The GNS once again changes to reveal a man wearing dark, reflective sunglasses. His demenor is calm and emotionless...his blonde hair that extends down barely to the top of his shoulders frames his stony face. Hints of scarring from, perhaps a razor, play at his neck and throat. He wears a black, sleeveless tank top, and athletic pants. The man smirks, gazing into the camera for a while longer, before beginning.

"My name is Eric Taylor Jackson..." he says quietly, pronouncing his full name carefully. "Of the planet Kuat. Last surviving member of my clan...and a freelancer."

Eric shrugs, and continues, "I'm going to keep this brief. I support the Brotherhood of the Sand...with my entire being. It pains me that I cannot count myself among them...but I will support their every move, so long as it coincides with their mission.

"For too long the Jedi have been taunted by their foes and allies. Ridiculed for their reluctance to act, then criticized when they DO act. For too long have I watched this go on. And it pleases me greatly that there are some who have finally chosen to take their stands. Finally decided that, to hell with the perception of rules...if something needs to be done, then it will be done. If a wrong needs to be made right, it will be made right. Just as the XIIS did back in the day..." Eric is obviously talking about something that has no meaning to any other then himself, "...the Brotherhood of the Sand does now."

"I think I lied about it being brief, but I had to say something halfway cool and mysterious. Good for the image." He grinned. "Jack out." are his last words before the image abruptly cuts out.