Uncle Sam Is Not Asking, He Needs you! (OPEN, Intro)

[Brad Solo]

With the latest of battles with the One Sith it had intensified the need to consolidate the logistical needs within the Protectorate. One such need was man power. For every one soldier you have in combat you need ten in a supporting role. Casualties was a high cost of war and it often took more then just the lives of combat ready soldiers.

The Protectorate had a strong need for men and women. No the galaxy needed them and the Protectorate was calling. Planetary reservist were a likely draw for new troops. A draft could be enabled if The Lord Protector deemed it was a necessary.

The Coreillain Reserves had ample amount of bodies to conscript into service. Dressed in a black set of basic dress uniform and holding a data pad, Brad was directing the flow of troops loading onto transports. The tag over his heart read, Col. Solo ....The pins on his lapel matched the rank of Colonel. The patch on his left shoulder was the winged insignia of Coreilla. On his right shoulder was the patch of the reservist air mobility commandos.

Currently he was just helping to direct the flow. Some where around here he had heard [member="Noah Corek"] was here. A man Brad had not met yet. The Commander was supposed to be here to oversee the acquisition of new troops and their departure to get these men and women to training camps. Yes all the men and women were already trained soldier but most of them had been retired reservists for some time. A little time at a boot camp will get these men and women back into fighting shape.

 

[Noah Corek]

[member="Brad Solo"]
Noah looked over the thousands of soldiers that were currently packing into he Herald-class Assault Crusier that was bound for Fondor. Ever since the last battle with the One Sith at Coruscant and the last battle with the ASA at Naboo, one thing became appearent, the Protectorate was severly undermanned and underarmed. To rectify this the Protectorate High Command had pulled all reservists into active duty, though some of them were wearing old Merr-Sonn Type 52 Armor and armed with OPR-1 blaster rifles and OPP-1 blaster pistols, weapons which had long since been considered obsolete by the Protectorate government and were usually only issued to reservists and planetary militias. Noah sighed, he would have to remember to ask Cater if he could license out the production of the OPR-2 and OPP-2 to other companies to make more weapons for the soldiers. Finally Noah found a man who looked of importance, especially with the rank of Colonel, the same rank as Noah. He extended his hand so the man could shake it. "Colonel Solo, Colonel Noah Corek of the Omega Pyre."