Post by Rothicus on Aug 27, 2010 23:11:38 GMT -5
'When you are invited, go and sit at the lowest place;
those who humble themselves will be exalted,
and those who exalt themselves shall be humbled.'
those who humble themselves will be exalted,
and those who exalt themselves shall be humbled.'
Faction: Galactic Republic
Branch of Service: Republic Army
Sub-Branch: Airborne/Mechanized Infantry
Rank: Private
Decorations: (worn only with the dress uniform)
Army Qualification Clasp in Silver - Awarded for qualification in all basic areas and proficiency in one, that being his blaster rifle. Worn on the right breast.
Sports Badge, 3rd Class - Awarded for participation in rigorous, state sponsored physical fitness tests. Worn on the right breast.
Army Achievement Medal, 2nd Class - Awarded for retrieving a 'wounded' comrade in a training exercise from a hostile field of fire. Ribbon worn on the left breast, as is the parade bar.
Name: Corbett, Josef K. [KOR-bet, YO-sif]
Alias: Professor
Race: Human
Age: 24 Galactic Standard Years
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 191 lbs
Birth place: Alderaan, Aldera
Appearance: (<- Link)
Standing a bit above six feet, Josef's build could be described as being on the bulky side of average, with a square head to match. Sporting a somewhat fair skin tone, one now tanned by weeks of outdoor living, Josef's face is often clad in a single expression; one of indifference. Keeping his brown hair cut short enough to meet RepMil regs, whenever it grows out before he has a chance to cut it he often combs it to the right out of habit. The most striking feature he can boast would likely be his eyes, a dull emerald, which gleam every now and then with the will of their owner. Though on most occasions they're the only piece of him that seem unique; more often than not he's in uniform at the time, meeting as many regulations as he can bother to, with closely shaven cheeks and a 'Johnny Tent-Peg' uniform. Of course, whilst in the field, such things don't take the top priority, as shaving and cleaning oneself tends to take the secondary preference to survival.
Bearing few distinguishing marks, the most Josef has done to 'personalize' himself would've had to have been a brand that he and many others in the 127th adopted; taking a red-hot iron brand of the unit crest, a one winged fist, and searing it onto their upper right biceps, only partially visible when fatigues are worn with sleeves rolled up.
Personality:
Josef is, as described above, average in appearance, and one could think such of him by briefly speaking with him as well, though if one bothered to dig a bit deeper, one could be surprised. Josef manages either a very convincing facade or an innate sense of nonchalance, and rarely speaks unless spoken too, as his training has drilled into him. One could say that(while in uniform) the stick up his ass, has a stick up its ass. Though, if given the chance, among friends in an informal situation... well, one could say he has the gift of gab. He can easily talk a fencepost to death on a great variety of subjects, ranging from the war to his nephew back on Alderaan, and capable of speaking with such a passion that few tend to master, much less grasp. Most tend to find him tolerable, at least until his quick tongue goes where it shouldn't.
Though in his past he tended to use charisma to his own advantage, and to the disadvantage of others; whether it be money, sex, or even a simple favor, Josef had always pushed his luck, still does on occasion, and has been carried out of harm's way several times by his quick tongue and sharp wit. He's also had his fair share of beatings, though that often hasn't stopped him. Still, after running through basic he's learned to hold his tongue, especially around officers(non commissioned and otherwise), having learned often from other people's mistakes.
For all of his flaws he isn't without heart, as previously mentioned, he's quite fond of his remaining family; his nephew and his sister, Albert and Lea respectively. His former persona, the one fostered by years of coddling and prestige, seems to have been suppressed for good since he emerged from basic training two years ago, having emerged being a man of proper military bearing, one who, for some reason or another, takes his service to be the center of his life. Disconnected somewhat with reality, at least in the sense of value, Josef lacks the materialism so commonly found in the general populace, usually only keeping what he deems as practical. Such could also be seen as a typical military outlook, where one has the chance to keep a great deal of their paycheck for themselves-with no need to pay for utilities, groceries, and the like-and as such he tends to put little value on money, having often bought and sold items for ridiculous amounts of credits.
Skills:
Rifle Proficiency,
First Aid Training,
Sleeping on Demand,
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 6, Josef isn't the most physically fit individual one could think of, though he certainly isn't unfit for service, preforming to meet the standards required for enlisting in the Military and then some, he just isn't overly built.
Intelligence: 5, Josef is an educated man, having received the standard education provided by the Republic as well as maintaining a decent academic status the whole while, and managed to attend two years of university before dropping out, though he isn't an intellectual.
Speed: 5, Put simply, Josef isn't fast, he isn't slow either, he is an enlisted ground pounder, after all. In summary, he's fast enough to pass physical requirements for the military, though he's more like a Lexus; built for comfort, not for speed. Endurance is Josef's forte when it comes to hoofin' it, not speed.
Leadership: 3, Josef, when he was younger, was quite the speaker, though his talents have been sidelined in recent years, they might very well come about again, perhaps in a greater capacity, should he choose to pursue a career as either a NonCom or an Officer proper.
Unarmed: 4, Trained in basic to utilize both his hands and his combat knife, he can make do in a pinch, though he isn't very good.
Melee Weapons: 1, Be it a vibrosword or a crowbar, it's all the same to Josef if it can hurt somebody.
Ranged Weapons: 6, Qualifying like most others with his rifle in basic, Josef went the extra step and made it a hobby of sorts, practicing whenever he got the chance and whenever he'd nothing better to do. While he isn't the best shot, he can group his shots fairly well if he put his mind to it.
Equipment:
M25 Blaster Rifle, issued,
M12 Assault Pistol, issued,
Combat Knife, issued,
Republic Army Uniform, field, issued,
Republic Army Uniform, dress, issued,
Republic Standard Battle Armor, 'Scorpion', issued,
Datapad, private purchase,
Pazaak Deck, private purchase,
2x First Aid Kits, issued,
5x Stims, issued and private purchase,
Alignment: +1
Bio:
Act I
Birth
Birth to age 6
Birth
Birth to age 6
Born to human parents in Aldera, one a maid in a large hotel chain and the other a white-collar pencil pusher, Josef is the product of too much work stressed into too little time, the tensions of both of his parents having created him in a spontaneous event, a point which he would sorely regard in his life story, should he discover such. Being a bastard child rarely ever goes over well, though he did have the benefit of his mother being unwed at the time of his conception. Soon his father departed, leaving Josef, still in his mother's womb, alone with her, and as she soon lost her job due to her physical inability, she managed to find mercy in both her family and a potential suitor's, attaining enough funding to allow for Josef's birth in a hospital with little incident of note. Months thereafter, his mother married the before-mentioned suitor, a man by the name of Ventik Corbett, of whom Josef garnered his surname from. A man of political upbringing, Ventik was something of a crony, though a crony who knew how to make connections with those who mattered on Alderaan.
Josef was raised as many were, a fairly average child to fairly average parents, his mother having found work as a clerk under her new husband, his surrogate father continuing his work as a District Magistrate in the Republic, and much of the time he was raised by his step-sister, Lea, daughter of his step-father to another woman. Until the age of five, many could relate with Josef's life, a young boy who preferred to play rather than work, the favorite game that he and his cousins shared being 'Civil War', as most scrambled for positions as the Republic, Josef eagerly took up the mantle of 'the big bad guy', and often times would've lead the forces of the Sith to victory were it not for the preconceptions of reality that so many children share, still such a experience paved the way for his desire for power, if in a slightly playful sense. Soon, when he reached the age of five years, Josef found himself beginning his long time in the public education system, though his first encounter with those of his age group worked almost in the reverse of most children; it opened him up. Before he was but a normal child, speaking as he pleased, though now he spoke whenever he'd the chance, the encouragement from his instructors and lackluster acknowledgment from his peers beginning to sow a sense of hunger inside of him, a desire for recognition that could only be sated with just that.
Soon enough the constant speech began to seep into all aspects of his life, especially at home, and soon enough Josef ran his mouth one too many times. One night, shortly after Ventik had returned home, Josef began again into his tirade for attention, though Ventik had already imbibed earlier that evening, and needless to say his temper wasn't as long as it usually was, and soon enough Josef was beaten into silence. Such was far from a regular occurrence, and Ventik, despite his faults, didn't mean to injure Josef as he had, though the damage was done. Though such a happening taught Josef a very valuable lesson, one that most never learn; sometimes it's for your own good to shut up. Despite his recent lesson, Josef still continued with his talk, though now he knew when to tone it down, especially in the presence of those that were his superior in both knowledge and strength, and he soon learned the importance of not looking the fool or being beaten to a pulp. Still, he'd yet to rise to the call of his nature, much less the Republic.
Act II
Youth
Ages 7 through 14
[/u][/center]Youth
Ages 7 through 14
Josef's life continued on its average basis for the next few years, his elementary career as well as junior high passing by in a manner that his stepfather could describe as 'lackluster', preferring rather than to study his lessons in mathematics and the sciences to chase some skirt and spend some time with social studies, finding both the pursuit of those of the female persuasion, history, and social sciences to that of math. After a scolding, or two, or ten, he got the idea, and soon enough began to balance out his academic career as he reached his thirteenth year, beginning to attain a much more basic education in all fields rather than specialization in a select one or two, becoming a rather average student in the sense of his academics, though he soon became quite the social product.
Before his stepfather began to scold him in earnest for his failures in the field of academics he'd already managed to garner quite the reputation among his peers, proving to be quite the conversationalist, both in and out of the classroom. Becoming one of those children whom others flock to in the cafeteria, not one of the ones because they're funny or good looking, but because they're enjoyable to be around. Josef was one such child, proving to be neither downtrodden or overly liked, he was one thing over all others; indomitable. Since he was eight, when he first stood up to the then-tyrannical Simo Rathal, one of the larger children who could boast both size and brawn over most, but not smarts. Born to a very poor family, Simo had to resort to violence in order to attain lunch at times, and one day singled out the smaller Josef to extort. Josef managed, even at a disadvantage, to taunt Simo into striking him first, allowing for a retaliatory strike or two, insulting his family by doing such. Contrary to logic, the two thereafter began to warm up to each other, building a friendship from that day, Josef respecting Simo's brawn, and Simo Josef's spirit. For the longest time the two were in like flint, a relationship only strengthened with their days on the touchball team, Josef often playing escort for Simo, intercepting those who would try to take down the much slower Simo.
Soon enough touchball gave way to smashball, and Josef just wasn't built for such a sport, and though the two still remained close as they went into higher education proper, they drifted apart for a while, if only slightly. A matter of importance as he began to come of age were his conversations with his stepfather, who at this point was beginning to have more and more of an impact on his life as the two conversed after their days were over. Speaking on a great many topics at the time, from cafeteria gossip to the state of the Republic, Josef listened eagerly as his father complained of problems at work, both from his superiors and those he directed, making notes as to just how, and why, they'd incurred such low marks with whom he believed to be his father. Being District Magistrate meant sucking up to a great many powers, and such tensions were released in a friendly atmosphere with his stepson as they both recounted their troubles with an interested listener. Soon enough, Josef would follow in the footsteps of his stepfather, as school-based politics and government allowed for a new aspect of his personality to take up, and allow for the circumstances that lead to his military career to come about.
Act III
Rise
Ages 15-18
[/u][/center]Rise
Ages 15-18
As Josef began to exit puberty he'd already advanced to the last leg of the public education system, and initially managed to continue with his average lifestyle, having left sports for good after passing up the opportunity to play smashball and maintaining a basic academic status, he would've continued on with such were it not for the constant poking and prodding of Ventik, constantly pushing him to get into student government, though Josef opted to let a year of the stuff pass by with little more than an afterthought, though as he soon began to compare possible careers beyond his current situation in education, and as he looked to see what his stepfather did he could see immediately the benefits of a political career, both of monetary and influential value, and soon enough he began to give some serious thought to doing something with the Student Government, though he was lost as to just what.
Soon enough, after counsel with both Ventik, who could speak from personal experience, and Simo, who(despite his lack of knowledge) often could be the voice of logic and common sense in many a situation, Josef decided to enter into the school-wide races for the position of Vice Magistrate of the Sophomore student body, and as he entered it seemed that he'd pulled the short end of the stick, his two opponents, one a male of much academic repute, and the other a female of quite the attractive and promiscuous variety, held a vast majority of the polls by the time Josef had entered himself into the race. Though for what he lacked in popularity, Josef could boast two points to his name that the others could not; the first being a source of practical knowledge, Ventik, and the second being passion, a passion to earn the title of Vice Magistrate, even though the position was, in all reality, hollow. As he took in the situation over a brief period of days, Josef figured that it would be best to speak with his father for the best way to go about attaining victory in such a scenario, and Ventik, as most fathers would, attempted to instill a desire for proper work in his son, telling him that hard work and an honest campaign would surely bring him victory. Unfortunately for Ventik, Josef was no fool, especially after so many nights conversing with his surrogate father, an honest campaign would bring Josef little to nothing, if not sympathy for his loss. He needed to take the race to the next level, to a point that his opponents could not.
Simply put, he needed to play dirty. No holds barred.
Starting early with his slander, he already set about making good with his relations with the intellectuals of the community, a few of those who, despite their automatic inclination towards his more intelligent opponent, were quite eager to help damage the reputation of the female, Avlin Selvanno, though it required a bit more than a quick tongue to manipulate the wills of the intelligentsia and keep them from providing whatever dirt they could dig up on Avlin to his other opponent, Sogan Visputin. A few credits here and there proved to be quite sufficient to their tastes, the simple bias of wishing to see one of their own in office being dispelled at the thought of ample income. Though it would take some time, his newfound assets were true to their word, providing slanderous material of the most delightful sort in politics; a sextape. A sort of WMD in the political arena, Josef would attain such material only two weeks before the final election, and, in his inexperience, would utilize it immediately, though much to his good fortune he was dealing with individuals of a caliber greatly lacking in comparison to his own.
Soon enough, after sapping the populace of both of the opposing factions' voter bases, Josef still found himself at a loss for a majority in the polls, with roughly a week to go before the final vote, the earlier-attained sextape finally came to light in the way which Josef had desired; not only had he raised funds from the student body by selling the video on campus, but the administration caught wind of it and eventually wound up with a copy of their own. Needless to say, they were neither entertained nor aroused, and Avlin was called to the office for a very long while thereafter, leaving Josef to worry and constantly wonder if he'd covered his tracks well enough, though he'd suffer much less of a humiliating fate than Avlin and he wouldn't have to worry about being forced out of the race, though he'd never have to worry about such, the administration being much more concerned with dealing with the more scandalous situation present with Avlin than deal with the distribution of such material about the school.
Before he knew it, the much more dangerous opponent had already been dealt with, leaving only the more effective Sogan to contest the election, and preferring rather to attain victory by chance than by brute force, he politely declined his good friend Simo's suggestion to rough up some friends of Sogan's. Such an action would've been too obvious, easy to analyze even by Simo, and so Josef opted to simply wait and see how things would turn out, having prepared quite the speech for the occasion... only to discover at the time of the speech that he’d left the manuscript at his home early in the morning, not thinking of it in the rush to get to school. Though he found himself at a disadvantage against a well-prepared opponent, he managed to turn the tables upon him, bringing the sore issue of the prior year’s humiliating smashball defeat, and riding off of the distaste for the ones who’d brought about such shame to his school, Marcen Oray Central High, both in the upperclassmen ranks and those from other locales, and easily managed to overpower the stale, prepared speech delivered by the limp Sogan, and soon left it up to the sophomore class to decide the outcome of the election.
Managing to attain the office in a close election of a roughly 65-35 vote, Josef was quite pleased with himself, despite the monotony of his time in office; it was a victory that would make him an icon. An icon always seen, unlike the Class Magistrate, at almost every smashball game without fault, save for once when Josef had come down with a stomach virus, whilst the Chief Magistrate was off pursuing matters that, according to her, ‘actually meant something.’ Now, Josef didn’t disagree with her, much to the contrary, she went about doing things that could, at the least, be described as necessary, though he could recognize what got people elected, and what could allow for them to be reelected, for to Josef the time spent it office wasn’t just a way to please his father, but a possible way into one of the many Universities that dotted Aldera, and as such, he regarded attaining offices of the most import with a cut-throat attitude. Soon, as the smashball season came to an end, with his rickety campaign promise of a homecoming victory having been secured, and with more games won than lost, it seemed that Josef was set up for a re-run his Junior year, perhaps falling into the monotony of taking the position every year... though something about that didn't suit Josef, such wasn't his 'style' persay, what was his style was attaining bigger and better achievements, becoming not just, 'that guy', but becoming 'Josef, Class Magistrate', he wanted to become the face of MOH, he wanted to be, in a sense, remembered. Of course, such was all means to an end, that end being post-secondary education, quite ironic that such methods would breed the destruction of such dreams.
Running his Junior year for the position of Class Magistrate, only one dared oppose him, a smashball player who was fairly new to the school, only a couple of months, and had not yet discovered the connection between the Team Captain, Simo, and his opponent Josef. Needless to say, he soon pulled out of the race at the polite request of Simo, and though he was without an opponent, Josef still put forth his best effort, appearing publicly whenever he could, and preparing quite the speech-which he did remember this time-for the election day, and obviously, he won, but more important than his given victory would've been the connections, like who he believed to be his father, he made, the actual support he sowed the seeds for next year, when the opposition might not be so easily disposed of. Still, the next year proved a bit more fruitful in terms of Smashball victories, the valuable and popular base for which Josef always revolved his campaign around, via competition with the other schools hoping to prove, not only to the opponents, but to his fellow classmates that MOH was the best of the best. Always did he insist on speaking at the games, and on the intercom every week at school, alleviating the boredom caused with normal announcements with a much more down-to-earth tone and attitude, all the while trying to maintain what he thought a proper image. In all reality, he was kept in office by simple indifference and smashball wins, though he never realized such. Soon enough, he began to become arrogant regarding his position, whilst not being the most popular individual in school, he was certainly not unpopular, and was considered part of the 'in' crowd, partially due to his close relationships with smashball, but also perhaps for his position as Magistrate.
Act IV
Fall
Ages 18-20
[/u][/center]Fall
Ages 18-20
Regardless, Josef was elected for a third term in the mock office in his Senior year, managing yet again to carry the day not only with the recurring promises of victory in the realm of smashball, but several others dealing in areas that were, in some cases, not his to make. Regardless, he, like many a good politician, made such wild affirmations when there'd be no repercussions for failing to meet them. One could say that this was the peak of Josef's early life, concentrating solely on entering a university after graduating from public education; filling out every scholarship he could find, participating in all the extra-curricular activities that his body would allow, and passing with a moderately satisfactory academic status. Soon enough he'd received notifications from several universities offering partial tuition, combined with both the money raised from scholarships and his family, Josef seemed poised to launch himself into the beginning of a career in politics at little to no cost to himself.
Such would be a happening that his family would regret for some time, and Josef too, though he soon found a new calling. As he entered into college life, one could say that Josef was set free, no longer were the strict rules of the public education system weighing on him, no longer was he required to abide by his parents rules, but possibly the most important of all was likely the factor that no one was watching, though it took him some time to come to this realization. Sent off with the blessings of his family, and with the pride of his father, Josef, at first, stood true to his word, keeping both his grades and goals high, though as the first year began to come to a close it soon became obvious that all work and no play makes Josef a very dull boy, and soon enough some of the more seedier elements of the Aldera night life began to take root in him.
At first it was fairly innocent, Josef began to go to the club with his friends on a regular basis, blowing off the steam of the day, and having a few rounds. Eventually the trips began to become more frequent, with the group enjoying more than just the music and drink, several even delving into the use of spice; Josef among them. Luckily enough for his long term health, it was ryll, though it was still addictive enough to take one inexperienced with mind-altering by surprise, and Josef soon became obsessed with the stuff. He began, over the next year or so, to pay less attention to his school work, less to his long term goal of paternal emulation, and more towards simply floating in the euphoria of the spice. Needless to say, those who had provided Josef with the money required for his education were watching him, and at first they paid little heed to his nightly exploits, but they did give note to the steady decrease in the quality of both his grades and physical appearance, and as his grades managed to drop below the terminal point for the year, his university dropped their financing for the next year. Such was too much of a blow to his situation, for without the substantial bolstering of his funding distributed by the university he simply couldn't afford to attend. As he deliberated on just how to deal with the situation, conversing largely with Ventik, his substance abuse came to light by the work of his stepsister, Lea, who offered to help clean out his dorm room as things were worked out.
Needless to say, Ventik, being a man of some import in the Republic government on Alderaan, was none too pleased. It was scandalous, so much so that he dropped the issue immediately, no public denial, nothing, he simply refused to acknowledge Josef from that point on, preferring rather to act with him through the proxy of Lea, who immediately, out of concern for his health, suggested rehabilitation. Josef's first act though, was to resign from the university, ceasing to attend classing, failing to attain a minor degree in political science. Soon he set about following his sister's advice, attending rehabilitation whilst finding a home in a men's hostel, and lived on a rice and beans budget, earning enough to barely cover the cost of living. Soon enough, though, his fortunes would take a turn for the better as he finally finished with rehab, his addiction having been broken for a good month or two by the time of the arrival of Davidi Boelk.
Act V
Boelk
Age 21
[/u][/center]Boelk
Age 21
There are certain names that people never forget: their first love, their best friend, their children. For Josef, one of those would have to be Lieutenant Boelk, a man of admirable quality, but more importantly he is remembered, by Josef at least, as the man who saved his life. When Josef left rehabilitation, he had nothing: no family, no wealth, no belongings save for the clothes on his back. He truly had nothing to live for, until one fateful day in the hostel as Josef lay dozing on his cot, not on the current shift earning their keep to stay at the hostel, he'd barely noticed the slim built man enter with the flanking escort of two enlisted men. It was a relatively new practice that'd been instituted on a planetary basis only, usually being passed on the more passive works of the republic before others, and the concept was quite simple; take the second worst that society had to offer, short of convicts, and press them into service. Often times the concept caught on with planets where the general populace preferred civilian life to that of martial service, and such was the case with Alderaan. Whatever the case, with the rising dissent on multiple fronts, most importantly from the Mandalorians, the Republic needed all the warm bodies it could muster.
Quickly enough few paid the Lieutenant little heed, and such got to him as much as it would to any of us, boredom setting in quickly as his allocated task was blown off as little more than propaganda; a great many of the inhabitants having been left with little taste for the Republic, as was Josef, though a snide remark or two had caused Josef, despite his horrid state, to take offense. Josef being who he had been, losing face was not something that went over well with him, and he couldn't let such remarks go without rebuttal. Let it be sufficed that the two exchanged words, with the eventual culmination of Boelk wagering fifty credits that Josef hadn't the balls to enlist. Leaving him where he was, Boelk left him only with a card detailing the locale of the recruiting office, and stormed out, understandably upset.
Davidi could issue a challenge well, and as such Josef found himself evading mop duty back at the hostel by making a short trip to the recruiting office, and meeting Lt. Boelk on the other side of a desk, greasy hair about his shoulders while clad in clothing that seemed to haven't been washed in days, he signed his papers with a smug look on his face, believing he'd gotten the final word in. Little did he know that it was really Boelk's turn to look smug, for not only did he get one body closer on his quota, but he possibly kicked a street urchin's ass by the proxy of basic training, and so with an oath and several small pieces of free RA memorabilia, Josef was given a couple of days to himself before becoming property of the Republic.
Act VI
Jast
Ages 21-23
[/u][/center]Jast
Ages 21-23
Camp Jast didn't exist for the longest time, at least not in any permanence, until Josef had enlisted in the Republican Army. That's not to say that it came about chiefly because of his service, but his regiment played a vital role in building it. Arriving a week after enlisting, two of those days having been used as final leave, Josef found himself on the subarctic tundra after being jostled across most of the planet via shuttle, outside a tent town identified only as Camp Dann Jast. Expecting a bit more from the Republican military, Josef was initially unimpressed with the place, preferring instead the thought of a military facility of a size to rival Aldera, though his attention was soon diverted to much more personal matters as both he and the rest of the other passengers on the shuttle, most of them street trash like himself, were herded into three separate lines and sent into a tent large enough to house three starfighters, and from what he could see over the shoulders of the other men was just that; there were only men, not hide nor hair of a single female could be seen, of any species, though the plethora of races that stood before him traced their heritage from the crags of Sullust to far-away Duros, even a few gran stood here and there, and ever present were the humans, though they all shared the common characteristic of being humanoids. Still, all of them underwent the same process: stripping down, delousing, shaving and measuring.
Josef initially had some issue with stripping bare, considering the exterior temperature was lower than he’d ever experienced before in his life, though he soon got over the initial hesitation and removed the ragged clothing, revealing a frame that would've made his family blush in embarrassment; weighing in at only one hundred and seventy pounds, Josef seemed almost a shadow of his former self, though as one of the instructor-corporals soon informed him, 'We'll beef you up, no time.' After stripping down, everyone was sent through several gates that, as Josef learned about at a later time, were basically projecting radiation in a small area. Though he knew at the time that there was something about them from the way one of the instructors spoke of them, in particular the use of the word if; 'Just delousing, you should be fine if you run through it fast enough.' After such was said and done came the grooming, which was quite rough and almost reserved solely for humans, though Josef did as he was told and thanked the barber for the free cut thereafter, he had to admit he neither cared for being shaved bald or how he'd jerked his hair whilst cutting. Continuing on to the measuring station, particularly that for humans, he was soon confronted with several measuring tapes and before he knew it he was finished, the men who'd done such reporting back to a group of seated individuals who, after asking name, entered the data they'd collected into one of their datapads. Handing him a card which bore only his name and a number, they rushed him off, away from the area needed for further recruits, and quickly he found himself staring through a flap-door into the bleak exterior, a tent across a gravel road being the destination that he and several other recruits were headed to. Hesitating for a moment or two before charging out into the cold, Josef followed the example of a duros, Mandros Kastor, who saw it prudent to just go ahead and get it over with. Finding after his arrival the old saying that 'In RepMil there are three sizes when it comes to uniforms: too big, too small, and just don't fit.'
Being sent off with most of the rest of those who'd gotten their gear at about the same time as Josef to a tent on the other side of camp, having only had time to don his fatigues and boots before being forced to cram all the rest into a duffel and strap it over his shoulders as they were ushered out. Failing to arrive far ahead enough in the line to gain a cot to his fancy, he was forced to take one of the ones near the entrance; a locale subject often to bone-chilling breezes. Accompanied by a Corporal, they were instructed after arrival to stow their belongings into the trunk under their cot, though they barely had time to breath after doing such before being ordered outside, forming up as ordered in some resemblance of a proper formation. The group was anything but uniform, with untucked laces, askew tunics, and many a worse violation, though as they stood they were reviewed by the corporal, who did his best to improve the image of the platoon before the Colonel arrived to address the regiment that had just been mustered, giving the men some basic instruction on how to stand at attention and at ease, such things that Josef took note of quickly, preferring to keep as much face as possible.
Soon enough the colonel, a man by the name of Aldin Gregor, was present, dressed in fatigues not unlike their own, though he bore both the insignia of rank and unit; such items Josef and his comrades lacked. Informing the assembled companies that they were now all part of the 127th Alderaanian Training Regiment now, and that they, like the four other regiments currently stationed at (what would become) Camp Jast, were training to become the best that the Army of the Republic had to offer; Airborne Infantry, or at least, that's what the Colonel said. Such was a common thought among most of the Airborne ranks, that the Airborne were the best honest men and women that the Republic had to offer, outside of the Special Forces and the like. Of course, the Airborne basically was the infantry when one began to think on it, considering that a vast majority of the ground pounders nowadays tended to be deployed from dropships, though there still was straight leg and the like, mechanized, motorized, etc, though the latter usually tended to be planetary militia as opposed to professional soldiers. The Colonel went on to inform them that 5,000 men had signed their papers to enlist with the RepMil, and he expected over 40% of those gathered here to watch to wash out before the twelve month training period was done.
Needless to say, it put Josef's mind at ease to know that his CO had such confidence in his men, though it did show that he was no fool. Colonel Gregor was not a man to be trifled with, and his NCOs made such known to the general populace, who after being addressed were ordered back to their tents and were given the all clear for the night, though halfway through they found themselves up again, this time being introduced to the company drill instructor; Rogol Bulthner, a short, wiry man with dark skin. After pleasantries were exchanged, mostly insults aimed at the quality(or lack thereof) in the platoon, the group soon found themselves setting into the daily regimen of physical training that would become commonplace for the next year, though the pain was only amplified for most as one troop muttered that he was cold. Needless to say, Drill Instructor overheard, and made sure that everyone got an extra coat of sweat on their brow that morning, and he made sure of such, checking every man's brow with his index finger; those who hadn't paid DI Bulthner their keep were forced another mile until they'd performed to his pleasure.
So began Josef's first day of basic, and so went the first day of his new life. The intense physical needs imposed on the Regiment pushed him to his limits, though his body soon adjusted to the lifestyle; the high protein/nutrient diet the mess put them on helping considerably. Each of the men soon attained a moniker, Josef's turning out to be 'Professor' or just 'Pro', considering that he was the only man out of his company to have attended university, though it could've also been attributed to his, at times, poorly planned actions. Biggest trouble for Josef was running, considering his lack of speed when it came to such, and though he was suited for the endurance events, especially "Ten lil' Mandos", he still greatly preferred straight up push-ups or sit-ups, his body beginning to reclaim some of its lost ground from before his spice addiction and subsequent starvation. Though, when it came to PT, one running cadence appealed to Josef in particular, perhaps due to his almost ever-present state of hunger(which, unknown to Josef, was present with every one of the recruits):
Up in the morning right be ‘fore dawn,
Roll out of bed and put my jump boots on,
Eat my breakfast too damn soon,
Hungry as a hound dog by noon,
Went to the mess hall on my knees,
"Mess Sergeant, Mess Sergeant feed me please!",
Mess Sergeant said witha big ol'grin,
"If you wanna stay 'live, boy, you gotta stay thin!"
Roll out of bed and put my jump boots on,
Eat my breakfast too damn soon,
Hungry as a hound dog by noon,
Went to the mess hall on my knees,
"Mess Sergeant, Mess Sergeant feed me please!",
Mess Sergeant said witha big ol'grin,
"If you wanna stay 'live, boy, you gotta stay thin!"
Like almost every one of the men present, Josef could down two full trays of food and then some, and soon developed quite the taste for caffeine. There were many ways to blow off steam during basic, and such was necessary, from simple pleasures like pazaak to jawing about home, though, even by the end of the first week of training, most of the men felt so far behind on sleep that whenever they got a spare moment, such was their first choice when it came to recreation, and never once was a man disrespected for denying anything from a game of pazaak to sneaking in booze in favor of catching a few z's. In point of fact, most of the troops managed to find ways to sleep whenever possible, going so far as to do such in formation, at attention. Of course, such wasn't terribly logical considering the risk that one runs in favor of the reward, though several did such anyway, including Josef, who on one particular day, dozed off at just the wrong moment: DI Bulthner was giving a general lecture on the application of first aid as well as its importance, and Josef's eyes closed for just a few seconds too long, long enough for DI to sniff him out, and publicly get him. Pressed forward in front of many of his comrades, Josef not only learned to apply a bandage that day, but also discovered that, lucky him, he was assigned 'medic' for third squad, carrying one extra medpac than was required, and was required to use one fourth of his two hour afternoon rest period(thirty minutes) to dedicate to medical studies for at least three days out of every week. Thrilled, Josef went about doing such, though he soon began to excel in achieving his set task, as he was with physical training, and feeling quite positive with himself, he went on with a slight feeling of optimism as he continued with his training, feeling a sense of belonging sorely lacking since he'd left MOH, a sense that he was needed.
Roughly two months after basic had started in earnest, the men of the 127th Regiment were issued their most prized possession; the M25 blaster rifle, the object that gave them meaning. Oddly enough, though, the first thing that they were taught with the M25, instead of taking the men and showing them how to use such; they taught them first how to take it away. Abiding strictly by the creed of 'Never give a man a weapon until he knows how to take it.' the Colonel insisted that the men learn such, and so they did, some to great effect, others, like Josef, not so great, but still most were given an idea on how to disarm an armed opponent. They found themselves soon after on the range, where Bulthner taught them for many a day both how to shoot and strip their '25, and after hitting the range by squad, Bulthner was quite pleased to discover that the best of the worst, Josef, got the most hits at 80 meters out of his company; two, and even then only in the right shoulder. Soon though the DI paid more and more attention to Josef, watching as the talent for ranged weapons began to slowly develop into a skill, and soon found himself encouraging Josef to take the proficiency test.
One wouldn't have had to let a DI tell them twice to take such a test in any field, considering the requirements needed to pass such a test, and the hefty cash stipend offered for making good marks on it. (Now, being a beam weapon, a blaster isn't a terribly hard weapon to master, though the tests took what might already be challenging and make it nigh-oppressive.) Almost immediately Josef began to plot on just how he'd make it, though with a word of friendly criticism or two from his comrades he began to rethink his strategy, opting instead to devote even more of his free time to work, not only first aid but also marksman practice, heading out to the range with his '25 and learning her ins-and-outs, the little quirks that each individual weapon has, and also learned a bit about himself when it came to firing the thing, most importantly grasping the ever-elusive 'squeeze' of the trigger. After a month or two of practice, he finally felt confident enough in his skills and he proceeded to take the course, which was much more rigorous than he'd anticipated. After a few days of sweating it out he received news that forced him to swallow his heart; he passed at the very edge of requirements, meeting the very limit of misses allowed in the test in order to gain both a stipend and the silver clasp.
It was around this time that construction of Camp Jast began in full, providing the men of the 127th with both physical training and basic construction skills being introduced to the men, though soon enough after being issued their armor, training began to shift to focus on such items. By this time the washouts had already been filtered from the actual material, Josef among them, and it's been said that 'Once one gets their armor, that if they keep a level head, they're in like flint.' Such was the case with Josef, who stayed on for quite some time, constantly training as they had for the next couple of months, finally completing many of the permanent structures around Jast, most important being the many barracks around the camp, though the 127th would only have a couple of weeks to enjoy the new luxury.
Act VII
War
[/u]23-Present[/center]War
So Josef went on with his life at Camp Jast, until one fateful day about two weeks after his twenty fourth birthday, as the horrifying news of assassination reached the ears of the 127th. With the Supreme Chancellor dead, the stage was set for demoralization as the further blows of the lightning attacks on the Outer Rim by both the newly proclaimed Sith Empire and the resurrected Mandalorian Crusade. Josef hadn't really planned to go into outright combat, though he had taken an oath, an oath that bound him to the Republic. He really had nothing to lose, which made it somewhat baffling as to just why he would fear dying so much, but perhaps it was the time he'd put into his training, the effort and countless days that he'd spent jogging, building, shooting, sprinting, and who knows what else all to earn some basic boards, which came sooner than expected with the declaration of war against the Sith Empire, the 127th soon being dissolved into companies prepared to reinforce those divisions hit hardest by the recent assaults. Josef's particular company being sent into reserve, ready to be deployed to either front if need be. Opting to spend the three days of leave granted to the men back at camp, Josef attempted to bring some sort of closure to his relationship to the place.
Josef spent the last night of his time at Camp Dann Jast sitting on the rifle range, though cold, he felt connected to the place more than he had anywhere else. Soon joining him was Bulthner, and the two spoke on all manner of topics long into the night, though soon Josef asked just who Dann Jast was, and with a smile on his face, Bulthner replied, 'Come back and find out.'
Shipping out the next day, some friendly faces occupying the vessel, Josef found himself going offworld for the first time in his life, speeding to some destination or another in the galaxy, all of it information that legs don't need to know, and so Josef begins his military career; a fresh trooper, ready to make good on his promise to Lt. Boelk.
Password: Bylgia
RP Sample:
Can you be - like me?
Airborne - infantry?
Airborne - infantry?
The words still rung out in his head, the lack of drill aboard the vessel finally getting to him, the old cadence was one that always tended to either start or end the PT run, though Josef had to admit, he was happy to be rid of the 0400 formation, it still just didn't feel right to not be jogging to the beat, with the DI keeping a keen ear to listen for mistakes. Sighing where he sat, Josef could find little entertainment aboard the ship, always managing to return to his datapad to see if he'd any new messages. The bunks were a bit softer than those back at Camp Jast, but such was to be expected from the Navy, considering that they were, after all, the Navy. Stooped over slightly, his fatigues creasing as he did such, Josef waited for the thing to power up, as it did he kept time by tapping the heels of his boots on the metal floor, singing some cadence or another mentally. Eventually the small device managed to boot up, and Josef eagerly checked his mail, but to no avail, not another message from either Lea or Otto. It was odd, how he regarded Otto, considering that he barely knew the boy, almost like a son, though he was only four, only having seen him twice before melting down with the whole spice business.
Still, he was quite the boy, much like his mother, though she'd found some bigwig or another to sire him, and such wasn't a problem. Probably quite good for the boy, considering the money that awaited him later in life. Lea'll bring him up right. Keep him straighter than me, hopefully. Thinking on the matter, he'd barely noticed as the door to the cramped compartment had opened, a duros having come through, and without warning tossed a small plasteel case at Josef, managing to hit him in the right temple before he took note. With an indignant look, Josef turned to see the duros' face split in a smile, one that Josef soon returned as soon as he recognized his bunkmate, Mardos Kastor, one of the few members of the 127th that Josef still saw on a daily basis, much of the rest having been broken up and sent to reinforce other units, taking the place of recent casualties across the systems. The thought troubled Josef, to take the place of someone who was so known in their circles, and in a sense 'become' them. Still, the small case had caught his attention, and after putting aside his datapad he stooped to pick it up from where it had landed on the floor, asking, "Whatd'ya know, Mardos?"
Moving over to the bunk opposite from Josef's Mardos shook his head, smile still present, "Same ol', same ol'..." trailing off in a sigh as he lowered himself to the level of the bunk, the duros' tall frame forcing him to have to lean at an angle in order to fit under the bunk above, though he soon found a comfortable spot, returning the question, "You?"
Shrugging for a moment as he fiddled idly with the small container, resembling something of a soap dish, Josef pondered just how to answer, though he settled on the simple response of, "Could be better." Finally managing to crack the thing open, he looked to Mardos as he caught a glimpse of the contents, "I didn't know you played." The smile beginning to retreat, giving gradual way to a smirk, he offered the suggestion,
"Thought I might learn a bit, help pass the time." Nodding as he turned his gaze back to the pazaak deck that Mandros had acquired, taking out some of the cards, flipping through the deck, which could easily be described as meager,
"How much did it run?"
"Hundred and twenty."
"Bit high, don'tchya think?" Josef looked to the duros, whose eyelids began to sink slowly, the delayed reaction telling Josef just what his plans were,
"A bit. I got the cash to waste though." Nodding in response, Josef slipped the deck back into its container, he looked back to Mandros, holding the deck up to see before tossing it to him, Mandros managing a catch. Rubbing his eyes, Mandros soon spoke, "Eh, thinking I'm gonna hit it for toni-er... well, whatever time it is, prolly time I hit the sack."
"I hear you, troop." Standing slowly, stretching as he did, "I'm gonna go for a run, if you don't mind." Shaking his head as he moved to a more horizontal position, the duros waving him off idly as he did so, offering a parting word,
"One mile, no sweat." Smirking as he left, Josef could almost hear Bulthner speak the words,
Two miles, better yet...
---
Edit: Well alright, finally looks like this thing is wrapped up, though I have to admit I'm not very pleased with my job on the bio, I'll let it stand. Advice, criticism, and the like is more than welcome from all parties. It probably wont read well, Josef underwent several changes while I was messing with him, so the final product might be a bit... funky, for lack of a better term.
More than happy to fix him up, and it seems that I'm ready for review, so let 'er rip!
Edit Log:
9/1/10 - Fix'd some grammar mistakes, mod'd the stats to be a bit more realistic, and tacked a bit more onto the moniker explanation.
