Jarrek Fenrir
Age: Nobody really knows, actually...Even he's stopped counting. But he knows he's at least a couple thousand years old by now. Gender:MaleRace:Basically human, though he's not from Earth. In truth, he shares the same species of Blaze Barren, though Blaze is far younger than Jarrek.Place Of Birth:A planet which is no longer there...OCCUPATION:Lord of the Kalak Cutthroats, also known as the Wolf Pack Personality: Jarrek is a bit odd...He's a pirate, yes, but he believes in honor amongst thieves. Because of this, he is often willing to make deals with Pirates, even outside his own band, and especially with members of what he calls The Old Families; basically any bands of Pirates around as powerful as his, and as worthy of the title. By the same token, he doesn't often TRUST Pirates outside the Old Families, because they're newer, unknown elements; he hasn't fought against them, and doesn't know what to expect. Overall, he's a pretty well-to do person, and his crew generally like and respect him, especially considering he does all he can to keep them safe.
That being said, during battle, he's much different. His band isn't called the Wolf Pack, and he Fenrir, for nothing, after all. He usually focuses on encircling his foes, and wearing them down before boarding their ships(after all, they dont want to risk damaging the cargo). In hand-to-hand combat, he never fights fairly, often taking cheap hits where he can get them and the like, especially with his Plasma Claw.
Alliance:
UPA, of course. He's one of the Pirate Lords, after all.
Biography:
Jarrek was born on a lush, forested world a long time ago, in an age before many of the modern kingdoms of Earth. It was truly simply a fluke of nature that his species was almost exactly the same as that of humans, but in any case it happened. His society's civilization was advanced, yet tribal in structure, with connections to many of the surrounding systems, some hostile, but most peaceful. In his society, the last, or 'True' name was earned, so for much of his life he just went as 'Jarrek', which in his original language means roughly 'Fighting' or 'Great'. And for the first few years of his life, all was well. He went through school just fine, was assigned his caste(upper-class, meaning he could be anything from a exec to a politician if he really tried), and was just celebrating his caste-assignment/graduation with his friends...When they invaded.
They came in massive warships, not even attempting for peace, and dwarfing the fledgling empire's mere frigates and corvettes, dwarfed what they thought even possible. Massive metal ships the size of countries. Continents.
Planets.
Jerrek's civilization, his society, his way of life, it was all wiped out mercilessly. All of their empire's planets were in the same solar system, which meant that while reinforcements were quick to arrive to battles, they were all easy targets. In a effort of desperation, their comparatively tiny militia that was left from the devastation of the ruthless takeover holed out on the planet Jarrek lived on, and started herding the civilians onto their ships in preparation to evacuate. The plan was to make their way past the enemy forces, get out of their star system...And hope their allies were still alive. Once they were all ready, the ground teams, brave souls who decided to stay behind to make sure that the launch would be safe enough for those who were evacuating, began the countdown...And then, a siren blared. The invasionary force was there already, just seconds after the last planet fell! The countdown was bypassed instantly, and the ships were just launched without inputting coordinates, which of course wasn't a good idea. Who knew where they could end up, just drifting in the void of space!? Sure, there were other systems they knew of, but they'd never be able to find them without the navigation controls being readied, or the maps downloaded into the ships!
And so, they launched, sending radio messages to their unknown assailants basically saying that they were non-combat vessels.
Most were fired upon anyways.
Those that got out, his ship included, were lost. There wasn't a surviving leader-caste person from the last attack. Well...Except him, that was, though he had no experience leading. They all turned to him for support, which he gave, a little reluctantly at first. As they left further and further from their system, they found more vessels fleeing, from their neighboring systems, all hit much worse than their's. Jarrek's people had the most survivors, so when they all banded together, Jarrek was still the leader, just of a MUCH larger group. They eventually found a large asteroid in the Talar belt, which they(after much time) retrofitted to use as a makeshift living quarters. It wasn't fancy, it wasn't grandiose, but it was a place to rest their weary souls, a home after that time. It was large for a asteroid, but still small, so this shows exactly how little that horrible fleet left living, that they were able to survive together in the confines of a asteroid.
As they accepted Jarrek as their leader, they took in his own emotions, reflected what he felt. Anger, resentment, hatred...Not at the colony members or any of his subjects(many of whom were from previously hostile factions and now calling him leader! so very hard to believe for him...), but where it was deserved. And so they bided their time, building upon their newfound home, raising a culture amongst themselves, until they were certain a civilian foothold had been established. Jarrek then called everyone together, where he revealed that their ships had been outfitted with weaponry, and all of them were being called into service, with their new army branded as the Kalak Cutthroats(they knew what their galaxy's name was). A few questioned the name, to which he answered- They would not be a normal military unit. If they were, they would never survive. They were to become a militarized Pirate force, intent on bringing down the enemy empire by crushing its economy, swiftly and brutally. No mercy was to be shown upon their civilian targets, just as no mercy had been shown upon them.
And so, they set off, studying their enemy's trade routes, and attacking at the opportune time. All the while, they boarded enemy ships, preferring to take them than destroy them in order to add to their fleet once the new ships were weaponized. Most of their enemies cried. Some asked why. Others asked for pity. Their response was,"Where was our pity when you murdered our people? When you stole our planets?"
There was no mercy given to these people, except to babies, and children too young to understand. They were Pirates, Cutthroats, yes, and their purpose was revenge, but not mindless revenge. They would take in these children, give them a chance to lead decent lives amongst the victems of their parents.
Years passed, and enemy patrols were sent out with the civilians as escorts. But by then, they had not only better weapons, but superior numbers to the enemy escorts. More and more military hardware they accrued, by taking enemy vessels and turning them upon their former masters, all lead by Jarrek. He was at every battle possible, feeling it was his duty to do so.
Eventually, people from that empire just stopped moving around. They were too afraid of the Kalak Cutthroats to leave the safety of their planets. Their economy dwindled, died, and civil unrest began to turn as the government, separated from itself, established their own agendas. The civilization that destroyed Jarrek's people was gone, replaced by many smaller insignificant warring ones living where they used to be.
By now, they were, through and through, pirates. There was no going back to their previous lives, since they had no previous lives they could go back to. The Cutthroats grew larger and larger, warring with many of the other pirate factions, and came to be known as the Wolf Pack. During their fiercest battle to date, after the battle was ended, he met with the leader of the opposing pirate gang. It'd ended in a tie, so they agreed to meet to sort things out. But the person themself had no intention on negotiations, nor upon betrayal as one might think. They wished to commend Jarrek for his skills, and, knowing something of Jarrek's culture, asked if Jarrek would allow him the honor of giving Jarrek his Naming Ceremony...Where people in Jarrek's culture were given their last, their TRUE Names. Most of it, admittedly, was bull-sh*tted through, as the other captain had no idea how the hell the ceremony itself went, and neither did Jarrek, but he gave Jarrek a meaningful name-His name had been from the culture of a small, normally unregarded backwater planet in the Sol System-Fenrir, the Norse god. While Fenrir wasn't the god OF wolves, he was still a mighty, massive Wolf.
Not many important things happened, until the arrival of the Mechera Empire. In their early days in this dimension, the Mechera needed to establish secure routes for trade, and so they used military force to exact these as their own. During one of these battles, Jarrek was present. The ships fired at each other, but Jarrek's craft were much more maneuverable than the Mechera Brigade ships, and were able to dodge the enemy shots. Through careful precision, they were able to dock with the Mechera ships, forcing their way in. He led the charge, both one of his best and worst moves in his life.
The enemy captain of the vessel used Plasma Claw, one of the Mechera's oldest weapon designs. He valiantly faced off the Mechera captain, while their crews duked it out, and while Jarrek struck the decisive blow, destroying the opponent's core computer systems that allowed it to function, his arm was the price. As he was rushed back to heir base for medical treatment, they found it'd be impossible to reattach his original arm, from the fact that they just didn't have the technology. He told them to bring the remains of the machine, and after they studied it and told him their findings, said to use that. They asked if he was sure, to which he replied yes. It was excruciating, having to map his own neural pathways with the mechanical ones, and having to study the design so he'd be able to use it, but it worked. He had to train himself to use it, as it still wasn't exactly the same as his arm, but in some ways, it was better, none the least of which was the fact that the plasma claw was still intact and operable by his thoughts.
More time passed, and the empires grew stronger, much stronger. He knew that if the Pirate Clans kept fighting amongst themselves, that'd be the end of them. So he sent a message to all of the Pirates out there, to meet at the Talar Belt. He didn't give coordinates, as most every pirate knew that the Talar Belt was the domain of the Wolf Pack, and so when some answered his call, he negotiated with them, and formed...The UPA.
And so, the story of the rest of his life...Begins.
Weapons: - His arm, for one
- I guess you could say his entire fleet is his weapon, considering they're loyal to a fault
Magic Level:None, actually.
Fears:- Death
- Being captured
- Mutiny
At least three fears required.
Interests:- 1. Getting more treasure
- 2. Keeping his crew safe
- 3. Preserving the Alliance
- 4. Increasing the power of his fleet
- 5. He also likes socializing with his crew occasionally
- 6.
- 7
At least five interests are required.
Aspirations:- 1. To unite all Pirates under the banner of the UPA
- 2. To create a true peace between the Zealots, the Ravens, and his Wolf Pack
- 3. To become, along with the other Lords of the Old Families, the most powerful man alive.
- 4.
- 5.
- 6.
- 7
At least three aspirations are required.
ORIENTATION:StraightRELATIONSHIP/MARITIAL STATUS:SingleOTHER:Anything else we need to know?
