

Krenis opened up the old case that he had stashed away for a long time. The contents within sat there, gleaming white save for the red paint. He hadn't needed it for a long time. But things had begun to change. The Republic had been dead for a long time. But it had returned, in a way, that he had not expected. It had been reborn from Corellia and a few other worlds in the Core and Midrim. None that were particularly powerful or wealthy in any of the Republics he had seen, but that was perhaps for the best.
Slowly, he clasped the pieces of his armor over his bodysuit, finishing with the shoulder-pads and kama. His helmet remained under his elbow as he turned and strode from the room. This Republic stood in a precarious position, balanced between galactic superpowers, several of which would be determined to see them crushed as soon as they learned of this new existence. The peace of ancient times would be impossible, at least for a long time, until peace was returned. That meant they had a string of wars they needed to be prepared to fight. That meant an army. A fleet. Soldiers capable of fighting against larger and more powerful armies.
In an ideal world, he would have an army of his brother clones, designed from the genetic level for toughness, resilience, aggression, loyalty, and skill. But he didn't have that anymore. They were all dead, for the most part. Only a few remained, but with what he had in mind, that might have been enough. There was another ARC team. He had put the word out and invited them to this meeting, them and what other experienced soldiers willing to serve the Republic that they could find.
He had invited them all here for the re-establishment of the Grand Army of the Republic. Of course, it would be up to the Senators and Representatives to officially bring this into being, fund it, and all that. But it would be up those he asked to make it happen. And Krenis had no intention of wasting time waiting while the politicians bickered about. He had learned that lesson the hard way, more times than one.
One last breath and he put the helmet on his head. Now, looking in the mirror, he saw himself as he had been once. Alpha-93. ARC trooper of the Galactic Republic. Without realizing, he stood a little straighter and squared his shoulders a little more. For many, their search for a purpose in life was a life long pursuit that they failed to find. He and his brothers were lucky. They knew their purpose. It had been created and implanted into their very genetic code. And, by the all fickle winds of fate, his had been returned to him.
He just needed to make sure it stayed that way. Krenis stood to attention, nodded, and strode from the room. They were meeting at a training field next to a major munitions factory. No fancy board rooms for them. Or conferences. They were sentients of action and he intended to give them that opportunity.
This is for all military and navy minded folks of the Republic to gather and start putting things into action. It will follow the structure of the canon GAR as described in Wookiepedia, albeit smaller to start with. Won't be having any massive legions or full system armies yet.