Mark Hawkins
Character
NAME: Mark "Operator" Hawkins (DT0911)
FACTION: The Galactic Empire
RANK: Death Trooper
SPECIES: Human
AGE: 21
SEX: Male
HEIGHT: 6'2"
WEIGHT: 215 lbs
EYES: Blue-Green
HAIR: Brown, with a jelled up hair cut, and a well trimmed beard.
SKIN: Caucasian
FORCE SENSITIVE: No
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STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES:
Strengths -
- Proficent with multiple different weapon platforms, even though preferring rifles, and secondary blaster pistols
- Practical intelligence, especially combat awareness, and the ability to adapt
- Well versed in hand hand combat, and proficient with melee weaponry of multiple types, more preference to swords
- "No man left behind" even with great danger to himself, he refuses to leave his comrades behind.
- Despite his proficiency with combat, Mark is less knowledgeable in the sense of book smarts
Mark is rather built in muscle, but not so built as to hinder his endurance, and speed abilities. He's an overall well built man, with well kept hygiene underneath his armor, sporting a few tattoo's on his arms, and one on his back of the Imperial symbol. He has a scar on the left side of his upper torso from a blaster wound, with other scars on varying parts of his arms, and lower torso.
BIOGRAPHY:
A lonely orphan, Mark, never knew his parents, having been born, and immediately given up for adoption to the small orphanage of Golm, Mark found himself never getting adopted, though that was on purpose. He didn't want parents for some odd reason, growing up with his friends as his "family" and focusing more on his enjoyments in life, all the while feeling a yearning for something more, but never quite able to place it. As he grew older, Mark was a surprisingly a resilient child for the curves life would occasionally send his way. It astonished his friends how hard it was to get the best of him, but inspired all the more confidence in him. Mark was very close with his other orphan friends. They spent lots of their time hunting from time to time, entering shooting contests, and especially going to blaster ranges. By the time Mark was 13, he'd built his first slug thrower, and by the time he was 17, his first blaster rifle. As him and his friends got older, they found that life was fun, but their time in the orphanage would end soon. Fearing parting ways, Mark, and his 2 friends decided to join the Imperial Military, mark feeling a call to to the something more he'd felt most of his life.
After successfully joining, and making it past their training, the friends performed outstandingly in the eyes of their Platoon Sergeant, and had been summoned to his office, so they arrived 10 minutes prior, as was always military etiquette.
"Alright Soldiers. I've pulled the 3 of you aside because of something I've been specially gifted from the commander of this training installation. Following your outstanding performance in the Delta Challenge, I've received 3 spots to be gifted to those I see fit, but only for those who want them." Mark stood at parade rest, and spoke with respectful sincerity.
"Sergeant, if I may ask, what're the spots for?" The Platoon Sergeant smiled.
"I'm glad you asked Private Hawkins." he tapped a button on his desk displaying a symbol.
"They're starting spots in the 501st Legion of course." he said with a smirk, the three boys looking at the symbol in awe.
"So you 3 want it?" Mark looked to his friends, each of them nodding, before looking back to their NCO.
"Good. Then pack your things, and don't worry about cleaning your rooms. Your shuttle leaves in an hour. Fallout." As soon as the Sergeant gave the command, they bolted out of the office faster than than their feet could carry them, tripping over one another in excitement, to grab their things, and leave for their first unit.
Upon arrival, the 3 were given a brief, and sent to their section. From there, was history. The 3 showed incredible ingenuity, and valor in operation they were apart of. They had survived a good handful of missions, and a campaign to take a planet, but it wouldn't last as they would find their next mission, wouldn't go as smoothly as all others. They had seen some osik many times before, but this would change things.
It was a simple mission. Take control of the outpost, and establish a secure perimeter. As the two squads shuttles made ground, they moved in with more speed than they were used to, expecting heavy resistance due to the stations importance to communications in the sector. 1st Squad took lead, while Mark, leading 2nd Squad, his friend john on the machine gun, taking right side, Nathaniel taking left with their other man, holding the Grenade launcher position, with his underbarrel micro-grenade launcher.
As 1st squad prepared to breach, Mark's squad pulled security at the front barriers, waiting for 1st Squad to do their job of breaching, clearing, and securing the tower. After breaching, and making their way inside, still no gunfire, the squad took in the surroundings, an ominous feeling taking hold.
"Hey Hawkins."
"What is it?"
"It's not just me right? Something-"
"Doesn't feel right? Yeah, me to-" an explosion rang out at the top of the tower, as the glass rained down on them, and gunfire surrounded them.
"AMBUSH!!" the squad laid down cover fire. They did their best to locate the enemy, but they couldn't find where the enemy was firing from. First one to fall was the rear rifleman. And things only got worse.
"WHERE THE FEKK ARE THEY SHOOTING FROM!?"
"MORE CONTACT RIGHT!!"
"WATCH YOUR FIRE, AND DON'T CROSS YOUR FIRE SECTORS!" Mark tapped his comms.
"ADMIRAL! WE'RE TAKING HEAVY FIRE, IT WAS A TRAP! 1ST SQUAD IS DOWN! REQUESTING IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE!" an explosion rang out as Nathaniel had unloaded a grenade from his underbarrel launcher.
"WOO! GOT-" just as Nathan was about to celebrate, he'd been sniped in the throat.
"NATHAN!!" Mark ran behind the barrier, and making the final rush across the open to Nathan, a stray shot hitting him in the pit of his shoulder, making Mark fall onto Nathan in pain.
"MAR-" John had abandoned rationality, and gotten up to run to his friend, but was immediately gunned down as soon as he even tried.
The enemy forces had begun to close in, the fire ceasing as they thought they'd successfully eliminated the opposition. They slowly closed in on Mark's position, gripping his shoulder as he huddled against his friends dead body, the warmth of his flesh leaving him, as Mark held his eyes shut, waiting for the end to come, the footsteps getting closer with every second. Just when all was lost, he heard the sound of panicked gunfire, followed by much larger gunfire from something else. Grabbing his friends rifle, as it was closest, he peaked over the barrier slowly, to see what was happening, and found an imperial dropship laying down fire.
After roughly 30 minutes of blaster fire, it was silent again, and footsteps followed once more, this time starting from further away. Holding the rifle once more, he readied it at the edge of the barrier, for when the enemy came around the corner, his finger on the trigger, someone came around the barrier. Just as Mark began to squeeze, he realized it was a fellow trooper, and when the trooper saw him, lowered his rifle.
In the aftermath of the battle, Mark, being the only survivor, was debriefed, and sent to hospital. After a 2 week recovery, and alot of thinking, he was discharged from the hospital, then sent back to service. Mark immediately being summoned to his commanding officers office. He'd been selected for a rare school. Death trooper School.
Those who knew him from the 501st, say he was changed from that day, but he was still the fun guy they'd gotten to know.
KILLS: N/A
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ROLE-PLAYS:
