Jake Azzameen

Jake Azzameen Biographical Information Homeworld: Mon Calamari Date of Birth: Year -14 Day 177 Date of Death: Unknown Physical Description Race: Mon Calamari Gender: Male Height: 1.8 meters Hair Color: None Eye Color: Orange Political Information Era(s): Galactic Civil War Affiliation: Rebel Alliance, Republic Mining Corporation, The Antarian Rangers, Jedi Praxium, Intellifish, Universal Network Bank, House Darian

Biography

It had been a nice weather for the past week, the view from the floating city on Dac over the wide vast ocean was crystal clear and brilliant. It could have been a peaceful day with joy and happiness. But it was not. A large shadow, moved like a dagger over the city and soon the first explosions alerted the aquatic humanoids that they were under attack and besieged. Soon Tie Fighters patrolled the fresh air above the skyscrapers, and Imperial Stormtroopers – counted in hundreds and thousands – the streets. The Mon Calamarian Knights, for a long time keepers of peace and soldiers of legendary skill, were too few to hold off the cold grip of power, that has been wrapped around the peaceful planet by his Majesty, the Emperor. Mass deportations and executions occurred daily, many of the proud natives to Dac disappeared in the torture cells of the infamous Imperial Security Bureau. Screams yelled through the city.

It has been this morning that a young Calamarian family was escorted out of their home by Imperial Agents. Their time had come. The noble parents looked calm, respectful, despite the wounds they had suffered. They knew that they would never see Dac again, never dive through the wide oceans. The father, wearing a heavily damaged Knight’s armour broke into his knees due to a wound he had suffered. Quickly the barrel of an E-11 Blaster Rifle of Imperial design brought him up to feet again. The child started to cry, and against all odds, it could be brought to silence. The same blaster barrel that simply knocked it out. On their way to the prison ship more captured knights joined them, all escorted by Imperial clones. The walk was long, and fortunately the mother was able to carry the child. Many were not. Those who could not continue were shot to death instantly. None of the Imperials seemed to care whether they made it to their destination.

Finally they arrived. A dark prison ship of relatively new design awaited them already. It was their fate to be sold as slaves, and now some Calamari almost begged for death through their actions. Just now, it was not granted anymore. Stun Cuffs, non-fatal weapons forced them onboard. Apathy, faithless, broken eyes. The climate onboard was a torture itself, it was dry and hot. Not really a nice environment. But they were kept alive. It would not make sense to endanger a costly load like this one and slaves of their origin were expensive, too expensive for a risk. Childish belief of safety among his parents, the young one slept most of the time. Sleep among the smell, the hot, the dry, the brutality. Sometimes they could hear the haunted voices and screams of pain and torture of those who did not obey to Imperial command and order. It did not make sense, but did war ever make sense? Lethargy ruled their live. Only the will to secure the child kept the parents alive. The little water they received, enough to survive for each individual, the child got.

After some time, a week, the ship eventually entered an orbit. It looked like they would soon reach their destination, and in fact, black clothed Imperial Navy Troopers stood guard in anticipation everywhere. They had arrived at the capital of the galactic government, Coruscant. The planet entirely covered by skyscrapers, slums, factories in different layers, dirty, and of bustling vitality. Once it had been the seat of the Senate of the Old Republic, now it was the capital of the Galactic Empire and the Throne of the Emperor. The natives to Dac where driven off the ship, straight into the slave markets and labour camps, presented to the mob. Soon enough families were torn apart, lifelong chains eternally cut through by oppression and death. Only the will to protect their child kept the young Calamarian parents alive. A Kuati Commander wearing the uniform of the Imperial Navy passed their cage. An intelligent but hard look. The young one stopped to cry and looked back – deep into each others eyes. The Commander moved a few steps. Walked back and talked to the Trader and another family was torn apart.

While the fate of the young Knight and his wife remained unknown, the Calamari proofed to be a good buy for the Imperial. After a short time of adaptation, and of course a new orientation, away from his parents, to the Imperial, the young boy from Dac showed unnatural interest for a slave. He attended an Imperial Academy, and even graduated with the approval of his owner, majoring in naval tactics and strategy. And although he spoke now Basic, Kuati he always remembered his native language, Calamarian, and despite continued efforts sometimes even his heritage. Eventually he was given a name by the Commander, that sounded familiar to his original names, which unfortunately has been successfully erased from his mind, Jake.

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