Screen Name: Alfhedil

Character you wish to play: Grand Moff Zsinj

Race: Human

Faction: True Sith Order

Background (Because Zsinj is a canon-character, much of his background will be found on the wikia, however the years after the fall of the Empire will be changed slightly to fall in line with the setting of the RP):

After the fall of the Empire, Zsinj set out to do what other Moffs were already doing, and began to consolidate power in his region of space. Essentially declaring himself a warlord in his own right, Zsinj and his fleet harried Rebel shipping throughout the north-eastern Outer Rim and set up multiple outposts among the backwater worlds through deals with local populations. With allied planets secured for resupply, and his reputation beginning to grow among the other Moffs, Zsinj was looking to be well on track to swaying the other Remnants into a coalition to reform the Empire. Then, everything simply went silent. Zsinj's fleets pulled back to dark space in the Borderlands Regions, their presence on the allied planets fleeting at best, and the few times they did run into other fleets, the Zsinj Remnants made their best to avoid them. Rumors among the allied planets started to spread that Zsinj had been killed and that the other admirals were contending for power, or even that Zsinj had somehow made contact with a remnant of the true imperial remnant and was working to rebuild the Empire.

The truth of the matter is that while patrolling the old Sith Throne-worlds, Zsinj had encountered a lone vessel traveling from world to world, and which refused to acknowledge his authority. After a short battle, Zsinj's star-dreadnaught "Iron Fist" crippled the vessel, and a party boarded the ship to capture the crew. When the boarding party failed to return, he began to suspect that foul play had been involved, and so he ordered another team to be drawn up and lead it himself. With each corridor of the ship, he felt colder and colder, as if the ship was open to the vacuum, and more relics began to be sighted. Ancient blades of various shape and origin decorated the walls of many rooms, with cases of holocrons and other assorted storage devices. It was only when he breached the main hold of the ship that he found the reason why the occupants had refused his authority. Before him he found his previous boarding party, each of them bearing the tell-tale wounds of a lightsaber, and above them were three figures. Two of them were unobscured, a pair of women who would later be identified as Requiem and Solace, the Miralukan twins who serve their master as the prime apprentices. In the center of the room however, there sat the source of the strange cold that permeated the entire ship, and all at once he felt a crushing depression sink over him, as if nothing he ever did had truly mattered. It was then that Zsinj knew he had encountered another of the Sith, and he knew that to deny this Sith would only result in his death. Struggling to take to one knee, he swore fealty to the Sith Lord that would become both a blessing to his fleet, and the bane of his existence, a Sith known only as the Cold Void.

Since swearing fealty to the Sith, the Old Sith Order has worked to reorganize Zsinj's assets and consolidate resources into a more maintainable nation. Fleets that had been scouting potential annexation and conquests were pulled back to secure the Borderlands Regions, as well as to assist in creating shipwrights and dockyards within the inner systems. Shipping lanes were established in the course of a month, serving as the backbone of the Borderlands Regions and creating an infrastructure that could actually be maintained and serve to grow the region into an actual power. Most infuriating of all, however, was the Sith Lord's demands to make peace with the Rebellion, and to allow not only them, but other Imperial Remnants safe haven while within the borders of what was now being called The Reach.

Character Class (choose one): Soldier (Grand Moff/Fleet Admiral)

Items: Moff dress uniform, Moff duty uniform, standard issue Stormtrooper armor with commander helmet, E-11 Blaster Rifle, medallion denoting fealty to the Cold Void.

While not under his personal and direct command, his position as Grand Admiral and Warlord of The Reach entitles him to use any of the vessels that were once part of the Quelii Oversector's armada. Foremost of these vessels is the star-dreadnaught "The Black Citadel" a vessel that was once named "Iron Fist"

Character Personality (Created Characters Must Be Thorough! Give a solid description on how your character acts, their morals, etc):

For the most part Zsinj is relatively indifferent to most things that go by, though he is by no means a lax commander. When provoked he can be a ruthless foe, one that cares nothing for prior agreements or relations, but only for the utter destruction of his enemy. He can be rather arrogant, and often times annoyingly stubborn, but he knows his place in the order of things, and when all else fails he can only respond with indifference.

Character Alignment (Choose one): Walking the Line

[hider=Appearance]
[center]Behold, the character voted most likely to cry themselves to sleep at night:
[img=http://img3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20090820060926/starwars/images/5/53/TheMostImportantManInTheWholeDamnAtlas.jpg][/center][/hider]

[hider=Sample Post]

His pace was brisk, the heavy boots of his imperial uniform clicking against the polished floors in a staccato that almost betrayed his fury and indignation. Once more had that blasted Sith demanded of him something which was simply unfeasible, and if the Emperor was still in power would have been an executable offense. Zsinj slowed his walk as he consciously recognized that to enter discussions with one such as these Sith in a mood as he was in, would be little more than folly. He took a moment to take a bac stick out of his breast pocket, lighting it with a flick of the small lighter he also kept there. Of all things, he had even turned to smoking and alcohol to ease his suffering under these despots. While the Emperor was unflinching in his demands, at least he wasn't insane. Suddenly, he thought of the Miralukan woman who served as prime apprentice, that bitch Requiem. She was beautiful in her way, and perhaps even more so because he knew that there was no way that he would ever have his hands on her. The one thing that really ruined the illusion was that she was cold, and damn cold at that, utterly ruthless beyond even some of them Royal Guard. Long ago he had decided that it was always best to deal with her twin, Solace, when at all possible. Unfortunately, their master made this very difficult to work around in even the best of times, and this was by no means anywhere near the best of times.

The smell of singed hair caught his attention and he panicked as he realized he had lost track of the moment and the bac stick had burned all the way down to his lips and smoldered in his moustache. A quick pat and the embers were put out, but too late as he found himself staring into the blindfolded face of Solace, a frown creasing her features as a result of his own stupidity. She had apparently been waiting for either him, or another, for she was stood directly in the center of the only corridor leading to Requiem's quarters. Despite the blindfold he knew she could see everything around her and be aware of his own eye movements, a fact that he cursed everytime he interacted with her sister. Both of them were virtually the same, though Solace was more mercurial and disturbingly cheerful, with shapely athletic figures and alabaster skin to match their natural auburn hair color. He bowed slightly, affording her a portion of respect more than he would her sister and eyed the door beyond warily, the slight smell of charred flesh and spilled blood drifting from the entryway.

"Sister is busy." Solace spoke with a terse tone, at odds with her normally quiet and reserved tone. It was well and truly clear that something was upsetting her, but Zsinj dared not interject into her, or Requiem's private affairs.

Clearing his throat, he tried to put on his best authoritative tone possible "Apologies madam, but I must speak with her regarding this latest issuance." Her apathetic look told him that he had failed to impress, but he carried on anyways. "This simply cannot stand, for she-"

"No. Not she, but our master, demands that you do this." Solace interjected with a mildly bemused tone.

He sighed, knowing it was quite useless to argue that particular point, and continued "Either way, they are an enemy, even more so than the Rebellion. I simply cannot be expected to enter into diplomatic negotiations with the likes of Ysanne." 

Light footsteps from behind Solace alerted him to the presence of her sister, and when she moved aside for Requiem to face him directly he could not hide his shock at her appearance. Her normally pale skin was even paler, and it was clear that she had been in severe agony from the cold sweat which beaded along her arms and face. She scowled at him with more than the usual disdain, but it was clearly strained and took much effort to do so, "You..." she started, the words coming out as a hiss and devoid of the usual venom, "Will do as ordered. No exceptions. Lick her boots if that's what it takes to earn her neutrality, but do not come back here without a non-aggression pact between their remnant and The Reach." She then looked to her sister, "You will go with him, dear sister, make sure he does not screw this one up too." With that said she shuffled past the two of them, no longer caring as much to put on the facade of superiority and heading straight for the hangar.

Zsinj scowled at her as she left, but knew there was really nothing to be done, he needed the Sith for what they could do just as much as they needed him and his people.[/hider]