another Alliance craft. However, smaller predators follow in the wake of large ones, and scavengers often follow behind Turian military craft. The opportunistic crew marveled at the creatures they found and sealed them away deep in their hold, planning on selling the strange-looking creatures at a high price.

Cerys slept the majority of the First Contact War away in a warehouse in some far-flung pirate space station, and may have died a quiet death with her life support system had not an opportunistic research firm been looking to develop a way to ... augment ... human memories and personalities for a very enthusiastic client. Eventually, their product reached testing phase and human subjects were needed. Word reached them that live human subjects could be had for the right price: no paper trails, no questions. 

She awoke with no memory, no awareness beyond the world in front of her and the searing pain in her head. The procedure had, by all accounts, been a failure and her memory had been torn to pieces in the process. What was left was a series of disjointed memories, a badly fractured personality, and a pair of dogtags that dangled around her neck. All around her, the similarly mangled bodies of some of her fellow crewmates, whose names and faces she could not recall, sleeping away on life support.

The rest is a blur, or she chooses not to remember it as birth is painful, and her rebirth was no different. She knows that some time later, she found herself piloting a stolen shuttle through the expanse of space in some cluster that, like all of them, was unknown to her. Piloting as far as she could, the craft ran out of fuel and she curled up in the back, waiting for death.

After almost three days adrift in the dying craft, she was picked up by a freighter crew returning, ironically enough, from the very station she had escaped. They did not know who the strange girl was, but they had their suspicions. The captain was compassionate, though, and they returned to Alliance space without notifying anyone of her existence. Fearful that they would return her to wherever it was she had come from, the person that had been Cerys remained silent, and was eventually taken to the nearest station with a sizable hospital. The girl vanished into the station before the ambulance was even dispatched.

That was almost six months ago, and in that time, the girl who was once a bright young Alliance officer has had to learn things that she would have considered unthinkable only a year ago. She has fallen far, and she has fallen fast, but strangely enough, she has adapted to her rapidly declining situation with aplomb. The girl, calling herself Rook despite the name on the tags that hang around her neck, gained a reputation for being one of the most ruthless women in the station, and when the opportunity came for her to join a larger, more well-organized crew in the lucrative black market of the Citadel, she jumped at the chance.

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