Jump to content

Kuat


Exodus

Recommended Posts

Mordecai stepped into the arena, a robotic arm resting in his grasp, and a second lightsaber resting on his belt for the time being. He was no stranger to parties, but this one seemed to have devolved into a brutal fistfight. He smirked. It seemed the Sith troops held up to the same reputation as their masters. His goal for now however was to find Lord Valinor, his master. She was likely awaiting his return, to judge his progress and his deeds. He hefted his trophy over his shoulder, looking around cautiously. He could see members of her legion mingling in the crowd, so it wasn't unlikely she was nearby.

 

He heard whispers and tales of others' deeds and accomplishments in the battle. Dead Jedi, wrecked ships, and slaughtered troops; to hear it from the troops, the battle was a resounding success. But he knew there was likely more to it. The Scarab had been forced to retreat, and without support, the station may have fallen. He knew nothing of this conflict or the Dark Lord's strategy, but losing a station and sustaining heavy damage to the Scarab was likely not the plan.  Still, it wasn't his position to judge the war. Not yet, at least. He'd go where he was told, for now.

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 3 weeks later...

Mordecai was caught off guard by her words. Victory, yes, but still failing. He wasn't one to question, however. Not yet, at least. If she was giving him a chance to redeem himself, he'd take it.

 

"Of course, my Lord. I will return when my task is complete."

 

And with that, he left her. It was much more brief than he'd anticipated, but maybe that was for the better. He had a feeling the longer he spent around the Lords in his current state, the more dangerous it would be for him. 

 

Finding the Dathomiri wasn't hard- she traveled with an entourage, evidently. Finding a chance to speak, however, was not as easy. she seemed to be in the middle of an important conversation, and he wasn't one to ease drop on people who could kill him easily. After she was done, though, he approached, bowing respectfully.

 

"Quela Darksong, I presume? I am Mordecai. Lord Valinor has tasked me with aiding you in your duties. How may I be of service?" he asked, straightening himself as he did do.

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 7 months later...

He could feel her. His shame, his defeat. His hatred. One of the Imperial Pretenders that he had faced over Borleais. Not Ishmael, the one that had scarred him, but his compatriot who's name escaped him. She was aboard one of the Kyber destroyers that the Rebels were trying to steal, the Subservience, named to taunt the workers that held hatred against the Sith occupation. He was aboard a Sith transport, moving to stop the rebels on board. A taskforce followed behind, three dozen Sith troopers with one task- secure the bridge, and keep it from rebel control. Two Lords waited behind him. He'd requisitioned them from their posts under the name of Lady Darksong for the sole purpose of killing the woman who waited. He's face any repercussions for that action after the battle. The battle was only beginning in the orbit of the massive rings that encircled Kuat, light enough to slip through. A comms device in his ear barked orders from the commanders of the battlefield. His own fleet was only minutes out from the conflict, if not closer. It had taken time to regroup after Corellia, his inexperience leading to delays, which even if only a few minutes, would now impact his effectiveness in the naval theater. 

 

With a shudder and a groan, the transport landed. He could hear blaster fire impact the hull of his transport, the troops around him readying for a bloody landing. The rebels had been prepared. No matter, his forces were only the first wave. Secure a beachhead, and take survivors to the bridge. Take no prisoners. That was his mission, and his hatred fueled him. He could feel her. She was here, in the hanger. More than likely, she could sense him too, though he doubted she'd remember him. It mattered not- He would kill her regardless.

 

An explosion rocked the hangar as a transport was hit by a missile, but its momentum carried it into the rebel forces that had shot it down, killing many of them and scattering the rest as burning wreckage rained upon the battlefield.

 

There was a loud hiss, and the exit ramp slammed the the ground, a hail of blaster fire surrounding him as the troopers behind him opened fire. He moved fast- in a second, he had disembarked, the Lords behind him following his lead as he ignited his twin sabers. A bolt flew by his head and was deflected by the sith behind him into a nearby rebel. Two more charged him. There were always a few who tried to take on Sith- they never survived. He severed the arm of one, kicking him to the ground as he shoved his other saber into the second's chest. Around him, Rebel and Sith forces clashed in a rave-hued battlefield as blaster fire of all colors arced across the hanger.

 

Where was she?

 

He charged a squad of rebels- these ones dressed in work uniforms of the KDY technicians. Traitors. Letting out a cry of fury and seething hatred, he cut them down. Evidently, they had not counted on what it meant to truly face down the Sith empire. The fighting was fierce, but with the second wave being minutes out with the rest of his fleet, the battle would be won quickly if he could hold this hangar. To accomplish that, he'd need to kill every last rebel.

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Her

 

He could see her lightsaber. Hear her commands. He pointed her out to the lords, and a lightsaber ignited behind him, the red glow mixing with the bright blue of his own to his right, Lord Fahren, a warrior of some skill. The Lord to his left, Lord Xahl, kept his sheathed, pulling on the Force, commanding it to obey as he barely deflected the flung wing, which still wreaked havoc on their lines as troops scattered to avoid it. The lord grunted with effort- his command of the force was admirable, but against a practiced master such as Cassandra, he wouldn't win any fight through brute strength alone.

 

Mordecai charged beside Lord Fahren, his rage no longer unfiltered. He'd let his reckless fury best him before, and paid for it. It wouldn't happen again. Instead, he channeled his fury, sharpening his mind and his movements. He wouldn't be able to keep up with a Master, but he didn't need to. He simply had to give her someone else to think about. He peeled to her right as Lord Fahren moved to her left.

 

"Don't let her finish her ritual." he barked, warning the other Sith. This battle would need to be ended quickly.

 

Mordecai attacked first. Two simple blows in quick succession, to draw her attention, the force aiding in his speed, followed by a thrust from his left saber to her chest. Lord Fahren circled, and as Mordecai struck, so did he, a slash angled for her torso to start as he pressed close to her, inside of what a comfortable range would be. Lord Xahl, who had bide his time to strike, conjuring a bolt of force lightning while he did so, launched said bolt straight down the middle of the battlefield.

 

((1))

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Mordecai's anger did not stem from anything his opponent suspected. It came from the shame of his previous defeat. It came from his disdain for the Imperial Knights, too cowardly to embrace the dark side and yet too weak willed to fully embrace the light. They were lower than the Jedi even in his eyes. His anger came from those sources, but as the Pretender deflected their blows and threw salt in their eyes, it was directed at her. His previous hold on his emotions easily slipped- He grew bolder. Angrier. He would not lose again. Not here, not now. Not to the Pretender.

 

The salty chalk did its job though. Mordecai and Lord Fahren were forced back, lest their eyes be blinded by the attack. Unblinded and on the defensive now, Mordecai struggled to block the quick attacks- were the attacks directed only at him they would have felled him. But with the attacks directed also at Lord Fahren, it gave them both just enough leeway to block the frenzy of blows. The pull however knocked both duelists off their feet, and while Fahren was lucky enough to roll out of the way from the followup, Mordecai received a gash across his torso for his trouble.

 

Lord Xahl, however, had no such troubles. Left alone, he'd taken his time, his first bolt deflected. He pulled on the suffering of those around him, from the rebel dockworkers, to the injured Sith Troopers, to his injured ally fighting the Master. Lightning crackled at his fingertips, a hint at what was to come. Lord Fahren rolled to his feet, lightsaber in hand and Mordecai followed suit a moment after. The Sith Lord began the attack this time, a flurry of blows coming towards the Imperial Knight, pulling on the force to quicken his movements. Three strikes, as Fahren continued his press into her comfort zone. All he had to do was close the distance... Meanwhile, Mordecai slunk behind her, the pain of his injury adding to his fury and his hatred for the woman. He charged with reckless abandon, the Force strengthening his blows. One from overhead. Another sweeping towards her right arm.

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Lord Fahren knew when to press his advantage. Once, twice he had scored her body. Once a fluke, twice an underestimation of his skill. When she sidestepped, he shoved Mordecai out of the way- the bumbling apprentice would not stand in the way of this achievement. He had many kills under his belt, and this would be the one that propelled him to his title of Darth. He would make sure of it. He saw her hand, moving to catch it at the wrist with his own and his other swung for her raised arm. Only once he made contact did he realize his mistake, the Force tearing down his arm in an excruciating wave that boiled his blood and seemed to cook his flesh. He only survived as long as he did due to the point of contact. His swing continued- if he were to die here, this would instead be his act of vengeance. An arm for an arm, a death for a death.

 

Mordecai stumbled, the other sith's shove unintentionally pushing him from the path of the exorcism. He swung around, watching with disgusted horror as the Pretender worked her despicable sorcery. The sight of it, the smell of burning flesh. His own scalp tingled as he was pushed over the edge that he'd been precariously teetering over the entire fight. He rushed her, aiming to cleave her in two, and with both arms occupied, he was confident as he let out a roar of rage, using the very last of his strength. She'd cast her last sorcery. Killed her last Sith, too, it seemed.

 

Lord Xahl, left unattended the entire battle, had waited for the perfect moment, and had spotted it at the same time as the apprentice. One arm raised, and another mid-cast. His nose began to bleed, and the crimson liquid spashed against the durasteel ground as he overtaxed himself. The pain, the anger, the hatred, the rage, the fury of it all. He pulled on it all with practiced finesse, ozone filling the air as electricity cackled in a hand. In the other, his lightsaber flew from his grasp as he threw it, ignited, towards her raised arm. A second before it collided, he unleashed the fury of a storm, lighting arcing between himself and the Excorcist.

((3))

 

Asset Denial Force: Surgical Strike

Assigned PC: Mordecai Valar

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Victory II Cruiser Wyvern 9/9

Lancer Frigate Dark Hand 3/3 

Tartan Corvette TC-64523 2/1
Tartan Corvette TC-64524 2/1
Tartan Corvette TC-64525 2/1
Tartan Corvette TC-64526 2/1

 

Electronic Warfare Pod: Information Control

Assigned PC: Mordecai Valar

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Acclamator II Cruiser Shroud of Darkness 9/9

Pelta Class Frigate Deceiver 3/3

Thranta Corvette TH-78143

Thranta Corvette TH-78144

Thranta Corvette TH-78145

Thranta Corvette TH-78146

 

Covert Strike Force: Silent Hunters

Assigned PC: Mordecai Valar

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Strike Class Cruiser Coalescent Fury 9/9

Edited by Mavanger

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Lord Fahren's body fell to the ground, the sith lord's skin blistered and burned. He was dead, his last moments spent in agony as the exorcism ripped through his body, made all the more potent by his desperate attempt to stave off the damage with the dark side. Wisps of smoke and steam rose from the corpse, a solemn warning to any that thought to engage the Exorcist as she retreated. Lord Xahl didn't fare better by much, stumbling and falling to his knees after a moment of sadistic glee as he reveled in his success. He coughed, spewing bile and blood as he did so.

 

The cost had been high.

 

Most of the Sith troops had fallen in the fighting, with only scattered troops in the condition to engage the retreating rebels. Mordecai knew his failure. He watched with seething hatred as the battered and bloody Master retreated from the battle. In the time it had taken him to recover for his overextension at Xahl's hand, she'd risen again and fallen in bewtween her bodyguards. Normally, he would have pressed the advantage. But he was injured, and with Lord Fahren dead and Lord Xahl unable to fight, he simply watch with helpless fury as she took her leave, her salute only serving to salt his emotions.

 

His troops scattered and heavily damaged, they couldn't press after her. But they'd taken the hanger, and he could see his own fleet now, dozens of transports departing to board the Subservience and continue the fight. The battle here was over. His fleet needed his orders. With one last longing glance at the Master and the violence that he sought to inflict upon her, he boarded the craft he'd arrived on, Xahl stumbling behind him.

 

The troops who were just landing would have a long fight ahead of them. The rebels were entrenched and knew the ship better than his own did- they'd built it. But he'd done what he set out to do, securing the hangar.

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Mordecai stood aboard his transport, Xahl kneeing ahead of him in pain. The sorcerer fed off of it. Mordecai could feel it now- the swirling mass of darkness around him. He commanded the force in ways Mordecai could not fathom, and yet in the battle he had only managed a measly two lightning bolts, neither of which had killed their foe. Were it not for the witnesses and the wishes of his current master, he'd have cut the man down in his anger. But that would not sit well with the other Sith- blatant powerplays made them... uneasy. He grinned, relishing in his own pain, an untouched cornucopia of raw power. It would sustain him for the rest of the battle. While his duties on the front line were completed, he still had to oversee his forces. He made his way to the cockpit, hailing the Herløv on a secure channel.

 

"Lady Darksong, I was successful in my duties aboard the Subservience have been completed. My forces have established a beachhead and will secure the rest of the ship in short order..."

 

He hesitated. There would likely be penance to be paid for his failure to kill the Exorcist, especially given the loss of a potent Lord.

"... Lord Fahren fell to an Exorcist, Cassandra, and Lord Xahl has been incapacitated by his injuries. We inflicted enough damage to force her retreat, however, and their troops are without support from her and her guards. I'm returning to the Wyvern now to direct my forces in the battle."

 

In the mean time, Captain Jarvus had been given permission to command the ships as he saw fit.

~

On board the Wyvern, Captain Jarvus ran the ship with practiced ease. Officers and enlisted personnel ran between stations as the klaxons sound a full alert. He gazed at the carnage ahead of him in dismay- when he'd heard that Kuat had been attacked, he expected a few rogue rebels, not their entire kriffing fleet. He took a quick assessment of the scenario- He had statuses of both friendly and hostile ships displayed before him. One allied cruiser destroyed, one hostile heavily damaged with countless corvettes fallen in some sort of hopeless charge.

 

He reacted quickly, his forces receiving orders and acting them out with utmost discipline. This was no skirmish, as Corellia had been. This was a real battle. Careers and lives were staked on battles like this.

 

~

 

The Kuat Drive Yards were under siege. Two fleets battle for brutal supremacy in orbit, the conflict visible from viewports and observation decks. On the docks themselves, dozens of Rebel teams had landed to secure the most recent destroyers, manufactured for the Sith Empire. Across the ships, station security battled for their lives and for their honor as rebel dissidents attempted to mutiny the skeleton crews present. Those security forces who had been lucky enough to survive or be absent from the destroyers when the rebellion kicked off worked to thwart them in any way possible. As Vox's crew landed and began executing officers and workers alike, it became clear that there were two options. Fight, or die. Surrender, and they would die. Flee, and the Sith would execute them for cowardice. More Sith poured into the hangar, blasters screaming with fury as they launched hot bolts of plasma at the Trandoshans. One of the officers brought a hand to his earpiece, shouting over the carnage.

 

"They're coming for the destroyer! Cut them off- seal the blast doors and set up fortifications. They've got tra-" he was cut off as a blaster bolt hit him square in his chest, knocking to the ground. He was dead. With no other orders, the Sith troops outside the hangar began sealing the doors. They didn't need to fight the rebels, not yet. All they had to do was slow them down until the Rebel fleet was defeated.

 

Edited by Mavanger

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

[For Vox]

The Kuat Drive Yards were under siege. Two fleets battle for brutal supremacy in orbit, the conflict visible from viewports and observation decks. On the docks themselves, dozens of Rebel teams had landed to secure the most recent destroyers, manufactured for the Sith Empire. Across the ships, station security battled for their lives and for their honor as rebel dissidents attempted to mutiny the skeleton crews present. Those security forces who had been lucky enough to survive or be absent from the destroyers when the rebellion kicked off worked to thwart them in any way possible. As Vox's crew landed and began executing officers and workers alike, it became clear that there were two options. Fight, or die. Surrender, and they would die. Flee, and the Sith would execute them for cowardice. More Sith poured into the hangar, blasters screaming with fury as they launched hot bolts of plasma at the Trandoshans. One of the officers brought a hand to his earpiece, shouting over the carnage.

 

"They're coming for the destroyer! Cut them off- seal the blast doors and set up fortifications. They've got tra-" he was cut off as a blaster bolt hit him square in his chest, knocking to the ground. He was dead. With no other orders, the Sith troops outside the hangar began sealing the doors. They didn't need to fight the rebels, not yet. All they had to do was slow them down until the Rebel fleet was defeated.

 

 

~

[For Johanna]

Whereas the Kuat Drive Yards were crewed by largely station security, the Golan Battlestation was crewed by a hardened compliment of Sith soldiers. While still not enough to fight off a concentrated boarding attack like what the rebels were trying, it was enough to bloody their noses for the station. Defensive turrets whirred to life, dropping from ceilings and from  under the floors. Barricades were fashioned in chokepoints with search and destroy teams deployed to hunt down the rebel forces that were hunting the station's turrets.

 

On the bridge, officers and security personnel alike prepared their weapons, only the most essential remaining at their posts as the hostile boarders got closer. Sith troopers were putting up a good fight, but it was only a matter of time. Holding the bridge would be key.

Edited by Mavanger

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

[For Vox]

On board the ships, Sith and Rebels fought a complex battle of guerrilla warfare. Elevators became death traps as either side sabotaged them for their own gain, hallways littered with corpses from the initial fighting. The rebels had made sure they controlled the most important of the systems, the engines, hyperdrives, the bridge. Sith forces, however, had rushed to the defense. Aboard the destroyer Virulence, a rebel leader met Vox and his comopanion. 

 

"So you're all they could send? Though I suppose I shouldn't judge considering the havoc we watched from here. I'm Kala, I led the rebels on this ship during the first bit of fighting. We have the engine room in emergency lockdown- The Sith need reinforcements to break through. We've lost the bridge, however, and Sith troops are beginning their attack the hyperdrive. If they get through, it's over. They'll blow it up before they let us take it. I have a handful of seasoned troops with me we managed to smuggle on board- whichever objective you push, we'll take the other."

~

 

Mordecai had just barely arrived on the bridge of the Wyvern when the Captain met him with a damage report. Their own actions had been lacking, primarily disabling enemy ships where they could. Their hidden card, the Coalescent Fury had begun to stalk its prey. Their own ships had taken heavy fire from an enemy task force, targeting the electronic warfare pod. The Deciever had wilted almost instantly, lost with all hands on deck. They hadn't launched escape pods- they hadn't been given the time. Mordecai frowned. He was still waiting for a response from Quela, but without one, he'd have to act one his own.

 

"The bridge is mine now, Captain. You've performed adequately."

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

[For Vox]

The leader of the Sith resistance aboard the Virulence was a seasoned Sith trooper, Sergeant Norris Quarl. He'd served in countless Sith campaigns, from Onderon, to Dark Sun, and even when they'd first taken Kuat. He had first hand experience at combating the rebels and their guerrilla warfare, hence why his defense of the ship had gone so well. Now, however, he faced a problem. Despite all odds, a mere two Trandoshan mercenaries punched through his lines again and again. This was a problem. He checked his armor and his weapons. He'd killed wookies before, but these two were clearly more than slobbering carpets.

 

"Corporal Vane, rig the bridge to blow."

"Sir?"

 

"I'll take a few of the others and buy you time. But if we can't have the bridge... then no one can. After you've rigged it, pull your squad and blow it. Don't wait for me, and don't hold the trigger for anything but a direct order from myself. I'd rather cripple one of our ships than let these rebels take it."

 

"Understood."

He turned to the door. "Fizt, Kima. With me. We'll take them like we took those pirates at Coruscant. I'll take the big one, you two mop up the smaller and move to assist."

 

The blast door opened, and they stepped out, shields raised as they moved.

 

"Trandoshans, in the name of the Sith Empire I command you to halt, or face death."

 

Behind him, the blast doors began to seal again as the corporal began rigging grenades and using the few charges he had at his disposal to trap the bridge.

 

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

~

 

[For Johanna]

 

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

 

Those words stuck in Harman's head, on repeat as they faced off with one of the rebel forces. They had orders- don't move. Don't pursue. Blast the rebels if they came. The rebels had tried for a push, but the poor sod who'd gotten furthest had been forced into a glorified cupboard by the turret above. He hadn't needed to fire a shot. he could hear orders being barked over their sergeant's headset, but couldn't hear the details. They were putting up a good fight, but the station's groans and shudders reveal what the ultimate outcome would be if they sat still.

 

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

 

He'd first heard those words from a girl on Nar Shaddaa. He'd grown up in the seedy underbelly, where even law enforcement dared not tread. Openly run by gangs and mafias, he'd learned enough tricks to get by, but still struggled to keep up with the leader of his crew. It had been some of the last words he'd heard her say. She saved up the money from heist after heist, stealing from anyone they could that wasn't already gang territory. When she finally could she'd moved to Carida, asked him to come with her. He almost did. And after what the Sith did to it... He regretted it. She'd died in the attack, but he didn't learn that until after he enlisted in the Sith.

 

Nothing ventured

 

When he learned, it had broken him. But he hardened quickly. Waited. Biding his time, he sat on his anger. His hatred for the Sith. He wasn't true Sith, nor was he even force sensitive. But it motivated him. Now was his chance. An ally that even the Rebels didn't know about. They would learn now that burning an entire world? It made enemies.

He grasped a grenade on his belt, thumbing the pin for a mere moment before pulling it. And then, he waited. One. Two. He dropped it, moving to his feet. Three. His sergeant barked at him to return, calling him a coward. He never saw it coming.

 

Nothing gained.

 

"For Carida!"

 

The explosion rocked the hallway. Scattered sith bodies and wrecked barrier willed the hall. The sith troopers further into the transformer pushed in almost immediately, executing the traitor as soon as they realized what had happened, but it was too late. Their position had been rocked. The Rebels were given their chance.

 

"We have a breach! Stop them here, don't let them push any further! Get another E-Web up and pin those rebels down until reinforcements arrive!"

 

The real battle for the Golan platform was just beginning.

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...

Mordecai snarled as the rebels began mopping up his corvettes. In a few seconds, the Shroud of Darkness's escorts were annihilated, the fire from the other task forces turning their attention to the cruiser itself. They wouldn't last long- He had to make his move now. He gazed across the battlefield, hit hatred and anger at his own failure to kill the exorcist the only thing keeping him standing now. He would not fail again today. He received an encrypted communication and smiled. It seems everything was lining up now.

 

He marked his targets, sent his orders, and played the game of tactical grace that was fleet combat. He felt little for the fallen sailors- they were not his men, they were Lady Darksong's. Her lack of response to his own communications had very clearly stated what he had suspected- he was alone now. He would live or die by the choices he made on the battlefield and nothing else.

 

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

At once, it washed over him. Where anger was blunt and fiery, triumph was sharp, cold. The death and destruction of his enemies hit him with such force that he nearly forgot his injuries. Nearly. His pain was warm, almost its own fire. It burned from the scarred tissue, but there was more to it. The shame of his failure, maybe. And still, over all of it, the cool wash of victory. The rebels turned tail and ran. They hadn't even bothered to finish off his limping task force. The day had taken a heavy toll, though. He watched in sorrow as the Lightsbane erupted into a devastating fireball, felled by a well placed barrage from a previously undetected ship.

 

That barrage gave its position away though. He laughed. It was all that was left aside from their flagship, and if they'd left these two behind in their rush then he was willing to make a gamble that the Imperial capital ship would be next to tuck its tail and run. Suddenly, his knees weakened. His injuries were taking their toll. Had he stayed andfought he would had hit this peak sooner, and on the battlefield.

 

"This battle is over. The bridge is yours once more, Captain."

~

 

[For Johanna]

The Sith had failed. They couldn't retreat to fight the breach- if they did, the rebels that had opened a second front would make it through. They simply had to hope that their lines stayed intact. But it was hope set in vain. All that stood between Johanna and her goal was a single Sith. Not a trooper, but an apprentice. He grinned, twin crimson lightsabers igniting in the darkness, casting hazy beams through the ash and smoke. He grinned.

 

"You should have run when you had a chance. My master says that if I kill you all I'll be lorded, so unfortunately for you, you all need to die."

 

~

 

[For Vox]

 

The troopers held their line. They would let the Trandoshans come to them. They were looking to delay, not to stop. They had seen the footage from the bridge- there would be no surrender. But something was bothering the Sergeant.

 

"Why the Rebels, eh? Seems like you folks love causing pain. Rebels won't like that at all. I don't suppose there's any way to sway you to our side? The Sith don't shun brutality- it's a show of force, of strength. They'd prize you, where the rebels would shun you. If all you are are mercenaries, then allow us to buy your loyalty."

 

The plan was the same of course, but the Sergeant was an enterprising man. Turn these two, and retaking the ship suddenly became much easier. If it didn't work? Oh well, they'd kill the mercs, or at least slow them down. It was all a game for time as the corporal worked, waiting for his comm to beep with confirmation of a job well done, for fire to wrack the ship. 

 

_________________

 

 

Aboard the other Kyber class Star Destroyer, the rest of Vox's forces worked quickly. The ship was under the Rebel's hold in all but name- all that remained was taking the hyperdrive before the Sith blew it up. It was the site of a bloody battle; The sith had given ground whenever the rebels pushed, only for the rebels to be met by brutal traps and crossfires. Corpses from both factions lined the halls. Vox's troops were the finishing touch to a cascading failure of the Sith's defenses, however.

 

They'd given too much ground, and lost too many people doing it. Now they had a final line of defenses. Two dozen troopers holding just outside where the hyperdrive was housed. They were locked out, but not for much longer. In a matter of minutes the door would be open, and it would only take a single well placed grenade to cripple the ship and stop the rebels and their plans.

 

The rebels would need to act fast.

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 6 months later...

As the fleet left Hyperspace, Mordecai was met with the all-too-familiar sight of the Kuat Drive Yards, the massive orbital ring that was responsible for most the ships that the Sith Empire controlled. His purpose for this visit was threefold. First, it would do his campaign well to resupply before they began, making sure they had the ammo and personnel to fight the wars ahead. Second, to recruit more Sith yet to his call. Many would be seeking glory, and many would heed his call. Third was to personally inspect the planet's defenses before he left with a large portion of the Sith Empire's forces. It would do him no good to wage war on the rebels if the Siths' own worlds were vulnerable to attack. He had only just begun to reach out to the local authorities when an ensign spoke up.

 

"My lord, multiple unknown contacts just emerged from hyperspace. They aren't pinging as ours."

 

The rebels had returned then. It was good that he was present then. He had fought them off here once, and he would do so again.

 

"Sound the general alarm. All forces at the ready. Get ahold of my apprentice- tell her to meet me here. I want a defensive perimeter around the orbital defenses, make it a wide one until they start to close in." he said. He didn't know where they would maneuver their forces but for the moment his forces were the only ones between the Rebels and the Kuat Drive Yards. He strode over to the communication center, taking control himself. He was about to do something that required a hands-on approach.

 

"Send an alert to Onderon. Tell the Dark Lord that the Rebels are striking at Kuat once more."

 

_________________________________________________

 

Destroyer Group [Missile]: Sith Resurgent

Assigned PC: Mordecai Valar

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Harrower-class Dreadnought Krayt's Fury 25/25

 

Advanced Warfighter Cadre: Through Power, Victory

Assigned PC: Mordecai Valar

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Interdictor-class Cruiser Korriban’s Retort 9/9

Terminus-class Destroyer Kressh’s Lance 3/3

Gage-class Transport Juggernaut-1 2/1

Gage-class Transport Juggernaut-2 2/1

Gage-class Transport Juggernaut-3 2/1
Gage-class Transport Juggernaut-4 2/1

 

Shadow Warfare Pod: Shadow of Dread

Assigned PC: Mordecai Valar

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Interdictor Cruiser Sadow's Wrath 9/9

Edited by Mavanger

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Mordecai stared into the black as the ships drew nearer and positioned themselves for combat. A massive armada of Sith warships stood against the Rebel scum, and he grinned with savage malice. The slaughter would be marvelous. Aware of his apprentice's arrival, he broadcast a final time to all rebel ships.

 

"Rebels, I am Darth Mavanger, champion of the Kuat Drive Yards and your greatest foe. I will not waste time on pleasantries- Turn back now, or die. To those that will remain, there shall be no mercy. Long live the Sith Empire."

 

His calm was only a facade now. He had received the Dark Lord's reinforcements, but they were paltry. Was that all the Dark King of the Sith could spare? One capital ship and an amalgamation of cruisers and frigates? He sneered. He would do it himself then. Kuat was easily one of the most important planets of the war- with it, and control of the Kuat Drive Yards, the rebels could produce a fleet to rival their own. This would not be acceptable. His rage boiled within, and he nurtured it, nursing it into a raging fury. He would not allow this place to fall. He glanced at Kahla, nodding at her as the Hutt came and went. It would either prove itself more than it let on, or die and be out of his sight.

 

"My apprentice, we stand on the precipice of madness. The Rebels are striking our home, the heart of our fleet. Do not let them take it. I shall be in the thick of combat, holding the Kuat Drive Yards. I leave your actions to your discretion. Either fight on the front lines or command your fleet from your flagship- the choice is yours. May the Force serve us victory."

 

He looked at the captain, nodding. "The bridge is yours, Maran. Pummel them."

 

He turned and strode off the bridge, his armor rustling as he did so. They had already detected transport craft, and the alarm had been sent to the Kuat Drive Yards. After the rebels' last play for the planet, the security had been tightened, more hardened veterans and capable commanders present in the most important junctions and hangars. That is where he would join them. As he walked, he was made aware of a second set of steps behind him. He glanced back, slowing as he noticed Lord Xahl.
 

"Lord Xahl. And so we arrive once more on the edge of greatness. Kuat has been good to us, good to our careers. Let us hold it once more, as a bastion against the chaos of these rebel scum."

 

Xahl only nodded, ever silent, though his emotions were clear on his face. Hatred. He knew little of Xahl's history with the rebels, but what he did know made him understand the man's disdain as well as he understood his own.

 

"We shall have our vengeance, Lord Xahl."

  • Like 1

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Mordecai gazed out over the carnage in his wake. A rebel force had been separated and been forced to touch downs here, right into the maw of the two Sith Lords. Even without troop support, he and Xahl had cut through the rebels with easy. Mordecai stepped over a smoking corpse of a dock worker. He'd been a holdout from the last rebel attack and had tried to shoot Mordecai in the back. A coward's move. Xahl had blasted him with lightning before the damage could be inflicted though. Xahl's head snapped towards the blast door of the nearby junction as blaster fire echoed through the station. With a wispy snarl, Xahl spoke for the first time in days.

 

"Imperials." His voices trailed off in a raspy hiss as his lightsaber reignited.

 

Mordecai looked over, stepping towards the doors. "More fools to the slaughter. They will meet the same fate."

 

Xahl was silent again, and already on the move. Mordecai was right beside him in moments, darkness permeating around them, Mordecai's rage once more bubbling just under the surface, his eyes alight with hatred and fury. They wanted to take the Drive Yards, they wanted to take the home of the Sith fleet.

 

Let them try.

 

They stood before the blast door, waiting patiently as hatred seethed between them. Mordecai had grown silent as well now, his own darkness consuming him, fueling his power as his sabers rested in his hands, quiet. The anticipation rose- Mordecai could feel them just beyond the door. Not just Imperials, but Knights. More than one. A real fight, a real challenge. A real purpose for his blades. It was all he could do to stop himself from pacing, from rushing the door now to fight them where they stood. No- better to let them come to him.

 

Chatter lit up his comms- the fighting was fierce, all over this section of the ring. Dozens of rebel strike teams had met the Sith in combat, with reinforcements from both sides streaming in to replenish the troops that were last. Death and destruction reigned throughout as he waited. he knew what Xahl was doing. Basking in the carnage of it al. His power came from external sources- the carnage of battles, the roiling emotions of others. Mordecai's strength came from within, his own emotions and thoughts powered his connection to the force, sharpened his senses and strengthened his blows, and he had an endless reservoir of these emotions to draw on. He would meet these imperials like he met the ones before, and the ones before that. The Knight Master Cassandra had been beaten back by their blades in the last invasion- What chance did these fools have?

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

As the explosion rocked the bulkheads, Mordecai and Xahl braced themselves. Smoke and debris covered them both, their cloaks and clothes struggling with the speed of the wind as the cacophony reached it's peak, and then... Silence. Gunfire echoed through the station from other fights and battles, as well as the fleets engaging each other in Kuat's orbit, but the here and now was dead silent for a moment. Another passed, and Xahl raised a hand, reaching out with the Force. Pain filled the silence; Mordecai couldn't hear it, but he could feel it. Whatever Xahl was doing the the rebels was devastating. A sickening snap echoed through the hangars, and like a switch, the battle began once more. Mordecai ignited his blades alongside Xahl, content to let the Sorcerer have his fun as he softened the rebel troops. They couldn't see anything through the thick smoke, but they could feel the lives of the rebels on the other side, hear their panic as they retreated.

 

Lightning lashed out from Xahl's fingertips, dancing along the smoky mist in a mesmerizing show of violet-blue light as it arced from rebel to rebel. The pain, panic and death coming from the Rebel forces fuel the Sorcerer in his next strike, an explosion volley of chain lightning. Maybe it was the Force, maybe it was Mordecai's intuition, but before the Sorcerer's lightning had even cleared the smoke Mordecai knew something was wrong, diving away from Lord Xahl in a roll as the lightning shot back, blasting the Sith Lord. To his credit, Xahl didn't fall easily. He intensified the lightning, a soul-shattering wail erupting from the Dark Sorcerer's maw as he battled his own lightning.

 

"I... will not... be denied... my... vengeance!"

 

With a final push with the force, the lightning finally overwhelmed the sorcerer, launching him back with the force of an explosion, his limp body tumbling back into the hangar. Mordecai gazed at the smoking pile of clothes with shock, and then his rage broke through. Xahl, his friend, one of his most trusted allies among the Sith. With his defeat, the only remaining veteran of the last battle of Kuat was Mordecai himself. He rose, his sabers casting an eerie red glow in the fog of war as he approached, his metal boots echoing through the hangars as he approached. Xahl had gotten his vengeance, in the end. He could feel the corpses in the force, their essence torn asunder by Xahl's power. Now, Mordecai would avenge his brother.

 

He broke into a run, cutting through the vapor with a frenzied battle cry as he leapt through the air, directly towards Hunan in a frenzied dash for revenge. He landed a few feet before the Knight, his momentum carrying him into a charge to close the distance as he unleashed a flurry of heavy saber blows, his fury granting him strength, his grief granting him purpose as he stared into the Inquisitor's eyes.

 

His first blow swept overhead, intending to cut across Hunan's chest from his left shoulder to his right hip, his second blow an immediate mirrored follow up with his other saber. His third was a strike from both sabers, coming down right onto Hunan's head if the Knight couldn't avoid it.

 

Xahl's defeat would not be in vain. Mordecai would have his revenge, on the rebels, on the imperials, and on any who dared to stand in his path.

 

((Post One for Mordecai vs Hunan))

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Mordecai was, in fact, thrown back towards the jagged metal, catching the boot to his abdomen with gritted teeth as his armor absorbed most of the impact. He twisted as he moved, his cloak catching on the metal and tearing off as it sparked against his own armor, a jagged piece of metal creating a shallow cut across Mordecai's left arm. He sneered, the pain sharpening his senses as he repositioned, making sure to keep the shuttle and its turrets on the other side of Hunan. He knew the rebels well enough to know they wouldn't risk killing one of their own, not this early or in this manner. He roared, leaping back into the battle with little hesitation, his respect for the opponent lost save for that he was a trained fighter. There was no honor to this duel, no banter between the light and the dark. His only purpose now was to kill this knight, and then, if he could, kill every rebel aboard that craft.

 

Another flurry of blows, fueled by the Dark Side as he poured his emotions into each strike. First, a lunging upward thrust towards the Lasat's chest. His second saber met an opposite thrust, looking to impale the Lasat's knees, seeking to cripple the giant knight. Two more quick slashes flew towards the Imperial Knight's abdomen as Mordecai pressed the offensive in a hatred and agonized frenzy. This... Creature would die. His cowardly apprentice, watching from cover, would die. The rebels trying to flee aboard their ship would die. Every last Jedi, Imperial, and Rebel he saw this day would die a thousand painful deaths before he stopped his onslaught. Defiance and simmering hatred bloomed in his chest as he embraced the pain for his cut arm. Is wasn't a debilitating injury, far from it. But he could use it, draw on it to enhance his blows and his movements. The beast had over a foot on him, but that didn't matter. With the Force bent to his will through his emotions, he would overshadow anyone who dared try to stop him.

 

((2))

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Mordecai, while smaller, was build like a tank. In heavy durasteel armor, he was already large for a human, and with the Force bolstering his endurance, he was hard to stop. His bicep was lacerated by the saber strike, and as he pivoted to avoid the strike to his kidney one of the Tonfas just ever so lightly grazed his face, leaving an angry red welt across his features, something that was sure to add to his plethora of scars. the fourth blow was blocked by his saber, and he continued to press. It wasn't lost on him that his opponent was trying to control the environment around him, though to what end he didn't know. It didn't matter- he would kill the knight here and now in a final combination of blows. He flourished briefly before diving back into the combat.

 

His pain drove him, and he embraced it. What was a normal man's grievous injury was his flesh wound. The pain drove him, kept him on his toes. It fed into his anger, with further strengthened his blows and heightened his senses as he relied less and less on practiced maneuvers and more on the raw power of the Dark Side. He snarled, his first two blows aimed squarely at the Lasat's head. His third was a Force empowered kick from his durasteel-coated boot towards Hunan's kneecap, intending to snap it. He followed up with a furious strike from his right saber, intended to sever an arm, before finally swinging both blades in brutal tandem towards the Lasat's abdomen, seeking to cut the Knight in half,

 

This was it. The final strike, positioning himself where the Dropship couldn't shoot him without hitting Hunan. The culmination of his brutal frenzy- He'd defeated Jedi and Imperials with less- This was the culmination of his abilities, his each move augmented with the Force, the lightsabers in his hands extensions of himself, as he drew on his rage, his pain, his grief. Rage at the gall of these Imperials to dare strike at Kuat yet again. The pain from the injuries received during this duel. Grief at his friend's death. And one more emotion. One deeper, more carnal. One that drove him to battle any chance he got.

 

Bloodlust.

 

((3))

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Mordecai had won. Or so he thought. The Lasat fell to his kick, his knee shattered, but before Mordecai could sate his bloodlust his attention was drawn to an ear-piercing cacophony above him. He glanced up just in time to see the slagged remains of a turret rocketing towards him. He sneered, darting back and out of the way as the hulk of metal tore through the durasteel floor and into the hangar below. Snarling, he glanced up at the knight who nearly killed him, charging the wounded fighter. His chance was over, though. The turret aboard the dropship swiveled to face him, firing his direction. The explosion beneath him sent him tumbling towards where he'd made his entrance, and as he stood, he saw the rebel troopers rallied, pouring from the safety of their dropship with a hail of blaster fire.

 

This, combined with the newest set of burns from his most recently survived explosions, meant that he couldn't finish the Inquisitor. He roared with frustration as a second volley forced him into cover, the hangar shaking with the explosions. The victory had been his, he's defeated the Knight, he'd been ready to claim the fool's head. And now, it was stolen from him. Rage filled his soul even as Sith reinforcements arrived to battle the Rebels. It didn't matter- by now, Hunan would have retreated with the help of his forces. Even he couldn't fight through those forces fast enough. Instead, he glanced back at Xahl's corpse. It wasn't smoking anymore, but the awkward angle at which the body lay told him everything he needed to know- Xahl was dead. He limped to the man's corpse, picking up his lightsaber and placing it in the dead Sith's hand.

 

He lifted Xahl's body in his arms, grief coming over him. Xahl had been more a mentor to him than any other Sith, and after his ascension to Lord, had been like a brother to him. His own family had cast him out, and yet, amongst the Sith, he had found a true family. Lord Valinor, Lord Xahl, Captain Maran. Even Kahla, his apprentice, had earned his respect. And now, he'd lost one of those bonds. Before, his snarls and battlecries had been out of rage and anger. But now, as he held his fallen brother, he let out a wail of grief and loss. Tears fell, the first time he'd genuinely wept since his induction unto the Sith. When he'd left his family, his heart was hardened. When he'd killed his former allies and friends on his arrival to Korriban, his heart had been hardened. With every victory and defeat he'd remained stoic and strong before his allies and enemies. 

 

He stood, hefting the corpse with him as he walked towards the shuttle they'd arrived on. He would not leave Xahl surrounded by rebel scum, discarded on the hangar floor like an expendable slave. With a hiss, the shuttle sealed behind him. He gently laid Xahl's body on the ground, moving to the pilot's seat. He keyed the comms, his voice quiet.

 

"Captain Maran, prepare the hangar. Retrieve my honor guard. Lord Xahl has fallen. He will receive the honors he is due."

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The dropship shuddered as it neared the hangar. The Krayt's Fury was in the midst of an engagement with the Rebel fleet, and it showed. Fighters and bombers streamed through the stacked hangars of the Harrower, and as Mordecai maneuvered his shuttle to the lower hangar, he could see troops streaming past his Honor Guard into their own shuttles and starfighters. He wasn't an expert pilot, far from it, but he'd landed on Korriban at the beginning of this journey. It was fitting that he landed his shuttle now, as an end to Lord Xahl's. As the shuttle's landing gears locked into place and the rear of the shuttle split open to reveal its contents, he stood. Moving from the pilot's seat, he carefully lifted Xahl once more. His brother, the first true family he'd had since he defected. His steps bore a weight beyond that of his physical body, sounding off through the hangar with the intensity of his grief.

 

Sergeant Yolan, the man in charge of his guards, shouted a command, and they moved from a rest to attention, before giving a crisp line of salutes. He walked forward, flanked by the elite fighters of his powerbase, his presence carrying a looming darkness with him that all could feel. He wish he could tell Xahl that he'd had his vengeance in the end, but he hadn't. Not yet. Not until the Rebels and their Imperial allies had been wiped off the face of the Galaxy. He's kill Hunan for this. Then Cassandra and Ismael, and then the damnable leader of their order, Kyrie. None would survive his wrath. none would dare stand against him now- if they did, he would kill them himself. The time for mercy was over. His crusade renewed, he vowed vengeance of his own. This wouldn't stop until he had the False Empress Raven's head at his feet, severed by his saber.

 

Captain Maran was yet to appear- he was still needed to command the fleet. Grief wasn't a luxury that the Captain could afford right now. He would break the news to the rest of his commanders in time- for now, he suffered alone, his soul isolated from anything that could possibly save him. There was little goodness left in his heart. His stoic facade was crumbling, and his control of his emotions, prized within as the iron chain he used to control the Force, was rusting. With each step, his hatred grew. Everywhere he turned, the Excorcists would stand in his way. They stopped his ascension at Borleais and scarred him permanently. In the last battle of Kuat, they stood against him once more, Cassandra taunting him with her escape. And now, again, one of their knights slipped through his grasp after slaying Lord Xahl. He vowed revenge against them all.

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Destroyer Group [Missile]: Sith Resurgent

Assigned PC: Mordecai Valar

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Harrower-class Dreadnought Krayt's Fury 19/25

 

Advanced Warfighter Cadre: Through Power, Victory

Assigned PC: Mordecai Valar

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Interdictor-class Cruiser Korriban’s Retort 9/9

Terminus-class Destroyer Kressh’s Lance 3/3

Gage-class Transport Juggernaut-1 2/1

Gage-class Transport Juggernaut-2 2/1

Gage-class Transport Juggernaut-3 2/1
Gage-class Transport Juggernaut-4 2/1

 

Shadow Warfare Pod: Shadow of Dread

Assigned PC: Mordecai Valar

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Interdictor Cruiser Sadow's Wrath 9/9

 

FLEET COMMANDER EXODUS

 

Artillery Battery: Incendiary (Vulcan)

Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Onager-Class Artillery Cruiser, God of Cinder |10/20|

Imperial II-Class Frigate, Gremlin |0/0|

 

Engineering Support Cluster: Bucket Brigade (Chariot)

Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Providence-Class Carrier, Blood Merchant |9/9|

Interceptor-Class Frigate, Maiden |3/3|

Interceptor-Class Frigate, Iron Moth |3/3|

Interceptor-Class Frigate, Little Wasp |3/3|

Raider-Class Corvette, Left Hand |2/1|

Raider-Class Corvette, Right Hand |2/1|

 

Heavy Brawler Escort: Hammer and Anvil (Colossus)

Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Colossus |35/25|

 

Golan I Space Defense Platform |25/25| (GSDP)

Destroyer Group [Rail guns]: Phantom's Spear

Assigned PC: Kahla Zendrin

Task Force Experience: Green (1XP)

Harrower-class Dreadnaught Phantom's Spear 19/25

 

Mobile Disruption Escort: The Net of Hate

Assigned PC: Kahla Zendrin

Task Force Experience: Green (1XP)

Crusader Class Corvette 2/2

Crusader Class Corvette 2/2

Crusader Class Corvette 2/2

Raider II 2/2

Raider II 2/2

Raider II 0/0

Vigil Class Corvette 2/2

Vigil Class Corvette 2/2

Vigil Class Corvette 2/2

Vigil Class Corvette 2/2

Vigil Class Corvette 2/2

Vigil Class Corvette 2/2

 

Precision Strike Carrier Group: Wings of Glory

Assigned PC: Kahla Zendrin

Task Force Experience: Green (1XP)

Gladiator Star Destroyer Devout Cardinal 9/9

Terminus Class Frigate: Trident of Raxus 3/3

Terminus Class Frigate: Galvanized Spirit 3/3

Terminus Class Frigate: Crimson Crescent 0/2

Edited by Mavanger

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...

Assigned PC: Kahla Zendrin

Task Force Experience: Green (1XP)

Harrower-class Dreadnaught Phantom's Spear 9/25

 

Mobile Disruption Escort: The Net of Hate

Assigned PC: Kahla Zendrin

Task Force Experience: Green (1XP)

Crusader Class Corvette 2/2

Crusader Class Corvette 2/2

Crusader Class Corvette 2/2

Raider II 2/2 Raider II 0/0

Raider II 0/0

Vigil Class Corvette 2/2

Vigil Class Corvette 2/2

Vigil Class Corvette 2/2

Vigil Class Corvette 2/2

Vigil Class Corvette 2/2

Vigil Class Corvette 2/2

 

Precision Strike Carrier Group: Wings of Glory

Assigned PC: Kahla Zendrin

Task Force Experience: Green (1XP)

Gladiator Star Destroyer Devout Cardinal 9/9

Terminus Class Frigate: Trident of Raxus 0/2

Terminus Class Frigate: Galvanized Spirit 0/0

Terminus Class Frigate: Crimson Crescent 0/0

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Artillery Battery: Incendiary (Vulcan)

Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Onager-Class Artillery Cruiser, God of Cinder |10/20|

Imperial II-Class Frigate, Gremlin |0/0|

 

Engineering Support Cluster: Bucket Brigade (Chariot)

Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Providence-Class Carrier, Blood Merchant |9/9|

Interceptor-Class Frigate, Maiden |3/3|

Interceptor-Class Frigate, Iron Moth |3/3|

Interceptor-Class Frigate, Little Wasp |3/3|

Raider-Class Corvette, Left Hand |2/1|

Raider-Class Corvette, Right Hand |2/1|

 

Heavy Brawler Escort: Hammer and Anvil (Colossus)

Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Colossus |27/25|

 

Golan I Space Defense Platform |25/25| (GSDP)

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Destroyer Group [Missile]: Sith Resurgent

Assigned PC: Mordecai Valar

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Harrower-class Dreadnought Krayt's Fury 16/25

 

Advanced Warfighter Cadre: Through Power, Victory

Assigned PC: Mordecai Valar

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Interdictor-class Cruiser Korriban’s Retort 9/9

Terminus-class Destroyer Kressh’s Lance 3/3

Gage-class Transport Juggernaut-1 2/1

Gage-class Transport Juggernaut-2 2/1

Gage-class Transport Juggernaut-3 2/1
Gage-class Transport Juggernaut-4 2/1

 

Shadow Warfare Pod: Shadow of Dread

Assigned PC: Mordecai Valar

Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Interdictor Cruiser Sadow's Wrath 9/9

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Kahla Zendrin vs Kenna Banebridge

First, I want to congratulate both of you. This was an excellent duel, with both party's creativity and writing prowess on full display. I fully believe, for the most part, that these are two low-level fighters who just had the misfortune of running into each other on a larger battlefield. Both characters are played excellently, Kahla finally accepting what it means to be a Sith, and Banebridge very much accomplishing what was set out for her in coming off like a rookie, without making her seem incompetent. I know I often talk about how it's hard for me to read very fluffy posts like these, but this duel made it more than worth it.

 

First we'll touch on the only error either of you made (Very well done on both of you, by the way.) In Kahla's final post, the use of mass telekinesis. This is generally a power reserved for master level sorcerers and consulars, and while others can use it, Kahla has no specific training in telekinesis that would make it a viable piece of her kit.

 

Next, the meat of the duel. The attacks and how they are handled. You both did an excellent job of writing believable attacks and treating them like such. Between the hail of fire from Banebridge and the strikes from Kahla as she closed the distance, this is a great example of how to respect your opponent if you out range them, and if they out range you. There was no 'I run backwards and stay out of range', no 'In a single leap I close the distance' type moves, and you both got the opportunity to work with your toolkits to their strengths (And weaknesses). I want to make particular note of the fragmentation grenade and how it was used as a sacrificial leap by Kahla- she took a decent amount of shrapnel, and as a return she got to use that as fuel for her power and it gave her the ability to propel herself forward with the momentum to close the gap. I also want to touch on Banebridge and her reliance on training to get the job done- A more experience soldier would likely be able to come up with a solution to defeat a Sith on the fly, but she's not that. Instead, she buckles down and makes a gamble on her training, specifically, her training against force users such as the Sith.

 

The last post from Kahla is where the duel is decided. The stun blasts are a difficult attack to respectfully acknowledge, and while it's great that Kahla didn't just deflect all of the blasts, she lost one of the most essential pieces of her toolkit as a warrior, her lightsaber. In doing so, she's forced to perform unorthodox attacks. It's handled well, but ultimately the time it takes for her to recover from a stun blast coupled with the loss of her lightsaber puts her at an extreme disadvantage. In conclusion,

 

Kenna Banebridge is victorious over Kahla Zendrin

 

The next post goes to Banebridge, and I urge you to work together on the conclusion, whatever it may be.

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Mordecai stood from where he kneeled over Xahl's body, glancing warily at the Hutt. Another loss- Whatever Xahl had learned had died with him. It meant that he would take matters into his own hands, soon. As the lightsaber clattered against the durasteel plates of the hangar floor, he stared at it. So, the apprentice had kill his first Jedi. Impressive. Normally, such a feat in combination with the eerie energies around the lightsaber would draw no end of suspicion. Right now, however, Mordecai was blinded to such details by his own grief. He was silent, looking for the correct words. It was worthy of praise, but in light of all that had happened this day, he could not muster the words. They were lodged in his throat and his brain tried to tell him to speak. After an excruciating moment, he spoke softly, in a tone that had long since been removed from his vernacular.

 

"Good."

 

Behind the Hutt, Mordecai caught a glimpse of his own apprentice's dropship. Good, then she hadn't joined in Lord Xahl's fate. He strode slowly past the massive slug as she disembarked. There were already medical teams on standby from his own arrival that he had brushed off, but now he motioned them towards her. He knew what had happened before she spoke, he knew the air around her, the glances her troops were giving her. She had failed. No matter. On another day he may have punished her, berated her. For now, he had surprised himself in his gratitude to see her living. He approached, placing a hand on her shoulder. He didn't speak at first, he simply nodded.

 

"Lord Xahl has fallen, Kahla. Come with me."

 

By now news had spread of the Sith Lord's death- Those of Mordecai's entourage, as well as Xahl's own, had come to the hangar to pay their respects to the body of the fallen man. He stepped before the gathering crowd as his personal guards began moving the corpse. Again, silence. And then... rage. The force channeled through a booming voice, his fury evident on his face.

 

"This was the work of the rebels, the heathens who have now struck down your allies and your homes in triplicate! Gaze upon Lord Xahl, one of the strongest among us, and know- we will have our revenge. We will subjugate every world in the outer rim, and any that align with the rebels will know the losses we've faced today. We will raze entire continents if any dare stand before the might of the Sith. Lord Xahl died seeking vengeance for comrades slain, and now his legacy is ours. Gaze upon his body, burn this image into your mind. You may not have known him as I did, but you have all lost people. Family. Friends. Trusted comrades. His legacy of vengeance is our mantle to bear, and we shall use it to burn whole fleets, to genocide entire armies! We are the Sith Resurgent, and the Rebels and their false empress will know each and every name of those she has wronged!"

 

A cheer broke out from the ranks, but it quickly evolved into a roar for vengeance. His personal guard loaded Xahl's body into a transport before exiting, the ramp sealing behind them with a hiss as the hydraulics raised. Remotely, the shuttle slowly lifted from the deck. A soldier in the crowd began a chant- he didn't know it, and he was too far to hear it properly, but it spread like wildfire amongst the troopers as they stomped their boots on the deck and beat their durasteel armor. It quickly became a din of voices and clattering as the shuttle launched out of the hangar, and as it left their view, angled towards Kuat's star, it began to fade away. It was only quiet for a moment though before a soldier pointed at the rebel ships that were beginning to jump away. Another cheer ripped through the crowd, and Mordecai couldn't have asked for a better ending to the simple service.

 

Xahl's death had set the Sith, troopers and otherwise, to their melting point. His speech had shaped them, their goals, their feelings, their hatred. Now, their victory over the rebel fleet had galvanized them in confidence.

 

The Rebels' days were numbered so long as he lived.

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Mordecai watched as the crowd parted as the man strode forward. Mordecai knew him immediately-  He'd felt this presence before. Once when he was an apprentice aboard the Sith flagship, before his first conflict. He's been victorious that day, claiming the limb of the Jedi padawan that had opposed him. At the time, it had been a great victory, his first battle ending in triumph. He'd not seen the Dark Lord that day, but he had felt him. The second time had been at Corellia- He'd caught merely a glimpse of the Spider that day, dueling a Jedi strike team in the bowels of his ship. Mordecai had come to assist, and had ended up on the wrong floor. He'd only glimpsed the Dark Lord when he'd sent one of the Jedi through a hatch in the floor. Another victory, for Mordecai.

 

But this was his first time meeting the Dark Lord in person. Mordecai stood his ground as the others in the hangar knelt or saluted. He didn't stand in defiance- not yet, at least, but he stood as a matter of politics. He'd heard tales of the Dark Lord, of his powers and exploits, of his conquests in war and in battle. But what Mordecai hadn't done was seen it for himself. An assassin like the Dark Lord would be more than adept at simply pulling strings and leaving the gossiping of the Sith do the rest. His judgement was yet unrendered, but he didn't trust the Dark Lord.

 

"My king." he said simply, giving a polite bow. He would not kneel, but he would not stand in open defiance of this man. Not now, when his wounds were fresh and his mind scattered. His eyes still carried the intensity that they always did, however, as they met the Dark Lord's. He could feel the man's smothering presence, gnawing at his weaknesses, whispering to his grief and rage. He shut it out, lifting his head and straightening his posture. He was dwarfed by the King of the Sith, but it didn't matter. He would not buckled and break at the mere presence of the Dark Lord.

 

"What brings you aboard in our hour of victory?"

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Mordecai listened closely to the Dark Lord's words as he circled them like a shark. The only indication that Mordecai was on high alert in this situation was  a hand resting gently on his own lightsaber's hilt, his head tilted to the side as he watched the Dark Lord size them up. Mordecai's own judgement wouldn't be rendered until he saw the Dark Lord in action, but he carried a Sith sword. An admirable weapon. It was a start, for him. Something that indicated the Dark Lord's true self besides words. That he relied on a true weapon spoke highly of him. He listened patiently as the Dark Lord spoke his decree, closing the distance with a single stride. Mordecai stiffened, his muscles coiling to strike if needed. He spoke quietly now- these words were not for those who watched. 

 

"Your title and position are owed respect, my Lord. I haven't seen if you're worthy of them, but there will be time aplenty for that on the battlefield. The Sith need a stable leadership more than they need a new Lord. You will face no mutiny from me- not as things stand now, at least. On this, you have my word as a warrior." Mordecai replied, matching the deathly whisper of the Dark Lord.

 

It was the truth- Mordecai had no wish to usurp the Dark Lord in these troubled times. To do so would only weaken the Sith. And perhaps, by the time the Rebels were defeated, Mordecai would be dead, or the Dark Lord of the Sith's worth will have been proven to him. The threat against himself was understandable. It was possible that the Dark Lord saw him as a potential rival. But the threat against his people drove at his anger. He forced himself to remain calm- He would use that anger, but not here. Not now.

 

His voice returning to it's natural tone, he responded publicly to the Dark Lord.

 

"You have my gratitude, my lord. I will see the rebels weakened and crushed under the strength of the Sith Empire, and you will be kept in direct contact with my fleet," his voice lowered a final time, in a sentence meant only for the Spider "and when the bloodshed is over, whether in victory or defeat, I hope you will remember that it was I who mustered these fighters for this cause."

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 1 month later...

After his confrontation with the Dark Lord, Mordecai had returned to his quarters, isolated. There, he ruminated on the events that had transpired. His grief. Another victory robbed of him on the shipyard. The Dark Lord's arrival, and their first meeting. The vengeance that would be his. Darkness clouded his mind in those hours, his only respite being action. But his troops needed to recover, his ships needed repairs, and his allies needed to re-assess their own standings. And so, he stagnated in the mire of his emotions, a black mark on his psyche. He remained in that state for countless hours, unmoving.

 

When he finally emerged, he had steeled himself for the coming battles. Despite his disdain for the political games of the Sith, he was now required to participate, and he had played his opening hand poorly. Now was not the time to make enemies- With Lord Xahl dead and Lady Sirena returning to Korriban, his forces were dwindling. The was hope for the new blood though. The Hutt that had slain a Jedi Master, warranting a personal investigation in the near future. The former Sith Lord that was now seeking retraining with his former apprentice. And Kahla, his own apprentice, who had now survived two battles and defeated her fair share of opponents. It was to her quarters that he now strode, a satchel hanging from his waist. When he reached her door, he did not open it. He could sense her there, and he spoke.

 

"Kahla, report to the bridge immediately. Bring the saber." he said.

 

And then, he strode away, towards the bridge himself. As he walked, he pulled out his communicator, contacting his officers and what remained of his war council, and ordering them to the bridge. It would do them well to witness what was about to happen.

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Mordecai stood waiting, his face hard to read. He was stoic in this moment, watching his apprentice as she approached. His eyes wandered, taking in her posture, her stride. She expected punishment. She would instead receive an earned reward. When she neared him, he held up a hand, signaling her to stop as he stepped forward. He was silent for a while, letting her anticipation build. When he finally spoke, it was but one word.

 

"Kneel."

 

When she did, he continued his approach, and when he reached her, he slowed, moving to the side as he circled her. He noted the fresh robes, the saber that his former master had gifted her. He reached out, grasping the weapon with the force and pulling it to him. When it impacted his hand, he took a moment to inspect the weapon. It was an adequate saber, but nothing elegant. It was a tool of destruction that didn't belong her.

 

"Kahla Zendrin, you never earned this saber. It was gifted to you by another Sith for the mere accomplishment of landing on the sands of Korriban. This is not your weapon. It never was, and it shall never be." he said.

 

Without warning, he tossed the saber into the air, igniting his own saber with a sharp hiss as the plasma ignited, and as he swung, he cut the weapon in half, the two pieces clattering against the ground as steam and smoke rose from the ruined weapon. He let the silence build before speaking again.

 

"It is a shame that your deeds and your victories were not acquired with your own blade." he said, his volume rising as he reached into the satchel at his waist. "For a Sith Warrior such as you or I, our weapon is more than a tool. It is an extension of our body, the means through which we enact our wills."

 

He withdrew his hand from the pouch, revealing a pair of pitch black sabers, which he held out to Kahla.

 

"It is with pride that I rectify this situation. Under my wing you have grown from an Imperial mongrel to a true Sith. I hereby declare you a Sith Lord. Rise, and you shall no longer be Kahla Zendrin, an Imperial traitor. You shall be Darth Tyra, a warrior for the Sith and an instrument of destruction to be wielded against any who would defy the Sith Empire. You fleet is yours to command, though you will always have a place here, amongst my forces. Go forth and wage war in the name of the Sith Empire."

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

×
×
  • Create New...