Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26163219-20160214163344/@comment-26191607-20160311145007

Lieutenant Colonel Scythe Sasin sighed as he runs out the back of the transport ship he hitched a ride on. His father's old trooper armor, from the old-republic's havoc squad, thumps with each stride, he finds the predetermined room and enters.

"Pardon me." He says, removing his helmet, the angry red scar that was from his right temple to his right cheek protested as he opened his right eye, the scar going over that as well. "Sorry I'm late Madam Organa, transport got held up." He sets his helmet down on the table.