VE - Imperial Center Staff
VE - Stormtrooper Corps
June 7, 2009
December 22, 2016 at
|Number of Posts:
||TRP/SGT Jamasis/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE [ESC09] [BoT]
Home world: Bothawui
Native Language: Basic
Skin Colour: Lightly tanned
Hair Colour: Blond/light brown
Facial Hair: None
Eye Colour: Blue
== Background History ==
Several years before birth
The battle of Bothawui, a notable event in the clone wars, devastated the planet. Although the fight was generally in the skies and space around, many ships from both sides crashed into the cities, creating ruins. Weapons on board tended to explode, but some smaller arms were salvaged and used by criminals, generally destabilising life. Many small settlements were totally annihilated, the survivors moved into the cities. The richer members of society adapted quickly. They rebuilt, the government rebuilt as well. However a large amount of the population were still effected, loved ones lost, homes damaged, or simply the overall damage. Jobs were less available and Bothawui became a place of two parts. The rich and politically known, they were fine and growing in influence. The poorest of the poor; many of them wanted fewer jobs, many of them had much less. Beggars increased. Crime increased. The only things that decreased were the price of alcohol and narcotics. This improved, perhaps, in Jamasis' youth, but if it did he didn't notice.
Jamasis has little memories of his first few years. He thinks he remembers his mother, vaguely. He knows for certain that she was kind to him. Later, when he understood more, he found she must have been key to his father's happiness. His father was happy, at that time. Not the best man in the world, but he had a job, if not well paid, he brought back food and he treated Jamasis almost as well as his mother. At least that's how Jamasis thinks it went. That part of his life was preciously short.
One day his mother went out. His father came back several times in the next few days without her. He didn't speak, just fed Jamasis, made sure everything was okay, then left again. After a while, his father came back, staggering in through the front door. He was (though of course the four year old didn't know this) completely drunk. He was sobbing, and spent the next two days drinking and shouting at Jamasis. Some days later, he was sober enough to mumble about his wife, Jamasis' mother, having died of some disease. As the years passed he discovered it had been some kind of native virus. He also found out that his father blamed him for the death.
He was beaten every other day, whenever his father was sober enough to do it, or so drunk he didn't care anymore. His dad lost his job. Food became irregular. Alcohol was everywhere in the house, as was the distinct smell of ciggarette smoke. Things got worse, more jobs were lost, his father grew angrier at Jamasis for anything that went wrong. Eventually Jamasis couldn't stand it any more. He hadn't been outside too much, at best he had had irregular schooling for a short time. His father had decided he was worthless every other week and eventually stopped him going. But one night when he was lying awake from hunger, he decided to leave. It wasn't difficult. The clothes he was wearing. A couple of others. Some food was taken from the kitchen. Then he left. At the age of twelve, he simply walked out.
Of course after a few days the food wasn't enough. He had to find something, some way of living. He tried begging, took any small amounts of credits people dropped. It wasn't enough to live off though, that was clear. About two or three weeks after leaving home, Jamasis was begging outside a cornershop. As would be expected, a trio of older street kids found him. The confrontation went predictably, with Jamasis lying on the floor with his own blood on him. And, for that matter, some of their blood on him. The beatings from his father had toughened him up in a way. He could definitely take a punch. Any other day and he would have died quickly. The trio had taken his little food, his few credits. His water. But as luck would have it, the shop he was begging outside of had an elderly owner, one who had seen this scene enough times, and one who knew he could do with some help. So Jamasis was taken inside, still unconcious, and laid down in the back of the shop.
When he woke up, he felt awful. But for the first time in eight years, he had a proper full meal. He got his cuts and bruises looked at, and in the world Jamasis had known so far this was incredible. The only person to treat him this well before had been his mother. It didn't take a genius to work out that in this world, full of abuse and people ready to bring you down, even kill you, that good friends and benefactors were rare; and that holding onto them would be a good idea. Jamasis developed a sense of loyalty as he helped this old man running his shop. What exactly he sold, Jamasis never really worked out. He remembered that it wasn't just one thing. He also remembered the police, when they visited, didn't tend to open anything. They just took their change and left. The customers generally looked roughened up, and Jamasis simply went about his work fetching and carrying unmarked, boxed merchandise. He worked at the counter a lot of the time. The eldely man tended to work on the actual merchandise; most of the accounts, taxes and suchlike were left to Jamasis. This rapidly improved his sketchy reading and writing. It also became dull, but he rewarded his employers continued food and hospitality with his loyalty.
One day, when Jamasis was fourteen, a small group of large, thuggish and generally menacing people walked in. There were four of them, and one walked straight upto the counter while the others spread around the shop.
"I want to talk to your employer, boy," he said. Jamasis hurriedly fetched the old man, and was dismissed. Listening from a short way away, he could hear quiet arguement. The thug seemed to be working for someone else, who in turn seemed to be unhappy with the shopkeeper. Something about undelivered goods.
"Jamasis, come back in here!" the shopkeeper shouted, and Jamasis waited for a few seconds before walking out into the room.
"This man," said the shopkeeper, "Is from a certain, important, customer of mine. He feels I've scammed him because I didn't deliver enough 'merchandise' on time. He wants the goods, now, for no extra charge, or to be paid back his deposit. Do we have the money?" he asked hopefully.
"Most of the money is in the stock at any time. Right now, most of the stock is still being brought to us, so unless it was a small order then no."
The man sighed, then turned to the thug. "Well, you heard him."
"So, you know what happens now. We stop buying, we trash this place regularly, or you pay us now."
"We don't have the mon-"
"Give us the boy."
"The boy is suitable payment."
The shopkeeper sighed, nodded, and gestured for Jamasis to follow the men.
Jamasis didn't see the old man again. When being called payment he had been worried about what they had in mind; his suspicions turned out to be right, they were part of a criminal organisation. It didn't have a name, it just was. The leader turned out to be a human, Kasper Jonasson. Jamasis only saw him occassionally, and he didn't seem to notice Jamasis. Jamasis' work didn't seem to be too different. In general his job was too be a general errand boy. Usually he had to make deliveries, goods and messages, but also got involved with collecting "insurance" and later on being trusted with making bussiness deals. He wasn't bothered about his employer's legality; he had suspected the old man didn't exactly have flowers in his unmarked boxes, but he was concious of the world he was in. One thing that grew from this period was his distrust of bothans. Most of the criminals were human, some Bothan, and some other species. Bu the bothan's were the ones you watched, always involved in schemes and powerplays; none dared to go for the top, but there was always some turmoil, and some casualties. Being quick to learn, and distrustful of anything a bothan said were two skills that Jamasis found invaluable.
By the age of sixteen, the thugs had taken notice of him. His beatings by his father had removed all real worries of being hit, and he could take plenty of punches of any one of them. They got him fighting, sparring in a way, with them. Teaching him how to hit best. It turned out a punches power wasn't in your arm, but your waist. Having big arms only helped. Jamasis became quite good at beating people up with his fists, knocking them out or hurting them just the amount he wanted. He started to go on assignments to beat people up, sometimes solo, sometimes in a group. This brought him some respect, and more attention. He was able to watch his back, and learn't about a wider range of things. Basic speeder piloting, basic fighter piloting, how to bribe people seamlessly.
Of course the next development was almost obvious, given his age. Not yet seventeen, he was of course interested in girls. He saw quite a lot when he was out and about, but none interested him particularly. He knew about prostitutes and suchlike, but still did not really understand the enjoyment. Well, he understood it very well, but it was still lacking. Of course luck being what it was, and Jamasis having extreme bad and good luck over the years faced it again. She was definitely stunning. And clever, beatiful and so forth. She was also the boss's niece who he had practically taken as a daughter. Of course this didn't present too many problems. The attraction was mutual, and they were more than able to meet away from her uncle and any of his employees. Just it was inconvenient, and Jamasis knew that problems would arise. It didn't bother him; he was happy with how it was.
Just before reaching eighteen, a year after his relationship started, the inevitable happened. They were found by one of Kasper's informants, and when he got back to their criminal world he was grabbed by two thugs. The boss's niece was of course left alone. She clearly tried to talk to her uncle, but he was enraged. After yelling at Jamasis for twenty odd minutes in front of an audience, he ordered him to be shot. Of course being one of the more impressive thugs, and generally intelligent, Jamasis saw a personal problem with dying. As he was being taken outside, he body slammed one of his captors into a wall, and punched the other straight in the face, breaking his nose. His knuckles had blood on them, and he quickly punched the first thug until he was unconcious, then knocked out the injured one. He ran from the building, found a nearby speeder and forced the owner to give him the keys. He quickly told him to find it at the spaceport, through him a handful of credits, then sped away. He knew that Kasper's organisation had contacts and allies throughout NR territory, and they were interested in the larger imperial remnants. They had no presence in the outer rim, especially nearer the unknown regions.
Jamasis used what few credits he had (and could steal quickly) to buy passage on a freighter. It made routine stops along the way, but they seemed too close for his liking. Eventually they reached Vast Empire space, one of the areas Jamasis had particularly considered when travelling. In particular it had a military that wanted almost any recruit it could find; and Jamasis was more than suited to fighting. In particular, he hoped, he could do well through his luck, some thug-training, and the fact that however crap training and the army were; how could it be worse than his father, how could it be worse than a mob execution?
== Character's Personality ==
Jamasis is, to be frank, a survivor. He perseveres and can take hardships over long periods. He is not particularly emotional, being generally calm but determined. He is motivated and wants to move up in society, and is unscrupulous but loyal to any benefactors. He is intelligent, learns quickly and his whole personality has been built up around surviving on the streets and in some of the worst situations possible.
Assigned to Paladin squad- 13/6/09
Transferred to Wraith squad- 6/9/09
Promoted to Private First Class- 7/9/09
Promoted to Lance Corporal- 15/6/10
Promoted to Assistant squad leader- Unknown
Promoted to Corporal- 3/10/10
Returned to Trooper- 7/10/10
Promoted to Sergeant- 30/1/11
[ESC09] [BoT] [SoC] (3.1)