The second of three star fighters launched by the Oraki immediately after the war with the Word of Creation, the Wasp is a short-flight, non atmospheric fighter designed for heavy firepower and survivability.
The first of the space superiority vehicles to be launched by the newly independant Oraki after the war with the Word of Creation, the Spinner is an inexpensive vehicle, designed for high mobility and simple maintaince. Meanwhile, a single idea drives the entirety of it's armarment; that the only difference between a rocket and a particle beam is the opening.
The Baleful Eyes hang in the space lanes near the Sanctuary of the Oraki, standing ever-watchful vigil in the name of their safety. The first to sense, the first to see, they are a lynchpin of the world's defense.
The failed prototype of the artificial race, the Oraki, it was Kain's misfortune to be found, and resurrected by those who bore a special hatred for his kind. Twisted now in mind and body, this monstrous man machine haunts both its kin and its former captors.
The Eldest of the Oraki, and for long their leader, Lifthrasir-1 has helped his children survive the throes of their birth, and has at last stepped aside, so that his waning years do not bring harm to his people.
One of the first prototypes of the Oraki, the red-headed Lilith remains one of the leaders of their race to this day.
Nenni-0036.2 is a slight, even tiny Oraki, who has taken for herself the mantle of the cat who walks alone.
The Commander of Confederation Special Operations Unit 13, the Star Falcons, Peregrine-0004.7 is an extravagant, yet highly effecient soldier. Time and time again, he has lead the Oraki black-ops teams to success, keening his unnerving war-cry.
Cold Comfort is a long-sword of star-steel, its blade giving off a wan, blueish light. Its grip is wrapped tightly in snow-serpent hide, and its pommel bears a single opalescent gemstone.
This blade is enchanted in such a way, that whoever wields it, begins to fall completely and irrevocably "in love" with the weapon. This love does not manifest itself as the expected reverence and bond formed between any warrior and his weapon, but as a deeper, truer love, one has for a soul-mate of the same species! The longer the wielder carries Cold Comfort the stronger and more disturbing this love becomes, and only the most powerful of magicks can potentially break the sword's insidious spell. The blade's owner will even speak to and coo to the weapon, convinced that the sword understands and returns this epic love.
If the blade's wielder somehow loses the weapon or has it taken away, they will become inconsolable, and will predictably go to "ends of the earth and back" to retrieve it at any cost. Such is the weapon's curse that even separation from it does not damper the feelings the owner has for the sword. Legends tell of several distraught and mind-addled knights who even years after losing the blade, still wander the country-side searching for their lost love. And woe be to the "new lover" if and when they find him or her.