Post by Reisier on Sept 12, 2012 23:27:50 GMT -5
Name: Amaris Sataj
Age: 27
Race: Zelosian
Birth place: Kryndyn, Zelos II
Height: 5’5’’
Weight: 128
Eye Color: Vibrant green
Hair Color: Auburn
Katarina du Couteau | Zerochan
Appearance: The air is stagnant in the Drunken Drummer, hazy and gray with the remnants of cigarra smoke floating through the air. Loud, drunken voices fill the air – the clinking of glasses against the wooden counter and moving chairs are common as well. Most of the figures are well known in this slum of a place -- infamous in the belly of the galaxy. Most seem unapproachable, characters you would not want to meet in a deserted alley at night. Unlike most of the characters that visit this god forsaken place, Amaris Sataj comes off as a sight for sore eyes.
A delicate figure greets the eyes, shy curves noticeable beneath the cool touch of sheer fabric. Often times she tilts her head, allowing curious onlookers to glance at an exquisite, long neck. Her features are soft, slightly round, youthful, by the definition of most; however, the woman's features are often disrupted, wide almond eyes narrowed as she processes a thought, or full lips bitten when she finds herself distressed. Amaris is quite expressive, none will deny, letting people know exactly what's going on through her mind. Aside from her curious expressions, she is quite pretty, most will admit, a woman graced with delicate features and generous, full lips. If one were to sacrifice their time to further examine the woman, they would notice her eyes -- vibrantly green with a mischievous gleam set between high cheekbones and slightly arched brows. A Zelonian trademark she has come to embrace, Amaris' eyes are unusual, deep and tantalizing, capturing the attention of most.
As tantalizing as her eyes can be, all possibility of peace is torn away from them, disrupted with a single scar. Running vertically across her left eye, Amaris’ scar serves as a reminder of how she first got involved in the smuggling world. This discrepancy doesn’t particularly bother her, often boasting that it gives her character. If one is able to tear away their attention from the emerald orbs, the next thing that will be noticed from Amaris is her hair. Wild and unruly, the silky spread of layered auburn hair resembles her personality in many ways. If left to its own devices, Amaris’ hair does as it pleases, when it pleases – when Amaris does attempt to tame it, the woman only succeeds if she were to pull it back into a ponytail or a messy bun of sorts.
Weathered beige cigarette pants, secured with an equally tattered belt start off her outfit -- an ensemble that lacks any particularly extraordinary features. For the most part they seem like an after-thought, sitting lazily at her hips, the only particular feature that one would notice being the holster secured on her right leg. The shirts vary from place to place, using whatever she deems appropriate for the weather; yet, for the most part, Amaris will be seen sporting a light linen shirt with a deeply scooped neck. Light and comfortable, she often describes it, allowing her as much mobility as possible. On top of the shirt, protecting her from harsh climate conditions sits a weathered aviator jacket that has been far better days. Belted brown boots dangle from her feet and a pair of cut-off gloves protects her hands. While most of her outfit has suffered the passing of the years, the one thing Amaris carries with her and is still pristine, is a dainty, little necklace given to her long ago.
Personality: Amaris Sataj sticks out like a sore thumb. The woman is anything but typical, from her attire to her appearance, to the way she furrows her brow in deep thought, there are few things about Amaris that can be ignored. From a warm, gregarious soul, to a mischievous sprite with spit-fire replies; Amaris is spirited, truly passionate – someone who envelopes herself fully in whatever she does. Generally speaking, Amaris comes off as cunning; devious smiles and artful glances exchanged behind the security of heavy lashes most often make Amaris appear as if she knows more than what she is letting go. Yet, if one were to talk to the Zelosian, a laid-back, well-disposed character begins to appear. Amaris is capable of giving gentle smiles and soft words when needed as well as stern look and reprimand when required. It is not unusual to see close friends of the woman coming to her whenever they have a problem, knowing well enough that they will meet nothing else but sincerity and genuine concern.
Though Amaris is friendly without a doubt, she sometimes has the nasty habit of rubbing people the wrong way: Amaris is a smart-ass. Snarky comebacks and spitfire replies dance off her tongue just as easily as a smile dances across her lips. Generally the woman means no spite and seems to regress to this behavior most frequently when she feels distressed – a safety mechanism that seems to get her in more trouble than anything else. Combining her piercing words with her apparent overconfidence, Amaris sometimes comes off as impulsive and arrogant; however, Amaris is both extremely smart and competent and willingly acknowledges when she has gone too far.
Profession: Smuggler
Skills: Marksmanship | Piloting | Agile
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 4
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 6
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 4
Melee Weapons: 3
Ranged Weapons: 6
Ship Name: DECIPIO
Bio:
Catalina Laitila was beautiful by the standards of most, a bright, eager young woman who sought nothing more in life but to have her dream come true. Those who knew her described the woman as wholesome and sweet – with the tendency of placing others before her own well-being. It was troubling at times, especially for her family, who feared that the woman often took rash decisions that could quite possibly endanger her. But life was good to Catalina, kept her safe from harm, and when time finally came for her to move on to college, her parents felt a certain relief in their hearts. It was there that she met him, a quiet, handsome young man, with dark olive skin and a charming smile. His name was Navid Sataj, a second year business student; one sought great things for the future.
Navid thought that Catalina was the most divine being that the Galaxy had been graced to meet – it was love at first sight, destiny. Call it what you will, but could deny that once Navid and Catalina met each other something had ‘clicked.’ Affectionate terms of endearment were often coined by friends to label their love, but it wasn’t necessarily one or the other. They found each other – fell in love faster than most. It was simple. After a short courtship and after a year of dating, the two were soon engaged. This is what they wanted to do, there were no regrets.
Marriage life suited the young businessman and his wife, they made the perfect couple as far as eyes could see. Two years after their marriage, as they found themselves in their mid-twenties, they began to contemplate the idea of a child – the perfect gift that would solidify everything they felt for each other. But while their life had been rewarding to them, when it came time to have a child, fate was less kind. The years went by and the couple began to get worried. They had hoped for many years to have a family of their own, but as the months passed in vain, their hearts began to sink. Something was wrong, there was no child coming. Were they incapable? Unlucky? Or a sign that it was never meant to be? The couple never spoke a word of this to one another, but their feelings were clear – they were becoming discouraged, giving up on the idea altogether. The devastation felt began to take a toll on the once happy couple; what had once been a blissful marriage was now replaced by a gap, one that could not be filled.
Navid drowned himself in work, the company he had been working on capturing all of his available time. Catalina, on the other hand, worked long hours in the clinic, spending as much time away from the house as possible. Friends and family of the couple were mortified, the once happy couple was deteriorating. It wasn’t as a result of lack of love, no, love existed bountifully; but, it almost seemed as if they were disappointed in themselves, thinking that they had let the other down.
It is strange how life works, however, how it suddenly takes you by the hand, guiding you, pulling you, doing whatever it pleases with you; life carries unexpected surprises and as Catalina turned twenty-eight that life came knocking. After years of trials and failures, Catalina and Navid Sataj were expecting. The pregnancy was uneventful for the young couple, filled with endless happiness and guesses of what the child would be. The months passed, and it was during an early summer that Catalina went into labor. The hours were long, passing by slower than Navid had hoped for. Finally, the doctor came out from the room -- it was a baby girl. Navid rushed to his wife's side and there he saw her -- as beautiful as ever, cradling a small bundle in her arms. The name was given, Amaris, ‘As god said,’ and so began the life of the wide-eyed girl.
Amaris was doted on and affectionately cared for during her infant and toddler years. She was a happy and lively child, one that played well with others and who was surprisingly reliant for a child her age. Amaris made friends like any other, chasing after her older cousins like a baby duckling. Her parents cherished her in turn, often mentioning just how lucky they were -- when they seemed unable to conceive, here came a miracle that had changed their lives.
But life can be a fickle mistress; while Catalina and Navid were convinced that no other child would come after Amaris, not two years later they were dotted with another gift, a set of triplets. In less than a year the family of three had doubled in size, the once quiet penthouse was now booming with noise. Peace was now rare, chaos becoming a daily sight in the household. Neither of the parents seemed to mind, enjoying the lively surroundings. There was never a dull moment, Amaris often recalls, ‘adventures’ a common mishap amongst the siblings. By the age of five, Amaris had embraced her role as an older sister to her parents' relief, the young girl playing with her younger siblings Nahlia, Edin, and Mareth. She tried to teach them, that is, as best as a child can teach another, showing them pictures she made, games to be played, and even showing them where her parents hid their gifts, much to her parents dismay.
It was not long after that Amaris turned six years old that she was enrolled in the Zelos Keystone Academy, a private academy that her father had been enrolled in when he was her age. The idea of school fascinated Amaris, bouncing up and down with delight, what adventures awaited her there?
To her peers and teachers Amaris came off as a vibrant girl, full of curiosity, and a certain hunger to make the best of her life. School life was fun to the young Zelosian, seeing it almost like an extension of her home. Friends were quickly made, sleepovers and parties becoming a normal part of Amaris’ weekends; but still she wanted to do more. It was a few months after she began first grade that Amaris found herself enrolled in low-g gymnastic classes, where she could let go of her boundless energy. While gymnastics helped release most of Amaris’ erratic behavior, her playfulness and overall friendliness never wavered.
When school and gymnastics were not entertaining the girl, she found herself at home, playing with her siblings and telling them what she had learned and what she had seen. For instance, did they know that in other planets, far away, children were able to eat sugar if they pleased? It wasn’t something only grown-ups could eat! Or the fact that there were people, very special out there, that could move things without touching them – they went to this special school, her teacher had said, a far place away. They were called Jadei, one of her classmates explained, they were ten feet tall and really strong. Quite frankly, Amaris was fascinated and her siblings were too. It soon became a daily habit for the four Sataj children to huddle together as Amaris came home from school, so their older sibling could illuminate them about the worlds that existed beyond Zelos II.
High school years came and went, Amaris enjoying them to a full extent. From family vacations they took, to spending time with her friends, there was nothing she did that she would regret.
It was in high school where Amaris first discovered her passion in books, delving into worlds very different from Zelos II. They were worlds full of mystery, romance, and passion. In more than one occasion Amaris found herself fantasizing about the books, becoming one with the rich, fulfilling characters and going off in adventures like no other. From classic books to beautiful poems, she was enthralled. Amaris recalls being teased in more than one occasion by her friends, calling her a hopeless romantic of sorts. Time after time, Amaris would shrug it off with a laugh; though, truth be told, she couldn’t agree more. If one had asked Amaris at time what she wanted to do with her life, leading a life of adventure would be the most likely response.
At seventeen, the business her father had invested himself fully in began to boom; there was no household in Kryndyn who didn’t know Sataj Delivery Services. The once dream her father had held close to his heart was now a full-fledged reality. Amaris was thrilled to see his dream come true, especially as she watched her parents look lovingly at each other – puppy love even after more than twenty years of marriage. It was perfect, their life was perfect. Amaris couldn’t ask for anything more.
But things never quite turn out as planned, do they?
It was supposed to be “the best year.” The year, she would never forget; quite frankly, she never will, but for very different reasons. It was three months into her senior year when it happened early one autumn morning. It was a Primeday, she had been studying late – had a test the very next day. The booming was so loud, deafening. Amaris barely remembers how the noise made her jump out of bed. She heard footsteps – heavy, loud, like a thick staccato resonating in the depths of her head. Amaris rushed to her bedroom door – she could hear her mother screaming, she was so confused. By the time Amaris tore the door open she saw them, they must have been about six, clad in black, blasters in hands. She could see her brothers frozen in the corner, unsure what to do, Nahlia was crying – she was terrified. They came out of her parent’s bedroom, Amaris could recognize them now, they were police officers. The second to the last man to come out looked disheveled, hair a mess, shirt torn open – Amaris nearly didn’t recognize him as her dad. She remembers moving after that, screaming on top of her lungs, trying to get the men away from her father; what right did they have? But she felt herself stopped, her mother holding unto her before she did anything stupid. She remembers her father faintly saying not to worry, that everything would be fine.
Pity. It was the first time he made a promise he couldn’t keep.
The next sequence of events came in a blur – her mother was grabbing her coat, telling Amaris that she would call. Nahlia still cried, Edin stood in horror, and Mareth had rushed to the bathroom, sick to his stomach. Amaris remembers that day as if it all occurred in slow motion; every detail, every expression seen, everything comes as clear to her as if happening before her very eyes. They didn’t speak much that day, save for half-hearted reassurances that everything would be fine. It was nearly twelve hours later that their mother finally called, Navid had been arrested, charged with several cases of racketeering, which, Amaris would later learn, included trafficking, bribery, frauds, weapon trafficking, and transportation and concealment of illegal substances.
From what Amaris learned, employees of her father, people she had known since she was very small, had been taking advantage of her father’s legitimate business as a front to smuggle illicit substances and weapons on the side. When the police figured what was going on, they became convinced that the owner himself, Navid Sataj was involved – the brains of the operation, they would later call. But the police had nothing on her father, Amaris recalls, so they offered an incentive to the employees – to sell the “mastermind” out for a reduced sentence. The police didn’t wait long. Felip Jonu, her father’s right hand man, gladly sold him out. While the evidence was mostly circumstantial, it was enough to take Navid on trial – and that very day they took him.
The trial was long, exhausting to tell the truth, taking Amaris attention away from friends and school. Her grades had begun to suffer, but the Zelosian didn’t care – all she wanted was her father to come home again. It wouldn’t happen though, something had always told Amaris so. Six months of trials later, her father was convicted, sentenced to fifteen years. They were crushed. Amaris had believed for so long that everything would be fine. She couldn’t really process what was happening in the court. Even as her father leaned over to kiss them goodbye, Amaris couldn’t believe it – she was deadpan.
After that, her mother was never the same – she lost her spark. The love of her life, Amaris would say, was taken away – in an instant everything had changed. Someone had taken her father’s dream and turned it against him. Amaris’ mother tried her best to make everything work under the circumstances, but they soon were forced to sell their home, move into a smaller apartment. As a result of the trial, Amaris had lost most of her friends, quite frankly, she didn’t even bother calling them that anymore. It seemed that when news came out of her father’s arrest, no one wanted to be associated with them anymore. It was strange, hurtful, but it didn’t bother her – it was their decision, she had no time to waste on them.
When Amaris once didn’t have to worry about jobs, just to concentrate in school, now everything seemed to revolve around money – making ends meet. Amaris got a part time job after school, working as a waitress at a local café. It was not a particularly well-paying job, but it helped them at times of need; she could buy food, necessities, make sure that her mother and siblings had all she could give. Long days at work were soon followed by late nights at home, cleaning, washing, doing homework, all for when her mother came back she didn’t have to worry about anything else.
Graduation day came faster than any of them could have expected; as the rhythm of this new life settled in, Amaris’ life was beginning to change. It was time to face the truth, face her dreams, and it all began with that little piece of paper.
Her mother and siblings were there to support her as she received her diploma, but part of Amaris felt – empty. As she watched her friends hug and kiss their parents, parents crying as pictures were shared, this past year had been hell. When this was supposed to be the year she would always remember, the one she would always look fondly on, Amaris felt torn, distressed. In that single year everything had been torn away from her, stripped her bare, left her and her family broken and alone. Amaris tried her very best to not let this affect her, to look unto the future with hopeful eyes, but it wasn’t enough.
That night, after returning to their apartment after a little celebration, Amaris found herself in the shower crying – the water drowning out any available noise. For the first time that year, for the first time since she saw her father off, Amaris cried. She cried about her father, about how she had lost her friends, about how her mother and her siblings were suffering, about how everything was coming undone. Sure they had each other, their love and support, but that day it just wasn’t enough. For the first time she was jealous of her peers and their parents, about how they didn’t have to go through this, about how they were happy and they weren’t. Amaris just wanted everything to go back to how it used to be.
After graduation, Amaris often contemplated on following her parents’ footsteps and setting off to college. She had the grades to do it, the desire to learn, and the support of her family. Actually, Amaris came pretty close to going as well; that is, until she woke up late one night and found her mother huddled in the kitchen table, calculating expenses and trying to figure out how exactly she was going to afford Amaris college. She knew her mother had talked about taking a second job, but Amaris never knew this was why – to get her to college. Amaris felt guilty, so ungrateful. That very night, standing behind her mother, Amaris decided that as long as she had wished for it, college life was not for her. Her siblings, her mom, they needed her help – it was her time to take charge now. The next day, Amaris approached her mother, told her the truth – she changed her mind, college was not what she needed to do; there was little that could be said to change Amaris’s mind.
Amaris took all her applications, letters, essays – all her work and sealed it away in a box. Every once in a while she thinks about that box, is it still sitting under her bed, gathering dust?
Amaris didn’t particularly regret not going to school; though she often wonders if she would have a job by now with a far better pay. It was hard getting a job in the beginning, especially when Amaris was competing with so many people that already had a degree. Amaris had to often settle for part-time jobs of seasonal jobs that didn’t pay well. It was frustrating. Finally, after a few months of searching, as Amaris reached twenty years of age, she heard of a place called Coronet City, found in the planet of Corellia. A crew was looking for a decent cook, someone to clean-up the ship as well. It was less than perfect, but the pay was better than all the places she had visited and, to be honest, the place was alluring. At the age of twenty, much to her mother’s dismay, Amaris said goodbye to her family and left to the far away planet.
Corellia itself wasn’t very different from Zelos II; it had a pleasant climate, vast mountain ranges and extensive forests. The people seemed nice as well, if a little guarded at first, but nothing that particularly bothered Amaris. Eventually, things would fall into place. In the next couple of days she called the export company, setting up an interview. Upon the first meeting, everything seemed, niceties were exchanged along a light-hearted joke. Part of Amaris was convinced she was getting the job; that is, until the man glanced over her resume. It was a strange sight, Amaris would admit, how quickly his expression soured, as if got a bad taste in his mouth. He called her an ‘ekster,’ a term she had never heard before, with that simple word she was told there was no job for her. Outsiders, Amaris would later learn, were looked with great disdain and cynicism by certain Corellian groups. They were not necessarily ‘evil people,’ as some coined; in fact, they could be some of the nicest people Amaris had met, that is, until they found they had an outsider in their hands. She couldn’t blame them, though. Some Corellians met outsiders with disdain for the same reason that some outsiders hated Corellians; and while it was definitely undeserved, it was what they had come to know.
Months passed and with them Amaris became more used to her new surroundings. Jobs were difficult to find, but not impossible. Odd jobs and seasonal jobs became part of Amaris repertoire, working from a sales representative, to a waitress, to mowing lawns, to washing landspeeders, there was almost nothing Amaris didn’t try. And every day after work, Amaris found herself looking, scouting for signs of a permanent job, all without hope; that is, until she came across the Typhoon.
It was not a glamorous job, nothing a twenty-one year old would ever want to be, but it paid well – far better than any other job she had seen – and it was honest, what else could she ask for? When Amaris first met the captain, an older Corellian man of sixty-five by the name of Jacobson, she was immediately taken back by his abrasive nature. He seemed to snarl as he spoke, incriminating stares shot at people behind a carefully turned-up nose. Jacobson scoffed as soon as he saw Amaris, calling her young, inexperienced, and stupid, that she knew next to nothing when it came to taking care of a ship. But Amaris was surprised when Jacobson told her to come early the next morning – he’d give her a week before she ran off. Jacobson was an intimidating man, Amaris often recalls with a grin, but he wasn’t mean; in fact, Jacobson could be almost sweet in his own, little way.
Amaris spent most of her time on her lonesome, cleaning and scrubbing from left to right, top to bottom; most of her interactions were reduced to Jacobson or his wife of forty-five years. But, she didn’t particularly mind, she enjoyed their company, and when she was, in fact, alone she occupied herself by humming or daydreaming about her home. One day, her quiet reverie was interrupted by a sight unlike any other. The man was huge. With a dark, fuzzy beard and equally dark eyes – but his most notable traits were his fiery red skin and pointed ears. Amaris must have looked quite surprised, she figures, since the Red Nebula male gave a toothy grin. His name was Abd al Qadir, Amaris soon learned, he was the gunner for the Typhoon. So Amaris and Abd talked, himself explaining how his fiancé and he had become friends of Jacobson, and she explaining the situation she was under. It was strange how quickly she became attached to the crew thereafter, how Amaris began seeing them as a family away from Zelos.
Their kindness and love, Amaris admits, is something she will be eternally thankful for.
It was not long after she turned twenty-three, after working with the Typhoon crew for two years, that Amaris was offered the opportunity of a lifetime. Jacobson was the first to approach her with the idea – he was getting old, his sight was definitely not what it used to be, and sooner or later they would have to bring in a new pilot for the Typhoon. However, Jacobson was not a man that readily trusted others and decided, soon after, that the Zelonian woman that didn’t ask too many questions was perfect for the job. Her wage, Jacobson explained, would triple without a doubt, taking her off to worlds she had never seen.
It didn’t take too long after that for Amaris to figure out what situation she placed herself in. The crew she now saw as another family, the ones she had exchanged stories with and told about her father’s state, were smugglers of sorts. There was nothing but anger in the beginning, an inability to understand why they did what they did. Smugglers cost her everything, brought her here in the first place, and Amaris couldn’t take it. For a while after this, Amaris considered leaving – no note, no two weeks’ notice, just disappearing. But money kept her there – her father wouldn’t be out for another eight years and they needed the money. Swallowing every bit of her pride and pushing anger aside, she accepted.
It was strange for Amaris, difficult even, that is, being tied-up in the smuggling industry. It wasn’t a particularly difficult job, though it was quite different from the one she had before. While before her time had been occupied by cleaning and cooking, now her time was used by learning how to fly and how to handle a gun. To be honest, Amaris had no innate piloting skills, nothing to make her excel. In fact, Jacobson spent more time teaching Amaris how to keep from crashing rather than actual flight. It was funny for most of the crew, however, often joking that the Zelonian had an unrivaled ability to crash into things – moving or not. It was an odd competitive spirit that took over her and forced her to become a better pilot. After months of practice and trial runs, Amaris soon began to manage on her own. Speed and reaction time soon became a crucial part of the woman’s technique, arguing that fighting was rather unnecessary if other ships couldn’t touch them. Her approach was rather ‘unorthodox,’ though Jacobson would readily argue that it was plain stupid, but it seemed to work.
While piloting took constant practice to become a part of Amaris’ life, shooting came naturally. For an odd reason, whenever Amaris took a blaster pistol in her hand, it felt as if everything was right. Like all those years ago when low-g acrobatics had spent her endless energy, shooting allowed her to release every ounce of anxiety felt. For those short seconds, everything was unimportant, valueless; all that mattered was hitting the target. Before Amaris knew it, she had become an excellent marksman, hitting her targets in shorter intervals and with less misses. Eventually, Jacobson was convinced that Amaris was ready to assist during a run to the planet Drall.
The job was simple, honest, had to deliver some banta crates to a clinic in one of the smaller towns. For weeks they had attempted the delivery, but time and time again the cargo ships found themselves under attack by a pirate ship that frequented the area. Desperate and without further options, the clinic had contacted the Typhoon and requested the delivery.
It was supposed to be an easy run, one that wouldn’t generate suspicion from the pirate ship, but as soon as they neared the planet, a sudden jerk caused the ship to lunge forward. The first blast stunned Amaris, nearly caused her to lose control, but she quickly recovered. At first Amaris was unsure of what to make of it, but then came the second detonation, this time closer to the cargo hold. Debris, dust, and smoke clouded the air, figures barely noticeable under the fire’s shape. They were under attack?! Her mind didn’t process the thought quick enough, her body following through the motions as she threw herself unto the control wheel, pulling as hard as she could to try and stabilize the ship. After a few unsuccessful attempts, Amaris was able to achieve control, but by that time it was too late – the cargo hold had been breached – they were being boarded. Placing Typhoon in auto pilot, she followed Jacobson out the cockpit and down the hall – they needed to stop the pirates.
Terrified screams rung through the air, coming louder and louder with each step she took. By the time she arrived to the cargo hold, all she saw was chaos. For a minute Amaris froze, unsure if her eyes were deceiving her. There before her was an all-out war, blaster rounds rung through the air, their distinct cries reverberating through the walls. But soon enough she regained control and with a new found sense of courage sprung forth.
Amaris remembers how fast-paced the fight was, shooting at two or three adversaries at a time. They were always open, always had a weak-spot, no matter how hard they tried to prevent them. Eventually she found herself a victim of these openings – she didn’t even remembers seeing the pirate, all she remembers was a blade shooting up from the floor. She moved out of the way, but not quickly enough, the blade grazing the left side of her face. The pirate was shot down by Abd, soon after that, and even while outnumbered they were not outmatched. Risking the majority of the cargo, Jacobson instructed Amaris to get back to the cockpit and split the ‘damn ships up.’
Bleeding profusely, her sight now heavily reduced, Amaris found herself running back – away from all the chaos in the hold. It was their only hope. In a desperate attempt to escape mostly unscathed, Amaris took Typhoon of autopilot and forced its nose dramatically down, a sharp angle that slowly began to strain the connecting bridge. Every minute the bridge turned more and more, slowly caving upon itself with the awkward force. And while the idea seemed like a long-shot, even to Amaris herself, the bridge eventually crumbled – snapped off like a branch.
No one expected for the ship to land; hell, Amaris thought they were going up in flames – disintegrating into little, fiery bits as soon as they broke through the atmosphere, but it all worked out. With the groan of twisting metal flying through the air, Typhoon broke through Drall’s skies – it was an emergency landing, one that gained Jacobson a broken arm, Abd a sprained ankle, several other bruised bones, and Amaris a busted lip – but it saved them.
The 'successful' delivery set the tone for the rest of Amaris Sataj's life.
As the years came and went, a strange sense of acceptance came over Amaris. While in previous years she hated the mere mention of her involvement with smugglers, the Zelonian now came to like it, maybe even enjoy it. The life was thrilling, full of adventures and close calls. By the age of twenty-six, Amaris no longer seemed horrified by the job. It was an adrenaline rush – an addiction. She viewed every delivery as a challenge and every successful drop as compensation. It was strange to see how in merely three years everything that Amaris believed had been changed – how the very thing that made her shudder now made her beam. And yet, the Zelonian was afraid, not out worry for her life or for getting caught; no, she was afraid to disappoint her family. The past three years had been a complete lie to the Sataj household, saying she had gotten a job as a secretary instead of something like this. Every other night, Amaris would lay awake at night, just contemplating the possibility of getting caught – what would she tell her mother? What could she tell her mother? But every morning she would brush the thoughts away, there was no use in holding unto those fears.
As Jacobson turned seventy years of age, the decision was reached that it was time for Typhoon to close its doors; it didn’t help that the captain was well-past his prime and most of the crew were reaching their middle-age. It saddened Amaris a little bit to know that after working for the Typhoon crew for five years, it all was coming to a stop. She needed to look for another job, to find something else she could do; though, quite frankly, after so many years it seemed like smuggling was the only thing she was good for now.
It was not long after that she began to look for a Starship, nothing horribly banged-up or expensive. After searching for weeks she came across a used C.S.D. Light Freighter. For nearly five years, the ship had been in a daily basis on short runs between cities; but, now, the business had moved on, replaced its vehicle with newer, more maneuverable ones. It was because of this, Amaris figures, that she got such a good deal, and for less than a third of the original price, Amaris bought the freighter.
Shortly after Typhoon was disbanded and saying her goodbye to Jacobson, Abd, and the others, Amaris took Decipio and left for Nar Shaddaa. There, Amaris strived to start a business of her very own.
Amaris never thought this would be the lifestyle for her. In fact, if asked about what her dreams originally were, Amaris would grimace slightly. The woman would say she thought about being married by now, with kids of her own. Perhaps she would be living in Coruscant, a successful lawyer with big cases under her belt. But in reality, Amaris has learned to let go. It was not for her. Last she heard, her siblings were finishing school; Edin was now getting an art restoration degree as he always had dreamt, Nahlia was already in medical school, she was following their mother’s steps. Mareth had graduated and now was working alongside some of Zelos most prominent law firms. Every sacrifice made took her farther away from her dream and into the world of smuggling. But Amaris does not regret it at all, it was worth it: she had helped her mother, sister, and brothers through.
Password: Trouble with Tribbles
RP Sample: Hangovers. Aggravating, unavoidable, utterly uninspiring hangovers; the cruel result of consuming unwarranted amounts of alcohol at a given time. Hangovers, a punishment full of brutal headaches and nausea pangs that sprung through her stomach with cruel intentions. Hangovers, Amaris Sataj knew them well; that is, as well as anyone who drank had come to know them. Generally, it was an experienced humored in the morning, a result of extreme indulgence during the previous night – though, these experiences did little to stir away people from the guilty pleasure of drink. But while alcohol was the usual culprit to blame in many of these mishaps, it was something much more common, something generally taken for granted that took the Zelosian this way – sugar.
Some would have thought that Amaris should know by now what to consume and what to leave alone, but she was far too stubborn, too proud to admit that sometimes she didn’t know; or, for that matter, she was stubborn to listen to anyone who was right. So, there she was, face buried in her pillows the morning after, the repetitious throbbing in her head. “Hrmph… nnhh…fuhhh…” The moan was soft, inaudible against the pillow smothering her face. But the context was quite clear, Amaris didn’t want to move – not one inch. She wanted to stay in bed all day – well, maybe get up to throw-up in the comfort of her bathroom; but, regardless, she wanted to stay indoors. Screw the sun, screw noise, screw sugar. She just wanted to curl-up and sleep. Yeah, sleep, that sounded pretty good to her right about now.
But as comfortable as she could have been, something was amiss that morning. She heard a buzzing. The rumbling was low, like a cat's purr, except it was annoying and aggravating the woman. It was endless, looping over and over again until it finally stopped. Hell, this was a bad hangover alright.
The buzzing came louder the second time, the violent rattling of plastic against the table’s counter now distinct. If anyone had a more sensible form of torture, this would be it. Amaris cringed at the noise, doing her very best to ignore the incessant sound. Just someone make it stop, please! But it wasn’t stopping, it wasn’t over yet, instead it kept buzzing and rattling to its full content. The sudden realization made Amaris’ stomach twist, her arms pressed against the bed as she pushed herself off. The sudden movement shot a sharp pain across Amaris’ stomach, causing her to curse and wince in response. And still the comlink kept ringing, and Amaris felt more and more annoyed, until her free hand shot towards the device. Comlink in hand and, once again within the comfort of her pillows, Amaris placed it in her ear and activated it
“E chu ta…” The colorful words rolled faster off her tongue than she had originally expected. “…the hell is this?” And what time was it – six? She groaned audibly, a hand shooting up to her head. Rum was not a good drink; she needed to remember that. Not. A. Good. Drink. At. All.
“Amaris?” No – it was the friggin’ chancellor. Seriously, what kind of a question was that? Amaris grumbled, but felt no energy to snap, instead putting up with the smug chuckle that followed. “Wow… babe, honestly didn’t think you’d get this omigoshed up.” Another chuckle – she mentally swore if this guy laughed one more time, she’d shoot him in the family jewels. “Again. Who the hell is this and the frak do you want?”
There was a laugh, followed by a distinct slap – okay, that’s it. No more kids for you.
“Oh, honey,” Her eyebrow twitched, the voice finally becoming recognizable. “we have a date today, remember?” Aw, hell no. That was today? Today was the day that she had to deal with that a**hole of a human to set-up the loading schedule? Sh*t. Dammit. omigosh. Today of all days she had to deal with Fosu; honestly, did life just love making her miserable? Did fate take particular amusement in seeing her wound-up, chewing endlessly at her cheeks – brow twitching, jaw clenching, all while trying to remain pleasant as possible to the insufferable man?
Sh*t.
“Ugh…”
Dammit.
“…fine…”
omigosh.
“…gimme – an hour. I’ll be there.” She pressed the comlink off, dropping it carelessly to the ground. The thumping blasted through her head, causing Amaris to cringe and bury her head into the pillows again. Dammit – work. Fine. Well, at least she got an hour before she had to go. For now – she would sleep.
Age: 27
Race: Zelosian
Birth place: Kryndyn, Zelos II
Height: 5’5’’
Weight: 128
Eye Color: Vibrant green
Hair Color: Auburn
Katarina du Couteau | Zerochan
Appearance: The air is stagnant in the Drunken Drummer, hazy and gray with the remnants of cigarra smoke floating through the air. Loud, drunken voices fill the air – the clinking of glasses against the wooden counter and moving chairs are common as well. Most of the figures are well known in this slum of a place -- infamous in the belly of the galaxy. Most seem unapproachable, characters you would not want to meet in a deserted alley at night. Unlike most of the characters that visit this god forsaken place, Amaris Sataj comes off as a sight for sore eyes.
A delicate figure greets the eyes, shy curves noticeable beneath the cool touch of sheer fabric. Often times she tilts her head, allowing curious onlookers to glance at an exquisite, long neck. Her features are soft, slightly round, youthful, by the definition of most; however, the woman's features are often disrupted, wide almond eyes narrowed as she processes a thought, or full lips bitten when she finds herself distressed. Amaris is quite expressive, none will deny, letting people know exactly what's going on through her mind. Aside from her curious expressions, she is quite pretty, most will admit, a woman graced with delicate features and generous, full lips. If one were to sacrifice their time to further examine the woman, they would notice her eyes -- vibrantly green with a mischievous gleam set between high cheekbones and slightly arched brows. A Zelonian trademark she has come to embrace, Amaris' eyes are unusual, deep and tantalizing, capturing the attention of most.
As tantalizing as her eyes can be, all possibility of peace is torn away from them, disrupted with a single scar. Running vertically across her left eye, Amaris’ scar serves as a reminder of how she first got involved in the smuggling world. This discrepancy doesn’t particularly bother her, often boasting that it gives her character. If one is able to tear away their attention from the emerald orbs, the next thing that will be noticed from Amaris is her hair. Wild and unruly, the silky spread of layered auburn hair resembles her personality in many ways. If left to its own devices, Amaris’ hair does as it pleases, when it pleases – when Amaris does attempt to tame it, the woman only succeeds if she were to pull it back into a ponytail or a messy bun of sorts.
Weathered beige cigarette pants, secured with an equally tattered belt start off her outfit -- an ensemble that lacks any particularly extraordinary features. For the most part they seem like an after-thought, sitting lazily at her hips, the only particular feature that one would notice being the holster secured on her right leg. The shirts vary from place to place, using whatever she deems appropriate for the weather; yet, for the most part, Amaris will be seen sporting a light linen shirt with a deeply scooped neck. Light and comfortable, she often describes it, allowing her as much mobility as possible. On top of the shirt, protecting her from harsh climate conditions sits a weathered aviator jacket that has been far better days. Belted brown boots dangle from her feet and a pair of cut-off gloves protects her hands. While most of her outfit has suffered the passing of the years, the one thing Amaris carries with her and is still pristine, is a dainty, little necklace given to her long ago.
Personality: Amaris Sataj sticks out like a sore thumb. The woman is anything but typical, from her attire to her appearance, to the way she furrows her brow in deep thought, there are few things about Amaris that can be ignored. From a warm, gregarious soul, to a mischievous sprite with spit-fire replies; Amaris is spirited, truly passionate – someone who envelopes herself fully in whatever she does. Generally speaking, Amaris comes off as cunning; devious smiles and artful glances exchanged behind the security of heavy lashes most often make Amaris appear as if she knows more than what she is letting go. Yet, if one were to talk to the Zelosian, a laid-back, well-disposed character begins to appear. Amaris is capable of giving gentle smiles and soft words when needed as well as stern look and reprimand when required. It is not unusual to see close friends of the woman coming to her whenever they have a problem, knowing well enough that they will meet nothing else but sincerity and genuine concern.
Though Amaris is friendly without a doubt, she sometimes has the nasty habit of rubbing people the wrong way: Amaris is a smart-ass. Snarky comebacks and spitfire replies dance off her tongue just as easily as a smile dances across her lips. Generally the woman means no spite and seems to regress to this behavior most frequently when she feels distressed – a safety mechanism that seems to get her in more trouble than anything else. Combining her piercing words with her apparent overconfidence, Amaris sometimes comes off as impulsive and arrogant; however, Amaris is both extremely smart and competent and willingly acknowledges when she has gone too far.
Profession: Smuggler
Skills: Marksmanship | Piloting | Agile
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 4
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 6
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 4
Melee Weapons: 3
Ranged Weapons: 6
Ship Name: DECIPIO
Bio:
A Strange Thing, Life
THE MARRIAGE OF CATALINA AND NAVID SATAJ
THE MARRIAGE OF CATALINA AND NAVID SATAJ
Catalina Laitila was beautiful by the standards of most, a bright, eager young woman who sought nothing more in life but to have her dream come true. Those who knew her described the woman as wholesome and sweet – with the tendency of placing others before her own well-being. It was troubling at times, especially for her family, who feared that the woman often took rash decisions that could quite possibly endanger her. But life was good to Catalina, kept her safe from harm, and when time finally came for her to move on to college, her parents felt a certain relief in their hearts. It was there that she met him, a quiet, handsome young man, with dark olive skin and a charming smile. His name was Navid Sataj, a second year business student; one sought great things for the future.
Navid thought that Catalina was the most divine being that the Galaxy had been graced to meet – it was love at first sight, destiny. Call it what you will, but could deny that once Navid and Catalina met each other something had ‘clicked.’ Affectionate terms of endearment were often coined by friends to label their love, but it wasn’t necessarily one or the other. They found each other – fell in love faster than most. It was simple. After a short courtship and after a year of dating, the two were soon engaged. This is what they wanted to do, there were no regrets.
Marriage life suited the young businessman and his wife, they made the perfect couple as far as eyes could see. Two years after their marriage, as they found themselves in their mid-twenties, they began to contemplate the idea of a child – the perfect gift that would solidify everything they felt for each other. But while their life had been rewarding to them, when it came time to have a child, fate was less kind. The years went by and the couple began to get worried. They had hoped for many years to have a family of their own, but as the months passed in vain, their hearts began to sink. Something was wrong, there was no child coming. Were they incapable? Unlucky? Or a sign that it was never meant to be? The couple never spoke a word of this to one another, but their feelings were clear – they were becoming discouraged, giving up on the idea altogether. The devastation felt began to take a toll on the once happy couple; what had once been a blissful marriage was now replaced by a gap, one that could not be filled.
Navid drowned himself in work, the company he had been working on capturing all of his available time. Catalina, on the other hand, worked long hours in the clinic, spending as much time away from the house as possible. Friends and family of the couple were mortified, the once happy couple was deteriorating. It wasn’t as a result of lack of love, no, love existed bountifully; but, it almost seemed as if they were disappointed in themselves, thinking that they had let the other down.
It is strange how life works, however, how it suddenly takes you by the hand, guiding you, pulling you, doing whatever it pleases with you; life carries unexpected surprises and as Catalina turned twenty-eight that life came knocking. After years of trials and failures, Catalina and Navid Sataj were expecting. The pregnancy was uneventful for the young couple, filled with endless happiness and guesses of what the child would be. The months passed, and it was during an early summer that Catalina went into labor. The hours were long, passing by slower than Navid had hoped for. Finally, the doctor came out from the room -- it was a baby girl. Navid rushed to his wife's side and there he saw her -- as beautiful as ever, cradling a small bundle in her arms. The name was given, Amaris, ‘As god said,’ and so began the life of the wide-eyed girl.
That Smile
THE EARLY LIFE OF AMARIS SATAJ
THE EARLY LIFE OF AMARIS SATAJ
Amaris was doted on and affectionately cared for during her infant and toddler years. She was a happy and lively child, one that played well with others and who was surprisingly reliant for a child her age. Amaris made friends like any other, chasing after her older cousins like a baby duckling. Her parents cherished her in turn, often mentioning just how lucky they were -- when they seemed unable to conceive, here came a miracle that had changed their lives.
But life can be a fickle mistress; while Catalina and Navid were convinced that no other child would come after Amaris, not two years later they were dotted with another gift, a set of triplets. In less than a year the family of three had doubled in size, the once quiet penthouse was now booming with noise. Peace was now rare, chaos becoming a daily sight in the household. Neither of the parents seemed to mind, enjoying the lively surroundings. There was never a dull moment, Amaris often recalls, ‘adventures’ a common mishap amongst the siblings. By the age of five, Amaris had embraced her role as an older sister to her parents' relief, the young girl playing with her younger siblings Nahlia, Edin, and Mareth. She tried to teach them, that is, as best as a child can teach another, showing them pictures she made, games to be played, and even showing them where her parents hid their gifts, much to her parents dismay.
It was not long after that Amaris turned six years old that she was enrolled in the Zelos Keystone Academy, a private academy that her father had been enrolled in when he was her age. The idea of school fascinated Amaris, bouncing up and down with delight, what adventures awaited her there?
To her peers and teachers Amaris came off as a vibrant girl, full of curiosity, and a certain hunger to make the best of her life. School life was fun to the young Zelosian, seeing it almost like an extension of her home. Friends were quickly made, sleepovers and parties becoming a normal part of Amaris’ weekends; but still she wanted to do more. It was a few months after she began first grade that Amaris found herself enrolled in low-g gymnastic classes, where she could let go of her boundless energy. While gymnastics helped release most of Amaris’ erratic behavior, her playfulness and overall friendliness never wavered.
When school and gymnastics were not entertaining the girl, she found herself at home, playing with her siblings and telling them what she had learned and what she had seen. For instance, did they know that in other planets, far away, children were able to eat sugar if they pleased? It wasn’t something only grown-ups could eat! Or the fact that there were people, very special out there, that could move things without touching them – they went to this special school, her teacher had said, a far place away. They were called Jadei, one of her classmates explained, they were ten feet tall and really strong. Quite frankly, Amaris was fascinated and her siblings were too. It soon became a daily habit for the four Sataj children to huddle together as Amaris came home from school, so their older sibling could illuminate them about the worlds that existed beyond Zelos II.
Ripples
THE DESTRUCTION OF DREAMS
THE DESTRUCTION OF DREAMS
High school years came and went, Amaris enjoying them to a full extent. From family vacations they took, to spending time with her friends, there was nothing she did that she would regret.
It was in high school where Amaris first discovered her passion in books, delving into worlds very different from Zelos II. They were worlds full of mystery, romance, and passion. In more than one occasion Amaris found herself fantasizing about the books, becoming one with the rich, fulfilling characters and going off in adventures like no other. From classic books to beautiful poems, she was enthralled. Amaris recalls being teased in more than one occasion by her friends, calling her a hopeless romantic of sorts. Time after time, Amaris would shrug it off with a laugh; though, truth be told, she couldn’t agree more. If one had asked Amaris at time what she wanted to do with her life, leading a life of adventure would be the most likely response.
At seventeen, the business her father had invested himself fully in began to boom; there was no household in Kryndyn who didn’t know Sataj Delivery Services. The once dream her father had held close to his heart was now a full-fledged reality. Amaris was thrilled to see his dream come true, especially as she watched her parents look lovingly at each other – puppy love even after more than twenty years of marriage. It was perfect, their life was perfect. Amaris couldn’t ask for anything more.
But things never quite turn out as planned, do they?
It was supposed to be “the best year.” The year, she would never forget; quite frankly, she never will, but for very different reasons. It was three months into her senior year when it happened early one autumn morning. It was a Primeday, she had been studying late – had a test the very next day. The booming was so loud, deafening. Amaris barely remembers how the noise made her jump out of bed. She heard footsteps – heavy, loud, like a thick staccato resonating in the depths of her head. Amaris rushed to her bedroom door – she could hear her mother screaming, she was so confused. By the time Amaris tore the door open she saw them, they must have been about six, clad in black, blasters in hands. She could see her brothers frozen in the corner, unsure what to do, Nahlia was crying – she was terrified. They came out of her parent’s bedroom, Amaris could recognize them now, they were police officers. The second to the last man to come out looked disheveled, hair a mess, shirt torn open – Amaris nearly didn’t recognize him as her dad. She remembers moving after that, screaming on top of her lungs, trying to get the men away from her father; what right did they have? But she felt herself stopped, her mother holding unto her before she did anything stupid. She remembers her father faintly saying not to worry, that everything would be fine.
Pity. It was the first time he made a promise he couldn’t keep.
The next sequence of events came in a blur – her mother was grabbing her coat, telling Amaris that she would call. Nahlia still cried, Edin stood in horror, and Mareth had rushed to the bathroom, sick to his stomach. Amaris remembers that day as if it all occurred in slow motion; every detail, every expression seen, everything comes as clear to her as if happening before her very eyes. They didn’t speak much that day, save for half-hearted reassurances that everything would be fine. It was nearly twelve hours later that their mother finally called, Navid had been arrested, charged with several cases of racketeering, which, Amaris would later learn, included trafficking, bribery, frauds, weapon trafficking, and transportation and concealment of illegal substances.
From what Amaris learned, employees of her father, people she had known since she was very small, had been taking advantage of her father’s legitimate business as a front to smuggle illicit substances and weapons on the side. When the police figured what was going on, they became convinced that the owner himself, Navid Sataj was involved – the brains of the operation, they would later call. But the police had nothing on her father, Amaris recalls, so they offered an incentive to the employees – to sell the “mastermind” out for a reduced sentence. The police didn’t wait long. Felip Jonu, her father’s right hand man, gladly sold him out. While the evidence was mostly circumstantial, it was enough to take Navid on trial – and that very day they took him.
The trial was long, exhausting to tell the truth, taking Amaris attention away from friends and school. Her grades had begun to suffer, but the Zelosian didn’t care – all she wanted was her father to come home again. It wouldn’t happen though, something had always told Amaris so. Six months of trials later, her father was convicted, sentenced to fifteen years. They were crushed. Amaris had believed for so long that everything would be fine. She couldn’t really process what was happening in the court. Even as her father leaned over to kiss them goodbye, Amaris couldn’t believe it – she was deadpan.
After that, her mother was never the same – she lost her spark. The love of her life, Amaris would say, was taken away – in an instant everything had changed. Someone had taken her father’s dream and turned it against him. Amaris’ mother tried her best to make everything work under the circumstances, but they soon were forced to sell their home, move into a smaller apartment. As a result of the trial, Amaris had lost most of her friends, quite frankly, she didn’t even bother calling them that anymore. It seemed that when news came out of her father’s arrest, no one wanted to be associated with them anymore. It was strange, hurtful, but it didn’t bother her – it was their decision, she had no time to waste on them.
When Amaris once didn’t have to worry about jobs, just to concentrate in school, now everything seemed to revolve around money – making ends meet. Amaris got a part time job after school, working as a waitress at a local café. It was not a particularly well-paying job, but it helped them at times of need; she could buy food, necessities, make sure that her mother and siblings had all she could give. Long days at work were soon followed by late nights at home, cleaning, washing, doing homework, all for when her mother came back she didn’t have to worry about anything else.
Graduation day came faster than any of them could have expected; as the rhythm of this new life settled in, Amaris’ life was beginning to change. It was time to face the truth, face her dreams, and it all began with that little piece of paper.
Her mother and siblings were there to support her as she received her diploma, but part of Amaris felt – empty. As she watched her friends hug and kiss their parents, parents crying as pictures were shared, this past year had been hell. When this was supposed to be the year she would always remember, the one she would always look fondly on, Amaris felt torn, distressed. In that single year everything had been torn away from her, stripped her bare, left her and her family broken and alone. Amaris tried her very best to not let this affect her, to look unto the future with hopeful eyes, but it wasn’t enough.
That night, after returning to their apartment after a little celebration, Amaris found herself in the shower crying – the water drowning out any available noise. For the first time that year, for the first time since she saw her father off, Amaris cried. She cried about her father, about how she had lost her friends, about how her mother and her siblings were suffering, about how everything was coming undone. Sure they had each other, their love and support, but that day it just wasn’t enough. For the first time she was jealous of her peers and their parents, about how they didn’t have to go through this, about how they were happy and they weren’t. Amaris just wanted everything to go back to how it used to be.
After graduation, Amaris often contemplated on following her parents’ footsteps and setting off to college. She had the grades to do it, the desire to learn, and the support of her family. Actually, Amaris came pretty close to going as well; that is, until she woke up late one night and found her mother huddled in the kitchen table, calculating expenses and trying to figure out how exactly she was going to afford Amaris college. She knew her mother had talked about taking a second job, but Amaris never knew this was why – to get her to college. Amaris felt guilty, so ungrateful. That very night, standing behind her mother, Amaris decided that as long as she had wished for it, college life was not for her. Her siblings, her mom, they needed her help – it was her time to take charge now. The next day, Amaris approached her mother, told her the truth – she changed her mind, college was not what she needed to do; there was little that could be said to change Amaris’s mind.
Amaris took all her applications, letters, essays – all her work and sealed it away in a box. Every once in a while she thinks about that box, is it still sitting under her bed, gathering dust?
Amaris didn’t particularly regret not going to school; though she often wonders if she would have a job by now with a far better pay. It was hard getting a job in the beginning, especially when Amaris was competing with so many people that already had a degree. Amaris had to often settle for part-time jobs of seasonal jobs that didn’t pay well. It was frustrating. Finally, after a few months of searching, as Amaris reached twenty years of age, she heard of a place called Coronet City, found in the planet of Corellia. A crew was looking for a decent cook, someone to clean-up the ship as well. It was less than perfect, but the pay was better than all the places she had visited and, to be honest, the place was alluring. At the age of twenty, much to her mother’s dismay, Amaris said goodbye to her family and left to the far away planet.
The Decision
ALL AROUND IS CAVING IN
ALL AROUND IS CAVING IN
Corellia itself wasn’t very different from Zelos II; it had a pleasant climate, vast mountain ranges and extensive forests. The people seemed nice as well, if a little guarded at first, but nothing that particularly bothered Amaris. Eventually, things would fall into place. In the next couple of days she called the export company, setting up an interview. Upon the first meeting, everything seemed, niceties were exchanged along a light-hearted joke. Part of Amaris was convinced she was getting the job; that is, until the man glanced over her resume. It was a strange sight, Amaris would admit, how quickly his expression soured, as if got a bad taste in his mouth. He called her an ‘ekster,’ a term she had never heard before, with that simple word she was told there was no job for her. Outsiders, Amaris would later learn, were looked with great disdain and cynicism by certain Corellian groups. They were not necessarily ‘evil people,’ as some coined; in fact, they could be some of the nicest people Amaris had met, that is, until they found they had an outsider in their hands. She couldn’t blame them, though. Some Corellians met outsiders with disdain for the same reason that some outsiders hated Corellians; and while it was definitely undeserved, it was what they had come to know.
Months passed and with them Amaris became more used to her new surroundings. Jobs were difficult to find, but not impossible. Odd jobs and seasonal jobs became part of Amaris repertoire, working from a sales representative, to a waitress, to mowing lawns, to washing landspeeders, there was almost nothing Amaris didn’t try. And every day after work, Amaris found herself looking, scouting for signs of a permanent job, all without hope; that is, until she came across the Typhoon.
It was not a glamorous job, nothing a twenty-one year old would ever want to be, but it paid well – far better than any other job she had seen – and it was honest, what else could she ask for? When Amaris first met the captain, an older Corellian man of sixty-five by the name of Jacobson, she was immediately taken back by his abrasive nature. He seemed to snarl as he spoke, incriminating stares shot at people behind a carefully turned-up nose. Jacobson scoffed as soon as he saw Amaris, calling her young, inexperienced, and stupid, that she knew next to nothing when it came to taking care of a ship. But Amaris was surprised when Jacobson told her to come early the next morning – he’d give her a week before she ran off. Jacobson was an intimidating man, Amaris often recalls with a grin, but he wasn’t mean; in fact, Jacobson could be almost sweet in his own, little way.
Amaris spent most of her time on her lonesome, cleaning and scrubbing from left to right, top to bottom; most of her interactions were reduced to Jacobson or his wife of forty-five years. But, she didn’t particularly mind, she enjoyed their company, and when she was, in fact, alone she occupied herself by humming or daydreaming about her home. One day, her quiet reverie was interrupted by a sight unlike any other. The man was huge. With a dark, fuzzy beard and equally dark eyes – but his most notable traits were his fiery red skin and pointed ears. Amaris must have looked quite surprised, she figures, since the Red Nebula male gave a toothy grin. His name was Abd al Qadir, Amaris soon learned, he was the gunner for the Typhoon. So Amaris and Abd talked, himself explaining how his fiancé and he had become friends of Jacobson, and she explaining the situation she was under. It was strange how quickly she became attached to the crew thereafter, how Amaris began seeing them as a family away from Zelos.
Their kindness and love, Amaris admits, is something she will be eternally thankful for.
It was not long after she turned twenty-three, after working with the Typhoon crew for two years, that Amaris was offered the opportunity of a lifetime. Jacobson was the first to approach her with the idea – he was getting old, his sight was definitely not what it used to be, and sooner or later they would have to bring in a new pilot for the Typhoon. However, Jacobson was not a man that readily trusted others and decided, soon after, that the Zelonian woman that didn’t ask too many questions was perfect for the job. Her wage, Jacobson explained, would triple without a doubt, taking her off to worlds she had never seen.
It didn’t take too long after that for Amaris to figure out what situation she placed herself in. The crew she now saw as another family, the ones she had exchanged stories with and told about her father’s state, were smugglers of sorts. There was nothing but anger in the beginning, an inability to understand why they did what they did. Smugglers cost her everything, brought her here in the first place, and Amaris couldn’t take it. For a while after this, Amaris considered leaving – no note, no two weeks’ notice, just disappearing. But money kept her there – her father wouldn’t be out for another eight years and they needed the money. Swallowing every bit of her pride and pushing anger aside, she accepted.
Luck
TIME AND MERCY IS OUT OF REACH
TIME AND MERCY IS OUT OF REACH
It was strange for Amaris, difficult even, that is, being tied-up in the smuggling industry. It wasn’t a particularly difficult job, though it was quite different from the one she had before. While before her time had been occupied by cleaning and cooking, now her time was used by learning how to fly and how to handle a gun. To be honest, Amaris had no innate piloting skills, nothing to make her excel. In fact, Jacobson spent more time teaching Amaris how to keep from crashing rather than actual flight. It was funny for most of the crew, however, often joking that the Zelonian had an unrivaled ability to crash into things – moving or not. It was an odd competitive spirit that took over her and forced her to become a better pilot. After months of practice and trial runs, Amaris soon began to manage on her own. Speed and reaction time soon became a crucial part of the woman’s technique, arguing that fighting was rather unnecessary if other ships couldn’t touch them. Her approach was rather ‘unorthodox,’ though Jacobson would readily argue that it was plain stupid, but it seemed to work.
While piloting took constant practice to become a part of Amaris’ life, shooting came naturally. For an odd reason, whenever Amaris took a blaster pistol in her hand, it felt as if everything was right. Like all those years ago when low-g acrobatics had spent her endless energy, shooting allowed her to release every ounce of anxiety felt. For those short seconds, everything was unimportant, valueless; all that mattered was hitting the target. Before Amaris knew it, she had become an excellent marksman, hitting her targets in shorter intervals and with less misses. Eventually, Jacobson was convinced that Amaris was ready to assist during a run to the planet Drall.
The job was simple, honest, had to deliver some banta crates to a clinic in one of the smaller towns. For weeks they had attempted the delivery, but time and time again the cargo ships found themselves under attack by a pirate ship that frequented the area. Desperate and without further options, the clinic had contacted the Typhoon and requested the delivery.
It was supposed to be an easy run, one that wouldn’t generate suspicion from the pirate ship, but as soon as they neared the planet, a sudden jerk caused the ship to lunge forward. The first blast stunned Amaris, nearly caused her to lose control, but she quickly recovered. At first Amaris was unsure of what to make of it, but then came the second detonation, this time closer to the cargo hold. Debris, dust, and smoke clouded the air, figures barely noticeable under the fire’s shape. They were under attack?! Her mind didn’t process the thought quick enough, her body following through the motions as she threw herself unto the control wheel, pulling as hard as she could to try and stabilize the ship. After a few unsuccessful attempts, Amaris was able to achieve control, but by that time it was too late – the cargo hold had been breached – they were being boarded. Placing Typhoon in auto pilot, she followed Jacobson out the cockpit and down the hall – they needed to stop the pirates.
Terrified screams rung through the air, coming louder and louder with each step she took. By the time she arrived to the cargo hold, all she saw was chaos. For a minute Amaris froze, unsure if her eyes were deceiving her. There before her was an all-out war, blaster rounds rung through the air, their distinct cries reverberating through the walls. But soon enough she regained control and with a new found sense of courage sprung forth.
Amaris remembers how fast-paced the fight was, shooting at two or three adversaries at a time. They were always open, always had a weak-spot, no matter how hard they tried to prevent them. Eventually she found herself a victim of these openings – she didn’t even remembers seeing the pirate, all she remembers was a blade shooting up from the floor. She moved out of the way, but not quickly enough, the blade grazing the left side of her face. The pirate was shot down by Abd, soon after that, and even while outnumbered they were not outmatched. Risking the majority of the cargo, Jacobson instructed Amaris to get back to the cockpit and split the ‘damn ships up.’
Bleeding profusely, her sight now heavily reduced, Amaris found herself running back – away from all the chaos in the hold. It was their only hope. In a desperate attempt to escape mostly unscathed, Amaris took Typhoon of autopilot and forced its nose dramatically down, a sharp angle that slowly began to strain the connecting bridge. Every minute the bridge turned more and more, slowly caving upon itself with the awkward force. And while the idea seemed like a long-shot, even to Amaris herself, the bridge eventually crumbled – snapped off like a branch.
No one expected for the ship to land; hell, Amaris thought they were going up in flames – disintegrating into little, fiery bits as soon as they broke through the atmosphere, but it all worked out. With the groan of twisting metal flying through the air, Typhoon broke through Drall’s skies – it was an emergency landing, one that gained Jacobson a broken arm, Abd a sprained ankle, several other bruised bones, and Amaris a busted lip – but it saved them.
The 'successful' delivery set the tone for the rest of Amaris Sataj's life.
As the years came and went, a strange sense of acceptance came over Amaris. While in previous years she hated the mere mention of her involvement with smugglers, the Zelonian now came to like it, maybe even enjoy it. The life was thrilling, full of adventures and close calls. By the age of twenty-six, Amaris no longer seemed horrified by the job. It was an adrenaline rush – an addiction. She viewed every delivery as a challenge and every successful drop as compensation. It was strange to see how in merely three years everything that Amaris believed had been changed – how the very thing that made her shudder now made her beam. And yet, the Zelonian was afraid, not out worry for her life or for getting caught; no, she was afraid to disappoint her family. The past three years had been a complete lie to the Sataj household, saying she had gotten a job as a secretary instead of something like this. Every other night, Amaris would lay awake at night, just contemplating the possibility of getting caught – what would she tell her mother? What could she tell her mother? But every morning she would brush the thoughts away, there was no use in holding unto those fears.
As Jacobson turned seventy years of age, the decision was reached that it was time for Typhoon to close its doors; it didn’t help that the captain was well-past his prime and most of the crew were reaching their middle-age. It saddened Amaris a little bit to know that after working for the Typhoon crew for five years, it all was coming to a stop. She needed to look for another job, to find something else she could do; though, quite frankly, after so many years it seemed like smuggling was the only thing she was good for now.
It was not long after that she began to look for a Starship, nothing horribly banged-up or expensive. After searching for weeks she came across a used C.S.D. Light Freighter. For nearly five years, the ship had been in a daily basis on short runs between cities; but, now, the business had moved on, replaced its vehicle with newer, more maneuverable ones. It was because of this, Amaris figures, that she got such a good deal, and for less than a third of the original price, Amaris bought the freighter.
Shortly after Typhoon was disbanded and saying her goodbye to Jacobson, Abd, and the others, Amaris took Decipio and left for Nar Shaddaa. There, Amaris strived to start a business of her very own.
Life
NO REST FOR THE WICKED
NO REST FOR THE WICKED
Amaris never thought this would be the lifestyle for her. In fact, if asked about what her dreams originally were, Amaris would grimace slightly. The woman would say she thought about being married by now, with kids of her own. Perhaps she would be living in Coruscant, a successful lawyer with big cases under her belt. But in reality, Amaris has learned to let go. It was not for her. Last she heard, her siblings were finishing school; Edin was now getting an art restoration degree as he always had dreamt, Nahlia was already in medical school, she was following their mother’s steps. Mareth had graduated and now was working alongside some of Zelos most prominent law firms. Every sacrifice made took her farther away from her dream and into the world of smuggling. But Amaris does not regret it at all, it was worth it: she had helped her mother, sister, and brothers through.
Password: Trouble with Tribbles
RP Sample: Hangovers. Aggravating, unavoidable, utterly uninspiring hangovers; the cruel result of consuming unwarranted amounts of alcohol at a given time. Hangovers, a punishment full of brutal headaches and nausea pangs that sprung through her stomach with cruel intentions. Hangovers, Amaris Sataj knew them well; that is, as well as anyone who drank had come to know them. Generally, it was an experienced humored in the morning, a result of extreme indulgence during the previous night – though, these experiences did little to stir away people from the guilty pleasure of drink. But while alcohol was the usual culprit to blame in many of these mishaps, it was something much more common, something generally taken for granted that took the Zelosian this way – sugar.
Some would have thought that Amaris should know by now what to consume and what to leave alone, but she was far too stubborn, too proud to admit that sometimes she didn’t know; or, for that matter, she was stubborn to listen to anyone who was right. So, there she was, face buried in her pillows the morning after, the repetitious throbbing in her head. “Hrmph… nnhh…fuhhh…” The moan was soft, inaudible against the pillow smothering her face. But the context was quite clear, Amaris didn’t want to move – not one inch. She wanted to stay in bed all day – well, maybe get up to throw-up in the comfort of her bathroom; but, regardless, she wanted to stay indoors. Screw the sun, screw noise, screw sugar. She just wanted to curl-up and sleep. Yeah, sleep, that sounded pretty good to her right about now.
But as comfortable as she could have been, something was amiss that morning. She heard a buzzing. The rumbling was low, like a cat's purr, except it was annoying and aggravating the woman. It was endless, looping over and over again until it finally stopped. Hell, this was a bad hangover alright.
The buzzing came louder the second time, the violent rattling of plastic against the table’s counter now distinct. If anyone had a more sensible form of torture, this would be it. Amaris cringed at the noise, doing her very best to ignore the incessant sound. Just someone make it stop, please! But it wasn’t stopping, it wasn’t over yet, instead it kept buzzing and rattling to its full content. The sudden realization made Amaris’ stomach twist, her arms pressed against the bed as she pushed herself off. The sudden movement shot a sharp pain across Amaris’ stomach, causing her to curse and wince in response. And still the comlink kept ringing, and Amaris felt more and more annoyed, until her free hand shot towards the device. Comlink in hand and, once again within the comfort of her pillows, Amaris placed it in her ear and activated it
“E chu ta…” The colorful words rolled faster off her tongue than she had originally expected. “…the hell is this?” And what time was it – six? She groaned audibly, a hand shooting up to her head. Rum was not a good drink; she needed to remember that. Not. A. Good. Drink. At. All.
“Amaris?” No – it was the friggin’ chancellor. Seriously, what kind of a question was that? Amaris grumbled, but felt no energy to snap, instead putting up with the smug chuckle that followed. “Wow… babe, honestly didn’t think you’d get this omigoshed up.” Another chuckle – she mentally swore if this guy laughed one more time, she’d shoot him in the family jewels. “Again. Who the hell is this and the frak do you want?”
There was a laugh, followed by a distinct slap – okay, that’s it. No more kids for you.
“Oh, honey,” Her eyebrow twitched, the voice finally becoming recognizable. “we have a date today, remember?” Aw, hell no. That was today? Today was the day that she had to deal with that a**hole of a human to set-up the loading schedule? Sh*t. Dammit. omigosh. Today of all days she had to deal with Fosu; honestly, did life just love making her miserable? Did fate take particular amusement in seeing her wound-up, chewing endlessly at her cheeks – brow twitching, jaw clenching, all while trying to remain pleasant as possible to the insufferable man?
Sh*t.
“Ugh…”
Dammit.
“…fine…”
omigosh.
“…gimme – an hour. I’ll be there.” She pressed the comlink off, dropping it carelessly to the ground. The thumping blasted through her head, causing Amaris to cringe and bury her head into the pillows again. Dammit – work. Fine. Well, at least she got an hour before she had to go. For now – she would sleep.
