Susanoo Tsukuyomi
Atrisia's Western Wolf
- Intent: To create a no-nonsense, highly skilled mechanic who serves as one of the few Susanoo trusts with her fighter
- Image Credit: Made with AI
- Role: Chief Armorer and Lead Mechanic for the Phoenix Squadron hangar bay.
- Permissions: N/A
- Links: N/A
- Age: 48
- Force Sensitivity: Non-Force User
- Species: Human
- Appearance: Kaela is a woman built for her work stocky, strong, with broad shoulders and capable hands that are permanently etched with grease and minor scars. Her dark hair is cropped short for practicality, shot through with grey. Her face is often smudged with oil, and her eyes are a sharp, assessing brown that misses no detail. She exclusively wears a durable, stained set of coveralls and heavy mag-boots.
- Name: Kaela
- Loyalties: The Hidden Path, her mechanics, the pilots who respect her birds.
- Wealth: Lower-Middle Class. Lives on her salary. Her value is in her skill.
- Notable Possessions: A full set of proprietary Corellian Engineering Corporation tools; a customized hydrospanner she's had for 20 years; a data pad filled with performance logs on every fighter in the hangar.
- Skills: Master Mechanic & Starship Engineer, Expert Diagnostician, Efficient Logistics Management, Tough but Fair Leadership.
- Languages: Basic, Binary, Bocce.
- Personality: Blunt, pragmatic, and brutally honest. Kaela has no time for drama, politics, or ego. She speaks in short, direct sentences and expects others to do the same. She is fiercely protective of the ships under her care and has little patience for pilots who treat them carelessly. While not warm, she is deeply loyal to those who earn her respect through competence and a strong work ethic.
- Weapon of Choice: A heavy wrench or a plasma torch.
- Combat Function: Non-combatant. In an attack, her sole focus is on damage control, emergency repairs, and getting fighters launched or grounded safely. She is a liability in a firefight but an invaluable asset to survival.
- Unmatched Expertise: There is no mechanical or systems problem she cannot diagnose and fix with stunning efficiency.
- Unflappable: Panic is not in her vocabulary. In a crisis, she is a rock of calm, focused determination.
- Poor Social Skills: Her bluntness often comes across as rudeness, and she has zero aptitude for diplomacy or handling sensitive personalities.
- The Hangar is Her World: She struggles to see the bigger strategic picture, often prioritizing the safety of a ship over a mission's objective.
Kaela's story is one of a life built and lost, not once, but twice. She was born into a middle-class family on the industrial world of Corellia, but her spirit chafed against its regimented corporate life. In her twenties, she deserted a promising engineering career to follow a passionate, idealistic sculptor to the remote and beautiful agrarian world of Cantras Gola. There, she found her true calling not in shaping metal, but in shaping a life building a homestead, raising two children, and using her engineering skills to maintain the community's vital moisture vaporators and power generators. She was happy, grounded, and far from the galaxy's conflicts.
The War didn't touch Cantras Gola. But the warlords and pirate fleets it unleashed into the Outer Rim did. Her world was too small, too undefended. A marauder fleet, scavenging for supplies and slaves, glassed the main settlement. Kaela was out repairing a generator array in the high mesas; she returned to find only smoking ruins. Her partner, her children, her future all gone.
The grief was a black hole. She became a ghost, drifting from one rimworld to another, using her skills to keep ships flying for anyone who paid. She was on a refueling station near the Tion Cluster when the news feeds broadcast the Fall of Coruscant. The sheer scale of the catastrophe the heart of the galaxy being torn out made her personal loss feel both insignificant and amplified. The galaxy itself was now as broken as she was.
She took a job on a tramp freighter that eventually did a run for the Hidden Path, ferrying refugees from a besieged world. On that ship, she saw not soldiers or heroes, but mechanics, cooks, and doctors performing miracles with nothing. They weren't fighting to conquer; they were fighting to mend. It was a language she finally understood. She offered her services and was sent to Odessen. In the hangar bay, surrounded by machines that needed her care, she found a third purpose: not to build a life, or to mourn one, but to preserve the tools others used to protect what fragile light remained.