Rorran 'Slasher' Gorma walked down the alleyway, his slow gait and slightly stooped posture giving the impression that he was someone far past his prime. Anyone who thought that they would be able to make an easy mark of the Falleen would be surprised, although he had not had reason to draw and use them for several years he still carried a knife sheathed on his left thigh as well as the dual pistols, one on his right hip, and the other on his left set up for a cross draw. The heavy jacket he was wearing covering the obvious lumps from the two weapons.

As he approached the door to his apartment, he reached into his pocket and took out the key, something he was still getting used to having to carry after his long years of military service, however it had been more than two years since he had set foot on the deck of a Military Vessel, and he missed the hustle and bustle of being a military officer. He had vastly enjoyed his time with the Vast Empire, starting out his military career as a fighter jockey, flying the old TIE/ln in training, transitioning into a modified TIE Interceptor, and then eventually, earning the right to fly the TIE Avenger, a wonderful fighter, and one which he missed flying.

Entering his apartment he crossed to the closet in the entryway, taking off the cloak and hanging it in the closet, walking toward the kitchen he continued to think about his time in the Vast Empire, how he had been promoted to Chief Warrant Officer and then transitioned from being a Fighter pilot to being a Capital Ship officer, initially given command of the Light Cruiser Onyx he served on that vessel, the Imperial II Frigate Fearless and then eventually taking command of the VSD Dead Gun before eventually leaving service during a period of downsizing in the military and relative peace for the Vast Empire.

Taking his food from the heater he walks back to the small table in his office, sitting down he begins to eat, until he notices the blinking on the communications unit on his desk, indicating that someone is trying to contact him. he sets down his food, walking over the desk he hits the button to accept the call, a hologram materializing into the very familiar form of a wookie in an imperial uniform.

"Admiral, what a pleasant surprise, how can I help you?"

"[Slasher, it has been to long,]" says the wookie, giving him a rare smile, "[Due to events of late and the changing political and military climate I am calling to request that you reactivate your commission and return to us as soon as possible. We have need of your services.]"

"Of course Admiral," Slasher looks down at his clothes, "besides, these civis really don't work for me."

"[As soon as you return report to me for assignment, I expect your arrival within 4 days.]"

"I will depart at once."

"[Fly safely, I would prefer that you arrive in one piece instead of crash-landing somewhere this time. StOrMz Out]"

As soon as the hologram of the wookie fades away Rorran turns and heads immediately to the refresher, it is but the work of ten minutes to get himself military regulation, and he heads into his room, reaching for the duffel and the uniform hanging that he had never quite got around to putting into storage.

Ten minutes later a very different figure leaves the apartment, his back ramrod straight, his pace measured and fast. Everything about him, from the way he tucked his helmet under his arm to the way his flight suit was creased, screamed military. A military man, returning to the only home he had ever known.

OOC:

Word Count: 631 chops are a little rusty, but figured to give everyone just a brief overview of his military combat career, to say nothing of his administrative positions.