Physical Appearance

Native Language: Basic
Hair Color: Dark brown
Eye Color: Dark brown
Skin Color: Caucasian
Height: 5"10
Weight: 180 kilograms
Age: 32
Full Name: Kraytirous Shalluat
Physical Build: Light, muscular build
Homeworld: Kuan, Taroon System

Biography: Born in Kuan to Arin and Cynthia Shalluat, into a middle-class family, Kraytirous grew up as a mostly normal child with mostly normal life experiences. At the age of 10 he learned of his parents old lives, as smugglers. Apparently, his father had been a smuggler and his mother had been a Correllian Security Officer. She had arrested him on an attempt to smuggle contraband into Correllia, but instead she ended up getting charmed by him and running off with him. The two eventually settled down on Kuan, and began a family. Kraytirous learned of his parents facade when they suddenly began to pack their belongings and took leave, leaving him with a family friend. The friend explained that his parents had gotten themselves a bounty on their heads and that a bounty hunter had come to claim it. The friend had adopted Kraytirous officially after his parents' deaths had been made official.

After several years, Kraytirous grew into a fit young man, excelling in the art of combat and stealth. At the age of 18, his adopted father taught him how to properly use and shoot a standard sniper rifle. At the age of 20, Kraytirous already having passed the novice level at being a marksman and decided to apply to join the Empire. He despised his original parents for allowing themselves to become such wanted criminals. He wanted to get back at all of the sithspawn that did something so stupid.

Personality:
Kraytirous is an extremely social person, liking to talk with someone any chance he can get. He does know when to shut up (occasionally) but his talkative mouth does get him into a decent amount of trouble. He is also a gloating sort of person, enjoying a good taunting after he makes a kill that he thinks is actually a feat. He does tend to get on peoples nerves. But when something happens to sober up Kraytirous such as the sight of a gruesome death, injury or something along those lines, he will shut up and get down to the job at hand.

Talents/Skills
-Sniping Speciality
-Decent at walking stealthily
-Excellent hand-eye coordination
-Has decent close-combat capabilities with; Vibroblades, small knives and hand-to-hand.
-Has learned to use a rocket launcher

OOC:

Just thought I'd first of all remove the Mandalorian aspect, and second of all add some of the basic cockyness that comes from a boy that had been constantly congratulated for his accomplishments. I'm hoping that these emotional flaws will also be seen as relevant on the battlefield when it comes to underestimating the enemy and assessing a situation. And I'll also switch over to the Third Person. And I was talking about the culture, not the race. The race has obviously been gone since before even the first Star Wars episode.

Sounds awesome. And I really appreciate that you didn't go out of your way to package your criticism in pretty wrapping paper. You got straight to the point and told it as it is. Really helps developing something along. Thank you. And will I be getting a link to it or a pm as to where it is starting or..?

lol, I believe in being a straight forward gal Kray
You just complimented me


Anyhow, Kray I failed to say, you just need to check in writing out your numbers, its a writing formality more than anything else though it does look good. Your grammar and whatnot is good to go as well.

OOC:

At long last!!!

Full Name: Koll Anbar

Physical Appearance:
Koll’s appearance could best be described as unassuming. Standing at a mere five-foot ten, and 165 pounds, he does not attract much attention to himself, which suits him just fine. He bears on his face the typical tattoos of his native homeworld, comprised of five lines starting at the eyes and running down to the cheekbones, where they then turn sharply and head back toward the ear, and then curve back down the jaw line, meeting at the chin. His horns take prominence, standing near the front of his hairline, acting as something of a barrier to his hair coming forward. They stand in a V formation; one stands in the very middle of his hairline, with two other horns on either side, but set farther back. His brown hair is long, reaching down to the center of his back, and rests on his head like a mop, covering both his ears but coming no farther forward.

Native Language: Zabraki
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Yellow
Skin Color: Tan
Height: 5’ 10”
Weight: 165 lbs.
Age: 20
Physical Build: Athletic

Personality:
Koll is more of a self-effacing person, contrary to the rest of his kinsmen. Koll spent his entire life hearing about the accomplishments of others that it drove him nearly insane, and thereby vowed never to inflict such annoyances on anyone else. As a result, he always downplays every one of his biggest accomplishments, even if he was the first in his class to master a difficult martial arts movement or made the best sculpture in Art. He typically likes to remain unseen, just another face in a crowd and follow the mainstream. This allows him to easily analyze people, their movements, and other various things, without having to be analyzed himself. When the time calls for it, however, he rises to the occasion, using his agile mind to circumvent puzzles or his quick movements to outpace an aggressor. Rarely will he allow himself to be beaten, but will not lord such a victory over the person he defeats. He does, however, have a ferocious temper that can be excited easily. For example, if he loses a competition of some sort, and the victor will not leave him alone about how he lost, Koll will get very angry, near to the point where he will draw a weapon on someone. This temper also arises when someone belittles his accomplishments. To him, that is the largest insult, even if he himself belittles the victory.

Homeworld: Iridonia

Talents/Skills
As a Zabrak native of Iridonia, Koll has learned to be quite proficient in close-quarters combat techniques. His father also instructed him in the use of a vibroblade and vibroknife simultaneously, as well as how to shoot a pistol at someone. His mind has always been sharp and able to grasp concepts quickly and efficiently. This agility of the mind also allows him to recall information quickly and easily.

Flaws:
Koll, as most people do, has many flaws. First is his single-mindedness. Whenever he is at a job, he remains completely focused on the task and allows few things to interfere with his work. Typically, this would be considered a good thing, but this allows people to sneak up on him easily. Koll also has a spitfire temper which arises whenever someone belittles him in any way. This temper tends to become excessive, to the point where he would gladly challenge the belittler to a duel to the death. Fortunately, his friends have most always intervened before it got that far.

Biography:
Koll Anbar was born to Xel and Atrin Anbar on a day no more special than any other day. He was enrolled in the public school on Iridonia and lived out his school life as best as any Zabrak could. At the age of fifteen, he began his rite of passage. This ended ultimately in a martial arts match with some of his peers. Winning or losing the match would not determine whether or not the rite was completed, but rather was a display of how far Koll had come during the time, both in maturity and in combat, as he desired to be a part of the Imperial Army even then. The rite ended in a slightly unexpected manner, however.

“You psyched?” his father asked for the twentieth time. Koll had just about had enough. He had been training for months, even years for this point in his life. The rite of passage meant acceptance in the adult Zabraki world. He didn’t particularly want to stand out, and therefore really disliked the idea of fighting one of his classmates in front of a roomful of people, but his father had insisted upon it. His dad had a tendency to take Zabraki pride to ridiculous levels.

Koll snapped out of his tangent of thought quickly. He was behind a curtain, dressed in typical Zabrak martial arts garb, waiting for the “main attraction” to begin. His opponent was on the other side of the room, talking to his father. His name was Terr Derell and a fellow Zabrak completing his rite of passage. The two were speaking heatedly about something, resulting in the father walking over to the Anbars. “Your son better lose today, Anbar,” Terr’s father said angrily.

“There’s no way Koll’s going to lose to Terr!” His father was equally vehement. The two glared daggers at each other until the curtain began to open. Koll never got to tell his father what he felt about the day, but perhaps it was just as well. It was true that the large, bulky Terr stood no chance of beating the lean, agile Koll. It also didn’t help that Koll was the top in his martial arts class; worlds ahead of anything Terr would ever hope to accomplish. That didn’t keep Mr. Derell from wanting his son to win, however. Koll had wanted to throw the match anyway, just so he could remain in the back of the crowd. The Zabrak boy gave a start as the curtain snapped into its fully open position. He needed to focus, not keep himself in a reverie. He would lose, but lose gracefully, not by distraction.

The lights shone eagerly down upon the stage as the two combatants took the center. They bowed, shook hands, and separated themselves to either side of the stage. It was a small thing, the stage, as they lived in a small city on Iridonia. Practically the entire town came to see the conclusion of the rite of passage, which made the boy nervous. “Are you ready?” the judge said in annoyance. Koll jumped slightly, and then took an opening stance.

“Yes sir, sorry sir,” Koll said, focusing on the match.

“Begin!” The judge leapt out of the way of two combatants. Koll slowly came forward, analyzing his opponent’s movements. Terr was sloppy, his footwork was all wrong. Each step sent shudders through the metal stage, telegraphing where he stepped. On top of that, he was slow and lumbering, kind of like a bantha with a limp leg or two. Koll rolled his eyes; he couldn’t believe such a simile wandered through his head. Terr prepared a punch in the time it took Koll to blink twice. He dropped, spun to his opponent’s back, and placed a firm palm on his back, slamming him forward. Terr fell in a heap before Koll.

What is up with this guy? Koll thought, jumping over a leg sweep as Terr tried to get up. Koll then slammed his foot down on Terr’s chest, destroying all the latter’s hard work to rise up. Terr gave an angry glare and shoved himself up off the floor. He sent an uppercut directly into Koll’s stomach. He hits like a girl! Koll thought, almost physically laughing. He regained his stance and was soon on the offensive.

Koll finally tired of running circles around Terr. Sure, the other boy had stamina, but definitely not speed or power. Koll could clean a few floors with him and still have Terr wanting more punishment. The boy had no form, however. Every stance he took begged to be exploited, down to even how he held his hands. He telegraphed every move he made with either thunderous steps or a huge backswing. It was almost insulting to have to fight Terr. Koll finally made a decision, disliking how he had already shown off to the entire congregation of people there. Koll grabbed Terr’s fist and stepped into the other’s stance. “Terr, I have a proposition for you,” Koll began.

“Shut up, whelp,” Terr said, struggling to break Koll’s effortless grip.

“I’m going to let you win, if you want,” Koll continued, purposely oblivious to the insult. “I don’t want to win, so when I let go of your fist, throw me to the ground or something; I’ll stay down.” Terr gave a confused look. Koll let go of the other boy’s fist, which subsequently came crashing into Koll’s face. With a little flair, Koll launched himself backwards and stayed on the ground. The judge counted down, and Koll lost. As he got to his feet, he had a large smile on his face.

“I won!” Terr shouted after the match. “I can’t believe I beat the top student in the martial arts class! And it was so easy! How is he the top of the class? He can’t take a hit at all!” Terr reveled in the glory of his win. Unfortunately for him, Koll was within earshot.

“What did you say, whelp?” Koll said with a sharp edge on his tongue.

“I said you don’t deserve to be the top of the class anymore, shrimp. Now step aside before I hit you again.” Terr attempted to walk past Koll, but the boy didn’t allow it. Koll swept at Terr’s legs, sending him crashing to the ground. “Oh you’re going to pay for that,” Terr said, getting to his feet. Koll seethed. Apparently the lout forgot that Koll threw the match. His eyes narrowed. Terr wound up a punch much like he did before. Koll caught it, wrenched the fist to a side, landed a kick between Terr’s legs, punched him in the gut, let go of the fist, and upper-cut Terr’s chin. Terr went flying back and lay crumpled in a heap a foot back from where he was standing.

“I threw that match, idiot,” Koll said, spitting toward the unconscious body of his would-be aggressor. “Just remember that I’m not to be messed with, Terr, or you might not wake up from our next encounter.” Koll then set out with his nervous father to get his ceremonial facial tattoos.

Koll’s life since then has had similar occurrences dotted through it, but the mishap at the end of his rite of passage was the first and most prominent. At his son’s graduation, Koll’s father recounted the incident proudly, much to the distaste of the Derells and his own son. Koll would rather have had that incident be dead and buried, especially three years from its happening.

Right,
First of all, comments on posts are the following:
Kraym Daesha, both are good posts, and Kray thats exactly what we are looking for in posts.

Quillia, nice post, just a bit longer next time. Same to you Crowe, I'm going to start expecting 350-400 words per post you make.

The important thing about posting in a story is not to rehash events, and relive them through you're character's point of view, but rather to try and move the story along, advance plots. Rehashing is fine, but you must include advancing the mission briefing or story plot.

So in the next post you make I'd like to see you lot handling the Drill with limited guidance from me or Decembrist posting.

You can have the following scenarios if you your imagination is a bit dry:
Target practice
Introduction to melee combat

Quillia, you shouldn't have problem imagining Drill IC:P

I've another phase I'd like you to start here, this is more Army work then Drill Work, but I'd like to see you start looking at what you'd like to specialize in as a trooper of the Vast Empire.
This is our specialties available, please note you cannot opt for advanced specialties till you completed the basic  specialties.
http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Category:STCspecs

Right, so what do you do with it?
You write a two stories based on each level of the specialty you chose.
Where do you post it?
Here: http://comnet.imperialnetwork.com/comnet/58/

Please PM me, Darr-Rann, Riqimo and Rogueboy about your choice These stories will be to train your character while he's active in a squad.

Currently we are looking at incorporating old rules of you earning items from the store with each story you completed.
Has anyone visited the store, bank and etc yet?


Guys, I've got high hopes of engineering this generations of recruits into being a leading example of what every trooper should be, don't disappoint me.

You'll be receiving a PM from me shortly that will explain a few basic  things about how we operate in squads in the army.



Now, post on the story again, and take lead with it, respect one another's characters and research eachother, I do not condone the abuse of other characters, though I doubt I need to tell you that
Any questions?
Please dont hesitate to ask

Call Sign: Boa
Name: Tiros Ceboa
Home World: Jantii
Native language: Galactic Basic
Hair color: Blond
Eye color: Green
Skin color: Slightly tanned
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 146 Lbs.
Age: 18
Physical Build: Lean, thin

Talents/Skills: Jantii is a world steeped in technology. As such, Tiros is familiar with many forms of higher-level equipment and can easily manipulate most standard computer security systems. Tiros also possesses keen accuracy with a blaster, although even he admits that he does not know why.

Faults/Shortcomings: Because of his small size Tiros has a hard time in close combat, especially when dealing with larger alien species. He has considered taking a martial art to compensate for his lack of size and experience, but the idea simply doesn't interest him.

Physical Appearance: A small human, only six inches over five feet. He is thin and lean, but not particularly muscular. He is quite agile and fast when he needs to be, but he prefers to be lazy.

Personality: Tiros has often been described as hyper. He is constantly doing something with his hands or his mind, and his words often come out so fast they can barely be understood. He is incredibly social, and often immature. However, he does have an 'on' switch, a switch that can be manipulated only by those he trusts and respects, and even admires.

Early History: Tiros was born on Jantii, a mid-rim world along the Corellian Trade Spine. Jantii was originally settled as an Old Republic military outpost, some four thousand years ago. As time progressed, however, Jantii was found to be a rich source of minerals, especially Sonrinium, a superconducting ore used exclusively in high-yield micro computers. As the Sonrinium deposits began to be tapped more and more corporations moved to the planet. Now mining has all but ceased, the deposits depleted. Jantii remains, however, the Base of Operations for several of the Galaxy's largest electronic and technology producers, and is a hub for technology-based trading and research. Growing up on such a technically inclined planet obviously had its effect on Tiros: he loves to tinker with things. His personal Datapad sports multiple upgrades, his comlink is rumored to run twenty percent more efficient than the factory model, and he has even been known to build droids. During his time at the Academy Jantii was even suspected of tampering with his armor and weapons.

Tiros has attended on of the foremost technology and electronic schools in the Galaxy, the Pre'Sonde Academy. After completing two years there (during his 16th and 17th years of life) Tiros decided for a career change.

Joining the Vast Empire: Tiros was wandering the galaxy, building and repairing home computer systems for a living, when he ran across the first and last bad influence of his life. These men coerced Tiros into joining with them. Tiros, still young and naive, fell in with the foul crowd. Soon he found himself in trouble with the law for several counts of Hostile Electronic Manipulation, or as it is commonly called, 'hacking'. Given a choice between prison or a thousand hours of community service, Tiros chose neither. He escaped with the help of his droid and his technical skills. He then decided that it was time to leave Jantii. Choosing a transport, he actually bought a ticket, leaving nothing to chance, and left his homeworld behind. He soon found himself in the Expansion regions. There the Captain of the freighter dumped him off, much to Tiros' displeasure. With no food, no money, the clothes on his back, and only his droid for company, Tiros had little option. He enlisted with a Stormtrooper Corps Recruiter in the city of Arksworth, located on what he soon learned was the edge of Vast Empire Space.

Vast Empire Service History: Well, that has yet to be determined, doesn't it?

Or perhaps my character will annoy you all

Quote:I think you misunderstood my post... We're all fighting against each other, not droids. And they've given us new suits of armor so that we don't fry each other. Bulky, heavy suits of armor, to truly test our capabilities...

Well for one, that doesn't give enough stuff for us to break and mangle.  And who I think the instructors would add droids and other fun stuff to try to distract us from our targets.  Missions aren't just go in and blow stuff up...well...if you want to do it the easy way.  Besides if we're all against each other who will decide who wins.  No offense but all of us ted to be drama queens when it comes to fighting.

I dont generally care about what you lot introduce into this story, I'm glad to see the initiative steps both Kray and Daesha put in.

Kray, unfortunately, not everyone would understand the meaning behind fair play when it comes to RPing their character, where you or I might have our characters admit defeat, other RPers would only write about being the best(and there was an incident in the past where one recruit killed another), I can assure you however Daesha is not one of those godmodding players, so feel free to fight her....and maybe you can be an example to the rest of Drill about how to play fair in a RP post.

I must warn you, Daesha can be a fickly person if you portray her character wrong, thats her only concern,now be nice children


PS: Kray, I'm glad to see that I don't need to explain godmod and fair-posting RP to you Keep up the good work,

== Physical Appearance ==

Native Language: Galactic Basic
Hair Colorirty Blonde
Eye Color:Black- This is due to a radiation leak on his Adopted Fathers farm, killing the other four farmers with him. Bosna was the only one to survive.
Skin Color:White
Height:6'6
Weight:183 LBS
Age:23
Character's Full Name: Jaq "Smuggler" Bosnia.
Physical Build:Strong, tall, tought.
Homeworld:Nal Hutta

== Info ==

Joq Bosna - Born on Nal Hutta to a low life smuggler and dancer. When Bosna was six his father was killed in a speeder 'accident' on Nal Hutta, and his mother was forced to raise Bosna alone.

Two months later she took her own life by jumping out of a Nal Hutta Skyscraper. After this tragic accident Bosna jumped onto a freighter heading for Dantooine. He was found by the Captain-Brion Bacredi-who later went on to give Bosna to a family friend-Jin A. Tunic-A Dantooine farmer and one of the wealthy landowners on Dantooine, Tunic was a relative of the Matale Family.

10 Years later Bosna and Tunic were out in the fields of Tunic's land. When twenty Mercenary Troopers appeared out of nowhere. Bosna, Tunic, and his ten bodyguards fought back against the Mercenary attacks. But this killed Tunic and most of his bodyguards, even though Bosna survived the skirmish. And he also had heir to the farm, and the 10,000 workers that worked for it.

A year later Bosna was an accomplished businessman, he had also learned to pilot Tunic's rarely used Delta-Seven Interceptor. And he had quite the prowess with speeders as well.

His medical droid-3-1A-taught Bosna everything he knew about Medical Equipment and Medical Surgeries. Therefore Bosna was an experienced medic, and vehicle crewman.

Cosmic. I made that mistake, I am already in the anvy Blue Leader and am asking Kad to change it

OOC:

Ok at last ive managed to scrap together a history, if anyone has some constructivecritisism i would love to hear it ( well read it)

Species: Human
Native Language: Galactic Basic
Hair Colour: Purple
Eye Colour: One green one yellow
Skin Colour: slightly tanned
Height: 5'10''
Weight: 140
Age:21
Full Name: Joe Irwin
Aliases: Joe
Physical Build: Average
Home world: Ord Mantell


Talents/Skills: Amazing marksman, but lacks any melee skills. Prefers to stay away from his target at all costs. Also is a known suffer of schizophrenia.

History: As a child he remembers very little of anything or anyone. He grew up and was usually left alone; he was never the brightest of kids but was very reliable and was usually chosen for important errands. He led a rather uneventful life and at the age of 18 decided to sign up for the STC for the adventure he had always dreamed of as a child. He also acts childish now and again especially when jealous or someone says something he dislikes. The one main interesting thing that happened in his life so far was one night when his home was raided and he was the only one there as he had no brothers or sisters and his parents were out. He heard them burst through the door and he sat there terrified. Within seconds he was knocked out and gagged and tied up. As the raiders began to go through his family’s possessions they picked up a pistol it was an incredibly old model but was in good working condition; this was the pistol Joe’s grandfather had given him on his 12th birthday. When the raiders started randomly shooting shots off all over the place Joe got mad, so mad that he burst out of his restraints  and slaughtered all of them. Later when questioned what happened he said he did not know and was knocked out the whole time