Faction [GADF] Playing With The Boys

[Spirit of Tenacity]

Fort Bastion, Corellia​

With the recent defeats at the hands of the Sith Order, GADF command has realized a general lack of morale amongst the troops. While the war is still ongoing, men need motivation. As such, High Command has organized a set of inter-branch competitions to allow troops to regain their composure, keep busy, and learn new skills.

Objective One:
Fight to Survive​

A tournament of martial skill has been organized, with the rules being simple: No armor, no weapons, no one dies. Medics are on standby for the competition, with members from every branch permitted to enter. While personal pride is on the line, members of high command of each branch have the pride of their own command on the line as well.

Objective Two:
Mighty Wings​

While the Starfighter Corps have always been known as the premiere pilots of the Alliance, High Command has decided to put that to a test. A race, from Coronet City back to Fort Bastion, the long way around the planet, has been organized. Pick whatever starship you want, just make it back before someone else does.

Objective Three
Rest and Relaxation​

The time away has been one the troops relish. While the competition between branches has been recommended for all enlisted, it was not made mandatory. Maybe you just wanna chill and play in the barracks. Or do something else.

 

[Vulpesen]

OBJ: 3 Rest & Relaxation


Martial competitions were a fact of life on Veradune. Duels were common and held for any number of reasons, from a bad joke to a family feud. There were rules of course to such affairs, primarily that such fights were never to be taken to the death. But still, Vulpesen had seen more than his fair share of tournaments and competitions over the decades that he had spent ruling over his ancestral planet. That being said, placing the decades old Zorren with the power to call lightning on the heads of people who annoyed him into a martial tournament didn't really go well with the enlisted who had seen him fry entire squads of sith.

So it was that Vulpesen was sitting on the side lines, flask in hand as he leaned back in his seat. There was a time an place for everything, and now, dressed in the full uniform of a GADF Colonel, Vulpesen had finally found a moment where he wasn't involved with any local or galactic politics, or any force shenanigans. For once, he was simply a GADF officer overseeing the recreation of his men as they did their best to impress.

 

[Gym Halpern]

LOCATION: Corellia
TAG: Vulpesen | Gress D’ran

Objective Three
Rest and Relaxation​

​

Gym really had no desire to be here, but it was at the request of much of his crew, and the ground troops assigned to The Indominable. Make no mistake, he ordered the day passes for this for their benefit and wanted them to be here. However the Captain just thought of his friends. Friends who were halfway across the galaxy, or dead. It was not depressing, but it was definitely something that affected his mood.

Several of the ground troops were trying to get him involved in a drinking game, and while it was not his “cup of tea” (no play on words intended), but he was in for two rounds. Luckily two rounds was his limit as he promised he would come back. So he walked around, returned a few salutes and realized that he was glad he came.

 

[Velyra Vonn]

Senator Velyra Vonn of Zeltros​

The Senator of Zeltros arrived precisely two minutes after the first bout began—just late enough to make an entrance, just early enough to claim the best seat without apology.

She glided into the spectator stands with a trio of fashionable shadows at her flank—laughter on their lips, all velvet and glass. None were officially listed as aides, but each carried the kind of poise that implied they'd seen both battlefields and ballrooms. Or at the very least, knew which heels to wear to each.

Velyra herself wore dusk-colored silk with a back like scandal and a neckline like an invitation. One gloved hand lifted a crystalline flute of pink nova fizz, the other adjusted her glasses as she cast her gaze across the ring below.

A low whistle escaped her.

"Tell me darling,..." she murmured to no one in particular, "...is there a protocol for cheering before the match when someone's shirt comes off?"

The question earned her a scandalized snort from one companion and a poorly concealed grin from another.

She reclined with the elegance of someone entirely unbothered by the idea of impropriety—legs crossed, lips painted, attention rapt.

"Mm. See him?" she gestured with her glass toward one of the contestants mid-grapple. "Excellent center of gravity. Controlled aggression. Bodyguard potential, that one."

There was no urgency in her words. She watched like a woman at the opera—measuring tone, rhythm, and the swell before the aria.

This was, after all, what diplomacy truly meant: knowing when to speak... and knowing when to let the boys with the big guns steal the show.

@Open (Shamelessly observing Objective 1)​

 

[Ashley Nevermore]

Objective I:
Fight to Survive
Tag: Aiden Rennek
Watching Vulpesen Gym Halpern Velyra Vonn​

The last two rounds, Ashley had gone undefeated. A starfighter pilot who thought he was hot chit, and another soldier from the 34th. Every unit in the GADF had at least one person vying for the top spot.

Including her next opponent.

"Guess it was only a matter of time before we were standing across from each other..."

Ashley was dressed only in a pair of cargo pants, and a tank top, showing off plenty of her old scars, taking a casual fighting stance. "Show me how the Marines do it over there, Big Dog."

 

[Gress D'ran]

Objective III:
Watch the Fireworks
Tag: Vulpesen Gym Halpern​

The smell of cigar smoke filled the air behind the two, as the Daveronian walked in behind them. Shorter, but staunch in his posture.

"So this is what we do for fun these days? Back when I was a private, we would throw each other into the ocean to teach each other how to swim." Gress laughed, looking to the two. "You were the one back on Coruscant to blitzed the Imperial line, yeah? I think I remember your men under my walkers."

 

[Ari Naldax]

Objective II: Assert Dominance on all other Pilots
Equipment: "Celchu" Pattern Wolf-X, E9-K4 "Keeper"

Final Preparations​

Ari could hear the shudder of the Repulsorlift as her X-wing lit up - all of her systems coming to life as keeper purred off his approving beeps and words streamed across her stream: Life Support - Go. Propulsion - Go. All systems were green. "No weps for this run Keeper, and shunt all but our nav shields to propulsion and maneuvering. We're gonna milk every bit of speed the old girl has in her." A smirk curled onto the Flight Captain's face as fastened her helmet flipped the visor down. She was going to win this. She had to.

Once again, her planet was at the center of a Tingel Arm Empire, ruled with an iron fist. But right, there wasn't much she could do about that. Certainly not alone. So she had to do what she did best - fly. Fly faster, better, with all the more determination than every other pilot in this race - so that at the end of the day, the X-wing making its rounds would be Revenant 5 - with the beautiful New Alderaanian paint job she'd given it.

Making her final checks, and lining her fighter up with all the others preparing for the race, Ari keyed her comms with keeper for one last pre-race message.

"We're going to win this for them."