[center][h2][b][color=f7941d]Kalen Cadera[/color][/b][/h2][/center]

Kalen Cadera had spent the shuttle ride sitting reclined in an aisle seat, her booted feet up on the headrest in front of her. Her helmet was sitting on the seat next to her and she seemed content to spend the whole flight tinkering with her blasters. She was very proud of her weapons and tended to spend quite a bit of time doting on them. Perhaps it was a Mandalorian thing. It might have also been because she had built the blasters from scratch, taking parts from multiple different models to ensure that these compact, modifiable, and powerful plasma slingers were the perfect instruments for Imp Hunting. The blasters had a stun setting of course, though she rarely found reason to use it.

As the Shuttle broke atmo, Kalen holstered her blasters and took a good look around at the people she was sharing the shuttle ride with. Trandoshan, Wookie, Humans, just about all of them looked like fighters. It wasn't that they were all militarily trained, but they all had a fighter's fire in their eyes. She recognised it in them because she recognised it in herself. The Empire had taken from these people, just like it had taken from her. No! She didn't allow herself to continue down that train of thought, there was nothing for her at the end of that path but pain. Kalen picked up her helmet and slipped it on, masking her expression. Still, she thought, if this was the sort that the Rebellion had attracted, she could understand why they had been so successful in the Battle of Yavin.

The Mandalorian pulled herself to her feet as the Shuttle landed and disembarked along with the rest of the other recruits. They all formed into a loose semi-circle around the man who was clearly in charge here and, while some simply stood around, she stood at ease, armored feet planted apart, back straight and hands clasped behind her back. She took the opportunity to study the Captain before her and couldn't help but narrow her eyes behind her helmet's visor as he spoke. His voice had the distinct and rigid formality of an Imperial, which didn't leave her predisposed to like the man. Of course, as he was her new commanding officer, she knew that it didn't matter if she liked him or not. The benefits of a militaristic childhood. The Moment that the Weequay Sergeant began screaming orders, seventeen years of training and instinct kicked in and Kalen snapped to attention, obeying the shouted orders without a moment's thought or hesitation.