Stories of Knyghte in Midnight Squadron
5’11” tall, Caucasian, brown but starting to show gray (head shaved, but he has a van dyke), no scars/injuries, no implants, no notable birthmarks, Stocky(220lbs) – has the look of a guy who was in shape a year or two back but is sporting a bit of love handle, Green eyes, no tats.
When it comes to clothing, Deckard considers attire to be a toolbox; a different type of apparel for every situation. When doing his everyday thing, however, he wears casual pants or jeans, a leather tennis-style shoe which has a casual look to it but will allow him to run hard when needed, loose fitting button down shirt (usually) untucked. In addition to that its weather/climate based. Sunny? A leather range hat, may forego the loose shirt for a T-shirt. Rainy? The hat and a long, tan, canvas trench coat. Cold? A mid-thigh length, waterproof, navy-blue, peacoat, Leather combat boots, thin leather gloves, and his hat.
He likes a good cigar on occasion, when leaving a port he likes to have varying types of music to listen to, preferably as loud as his sound system can manage. He is a neat freak; highly organized and hates to see his space messed with in any way that causes it to be less than perfectly arranged.
Deckard has been a loner for a long, long time. He hasn’t been close to anyone since before his days in UEE. Though he did build some solid friendships while there, he has lost touch with many of those he served with. He would like to find a companion to run long explorations and trade with him when he goes into deep space, but he has no one left to call on, not even the love of a woman. Sure he would say he has never met the right woman, but then again he hasn’t spent any time looking.
He has chosen a solitary life since leaving the service. He doesn’t come across as dismissive or haughty, neither arrogant nor aggressive. He is simply a man who keeps to himself. If someone got to know him they would find him a fair companion with a dry wit and a good insight, however, getting to know him would mean tearing down his walls. And those walls are strong. His closest friends all died in service. He has spent years building up his emotional walls, keeping those walls of up means keeping pain at bay.
Deckard flies the Freelancer Bucephalus, Bucee he calls her. He inherited her from his once good friend and the last of his old UEE buddies, Lancelot. Lancelot named her Bucephalus after Alexander the Great’s war horse; it was a fitting name for her. He had taken her into more than one fray, and she was certainly not designed to be a fighter. But somehow she always brought him out alive and had the scars to prove she had seen battle. Sadly he wasn’t flying her the day he bought it while flying escort for a fuel tanker. Knyghte was last of his old contingent; an aging war horse himself.
Deckard now lives paycheck to paycheck. His strong tactical thought and reasoning have kept him in business and alive. Those paychecks haven’t been rolling in as fast as he has wanted or needed them to however. Down but not out, he presses on through the difficult times; the warrior in him won’t allow anything less.
Deckard was a Commander in the UEEN. He had advanced some in the military, but never made Captain. The stress of seeing the people under his command dying eventually got to him and he resigned, declining all vet benefits relating to mental health care and counseling.
He suffers from mild PTSD and exhibits symptoms such as depression (likely due to erratic sleep patterns), paranoia (hypervigilance), sleep disorder (unable to sleep and ruminating over lost comrades), detachment from others, and a lack of interest in social activities.
Once involved in any social aspect he is fine, able to relate and interact with others just fine. His issue is getting himself moving to go into a social setting.
Deckard is a tactical savant, able to see things before they occur in a battle scenario. Think Sherlock Holmes with Robert Downy Jr. He is far from infallible however, and this is where he started experiencing issues with the deaths the pilots under his command. He could see varying encounters moving in certain ways, but there were always situations where he missed a vital detail that he believes would have kept someone alive. He is unable to reconcile these “misjudgments” with the reality that there is no way he can always be 100% correct.
All Deckard really wants is to explore. He saw plenty of time in dogfights, lost some good friends, and now wants to move about in peace. However, if push came to shove…
It’s been years, but a familiar voice has drawn him back to the fold of Midnight Squadron.