- Joined
- Jun 19, 2012
- Messages
- 738
- Reaction score
- 0
NAME: Jeren Sansiri
FACTION: Galactic Alliance
RANK: Flight Officer (Pending Approval)
SPECIES: Human (native to Alassa Major)
AGE: 29 Galactic Standard Years Old
GENDER: Male
HEIGHT: 5'10
WEIGHT: 158lbs
EYES: Blue-Green
HAIR: Brown
SKIN: Caucasian
FORCE SENSITIVE: No
COMPOSITION AND APPEARANCE
Standing at 5'10, Jeren is not the most imposing of individuals, though he keeps a straight posture except when sitting in relaxation, and makes considerable effort to make sure he is never thought of as such. He does his utmost to keep himself in good shape, using a strict regime of exercise picked up during Alliance Military training, always starting his morning with a run and a half-hour in the gym, where available, and keeping his diet well-regulated (even if it often is less appealing than he'd like, as ship-board meals aren't usually that good!).
Apart from a handful of scars obtained through training and various combat situations over the years, Jeren doesn't possess any particular markings that might be used to distinguish him at first glance. He occasionally suffers from problems with mobility in his left arm, having severely dislocated his shoulder during a training exercise in his second year at the Academy. He generally keeps his hair short, retaining a standard military cut, although he maintains that it is only because he doesn't like taking off his flight helmet to find his hair a mess. He always remains clean shaven.
His expression is almost always open and friendly, and it's rare that he can be found without a smile on his face, though it's often a smile somewhat contorted by the gentle mockery that makes up the larger part of his sense of humour. He has unusual blue-green eyes and tend to change between the two colours depending on the light absorbed by the pupils, and he often maintains that they're his best feature (and the rest of him!).
His usual clothing consists mostly of appropriate uniform, his orange Navy-issue flightsuit being the usual go-to, simply because it means he doesn't have to worry about getting changed whenever he's called to the flight deck. When not engaged in flight operations, he tends to wear standard GA duty uniform or switch to something more suitably casual, depending on where he happens to be at the time. As with most starfighter pilots, he has an abhorrence for formal dress uniform, and seeks to avoid all opportunities to have to wear it, if he can safely get away with it.
Although never particularly comfortable with the need for it, he also carries a K8 Heavy Blaster Pistol on his belt unless off-duty, preferring a good single shot to a weapon with a higher rate of fire, though he's yet to ever actually use one for combat. As far as he's concerned, the only value of such a thing is as a deterrant, but wears one because regulations require it anyway.
PERSONALITY
If Jeren could be said to have one major flaw, it would be in that he is often his own worst critic, tending to mull over his own mistakes and problems more than is perhaps healthy, at least as far as his overall equilibrium is concerned. Admittedly, such a thing originates with his desire to ensure that he does well, but it tends to create issues when he doesn't feel he's quite up to standard on what he is doing, which can lead him to over-compensate for perceived deficiencies. Unfortunately, since he tends to hold himself to such strict standards means he tends to expect the best of everyone around him, and that can create a little tension on occasion. That noted, he tries not to be too vocal of his thoughts where possible, preferring instead to keep his reservations to himself.
When not worrying over such things, the pilot does tend to be relatively relaxed in terms of his overall approach to people, even if he does prefer to keep things more formal and courteous, rather than simply lapsing into a familiarity that he otherwise feels uncomfortable with. The only real exception to the rule tends to be with the members of his own squadron, since he doesn't agree that it would be possible to trust other people so regularly with each other's safety and yet continue to remain aloof, so there is often a marked difference in his attitudes to them and to people not included within that group.
As a rule, he can be considered to be somewhat monomaniacal, if not a complete workaholic. Several duty evaluations have remarked on this in a critical nature, suggesting that he's likely to burn himself out if things continue in that manner, and though he's always thought to take these on-board, it's done little to change his actual routine. What is often not noted is that he feels most at ease when working, and tends to lighten the otherwise serious mood with the occasional joke or by engaging in banter with his fellow pilots or his astromech droid.
Jeren does maintain a rather dry sense of humour, and is not completely immune from the ego-generated fighter-jock humour that most pilots tend to indulge in. On several occasions, he's found himself the butt of a practical joke, but also will respond in kind when he feels it will serve to build camaraderie. That said, he feels chain of command is important to working as a unit, so he only matches wits in such a respect with his peers, never with superior officers.
In the cockpit, he tends to be calm and methodical, adopting a manner that seems far removed from his usual attitude, thinking his way through a situation rather than acting on his feelings. His temper is fairly non-existant, and he doesn't like to take things personally, particularly when flying. Every pilot is just there to do their duty, so he never feels any animosity against anyone he's flown and fought against, and often regrets the necessity of having to fire on others, not that he loses sleep over it.
BIOGRAPHY
Childhood
I was born on Alassa Major a fair few years ago now, come to think of it. Getting old, you know. My parents were both resort workers - well, living there, who wasn't? They own a hotel, though it's pretty small and not, as you might imagine, a particularly fun place to grow up around. We actually lived in a set of apartments just down the street, but because they had the business to manage, we usually ended up being raised by one parent or the other. Having both together for longer than a few days was fairly rare, particularly once we started in at school.
Oh, by 'we', I mean myself and my younger sister, Taila. She's only a couple of years younger than me, so I guess my parents weren't as put off from the experience of raising me in the early years to be averse to more kids. Luckily it was just the two of us, though. Too many siblings would have just been a serious pain in the butt - you can see what it did to those kids with 4 or 5 of them, and I never wanted to be in that boat.
My Dad and I didn't really get along - since Taila was around, it was always his view that I had to be the responsible older brother. That was fine some of the time, and my sister didn't exactly make it hard work, but I guess when people have too many expectations put on their shoulders, it starts to grate a little. We spent a fair few years exchanging maybe a few sentences in conversation in passing - how're you doing? Had a good day? That sort of thing. It was pretty cold between us, and I think we both came to regret that later on, but what can you do? Kids are terrible judges of character sometimes. Don't think I was any exception.
Mom died when I was fifteen. I didn't take it as hard as Talia did, but those two had always been pretty close, and she was only thirteen at the time, so she didn't really know how to handle it. Couldn't say I did, either, but I've always been able to put a better face on things than she could. So that made for a rough couple of years after that - getting over it, working out how we were going to manage without her and so on. Of course it meant Dad was the de-facto single parent, and that sure didn't help matters. Could have done without that, for sure.
Education and Career
School was pretty much what you'd expect: learned your basics, everything from Mathematics, which I was surprisingly good at, to Art, which I wasn't. My sister was way more artistic than me, but I never had an eye for it. Can't count the number of times she'd come home and try to draw my attention to a painting or a sculpture she'd seen and my response would be along the lines of "Yup, it's a person. Standing in a field of flowers. How nice." I guess I was always more technically-minded.
As soon as I left school and was of the right age, I signed up for the Coruscani Pilot Institute on Coruscant. Took me a little far from home, which could only be a good thing, but I'd always been told with my head for mathematics, piloting would be a good career choice. You know, we may have droids, but a good pilot still needs to be able to navigate effectively, and hyperspace navigation is no easy thing to work out. If your astromech gets blown out, you have to be able to plot your own courses, you know. Anyway, you can probably blame the GA for that one anyway - they were always sending people along to the career days to try and recruit new people. I elected to go for an independent flight school first, though, because that was more focused. Three years there, then a year at the Galactic Alliance Fleet Academy, also on Coruscant. Convenient.
Naval piloting had zero appeal, as it turned out. I guess you could say I'm an adrenaline junkie, and you'd be partly right, some of the time, but I didn't like the idea of sitting behind a console on a bridge, very much insulated from the actual fighting. And, the way I figured, if you're gonna serve in the military, you've got to be prepared to get your hands dirty. So I focused mostly on small ship piloting: starfighter operations, put simply. Learning to fly everything from those antiquated Y-Wing Bombers to modern R-25's.
The fourth year was really the hardest, because that was Officer Training, not the piloting work I'd done for much of the previous three. We had to learn to represent the military, right down to how to wear the dress uniform, which order insignia and medals went in, oh, and how to eat properly at formal command dinners. Then there's military protocol, the proper way to salute an officer, tactical planning sessions, even history of the GA. Some of it was tiresome beyond belief, but it was a good experience all the same.
So, graduation came and I was commissioned as a Flight Officer and assigned to serve aboard GAS Redoubtable, an Indominable-class Assault Frigate. Sounds fancy, but it really wasn't - those old buckets mostly served escort duty or long-range patrol. There was only squadron aboard, too, so things were a little more relaxed than they probably would have been on a bigger ship - when you've got no friendly competition except in your own ranks, things ease up a lot. Interesting experience, and it's there that you really understand the stakes you're playing for as a pilot. You get taken out plenty of times in simulators when you're training, but in space, you don't get a second chance if you get vaped. That puts you a little on edge.
Served two and a half years about Redoubtable, until Mon Calamari. We'd gotten word that pirates had been using the dead planet to stage attacks into the hyperspace routes towards Munto Codru, not to mention the occasional foray into the Mid Rim and Tion Hegemony. Guess the brass figured an Assault Frigate would get the job done, so there we went. Didn't expect a bunch of gunships to show up and blow the hull plating off. We went out, fought one hell of a battle, lost over a third of our pilots and nearly lost the ship itself, but we managed to jump out before they could take it out. Sorry thing was that the Navy scuttled her shortly after that, because the repairs needed would have been too extensive.
After that, I had a short stay as a member of a patrol squadron overseeing the Bilbringi Shipyards, and then joined the 39th Tactical Wing out of Anaxes. That's where I got introduced to Gizmo, or R9-C2 as he's properly referred to. Traditionally you don't name an astromech until they're permanently assigned to you - I'd had several droids aboard the Redoubtable, since we switched them out between the squadron, so Gizmo was my first personal astromech.
Think we between us, we've flown more than our fair share of combat missions since then - our wing gets called upon for pretty much any trouble this side of the Core, but since our fighters are all hyperdrive-equipped, we can go as far as we're needed. Which, with the Sith Imperium flying around, seemed to be quite often. Even flown with a few Jedi on occasion. I don't much approve of their dress code but, man, can they fly.
Long story short, came in due for a transfer recently, and I hear the infamous Rogue Wing has a few spots available for anyone suicidal enough to seek a slot. Probably a lot of other pilots gunning for it, despite the ridiculously high turn-over in pilots they seem to have compared to every other squadron, but that's because they're the best, and that means they get thrown at the most dangerous missions going. I figure if I'm going to advance my career, that's the best way to go about it, so I put in my transfer request papers this morning.
And, yes, Gizmo's going with me. Can't exactly let myself get blown out of the cockpit if he's not right behind me. Just wouldn't feel right.
ROLE-PLAYS
None yet.
FACTION: Galactic Alliance
RANK: Flight Officer (Pending Approval)
SPECIES: Human (native to Alassa Major)
AGE: 29 Galactic Standard Years Old
GENDER: Male
HEIGHT: 5'10
WEIGHT: 158lbs
EYES: Blue-Green
HAIR: Brown
SKIN: Caucasian
FORCE SENSITIVE: No
COMPOSITION AND APPEARANCE
Standing at 5'10, Jeren is not the most imposing of individuals, though he keeps a straight posture except when sitting in relaxation, and makes considerable effort to make sure he is never thought of as such. He does his utmost to keep himself in good shape, using a strict regime of exercise picked up during Alliance Military training, always starting his morning with a run and a half-hour in the gym, where available, and keeping his diet well-regulated (even if it often is less appealing than he'd like, as ship-board meals aren't usually that good!).
Apart from a handful of scars obtained through training and various combat situations over the years, Jeren doesn't possess any particular markings that might be used to distinguish him at first glance. He occasionally suffers from problems with mobility in his left arm, having severely dislocated his shoulder during a training exercise in his second year at the Academy. He generally keeps his hair short, retaining a standard military cut, although he maintains that it is only because he doesn't like taking off his flight helmet to find his hair a mess. He always remains clean shaven.
His expression is almost always open and friendly, and it's rare that he can be found without a smile on his face, though it's often a smile somewhat contorted by the gentle mockery that makes up the larger part of his sense of humour. He has unusual blue-green eyes and tend to change between the two colours depending on the light absorbed by the pupils, and he often maintains that they're his best feature (and the rest of him!).
His usual clothing consists mostly of appropriate uniform, his orange Navy-issue flightsuit being the usual go-to, simply because it means he doesn't have to worry about getting changed whenever he's called to the flight deck. When not engaged in flight operations, he tends to wear standard GA duty uniform or switch to something more suitably casual, depending on where he happens to be at the time. As with most starfighter pilots, he has an abhorrence for formal dress uniform, and seeks to avoid all opportunities to have to wear it, if he can safely get away with it.
Although never particularly comfortable with the need for it, he also carries a K8 Heavy Blaster Pistol on his belt unless off-duty, preferring a good single shot to a weapon with a higher rate of fire, though he's yet to ever actually use one for combat. As far as he's concerned, the only value of such a thing is as a deterrant, but wears one because regulations require it anyway.
PERSONALITY
If Jeren could be said to have one major flaw, it would be in that he is often his own worst critic, tending to mull over his own mistakes and problems more than is perhaps healthy, at least as far as his overall equilibrium is concerned. Admittedly, such a thing originates with his desire to ensure that he does well, but it tends to create issues when he doesn't feel he's quite up to standard on what he is doing, which can lead him to over-compensate for perceived deficiencies. Unfortunately, since he tends to hold himself to such strict standards means he tends to expect the best of everyone around him, and that can create a little tension on occasion. That noted, he tries not to be too vocal of his thoughts where possible, preferring instead to keep his reservations to himself.
When not worrying over such things, the pilot does tend to be relatively relaxed in terms of his overall approach to people, even if he does prefer to keep things more formal and courteous, rather than simply lapsing into a familiarity that he otherwise feels uncomfortable with. The only real exception to the rule tends to be with the members of his own squadron, since he doesn't agree that it would be possible to trust other people so regularly with each other's safety and yet continue to remain aloof, so there is often a marked difference in his attitudes to them and to people not included within that group.
As a rule, he can be considered to be somewhat monomaniacal, if not a complete workaholic. Several duty evaluations have remarked on this in a critical nature, suggesting that he's likely to burn himself out if things continue in that manner, and though he's always thought to take these on-board, it's done little to change his actual routine. What is often not noted is that he feels most at ease when working, and tends to lighten the otherwise serious mood with the occasional joke or by engaging in banter with his fellow pilots or his astromech droid.
Jeren does maintain a rather dry sense of humour, and is not completely immune from the ego-generated fighter-jock humour that most pilots tend to indulge in. On several occasions, he's found himself the butt of a practical joke, but also will respond in kind when he feels it will serve to build camaraderie. That said, he feels chain of command is important to working as a unit, so he only matches wits in such a respect with his peers, never with superior officers.
In the cockpit, he tends to be calm and methodical, adopting a manner that seems far removed from his usual attitude, thinking his way through a situation rather than acting on his feelings. His temper is fairly non-existant, and he doesn't like to take things personally, particularly when flying. Every pilot is just there to do their duty, so he never feels any animosity against anyone he's flown and fought against, and often regrets the necessity of having to fire on others, not that he loses sleep over it.
BIOGRAPHY
Childhood
I was born on Alassa Major a fair few years ago now, come to think of it. Getting old, you know. My parents were both resort workers - well, living there, who wasn't? They own a hotel, though it's pretty small and not, as you might imagine, a particularly fun place to grow up around. We actually lived in a set of apartments just down the street, but because they had the business to manage, we usually ended up being raised by one parent or the other. Having both together for longer than a few days was fairly rare, particularly once we started in at school.
Oh, by 'we', I mean myself and my younger sister, Taila. She's only a couple of years younger than me, so I guess my parents weren't as put off from the experience of raising me in the early years to be averse to more kids. Luckily it was just the two of us, though. Too many siblings would have just been a serious pain in the butt - you can see what it did to those kids with 4 or 5 of them, and I never wanted to be in that boat.
My Dad and I didn't really get along - since Taila was around, it was always his view that I had to be the responsible older brother. That was fine some of the time, and my sister didn't exactly make it hard work, but I guess when people have too many expectations put on their shoulders, it starts to grate a little. We spent a fair few years exchanging maybe a few sentences in conversation in passing - how're you doing? Had a good day? That sort of thing. It was pretty cold between us, and I think we both came to regret that later on, but what can you do? Kids are terrible judges of character sometimes. Don't think I was any exception.
Mom died when I was fifteen. I didn't take it as hard as Talia did, but those two had always been pretty close, and she was only thirteen at the time, so she didn't really know how to handle it. Couldn't say I did, either, but I've always been able to put a better face on things than she could. So that made for a rough couple of years after that - getting over it, working out how we were going to manage without her and so on. Of course it meant Dad was the de-facto single parent, and that sure didn't help matters. Could have done without that, for sure.
Education and Career
School was pretty much what you'd expect: learned your basics, everything from Mathematics, which I was surprisingly good at, to Art, which I wasn't. My sister was way more artistic than me, but I never had an eye for it. Can't count the number of times she'd come home and try to draw my attention to a painting or a sculpture she'd seen and my response would be along the lines of "Yup, it's a person. Standing in a field of flowers. How nice." I guess I was always more technically-minded.
As soon as I left school and was of the right age, I signed up for the Coruscani Pilot Institute on Coruscant. Took me a little far from home, which could only be a good thing, but I'd always been told with my head for mathematics, piloting would be a good career choice. You know, we may have droids, but a good pilot still needs to be able to navigate effectively, and hyperspace navigation is no easy thing to work out. If your astromech gets blown out, you have to be able to plot your own courses, you know. Anyway, you can probably blame the GA for that one anyway - they were always sending people along to the career days to try and recruit new people. I elected to go for an independent flight school first, though, because that was more focused. Three years there, then a year at the Galactic Alliance Fleet Academy, also on Coruscant. Convenient.
Naval piloting had zero appeal, as it turned out. I guess you could say I'm an adrenaline junkie, and you'd be partly right, some of the time, but I didn't like the idea of sitting behind a console on a bridge, very much insulated from the actual fighting. And, the way I figured, if you're gonna serve in the military, you've got to be prepared to get your hands dirty. So I focused mostly on small ship piloting: starfighter operations, put simply. Learning to fly everything from those antiquated Y-Wing Bombers to modern R-25's.
The fourth year was really the hardest, because that was Officer Training, not the piloting work I'd done for much of the previous three. We had to learn to represent the military, right down to how to wear the dress uniform, which order insignia and medals went in, oh, and how to eat properly at formal command dinners. Then there's military protocol, the proper way to salute an officer, tactical planning sessions, even history of the GA. Some of it was tiresome beyond belief, but it was a good experience all the same.
So, graduation came and I was commissioned as a Flight Officer and assigned to serve aboard GAS Redoubtable, an Indominable-class Assault Frigate. Sounds fancy, but it really wasn't - those old buckets mostly served escort duty or long-range patrol. There was only squadron aboard, too, so things were a little more relaxed than they probably would have been on a bigger ship - when you've got no friendly competition except in your own ranks, things ease up a lot. Interesting experience, and it's there that you really understand the stakes you're playing for as a pilot. You get taken out plenty of times in simulators when you're training, but in space, you don't get a second chance if you get vaped. That puts you a little on edge.
Served two and a half years about Redoubtable, until Mon Calamari. We'd gotten word that pirates had been using the dead planet to stage attacks into the hyperspace routes towards Munto Codru, not to mention the occasional foray into the Mid Rim and Tion Hegemony. Guess the brass figured an Assault Frigate would get the job done, so there we went. Didn't expect a bunch of gunships to show up and blow the hull plating off. We went out, fought one hell of a battle, lost over a third of our pilots and nearly lost the ship itself, but we managed to jump out before they could take it out. Sorry thing was that the Navy scuttled her shortly after that, because the repairs needed would have been too extensive.
After that, I had a short stay as a member of a patrol squadron overseeing the Bilbringi Shipyards, and then joined the 39th Tactical Wing out of Anaxes. That's where I got introduced to Gizmo, or R9-C2 as he's properly referred to. Traditionally you don't name an astromech until they're permanently assigned to you - I'd had several droids aboard the Redoubtable, since we switched them out between the squadron, so Gizmo was my first personal astromech.
Think we between us, we've flown more than our fair share of combat missions since then - our wing gets called upon for pretty much any trouble this side of the Core, but since our fighters are all hyperdrive-equipped, we can go as far as we're needed. Which, with the Sith Imperium flying around, seemed to be quite often. Even flown with a few Jedi on occasion. I don't much approve of their dress code but, man, can they fly.
Long story short, came in due for a transfer recently, and I hear the infamous Rogue Wing has a few spots available for anyone suicidal enough to seek a slot. Probably a lot of other pilots gunning for it, despite the ridiculously high turn-over in pilots they seem to have compared to every other squadron, but that's because they're the best, and that means they get thrown at the most dangerous missions going. I figure if I'm going to advance my career, that's the best way to go about it, so I put in my transfer request papers this morning.
And, yes, Gizmo's going with me. Can't exactly let myself get blown out of the cockpit if he's not right behind me. Just wouldn't feel right.
ROLE-PLAYS
None yet.
Last edited by a moderator: