Difference between revisions of "Markus Saretti"

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Markus Saretti
Biographical Information
Race	Corellian
Homeworld	Corellia
Mother
Father	Jonathan Saretti
Spouse	None
Siblings	None
Children	None
Born	Year X Day X
Imperial Service
Branch	Imperial Navy
Positions
Prior Service	Fleet Commanding Officer 2nd Imperial Fleet, Director of RADIN, Navy Executive Officer, Group Commanding Officer
Awards

Markus Saretti is retired Vice Admiral in the Imperial Navy. He was the Commanding Officer of the 2nd Imperial Fleet before his retirement.

Captain Saretti: "My rebellion was to join the Empire."

Brigadier General L`Annan: "I don't comprehend the words rebellion associated with the Empire"

Captain Saretti: "If your father is a pacifist, enlisting in the Empire is a good way to get back at him."

― Captain Saretti and Brigadier General L`Annan

Pre-Imperial History

A Father's Failure

The air was heavy with the scent of ionized metal and lubricant as Markus Saretti wandered through the labyrinth of his father's sprawling shipyard on Corellia. The clangs and hisses of machinery played the symphony of industry that had scored Markus' entire childhood. His father, Jonathan, owned Saretti Parts & Parcels, a modest but well-respected business that dealt in all manners of starship components.

Jonathan Saretti was a man of medium stature but possessed a presence that seemed to command the sprawling warehouses far more than his height would suggest. His face, often smeared with grease, carried a constant, contemplative frown—less out of any displeasure and more from a perpetual state of deep thought about his next deal or shipment.

That particular day, the warehouse was quieter, the staff reduced to a skeletal crew due to a local festival. Markus, who should have been at the festival enjoying the festivities with children his age, had instead snuck back to explore the less frequented parts of the storage facility. His mother, Nala, would have scolded him for shirking his chores and studies, but the allure of adventure among the towering racks of ship parts was too tempting to resist.

As Markus delved deeper into the older sections of the warehouse, a part of the hangar rarely visited these days, he stumbled upon a hidden alcove behind a false panel. The discovery sent a thrill of excitement down his spine. Behind the panel, covered in dust and shadows, were various crates marked with symbols that he didn't recognize—sinister looking marks that didn't belong in the legal shipping registries his father often tutored him on.

Curiosity piqued, Markus brushed off the layers of dust from one of the crates to inspect its contents. The seal gave way with a hiss, revealing rows of high-powered blaster mods and what looked unmistakably like contraband enhancements for speeders and small starfighters. Markus’ heart raced; he knew these were illegal, items that could get a merchant imprisoned.

Fear replaced excitement as the implications of his discovery began to dawn on him. His father, his hero, involved in something so dangerous? It couldn't be. But the evidence was glaringly irrefutable, nestled right before him in the dim light of the alcove.

Before Markus could further contemplate his next actions, heavy footsteps echoed in the corridor leading to his secret corner. Panicking, he quickly closed the crate and hid behind a larger container just as two figures entered the alcove. Through a gap, he recognized one of them: Mara Sintor, a longtime family friend, and her companion, an imposing figure Markus didn't know.

"I told you, Jonathan is getting too scared. He’s going to fold if the Imperials push just a bit," Mara's harsh whisper carried across the small space. "We need to move these now."

Her companion, a burly man with a scarred face, grunted in agreement, "Let’s just hope your trust in him isn’t misplaced, or we’re all going to end up on a labor colony on Kessel."

Sweat beaded on Markus’ forehead as he listened, the weight of the conversation pressing down on him. The adults continued to argue, unaware of the young boy’s presence. They were planning something big—something that undoubtedly involved the contraband he had just uncovered.

When the coast was clear, Markus sprinted from his hiding spot, heart pounding in his chest. He needed to warn his father, to save him from whatever web Mara was weaving around him. But as he burst into his father’s office later that evening, breathless and frantic, the look on Jonathan Saretti’s face wasn’t one of surprise but one of resigned guilt.

“Son, I suppose it’s time we had a very serious talk about what it means to be a merchant in these troubled times...”

The ensuing conversation was a mix of disillusionment and awakening for young Markus. He learned of the pressures his father faced, the moral compromises required to navigate the murky waters of commerce under Imperial oversight and the fringes of legality. That night, Markus grew up more than he had in all his years on Corellia.

The Forgotten Lore

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the streets of Coronet City as Markus Saretti headed home from the local library. He was older now, nearing the end of his pre-teen years, his mind ablaze with stories of ancient Corellian lore and legends he had discovered among dusty tomes that day. The library had become a sanctuary for Markus, a place to escape the complexities of his family life and the unsettling realities he had uncovered in his father's business.

This evening was different; Markus had stumbled upon a forgotten section in the library's lower levels, an area seldom visited, where the oldest records and manuscripts were kept. Among these relics, he found a book bound in weathered leather, its pages yellowed with age, titled "The Echoes of Corellia." It spoke of hidden artifacts and secret places of power on Corellia, remnants of a time when mystics and seers were said to walk the planet.

Enthralled by the possibilities, Markus decided to investigate one of the locations mentioned in the book—a secluded grove in the Tyrena foothills, rumored to house an ancient stone with inscriptions that could reveal the future to those who deciphered its symbols. The next day, brimming with anticipation, he enlisted the company of two friends, Elia Roon and Gav Daragon, fellow adventurers eager to uncover hidden truths.

Their journey took them through winding paths and lush, untamed wilderness until they arrived at the grove, which was even more serene and mystical than Markus had imagined. The ancient stone stood proudly at the center, covered in strange runes that none of them recognized.

The trio spent hours trying to make sense of the inscriptions, using a makeshift cipher Markus had copied from the book. As the day waned, their efforts bore fruit; the symbols began to form coherent phrases, speaking of a great calamity that once befell Corellia, averted only by the unity of its people under a single banner.

The story struck a chord with Markus, resonating with the discord he felt at home—his father's compromised morals against his own burgeoning sense of justice. The lore spoke of unity and strength, virtues he found lacking in his own life but desperately wanted to believe in.

Their discovery was cut short by the sudden appearance of a group of hooded figures, watchers of the lore, who emerged from the shadows of the trees. The figures were stern and imposing, guardians of the grove who were none too pleased to find the youths meddling with sacred secrets.

"You tread on forbidden ground," one of the figures intoned, his voice echoing slightly under the hood. "What you learn here could change the course of your life, for knowledge, once gained, cannot be unseen."

Faced with the threat of severe repercussions for their trespass, Markus and his friends argued for their right to seek out the lore, to understand their planet's hidden history. The confrontation escalated until Markus, with a courage he didn't know he possessed, repeated the prophecy they had unearthed.

Silence followed. After a tense moment, the guardians conferred among themselves, then surprisingly, they chose to permit Markus and his friends to leave unharmed, with a stern warning to respect the lore's power and keep its secrets safe.

Returning home, Markus was changed. The adventure had ignited a new resolve in him—a desire to find unity and purpose, like the ancient Corellians before him. He knew the path ahead would be fraught with challenges, but the lore had shown him that the past could inspire the future, and perhaps, just perhaps, he could help steer his family, and maybe one day the galaxy, toward a better tomorrow.

Siege of Sentiments

Corellia's capital, teeming with commerce and the everyday bustle, was a city split by unseen lines—lines that young Markus Saretti was becoming increasingly aware of as his teen years began to form his future outlook. Amidst the city's vibrant trade lanes, the encroaching presence of the Empire cast a long shadow, one that seemed to darken the doorstep of his family’s ship parts store and stretch even into the hallowed halls of his mother’s academic circles.

One seemingly ordinary morning, marked by the routine hum of activity, was violently interrupted by an explosion not far from the marketplace. Though minor, the blast's ripples were seismic in their societal impact. The Imperials were swift to respond, casting a wide net of suspicion that ensnared innocent and insurgent alike.

The Saretti family shop, a mere two blocks from the explosion, suffered not only physical damage from the shockwave but found itself under the heavy scrutiny of the Empire's forces. Jonathan hastily attended to the damages, while Nala salvaged what remained of their merchandise. Markus, caught between his parents' distress and the chaos unfolding around them, found himself drawn to the Imperial response rather than repelled by it.

It was during this tense period that Captain Idran Krell, an Imperial officer assigned to suppress any Rebel activity in the area, made his indelible mark on Markus' path. Krell, with his imposing figure and commanding aura, established a command post close to the Saretti’s store. His presence was both a menace and a magnet; his uniform, a stark symbol of order amidst disorder.

"Your father's store, I presume?" Krell inquired upon noticing Markus amid the debris. His voice bore the weight of authority and an underlying promise of safety through strength.

Markus acknowledged him, his curiosity piqued by the captain’s directness.

"A regrettable loss, a casualty of a larger battle," Krell commented, his eyes scanning the damaged storefront. "This ongoing conflict is a disease, young man. If not addressed, it consumes all—good businesses, innocent lives. The Empire aims to cure this malady. Have you ever considered that perspective?"

This conversation became the first of many, with Krell often engaging Markus on matters of power, order, and destiny. The captain's words, filled with conviction about the Empire's role as the galaxy’s arbiter, resonated with Markus, particularly as he witnessed the tangible effects of Rebel activities on his family's livelihood.

"Why stay passive in the face of chaos when you could join a cause that molds the galaxy’s destiny?" Krell challenged him during one of their discussions. "The Empire values the youth who dare to realize their potential."

As Markus' admiration for the captain grew, so did his disillusionment with his parents' apolitical stance. The tipping point came during a covert crackdown on a Rebel cell in the area. Hidden in the shadows, Markus felt an unexpected thrill at the display of Imperial might and efficiency. His fear was replaced by admiration; the power wielded by the Imperials was not just effective—it was seductive.

Seizing a moment of conviction, Markus provided Krell with crucial information about local dissenters, information that led to significant Imperial victories. Krell's approval was palpable, filling a void in Markus that had been expanding with every act of Rebel-induced disruption.

"I see great potential in you, Markus," Krell confided as they surveyed the now tranquil marketplace. "Consider what the Empire could offer you as your stage."

These words cemented Markus’ resolve. The city, once a playground of innocent childhood pursuits, had become the forge of his new identity. Under Krell’s mentorship, he saw a path lined not by the ideals of his upbringing but by the stark realities of power and ambition. The Siege of Sentiments was over, but for Markus, the battle for his soul was just beginning, pushing him ever closer to the Empire's dark embrace.

Disillusionment & Power

As the echoes of the recent skirmish settled into the streets of Corellia, the Saretti family continued to navigate their fractured existence. The marketplace had become a frontier of Imperial authority and Rebel defiance. Amidst this, Markus Saretti’s wanderlust into the more arcane aspects of the galaxy’s history deepened—his escapades into the ancient archives now tinged with the sharpness of personal stakes.

It was during one of his clandestine visits to the restricted sections of the city’s grand library that Markus stumbled upon a hidden trove of Sith lore. Hidden behind a false panel, the collection was vast, detailing forbidden techniques and forgotten histories. The texts whispered of power, not merely to control but to reshape reality, to bend the will of others and to forge destiny with one’s own hands. It was a seductive promise that Markus felt drawn to, especially as the shadows of war loomed ever larger over his family.

Intrigued and unsettled by his findings, Markus began to spend his nights poring over the texts, the words of the Sith seeping into his thoughts, offering a stark contrast to his parents’ teachings of neutrality and restraint. Each line read was a silent rebellion against his perceived imprisonment by his parents’ ideals.

His mother, Nala, focused on her academic pursuits, remained blissfully unaware of Markus’ descent into the darker ideologies until one fateful evening. A Rebel insurgent group targeted an Imperial gala, causing collateral damage that reached the academic halls where Nala was working late. The attack left nothing but devastation in its wake, claiming the lives of many, including Nala.

The news shattered the fragile veneer of Markus’ restraint. The death of his mother, a collateral victim of a conflict she had never supported nor opposed, ignited a fierce and dark resolve in him. The Sith doctrines no longer seemed mere historical curiosities; they became a manifesto for his burgeoning hatred toward the Rebellion and a justification for his thirst for vengeance.

“Your mother’s death shall not be in vain,” whispered an enigmatic voice one evening as Markus sat alone in the darkened ruins of the library, the Sith texts spread out before him. It was Captain Idran Krell, who had been monitoring Markus’ potential for some time.

“Her passing is a consequence of chaos, the very chaos the Rebels sow,” Krell continued, his voice a catalyzing force in Markus’ fractured world. “But you, Markus, you can harness your grief, mold it into power. The Empire can teach you, guide you to wield it.”

This belief was cemented the day he confronted his father, who continued to preach the merits of staying apolitical, even after his wife's death. “It’s about survival, Markus. We must think about the business, about you. Taking a side could ruin everything we’ve built.”

“Everything you’ve built,” Markus spat back, his voice cold and hardened by the Sith teachings. “You're a coward, father. You hide behind your business, using it as an excuse to do nothing while the galaxy burns around us!”

Jonathan's face, usually calm and unreadable, fell in despair at his son's words. But Markus was unmoved. His path had become clear. The Sith lore had shown him a galaxy ruled by the strong, where indecision was met with derision and defeat. He would no longer be bound by his father's fears or the false safety of neutrality.

Krell’s words, "Markus, you can harness your grief, mold it into power. The Empire can teach you, guide you to wield it." echoed in his him after his confrontation with his father. He began to see his mother’s death as a catalyst, a necessary pain that awakened him to the realities of the galaxy—that peace was a lie, there was only passion.

With each passing day, Markus’ resolve hardened, and his actions grew more calculated. He started aiding Imperial efforts more directly, providing intelligence, and participating in minor skirmishes against Rebel factions. Each act of defiance against the Rebels was a strike back for his mother, a blow against the chaos that had taken her from him.

The once innocuous boy who had navigated the market streets with wonder was now a youth cloaked in the shadows of his own rage and sorrow. Markus Saretti was no longer just a citizen of the Empire; he was its secret weapon, its emerging avenger. His path was set, and it led away from the light of his childhood, deeper into the darkness of a galaxy at war, towards an inevitable enlistment in the Galactic Empire’s ranks. His destiny, like the hidden texts he had uncovered, was sealed in shadows—shadows that promised power, retribution, and a chance to strike at the heart of his enemies.

Under the cover of darkness, Markus left his home. With nothing but a satchel of belongings and the Sith manuscript, he set out to find his destiny, to join those who dared to wield power and enforce order—the Galactic Empire. His heart was a cauldron of unresolved grief and unspoken love, now overshadowed by the dark allure of vengeance against the Rebels, against all who threatened what he deemed to be right.

His departure was quiet, and by morning, only the echo of his resolve remained, whispering through the rooms of the Saretti household, a constant reminder of what was lost in the pursuit of what was to be gained.

Imperial History

Imperial Academy

A Test of Allegiance

In the legendary halls of the Imperial Academy, the tension was palpable. Markus Saretti, whose reputation for ruthlessness was already well-known among his peers, walked with a deliberate pace towards the simulation room. The air was thick with the anticipation of the day’s trials—a series of tests designed to sieve out the weak and mold the perfect Imperial tools.

The simulation room, a cavernous space lined with high-tech equipment and holographic displays, was buzzing with activity. Cadets, in crisp uniforms, were huddled in groups, discussing strategies and potential scenarios. Among them was Cadet Lira Wessex, known for her compassion and adherence to what she believed was the moral backbone of the Empire. Her views often clashed with the harsh realities of Imperial doctrine, making her an ideal target for Markus’ machinations.

Instructor Captain Teryn Rel, a stern woman with sharp features, called the room to attention. “Today,” she began, her voice echoing off the metallic walls, “you will face a scenario that tests your loyalty, your ability to follow orders without hesitation.” Markus listened, his mind already racing through possible scenarios, calculating angles and advantages.

As the cadets were briefed, Markus learned that their mission was to eliminate a supposed insurgent hideout. The catch, however, was that the hideout was located within a civilian complex. Markus saw his opportunity here, a chance to demonstrate his unwavering commitment to Imperial orders.

Before the simulation began, Markus leaned in close to Lira, whispering under the hum of conversation, “I heard from a reliable source that the insurgents might be holding hostages. Saving them could turn the tide for us.” Lira looked at him, a flicker of doubt crossing her otherwise resolute face. But the seed was planted.

As the simulation kicked into motion, chaos unfolded. Blaster fire echoed in the simulated environment, and the smell of ozone filled the air. Markus charged forward, leading his squad with precision, every move calculated. Lira, conflicted by Markus’ words, hesitated at a crucial moment. Instead of following the mission’s directive, she led her team to a different part of the complex, attempting to locate and save the nonexistent hostages.

Markus, executing the mission’s original orders, set charges and detonated the building, not flinching as the simulation ended with the structure collapsing on holographic civilians. The debriefing was brutal. Captain Rel praised Markus for his ruthless efficiency. “Exactly what the Empire needs,” she declared, her eyes glinting with approval.

Lira, on the other hand, was devastated. During the review, her actions were scrutinized, her failure to comply with direct orders highlighted as a severe breach of conduct. “You let sentiment cloud your judgment,” Captain Rel scolded. Lira's career at the academy was jeopardized, her future uncertain.

In the aftermath, as the cadets dispersed, Markus was approached by Lieutenant Commander Axe Vulcan, who had observed the simulations. “Impressive work, Cadet Saretti,” Vulcan said, a rare smile breaking his usually stoic demeanor. “Your ability to act decisively under pressure will serve you well in the 1st Imperial Fleet.”

As Markus prepared to leave the academy behind, joining the ranks under Vulcan, he felt no remorse. In his mind, Lira’s downfall was a necessary sacrifice for his ascension. The Empire, after all, had no place for weakness. His eyes, cold and calculating, were set on the future, a future where he would rise to power, fueled by the dark teachings of the Sith and the harsh lessons learned under the Empire’s unforgiving regime.

And so, under the sterile lights of the Imperial Academy, a new servant of the dark side was forged, ready to take his place in the endless ranks of the Empire’s ambitious and ruthless.

Biography

Service History

Awards

• First Imperial Fleet Retired Veteran
• Imperial Duty Bars - 1 Year
• Certified Veteran Academy Tutor
• Imperial Academy Basic Graduate
• Darpa Garrison
• Divine Tempest
• Operation: Adkinien
• Operation: Restrained Force
• Operation: Free Meridian
• M`Buh Liberation Award
• Tax Planet: Scylla
• Letter of Commendation 3
• Mentioned in Dispatchers 4
• Fleet of the Month Award #2
• Navy Activity Medal
• Imperial Cross
• Fleet Service Medal