Jaran "Gunsmoke" Farlance

Jaran "Gunsmoke" Farlance
Biographical information
Homeworld	Osarian
Physical description
Species	Human
Gender	Male
Height	1.88 meters
Weight	225 pounds
Hair color	Light Brown; Long
Eye color	Blue
Chronological and political information
Era(s)	New Republic
Affiliation	Republic Shield Division
Ranks	2LT

Identification

• Current rank: 2LT
• Position: Active
• Medals: A total of 2.
• Starfighter: X-Wing - Chaz

Biography

Hi all.

My Name is Jaran Farlance but most people call me Gunsmoke (along with a few choice names I can't repeat here) and the top brass of the Rebel Squadrons have asked me to present you with a biography. A little insight to my life and how I came to be a part of the RS if you will.

So. Here goes...

I was born on the planet Osarian in the Expansion Region near the Corellian Run, and lived in Osa Prime, the planets capital city.

I was the only child of wealthy parents and when I say wealthy I mean the kind of wealth normally only afforded by royalty. In fact my parents were as close to royalty as you could get. My father being a high ranking official in the Senate and my mother a High Chief Whip in the systems interplanetary judiciary, I wanted for nothing. My Fathers’ position meant that I would not see much of him for periods of time throughout my youth as he was always busy trying to keep a fragile peace between our homeworld and the inhabitants of our neighbouring planet Rhommamool. The orbits of our two planets bought us to within a million kilometres of each other roughly every twenty years. Throughout history wars had raged between our two planets and although hostilities had ceased many years previously, an air of threat from Rhommamool had always been present and our race always felt that an attack from our poorer neighbours was imminent. The Rhommamoolians economy had faltered whilst ours had flourished meaning that while we lived a life of luxury, our neighbours lived in squalor. Decades earlier our government had taken control of the Rhommomoolian economy in an attempt to ease their burden but corrupt politicians had taken advantage of the situation to line their own pockets with what little resources Rhommamool had, making the situation ten times worse.

I was the original spoilt child born with a silver spoon in my mouth. My education was exemplary, which was only to be expected when attending only the finest of schools with the best tutors, and although it was always expected of me to follow in my parents footsteps by assuming a high rank in politics or law, I had other plans. Don't get me wrong I loved my parents but their constant lectures on fighting for the innocent and protecting those who could not protect themselves wore me down over time. My father especially would keep moaning about corruption in the government, how he was bitterly opposed to it and how he would always try to fight for better conditions for those living on Rhommamool.

In my mid-teens I had already developed a taste for the things that would lure me away from the straight and narrow, and by my own admission it didn't take much. I suppose I was not that much different from any other kid of my age. I lived for three things... Girls, Booze and the fastest ships I could get my hands on. What set me apart from the other kids was that my parents’ wealth meant I was able to pursue each of these to excess.

By twenty I had found a penchant for gambling. If there was a card game around you could bet I'd be involved. At six feet two inches tall and 16 stone of heavy set muscle I cut an intimidating figure and had a temper to match. It wasn't long before I became a familiar figure in many of the illegal activities that my parents frowned upon. Although they didn't approve of my activities they continued to cover my finances hoping that I would eventually calm down.

No one caused me trouble. Most were nervous of my violent disposition and those that weren't usually paid a rather nasty price. It would be nothing for me to wait in an alleyway for another gambler who had struck it lucky in a wager. I didn't need the money but would never allow anyone to get the better of me unless I had something to gain from it. I wouldn't lose a seconds sleep out of beating them to a pulp to retrieve my losses and had no fear of the law, after all one whiff of my fathers’ wallet would change the attitude of even the most stalwart of law bringers quicker than a Jedi mind trick. I was untouchable and I knew it.

At thirty I had befriended (or at least had become associated with) many of the galaxies best smugglers and most feared bounty hunters. I had even worked with a few purely for the thrill of the chase. It was one such character who was to be responsible for my arrival on that dust ball of a world known as tattoine four years ago. I had received a holo message from him telling of an old fashioned pod race that was to take place in the desert. The potential rewards for gambling were high due to pod racing being declared illegal over twenty years earlier. With this in mind I had fired up my hyperdrive and headed out for this backwater world.

On arrival at Tattoine I was greeted by the sight of an imperial star destroyer hanging ominously above the planets atmosphere. What could the empire want with a slum of a planet such as this? Surely the Empire would not send a star destroyer to sort out an illegal pod race. That would be a little heavy handed even for the empire.

I touched down in Mos Eisley space port and headed for the nearest bar. The Empires presence was everywhere. Stormtroopers were stopping and interrogating anybody who had droids with them. I was ignored which suited me right down to the ground. I had no fear of the Empire but could do without the hassle. On entering a small cantina I overheard two locals talking of an old man who had let loose with an old Jedi lightsabre cutting some poor fools arm off. That was precisely the kind of thing you could expect in a place like this, you had to be careful what you said and who you said it to. This was my kind of place. On a small stage to one side of the bar a band played a tune that although catchy at first would soon grate on the nerves. It didn't matter to me however as I would be looking for entertainment of a different kind.

After necking a few Alderian whiskeys I sat on my stool and looked around the crowded bar for female company. That's when I spotted my friend sitting on his own at a table in a dimly lit corner near the exit. Passed out drunk he wasn't exactly sitting, more slumped across the table. Poor Greedo never could take his drink. I went to sit next to him and shook him by the shoulder. "Come on old fellah. Wake up and show me the sights!"

I then realised this was one sleep that Greedo wasn't going to wake up from. Someone had unloaded a blaster into his stomach at point blank range from underneath the table. What a cowardly way to kill someone. Greedo must have suspected he was in trouble as his blaster lay in his hand. Sensing trouble and having left my weapon back on my ship I removed the blaster from his stiffening fingers and slipped out of the bar whilst trying to keep my head down.

Turning down an alleyway full of cheap hotels I couldn't help but feel that my every movement was being watched although I could see no one looking in my direction. Finding suitable accommodation I took a quick shower. I didn't know what to do. Would I start asking questions about the pod race and risk drawing unwanted attention to myself or would I just cut my losses and head home. I decided to forget the pod race. With such a large imperial presence here it would be unlikely to go ahead anyway. Instead I would continue in my quest to find entertainment in the form of a woman before leaving and so headed out to find another bar.

Fifteen minutes later I found myself passing some hanger bays, when a hollow voice called to me "Hey you there, stop where you are and put your hands in the air." It was the unmistakeable voice of a stormtrooper. Realising that I still had Greedos blaster tucked in to my belt I knew what would happen next. I would be interrogated and have a hard time convincing these guys that I had not done away with my friend. Normally I would take my chances in a fight but on turning around I realised I would stand no chance as six stormtroopers were advancing towards me.

Suddenly a blaster bolt shot through the air from somewhere behind me hitting the leading stormtrooper square in the chest. As he crashed to the ground the other troopers scattered for cover, a good idea and one which I was quick to follow. Diving behind some cargo crates I looked around for the stormtroopers assailant. Again I saw nobody but had to keep my head down as the air filled with energy bolts flying in both directions around me. I stayed behind the crates for what seemed like an eternity when suddenly, as quickly as they had started, the shots ceased. I slowly rose to see what had happened. The stormtroopers had gone.

"How's it going Big shot?" a voice asked from behind me. I turned and looked straight into the smiling face of a tall heavy set man. Lorean De was a bounty hunter from the Kashyyyk system, and a damn good one too. I'd once seen him wrestle a wanted wookie to the ground and slap gravity cuffs on him in the process. That is no mean feat for a human.

The sound of blaster fire rang out again but this time it seemed to come from a hanger a few bays away. It was quickly drowned out by a deafening roar as a correlian freighter rose above the hanger bays and quickly climbed through the tattoine atmosphere. Lorean and I watched as it streaked into the sky but had to cover our eyes to avoid the glare of the planets twin suns which blazed directly overhead. I turned to Lorean and opened my mouth to thank him when the butt of his pistol struck me in the right temple.

When I awoke I found myself in a small dimly lit room. My head was pounding, partly from Loreans’ fist and partly from the whiskey. It was difficult at first to focus on my surroundings, but semi-conscious or not I knew a cell when I was in one.

A small bed with sheets that looked and smelled like they hadn’t been washed in weeks sat in a corner with nothing else other than a toilet, a small sink and a tiny portal looking out at the stars. I was on a ship, but belonging to who? Greedos’ weapon had been taken along with my watch and wallet. What the hell was going on? Why had Lorean helped me escape the stormtroopers only to hit me and why had he imprisoned me? My mind reeled with different possibilities but none of them seemed to make sense. Lorean wasn’t exactly my best friend but we had never crossed words and I had thought we had a mutual respect for each other. Judging by the swelling on the side of my face, I had been mistaken.

After a few hours a small hatch hissed open on the bottom of the cells door through which a tray of food and drink was pushed. The hatch quickly shut again as I retrieved what might be the only food I would get for some time. I didn’t know who my captor or captors were but they knew how to cook. I had not eaten a meal as tasty as this since I had lived at home with my parents.

That was the first time in months that the thought of my parents had even crossed my mind. It struck me that a lecture from my father about my conduct would be a far more enjoyable thing than my current predicament and longed to hear the sweet voice of my mother telling me how much she had missed me.

Over the coming weeks of captivity these thoughts became an obsession as I did nothing but think about how I had come to be in this mess, how low I had sunk and what scum I had become. My father had always told me to look after those who could not look after themselves. Instead the only person that I had ever looked after was myself. My parents had loved me and done everything they could to help me become a great man, and I had repaid them with nothing but sorrow and heartache.

I awoke to the sound of a man screaming. It was a sound I had heard many times during my captivity and one that chilled the blood every time. As it had in the past, this sound was soon muffled and then stopped altogether. What had they done to the poor wretch? Minutes later, to my horror, I found out as the frozen corpse of a man bloodied and bruised, floated past the portal. His face was frozen with a look of sheer terror. His lifeless eyes seemingly locked onto mine as he passed into the endless reaches of space.

Thoughts of my parents slammed into my head as a wave of remorse suddenly washed over me. All I could think of was that I had let them down so badly and now it was beginning to look as though I would never get the chance to make amends. My cell door hissed open and two Gamorreans ushered me out into a corridor.

“What’s going on?” I asked “Where are you taking me?”

The guards said nothing but pushed me hard in the back towards an airlock.

“No. Why are you doing this?”

I was terrified. A vision of the floating corpse entered my mind, only this time it’s face was mine.

The inner airlock door opened and the guards ushered me inside. I struggled for my life but the two Gamorrean guards were just too strong for me in my weakened condition. My head struck the floor as I tumbled into the airlock. The inner door closed with a hiss. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the explosion that would propel me into the great vacuum of space. My parents faces appeared vividly in my mind and I felt tears welling in my eyes as I heard myself saying over and over “I’m sorry.”

The outer airlock door hissed open. I grimaced, my body becoming tense as I awaited deaths cold embrace, but felt nothing. No explosion. No pain. Nothing.

After a few seconds I realised that somehow my life would not end now. Somehow I would not die. Not yet, anyway. As I opened my eyes I peered through the open airlock door to see the interior of a small ship. It was a small remotely piloted shuttle normally used only for transporting cargo containers. This one had been modified with a life support system, temperature controls, seating for one person with a restraining belt and a small hyperdrive unit. The tiny craft had no windows. Why put a window in a craft that had no pilot? I figured. I stepped carefully into the shuttle and sat down. I had no idea where I would be going but anywhere had to be better than staying in the airlock.

As I sat down and fitted the restraining belt across my chest the door slid shut and I felt the inertia of small booster rockets propel the small craft away from the airlock. The artificial gravity of my captors ship fell away and only the restraing belt stopped me from floating around the interior of the small craft. After a few minutes the ship lurched and my stomach seemed to turnover. A familiar feeling for anyone who has had the experience of a sudden jump into hyperspace on a ship with no gravity.

Who were my captors and why had I not suffered the same fate as the poor soul I had seen through the portal of my cell? Where were they sending me now? They obviously had no intentions of harming me. If they had wanted me dead I would be floating into eternity by now. Wherever I was going I would greet whoever opened the door with the sight of a haggard man unshaven for many weeks and who not having had a wash in all that time smelled like bantha fodder.

About an hour later the ship lurched again as it dropped into subspace and minutes later the effect of natural gravity slowly took a grip on my body. I was obviously nearing the end of my journey as the craft was cutting its way through the atmosphere of a planet. It must have been about fifteen minutes later when the crafts door slowly lifted and I felt natural air invade my lungs for the first time in weeks. Looking out of the hatch I saw a huge city full of skyscrapers. The air was full of motion as transports flew back and fore. The sky was dark and the streets lit with street lamps. A squad of stormtroopers waited for me to step out of the shuttle, their weapons trained on me. I knew this place. I had never been here before but had seen it many times in books and holomovies. I now stood on Coruscant the imperial homeworld.

I was taken to a holding cell in the city’s correctional facilities and told that I would face charges for the murder of Greedo, resisting arrest and the killing of an imperial officer. Although I protested my innocence no-one would listen to me. I was told that the court had appointed a defence lawyer for me, who would take any statements I had to make within the hour. I sat in the holding cell contemplating my fate. Murderers were usually sent to places like the spice mines of Kessel for life but killing an imperial officer would almost certainly incur the death penalty.

About half an hour later the door to my cell opened and two imperial guards escorted my defence lawyer in. My Mother wore a traditional Osarian dress coloured in reds and golds her long ebony coloured hair hanging loosely around the shoulders framing her serene face. She looked every bit as regal as I remembered her.

The two guards left the cell at my mothers’ request. She then told me everything that she knew. Six weeks earlier my parents had received a holomessage from a man telling them that I had been kidnapped and that If they ever wanted to see their son again they had better comply with his demands. Fifty thousand imperial credits had to be transferred into an off world bank account and if my parents told anyone of the deal I would be a dead man. No name was given but my father used his contacts to trace the account to a man known for his involvement in a criminal outfit known as the Black Sun.

This organisation was feared throughout the galaxy as being a most violent and deadly band of people. My parents knew that any deception on their part would almost certainly result in my untimely demise. Feeling they had no other option they had secretly paid the ransom only to be told that I was being handed over to the Empire who had named me as the prime suspect for two killings on Tatooine. Hearing this, my mother, who through her job knew how to play the legal system had insisted on being allowed to represent me in court. The only evidence to support the empires’ case was Greedos’ blaster (which had conveniently been recovered by the Empire) with my fingerprints all over it. Circumstantial evidence at best.

My mother had demanded and been allowed to speak to the stormtroopers present at the shootout on tatooine. On interrogation one of them had let slip that I had never drawn a weapon. My mother warned me that although my defence was strong the Empire would not want to lose face and that I would probably still face a heavy fine. At least I would not face a firing squad.

The next day I faced the court. On hearing the evidence the court found me guilty of failing to report a murder and resisting arrest. Then came the hammer blow. I would be sentenced to a fine of two hundred and fifty thousand imperial credits and AN ENFORCED FIVE YEAR TOUR OF DUTY IN THE IMPERIAL NAVY. My mother almost fell off her chair. This was unheard of. She tried to launch an appeal but to no avail. The Empire was still smarting from the loss of some battle station it called the Death Star on the day after my ill fated tatooine trip. I tried to reassure my mother that I did not mind. In fact I would use the opportunity to make a fresh start.

That is exactly what I did. I spent the next two years in the military academy where I would graduate top of my class. I was a model cadet, attentive and fastidious. I was determined to make my parents proud of the law abiding man I had become. I would regularly take shore leave on my homeworld and could not understand my Fathers apprehension at the career that I now lived for.

At my graduation ceremony I took the oath to uphold the Emperors Law and serve the Galactic Empire. I was then awarded my first post upon the star destroyer Avenger under the command of Captain Needa. This was indeed an honour as the ‘Avenger’ had been selected by Lord Vader himself to serve in his personal ‘Death Squadron’.

When I had settled in to my quarters I tried to send a holomessage to my parents but could not seem to get through. I tried many times over the next few days but kept getting no response from my families home. After numerous failed attempts to contact my parents I spoke to my C.O. asking him to look into the problem as I was starting to worry for my families safety and was assured that every attempt would be made to find out what had become of my parents. He returned the following day to tell me that my parents were alive and well. They had taken an impromptu holiday for the first time in years. I thought it strange that they had not contacted me before hand, but accepted what he told me.

Two weeks later my collegues and I would see action for the first time. The rebellion had been located on the frozen planet of Hoth. The fleet was to drop from hyperspace some distance away from the planet and launch squadrons of TIE Bombers who would bombard the planets surface destroying the rebel base. A ground assault would then be launched to round up any surviving rebel soldiers and stop them from escaping. The battle would be swift and spell the end of the rebellion.

Excited at the prospect of battle I tried once again to contact my parents and tell them of the good news. I would help to restore order to the galaxy by being involved in the extermination of this lawless band of rebels.

That’s when my world fell apart.

My holomessage was answered by a young woman who I immediately recognised as being one of the servants of my families home. She told me that my parents were dead. In order to finance the building of a second Death Star the Empire had ordered an audit into the finances of all high ranking officials on various planets throughout the galaxy. A large monetary transaction from my parents to an offworld bank account had been discovered. On further investigation a link had been made from my parents to the Black Sun. My parents had been named as terrorist sympathisers and a squad of stormtroopers had been ordered to my family home with a warrant for their arrest.

A stormtrooper had placed his hand on my fathers shoulder to restrain him while gravity cuffs were fitted around his wrists. My father had pulled away saying that there would be no need for restraints, they would cooperate without resistance. The trooper pushed my father to the floor causing my mother to go berserk. She jumped on to the back of one of the guards and was immediately thrown to the floor. My father rose to protest and was quickly cut down by a barrage of blaster bolts. My mother was incarcerated and within hours had appeared before a court.

Justice is swift in the Empire. My mothers’ case was heard and tried within an hour, giving no time for a defence to be raised. Sentenced to the death penalty for treason my mother had been executed by firing squad the next day. All this had taken place two weeks earlier. My head reeled. My parents were dead, murdered by the people I now served. The guilt I felt was overwhelming. My parents were guilty of one crime only, loving their only child. They had paid a ransom to preserve my life and it had led to them being labelled criminals and executed.

The Empire had taken the lives of my parents and nobody had contacted me to tell me, in fact my CO had lied to me about their whereabouts. I wanted answers. Storming onto the bridge, I let fly a barrage of abuse at my CO. I was quickly approached by four guards. They could have sent twenty, nothing would stop me demanding an audience with Captain Needa. The guards picked themselves up for another attempt at restraining me and at that moment Captain Needa strode onto the bridge, “STOP” he shouted. At once everybody was still.

“YOU” he said pointing directly at me, “I will see you in my quarters NOW”.

I followed him off the bridge and when we arrived at his room he told me in no uncertain terms that the only reason I would not face a court marshall for my actions, was that he had heard of my parents death and realised that I was in pain. He told me that he would make sure that a full investigation would be made into the events at my parents home and gave me his word that if any wrong had been done, the perpetrators would be dealt with severely. He would make sure that justice was served but right now we were about to fly into battle and it would have to wait until we had dealt with the rebel infestation of the planet Hoth. He told me to take my anger out on the rebels when the battle began. I asked to be allowed to take part in the ground assault but was told that I would be the sole pilot of a gunboat. My job would be to intercept any rebel ships trying to escape the Hoth system. I would destroy all ships taking no prisoners.

Captain Needa was good at his job. He had managed not only to calm me down but convinced me to fight for the Empire after what they had done to my parents. I still can’t believe he did it, even now.

Just a few hours later the fleet emerged from hyperspace in the Hoth system. Unfortunately our close proximity to the planet meant that the rebels were warned of our presence. By the time the bombers had been launched a shield had been raised protecting their base from the oncoming aerial bombardment. Now an all out ground assault would have to be launched which would prove costly in both lives and money.

Cursing my luck I sat in the cockpit of my Gunboat waiting for the first of the rebel craft that would try to escape their doom. My thoughts wandered back to my parents and of the injustice that had happened. My fathers voice was as real as if he were sitting next to me. “Protect the innocent. Help those who can not help themselves.” I was still angry and found myself talking back as though my parents could hear me. “It didn’t do you any good did it.?”

A green blip appeared on my forward scanner. I quickly locked sensors on the blip to find it was a large rebel transporter. Those on board would be the first victims of my wrath. Locking on to the transporter I switched my torpedo’s to linked.

As I waited for the cross hairs on my HUD to turn red my fathers voice came to me again, only this time, somehow, it seemed crystal clear as though it could only be supernatural in origin. “Protect the innocent. Help those who can not help themselves.”

Looking down at my sensors again I noticed that the transporter was carrying civilians. Of course, the troops would be down on the planet surface engaged in a bloody ground war. These weren’t soldiers. As it was the first transporter trying to escape, the civilians were probably women and children. The transporter had no weapons and only modest shields that would not withstand my attack. They were sitting ducks.

“Protect the innocent. Help those who can not help themselves.” My fathers voiced boomed, and suddenly it hit me. I was fighting for the wrong side. Why kill civilians to avenge my fathers death. If I was to kill anyone it would be those who had been responsible. Those like my C.O. An insane notion entered my head. I would give my life to save these people.

Firing up my thrusters I altered my course and headed towards the Avenger. Switching my shield to full forward I lined my ship up and flew directly towards the bridge. Turbo lasers suddenly started spewing bolts of energy at me in an attempt to stop my head on collision course. Jinking back and forth I avoided the lasers and stayed on course. The Avenger started moving slowly in an arc across the sky in front of me, trying to take evasive action and fell straight into the path of a huge blast of Ion energy which had erupted from the planets surface. So the rebels had an Ion canon, that might help the situation. The first transorter shot past and headed into hyperspace. They were away.

With the Avenger floating helplessly in space, disabled by the Ion blast, I altered course again and headed for the nearest star destroyer. Targeting its shield generators, I let two missiles fly at each. The missiles made direct hits but the shields did not fall. Again I targeted the shield generator and was just about to let loose two more missiles when three tie interceptors cut directly in front of me aiming their laser blasts directly at my hull.

Sparks showered around my cockpit and I prepared myself for the end, when from out of nowhere an X-wing appeared rapidly taking out all three Tie’s. I felt sure I would be its next victim but instead the craft pulled alongside my gunboat. The rebel pilot inside saluted me and gestured for me to follow him. I locked my sensors on to him and plotted his trajectory as he shot into hyperspace. I could only identify one system on that heading so set a course and jumped.

On dropping out of hyperspace I found myself surrounded by rebel transporters. How many had escaped during my battle with the star destroyers? Many, it seemed. I was directed to one of the hangers of the frigate Redemption. This is where I would make my fresh start, and what better name for my new home ‘Redemption’.

So that’s how I came to be a member of the rebellion. I have been here for some time now working as a mechanic on the Redemption, but a few weeks ago joined the Rebel Squadrons. I have already been promoted to 2nd Lieutenant and am about to enrol in the academy.

I often think back of my adventures, (of which there have been many) and although I feel like I have reached closure over my parents death, two things still remain unanswered.

Who killed my friend Greedo? Whoever he was, he got me into one hell of a lot of trouble. I owe him one and if I ever find out who he was, well let’s just say he’s going to be sorry,

and

Who flew that corellion freighter out of Mos Eisley. That was the best bit of flying I have ever seen and that pilot drew away the stormtroopers that were after me. If I find out who he was, I’m going to buy that man a few Alderian whiskeys. I’m sure we would have a few tales to tell.

Since arriving on the Redemption I'vs started learning how to wield a light sabre and even though I'm getting on a bit, hope to join the academy. Maybe I'll see you there.

Until then…

Good luck in your battles.

2LT Gunsmoke