Markus
Member
"Markus, do-..." The man could not finish his thoughts, the body going limp as the blaster bolt went through the back of his skull and out the face, crashing through his left eye in a gruesome way. The recording panned out, showing the fresh corpse laying next to two others - all three human, one woman, two male. Fresh, by the looks of it.
A new man appeared on the feed, bearing the Republic sigil on his chest. "We'll find the rest of you." Is all he said before the feed cut off. Markus could not help but stare at the live feed, his brain begging him to look away, but his eyes not listening. Half of his squad executed while he could do nothing but watch. The rest waiting at the extraction point. His expression did not show sorrow, panic, anger... his expression showed nothing, a statue of stone with empty eyes. Something inside of him snapped... or rather, something clicked and fell in place.
"Private... Private..."
"Andril!"
A tall twi'lek man shouted out, finally managing to get Markus' attention. He turned, albeit with the same expression. "Yessir." His voice carried the same emptiness in the monotone way of responding.
"Come now. We have a job to do, wallow later!"
Markus simply nodded, putting his helmet on, and carrying his rifle in one hand, carrying himself on an injured leg and with a sloped posture. Just him and his sergeant now. They split up - they had to, that was the call made by the leader. He chose Markus to stay with him. He would have been on the other side of the feed otherwise. Markus mind was racing, but an order was an order. And the job still needed to be done.
So he carried on, following thw twi'lek like the good soldier he was. Finally picking up the pace as soon as blaster fire came their way. Just a lone enemy. Markus' rifle rang out. One shot - enemy down.
"1 minute until detonation. Let's haul ass, Private." The twi'lek set down the explosive they were sent to plant. Mission was completed - or 1 minute and it would be.
"Yessir." Markus stood still, staring at the device for a few moments.
"Fucking move then!" The twi'lek grabbed Markus' arm, dragging him along. Markus followed, or rather, he was taken away. His mind was still absent, his body just moving on its own. They made it to the exit of the compound they were in. 15 seconds to spare even. They were in the clear - or so they were until blaster fire came again, a shot connecting clean with the twi'lek sergeant's leg. He was down.
Markus snapped into action again, taking cover and sliding the man along with him. Four enemies. Bad position. Explosive about to go off. Odds were not good. He peeked, debris bouncing into his visor as the edge of his cover was shot. He looked up at the sky as the boot sounds were closing in. And then...
The ceiling came undone as the explosive went off. The enemies were crushed under. A large concrete section was coming down on him and his leader. Something clicked again. The veil of stone he put up coming undone. He let out a scream that shook his own core, the bottled up anger, sorrow, regret and everything in between finally bursting out as he shot his hands up towards the debris.
Then silence fell. The corridor was ruined and empty - and yet there they stood. Markus and the twi'lek. Alive. with the concrete bit next to them.
"What... did you do, Private?"
"I do not know, sir." The veil was back on. Whatever fueled him was back under wraps. The chain of command intact.
"You bloody well find out... I need it for the report..." The sergeant put his hand up, waiting for Markus to help him up. And Markus did in a heartbeat.
"... Yessir."
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There he stood again. In front of his father's office, waiting to be allowed in. Never enter without permission. Something drilled into him since five years old. He stood there - 5 minutes passed. Then 10. After 24 minutes, the door opened. He stepped through instantly.
"Sit down, son." His father did not even give him the courtesy of a glance. He called him 'son'. Markus knew what that meant - failure and disappointment. He had done something wrong. In his days as a child and teenager, that meant a beating. Those hadn't happened since he joined the Imperial Academy. He was too tall and athletic. So instead, his father simply berated him. His mother was also in the room, at the flank of the father, looking concerned and worried sick. She loved Markus.
"Yessir." Markus simply took his seat, looking straight ahead, out the window. Numb to the verbal lashings. And the physical ones by now.
"I received a communication. You are to be sent to the Sith Academy, a shuttle is already on its way. It will be here tomorrow at noon." He paused, finally setting his eyes on Markus, a look of contempt present, stronger than any other time before. "You were meant to be my successor. I had your entire career planned out. Already arranged a promotion, the youngest in your battalion to receive one. And now... You ruined it, didn't you?"
"Robert, this is grea-" His mother tried interjecting, only for her face to be bashed into the table by his father. Markus did not even flinch. He was used to his violence towards her. He had seen worse. This was mild.
"I did, sir." He kept looking on ahead. "I apologise, sir."
He was going to be a Sith now. He had no need to apologise. Yet he did. Because he failed. Or so his father said - so it must be true.
"Almost two decades of my life... wasted. Now I will have to find where I shipped your brothers off and see if any of them can do better..."
Markus only ever saw his siblings on their birth. They were shipped away after. His father only cared about him. The first son. The pride of the Andril family. The next in line. Now he was scum not even worth using the name of. He stayed silent.
"I won't even waste my breath on you. Go away. You are not allowed in my house again. Come back when the shuttle gets here and not a second earlier. And don't you dare call yourself an Andril after today. Understood?"
He was no longer an Andril. No longer his father's son. He got up from his seat and saluted.
"... Yessir."
His mother looked like she was about to try talking again, only to be met by the father's glare. She closed her mouth, offering a simple nod to Markus, holding back her tears.
"Dismissed."
The young man turned and left his home. Only returning when the shuttle arrived to take him to his new life.
A new man appeared on the feed, bearing the Republic sigil on his chest. "We'll find the rest of you." Is all he said before the feed cut off. Markus could not help but stare at the live feed, his brain begging him to look away, but his eyes not listening. Half of his squad executed while he could do nothing but watch. The rest waiting at the extraction point. His expression did not show sorrow, panic, anger... his expression showed nothing, a statue of stone with empty eyes. Something inside of him snapped... or rather, something clicked and fell in place.
"Private... Private..."
"Andril!"
A tall twi'lek man shouted out, finally managing to get Markus' attention. He turned, albeit with the same expression. "Yessir." His voice carried the same emptiness in the monotone way of responding.
"Come now. We have a job to do, wallow later!"
Markus simply nodded, putting his helmet on, and carrying his rifle in one hand, carrying himself on an injured leg and with a sloped posture. Just him and his sergeant now. They split up - they had to, that was the call made by the leader. He chose Markus to stay with him. He would have been on the other side of the feed otherwise. Markus mind was racing, but an order was an order. And the job still needed to be done.
So he carried on, following thw twi'lek like the good soldier he was. Finally picking up the pace as soon as blaster fire came their way. Just a lone enemy. Markus' rifle rang out. One shot - enemy down.
"1 minute until detonation. Let's haul ass, Private." The twi'lek set down the explosive they were sent to plant. Mission was completed - or 1 minute and it would be.
"Yessir." Markus stood still, staring at the device for a few moments.
"Fucking move then!" The twi'lek grabbed Markus' arm, dragging him along. Markus followed, or rather, he was taken away. His mind was still absent, his body just moving on its own. They made it to the exit of the compound they were in. 15 seconds to spare even. They were in the clear - or so they were until blaster fire came again, a shot connecting clean with the twi'lek sergeant's leg. He was down.
Markus snapped into action again, taking cover and sliding the man along with him. Four enemies. Bad position. Explosive about to go off. Odds were not good. He peeked, debris bouncing into his visor as the edge of his cover was shot. He looked up at the sky as the boot sounds were closing in. And then...
The ceiling came undone as the explosive went off. The enemies were crushed under. A large concrete section was coming down on him and his leader. Something clicked again. The veil of stone he put up coming undone. He let out a scream that shook his own core, the bottled up anger, sorrow, regret and everything in between finally bursting out as he shot his hands up towards the debris.
Then silence fell. The corridor was ruined and empty - and yet there they stood. Markus and the twi'lek. Alive. with the concrete bit next to them.
"What... did you do, Private?"
"I do not know, sir." The veil was back on. Whatever fueled him was back under wraps. The chain of command intact.
"You bloody well find out... I need it for the report..." The sergeant put his hand up, waiting for Markus to help him up. And Markus did in a heartbeat.
"... Yessir."
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There he stood again. In front of his father's office, waiting to be allowed in. Never enter without permission. Something drilled into him since five years old. He stood there - 5 minutes passed. Then 10. After 24 minutes, the door opened. He stepped through instantly.
"Sit down, son." His father did not even give him the courtesy of a glance. He called him 'son'. Markus knew what that meant - failure and disappointment. He had done something wrong. In his days as a child and teenager, that meant a beating. Those hadn't happened since he joined the Imperial Academy. He was too tall and athletic. So instead, his father simply berated him. His mother was also in the room, at the flank of the father, looking concerned and worried sick. She loved Markus.
"Yessir." Markus simply took his seat, looking straight ahead, out the window. Numb to the verbal lashings. And the physical ones by now.
"I received a communication. You are to be sent to the Sith Academy, a shuttle is already on its way. It will be here tomorrow at noon." He paused, finally setting his eyes on Markus, a look of contempt present, stronger than any other time before. "You were meant to be my successor. I had your entire career planned out. Already arranged a promotion, the youngest in your battalion to receive one. And now... You ruined it, didn't you?"
"Robert, this is grea-" His mother tried interjecting, only for her face to be bashed into the table by his father. Markus did not even flinch. He was used to his violence towards her. He had seen worse. This was mild.
"I did, sir." He kept looking on ahead. "I apologise, sir."
He was going to be a Sith now. He had no need to apologise. Yet he did. Because he failed. Or so his father said - so it must be true.
"Almost two decades of my life... wasted. Now I will have to find where I shipped your brothers off and see if any of them can do better..."
Markus only ever saw his siblings on their birth. They were shipped away after. His father only cared about him. The first son. The pride of the Andril family. The next in line. Now he was scum not even worth using the name of. He stayed silent.
"I won't even waste my breath on you. Go away. You are not allowed in my house again. Come back when the shuttle gets here and not a second earlier. And don't you dare call yourself an Andril after today. Understood?"
He was no longer an Andril. No longer his father's son. He got up from his seat and saluted.
"... Yessir."
His mother looked like she was about to try talking again, only to be met by the father's glare. She closed her mouth, offering a simple nod to Markus, holding back her tears.
"Dismissed."
The young man turned and left his home. Only returning when the shuttle arrived to take him to his new life.