From Ashes - Star Wars RP (Open!)

OI

I've been waiting for this to come back. Now, my time has come.

... also I promise to tone down a bit from the last time lol

So, is the setting and canonicity like the last one, where we just kind of did whatever was fun and threw Jedi and Sith and mixed a bit of new canon and Legends, or are you wanting to stick a bit closer to what's established in the lore?

I'm more or less going to bring back Retazyn, Reach, and Bal (after I rewrite him a little to something a bit more Imperial). I've came up with a few new Star Wars OCs since then, though!

Retazyn Q'tall // 33 lizard years // Male // Trandoshan // New Republic // Shock Troops, Special Operations Division

Physical Description -
Retazyn Q'tall is a 6'6", stockily built Dosha whose very appearance evokes a combination of nobility and savagery, with deep red eyes belying a deeper intelligence. This lizard typically wears a dark green piloting jumpsuit under a durasteel breastplate, preferring mobility and his own natural resistance to protect himself, and is seldom ever seen unarmed. His scales have a rusty-red complexion, with short horns that curve inwards.

Equipment -
A sabre-like vibrosword, an absolutely indeterminate amount of knives, and a DLT-19x targeting rifle are his usual mainstays

Brief Personality -
Retazyn is a determinator and a cunning hunter. During the war, he was previously driven by a vengeance that left him likened to a bloodthirsty hunter seeking the deaths of as many Imperials as possible. However, this part of his personality was gradually tempered towards the end of the war, replaced somewhat by a soldier's wisdom and a burgeoning sense of duty and justice. Nevertheless, seeing an Imperial is surefire way to test his restraint.

History -
Retazyn was born on the onset of the Clone Wars. For his entire life, he knew only a galaxy torn by war, strife, and oppression, but for his first few years, he was somewhat insulated from it by his family's nomadic, trophy hunter lifestyle. His father, Livassk, subscribed to an ancient tradition that dictated that the best way to earn Jagannath points and the Scorekeeper's favor was to hunt the biggest, most dangerous kills, going for quality over quantity.

In other words, a single Rancor gave a hunter more Jagannath than even 1000 Jims from Accounting.

Over time, Retazyn himself subscribed to this ideal, but eventually the state of the galaxy caught up to them when they went hunting on a planet that was claimed by some Imperial official as his own private preserve. Upon being asked to be submitted for processing, Retazyn and Livassk responded in typical Trandoshan fashion, which is to say things got violent very quickly. However, the two were outnumbered and outgunned, with certain capture inevitable. Livassk opted to take his own life through full-out assault, but Retazyn wasn't able to do the same.

Capture, in Trandoshan culture, is the absolutely worst thing that could happen to one. It erases a Trando's entire life's score of Jagannath points, effectively shaming them in the eyes of the Scorekeeper and guaranteeing a substandard afterlife, if they aren't rejected entirely. Retazyn spent months on an Imperial prison barge, unable to just finish it and cursing himself for not following his father's wisdom.

During the Galactic Civil War, however, a VIP was transferred to this prison barge, someone so important that the Rebels could not leave them to rot in space. A crack team of commandos infiltrated the barge, and initiated a prison riot to distract the Imperial guards while they escaped. Retazyn himself was part of this riot, and was glad to finally shed Imperial blood. He made himself a promise -- he would get his score back and avenge Livassk by killing every single Imperial he could. To this end, his vicious, bloodthirsty mind identified the Rebels as his best shot to this end, opting to assist in their escape directly. His effectiveness was noted, eventually enlisting in the Rebel Alliance.

As could be expected, he was exemplary in his service, lots of bucketheads died, and the Rebels won the war.

His story doesn't end there, however. Retazyn, upon the war's end, decided to return to Trandosha, figuring the best way to spread his father's legacy and give him the proper respect was to teach a new generation in Livassk's way. However, this fell through -- he was estranged and odd for a Trandoshan at this point, influenced by non-Dosha. Only one of his new hatchlings decided to stay with him, and Retazyn found himself re-enlisting in the New Republic's armada. He is loathe to leave his child alone or take her anyore, even though it's his own volition that he dives back into the ashes of his old life.



Zechary Reach // 78 // Human // Male // Imperial Remnants // Fleet Admiral of the 28th Star Destroyer Armada // 

Physical Description -
Upon looking at this old 5'10" war dog, the fact that he has seen enough fighting to last a lifetime would be extremely evident. Reach possesses wizened facial features graced by a gray beard turning to white with only little flecks of the original black coloring remaining, contrasted by the steady grace he moves with and fit built he
still possesses. He keeps his uniform crisp and unmarred even in these trying times for the Empire, and proudly wears his Fleet Admiral plaque upon his breast.

Brief Personality -
Reach is quiet when he wants to be, and loud when he needs to be. Even under pressure, he is defined by his calm, calculating nature, something he deliberately tries to maintain in order to always appear to be in control of the situation, even when he clearly is not. Due to the nature of his assignments and prior experience in the Old Republic Navy, he has been able to devise his own unique brand of commanding his fleet that is built off of respect, admiration, and trust, with a little bit of "follow my lead" thrown in there.

History -
By the time the Clone Wars initiated, Zechary Reach was already an admiral, if far more brash and headstrong than he was now. At the time, he sought to be part of the vanguard to defend and restore the Republic, but 3 years of brutal, seemingly unending war worn him down into the man he was today.

Suddenly, the Clone Wars actually did end -- Order 66 commenced. Admiral Reach held his doubts about the Jedi, but he had to stow them away, for it was time to wipe the slate of the Old Republic clean and install the new Galactic Empire, restoring peace and prosperity to the galaxy.

Through an iron fist.

Throughout the growth of the New Order, it became apparent that Reach was beginning to chafe against the new Imperial Navy -- his style was too different, but too successful, and he needed to be removed, while he thought the new Imperial High Naval Command was too heavy-handed and ineffective. To that end, he was reassigned to Wild Space and the Unknown Regions through political maneuvering, patrolling the absolutely most uncharted and uninhabited regions of space to keep him out of mind.

This new assignment turned out to be perfect to Reach. Here, he developed his fleet and chain of command to his specifications, dealing with threats, species, and diplomatic incidents that were simply preposterous when read on official reports. Over time, the servicemen of his fleet grew to respect him through reputation, and none wished to disappoint the Old Man Upstairs after pulling them through so much Wild Space.

Eventually, however, the Galactic Civil War started. Reach's old fleet of a singular Imperial-I, Venators, Acclamators, and Victory-classes were recalled to fight increasingly organized insurgents that grew into their own galaxy-wide political movement. The Venators and Acclamators were decommissioned and scrapped for more modern Star Destroyers -- they were replaced by retrofitted Imperial-IIs, Victory-classes, and Arquitens frigates, just in time for the Battle of Hoth. Even during this time, however, naval politics still prevented him from seeing too much action out of fear that he may potentially outshine someone more important.

To this end, he wasn't present at Endor, instead monitoring for Rebel activity to help lead or confirm that the majority of the Rebel fleet would fall into the Emperor's trap. Ever since, Reach's life has been one of retreat and licking wounds. Even if the Empire has not treated him properly, He still believes it is still the successor state of the Old Republic, the proper governing body of the galaxy, and the best way to sustained peace is out of the ashes of the Empire.


Bal Kaizen // 35 // Human // Male // Imperial Remnants // Imperial Special Forces Captain //

Physical Description -
Bal Kaizen appears extraordinarily... ordinary at first glance. He is fair-skinned, has blue eyes, and short brown hair, and at 5'9", perhaps a little short for a Stormtrooper. The most iconic features he has though, are his steely-eyed gaze able to soften at a moment's notice and the cauterized scar down through his scalp onto his forehead.

Equipment -
Bal Kaizen owns a meticulously cared-for and fine-tuned E-11 blaster rifle, as well as a holdout E-17 "Flash" blaster pistol. He still has his old Special Forces armor kit, a particular suit of armor that can only be best described as a combination of Stormtrooper and Scout armor -- the old helmet is retained, though some armor pieces have been cast off, particularly around the groin, shoulders, and somewhat around the whole legs, although the plasteel itself has been combined and backed with durasteel during a manufacturing process for increased protection, giving the armor itself a somewhat distinct, dull blue hue. Kaizen is extremely adaptable and willing to use whatever weapons he must, and is capable of operating a variety of ground vehicles and starfighters.

Brief Personality -
Bal Kaizen, for his age, is an incredibly proficient soldier, driven by life-long desire for peace and justice and the willpower to back it all up. He of course knows the Empire was not all that it was cracked up to be, but he believes in the stability through force and power that it provided. Despite this, Bal possesses a well-developed sense of humor, and his desire to protect leads him to go out of his way to avoid collateral damage. He is an oxymoron -- a trooper with a heart buried deep under the plasteel, nevertheless with a mild patriotic fervor to a dead, oppressive regime, all tempered by past tragedies.

History -
Bal Kaizen grew up on a Mid Rim world that was torn apart by conflict during the Clone Wars and was orphaned at a young age, instilling in him at a young age a strong desire for order, justice, and strength. He enlisted in the Stormtrooper Corps as soon as he was able to out of a sincere desire to protect, suitably inspired by the Clone soldiers of old who eventually reclaimed his world. His service record has been almost nothing short of exemplary, with a few pre-Alliance insurgent cells and even a surviving Padawan credited to him. His proudest moment, however, was his recruitment into Imperial Special Forces on the onset of the Galactic Civil War.

His unit, Task Force Aurek, became a dedicated fast-response "problem solver" unit, seeking to eliminate specific Rebel targets with extreme efficiency, shore up trouble zones, and perform counter-intelligence operations against Rebel intelligence units. Their success became subjective over time -- originally, they were extremely effective and a credible threat to the Rebel Alliance's very structure, but eventually it grew too big to contain, and they learned to fight back.

By the end of the war, the only original Aurek left was Bal Kaizen, until he was just flat-out the only Aurek remaining. They had been wiped out during the Battle of Endor -- two had been shot down in their TIE Fighters, while the other two perished during the penultimate ground skirmish on Endor itself.

To Bal, Aurek is now a squad of one, and he is happy to repay the New Republic a favor back for it, Kaizen himself stained by the ashes of his loss.

Code Word (found in the rules) -
Korriban

i love backstory

Definitely helps add depth to the characters. Loved reading them!

That's a very good question. I'm gonna allow everyone to be free and do whatever they want, whether it's tracking someone down, hanging out at a base, or plotting something.

I'm going to have my New Republic lady wake up in the middle of a battle, a sole survivor of her squad. I'll think up a location, but there could be a big skirmish going on between the New Republic and the Remnants.

( Everyone is more than welcome to throw their characters around wherever once they're accepted )


Rebel Outpost, Endor


Makra jolted upright at the sound of a nearby explosion. She wasn't sure just how long she'd been out, but it didn't take long for her to remember what was going on. The outpost she'd been stationed at was quiet. The forests of Endor rarely saw many disturbances anymore. The Imperials were one of the biggest surprises imaginable for the place. Around a hundred or so soldiers were garrisoned at the post, and they'd managed to fend off the first attack. Reinforcements hadn't come in due to the Imperials' swift work at jamming their comms. This attack had been orchestrated for a long time. 

The girl stood up shakily, looking around the area. She was in the command center of the base, and it seemed that everyone around her was dead, save for a couple of wounded that she could sense were beyond helping. She grabbed her rifle from the floor, trying to find some sign of hope. Her eyes fell on the world on the other side of the glass, showing the courtyard swarming with stormtroopers. She counted at least ten of her comrades being detained and, to her utter horror, executed. They weren't taking prisoners.

Heart pounding in her chest, Makra heard a familiar beeping coming from her side. She grabbed her communicator and listened in. "Yeah?" She asked. 

Her squad leader's voice came in. Gillian. "Good to hear you're still alive. Listen, there's a couple of us left, but we're getting out of here. Can you make it to the hangar?" 

Makra turned away from the glass. The hangar bay wasn't too far away, she could probably make it. "I- I can, yeah." 

"Good. We'll see you soon." Gillian concluded, going silent. 

The soldier made it out of the command center and cautiously wove through the corridors of the base, careful to avoid detection whenever possible. She was just outside the garage when something pressed against the small of her back. 

"Any moves, and you die, rebel scum." A voice whispered into her ear. She couldn't tell who it was, but she knew it was nobody friendly. Four stormtroopers advanced, prepared to breach the door. The person behind her motioned for her to use her commlink. Makra knew that she'd die if she refused, so she complied. "I- I'm here." Was all she said. 

Promptly, the door opened, revealing Gillian who's expression turned from joy to fear before he took a shot to the chest. Makra screamed out as she watched her friend die. The stormtroopers advanced, cutting down the remaining allies she had. Without realizing what she was doing, she heard a choking sound from behind her. The girl whirled around to see the stormtrooper who'd been holding her at gunpoint grasping at his neck. She looked down at her hand to see it making a cupping motion. Clenching her teeth in a rage, she tightened her hand until it was a fist, a crack sounding before the trooper fell limp at her feet. 

She hadn't used the force like that in a long time. Hell, she hadn't used the force itself in ages. And now she found herself grabbing two pieces from the inside of her jacket. She fit them together as the stormtroopers who'd killed her friends left the hangar to regroup with their commander, only to find him dead. With a click, the lightsaber was assembled. Makra turned around, igniting the red blade. The troopers' surprise ebbed quickly as they opened fire on her, their shots being deflected as the girl advanced. One of them had the bright idea to call it in. 

"In the hangar, send help! There's a rebel with a lightsab-" he was cut off as Makra impaled him, shoving him to the ground. She clipped her saber to her belt. For all she knew, she was the last of the New Republic soldiers still breathing. She wouldn't be able to out-pilot any of the TIE fighters. The benefits of fleeing far outweighed the risks, so she found herself preparing to climb into one of the ships when stormtroopers began to enter the area. Makra grabbed her saber, lighting it and preparing to fight. She was outnumbered, and she knew this. 

The New Republic was too close to discovery of the plan, building this outpost on the ashes of the second Death Star and the old Empire. The plan so far had gone swimmingly: jam the outbound frequencies, storm the base with overwhelming force. One trooper had the intuition to use the base’s own comms to crack open their safe room, a move Bal will surely commend them for. The New Republic surely wouldn’t know it was Imperials that wiped this base off of the face of Endor — it could’ve just as easily have been pirates hoping to leave no witnesses during their latest smash and grab.

Except there was, inexplicably, a Jedi here in some nowhere outpost on the forest moon of Endor out in the Outer Rim. Bal remembered how brave, resourceful, and dangerous the Jedi were during the Purge. One could throw this entire mission into jeopardy by revealing their presence to the New Republic.

Bal lead his reinforcements through the base to the hangar, knowing that the only things that could take down a Jedi from the new Jedi Order would be overwhelming force, or himself. As they funneled into the room, however the trooper captain noticed something familiar yet different — the unique design of the red, double-bladed lightsaber, but Makra’s face. It was different now, of course, but Bal was excellent as spotting the details. When the Inquisitorius was disbanded, Special Forces adopted their priority target lists, although not even Special Forces was entirely aware of what the Inquisitorius was.

Bal lifted up his gauntlet from his rifle and spun his finger around, and the troopers began to form a wide circle around. “I know you,” he said as he started to advance slowly on Makra, blaster at the ready. “You’re from before. During the Purge, isn’t that right? You’re an old wrong that wasn’t ever set right.”

Bal was not in the mood to play nice — this could go to hell in a hand basket quickly. Quickly, he holstered his E-11, pulling out his flash pistol and an extended stun club from above his det charge. “Why is there even a Jedi here?”

(Somehow, I got it into my head she got her lightsaber from the Inquisitors in her backstory LOL)

Bal stopped for a moment. "I'm not afraid of Jedi," he retorted, flipping his shock baton around. "Not after the first." Clearly, he was dragging this out, trying to unsettle her, but then the tables began to turn somewhat.

Bal could feel the Force, nipping at his mind, clouding his vision. He could hardly remember the last time a mind trick had been used on him. Was one ever?. "B-blast!" he cursed, regaining himself as his left arm flew up to take aim with the flash pistol, pressing a switch upon the side and firing a glob of electrostatic, concussive energy in Makra's direction. Letting her use the Force was not an option.

Cole  Trobeck  // 26 years old.  // Human  // Male  //  Imperial Remnants  // Inquisitor  // Force Sensitive? [Yes/No]
Yes 


Physical Description -  Cole has dark brown hair with some black mixed in.  He has grey colored eyes and stands at around 5'10. Cole has a athletic build and is missing one of his fingers on his right hand. 


Equipment - Cole has the usual black and grey bodysuit and a  helmet to go with it. He has a double bladed red lightsaber and blaster pistol. 


Brief Personality - Cole is a calculating and ambitious person.  He is always looking for ways to become stronger and doesn't care who gets in his way.  He takes pride in his victories and laments on his losses. Cole has been known to lash out and can be  cruel to his enemies.  He likes to use his words to get into people's heads and make them second guess themselves. 


History (optional) - Not much is known about his past. He was trained as a teenager in the ways of the dark side and wasn't long before he became an inquisitor himself.  He mainly searched the galaxy for force sensitive children to bring to the dark side.   However, he now been ordered to await new instructions and is eager to carry them out. 


Code Word (found in the rules) -  Korriban


(More characters coming soon. Hope she looks okay)

(I feel compelled to make a Jedi with all these Dark Siders around lol)

Bal could not resist. "Oh really? To my understanding, Jedi, there hasn't been a single problem an electroshock table hasn't ever been able to solve." The things disgusted him, to be honest. They represented a part of what he believed made the New Order fail, even if they were effective, as he was hoping they would be now.

"No, you submit. I am not afraid to die, and I'm more than capable of taking you down with me."

There was something different -- Bal wasn't old enough to have known what the true Jedi Order was like, and the distinction between the light and dark meant almost nothing to him. But the Padawan from so long ago, she was scared and desperate. Not like this -- this was something else, malicious and deadly.

A few shouts of shock or anger flew about the hangar. A few aimed at her, but most seemed uncertain. One stormtrooper dropped his rifle.

"Rookie!" a trooper scolded him.

Bal himself held his hands up, unable to speak. He tossed the baton over halfway between her, the charge dropping to null. Then, the flash pistol went over, sliding much farther, well over halfway to her.

"Captain?" incredulously called the trooper that scolded the Rookie.