Galactic Alliance: A New Day Dawns

[Coren Starchaser]

Nemo Ven was making his way through the military compound on Sullust. With the bustle going on with the recent meeting that brought in a few different folk from a few different walks of life, he was starting to feel the… dare he say it, excitement, revolving around the formation of this Alliance. It wasn’t since his first few posts with the Galactic Republic that he felt this sort of excitement. The tide was turning, and for a Mon Calamari, that was an appropriate analogy. There were a few things he needed to stamp off on, but first things were first. The new members of the Alliance were showing up, and he knew that Coren Starchaser and Prex Kreelan were bringing in a variety of people to this unit.

He understood the need for the Jedi, but he understood that sometimes their religion interfered. Lucky for him, the Grand Marshal was set up on a different mind set than most Jedi that he worked with. Good. For now, he was going to leave training of Force-users in his military to an advanced team built from the Pyre and several other groups that have pledged their allegiance to the Alliance.

There was a gathering for the military, recruitment drive. He was going to make his appearance, shake hands, and greet the newcomers, and help teach the way the Alliance was looking at things to people who had previously served. Still, too new for him to have an assistant, Supreme Commander coming down to mingle. Welcome to the Alliance.

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

It had been years since Voidstalker had spent time in military bunkers serving for the Republic. Not directly of course, he’d been in a private military outfit for most of his career. These underground sullustan tunnels reminded him of those days. The air was hot and heavy, the architecture angular, the walls unpainted stone.

But there was an atmosphere that transcended that familiarity. There was optimist, there was excitement. The Alliance had started to assemble a genuine force. The Republic was a pale shadow of what it had been before the Rapture. The Protectorate had fallen. It was only a matter of time before another set of worlds decided enough was enough, pooled their resources and prepared to make a stand for freedom.

It wasn’t going to be an easy ride, he knew. Jacen had seen the devastation wrought by the forces of the Sith first hand. They plundered Republic worlds with impunity. Even with the fragmented fleets, armies and rogue Jedi assembled by the Alliance, they had but a fraction of the resources. Jacen’s hand rested lightly on the long hilt of his saber. He wore the brown robes of the Jedi for the first time in months. Yet this New Jedi Order had a uniform that included armour plating by default. Durasteel marked his chest and shoulders, with a small etching denoting his rank of Knight. Jacen didn’t know what Omai Rhen, this Grand Marshall of the New Jedi Order was capable of, but he had made sense. Voidstalker trusted him. He wasn’t sure he believed in this Alliance yet, but he hoped he would. For now, that would have to be enough.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Coren figured it would be good for him to show up. He was going to be entering and helping with some of the courses in the military academy, specifically the ones on vehicle usage, piloting and infiltration units. Sure, he might not be an infiltrator himself, or… was he? One would never know. But the one thing he did know was the worked well in mixed units, teams of Forcers, of Jedi and the NFUs. The galaxy was at a tipping point, and he knew that he couldn’t be splitting the Jedi down the middle with his crusade against Force religions. He wasn’t here to represent the military, and as any search would find him a part of the Frontiers Corps, and not the Underground, he was A-okay walking around in plain sight.

A modified uniform, with the right cut and color, but former Imperial markings, the fighter captain was starting to follow a new path. Not quite ‘what is good for the name of Empire’ but ‘what is good for the galaxy,’ and that was something he was trying to impress into the Dawn Treader with moderate success. He wasn’t sure he’d call them over to this gathering, but who knew?

Much more the military man than the Force monk, Coren made his rounds to the different leaders, touching base, seeing who he had on his potential team. Maybe he’d pull in some of the Underground, like [member="Rekha Kaarde"], but he’d allow them to choose for themselves if they were going to join the Alliance, or… the Republic. That would cause some fracturing, so probably best to not even mention it to the Underground. His main focus was, as always, ending the dark side reign.

 

[Damon Riggs]

Rumors. Rumors were a wonderous thing sometimes. Rumors got Riggs off his butt, and got him to shave. It got him to go into his closet and pull out the one thing he'd never thought he'd wear ever again, his naval uniform. Captain Damon Riggs, stepped out of the quarters he shared with his partner, co-pilot, and lover, [member="Alexandra Russo"]. She was piloting, after all, she was the best there was. The "space tunnel" to Sullust had been something she needed to deal with. Riggs could pilot, but not like her.

Why were they heading to Sullust? Rumors. Riggs and Russo had hit a rough patch financially with smuggling work running dry. Russo had made the hard decision of selling Gus Ketch's old garage and flat. They had been living there when not working. It was bittersweet for Riggs as it had been the place they finally gave into their desire for each other. Yes, Russo had kept her walls up and the first union had been nothing more than the two coping with the reality they were both still alive, but Riggs had known there were feelings deep down, and they were eventually expressed.

Work was still hard, and even though Russo still owned the crop dusting business it wasn't enough. Rumors reached them. There was new alliance forming, and they needed military, navy, Jedi, anyone that wanted to fight evil. Riggs still had a chip on his shoulder with what happened over Coruscant. He'd lost his MC-40 there. He'd lost Jenkins there. His best friend saved his life that day, and Riggs still felt guilty.

He'd stopped by the galley to get Russo some caf. She liked it with four creams, and while he preferred his black, he'd started drinking is the same as her. It happened when you were with someone a lot, someone you shared your life with. Would they ever get married? They'd never discussed it, but they were life partners. Life partners that were now heading to enlist in a military once more. It had been several years since Riggs had been in his uniform, but it still fit. Who knew, maybe he'd have his own ship again. RIggs was getting excited about the prospect. After all, he was Navy man through and through.

"Caf, Commander Russo?"

Yes, he was trying to get her to look at him in his old uniform. She'd always liked him in it anyway.

"Have you sent the transponder codes yet? Hopefully there is something to these rumors."

Rumors. Rumors were a wonderous thing sometimes.

 

[Nyx]

Having numerous contacts in the criminal underworld paid off sometimes. It meant that one heard about things, and could capitalize on those things.
Which is precisely how Nyx found herself on Sullust, about to join a military.

Unlike most of her work, she actually had her jacket pressed and cleaned, giving it a shine it hadn't had in a long while. She figured she might as well give a good first impression on her new commanders.
Those that knew her might ask 'why join some alliance? Why not keep freelancing?'
The simple answer?
The Sith.
This 'Alliance' was against the Sith, and that got it some good points in her eyes. Her encounter with her sister had opened her eyes to the evil the Sith brought with them, and she was determined to do her part to stop them.
Even if that meant putting on a uniform underneath her jacket.​

 

[Roth Tillian]

Roth stepped out of his freighter, nodding to M1-C3 to close up the ship and keep it safe. He wasn't much good as a freelance pilot without his ship, so it would be unfortunate if someone stole it. That was unlikely here on Sullust, however, so he strode down the stone corridors, freshly shined boots clacking on the floor. Oh, did this feel good. Freelance cargo-hauling, of varying shades of legality, was all well and good, but it couldn't hold a glow-rod to starfighters. That was what he was here for, after all. A new government, one he could respect this time, was forming right next door to his home planet, and it seemed like it could potential in ensuring Susefvi would not fall to the One SIth, which was why he had returned home to the Ring Defenders.

Now perhaps he could take a more active role in protecting not only his home, but other's homes as well, That was what he wanted most to do now. The Republic had been a start, but it was too far away from home for him to be comfortable with it. Hopefully this would help stay in the same area. He adjusted his coat and headed further down the corridors, looking for wherever this event was supposed to be taking place. He wasn't entirely sure on that part.

 

[Mya Jesel]

Mya and her bodyguard detachment stepped out down out of the freighter, studying these corridors. Mya had never been to Sullust before, even though it wasn't too far from her home. Business had simply never taken her there before. Now, she was here with the blessings of the Susefvi legislature and president to open negotiations with this new Galactic Alliance and ensure their intentions. The last thing they wanted was a new warmongering state right next door to threaten their security.

Her goal for this was to meet with this new Chief of State or some other officials and at least begin discussions about potential treaties and alliances. Whether or not they would join would depend on the legislature as whole. She did not have authority for that or to make any promises. Before she would even offer to try to convince her fellow politicians, she needed to be absolutely certain. A slightly familiar figure in a military cut outfit strode past her. He looked like one of the pilots she'd met in the Susefvi Defense Force. Something Tillian, she thought. His family owned a shipping business. He was an odd one though, prone to leaving for long periods of time on "assignments" she knew nothing about. But then, she was not particularly involved in militayr affairs.

 

[Relit Vandal]

The darkness, that residual and stifling thing. No matter how far it lingered from the pressing attention of the Republic, or how closely it drifted, it demanded constant attention. Vigilance born from consternation, it was a sickly and purposeful feeling. One that thrived in the gut and moved the body, far beyond the dilapidated shadow of the former Grand Republic. Republic, sure, but grand no longer.

Some might wonder what had led the Jedi Master, far removed from the Jedi Order, to place foot upon Sullust. To remove dusty coat from the cargo hold of the rickety x-wing and greet the world with a smile and tilt of the head. He cared little for such query, as it served no purpose and questioned the will of the force. Not that he followed it blindly. But when the stream bends, the floating detritus follows.

​His boots heralded his entry as he immersed himself into the notions of this alliance. For the times he had participated in the traditional views of the Jedi Order, he had found the experience lackluster and underwhelming. Vastille had taught him differently and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't kick out the idea that ideals and integrity shouldn't be sacrificed for integration and assimilation. Appeasement was the death of character. And at the end of the day, the Sith needed to be forced to tow the very same line they forced upon others. It was merely a matter of when.

He wouldn't run into the crowd full force, not yet. His was a silent gesture. He would gauge the interactions, the direction, and discern if this was the place for him. More than anything, he longed for a vehicle that met his own intentions.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

There were a decent number of people here. That was a good thing to see. The Supreme Commander made his way through the groups, greeting a few dignitaries, high ranking officials in the army, starfighter corps, a few from SpecOps. He saw the one known as Coren Starchaser, he was an enigmatic sort, perhaps a potential Sub-Commander, but that was digressing. Ships were arriving by the day, apparently the news of the summit followed the galaxy pretty quickly.

The real treat for the greenhorns would be that the Supreme Commander of the Galactic Alliance Defense Force was going to be at this recruitment event. People were skittering around, meeting with a variety of representatives from as many military teams as you could imagine, others were taking their armed services vocational aptitude batteries for enlistment, and still more were working to have their former education and military records transferred into the GADF.

Apparently the galaxy had a lot of people who were looking to secure freedom, and take a more active role in achieving it. Senates were good, sometimes, but they only clogged up the works, at least in Nemo Ven’s opinion.

“How are we looking, Lieutenant?” Ven asked as he approached the main desk where others were approaching to sign up, and pledge themselves into changing the galaxy, and working for a better and brighter tomorrow.

"We're doing well, so far Commander. We've got entire craft from worlds coming in to pledge. Its a nice sight." The Sullustan responded with a nod as the Mon Calamari Commander looked out among the people.

[member="Relit Vandal"]
[member="Mya Jesel"]
[member="Roth Tillian"]
[member="Nyx"]
[member="Damon Riggs"]
[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]
[member="Rook"]

 

[Placeholder 0133]

Shy was not something Rook would have ever used to describe himself. He was not the type to be struck by any form of anxiety around people, yet today it was crippling. When he parted his lips to speak, it felt as if his tongue was made of sand given the way he stuttered. When a man cast his gaze upon him, Rook did everything in his power to avert it. If one even dared to strike up a conversation they were met with a stumbling mess. The reason for his distressing state? The clone had no idea.

He attributed it to the decision to look into this alliance, but it was deeper than that. He just couldn't pin it down. All around, men and women of all races were swearing oaths, enlisting, pledging allegiance to what would be the Galactic Alliance. It made him uneasy, and it should not have. Perhaps it was pride that brought about this feeling. If so, then Rook imagined himself swallowing it, and stepped into the line leading to the recruiter's desk. This was an idealistic movement; stop the Sith, bring about a greater galaxy. Things some of his brothers would have been enraptured with. It was not such a case for Rook.

The Republic had enslaved him. He and a few dozen other young boys were built to serve the Prime Minister. A woman who was still in office, and despite Rook's best efforts, very much alive. His inhibitor chip had malfunctioned during a skirmish, and free will had come to him. With it, he'd set off on a quest to eliminate those that had wronged his brothers. Needless to say he hit a wall. One he could not get past on his own.

Why was he joining this alliance? For a being born and raised to live by one single purpose: to fight, kill, and die honorably for pupeteers in the shadows, it was simple.

​

Rook needed a purpose.

 

[Marrius Connors]

Sullust, one of his least favorite hot dirty holes in the galaxy. He knew why he was here but it did not change his opinion of the world itself. The crowd now assembled in the tunnels made the atmosphere even more unpleasant. people of various races and affiliations had seemed to all hear the call of this new Alliance. Politicians mingled with smugglers, soldiers with jedi, Marrius had even seen a man he knew in fact to be a pirate. This was a motley collection of freedom fighters. Only the Sith could make these people gather for a singular cause. It was why he was there, the only reason. He was tired of their unrelenting campaign of conquest. The core of the galaxy had been devoured by evil and the One Sith's ravishing hunger would not be sated until all of the Corsica galaxy was despoiled by their filth.

Connors spoke to a few of the denizens who seemed to be sticking to the outside of the group. They were like him and not prepared to jump into the fray of fragile conversations between would be enemies. He imagined many of these people had, on more than one occasion, been on the other side of a conflict from the other. That could make for a disaster if tensions grew high and the wrong words mistakenly uttered in anger. Or as history has shown us could forge a force more powerful than the greatest weapons in the galaxy. A true alliance poised against the greatest evil ever to plague the galaxy. A force with a glimmer of a hope of doing the impossible, and defeat the Sith.

Marrius watched the line form for registration and decided to take the leap. He knew why he was here and the rest did not matter. He would fight to end the Sith or die.

 

[GhostOfProtocol]

Sullest, a planet Quinn had never really bothered trying to visit. The alliance was something Quinn had never really bothered with, until he met that mad chick on Mustafar. He knew that he couldn't stay around in the Silver Jedi, or Silver Sanctum as it was known. He was a bomb, a small time bomb just waiting to blow. He was a peace keeper, a pacifist basically, but he knew he had his limits.

His hand moved down to his lightsaber as he strolled lightly into the military complex. He had felt the force pulling him here, almost the same way it had pulled him to Mustafar when he almost died. He wasn't sure what was making it happen, perhaps a being somewhere setting him up for death, he would never be sure.

He watched as what he could only assume to be the line of registration form, chuckling lightly as he watched. He was here, like all of these, to fight the Sith, but he planned to do it differently. He wasn't going to fight until he came against a Sith who he needed to fight against. Capture, that was his goal, capture and negotiate.

Of all the times he chose not to fight.

 

[Alexandra Porte]

So they were following the rumors and it had led them to Sullust. [member="Damon Riggs"] and Alexandra Russo were planning to join the military again. Hopefully this time around it wouldn't cost as much, but this was war… and the cost of freedom was costly no matter how one added it up; credit wise and/or with bone and flesh.

The former Republic Navy Captain and Flight Commander had both thought the other had been killed at the Battle of Coruscant. But low and behold each had made it out alive, just barely though… A year later the two had found each other, well Riggs had followed whispers of a stubborn brunette starfighter pilot recuperating on Taanab. They reunited though each were fighting severe cases of survivor's guilt and used the bottle to forget until Alex's dying mentor set them straight. Since Gus Ketch's passing, Riggs and Russo began allowing themselves to live again. As smugglers though, they sucked. If these rumors proved true, the fleeter and flygirl would get another chance doing what they'd once been trained to do and loved as both would have been career military if not for what happened.

Booted footsteps on the metal decking alerted the feisty pilot that her partner was entering the cockpit of their modified YT-1300 Light Freighter, which had a center cockpit.

"Caf, Commander Russo?"

Alex chuckled to herself. He was trying to get her to look at him in his old uniform as it had been pressed and hung in plain sight in their shared quarters upon the Inquisitor's Revenge. She'd always liked him in it. Liked him out of it too! Alleycat herself was wearing a pilot's day uniform; tunic, trousers, and a well-worn flight jacket.

Brandy brown eyes peered back over her shoulder and gave the Coruscanti a quick head to toe. Gods he looked good. There was just something about a man in a uniform that made a woman go hmmm.

"Have you sent the transponder codes yet? Hopefully there is something to these rumors."

"Yes. Thank you, Captain," Russo smiled and reached out for the mug. She took a sip of the steaming milky brown liquid, then set it down in the cup holder off to the side of the captain's chair. "I have and just got clearance to land. Seems things are looking up. I'm nervous, but more excited than anything to be active duty again. I like having purpose in this world."

​After docking the ship, the two proceeded out of the starport and through the tunnels to where the meet n greet was taking place.

 

[Chaf’anta’natrano]

The trip to Sullust was a nerve-wracking one for the Chiss Aristocra of House Chaf on Sarvchi. At best, one well-placed One Sith spy could easily undo everything that Fantana was trying to accomplish by meeting with the Galactic Alliance. At worst, it could be the catalyst for her execution. Still, Fantana would do everything to release the One Sith's hold over her icy homeworld, and while it seemed to be a very small shot in a very dark galaxy, if anyone could help, it was to be Nemo Ven and his Galactic Alliance.

Fantana had high hopes for the Galactic Alliance. The Chiss Ascendancy had done little to help its own people the second time that Wyyrlock-Class Destroyers shimmered out of hyperspace over Csilla. Of course, as expected, the Galactic Republic was impotent, although Fantana also faulted the Chiss' own isolationist tendencies for the galaxy turning a blind eye. To add insult to injury, after the One Sith retook Csilla, the planet was hit with a wave of terror attacks, special courtesy of the Rebel Alliance. Given some of the rumors that Fantana had heard about the Rebel Alliance's ties to the Republic, the Aristocra personally considered the Republic to be an enemy of the Chiss people.

The Aristocra's glittering red eyes panned around at the different faces and uniforms present. She was a politician, dressed in the yellow and grey diplomatic robes of her ruling house. However out of place she seemed, before taking the role of Aristocra, Fantana had commanded ground troops in the Chiss Expeditionary Defense Force as they fought in the Fringe after the Great Disappearance. She knew first-hand that it could be the difference between life or death, if armies and fleets did not have the very best equipment. If the Galactic Alliance needed Chiss starships, fighters, weapons, and any other Chiss technology, Fantana could supply them. If this Alliance proved to be the great hope for which the galaxy yearned, Fantana vowed that even she herself would lead her own armies alongside these brave warriors.

[member="Alexandra Russo"] [member="Quinn Michaels"] [member="Marrius Connors"] [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] [member="Relit Vandal"] [member="Roth Tillian"] [member="Nyx"] [member="Damon Riggs"] [member="Rook"] [member="Coren Starchaser"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PVLRsQuTebA

Galactic Alliance Military Outpost
Sullust, Bremar Sector

In his cream suit and white shirt, smart, with an air of the "casual tourist" stood in the beaming sunshine look, Fixx Kearney stepped off the old CS4 Transport, complete with vintage propeller and twin turbo engines, and looked over the landing pad, blue eyes scanning the area behind dark sunglasses.

Holding just one bag of possessions from his time with the Republic, the Czerka 411 under his jacket, the temperature was comfortable and their was a sense of unity in the air. However he had seen this all before, and right now it looked like another cell of the Republic branching out to do things a little differently.

Fixx had a specific set of skills that he had acquired over a very long career. Skills that made him a nightmare for people like the Sith, the mercenaries, the warlords. The same old lunatics with the same old galaxy-conquering dream. He'd gained few friends, had his heart broken and made lots of enemies. He had nobody but himself, and he was damn good at his job. Unfortunately, the Republic was a place he didn't feel he could make a difference; too many leaks, too many traitor and too many politicians pulling strings. Maybe this new Alliance was something better?

He just had to find the right allies, those he could trust, to set up a very long, rewarding and dangerous career...

[member=Chaf’anta’natrano] | [member="Alexandra Russo"] | [member="Quinn Michaels"] | [member="Marrius Connors"] | [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] | [member="Relit Vandal"] | [member="Roth Tillian"] | [member=Nyx] | [member="Damon Riggs"] | [member=Rook] | [member="Coren Starchaser"]

 

[Placeholder 0133]

Was that a Chiss?

Of all the things Rook had expected to see here, it was not the Ascendancy. He wasn't sure whether to be reassured or worried by their presence. Not that his opinion on them even mattered.

He'd made the rather unintelligent position of showing up in his kit. Sure, it hid his smell - the man hadn't bathed himself in ages - and kept him from suffering a day of headaches and vertigo, but the red stood out. The fact that he was well over six feet tall didn't help much. With luck, people would write him off as some sort of mercenary trying to look tough. In a way it was true. It kept people from trying to talk to him at the least. No one would have to deal with the blubbering mess that he was.

Except the recruiter.

"Name?" The tired-looking Sullustan asked.

"Rook." He blustered. There was a long pause as the Sullustan stared up at him expectantly. "Last name son..."

People were starting to stare. The big bad bounty hunter couldn't remember his own name? How amusing! "...Conclave. Rook Conclave." He bowed his head in apology. The Sullustan breathed an exasperated sigh, and after asking a serious of questions - with Rook lying to answer almost every single one - she moved him to a console.

The seat was far too small. Grumbling a string of curses under his breath, the former soldier hung on the literal edge of his seat. "Karking...ridiculous chairs." With a sigh, Rook began to take his ASVAB.

He hadn't even studied!

Chaf’anta’natrano | Alexandra Russo | Quinn Michaels | Marrius Connors | Jacen Voidstalker | Relit Vandal | Roth Tillian | Nyx | Damon Riggs | Coren Starchaser | [member="Fixx Kearney"]

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

Jacen meandered through the crowd. His hood was pulled back so he could get a good view of the crowd. This was more of a military gathering, but in the Galactic Alliance the Defence Force and New Jedi Order were intertwined. All worked together to provide a united front against the Sith.

His brown robes, and the GA logo on his durasteel pauldron marked him out as a member of the New Jedi Order. Grand Marshall Omai Rhen wasn’t present, but Voidstalker was here in case any potential members wished to approach him. For now, he watched the crowd carefully. Their excitement, but even more their optimism radiated through the Force.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Really, this was feeling more like home than other situations that he had found himself in. Sure, since awakening, Coren didn’t do much in the way of organized military, a short stint in the Fringe Federation, and a longer stint in the Underground, but that was guerilla war and strike tactics. With Galactic Alliance? They needed a leader, and he could probably fulfill that role. Making his way over to the pilot table, he wanted to see the list of new comers that would be possibly covering his wing in combat.

Besides that? He had an idea to start working with a Warbird Wing style unit. Trained pilots, trained commandos, working in specialized environments, small fire teams and wearing the N7 brand and representing advanced training and asymmetry in combat with the Force and non-Force users. He had a table set up and was leaning against the wall, after he made his trip over to the pilots. He wanted to gauge potentials for this kind of unit, but he also wanted to observe others in their wanderings.

Simple, right?

That was the goal.

It seemed that this was all going well. The Supreme Commander made his way through the group, around to greet others. The whole premise of this thread was simple. Get people talking. He was meeting with a few pilots currently. Pilots were one of his favorite groups, his former group. He liked their ingenuity and never-say-die attitude. What he wanted to see was who was interested in working on non-traditional teams, like Starchaser's SpecOps team, he knew he had fighter pilots, both enhanced and not.

On top of that, there was an agent kicking around. Using them would be very useful, indeed. He'd be open to talking to anyone, answering questions, and directing them to the right units and commanders. Lackluster in circumstance, the Galactic Alliance military was coming as a volunteer team.

And that was great.

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"] | [member="Rook"] |[member="Fixx Kearney"] | [member="Chaf’anta’natrano"] |[member="Quinn Michaels"] | [member="Alexandra Russo"] |[member="Marrius Connors"] | [member="Damon Riggs"] |[member="Relit Vandal"] |[member="Roth Tillian"] | [member="Nyx"] |

 

[Rekha Kaarde]

Rekha was always late if she ever got anywhere on time there would be a landslide followed by a volcanic eruption where the earth would crack and implode on itself.

She stood where [member="Coren Starchaser"] could see that she was there. The only skill she had to offer was her piloting skills and well a general dose of smart alec.

She wasn’t sure what to do next except to listen and then decide what was the next step, did she have to pledge the first pint of blood, or was it her right arm. They’d play farkle getting either right now.


Jacen Voidstalker | Rook |Fixx Kearney | Chaf’anta’natrano |Quinn Michaels | Alexandra Russo |Marrius Connors | Damon Riggs |Relit Vandal |Roth Tillian | Nyx |

 

[Roth Tillian]

Roth paused as he entered the recruitment area and grinned. Weren't these a scruffy bunch of nerfherders? Smugglers, mercenaries, volunteers, probable former criminals. These were his kinds of people, and every single one of them came to volunteer for this new fighting force. He could feel the energy surging through the room and it wasn't through the Force either. It was the excitement. The thrill of something new, of a coming together, and of potential. No stifling council here or some bogged-down, senate-driven bureaucracy like he had with the Galactic Republic. This was efficient. This was effective. It was a starfighter of a government rather than a hulking battlecruiser.

Just the way he liked it. Now to sign on, with permission from the Saarai-Kar, which he had received, in fact. That was more than beneficial. It turned out she was curious about this new organization starting almost on their doorstep as he was. It had promise, to be certain, and the promises of planetary sovereignty certainly helped. Susefvi was tired of being ruled by core-oriented empires, no matter how beneficial. It was always Core-first and nobody bothered to think of the outer rim worlds. This promised cooperative defense and political independence. Hopefully they would find a happy medium.

He paused at the pilot's table, shrugged, and put in his information. Name, home planet, age, prior military experience. Now that was an interesting one. Two stints with the Susefvi Defense Force, fighter ace, pilot with the Rebel Alliance and commander of Rogue Squadron, transferred to Republic's Blazing Angels squadron, freelance, and then back to Susefvi Defense Force. He had the experience, that was for sure. He had the skills. Oh, and also a Force sensitive with some Jedi training, but not a philosophically or morally practicing Jedi by any means.

No, he would not take the entrance examination again. He was a fighter pilot with both sector defense and guerrilla experience. That was where he would be. He was not going to be an infantryman or a mechanic or Force-forbid a logistical officer. He might as well try to take on the Sith Emperor single-handed with those vocations. It'd do everyone the same amount of good. The bemused person at the desk pointed him towards a certain [member="Coren Starchaser"] and instructed him to talk about those opportunities.

Roth raised an eyebrow at the woman, but he ambled off, giving her a quick wink as he left. She was very pretty. Maybe he'd talk to her again at some other time. There was potential there as well. Hopefully good potential. There was a slight bounce in his step at this point and cruised to a halt in front of Coren.

"Howdy," He said without a pause, "I was sent over here and told to talk to you about your project." He held out a hand, shifting the jacket slightly to reveal both his blaster pistol and his lightsaber, "Name's Roth Tillian."