| Where... where did it go?
The content of this article is split up among several sub pages as it grew too large.
To alter the content you may have to edit one of the pages below.
Complete Article: Troutrooper
Transcluded Pages: Page One - Page Two
|
Character History
Childhood
Troutrooper was born on Dac fifteen years before the Battle of Yavin. Born Daldarr, he is the third son and youngest offspring of Altmor and Penel Tuzassi; his brothers and sister were adults living off-planet when Daldarr was born, so he was raised like an only child. Prior to the planet's invasion and occupation by the Empire, his mother, Penel, was a science and engineering professor, and his father, Altmor, was an aide and advisor to several members of the Calamarian Council. His mother was a second cousin of the Jedi Knight Bant Eerin.
The young Mon Cal grew up during a period of great turmoil on Dac. The Empire occupied the planet and was in the process of enslaving the Mon Cal race. His family was part of the resistance: his mother designed and built home-made guerrilla warfare devices, and his father helped with strategy and planning at the resistance headquarters. Daldarr, though young, helped however he could. Too young and inexperienced for combat, he was trained in surveillance and sabotage. A youngster could sneak into places undetected that an adult could not. The fry was quite successful, completing several impressive missions, until he got cocky and let his guard down. He was arrested after breaking into a communications relay station, and sent to the VSD Smasher for sentencing and enslavement.
Daldarr witnessed first-hand what happened to those who resisted the Empire. Looking out from the rear window of the penal transport, he fumed as the Empire razed his home city. A guard looked at the destruction and chuckled. Daldarr screamed in pure fury at the guard, surprising the Imperial and knocking him off-balance. The guard's reprisal was swift and long-lasting, the blows ending only when he believed Daldarr dead. The nearly-dead fish was taken to the medic to be healed before a life of slavery.
Pre-Emperor's Hammer Imperial Service
While he recovered, an officer heard of the Mon Cal's surprisingly strong voice and took an interest in the fish. Lieutenant Loy, a seventh-generation officer from Fresia, was a firm believer in merit and respected those who took the initiative. Though from a Core World, Loy grew up with and befriended non-human slaves. His appointment to the Smasher was quite disappointing as he disliked slavery and torture. When he heard what Daldarr did—both to the communications relay and on the transport—the lieutenant knew he had found a new aide.
Daldarr required a week in bacta before the med droid cleared him. Loy was waiting with shackles in one hand and a stack of datapads in the other. “Your choice. Either way, it's a heavy workload.” He chose the datapads. Though still a slave, Loy inculcated Daldarr in the Empire: Imperial customs and law, leadership, military culture, strategies and tactics. During his apprenticeship, Daldarr acquainted himself with Imperial databases, the vast repositories of knowledge and data compiled by the billions of Imperial soldiers spread across the galaxy. He immersed himself in information. He visited planets and systems he only read about, seeing first-hand how the Empire helped its citizens. He and Loy discussed philosophy, history, morality, with Loy taking the Imperial side and Daldarr taking the opposition. He met many Imperial officers, mostly as Loy's slave, but some of Loy's closest colleagues knew of the contract and accepted Daldarrr. Even Loy's superior, Captain Oirt L'hommu, took part in Daldarr's training. However, all of this occurred behind closed doors; in public, Daldarrr was just another slave to abuse. Loy was a strict, harsh master in public, routinely beating Daldarrr for his imperfections. The lieutenant did his utmost to limit the abuse to what he doled out, politely and firming informing other officers that only he could abuse his slave. But Daldarr still received plenty of beatings. He never forgot his attackers' names.
Daldarr learned much from Loy: Imperial customs and law, leadership, military culture, strategies and tactics. During his apprenticeship, Daldarr acquainted himself with Imperial databases, the vast repositories of knowledge and data compiled by the billions of Imperial soldiers spread across the galaxy. He immersed himself in information. He visited planets and systems he only read about, seeing first-hand how the Empire helped its citizens. He and Loy discussed philosophy, history, morality, with Loy taking the Imperial side and Daldarr taking the opposition. He met many Imperial officers, mostly as Loy's slave, but some of Loy's closest colleagues knew of the contract and accepted Daldarrr. Even Loy's superior, Captain Oirt L'hommu, took part in Daldarr's training. However, all of this occurred behind closed doors; in public, Daldarrr was just another slave to abuse. Loy was a strict, harsh master in public, routinely beating Daldarrr for his imperfections. The lieutenant did his utmost to limit the abuse to what he doled out, politely and firming informing other officers that only he could abuse his slave. But Daldarr still received plenty of beatings. He never forgot his attackers' names
Over time, the Mon Calamari fell under the Imperial spell. Unlike Ackbar, whose anti-Imperial resolve only hardened as Tarkin's slave, Daldarr embraced the Empire. He stopped referring to himself as a Mon Calamari and started calling himself an Imperial citizen or soldier. He began to see the wisdom in the Emperor's actions and philosophy. He saw his philosophy successfully implemented: the Empire used violence when needed, but only to ensure peace for its loyal citizens. Daldarr began arguing for the extermination of those who threatened the peace of the Galactic Empire: the mere threat of resistance, he claimed, was reason enough to eradicate them. Ironically, a day after positing this hypothesis to his master, the recently-promoted Lieutenant Commander Loy received a transfer to a space station currently in orbit around Alderaan. As they said good-bye, Loy granted Daldarr his freedom and handed him a notice—signed by both Loy and L'hommu—stating that Daldarr was to report immediately to Prefsbelt IV for matriculation. Daldarr was now an Imperial citizen and would soon be officially an Imperial soldier.
Daldarr survived Prefsbelt IV. Certainly, he graduated, but the strenuous and trying aspects of his time at the naval academy were outside the classroom. He was one of only a handful of non-Human beings attending the school. The most die-hard Imperials tormented him and his fellow aliens mercilessly; again, he would remember their names and faces. The atmosphere at Prefsbelt IV was tense and uneasy as the Civil War continued. Many students abandoned prestigious commissions and joined the rebels upon graduation. The Chancellor took steps to stem the outflow, but the measures only increased the attacks on the non-Humans: the rebels consorted with and courted non-Humans, thus the non-Humans were only at Prefsbelt IV to learn how to fly against the Empire, or so thought the elitists. In fact, none of the non-Humans enrolled at the Imperial Naval Academy defected; about a quarter of the Humans left for the rebel alliance. In spite of (or because of) the hostility against him, Daldarr was one of the top students in his class. His strategic plans were lauded for their flexibility and daring. His dogfighting skills, though not the best, were hailed as 'survivalistic', a grand accolade considering the proportion of TIE Fighter pilots who do not return from their first mission.
Daldarr's first commission was aboard the Nebulon-B Frigate Searcher, a pirate hunter based out of Yag'Dhul and assigned to protecting the Corellian Trade Spine. He was promoted to Ensign and assigned as the Battery Captain's Assistant. Although he hated his commission—discriminatory commanders made life unbearable, and he trained to be a pilot not a gunner—he performed his job excellently. Within a year, he was made Battery Captain, overseeing all the Searchers batteries, and increasing his pension via promotion to Lieutenant. His superiors noted Daldarr's “preternatural” targeting skill: the Mon Calamari would often order his gunners to fire seemingly at random, but in reality, he was coordinating a constant stream of fire against several ships. Eventually, his skill at gunnery garnered the attention of larger ships. Daldarr was transferred to the Victory-Class Star Destroyer Ceaseless, an orbital bombardment ship. He felt at home on the Ceaseless as his superiors tolerated his presence and his brilliance was both aiding the Empire and his career. An officer aboard the Inamo, a Frigate attached to the same battlegroup as the Ceaseless, a Chiss named Stephen Ronin requested Daldarr to train his gunners. Within three sessions, the Inamos gunners had increased their accuracy and precision by 15%. For his outstanding service, Daldarr received another promotion, Lieutenant Commander.
Mere hours after his new rank cylinders synchronized with the security computer, Daldarr's gunnery skills were strenuously tested. The Inamo, Searcher, and a squadron of Corellian Corvettes were ordered to investigate rumors of a possible mass defection along the Rimma Trade Route near Eriadu. Daldarr was aboard the Inamo, teaching. When they arrived, they found two MC40a Cruisers and their starfighter compliment waiting for the defectors to arrive (in a Nebulon-B Frigate, no less). The battle was terrible. Only through the Imperial commanders' cunning and Daldarr's gunnery greatness was the Empire able to salvage a victory. Though the Corvette squadron was sacrificed and the Inamo and Searcher very badly damaged, they emerged victorious. Daldarr had a tactical advantage over the rebels as he was quite familiar with the MC40a's deficiencies and was able to coordinate the strike force's batteries on those weak points. It was at this battle that Daldarr earned the nickname “Fish Hunter”. Having grown weary of being bypassed for promotions due to his name and heritage, he modified the nickname slightly and had his official record changed to “Troutrooper”.
The plan worked. Within a month, Troutrooper was afforded the opportunity to be a fighter pilot. A research facility on Corva Yag in the Minos Cluster wanted some experienced and discreet officers for “patrol and protection of the facility”. In reality, the pilots were planetary bouncers: passive-aggressively informing people to stay away from the lab in their very advanced and heavily-armed fighters, and “removing” those who did not heed the obvious warnings. Troutrooper found the time to be fairly enjoyable, albeit boring. After experiencing the torments and horrors of war aboard a gigantic warship, he found this position to be balancing and serene. He knew he would return to the Imperial War Machine eventually. This post enabled him to develop his fighter pilot skills without fear of humiliation in front of a large group or death.
In addition to improving his flying skills, Troutrooper used the downtime to improve his mind. The research facility had a dedicated Holovid connection to the Imperial Archives, of which he took full advantage. He was interested in finding other people like him, others who always seemed to have the benefit of luck. When asked how he was always firing at precisely the perfect time and location, Troutrooper always shrugged and said he was lucky. But he knew that was a lie. Something deeper told him where, when, and how to shoot. The data scraps he compiled were contradictory, confusing. From his research, he concluded that either a spiritual leader had blessed him when he was just a parr or he had a connection to the Force. Not wanting to associate himself with a bunch of dead peaceniks (and a bit afraid of the ramifications of being Force-sensitive), Troutrooper declared himself to be blessed. He was—and is—blessed, but not by any shaman.
Interregnum
Troutrooper's plans were on track when the Battle of Endor derailed everything. His job, pension, career, Archives access, sense of belonging, purpose, and desire to keep fighting exploded with the second Death Star. As the research facility lost its funding and shut down, Troutrooper had to find employment elsewhere. His pilot buddies all went separate directions—their homeworlds, various Imperial factions, and even a couple joined the New Republic—and all invited him along for the ride. However, Troutrooper decided to go to the one place in the universe he would always be welcome, Dac. He, like all wanderers, needed to center himself at the only place he truly knew.
But Dac was not the place he knew. With the collapse of the Empire, the rebel-supporting Mon Calamari were jubilant. Banners proclaiming the dawn of a new age fluttered from every flagpole and balcony. A giant rebel alliance symbol lit up the southern sea, a beacon of hope shining brightly. From the youngest baby to the most crippled and oldest veteran, all radiated joy. And then Troutrooper returned. Though he had stowed his Imperial uniform in his luggage, word had spread of Daldarr's “defection” to the Empire. Friends and relatives shunned, cursed, and belittled him. They flaunted pictures of the Death Star's demise and of revered hero Admiral Ackbar in his face. Even his parents refused to see him initially, though they eventually did albeit extremely reluctantly. They told him that his middle brother and sister were both killed for “anti-Imperial activities” even though his brother was a merchant and his sister was an engine mechanic in the Corporate Sector (Only later would Troutrooper learn that his brother supplied parts and scrap to the rebel alliance for free while his sister taught young rebels how to build and repair hyperdrives). His father castigated him for “wasting his gifts”; his mother screamed at him through streams of tears for ruining the family's reputation and fighting for the oppression, enslavement, and annihilation of the Mon Calamarian people. Grudgingly, they allowed their youngest son to stay with them for a few days, just long enough for Troutrooper to visit with his few remaining friends.
During his short visit, he met a female Mon Calamari by the name of Omiti. He spotted her across the room in a museum. After some flirtatious chatting and a romantic dinner, they became inseparable. Four years his junior and filled with teen angst, she longed to escape the shackles of her homeworld. Troutrooper told her everything about his background; Omiti shrugged her shoulders and said he had to do what he thought was best for himself. Though not of legal marrying age, Omiti received her parents' blessing to go with Troutrooper on his journeys across the galaxy; they knew they would lose her to wanderlust soon enough and were just happy to know she was with someone who genuinely cared and loved her.
After leaving Dac, Troutrooper spent the next few years bouncing from barren asteroid to barren asteroid. Job prospects were few and far between. Freighter pilot, security guard, model for Mon Calamari swimwear, he and Omiti traveled the length and breadth of the galaxy just to make ends meet. Times were tough for the non-Human, ex-Imperial soldier. In loyal systems, he was denied employment because of his species. In rebel systems, he was denied employment because employers thought he was a liar; a Mon Calamari loyal to the Empire is quite rare indeed. Thus, he was forced to scratch out a living in the Outer Rim among the neutral systems. But, like always, '”luck” was on his side. Troutrooper always found just enough credits to keep his family fed and housed until the next job. And he always seemed to find another job immediately after his current job ended. Their situation slowly ate at the new couple: Omiti had lived in the same abode her entire life and was unaccustomed to the transient lifestyle; Troutrooper simply wanted a stable job that paid enough for him to enjoy life with his new bride. These were not happy times.
But the universe is in a constant state of flux; happy or sad times do not last. Troutrooper was employed as a customs agent aboard a space station far in the Outer Rim. A shuttle from a planet called Aurora stopped by to deliver goods. The courier claimed to be a Sub-Lieutenant in the service of an Imperial-aligned organization known as the Emperor's Hammer. Troutrooper had vaguely heard of the Emperor's Hammer before, but had never met a commissioned officer. The courier told him of the might of the Fleet— a Sovereign-class Super Star Destroyer was the jewel of the Fleet, escorted by half a dozen Imperial Star Destroyers—and the greatness of their lead, Grand Admiral Ronin. Troutrooper certainly remembered his one-time battlegroup mate, and, with the permission of the courier, loaded his family into the shuttle and headed for Aurora Prime.
Troutrooper did not immediately enlist in the Emperor's Hammer upon arrival to Aurora Prime. He wanted more information on this splinter Fleet. After a couple months of more odd jobs and fact-finding, Troutrooper made his way to the nearest Emperor's Hammer recruitment office. In three days, he would be shipped off to basic enlistee training. However, his wife “strongly encouraged” him to contact the Fleet Commander; a nod from Ronin would change his status from enlisted grunt to respected officer. Troutrooper went back to the recruitment office to see if he could get contact his old battlegroup companion. Amazingly, the Fleet Commander happened to be at the recruiting office that same day: he was personally awarding a medal to the recruitment officer for the recruiter's exemplary job. Seizing on the shift in his luck, he reintroduced himself to Ronin, who recognized him immediately. Troutrooper asked only to go to Imperial Weapons and Tactics School (IWATS), the Emperor's Hammer's officer training academy, instead of having to wait one year like other enlisted men. Ronin happily agreed, saying that he could not give Troutrooper a commission immediately because it would be unfair to all the other former Imperial officers who could not prove their former status; the downfall of the Empire resulted in the loss of billions of military personnel records. The next shuttle for Platform Daedalus was scheduled to leave early the next day, so Troutrooper hurried home to prepare.
Officer training the second time around was much easier for Troutrooper. Not only did he know the material, but the overt, anti-alien bias was nowhere to be found; those with anti-alien prejudices did not join a Fleet run by a Chiss. However, he graduated in the middle of his class as the bell curve was heavily skewed by so many former Imperial officers taking the training over again. And like many of the officers-in-training, Troutrooper graduated in the shortest allowable time. He viewed the IWATS training as a mere formality: graduation rank was secondary to simply graduating. Thus, though there were interesting classes he could have taken, he took the bare minimum, graduated, and saved those courses for another time.
From Platform Daedalus to the TIE Corps and the Imperial Star Destroyer Colossus. Oddly enough, Troutrooper had never been on an ISD before. The immense size of the Colossus dwarfed his old home aboard the Searcher. Luckily, the first day was spent being shuttled from one meet-and-greet session to another, so he did not have to find his way around just yet. Assigned to Omicron squadron, Flight 2, Position 2, his commander was Commander Devlin and his Flight Leader was Lieutenant Commander Dall Star. Though Troutrooper had had many superiors throughout his life, Devlin and Dall Star would impact the trajectory of his Emperor's Hammer and Dark Brotherhood career more than any. In addition to showing him the idiosyncrasies of this new Fleet, Devlin and Dall Star taught Troutrooper what he needed to do and how he needed to act in order to advance as a pilot; he received only one rank promotion while on Corva Yag, and had been out of the military since just after the Battle of Endor. Many would alter the course of Troutrooper's career, but Devlin and Dall Star aimed him initially, sending Troutrooper to heights he never imagined possible. Though he had to take a leave of absence (family-related) within two weeks of his assignment, Troutrooper quickly became the best pilot in the squadron. The training Devlin and Dall Star put him through and the increased intensity of flying with eleven other aces dramatically improved Troutrooper's abilities. Truly, he was enjoying himself: he was helping the Empire rebuild and helping himself ascend.
And the Colossus was the place to learn. Many officers stationed on the Colossus at that time would make themselves known to the Fleet and galaxy as a whole: Ari Gilder, Kromtal Stormfyld, Compton, Mell, Oldham, Zystem Fryar, Linkan all flew for the greatest ship in the Emperor's Hammer Fleet. Troutrooper learned from them all, soaking up as much as he could as fast as he could. He and Kromtal, in particular, became good friends as they both joined the Fleet and were assigned to Omicron squadron at nearly the same times. The two did not seem to have much in common—Troutrooper was quiet, reflective, whimsical, thoughtful; Kromtal was boisterous, rash, insulting—but the relationship was strong. Both were exceptional pilots and were fiercely loyal to the Empire and each other. Yin requires yang, and yang requires yin. Though a more master-student relationship, Troutrooper befriended his Commodore, Ari. As opposed to his “opposites attract” friendship with his squadmate, Ari and Troutrooper were similar in temperament and thoughts. They often chatted for long stretches of time in the Colossus cantina, discussing galactic politics and Fleet rumors until their shifts started.
It was in the cantina that Troutrooper first became aware of the Dark Brotherhood. He had seen a couple robed figures on Aurora, but shrugged them off as a religious fanatics from some distant system. The Colossus, though, harbored its fair share of Dark Brothers and Sisters. One in particular, Chei-Ras, the Commander of Eta Squadron, liked to flaunt his Dark Jedi Knight skills in the cantina by telekinetically tossing new Colossus pilots around the room. Troutrooper, falling into that category, was subjected to several “orientations” by Chei-Ras. Curious (not to mention tired of being bounced around for three months), he asked how the Commander was able to fling people about. Chei-Ras asked Troutrooper what he knew about the Force. When Troutrooper said he knew nothing, Chei-Ras told him the basics of the Force—how it connects and binds all living things, the two sides of the Force, and why the Dark Side is infinitely superior to the Light Side—and tested him for Force sensitivity. A simple test: Chei-Ras wrote ten random numbers on a piece of paper and had Troutrooper guess them. The trick was that he wrote nine numbers and one word. Troutrooper guessed them all, including the word. Impressed, Chei-Ras pulled some strings and got Troutrooper on the next flight to the home of the Dark Brotherhood.
Eos, Aurora Prime's small, frigid, desolate moon. Home of the Dark Brotherhood. It has been said that the prior to the erection of the Dark Hall, Eos was actually a rather pleasant and hospitable place. However, the concentration of Dark Side energy quickly burned up all life outside the Dark Hall. Troutrooper, like all other Initiates, was awed by the Dark Hall. Walking through the massive foyer with the busts of (in)famous Dark Brothers and Sisters, he was humbled and proud: humbled by the awesomeness of fortress, proud to know that he had a connection to the Force just like those immortalized in marble. He marveled at the elaborate Elder robes and stared in wonder at the shiny, metal cylinders hanging from the belt of those in black robes. As with any visitor to the Dark Hall, Troutrooper walked woozily around, the immense and stupefying Dark Side power imbued in the walls overwhelming his senses. With some help, he made his way to the Initiate Information Booth. A quick conversation with the friendly green-and-red-robed Twi’lek working the booth revealed he needed directions to training, and, with a map in hand, he was off to the Shadow Academy.
His stay at the Shadow Academy was divided and unremarkable. At the time, the Shadow Academy nurtured students all the way through Guardian. Thus, between his TIE Corps duties and his newly-required Dark Brotherhood duties, Troutrooper found himself in passenger holds more than cockpits. And yes, Troutrooper joined the Brotherhood as a Sith for that is all he knew. All the Brothers on the Colossus were Sith. He had seen an Obelisk robe once prior to joining, but never a Krath. So he had more pilot training, but this time, the training was mixed with inculcations of incantations, rote ritual memorization, and careful centering and meditation. Troutrooper rather enjoyed the spiritual aspects, finding them intriguing and exciting. Mostly, the spiritual aspects were a departure from the flying training, of which he had had twice before.
Graduation saw Troutrooper assigned to House Galthain of Clan Satal Keto. However, he did not spend much time flying for Galthain and his squadron, Ghostrider, much to Quaestor Ricardo’s chagrin. Even though a robe-wearing member, Troutrooper did not feel at home in the Brotherhood for a long time. He was simply enjoying his time in the TIE Corps. For example, about the same time the Colossus found herself vying for the title of Flagship of the TIE Corps Battlegroup, Clan Satal Keto found itself vying for the title of First Clan of the Brotherhood. Troutrooper fought with equal determination and effort, and though he won a Brotherhood event, his heart fought for the Colossus and Omicron. Perhaps his wife's influence pushed him towards the TIE Corps: she was not fond of him joining “some freakish cult”. Or maybe he was intimidated by the more powerful Dark Jedi: that, with training and time, he might become so powerful. Most likely, though, Troutrooper was a pilot and soldier first, darksider second.
Not to say he did not progress. By the end of the year, Troutrooper had so impressed his superiors that they put him through the Dark Jedi Knight trials. In addition to Jedi Hunter, Troutrooper was also a Major in the TIE Corps, on second tenure as a Commander (first Omicron squadron, then Eta). Still, his trials were dangerous, complex, deadly, important; in other words, typical trials. Several ice barges on Hiran, a planet in the Pirath system, disappeared under mysterious circumstances. They were carrying unremarkable cargo through established routes under fair skies (as fair as the skies are in winter on Hiran). All three left on the same day on different routes, all three vanished on the same day. Such barges suffer traumatic fates regularly. What raised eyebrows was the scene of the disappearances: the corpses of the crews at each scene were stacked up and had holes that strongly resembled the mark of a lightsaber. Both the Intelligence Division and the Dark Brotherhood were alerted to this rather macabre crime. Intel wrote up a quick report and left, not wanting to bother with what they considered to be the local security force's job. The Brotherhood, however, was determined to solve this mystery. The obvious possibilities—rogue Brother or Sister killing innocents wantonly, Jedi in Emperor's Hammer space, non-Force-sensitive murderer running amok with a lightsaber, splinter group from the Brotherhood—were anathema to the Dark Council. Seeing as how he was close to his trials anyway and could investigate underwater surreptitiously, Troutrooper was given the odious task.
Supposedly, it was an odious task, but the assignment quickly devolved into merely straight-forward detective work. The obvious answers were thrown out the window within minutes of Troutrooper’s examination of the bodies: the victims were not impaled on a lightsaber, but were killed by a chemical agent then cored by some sort of energy beam-based drill. And though there are millions of trained professional killers in the galaxy, whoever committed this atrocity was no better than a journeyman bounty hunter. Fingerprints and tissues of the killer(s) were left behind, the killer(s) used traceable means of travel (standard shuttle services requiring unique identification), and canisters of the killing chemical were found aboard each wrecked ship. Troutrooper realized why Intel had abandoned the case: it was too easy for them, so they decided not to waste their time. Within a week, Troutrooper had all the evidence he needed—culprits, modus operandi, timeline of events—except motive. The culprits, who were languishing in the dungeons of the Dark Hall after being captured alive by Troutrooper following a three-world chase, were hired guns. The financiers of the operation, though, were going to be tricky to ascertain and draw out. Troutrooper applied the approved methods of “data extraction” upon the captured crooks to no avail: they were hired through several middlemen, none of whom were worth pursuing. Thinking about it more, Troutrooper realized that the faux lightsaber holes were meant to implicate the Brotherhood in this crime. He petitioned the Dark Council for information on recently-terminated business contracts. From a list of twenty-three, four were with companies that had holdings on Hiran. And of those four, only one had cargo on any of the ships involved; in fact, it had cargo on all three sunken ships (via holding companies owned entirely by aliases used by the companies’ board members). With death warrants and lightsaber in his fins, Troutrooper headed to company’s headquarters. A few simple mind tricks got him past the simpleton guards; few well-placed saber slashes got him past the computerized door locks. The CEO never saw Troutrooper’s blade.
After returning to Eos and receiving his promotion, Troutrooper again turned his attention away from the Brotherhood. Within a month, he accepted a position as Wing Commander of his TIE Corps Wing, then Commodore of the Colossus. He began to drift from Galthain, completely understandable given that his Galthain assignments involved eliminating pirates near the Clan home system and his Colossus duties involved saving the ship from being shut down by a hateful Battlegroup Commander. Trourooper’s tenure as Commodore lasted two months as he was selected to be the second Command Attaché to the Tactical Officer. Clanmate Arso Slyth and he worked long hours on the Sovereign for StarLion, the Tactical Officer. Together, they were extremely successful in maintaining and running the Fleet at peak efficiency.
It was during his tenure as Command Attaché that Troutrooper began to question his Order affiliation. The Sith desire power above all else, and while Troutrooper enjoyed the perks of command and was enjoying the skyward trajectory of his Emperor’s Hammer career, he did not thirst for power. He wanted to make the Fleet better, and did so by taking positions that he thought would enable him to do so. However, he realized that he was not as successful in those positions as others. The Sith in him relished the titles and power; the rest of him hated him for performing so inadequately. In addition, Troutrooper had tired of flying. His position required him to fly in simulators non-stop to determine the feasibility of battle plans. He was in the simulator room so much he put a portable pool in. So Troutrooper began studying the other Orders. He was not an Obelisk: he had no desire to become devoted to the ways of the lightsaber and the warrior. But the Krath Order appealed to him. He still studied (when he had the time) old histories of the glorious days of the Sith Empire, he was amazed by the mysteries the Krath held in their tomes and holocrons, and he looked good in purple. Exhausted with flying (his resignation from Command Attaché was on Starlion’s desk), enthusiasm for power waning, and yearning to uncover the Order’s mysteries, Troutrooper turned in keys to his Galthain TIE fighter and received the key to House Aleema’s library.
House Aleema was a place with which Troutrooper was not all that familiar. The Clan’s Krath Brothers and Sisters kept to themselves, not unsurprising considering the Clan was dominated by Galthain and Kirleta. Of all the Krath Houses in the Brotherhood, Aleema was one of the quietest and least respected. After the whirlwind that was the Tactical Office, Troutrooper welcomed the peace and quiet. He was able to spend more time with his wife and family, and looked forward to each new day. However, with the appointment of Quaestor Kaiann, Aleema ceased to be peaceful. New initiatives were implemented, the House had a bold, new direction, and Troutrooper was asked to assist Kaiann as his Aedile. With his home life in order and his body and soul recharged, Troutrooper accepted the honor. Together, Kaiann and Troutrooper brought new life to the dormant House. Activity increased, members flowed in, and Aleema started to be known for its success rather its sleepiness.
Soon, the Force took Troutrooper’s career in a different direction. The newly-(re)formed Imperial Security Bureau was looking for possible agents. No experience required, just fearsome loyalty to the Emperor’s Hammer. Intrigued, Troutrooper sent his resume in. Within a week, he was accepted, and, after a quick Holovid tutorial, he had his first two assignments. These initial assignments were very simple as they were designed to acquaint nascent agents with the procedures of the Bureau. Troutrooper’s assignments involved monitoring the Holovid communication between two Arconans and tracking a member of Clan Alvaak when he arrived for a meeting with the Consul of Satal Keto. At first he felt awkward, slimy tracking fellow Brothers, but he quickly overcame those feelings: he was helping the Fleet as a whole, and, thus, the Brotherhood, especially if he found something serious and potentially threatening to the Fleet. Nothing substantial came from these assignments except a slowly growing desire to continue helping the Fleet in this manner.
This was one of the best times of Troutrooper’s career. He was advancing in skills, knowledge, rank, and prestige in the Brotherhood, the Intelligence community, and the Fleet as a whole. He was working hard, yet still had time for his family. Most importantly, Troutrooper enjoyed everything he was doing. His Aleema duties were tough but pleasant, and his Imperial Security Bureau tasks were intriguing and interesting.
However, he was not to remain in the Bureau for long. His superior, Kerridwen Jorddyn, had accepted the position of Supreme Director of the Intelligence Division. She needed someone to aid in the training of new recruits. After receiving a glowing recommendation from the Emperor’s Hammer Internet Officer—Troutrooper’s former Commodore, Ari—she offered the position of Tactics and Training Director to Troutrooper. True, he had very little espionage training, but the position required someone to handle paperwork more than someone with in-depth expertise. Not someone to turn down such a prestigious offer, Troutrooper accepted. At some level, he realized that this was his ticket, his path to where he ultimately saw himself: a sitting member of the Dark Council. Sure, he could work his way up through Quaestor, Proconsul, and maybe even Consul, but this opportunity would show the Grand Master that he could handle Subgroup Command Staff-level responsibilities right now. Some might say that Troutrooper’s “Sith-itis” flared up: his desire for power fueling his ascension more than his desire to help the Fleet. Troutrooper always says that if another officer deems one worthy enough of an award or honor, only the vain and foolish would decline it.
The Intelligence Division was—and still is—little more than a group of surveillance specialists. Ronin tolerated their presence as a necessary evil. The Executive Officers used Intel’s services sparingly and usually only for tracking suspicious individuals. The Imperial Security Bureau turned out to be a short-lived experiment like the equally-unsuccessful Sector Rangers. Between the Intelligence Division, the Security Office, local police forces, and the Subgroups’ internal law enforcement officers, the Emperor’s Hammer territories were considered fairly safe. No large-scale, external threats ever threatened the peace; the large-scale threats that did were all internal. Intel had always been under-funded and under-manned. Case in point: Troutrooper, a new Imperial Security Bureau agent who was promoted to Tactics and Training Director. Agents were preoccupied with other Fleet duties. The Ubiqtorate, the command staff of the Intel Division, did its best to maintain the security and solvency of the Fleet, but between the rampant apathy among agents, little funding, and lack of administrative support, their hands were routinely tied. And due to the lack of financial support, the Ubiqtorate was in need of serious help. Only two of the six Ubiqtorate positions were occupied when Troutrooper joined: Jorddyn the Supreme Director and the Situation Liaison Director (whose identity remains classified).
Troutrooper, not knowing what he was getting into, adapted to his new duties well. His main task was reviving the decrepit Academy of Tactics. Through hard work and piles of paperwork, Troutrooper managed to get the Academy back into shape. Cell leaders noted that the new field operatives were better prepared than even they had been. Some veteran agents even returned to the Academy to bolster their skills. So used was the Academy that Troutrooper reinstated the title of 00*, an honor only nine could hold at any given time.
Jorddyn, needing to fill those empty positions, soon promoted Troutrooper to Executive Director of the Intelligence Division. For a little while, this was a nominal promotion as Troutrooper was still in charge of the Academy of Tactics. But the position formalized what was established informally back in the Imperial Security Bureau: Jorddyn was Troutrooper’s mentor. This arrangement was beneficial to both: Troutrooper needed Jorddyn’s espionage training and expertise; Jorddyn needed Troutrooper’s steadying influence and wisdom. Together, they reorganized the Division completely. Tedious but required, the reorganization improved communication and the efficacy of missions. The only person not pleased with this arrangement was Troutrooper’s wife. Though she and Jorddyn were pleasant to each other whenever they met, she was always a bit suspicious of her husband’s close relationship to another woman. Troutrooper assured her many times that he was not attracted to any Human and that Jorddyn was already married to and had a son with Timbal.
Somehow, Troutrooper was able to juggle his Intel and Aleema responsibilities. Kaiann was handling the day-to-day tasks of Aleema with aplomb; Troutrooper conferred with his Quaestor everyday via the Holonet to keep abreast of the daily happenings and help Kaiann with the direction of the House. It was not easy, but Troutrooper enjoyed the hectic pace. He had always been one of the most active officers in the Fleet. Flying, reporting, leading, studying, Troutrooper was always doing. And usually, he was very successful. His medal case was burgeoning, and he already outranked most of the Fleet and Brotherhood. Vice Admiral and Krath Archpriest, two prestigious ranks.
Within a few months, Kaiann tired on command and resigned. Troutrooper assumed the mantle of Quaestor. Now more than ever, he found himself stretched. Thankfully, Jorddyn allowed him to spend more time with his House. Troutrooper’s mentoring was almost finished: whereas initially he needed Jorddyn more, she now needed Troutrooper more. As advice can be given from afar via the Holonet as easily as in person, Jorddyn acquiesced to Troutrooper’s many leave of absence requests. His time as Quaestor was uneventful, short, and rather forgettable. Nothing of import happened to him or anyone else in Aleema. He took over during a lull and left during that same lull.
Troutrooper’s reason for leaving Quaestor, a position for which he felt aptly suited, was the fulfillment of his Brotherhood career’s goal. After a public—and rather degrading—argument in the foyer of the Dark Hall, then-Deputy Grand Master Astatine fired Headmaster Mejas Doto. Although public opinion was in Doto’s favor, Troutrooper silently agreed with Astatine. He never thought Mejas was a good Headmaster, more talk than substance. He thought his chances at Headmaster were better than they were for any other Dark Council position: not only had he proven himself on a subgroup command staff, but he had served as a subgroup’s training officer as well. Little did he know that his mentor was nearly ensuring his appointment to Headmaster: Jorddyn wrote a very persuasive letter of recommendation for Troutrooper. GM Firefox, who respected the efforts of the Intel Division and knew Jorddyn quite well, listed Troutrooper as his top candidate. However, he was concerned that Troutrooper would not be available. So Firefox met with Jorddyn and Troutrooper to allay his concerns regarding Troutrooper’s schedule. At this meeting, Jorddyn announced her time as Supreme Director was coming to an end; within four months, she would retire. Her hope was that Troutrooper would succeed her. After a few minutes, an arrangement was made: Troutrooper would take over as Headmaster until Jorddyn stepped down, at which time he would take over Supreme Director. He could then choose to remain Headmaster or resign.
The next few months flew by for Troutrooper. In addition to his Executive Director duties—which involved several delicate assignments—he now had the immense responsibilities of Headmaster. He flew between Eos and the Dungeon Ship Lichtor V so frequently, he often flew without his customary fighter escort (which worried and annoyed the Supreme Director to no end). However, Troutrooper excelled in his position as Headmaster. Firefox gave him leave to manage the Shadow Academy as he saw fit. Thus enabled, Troutrooper opened several new courses that had been sitting on the previous Headmaster’s desk, for which many students—new and old—had been clamoring. The forgettable-yet-necessary paperwork ate up most of his time as it does for all Dark Councilors.
With brewing plans and the support of his superiors, Troutrooper envisioned a long tenure as Headmaster. But his mentor had finally tired of her position; Jorddyn stepped down from Supreme Director. Although he was given a choice, Troutrooper knew he would be ruining both positions if he attempted to run both offices simultaneously. And whereas there were at least three solid Headmaster successors, Troutrooper was the only person capable of running the Intelligence Division at that time. Jorddyn had groomed him. No one else was even remotely ready. Finally, because he was groomed specifically to succeed Jorddyn, Troutrooper knew he would disappoint his mentor if he did not choose Supreme Director over all of his other duties. So with a heavy heart, he waddled in to the Grand Master’s chambers and turned his letter of resignation and the keys to the Shadow Academy. He was elated to find Firefox waiting for him with a Ruby Scepter and the robes of a Pontifex. The Grand Master wished Troutrooper well and thanked him for his services. They said their goodbyes, and, with Praetorian Squadron flanking his shuttle, he headed for the Lichtor V.
Unbeknownst to him, this would be the last time he saw Firefox on the Iron Throne and the Dark Hall on Eos in all its glory.
Supreme Director of the Intelligence Division was a title Troutrooper did not know existed when he joined the Emperor’s Hammer, nor did he ever expect to be called by that title at any point until he was announced as such aboard the Lichtor V. Yes, though he was groomed for Supreme Director, Troutrooper did not count on the promotion until it was made official by the Fleet Commander and Executive Officer. His tenure as Supreme Director went swimmingly for a while. Several important missions were completed, including a couple sabotage suppressions that resulted in quiet—but messy—High Court of Inquisitor trials. Another reorganization took place: this time, instead of an entirely new organizational chart, Troutrooper reformed the Division back to the way it was. He did not want to do it, but felt as though Intel would be better served with fewer levels of administration. A big project of his was developing sleeper cells within each Subgroup. These cells—never more than three people—would work in their Subgroup as any normal member. They would report in regularly, and, if required, would carry out orders handed down from the Supreme Director himself; unlike other agents, who could receive orders from anyone on the Ubiqtorate, these agents received orders only from Troutrooper. He would only call upon one cell during his tenure.
Part of Troutrooper’s duties was to maintain regular communication with the other Subgroup Commanders. Everyday he was discussing plans with at least one of the leaders of the other Subgroups. His former boss, Firefox, was one of his closest companions. They talked at least every other day. Not only was this part of Troutrooper’s job, but he had a vested interest in Firefox’s subgroup. He passionately wanted to see the Brotherhood thrive; there were more than a few days in which he thought he had made the wrong decision. Though Troutrooper felt still like Firefox’s subordinate, Firefox seemed to confide in him as much as anyone. He was surprised when Firefox openly bashed the Executive Officer to the biggest gossip in the Fleet, for example.
In fact, Astatine was the topic of their discussions more than anything else. Troutrooper had always been friendly with Astatine. He saw the Executive Officer’s anger on more than one occasion, but figured such outbursts come when one manages the day-to-day activities of the largest Fleet in the Outer Rim. He himself had avoided Astatine’s wrath. Troutrooper did his work without question or fail. That was in and of itself enough to avoid a public castigation. But over time and with each successive move up the hierarchy, Troutrooper became less impressed with the Executive Officer. He noted contradictions between Astatine’s speeches and policies, saw protest resignations from some of the most respected officers in the Fleet’s history, and heard either anger or resignation in many of the Subgroup Commanders’ voices when they spoke of the Executive Officer. Firefox, in particular, had harsh words to say to the Executive Officer. For one, Astatine was simultaneously Firefox’s direct superior and direct subordinate as he was the Executive Officer and Deputy Grand Master. That fact was widely bemoaned throughout the Fleet: even Troutrooper had told Astatine of his dislike of the situation.
But ultimately, Troutrooper was continually reminded of Jorddyn’s opinion of Astatine: though coarse and prickly, Astatine always works for the betterment of the Emperor’s Hammer. And he saw evidence of that every day. Whereas Kowalski, the previous Executive Officer, was admired for his subtlety, Astatine was despised because he pushed people to their limits. But the Fleet reaped the rewards for his aggressive manner, most prominently via increased activity Fleet-wide. Troutrooper often wondered what chemical additives Astatine ingested to remain so alert, awake, and active for such long periods of time; more than once, he wondered how the Executive Officer could sustain so much activity for as long as he did.
About a year into his tenure and well into an extremely delicate and potentially explosive mission that required hands-on assistance from the Supreme Director, Troutrooper took a leave. His wife ordered him to take some time off. So he arranged for a two-day leave from the Fleet; a lovely resort on the coast on Dar in the Heir system. Nothing major, just a couple days away from everything with his beloved wife. She stipulated that he could not be in contact with anyone affiliated with the Emperor's Hammer for the duration of their getaway. Reluctantly, he switched off his comlinks; maintaining good familial relations is important. And though he thought constantly of his responsibilities, Troutrooper enjoyed the vacation. One thing did bother him: a cryptic, foreboding message he received from Firefox the night before they left. The Grand Master was not one to mince words with him, but this message was ominous yet puzzling. Troutrooper tried to put it out of his mind and did (with some help from his blushing bride). He was only allowed to turn them back on once the shuttle lifted off.
Upon arrival at the Lichtor V, she did not see her husband for two weeks.