KY-9914

Male

23

Aquella

Private

Stormsurgeon

Patches

Malik Skaya is smaller than the average Aquellan, standing at a mere six feet in height and having a chest only as wide as a barrel rather than a barn like many of his larger, bulkier cousins. Powerful, coiled muscles stretch across a wide and towering frame, forged like wrought metal in the fires of a crucible. A sheet of tanned, oily flesh sits atop that bulging brawn, marred by numerous scars, piercings, and tribal tattoos alike. Swirling ink of a deep, royal purple traces it's way from the bottom of his feet up to the back of his neck in a brilliant display of grandiose color. Each individual branch of the tattoo links to the primary 'trunk' painted upon his torso; every branch representing one of the five principle gods of the Aquellan pantheon. For example, he bears the god of the ocean upon his right arm, with images of tidal waves and gargantuan leviathans from his homeworld melded seamlessly into the primary branch. The other marked gods include the god of the sky, the god of stone and the twin goddesses of the living and the dead.

Another important facet of Aquellan culture is the five rings pierced within every adult's skin. Four of these rings are placed into a single ear (the right ear for men and the left for women, though homosexual members of either sex have started doing the reverse in recent years) while the fifth is driven through the nose. Each of these rings represents a single principle deity and is forged from the metal that represents each god or goddess. The sky god is represented by Osmium, the stone god by Duralium, the ocean god by Brass, the life goddess by Iron and finally Obsidian, representing the death goddess. The nose ring is chosen based upon which god the wearer feels the closest connection to.

The thick, manicured beard resting on his chin is- like much of Malik's appearance- based on customs and tradition. Warriors from Aquella are expected to remove all of the hair from their bodies save for that which lies on their faces; it is believed that the minor God of Battle looks more favorably on bearded men due to the fact that he's most often depicted with facial hair himself. Normally Malik would be expected to allow it- and his hair- to grow out wild and untamed, but Imperial regulations require him to keep it controlled and well cut. Unwilling to shame himself by allowing another to shave his head, Malik carries a crude hand razor and does the work himself. He's gotten good enough at it that it isn't uncommon for others in his unit to ask that he acts as their barber as well.

Standard E-11 Blaster Rifle
Standard Plastoid Armor w/ Bronze Identification Pauldron
Backpack
Additional E-11 Energy Cells
Ion Flares
Bacta Patches, Salves, Bactade, and Bio-Bacta Tank
Additional Medical Supplies
A Single Thermal Detonator

Malik Skaya is trapped between two worlds that don't accept him. He's small, weak and a borderline traitor by the harsh standards of his homeworld's culture. Yet many Imperial citizens look down their noses at him as if he's nothing more than a disgusting, vile wretch, no more than a degree away from the aliens they treat as second class citizens. One side calls him a savage; the other believes him cowed and domesticated. He is called soft and weak in one breath and gruff and violent in the other. No matter what he does to try and appease his peers, Malik finds that it is never enough. There's always some failing that needs to be fixed. Some hole in his character that requires patching. It's a never-ending cycle to reach some unattainable perfection that Malik's too blind to see doesn't truly exist.

Growing up on Aquella for the first eight years of his life, Malik learned the hardships of life had to be faced head-on. He grew up in a very traditionalist tribe that- while knowing the secrets to space travel- still followed the 'old ways' in many respects. Farming was considered beneath any proper man, left only to slaves and droids. Disputes were handled not in courts of law but rather in fighting pits with wooden weapons, and 'honor duels' to the death were frightfully common despite, technically, being outlawed. Even as a boy, Malik participated in several of these events. His life was spent stooped in violence; to survive and thrive meant growing hard of heart and facing each problem that arose with his fists rather than his head.

These ideas on what life was meant to be like led to his downfall when his father brought him across the galaxy to Coruscant, where the people were practically aliens to someone like Malik. He was reprimanded fiercely for 'acting out' several times; he never knew what the 'appropriate' action was, and often found himself facing consequences for things he didn't even know were 'wrong.' Malik was nearly arrested on several occasions, though thanks to his father's influence those altercations were scrubbed from the record completely. As time went on and he adjusted his behaviors and thought processes to fit in, he found himself constantly and consistently rebuked by everyone he approached. He made few friends as a boy, either frightening away other children or being the target of relentless bullying for his awkward demeanor; it was easy to make the boy angry, especially since he was no longer allowed to fight his abusers without risking the wrath of his parents.

Somewhat surprisingly, Malik's life improved significantly when he arrived at the academy- once he had endured and overturned the initial preconceptions of his peers. He was no longer surrounded by the prissy, arrogant children of senators and politicians; they were farm hands, warriors and the children of soldiers. He fell easily into the routine of army life, proving himself surprisingly intelligent on top of impressive physical capabilities. He had a particular fascination for Imperial medicine, as things like bacta and other modern amenities weren't readily available in his sector. His philosophies on life were considered rather odd, to say the least, by the other medic trainees; on Aquella, death was considered a good thing by most, as it allowed them to overcome their mortal coils and ascend to, essentially, godhood. Many considered it callous and strange that he refused to mourn the fallen, though his beliefs proved useful on the battlefield as he could continue to operate on the wounded with little regard for their ultimate fate.

As he has grown older, Malik has turned to humor to combat feelings of inadequacy and anxiety. He'll bury his true fears underneath a mountain of mocking jokes and gruff jests, using his tongue as a weapon in times of doubt. He often worries about maintaining an image of strength around his fellow squadmates and soldiers, going out of his way to 'prove' himself in ways that are occasionally detrimental to himself. Hiding his true thoughts has become second nature as he seeks to create an image of himself that he hopes lives up to the standards of both the Empire and his home, though rarely can he ever live up to those high standards that he sets up for himself.

Senator Daros Skaya, the democratically elected representative of planet Aquella, was not a popular man on either his homeworld or Coruscant. At home, he was often referred to as a traitor to his culture and a dog of the Empire; in Coruscant, they thought of him as a savage stuck in his ancient, outdated ways, barely better than an alien. In an effort to bridge the two clashing cultures, Daros and his wife, Sara, brought their child to Coruscant. He was named Malik after his grandfather and was to be raised as they hoped all future sons of Aquella would be raised- with their culture intact, yet modernized to conform to Imperial law.

As a boy, Malik found himself enthralled by the pomp and circumstance of life in the Empire's capital city. He was more than attuned to the fanciful parties, strange costumes, and plentiful festivities. One of the things he enjoyed most was waking up early to watch the Stormtroopers in their bright, heroic armor drill in the Imperial Plaza every morning. Though he didn't know it at the time, that impressive sight would be burned into the forefront of his mind for the rest of his life.

Though life as the son of a senator proved hectic and enjoyable, his father, Daros, was bending under the weight. His superiors in the Senate were pressuring him to tame the wild nature of his home system, pressing hard for the eradication of slavery in particular. The Aquellans were far from accepting, as the enslavement of debtors and the children of whores had been a facet of their religion and culture for thousands of years; it was a common punishment for petty crimes since it was said that imprisonment made men lazy and worthless. Their vitriolic refusal had brought the veritable hammer down on their heads when a Stormtrooper battalion arrived and forcibly freed every man, woman, and child enchained on Aquella. Many believed that it would be impossible to reconcile Imperial rule with the ferociously independent Aquellan culture. Even Daros's own family and sponsors doubted him, often pleading with him to return home so that Malik might grow up a proper man.

Infuriated by their derision and unwilling to break, Daros spoke frankly to his son about the situation they were in. He convinced his child that the only way to solve the issues they faced would be to prove that Aquellan culture could be integrated with Imperial rule; he needed to prove that a child could grow up under the Emperor's banner yet continue to live free and serve his gods with the same fervency and reverence as ever. Malik would be that proof. He would be the living embodiment of everything that Daros had preached. Malik would be lauded as an icon of his people, and a model of Imperial service and citizenship. Eager to make his father proud, he accepted, and the course of his life was altered forever.

Since the dawn of their culture, Aquellans had imprinted upon themselves a tapestry of the heavens in a ceremony that represented their passage into adulthood under the watchful care of the gods. To have that ink flow through one's flesh was to be accepted as a fully-fledged member of the clan. An Aquellan without tattoos was seen as an outcast; one cursed to wander alone until they earned the right to bear those marks that they all wore. It was considered the greatest shame to be denied the right to wear those tattoos. Malik refused to leave for the Academy until he had undergone the ceremony, all but begging his father to take them home to Aquella- just for the celebration. Just so that he might stand as an equal among his brothers for at least a few, precious days.

But he was set to leave for the training facility in but three days; there was no time to get to Aquella, led alone go through the nearly week-long celebration ceremony. The only way Malik could feasibly do both was if he waited until the next cycle to join, yet that, too, was painful for the boy. He'd been dreaming of leaving the senate's pampered halls since practically the day he got there. Now that the opportunity presented itself to leave, he couldn't bear to pass it up. So, reluctantly, he chose to have his tattoos applied by a droid, far away from the boisterous festivities of hundreds of relatives that he might've expected if he returned to Aquella.

Then he was off to the academy, where he immediately met rather fierce opposition from his new peers. Now that he wore his alienness so openly upon his flesh, Malik had painted a large, purple target right on his back; he was mocked, bullied and ostracized as if the paint in his skin made him any less human than the rest of them. The first few weeks were...discouraging, to say the least. In the quiet of the night, he often contemplated dropping out and flying back to Coruscant with his tail between his legs. He feared that it would never get any easier, and that the torment of those around him would remain a constant battle. It was only the thought of disappointing his family that kept him to the faith; he could not live with himself if he returned home a failure.

As time went on, however, things began to change. His fellow recruits warmed to him over time. Some had seen the error in judging him after spending such a great deal of time at his side; others had seen the fierceness with which Malik competed and thought better of antagonizing him further. He was still seen with a degree of 'otherness' by his superiors and peers, but once that initial hurdle was jumped, Skaya found himself enjoying military life a good deal more than the civilian one he had once led.

Malik had a natural athletic ability that, when coupled with his pre-training from age eleven, made him a top student in his class of cadets at the academy. He had a sharp, inquisitive mind coupled with a dedication and discipline one could not expect. Every course, every drill and every little scrap of instruction was approached with the fullest eagerness; there was almost a palpable desperation in the way Malik leaped at each opportunity presented to him as if he was so terrified of failure that he could not help but succeed. He proved particularly interested in the field of field medicine, showing a natural talent for healing that brought him into the Medical Corps for further specialized training.

He eventually graduated in the top percentile of his class, earning the right to wear that shining white armor that he had once ogled at from a distance. Though he has only served for a handful of years, he's already adjusted well to the soldiering life; admittedly he does miss the luxury he once lived in, but his surroundings are more than tolerable. One of his primary duties given to him by his father was to document his time in the army well, sending back plenty of material for Daros to use as Imperial propaganda to show Aquella the Emperor's light; it was one of a dozen other tactics Daros and his allies were using to fight against the resent created by the Imperial occupation of their homeworld. The whole world's eyes now lie on Malik as he begins his slow, perilous climb up the Imperial ladder to prove himself- and by extension, Aquella- as an equal to the rest of the Empire.

'Imperius Unitada ober Totallex'

LR-3080

Male

19

Lothal

Private

Demolitions

Tremor

Corros stands at exactly 5’10” tall, broad-shouldered and athletic in build. He is toned rather than bulky, weighing in at just shy of the 170-pound mark, towards the upper end of average for his height. Corros’ pale blue eyes sit wide on his face, and his baby face and smooth unblemished skin, alongside his complete lack of facial hair, has left more than one person thinking he is even younger than he is. He has a small pointed nose, sharp squared jaw and puffy lips that are rarely ever seen not curled up into a smile. He keeps his dark brown hair cut short at all times, styled upwards to keep it off his face as best as he can. He never, ever lets it grow past regulation length. His facial hair hardly grows out, but after a few weeks the shadow on his upper lip becomes noticeable and is immediately removed. Like all stormtroopers, Corros was drilled and conditioned in the Imperial Academy. He stands straight, a well-drilled and disciplined soldier. However, though the Academy places a strict emphasis on extinguishing individuality in its recruits, one glance at Corros’ face is enough to see that his spirit has not been squashed. His eyes, in particular, are wild and wide, betraying the excitement and enthusiasm he has. He practically glows with youthful exuberance.

Corros has always taken very little pride in his appearance, and even now after years of training still struggles to maintain the crisp white of his armor. He doesn't see why he should waste time cleaning it when it's just going to get dirty again later. This attitude has led to him being in frequent trouble for improper maintenance of his kit over the years he has spent in training. Like all Private-ranked stormtroopers, Corros wears a black pauldron over his left shoulder. However, as a Demolitions trooper, Corros has a red emblem on his shoulder pad to make others aware of his specialist training.

Corros has been forced to do a lot of growing up in the last five years. As a young teenager he was free-spirited and rebellious, enjoying every day as it came and spending almost every second he was awake playing with his friends and getting into trouble for petty incidents. Obviously, that behaviour didn’t last long after his enrolment at the Academy for Young Imperials on Lothal. Very quickly, Corros was taught the importance of discipline. He is a driven and motivated individual and moulding him from a fiery teenager into a well-oiled cog in the Imperial war machine has proven a far more difficult task than most other candidates. What got Corros through his training despite his less-than-satisfactory behaviour was his outstanding performance; the Commandant of the Academy on Lothal could see the potential in this boy. His mind is sharp, and he picked up the theoretical and academic side of his studies with ease, excelling in problem solving, historical studies and strategic knowledge. These traits have been carried with him through his training, and despite his somewhat mediocre physical performances, his mental test scores have always been among the highest in every single class he has been in, even when put up against candidates several years his senior towards the later stages of his training.

Now, there is no doubting this man's devotion to the Empire. His loyalty to his squadmates is unparalleled, and he was often in trouble in the earlier stages of his training for sacrificing his own victory in favour of ensuring his squad also finished the challenges. The Well conditioned Corros from a young age; the tests are designed to improve a young candidate’s reflexes, strength, endurance and intelligence, and had the desired effect on Corros. Like all selected for Stormtrooper training, he underwent extra conditioning. For most, this dehumanizes them, and all Corros’ squadmates began referring to themselves by their serial number, seeing themselves as a number rather than a person. Corros adapted; he did so in front of his superiors, but never for a second did he see himself as a number. He regards his superiors with the utmost respect and is well disciplined, carrying out any and every command to the letter, no questions asked. However, this is out of his own free will rather than Imperial training having forced him to fall in line. Corros actively wants to serve the Empire and be the best soldier he can be, grateful to the Empire for the security and safety that the takeover of Lothal provided him and his parents during his childhood. He strives to be among the best and provide the justice and security that the Empire gave him and his family to the other citizens of the galaxy.

Despite the drilling and conditioning, Corros still displays remarkable passion and enthusiasm. He is still like a child in many ways, awestruck by the scale of the galaxy and all its weird and wonderful inhabitants. The wide-eyed youth is plucky and excitable, and although he has been largely restrained and his impulses tamed during his time at the Imperial Academies, he has still shown obvious flashes that they still exist, and this could be cause for concern down the line if he acts upon them. The young man from Lothal is an optimist, trying to see every situation in the best possible light, and this has made him a firm favourite among his academy squads thanks to his sunny disposition and the general friendly air about him. It has also, from time to time, annoyed many who think he is simply too happy. He has been known to take on the role of team cheerleader before, encouraging and trying to motivate his squadmates to push on when they would otherwise give up. He is a positive person, easy to get along with and a welcoming ear ready to listen to anyone who needs to talk. All of this came from his parents. Having had a hard life before the Empire took over Lothal, Corros’ parents were naturally grateful for the lot they eventually got in life and understood the importance of teaching Corros to appreciate everything he has, as he has only ever known security and safety since the age of 5 and many others in the galaxy are not so lucky.

In terms of Corros’ combat psychology, it is hard to gauge how he would act in a firefight since he has technically never been in combat outside of simulations. He is no coward, but on the other hand he has never killed anyone before, and it is hard to gauge how this would impact the psyche of someone who sees the galaxy as such a wonderful place and maintains a positive outlook on everything. He has exhibited impressive scores in combat simulations; he is relatively accurate with a blaster, enough so to pass the test, and is proficient with the kit available to him a demolitions trooper. His sharp mind allows him to overcome a diverse range of problems in simulation, but how this will translate to a real-life combat scenario remains to be seen. He finds it easy to gel with and work with a team and is obedient when following orders.

Corros' motivation is to give something back. The Empire gave his family a secure life, and in return he is willing to lay down his life to protect the values they represent and the cause they fight for. He wants peace and unity but knows that sometimes peace can only be gained through violence. He wants to protect and serve, to deliver justice to the enemies of his beloved Empire and ensure the safety of all who live within it. His motivations are very reflective of his personality, and his passion. It is worth noting, however, that on leave between graduation from the Stormtrooper Corps and his first assignment, Corros returned home to Lothal to find that much of what the Empire had done had devastated his homeworld and left many citizens disenchanted with the Empire. Corros, fuelled on Imperial propaganda and excitement for his new role, dismissed the notion that the Empire was causing harm rather than doing good and pushed it to the back of his mind. But it is still there.

Corros was born and raised on Lothal, an Outer Rim world of grassy plains and shallow seas, dotted with long, low mountains, fertile farmland and scattered patches of marshland. This was 24 BBY, a few years before the Empire was invited to take over the planet's failing industries by Lothal’s ruling legislative body. Corros’ parents lived in Lothal City, the main population centre and capital city of the planet. Both his mother, Arani Meeran, and father, Zhaf Meeran, were unemployed at the time of his birth and had been for several years. They had both been in and out of jobs for a decade, with his father making ends meet by scavenging scrap cast out from the factories and taking odd jobs and temporary work for what pitiful credits he could just to put food on the table. When Corros was a little past his fifth birthday, Lothal was integrated under Imperial rule, which would change the face of the planet, as well as the lives of its citizens.

The Empire changed things on Lothal. The planet had been in a state of economic disrepair, with unemployment widespread and crime becoming more and more prominent. The Empire was invited to take over the planet's failing industries in exchange for the promise of safety and security. Many of Lothal's citizens, including both of Corros' parents, believed Imperial dominion over Lothal would herald doom, having heard rumours about their less than peaceful 'assimilations' across the galaxy. While not every change the Imperials made was well-received, the benefits were considerable. They breathed new life into Lothal's industry, albeit at the expense of their planet's agricultural industry. Lothal City, where Corros and his family lived, became the centre of Imperial power on Lothal. Stormtrooper patrols walked the streets, and half of the city was demolished and replaced with Imperial-style skyscrapers and factories. The vast fertile farmland was cleared to make way for mining complexes to be built on deposits of natural resources, and factories sprung up producing ships and weapons for the swelling Imperial forces. Corros and his parents had their lives stabilized after both parents found work in a BlasTech weapons factory built near the planet's capital where he grew up. Shortly after the Imperial takeover, when Corros was seven years old, his younger twin sisters, Kirani and Rami Meeran, were born.

Corros' parents were enamoured with the Empire. The stormtrooper garrisons that patrolled the streets ensured the safety of Lothal City’s citizens and sent the rising crime rates plummeting back down. The industrial revolution they brought about ensured plentiful jobs and allowed the people of Lothal to feel like they were part of something, giving back to the Empire for all they had done for their planet, and the establishment of several Imperial education institutes across the country ensured a better life for the next generation of Lothal's citizens. For Corros' entire school life he was subject to Imperial teachings and propaganda, hearing tales of the world the Empire had saved and seeing himself among those lucky enough to be part of the Galactic Empire. For as long as he could remember, Corros had watched the stormtroopers marching the streets, seeing them as a symbol of justice and security, heroes in the eyes of a spirited young boy who had never known anything but the world the Empire had created.

In reality, Corros had been blinded. The Empire was slowly destroying Lothal, using the wide-open spaces the planet provided to develop and test experimental weapons and craft, demolishing Lothal's self-sufficient agricultural system to make way for grotesque mining complexes that spread pollution and corrupted Lothal's natural beauty. But, living in the city, Corros was never exposed to the damage that the Empire was causing to the rest of the world and ignored anything said about it, his young mind fully under the spell of the Empire’s indoctrination. The constant recruitment campaigns and propaganda posters did their job on Corros. He had always been passionate and enthusiastic in everything he did, and his overzealous and impulsive nature often landed him in trouble. He and his friends spent every day in Lothal City finding new ways to entertain themselves, playing games in the streets and sneaking out after dark for secret meetups. His passion carried with him through his entire life; as he grew older he became more and more convinced that he wanted to be a stormtrooper. Part of the decision was because he had spent his whole life looking up to them, and the other half was thanks to the constant recruitment propaganda that students on Lothal were exposed to.

Corros' father wanted him to be a pilot; he enrolled him for lessons at a flight academy at the age of 12. It was not one for the Imperial Navy. Here, youngsters could learn to fly crop dusters before moving on to an Imperial Academy or other pilot roles. At his age, Corros could not get behind the controls of a crop duster; and instead had to spend hours in a classroom learning all about the theory of flying one. To Corros, a boy whose entire childhood revolved around playing outside with his friends, it was torture. Corros attended, for the sake of his beloved father, but it didn't ignite the spark he wanted. Corros knew his heart lay at the doorstep of the Academy for Young Imperials. His father cried when he told him.

Aged 14, as soon as he was allowed, Corros Meeran enrolled for one year to undergo junior training at the Academy for Young Imperials, under the supervision of Commandant Cumberlayne Aresko and Taskmaster Myles Grint. Corros passed the intake test with flying colours, exhibiting particularly impressive mental capabilities for his age. Corros was sorted into LRC040, an eight-man squad, which was separated into two units, Brak and Dresh. Corros was assigned to Unit Brak, along with three other male cadets, all older than him. The first two weeks of training were largely based on testing and pushing cadets to the limits of their physical capabilities, weeding out weaker candidates in the early stages before any real training took place. It was during this stage of training that Corros first highlighted himself to the Taskmaster, displaying admirable qualities such as obedience and an understanding beyond his years, outshining many candidates in performance who were more physically impressive and older than him.

The Well, a programmable obstacle course where much of the Academy's training took place, would become the bane of Corros' existence for the next year as the cadets were subjected to a wide array of challenging tests and exams. The Well was designed to condition candidates by adding the element of competition to their training for extra motivation, rewarding candidates with duty placements at the Imperial Complex or being shown around the cockpit of an Imperial walker. The trails aimed to improve endurance, reflexes, strength and intelligence. Corros was never motivated by winning, and instead placed an emphasis on ensuring his entire team escaped failure and subsequent punishment rather than his own personal success. Nevertheless, Corros did win a total of six challenges over the course of the year, a noteworthy but not staggering total, finishing in the top 3 in a further eleven tasks. He was not physically exceptional, nor did he demonstrate immense leadership skills. His mental examination scores were very impressive, but his greatest strength lied in his dedication and passion. He displayed teamworking skills beyond his years and the emphasis he put on self-sacrifice for the benefit of his squad earned him several demerits for disciplinary infractions over the course of the year. Corros did sufficiently well in combat training courses thanks to his ability to think quickly and solve problems, despite his somewhat shaky ability with a blaster, and received special recognition for his outstanding performance on field training exercises in the Easthills in the second half of the year. Corros passed out of the Academy, having been selected to be ultimately trained as a stormtrooper, ready to proceed with the next stage of his training.

No senior academy existed on Lothal, so Corros was shipped offworld. Cadets from Lothal were often regarded as being of inferior quality to other academies in Imperial space, despite the incredibly difficult and demanding training regime. However, Corros had scored better than most cadets in the 10 years of the academy's history had ever managed. Aged 15 he said goodbye to his mother, father and two young sisters, and would not see them again for another four years. Corros boarded an Imperial transport bound for the Arkanis Academy on the Outer Rim world of Arkanis, a small rainy world where sunshine was a genuine rarity. The Academy was well-known for producing exceptional Imperial officers, but in terms of its production of Stormtroopers it was regarded as inferior to academies like Raithal Academy and the Royal Imperial Academy on Coruscant. It was Corros’ first ever experience of space flight, and it reignited his wonder and curiosity. Flying through space filled him with excitement, and Corros was glad to be out experiencing the galaxy rather than still stuck on Lothal learning to be a crop duster pilot. The next two years would refine Corros' temperament and discipline, conditioning him into a real soldier.

One thing, however, that always set Corros apart from the others, was his spirit. Imperial training was designed to wipe out individuality, to form men and women from across the Imperial systems into an ever-obeying war machine that kept fighting, no matter the odds. Corros, however, always had been and always would be full of burning passion. He was excitable, impulsive and optimistic. Imperial punishment was harsh, and Corros saw a lot of it. In the end, he found it easier to simply obey and pretend to be the mindless military drone they wanted him to be, but the fire never went out and his spirit has never died. When there was no-one around to punish him, Corros’ real nature would come out. Corros finished two years of education at the Arkanis Academy, having scored admirably in his mental tests, and having seen a considerable improvement in his physical test scores compared to what he was projected on arrival. Upon leaving, Corros had received three years of education, and was a disciplined, respectful, and above all loyal young man. As a boy he had dreamed of becoming a stormtrooper, and now that he was here, he felt immense pride in who he had become and the cause he served.

Upon senior academy graduation, many candidates chose to return home with an Imperial education under their belts. The particularly excellent and devoted amongst them progressed into one of three specialist educations; the Imperial Army, Navy, or the Stormtrooper Corps. The choice had already been made for the 17-year old Corros and had been as early as his graduation from the academy on Lothal. He spent two more years training to be a Stormtrooper before graduating. In this time, he was further conditioned, but still never crushed entirely. The training was more focussed on combat simulation than any of his previous training, and his problem-solving capabilities and understanding of tactics and strategy helped him to impress once more. After an initial year of military training, building his body to be strong and durable and familiarizing Corros with what was expected of him serving as a Stormtrooper, he went on to specialised training to allow him to fill a specialized combat role in his squad when he was eventually assigned. Corros was trained as a Demolitions specialist; learning to become proficient with all three variants of the MLP-57 grenade launcher, a Smart Rocket launcher and numerous other pieces of explosives ordnance equipment. He was taught the ins and outs of explosives ordnance and how to deal with handling, maintaining and disarming it. The training consisted largely of running multiple mock simulations as part of a diverse and specialized unit to learn loyalty, teamwork, and most importantly, proper combat protocol. Corros' tendencies to act out of line in order to help his team had been largely supressed during senior academy training, but every now and then he would act on impulse and land himself in trouble.

Aged 19, Corros passed out of the Stormtrooper Corps academy as a qualified Demolitions specialist. Given his background growing up in the Outer Rim, it made sense to attach him to a unit operating in this region. Corros was given a month's leave before his deployment, during which he headed home to Lothal. It was bizarre to see his family after so long; he had left Lothal aged 15 and returned a young man. His younger sisters were twelve now and had become inseparable. His parents looked run down, having spent years working hard manual jobs in Imperial factories. They were proud of all he had achieved, but in his time away they had grown disenchanted with the Empire. Lothal had become so polluted that it was now visible from orbit, with much of the planet's natural resources diminished and its beauty defiled. It painted the Empire in a different light for Corros, and those small thoughts have been sat in the back of his mind ever since. There were even rumours on the wind that a small rebel cell had festered on Lothal. Nevertheless, a month passed, and Corros bid his family goodbye again left Lothal once more. The wide-eyed youngster, the son of two factory workers from Lothal, had achieved his childhood dream of enlisting as a Stormtrooper, the very same that had idolized since his youth. 1st Platoon, Bravo Company, the 121st Battalion. Corros couldn't wait to get going.

Imperius Unitada ober Totallex.