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- Jun 4, 2009
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LYNWOOD AKIN
“In war, soldiers are victims to the greater scheme. They are trained to fight, trained to uphold honor above all else. Honor means sacrifice, sacrifice means death, either theirs or ours. Soldiers are bound to the power of death, reaping what can’t be given. We fear war more than any, for we sacrifice what makes us who we are to become a reaper of men.”
― LYNWOOD AKIN
BASIC INFORMATION
AFFILIATION
The Rebellion
RANK
Rebel Pilot
AGE
29
SPECIES
Human
GENDER
MALE
HEIGHT
70 inches
WEIGHT
170 lbs.
BUILD
Average height and muscular build
HAIR COLOR
Brown
EYE COLOR
Brown
FORCE SENSITIVE?
Negative
ONE YEAR AGO
c
Recently demoted, 2nd Lieutenant Akin gasped awake to the scramble alarm sounding off throughout the barracks. As he was trained, he tore out of his top bunk with breakneck speed, narrowly avoiding his bunkmate and putting on his boots as soon as his feet touched the ground. A quick moment later he grabbed his sleek black TIE fighter helmet and was out the door behind Echo-one, his squadron leader.
It was a drill, he knew it was, there hadn’t been anyone stupid enough to fight against the nearly a decade. Not since the Empire had decimated the Alliance and the Jedi… He could clearly remember catching the contrails of an alliance starship down range, firing a blaze of green death, watching the salvo of fire hit home, and scoring his first kill as the vessel careened off course into the hull of its own carrier. Though as invigorating as it was, at the time he had only thought of the glory and the honor of what it meant to serve. Now his mind haunted him with imagined screams of the death he had dealt during the war.
With a rush, he was brought out his haze as Echo-one shouted something directed at him. Lynwood looked around him, realizing he was in the hangar and the rest of his squadron was well on their way into their cockpits. Echo-one's face contorted with frustration realizing his point was lost on the 9 year vet. He repeated his orders.
“Echo-Six! Get to your interceptor, we’ve got some low life pirates that have decided our star destroyer would be good target practice.”
Wide eyed, Lynwood ran to his ship, sliding his hand across the 23 various ships painted on the side of the familiar hull as he ran past. He had the most confirmed kills of the entire ship, despite his standing with his superiors. A few seconds later, he was up the ladder and beginning his start up sequence. In less than two minutes his ship was out of the bay, flying towards the radar blips with the rest of his squadron.
Flights of fighters spewed forth from three pirate frigates in reply to their star destroyer’s own swarm. Once again Echo-One barked out orders over confidently.
“Echo Flight, Claw formation. We’re going to screen until just before we reach them and then scramble. The Star destroyer is going to use the cover to maneuver its turbo lasers to fire when we get out of the way.”
In reply Lynwood took his position in the flight, following off the wing of Echo-two. As they closed in, Lynwood felt his controls seize up and his cockpit lights blink red. He keyed for comm but his transmit capability was offline. In a slight panic, he quickly tried to run a diagnostic. In bold across his readout, the words read “Sorry Akin, your recent outbursts towards the higher ups gave Echo a bad reputation. Can’t let you bring us all into your delusions. Don’t worry, Echo two won’t miss you too much.”
“Break in 3...”
He felt his skin grow cold from the realization that he was going to die.
“… 2…”
His eyes began to water, his thoughts racing through his mind. Was he happy with his life? Did he deserve this? Was this really how it was going to end?
“… 1!”
The rest of Echo Squadron scattered away, pulling tight turns to avoid the oncoming barrage of turbo-laser fire. He alone flew towards the incoming swarm of pirate fighters. His cockpit sparked and shook hard from a near hit from one of the Star Destroyer’s powerful beams as it tore past him. The blast sent his craft tumbling through space until it came to hit one of the Pirates vessels. He jerked forward, felt immense pain as his helmet cracked onto his controls, and then all went dark…
Lynwood awoke to complete darkness and the faint but distinct smell of fried circuitry. He leaned up off the dead control suite, his body shaking from the combination of blood loss and cold. A bright white light suddenly lit his cockpit. Lethargically, he rose a hand to combat the blinding light but his body gave way and he blacked out again.
c
Violet Five spun off course just meters away, his engines set ablaze from a rear hit. Lynwood cursed under his breath watching the kid’s craft become a fireball, his gruesome screams erupting over the comms. Despite this he kept formation, pulling up next to Violet Lead. He heard the familiar voices of Violet Eight and Ten, their ships meeting similar fates.
“Stay together!” Violet Lead shouted over the destruction of Violet Squadron.
“Shields down!” Violet Eleven screamed in reply, a loud intermittent warning alarm sounding in the background. “Missile lock, I’ve gotta break off-“
Lynwood turned in his cockpit to see his friends X-wing erupt in a fiery explosion. However, there was seldom time to mourn in battle. He clinched his teeth, his early warning alarm sounding. Just a bit longer. His ship shuddered at a glancing hit. Almost there.
“Scatter now!”
Lynwood immediately tore off his original trajectory, executing a slide and drop maneuver, his pursuer over shooting him completely. He exhaled an unconsciously held breath and tightened his grip on the controls. Though not as nimble as his old TIE, Lynwood expertly maneuvered his ship through the debris field, fleeing for the safety of cover. Weaving through the shattered hulls, he caught a glimpse of the of one of the new QIE fightercraft. Once again, he hit the thrust, vectoring himself to sideswipe the lone fighter. A few heartbeats later and his cross hairs locked on. He fired. Screams plagued his imagination as he held down the trigger and ripped the enemy fighter to shreds. Even after the fighter's debris joined the field, the phantoms still haunted him.
Glancing as he passed by the wreckage, he whispered, "Sorry friend..." and continued back to the battle.
PERSONALITY
Standing just shy of six feet tall, Lynwood Akin fails to stand out in a crowd. That is, if his accent, his eccentric style, and facial scarring were not present. Generally straight faced and proper to a fault, the war veteran can be hard to read. Even among friends his calm demeanor is intimidating making him less approachable than most other rebel imperials. Commonly, he is only seen as friend to his squadron mates and is at best kept an arms-length away from all other rebel personnel.
Lynwood has been the subject of a lot of hate since choosing to stay with the rebellion, partly due to his unfavorable status as an Empire war veteran and the rest falling on his confirmed kills as a TIE pilot. He outwardly ignores the scorn of the other rebels but truthfully, he doesn’t really fault them. Lynwood believes he has wronged many people in his relatively short life and makes strides to redeem those actions. He has come to terms with a majority of his past but his kills are a topic he struggles with on even a day to day basis at times. Most days he’s fine, though a few here and there are stricken with depression and drinking.
Lynwood takes his responsibilities very seriously and is dependable in most situations, even on the fly. He see’s value in security and stability and focuses heavily on them. Lynwood see’s before most others what needs to be done, and does whatever it takes to make sure that it gets done. His sense of duty led him to the imperial military in the first place.
Lynwood had the benefit of being raised and surrounded by his family. Like his parents, his beliefs are ethical and centered around genuine goodness. With his hardened outer shell shedded away, he is among the kindest, most generous souls who will gladly give you the shirt off of their back without a second thought.
“In war, soldiers are victims to the greater scheme. They are trained to fight, trained to uphold honor above all else. Honor means sacrifice, sacrifice means death, either theirs or ours. Soldiers are bound to the power of death, reaping what can’t be given. We fear war more than any, for we sacrifice what makes us who we are to become a reaper of men.”
― LYNWOOD AKIN
BASIC INFORMATION
AFFILIATION
The Rebellion
RANK
Rebel Pilot
AGE
29
SPECIES
Human
GENDER
MALE
HEIGHT
70 inches
WEIGHT
170 lbs.
BUILD
Average height and muscular build
HAIR COLOR
Brown
EYE COLOR
Brown
FORCE SENSITIVE?
Negative
ONE YEAR AGO
|
Recently demoted, 2nd Lieutenant Akin gasped awake to the scramble alarm sounding off throughout the barracks. As he was trained, he tore out of his top bunk with breakneck speed, narrowly avoiding his bunkmate and putting on his boots as soon as his feet touched the ground. A quick moment later he grabbed his sleek black TIE fighter helmet and was out the door behind Echo-one, his squadron leader.
It was a drill, he knew it was, there hadn’t been anyone stupid enough to fight against the nearly a decade. Not since the Empire had decimated the Alliance and the Jedi… He could clearly remember catching the contrails of an alliance starship down range, firing a blaze of green death, watching the salvo of fire hit home, and scoring his first kill as the vessel careened off course into the hull of its own carrier. Though as invigorating as it was, at the time he had only thought of the glory and the honor of what it meant to serve. Now his mind haunted him with imagined screams of the death he had dealt during the war.
With a rush, he was brought out his haze as Echo-one shouted something directed at him. Lynwood looked around him, realizing he was in the hangar and the rest of his squadron was well on their way into their cockpits. Echo-one's face contorted with frustration realizing his point was lost on the 9 year vet. He repeated his orders.
“Echo-Six! Get to your interceptor, we’ve got some low life pirates that have decided our star destroyer would be good target practice.”
Wide eyed, Lynwood ran to his ship, sliding his hand across the 23 various ships painted on the side of the familiar hull as he ran past. He had the most confirmed kills of the entire ship, despite his standing with his superiors. A few seconds later, he was up the ladder and beginning his start up sequence. In less than two minutes his ship was out of the bay, flying towards the radar blips with the rest of his squadron.
Flights of fighters spewed forth from three pirate frigates in reply to their star destroyer’s own swarm. Once again Echo-One barked out orders over confidently.
“Echo Flight, Claw formation. We’re going to screen until just before we reach them and then scramble. The Star destroyer is going to use the cover to maneuver its turbo lasers to fire when we get out of the way.”
In reply Lynwood took his position in the flight, following off the wing of Echo-two. As they closed in, Lynwood felt his controls seize up and his cockpit lights blink red. He keyed for comm but his transmit capability was offline. In a slight panic, he quickly tried to run a diagnostic. In bold across his readout, the words read “Sorry Akin, your recent outbursts towards the higher ups gave Echo a bad reputation. Can’t let you bring us all into your delusions. Don’t worry, Echo two won’t miss you too much.”
“Break in 3...”
He felt his skin grow cold from the realization that he was going to die.
“… 2…”
His eyes began to water, his thoughts racing through his mind. Was he happy with his life? Did he deserve this? Was this really how it was going to end?
“… 1!”
The rest of Echo Squadron scattered away, pulling tight turns to avoid the oncoming barrage of turbo-laser fire. He alone flew towards the incoming swarm of pirate fighters. His cockpit sparked and shook hard from a near hit from one of the Star Destroyer’s powerful beams as it tore past him. The blast sent his craft tumbling through space until it came to hit one of the Pirates vessels. He jerked forward, felt immense pain as his helmet cracked onto his controls, and then all went dark…
Lynwood awoke to complete darkness and the faint but distinct smell of fried circuitry. He leaned up off the dead control suite, his body shaking from the combination of blood loss and cold. A bright white light suddenly lit his cockpit. Lethargically, he rose a hand to combat the blinding light but his body gave way and he blacked out again.
THE BATTLE OF NABOO
|
Violet Five spun off course just meters away, his engines set ablaze from a rear hit. Lynwood cursed under his breath watching the kid’s craft become a fireball, his gruesome screams erupting over the comms. Despite this he kept formation, pulling up next to Violet Lead. He heard the familiar voices of Violet Eight and Ten, their ships meeting similar fates.
“Stay together!” Violet Lead shouted over the destruction of Violet Squadron.
“Shields down!” Violet Eleven screamed in reply, a loud intermittent warning alarm sounding in the background. “Missile lock, I’ve gotta break off-“
Lynwood turned in his cockpit to see his friends X-wing erupt in a fiery explosion. However, there was seldom time to mourn in battle. He clinched his teeth, his early warning alarm sounding. Just a bit longer. His ship shuddered at a glancing hit. Almost there.
“Scatter now!”
Lynwood immediately tore off his original trajectory, executing a slide and drop maneuver, his pursuer over shooting him completely. He exhaled an unconsciously held breath and tightened his grip on the controls. Though not as nimble as his old TIE, Lynwood expertly maneuvered his ship through the debris field, fleeing for the safety of cover. Weaving through the shattered hulls, he caught a glimpse of the of one of the new QIE fightercraft. Once again, he hit the thrust, vectoring himself to sideswipe the lone fighter. A few heartbeats later and his cross hairs locked on. He fired. Screams plagued his imagination as he held down the trigger and ripped the enemy fighter to shreds. Even after the fighter's debris joined the field, the phantoms still haunted him.
Glancing as he passed by the wreckage, he whispered, "Sorry friend..." and continued back to the battle.
PERSONALITY
Standing just shy of six feet tall, Lynwood Akin fails to stand out in a crowd. That is, if his accent, his eccentric style, and facial scarring were not present. Generally straight faced and proper to a fault, the war veteran can be hard to read. Even among friends his calm demeanor is intimidating making him less approachable than most other rebel imperials. Commonly, he is only seen as friend to his squadron mates and is at best kept an arms-length away from all other rebel personnel.
Lynwood has been the subject of a lot of hate since choosing to stay with the rebellion, partly due to his unfavorable status as an Empire war veteran and the rest falling on his confirmed kills as a TIE pilot. He outwardly ignores the scorn of the other rebels but truthfully, he doesn’t really fault them. Lynwood believes he has wronged many people in his relatively short life and makes strides to redeem those actions. He has come to terms with a majority of his past but his kills are a topic he struggles with on even a day to day basis at times. Most days he’s fine, though a few here and there are stricken with depression and drinking.
Lynwood takes his responsibilities very seriously and is dependable in most situations, even on the fly. He see’s value in security and stability and focuses heavily on them. Lynwood see’s before most others what needs to be done, and does whatever it takes to make sure that it gets done. His sense of duty led him to the imperial military in the first place.
Lynwood had the benefit of being raised and surrounded by his family. Like his parents, his beliefs are ethical and centered around genuine goodness. With his hardened outer shell shedded away, he is among the kindest, most generous souls who will gladly give you the shirt off of their back without a second thought.
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