Post by Cavalry King on Sept 26, 2011 7:48:08 GMT -5
Faction: Republic
Department: Army Expeditionary Force
Rank: Captain
Name: Drake Halos (Hey-loss)
Race: Human
Age: 28
Height: 6'2
Weight: 225
Birth place: Coruscant
Appearance:
Drake is a big sum-b*&%$. Constant PT (Physical Training) has filled his frame full of tense musculature. He has a dominating presence that commands authority and demands respect. He has a stony face, hard and unforgiving. He has piercing blue eyes that seem to see into your very soul. He bears tattoos of the marks of the AEF on his chest and arms. He just looks like a tough guy, one you wouldn't ever want to be on the receiving end of his attacks.
Personality:
Drake is a do-or-die, go-hard-or-go-home kind of soldier. He wont back down from a challenge or difficult odds. He eats danger for breakfast. The military as been his whole life and he lives to exemplify the ideals of an officer and a soldier. He is a general hard (butt) in nearly anything and everything, but he is known to crack an occasionally joke and put his men at ease. He loves his men, his force, and is republic and his men know and respect that. He is an excellent soldier and follows orders, but not always as they are given, only the intent of the order. If he does go against an order or step out of line, he will accept any and all consequences.
He can be jovial and fun when not in combat or on duty, drinking and partying some what, but always mindful of his duty. He is extremely protective, especially of children, he will nearly always risk his life for a child in danger no matter the consequences.
He is actually somewhat idealistic, holding truth, honor, and freedom is high regard.
Skills: Ground Combat and tactics, Martial Arts, Languages
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 7
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 5
Leadership: 8
Unarmed: 8
Melee Weapons: 5
Ranged Weapons: 7
Alignment: +3
Bio:
Birthplace: Coruscant
Born to a pauper on the streets of Courscant's grimiest neigborhood, Drake's future was bleak. He was literally born on the street as his mother gave birth prematurely and a droid had to be rushed to the scene to help the birth. His mother had no prospects, his father had no job. The family scrapped by on what they had. His father was a former AEF soldier but drank and gambled away whatever he had made while in the service. His mother worked local cantinas as a serving girl. The couple always wanted a kid but not when they had Drake. The wouldn't give him up though.
He scrapped by as a child. He rarely ate enough and was usually malnourished and skinny. He did poorly in whatever schooling he received. He simply didn't care about school, plus he was always getting into fights. He was extremely scrappy and easily insulted, angered, or annoyed. Despite being so small and skinny his tenacity allowed him to give as much as he took. His teachers usually gave up on him and his parents didn't have very high expectations for him. Most of the other kids didn't want to play with him either because of his violent tendencies. Despite his seeming stupidity, his constant access to the plethora of different language spoken on Coruscant, resulted in him picking up languages. He picked up on words and phrases from other cultures quickly and almost never forgot them.
By age 9 he had joined his neighborhood kid's street gang and started to get into trouble. They stole and caused mayhem wherever but what really got them in trouble was their fight club. They fought each other and others constantly for food, money, toys, etc. They would end up with broken bones, black eyes, ruptured organs and other injuries. Surprisingly Drake would win most of the time since he was willing to take more of a beating than the next guy, he never quit and had no fear of any challenger. Kids generally stopped fighting him unless the stake were pretty high. He was small at that time but super aggressive.
Over the years his parents had two more sons and they followed their brother and he grew extremely protective of them. None of the kids messed with Drake's brothers because they knew he would find them and hurt them.
When Drake hit puberty, he sprouted up like a weed. By 14 he was the biggest human kid on his block. He was failing out of school, just getting pushed through the system. He didn't care. His life was the streets. No matter what he did or where he was, his only constant was brawling. Because he was so big he fought his way to the top of his gang. His gang followed and trusted him more than anyone, almost cultishly. He kept getting into trouble, the only thing protecting him from hard time was his young age.
One day when Drake was 17, he did something extremely stupid. He and his gang robbed a convenience store and he personally beat down four cops and a few security droids in the process and in fleeing the scene. When the neighborhood erupted in chaos as the police began making sweeps to find evidence to prosecute the criminals Drake's father packed him up and shipped him out to the Army Expeditionary Force before the cops could determine it was him.
Drake was not the best recruit - at first. He was difficult to break, difficult to deal with, and difficult to teach. He refused to listen and all the physical punishment they tried to give him, running, hiking, lifting, he took with ease. The only thing that he showed promise in was leadership. The other recruits liked him and grew to look up to him and finally when Drake kept intentionally failing on of the drill instructors sat down with him and explained to him that he was causing the others to fall behind, that the instructors believed in him and were counting on him to help his fellow recruits get through training. He instantly remembered his old gang days, having people counting on him and looking up to him. He snapped out of his resistance and took to his training like a fish to water. He allowed the Force to transform him.
He graduated as the honor graduate from his unit and set records in nearly every event. He especially stood out in the martial arts training. He practiced it, which was a version of the echani martial arts, religiously. He was special promoted to sergeant straight out of basic and recommended for further combat training. He went to a special school for ground combat to further his training in martial arts, leadership, and marksmanship. The school was long and grueling - a year of intense 20 hour on average training days.
By time he had finished he was 19, a sergeant, and deadly.
Drake had to constantly prove himself being so young in sergeant stripes. He always had to be first, best, and perfect at anything and everything otherwise he got chewed out by those who believed he didn't deserve his stripes. After several months any respected Drake at his position. His commanders trusted him and his men looked up to him.
His new found status would be vital in the next phase of his career because his unit got deployed. Apparently some well equipped mercenaries had taken over a mining station. There were far too many for a small strike force but the mission wasn't pressing enough for Jedi so the AEF got its chance to flex its muscles. It wasn't their usually MO but they were itching for a fight. Drake's unit was the first to deploy.
As they troop transports pulled nearer, the base erupted with AA fire. Heavy blaster fire and shrapnel rocked the transports as they approached. The crew worked furiously to maintain the shields and the attack pattern. They had explicit orders not to fire upon the facility, so as not to damage it. They just had to take the fire head on. Drake was nervous, but he hid it well. When the transport bay doors finally opened, Drake jumped out in front, and goaded his men to follow him. Heavy fighting ensued, the AA fire had killed several of his commanding officers, and as the fighting progressed, the chain of command grew hazy. Only a few platoons of AEF were dropped here and officers grew in short supply. Drake slowly assembled more units under his guidance and carried on his unit's mission. He coordinated nearly his entire battalion throughout the fighting, all the way to mission accomplished, saving the Republic millions in lost revenue.
For his service he received the Republic Operation Service Medal, 1st Class - the highest non-wartime, non-campaign operation medal - and a free ticket to the AEF Officer's College. He graduated in three years, on an expedited track, first in his class. He finally cared in school and applied himself, and once he did, realized his potential.
He was given his officer's sword and sent straight back to the front.
First to Fight
Do or Die,
Death to the Enemy
These became part of Drake's psyche. He became truly a weapon of the Republic. Wherever they pointed him, he moved, attacked, and conquered. Over the course of the next few years he saw minor actions across the Republic. Small skirmishes, standoffs rebellions, etc. Over the years for his valorous service he received his Captaincy.
When the Sith attacked the AEF was always on the front and nearly always the first into combat. The struggles of the Republic have taken an especially heavy toll on the AEF because of their ethos and style. Their casualties are always higher than any other unit's simply because they refuse to retreat and are extremely stubborn in combat. Even when totally surrounded and cut off the AEF still fights to the death. Drake has done his part in the battles and a chest full of medals, ribbons, and awards proves that but that is not his goal. His goal is victory.
Password: Bylgia
RP Sample:
Silence gripped the men as the transport grew closer to the target. The hum of the engine and the fire from the ground filled the air. Each man was contemplating his own job, fate, and reason for serving. Once again they had been called upon by the Republic and once again they were the first to fight. Apparently some Sith raiders had been hitting some farmers in the system. It would be their job to clear out the raiders. Capt. Halos stood patiently. No matter how many times he went into combat he always got a slight twinge in his gut. A man would be foolish not to feel something before battle, he would die from acting stupidly.
Th doors opened with a whoosh, battle was once again upon them. Drake jumped out immediately and beckoned his men to follow. He made a headlong run for cover behind some rocks. Blasts whizzed past him. He looked over and assessed the situation. Enemies were on the ridge above them pouring down fire. Drake breathed deeply and started barking orders to his Executive officer. "Tell Alpha platoon I want some cover fire on that ridge, they all stay in these rocks and pour down fire. Any automatic weapons from any platoon are to attach to first platoon, spread themselves out, and lay down cover fire as well. Beta and Gamma are to advance with me under the cover fire. Tell the snipers to take out any high priority targets - officers or automatic weapons operators." He said in a clear, firm tone. His orders were relayed throughout the company.
In moments all knew their orders and Drake's company let out a barrage of concentrated fire on the ridge. He surged forward and his men followed. He only thought of the mission and killing the enemy. Blasts were flying all around him but they didn't phase him. He and his men advanced steadily to the ridge, under the cover of the first platoon. His men acted like clock work, they threw grenades onto the ridge as they approached, blasting away the Sith on the ridge.
Drake was the first over the rise and saw the Sith that had gathered at the base of the rise. Next he felt a searing pain in his shoulder and was launched backwards. Confusion, pain, disorientation - this was all he knew for what seemed like forever. He felt a strong grip and that he was being dragged backwards. He snapped out of his delirium and shrugged his men off. He stood up and tied to move his arm, no good, too painful. He simply dropped his rifle, took out his side arm and went back to the fore of the fighting. He had a mission to do, not even death would stop him, not today.
Department: Army Expeditionary Force
Rank: Captain
Name: Drake Halos (Hey-loss)
Race: Human
Age: 28
Height: 6'2
Weight: 225
Birth place: Coruscant
Appearance:
Drake is a big sum-b*&%$. Constant PT (Physical Training) has filled his frame full of tense musculature. He has a dominating presence that commands authority and demands respect. He has a stony face, hard and unforgiving. He has piercing blue eyes that seem to see into your very soul. He bears tattoos of the marks of the AEF on his chest and arms. He just looks like a tough guy, one you wouldn't ever want to be on the receiving end of his attacks.
Personality:
Drake is a do-or-die, go-hard-or-go-home kind of soldier. He wont back down from a challenge or difficult odds. He eats danger for breakfast. The military as been his whole life and he lives to exemplify the ideals of an officer and a soldier. He is a general hard (butt) in nearly anything and everything, but he is known to crack an occasionally joke and put his men at ease. He loves his men, his force, and is republic and his men know and respect that. He is an excellent soldier and follows orders, but not always as they are given, only the intent of the order. If he does go against an order or step out of line, he will accept any and all consequences.
He can be jovial and fun when not in combat or on duty, drinking and partying some what, but always mindful of his duty. He is extremely protective, especially of children, he will nearly always risk his life for a child in danger no matter the consequences.
He is actually somewhat idealistic, holding truth, honor, and freedom is high regard.
Skills: Ground Combat and tactics, Martial Arts, Languages
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 7
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 5
Leadership: 8
Unarmed: 8
Melee Weapons: 5
Ranged Weapons: 7
Alignment: +3
Bio:
The Birth of a Soldier
Birthplace: Coruscant
Born to a pauper on the streets of Courscant's grimiest neigborhood, Drake's future was bleak. He was literally born on the street as his mother gave birth prematurely and a droid had to be rushed to the scene to help the birth. His mother had no prospects, his father had no job. The family scrapped by on what they had. His father was a former AEF soldier but drank and gambled away whatever he had made while in the service. His mother worked local cantinas as a serving girl. The couple always wanted a kid but not when they had Drake. The wouldn't give him up though.
He scrapped by as a child. He rarely ate enough and was usually malnourished and skinny. He did poorly in whatever schooling he received. He simply didn't care about school, plus he was always getting into fights. He was extremely scrappy and easily insulted, angered, or annoyed. Despite being so small and skinny his tenacity allowed him to give as much as he took. His teachers usually gave up on him and his parents didn't have very high expectations for him. Most of the other kids didn't want to play with him either because of his violent tendencies. Despite his seeming stupidity, his constant access to the plethora of different language spoken on Coruscant, resulted in him picking up languages. He picked up on words and phrases from other cultures quickly and almost never forgot them.
By age 9 he had joined his neighborhood kid's street gang and started to get into trouble. They stole and caused mayhem wherever but what really got them in trouble was their fight club. They fought each other and others constantly for food, money, toys, etc. They would end up with broken bones, black eyes, ruptured organs and other injuries. Surprisingly Drake would win most of the time since he was willing to take more of a beating than the next guy, he never quit and had no fear of any challenger. Kids generally stopped fighting him unless the stake were pretty high. He was small at that time but super aggressive.
Over the years his parents had two more sons and they followed their brother and he grew extremely protective of them. None of the kids messed with Drake's brothers because they knew he would find them and hurt them.
The Formative years
When Drake hit puberty, he sprouted up like a weed. By 14 he was the biggest human kid on his block. He was failing out of school, just getting pushed through the system. He didn't care. His life was the streets. No matter what he did or where he was, his only constant was brawling. Because he was so big he fought his way to the top of his gang. His gang followed and trusted him more than anyone, almost cultishly. He kept getting into trouble, the only thing protecting him from hard time was his young age.
One day when Drake was 17, he did something extremely stupid. He and his gang robbed a convenience store and he personally beat down four cops and a few security droids in the process and in fleeing the scene. When the neighborhood erupted in chaos as the police began making sweeps to find evidence to prosecute the criminals Drake's father packed him up and shipped him out to the Army Expeditionary Force before the cops could determine it was him.
Forging a Warrior
Drake was not the best recruit - at first. He was difficult to break, difficult to deal with, and difficult to teach. He refused to listen and all the physical punishment they tried to give him, running, hiking, lifting, he took with ease. The only thing that he showed promise in was leadership. The other recruits liked him and grew to look up to him and finally when Drake kept intentionally failing on of the drill instructors sat down with him and explained to him that he was causing the others to fall behind, that the instructors believed in him and were counting on him to help his fellow recruits get through training. He instantly remembered his old gang days, having people counting on him and looking up to him. He snapped out of his resistance and took to his training like a fish to water. He allowed the Force to transform him.
He graduated as the honor graduate from his unit and set records in nearly every event. He especially stood out in the martial arts training. He practiced it, which was a version of the echani martial arts, religiously. He was special promoted to sergeant straight out of basic and recommended for further combat training. He went to a special school for ground combat to further his training in martial arts, leadership, and marksmanship. The school was long and grueling - a year of intense 20 hour on average training days.
By time he had finished he was 19, a sergeant, and deadly.
The Gleams of Potential
Drake had to constantly prove himself being so young in sergeant stripes. He always had to be first, best, and perfect at anything and everything otherwise he got chewed out by those who believed he didn't deserve his stripes. After several months any respected Drake at his position. His commanders trusted him and his men looked up to him.
His new found status would be vital in the next phase of his career because his unit got deployed. Apparently some well equipped mercenaries had taken over a mining station. There were far too many for a small strike force but the mission wasn't pressing enough for Jedi so the AEF got its chance to flex its muscles. It wasn't their usually MO but they were itching for a fight. Drake's unit was the first to deploy.
As they troop transports pulled nearer, the base erupted with AA fire. Heavy blaster fire and shrapnel rocked the transports as they approached. The crew worked furiously to maintain the shields and the attack pattern. They had explicit orders not to fire upon the facility, so as not to damage it. They just had to take the fire head on. Drake was nervous, but he hid it well. When the transport bay doors finally opened, Drake jumped out in front, and goaded his men to follow him. Heavy fighting ensued, the AA fire had killed several of his commanding officers, and as the fighting progressed, the chain of command grew hazy. Only a few platoons of AEF were dropped here and officers grew in short supply. Drake slowly assembled more units under his guidance and carried on his unit's mission. He coordinated nearly his entire battalion throughout the fighting, all the way to mission accomplished, saving the Republic millions in lost revenue.
For his service he received the Republic Operation Service Medal, 1st Class - the highest non-wartime, non-campaign operation medal - and a free ticket to the AEF Officer's College. He graduated in three years, on an expedited track, first in his class. He finally cared in school and applied himself, and once he did, realized his potential.
He was given his officer's sword and sent straight back to the front.
Weapon of the Republic
First to Fight
Do or Die,
Death to the Enemy
These became part of Drake's psyche. He became truly a weapon of the Republic. Wherever they pointed him, he moved, attacked, and conquered. Over the course of the next few years he saw minor actions across the Republic. Small skirmishes, standoffs rebellions, etc. Over the years for his valorous service he received his Captaincy.
When the Sith attacked the AEF was always on the front and nearly always the first into combat. The struggles of the Republic have taken an especially heavy toll on the AEF because of their ethos and style. Their casualties are always higher than any other unit's simply because they refuse to retreat and are extremely stubborn in combat. Even when totally surrounded and cut off the AEF still fights to the death. Drake has done his part in the battles and a chest full of medals, ribbons, and awards proves that but that is not his goal. His goal is victory.
Password: Bylgia
RP Sample:
Silence gripped the men as the transport grew closer to the target. The hum of the engine and the fire from the ground filled the air. Each man was contemplating his own job, fate, and reason for serving. Once again they had been called upon by the Republic and once again they were the first to fight. Apparently some Sith raiders had been hitting some farmers in the system. It would be their job to clear out the raiders. Capt. Halos stood patiently. No matter how many times he went into combat he always got a slight twinge in his gut. A man would be foolish not to feel something before battle, he would die from acting stupidly.
Th doors opened with a whoosh, battle was once again upon them. Drake jumped out immediately and beckoned his men to follow. He made a headlong run for cover behind some rocks. Blasts whizzed past him. He looked over and assessed the situation. Enemies were on the ridge above them pouring down fire. Drake breathed deeply and started barking orders to his Executive officer. "Tell Alpha platoon I want some cover fire on that ridge, they all stay in these rocks and pour down fire. Any automatic weapons from any platoon are to attach to first platoon, spread themselves out, and lay down cover fire as well. Beta and Gamma are to advance with me under the cover fire. Tell the snipers to take out any high priority targets - officers or automatic weapons operators." He said in a clear, firm tone. His orders were relayed throughout the company.
In moments all knew their orders and Drake's company let out a barrage of concentrated fire on the ridge. He surged forward and his men followed. He only thought of the mission and killing the enemy. Blasts were flying all around him but they didn't phase him. He and his men advanced steadily to the ridge, under the cover of the first platoon. His men acted like clock work, they threw grenades onto the ridge as they approached, blasting away the Sith on the ridge.
Drake was the first over the rise and saw the Sith that had gathered at the base of the rise. Next he felt a searing pain in his shoulder and was launched backwards. Confusion, pain, disorientation - this was all he knew for what seemed like forever. He felt a strong grip and that he was being dragged backwards. He snapped out of his delirium and shrugged his men off. He stood up and tied to move his arm, no good, too painful. He simply dropped his rifle, took out his side arm and went back to the fore of the fighting. He had a mission to do, not even death would stop him, not today.
