Wroloch
Scion of Togoria
Mines outside New Caross Labor Camp, Togoria
Scorched land, as far as the eye can see; green grasslands were turned into barren plains, void of life. The land was sodden with Togorian blood, the silent wailing of thousands of extinguished souls echoing through the Force, only to be felt by one single individual who was unfortunate enough to be still alive. The bombings that were orchestrated by the fearsome Empire were mainly aimed at settlements, where they exterminated all of Wroloch's kin. When the Sith were done ravaging Caross and the surrounding villages, hunting parties were organized to capture Togorian males who lived as nomads in the wilderness. The Emperor had a different plan for them; the gargantuan felines would serve as slaves in mines, digging out ores which would be used to power the One Sith warmachine. Yet, the Togorian warriors would not go quietly into the night, and much resources were spent to subjugate them. Finally, the remainder of them was taken to the mines in the mountains just outside of New Caross, where a prison colony was built upon the ashes of Togorian capital. A life of toil and slave labor awaited the once proud race, reduced to nothing but the smallest cogs in Kaine Zambrano's vile plan to shroud the galaxy in darkness of his iron-fisted reign.Wroloch was oblivious to the grand design he was a part of; instead, he pulled the cart loaded with mineral ore out of the mine, singlehandedly handling more than a tonne of material. His herculean muscles flexed as he hauled the wagon along the tracks, before an officer stopped him, tapping his thigh with a electrical batton stick. A shock was sent through Wroloch's entire body, pearly white incisors clenching and a deep growl escaping his maw. He glared at the man beside him, then erected himself to full height, chains in which was bound rattling in the process.
"This is the one." the officer proclaimed, then gave command to a platoon of men who pointed blasters at the towering Togorian - "Take him to the tent. My superiors have other intentions for him."
With much reluctance, Wroloch was forced to walk across the mountainside camp to the leather tent used by staff, merely to shield them from the sizzling sun. The feline had to crouch when he entered, his massive frame unfit for the dimensions of yurt. After all, it was built for humans, not Togorians. Once he was chained to the floor, a pot of clear water was left by his side. Wroloch's eyes widened at the sight of water; it was three days since he last had a drink of any liquid. He rammed his entire maw inside the metallic bucket and began drinking with loud slurps and gulps, too preoccupied with quenching his thirst to overhear the conversation between officers just outside of the tent.
"Whatever we'd hit him with, there would be no effect." one of the explained - "He'd just...rise after we fired an entire round of blaster shots into him. Wounds closed almost instantly."
"Do you think he's a Jedi?" the other one asked.
"I don't know. But I had him tested for midichlorians and once the results came back, I sent them up. They requested I single him out immediately. Somebody from headquarters above wanted to see for themselves...." the officer retorted before the conversation between them was interrupted by the roar of starship engines from above them.
