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ChronicOrh'ruruur
Orh'ruruur
| {Age} |26
| {Species} |Human
| {Gender} |Male
| {Force Sensitive/Alignment} |
No
| {Appearance} |Standing at 5'4" and as thin as a whip, it would be easy to tell that Orh'ruruur doesn't eat often even at a glance. While as fit as a Tusken ought to be, he is most certainly not reaping the rewards of civilization in gaining a great deal of weight. Garbed as per his people's custom, it's hard to tell he's not quite cut from the same cloth as his fellows. A pair of heavy, black gloves and a number of what appear to be beads on cord about his wrists set the figure apart from many others, as well as a pair of macrobinoculars perpetually hung from his neck. A small black book seems to also be in his hands often, as well as a lead pencil.
| {Equipment and Personal Belongings} |Personal
Once a vessel trawling the Trianii territories before the Corporate Sector Authority took that section of space, since then it has passed from hand to hand until finally ending up in the hands of Corellian smugglers on Ambria. It looks exceptionally worn, with a patched and re-patched hull several times over along the craft’s entire length. Several portions of the ship are painted differently while the sensor dishes which once dotted the entire vessel have been removed entirely. A number of more significant modifications have been made, as the patrol ship’s two turbolaser turrets have been replaced with octuple laser cannon turrets controlled by the pilot while, forward of the turrets, two concussion missile launchers have been sunk into the hull.
Aboard Dawn Seeker
| {Physical Abilities} |- ”Flash” 4 Blaster Pistol
- FWG-5 Flechette Smart Pistol
- Gaderffii
- Translation Droid / Commlink, handheld
- Macrobinoculars
- Tusken Lamellar Armor
Built from scavenged durasteel cut out into squares and linked together by cord, Orh’ruruur wears his outside of the inner robe and a small, brown jerkin made from toughened bantha hide. While not the most comfortable and somewhat lacking compared to beskar and cortosis, it does serve to dissuade more mundane threats from fully killing him.
Once a vessel trawling the Trianii territories before the Corporate Sector Authority took that section of space, since then it has passed from hand to hand until finally ending up in the hands of Corellian smugglers on Ambria. It looks exceptionally worn, with a patched and re-patched hull several times over along the craft’s entire length. Several portions of the ship are painted differently while the sensor dishes which once dotted the entire vessel have been removed entirely. A number of more significant modifications have been made, as the patrol ship’s two turbolaser turrets have been replaced with octuple laser cannon turrets controlled by the pilot while, forward of the turrets, two concussion missile launchers have been sunk into the hull.
Aboard Dawn Seeker
- Modified Cycler Rifle
Well-maintained and cared for, Orh'ruruur's rifle is notably cut down in length, possessing still only the singular magnetic pulse accelerator to aid the shot. To compensate for the lesser barrel length, he instead uses a more robust chamber with far more of an explosive charge to initially fire the round. Both the rear grip and the foregrip are wrapped in faded green cloth. - Modified Prax Arms Sweeper
Built as a simple break-action, double barrel shotgun for cheap, easy pest control, Orh'ruruur has modified this weapon into a more personable tool. Cut down in barrel length with the stock reshapes into a simple grip, it is far more a pistol than anything else. An array of two magnetic pulse accelerators have been fitted, however, turning the hail of shot into something more deadly when up close and personal. - Arakyd Industries Model 86 Swoop Bike
Built for the enterprising Tarisian swoop racer by an enterprising company before it realized a severe self failing, the Model 86 resembles an engine underslung to a long pole. With small, rectangular aerofoils forward and aft and a suite of repulsorlifts to compensate for the weight, the swoop utilizes a ray shield in flight to reduce air drag. Supremely uncomfortable without modification and far less glamorous to the average racer, it would become relegated to less reputable groups as a high flying, fast airspeeder for the less cautious. In the hands of Orh'ruruur, it has become even more so with more powerful repulsorlifts, a more comfortable seating arrangement for high speeds, and a sensor suite ripped from an AD maintenance droid to provide some semblance of navigation.
Tusken Traditions
A good eye, a steady hand, and an unflinching heart are among the tenets of the Tusken way which Orh'ruruur takes to well. He is a good enough shot, though prefers the close in fight to anything else. In all other terms, by all other metrics, the young Tusken is a good enough warrior to keep his wits about him when the blaster bolts start flying.
Maintaining Your Own
Maintenance isn't just an action of necessity to him, but a spiritual declaration that this is a task which Tuskens can do, that this is a task which Tuskens can equal all others in. Due to this, Orh'ruruur throws himself fully into understanding the practical aspects of his equipment, his tools, and his ship, and so then understanding how to fix it all when things fail him. While such ubiquity in skill is hard to achieve, he has nonetheless proven to be a capable mechanic for the less immediately lethal issues, and knowledgeable enough to stall the more lethal issues until he can reach a real mechanic.
Pilot
Tuskens can't pilot a starship is the generally accepted rule of life, but of course Orh'ruruur has a foot in both worlds. While he is no practiced dogfighter, nor as skilled in avoiding danger as a smuggler, the Tusken can pilot his ship independently enough. He isn't versed in evasive maneuvers, of course, but with a ship like his he doesn't have to be.
| {Limitations} |A good eye, a steady hand, and an unflinching heart are among the tenets of the Tusken way which Orh'ruruur takes to well. He is a good enough shot, though prefers the close in fight to anything else. In all other terms, by all other metrics, the young Tusken is a good enough warrior to keep his wits about him when the blaster bolts start flying.
Maintaining Your Own
Maintenance isn't just an action of necessity to him, but a spiritual declaration that this is a task which Tuskens can do, that this is a task which Tuskens can equal all others in. Due to this, Orh'ruruur throws himself fully into understanding the practical aspects of his equipment, his tools, and his ship, and so then understanding how to fix it all when things fail him. While such ubiquity in skill is hard to achieve, he has nonetheless proven to be a capable mechanic for the less immediately lethal issues, and knowledgeable enough to stall the more lethal issues until he can reach a real mechanic.
Pilot
Tuskens can't pilot a starship is the generally accepted rule of life, but of course Orh'ruruur has a foot in both worlds. While he is no practiced dogfighter, nor as skilled in avoiding danger as a smuggler, the Tusken can pilot his ship independently enough. He isn't versed in evasive maneuvers, of course, but with a ship like his he doesn't have to be.
Alone In Crowds
Not quite Tusken, not quite outworlder, Orh'ruruur remains relatively separate from many of the goings-on back home due to his seemingly radical natures. Aside from a number of craftsmen on Mandalore, he remains the Tusken outsider, mistrusted in all things, while aside from his immediate family on Ambria he is the strange tinkerer, touched in the head to work with things they don't fully understand. As such, in many things Orh'ruruur remains inwardly drawn and self-isolationist, preferring to fix his own problems.
The Impatient Hunter
One waits for their prey to arrive and, in this, Orh'ruruur never quite learned the lesson. He is active, mobile, and aggressive, and in very few ways a patient individual. If there is an enemy now, to go fight it before it discovers you is the preferred option. If you cannot fight it now, there is a failing of quality in how you fight, not a failing in the way you fight.
Not quite Tusken, not quite outworlder, Orh'ruruur remains relatively separate from many of the goings-on back home due to his seemingly radical natures. Aside from a number of craftsmen on Mandalore, he remains the Tusken outsider, mistrusted in all things, while aside from his immediate family on Ambria he is the strange tinkerer, touched in the head to work with things they don't fully understand. As such, in many things Orh'ruruur remains inwardly drawn and self-isolationist, preferring to fix his own problems.
The Impatient Hunter
One waits for their prey to arrive and, in this, Orh'ruruur never quite learned the lesson. He is active, mobile, and aggressive, and in very few ways a patient individual. If there is an enemy now, to go fight it before it discovers you is the preferred option. If you cannot fight it now, there is a failing of quality in how you fight, not a failing in the way you fight.
| {Personality} |
Active, mobile, and severely desiring practical experience, Orh'ruruur's hands are never idle and his mind is never still. He is aggressive in the belief that any action another can perform, a Tusken can do just as well, and that any task he sees another perform which he cannot is a challenge not merely to him but to that idea as a whole. As a result, there is little which Orh'ruruur is hesitant to attempt. Due to these traits, and a willingness to fix dangerous equipment not fully understood, the young Tusken has earned a reputation and a slight shunning about him. He is not fast to make friends, though to those who are already friends, such as the craftsmen he worked under, he is as loyal as can be.
| {Place of Origin} |Mos Kayis | Jundland Wastes, Tatooine
| {Background} |Born on Tatooine to the tail-end of the clan’s time on that desert homeworld, Orh’ruruur’s early life under a different name would be, largely, among a settlement known as Mos Kayis. His parents would be killed at a young age, when he was only around three years or so, as the settlement had housed a number of Republic-aligned smugglers. Hidden by his parents during the CIS attack, the tiny baby would be discovered by a scouting party of a nearby Tusken camp. The chieftain of that camp, Urh’otrr’kur, was among the group as this was far before the clan had come into conflict with the Confederates and the actions of the newcomers still merited a degree of observation.
Adopted in this way and soon thereafter named, he experienced a rather traditional Tusken childhood with only a few exceptions. Such was Tusken culture, after all, that to many he simply was Tusken with no argument brokered. He initially struggled somewhat with the massiffs, scent-driven as such beasts were, and had little difficulty with the banthas. He proved a fast learner with mending items here and there, from a young age becoming interested in the inner workings of cycler rifles, the ways gaderffi were made and if what, and other such technical workings. He would accompany his father to many meetings with smugglers, slowly coming to know when items worked properly, when they did not, and when they had been made to seem like they were working. With these jaunts, in time Orh'ruruur garnered a rudimentary, if at times flawed, understanding of the language used by the smugglers, the words exchanged when issues went well or poorly. He grew slowly in his usefulness to the clan, even as they had begun to perform ambushes against CIS patrols. The brief flash of victories would be soon soured when they began to hunt from the air, immune to anything carried by Tusken hands. Orh'ruruur would seek his own methods to fix this issue, despite his age as he soon approached his coming of age ritual.
When the desperate smugglers approached the Tuskens, Orh'ruruur would be among those to recognize the worth of what was offered. In contrast with his father, however, the young Tusken quickly took it upon himself to test the proffered MANPADS, aged though they were. In a twisted version of that ritual, he downed no less than three Vulture droids in a week from the crags of the Jundlands, quickly following his father in the following sieges and battles. They struck stronghold after stronghold of the CIS, seemingly wounding their hold on the world, and Orh'ruruur was among those few to advocate for their stay on Tatooine. With the right help, the right strength, the Tusken seemed to be able to resist the invaders, be able to hold what had always been theirs. His father dissuaded him after many an argument, however, the scope of the enemy seemingly eclipsing all which might be gathered against it. In the end, he would board the transport with the rest of the clan, leaving Tatooine.
Their journey was long and hard, though in the absence of the known Orh'ruruur proved to be adaptable. He soon plundered every database he could, interrogated every droid aboard the vessel, and grew to slowly learn the intricacies of the ship, navigation, and the most major tenets of the galaxy. There seemed to be so much to discover, so much to do, and the old Tusken systems of distrust in the foreign metal, the starship, the cultures all appeared to slowly fade away. They could prove their worth to an unknowing galaxy who seemed to think of them merely as savages, incapable of technology or worthwhile action, and prove their strength as masters of the tasks every other species seemed to perform as easily as breathing. In this, Orh'ruruur soon gathered a small following among the younger of the Tuskens against which long entrenched culture had not fully grasped.
Their landing at Ambria would discourage the young man to some degree, so alone was the clan that they feared that the clan would continue in its old habits and be targeted by outsiders in their isolation from the known, from the comfortable, from the Jundland. They scoured the nearby sands for anything and everything interesting, the faintest sign of others, while Orh'ruruur worked with the few droids aboard their transport to receive any possible transmissions from such offworlders as at least a notional warning. As a direct result, these radicals were among the first to discover the smuggler meetings on that world. They pushed for the approaches with these smugglers, and despite getting the worse half of the deal were happy enough with the results. Soon enough they had sensors, speeder bikes, and some amount of spare parts. With a little bit of effort, he even began to get his hands on manuals, self-guided mechanics courses, and some basic books for mathematics. Painfully, with the constant help of a protocol droid, the young Tusken set about to learn something of what he had gained, something that he could one day master, one day perfect.
The removal of the smugglers would prove far more a boon than a curse, however, as the Corellian agents were forced to leave a heavily damaged ship due to a rapid call offworld in pursuit of more tax dodgers. As such, they instead succeeded in wiping the ship's navigation computer and scrambling its hyperdrive startup procedures, intending to return and finish the job. Orh'ruruur leapt on the opportunity, leading a small band of warriors to capture the ship and move it to a rocky area before camouflaging the vessel. The ruse would work and he set himself on working to restore the vessel, much to the derision of many of his fellows as they viewed each setback as a potential ending to the whole project. There would be multiple times when his father approached, offering up caution when dealing with such things that might literally blow up in his face, though Orh’ruruur would largely ignore such things.
He slowly bled his following, even as his father left Ambria to go and petition offworlders aboard one of the captured vessels they had taken on Tatooine. The young son in some ways wanted to go to space in that vessel, to go and see another world different to the sand dunes, but he felt as though the work was something more. Orh’ruruur wanted to do as they did, to repair as they did and make what was broken fixed. To simply use another’s product, without knowing how to fix it correctly and fully, was a Jawa’s nature, a parasite’s nature, and so therefore was beneath him. He worked for weeks after the shuttle had gone off and away, weeks with little company save for a borrowed protocol droid to work with in clarifying points here and there on the vessel. The work to restore damaged sections of the hull was comparatively easy to the technical difficulties presented by the Corellian sabotage. Eventually, he transferred navigational data from the transport to the craft, and some time after that, restored the startup procedures. The vessel, while not pretty, was repaired and he could only compare it to a new day, a new dawn, and so named it accordingly.
Since then, Orh’ruruur has continued to make strides alongside his father, garnering the ire of some of his brothers as he has helped to ferry delegations to Mandalore. Unlike Urh’otrr’kur, however, he has taken a far more hands-on approach compared to requesting teachers and aid to Ambria, instead working for free wherever possible with mechanics, starship maintainers, and armorers to develop his own knowledge. While such a thing is difficult, as the pool of prospective teachers is slim, he nonetheless has persevered in attempting to broaden his own capabilities. To the Tusken, every task which an outsider can perform that he does not know is a challenge, a declaration that there is yet something left to learn and raise himself up to.
Adopted in this way and soon thereafter named, he experienced a rather traditional Tusken childhood with only a few exceptions. Such was Tusken culture, after all, that to many he simply was Tusken with no argument brokered. He initially struggled somewhat with the massiffs, scent-driven as such beasts were, and had little difficulty with the banthas. He proved a fast learner with mending items here and there, from a young age becoming interested in the inner workings of cycler rifles, the ways gaderffi were made and if what, and other such technical workings. He would accompany his father to many meetings with smugglers, slowly coming to know when items worked properly, when they did not, and when they had been made to seem like they were working. With these jaunts, in time Orh'ruruur garnered a rudimentary, if at times flawed, understanding of the language used by the smugglers, the words exchanged when issues went well or poorly. He grew slowly in his usefulness to the clan, even as they had begun to perform ambushes against CIS patrols. The brief flash of victories would be soon soured when they began to hunt from the air, immune to anything carried by Tusken hands. Orh'ruruur would seek his own methods to fix this issue, despite his age as he soon approached his coming of age ritual.
When the desperate smugglers approached the Tuskens, Orh'ruruur would be among those to recognize the worth of what was offered. In contrast with his father, however, the young Tusken quickly took it upon himself to test the proffered MANPADS, aged though they were. In a twisted version of that ritual, he downed no less than three Vulture droids in a week from the crags of the Jundlands, quickly following his father in the following sieges and battles. They struck stronghold after stronghold of the CIS, seemingly wounding their hold on the world, and Orh'ruruur was among those few to advocate for their stay on Tatooine. With the right help, the right strength, the Tusken seemed to be able to resist the invaders, be able to hold what had always been theirs. His father dissuaded him after many an argument, however, the scope of the enemy seemingly eclipsing all which might be gathered against it. In the end, he would board the transport with the rest of the clan, leaving Tatooine.
Their journey was long and hard, though in the absence of the known Orh'ruruur proved to be adaptable. He soon plundered every database he could, interrogated every droid aboard the vessel, and grew to slowly learn the intricacies of the ship, navigation, and the most major tenets of the galaxy. There seemed to be so much to discover, so much to do, and the old Tusken systems of distrust in the foreign metal, the starship, the cultures all appeared to slowly fade away. They could prove their worth to an unknowing galaxy who seemed to think of them merely as savages, incapable of technology or worthwhile action, and prove their strength as masters of the tasks every other species seemed to perform as easily as breathing. In this, Orh'ruruur soon gathered a small following among the younger of the Tuskens against which long entrenched culture had not fully grasped.
Their landing at Ambria would discourage the young man to some degree, so alone was the clan that they feared that the clan would continue in its old habits and be targeted by outsiders in their isolation from the known, from the comfortable, from the Jundland. They scoured the nearby sands for anything and everything interesting, the faintest sign of others, while Orh'ruruur worked with the few droids aboard their transport to receive any possible transmissions from such offworlders as at least a notional warning. As a direct result, these radicals were among the first to discover the smuggler meetings on that world. They pushed for the approaches with these smugglers, and despite getting the worse half of the deal were happy enough with the results. Soon enough they had sensors, speeder bikes, and some amount of spare parts. With a little bit of effort, he even began to get his hands on manuals, self-guided mechanics courses, and some basic books for mathematics. Painfully, with the constant help of a protocol droid, the young Tusken set about to learn something of what he had gained, something that he could one day master, one day perfect.
The removal of the smugglers would prove far more a boon than a curse, however, as the Corellian agents were forced to leave a heavily damaged ship due to a rapid call offworld in pursuit of more tax dodgers. As such, they instead succeeded in wiping the ship's navigation computer and scrambling its hyperdrive startup procedures, intending to return and finish the job. Orh'ruruur leapt on the opportunity, leading a small band of warriors to capture the ship and move it to a rocky area before camouflaging the vessel. The ruse would work and he set himself on working to restore the vessel, much to the derision of many of his fellows as they viewed each setback as a potential ending to the whole project. There would be multiple times when his father approached, offering up caution when dealing with such things that might literally blow up in his face, though Orh’ruruur would largely ignore such things.
He slowly bled his following, even as his father left Ambria to go and petition offworlders aboard one of the captured vessels they had taken on Tatooine. The young son in some ways wanted to go to space in that vessel, to go and see another world different to the sand dunes, but he felt as though the work was something more. Orh’ruruur wanted to do as they did, to repair as they did and make what was broken fixed. To simply use another’s product, without knowing how to fix it correctly and fully, was a Jawa’s nature, a parasite’s nature, and so therefore was beneath him. He worked for weeks after the shuttle had gone off and away, weeks with little company save for a borrowed protocol droid to work with in clarifying points here and there on the vessel. The work to restore damaged sections of the hull was comparatively easy to the technical difficulties presented by the Corellian sabotage. Eventually, he transferred navigational data from the transport to the craft, and some time after that, restored the startup procedures. The vessel, while not pretty, was repaired and he could only compare it to a new day, a new dawn, and so named it accordingly.
Since then, Orh’ruruur has continued to make strides alongside his father, garnering the ire of some of his brothers as he has helped to ferry delegations to Mandalore. Unlike Urh’otrr’kur, however, he has taken a far more hands-on approach compared to requesting teachers and aid to Ambria, instead working for free wherever possible with mechanics, starship maintainers, and armorers to develop his own knowledge. While such a thing is difficult, as the pool of prospective teachers is slim, he nonetheless has persevered in attempting to broaden his own capabilities. To the Tusken, every task which an outsider can perform that he does not know is a challenge, a declaration that there is yet something left to learn and raise himself up to.
