Gunther

STAR WARS [Group Driven, High Casual/Advanced]

Just as I thought, one of my previous RPs is dying. :D

STAR WARS [Group Driven, High Casual/Advanced]

@DruSM157, I rewrote Mokra Tem's History to include the past three years spent with Del Quin’jorra. This should comfortably tie the two characters together in order to begin this story together. I like your character sheet, bud.

@SunsetWanderer

Letters from the Front

@CaptainBritton@The Spectre I mentioned both your characters in this recent post. I found an account of Operation Cobra and realized that the 4th Armor Division is now facing the 2nd SS Panzer Division (Das Reich). So I switched out the Wehrmacht unit I had been using before this post. These guys are some serious bad ass dudes. Tech5 Bell should be promoted to Corporal soon and possibly Sergeant if things don't get any better. SSG Cox was moved to PSG and then to PL when his Lieutenant got killed. I hope you guys enjoy this! :D

Letters from the Front

1LT Arthur Tyler
A Co. 37th Tank Battalion
APO NY 09012

Jean Tyler
27 Cranberry Dr.
Watertown, NY 13601

8 July 1944

My Dearest Art,
Tell me you are still in England. I am in no hurry for you to rush into this disastrous war. I know this Mr. Hitler person is not a nice guy and the war has to be fought, but why does it have to be you? Please promise me, you will come home. I don’t want to hear about any terrible battle you have been in or any risk you may have taken. Just promise me you will come home to your loving family.

Your son Robert took his first steps last week. It was big. I know some people do things in their own time, but you may remember Jonathan started walking at 11 months. Robert appears to be a bit slower at this. He did say, “dada” yesterday. He obviously misses his father and would like to see you. Jonathan asked about you too.

Your mom is hosting a cooking contest in Albany next weekend. They are using the American Legion hall, bringing in tables and stoves and ovens specifically for the contest. She is really excited about this, loving to be right in the thick of it.

I hate to tell you this, honey, but your dad had a stroke this week. He is fine and back on his feet. He just needs to take things slower. But you know your dad. He can’t slow down. He should probably resign as Ward Representative for the Common Council in Albany. I know he has held a political office in the city for the past 16 years, but he is pushing 60 and maybe he should consider retirement?

I know you like to keep up with the New York Yankees. They are not my team. Go Boston! But since I love you, I will tell you the Yankees are currently in third place in the American League. They beat the St. Louis Browns in St. Louis yesterday. I listened to the game on the radio while the boys played. Nick Etten hit a home run and Johnny Lindell drove in three runs with a triple in the ninth inning to win it. The score was 4-3. It was a real nail biter. It seemed fantastic to pull out the win so late in the game.

I hear Robert crying. I must wrap this letter up for now. I hope you stay safe and come home as soon as you can.

I Love You!

Jean

23 July 1944
The morning brought a rude awakening. Elements of the 2nd SS Panzer Division (Das Reich) hit us hard. It was their Tigers C Company bumped into at Perriers. We are no longer facing a Wehrmacht Infantry Division. These are veterans of the Eastern Front. These German SS soldiers facing us today fought against the Russians at Kursk last year. I recall reading an article on that battle. It was the largest armored engagement of the war. The Germans fielded 3,000 tanks while the Russians had over 5,000. Some of the engagements were at closer than point blank range. This is going to be a tough few days. They are supported by the remnants of the German 6th Falschirmjager Regiment who fought against the paratroopers of the 101st Screaming Eagles on the days following the D-Day landings.

24 July 1944
I was not able to write any more in my journal yesterday. Like I predicted, it was a busy day. The 2nd SS Panzer hit us early yesterday morning. I lost three tanks in the first hour. They brought up a mix of Panther and Mark IV tanks as well as a few SPs. Their numbers were close to equaling ours. The Assault gun platoon claims to have taken out three of their tanks. But the end game was such that we were forced to move back to La Plattiere, just over a kilometer north of our earlier gains.

By 1900 hours last night the company was dug in at La Plattiere with seven Shermans, three Hellcats and five halftracks remaining. We lost five Shermans, two Hellcats and one halftrack. Personnel losses in yesterday’s action was 14 tank crewmen dead, and 19 wounded. We lost five infantrymen dead and six wounded. The German Panther was really challenging. I have a lot of letters to write. I do not look forward to that grim task.

I met with the Battalion Commander this morning. He has issued a new operations order starting tomorrow morning, we are making our drive towards Coutances. This is the beginning of Operation Cobra. Naturally, our 4th Armor Division is going to be at the front of the advance. We will be attacking the 2nd SS Panzer in some of the same places they hit us yesterday. The old man says our replacements will be available later today. I view this news as both good and bad. I would lie if I said we didn’t need the people or the vehicles, but on the other hand, these new guys do not know us and we do not know them. We won’t have any time to rehearse anything with them before we attack into one of Germany’s elite Panzer formations. I do not look forward to tomorrow.

The old man was right on. We received reinforcements after dinner. We received five brand new Sherman tanks, two Hellcats and a halftrack. We got in 35 new tank crewmen including two Sergeants and three Corporals. We also received eleven Infantrymen, all of whom are Privates or PFCs fresh from the States.

I submitted an award recommendation for the Silver Star with Valor for Technician 5th Grade Earl Ball, who was promoted just last week. We probably won’t see the approval on this award recommendation for another month or more. There were three other soldiers both Infantry and Armor submitted for the Silver Star and ten more for the Bronze Star. Let’s see if these guys get the awards I know they deserve. I mention Tech5 Bell because he is now mortar squad leader since Sergeant Tommy Baker and Corporal Norman Lee were both Killed in Action during the fight. Sergeant Baker is being submitted for the Silver Star (posthumously) also. Andy Holling was struck by shrapnel to his left thigh and was medically evacuated to the rear. Depending on the damage to his leg, he may lose it. Somehow Tech5 Bell survived the attack; lucky man.

I had to transfer SSG Cox to a Platoon Sergeant Position. He is now tank commander in the second section in his platoon. I didn’t have a choice anymore with all the losses we took yesterday. I know he will do well. He is a solid NCO. I can get by without an Operations Sergeant for a while. I will ask the Battalion Commander if he has anyone at Battalion I could borrow.

25 July 1944
Both the 90th Infantry Division on our right and the 83rd Infantry Division on our left made forays into the 2nd SS Panzer Division to begin Operation Cobra. One hour after these two divisions engaged the enemy, the 37th Tank Battalion, led by B Company punched a hole in the enemy’s defensive positions.

B Company got bogged down momentarily, but by 1300 hours, our A Company passed through the German position fighting with our B Company. I saw two burning Shermans as we bypassed their fight.

We made it as far as Perriers and engaged a platoon of Tigers and roughly a company of German paratroopers. Our Infantry platoon dismounted, while our tanks provided them with supporting fire. A reserve company from the 53rd Armoured Infantry came up to support our platoon's assault.

Fighting around Perriers lasted until 2200 hours with us holding the town and the Germans withdrawing to the south.

The day’s losses included two Shermans, one of which had been in the company’s compliment for less than one day. I never knew the five soldiers who died in that tank. The other tank was led by 1st Lieutenant Roger Campbell. Roger was a graduate of West Point class of 1942. He was promoted to 1st Lieutenant just last week. SSG Cox will replace Lieutenant Campbell as Platoon Leader. I am confident Staff Sergeant Cox can handle the Platoon at least until we get a new Lieutenant in from the Replacement Detachment. The stack of letters I must write is getting larger.

Soviet Amerika - Red Dawn-Inspired Alternate History

I would suggest a hunting cabin deep in the woods. It may have been something the Guiguere boys used since they were kids; a place they are familiar with. It would be something difficult to get to, but yes, you could drive a 4x4 to get there.

Soviet Amerika - Red Dawn-Inspired Alternate History

I'm ready for a time skip.

Soviet Amerika - Red Dawn-Inspired Alternate History

@Byrd ManI like the MacArthur avatar. I didn't really care for the man, but this is a good image.

Soviet Amerika - Red Dawn-Inspired Alternate History

Ben imagined in his mind he was shooting a deer when he pulled the trigger. He had never killed a human before. The moral dilemma of killing another human hit him shortly after the sounds of gunfire diminished. The adrenaline coursed through his veins. He felt himself breathing heavy; panting. His eyes may have been slightly widened. Then he grew awareness of his expression, his behavior and chose to rein it in. Given his immediate audience it would be wiser to conceal his feelings; put up a poker face. He should deal with the pain later. At least Preston didn’t have to see the carnage this close. He was lucky, even with a scope.

“Shall I dig out the bullet, then?” Ben asked Dan. He holstered his pistol and retrieved his hunting knife. This was a tool he used many times before when field stripping deer. He continued to trick his mind, convincing himself this was a deer and not a human. He could follow the path of the round, given the range and knew roughly where it would come to rest. He quickly estimated it was in the muscle of his chest, on the right-side closer to the armpit. He knew he could find it. He gripped the nine-inch blade and moved toward the corpse. He knelt down in front of the man. He ran his hand over the man's chest and could feel the metallic object. It was jagged and marred; must have struck a bone. The projectile was lower than he expected, but it was there. He dug into the flesh, cutting away at sinews. The projectile was bared and easy to dig out after a few proddings. “We don’t need to give up my brother’s handiwork to the fucking KGB.” Ben retained a cool demeanor not wanting to betray his true feelings. Inside he freaked out; literally screaming inside. The adrenaline was overwhelming. He pocketed the bullet and stepped back behind Dan as he returned the blade to its scabbard after wiping the blood on his trousers.

Several minutes later, Preston walked into the area where Dan, Joe and Gigger stood dealing with the corpses they would leave for the KGB to inspect. Like his brother, Preston remained reticent. The rifle slung over his right shoulder like a hunter fresh out of the woods. His right hand instinctively gripped the sling about chest high. His left hand tucked into a pocket. Upon his head rested a dingy green and yellow baseball cap with the “John Deere” logo imprinted upon the face. His green and black plaid chamois shirt, untucked from a pair of olive drab green cargo pants. The left leg of the trousers was tucked into the top of his tan construction boot while the right pant leg remained down, covering the boot itself.

Preston wanted to ask what they were going to do next, until he saw his brother’s face. Ben gave him that look. The look only a brother would understand. It spoke volumes. He knew they were in over their heads now. It didn’t matter what happened now. They were killers and knew there would be more. He didn’t like it. It was a long path they had meandered along from boyhood until now and they finally stepped over that fine line between killing animals and killing men. He knew there would be more. Oh sadly, there would be many more.

It was true…They were at war.

STAR WARS [Group Driven, High Casual/Advanced]

Not sure if I will be able to write for this RP, but since you are taking two weeks to choose who is in, things might change by the end of the month.

Pilot Hacker

M O K R A T E M

"In the end we only regret the chances we didn't take."

G E N E R A L D A T A

N A M E

Mokra Tem

A G E

30

G E N D E R

Male

S P E C I E S

Kel Dorian

A P P E A R A N C E

Mo, as he is known by his closest associates has a dark peach complexion and black eyes with silver irises. Mokra's nose falls short of becoming a beak with a gaping hole that descends into his mouth, a toothless chasm with drooping fleshy strands. In place of teeth, Mokra has an upper and lower hard palate. Framing his head are extrasensory organs, which terminate in small black tusks next to his chin. As a Kel Dorian, Mokra wears an antiox breath mask and protective goggles. He cannot breathe oxygen, carbon dioxide or nitrogen, which are all fatal to him. He must breathe Helium and a gas unique to Dorin, his home planet. The mask also amplifies his voice when out of Dorin atmosphere. Due to the extrasensory organs in his head, Mokra has heightened reflexes. As a racial trait, Mokra is considered quick and wise, but of a weaker constitution. Mokra can communicate with other Kel Dorians by using his mind in a form of telepathy.

Mo wears molded body armor of a grayish blue hue with gray shoulder spaulders and ornate light gray gauntlets with fingerless black gloves, attached. He wears dark gray canvas britches with high black leather boots. Around his waist, is a black pistol belt and holster for his sidearm. The holster is hung low on his left hip to accommodate his dominant left hand. He has a coarse brown hooded cloak he occasionally wears. It is not always present, left on his hammock or in a closet; packed, but available when needed.

T E C H N I C A L D A T A

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Mokra Tem is a polite, respectful and positive Kel Dorian. He genuinely cares for others and works well in a team atmosphere. He may become enraged when he perceives harm done to others especially those who are closest to him, but he is generally calm, and cool. He works well with positive encouragement and fumbles when he feels he is overly criticized. The probability he will get something wrong increases when he makes mistakes. He is overly critical of his own actions; detrimentally affected more so than when others criticize him. Although, the words of others do have an effect on his behavior, he is actually quite confident. But even the most confident of people have doubts. Encouragement promotes good deeds.

Mo has an adventurous spirit, willing to take risks to overcome an obstacle or secure an objective. He can act impulsively if his confidence is up and he truly believes he is physically capable and mentally prepared to burst into action. His adventurous spirit has gotten him and accomplices into trouble from time to time, but his victories outweigh his failures.

His Kel Dorian warrior spirit, tactically evaluates each scenario he encounters. He is constantly thinking of how he would attack or defend any structure. In the vastness of space, he imagines the potential outcomes of various scenarios based on all available information. He is constantly aware of his surroundings, ready to react if needed.

Mo is motivated by desire, both for his team and for his personal needs. If he is committed to a group, he is all in and prepared to help the group in any way possible. In his mind, if the group succeeds, Mokra Tem succeeds. He is not greedy, requiring excess, just enough to improve or be slightly comfortable.

S K I L L S

Computers: Mokra understands several programming languages and coding. He can hack into servers protected by encryption codes. He has formal training in a school of computers on Dorin.

Martial Arts: Mokra is proficient in the use of the Dorin unarmed combat style as well as the use of bladed weapons in personal combat. His martial training has allowed him to use techniques to compensate for what may be perceived as a diminished strength.

Force Cloak: Mo has an innate ability to use Force Cloak, but does not fully understand how to use it. With training from a Jedi, he might be able to put this ability to good use. For now, it is a nuisance that comes and goes, but is never available when he needs it. This annoying trait may pop on when he is frightened, enraged or emotionally off balance.

Telepathy: This is a racial trait to communicate with other Kel Dorians. He once spoke unintentionally to a human friend telepathically. This ability is another that could be refined with time and training with the help of an experienced Jedi Master.

Pilot: Mokra can fly most medium and smaller space travelling vessels, but prefers smaller more agile craft to large cumbersome vessels.

Blaster use: He has some experience with the use of a blaster. He can hit the broad side of a barn at a hundred paces, but has never fired one in anger nor has one been discharged in his general direction.

Heightened reflexes: As a racial trait, Mokra is considered quick and wise, but of a weaker constitution. He may appear muscular, but is slightly weaker than a comparable human counterpart.

E Q U I P M E N T

Mokra Tem does wear armor, tailor fitted to him and paid for by his family. His father Jun Tem also gave his son a DL-18 Blaster Pistol as well as four replacement power packs. The boy acquired a curved finely folded steel sword with wood/leather scabbard while training in his teen years. The distinctive curved, slender, single-edged blade is 26" in length with a circular or squared guard and long grip to accommodate two hands. A few pouches are fastened along his gun belt to hold the power packs and other trinkets he has picked up along the way. His coarse brown hooded cloak he wears on planets with cold climates.

H I S T O R Y

3983 BBY - Born on Dorin during a time of peace, Mokra's parents welcomed the young Force Sensitive infant into their lives. They knew as a toddler, he was strong with the force and could join the Baran Do Masters at the Kel Dor Enclave shortly after his fifth birthday as a Youngling student. His parents anticipated they would lose their son to the Jedi Order, regardless of the past conflicts. The order was maintained in secret in order to protect them from those who would do them harm.

Mokra Tem never made it to the surviving Baran Do Masters. Soon after he turned five years old, his parents died in an off-world accident. Mokra Tem was by their side to witness their tragic demise. He was taken in by an elderly couple and raised as their son with no intention of ever turning the youngling over to the Jedi Masters of the Kel Dor Enclave. Jun and Ro Tem named their adopted son Mokra, meaning "gift from the heavens" and raised them as a Tem. He slowly lost all memory of his biological parents while adapting to his new living conditions.

The Tems cared for their new son as their own, cherishing their time with him. They taught him how to survive in a dangerous universe. He was instructed in the ways of the martial art form of the Dorin people. He even studied the use of bladed weapons as well as how to use a blaster. He found the blaster amusing, but preferred training and fighting with fists or with a blade than with the crudeness of a blaster.

When Mokra Tem was seven years old he knocked over a vase in his parent's house. It was a cherished artifact of some sentimental value. His mother, Ro Tem heard the vase break and yelled Mokra's name. Out of fear for being caught doing something wrong, Mokra wished himself invisible. The panic of the desperate moment coupled with a desire to be invisible, and his back to a wall, he successfully photo-kinetically bent light and sound waves around him, making himself invisible to his mother. She stood over him looking left and right; everywhere but at him. Mokra did not realize at first, she could not see him. He was simply frightened, saying nothing for several seconds. As Ro Tem gave up looking for him, Mokra revealed himself to her. The boy did not know she could not see him. He relaxed and his cloak disappeared. She then learned he was standing in front of her the whole time. Both parent and child were shocked. They stood, staring at one another for at least a full minute.

"How did you do that, Mokra!?" Ro exclaimed as she dropped to one knee grabbing him by both shoulders.

The boy shook his head in anxious fear. He sobbed and shuddered, "I do not know, mother." He was frightened by both what happened to him and the unknown punishment his mother would certainly dole out.

Ro Tem noted the boy’s frightened state and honesty about not knowing what happened. Forgetting about the broken vase, she pulled Mokra close and gave him a warm loving embrace. She reassured her young son, that his well-being was more important than her husband's vase.

It is a racial trait of the Kel Dorians to communicate telepathically. Often, communication in the Tem household was silent. Mokra grew up accustomed to the silent communication of the Kel Dorian people in his own home. Often when out in public, they would use voice communications. Mokra is quite comfortable and accustomed to telepathy amongst his own kind.

Once when he was 19 years of age, he was with a human friend on the planet, Coruscant. The pair of young men were imbibing alcohol at a local establishment and got into a fight with a pair of seedy Balosars. The local constabulary pursued Mokra and his friend across several city blocks. During a high stress moment, Mokra shouted to his friend telepathically. The human did not realize it was telepathic communication, but responded appropriately to Mokra's instruction. It wasn't until after they lost their pursuers they realized what happened. Mokra has not been able to repeat this ability since that rare moment. He has never forgotten that event.

As a young man, Mokra Tem learned everything there is to know about computers. He studied them daily and became quite proficient in several programming languages as well as how to bypass encryption codes and hack into secure servers. This skill has served him quite well in his adult life. He received formal training in computers as a teenager in school on the planet, Dorin.

After Mokra became an adult, he pursued a career as a pilot. He traveled to Coruscant to learn to fly. He trained on several different craft. He was eventually certified in most light and medium sized freighters as well as lighter single-seat aircraft. Although, he prefers to work with the smaller more agile vessel, he plies his skills as a pilot aboard freighters as a means to earn a living.

For the past decade, Mokra Tem has been travelling the known universe working for ship captains serving either as pilot, navigator or deck hand aboard various ships. Three years ago, he made friends with a man named Del Quin’jorra, who captained a small freighter named Quillwing. The two found themselves on the shit end of the Hutt Cartel more often than Mo would like to admit. They smuggled spice, weapons and even people across the known universe. At first everything seemed fine, but the more they worked for Frizo the Hutt, the more things seemed to be slipping out of their control. It seemed as the Hutts, well at tleast Frizo was attempting to set up Del and Mo to be their property. Frizo would often refer to the Quillwing as his ship, implying he owned it and its crew. When Mo and Del lost a shipment of slaves heading to a spice mine, Frizo got upset, eventually banishing the pair to the inner rim. Work was slim and the they found it difficult to make ends meet.

Finally, a call came in for them to run some weapons out of Nar Shaddaa. Mo and Del both agreed this was exactly what they needed to get their operation back up and running. They were more than eager to head to one of the largest crime capitals of the Galaxy, Nar Shaddaa. Once they arrived, their worst fears were imagined. Frizo the Hutt took ownership of their ship, leaving the pair stranded on the Smuggler’s Moon.

When Mokra believed all was lost. He was stuck on this hell hole with his friend, Del and no way to leave. He was desperate and felt compelled to take whatever deal, the Zabrak, Mol was planning to offer them.

Soviet Amerika - Red Dawn-Inspired Alternate History

I should be able to post sometime tomorrow. /crossesfingers