Zorne Kisgart

Zorne Kisgart
Military Information
Callsign:	Boss or Old Man
Rank:	Chief Petty Officer
Position:	Flight Member A-2
Flight:	Alpha
Squadron:	Chlovi
Wing:	101st Blade
Ship:	ISD Adjudicator
Fleet:	Second Fleet
Division:	Navy
Affiliation:	Vast Empire
Physical Description
Gender:	Male
Height:	6'2, 1.876 meters
Weight:	225 lbs, 102 kg (Muscular)
Hair Color:	Black, greying
Facial Hair:	Clean Shaven
Eyes:	Blue
Scar(s):	One up the right side of his neck where a piece of shrapnel nicked his artery, nearly killing him
Tattoo:	Starfighter Corps tattoo on his upper right arm, unidentified personal tattoo on his upper left.
Biographical Information
Species:	Human
Homeworld:	Abrae
Age:	42
Languages:	Basic (Fluent), Huttese (skilled), numerous various curses
Occupation:	Starfighter pilot
Hobbies:	Napping, gambling, smoking
Residence:	House on Abrae
Family:	No living relatives
Motto:	Nobody gets left behind
Fighting Style:	Street/brawling
Naval Certifications
First Certification
Second Certification
Third Certification
Fourth Certification
Ship Captaincy Certification
Ancillary Skills

Current status

Currently a Flight Member in Chlovi squadron. Active duty. (THIS IS AN NPC WHO WILL RECEIVE NO PROMOTIONS OR RANK CHANGES)

Biography

The following is taken directly from a personal narration done by Zorne:

What can I say? I was born during the waning days of the Republic on a little planet that was, at the time, completely inconsequential. My father was a successful officer in the Republic Navy and, eventually, got command of a small fleet. As a boy, he always pushed me towards the navy. He did anything from take me on missions to use his influence to get me into various lessons. See, my family is descended from business people of some sort, making us fairly affluential. It's all a load of osik, though. Dad worked hard and taught us values.

Well, while I was still a boy the Empire took the place of the Republic. Nothing much changed, though. The war was over and we were safe from the threats that existed. Dad kept his position and I was placed in some form of database. They were going to watch my development and, when I was old enough, put me into the Academy. No matter who I was related to, I couldn't get into a command position and I didn't want to be in one, anyway. I knew too much about the abuse of power and how out of touch one gets as soon as they gain a rank. Even if it meant I'd always be in harm's way, I'd rather work hard than be tempted by power.

Regardless, at the age of 18 I was sent off to the Empire, away from everything I knew and into a new world. Due to my background, I was much more than cannon fodder and the training officers noticed. Even though they gave me rigorous tasks, I passed with flying colors. Eventually, I ended up being in the top 5% of my class, which landed me a spot in the Starfighter Corps as a TIE pilot. I was happy. I got to fly, which I'd always been partial to.

You know? My career under the Galactic Empire flew by. I remember parts, sure, but the day-to-day is lost. When I first joined, I was assigned to a 'green' squadron. Nobody knew what to do when the crap hit the fan, and I was included. We each developed our own roles. While others were medics, or comedians, I, despite my young age, became the squadron's father figure. I never knew what I was doing. I never knew how I made them feel so secure, like they could do anything. To be honest, I just emulated my father. When we lost someone, I was there to pick everyone up. I was there to dust them off, pick them up, and put them back on their speeder bike. When someone screwed up, I doled out punishment that fit. I was never harsh, though sometimes I felt like I was the bad guy. I made sure to be fair, and to help whoever had screwed up rather than punish them and never talk to them again. When the brass had shafted us, I made sure to take their complaints up the chain and I always made sure to tell the chain to shove it where the sun don't shine.

It was for these reasons that the squadron looked up to me. It was for these same reasons, however, that the brass hated me. They didn't consider me for promotion, they didn't consider me for transfers, they didn't consider me for anything. Well, I didn't have a problem with it. My boys were still with me. Every time the brass had a problem, they'd take it to the SC. Well, the SC'd take it to me and ask me to deal with it. The brass never had the problem again. Well, unless it was something dealing with me. In those cases, the SC'd take the issue to me and I'd sit the squadron, SC included, down and have a nice long talk about how I intimidated the brass, along with a couple dozen other issues that would probably have gotten me shot if the talks were spoken of in front of the brass. We'd share a nice laugh and everything would go back to normal.

And so I stayed for decades, as my boys advanced and went their own ways after they proved that they could survive and would be good for the Empire. I kept tabs on all of them, though. It didn't matter if they went halfway across the galaxy to command a new squadron or if they went into ISB. I'd always talk to them, help them through their problems, give them advice. Even if they weren't to contact anyone, they knew I was safe. I kept more mission critical, classified intelligence over the course of my career than most Moffs or Generals thought existed. I made sure to keep the comm lines secure, though, and I used my resources to do so. My own comlink, holoprojector, and the like, combined with other equipment to secure lines from the Empire. I gave each of my boys my personal comlink number, which I had wired into my helmet to allow for both squadron communication during a mission and my own set of secure communication.

My boys would often comm for short times, as they didn't have the freedom that I did. I always picked up if they called, even if it was in the middle of a briefing or during a dogfight. I explained my decision to constantly wear my helmet as dedication to the Empire and a sense of appreciation for what I had, as well as a good luck charm. Nobody asked questions, anyway. They knew that Raven squadron had higher-than-average survival rates and they knew not to mess with Papa Kisgart, not if they didn't want to spend a few days in medbay.

It went like that for the entire existence of the Empire, though it was to come to an end. With the death of the Emperor and the rise of the New Republic, we were all unemployed. Well, we were technically employed, but we were separated. I kept my head down but my eyes up, making sure to examine each of the fragments for potential. A number seemed possible, but all ended up being as bad or worse than the original Empire.

Eventually, I found out about the Vast Empire. After doing my research, discreetly, of course, and contacting a number of recruiters and enlisted personnel, I decided that it was the way to go. The problem was, however, that my boys were still halfway across the galaxy. I had to help them fake their deaths and, as I was still under one of the warlords, I hired others to smuggle them to the Vast Empire lines. It had to happen gradually, lest we risk being discovered. These boys still had family, after all, and the warlords wouldn't hesitate to go after them. Only when everyone was accounted for and safe would I leave.

Nearly 8 years later, here I am. I've only been here for 2 years, but my boys have been here longer. Tales of me have, most likely, spread across the VE. I could point out where each of them are assigned, as well as their names, but that'd betray their trust and I won't give them away without their permission, not under threat of death. Whelp, I think I hear my new squadron coming. With the expansion of the VE's SFC, I get to be in Chovi or Clove or however the hell you say it.

Appearance

Zorne is tall, though his muscular tone and form make it clear that he keeps himself in top shape. (The rest is above, in the infobox)

Personality

Zorne, as the father figure of every squadron that he's in, is quite accepting and is quick to bring new arrivals or transfers into the fold. After the two have developed a trusting relationship, Zorne tends to give out his contact information. He loves his 'boys' and acts as a traditional father would.

Service History

Ranks

Ranks
Insignia	Rank	Start	Until	Reason for Promotion
	Chief Petty Officer	12 ABY		Joined the VE Navy, previous experience, and bringing nearly two dozen over the span of 8 years.

Positions

Positions
Position	Start	Until	Reason
Flight Member	12 ABY		Joined the VE Navy

Story Participation Log

Story Participation
Story	Start Date	End Date	Type	Post Count
Story Name	Date the story was begun, and (optionally) the date you first posted to the story	?	Story Type (ranging from Personal - Character Development, to Squadron - Raptor, to Division - Navy)	0
Total:				0