Max Farraday
Rangers lead the way
Max Farraday
"Rangers lead the way!"
NAME: Max Farraday
FACTION: Outer Rim Coalition
RANK: Formerly a Sergeant
SPECIES: Human
AGE: 32
SEX: Male
HEIGHT: 1m92
WEIGHT: 83kg
EYES: Green
HAIR: Blonde
SKIN: Pale
FORCE SENSITIVE: No
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Personality
Years spent away from the rigid command of the Galactic Empire has made Farraday into a man much more vocal than before, which is quite saying something, considering that he was known among his men for being the kind of man to lead his troops by bellowing at his foes while charging at them. A life spent barking orders and alerting his men for RPG and sniper fire hasn't improved his voice, and years spent killing and watching his men die has made him quite gritty. Emptying several packs of cigarettes per day, he is considered strangely by allied armed forces, refusing to use blasters at all: he favors automatic weaponry and sniper rifles, along with practical vests that offer little protection. Considered either bold or insane by his brothers in arms, Farraday isn't afraid of expressing his thoughts, no matter how unpopular or insensible they might be - which makes him very easy to antagonize.
Still, he possess a softer side, especially around children and women. This is a direct result from his failure to save half of the slaves from their captors, which created a deep feeling of guilt within him. If anything, he considers that anyone that is able to help but chose to do nothing is a coward and undeserving of any type of help. A deep affectionate void keeps eating away at him, his only solace being his cats.
Backstory
Max Farraday was a Sergeant in the Galactic Empire's stormtroopers when his transport ship was shot down and he was left for dead among the wreckage. Selling his gear and establishing on a quiet backwater world under the control of the Outer Rim Coalition, he considered his predicament early retirement - until a raid by slavers claimed a consequent amount of civilians. Using his savings to grab some gear, he went after them and neutralized them, although he failed to do so before half of the cargo was sold off. Mortified, he returned home and nearly drank himself to death at a local bar. Directed to the ORC's Rangers by one of the patrons, the disgruntled ex-soldier found something that could suit him.
Through his years of service, he came to resent the lack of professionalism of the Rangers, finding himself itching for some action. His efforts to make the rest of the rangers into a uniform fighting force did not go unnoticed, and so he was contacted by the ORC to participate in the official founding of the Rangers, which could perhaps make them more effective.