Teran Miransi
"Loyalty or death. There is no middle ground. The galaxy can't afford one." TN-110
Sex: Male
Age: 22
Homeworld: Onderon
Rank: Private
Role: Heavy Weapons Operator
Callsign: Tens
Appearance: Teran is a trooper on the taller side of the spectrum, clocking in at 72 inches tall and weighing a hefty 186 pounds by Imperial measurement standards. The young man is built bulky as a rule, broad in the shoulders and chest and thick in the arms with muscle, a combination of good genes and rigorous conditioning brought on by his tenure at the Imperial academy. The rough olive skin of a laborer stands in stark contrast to the near luminescent white of his plastoid armor, though his clean shaven face and close trimmed, black hair mirror the uniformity and order that his uniform, and the Corp itself, are built upon. His eyes are dark and brown, adopting and willful, deterministic stare alight with zeal for the Empire and a deep desire to see it's dissidents torn down.
Equipment: - T-21 Light Repeating Blaster with accompanying backpack mounted generator.
- SE-14C Light Repeating Blaster in leg holster.
- Standard issue Stormtrooper armor, complete with temperature controlled body glove and environmental protections.
- Standard issue utility belt, omitting E-11 blaster packs for ones befitting his primary weapon.
Psychological Analysis: Backstory: The planet Onderon was no stranger to the effects of rebellion, even before the New Order rose from the ashes of the Republic. During the Clone Wars, the duplicitous King Sanjay Rash sold his people to the Confederacy of Independent Systems, and brought destruction to their doorstep when this betrayal spawned rebellion among the populace. A boy of only five at the time, Teran has few memories of the Onderonian civil war. A few fleeting wisps of images long gone, of bug-like battle droids marching down the streets of Iziz while his mother shepherded him in doors, or the faint rumbles on conflict that shook his bed in the night and stirred him from sleep. One could say that these rebels were just in their cause, rising against a monarch who betrayed the wishes of his people, with the noble goal of freeing Onderon from an oppressive foreign regime. Those who would claim such did not live on Onderon in the years that would follow Sanjay's deposition with the rumored assistance of the Jedi.
With the defeat of the separatists came the rise of the Galactic Empire, whose influence quickly took root on Onderon as the Republic's had done before conflict engulfed the planet. Filled with illusions of grandeur, the self-righteous rebellion that had fought to return Onderon to the fold quickly shifted its stance and formed themselves into a partisan group intent on splintering what fragile peace their homeworld had regained. Guerrilla warfare took place on a scale unprecedented even when battle droids roamed the planet's surface, and as the cause radicalized, those who might once have been saviors devolved into fanatics with no qualms for whose lives they took in their misguided attempt at breaking the Empire's hold.
Teran, for all his lacking in memory during earlier skirmishes, was certainly old enough to remember the day they stole his family from him. Both parents robbed from a youth twelve years of age in a speeder bombing meant to disrupt a nearby Imperial patrol, so the dissidents could launch an ambush in the resulting chaos. A senseless act of violence that left him orphaned, and forced to leave the city that he had known as home for the whole of his life to live with relatives out in the less secure border settlements that made up Onderon's jungleborn population. Many would be hopeless, despondent and wracked with grief in the face of such a loss at such an age. But in Teran, it did not crush his spirit. A headstrong boy, the loss of his beloved parents instead ingrained in him a deep loathing for these so called Partisans, and as an aside, for other rebellious cells like them across the galaxy. It served as both his greatest loss and greatest gain, for it took from him his normality and replaced it instead with a goal, an all consuming desire for take his vengeance on those who would so selfishly reject the Empire's peace.
So he plotted. As he arrived at his uncle's small plantation, he planned. As he worked the fields and mended high-frequency fences, he prepared. Years ticked by and old wounds healed. He lived, he laughed, he even loved from time to time as young men are wont to do. But every day was with purpose, to join that thin white line that divided those good Imperial folk from the chaos that bred in every dark nook and cranny of the galaxy. Chaos that sought to destroy the security so many had sacrificed so much for. Chaos which would do anything to achieve its ends, including the slaughter of the innocent and the righteous. By the time Teran had reached eighteen years of age in accordance to the Imperial dating system, he used what funds he could cobble together in the backwater of a war-torn jungle homestead and set off for the nearest Imperial academy.
