Post by Jace on Aug 5, 2009 10:15:00 GMT -5
Faction:Republic
Department:Army 3rd SOG-Sierra
Rank:Sergeant Major
Name:Crosis Callsign:Sierra-259 aka Wizard
Race:Feeorin
Age:47
Height:6'6
Weight:223 pounds
Appearance:
Crosis is one of the rare Feeorin's to have entirely black skin. His appearance is imposing to say the least. His jet black skin is accompanied by his bright red eyes and bulky build. All members of Sierra are outfitted with modified Republic combat armor which is also painted jet black. Crosis carries a modified semi automatic rifle(slugthrower) and standard SOG military issue pistol(slugthrower)
Birth place:Yaga Minor
Skills:
Mid Range Maestro
Demolitions
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 7
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 8
Leadership: 7
Unarmed: 7
Melee Weapons:5
Ranged Weapons:9
Alignment:+5
Outfitting:
Rifle
S12
Silenced
Semi-automatic
5.56 AP rounds
30 round magazines
Pistol
S3
Silenced
Semi-automatic
.45 round
12 round magazine
Standard Special Operations Armor
Standard Demolitions kit
Bio:
Greed, it drove the agenda of so many in the galaxy, especially one Feeorin couple. Therefore their perspective of parenthood was sadly warped. Thus when the jet black Crosis was born, they saw only opportunity. A rare color among Feeorins, his parents saw this as an omen. Both of Crosis’ parents were professors at a college in Yaga Minor, and thought very highly of themselves. They believed their son with his rare appearance would bring them fortune.
The young Feeorin began his education earlier than most. Crosis wasn’t showing the promise that his parents had hoped for. Other than his appearance, he was average in all meaning of the word. This didn’t bother him one bit but it infuriated his parents. Of course infuriating his parents had become one of Crosis’ favorite hobbies. He seemed completely estranged from his parents, like he wasn’t even their son. He didn’t have any of their qualities, hell, he didn’t even look anything like them. He almost would have doubted he was their child except for the fact that there weren’t any other Feeorins around.
Suffice to say, Crosis was growing up to be quite the rebel. He still attended school, as much as he wished to spit his parents, he didn’t want to be stupid either. Family problems only grew as Crosis grew older. His parents hoped that he would suddenly become some genius which of course he did not. Instead Crosis pushed forward with his life, he figured he would be fine regardless of what his parents had said. His appearance initially made it hard for Crosis to make friends but people soon learned that he was quite amiable. Aside from his parents, Crosis’ life was simple and uneventful, until the age of 15.
It was like any other day at school, right up until the screaming and blaster fire. Terrorists rushed into the school, killing indiscriminately. Kids were running here and there, more than a few were seriously injured through the panic alone. Crosis and a bunch of others quickly ran to the nearest classroom, hoping to find a window from which to escape. That idea immediately became old as they realized they were on the second floor. The drop would at the minimum leave them with broken legs if not worse. Hurried footsteps, screaming, blaster fire, and then nothing. The footsteps were fast approaching; the children all huddled in the corner, all except for Crosis. All his life he had rebelled, he wasn’t about to stop now.
The young Feeorin made it to the side of the door just in time as it slid open. He watched the man enter, blaster leveled at the others, finger on the trigger. Crosis sprang from behind, tackling the terrorist to the ground. It is important to note that the Feeorin had grown quite a bit and he wasn’t exactly weak either. As the blaster slid across the floor, Crosis grabbed a fist full of the man’s hair and slammed his head into the floor. Once, twice, three times before he felt the man’s body go limp beneath him. He walked over and picked up the man’s blaster. Common sense told him to just sit tight in the room until help arrived. Common sense was overridden by the thought of his classmates being slaughtered.
The hallway was empty, the silence unnerved Crosis greatly but he pushed forward. He struggled to keep the blaster from shaking in his hand as he moved slowly through the hallway. He was pretty sure he had just killed a man back there with his bare hands. The Feeorin suddenly heard screams behind him, and pivoted. Sprinting forward, he abandoned all caution, praying he would reach in time. Seconds later he found himself at the origin of the screaming. Crosis was sickened; he had literally caught the terrorist with his pants down. The young girl’s eyes found him, the terrorist tried to bring his weapon to bear. An enraged Crosis fired three times without hesitation and watched the man fall dead to the floor.
Quickly making his way over to the man’s body, he grabbed the blaster clips for his own gun. Crosis was an avid reader, and had read his share of military novels. He knew that unlike Holonet dramas, guns did run out of ammo. Motioning for the girl to follow, he led her back to the room with the others. It seemed that this floor was devoid of any terrorists now which meant it was time to move downstairs. Crosis had one thing going for him, the element of surprise. A minute or so later, Crosis was moving slowly down the steps. He suddenly froze as he noticed a man standing at the foot of the steps. Luckily for him the man was facing the opposite direction. Crosis raised his blaster for the second time and squeezed the trigger. The sound of the blaster seemed unnaturally loud followed by the scream of the man as he fell to the ground. He heard the shouts of other terrorists, looks like the element of surprise was eliminated so he did the only thing he could, he ran.
Firing down one hallway, he quickly turned into another, sprinting until he came up with a plan. Crosis reached the end of the hallway and was horrified as he realized he had trapped himself. He went into the nearest classroom, looking for some way out, frenzied. Finding none, he tried to find some way to block the entrance. A sudden sense of shame hit him. He was cowering, looking for any way to live, like some coward. The fact that he was only 15 made no difference to him. If he was going to die, he wasn’t going to do it hiding behind some desk. The Feeorin was suddenly calm, everything suddenly seemed so clear. Crosis stepped out of the room and into death.
Except there was no death, only a blinding flash of light and a loud bang which causes his senses to reel. He barely heard the sound of blaster fire and by the time his vision returned all the terrorists were dead. Instead, standing there were three men covered from armor from head to toe. Crosis raised his blaster as they stepped toward him but lowered it as one said “It’s alright, we are the good guys” The Feeorin numbly handed his blaster over to the one the soldiers and almost collapsed if one of the others hadn’t caught him.”Just the adrenaline wearing off, you’ll be fine” Other soldiers came into view and walked over to them. “Sir we found two more upstairs, along with the one at the staircase. This kid’s got some real guts” Still numbed, Crosis shook the hand of each of the Republic soldiers as they congratulated them.
Three years later, Crosis was not out celebrating his 18th birthday, instead he was standing inside the recruiter’s office. He had waited three long years since that day at the school until he could officially join the army. Only hours after the incident he had made the decision to join, totally enamored by the soldiers that saved him. Crosis hoped that one day he could be at least a fraction of what those courageous soldiers had been. Thus the Feeorin began his long and distinguished career in the military.
The Pressure of Prestige
Crosis was shipped off to Carida, which held one of the most prestigious military academies in the galaxy. Only the most promising candidates were sent here and so the Feeorin was greatly honored. It was also the most intimidating and aggressive atmosphere he had ever experienced. Some of the most brilliant and talented people in the galaxy sat in the same room as him. He learned that a high percentage of officers in the Republic had graduated from Carida’s OCS program.
He was relatively average at most things, but average was not accepted at Carida. He wasn’t a strategist but neither was he a grunt. He was neither a natural leader nor a mere follower. He wasn’t overly strong yet he surely wasn’t weak. There was one thing he did extremely well though, shoot. Combined with his relatively quick speed, Crosis was the epitome of the all-round NCO. Though he was never squad leader in exercises, he usually was second in command. Fellow cadets looked to him for guidance but at the same time didn’t put full stock into him as they would a commander.
The Feeorin’s ability to shoot with rifles would have been legendary anywhere else, but not at Carida. He was still in the top 5% of his class, but he was not the best. Ambition was not one of Crosis’ traits so not being the best never really bothered him. He had grown fiercely loyal to the Republic especially to its military. Thus he was driven to excel in a manner that would’ve made his parents proud if he were in a lucrative field. Of course Crosis hadn’t given a single thought to his parents since he come to the Academy. No, he had a new life ahead of him, one with purpose, one of his choosing.
Unhappy with just his ability to shoot, Crosis searched for a specialty, and found it in demolitions. He didn’t have an infatuation with explosions as many of his peers did but he couldn’t deny that he had found a calling in demolitions. Many were under the impression that demo was as simple as placing an explosive somewhere and setting it off. They were completely wrong. He studied every explosive known in the galaxy. He learned how to defuse and disarm bombs. He learned how to create explosives. There was a great deal of math involved also. All in all it proved to be a difficult yet rewarding task for Crosis. Demolitions training had reduced his feeling of inadequacy and once again gave him a sense of purpose.
The time soon came for graduation and Crosis was faced with a choice. He had been offered a place in OCS school, a chance of a lifetime or he could go serve immediately in the army. Crosis never regretted his decision to go straight into the army.
Duty Calls, A Soldier Responds
The Feeorin was immediately promoted to the rank of corporal upon officially joining the Army. Much of his early years in the Army were spent on training exercises and things of that nature. The fact was that the Republic was not at war and there was little need for the Army. They instead trained and practiced so when the time came, they would be ready to face whatever challenge was thrown at them. Like many of his fellow soldiers, he yearned for some sort of battle.
Crosis’ Carida training soon showed its differences as he was quickly promoted to sergeant. He was shifted to another outfit and thrown into a different squad. Luckily they managed to get along well and so their squad functioned well. Crosis hadn’t lost his amiable nature and was still easy to get along with. The squad soon made its way to the top of the company through the training drills and scenarios. The Feeorin had shown his worth with both his shooting and skills with demolitions.
Another few years had passed and Crosis had once again been promoted, this time to staff sergeant. Every once in awhile the company commander would ask about OCS and the Feeorin would reject the offer. Usually it wasn’t his place to do such a thing, but he had no desire to be a commissioned officer. If he became a CO, he would be out of the fight before he was ever in it. Crosis understood the need for officers but sitting behind a desk while others fought did not appeal to him at all.
It wasn’t until his next promotion that the Feeorin’s military career took a step in a new direction. Summoned by the company commander he was surprised to find another officer waiting there but quickly snapped of a smart salute. He introduced himself as Major Tomlinson, an officer in the army’s 3rd Special Operations Group. Crosis had vaguely heard of the Army’s SOG but he supposed he wasn’t really meant to hear much about it. The Major without warning offered Crosis a place in the 3rd SOG. The Feeorin was stunned but managed to somehow convey that he was honored and would accept the offer. He had heard so many rumors about special operations and their feats, he was about to join the ranks alongside some of the most elite soldiers in the galaxy.
Crosis felt as if he was back in Carida all over again. Except this time he was pretty sure it was even worse. The soldiers here had so much experience, done things that Crosis would never hear of, they were the elite of the Republic. The Feeorin tried to remind himself that they had all started just as he had, no different. He was somewhat relieved to know that they still functioned in squads of 3 or 4, something he was used to doing.
The Feeorin was surprised to learn that all his squad mates were non commissioned. He had expected the squads to be loaded with CO’s assuming that they were promoted based on their experience. Apparently those in special operations forgo rank to do what was necessary. Crosis felt he could at least connect to his squad on that level. His commanding officer was a burly 2nd lieutenant who looked as if he had been around the block about 10 times or so.
The staff sergeant learned a great deal from his CO, the sort of things that kept a soldier alive. He had learned that they had been all over the galaxy, inserted into various hotspots over the years. Local law enforcement wasn’t always enough, neither was regular military. There were things that needed to be done quickly, efficiently, and off the books. Crosis understood of course, not every enemy came in the form of an empire with the namesake of evil long past. A nation as large as the Republic had to deal with insurgents, malcontents, and a whole variety of other baddies.
He soon got into the swing of things after playing a little catch up. The Lieutenant said the Feeorin had picked things up quicker than he had but Crosis just assumed he was being nice. Truth was that Crosis was more talented than he realized. If he had given it any sort of though he would’ve realized that’s why he was in the 3rd SOG. During his early years in the 3rd, he also picked up some more advanced demolitions training. It was a big step above what he had learned at Carida but he adjusted to the learning curve.
It was in his first few years in the 3rd that Crosis made the permanent switch over to slugthrowers. Up until that point he had only very basic training with the slug firing guns. Though they were different than blasters, his ability to fire them accurately hadn’t changed. It was so accurate in fact that he had been dubbed ‘Wizard’ by his squad. Since his ability to put a bullet between a person’s eyes was like magic. Though training was intensive, Crosis’ early years were relatively quiet. The Feeorin was still green in terms of actual combat experience; it was not to remain so.
Insurgents, Malcontents, and Other Baddies
Taris, a world that had been ravaged by the Jedi Civil war, was also the location of Crosis’ first mission. It seemed that a certain group of people weren’t content with the reconstruction that was going on. Instead they had decided to take hostages to halt the current construction. One of these hostages was a senator, a highly influential one. A senator who Crosis later learned would support increased military funding. The Feeorin shipped out along with three other squads, brass didn’t want to take any chances.
Surprisingly these malcontents seemed to be well trained and well prepared. Prepared for normal resistance, not for the 3rd SOG. They hit the building like a Chadran hurricane; it was over in a matter of minutes. Crosis’ squad had entered from the roof, and had been the first to reach the senator. He had personally tagged four malcontents including one who was holding the senator at gun point. Relieved to know that his shooting was spot on in real combat, Crosis earned himself a promotion and more importantly, respect.
Only six months later the squad found themselves on the fortress world of Yaga Minor. Intelligence reported that a group of insurgents were hiding out on planet. Their leader held vital information on the other cells, and needed to be capture alive. The Feeorin soon discovered that capturing a subject alive was much harder than just killing them. They had holed up in a warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Breaching easy enough, the insurgents held their ground and provided surprisingly tough resistance. Crosis put his knowledge of demolitions to use by flanking around the complex, and blowing a new hole in the side of the building. Luckily for him the target was on the other side otherwise he would’ve been vaporized like the two other tangos. All in all a little messier than usual but they still managed to complete their objective.
During the following year, the squad followed up on the information from the captured insurgent. Jumping from the Core to the rim, eliminating these hostile entities before they can enact their plans. Successful mission after successful mission led to Crosis’ promotion to Warrant officer 2nd class. The Feeorin attained the rank much later than he would have in regular army, but this wasn’t regular army. Rank didn’t mean much to him, in special operations, everyone was essentially the same rank. Experience usually decided who decisions were differed to though. Along with his promotion came another surprise, he was to be assigned to the Sierra outfit.
Sierra was a special outfit within the 3rd Special operations group. Sierra was akin to special operations within special operations. He even got a new codename, simply dubbed, Sierra-259 or S-259. Crosis was a little down about parting with his squad but this was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up. The Feeorin couldn’t even speak to his fellow soldiers in the 3rd about what he did in Sierra. It came with the territory and it was a small price to pay for the good of the Republic.
Crosis was once again thrown into a squad of soldiers who looked like they had fought about five wars and were ready to fight another five more. Just as he had suspected they had done about everything a special ops soldier could. This time though, The Feeorin was not green as he been all those years ago when he had joined the 3rd. Still he learned what he could from those in his squad, picking up the tips and advice that you could only get from seasoned warriors.
Only months after joining Sierra, Crosis was sent on an assignment to the planet of Falleen. The dense jungles and rainforests of the planet made for excellent hiding. One such criminal faction had done just that by shifting their operation to Falleen. Most of their business had focused on human trafficking, something which the Republic did not look kindly upon. It had taken the Republic years to track down their headquarters. The mission template was simple, locate the facility, and eliminate any hostiles present. Brass was not forgiving, and Crosis completely understood as he found the whole concept of trafficking revolting.
The squad had a general idea of where the facility was located and after an hour of careful searching they found it. The place looked like a prison, heavily guarded, one entrance. That didn’t bother Crosis though; making a new entrance wouldn’t take much effort. The lack of guards didn’t surprise him; they probably assumed that their facility would never be found. Planting a heavy charge on the eastern wall, he waited for the squad to get clear before arming it. The explosion left a gaping hole in the wall, flashbangs were tossed in before they squad moved in. Mere seconds later, multiple men lay dead on, gaping holes in their heads. They pushed through the facility encountering pockets of resistance here and there. A quick three round burst and maybe a thermal detonator were enough to handle anything thrown at them. An hour later the facility had been secured and about a hundred people freed. Crosis was left with the job of leveling the building and he did so with a certain sense of satisfaction.
A few months after the mission Crosis received his promotion to Sergeant Major. Missions did not come as frequently anymore and Crosis and the rest of Sierra went back to training. The next years were filled with sporadic missions here and there. The Feeorin’s success rate still remained at a 100% and he intended to keep it that way. Finally, now at the age of 42 with war brewing on the horizon, Crosis knows it is only a matter of time before his next mission.
RP Sample:
The warehouse seemed eerily quiet, it was somewhat disconcerting. Thermals showed multiple heat signatures which reassured the Feeorin that their targets were present. The squad slowly approached the target building, fanning out as they did so. Crosis marked the lack of guards but the lieutenant pointed out that they would draw unnecessary attention.
They formed up on the entrance, a few hand signals told Crosis all he needed to know. A simple breach followed by two flashbangs and then move in. The Feeorin stepped forward, quickly rummaging through his demo pack to find a minor charge. He studied the door for a moment and with a few quick calculations decided which charge would be best. He placed it lightly on the door, armed it, and stepped back into position. The lieutenant nodded and Crosis hit the detonation switch.
He heard yelling followed by the unmistakable crack of two flashbangs. Gun raised, the Feeorin was the second to step into the warehouse. He swept to the right and found his first target, sighted and depressed the trigger. A puff of red exploded from the back of the man's head but Crosis had already turned to his next target. The disorientation from the flashbang had given the soldiers to even the odds in this firefight. Six insurgents already laid dead on the ground by the time the others recovered.
"Objective spotted, northwest" a voice said over his comm
Crosis turned to see the face of a man which he had seen on a holopad not hours ago. He was their target, he was to be captured alive. Crosis wasn't inclined to let the man live, but he knew that the man could information on more insurgents and possibly save many innocent lives. The Feeorin had been moving from cover to cover, trying to get closer. Their opposition had suddenly dug in and made a stand.
He primed a thermal detonator and tossed it up and over. A satisfying explosion followed seconds later accompanied by the screams of two men. He looked over at his comrades and could tell they were all thinking the same thing. This was taking too long. Soon local law enforcement would arrive and it would be a goddamn mess.
"Wizard, see if you can't find a way around" the lieutenant's voice crackled over the comm
"Roger, cover on three" responded Crosis
The Feeorin tensed and then sprang forward back the way he had come. A bolt clipped his shoulder as he dived through the entrance he had come through minutes ago. He quickly made his way around to east side of the warehouse. He pulled a large explosive from his pack and allowed himself a small grin. Those thrice damned terrorists wouldn't know what hit em.
Department:Army 3rd SOG-Sierra
Rank:Sergeant Major
Name:Crosis Callsign:Sierra-259 aka Wizard
Race:Feeorin
Age:47
Height:6'6
Weight:223 pounds
Appearance:
Crosis is one of the rare Feeorin's to have entirely black skin. His appearance is imposing to say the least. His jet black skin is accompanied by his bright red eyes and bulky build. All members of Sierra are outfitted with modified Republic combat armor which is also painted jet black. Crosis carries a modified semi automatic rifle(slugthrower) and standard SOG military issue pistol(slugthrower)
Birth place:Yaga Minor
Skills:
Mid Range Maestro
Demolitions
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 7
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 8
Leadership: 7
Unarmed: 7
Melee Weapons:5
Ranged Weapons:9
Alignment:+5
Outfitting:
Rifle
S12
Silenced
Semi-automatic
5.56 AP rounds
30 round magazines
Pistol
S3
Silenced
Semi-automatic
.45 round
12 round magazine
Standard Special Operations Armor
Standard Demolitions kit
Bio:
A Lack of Greed
Greed, it drove the agenda of so many in the galaxy, especially one Feeorin couple. Therefore their perspective of parenthood was sadly warped. Thus when the jet black Crosis was born, they saw only opportunity. A rare color among Feeorins, his parents saw this as an omen. Both of Crosis’ parents were professors at a college in Yaga Minor, and thought very highly of themselves. They believed their son with his rare appearance would bring them fortune.
The young Feeorin began his education earlier than most. Crosis wasn’t showing the promise that his parents had hoped for. Other than his appearance, he was average in all meaning of the word. This didn’t bother him one bit but it infuriated his parents. Of course infuriating his parents had become one of Crosis’ favorite hobbies. He seemed completely estranged from his parents, like he wasn’t even their son. He didn’t have any of their qualities, hell, he didn’t even look anything like them. He almost would have doubted he was their child except for the fact that there weren’t any other Feeorins around.
Suffice to say, Crosis was growing up to be quite the rebel. He still attended school, as much as he wished to spit his parents, he didn’t want to be stupid either. Family problems only grew as Crosis grew older. His parents hoped that he would suddenly become some genius which of course he did not. Instead Crosis pushed forward with his life, he figured he would be fine regardless of what his parents had said. His appearance initially made it hard for Crosis to make friends but people soon learned that he was quite amiable. Aside from his parents, Crosis’ life was simple and uneventful, until the age of 15.
It was like any other day at school, right up until the screaming and blaster fire. Terrorists rushed into the school, killing indiscriminately. Kids were running here and there, more than a few were seriously injured through the panic alone. Crosis and a bunch of others quickly ran to the nearest classroom, hoping to find a window from which to escape. That idea immediately became old as they realized they were on the second floor. The drop would at the minimum leave them with broken legs if not worse. Hurried footsteps, screaming, blaster fire, and then nothing. The footsteps were fast approaching; the children all huddled in the corner, all except for Crosis. All his life he had rebelled, he wasn’t about to stop now.
The young Feeorin made it to the side of the door just in time as it slid open. He watched the man enter, blaster leveled at the others, finger on the trigger. Crosis sprang from behind, tackling the terrorist to the ground. It is important to note that the Feeorin had grown quite a bit and he wasn’t exactly weak either. As the blaster slid across the floor, Crosis grabbed a fist full of the man’s hair and slammed his head into the floor. Once, twice, three times before he felt the man’s body go limp beneath him. He walked over and picked up the man’s blaster. Common sense told him to just sit tight in the room until help arrived. Common sense was overridden by the thought of his classmates being slaughtered.
The hallway was empty, the silence unnerved Crosis greatly but he pushed forward. He struggled to keep the blaster from shaking in his hand as he moved slowly through the hallway. He was pretty sure he had just killed a man back there with his bare hands. The Feeorin suddenly heard screams behind him, and pivoted. Sprinting forward, he abandoned all caution, praying he would reach in time. Seconds later he found himself at the origin of the screaming. Crosis was sickened; he had literally caught the terrorist with his pants down. The young girl’s eyes found him, the terrorist tried to bring his weapon to bear. An enraged Crosis fired three times without hesitation and watched the man fall dead to the floor.
Quickly making his way over to the man’s body, he grabbed the blaster clips for his own gun. Crosis was an avid reader, and had read his share of military novels. He knew that unlike Holonet dramas, guns did run out of ammo. Motioning for the girl to follow, he led her back to the room with the others. It seemed that this floor was devoid of any terrorists now which meant it was time to move downstairs. Crosis had one thing going for him, the element of surprise. A minute or so later, Crosis was moving slowly down the steps. He suddenly froze as he noticed a man standing at the foot of the steps. Luckily for him the man was facing the opposite direction. Crosis raised his blaster for the second time and squeezed the trigger. The sound of the blaster seemed unnaturally loud followed by the scream of the man as he fell to the ground. He heard the shouts of other terrorists, looks like the element of surprise was eliminated so he did the only thing he could, he ran.
Firing down one hallway, he quickly turned into another, sprinting until he came up with a plan. Crosis reached the end of the hallway and was horrified as he realized he had trapped himself. He went into the nearest classroom, looking for some way out, frenzied. Finding none, he tried to find some way to block the entrance. A sudden sense of shame hit him. He was cowering, looking for any way to live, like some coward. The fact that he was only 15 made no difference to him. If he was going to die, he wasn’t going to do it hiding behind some desk. The Feeorin was suddenly calm, everything suddenly seemed so clear. Crosis stepped out of the room and into death.
Except there was no death, only a blinding flash of light and a loud bang which causes his senses to reel. He barely heard the sound of blaster fire and by the time his vision returned all the terrorists were dead. Instead, standing there were three men covered from armor from head to toe. Crosis raised his blaster as they stepped toward him but lowered it as one said “It’s alright, we are the good guys” The Feeorin numbly handed his blaster over to the one the soldiers and almost collapsed if one of the others hadn’t caught him.”Just the adrenaline wearing off, you’ll be fine” Other soldiers came into view and walked over to them. “Sir we found two more upstairs, along with the one at the staircase. This kid’s got some real guts” Still numbed, Crosis shook the hand of each of the Republic soldiers as they congratulated them.
Three years later, Crosis was not out celebrating his 18th birthday, instead he was standing inside the recruiter’s office. He had waited three long years since that day at the school until he could officially join the army. Only hours after the incident he had made the decision to join, totally enamored by the soldiers that saved him. Crosis hoped that one day he could be at least a fraction of what those courageous soldiers had been. Thus the Feeorin began his long and distinguished career in the military.
The Pressure of Prestige
Crosis was shipped off to Carida, which held one of the most prestigious military academies in the galaxy. Only the most promising candidates were sent here and so the Feeorin was greatly honored. It was also the most intimidating and aggressive atmosphere he had ever experienced. Some of the most brilliant and talented people in the galaxy sat in the same room as him. He learned that a high percentage of officers in the Republic had graduated from Carida’s OCS program.
He was relatively average at most things, but average was not accepted at Carida. He wasn’t a strategist but neither was he a grunt. He was neither a natural leader nor a mere follower. He wasn’t overly strong yet he surely wasn’t weak. There was one thing he did extremely well though, shoot. Combined with his relatively quick speed, Crosis was the epitome of the all-round NCO. Though he was never squad leader in exercises, he usually was second in command. Fellow cadets looked to him for guidance but at the same time didn’t put full stock into him as they would a commander.
The Feeorin’s ability to shoot with rifles would have been legendary anywhere else, but not at Carida. He was still in the top 5% of his class, but he was not the best. Ambition was not one of Crosis’ traits so not being the best never really bothered him. He had grown fiercely loyal to the Republic especially to its military. Thus he was driven to excel in a manner that would’ve made his parents proud if he were in a lucrative field. Of course Crosis hadn’t given a single thought to his parents since he come to the Academy. No, he had a new life ahead of him, one with purpose, one of his choosing.
Unhappy with just his ability to shoot, Crosis searched for a specialty, and found it in demolitions. He didn’t have an infatuation with explosions as many of his peers did but he couldn’t deny that he had found a calling in demolitions. Many were under the impression that demo was as simple as placing an explosive somewhere and setting it off. They were completely wrong. He studied every explosive known in the galaxy. He learned how to defuse and disarm bombs. He learned how to create explosives. There was a great deal of math involved also. All in all it proved to be a difficult yet rewarding task for Crosis. Demolitions training had reduced his feeling of inadequacy and once again gave him a sense of purpose.
The time soon came for graduation and Crosis was faced with a choice. He had been offered a place in OCS school, a chance of a lifetime or he could go serve immediately in the army. Crosis never regretted his decision to go straight into the army.
Duty Calls, A Soldier Responds
The Feeorin was immediately promoted to the rank of corporal upon officially joining the Army. Much of his early years in the Army were spent on training exercises and things of that nature. The fact was that the Republic was not at war and there was little need for the Army. They instead trained and practiced so when the time came, they would be ready to face whatever challenge was thrown at them. Like many of his fellow soldiers, he yearned for some sort of battle.
Crosis’ Carida training soon showed its differences as he was quickly promoted to sergeant. He was shifted to another outfit and thrown into a different squad. Luckily they managed to get along well and so their squad functioned well. Crosis hadn’t lost his amiable nature and was still easy to get along with. The squad soon made its way to the top of the company through the training drills and scenarios. The Feeorin had shown his worth with both his shooting and skills with demolitions.
Another few years had passed and Crosis had once again been promoted, this time to staff sergeant. Every once in awhile the company commander would ask about OCS and the Feeorin would reject the offer. Usually it wasn’t his place to do such a thing, but he had no desire to be a commissioned officer. If he became a CO, he would be out of the fight before he was ever in it. Crosis understood the need for officers but sitting behind a desk while others fought did not appeal to him at all.
It wasn’t until his next promotion that the Feeorin’s military career took a step in a new direction. Summoned by the company commander he was surprised to find another officer waiting there but quickly snapped of a smart salute. He introduced himself as Major Tomlinson, an officer in the army’s 3rd Special Operations Group. Crosis had vaguely heard of the Army’s SOG but he supposed he wasn’t really meant to hear much about it. The Major without warning offered Crosis a place in the 3rd SOG. The Feeorin was stunned but managed to somehow convey that he was honored and would accept the offer. He had heard so many rumors about special operations and their feats, he was about to join the ranks alongside some of the most elite soldiers in the galaxy.
The Animals of SOG
Crosis felt as if he was back in Carida all over again. Except this time he was pretty sure it was even worse. The soldiers here had so much experience, done things that Crosis would never hear of, they were the elite of the Republic. The Feeorin tried to remind himself that they had all started just as he had, no different. He was somewhat relieved to know that they still functioned in squads of 3 or 4, something he was used to doing.
The Feeorin was surprised to learn that all his squad mates were non commissioned. He had expected the squads to be loaded with CO’s assuming that they were promoted based on their experience. Apparently those in special operations forgo rank to do what was necessary. Crosis felt he could at least connect to his squad on that level. His commanding officer was a burly 2nd lieutenant who looked as if he had been around the block about 10 times or so.
The staff sergeant learned a great deal from his CO, the sort of things that kept a soldier alive. He had learned that they had been all over the galaxy, inserted into various hotspots over the years. Local law enforcement wasn’t always enough, neither was regular military. There were things that needed to be done quickly, efficiently, and off the books. Crosis understood of course, not every enemy came in the form of an empire with the namesake of evil long past. A nation as large as the Republic had to deal with insurgents, malcontents, and a whole variety of other baddies.
He soon got into the swing of things after playing a little catch up. The Lieutenant said the Feeorin had picked things up quicker than he had but Crosis just assumed he was being nice. Truth was that Crosis was more talented than he realized. If he had given it any sort of though he would’ve realized that’s why he was in the 3rd SOG. During his early years in the 3rd, he also picked up some more advanced demolitions training. It was a big step above what he had learned at Carida but he adjusted to the learning curve.
It was in his first few years in the 3rd that Crosis made the permanent switch over to slugthrowers. Up until that point he had only very basic training with the slug firing guns. Though they were different than blasters, his ability to fire them accurately hadn’t changed. It was so accurate in fact that he had been dubbed ‘Wizard’ by his squad. Since his ability to put a bullet between a person’s eyes was like magic. Though training was intensive, Crosis’ early years were relatively quiet. The Feeorin was still green in terms of actual combat experience; it was not to remain so.
Insurgents, Malcontents, and Other Baddies
Taris, a world that had been ravaged by the Jedi Civil war, was also the location of Crosis’ first mission. It seemed that a certain group of people weren’t content with the reconstruction that was going on. Instead they had decided to take hostages to halt the current construction. One of these hostages was a senator, a highly influential one. A senator who Crosis later learned would support increased military funding. The Feeorin shipped out along with three other squads, brass didn’t want to take any chances.
Surprisingly these malcontents seemed to be well trained and well prepared. Prepared for normal resistance, not for the 3rd SOG. They hit the building like a Chadran hurricane; it was over in a matter of minutes. Crosis’ squad had entered from the roof, and had been the first to reach the senator. He had personally tagged four malcontents including one who was holding the senator at gun point. Relieved to know that his shooting was spot on in real combat, Crosis earned himself a promotion and more importantly, respect.
Only six months later the squad found themselves on the fortress world of Yaga Minor. Intelligence reported that a group of insurgents were hiding out on planet. Their leader held vital information on the other cells, and needed to be capture alive. The Feeorin soon discovered that capturing a subject alive was much harder than just killing them. They had holed up in a warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Breaching easy enough, the insurgents held their ground and provided surprisingly tough resistance. Crosis put his knowledge of demolitions to use by flanking around the complex, and blowing a new hole in the side of the building. Luckily for him the target was on the other side otherwise he would’ve been vaporized like the two other tangos. All in all a little messier than usual but they still managed to complete their objective.
During the following year, the squad followed up on the information from the captured insurgent. Jumping from the Core to the rim, eliminating these hostile entities before they can enact their plans. Successful mission after successful mission led to Crosis’ promotion to Warrant officer 2nd class. The Feeorin attained the rank much later than he would have in regular army, but this wasn’t regular army. Rank didn’t mean much to him, in special operations, everyone was essentially the same rank. Experience usually decided who decisions were differed to though. Along with his promotion came another surprise, he was to be assigned to the Sierra outfit.
Darker than Black, Sierra
Sierra was a special outfit within the 3rd Special operations group. Sierra was akin to special operations within special operations. He even got a new codename, simply dubbed, Sierra-259 or S-259. Crosis was a little down about parting with his squad but this was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up. The Feeorin couldn’t even speak to his fellow soldiers in the 3rd about what he did in Sierra. It came with the territory and it was a small price to pay for the good of the Republic.
Crosis was once again thrown into a squad of soldiers who looked like they had fought about five wars and were ready to fight another five more. Just as he had suspected they had done about everything a special ops soldier could. This time though, The Feeorin was not green as he been all those years ago when he had joined the 3rd. Still he learned what he could from those in his squad, picking up the tips and advice that you could only get from seasoned warriors.
Only months after joining Sierra, Crosis was sent on an assignment to the planet of Falleen. The dense jungles and rainforests of the planet made for excellent hiding. One such criminal faction had done just that by shifting their operation to Falleen. Most of their business had focused on human trafficking, something which the Republic did not look kindly upon. It had taken the Republic years to track down their headquarters. The mission template was simple, locate the facility, and eliminate any hostiles present. Brass was not forgiving, and Crosis completely understood as he found the whole concept of trafficking revolting.
The squad had a general idea of where the facility was located and after an hour of careful searching they found it. The place looked like a prison, heavily guarded, one entrance. That didn’t bother Crosis though; making a new entrance wouldn’t take much effort. The lack of guards didn’t surprise him; they probably assumed that their facility would never be found. Planting a heavy charge on the eastern wall, he waited for the squad to get clear before arming it. The explosion left a gaping hole in the wall, flashbangs were tossed in before they squad moved in. Mere seconds later, multiple men lay dead on, gaping holes in their heads. They pushed through the facility encountering pockets of resistance here and there. A quick three round burst and maybe a thermal detonator were enough to handle anything thrown at them. An hour later the facility had been secured and about a hundred people freed. Crosis was left with the job of leveling the building and he did so with a certain sense of satisfaction.
A few months after the mission Crosis received his promotion to Sergeant Major. Missions did not come as frequently anymore and Crosis and the rest of Sierra went back to training. The next years were filled with sporadic missions here and there. The Feeorin’s success rate still remained at a 100% and he intended to keep it that way. Finally, now at the age of 42 with war brewing on the horizon, Crosis knows it is only a matter of time before his next mission.
RP Sample:
The warehouse seemed eerily quiet, it was somewhat disconcerting. Thermals showed multiple heat signatures which reassured the Feeorin that their targets were present. The squad slowly approached the target building, fanning out as they did so. Crosis marked the lack of guards but the lieutenant pointed out that they would draw unnecessary attention.
They formed up on the entrance, a few hand signals told Crosis all he needed to know. A simple breach followed by two flashbangs and then move in. The Feeorin stepped forward, quickly rummaging through his demo pack to find a minor charge. He studied the door for a moment and with a few quick calculations decided which charge would be best. He placed it lightly on the door, armed it, and stepped back into position. The lieutenant nodded and Crosis hit the detonation switch.
He heard yelling followed by the unmistakable crack of two flashbangs. Gun raised, the Feeorin was the second to step into the warehouse. He swept to the right and found his first target, sighted and depressed the trigger. A puff of red exploded from the back of the man's head but Crosis had already turned to his next target. The disorientation from the flashbang had given the soldiers to even the odds in this firefight. Six insurgents already laid dead on the ground by the time the others recovered.
"Objective spotted, northwest" a voice said over his comm
Crosis turned to see the face of a man which he had seen on a holopad not hours ago. He was their target, he was to be captured alive. Crosis wasn't inclined to let the man live, but he knew that the man could information on more insurgents and possibly save many innocent lives. The Feeorin had been moving from cover to cover, trying to get closer. Their opposition had suddenly dug in and made a stand.
He primed a thermal detonator and tossed it up and over. A satisfying explosion followed seconds later accompanied by the screams of two men. He looked over at his comrades and could tell they were all thinking the same thing. This was taking too long. Soon local law enforcement would arrive and it would be a goddamn mess.
"Wizard, see if you can't find a way around" the lieutenant's voice crackled over the comm
"Roger, cover on three" responded Crosis
The Feeorin tensed and then sprang forward back the way he had come. A bolt clipped his shoulder as he dived through the entrance he had come through minutes ago. He quickly made his way around to east side of the warehouse. He pulled a large explosive from his pack and allowed himself a small grin. Those thrice damned terrorists wouldn't know what hit em.
