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GK-874's Profile Information
Callsign: GK-874  Send a message to GK-874
ComNet Rank: ComNet n00b
Avatar: GK-874
Division(s): VE - Engineering Corps
VE - Stormtrooper Corps
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Date Joined: September 29, 2007
Last Active: December 9, 2007 at 5:51:12 PM
Number of Posts: 19
ID Line: TRP/PFC GK-874/1SQD/1PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA
Biography: Opening...
(File: 00386383 Open)
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Physical Appearance
Language: Basic
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Blue
Skin Color: White
Height: 5’8”
Weight: 160 lbs
Age: 26
Full Name: Jeerota Sullivan
Physical Build: Muscular
Homeworld: Naboo

Background History

Over twenty-one years on the planet of Naboo, a male of only nineteen was grabbed and dragged against his will into a dark alley. The inner city of Theed was rather quiet that night, as not many city goers had been out at the time that this man was out and about. He had been coming back from his job at a local hotel on the planet, and was all alone. After being dragged into the dark alley on the usually busy city of Theed, he felt his blaster being ripped off his belt, right on the spot. Being brutally shoved to the ground soon followed, he tried to resist, however, a blade shoved at his throat said otherwise. A cloth was brought up against his face, chloroform...it sends anyone who breathes it's fumes into a deep sleep, and he was no exception.

He was helpless, and just as planned in his struggling, he eventually had to breathe and that was that. He fell limp and passed out. He wouldn't remember a thing of what had happened there that night. That night, that man, who to this day has evaded all law enforcement, and has still not been caught and convicted for his crimes...had brutally assaulted Jeerota Sullivan, stole his credits and left him for dead.

Theed morning...before the star light had risen above the horizon. He was tired...sore...beat...and defeated. It was four A.M., and he had had not a clue why he had awoken there in the dark alleyway between buildings. He sat up, wincing from the unexplained pain and looked around. Not a few feet away, his blaster lay, he stared in confusion for a moment and than reached for it putting it into its holster. Standing up hurt worse than sitting up, his legs ached, his lips stung, and most of all... his pride destroyed...what the hell happened to him?

He began to walk back to his father’s home, limping all the way, yet still acting like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. "Where have you been!?" His father greeted her with an interrogation. He lied. Telling him he had been up all night at the cantina, because he didn’t want his father to get suspicious. He had enough troubles to worry about, like his politics. He didn't want him to worry, and besides, he wasn't even sure of what happened himself...

Almost a month had passed, when yet another blow fell down upon him. Jeerota’s father was murdered! He was a Theed diplomat, which created a lot of enemies, and of course lead to his demise. He had been working on a plan to stop the spice trade, but time had run out, and he had paid with his life...and that was that. He mourned for him for days...why did he have to die? The only good of it, was that he'd never learn how his son was mugged...he would figure out what happened eventually, when signs would start to appear, it would all make sense.

It was not long after he finally stopped crying...when Jeerota had begun to feel bed sick, and he had gone to the local Theed medical facility. After running a few tests, the doctor had told him that he was a month into a life threatening illness. Jeerota had no idea how to explain the reasons he was infected. After a long and hard discussion with friends, and co-workers, seeing as his family was all dead of old age, or other mishaps, he decided to be treated. Despite the risks that were involved, such as death, it would have to be done or he risked death anyway. It never really occurred to him that, that night, and this illness had a connection. Any logical person would see it wouldn't they? But its harder to think logically when you're victim.

Thus, Jeerota was conceived. Going through a tough eight months of treatment, alone, but with the help of many true close friends, the illness had been cured. Jeerota had worked endless hours to gain his old physical appearance back, and after countless hours in the gym, he was back to normal. He was able to keep his job at that same hotel all the while, and for the first four years of recovery life, he had lead a good one. For the first time since that night, things seemed to be getting better.

Jeerota was twenty-four years of age, and on a planet with a booming economy. There was an estimate of 900,000 credits left in the money that Jeerota’s father had left for him, in light that if what had happened did actually happen, he would still be able to live a good life. However, he needed to get off of the planet of Naboo and take himself to a planet that was a little cheaper than Naboo. He then chose a place in the Hapes Cluster. He moved himself to the planet of Lorell, and was able to maintain an apartment, as well as a job.

Within about three years of living there, Jeerota had begun to drink, and drink a lot. The memories of the past were haunting him to this day...what happened to him...what happened to his father...what he didn't want to happen again. He could escape his worries, and sorrow in the bottles...yes the shiny bottles made everything go away.

He soon became an alcoholic and with one addiction, came another as the slope steeped into a ravine of self destruction. He was introduced to death sticks at a bar, and figured what the hell. Indeed, they made his life a living hell, so much that he was never happy when sober or not high. It was almost inevitable...that he would go too far. It was just a question of when. Jeerota was twenty-five galactic years when he was thrown into an imperial prison for the murder of a commoner. He had wandered the streets that night half drunk and high when the twi’lek asked him for some credits. One outburst lead to another and he eventually threw the twi’lek from a bridge.

Only 200,000 credits were left to Jeerota’s name after the fines he had to spend to push the incident under a rug, perhaps he wouldn't be a screw up the rest of his life...maybe he'd make something of himself...hopefully. Yet it seems, that if he is to live up to his father’s dreams for him, his hopes, and his eventual destiny, it is not this day. What does a young ignorant adult with a fist full of cred's do? He gambles...and he loses. The 200,000 was gone in a month...if not sooner. Now, broke, homeless, and alone, he's become nothing but a rag-tag drifter. That is until he stumbled into the Imperial recruitment center...
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Closing...
(File Terminated)
Signature:
StormTrooper Corps.
IronHorseSquad
TRP/PFC GK-874/1SQD/1PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA

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