Jump to content

Space


Ary the Grey

Recommended Posts

Mordecai gazed in awe at the sight before him. A super star destroyer, up close. He'd seen them before, on Carida as a child, but that had always been from the surface. Now there was one before him, several times larger than even the city he'd grown up in. Even so, however, with all its might and glory before him, he was skeptical. Yes, an SSD was powerful, a weapon of fear as much as it was a weapon of strenght, but it was a double edged sword. Expensive, and a target. What it had in fear, if it were destroyed it would give just as much hope to their enemies. It was slow and cumbersome, as well, and susceptible to a number of strategies

 

As they boarded, Mordecai fell behind his master. Clearly this was the flagship... but who was in command?

 

"My lord, who commands this vessel?" he asked. Whoever it was had to be important. Either an officer of the highest prowess, or another sith lord, and likely a dreadfully powerful one at that.

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 1 year later...

"My home is wherever I am, Jackson. But seeing as how you are the one already in the EVA suit, I'd be more comfortable if you came here. I'm not sure the good Captain here even has one that would fit me. I promise you your ship will go unharmed, as will you. I'll be waiting outside the airlock for you."

 

She stepped away, nodding at the Captain as she stepped out of the cockpit. She was still cautious- he might try to run still, but the fact that he responded to her hail left her feeling good about her mission. If he had done something against the code, or if he was hiding from them, then ho would have run. No, she was confident there may just be a deeper misunderstanding as to his absence. Her mission was to see if he could be re-integrated into the Jedi Order, and if he could, then it was her job to train him. She had doubts, of course. Was she the best choice to train this man? He seemed at home among the metal jungles of scrap and ruin, whereas she preferred to keep her feet on the ground on whatever planet she visited. She didn't even know where his last master had left their training.

 

Still, it was natural to have such doubts. That didn't mean she needed to become consumed by them. The Jedi were spread thin- Any Knight or Master available needed to be training an apprentice if they could. The Order needed all the help it could get. The juxtaposition of their specialties could lead to interesting enlightenments for both, furthering both of their knowledge. He may have fled before he finished learning, but he'd clearly learned skills while he was away, and she could always evaluate him as they spoke to see what he needed.

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Kadi raised an eyebrow at the man's display of his weapon. The outer rim hadn't done him any favors if this was his response to a parley. She hadn't come all this way just to fight him.

 

"There's no need for that, Jackson. If I meant you harm I would have brought a warship, and if I wanted your cargo I would have brought my lightsaber. As for how I tracked you down? That's what I do. I'm a wayfinder, a Jedi Guardian who excels at tracking and finding people who'd rather not be found. There's always a trail, you just have to know where to look. I'm here regarding your time as a Jedi Padawan, on behalf of the Jedi Council. All I want to do is talk, none of this-" She motioned at his lightsaber "Veiled threats business. I'm not Sith, and neither are you."

 

She stepped forward, motioning again, though this time towards a point deeper in the vessel.

 

"I don't suppose you have a place we can sit?"

Edited by Mavanger

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 3 weeks later...

Kadi nodded as he spoke, though she was concerned in his interest of Vapaad. It was a dangerous form, and more than just a physical mantra. Beyond the use of the blade, it was a mindset, one that if not mastered would easily send him into the endless abyss of the Dark Side. She kept her concerns to herself for now- this wasn't a question to criticize him, merely to gauge his abilities. He seemed capable for a padawan, though mistrusting. She briefly wondered what had caused that mentality in him. That was a question for another day, however. Other than that, it sounded like he'd made good progress, but he still would require proper training. Knowing how to use the force in certain manners was one thing, knowing when and for what purpose was another. There was also the concerns of his attitude- mistrusting, half truths and the like were dangerous for a Jedi.

 

"Then it's settled, I suppose. I will finish your training, and take you on a few missions on behalf of the Jedi council. Afterwards, I can better assess your abilities, where you can improve, and if you're prepared to become a Jedi Knight."

 

She stood, glancing back at the entry to the ship she'd arrived on. He could probably bring his own with them, but she wanted to have a chance to discuss his training with him. Alas, it was not to be. As she opened her mouth to speak, her communicator chirped with an incoming call.

 

"One moment please, Jackson." A voice crackled across the room as she answered the call, fuzzy from poor connection.

 

"Kadi, how's your mission?" It was her old master, calling to check up on her.

 

"Going well. I've found Jackson, and he's agreed to return to the Jedi for further training."

 

"Fantastic!" The voice exclaimed, before trailing off. "There's a system near your last transmitted coordinates, I'm sending it to you now- its star is preparing to go supernova, and the citizens need all the help they can get evacuating. We'd send transports, but there are magnetic anomalies that wreak havoc on larger vessels. Your new task is to take Padawan Jackson with you to help these people evacuate. I'm afraid I can't spend much time catching up- there's something big going on here. I'll tell you more when I know what."

 

There was a small series of beeps, and the call was ended. She looked at Jackson, giving him a shrug. "The work of a Jedi is never finished. I'll transmit the coordinates to you, and we can meet back up in orbit before we begin evacuating."

 

"

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 1 year later...

There was one last thing he had to do. As the other Sith filed out of the shuttle into the Sith vessel, he closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat. Inmortos had gone down with the station, an unfortunate loss. But he doubted the master Necromancer would die so easily. No, he'd be back. Death had as little grip on the Krath as it did on himself. A monkey paw's curse. Immortality, but a life of pain and loss and grief. All that was left, the only reprieve he could find, was vengeance. Cassandra's death, Raven's. Every rebel he'd killed, every monarch he'd toppled, none of them were an equivalent exchange for the single one he's lost.

 

And yet, it was all that came close.

 

He forced himself to his feet, the weight of his armor holding him back. It was more than physical nowadays- it was an emotional leash, a psychological weight put in place by time after time of being handicapped at his moments of triumph. But this time- It would be his last, whether he won or lost. Even if death still refused to claim him, he would be done. Of that he was sure.

 

He pulled out his comm device, keying it to call the last piece.

 

"Lord Akheron, return to the shuttle immediately. Seal the entrance behind you. We have much to discuss."

  • Like 2

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Darth Mavanger watched in amusement as Lord Akheron swept for bugs and placed a rather overkill number of guards outside of the ship. As he finally returned, sitting before the Sith Warmaster, Mavanger took a drink from a cupboard. The ship was not only a stealth transport, but as it had been furnished for Sith operatives and members of Sith Intelligence, it had a healthy amount of luxurious hardware. He poured himself a glass- A bothan wine, from a manufacturer he didn't know. No matter, it was a formality more than anything. He poured a second glass, placing it upon the table before him.

 

"Help yourself if you wish, Lord Akheron."

 

He took a drink, watching the man's actions carefully.

 

"Tell me, what do you believe the cause of this meeting to be if you have placed so many guards and performed such a diligent sweep for bugs? Do you not trust your own crew? The fellow Sith who just aided you in a mission most dangerous?"

At a glance, he was at ease, more interested in the drink before him that the Sith that now sat opposite. But this, hopefully unbeknownst to the veteran Lord, was a test. A measurement of his character. A chance to see if his hunch was correct. His answers here would laregly steer the conversation, for better or worse. He would either be found a worthy ally, or a hapless pawn.

  • Like 1

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

As Akheron spoke, Darth Mavanger shook his head. More talk of the Fanged God, of a fate that wasn't his to control. The man had been so neutered by his faith in this... cult, that he had forgotten what he was. It would be Mordecai's duty to rectify this mistake. While Nyrys's new shadow empire would sow discord and discontent within the new galactic government, he would remove any vestige of weakness and misguided faith from it. While he disagreed with the Dark Lady's methods, the deed was done, and the only chance to succeed would be to ensure that the Sith were at their very best when they were ready to return.

 

"I don't recall asking for privacy, only for you to close the ramp behind you. Had I wished to remain anonymous, however, such a guard being placed outside defeats such a purpose. In truth, their presence matters not. What leaves this room after this conversation is for you to decide."

 

He pulled himself to his feet, moving to the Ysalimiri enclosure that had protected them on their way into the Helvault. The beasts had been disposed of shorty after their retreat, and now the terrarium lie empty, still as the day it was created. No evidence that life had ever congregated within.

 

"Are you able to recite the Sith code, Lord Akheron? Did your master ever teach you its proverbs? Help you understand it's meaning?"

  • Like 2

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 3 weeks later...

"You know the code, but you do not understand it."

 

Darth Mavanger turned to look at the Sith Lord before him.

 

"There are those among the Sith who believe you to be ready for the title of Master. I am to be the judge of that. While none question your ability to fight, I question your loyalty. Your beliefs. Your dogmatic fanaticism to the cult that you've fallen in with raises concern. In the Sith code, we speak of chains to be broken. Not just physical chains, but mental chains. To be a master of the Sith, you must be above the chains of the lesser man. How can you claim you have broken free of yours if your every move, your every victory, is snatched away from you by some false god taught to you by a wayward cultist? There is a reason those that blindly follow gods do not rise above fodder."

 

He set his glass down, his eyes finally meeting Akheron's in judgement. 

 

"What separates us is that you are a cultist blindly following a deity that if it exists, does not care for you or your struggles, seeking to be deemed worthy. I am a Master of the Sith Order, and I am the one who passes judgement, the one who people blindly follow. Lord Akheron, the true question to be asked of you here, is whether or not you are too blinded by faith to cast off your chains and rise above the fodder to show the galaxy why it should be you, not some dark god, who passes judgement on the worthy and unworthy alike?"

Edited by Mavanger
  • Like 3

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 3 weeks later...

Darth Mavanger nodded. He'd heard enough- While Akheron clearly believed in his god, his declaration was a good start. 

 

"The road ahead is long, Lord Akheron, and you will have many trials ahead of you. The galaxy has fallen into the hands of the rebels, and the power that is rightfully ours has been stolen from our very grasp. The Jedi and Imperial Knights, despite their losses, walk openly in the galaxy once more. The Dark Lady has plans for a shadow war, anonymous terrorism and assassination. This is not a fight for me- the time is for those amongst our order who did not have a chance to show their worth under Darth Exodus to do so now. And to do this, you will have the backing of the Sith Empire as a Sith Master. By taking the first steps to casting off your chains, you have passed your trial. Masterhood is yours- use it well, or die trying."

  • Like 2

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 5 months later...

When Darth Mavanger woke, he felt a deep rage in his heart. More than the flashfire of wrath that he'd felt in battle, at slights, at poorly thought out decisions. This was an unfathomable sense of hurt, of grief, of denial.

 

Was it defeat? It wasn't alien to him. The greatest lessons were learned from the worst losses. It stung, but in the grand scheme of things it was for the better. The Sith were supposed to be in decline, and his public defeat on Falleen would hopefully sell that narrative. An empire in decline, even the most dangerous among them losing ground. No, this wasn't what angered him.

 

Maybe it was Darth Akheron's disregard for the Sith's plans, his endangerment of the Sith Worlds by not only bringing a defense force, but losing them too. It was blatant disregard for the current state of the galaxy, and the consequences would surely rear their head in the coming months. But he'd faced this before. Inmortos on Naboo, his own insolence on Kuat. No, this was the way of the Sith. To test the bounds, to try their hand even when the cards were against them.

 

He thought back to the fight, and with some digging, he found it. The thorn in his psyche. The wound in his mind. That a Jedi Master, the masters of sympathy and healing, couldn't understand what loss was. A declaration that because he had lost less than the wookie, that what he felt was a lie, was weak, was a result of weak temperament. His rage stemmed from the understanding that the one who could understand, who knew what it felt like to lose everything, denied his grief so viscerally.

 

His eyes snapped open as he heard a voice, and his mind returned to his body. His mask was gone, a source of cold against his neck. A young girl knelt over him, asking if he was okay.

 

Empathy? From a girl so young? Did she not know who he was?

He sat up, looking around. He was on a ship, filled with refugees. Why was he still alive? The Wookie hadn't killed him. Yet again, the weakness of the Jedi failed to stop him. Failed to end the cycle. How could the Wookie claim that he didn't know true grief, true loss, when his own losses couldn't even drive him to kill an enemy determined to slaughter his people? And yet, this young girl help empathy in her heart.

 

"Where am I?"

 

His voice was low, lest he wake the sleeping passengers. A Sith, even unarmed, could cause a panic in such close quarters.

  • Like 1

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Refugees. Cowards. They fled their homes rather than take a stand. Even traitors had more honor than these people. His mind churned with various thoughts and emotions. Potential actions and reactions. The girl spoke again, asking to treat his shoulder. In truth, he barely felt it, the pain feeding his consciousness, but he knew the risks of infections and nerve damage. He reached up to his shoulder, peeling the pauldron away with little effort. He placed it gently on the ground, the metal heavy in his hands. He watched her work with sorrow.

 

"Do you know who I am, girl?"

 

She surely didn't. If she did she would have woken her peers, and they would have jettisoned him out the airlock. She would have drove a knife through his throat while she had a chance. It was strangely comforting- that the person before him didn't know who he was, or what he was capable of. The Sith knew him everywhere. Those that didn't know him by name or by reputation, knew by his presence. The Sovereign Knights were the same- they recognized his threat, and they had no intentions of sparing him.

 

"Why do you help me?"

  • Like 1

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

How did this young girl, barely into her life, have more empathy than Jedi Masters? He placed the cold against his bruised neck, relishing the pain, but also the relief. He wondered if it was ignorance that drove her lack of fear, a fundamental disconnect as to what a Sith Lord was, and what they did. Kirlocca had known- and yet he had spared the Warmaster. He hadn't even taken Darth Mavanger into custody. He knew that this was the weakness that was evidence of his great blasphemy- The denial of Darth Mavanger's grief, his sorrow, his loss.


And yet, he was so tired.

 

Tired of the pain. Of the loss, Of the war.

 

Of the fight.

 

But he wasn't done yet.

 

As he stood, he contemplated what came next. Retribution. The cycle would continue. Pain begot pain. Grief unto grief. His life would lead to more death. Maybe Kirlocca had defeated him, stolen his victory and replaced it with a lock of his own hair, as though they would meet again on day as friends. He didn't understand grief. Not like Mordecai did. His was deeper than loss. It was more than the death of the man he loved. More than the deaths of his friends and allies.

 

It was guilt.

 

Deep down, he knew. He knew that he was the reason they had died. Those he cared about, those he fought beside. They had trusted him, they had followed him to war, and they had all died for it. The cycle began with him. and every revolution pulled him deeper into his despair. He knew this. He had always known this. He knew how to break it, but there was one last thing to do before he did. He would ensure his vengeance survived him. His fight was almost over, but hers? The Jedi Guardian would never spare another Sith, if he even survived. He could feel it, deep in her soul. She knew the Force, even if she wasn't aware of it yet.

 

"You have done me a kindness. But it's too little. Too late. I've fought too long to let my enemies survive now. And so, young one, I offer my sincerest apologies for what comes next." He lifted one of his blades, the Edge of Terror. It was chosen for a purpose. The tool of his strike, of his gambit. He wasted no time in moving, and with two strides he had plunged the blade into the heart of the first refugee.

 

The slaughter had begun.

  • Like 2

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"You don't understand. But you will. And when you do, when you understand the lesson I am teaching you, you will understand what must be done. What should have been done, countless times."

 

He pulled the blade free, blood spraying against the bottom of the bunk above the now deceased man. As he brought his blade up, the young girl grasped his arm. A fruitless endeavor. Even in his current state, trained warriors would have trouble slowing him down. With his free hand, he gently grasped her shoulder and pushed her away. She would never thank him for this. He knew that. He was altering the course of a life with every step. Every swing. Thus was the power of terror.

 

"Watch. Listen. Learn."

 

He raised his blade high, and brought it down on the next refugee's neck, slicing through steel and flesh alike as he severed the woman's head. The blade was almost silent, the resistance nearly non-existent. He looked down. On the ground level lay another, looking up at him with a bloodied face and frightened eyes. He reached down, dragging the cowering man by the hair across the ground before dropping him and bringing a massive armored boot upon his neck.

 

"You cannot stop this."

 

Another refugee tried to run towards a door. He reached out with the Force, yanking him closer, the force impaling the man's abdomen with Darth Mavanger's outstretched blade. A strong pull, and the sword was free, having nearly cut the man in half as it looked for freedom. Blood arced across the cabin, a wicked spray, driven by the force of his fury.

  • Like 1

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The silence broke as a man screamed, and in a moment, the entire cabin erupted. The killing had begun in earnest now and he moved to kill the next man before him, but stopped short when he felt it. A vain effort to stop him, an attempt on his life, fueled by hatred. The girl tried to stop his heart. A step in the right direction, but she wasn't there. Not yet. He fought her off with relative ease, grasping the man's neck.

 

Darth Mavanger's attention moved back to the girl

 

"No. Not yet. Not until you understand the mistakes that have led to this slaughter."

 

Anger filled him, and with a powerful squeeze he could hear the sickening pop as his neck was snapped and his spinal cord broken.


He fell limply from Darth Mavanger's hand as another tried to run past him. A young boy, likely the same age as the girl. Another future severed as his blade caught an arm, sending the barely surviving boy to the ground. He would likely not survive his wound for long. Another refugee, this one met with a knee driven into her ribcage hard enough to shatter ribs like shrapnel, tearing through her body.

 

"This could have been prevented, if not for one's mercy."

  • Like 2

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

He heard the blade before he saw it, scraping across the ground as it was lifted by the girl. He turned in time to see it sailing towards the window of the freighter. The pommel impacted the window with enough force to crack the window, toppling to the ground, and a quiet hissing was the only warning he had. He slid forward, grabbing his helmet at the girl's feet and placing it over his head. The window shattered from the pressure just as he threw a force barrier up around the girl. She would know this lesson, even if it claimed his life.

 

Especially if it claimed his life.

 

The cabin violently decompressed, throwing the denizens against walls and sucking the air from their lungs. His own exposure to the vacuum drained him- It chilled his blood, it darkened his vision, even with the assistance of his mask. It took everything he had to plant his feet and hold his ground while maintaining the barrier. The few survivors clawed for air that wasn't there, their blood boiling in the near-zero pressure as the died terrible, visceral deaths. It was nearly a full minute before the old ship's security systems located the breach and a blast shield shut it off. 

 

When it was over, everyone was dead. He threw off his mask, falling to his knees as he coughed and sputtered, struggling for breath as the Dark Side returned to him, doing what it could to sustain him. He looked up- The barrier had held the vacuum at bay. Good. He smiled sadly as he looked up at the lone survivor.

 

"Now, yo-" His body was wracked with pain as he coughed violently, blood spattering across the durasteel flooring, mixing with that of his victims'. "-you know. They might have survived if you hadn't-" Another round of coughing, this one much worse. He wouldn't be long. Maybe this time it would stick. Maybe she could end it, and avenge him, even if she knew not what she did. "If you hadn't taken action."

 

He pulled on the Edge of Sorrow, the twin blade of the blood soaked Edge of Terror, and it slid slowly across the floor, his power waning here and now. He threw it at her feet.

 

"Do it. Avenge them."

  • Like 1

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Revelation.

 

The refusal of the call. The denial of vengeance, and the words that deep down, he'd wanted to hear. From Cassandra. From Kirlocca. From this girl. That he had done this to himself, and despite it, that he could be better. That his path was not the only one. That the cycle could be broken. That his chains could be lifted.

 

"A lonely death is what I have given myself, child."

 

He pressed the blade into her hands softly, making sure she held it tightly. His voice was low, and hoarse. The words of a dying man, spoken with the knwledge that they would likely be the last he ever spoke.

 

"The blade's is name in ancient Sith, Imeall Dólás. The Edge of Sorrow. The manifestation of loss and grief. And now, a reminder of what such things can do. Keep it. Remember the lesson you have learned here."

 

He stood, groaning as pain shot through his body. An old friend, here to comfort him in his final minutes. He knew what came next if he didn't stop it. It happened on Naboo. It robbed him of his warrior's death. It perpetuated the cycle. He saw his reincarnation as what it truly was now- A twisted tool of the Dark Side. But knowledge wasn't freedom, and he knew if he came back this time, even more of who he was would be lost.

 

He grabbed her wrist, dragging her to the door leading to the next compartment with what dregs of strength he could muster. He hit the release, and it hissed open. Those on the other side were still blissfully asleep- the cabins were soundproofed, a necessity for large scale transport like this. He pushed her through the entry, holding her there for a moment.

 

"This is the way it must be. To break the cycle. To break my chains, and be truly free. That is the way of the Sith, in life... as in death."

 

He sealed the door with her on the opposite side, driving the accursed Edge of Terror into the controls, shorting them out. He left it there, abandoned, as he unclasped his cloak. It fell like a wave, tattered cloth drifting to the ground. He removed his remaining pauldron next, letting it tumble to the deck of the starship. With each piece, he was closer. Closer to freedom. To salvation. His bracers  came next, and then his gloves. Finally, he undid the clasp of his chestpiece, letting it fall to the ground, with all the weight of his anger. His fury. His rage. His loss, his grief, his guilt. All that remained was the bloodied suit underneath.

 

Mustering everything he had left, he launched a wave of destructive energy at the wall of the cabin, tearing a massive hole in the side of the ship. In a heartbeat, he was sucked into the void. In his final moments, Mordecai smiled. The wheel was broken.

 

It was over.

  • Like 1
  • Sad 2

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 4 months later...

Captain Ralos was uncomfortable with the presence of the Sith sorcerer on the bridge. Them man twitched uncontrollably, his face and body constantly contorting as though he were constantly withdrawing from death stick, or some other more nefarious drug. He had introduced himself as a fulgurmancer, capable of helping track down her missing leader. Darth Mavanger had left them nearly two years ago, after he had slain the Empress Raven and cemented himself as one of the foremost Sith in what little of the Empire remained. He'd finally dropped out of contact with the remaining Sith a few months ago.

 

At first, she'd hoped he was taking the time to finally center himself after her predecessor's death, and retreat from the Sith politics. But as the time drew on, and she'd heard whispers of his death, she knew that wasn't the case. That was when the Fulgurmancer had revealed himself, telling her that he knew where to find her fallen general. It was an offer too good to be true. She knew the prices Sith extracted for their services, and she had no intentions of delivering her commanding officer to such a man. Another coughing fit wracked the man's body, and she glanced at him, half worried that he'd short circuit the entire bridge now that they were in deep space.

She'd changed her tune when the new Dark Lord had disappeared as mysteriously as she'd arrived. Without her, the Sith were scattered and alone, being picked off one at a time as the Jedi and Sovereign Knights worked throughout the galaxy. If the Sith had any hope of rebuilding, they'd need a strong leader. A Warmaster. It was then that the Sith spoke.

 

His voice was like the whisper of static, the first time she'd heard it since she'd welcomed him aboard and he'd told her to focus her search on the hyperlanes between Falleen and Carida.

 

"We're close. I can feel his rage even from here."

 

That was all the evidence she needed.

 

"Launch the fighters and the transports. He's close. Once you find him, bring him aboard and give him plenty of space."

  • Like 1

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The troops in the mess hall around Manda'lor the Zealous and his people had shown them comradery thus far. They'd served alongside Tros and his warriors several times, and had seen firsthand their abilities and their commitment to the cause. Captain Ralos also knew that Tros had been a trusted associate of Darth Mavanger, and had asked him so accompany her vessel in their search. There was a familiarity among the troops that came from sharing a cause, and from the bonds forged in war. This was the strength Darth Mavanger had fostered- Where other Sith Lords had fostered paranoia and competition, Darth Mavanger had always sought to unite the Sith war effort under a single unifying plan. That had been what made him so successful in the Outer Rim, what had made him a beacon for the up and coming Sith Lords, and had made him a stalwart ally to three Dark Lords so far. 

 

One of the shock troopers, an elite veteran of both Nar Shadaa and Naboo, approached the table. He gave the ruling mandalorian a sharp salute before speaking.

 

"Manda'lor, your presence has been requested in Hangar A1. We have him"

 

__________

 

The shuttle that carried Darth Mavanger was an older one, likely left over from the days of the Empire's control of the galaxy. It had seen conflict after conflict, it's old hull marked with every fight it had seen. The hangar had been emptied save a select few people- only those that Captain Ralos felt she could trust. Herself, her second in command, the Sith Fulgurmancer, and a squad of troopers loyal to only her and the man being brought in. All that remained was to wait for the Mandalorians to arrive, and see what the Fulgurmancer had planned once the shuttle was opened. In truth, their presence was more for Darth Mavanger's safety than her own- If he came back to life like he had on Naboo, he'd be most vulnerable right after, and if the Sith who was present was looking to pad his portfolia with the slaying of the Sith Warmaster, she didn't want to be the one who gave him the key.

  • Like 1

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

As the last of Darth Mavanger's closest allies and followers filtered into the room, the fulgurmancer shuffled forward, his body wracked with a fit of coughing as though the very notion of physical activity gnawed away at the man's corrupted and twisted flesh. He looked around, a wicked smile having taken residence upon his face. The fallen Darth Mavanger's body was carried off of the shuttle by no less than four troopers, struggling under the weight of the already large man's weight bolstered by his sithsteel armor.

 

"Good, his body is intact. Even now, long after death, I can feel his rage. His hatred. His power. It is but an ember now, but it can be... re-ignited, so to speak, given the right catalyst."

 

He placed a hand on the corpse's armored chest, breathing deeply as he began to chant. It was quiet at first as he wove his dark necromancy into the body. It was a talent he had hidden until this moment, though it didn't surprise Ralos. She had always assumed he had some way of reviving her commander. His chanting grew louder, and the smell of sulfur wafted through the hangar as the necromancer channeled his power into the body.

 

Even though she expected it, it shocked her to see Darth Mavanger's eyes open once more.

 

_____________

 

The first thing Darth Mavanger felt when he resurrected for the second time was the Force. The smothering blanket of rage and fury that perpetually burned within his soul.

 

He had been so close to oblivion.

 

So close to all this hatred being forgotten, lost forever.

 

So close to true freedom.

 

To peace.

 

And yet, as he began to take in his surroundings, he knew that he had lost his chance. His ploy had failed- The Sith had found him even in the deepest, coldest vacuum of space. He looked upon the man who had brought him back, the blackest rage he'd felt in years filling every fiber of his being as he began to move, sitting up.

 

"Darth Mavanger, Warmaster of the Sith, I command you to kneel before me"

 

Darth Mavanger felt the trick as the command was spoken- The necromancer hadn't just brought him back, cursed him once more with the rage and anger that had become his very nature. He had woven a dark magic into the spell he had used to do so, one meant to control his body and his will. He rose, turning to face the man. He felt the confidence of the necromancer falter as he rose to his full height, wordless. He took a step forward, and the fulgarmancer took one back.

 

"I command you to kneel, Darth Mavanger!"

 

The first thing that the Warmaster had done when he rose had been to shatter the frail bonds the necromancer had tried to shackle him with. The spell had been meant for weak willed corpses who couldn't fight back. When faced with a Sith of greater power, who's very presence in the Force ate the light. Wordlessly, he lunged, grabbing either side of the man's head, pressing his thumbs into the other Sith's eye sockets, feeling the man's eyes give way to his gauntleted fingers. The man tried to grab the Warmaster's wrists, to send his lightning through Mavanger's body, but to no avail. He let out a panicked scream as Darth Mavanger's grip tightened.

 

"Never again shall I kneel to another."

 

Blood and viscera and brain matter sprayed across the floor as the Sith's skull gave way to Darth Mavanger's hands, imploding with little resistance as he threw the now lifeless, still twitching corpse to the ground, breathing heavily as he looked around.

 

"Anyone else?"

  • Like 2

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

In truth, there was only one warrior amongst those gathered who could hope to defeat him. His eyes found Tros Ardell, Manda'lor the Zealous, the last true son of the Crusaders. The legacy of the Mandalorian people, his title bestowed by Terra herself. He knew the threat this man may have posed. For a moment, he wondered if the now dead Sith had brought him here as protection, insurance against Darth Mavanger should the bonds prove ineffective. If so, the man had underestimated his own ability to survive close quarters with a warrior.

 

He braced himself for combat as the Mandalorian warriors surrounding them stiffened, his eyes meeting those of the Manda'lor. And then, the man kneeled. He offered his service to Darth Mavanger, an unwarranted pledge of fealty and loyalty. And he remembered what had driven him before Nar Shaddaa. Before Naboo. The pride he felt at leading warriors to their victory, at a campaign well run, and well earned victories. 

 

Tros Ardell had pledged himself in hopes of reclaiming those days, and he would not be disappointed.

 

"Rise, Manda'lor the Zealous. As long as you are my ally, you will stand on your own two feet, as a warrior. As a Mandalorian."

He looked around the hangar, spotting Captain Ralos. So she was the one that was responsible for this. His faithful captain, unaware of the position she had inherited. Loyal to the end. She must have spent many months looking for him, judging from the appearances of those around them.

 

"Captain, head to the bridge and prepare for a hyperspace jump. You'll have a destination once I am caught up on the state of the galaxy."

 

He looked at Tros, nodding. "Walk with me. It would do good for the troops to see me alive once more, and you can inform me on the current state of the Sith. Most importantly, is the plan working?"

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Hearing the true state of the Sith drove a dagger of loss into his chest. Everything he had fought for, and his worst fears had come to pass. The Sith had scattered, and their feigned defeat had become a true one. His worst fears, that Nyrys's plan would lead to the Sith Empire's downfall, had come to pass. What that meant for him remained to be seen- He knew the Sith needed real leadership, strong leadership, but it wouldn't do them any good to splinter here and now. He needed a plan.

 

"What of Darth Calypso? She proclaimed herself Dark Lord, and she had the power to back that claim. She will be a threat to my leadership if she decides to oppose me."

 

He was quiet for another moment, before broaching the rest of his thoughts.

 

"We'll need to find the remaining Sith ourselves for two reasons. The first is to declare my new position, but also to rally them and give purpose and direction. If you aid me in this, then when we crush the Sovereign Knights and their puppet empire, I will give you your wish. The Mandalorians will be whole once more- You will hold Mandalore, and your people will be vassals under the Sith Empire, free to recruit from your own and enforce your own laws so long as you continue to the reigning Dark Lord."

 

He knew the implications of his words- If he were to be usurped, or defeated, or replaced by another Sith, Tros's loyalties would likely remain to the throne. But that was the Sith way- To take power from those above, and if he were to tie Manda'lor's allegiance to his occupation of the throne, it would put the entire future empire at risk of collapse without the support of the military arm. No- When he was slain, and another had taken his place, they would have the support of the Mandalorians so long as they both respected this deal.

  • Like 2

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Then the pact is struck. May neither of us break it, for the fate of both our peoples rely on our loyalty."

 

He let the reality of his new position set in for a moment. He hadn't always seen eye to eye with Dark Lords in the past, from his disagreement with Nyrys's plan to open defiance against Exodus after Kuat, but he had never proclaimed himself one. At best, he was stepping up to lead a Sith Order that was rapidly spiraling into nothing. At worst, he was declaring open rebellion against the reigning Dark Lord. But it couldn't be helped- The Sith needed strong leadership, and they needed it now. If Calypso had gone missing as her compatriots before her, then he would take up the mantle, and he wouldn't relinquish it until he was dead, either at the hands of a Sith looking to take it for themselves, or the Sovereignty and the Jedi looking to quash the head of the Sith.

 

"If we are to do this, we need a plan. You said the Sith are scattered- I may still have allies among them. I fell in defense of Darth Akheron's world, he would be a good starting point. Are there any of your people we should visit to solidify this alliance, and to solidify your hold on your people? I know the Mandalorians are no strangers to marching to war, but we may very well be asking them to march against former allies. Will that be problematic?"

  • Like 1

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Darth Mavanger nodded. Then all that was left was to put his forces to march once more, as he had above a dozen worlds since he joined the Sith. The only difference is that he would be facing down his former allies, the people that he had lost so much to serve. No more would he be doing the bidding of a Dark Lord who's ambitions lay in the ephemeral eradication of the Jedi and the Sovereign Alliance. No, he would put the galaxy to the torch with his own actions, and inspire his people to do the same, as he had for years.

 

"Then we set off to find Darth Akheron. I'll ready the remainder of my forces- Nar Shaddaa likely took a toll on them, and it will do them good to hear from me once more. My next stop will be Ziost- If he is not still present there, there will hopefully be people hwo know of his location. He isn't the most subtle of our allies, after all. I suggest you do the same with your troops- ready them for what is to come, then meet us on Ziost. Once we have solidified my position, we can discuss the plans for our empires."

  • Like 1

 

 

mavms.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

×
×
  • Create New...