<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/hjRpGNg.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><strong>Character Name:</strong> Kain Staylar<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Briefing Room &gt; Workbench <br/><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br/><strong>Mentioned:</strong> N/A<br/><strong>Actions (Combat only)</strong>:<br/><strong>NSFW Warning:</strong> N/A</span><br/><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> Kain had found his usual spot in the briefing room, his feet propped up as he finished off his Bantha Platter and Blue Milk. "Careful, boss," he'd spoken up after gulping down the last of his milk. "They might already know. Just haven't made a move yet. <br/><br/>You'd be surprised how many mouths get a say on what gets done as long as Vader and the Emperor don't give too much of a womprat's ass about it. And the Frontier doesn't have enough Holocron's to satisfy their twisted little curiosities." Kain, having once been an <em>Imp</em> himself(however unwilling), knew how sneaky the Juggernaut calling itself a galactic empire could be. Overwhelming might didn't mean you did away with the sneakiness and underhanded tactics. It just meant you had enough manpower to cover it up most of the time with shows of force elsewhere.<br/><br/> He had no solid questions, as he was confident their ragtag little band of rebels could handle it. So when the meeting adjourned, he took his tray and cup to the sink, then headed to a workbench to run a diagnostic on himself. He wanted to be in top shape for the op and make sure all his systems were green. Even after all this time, it felt weird to attach himself to a computer. But after running several scans, he confirmed that everything was 100%, so the only thing left was to check his ship and his guns. So he went to do just that. <br/><br/></span>