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 Tarrmis (Approved - Grelite)

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PostSubject: Tarrmis (Approved - Grelite)   Thu Dec 17, 2009 2:30 pm

Name: Tarrmis
Age: 37
Homeplanet: Essowyn
Race: Saurton
Rank: Corporal (Reavers)
Class: Zealot
Appearance:


History:
Tarrmis leaned with his elbow on the table, as he rested his head on his hand. He stared across the table, watching his son eat the dinner his wife had prepared for him. Outside the busy streets could be heard. Saurtons yelling at each other, starting fights. Tarrmis sat up right, grabbing the meat on his plate, tearing off a piece with his powerful jaws. After chewing down the piece his eyes went to his son again, who seemed to struggle getting all off the meal down.
“You'll need to eat all of it, if you want to become big and strong.”
His son looked at him.
“But I'm full, I can't eat more!”
“Do you want to get beaten up at school?”
The child stared down at his plate.
“No, father.”
And the young Saurton returned to his meal.

The next day, after his wife left to bring his son to school, Tarrmis left for work. Today he and Pattic would be hunting at Point Five, where the forest met the plains. He rode past the Reaver banners out of town, where he'd planned to meet Pattic. Shortly showing his driving and hunting permit, Tarrmis was allowed to head out again. When he arrived at Point Five, Tarrmis noticed Pattic was all ready there, all ready in full gear, checking his rifles. As he got out of the speeder Pattic greeted him, he did seem a little nervous.

The pair moved along the trees, checking their heart-beat sensors for animals.
“You got outta town all right?” Pattic inquired.
“Ran by the checkpoint fine. Why? I have the permits...”
“The Rezzies did a bust right off that checkpoint, it surprises me they didn't cut off all outgoing traffic.”
“I didn't see anything, 't was all as usual.”
Pattic shrugged and concluded: “Must've been a small bust, or maybe even a routine check... Man, don't you think the Reafs are too much on our tails? I mean, when do we get a say in things?”
Tarrmis chuckled.
“You know they just send the Rezzies after every form of resistance they run into. We'll never get a say in things, be grateful we still get to hunt.”
Pattic stopped in his tracks and looked Tarrmis into his eyes.
“What if I told you not all resistance is crushed?”
Tarrmis tilted his head.
“What do you mean?”
Pattic reached into his pocket, and pulled out a communicator.
Tarrmis looked at the device in amazement.

“Where did a comm permit? Reafs don't give those to anyone! Not since the incident at Point Fifteen.”
“I didn't get a permit. But I did get a comm. It's tuned to a frequency the Resistance operates on.”
“You're with the Resistance?”
“Look, Tarrmis, I'm only telling you this because I trust you. We both know you're not too fond of the Reafs either. You can't tell anyone about this. I need your help, though.”
“What could you or the Resistance possibly need my help for?”
Pattic sighed.
“The Baslar Saurton Resistance runs its ops at Point Eleven. But the Resistance channel comes from somewhere in Macor. Sadly, no one at Point Eleven speaks Macorian. Better yet; you're the only one I know who has ever been to Macor, and can speak both Baslarian and Macorian.”
“I thought Point Eleven was destroyed by a meteor.”
“Appearantly the underground was kept intact, but the Reafs don't know.”
Tarrmis turned his head to the sensor again.
“I see... So you need a translator so you two can communicate.”
“Tarrmis, you can help us free Essowyn from the Reafs. No more Rezzies, no more checkpoints, no more permit-”
“Pattic!”
Tarrmis grabbed Pattic by his shoulder.
“Pattic, I can't risk my family. Life is fine, we get to hunt, we get to eat, we get to sleep.”
“I understand you want to keep your family safe, but we can't keep living like this. Do you want your son to grow up in a world ruled by fear? Us Saurtons are not meant to be afraid.”

Tarrmis let go of Pattic and looked at the comm device.
“I can't even get to the Outlands without a permit, how could I possibly help?”
“Don't worry, I can get a permit. How else could I have gotten a comm?”
Tarrmis looked away, across the plains.
“I understand if you don't want to help, you have a family to take care of. Just take this comm. Contact me on the primary frequency if you feel ready.”
“I can't promise anyth-”
“Just take the damn comm.”
Tarrmis took the communicator and slid it into his pocket. The rest of the hunt, the two didn't speak, they just caught their prey and headed back home separately.

Back home, later that night, Tarrmis contemplated over whether he should help Pattic or not. Suddenly the comm crackled.
“Tarrmis? Tarrmis, are you there?”
Quickly he grabbed the comm and pushed the microphone button.
“I'm here. I've thought about it, and I will help you.”
“I hoped you would. Can you meet me out front? I've gotten you an Outland and Night permit.”
“Why at this hour?”
“Macor just woke up, we're picking up a lot of chatter down here.”

After a four hour drive, the speeder quietly came to a halt at Point Eleven. Pattic grabbed a flash light and seemed to communicate a light signal by turning it on and off at different intervals. Four Saurton with axes and rifles stepped out of the woods. They greeted Pattic with a friendly tone, before shining a flash light into Tarrmis' face.
“He's the translator.” Pattic said quickly.
When Tarrmis' vision recovered he saw Pattic and the four other Saurton walk off into the woods, and quickly caught up with them. Deep into the woods they stopped. The place seemed rather uninteresting until one of the Saurtons reached for the ground and opened a hidden hatch. Along a long and steep stairway, they descended into the Baslar Saurton Resistance base.

As they walked through the base Tarrmis noticed the many men and women who had joined this resistance, some he knew from work. When they finally arrived at the communications centre a big armoured Saurton was waiting for them.
“Welcome, Tarrmis, to the Baslar Saurton Resistance base. I am Ferlit, leader of this operation. First, let me thank you for agreeing to do this. I know what you are putting at risk. When the revolution comes, you will be known as a hero.”
“Let's just get this over with, I want to get back to my family.”
Ferlit nodded and showed him to the Macor receiver.
“Just translate whatever they are saying, or what we want to ask them.”

Tarrmis listened closely to the chatter translating quickly.
“They're saying: 'This is the Macor Underground, Macor Hunting Site Fourty, this is a message to everyone outside of Reaver communications...' Then they whisper something in the background about it being obvious, seeing as no one would check these frequencies unless someone from the Resistance would have told them. 'You are not alone. We are not alone. From the chatter in sectors Alpha through Pi we've heard that there is also a resistance group on Baslar... Beslar, if you can hear me now. We are organizing a strike here, from Site Fourty, in three days we will take the capital. March as we do, for a global revolution. The Reavers won't know what hit them, and Essowyn will be free.' And then the message repeats itsself.”
Ferlit patted Tarrmis on the shoulder.
“This is great news, my friend... You have done your part, now we will do ours.”
“Where's Pattic?”
“He went outside for some fresh air.”

A minute later Tarrmis was back outside, where he saw Pattic walking toward him.
“Did you hear the message Pattic?”
“Loud and clear, and now, so have the Reafs.”
Tarrmis' heart jumped.
“The Reavers? How do they-”
“Because I told them, Tarrmis. Couldn't have done it without your help.”
“You betrayed them?”
“You were right, Tarrmis, we don't live too bad a life. Even less so now. For getting rid of his petty resistance they are going to put me up high in Baslar Hunting.”
The skies roared as Reaver landing parties touched down at Point Eleven.
“They knew, Tarrmis, they knew of the Resistance here. They just needed to know the location of the Macor base. Now, thanks to you, the last of the Resistance will be wiped out.”
Pattic turned away from Tarrmis and walked a few paces, chuckling. Tarrmis turned his head to the base, Reaver after Reaver marched in as muffled shots were heard. He looked back at Pattic and stepped toward him.
“I bet the Reavers will be thankful for you too. Your family can be free, get all the permits and food you want.”
“You betrayed my trust.”
Pattic faced Tarrmis again.
“Is that how you thank me?”
“No,” Tarrmis whispered, “this is how I thank you.”
Tarrmis swiftly swung his axe into Pattic's head, which split right open, making him fall to the ground. Blood ran through the forest floor as Tarrmis ran back to his speeder.

Driving past the checkpoints Tarrmis figured the Reavers didn't know about him, and he set the speeder beside his house. The streets were completely silent. He opened the door and closed it behind him, after he stepped in. Taking a few paces he reached the light switch, and flicked the lights on. Across from him he saw his wife and son sitting on the ground, at gunpoint of a group of Zealots, their mouths taped shut. He felt a sharp pain in his back and blacked out.

When Tarrmis came to he saw sitting tied to a chair across from his wife and son. A Zealot commander stepped in front of him.
“It's not hard to abide the laws, Tarrmis. Appearently your son feels that is not true.”
The man paced toward Tarrmis' son, putting a head on his head.
“We found the boy showing off with a communicator to his friends. Apparently he had gotten it from his father. This, of course, is just a minor offence to the Reavers.”
The commander put his hand around his wife's neck.
“While your son was out parading with his little toy, you murdered one of our operatives, and I'm afraid such an offence we cannot ignore.” He smirked.
The commander took a few paces, inspecting his bat when he suddenly smacked Tarrmis' wife in the chest. Another Reaver forced Tarrmis to look while his wife and son were slowly beaten to death by the other Reavers. The laughs of the Reavers pierced Tarrmis' mind. Finally the Reavers left the house, whilst Tarrmis was still tied up in the chair. He looked at the bodies of his wife and child the images still burned into his mind.

The next day the Reavers returned, taking Tarrmis to a Reaver facility, putting him in a dark room with only some meat and water. Tarrmis' mind was broken, and the only way he could deal with what the Reavers had done, was to become one. When he was finally let out of his cell, he gladly received the training and became like every Reaver; cold and ruthless. When finally he became a Zealot and took to the streets of his town, the Saurtons looked at him as a traitor to his kind, he had become what he had despised, a Rezzie, and many lost hope for a future in which they could be free
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