http://mercjedi.livejournal.com/ (
mercjedi.livejournal.com) wrote in
trans_92010-07-06 10:40 pm
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Boot Camp Day 1 [Closed to Rogue Squadron]
Kyle paced as he waited for the new recruits to assemble. He'd had the Sensoriums replicate one of the old parade grounds at Carida for this introduction. It had been stripped of all the Imperial monuments of course. The academy had thousands of years of history long before the Empire so it was still a suitable place for inspiring young soldiers, or so he hoped.
Once the recruits had assembled they'd see a very different Kyle Katarn than they were used to. Gone was any of the relaxed mercenary clothing. Instead it had been replaced with the perfectly pressed uniform of an Academy instructor. Normally he'd never be caught dead in this thing, but he had a responsibility to the squadron to do this right. That meant standing on ceremony, and discipline including wearing of uniforms. Plus it was a classic image of Boot anywhere, and he didn't want them to feel they'd missed out somehow.
Once the recruits had arrived, and had managed to organize themselves into something resembling a formation Kyle began to pace in front of them. The heels of his perfectly spit-shined boots clicked against the stones of the parade ground. Finally he stopped, and faced them. "Welcome to Basic Training for Rogue Squadron. I am Drill Instructor Katarn for those of you who do not know me. Drill Instructor Chacon, and myself will be responsible for training all of you for the next six weeks. At all times you will address us as Sir, or Drill Instructor. If you do not there will be consequences. Just like there will be consequences for any other breach of military etiquette, or failure to live up to the standards we have set. Am I understood?"
"The following weeks are not going to be easy. Nothing worth doing is. You can look at as an opportunity to grow, and learn something, or you can complain endlessly. Either way I will make sure you graduate this course. I would like to take this opportunity to remind all of you that you are here by choice, and it is choice that is going to keep you here. You are free to step out that door, and quit at anytime. There is however no coming back. You wash out that's it. If you stick it out though, and push yourself to meet the standard you will become members of Rogue Squadron." He paused for a moment to look over all of them trying to lock eyes with as many as he could. They technically shouldn't be meeting his gaze right now being at attention, but if they were he wasn't going to say anything. It was a good sign he had their attention.
Stepping back he pointed to a pile of orange flightsuits. "You will form an orderly line, and each take ONE of these uniforms. You will wear it each, and every day you are in training. It will be clean each morning, but not pressed. It's a combat uniform, and I will not have any of you reducing it's effectiveness by doing that. After that you will see Drill Instructor Chacon to receive your blaster rifle. Don't touch the safety, or mess with it in any way unless told to. A negligent discharge will put you, and someone else in a world of hurt. Now fall out!"
Once the recruits had assembled they'd see a very different Kyle Katarn than they were used to. Gone was any of the relaxed mercenary clothing. Instead it had been replaced with the perfectly pressed uniform of an Academy instructor. Normally he'd never be caught dead in this thing, but he had a responsibility to the squadron to do this right. That meant standing on ceremony, and discipline including wearing of uniforms. Plus it was a classic image of Boot anywhere, and he didn't want them to feel they'd missed out somehow.
Once the recruits had arrived, and had managed to organize themselves into something resembling a formation Kyle began to pace in front of them. The heels of his perfectly spit-shined boots clicked against the stones of the parade ground. Finally he stopped, and faced them. "Welcome to Basic Training for Rogue Squadron. I am Drill Instructor Katarn for those of you who do not know me. Drill Instructor Chacon, and myself will be responsible for training all of you for the next six weeks. At all times you will address us as Sir, or Drill Instructor. If you do not there will be consequences. Just like there will be consequences for any other breach of military etiquette, or failure to live up to the standards we have set. Am I understood?"
"The following weeks are not going to be easy. Nothing worth doing is. You can look at as an opportunity to grow, and learn something, or you can complain endlessly. Either way I will make sure you graduate this course. I would like to take this opportunity to remind all of you that you are here by choice, and it is choice that is going to keep you here. You are free to step out that door, and quit at anytime. There is however no coming back. You wash out that's it. If you stick it out though, and push yourself to meet the standard you will become members of Rogue Squadron." He paused for a moment to look over all of them trying to lock eyes with as many as he could. They technically shouldn't be meeting his gaze right now being at attention, but if they were he wasn't going to say anything. It was a good sign he had their attention.
Stepping back he pointed to a pile of orange flightsuits. "You will form an orderly line, and each take ONE of these uniforms. You will wear it each, and every day you are in training. It will be clean each morning, but not pressed. It's a combat uniform, and I will not have any of you reducing it's effectiveness by doing that. After that you will see Drill Instructor Chacon to receive your blaster rifle. Don't touch the safety, or mess with it in any way unless told to. A negligent discharge will put you, and someone else in a world of hurt. Now fall out!"

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