Golsh Morowko was born into a life of peace, a tradition that spanned countless generations of the Holoor people. His family, master builders, had carved a life of comfort in their quiet village of Ikapo, shaping homes from the earth itself with reverence for their craft. But that peace that the Holoor people lived under was only an illusion...one that would soon come tumbling down at a moments notice...

It was a normal, peaceful, almost perfect day like many others on Hu'Lek when the skies darkened with the arrival of Darkstar’s Legion. The fleet of ships descended on a nearby city outside of Ikapo, their engines letting out an ominous hum like the sadistic song of a world-devouring beast. The villagers of Ikapo felt it before they saw it, a primal disturbance in the air that they had never felt before. Fear crept into their bones as their minds raced, wondering what would come of their neighboring city, Paraf. Golsh was in the forest, cutting down trees to use for lumber when the fleet overhead blew a massive gust of wind through the trees. Shocked, he ran through the village, his heart pounding, as he searched for his family. He found them just as a massive ship landed in the center of Ikapo.

From its metallic belly, a host of Soltarian soldiers emerged, weapons whirring with energy. At their head stood a single Memellic, a small figure who was clad in obsidian armor, her face obscured by a visor that you could see her eyes behind, which seemed to burn like a furnace. She raised a large cannon of sorts, something which the Holoor had never seen and spoke in Omyrgathic:

"By the order of Darkstar, your planet shall burn. Your people are now property of Darkstar’s Legion. You will bow, you will serve, or you will die. I am the Incinerator, and it will be my honor to reduce this hideous village to cinders."

Golsh felt his breath clog in his throat as his family, and the rest of the villagers, hesitated. Then, like cattle resigned to slaughter, they moved toward the ships out of fear. Although they didn't speak Omyrgathic, the Holoor people knew what the Alien had just said by the way the solitarians started shackling them up and leading them to the ship like animals. He turned to his mother, father, and sister begging them to run into the forest with him, to escape. But his mother, Depa, held a grim expression, and she spoke in a firm voice.

"This is our life now," Depa said in Holish. "If we run, they will kill us. I love you, my son. All will be well."

She pulled away from him, stepping onto the loading ramp with his father and sister. Golsh’s legs trembled as the horror set in, as the reality gripped his heart like a vice. His hands clenched into fists. His blood started to scorch through his skin with rage. His mind, once incapable of comprehending violence, was consumed by it. He saw fire. He saw skulls. He saw rivers of blood. And then he screamed.

A scream so deep, so monstrous, it made the ground quake. The Incinerator merely chuckled.

"A fighter? How amusing."

He charged, blind with rage. He had no training, no skill, only fury. She raised her wrist and fired. A blast of searing plasma struck him square in the chest, and his world went dark.

He awoke to cold metal against his back, his arms shackled to the wall, his throat raw. Across from him, his family huddled together, hugging each other the best they could through their shackles. He tried to call to them, but a metal collar around his neck pulsed, silencing him by sending volts of electricity through his throat. Before he could comprehend his situation, the doors to his family's cell hissed open. He watched in silent horror as they were led away.

The ship trembled as it ascended. Outside the small window of his cell, he saw his planet, Hu’Lek, getting further and further away beneath him, visibly marred by trails of fire. The place of his birth, reduced to ruin. His home, erased. Even as he watched what used to be his home and the surrounding areas burn, all he could think of was how large his planet was, and how small he and his home were in scale. He turned back to his family, but they were gone.

The lights flickered. Then they cut out completely.

In the darkness, he saw movement. Silhouettes, shadows against the steel walls. The sounds of struggle filled the corridors. Choked gurgles, the wet sounds of blades slicing through flesh. Then, a faint glow as his cell door slid open, revealing warriors cloaked in darkness. One of them gestured toward the massive door that separated them from the main chamber.

Golsh understood. He tore his shackles from the wall with ease. He reached for his collar and wrenched it free, feeling the first true breath of his new life fill his lungs. His muscles coiled with newfound strength as he stepped out of his cell. With a single motion, he plunged his hands into the steel doors and pulled them apart, and then threw them to the ground beneath his feet. He was a builder, not a destroyer, but now he felt as though he needed to take up the latter.

The chamber beyond was a storm of gunfire. Over forty soldiers turned as the doors crashed to the ground, their weapons flashing with deadly light. Golsh did not hesitate. He took hold of one of the fallen doors, using it as a shield, marching forward as bullets and plasma bursts ricocheted off the metal. He let loose a roar, hurling the door with all his might. It smashed into the soldiers like a tree hitting the ground, shattering bones and rupturing bodies. Blood splattered against the walls.

He tore a blade from a fallen captain’s corpse—a Solta sword, pulsing with raw energy. As he swung, the weapon released a wave of power, slicing through the remaining soldiers like a scythe through wheat, which reminded him of his friend, Olast Houlkar, a neighboring farmer. Limbs and torsos fell in steaming heaps. The soldier's corpses bubbled in hot melted piles of flesh on the ground. He stepped over them without a second thought. He trudged onwards and pried open the next door, followed by an army of his own, an army of the heroes who freed him. The assorted group of aliens who rescued him went into separate hallways, freeing more prisoners, while the one who saved him, a human named "Spaceman" accompanied him to find his family. He managed to open the door which led to a massive carrier hall full of sub-ships, like the one that landed in Ikapo. Each one of these sub-ships could evacuate the mother ship, Nowak V, at any moment.

At the end of the room he saw her.

The Incinerator.

She was boarding a sub-ship with his family. She turned around as she heard the metal door hit the ground. As she looked at him, she laughed, raising her plasma-charged wrist. Before he could reach her, she shot a button on the wall with the plasma, and simultaneously kicked Golsh's mother, Depa, in the chest, into the ship, pushing his father and sister backwards as well. The doors sealed. The ship launched.

"Your family will make excellent slaves," she said. "They will build for us...Fight for us...Destroy for us...all things you could have had. You will die here instead, however. Alone."

She raised her other wrist and fired a torrent of fire at his face. He barely dodged in time, feeling the heat scorch his skin. He leapt at her from across the hall, managing to grab her by the throat and hurl her across the room. She hit the wall with a sickening crunch but rose, laughing. She reached for a nearby weapon—her flame cannon.

"I will burn this entire ship to the ground if it means I get to—"

A deafening explosion rocked the chamber. A gaping hole tore open behind her, the vacuum of space howling as it dragged everything into the abyss. The Incinerator’s eyes widened as she lost her footing, flailing helplessly as the void claimed her.

Golsh felt the air rush from his lungs, the cold tendrils of space grasping at him. A golden hand grabbed his arm. It was Spaceman. He forced a mask onto Golsh's face. Golsh looked at Spaceman to thank him, but Spaceman was motioning desperately to a massive ship hovering beyond the space debris it just created by blowing a hole in the wall. The ship was...The Iron Horizon.

He swam through the void, his body weightless, his mind a storm of rage and sorrow. The airlock sealed behind him. Spaceman patted him on the back, but he barely felt it. While thankful, he wasn't thinking about being alive...he was thinking about THEM being dead...His every thought was of death, destruction, and revenge.

His name was no longer Golsh Morowko...

His name was Warmaster...

And he will have his vengeance...