[Story] Character of the Week – Omarran
May 9, 2018 Leave a comment
[[ Omarran is my Sith Juggernaut, I made him a Cathar because I thought it would be funny, without any regard to lore. I ended up liking him a lot so I had to come up with some sort of background for him! ]]
Omarran could see the change in their strange hairless faces, the moment when they realized what he was. If they could not respect him, at least they could fear him. When they took him away for training, the others of his clan gathered around him hopefully. Don’t forget us, they said. Make them understand. Omarran vowed that he would, and he had never forgotten his promise.
He had clawed his way past his rivals and was now afford some regard among the Empire. It wasn’t so different from the jungles in a lot of ways. He had been sought out by name by a particular Darth, and had been granted use of a vessel for the time being. Omarran had also been given a gift, of sorts — a twi’lek slave. The sight of the device around her neck turned his stomach; he’d seen the same bring the fearsome warriors of his clan to heel. As soon as they were away from the monitors of Dromund Kaas, he removed the wretched thing, hardly wanting to even touch it. The twi’lek rubbed her neck and looked at him warily. “Thanks,” she said, but she did not ask his reasons, and he didn’t feel like explaining them anyway.
The vessel was imposing, even on the inside. It felt far too large and empty with only them aboard, plus the steward droid. Everything was sleek and shiny, impersonal and sterile. Vette asked if she could move things around, and Omarran readily agreed. He couldn’t very well just leave her somewhere. It would be far more dangerous for her to travel alone in Imperial space, she would no doubt be seized the moment she stepped onto a planet. She must have realized that too, unpleasant though the situation might be, she never tried to escape or asked to be taken somewhere else. Partners, he’d told her. Not a master. He wasn’t like them, and he’d prove it.
Though she could have taken any of the empty chambers, Vette claimed the one nearest the engine room. It must have been impossibly loud for sleeping, but perhaps she found the sound familiar. Or maybe it was to drown out the holos she played late at night. Either way, he tried to avoid that section of the ship — it was hers and he did not wish to intrude. Even so, she had been aboard for some time, and maybe they could talk. She was so much more genuine and immediate than most he’d encountered in the Empire, probably because — like him — she didn’t really belong there. Members of his own species were exceedingly rare, and some days the loneliness was almost too much to bear. He hadn’t been willing to admit that to himself before, but he found it easier now.
He peered around the corner into the engine room. Vette sat cross-legged on her bunk, an assortment of holos scattered around her. Omarran couldn’t tell from afar what they were, but the one currently playing was a band playing upbeat music at a rather loud volume. Her ear cones were covered, so he waved to try to get her attention.
Vette removed the ear covers, looking sheepish. “Oh, hey. I was just–” she gestured toward the monitor system. “Uh, waiting for the scan to complete.”
Omarran looked at the monitor. There was, in fact, a scan in progress. “It’s fine. You’re allowed to take a break.”
Her face scrunched up as she regarded him. “You’re the strangest Sith I’ve ever met.”
“I’m not a Sith.” And just how many had she met, anyway? She didn’t cower in fear of him, or anyone. It was unusual, but also refreshing.
“No? Could’ve fooled me.” Vette clapped the headphones back over her ear cones. “Got the lightsaber and everything.”
Omarran frowned faintly. She had a point. As much as he told himself he was just going along for his own goals, did it really matter if the perception was the same? Didn’t people cower before him, regardless? He didn’t like it, in fact he hated it. It had been something of a novelty at first, but now he could only imagine it was himself at the Sith’s mercy — or someone like Vette. It wasn’t right.
“I’m not–” he paused. “Like them.”
Vette bobbed her head along with the band playing on the holo. Even with her headphones on, he could hear it, the lower tones rumbling the metal grate beneath their feet. Had she even heard him? She gave a little shrug, and a half smile, but didn’t say anything else.
He would prove it, he vowed. Not just to her, but to the whole of the Empire.
The Dancing Hare 