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Fantasy Star Wars Stormtrooper Corps: Chapter 1 - Academy of Carida

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GhastlySquash

Two Thousand Club
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Nestled in the center of the Spinara Plateau, the Imperial Academy of Carida was an imposing sight for those that walked through its hallways. At the center of it all, was the Citadel. A grand, imposing building with large marble columns that stretched all the way to the heavens.

This was just another day for Commander Brennet. A native of Balmorra, the Commander had since been deployed with a singular task in mind. The training and graduation of a fresh batch of recruits pulled from all corners of the galaxy. Since the dawn of the Galactic Empire, Carida had a reputation for producing the best troopers in the galaxy. And this was no part thanks to the rigorous regimen enforced by the Moffs and Emperor himself.

As such, he'd carefully combed through every dossier.

This was a batch hailing from all parts of the galaxy. Arrik Rekkon. Oddly enough someone that didn't exhibit the rather barbaric traits most Mandalorians were famous for. Priscus Peros. A few notes on his file suggesting he might be up to no good but no proof. Smart man, but hopefully not stupid enough to break his streak. Kella Surik. Typical Imperial upbringing. Parents loyalists. Notes on her file suggest a secretive nature. Very few women apply to be Stormtroopers, as they prefer the Imperial Navy. Muun'bajir Rook. Imperial Army veteran from Mimban. Nasty stuff that the troopers there had dealt with. Still, recommendations from his commanders and even one from a member of Imperial Intelligence.

That was odd. Imperial Intelligence wasn't even suppose to be on Mimban. Then again, Imperial Intelligence was suppose to never be anywhere. It didn't matter, the recommendation was as vague and arbitrary as a standard recommendation. The title was what carried the weight.

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All the cadets were lined up at attention as Brennet walked over, his hands to his side as he addressed the crowd.

"From this day forward, your past is a tool secondary to your training. Your name, a statistic less valuable than your operating number. Your face, a file on our system less valuable than the armor you may one day wear. As stormtroopers, you are not of the Galactic Senate. You are not an officer of the Imperial Navy. You are not a grunt of the Imperial Military. You are not a simple citizen with thoughts or opinions, though you may have them. As a stormtrooper, you are the Emperor's representative. His hand stretched across the galaxy to ensure the laws of the Galactic Empire are enforced. You may not agree with them, you may not like them. But you will always obey them. You will always follow a direct order."

He gestured to the officers. "There are those dissidents that seek anarchy over order. The sacrifices that we make for our Empire are the cost given to ensuring its citizens live in peace without realizing the responsibility it entails. Very few core worlds have ever seen a Star Destroyer and we intend to keep it this way. You have come here to serve the Empire and serve the Empire, you will."

"But this will be no easy test. Many of you will fail. Few make the cut to the Emperor's finest. And every moment of your lives is under scrutinized. So I hope you're ready."
 

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Priscus stood at attention the entire speech, not reacting to a word the Commander had said. He simply thought to himself, rather than reacting to the words of others.

"Hm. If it truly will be much of a challenge I might need some blackmail to make it through." Priscus thought as the Commander finished his speech. "Because I definitely won't be the one to fail. That would make the Hutts pissed, and if the Hutts are pissed at me...." Priscus stopped himself. He wouldn't fail. He couldn't fail. The Hutts had trusted him with this. He was a talented young man who had forced himself deep into the Hutt cartel's Inner workings, and was on a high class smuggling job, now a very important member of a scheme. They wanted him to become an officer so they could have a reliable export of illegal goods into the empire without it being traceable, and that's what he planned on doing.
 
Standing in formations had become very common during Arrik's years at the Academy on Mandalore. This 'line' was a bit more... intense. The Commander in front of he and his future peers spoke about failure as if it were common, yet failed to mention thag no one leaves Carida after failing.

The ride to Carida, the first time Arrik had truly left home, had been nerve-wracking and yet the teen had done everything in his power to present a composed visage. It wasn't easy. The Imperial Academy of Carida was the most prestigious institution in the galaxy and he had been accepted as a cadet, so Arrik assumed he would be under more scrutiny than those who had actual military experience.

He could admit to himself that he was nervous, scared even, but refused to show it however obvious his emotions may be to others. Arrik's stare hardened slightly at the Commander's comment about the "dissidents" that he had specifically signed up to put in their place. This had already proven to be the best choice, in a young man's mind, that he could have made.
 
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[div class=tag]interacts[/div] n/a.
[/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] Commander Brennet was no stranger. Kella had known of his achievements simply because he hailed from Balmorra. 'This could be you', her mother would say over dinner. 'This will be you,' her father assured her when taking her between lessons. She stands straighter during his speech. Everything he states they are as students is something Kella has heard many times, and yet she listens just as intently as if it's the first time hearing it. Obey, obey, obey. "So I hope you're ready."

Kella can't help but smirk. Of course, she's ready. There was plenty of room for doubt, it was the one thing that plagued her dreams; failing, disappointing her family and the empire. But with her ambition, Kella knew she could persevere through anything thrown at her. There was no other choice. [/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]
coded by shady.
 
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Muun'bajir Rook

Ranks closed with cadets of all colours, castes and competencies stood-fast. Muun'bajir Rook was truly one among the rank-and-file. He didn't have to check it twice, there wasn't a single doubt in the would-be stormtrooper's mind on the adequacy of his dressings because he knew that the Empire had always held him to a high standard of drill - donning a pressed uniform with shoulders back, chest out and arms pinned as he stood the distance of an arms length from his right hand marker and four paces back from the shorter, platinum haired cadet in-front. An adequate dressing to be sure.

Speeches - in the opinion of Rook - were often more mundane than moving. Long winded, partially mindless, they were never really something he found interesting. And yet here he was, stood still as stock with attention undivided. He couldn't help but let the subtle smirk cross his face. Commander Brennet was a true to life Imperial and probably believed at the very least every second word he said. Even though he almost huffed in amusement at his own mental quips, there wasn't any comedy to be found in reality but it was without a doubt admirable. Effectively sold by the field officer's words, somehow he thought, but no more inclined to really believe them past his own personal experiences. Too long caught in the grasp of overzealous officers of the upper class that often underestimated the resolve or ability of their foe.

Imperial laws. He didn't agree with them all, he didn't like most of them but he obeyed them and, to looser extent, always followed... his own interpretation of an Imperial order. To him a good soldier followed orders but always knew when to adjust for effectiveness or at least that's what a true Mandalorian upbringing had taught him.

The sharp beginning of a new, evidently practiced line drew him from thought. His eyes travelled over the shallow sea of candidates to settle on the speaker, skimming caps as his head refused to move. Testament to the enforced rigidity and discipline of the hopefuls.

Few made the cut, fewer survived the scrutiny lifestyle but only a selection were genuinely ready for the wake up call and Muun considered himself one among that number, even if less zealous that many of his peers. There were no parents here to be coddled by. No mothers to comfort the shivering and no fathers to push the mud-caked. Muun'bajir had long since made cold, muddy nights his speciality. He couldn't help but smirk as his eyes cut left to peer over a younger face.
 
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After the speech, the cadets were given their first command cylinders that carried with them room assignments as well as access to the courtyards. Currently, they were being placed into squads of 4, although eventually this would get expanded over time.

Priscus, Arrick, Kella, and Rook were all assigned to Acklay Squadron. The current condition of the rooms were sparse, with two bunk beds lined with metal and four lockers on the sides. The limited light was styled in the same Imperial fashion as the rest of the campus, but it felt somewhat cold and devoid of any decorations. Before the newcomers could settle in, there would be a peep from behind as an imperial droid appeared along the corridor. It appeared to be an RA-7 protocol droid

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"Acklay Squadron, I am AS-59, I am an RA-7 protocol droid and the Dormitory Resident Assistant Droid for this barracks here on Carida Campus. I am here to notify you of a scheduled training exercise tomorrow at 2100. Before that, you will be given physical training, followed shortly by military theory and other delightful events. Feel free to enjoy the barracks and cantina hall for any sustenance needs before you go to bed. Good luck, cadets."

Now, the cadets had some free time to get to know each other or head to the nearby cantina for some food, although what kind of food or trouble seemed odd.
 
Priscus, relishing the free time, decided he would get to meet his classmates, see if any of them had a taste for his finer goods, which if allowed to enter into the local wilderness, could likely find materials to produce some of them. He was quite an expert in the trade after all.

Still, before that, he would need to get to know his classmates.

After packing his things, Priscus would leave the barracks and head to the cantina hall, where he would wait and see if any of his classmates would enter, only tossing nods and smiles at his classmates or other fellow cadets at the academy.

While waiting for his classmates to show up in the cantina hall, he would attempt to charm, and if needed, bribe his way into a drink and a snack.

"Hello there ma'am, is it possible to get something to drink? We have just arrived and I am quite parched and a little hungry. They told me I could either be here or in my barracks.. so I assume that they meant for me to get food and drink."(Roll 20, Highly Capable in Charisma) Priscus would say to the woman managing the food in one particular part of the cantina.
 
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