Jordana Jax

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Jordana Jax
98 lbs
Eye Color
Dark Brown
Hair Color
Home Planet
Kalin Jax, Deceased
Jarrett Jax, Deceased

"Diplomacy is the art of letting someone have your way."
―Jordana Jax

Post-Reset Biography
Jordana Jax
Zaloriis was untouched by the Empire for so long. It was only a matter of time before the far-reaching effects of its deadly skeletal tendrils marred the planet and forever changed the livelihoods of the normally peaceful peoples of the planet. For Jordana, the reality slap in the face was far more severe than even her vividly wild teenage imagination could ever conjure up. As a child, it became a bedtime ritual for her parents to check the closets, the drawers, and under her bed. She'd always believed and insisted that monsters were in fact ... real.

But none would believe her when she'd speak of the monsters beneath her bed or hiding in her closet. No one would listen when she said she saw a pair of eyes gazing at her from outside her bedroom window. Everyone, especially her parents, just brushed it off as nightmares or tricks of light caused by the moon's shine bouncing off the mirror hanging on the wall of her small and cramped room. Many a nights, Jordana would leap off the end of her bed into the hallway with blanket in tow. She feared putting her feet down on the cold floorboards.

Something was under her bed and it would grab her ankles and drag her into the pitch black. She'd never be seen again. The child would rush into her parents room and jump onto their bed to nestle between them. Jarrett Jax, Jordana's father, would grumble incoherently and demand that she get back to her own bed. Kalin, her mother, would just tuck the child in and hold her close, chasing away the fears. This went on for many, many more years than was considered normal.

Those monsters were real. Just as real as the tears soaking her cheeks as she sat huddled against the cold steel bars of a cage that was situated in a now hollowed out area of a ship. Judging by the nuts and bolts still jutting up from the flooring, the area was once seated space for passengers. It was obvious that the seats had been uprooted just to be replaced with animal cages. At least they let me keep this, she thought as she hugged her backpack tighter. The only reason they even let her keep the ratty looking thing was because it didn't hold anything special. Other than a holograph of her parents, a holopic of her beloved pet, and a sketch book that served two purposes, there was nothing inside that her captors wanted. Unless, of course, she included the fact that they had ridiculed her terribly about it all.

The night played over and over again in her head. Her father had become upset and sent her to her room. She heard her parents muffled voices as she checked every nook and cranny in her room for monsters. As she was pulling back from checking under her bed, a strong yet small hand with gray, bony fingers covered her mouth and slipped a weapon against her throat. Back and out the window the thing took her, then into the darkness. It happened so quickly. One minute she was in her room and the next she was used as leverage against her father by ... who?

She was taken from them, ripped from her home. She cried out for her daddy, but he didn't come. The last memory Jordana would have of her parents would be of seeing everyone separated and ... and what?

What became of them?

Jordana screamed and closed her eyes tight while pressing her body against the steel bars, wishing desperately that she could just melt right through those bars or miraculously make herself invisible. The door of the cage squeaked open and one of three gray-skinned robed monsters stepped inside to take the young girl firmly by the arm. She begged and pleaded for them to just let her go and leave her alone, but her voice went unnoticed. How typical. Even the monsters ignore the voices of the young.

Going from the darkness of the ship and into the bright light of day shining upon wherever it was they had just landed at, created a piercingly sharp pain in Jordana's eyes. She'd lost track of just how long she was kept locked up and traveling so the girl didn't know if it was morning or afternoon, what day it was, or what week or month it was. The girl shielded her eyes with a raised arm as she was pushed and tugged to go along, ushered from one entrapment to another.

After crossing the tarmac, a hand pushed down at the back of her head and forced her into the back of a vehicle. The windows were darkened. Scared to death, Jordana clutched at her backpack and pressed as tight as she could against the opposite side as a tall, large body slid in to the back compartment with her. The light of day had been behind whoever it was, so, coupled with her eyes not really adjusting quickly enough to the change of light, she failed to take notice of whether or not it was human, male or female.

The child gave up with pleading to be released long ago. She'd gone hoarse and learned that begging was futile. Her throat was very sore and dry, her lips were dry, too. She was hungry, cold, and tired. Jordana pulled away and eeped out loud as a thick, meaty hand reached over and tried to pat her knee. Thankfully, whomever it was, wasn't insistent on making physical contact with her as the hand withdrew.

Turning to face the window, Jordana tried to get some idea of where she might be, but the vehicle had picked up speed and the images that passed by were nothing more than quick blurs. From this, she assumed that they weren't anywhere near a major city. She didn't hear the muffled sounds of traffic or notice any odors of cooking foods that would fill the air from the kitchens of local eateries and restaurants. She heard no horns blaring, no hum of repulsors or anything of the sort. It was like that, noiseless, for a guesstimated time of two and a half hours.

"Get up", the voice of whomever had been in the back with her insisted. Definitely male judging by the deepness of the voice. Male, or one incredibly masculine female. The thought gave the girl a shudder.

Pulled forcefully from the vehicle, Jordana was then blindfolded and thrust into the awaiting hands of another. No words were exchanged, but she did hear a sound that reminded her of paper crumpling amidst a calloused hand.

"It's all there."

A humph came from one. "I have men watching. You make sure to hold up your end of the bargain.."

"What?! No, please, I'm begging you to jus --'

Jordana was silenced with a cold, hard slap across the face that brought stinging tears to her eyes. The action was followed with a mighty shove to the back of her right shoulder. Jordana stumbled forward. Any time she was to make a turn, she was shoved from the back against the shoulder for which direction her new captor wanted her to go. She fell several times and staggered many more. At one point, the girl was able to tell that they were descending for the ground sloped gently downward. A lift ride came, and down further still she was taken.

When the doors opened, noise and aromas assaulted her sense. Jordana reeled backwards only to be stopped by the closed doors of the lift. She was grabbed by the arm again and thrown forward, caught by someone who had thin arms and bony fingers. She screamed and tried to struggle free. Another hand removed the blindfold from her eyes to reveal the faces of those she was now in the company of. An elderly chap had caught her, and an aging woman removed the blind fold. The woman shushed the child, then said everything would be all right, not to fear them.

But Jordana scrambled away, as far away as she could get. Large, brown eyes shifted wildly from face to face, fearful of what they might do to her.

"Shh, shh, child! We mean you no harm. I'm Shareeze, and this here," the older woman said as she gently hooked an arm around the shoulders of the wobbly, lanky old man, "Corvan."

The names registered, but Jordana wasn't excitedly forthcoming with introducing herself. Weary, she slumped against the hardened dirt wall and closed her eyes, turning away as a fresh onslaught of sobbing ensued.

"Shareeze, get the girl a change of clothes and set up a bedroll for her. Near the fires, hurry." The older woman followed the instructions as Corvan kept vigil over the girl without getting to near.

Jordana slowly turned her head a little, just enough to cast a sidelong look at what was going on. When she seen that the woman was just trying to extend a little niceness, she settled her gaze on Corvan. He offered an uncomfortable grin. His teeth were darkly yellowed, some had blackened due to rot and improper care. But his gray eyes held a twinkle within; wise and kind. He was frail looking to the point of being nothing but wrinkled skin sagging from brittled bones. His fingers, curled around the tip of a stick that served as a walking stick, were gnarled from years of suffering from painful arthritis.

"Come, child. We will not harm you," he bade again.

Jordana kept a sharp eye on the old man, only looking away briefly to see what the others were doing and where they were in relation to herself. "Where .. am I?" She asked, her voice quavering.

Corvan withdrew the crooked hand he had extended and sighed. "I'm afraid, child, you are on a planet called Werncin 3." Corvan knew by the way Jordana's brows furled that she had no idea where in the galaxy she was. He moved his arm out to the side in a sweeping motion to indicate the whole of the hole she had been thrown into. "This is ... where we live."

"Psh, if you can call this livin'!" Hissed another female from somewhere in the small crowd. The sentiment was echoed with nods or murmured agreements.

"What will happen to me?"

Those in the crowd turned their eyes away or lowered them to the ground, shuffling their feet in the dirt; either from nervousness, fear, or apprehensiveness. Jordana couldn't tell which.

Corvan's wise gray eyes softened, the wrinkled crows feet stamped at the corners seemed to melt away as he informed the girl of her fate. "I'd heard that you will be put to work in the kitchen's," he said while pointing a curled finger toward the high dirt ceiling above.

Jordana remained shrunken against the wall while she considered. Working in a kitchen didn't sound so bad. Plus, she'd be up on the surface. There'd have to be opportunities to escape!

Wouldn't there?

Corvan must have been a mind reader because he said, "Everyone who has tried before has never made it more than three feet before getting killed."

"Leave her be, Corvan. Can't ye see she's tired! Come, I've fixed up a nice spot for you to lay your head." Shareeze scolded the ancient man while waving her hand for Jordana to come away from the wall.

She did, but she hugged her backpack tight and kept her distance from the others. Once she reached the thin bedroll the woman had tried to make into a comfortable bed, Jordana laid down and kept a wide, teary-eyed vigil on the others until she couldn't keep her eyes open another minute longer.

* * * * *

The first month was spent slaving away in the hot and sweaty kitchen of some run, down local tavern. It was apparent by the style and dress of the clientèle that the Rotting Rancor catered to those of lesser repute. A few of the girls that had been abducted were pretty enough to be put to 'work'; servicing the lonely drunk space-faring men who wandered the galaxy as pirates or worse. Jordana, for one, was thankful that she wasn't considered 'attractive' enough for that!

At least not to the owner of the Rotting Rancor. The kitchen manager, on the other hand, found the young girl attractive to pinch and grope at every opportunity he had. Whether it was when she was going down to the cellar to get a fresh heaping of soggy, spoiled vegetables or coming in from out back with a new crate of the galaxy's cheapest liquor. Her butt had been bruised from the pinching numerous times. As time went on, and her protests unheeded, Jordana finally gave up on demanding that he keep his hands to himself.

That first month was also spent puking her guts out every afternoon. The living conditions for the slaves were horrendous at best, and the food (if it could even be called that) was even worse. The slaves were allowed to eat whatever was thrown out at the end of each business day. Corvan didn't have the heart to tell Jordana that the scraps they were allowed to have had been thrown out at least three days prior to ending up in their dirty hands. So Jordana learned to squirrel away a dinner roll here or a small helping of vegetables there as she served the customers or retrieved their dishes and brought them to the kitchen. It wasn't the best, but it was a far cry better than three day old rotting scraps; and at least she could keep it down.

Shareeze had taken to caring for Jordana as a mother. Though it wasn't the finest materials, the woman managed to piece together a spare outfit or two for Jordana. One consisted of a pair of pants and a shirt that Shareeze claimed both were ripped to shreds during the washing process. The customer wasn't happy and neither was the owner, Kragen, because he had to give the person free food and a free room just to make up for it. Though a bit large, they were clean and that was all that mattered to Jordana. The other was a disheveled mini-dress. Again, too big for her body - especially in the chest region - but Shareeze managed to make it fit a little better. But Jordana would never wear it while working. The less reason she could give to the kitchen manager, Kragen, to grab at her with, the better.

But that first month wasn't all bad. Jordana had learned via means of eavesdropping, that she was in a city called Jinorota City. Apparently the city was best known for its lawlessness and cheap prices on everything - girls, booze, and information. She kept to herself, didn't really speak much to the other slaves, and soaked up information as she worked the night away. Most of it was trivial crap that wouldn't help her in the least.

As time continued to pass, though, Jordana's hopes of escaping dwindled. The first attempt was an utter disaster. The punishment was worse. The second attempt failed, obviously, when the woman she was hoping would take a message that Jordana had Corvan write, with her when she left the planet was handed over to Kragen. The 'dining room' (if it could be called that) was without a server for a few days thanks to the punishment received for that.

Though her hopes were fading fast, Jordana could be found daydreaming while bathing in dirty, left over bath water. Dreaming of adventures, rescue, and freeing others who were in situations similar to the one she was in right now. She dreamed of finding her parents and running away with them, some place safe, where no one could split them up again. It was on the days that she'd imagine being free, that she'd cry herself to sleep, knowing that they were only dreams that would never come to pass.

Jordana's hands were bright red from the scalding heat of the water used to clean the dishes and glassware. But she'd grown use to it and no longer felt the pain. She swiped the sweat from one thick brow with the back of her arm then dried her hands on the apron strung around her thinning waist. It was time to cut the vegetables, so she grabbed a cutting board and knife and set to work; all the while going back to the thoughts in her head.

Or she would have if Kragen hadn't come bursting through the doors. "Jordana! Where are you, girl?"

She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip then sighed. Now what does he want, she wondered with annoyance. The girl eyed the shiny steel blade of the knife in her head for a minute, then set it down before going to see what the ogre of a man wanted.

"Get yer sweet *** out there and clean up the mess on the floor or I'll have your hide for dinner," he growled sternly.

Flustered, Jordana quickly grabbed a bucket of dirty, soapy water and a sponge, then hurried out to the common room. The customers were in a mild uproar. For what reason, she did not know. She navigated her way through the crowd and found where the mess had been made. By the sound of the rising heated voices, a brawl wasn't far away. Someone had dumped an entire plate and a few bottles of liquor onto the floor. Great, thanks, Jordana thought sourly as she dropped to her knees and began picking up bits of food from the floorboard.

"You're a cheat, Binx. Admit it. You cheated, you were busted for it, and now you're being called out on it. Admit it and we can all go back to our oh so fine dining," Jordana heard one sing-songy female voice say to the gathering crowd.

"Ow," Jordana hissed under the table as some gorilla stepped on the back of her toes, paying no mind to the girl beneath the table cleaning up the mess. As she scrubbed away at the grime and sticky filth on the floor, something shined once at the corner of her eye. Further inspection revealed the item to be the hilt of a dagger tucked into the boot of one of the customers.

What a temptation! Of course, as she imagined slipping said dagger from said boot, she remembered the punishments doled out for trying to escape or pass word along with hopes of being rescued. But those memories soon turned into a grand adventure in the back of her mind. Jordana Jax, a dangerous woman, one not to be trifled with! The girl who took the dagger and used it to hurry along her escape from a gang of local thugs!

She sighed, then went back to scrubbing the floor as the voices all around continued to rise. Still, that hilt was right there, just ripe for the pickings! Oh don't be silly, she thought to herself. You wouldn't even know what to do with it if you managed to get it unnoticed.

Still ...

The voices rose and then all hell broke loose as a bottle came smashing down on someone's head. Jordana heard the sound of hand weapons being withdrawn from leather holsters and saw the flash of bolts flying across the room. Just as the person who had remained seated the entire time stood, Jordana's fingers pulled the hilt and the weapon slid out from the patron's boot unnoticed.

Quickly she hid the dagger within the confines of her apron and scuttled across the floor, weaving around the trampling feet of those seeking cover. Tables overturned, chairs were thrown about, insults and orders were tossed around.

Kragen was busy trying to dodge blaster bolts while demanding order, so he was too busy saving his own sorry skin to notice that one slave had managed to crawl her way toward a darkened hall off to the side and become swallowed by the shadows...


Content Here.
Wei Wu Wei
Backpack, Sketchbook, Clothes on her back
Timeline of Roleplays
Out of Character
Content Here.