"Shotgun diplomacy is overrated. I prefer a more hands-on approach..."'
|Karma||Renegade of the Wastes|
|Face Claim||Carmit Bachar|
Barb was born in Shady Sands, a military brat from day one. She followed in mom and dad's footsteps, joining the NCR at 18 and working her way through the ranks for the next seventeen years, excelling in hand-to-hand combat. She's more deadly with her fists than with a firearm, though she tends to focus more on maneuvers that leave her foes unconscious versus dead on the ground; a considerably smart tactic when she's going up against men twice her size. Towards the end of that seventeen year span, Barbara was up for a spot in the coveted Rangers, the NCR's elite task force.
Unfortunately for Barb, her initiation mission happened to take place in Bitter Springs.
Told that the area was a prominent base of operations for the Great Khans, several squads of NCR troops were sent to effectively wipe out the threat. But their information was faulty; Bitter Springs was a safe haven for families of the Khans, and the "threat" the NCR was up against consisted of mostly women, children, and the elderly. Communication lines were skewed and word from base was spotty at best. The higher ups had no idea the town was housing innocents and, ultimately, the assault was carried through. The Khans fled for Coyote Trail Ridge, the only clear route out of Bitter Springs, but instead of an escape they were met with a hail of gun fire from the 1st Recon Battalion, who were told to "fire until you're out of ammunition."
Barb wasn't a member of 1st Recon, but when the Ranger supervising her squad told her to keep her mouth and carry out orders when she protested to what was happening, something snapped inside and Barbara's iron clad faith in the goodness of the NCR was fiercely shaken. This senseless slaughter was on par with the Legion's atrocities, and Barb would have no part of it. When the troops reassembled to return to base, Barbara was nowhere to be seen, having tossed her dog tags onto the streets of Bitter Springs before slipping off silently into the Mojave.
What followed was three years of depression, soul searching, and a growing hatred for the organization she once so admired. Things were rough for a while; Barb ended up taking residence in Freeside, working as a gun-for-hire or low-end bounty hunter, adamantly refusing to run home to Shady Sands or return to the NCR with her tail between her legs. Alcohol was a source of comfort during that time, and while she never became solely dependent on it, it hardly helped her keep a clear head and worked only to fuel her depressive thoughts. Seeing the drunken, stumbling NCR troops that would occasionally pour out onto the streets of Freeside in order to find a cheaper alternative to the prostitutes of the Strip only made her more indignant and angry.
One night Barbara came across a small group of NCR boys giving one of the girls who usually worked outside the Wrangler a hard time, and while she normally didn't like to get her nose dirty with such things, she felt that those three-against-one odds were hardly fair, especially when the troops began to get more than just handsy. Barb confronted the group, and the troopers made the mistake of trying to wrangle her into their little game, and when they couldn't seem to grasp the concept that no meant no, Barb relied on her unarmed training to drop all three in rapid succession. Two of the men were out for the count, but the third had managed to crack his head open on a dumpster in the alley as he hit the ground. She was waiting for a feeling of remorse to hit her, but the feeling never came. No, it felt good, felt justified, like she was doing right by those countless women and children who were lost at Bitter Springs.
It wasn't long after that Barb left Freeside and hit the road, deciding her own personal brand of street justice made her feel alive for the first time in three years and as such she should seek the feeling out again. She spends her days looking to slowly right the wrongs of the past, and while it sounds like a noble enough goal, Barbara's personal agenda against the NCR tends to lead her astray more often than not...
Continuing Adventures Edit
Barbara was blessed with a quick wit and an even quicker mouth, though the two tend to get her into trouble more often than not. Bluntness is a weapon she wields well, oftentimes telling it like it is whether the person she's speaking to wants to hear it or not. Having grown up a child of military parents and eventually enrolling herself, Barb learned quickly enough that her brash nature needs to be reeled in every now and again, and for the most part she skillfully juggles that scathing tongue and a respectful attitude, finding a happy medium when the need arises.
Driven and direct, Barb is not one to back down easily. When her mind is set on something there's a dman good chance she's going to see it through to the end, not matter how overwhelming or impossible the end goal may seem. This go-getter attitude was shaken at the Bitter Springs massacre, but as of late it's starting to make one hell of a comeback. For the last three years she's been digging her old self out of a haze of depression and self-doubt, for which she couldn't be happier; being meek or self-deprecating is hardly her forte, and now that the haze is starting to clear she's more than ready to whip her mind back into shape. A biased sense of judgement and a sizable need to fix her past mistakes keeps her going today, and Barbara has taken on a bit of a vigilante attitude as a result.
But in the end, justice must be served, and if her own brand of vengeance doesn't sit well with others, well... that's their problem, isn't it?