ICE DJ slot

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Kallila Tsarati
Traitor
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ICE DJ slot

Post by Kallila Tsarati » 2010-08-06 11:59

Yes, you heard me, a new DJ slot is being opened. After all, Mai is dead. I guess we have a vacancy. Just note, that this position is for ICE. They will receive training via a holocron, and will be restricted to ICE just like everyone else. Bringing this character over to the main storyline would have to be done with Admin approval only. Of course, you'll get to be the only force user around. Unless of course we encounter some, in which case we'll all be hiding behind you. ^_~

I suppose I'll assist with the training process by RPing as a holocron. Unless Ace has another idea for that. If you already have a DJ character, obviously you are not qualified for this slot. It is technically possible to fill this slot by having an already created DJ switch to ICE. But I figure all the DJ want to stay in the main storyline anyway. I would prefer to open it up to a new player. I know some people have been waiting for this for a long time.

So if you're interested, please submit your bio. Ace and I will be making this selection. No vote this time. Good luck! ^_^

Ahri alTuron
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Re: ICE DJ slot

Post by Ahri alTuron » 2010-08-08 03:12

JT's application.

Name: Tel'Ahri al'Turon
Gender: Human Male
Age: 20
Physical Description: 6' 2'' / 160 lbs / Hair: Brown, cut short / Eyes: Brown / Tall and thin, with a wiry, muscular build.
Location:

Background:
....Processing Request....
....
....
....Access Granted....
....Retrieving Document....
....
ISIS Personnel Records :: Access Level 9 :: Classified
=== Personnel Background: Tel'ahri al'Turon ===
=== Document Type: Private Journal / Audio Journal ===
=== Recovered from Personal Computer: Location - Polneye ===
=== Note: Playback enhanced due to file degradation ===
=Begin Playback=...

You hear a buzz of static, which slowly resolves itself into a voice of a young boy. You can barely make out the faint electronic intonations of a synthesized voice over the boy's. It's not always there, but you can tell from the static that the synthesized voice is translating parts of the recording that would otherwise be inaudible. It's ISIS work, so who knows what the spooks did, but with your level of security it’s not likely to be a fake. Sometimes the synthesized voice translates ambient sounds for you as well – simply interjecting words like “shuffling” or “breathing” as descriptors when things are too distorted to make out – you get used to it quickly enough. As you listen you can almost imagine the boy, alone in his room; somewhere on Polneye. A window must be open. You think you can make out the sound of street traffic against a gritty wind – but then it may just be the static.

“…tano in the market today. We had skipped out of our afternoon classes again. Basai will probably give Derryn a tongue lashing tomorrow…not me though.” The computer tells you the boy is laughing softly, but you’re not so sure – it sounds too hollow to be happy. “We were eating lunch and just…just watching the people go by. I’ve always love watching people in the market, always wondering where they’re from, where they’re going. Derryn’s always making fun of the aliens, but I think he’s bored too. Light…this place. It’s always felt like…like walls closing in on me. I always thought that if I had the opportunity I’d just…escape.” [Shuffling] “And now…now that…” The computer tells you that the boy is laughing again, softly. But you think his voice might have been cracking there at the last – cracking like a stiff board under too much pressure. You think you can hear him catching his breath again after a moment. “So…we were in the market eating lunch – just sitting there – when these two men came up to us and asked if they could join us. One of them looked like he was only old enough to be just out of the academy, maybe younger. But it was the older guy who did most of the talking anyway. He said his name was Elyas Trak, the older man, and the other man was Bayle Valon, his apprentice.” For once the boy did sound like he was chuckling, but you doubt there is any real mirth beneath it. “Derryn must have thought they looked odd in those robes too – it was warmer today, even with the dust – but they didn’t seem to mind. I never would have guessed…”

The static gets more intense, but you don’t think he was cut off. The boy may have just paused. You wait for a few moments, listening to the oscillations and low churning of static. You begin to wonder if there’s anything more, just as the computer finally speaks up. It tells you that somewhere in all that static, the boy is moving around the room. If he’s saying anything you certainly can’t hear it, and the computer doesn’t suggest anything more. When you finally hear the boy’s voice again, he begins almost where he left off – leaving you’re uncertain if anything was lost during the silent gap.

“I at least expected father to…to…do something. Say something maybe.” The boy sounds like he’s closer now. The computer tells you part of the noise is the sound of him breathing. You can almost the ragged flutter of his slow breath. “They said it was my choice though, if I wanted to go. Derryn…he didn’t know what to say. Didn’t say a word the whole way back…he just…just kept looking at me. I don’t know why he’d be upset. It’s not like I asked for this. I thought that at least…at least dad would finally…” He doesn’t finish the sentence.

The computer tells you the boy is crying, and though you can’t exactly hear it, you know he sounds tired, drawn out, frustrated. Only twenty years old – barely enough to be considered an adult – and you can hear the struggle of emotions in his voice. The classified restriction tells you that the ISIS spooks thought this moment in the boy’s life was important, but it’s the quick, ragged breathing, the sharp rasping with each forced breath, that tells you how significant this moment was to the boy. It lasts less than a minute, just enough time for him to find his words again. You can still hear a tremble in his voice, but not from uncertainty, surely not from doubt. A tremble as the boy struggles to force down his emotions, but his voice is like cold steel.

“I will do it. If only because he doesn’t…because I have to get out of here. I will go.”

The static cuts out as the recording ends, and the computer brings up the next Journal entry – the last apparently. The record indicates that it was made about a week and a half after the previous entry. As you begin the playback, you hear the same static background noise as before. It doesn’t seem quite as bad this time, and you think it might be because the window is closed; though you have no way of knowing if the boy is even in the same room as before, so it hardly matters.

“I’ve been looking forward to this day for almost two weeks now…now it’s finally time.” The boy sounds harder somehow, but under it you can almost hear a resignation in his voice. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected father to try and stop me…only…” [Sighing] “He’ll never change, and I shouldn’t expect him to I guess. Old man never has bothered with anything besides his work. Work and his books. It doesn’t matter though...not anymore. Elyas…Master Trak – I’ll have to get used to that – told me that one of the hardest things for most is leaving behind their family. ‘It’s not just going away for awhile’ he said, ‘You have to give them up completely.’ I think there’s supposed to be a difference there…maybe there is for most. He told me to think about it before I made my decision – I tried to tell him I had thought about it, but he wouldn’t hear my answer until yesterday. I think he’ll probably ask me again before we leave…I think he expects me to feel something…some ‘reticence’ maybe. But I don’t feel…anything…” You think you hear disappointment in the boy’s voice. When he speaks again, his voice seems filled with a grim satisfaction. But you think his words sound hollow, touching a feeling of loss. “Not a damn thing.”

Out of Character Information:
E-mail Address: GreyRaven499@yahoo.com
Contact Info: E-mail
How did you find out about us?: This is JT

Ahri alTuron
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Re: ICE DJ slot

Post by Ahri alTuron » 2010-08-08 03:13

Example post 1:

"Ken, you try talking some sense into him."

Ahri shot Rey a frustrated glance, "Listen, I'm not trying to start an argument with you, I'm just asking a question." Ahri had only known Kenneth and Rey for a few weeks, but the three of them seemed to get along well enough at the academy. Kenneth was a few years older than both of them, and had been there the longest, while Rey had only been there a few months and was two years younger than Ahri.

"But you're not just asking questions Ahri, you're challenging the principle." Ken spoke with a calmness that was sometimes bothersome. He almost made logic seem like a degenerative disease.

"Alright, maybe I am challenging it, but is that really wrong? No idealism should ever serve as a rule in practical application." Ahri had made this argument before, but no one seemed as interested in refuting it as they were admonishing the question itself.

Rey rolled his eyes, but Kenneth pressed on softly. "And why not Ahri? If cannot let ideals serve as guides to proper action, then what are they good for? What do we use as a guide in their place?"

Finally, a real question. "Ideals are abstract notions, their ultimates. Absolutes. Good, justice, harmony. Ideals are only useful as motives, not guides. We want to be good, so we try to be good. We want justice, so we try to be just. But ideals cant tell us how to act in a given situation."

"Alright then, what if you're in a situation where a criminal has a knife to your fathers throat. He tells you to surrender or he kills your father. How do you decide?"

Rey chimed in before Ahri could answer, "We're supposed to be protectors, not aggressors, so I would try to prevent him from killing my father." He said confidently.

"That's a silly anecdote, Ken. Put the question to yourself, if you were in that situation would you stop and ask yourself 'What is the 'Good' choice?' No, because in that situation - like every situation - good and bad depend on the context, they depend on us and our perspectives."

"A fair point, but that doesn't mean that there isn't a best option. Even if you can't reach an ideal, you can still strive for it." Ken said cooly.

"Of course we strive for ideals, but that doesn't mean they direct our choices. It's all relative."

Rey was getting visibly frustrated again; he seemed to take things too personally sometimes, and Ahri hadn't figured out why. "It's about as relative as Light and Dark Ahri, good and evil. It's either one or the other. Even if there's a gray area, you're still leaning towards one side or the other."

Ken turned back to Ahri, "Alright Ahri, even if I agree with you up to this point, what does it have to do with the code? The code is a set of perspectives, not absolutes."

"True, they define what a 'Jedi' is in terms of what they...we...do, how we view things. But their based on absolutes, and I just think it's misguided."

Ken and Rey both scoffed a bit at that, "Ahri, what about the code do you think is misguided? Jedi's are protectors, servants of the galaxy, seekers of knowledge and understanding, and we respect all life. How is that misguided?"

Ahri grimaced and turned away from his companions. He didn't really have a good answer, not the kind they were looking for anyway. "Why do Jedi dedicate themselves to these things, why do they take these positions? If we are servants, then who do we serve and why do we serve them? Maybe I was challenging before Ken, but now I'm only asking a question."

Kenneth was cool as always, but concern was in his voice. "Ahri, we serve the galaxy because we're accountable to it. Jedi have a great deal of personal power, and we act as servants so that we don't misuse that power. We stay unbiased by serving, rather than ruling. I thought you would know that."

"I remember from class Ken, but that doesn't really answer my question." Ahri sighed, trying to find the right words while Rey made some disparaging remark. "What I meant was, how do we account for the motives of those we serve? If we're to take on this great responsibility, how can we justify taking anything but direct action? What if by serving, we only put power into the hands of those who would misuse it?"

"That is why a Jedi stands outside of all allegiances." Ahri jumped right along with Ken and Rey at the new voice. "Kenneth, Rey'am, could I have a private word with Tel'Ahri please?" Ken and Rey glanced at Ahri with a worried glance; both bowed and left quietly. "Your instructors tell me you like to ask questions Ahri, and I see they were right."

Ahri recognized the man from Polyneye, he was one of Elyas...Master Trak's apprentices, Bayle Valon. "I don't mean to cause any trouble, but...well I just cant accept a rule that I don't see the reason too. Especially not one I'm supposed to live my entire life by."

Valon smiled, he wasn't much older than Ahri and he didn't yet have that stony calm that most Jedi had, Ahri had come to like him though he rarely saw him since arriving at the academy. "You're wise not to Ahri. If we blindly followed rules, without trying to understand the purpose to them, we'd only end up betraying their original intention. Don't worry about asking questions Ahri, but realize that we've all asked those questions at one time or another, and some of the smartest people I know have set their life by Jedi code because of the value they hold."

Ahri only nodded, Valon was surely right. He had only been here a short time, and in truth he could not find fault with the Jedi code, but still he questioned it, if only because he didn't want to be ruled by something he didn't agree with. "Thank you Bayle. I suppose patience is a valuable virtue." Ahri always seemed to relax around him, he had an uncanny way of putting people at ease.

"However, your inquisitiveness is not why I'm here. Master Trak asked me to check up on you after your last...attempt."

Ahri's eyes drifted away from Bayle. He must have looked frustrated. "Ahri, not every potential has the ability to master the training necessary to direct the force. I know you must be disappointed, but you've only just started down this path. It takes time, and as you said, patience."

"It's not that Bayle, I am patient. But I just don't understand sometimes. I've been doing everything the instructors said to do, it just never...turns out right." His frustration was coming out in his voice now. He tried vainly to push his thoughts away, that Jedi serenity was still a long way off to be sure - Ahri gave up after a few tries; later, he'd meditate later.

Bayle chuckled a bit, which brought Ahri's attention back to him, "Yes, I've heard that so far you've almost burned a feather. And managed to singe a table top."

"Heh, I was supposed to move the feather. Instead it just started smoking." Ahri gave Bayle a disparaging smile, "I don't think they knew what to make of that."

"Don't worry Ahri. Patience. Patience."

Ahri alTuron
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Re: ICE DJ slot

Post by Ahri alTuron » 2010-08-08 03:14

Example Post 2:


Leaning back in his chair, Ahri rubbed his eyes. Six hours, almost. He'd spent an entire week studying Galactic History, though mostly the history of the Jedi and the order. It was boring work, but at least it was something. Yeah, something boring. Ahri shook the thought from his head, boring or no, this is what his instructors thought was best. It's still boring.

Ahri pushed himself up from his desk with a frustrated grunt. He didn't mind doing tedious work, he just wanted it to mean something. As far as he could tell the instructors had sent him down here because no one could figure out what to do with him. He was sure they didn't want to admit it to him though. At first he had thought that maybe he was doing something wrong, somehow skipping some important step. But when they brought in a Knight to observe, even he had been confused. That was disconcerting. A bit frightening really. He needed some fresh air.

Stepping outside, Ahri breathed a tired sigh. Speeders and other vehicles whipped by the tower, not forty meters away from him. Their passage kicked up gusts of wind that carried with it the noises and smells of the massive city. Those smells were the first thing that had struck Ahri when he first arrived on the city world, though he'd have never thought a smell would be so striking. Not that it was a bad smell, just different. Very different from Polneye. Sitting down on a small outcropping, Ahri leaned back against the building and closed his eyes, letting his mind drift. He found himself thinking about his trip here, talking with Master Trak and Valon. He thought about meeting Kenneth and Rey for the first time, they were arguing about something - but he couldn't remember what it was. Probably something stupid, like always. His smile faded as his thoughts drifted to his family. To his father. Mercifully, the wind carried a conversation to him and he looked to find the source before his mind drifted any further.

At first he didn't know what to make of the pair walking towards him. The robbed man on the right was a Jedi if his robes were any indication, and he seemed to be listening with the same kind of meditative concern that Master Trak had when they first met. But the man on the left...A white cloak clasped just below his right shoulder whipped around behind the figure every time a vehicle flew past. Though it seemed like the man hardly noticed at all. Odd, something about the stranger seemed masculine, though he was almost completely covered by some sort of blackish suit. Even the stranger's face and hands were covered. Whatever he was wearing, it seemed to be made all of one piece, and it moved with him like it was part of his skin. It looked like something a soldier might wear, but it certainly wasn't armor. And the mask wasn't like anything he'd seen before. Solid and smooth, it completely covered his face. Ahri couldn't see how the man could see through it but he didn't move like he was blind.

As they got closer, Ahri picked up a bit of their conversation. He caught himself from leaning closer - he certainly didn't want to be caught eavesdropping, and grimaced at the thought of the what the Jedi's reaction might be. The Jedi was mostly listening, so it must have been the stranger Ahri was hearing, but the mask obstructed any view of his face.

"...uth I was getting fed up with the internal politics. Like I told the Council, I still agree with their cause, but I refuse to let them use me as a sacrificial lamb." They paused at the entrance to the library, barely close enough for Ahri to hear.

"I can understand your feelings, though I'm sure you understand that we cannot trust you completely, not yet."

"I do not expect you to trust me, but while I do not fully agree with the methods of the Jedi, I have a great deal of respect for your Order. Like you, I followed a personal code of honor, and I do not mean to compromise it now."

The Jedi considered the man for a moment in silence, but he seemed to approve of the stranger. "Abd al'Hasan, that is a very interesting name."

"It is a very old name, Master Jedi. And I am true to it, if but in my own way."

With that, the two moved into the library, out of hearing. After a few moments of silent debating, Ahri followed them - against his better judgement. The image of having either man turn and find him in tow kept him from getting close enough to hear their conversation again. But it was clear from the way the man in the white cloak was gesturing that they were still talking. Ahri maneuvered carefully, so that if they should ever turn around he would be ready to occupy himself with something nearby. But they never did turn, in fact Ahri wasn't sure either of them had much concern for anyone else they encountered. But the way the stranger was dressed didn't speak of openness - or friendliness for that matter. What he was doing here, and what his relationship was with the Jedi, though, was rather curious.

It was not too long before they finally stopped at a terminal in the Records section. Even more perplexing, the stranger set right to work at the terminal - whatever he was there for, he knew right where to find it. The Jedi - the stranger had called him a master, but Ahri had never seen him before - seemed just as intent on what was being displayed, but merely watched as the other man worked. Ahri busied himself at another terminal while keeping watch out of the corner of his eye. He was close enough to hear them now, but several minutes passed before either of them spoke, and it was the stranger who broke the silence.

"Ahh, here he is."

"This is him? A corporate consultant? Isn't that out of character for him?"

"You forget, this man has managed to infiltrate two world governments, and multiple military organizations without raising any suspicion. If these records are any indication, my estimates of his reach are still inaccurate. It seems I may have underestimated him yet again."

"Surely though, a man like this couldn't be working alone. If what you said was true, then he must have a vast network of accomplices."

"Oh, I'm sure he does. The fact that he's managed to move as freely as he has is evidence enough. But I've never tracked down anyone who has ever been close enough to know him well. He's very good at covering his tracks."

"I see, but now that you know he was here, what do you intend to do?"

The stranger said nothing for a moment, and when he finally spoke there was something grave in his voice, "Something unexpected."

The nameless master watch the stranger with concern in his eyes. Ahri doubted the Jedi liked being left in the dark, but the stranger had spoken with a finality that left no room for further discussion. Suddenly the stranger rose, and Ahri quickly busied himself at his terminal as the two turned to leave. He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt someone grip his shoulder, and realized the stranger had stopped behind him.

"Curiosity can serve a man well, but if you are not careful it will get you into a great deal of trouble." Ahri swallowed, when he turned he was staring up into the featureless mask of the stranger, with the Jedi Master looking none too pleased over his shoulder. He managed a convincing apology and tried to look abashed - not that it was difficult, he'd probably never hear the end of this.

"I think you had best return to your studies Initiate. If it's alright with you Hasan, I think we can over look this incident for now." The Abd al'Hasan, the stranger - only nodded. "Then we'll trust that the next time you want to involve yourself in the affairs of others, you'll have thought through the consequences first." The look from the Jedi made Ahri want to crawl into a hole, but the two men turned and left without so much as another word to him. He breathed for what felt like the first time in hours, and didn't bother watching them go.

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Moira Drakengard
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Re: ICE DJ slot

Post by Moira Drakengard » 2010-08-08 04:02

Name: Moira Drakengard

Rank: Initiate

Age: Going on 17/18ish (in the words of the young woman, "None of your business.")

Gender: Female

Physical Description: She is 5’ 4”, about 160 pounds. Silver white eyes and silver white hair.

Lightsabre: Unknown, hasn't been built yet . Eventually she will probably dual wield with two lightsabers, one silvery white, one black or two blue Hoth crystals.

Weapon(s) of Choice: As listed in the bio.

Location: : anywhere needed for story purposes.

Primary Aspect: Unknown at this time

Secondary Aspect: Unknown at this time

Bio: viewtopic.php?f=20&t=444


Example Post: viewtopic.php?f=34&t=863
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"Stupidity is, by far, the greatest destructive force in the history of mankind."

Xanis Sorannan
Vice-Admiral
Vice-Admiral
Posts: 114
Joined: 2008-03-26 18:51
Custom Title: Third Fleet Executive Officer
Organizational Unit: NIF Third Fleet - NSD Lusankya
Location: NIFSS NSD Lusankya
Contact:

Re: ICE DJ slot

Post by Xanis Sorannan » 2010-08-08 04:34

Maybe I can actually get a Dark Jedi spot this time, haha. Anyways, here goes try number I-forgot-how-many-times-I've-done-this!

On a complete side-note...this whole storyline seems quite like Stargate Universe, so I will quite likely be writing with lots of inspiration from there for how a permanent separation from one's own galaxy affects one's psyche.

Important Note: As in the bio, he has attained the Navy rank of Commander. As Dark Jedi no longer do double-duty with other departments as it were, this rank would most likely be disregarded and could be done away with by one of many methods, but as part of the ICE storyline I see that it could provide an important position as a military liason specialist on sensors as well as the expedition's stationed Dark Jedi who would no doubt serve on the council of the expedition in some regard. His ranks would progress along the Dark Jedi scale and Naval rank would hold no real effect as he is in fact a sensor officer and not a ship commander.

:: Basic Information ::

Name: Iaex Larek
Rank: Initiate
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Age: 25


:: Physical Description ::

Height: 1.83 meters
Weight: 75 kilograms
Build: Lean and muscular.
Hair Color: Green
Eye Color: Brown
Notable Marks / Features: None


:: Mental Description ::

Personality: Iaex is amazingly intelligent and inquisitive, possessing a strong sense of adventure. He does not drink often, feeling that it unnecessarily dulls the senses as he prefers to remain alert in all situations as a result of his upbringing on the frontier. He has good survival instincts, and is an avid reader and conversationalist, commonly known by his fellow officers and crewmembers as a friend and trusted confidant.


:: Force Description ::

Primary Aspect: Unknown.
Secondary Aspect: Unknown.
Master(s): None.
Student(s): None.
Force Powers Learned: None yet.


:: Weapons ::

Lightsabre: None Currently.
Preferred Ranged Weapons: BlasTech DL-30 Compact Blaster Pistol.
Preferred Melee Weapons: Vibroknife.


:: Posessions ::

Vehicles / Ships: None Currently.
Weapons: 1 BlasTech DL-30 Compact Blaster Pistol, 2 Vibroknives.
Personal Items: Small gold pendant from his grandfather that he wears for good luck.


Location: ICE Mother Devastator Mk II, Task Force ICE


Biography: In the midst of the Great Jedi Purge, there were those who were killed in the first stages before anyone knew what was going on, and then there were those who were summarily killed in the intense hunting of the years after that. In all of the chaos taking place around the time that the Old Republic was crumbling and Palpatine was making his declarations of a Galactic Empire, the parents of Iaex Larek managed to slip away amidst the chaos to the little-known regions of the Outer Rim near the Unknown Regions, where they remained in hiding, so well as to even settle down and start a family.

Living at the very fringes of society was not an easy way of life, and the harsh conditions drew together what few settlers were willing to brave the dangers for the possible great rewards that were seldom, if ever attained, in the form of a vast mineral deposit, or discovering a new hyperspace route to somewhere that anyone actually wanted to go. The Larek family in these circumstances settled upon starting a small shipping business to send supplies from planet to planet, and whatever strange finds were made back to civilization.

Iaex himself was always a key part to these trips, as he often went with whichever parent took the ship out, and learned the ins and outs of operating the vessel, which was the subject of frequent breakdowns and occasional close encounters with anomalies or marauders. Through all of this, he managed to become an extremely skilled sensor operator and a passable mechanic and pilot of the ship, as he was not often sent to the task of manning the turret of the double-laser cannon mounted on the hull of the ship.

By the age of 17, Iaex was occasionally entrusted with short journeys on his own in the ship, but the lanes he had traveled his whole life brought little appeal to him, and he yearned for adventure beyond his everyday life which was surprisingly more than any normal citizen of the galaxy ever experienced. Aware of his Force sensitivity and wary of the attention it could bring him, his parents informed him that the stories they had told of their past were very true, and that in the greater expanse of the galaxy it was quite likely he could face adversity if it became known to the wrong people. Warning him to be careful and write often, they allowed him to attend the New Imperial Federation Naval Academy where he graduated at the top of his class and was assigned to First Fleet aboard the DeepSpace-class Sensor Ship Oblique as a sensor officer, where his immense talent with sensor equipment grew extensively and he was deep-selected for promotion to Lieutenant.

Coming to the attention of the ISIS representatives in the fleet, he was approached about a transfer to Task Force Omniscient to take advantage of his talents to the fullest. In submitting the application for transfer, Iaex received glowing reviews from his superiors on the Oblique and was assigned to the DeepSpace-class Sensor Ship Equinox in Task Force Omniscient where he got the opprotunity to work with the best analysts in the ISIS in addition to having the best sensor equipment in the galaxy at his fingertips. With such favorable conditions, he was soon promoted to Lieutenant-Commander and his skill with sensor equipment brought him to the attention of the Vice Director General of the ISIS, who had him appointed as a sensor specialist on the Echo-class Cruiser Sonar, where he was once again deep-selected for promotion to the rank of Commander and had established himself not only as one of the most skilled sensor operators in the New Imperial Federation, but also as a trusted analyst of sensor data, often having an uncanny intuition into the meaning of readings before the computers could even be sure what to make of some readings.

During a briefing before the Director General and Vice Director General of the ISIS, his Force sensitivity was detected by Crystala Endivain. In the time immediately following the meeting, she informed the Vice Director General of Iaex' special talent, and at Saarael's suggestion the recently-promoted Commander Larek was recommended to the Emperor as a candidate for the upcoming Intergalactic Campaign Expedition as not only a highly qualified and skilled sensor operator and analyst, but also as a possible Dark Jedi who could accompany the mission and - in light of his pioneering early years - he was selected by the recommendation of the ISIS and his name was added to the roster of ICE personnel.

Several weeks later, as the preparations for the ICE were coming to completion, Iaex was approached by the head of the expedition, as well as by his ISIS superiors who had recommended him, and he was informed of the position open to him. Delighted at the possibilities the expedition would offer him, and surprised at the fact that his Force sensitivity had been detected, he accepted the mission as a fulfillment of his life's dreams and requested permission to inform his parents of his new posting.

Amid all of the high security and secrecy of the operation, permission was difficult to come by, but eventually he was given leave to visit his home one more time where, along with an IntOrg Officer, his parents were sworn to secrecy and he told them the news that he would be leaving the galaxy to explore into the vast reaches of the universe where no one had ever gone. In a bittersweet moment, his father gave him the golden pendant which had been passed through the family as a good luck charm and his parents wished him well on his journey - sad to see their son for what may be the last time, but immensely proud to see him realize his dreams in a way none could ever have imagined.

Returning to the NIF proper, Iaex arranged for his military pension to be sent to his parents and underwent the final stages of preparing for the mission, and was given several lessons of first instruction in the ways of the Force, in addition to being given a host of training materials, manuscripts, and a holocron, with which to continue his training in the Force as he left the galaxy for parts unknown.


Out of Character Information:
E-mail Address: XanisSorannan@Gmail.com
Contact Info: Get Ibby to hunt me down on Facebook, hah.
How did you find out about us?: You can find this story in Xanis' bio!
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Jubar Bavvet
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Re: ICE DJ slot

Post by Jubar Bavvet » 2010-08-09 00:52

Name: Cidan Himmibi (Cidanhi’mmibi)

Species: Twi’lek

Profession: Cultural anthropologist

Height: 1.7 meters tall

Weight: 80 kg.

Physical Description: Lean in good shape, with light green skin, his tchun (left lekku) is noticeably longer than his tchin (right lekku)

Age: 31

Vehicles: Currently None

Weapons: Currently None

Bio:
Cidan Himmibi is the son of banished Twi’leki politician Horahi’mmibi, who lost his official Twi’lek name after a political scandal involving helping a friend of his in a bit of art fraud—to secure a 4,000,000CR personal loan, he and his friend, working as a fence, used pieces of art owned by others as security by providing phony documents to make it appear as though he and his family owned the art. As was typical in shamed Twi’lek culture, his father lost the “connectivity” of his name, and was henceforth called “Hora Himmibi.”

Cidan’s father opened a few businesses outside of Ryloth, all of which failed, but managed to get Cidan through school. Cidan never knew a life where his name possessed the connectivity to his Twi’lek heritage. Forced into the usual subservient roles of his people, Cidan and his family did whatever it took to stay afloat—his mother’s beauty helped out as she became a dancer, much to the shame of Cidan’s father.

As servants to various officials, the family got around the galaxy, and the constant travel sparked Cidan’s interest in the sharp contrasts between cultures, and yet at the same time he began to notice the similarities that kept them all working, a certain level of cooperation that was necessary for cohesion. Before he ever knew what the words meant, he was on his way to becoming a cultural anthropologist.

At the age of 15, Cidan’s IQ was tested at 167, and he had already shown a terrific ability for the mastering of many languages—by the time he reached college age, Cidan was already a polyglot, and, in fact, at times it seemed that it wasn’t so much that he learned the languages fast as it was he sensed what the intended meaning was behind even the most convoluted of foreign accents. This aided him immensely in his grasping of the languages, somehow being able to connect with foreigners in ways that few others could. Not only that, but Cidan seemed to inherit his father’s ability to coerce many people to a more satisfying resolution when he wasn’t even sure exactly what was being said—his linguistic instructors told Cidan that he had “uncanny ability.”

In typical Twi'lek fashion, to master one thing, such as communication, meant he must at least master a few others, no matter how irrelevant. His mother had placed him in tea ceremony classes, while his father enrolled him in Feyn-Juk classes, which focused on grappling between creature of various sizes. It was all meant to cultivate a better personality for him, to make him a highly sought-after servant, efficient and in control of himself, so as to fetch a higher price and aid the family further.

His parents saw enough potential in him that they encouraged his interests, and they had pushed him to be a better communicator so as to rise into the higher paid positions of servant work—however, numerous conversations with his father, who had once been a politician, had made him far better at negotiation and communication than any of them had imagined, and, much to their disapproval, he did not immediately enter the workforce to help the family fund. Instead, Cidan pursued anthropology.

Anthropology, a word in Basic that had once meant only the study of humanity, had its origins in natural science, the humanities, and social science. Cidan’s travels with his parents and their employers had made him keenly aware of this study, even if he hadn’t known he was doing it all along. He studied day and night for six years, and took in the four major fields in anthropology: archaeology, linguistic anthropology, physical (or biological) anthropology, and cultural anthropology. Of those fields, the one he chose to specialize in was cultural.

Cultural anthropology is more of a holistic study of cultures. It examines culture as a meaningful scientific concept. Cidan studied the many serious cultures throughout history, from the culture of his own people to the cultures of recluse Wookiee tribes on Kashyyyk. He studied their economies (and was astonished to discover that, yes, even Wookiees have economies of their own). Cidan studied at the University of Ketaris, which had been recovering from the outbreak of the Clone Wars and the recession caused by that area, because that particular university had been renowned for its courses in xenoarchaeology, geology, and anthropology. For his major thesis, Cidan collected data about the impact of global economic and political processes on Naboo with the local cultural realities during the last days of the Old Republic.

The opening lines of his thesis were eventually etched in stone above a greeting sign at the university’s new entrance. It reads: “Culture, indeed civilization itself, must be taken with a wide, ethnographic sense of community and importance. It is an intricate structure, built on morals, knowledge, belief, art, tradition, customs, and all the myriad habits collected by a creature as a member of its society. We must respect that intricate structure, and never be afraid to pick it apart, study it, and see ourselves within it.”

Cidan was already considered a master ahead of his peers when he wrote this piece, and it even attracted the attention of Nulla, his soon-to-be wife, who was an archaeologist at the University of Coruscant. But it wasn’t until his analytical study of the Jedi and Sith cultures that he drew his greatest audience.

The essay he wrote was lengthy, and centered in on the role of Jedi Masters as parental figures over their Padawan learners, and how a family system had seemed to emerge from that practice that created such fierce loyalty that a Jedi could remain “away from home,” and without any contact to his/her masters, and with no fear of them going rogue, running away, or vanishing to the dark side. The complete trust that the Jedi had in one another, he felt, had been their undoing. Conversely, the competiveness that was bred into the apprentices of the Sith showed great tenacity for the perpetuation of their culture, and these apprentices (children) had obviously proven far more resourceful, and considerably more patient down through the centuries.

Cidan’s essay ultimately showed that, no matter what sort of society you were looking at, they did in fact pass through all the same stages of development. Ethnologists always argued about this, because they have always had a special interest in why people living in different parts of a planet (or many times in different parts of the galaxy) often had similar beliefs and practices, but ethnologists often differed on why exactly that was. Cidan’s explanation for this consistency was simple: the Force.

The Force explained everything. Whatever it was, however it existed, the Force had obviously brought great life to the galaxy, making it teem with life—and if the Force could be agreed to be the essential component to all thought (which was up for debate, of course, but Cidan believed it was true), then the Force as the only constant between sentient creatures was the most likely candidate for the source of uniformity, or at least near uniformity in all cultures, no matter how far apart. Like the principle known as “Jikki’s Razor”—the simplest explanation is usually the correct one.

The Force could be both a scientific and metaphysical study, not to mention psychological and philosophical studies. But few now would refute that it existed—holo-recordings of Jedi and Sith clearly demonstrated feats far beyond the capacity of the known races. So, since the Force seemed to be everywhere, in every culture, permeating everything, Cidan argued that it must be the cohesion that “spawns” all the creatures in question, the Force itself being residual in the blood, in the very atoms of the body, thus the uniformity of all life, no matter how diverse it appeared outwardly.

This would also explain the fact that so many groups appeared to pass through the exact same stages of cultural evolution. And, nowhere was a study of the Force so closely attached to a society more evident than in Jedi and Sith culture. Any “balance” or “imbalance” in the Force, as described in old texts and so-called prophecies given by the masters seemed to portend a coming shift in the balance (in one direction or another) for the galaxy at large. So, using them as an obvious tool for showing the relationship between all cultures, Cidan identified the defining features of the Jedi and Sith cultures, twins and yet opposites, to reveal the adequacies and inadequacies of our approach to understanding the galaxy, and indeed, the universe beyond our galaxy.

In his essay, Cidan demonstrated that, since the Sith were said to have once been a race (the word “Sith” being the name of that race), their society must have been a fierce and competitive one, as opposed to the society that the Jedi emerged from. After all, the cornerstone of cultural anthropology was that creatures always acquired a culture through the learning processes of enculturation and socialization, revealing why it was that people living in different places and/or different circumstances developed different cultures. However, since history had shown time and again that cultures tended to explode once a powerful new concept (especially a religious one) came onto the scene, only to diffuse with time in the wake of rebellion against it, bringing a kind of period that Cidan described as a “self-parody” period before reaching equilibrium, Cidan believed that the Sith race had been far more violent than any other historian had ever imagined.

To support his claim that the Sith had once been uncomprehendingly vicious, Cidan pointed to ancient scrolls and holocrons that seemed to discuss in bits and pieces practices of forced service that the Sith race favored, and hints of planetary destruction that, if true, would put the Death Star’s brief exploits to shame. Cidan went further, discussing Emperor Palpatine in his essay, saying that this “endpoint” in the Sith’s “near resurgence” demonstrated what happened after the diffusing of an established cultural idea. To the utter disbelief of many, Cidan put Palpatine as the “final straw” of the Sith self-parody period, and what followed next, he argued, was the time of equilibrium.

The Jedi had returned, and at the time that he wrote his essay, a handful of reports had come in about so-called “Dark Jedi” spotted throughout the galaxy. Cidan predicted this as a time for “burying the hatchet” between Sith and Jedi alike, saying that it was time, whether they wanted it or not, whether they knew it or not, that this “force” behind the universe would call for equilibrium. It was time for peace at last. Self-parody was over for both, and Cidan predicted a final and long-lasting armistice, saying that the bloody conflicts of old between the two great cultures would never again arise—he predicted there would be conflicts, but nothing the likes of which had been seen before.

It was said that Emperor Kane himself had read that piece, and found it so fascinating that he requested an audience with Cidan. Cidan wasn’t sure if the emperor had truly read that piece or not, or if someone else had brought the topic to his attention, but he knew that his parents had gotten to be respected servants to numerous Moffs in their time—their work had taken them all over NIF space. Combined with his father’s political savvy and old political contacts, Cidan was found whilst out in the field studying ancient Sith artifacts on Korriban, years after he had written that essay and had it published, and a meeting with Kane was arranged.


* * *


The interview was held aboard the ESD Nemesis, and it was short, consisting of barely more than a bow to Emperor Kane and a quick question-and-answer session where Cidan was put on the spot, feeling awkward as he was asked to describe what he would do if he were to ever encounter a completely new and intelligent species that had never been recorded in galactic history. One question at a time, he made his case, describing the great care that would be necessary for such an encounter.

“The psychology of the people would have to be ascertained, of course,” he said. “For that, you would need an incredibly sophisticated xenobiologist and xenopsychologist. But psychology is and always has been notoriously prone to intellectual fashions, so there would need to be a bit of brainstorming beforehand, to design the optimal composition of a first-encounter team that would help the xenopsychologist make appropriate contact with this alien person or race, just so there were no misunderstandings about the goals of the first-encounter team. You’d need particularly stable individuals to be on such a team. A xenopsychologist as leader, as I said, and one who has had experience with indigenous Level 5 civilizations on places like Endor or Myrkr—Level 5 civilizations being those that reap no benefits, and suffer no drawbacks, from their disconnect from greater society, and typically don’t even know it exists.

“You would also need an astrophysicist with focus on planetary geology, a mathematician and/or logician, a zoologist with a hefty background in biochemistry, and a Jedi or Sith. The primary contact team would need to be five or less, since any more than that usually creates panic, malcontent, and lack of clearly defined leadership in such a group—certainly armed guards could go with them, but they must possess no speaking roles, and be prepared to take orders from academics and not army lieutenants or generals. You would need the team to be cohesive, communicative, and willing to bend to others when it comes to matters outside of their expertise.”

The emperor had given a moment of pause before asking one last question. “You said a Sith or Jedi should go along with such a team. Why?”

Cidan licked his lips and said, “Well, just about any and all contingencies will need to be planned on, and a plan will need to be sussed out to deal with each one as they emerge. A xenopsychologist should be on-site, for instance, because of the trauma that would likely befall this alien people if we are the first aliens they’ve ever seen, or if we are only the first of our kind that they’ve ever seen. Stress and anxiety are now popularly held as a purely biochemical disorder, which would mean it could be treated by drug therapy alone—I think we need someone more sophisticated than a psychologist who just wants to give the aliens a pill. We would need a xenopsychologist who could think on their feet, negotiate, and meet the aliens halfway. Mass panic on their population’s behalf could not be solved with pills. You see? A specialist there to solve the problem. Same thing with a Force-user, Your Highness, except this person would be there for our protection as much as theirs.”

“Explain more plainly, professor,” Kane said.

Cidan nodded. “Certainly, Your Highness. In short, what if these aliens can read our minds?” He shrugged. “Not very likely, I know, but what if they could? What if they have developed sensitivity to the Force, as well? How could we prepare a successful negotiating posture if they could read our minds? Or what if they possess the ability to control normal sentient beings with powerful pheromones, such as the Falleen species could do? We would need a person trained to be outside of such influences, would we not?”

Emperor Kane looked at him at length, and then looked slightly off to his left, pondering. “Would you have any in mind for such an expedition?” he asked, looking back at Cidan.

Jedi?” Cidan asked. He shrugged. “I’ve only met a handful of adepts in my life, Your Highness. No masters of considerable power. Associates of mine have interviewed numerous Jedi during their tenure at the University of Coruscant, but the interviews are always short and, quite frankly, enigmatic. Nothing is concrete with the Force, but, then, from what I've seen, that appears to be the nature of the Force itself.”

“Have you ever noted any sensitivity within yourself?”

“For the Force?” Cidan chuckled. “No, Your Highness.” He looked at the emperor for a moment, total silence passing between them. Should I have? Cidan thought to himself. What exactly is he asking me?

The emperor had made a slight wince. Was he almost smiling, or was he offended by something that the doctor had said. “Very good, Professor Himmibi,” he said. “Your knowledge and opinions have been greatly appreciated here. I have enjoyed our discussion, but I have other matters attend to.”

Getting passed the awkwardness, Cidan bowed. “Of course, Your Excellency. I thank you.”

Cidan, not understanding what any of this had been about, bowed and turned away, led by Royal Guards until he reached the turbolift. Inside, a man in a gray Moff’s uniform was waiting. He turned and smiled pleasantly to Cidan, and said, “The emperor must have been very impressed with you. He sent me.”

Cidan turned and looked at the man, not knowing what to say to that. “Well…that’s good. I’m glad he took the time to take such an interest in something so far beneath him at the moment.”

“Oh, it’s not beneath him at all, Professor Himmibi,” the Moff had said. “Indeed, there is a special project launching in a year’s time that has brought matters such as this to his attention. A kind of exploration endeavor, one for which the emperor now feels you would be perfectly suited.”

“Yes?” he said, now quite pleased with himself and feeling his spirits reverse.

“Yes. However, between now and then, there are would be some level of preparation. To get your mind into the right kind of headspace. That is, if you’re interested in it at all. There aren’t many Force adepts around anymore, and all of them that are extremely powerful are of better use elsewhere.” The Moff shrugged. “You might be in a position to be prepared for such an endeavor, if you were up to the training, of course. We would have to test you, put you through a series of trials, physical training to test your heart rate, stamina—you’re in very good shape for a professor.”

Cidan smirked. “All those years digging in the desert for artifacts cannot leave you fat.”

“That’s good. You also train in Feyn-Juk, right? That's a grappling art."

The Moff seemed to be moving at a pace that assumed Cidan knew where he was going with this. "I've trained it on and off, to keep in shape when I'm not on-site at a dig, or when I've spent long weeks just culling research and writing up my summary reports to send back to the university."

"And your file says you've received some degree of firearms training," the Moff went on.

Cidan thought, File? They've got a file on me? What for? Who the blazes am I to them? "I own a DH-17, and I'm not very good with it."

"You're familiar with which end to point where, though, and that's a better start than most academics. You've got a bit of experience in topology, and you wrote a great deal in your early years about modern understanding of Voor space conjecture and developable regular space."

"It was an experimental dissertation," Cidan had told him, shrugging. "I never followed through with it. I only ever studied it because it is disputably a great focus of ancient Rakatan theorems, and I was only interested in their culture. So, I had to dedicate a little time to understand topology a bit more. The Rakatan supposedly proved that Voor space was matrisable, that they inherit all topological properties from metric spaces. They did a lot of research in paracompact spaces and first-countable space, which of course satisfied the first axiom of countability, which I believe Rakatans viewed philosophically as a major point in their development of astro...I'm sorry, am I losing you, sir?" Cidan had chuckled. "I'm very sorry, but I do go on sometimes."

"You are a unique case," the Moff said, not answering his question. "You're an academic with some guts and physical skill, making you one of a select few potentials. I understand that you are soon to be married, yes?” He shrugged. "We can work that out. Plenty of room aboard the ship we're taking. Although, that might be the only thing holding you back among the rest of the potentials. Attachments, you know."

Cidan, with his academic curiosity now piqued, said, “Potentials for what? What would these tests be for? Which expedition are you talking about, anyway? I read all the journals and keep track of just about all the ones that matter, so which one is this?”

The Moff gave him a sidelong glance. "It's right up your alley."

"Is that all you can tell me?"

"That is all until we attend the briefing."

To Cidan, that sounded of the door closing on the topic. At least for now. He looked straight ahead at the reflective turbolift doors, and thought about what one of his anthropology professors had told him many years ago. The journey of a thousand kilometers starts with a single step.

Whatever it was that the Moff and the emperor were hinting at sounded exciting. It did more than just titillate his thirst for knowledge, it begged questions, and good questions were the basis of all scientific understanding. The possibility of something new, some new world or culture that demanded interaction with him had hooked Cidan Himmibi, drawing him in inexorably, and he knew that, no matter what was asked of him, he was committed. He and his familiy had spent their life in the service of others, and if he left now he wasn't sure that he would ever be able to pay them back for all they had done for him, but he could not pass up this opportunity. Nor could he hold back his dreams just for Nulla. While his commitment to her was very important to him, especially since she had recently told him that she believed she was with child, he would not let that hold him back. This felt like a once-in-his-lifetime opportunity, and he meant to seize it.
Last edited by Jubar Bavvet on 2010-08-10 19:54, edited 1 time in total.
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Xanis Sorannan
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Re: ICE DJ slot

Post by Xanis Sorannan » 2010-08-10 08:17

Iaex Larek Example Post #1
------
You know what they always say...home is where the heart is. That means I really only have one home, but I suppose you could say I like to see what other homes are like. No...not even that. I just like to travel and explore every new thing presented to me.

First there were my early years exploring around the outpost, and my idea of a 'big city' was just over a couple thousand people. Going offworld was only the next big step, and when I went off to the Core to join the Federation was about as exciting as it gets. At times you feel like you've just done everything you can do, though. That's when you find the next frontier.


The sleek Federation shuttle had just dropped out of hyperspace in his home system, officially known as MRX-1503-4J in the star charts due to its pure remoteness, but known among the inhabitants of the area as "The Outpost" because of the presence of a tiny green planet in orbit of the star, home of a total population of 63,000 sentient inhabitants of a vast range of species. Iaex was about as used to this approach vector as one could ever be - his family operated a supplies depot on the service of the planet where people from all around this sector of space could get equipment, parts, consumer goods, and all the other sorts of things that usually filtered out much slower from the Core worlds.

The shuttle pilot, while an extremely talented and knowledgable pilot was much more used to ferrying around ISIS personnel from one NIF installation to another, or even more often just from one ship to another as they commonly did, and she was taken aback somewhat by the utter complete and utter silence of the system. Sensing her indecision before she even said anything about it, Iaex reassured her, "Just keep on this heading. You shouldn't be picking up any transponders yet because we aren't within the zone."

The Zone was a specified region of space around the planet where the IFF transponders of all ships were able to be read by the small space station down on the planet. In contrast to systems in the Core, or even other places in the Rim, the size of the Zone for The Outpost was abnormally small as a result of extremely outdated equipment, on the order of hundreds of years outdated. Surprisingly, through constant upgrades and maintenance the equipment maintained its functionality with more and more modern ships, and had proved exceptionally reliable. "Commander," interrputed the pilot "will you input the coordinates where will be landing into our system?"

Looking up at her as if broken out of his private world of thoughts and memories, Iaex nodded and spoke almost imperceptibly, "Of course." while he moved over to the navigation equipment and began tapping away at the keys from memory. He had done the trip thousands of times, with several hundred of them being solo flights, and was well acquainted with the location of his homestead, about 30 kilometers outside of Outpost City, the largest and arguably only permanent town on the entire planet, which possessed the spaceport along with all government buildings and offices for the Outpost Administrator, effectively the governor of the planet who was elected every 5 years. The journey was not far nor difficult to do manually if one knew their destination, but the computers onboard the Lambda-class Shuttle insisted upon knowing where it was going, as the autopilot was to make the approach and in fact did much of the flying of the craft anyways.

Finishing entering in the coordinates to the navigational computers he tapped the 'enter' key and turned to the pilot, "Ensign, have you ever been this far away from the 'civilized' galaxy before?" he asked. Most people hadn't and those who could claim going to little-known worlds in the Outer Rim still could not come near close to being able to claim having been to such a completely remote planet on the edges of the Unknown Regions. It always made an interesting topic of conversation because whenever military personnel met each other a common question was the ubiquitous 'Where are you from?' and the reply normally fit within the standard norms of worlds that were at least connected into the galactic economy and society. Iaex had the advantage that no matter his companion's homeworld, his was almost surely more exotic and served as a sufficient ice breaker for all situations.

Predictably, she replied "No," and went on to qualify it by saying "I was born on Balmorra, and have served almost all of my career in the Core so far."

"Well then," Iaex mused, "You are sure to have an interesting stay here." When in the very short pause she seemed to grow concerned at that statement he continued on, "Life on the frontier is not like anything you have likely ever seen. It's simpler. We will only be here a few days but I reccommend you take advantage of the sights and sounds while we're here." Her relaxation was much more evident at hearing that when an idea struck Iaex, "I will get you a tour guide to show you around."

"Oh...that's not nece-" She started in her reply before he cut her off, "Ensign, you are going to be spending several days on a planet unlike any you have ever, and may ever see again, in your life. I am going to be on an extended detatched duty mission and thus have been allowed to visit my family and without something to do - none of the regular options you will think of being avaliable - you will be stuck by yourself with nothing to do." Realizing that she had little choice in the matter and that either she would go willingly, he would order her to do so, or she would be stuck twiddling her thumbs for several days, she relented and nodded her approval. "Good." responded Iaex, "You will enjoy this. In the meantime I trust that you and the computer can handle the approach - I'm going to go in back and talk to Examinator Clinton about how everything will likely play out. When he's not briefing my parents on what I will be doing as if I were incapable, or swearing them to secrecy, he will probably be joining some of the tours."

Getting up from the navigator's seat he moved to the back of the cockpit and activated the door hatch, allowing him to return to the cabin area where the IntOrg officer was waiting, sent along on this trip in order to ensure that Iaex's security and that of his family were not in danger, as well as his primary role in the matter of officially swearing his parents to secrecy on all information they were about to receive, and then going through the process along with Iaex of informing them exactly what he would be doing - quite likely for the remainder of his life as the farther the travels of the Intergalactic Campaign Expedition took it, the longer it would take for any sort of comparable trip back home.

Oddly, Iaex was at peace with the fact that he may never again see the world of his birth, the home of his childhood, and his parents ever again. He knew they, although saddened by losing him, would feel similarly knowing that he was continuing on his ambitions in a they all had only dreamed of. The only thing which he wondered whether to tell them...was that he had been selected for training in the ways of the Force.
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Kane
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Re: ICE DJ slot

Post by Kane » 2010-08-13 23:03

The decision has been made. Everyone gave fine examples and have presented good work for their case. But in the end there can be only one.

Let me tell you a little about how this process was done. Everyone was given a chance. We have many parameters to consider when selecting one of these rare spots, and due to their rarity we have to be careful, with fairness being the utmost guidance. We do consider things like writing skill for a role as complex as this, but it's far from the only one.

We have picked Xanis and his character Iaex Larek. Congratulations. Go make us proud. We'll hold an intiation ceremony in a while or two, every DJ is invited to participate.
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Iaex Larek
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Re: ICE DJ slot

Post by Iaex Larek » 2010-08-13 23:37

Well, in light of that, I am glad to accept this position, and I will do my best to play it well.

Bear with me everyone. ;)
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