fox-1113

[fox-1113]

Deepest apologies.

I'm sorry for my sudden absence and short hiatus from Tumblr. A lot of things in my personal life are not going well and I'm under a lot of stress, not only that but I don't know how to relive it. All I ask is that you are all patient with me and a little understanding if I'm hostile or anything of the sort. Thank all of you -Admin

[fox-1113]

Trapper nodded and sighed with anticipation. As soon as Verra was done with her speech, he turned to her. "I already like your style. I will never understand the ridiculous amounts of casualties that other generals and commanders tend to have. It's not needed." Trapper smiled and chucked a bit under his helmet. "And who doesn't like a free drink?" He pondered for a few moments, thinking if his next question was necessary, let alone relevant. "Not to sound odd but, you seem very familiar to me, have we met?"

fox-1113:

Trapper, being the type of commander he is, turned and faced his men, stomping a foot to signal full attention. He straightened his posture and removed his helmet, tucking it under his arm; he then placed his off hand behind his back. “Gentlemen! As you know, I have hand selected you for this mission. I expect the greatest from all of you. Keep things clean, keep them subtle, and of course, keep each other safe. There is no need for excessive casualties, if any at all.” Trapper turned around and broke posture. “Men, let’s get this done.” After he exclaimed this, the ship began to vibrate and rumble, signaling their departure.

The echani woman listens and watches, nodding softly. She waits until he is done before speaking, her soft voice carrying through the ship. “I will tell you now that this mission is not as important to me as your lives. Keep your heads, listen to your commander, and don’t try to be a damn hero. When we make it back, drinks will be on me, and I expect to be sharing them with each and every one of you. Good hunting, and may the Force be with us all.”

[fox-1113]

Trapper, being the type of commander he is, turned and faced his men, stomping a foot to signal full attention. He straightened his posture and removed his helmet, tucking it under his arm; he then placed his off hand behind his back. "Gentlemen! As you know, I have hand selected you for this mission. I expect the greatest from all of you. Keep things clean, keep them subtle, and of course, keep each other safe. There is no need for excessive casualties, if any at all." Trapper turned around and broke posture. "Men, let's get this done." After he exclaimed this, the ship began to vibrate and rumble, signaling their departure.

fox-1113:

As soon and their hands met, Trapper felt a familiar warmth, one he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Nevertheless, he had to focus on his duty, not his memory. “The pleasure is all mine, General Verra.” Something about her name sparked something deep in his memory as well, but he put it off once more. Trapped nodded briskly as Verra spoke. “Of course, General.” Trapper raised his wrist, pressing a few buttons on his communicator before a holo-map projected in front of them. “Our mission is to drop five clicks behind enemy lines for recon and to open flanking lanes for our ground units.” He pointed out a few important areas and the drop zone before closing the map. “Easy and simple.”

She steps closer to him, studying the map, silver eyes sharp and focused on every detail. “At least the terrain works in our favor this time. It will be slow going, but I will take dense jungle over sand any day.” She gives his shoulder a squeeze before stepping back to take one of the hand holds. “Whenever you’re ready gentlemen, let’s get this done.”

[fox-1113]

As soon and their hands met, Trapper felt a familiar warmth, one he hadn't felt in a very long time. Nevertheless, he had to focus on his duty, not his memory. "The pleasure is all mine, General Verra." Something about her name sparked something deep in his memory as well, but he put it off once more. Trapped nodded briskly as Verra spoke. "Of course, General." Trapper raised his wrist, pressing a few buttons on his communicator before a holo-map projected in front of them. "Our mission is to drop five clicks behind enemy lines for recon and to open flanking lanes for our ground units." He pointed out a few important areas and the drop zone before closing the map. "Easy and simple."

fox-1113:

The proud and proper commander looked over his troops momentarily, doing a quick and precise head-count. As he was finishing up, he wondered where his stand-in for General Yoda was. Just as he finished this thought, he turned to see an elegant looking female board the ship. Trapper stood at attention and saluted his new leader. As soon as the female, that he now knew as Verra, finished introduced herself; Trapper took his helmet off and took to a graceful bow. “Commander Trapper of the 41st Elite Corps, Airborne division.” After finishing his bow, he placed his helmet back on his head and extended a hand in order to shake hers. @silverxhealer

She smiles as she takes his gloved hand in her bare one, callous from years of saber work, in a firm grip. “A pleasure, Trapper.” She was happy he gave her his name and not his number, she will always dislike those numbers. “I am afraid Master Yoda didn’t give me much when he pulled me from healing duty. I assume there is time for a brief before we drop?” Something about him felt familiar, but she didn’t know what. So many men come through her halls it’s hard to keep track of them all.

[fox-1113]

The proud and proper commander looked over his troops momentarily, doing a quick and precise head-count. As he was finishing up, he wondered where his stand-in for General Yoda was. Just as he finished this thought, he turned to see an elegant looking female board the ship. Trapper stood at attention and saluted his new leader. As soon as the female, that he now knew as Verra, finished introduced herself; Trapper took his helmet off and took to a graceful bow. “Commander Trapper of the 41st Elite Corps, Airborne division.” After finishing his bow, he placed his helmet back on his head and extended a hand in order to shake hers. @silverxhealer

She steps aboard the ship with all the ease and grace common of Jedi, her white hair tied back in many braids. She does not wear the traditional robes of the Order, but a tunic wrapped tightly around her torso and tight leggings under a woven armor skirt. She has no other armor but a matching set of bracers of the same material.

She finds the commander and gives him a small bow. “I am Verra, I will be your Jedi for this evening.” She jokes in a light voice, smiling softly.

@fox-1113

[fox-1113]

Commander Trapper

Loading… Complete. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Identification- TR-4131. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Rank- Commander. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Company- 41st Elite Corps. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Branch- Elite Airborne Division. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Looks- Slightly more muscular than other clones, tan, scars pepper his face and body. He sports dark green and white Airborne trooper armor. Three claw marks run from right to left across his helmet and the same pattern running from left to right across his chest-piece. Rather than having the holsters to his DC-17 hand blasters on his kama, he has them on his chest strap. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Personality- Trapper is a well spoken, outgoing trooper. He does have a bit of a bad side, mostly only coming out in very tense moments or battles. Other than that he’s very level headed and calm. He looks death in the face seemingly challenging it. He has fantastic leading abilities and combat awareness, always trying to find alternative strategies. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Other- Trapper started out his career as a pilot, serving in many battles for many factions of the Republic Army. He later got promoted to Airborne Trooper (or Paratrooper) due to his deployment in Geonosis, he successfully landed his nearly-destroyed gunship and held off many advancing droids until medics could come to the aid of his fellow troopers. He then continued to climb the ranks among his peers, saving them many times in the process. Eventually, Commander Gree gave him the honors of leading the 41st Elite Corps Airborne Division on his own.

[fox-1113]

/MUN UPDATE/

(Here’s some information on FX-1113. All illustration, information, and credits in general go to the Mun of @kaz-2562 Honestly I just came up with everything, she put it all to paper. Can’t thank her enough.)

[fox-1113]

Lost in the fog.

The door to the troop transport Fox and his squad were assigned to hadn’t even opened all the way when his first squad-mate, and friend, had fallen. A stray plasma bolt had made it’s way in between the thick door and the haul of the ship and right into the chest of his friend. The last word he uttered were, “Sir… I’m scared to die…” Fox shed tears under his helmet as the trooper died in his arms. Fox grabbed the identification card from the troopers ammo pouch and slid it into his own. That would be far from the last time he did that process.

Fox picked himself up and got his head straight, he leveled his heavy blaster to the door as it continued opening. As soon as the door was leveled with his and his troopers heads, he began laying down heavy covering fire for his squad. As soon as they could, the troopers scrambled out into the forest, taking cover where they could. Although the trees were more than abundant, men still died. Fox started taking slow steps forward, still holding down the trigger on his blaster. One, two, three, four, five… Fox soon lost count of how many rebels he had killed.

Fox was more than far enough away for the troop transport to pull off, but it didn’t. He found this as odd, but pushed forward. Right as that thought ended, one of his troopers, FX-5680, yelled something he wouldn’t soon forget. “Ion torpedo, get down!”

Fox looked up momentarily to see the torpedo miss him by about a foot and go right past him, he turned to watch. His eyes widened in horror as it connected with the transport. As soon as it hit, a defining boom was sent throughout the forest.

“Brace!” Fox yelled. No one had time to even prepare. The transport exploded with violence, sending shrapnel and a strong shockwave in all directions. The half of his squad that were on backfill died instantly from the force of the shockwave, a few more were impaled. Fox had no time to mourn, he turned around to see FX-5680 and his squad getting hammered by artillery. They were behind cover, but still close to the danger. Fox fired in the direction of the artillery, hoping it would at least suppress the enemy. The artillery slowed, Fox sighed in relief, only to stop in shock and horror. A thermal detonator was thrown from somewhere behind the cover right into the center of FX-5680 and his squad. “Glasser!” (5680’s nickname) Fox yelled in horror, he didn’t even have time to finish his sentience as the detonator went off.

Fox fell to his knees, shaking. That was now most of his squad and his best friends dead. Somewhere from the darkness of the forest, a plasma bolt ripped through the right side of his helmet, only millimeters away from his face. The force from the bolt knocked him out.

Fox awoke with a jolt. He tried to look around but couldn’t see anything through his visor. He took his helmet off to see nothing but blood, fire and his dead friends. Fox slowly got up and felt the side of his head, blood stuck to his hand. He sighed and looked at the ground. “Fuck! Fuck my life! Fuck everything!” He yelled as loud as he could. He slowly made his way around the battlefield, repeating the same process he had done before, this time putting every identification card in his helmet.

Fox shook his head out of thought and back to reality. That night had taken place roughly five months ago. He looked up and grabbed the small flare gun he had salvaged from the wreckage and pointed it at the stars. He sighed and shot off his monthly flare. He ran his fingers through his now-long hair. Fox scratched his chin through his beard that had grown from his normally clean-shaven face. He felt like a wookie, living off of wild animals and a pond. All Fox wanted was to go back home to his barracks, shower, shave, and sleep. ((It’s good to be back. Feedback and constructive criticism are welcomed.))