Une bouchée à manger, c'est tout ce qu'il voulait. Il ne pensait pas que c'était trop demander, mais apparemment c'était. Il était habitué à non-clones murmurant quelque chose sous leur souffle ou l'appelant "copie" ou d'autres choses de ce genre, mais de temps en temps vous avez un connard comme celui-ci qui, peut-être dans une tentative de montrer à ses camarades, ressent le besoin de démontrer son incroyable courage en abusant d'un homme probablement deux fois son âge.
Malgré l'incroyable envie qu'il avait de frapper ce vilain soldat au visage, il a décidé de ne pas s'impliquer dans le conflit. En outre, ayant appris de l'expérience au cours de ses nombreuses années d'entraînement sur Kamino que l'insubordination et la rupture des règles étaient entièrement froncées sur (il a juré que le réajustement comportemental de la droïde laissait une cicatrice ou deux), il a décidé de ne pas s'asseoir à la table du soldat offensif juste pour l'irk et s'asseoir à la table à l'extrémité de la salle qu'il fréquentait.
Pendant les Guerres de Clone, les soldats se sont généralement serrés dans leurs petits groupes dans le mess, les escouades et ceux de rang similaire choisissent généralement de s'asseoir ensemble. Maintenant, au lieu d'une séparation naturelle, il se sentait carrément séparé, avec des clones et des non-humains assis loin de l'homme enrôlé. L'Empire étant la façon dont il était, c'est-à-dire pas le plus aimant et l'acceptation des gouvernements, cette séparation a été presque imposée. Bien que toutes les espèces puissent s'enrôler dans l'armée impériale, la xénophobie parmi ses dominants humains imprégnait tous les aspects de la vie comme une odeur aigre.
Il semblait de plus en plus difficile d'obtenir sur une base quotidienne sans entendre une remarque amère sous le souffle de quelqu'un, être appelé à l'entraînement, ou autrement être diminué d'une manière ou d'une autre. C'était particulièrement vrai dans le hall de mess quand l'alcool desserrait tout le monde des liens proverbiaux et coaxait la langue pour exprimer les choses que l'esprit sobre maintenait souvent.
Velker se souvient quand le mess était rempli de ses frères. Bien sûr, à l'époque ce n'était pas tous les arcs-en-ciel et le soleil non plus. Des mots durs ont été échangés et des combats ont éclaté de temps en temps. De temps en temps, c'était un énorme euphémisme quand l'ARCS était là. Ces gars étaient connus pour avoir un complexe de supériorité et les soldats de rang inférieur n'avaient souvent aucun mal à exprimer leur dégoût à leur comportement, d'autant plus que ce n'était qu'une chance aléatoire qu'ils aient été élevés à l'élite. Malgré tous ces désaccords, à cette époque, il n'a jamais ressenti une si grande fracture entre camarades qui s'est effondrée sous la surface de presque toutes les interactions de nos jours. Bien sûr, il y avait de l'acidité attachant les mots et la colère derrière chaque coup, mais jamais une haine aussi débridée et mordante. Après tout, ils étaient tous frères à l'époque. Ces jours étaient définitivement partis. C'était l'époque d'éviter plus de mégots de cigarettes que de balles. Il n'a jamais pensé qu'il verrait le jour.
Stormtrooper classification:
Stormtrooper. Previously a jet trooper during the Clone Wars but was "demoted" to a basic trooper classification due to his age. He always resents this and swears he can still fight as well as he did in the "good old days."
Designation:
CT-1547
Military Ranking:
Sergeant
Nickname:
During the clone wars, his nickname was "Velker," an aerial predator native to Bespin. His brothers gave him this name due to his love of airborne ordnance and his skill in jetpack flight. Nowadays, however, most just disrespectfully call him "old man." Others call him "clone" or other derogatory terms.
Race/species:
Human Fett-Clone
Planetary Origin:
Kamino
Gender:
Male
Armor appearance:
His standard stormtrooper armor is painted in the same manner as his old Phase 2 trooper armor from his time in the 327th Star Corps: white with dark yellow stripes in the center of the arms, legs, helmet, and chest-plate. A black spade insignia with a stylized green velker is emblazoned on the upper-left of his chest-plate and his right shoulder guard.
Personality:
Velker has seen and dealt with a lot in his time, and therefore has learned to keep an even keel. His years of training (and experience with severe --and often painful-- consequences) keep him from lashing out when he becomes the butt of a joke or the victim of berating. To some, his incredible coolheadedness can be frightening, and he does often use it for intimidating rookies.
Being a clone and having previous combat experience has given the man quite a superior attitude, and he often informs his new "greenhorn" comrades of this fact, but usually in a sarcastic manner. Similarly, Velker has a very dry sense of humor and frequently makes jokes at the expense of his squadmates.
Appearance:
Velker is a standard Fett-clone with no distinguishing facial scars, but now bears the signs of aging. The wrinkles around his eyes and mouth make his face even more rugged and adds a certain sternness to his expression. His hair is greying slightly, but it is not directly noticeable since he keeps his hair shaved in a short warhawk. Many joke that he does this to hide the fact that he is going bald, but the truth of the matter is that he had worn the style since joining the 327th and it reminds him of his "glory days." He also has a tattoo of a winged Galactic Roundel on the back of his neck.
History:
Like all other clones, Velker was born, raised, and trained on Kamino. As a member of the 327th Star Corps, he took part in many significant battles of the Clone Wars, including the battle of Felucia. In fact, he was on the planet during Order 66, though not being part of Commander Bly's "favorites," he was not near General Secura when the actual order came through.
After the fall of the Jedi and the domination of the Empire, Velker and the rest of the remaining clones were quietly shuffled over to the new power and refitted with new armor, weapons, and in some cases classifications. However, it wasn't until the Empire began recruiting and otherwise "acquiring" non-clone soldiers that Velker was demoted to the rank of Stormtrooper instead of an Imperial Jumptrooper. It seemed that the "powers that be" had declared his batch of clones to now be "too old" for such specializations and it was "for his own benefit" that he was reclassified. While this fate was better than that of other clones -- especially those that spoke out -- Velker still resented the change and is always trying in subtle ways to get his old job back. After all, he was one of the best fliers in his squad back in the day and, given his nickname, he always feels that flying is part of who he is. He just tries to ignore that his aim isn't what it used to be and his reflexes aren't quite as quick.
Aside from his rank change, he did not much mind working for the Empire. There were some -- hell, a whole resistance force -- that claimed the Empire to be unfair, cruel, and downright evil. But was the Empire really in the wrong? He did not really know, and frankly, he did not much care. All he knew was fighting. Hell, that was what he had done since the day he was born, and he was now continuing to do what he did best. He had a job and the comforting feeling of cold steel in his hand, and that was all that mattered. What else could he do, after all? He was going to continue on for as long as he could, before they sent him to the fabled "old clone's home" -- or worse. But when it really came down to it, he just wanted to die on the battlefield like his brothers did, and not stick around long enough to sit around at let the reality of his existence sink in.