[Imperial Archive Access Security Clearance: APPROVED]

[Processing data inquiry "Antumel III...]

[Inquiry found: "Records of the New Imperial Frontier."]

[Relevant data:] Antumel III: One of two habitable planets in the system, Antumel III is home to a meager industrial center. Its few cities survive thanks to a modest supply of rare minerals that keep corporations and traders somewhat interested. Most of Antumel III is covered in vast deserts. The bone white sand dunes of the Sarkosa Sea inspired the poet Jat Entest to write the poem “On the Endless Tides of Sand.” The planet is home to modest criminal activity from the Rock Snakes and Kipac Headhunters.

//Ending Imperial Archive Access Transmission//

The captain of the now missing VSD Salamis, one Captain Arkis Bryk, was last seen on shore leave on the industrial planet of Antumel III. Given the odd nature of the ship's disappearance and being the closest strike team to the anomaly, the crew of the Exarch has been tasked with gathering as much information regarding the good captain's departure as possible, with a strict order of not ruffling any feathers. Of course, when you enter an industrial planet influenced by anti-imperial gangs, things may not always go to plan...

The Imperial shuttles touched down just south of the industrial heartland of the planet, the bright blue skies fogged by a constant haze of industrial smoke and ash. The system had a distinct smell of burning machinery and constant clanging of heavy machinery. What they were producing- and for whom- was yet to be discovered...

Hello my lovely lurkers/community members. Recently, a surge of activity in our discord has suggested there is still interest in our RP, so I’ll provide a fresh claims thread if anyone is looking to get back into the game. The community is significantly smaller, so new character parameters will be a LOT looser, if you’re interested. Otherwise, sit back and enjoy the show!

-AAA

Welcome everyone to /r/swdarktimes, in this thread you can sent in your character application for the moderators to review.

Characters are divided into two categories, Imperials employed by the Galactic Empire and Scum who basically comprise everyone else. As an Imperial you could be anything from a daring TIE Pilot to a Star Destroyer's janitor. While with Scum you could be a bounty hunter or a smuggler, and much more.

For more information on this along with information about roleplaying on this sub in general, please make sure to check out our New Player's Guide to SWDarktimes

Also be sure to join our Discord Server, we would be honored if you would join us.

And also for a quick overview of the story and setting of this roleplay, please take some time to do a quick read of the following:

The year is 18 BBY. The armies of the CIS have been crushed. The feeble Jedi Order has been all but vanquished, the few survivors hiding amidst the commonfolk of the galaxy. The ways of the Old Republic are now a remnant of the past as Palpatine's New Order finishes its first year of rule. Clones and former Republic tech, architecture, and ships have been rapidly phased out, replaced by their cold, mechanical Imperial counterparts. The transition of power has led to an increase in smuggling and piracy in the Outer Rim- a direct threat to the well-being and prosperity of the good citizens of the Galactic Empire. To combat this, the Imperial Navy has christened the Exarch as part of a new wave of patrol ships. Considered the perfect entry-level ship for any aspiring Imperial, this Watchman-Class Patrol Vessel is the perfect launching point for any starry-eyed individual. Whether an officer, NCO, Stormtrooper, Clone, or Pilot, this mission presents the perfect starting point to any career.

However, the Empire is not the only group looking to explore the Outer Rim. Smugglers and pirates are rampant, the demand for goods reaching an all-time high after the Rise of the New Order. Bounty Hunters are flocking to the area, hearing that employment from both the rich profiteers and a desperate and undermanned Empire are ripe with opportunity.

Now with the background out of the way, let's move onto character creation.

If you wish your character to hold a position of seniority and authority, please keep in mind the following guidelines which we have for such characters.

For Senior Officer positions, only a limited amount will be available and applications will require further review from the mod team. People eligible for senior officer positions must be:

Demonstrate a higher quality of RP

Any applicants for these positions should address these perimeters in their application in addition to the standard character template.

In order to submit your character application please include the following information:

Name:

Age:

Homeworld:

Rank:

Role:

Backstory:

Height:

Weight:

Appearance: (Image) + Description:

And please make sure to tag either u/AnAngryAnimal, u/CosmicZeta, or u/ProfessorUber so the claim can be reviewed and hopefully approved.

Thank you. Please feel free to send any question you may have to the mod team.

"Sire, I... we found something. Something that might be of interest."

The Duros wore simple black robes over boiled armor, doing his best to stay calm. Of course, meeting with the boss was never something one could look forward to- if anything, it was best to look forward to getting out alive. Afterall, meeting face to face like this... Well.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

The shadowy figure seemed completely still in front of the Duros- infact, it was nearly impossible to tell if there was even anything in the room at all. The only light poked through several slits from the half-shut blinds, providing strips of light diagonally on the metallic table before him. A fan continued to spin slowly above the room, providing the only solace from the deafening silence that otherwise dominated the space. The Duros' red eyes looked from side to side briefly- had he offended the boss?

"Found what?"

The alien began to shake at the sound of the gruff voice, a bead of sweet slowly trickling down his forehead.

"The ship- the Imperial ship-"

"Yes, I know. What about it?"

"-They found it. Some local system ship... they're asking questions below about the officer."

"I know this. This is not news to me."

The Duros gulped- there was no easy way to tell the boss osmething he didn't already know. Afterall, no henchman ever wants to make their employer look ill-informed. Especially in this business.

"Yes, sire- but... the encryption. They found it."

The fan above them suddenly stopped spinning dead in its tracks with a metallic ca-chunk, the Duros wincing in fear.

"Who?"

"We don't know, sir, but-"

"ISB again?! I thought we had a deal!

"We don't know, sir! We're working on it-"

"**What a MESS!" The fan above the table was suddenly ripped out of the ceiling, plummeting into the metallic table in a plume of smoke and sparks.

"Find that encryption- and whoever took it. This needs to be done."

The Duros raised his hands quickly, stammering as he frantically looked for the right words.

"I- we have a contact. We think we may have an idea, but it's just a start-"

"I don't want a repeat of the Salamis. I want this one clean. Don't make me take care of this one myself, Black 4."

A single stormtrooper walked through the halls of the Exarch, indistinguishable from the rest of the uniformed figures strolling about.

"Pardon- have you seen Agent Trost? The commander said something about reporting a debriefing..."

"Are you sure this is wise, Sir?" questioned Lieutenant Dannan with an expression which can be described as getting as close to a disgusted sneer as possible while remaining professional. Her voice carried a crisp distinct Coruscanti accent.

As she spoke, the ship exited hyperspace and made its way in the direction of Myto Prime.

"Yes, Lieutenant. Without the Republic... we are left here in the outer rim without any support. Which is why we must seek out... alternative assistance."

"But a smuggler.... Ragae is scum. We all know that."

Risu merely gave a tired sigh.

"He was never convicted of anything, and the information he provided was invaluable in arresting criminal far worse than he."

"Yes. He got off free because he turned informant. I know."

"And he still knows me some favours.. look, Lieutenant Dannan, the Empire is continuing to tighten its grip on the galaxy. Even here on Myto Prime. We need to find Ragae and secure his assistance while we still can, or I fear the Empire will find him first..."

Ritsu looked down at his datapad to the old file he still had on Ragae. The man was a Zabrak smuggler who had been caught transporting illegal droid components by a Judicial raid on the dockyards led by Ritsu himself. After that, the smuggler had soon struck a deal in return for not being prosecuted, he'd become an informant of the Judicial and report to them on all his dealing with other smugglers and criminals.

He'd turned up to be remarkedly skilled at such a task and Ritsu had relied on the ex-smuggler more than he'd preferred. But nonetheless, Ragae was one of Ritsu's few underworld connection he felt he could probably trust that he could also contact.

"You... are correct Captain. Forgive me for speaking out turn," Dannan said eventually, which drew Ritsu from his thoughts.

"It is no issue, Lieutenant, I always value your input. But for now, get ready. I do not know Ragae's current location, only that he is likely on Myto Prime. We must scout out the area and perhaps find some information on the current situation on this planet."

As the ship entered the planet's atmosphere, Ritsu, Dannan and two other Judicial donned their cloaks and prepared themselves for the search. The ship soon docked and the scouting party exited, their cloaks drawn tightly to conceal their identities.

"Keep a low profile, we do not have must intelligence on the current status of this planet or its underowrld," Ritsu ordered discreetly to his officers as the party exited the docks and entered the streets of Myto Prime's capital city.

"Huh?! What?"

Tarsius nearly fell over as his datapad's notification alarm ripped him awake from his afternoon nap, his chair spinning violently before his legs found the ground. Ir had been weeks... months? Since the Exarch had received any sort of assignment, let alone a notification with such high importance. He wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth, yawning as he read the message.

Exarch Command:

Priority Level: 1

[ISB Commander Lystansis, Sr. Officer]

Captain Arkis Bryk of the 23rd Reserve Fleet has not checked in to the Mid-Rim systems. According to the Naval Command database, his ship- VSD Salamis, is currently docked over a planet within your system of patrol, Antummel III. Reports show his shore leave ended 2 rotations ago, but has not left the system nor responded to comms. Investigate this anomaly at once and report back by the end of this rotation.

Due to the classified nature of Byrk's assignment, all other details remain need-to-know. Failure to comply may result in a court-martial.

//END TRANSMISSION//

Tarsius sighed- classic. Another mission that kept him in the dark, doomed to forever be a lackey that knew nothing. The assignment was straightforward, at least. If the Captain was there, great. If not, he'd report it and some other ISB spook could come check it out- he got paid either way.

"Well, might as well get going, I guess."

Tarsius frowned as he waited on the bridge in his black uniform- if he was going to be confronting a tarty Captain, the least he could do was put on the facade of a true Imperial officer. He adjusted the hat as the Exarch blasted out of hyperspace in front of Antummel III. The planet looked almost blindingly white as the sun reflected off of the bright sands below, occasionally marred by large industrial cities and manufacturing plants.

Swear to gods if he makes me go down to that glorified oven...

"Sir, we've located the transmission point of the Salamis- but there's no ship there."

Tarsius looked at the young flight lieutenant with surprise. A VSD was a big ship- and big ships always appear on scopes if you're looking for one.

"What?"

He walked over, looking over the shoulder of the Lieutenant and at the screen. Indeed, COMSCAN was picking up the Salamis' signature directly ahead of them- yet nothing was there.

Not dealing with this. Not today.

He smacked the screen several times, hoping the problem would rectify itself in some way. The radar simply glitched for a brief second with every hit, still registering the VSD's location.

"Well.... shit."

Boy, Jen sure knew how to talk. It had felt like hours, and she showed no signs of stopping- even with the hot sun beating down on them. Then again, it had a bit of charm to it, particularly when he rarely provided a retort.

Kid has resolve.

After hours of trekking, they had finally arrived to the crest of the hill. Kee grunted as he pulled himself up, wiling the sand off of his poncho and readjusting his hat as he looked out beyond the hill- a massive ship graveyard for as long as the eye could see, nearly all Clone Wars era. The sight of all the ships brought back a lot of memories, most being ones he could go without. He scanned the grounds, looking for… something to go off of.

C’mon.

He zoomed in on a small trail of light smoke behind one of the ships. It was grey- unlike the thick smoke from a broken piece of machinery. A fire, perhaps?

“Let’s go, Jen. We might be in luck.”

Captain Ritsu Suns, formerly of the Galactic Republic’s Judicial Forces and now runaway away fugitive, nurses a glass of juice at a small secluded table in the corner of one of the busy cantinas of the outlaw haven known as Spacer’s Hole.

The fact he’s been forced to rub shoulders with the scum and villainy he watched sought to bring to justice disgusted him, but he kept up a face of determined stoicism. No matter what Palpatine or his ‘Empire’ says, Ritsu is still a proud and loyal patriotic servant of the Republic and captain in the Judicial Forces.

But for now, he had to ensure the safety of both himself and the crew under his command. And for that he must establish ties and roots in Spacer’s Hole, inquire and learn about the local power players and meet any persons of interest which catch his eye, or anyone who Ritsu himself has caught the attention of.

Because arriving in a a Republic Consular-class ship was sure to bring attention to them. And while Ritsu and his compatriots are wearing cloaks to cover themselves and obscure their identities, they all still remain too proud to remove their Judicial uniforms, and so their allegiance may be clear to anyone paying close enough attention to their attire.

But for now, Ritsu continues nursing his drink along with two Judicial officers flanking him and looking out for danger. Together they look for anyone who seems interesting or suspicious.

Kee stared at the metal box before him anxiously. It was a secret he had kept hidden for quite some time- not out of malice or paranoia, but more so for safety reasons. After all, there was already more than enough trouble to go around between him and his partner... but then again, that meant now was as good of a time as ever. He picked up the box, walking towards the cockpit and leaning against the door frame.

"Got a new job for us. Should be Imperial-free."

He threw her the box- a small, dented, blaster-scorched box with the old Confederacy of Independent Systems insignia on the front. The box rattled when shaken- inside, an old Clone Wars era beacon.

"I'm gonna assume I don't need to explain to you what that is."

Hey everyone! This sub is pretty inactive- however, if there are any newcomers or anyone that is interested in making posts or whatever, I thought I'd throw up a new claims post since the previous one is about to be archived. Happy hunting!

-AAA

Welcome everyone to /r/swdarktimes, in this thread you can sent in your character application for the moderators to review.

Characters are divided into two categories, Imperials employed by the Galactic Empire and Scum who basically comprise everyone else. As an Imperial you could be anything from a daring TIE Pilot to a Star Destroyer's janitor. While with Scum you could be a bounty hunter or a smuggler, and much more.

For more information on this along with information about roleplaying on this sub in general, please make sure to check out our New Player's Guide to SWDarktimes

Also be sure to join our Discord Server, we would be honored if you would join us.

And also for a quick overview of the story and setting of this roleplay, please take some time to do a quick read of the following:

The year is 18 BBY. The armies of the CIS have been crushed. The feeble Jedi Order has been all but vanquished, the few survivors hiding amidst the commonfolk of the galaxy. The ways of the Old Republic are now a remnant of the past as Palpatine's New Order finishes its first year of rule. Clones and former Republic tech, architecture, and ships have been rapidly phased out, replaced by their cold, mechanical Imperial counterparts. The transition of power has led to an increase in smuggling and piracy in the Outer Rim- a direct threat to the well-being and prosperity of the good citizens of the Galactic Empire. To combat this, the Imperial Navy has christened the Exarch as part of a new wave of patrol ships. Considered the perfect entry-level ship for any aspiring Imperial, this Watchman-Class Patrol Vessel is the perfect launching point for any starry-eyed individual. Whether an officer, NCO, Stormtrooper, Clone, or Pilot, this mission presents the perfect starting point to any career.

However, the Empire is not the only group looking to explore the Outer Rim. Smugglers and pirates are rampant, the demand for goods reaching an all-time high after the Rise of the New Order. Bounty Hunters are flocking to the area, hearing that employment from both the rich profiteers and a desperate and undermanned Empire are ripe with opportunity.

Now with the background out of the way, let's move onto character creation.

If you wish your character to hold a position of seniority and authority, please keep in mind the following guidelines which we have for such characters.

For Senior Officer positions, only a limited amount will be available and applications will require further review from the mod team. People eligible for senior officer positions must be:

A long-standing member of the community

Demonstrate a higher quality of RP

Active (Any senior officer that does not actively post within a week without notice will be replaced)

Any applicants for these positions should address these perimeters in their application in addition to the standard character template.

In order to submit your character application please include the following information:

Name:

Age:

Homeworld:

Rank:

Role:

Backstory:

Height:

Weight:

Appearance: (Image) + Description:

And please make sure to tag either u/AnAngryAnimal, u/CosmicZeta, or u/ProfessorUber so the claim can be reviewed and hopefully approved.

Thank you. Please feel free to send any question you may have to the mod team.

Caught

They found her.

It had taken a long time, but they'd done it. She'd tried every avenue of escape, but it hadn't done her a lick of good.

They found her.

It had started so quickly. One minute, she'd been in a cantina, looking for another trace of Kee. After their last meeting ended in 'success', if you could call barely achieving your objective success, they had gone to ground, gone their own separate ways. Mure had taken a new alias, repainted her armor in chrome and green, the old colors of her clan from the Wars, an attempt at becoming a new woman.

It didn't work. They found her.

It was a Nikto, first. He seemed intent on picking a fight at the wrong time, and the cantina owner warned him that it was a bad idea. He didn't listen. Mure ventilated him easily enough, the moment she saw a blaster, she drew, all but vaporizing his ribcage and leaving his chest a gloaming, smoking snarl of charred flesh and cloth. She'd left the cantina, to be safe, intent on nighting over in the Magnificent and leaving Myto Prime in the morning.

That's when the two humans and the Wookie found her.

That's when she knew.

She'd run like the devil was on her heels, hoping to run into any sort of escape. The local authorities didn't get involved in bounty hunter scuffles unless they disturbed the peace, and these guys were professionals. They didn't fire on Mure unless they had a clear shot, and they'd landed a clean one right on her bad leg. If she didn't know this damn city as well as she did, they'd have caught her right then and there, but she'd managed to duck and crawl her way through every back alley she could find.

But the Wookie could smell it. The fear. The rage. The desperate need to flee. And they were mocking her.

She'd tried to comm Caprice, and she got Vee Lancliff instead.

"You've got an hour's head start, hon."

An hour her farking aft.

She was fast, she was tough, and she wasn't about to give up and die, but these pieces of bantha shit were persistent. They weren't going to stop until they had her, and if they got her, it was over. They knew. They had to know. If Caprice didn't answer her, if Vee had somehow gotten his comms, then they knew what she'd done. She tried to banish it from her mind, tried to think about the moment, about escaping the trio on her tail now, but no matter what she did, she could never completely kill the mother's instinct.

Focus. Control your breathing. Grab your blaster. Don't panic. Plan.

Now she had a pistol in her hand, but her problems hadn't changed at all. Even if she won this gunfight, which she highly doubted she could considering the Wookie had a kriffing blaster cannon, it wouldn't solve the problem. Vee would just send more, send worse, and only the Force knew what he'd do to-

FOCUS.

It wasn't working. She was panicking. There wasn't an exit, there wasn't a way out. She was cornered. She'd made a wrong turn, and now it was over.

She was trapped.

Hitting her commlink like a woman possessed, she tried to hail someone, anyone, hoping against hope that she'd found a channel to someone she knew. Her clan was far away, on Kalevala. The man she loved was probably dead. The closest thing she had to an ally was no-contact, and for good reason.

She was stuck in an alley, with one gun and a bum leg, against a rapidly approaching trio of bounty hunters, and she was all alone. The beskar could stop small fire, but that laser cannon would punch right through it. It did nothing to stun bolts. The Wookie could probably kill her with a fist if he felt like it. The other two were ample tough enough to distract her until the Wookie got its mitts on her.

There wasn't a way out.

One of the humans turned the corner first, and instinct took over. Mure braced her pistol and fired, one, two, three. Even in her panick, her aim was true, and the only reason the man didn't die on the spot was because he had the lack of foresight, instead taking three to the stomach and falling on his back.

"Somebody pick up the KRIFFING COMMS!" Mure growled as she resumed looking for an exit, finally finding one in a trash chute in the corner next to her. Taking a few steps back, she got a short running start before slamming feet first into the grate covering the shoot, kicking it in and sending a massive spur of pain all the way up from her foot to her hip.

This was a bad idea, and it was only going to end badly.

An Consular-Class Corvette* docks at Spacer's Hole. The ship is old and battered, clearly having gone possibly years without receiving proper service.

Captain Ritsu Suna, formerly of the Galactic Republic's Judicial Forces, now considered a mere traitor and deserter, stands silently at the helm of the ship.

He still wears his Judicial uniform, yet its older and worn, his face as tired as the ship around him.

'Still Can't believe we're lowering our selves to these scum....' muttered the pilot of the ship. She was a young Human woman in a Judicial Uniform, her voice had a distinct Coruscanti accent, and her clear disgust at the Outer Rim reflected her origin as part of the planet's upper crust.

'Our Government is ruled by a usurper, Palpatine and his collaborators have seized controlled of every section of the Republic's military, law enforcement and intelligence services. Even the Senate is under his control,' replied Ritsu as he looked at Spacer's Hole.

Him and the crew of Judicial he had been able to rally to him had spent much of the time since the establishment of the Galactic Empire in deep hiding. Their choice not to kill their former comrades who were loyal to Palpatine had merely meant their mutiny was eventually reported and so they had all been branded deserters.

'I know, I know... But being Bounty Hunters in a place like this... Its a lot different than the Core Worlds it is..,' the pilot said again as she completed the landing process.

Bounty Hunting, to some it may seem like a poor and dishonourable substitution to the work of galactic law enforcement and peacekeeping. Yet Ritsu had long grown discontent with simply hiding from this self-proclaimed Empire, he swore an oath to the Republic and to the Judicial Forces.

Bounty Hunting may not be glamorous, but it may allow him to continue protecting the people of the galaxy, bring law to the frontiers of the galaxy often neglected even under the Republic.

Shortly after the ship docked, Ritsu exited into Spacer's hole. He wore a grey cape which covered much of his Judicial Uniform, along with a brimmed hat to conceal some of his face. Two other judicial followed him out, both wearing grey cloaks.

These were meant to conceal their uniforms somewhat, while they had too much pride to forgo them completely, some moderate concealment was warranted as to not draw attention to themselves needlessly.

While their ultimately goal was finding work in the business of bounty hunting, he also intended to get a lay of the land. His long career as a Judicial had taught him that it was always good to be aware of the situation of whatever sector he had been stationed in, and so meeting and discovering any important figures of Myto would prove to be good in the long term.

For now him and two other Judicials walked across Spacer's Hole, stepping silently into a local Cantina to survey the area and possibly even meet those worth meeting.

Welcome everyone to /r/swdarktimes, in this thread you can sent in your character application for the moderators to review.

Characters are divided into two categories, Imperials employed by the Galactic Empire and Scum who basically comprise everyone else. As an Imperial you could be anything from a daring TIE Pilot to a Star Destroyer's janitor. While with Scum you could be a bounty hunter or a smuggler, and much more.

For more information on this along with information about roleplaying on this sub in general, please make sure to check out our New Player's Guide to SWDarktimes

Also be sure to join our Discord Server, we would be honoured if you would join us.

And also for a quick overview of the story and setting of this roleplay, please take some time to do a quick read of the following:

The year is 18 BBY. The armies of the CIS have been crushed. The feeble Jedi Order has been all but vanquished, the few survivors hiding amidst the commonfolk of the galaxy. The ways of the Old Republic are now a remnant of the past as Palpatine's New Order finishes its first year of rule. Clones and former Republic tech, architecture, and ships have been rapidly phased out, replaced by their cold, mechanical Imperial counterparts. The transition of power has led to an increase in smuggling and piracy in the Outer Rim- a direct threat to the well-being and prosperity of the good citizens of the Galactic Empire. To combat this, the Imperial Navy has christened the Exarch as part of a new wave of patrol ships. Considered the perfect entry-level ship for any aspiring Imperial, this Watchman-Class Patrol Vessel is the perfect launching point for any starry-eyed individual. Whether an officer, NCO, Stormtrooper, Clone, or Pilot, this mission presents the perfect starting point to any career.

However, the Empire is not the only group looking to explore the Outer Rim. Smugglers and pirates are rampant, the demand for goods reaching an all-time high after the Rise of the New Order. Bounty Hunters are flocking to the area, hearing that employment from both the rich profiteers and a desperate and undermanned Empire are ripe with opportunity.

Now with the background out of the way, let's move onto character creation.

If you wish your character to hold a position of seniority and authority, please keep in mind the following guidelines which we have for such characters.

For Senior Officer positions, only a limited amount will be available and applications will require further review from the mod team. People eligible for senior officer positions must be:

• A long-standing member of the community

• Demonstrate a higher quality of RP

• Active (Any senior officer that does not actively post within a week without notice will be replaced)

Any applicants for these positions should address these perimeters in their application in addition to the standard character template.

In order to submit your character application please include the following information:

• Name:

• Age:

• Homeworld:

• Rank:

• Role:

• Backstory:

• Height:

• Weight:

• Appearance: (Image) + Description:

And please make sure to tag either u/AnAngryAnimal, u/CosmicZeta, or u/ProfessorUber so the claim can be reviewed and hopefully approved.

Thank you. Please feel free to send any question you may have to the mod team.

The briefing room was packed. Troopers and Pilots lined the deck, squished together in the cramped room, every one of them desperately trying to peer towards the front of the room, where a holographic projector and massive tactical screen lay dormant. In lieu of any actual orders or presentation, the mix of personnel had already begun chatting with each other, scattered conversations that grew into a deafening murmur.

It was into this chaotic room that Sqn. Ldr. Catherine Dallocort strode in, fastening her dress uniform with one hand while taking a sip of coffee with the other. Slowly but surely, she made her way towards the front of the room, pushing and shoving the crowd apart to make a path. As she arrived, she nodded to her flight officers and the observers at the edges of the room, before looking up at the audience and waiting in judgmental silence for the noise to quiet down.

Slowly, as the cramped personnel noticed the officer at the front of the room, the noise quieted to absolute silence. And Catherine smiled.

"Good morning. Take your seats."

As Catherine waited for the shuffling to subside, she set her coffee on the side of the projector and straightened, trying her best to actually care about the briefing nonsense.

"It has now been almost three months since we entered orbit of Myto Prime and began ground operations, and in that time a lot of mistakes have been made. Units have failed to effectively communicate with command, equipment failures have gone unchecked, intel has been shoddy, and nobody has been using proper comms discipline."

Catherine paced as she talked, slowly making a circle around the projector.

"It's lucky that the scum we've been facing have been so incompetent and ill-equipped, or else I would be talking to a much smaller group of people."

Catherine stopped at the front of the projector, waving an accusatory finger across the assembled soldiers.

"It has become clear to myself and Major Tarsius that both the ground and air corps are in need of serious renovation and familiarization with the local terrain. This isn't the imperial academy anymore, this is real, which means all of you need to be familiar with not only your own equipment, but what the enemy is using, and the terrain that the enemy will be accustomed to."

Catherine paused, and suppressed the urge to grin, the corners of her mouth betraying a small proud smile.

"As such!"

Catherine nodded to her operations officer, and the screen behind her lit up with a massive spreadsheet detailing the next month of training operations.

"As such, we will begin a series of combined arms training exercises, starting from now until myself and Major Tarsius are satisfied in the effectiveness and the good condition of all Exarch personnel. This will include, but will not be limited to: space-to-air transitions, low orbit assault drops, walker deployment, orbital structure assaults, CAS operations, and crash-survival simulations. All of this and more, shall be the focus of the crew of the Exarch for the next three weeks minimum."

Catherine strode back behind the projector, and picked her coffee back up.

"Any questions?"

(u/AnAngryAnimal)

The red sky was partially covered up by the dust and ash of the Empire’s dirty work. The howling of the wind gently broke up the sound of cracking and popping of the destroyed buildings and marketplaces- other than that, the streets were much less lively than usual. The Imps were up to something, thought what it was, Kee wasn’t quite sure. The nearby spaceport had been blown to oblivion and back again, and now the imperial presence had ramped up- along with their new sympathizing police force. Though, from what he had heard, they seemed to be more like legalized thugs and thieves backed with military-grade firepower.

Bastards.

Kee’s poncho flapped in the wind as he puffed a cigar, walking down the mostly abandoned road. It was going to get ugly with the Imps on Myto, that was for sure. And having Jen with him, well... that could only make it uglier. It was time to go. Besides- they had a date with destiny far from this gods-forsaken rock.

“Come on, kid. Let’s go.”

Iikhol looked out of the cockpit window, peering at hyperspace as they prepared to exit the lane into the Myto system. It was a good haul she had aboard now - both in terms of the legal goods she used as a cover, and the spice stowed away in the Jackrabbit’s smuggling holes. Soon enough, the clouds of hyperspace gave way to the lines of light one sees as they exit hyperspace. One thing she didn't expect to see, however, was the ISD Exarch floating in orbit. This was supposed to be an easy job, she thought.

She turned on her translator and called one of the newer crew members forward, someone who wasn't at the skirmish.

"Remember, if they scan us, tell them you're the captain. You bought this ship second-hand from a trader on Dantooine and are using it to bring consumer goods to Myto Prime, understand? Make way for the nearest space port that isn't the Capital."

"What about the spice, ma'am?"

"We'll meet up with the rendezvous after we offload the civilian goods. Who knows, maybe we'll find a better buyer wherever you land." She turned off and removed her translator after saying this. Perhaps whoever was on the Exarch wouldn't recognise her, or understand her.

The quiet whir of the ventilation system resounded through Stonson’s mind. It was a familiar sound – months of service onboard the Exarch had made him intimate with every quirk of the vessel, from the pill-shaped wall lights to the HVAC, the vacuum plumbing and the occasional malfunction with his desk terminal that occurred whenever the ship felt like it didn’t want to run smoothly.

All of that familiarity – once a key character of this monotonous assignment – had faded into the background after recent events. Politics... he didn’t like politics. They had caused the last war, and they would cause the next. They were causing this conflict now, and if the pilot knew anything, it was that politics would keep the Exarch and her crew tied up in these brushfire conflicts for the far foreseeable future. That was not something he had anticipated.

The wing commander picked up his datapad and hit “send”, alerting the rest of the senior staff in the wing that he was convening a meeting of sorts in one of the cruiser’s cramped conference rooms. He set the ‘pad down and reached for his desk drawer, withdrawing a set of gloves. The fake nerfskin items were tight and uncomfortable, not like the padded ones he wore as part of the flightsuit. He pulled them on and rose, smoothing out the wrinkles on his uniform and picking the cap up off the tabletop.

The walk down the hallway was just as boring as it had ever been. At least that hadn’t changed.

Wilmar checked his chrono upon reaching the meeting room. He had arrived on schedule for himself; that is to say, ten minutes early. It was habit more than anything else, to arrive early. He scanned the empty room as he sat down. It was indeed cramped, not like the captain’s conference room, but Stonson had quite deliberately avoided choosing a cushy meeting place. We’ll see how that plays out, he reflected, adjusting his rank plaque before he took the ‘pad back out and began reviewing the last report as a way to pass time. The other officers would be showing up soon.

Jommbel stepped off the shuttle, armour shiny and clean save for a few travel scuffs. The stale processed helmet air becoming even more stale and processed coming from the ship. The only flavour in the air was fuel and cleaning product. Karl wasn't exactly thrilled about this post, but he remained optimistic that it would at least be something he'd never seen before. After all, variety is the spice if life or some shite. He kept his fingers crossed he could get paid and get out before getting killed or wounded. But his more immediate danger was getting lost in the logistics of the imperial war machine, he waited in line with the others that arrived. Heres hoping they could get him sorted in a decent amount of time.

(Come say hi to new guy, open to all on Exarch)

The area that had formerly been recognized as a spaceport was a grizzly scene. The windows had been blasted to hell, the top nearly melted off from repeated strafes and airstrikes, the walls punctured and shredded from nearly every possible angle...

And then there was the Myto Imperial Guard frontline.

The corpses of hundreds of former Myto Police, only recently renamed for a more fitting imperial name, littered the 500 meter stretch between the downtown district and spaceport. They had followed their orders well, though at a heavy, heavy cost. No matter- this was retribution for their role in the market assault some months earlier. The debt, it seemed, had been paid- and more importantly, they now had the means for mass recruitment.

Not to mention the funding that would be necessary with all the confiscated contraband.

"Evictus actual, ground teams are away. You're go for lighting it up- see you soon."

The shuttles streaked into the sky as turbolaser fire ripped into the shell of the spaceport, sending dark green plumes of smoke rising high into the air as the echoes rang throughout the residential districts. The message of Imperial dominance had been delivered, it seemed.

The training room on the Exarch was nothing like the elite training grounds of the academy. In fact, by comparison, the Exarch training room looked more like a child's day care. However small it maybe, it still served its purpose: keeping the troopers in fighting condition.

Trant entered the room in full scouting gear. Though protocol dictated that he trained in his training gear, Trant felt as if it would be cheating the experience. Why train for combat in comfort when the war would be far from it.

He approached the area reserved for climbing, and scout exercises and began to prepare for his day of training.

Edit: ((OOC: This takes place before Operation Ash but after Opal))

Trant washed the rest of the bacta fluid off his body. He spent the better part of the day in the bacta tank to help recuperate from his wounds. Fresh scar tissue marked his body, and his face, and he winced with pain as he slid into his standard issue black thermal suit.

Prior to his capture, and immediate torture, Trant could easily cover up the scars from his back and neck. The scars from the lashes on his back, and the surgical scar on his neck now failed to appear as noteworthy as his heavily scarred face, giving him the appearance of a dead stormtrooper.

Once dressed, he walked down the halls of the Exarch grateful to be back aboard. Grateful to be alive. This was the second time the Empire had save his life, and he would gladly return the favor.

Especially if it means I get to blast those bantha fucking scum to bits... maybe even drag that Devorian to the Sar'lac on Tatooine...

The thought of seeing the horned alien struggle against the mighty jaws and the unbreakable tendrils of the desert monster made him smirk.

Damn... it hurts to smile...

After a while, he arrived at the quartermaster and retrieved his gear, refurbished Clone Wars tech. Best they can do for a scout this far out in the Outer Rim. Especially seeing as all his newer gear got damaged, destroyed, or taken during his incarceration. He sighed, then approached the range to resume his training.

(OOC: Takes place immediately after Operation: Sifting Ash, with combat operations winding down.)

As Catherine begins her final approach on the Exarch, she notices something was very wrong. Her starboard engine had just cut out, and her port side didn't seem to be performing much better, sputtering and shaking as the Y-Wing began to slow down towards the Exarch. After some rapid calculations, Catherine realizes that she will never make it into the hanger with her engines like this, especially if she continues slowing down.

So instead, she speeds up. The last remnants of her port engine burn hard, skewing the Y-Wing to the right, but giving the vessel just enough velocity to carry into the hanger at rapid speeds, floating above the deck for a beautiful moment of success.

I did it!

Unfortunately, Catherine completely forgot to think about how she was going to land, and while desperately trying to steer her Y-Wing straight, has just enough time to see the floor coming up quicker than expected before her Y-Wing hit it.

The screeching of tearing metal resounds through the hanger, sparks flying as the Y-Wing makes impact with the deck. Crewman on the hanger floor scatter in the wake of this catastrophic crash landing, and the Y-Wing slides a solid 30 feet or so before finally coming to a stop. A fire starts inside the ship, and the crewman gather around, processing what just occurred.

Abruptly, the emergency release hatch flies off of the cockpit, sliding across the deck as Catherine, clearly bruised and bleeding but alive, limps out of the wreck. She looks back at the burning wreckage that used to be her Y-Wing, before turning to the assembled crowd of curious technicians.

"If anybody needs me, I'll be in the medical room."

And Catherine began to limp out of the hanger.

Olkane stepped off the troop transport with an air of authority, he was here to get things done. The intel picture was far from ideal, something was happening. He found the officer in charge of the command post, a scrawny looking Lieutenant.

"Lieutenant I haven't the slightest clue what's going on here! Why is that!"

"All due respect Sir we're a little busy right now with the actual fighting."

Olkane knew the type, that didn't think intel was important enough to devote a modicum of resources to it. Utter morons.

"You're telling me you don't have a single person here who can keep me updated on what you're looking at, what you've found and what you've killed!"

They had to yell over the continuous blasterfire of the battle all around them, but this was yelling beyond that.

Olkane continued, "You're getting an intel officer and they're going to help you with this because you clearly don't seem interested in participating in the larger battle! Don't gimme a yessir, get back to kriffing work, we can figure this out when your men aren't getting killed!"

He turned around to head back to the troop transport that would take him back to the main FOB, but a light whistling interrupted him.

A trooper yelled "MOOOORTAAARS!!"

The Lieutenant and his staff were crouched at the table. Olkane marched back over

"What the hell are you cowards doing?!? This table isn't gonna protect you idiots for jack shit from a mortar round, why the hell are you so scared!?! Stand up straight, and maybe just kriffing maybe, people will take you seriously!!"

He turned again to the transport this time ignoring the whistling, this time, the round landed 15 feet in front of him. It blew him backward back towards the table. The Lieutenant and his staff began cowering again. They looked fearfully upon Olkane's burnt and bleeding face.

As he looks out the side view port, Nejaa Ardellian takes a deep breath. His eyes follow the fighters flying in formation with the shuttle he's riding in, and his mind wonders where he'l be assigned once on board the EXARCH

"That'll be me soon." He thinks as the fighters break of and continue their patrol.

He is snapped back into the moment as a shadow from the EXARCH darkens his vision. He looks at the vessel in awe, appreciating the size. He had only seen holos until now, and, while he has many hours flying in simulators around WATCHMAN class and even VENATOR class vessels, nothing compares to seeing one in person.

The shadowed exterior is quickly replaced by a clean, well lit hangar as the shuttle softly sets down in the main bay.

Nejaa takes a deep breath and collects his gear before pulling up his orders on his datapad. "Report to LTJG Swasca for assignment immediately upon boarding the EXARCH " He reads aloud. "I wonder what they'll have me flying? Something fast and maneuverable I hope."

Hoping to make a good first impression to anyone who sees him, he slings his gear over his shoulder and makes his way down the boarding ramp, his steps precise and his posture as straight as he can manage ((OCC: it looks forced and uncomfortable)) and makes his way toward the LTJG's office.

((OCC: This is set before OP SIFTING ASH, So I'll be jumping in that thread shortly.))

Times have been hard for The Free Pact ever since Ralios was captured, but they have tried to make do in his absence. The loose council of various leaders and captains have argued for ages on what to do or if they should flee the sector, but in the end they determined that fleeing now without any plans would likely not end well, they've fled so much already.

But they need credits, both to keep their ships running and also to put together a fund to bust Ralios out of whatever prison those Republic Dogs- 'Imperials' stuck him in. Which is why they have rented a small assembly hall in Spacer's Hole to put on a sell.

"Yes, Yes. All stock must go! Name your price! This is a once in a lifetime sale!" The shouty Neimodian yells to anyone who listens as he rows of joins and other machines are displayed. Various contraptions salvaged by The Free Pact and put back together by their Skoakan Engineers could be found.

A row of battledroids, built with various parts from different modes, all seemed mostly in working order however. One B1 Battledroid with Droidaka legs danced around while yelling "Roger Roger!"

"Yes, get them while you still can. And if droids do not interest you, then we also got BLASTERS! MACHINE PARTS! ENGINES! Everything you may need in your space adventures!" The shouty Neimoidian continued.

Other than that spokersman, various Neimodians were also present as staff, along with some Skoakan engineers and some Muun handling transactions.

"We also have fine foods! Fruits! Freshly transported here!" The shouter gestured to some baskets of foods which were also present in the impromptu market place.

"Come all! And feel free to browse the galaxy's greatest collection of quality goods! All funds go to a good cause!" That being the cause of restarting a new Separatist Movement of course.

Secretly the droids were all programmed to be loyal to the Separatist cause and rise up to support them once a code was issued, as well as reveal all observed data. The Seperatists awaited who would enter to buy their items.

The LAAT, Nu-Class and Sentinel-Class shuttles all touch down outside the precinct, countless troops disembark from the assorted shuttles, Sergeants and Officers disembarking with their squads and platoons. They line up in front of the building, Tarsius, Ein, Eidolon, Hrasvelg and Blackjack stand in front of the troops. They all announce the immediate takeover of the Myto Police Force, to be placed under Imperial watch and control.

The forces move in with hostile intent, taking over desks, workstations and establishing tents, barracks, firing ranges and motorpools. For the most part, the police fall in line, and any resistors are taken into custody for "reconditioning".

All the forces, Imperial and police alike convene in the conference hall, with the same officers from before taking centre-stage. Hrasvelg speaks up first, briefing the mission.

"We have one goal tonight, raze and pillage the entire Cuziran spaceport. Any objections, speak now or get out. None? Ok, the spaceport is controlled by the Pykes, tonight they move a shipment worth 45 Million credits, that value is split in Art, Spice and Alcohol. Our goal is to seize control, take LITERALLY everything , and then the fighter squadrons will bomb the EVERLASTING SHIT out of the port. However, the Empire does not have enough troops here to take it ourselves, should the police force help us take this illegal operation down, we promise to fund, supply and train you into one of the most formidable forces in this entire sector.

"Aurek company will spearhead the assault, followed by Besh Company, Cresh Company and then Dorn Company. This is an all-hands on deck mission, meaning select naval personnel will be partaking as well, namely the naval troopers. Any further questions? No, please see your squad leads for instructions, all police forces please look to your datapads for your assignments. Long Live the Emperor, may his wisdom guide us in the battle ahead. Good luck to all of you."

We're in the midst of a bit of an overhaul, so we want to see who's still interested! If you haven't been in a while, never fear- we miss you! If not, no pressure!

Welcome everyone to /r/swdarktimes, in this thread you can sent in your character application for the moderators to review.

Characters are divided into two categories, Imperials employed by the Galactic Empire and Scum who basically comprise everyone else. As an Imperial you could be anything from a daring V-wing Pilot to a Star Destroyer's janitor. Scum, on the other hand, can be pretty much anything- Crime lord, bounty hunter, opportunist, treasure hunter, rebel, or one of the many other factions listed in our doc!

For more information on this along with information about roleplaying on this sub in general, please make sure to check out our New Player's Guide to SWDarktimes.

Also be sure to join our Discord Server to really join, plan, and have fun with the community! We would be honored if you would join us.

For a quick overview of the story and setting of this roleplay, please take some time to do a quick read of the following:

The year is 18 BBY. The armies of the CIS have been crushed. The feeble Jedi Order has been all but vanquished, the few survivors hiding amidst the commonfolk of the galaxy. The ways of the Old Republic are now a remnant of the past as Palpatine's New Order finishes its first year of rule. Clones and former Republic tech, architecture, and ships have been rapidly phased out, replaced by their cold, mechanical Imperial counterparts. The transition of power has led to an increase in smuggling and piracy in the Outer Rim- a direct threat to the well-being and prosperity of the good citizens of the Galactic Empire. To combat this, the Imperial Navy has christened the Exarch as part of a new wave of patrol ships. Considered the perfect entry-level ship for any aspiring Imperial, this Watchman Class Patrol Frigate is the perfect launching point for any starry-eyed individual. Whether an officer, NCO, Stormtrooper, Clone, or Pilot, this mission presents the perfect starting point to any career. Keep in mind- much of the Empire is still using tech from the Republic era!

However, the Empire is not the only group looking to explore the Outer Rim. Smugglers and pirates are rampant, the demand for goods reaching an all-time high after the Rise of the New Order. Bounty Hunters are flocking to the area, hearing that employment from both the rich profiteers and a desperate and undermanned Empire are ripe with opportunity.

Now with the background out of the way, let's move onto character creation.

If you wish your character to hold a position of seniority and authority, please keep in mind the following guidelines which we have for such characters.

For Senior Officer positions, only a limited amount will be available and applications will require further review from the mod team. People eligible for senior officer positions must be:

Demonstrate a higher quality of RP

Active (Any senior officer that does not actively post within a week without notice will be replaced)

Any applicants for these positions should address these perimeters in their application in addition to the standard character template.

In order to submit your character application please include the following information:

Name:

Age:

Homeworld:

Rank:

Role:

Backstory:

Height:

Weight:

Appearance: (Image) + Description:

How did you find us?

And please make sure to tag either u/CosmicZeta or u/ProfessorUber so the claim can be reviewed and hopefully approved.

Thank you. Please feel free to send any questions you may have to the mod team!

ATTN: [NAME]

PRIORITY: HIGH

PROPOSED OPERATIONAL ORDER FOR THE TRANSITION OF MYTO PRIME (OOTMP)

PHASE 1: Preparation

1. Organization and investigation into OMMP: History, ties, individual record checks, arrests if necessary.

2. Assessment of local politicians and ties- Dictated under Captain Grath (Naval for Details)

3. Assessment of local gangs: Regulators, Rock Snakes, Black Fangs, Etc

4. Permanent Imperial barracks and recruitment in Capital

PHASE 2: EXECUTION:

1. Recruitment and training of local Imperial militia with weekly stipend under Directive 12B

2. Targeted offensive against organizations identified from Phase 1 Subsections 2 and 3

3. Seizure of all hostile assets and clientele

PHASE 3: EXPANSION

1. Integration of proven militia into Myto Imperial Armed Forces

2. Expansion from Capital to outlying cities; Exarch deployment to nearby systems. Myto fully integrated as Imperial hub planet.

COMMANDER NIK TARSIUS, EXARCH COMMAND 1ST BATTALION ST-096

Smoke rose from the capitol building as the Imperial shuttles took off from the Imperial staging area just outside the congressional district, quickly ascending into the clouds.

"Exarch* command, this is Herc 1-1, requesting code 114 landing- sending transmission code now. Code 114."

The groans of the wounded men juxtaposed the gentle hum of the engines as the ship glided through space, the first moment of peace and quiet in weeks for many of the men and women under his command. The politicians of the system had been apprehended rather smoothly, albeit with the exception of the 4th story firefight with security. All things considered, the operation had been successful. But now... occupation.

He would need to work with Grath as soon as they landed, for one. A pain to be sure, but necessary, if they were to make any sort of progress in the system. They would need more- more ships, more troops, more supply, more power. More communication. More teamwork.

More politics.

He rested his head on the wall and sighed- he could really use a drink right about now. He hadn't had one since he tried to quit altogether, but after this? He wasn't sure if he could continue.

Almost done. You're almost done. Just keep going, and then you can be done.

The shuttle doors hissed open as the crew arrived back on the Exarch.

Home, sweet home.

OOC: Operation Opal is concluded- due tor recent IRL events, I was j=unable to keep up with the thread and have decided instead to play out the narrative here! Feel free to make up the events of the operation here in the aftermath.

IMPERIAL INTELLIGENCE HEADQUARTERS, CORUSCANT - WOMEN'S LOCKER ROOM

I was alone inside the locker room. In fact, this place wasn’t used to seeing much activity beyond the stream of women working at Imperial Intelligence Headquarters changing into uniform in the early morning.

Today however was a little different. I was ditching the old Republic Intelligence uniform for the Empire’s new one.

It was a strange feeling - a lot had changed in recent times on the Galactic Scene: the New Order that was established made various changes in a remarkably small amount of time. Naturally, I had decided to follow along with these.

At first, I foolishly thought this transition was just another administration attempting to strong-arm its way out of a problematic situation, like so many times before in the ever-shifting Republic politics.

I could not have been more wrong. But perhaps I was just that naïve. The idealism that made me chose this career in the first place now seemed … out of place, in the current context.

Regardless, I never said a word, wisely carrying out my duties and not changing my plans. I had decided to join Intelligence to do my part in ending the Clone Wars. Even though it was over, and the Separatist threat silenced, I had chosen to continue on this path, and serve the New Order.

A lot of re-organization had been done since the Emperor’s rise to power. I wasn’t bothered by most of it, though I disapproved the way everything suddenly felt extremely political.

Even though, if I thought back honestly on this, it was already this way during the Clone Wars. It just worsened over time, in no small part thanks to the Emperor’s overzealous hounds at the COMPNOR who worked wonders to that end.

However, no matter how I felt, Duty came first. And while the definition of what proper Duty was in this day and age wasn’t exactly unanimous, to me it was still what I had been taught at the Academy. Everything else was just politics - a dangerous hazard in the way of getting one’s job done properly. Though perhaps thinking I could remain apolitical while working for Intelligence might have been … delusional.

What troubled me the most at this particular moment however was probably by far the most minor of changes, yet a highly symbolic one. That new uniform. The Imperial one, replacing the old Republic’s. Imperial Intelligence had been using since its inception, among other things, what resources Republic Intelligence used to have. Which naturally included the Republic’s uniforms. There was a sense of continuity in that regard. But over time, they had slowly been retired in favor of the new Imperial design, to which my brand-new uniform belonged.

As I finished dressing up I looked at my own reflection in the nearby mirror. The uniform was similar, but unmistakably different from its predecessor. Which in hindsight held true about the New Order as well. I shrugged off the lingering unease, focusing on what laid ahead of me.

I was ready to leave for my assignment out of the capital. The first one ever since I had graduated from the Academy and joined Intelligence. I was as excited as I was terrified at the prospect - excited by the new experiences and opportunities undoubtedly ahead of me, but terrified about leaving my comfort zone which was working planet-side, analysing data, learning and tinkering, though I would likely still get to do all these things … or so I was hoping. I was told to report for duty to a Captain Grath on a ship named the Exarch. Considering the area it patrols, the ship seemed appropriately named, yet I couldn’t help but wonder why I was assigned to this particular one.

Perhaps I was reading too much into it - after all it would be my first time serving on a ship. Yet I feared it might be more. Could have I said or done something that betrayed my feelings on the current state of affairs and let someone take notice and report it? Not that it should matter if I do my job right and keep quiet but … a test perhaps then?
It was pointless to think about it too much at this time. But these questions would bother me for the entire length of trip to the Exarch.

THE EXARCH'S HANGAR BAY

As my shuttle landed in the starship’s hangar, my brain went into overdrive, abuzz with recording every detail of this new situation I found myself in, completely eclipsing the questions that bugged me since before the flight.
Serving on a Starship certainly sounded very exciting, but it wasn’t time to let excitement get the better of me. I would soon have to introduce myself to the Captain and I would have to try not to look too quirky too fast. I never was one for introductions, I always preferred getting straight to the point.

My thoughts were cut short as the ramp leading into the ship’s hangar was lowered and made a distinctive sound once in place. It was time to disembark. I straightened my white uniform before descending the ramp leading to the Exarch, telling myself I felt more confident with every step I took and doing my best to look the part.