Computer Access

Flyboy

 

Name: [UNPRONOUNCEABLE]

 

Callsign: FLYBOY

 

Navy Rank: Line Captain

 

Army Rank: Field Marshall

 

Species: [UNPRONOUNCEABLE]

 

Affiliation: STAR VIPERS Strike Fleet (Imperial Remnant)

 

Navy Positions: Black Ops Squadron Commander: Redemption

 

Army Position: Crimson Army Surpreme Commander

 

Former Affiliations (From Highest to Lowest): Army Division Commander/XO/Third Officer/Solider - 132nd Imperial Grenadiers/Technical Division CO/Navy Roster Master/Wing Commander - Vortex/Wing XO - Inferno/Redemption CO & XO - Redemption/ Pilot - Menace, Centurion, Vortex/Intelligence Officer/Recruitment Team Commander/

 

Ship of choice: Modified INCOM/SUBPRO Z-95 HEADHUNTER FLYBOY'S PRIDE / Modified Sienar Fleet Systems Lambda-class Shuttle Lightening Dove

 

Weapon of Choice: PERSONAL LIGHTSABER-SPECS-BLADE: PURPLE-DOUBLE SIDED

GENTACH'A BLADE

 

Hair Color: DARK BROWN

 

Eye Color: GREEN

 

Age: 36 BASIC YEARS

 

Medals: GRADUATING TOP OF CLASS AT IMPERIAL ACADEMY/MEDAL OF SERVITUDE x2/BRONZE STAR//MEDAL OF SERVICE/VIPER'S TAIL

 

Life History (Exc. from Capt. Flyboy's Personal Files):

A long time ago, during the dawn of a new age, a race was born. This race is my people. We were a group of human looking people, with slight differences. For example, we were attuned to the force in such a way that our bodies and organs needed the force to function. Another example is that our vocal and hearing ranges are slightly broader than that of normal humans due to differences in evolution and so on. Our planet was a beautiful, tropical jungle of a world with many deep, blue oceans and soaring mountains. We lived quiet, peaceful lives as we were mainly scientists and philosophers. There was one thing lacking in the universe, and that was other species. There were very few other races that were as advanced as us, but they are no more. One fateful day, a new species popped into this galaxy from somewhere far away. They came in great bone ships and laid waste to my people. They called themselves the Kul’du’Bck, but we knew them as the Predators. They destroyed our sister planet with their great weapons and then moved on to our home. The majority of our once glorious race was slaughtered or taken to the great ships as food. A few hundred escaped the onslaught and fled to the corners of the galaxy, but our world was dieing. The destruction of our sister planet sent the orbit of our home world into disarray, and over the centuries and millennia the forests and jungles gave way to ice and snow. The predators left, never to be heard from again and it was never known why they did this terrible act. The remainders of our race began to intertwine into the infant human population that was blossoming on their home planet. Over time, the younger species of the galaxy began to venture out and meet one another, and we once again took to the stars. The last remaining purebloods banded together centuries later and built a space vehicle repair station close to where our home planet was. The site they chose was near another planet soon to become famous named Bespin. It was there where I was born. I was given a name of our ancestry, one that is very hard to explain to species because of the unique vocals our people have. But again, fate was not with us. In my third year of life, the station was attacked by a band of pirates and mercenaries named the Blood Fighters. They all but destroyed the station. My parents had the forethought to put me in an escape pod and launch it when the fighting began. Out of the fifty or so people left of my race, I became the sole survivor. One thing that still surprises me is that the pirates found my pod and ultimately me and took me to there home. As fate would have it, their home was in an asteroid that was once part of the sister planet I spoke of earlier. And that piece of rock was orbiting the world that my people had called home oh so long ago; only it was now called Hoth. I grew up with new family, forgiving them at an early age for what they had done. There were mitigating circumstances in this affair that I won’t get into just yet. The clan leader took me as his son and my life was one of privilege, for a pirate anyway. I earned my name, though, when I was about twelve or so. I was able to get into my first fighter cockpit and the others had a real hard time trying to get me out of it. After my first dogfight the people named me Flyboy. But again, as my story goes, fate had another twist. A few years later, a rival pirate group named the Wolves decided to invade us. They came in force, and all of us fought with all our might. We were ultimately destroyed, though a few of us escaped. Apparently, the local Imperial force heard of this battle and sent a warship to quell it. They only made it in time to finish off the wolves, as there were no more Blood Fighters left to fight except for me. I followed them to their base and joined up for a fighter pilot. I quickly climbed the ranks and earned my first command rather early. Later, I returned to the Rancor Pit, the asteroid base of the pirates, and was met with another surprise. The remnant of the Blood Fighters had formed their own group named the Ghost Fighters. I joined my comrades and, after a while, we built up a base and developed this business in which you are now standing in. My friends and I have formed a tight bond and we each share in the responsibilities that come from managing this place as we each have a specific and important job to fulfill. But one thing still bothers me, and that is simply my heritage. I continue to search the universe of any knowledge of my race, but I seldom locate anything of use. But still, at night during the times when I am neither awake nor asleep, I can’t help but have a feeling that the greatest and most terrifying part of my people’s story has not come to pass, but it is coming quickly. I only hope that I will be ready to fulfill my part when the time comes.

END OF FILE