Otheusz

Personnel File
Name:	Otheusz
Rank:	Civilian
Position:	'Sparkles' of the Grey Scars
Species:	Ornaran
Age:	21
Gender:	Male
Orientation:	Homosexual
Birthplace:	Penthas, Ornara
Height:	5ft 6in / 1.68m
Weight:	139lbs / 63kg
Hair:	Dirty Blonde
Eye color:	Blue
Played by:	Dean Charles Chapman
Writer:	TWilkins
Interests
Surviving Eating Fighting Non-Fiction reading Ordnance Weaponry Fighter System Maintanance 'Upgrading' Weapons Sharpening his Daggers Small felines Imagining different ways he could kill his ‘Queen’
Education
(2366-2371: No formal education, skills picked up through day-to-day life) (2371-2375: Working for the Ornaran military, specialising in ordnance and fighter maintenance and construction) (2375-2381: Serving aboard pirate vessel, as part of crew 'The Grey Scars')
Service Record
(2371-2375: Serving as a member of the maintenance and construction force for the Ornaran military) (2375-2375: Active duty as a fighter gunman in the Ornaran military) (2375-2378: Serving aboard pirate vessel 'Grey Daemon') (2378-2381: Promotion to full member of pirate gang 'The Grey Scars')
Decorations
N/A

Character Draft Awaiting Approval

Otheusz was a member of the Ornaran military who deserted during the 2365 campaign against their neighbor, Brekka. After several years of serving under the thumb of the leader of a group of notorious pirates who knew themselves as 'The Grey Scars', Otheusz came face to face with several members of the USS Theurgy, his first encounter with the Federation, who were in-part responsible for the catastrophic events that befell his homeworld. It is unknown how Otheusz' reacted to the knowledge of the USS Theurgy, and whether he played any role in the fight against the parasites that compromised Starfleet Command.

Biography

Childhood

Otheusz was born in 2360, four years before the final trade of felicium was intercepted by the Starship Enterprise-D of the United Federation of Planets, who neglected to help the struggling society with the plague they believed was wracking through their population. At that age, Otheusz was too young to fully understand the impact that so many years of felicium addiction had wrought upon Ornaran society, having only heard a few fleeting stories of how life was like before their society was ruined by the outbreak of the virulent plague, ominously referred to by the oldest of Ornarans as 'The Undoing'.

Otheusz was also too young to have remembered the onslaught of suicides when it was found out that the felicium was then, and forever, out of reach for all those suffering with the plague, set to die an agonising death. He was too young to have recalled the apparent panacea when the entire planet became miraculously cured of all symptoms of plague across a three month period, despite the lack of felicium. He missed the sense of melancholy rapture, celebrating their own lives by dancing on the graves of all those lost to their own despair.

And Otheusz wasn't quite old enough to know what the reaction was, when it was realised that the plague had been gone for years, and that their illness, their losses, were caused by addiction to the very salvation that had been offered to them. But as he grew up, he more than understood the consequences of such rampart betrayal.

With society so irreparably wracked with death and discord, Ornara was nothing close to a charming place to have grown up. Cities once filled with beauty and wonder had become overgrown wastelands, with unclaimed corpses still lingering in rundown homes as all those survivors tried to clamber together a life from the ruins. Their once advanced technology was damaged, with most who once knew how to operate it dead or so addled from years of felicium rotting their brains that they could no longer recall.

Otheusz' Father did his best to provide for his son during his early years, relocating to a shanty community outside of the city, where the collective efforts of dozens of drug-craving adults facilitated the ability for them to be able provide for their less-addled children. In turn, it was up to the children, those who'd suffered the shortest stretches of felicium exposure, to make count their best efforts to rebuild society. Parents passed down what little information they could, about how to repair, maintain and develop technology, but after two centuries of the entire population being wracked with addiction, most did not know how to manage any of their technology. Instead, it was up to scouring for books and printed records of instruction and development, to somehow clamber together any hope of survival.

Otheusz found himself with a knack for the technological aspects of their borderline apocalyptic society, managing to repair machinery, electronics, and various other gadgets and devices that made their lives that little bit easier. As grew got older, his ideas on how he could best help his little community became grander, and he frequented larger cities to scavenge for technology and supplies required to turn his ideas into reality. It started with scavenging, though with the cities rife with gangs and looters embracing the anarchy, it quickly progressed to stealing and stabbing to get what he wanted. And the older he got, the more he wanted.

He told himself it was all for the betterment of the community, that if he didn't fight for his life, he would never have one. Yet, one fateful evening, when he and some of the other youths he had grown up with, returned from scavenging the city for parts, they returned home to find that their community had been the subject of a brutal raid; their technology was ransacked, their supplies looted, and their people nowhere to be seen.

Otheusz never found his Father again after that day, instead relocating into the city and becoming assimilated into one of the gangs he so gravely hated. Life within the gang was hard, as he saw himself as better than those who surround him, those who embraced anarchy and allowed themselves to exist in foetid squalor. Otheusz wanted to learn, to better himself and to make some small contribution to rebuild a world so ravaged by centuries of addiction. Still, despite his ability, intelligence, and ambition, the pecking order was so dominant that he was lucky when he had rancid scraps to eat, and when he didn’t eat, he stole and murdered to survive. But still, he endured, a burning hatred boiling in his heart for all those who had so jovially taken advantage of his suffering.

It was widely known, by then, that the Brekkian populace had been exploiting the Ornarans for two centuries, with the one thing that could unite the disgruntled Ornaran populace being their combined hatred for their neighbours. Otheusz' anger was absolute, put down to the sheer hatred that flooded through his veins at the very thought of any Brekkian, yet, his hatred wasn't simply the source of years of rightful indoctrination to hate his enemy, but also, down to his own knowledge that he had been robbed of any hope of happiness because of their betrayal. If anyone was to blame for his suffering, it was those who lived fat and happy lives on Brekka, those who happily witnessed the death of a society for their own gain. Otheusz knew that Ornara would never recover to what had been told in the second-hand stories that he had been raised on, that it would forever be an angry, betrayed nation, fighting amongst themselves for scraps like dogs.

Yet, thankfully for him, his belief was hardly prophetic.

It took a long while, but eventually, Ornaran society began to restart, little and large fractured communities joining together and forging alliances, pushing the gangs out of the cities with combined will and repaired technologies. It was a shadow of its former self, but functioning once again. A ramshackle democracy flickered into existence, biomatter sequencing technology being restored, and life began to eek towards what it had been prior to the plague, though nobody alive had a hint of what that had been...

Following the biggest push to rebuild, the people needed a new goal to strive for. And it didn't take long for the shambles of democracy that had risen in the place of a unified government, to finally answer their populace's cry for vengeance. The views on whether the USS Enterprise-D and the Federation, the ship that had visited them on the eve of their panacea, were responsible, greatly differed. Some believed that the Federation had cost them everything, and were responsible for the rash of suicides and deaths in agonising withdrawal that flooded the planet. Others, believed that the Federation had saved the Ornarans from the grip of the Brekkians by not interfering in the felicium trade, and not offering them aid repairing their ships.

One thought was unified across all Ornarans however. Revenge on the Brekkians, for ruthlessly extorting them for years, knowing that their 'cure' was a perversion of the word

Thus the new planetary government, declared war on Brekka...

The War

Otheusz found himself working in the ordnance development, and whilst his knowledge of biology, chemistry and numerous other disciplines was sorely lacking, his ability to develop, assemble and deploy devastating weaponry was second to none. He worked tirelessly along with his peers, applying his largely self-taught engineering skills to aid in the development of a myriad of weapons that were deployed across the slow-building Ornaran fleet, content in the knowledge that his creations were designed to kill slews of Brekkians when the final invasion occurred. Otheusz had been raised on a steady diet of hatred and revenge for most of his life, fueled by propaganda to be the perfect soldier. And that he was.

When the war broke out, Otheusz remained stationed on Ornara for a time, repairing returning ships, refitting new weaponry onto fighters and developing new warheads designed to yield the highest levels of destruction upon their enemy. Yet it was his first foray into combat in 2375, at 15 years old, that truly changed the course of his life.

He was part of one of the fighter teams deployed to support Ornaran ground troops during a brutal raid on a known Brekkian supply depot, according to mission ops. He manned the artillery pod of his fighter, with his comrades T'Lis and Cannan manning the flight controls and phaser banks respectively. Otheusz' body moved like it was part of the machine he was controlling as they flew into combat, slavos of cluster torpedos bombarding into Brekkian deployment lines and embankments, devastating their artillery and killing dozens of his foes in every barrage. He knew a grim pleasure at the sight of his weapons wrecking such total havoc on the battlefield, and even as he watched the Brekkian troops fleeing, he couldn't stem the anger that demanded him to fire on the fleeing enemy.

These people had actively and knowingly forfeit his life in exchange for making their own easier, and he hated them indiscriminately for it. Even though he had only been addicted for a few years, his mother's addiction during pregnancy had affected his physiology enough to have limited much of his life. Felicium had rendered him entirely infertile.

Yet after the battle, as he and his comrades waited hungrily for the feast they had been promised as a result for their efforts, imagining banks of food from the supply depot to be more than their limited replicators could produce in a year, he and his friends granted themselves rare smiles at the thought of eating themselves into immobility. However, the feast they were promised, instead made them sick.

Felicium.

The raid they had undertaken, the whole campaign onto Brekka was not for vengeance or retribution, but a campaign to secure territory that could be used to cultivate felicium production under Ornaran supervision.

Enraged that so many lives had been lost, once again, over the felicium that their society had already been ruined by once before, Otheusz and his friends branded themselves deserters and fled the planet's surface in the night, taking their shuttle and the little food they could steal, before fleeing the system.

They couldn't return to the homeworld, and neither did they wish to, instead, taking their fighter out of the system and hoping to reach the Federation, where they hoped they could start anew. Their lack of knowledge regarding space, was to their detriment. They barely progressed any notable distance before their fuel ran out, and drifted for a week until their food ran out, the three of them cramped in the tiny compartment that they lived in, slowly waiting to die as their life support gauge flickered at zero.

Fortune was however, on their side, and powerful solarwinds happened to take them into a trade route that was frequented by a few species who knew to avoid the Ornaran system. Fortune, however, came at a cost, and it was no passing freighter that picked them up, but instead a pirate vessel of raiders and reavers who knew themselves as 'The Grey Scars'.

The Captain of the pirates, a fierce woman who called herself ‘The Grey Queen’, whose crew consisted of mainly Humans, two Bajoran siblings and a Risan, was amused by the Ornaran's natural electrical charges, and elected to take Otheusz and his companions with them as prisoners, to serve their whims and further their objectives over the course of their next planned series of raids against their stake of territory along the popular shipping lane...

The Grey Scars

Over the years, Otheusz, who had been branded with the mocking pseudonym, 'Sparkles', amongst other, colourful, misnomers, was used as live bait for a great many innocent traders, posing as a damaged shuttle, only to turn upon his rescuers with a weapon couldn't be disarmed by a security team. The ‘Queen’ was pleased by his work particularly, both his efforts as bait for passing ships, and for his talents at upgrading the torpedo launchers upon their craft to yield devastating effects on unwary vessels. Otheusz saw that the more he pleased the ‘Queen’, the longer his proverbial leash became, and as such, he applied his knowledge of ordnance weaponry to refit and recalibrate the entire weapons array on their craft, reprogramming targeting scanners and taking great care to learn the quirks of the system better than anyone else.

Three years passed as a spacefaring raider, before the ‘Queen’ decided that Otheusz was someone worth keeping around, his personality far more accustomed to the jobs he was required to perform than the more delicate temperaments of his companions. Though granting him status as a full member of the crew, it was made clear that he was still treated no more favourably than the prized pet that he was before, though now, the pet was allowed off the leash. He accepted the offer, naturally, on the condition that his friends would be dropped off at the next shipyard that they came across.

Otheusz had endured people not so dissimilar to the pirates he spent his time with when he had lived with the gangs of Penthas, whilst his friends had come from an area that had recovered better. They found the violence difficult to stomach, whereas Otheusz had lived it for the majority of his life. Whilst the ‘Queen’ had intended to sell them into the Orion markets, Otheusz' request amused her. The ‘Queen’ knew that Otheusz had been somewhat complient until then, and deciding to sell his friends might make that compliance slip, not to mention let her rivals get the chance of stealing her tactics... And whilst the ‘Queen’, like the rest of the group, saw Otheusz as a pet, property to be deployed as she wished, she was also aware that a kicked dog bit back, and so she begrudgingly complied with the Ornaran's request.

When their crew landed upon one of the many 'ghost cities' upon the world of Aldea, staking their claim to territory amidst the gang wars, a place that reminded Otheusz far too much of his childhood, he bid his friends a dispassionate farewell, feeling bitter that they could go and continue a life together, whilst he remained a slave to the pirates, irrespective of the fact that he had orchestrated such circumstances. Of course, both Ornarans had their throats slit in an unnamed alleyway, after inadvertantly traversing the territory of a rival gang, before they'd even begun their journey to Aldea Prime, but their bodies were rotten and picked clean by vermin before Otheusz ever came to discover them. As far as he knew, they were off living their lives, happy as could be.

Over the coming few years, Otheusz and his crew remained on Aldea and plagued its surrounding shipyards, praying like vultures upon transports, shuttles and freighters that drifted too far away from the Klingon defence forces. He had many run ins with the Klingons, and took to carrying two ferocious looking daggers upon his belt, to use in combat, mainly as a smoke-and-mirror deception to prevent those he fought from realising that he only needed to land a solid grasp on their bare flesh to incapacitate them. The time which was not spent going out on shipyard raids, was often spent engaging in the ever-present gang wars over reasorces and territory in the 'ghost city' that he was now forced to call home.

He found his existence as a petty pirate truly pitiful, not so different to his years spent in the gangs of Penthas, but he played his part, getting a facial tattoo upon his chin, marking him as one of the crew. His ‘Queen’ was grandiose, and liked to show off Otheusz to passing pirates, whom the ‘Queen’ liked to 'host' during their stay on Aldea, and that couldn't be achieved without the trademark grey arrow upon his chin. She also learned to enjoy his company in the private of her boudoir, instructing him to use his bioelectric energy to stimulate her body. She toyed with his mind, with sexual tease and innuendo, but aside from a few lingering touches, mainly designed to mock him, she never forced herself upon him.

However, Otheusz at least began to discover the smallest sense of pride in some of his actions, his creative strategies and methods that saved his and his comrades' lives many times, his innovative and ingenious weapon modifications and his uncanny ability to plunge a knife into a Klingon heart. He also found pride in his ability to read and write the English language, relying less and less on translation technology and instead, learning the language of his ‘Queen’ with a fair amount more competence and refinement than she spoke it. Yet, despite his abilites, and competence in his areas of expertise, he rarely took much credit and announced his achievements with bravado like the rest of the gang, prefering to let his actions speak louder than he did, and making sure those members of the gang who didn't respect him, learned to very quickly. Occasionally at the threat of a sparking hand. Yet, no matter how many threats he made and no matter how much he contributed to their success, he never stopped being the runt of the litter...

He was eternally mocked and ridiculed, his efforts to learn proper English from looted Federation datapads being torn apart as him ‘trying to pretend he was more than a gutter rat’, his time spent slaving over recalibrating missile pods being dismissed as ‘hardly any difference’. Even his threats, over time, found themselves falling on deaf ears as his gang slowly found themselves wearing full uniforms made of non-conductive materials...

Otheusz found little in his life to enjoy, even his down time was just a reminder of his own shortfallings, as he learned about what he could never be a part of. Despite having emotionally lost all consideration of hope, Otheusz equally never gave up his life long fight to better hisself and to push onwards with his life.

It was when he was twenty one, whilst he had been working on a refit of one of their fighters' 'revenant' cluster-torpedo mortar, that he overheard a conversation that began a chain of events that brought him to his first face-to-face encounter with the Federation... An encounter that had the facility to truely change his life.

Personality Profile

Otheusz had a troubled upbringing, and his life was by no means easy. He possessed an especially dreary outlook on the universe and there was never any room in his life for feelings such as optimism, love or joy. Instead, disappointment and hatred were his most constant companions, forever pushing him into a downtrodden existence where never possessed the comprehension of what it meant to feel hope or happiness.

His hard railed life has lead to him feeling especially focussed on his own survival, dismissing other concerns such as comfort and morality, and being ferociously loyal when it best suited his interests. His time with the Grey Scars led him to believe this the fullest, knowing that, despite opportunities to leave, the ‘Queen’ of the Grey Scars saw Otheusz as property and would have never let him get away.

Instead, he attempted to play the ‘Queen‘s favouritism towards him, working through the ranks and intimidating the other members of the crew with his natural bioelectric abilities, cornering them one-on-one where their pack mentality to bully him didn’t quite bite. By relying on that same tactic, over and over for several years, Otheusz demonstrated an animalistic cunning, an ability to work his way through horrific scenarios, tooth and nail, and survive through it all. A weaker person would have failed long ago, but the Ornaran endured every hardship, pushing through to the next day purely in the name of survival.

It was curious, for one so void of hope and optimism, to fight so keenly to see the next day. It was also curious, that one so intent on his own survival above all else, would so easily desert his army and journey into the unknown, with minimal chance of survival. Whether this was down to his sheer unquenchable hatred for felicium, a distasteful lack of awareness for space travel, or some faint, unconscious, hope that he could make tomorrow better for himself, it was impossible to say.

His life had also caused the added effect of twisting him into a feral, for want of a better word, survivor, who would clamber over anyone to make sure he stayed on top. He embodied the qualities one would expect of a 'lost boy', scrappy, animalistic and determined to do anything to keep alive, steal, murder and lie without a second thought, all in the name of survival. However, his apparent animalism contrasted brutally with his cold intellect and adept skill with machinery, his pride, and most of all, the occasional glimmers of extraordinary kindness and dignity that shattered through any feral aspects of his personality like a hammer to glass.

Evidently, regardless of his unquenchable hatred for the universe over his tormented and rotten life, somewhere deep down, Otheusz was a kind, compassionate individual. It would be easy to assume that his bitterness only reflected the world he existed in, but since he had not yet left that world of grime and strife, his capacity for development and change, remained unknown.

The traits that made him such a desirable target for exploitation, included the way he committed himself fully to any task he undertook, whether that was posing as an injured orphan to lure some unsuspecting freighter into a pirate ambush, or whether it was spending every second of his precious spare time learning more about any subject he could get his hands on, fueling his constant need to better himself. His lack of any sense of self-worth or hope for a future, also facilitated exploitation from a trained manipulator such as the Grey ‘Queen’.

Otheusz' constant need to improve, stemmed from a mindset that was burned into him from childhood. Constantly being surrounding by renegades and scum whom Otheusz hated and felt as though he was greater than, but somehow it was they who were somehow better than him at so many things, led to his server nature of self-depreciation. Whether those surrounding him were actually better at anything than him or not, was something that Otheusz never questioned beyond appearance and assumption.

One constant reminder of his hardship was the presence of fun and jouviance. Whether it was combined with narcotics or not, seeing another person deliver a positive emotion beyond a small, cruel, smile, reminded him of seeing an entire battalion of soldiers flood themselves with felicium, and forced him to recall each and every single pain that tiny little drug caused. Happiness reminded him of ruin, and how someone else's joy, such as the happiness and comfort of the Brekkians, could bring such utter brutality to the chance of someone else getting to bring a smile to their face.

Yet, one thing that was indisputable, aside from his hatred, was his pride. Whether it was the result of a newly calibrated 'Ion Storm' cluster-torpedo array, the appreciation of an impeccable display of tactics during a dogfight, or the feeling he got when he landed a dagger through the chest of a particularly dangerous foe, or clasped his hand upon their face and discharged a blast of bioelectric energy into their cranium. Despite the reasoning, his capacity to understand and appreciate his own success, demonstrated that the feral disposition that others might mistake him for, was in fact inaccurate.

In the few fleeting moments that he allowed himself to daydream, Otheusz occasionally pondered on different things he would wish to pursue, were his life not so forcibly shackled. His list never got particularly long, but one part of him always wanted to learn to play a musical instrument, having never heard a live performance of music outside of a seedy underground establishment on Aldea. Even within the confines of a hot and prostitute ridden hovel, he still stared with wanderlust at the way anyone could do something as breathless as move their fingers across strings, and somehow, move him so. He never returned to that establishment, fearing it as the one place that made him absolutely long for more of a life than he had, above anything else.

In all, despite an outer level of intimidation, strength and brutality, Otheusz had a complicated mind that he barely allowed himself to be aware of. His morals were like marble in his head, yet he constantly found reason to conjure excuses as to why he needed to break them. He channeled hatred towards the universe with every waking breath, yet, was capable of the most extraordinary acts of selflessness and compassion. He barely experienced any emotions beyond those of disgust, rage, hatred and pride, yet his eyes shon with the full capacity to experience the entire spectrum, and with the right surroundings, there was no telling how his entire mind could blossom around him...

Physical Profile

Otheusz was never a big individual, instead ranging from skeletal and malnourished at the worst of times, to being lithe and lean at the best. His body didn't display much musculature, he had no distinctive abs or solid pecs, and his limbs were slender and flexible, but still able to demonstrate and deliver a surprising amount of strength. He also possessed some light scarring across his body, a few upon his arms and hands from scampering through salvage back on Ornara, and a particularly vicious slash across the back of his shoulder blades when he once made the mistake of particularly displeasing his ‘Queen’.

His hair rarely progressed beyond a thick, dirty blonde, greasy, tangled mop, whilst his skin was often sickly pale, grimy and dirty, down to simple lack of proper hygiene practice. He had a small, grey line tattooed upon his chin by the Grey Scars, which apparently, according to his ‘Queen’, ‘settled into his chin dimple’ and made him look ‘adorably dangerous’.

The Ornaran features upon his nose had been somewhat reduced during his time with the Grey Scars, by a surgeon who worked at the ‘Queen’s request to make her 'favourite pet' look less conspicuous. Whilst he still possessed the traditional nose features of an Ornaran, they were notably less pronounced than another member of his race. His feelings on that subject were significantly conflicted; whilst he hated being butchered and resculpted at the request of someone he hated, he possessed no great pride in belonging to a race whom waged wars just to get a few more doses of felicium.

His internal physiology was also notably different to other species. Some of the blood vessels on his skin also displayed as strong, dark lines that crackled in lighting patterns underneath his flesh. These vessels were part of his bioelectric systems and were most prominent upon the insides of his hands, where his bioelectricity was most prominently discharged. However, they also appeared faintly upon the back of his cheeks, his neck, torso and arms.

His bioelectric systems also provided him with an intense metabolism, requiring him to consume considerably greater portions of food than the average human of his size in order to stay healthy. This was greater when he was more liberal with his abilities than when he used them less frequently.

Otheusz' eyes were perhaps his most disarming feature, being delightfully pure and innocent blue, and so conflicting with his outward personality. They were often the most essential part of his beguiling routines to best disarm those whom answered his distress calls and fell into an ambush.

Reference Images

Pirate gang Otheusz:

Starfleet regulation Otheusz:

Special Notes (Optional)

Otheusz' Ornaran physiology allowed him to generate a significant bioelectrical shock that manifested through his hands. It was a formidable weapon, but it had it's limitations. He had to place his palm and fingers in direct contact with the victim's skin or a connective material in order to deliver the shock, and against an opponent well versed in martial combat, he was rarely granted that chance. If he refrained from discharging his bioelectric energy for too long, it resulted in unsuspecting burst of static from his hands, which caused minor discomfort. Another application, which he was forced to discover by the ‘Queen’ of the Grey Scars, was that of a sexual application, that could cause pleasurable tingling when applied in gentle bursts.

The felicium addiction that his Mother had suffered whilst carrying him, lead to a realisation when he became a teenager, that felicium had inflicted the unfortunate side effect of infertility on him, and as such, he lost most sexual interest in females from then on, since reformed Ornaran law prevented him from coupling with a fertile woman, due to the necessity to repopulate. His lack of sexual desire for women was further impounded when the ‘Queen’ of the Grey Scars forced him to pleasure herself, and her female guests using his abilities, which lead to more than a few instances where Otheusz came close to being taken against his will. His only true saving grace was that they knew his hands could provide as much pain as they could pleasure... His experience soured his view of any female sexually, and regardless of any previous sexual exploration, found females increasingly less arousing as he grew older and more familiar with their torments. He never physically explored any sexual feelings towards males, for lack of opportunity, but noted that he became exceedingly flushed and physically 'charged' when watching two Orion slave-boys dancing together for his 'Queen's' viewing pleasure. Though it ended abruptly when she grew bored of just watching, the images stayed with him when he had quieter nights in his hammock and granted himself the chance to enjoy the company of his own hands.

During his time with the Grey Scars, he specialised in close quarters fighting using two, slyly curved, daggers. He was also rather adept at using ordnance weaponry, including torpedos, mines, cluster bombs and various other designs he had gotten his hands on over the years. However, his skills with ballistic weaponry did not extend to small arms and energy weapons, which he generally failed to comprehend that he didn't need to take into account projectile drag when aiming, as was required when manually targeting ordnance.