Darth Timoris
To err is human, to forgive divine. And I'm no god
Prakith was a mountainous fortress world located in the Prakith system of the Deep Core that, thanks to its unstable terrain and its isolation, was a difficult location to conquer by force.
The Republic knew this only too well as they’d tried it once. Which is why Melori was heading there.
A soft beep from the console alerted her that the Trezza was at last approaching its final destination. The ship gifted by her elder sister would have been useful the last time she came here – but she was getting ahead of herself.
Travel into the Deep Core was always dangerous; the densely packed stars and black holes at the galaxy's heart created gravity wells capable of warping the space-time continuum. Under such extreme conditions, hyperspace lanes were unstable, shifting or even collapsing without warning.
What the ignorant dismissed as chance or random luck was often the work of the Force. Some chose to call it destiny or fate, though these terms were far too simple to convey the subtle yet far-reaching influence it wielded. The Force was alive; it permeated the very fabric of the universe, flowing through every living creature. An energy that touched and influenced all living things, its currents-both light and dark-ebbed and flowed, shaping the patterns of existence. Which was why she was here.
The console beeped again, and the view outside the cockpit changed from the blinding white field of hyperspace to reveal the Prak system: a small red sun surrounded by five tiny planets. Taking manual control of her vessel, she descended on the third – a forbidding world largely covered by active volcanoes, burning lakes of magma, and dark fields of sulphuric ash.
As she entered the atmosphere, the scanners picked up several small cities scattered across the inhospitable surface. The nearest was several hundred kilometres to the north, but she turned her ship in the opposite direction, heading for the vast mountain range that ran east-west along the planet's equator.
As she drew closer, the ship detected a small settlement on the edge of the range. Surprisingly, an automated landing beacon was emitting a signal on standard channels. That meant there was still an active spaceport, though it was probably used by shuttles travelling from one location on the planet's surface to another, rather than visitors from off-world. But something in her memory was awakened. She remembered it.
Her theory was confirmed when she brought her ship in to touch down at the small landing pad on the edge of the settlement. Away to her right was a small mountain – the damage created when a ship hit it all too evident – even six years on.
The only other person on site was an old woman sitting in a chair outside a small, dilapidated customs booth. She watched curiously as Melori emerged from the ship, but made no effort to rise.
"Don't see too many visitors lately," she said as Melori approached. "You from Gallia?"
The woman was assuming she was a native of Prakith; the idea that someone from outside their system would come to visit this place obviously hadn't even crossed her mind.
"That's right," Melori said, seeing no reason to complicate the situation by revealing the truth. "I flew in from Gallia. I'm waiting for someone."
[member="Vengeance"]