Frea Sheplin
Jetstream
"You can't just do this." A clearly frustrated and very clearly upset voice called out from across the Group Captain's desk. "I've worked hard for that spot, you can't just take it away!"
"I can and I will, Officer Sheplin. Command— I… Am getting tired of your hotshot renegade attitude that keeps putting lives at stake with reckless abandon." The man calmly replied. Frea leaned over his desk and he slowly rose to tower over her in response and to defuse any attempt at something stupid. "When orders are issued there are no arguments to be had, there is only getting in line and staying in line. Something that my predecessor was far too lenient with."
Her nose was positively wrinkled by the time the last word had parted his lips. Frea's own lips pursed and pushed until they threatened to rip her face from her head all by itself. She was pissed off and there was absolutely no denying it, her pride was under attack and the collective efforts she had put into the squadron for the last seven years were burnt to a cinder right before her very own eyes and it hurt.
She grabbed the paperwork on the desk without so much as taking her eyes off of the man before she stormed out of the building with a huff. Frea had half a mind to burn them up sooner than sign it, but a dishonorable discharge wasn't something that someone could just set fire to and think it fixed anything. If anything it just made it all the more worse.
That day had been a pretty steep low. Her father still to this day found it difficult to talk to her, and her sisters weren't much better at it if not worse. They were a military family through and through, so perhaps it was just right that the middle child was the one to do something so stupid as get a double-D in front of the man who had replaced a close family friend after retirement.
As a matter of fact, and while on the topic of 'stupid', it would seem that it was just more and more of that to come. From rigged circuits to a recent rather unwitting participation in a race meant to act as distraction for some sort of heist or theft or something. It reeked of high hell when Frea had been granted a bag with some neat force-doodad that made her queasy to run circumference with, but once it had turned out that she had been used, well…
It wasn't the first bridge burned in recent months. She might have dropped out of the academy, ramped up her habit of risking life for the excitement of near-death to a somewhat more regular basis these days, but that didn't mean that the lessons which had been imprinted upon her since her childhood would just go away. The Group Captain had disintegrated her records, not her pride and principles.
And so, here she was. The entrance to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant seemed far more intense from up close like this. Maybe it was the statues, or maybe it was the fact that she carried a bunch of stolen holocrons that a padawan had been convinced to steal for a chance at some clout in the local circuits. Either way, Frea approached what she assumed to be the front desk of this place. If religious institutions even had those. They probably had altars and stuff, this positively looked like some sort of mixture of both.
"Hello." She began and wasted no time pouring out the contents of her bag in front of the Keshian seated by what in actuality was a coffee table in the big entrance hall. The small assortment of magazines should perhaps have given that much away. "Found some stuff that was yours and figured I would, ah, return it."
"I can and I will, Officer Sheplin. Command— I… Am getting tired of your hotshot renegade attitude that keeps putting lives at stake with reckless abandon." The man calmly replied. Frea leaned over his desk and he slowly rose to tower over her in response and to defuse any attempt at something stupid. "When orders are issued there are no arguments to be had, there is only getting in line and staying in line. Something that my predecessor was far too lenient with."
Her nose was positively wrinkled by the time the last word had parted his lips. Frea's own lips pursed and pushed until they threatened to rip her face from her head all by itself. She was pissed off and there was absolutely no denying it, her pride was under attack and the collective efforts she had put into the squadron for the last seven years were burnt to a cinder right before her very own eyes and it hurt.
She grabbed the paperwork on the desk without so much as taking her eyes off of the man before she stormed out of the building with a huff. Frea had half a mind to burn them up sooner than sign it, but a dishonorable discharge wasn't something that someone could just set fire to and think it fixed anything. If anything it just made it all the more worse.
That day had been a pretty steep low. Her father still to this day found it difficult to talk to her, and her sisters weren't much better at it if not worse. They were a military family through and through, so perhaps it was just right that the middle child was the one to do something so stupid as get a double-D in front of the man who had replaced a close family friend after retirement.
As a matter of fact, and while on the topic of 'stupid', it would seem that it was just more and more of that to come. From rigged circuits to a recent rather unwitting participation in a race meant to act as distraction for some sort of heist or theft or something. It reeked of high hell when Frea had been granted a bag with some neat force-doodad that made her queasy to run circumference with, but once it had turned out that she had been used, well…
It wasn't the first bridge burned in recent months. She might have dropped out of the academy, ramped up her habit of risking life for the excitement of near-death to a somewhat more regular basis these days, but that didn't mean that the lessons which had been imprinted upon her since her childhood would just go away. The Group Captain had disintegrated her records, not her pride and principles.
And so, here she was. The entrance to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant seemed far more intense from up close like this. Maybe it was the statues, or maybe it was the fact that she carried a bunch of stolen holocrons that a padawan had been convinced to steal for a chance at some clout in the local circuits. Either way, Frea approached what she assumed to be the front desk of this place. If religious institutions even had those. They probably had altars and stuff, this positively looked like some sort of mixture of both.
"Hello." She began and wasted no time pouring out the contents of her bag in front of the Keshian seated by what in actuality was a coffee table in the big entrance hall. The small assortment of magazines should perhaps have given that much away. "Found some stuff that was yours and figured I would, ah, return it."
