Corellia

[Mavanger]

Mordecai stood upon the bridge of the Wyvern, his Victory II command ship, watching the Imperial defenders scramble, like they were an anthill that the boot of the Sith had kicked. The ships under his command were battle-ready, of course. His inexperience would not bring them defeat. The officer at his side, a Captain Maran Jarvus, gave him pointers. After his battle with the Imperial Knights at Borleais, of which the fresh pink scars and slowly regrowing hair here a reminder of, he had swallowed his pride. The man knew his place, but had received Mordecai's express permission to teach him as he saw fit, although he was not to give commands himself unless the Sith was incapacitated.

 

"They're positioning their corvettes to screen for fighters. Doing the same will protect the Wyvern and the Herløv, and I would recommend doing to until we see what their fleets are capable of."

Mordecai nodded, giving the command with a wave of his hand. There were whispers in the Force here. Curious; Perhaps the Jedi were present, though he doubted he would sense them from this far away with his training. Something else, perhaps? He would ask Quela of it after the battle, but for now he would focus.

 

They soon received a communique, a warning. He chuckled softly. He maintained radio silence. If Quela would like to start the battle here and now, he would let her. He, instead, waited, as he'd done before, over Coruscant and over Borleais. He was not passive, though he didn't mind being perceived as much. They would hold formation and match the Herløv's speed, awaiting for the opportune moment.

 

He sent a simple message to his master.

 

"I am ready. Shall we begin?"

 

Edited April 3, 2020 by Mavanger

[Mavanger]

Mordecai could respect that course of action. An invasion wouldn't end in a day, why use all your resources like it would? The frigate Fury took the lead on his task force's advance, being careful not to be separated from the Herløv. There was a pitched anticipation deep in his gut- A lesser man would succumb to the fear that gnawed with the whispers at the edge of his psyche. Instead, he embraced it. Used it to sharpen his perception, his body's primal reactions to danger serving him, rather than the other way around. He noticed things he'd usually miss. Smells, colors, sounds. The calm breathing of the experienced Captain, the faster breathing of an ensign trying to hide his fear. Mordecai strode forward, placing his hand on the young man's shoulder.

 

"Embrace your fear. Control it, do not be the one controlled."

 

He glanced out the observation glass.

 

"Open fire on Lady Darksong's command."

 

[Mavanger]

Mordecai wasn't one to count his victories before they were earned, but he couldn't help but smile. The battle had taken a poor start, but with one of the cruiser's shields down, the Wyvern could disable it with ease unless they tried to make an escape. He didn't even need the good captain to make the suggestion. He was concerned about the Herløv though- without the flagship of their fleet. He relayed Lady Darksong's orders, commanding his own fighters to assist. Throw in his corvettes and there was very little the enemy carriers could hope to accomplish.

 

The whispers still gnawed at his mind, though he continued to ignore them. At least for now. A fleet battle was no place to be distracted by such things. The same went for any fears or anxieties he or his crew felt. Victory was withing their grasp- after this battle, Centerpoint would be theirs. He opened a channel to the Herløv.

 

"Lady Darksong, I await your command. We will continue to fire on your target."

 

((2))

Edited April 13, 2020 by Mavanger
((2))

[Mavanger]

War. The panorama of carnage that greeted the newly Lorded Mordecai was eerily pleasing to his eyes. The carnage, the pain, the death. He could feel the bloodlust coming on even now. And behind it, faint, but he could feel it even from here. A darkness, in orbit upon the planet's surface, smothering all who felt it. The Dark Lord was here. Mordecai could feel himself drawn towards the powerful Sith. He turned to his apprentice, fresh from her time in the bacta tanks.

 

"Witness. War shall consume the galaxy, and in its glory the Jedi and the Imperial Pretenders will be burned away, like a sickness burned away by a torch. That day shall be glorious. But until it comes, we will make do with the morsels that invasions such as this bring us. Prepare yourself, retrieve anything you need from the ship, and meet me in the hangar. Your first battle lies not in the skies, but on the ground."

 

He turned from the observation glass, stalking towards the bridge's exit. The Dark Lord would show the way. He expected nothing less than for the Spider to be in the midst of the carnage, shedding blood and crushing his opponents who dare doubt the might of the Sith Empire.

Edited August 24, 2020 by Mavanger

[Mavanger]

Mordecai wasted no time. He went straight to his transport, a dozen troopers meeting him there at his command. They filed in, Mordecai waiting at the ramp for his apprentice. When she arrived, he gave a curt nod, motioning he to board, and as she did, boarding behind her, the exit ramp sealing with a series of metallic clicks. With a shudder and the wail of engines, their transport lifted, launching from the shuttle bay with no small amount of turbulence. The dropship was silent. For the soldiers, it was time to make peace. Most, if not all of them, may not make it back. For Mordecai, it was a time for meditation. To give himself to his emotions.

 

Anxiety at the coming battles. Despite his new title and his proven worth, he knew that any battle could be his last. Even this one. Anger, that he was forced from this conflict before it even began due to the rebel strike at Kuat. Pride at his accomplishments thus far. Contempt, for the apprentice he was saddled with. Despite her promise, she was stubbornly prideful of a false sense of belonging. She would earn that pride here, or she would die. That was the way of the Sith.

 

As the craft drew closer to the Sith flagship, the turbulence began again as fighters and interceptors flew by. They seemed too preoccupied, thankfully, to divert attention to a lone transport and its escort. Good.

 

Upon landing, he was quick to assess the situation. It was dark. The lights were out. Klaxons blared and troops scrambled along the decks, but his own objective was clear. He had felt them. Motes of light floating through the pervasive sea of utter blackness. Rocks made of alabaster and crystal that valiantly broke the tide of seething anger and hatred, chipped away with every breath, every thought, every sense. The Jedi were here. How they had managed to board the Dark King's ship was a mystery him, but ultimately it mattered not. They were here, and he would prove himself worthy of his newest title.

[Mavanger]

Mordecai stepped off of the transport, taking his time to observe the surroundings as an avalanche of footsteps echoed around his, the team of troopers he had brought along filing out and awaiting his orders. His apprentice waited behind him as well. She could feel it too- good. She knew of the blight upon this ship. He closed his eyes, getting a sense for their direction. It wasn't hard, though even as he felt for them he could sense the waves tearing at their psyche. One was close already. Madness whispered through the ship, with the tint of something more sinister. Interesting.

 

Another, the brightest, was tainted with death. They had killed before. An Imperial Knight, perhaps? The thought lapped at his mind, digging deep at his own emotions. False Jedi, not brave enough to stand on their own, and foolishly serving a false Empress. Raven. A weak child. He had witnessed her defeat himself, in the ashes of his shame. Those who had bested him had been strong- he respected them for that, at least. And yet, they served one who could barely stand her own against a creature that was not even true Sith, as he had later learned. A nightsister. A perplexing enigma, though not one he was likely to solve soon.

 

The third was dimmer, relatively untainted by death and suffering. They were either young, sheltered, or both. A padawan, perhaps? A smile crept upon his face, sick fascination made manifest. An interesting group, indeed. Perhaps... Perhaps he should sate his curiosity. He turned to his apprentice.

 

"Feel their fear. Their loss. Relish in it. Meditate on it. Stay here, and secure this hangar. These troops are now under your command- I'd prefer if you did not waste their lives on trivial displays of power, however. I will return in time. I have a light to snuff out."

[Mavanger]

Mordecai stalked through the darkened ship with ease. Where the Jedi had found themselves swallowed by it, he had leaned to embrace it. To flow through it, a divergent stream moving towards its ultimate destination. He was nearing not only the lonely motes of light, but a spewing geyser of hatred and contempt, smothering all hope and direction with ease. The Dark Lord. It must have been- he knew none other who could perform such a feat. He recognized the presence from his time over Dark Sun, aboard the Scarab. He had been distant then. Now he was close. So tantalizingly close. He rounded the corner to a large room, clear of all debris and all markings, finding inside...

 

Nothing.

 

He growled, letting out a frustrated shout full of anger and anticipation. Where were they? They should have been here. They were oh so close, and yet... Ah. He was underneath them. They were just on the floor above. He could feel the beginnings of their clash, Light fighting valiantly, if uselessly, against the Dark. He sneered. Then they were out of reach. He would need to find a way up; Or so he thought.

 

Just as he began to turn, he heard a hiss above. A single form fell, and through the opening... a glimpse. Mordecai could feel His power even from here, washing over him in a cacophonous wave of Dark Side energy. The Dark Lord. The feeling was short lived, however, as the opening sealed once more. The thud of a body caught his attention and he ignited his saber. A Jedi lay motionless, all but consumed by the irrefutable strength of the dark tide. he raised his saber, preparing to strike, but hesitated. Perhaps... perhaps he could aid the darkness.

 

-----------

 

Mordecai meditated, alone in the chamber aside from the unconscious Jedi. He drew on his emotions, gorging on them like a glutton gorged on the desserts of a great feast. Anger, yes. But also... Pride. He had received word from his apprentice- she had fought off her own assailants. With any hope, he would be leaving this ship with two, and his power would grow. He had ordered her to come to him, to witness his victory, whether it be martial or philosophical. With hope, she would arrive in time to gaze upon what true victory looked like.

 

He was disturbed from his meditation, however, when the Jedi stirred. Standing, he rested his hands on his lightsabers.

 

"Welcome to the Goliath, Jedi. You've met our host. You've gazed upon His inevitability. Perhaps, unlike the two fools above, you would be willing to... negotiate. I could sense great fear in you. Your anxieties are known to me. Your grief... your terror."

 

He stepped forward, his stature towering over the mere boy before him.

 

"With my help, you can be free of it all. Instead of bending to the will of your fear and anger, you will control your emotions. I know of what the Jedi teach. They teach peace, they teach kindness. This is not the true way. Through the Sith, your burdens are lifted."

 

He offered a hand, though he was too far away for the Jedi to take it. If this boy proved to be a zealot, Mordecai wouldn't lose a hand for his efforts.

 

Edited August 31, 2020 by Mavanger

[Mavanger]

Mordecai let out a booming laugh. The boy was filled with hopes and naivety. It would be a shame to kill him. Still, he wasn't finished just yet. The child was lost. Misled about the nature of the Dark Side by his ignorant masters, people who had never known its' kiss of power, nor of the true freedom it offered. perhaps this was why the Jedi tended to fall so easily throughout history. How can you defeat something you don't understand? How can you resist the temptation of the dark when you've been lied to about its nature, unable to truly shield yourself from its reach?

 

"You've made a common mistake. One that I myself when I was but an apprentice amongst the Sith. You traded your shackles of the light for the shackles of your emotions. True freedom does not come through being consumed by your emotions. It comes from embracing them. Do not be bent to the wills of your emotions. Instead, you bend them to your will. Use them to grow more powerful. But if you fully surrender to them, then yes, I suppose you're not much more than a wild animal, lashing out in fear and hatred.

 

The true false freedom is the Jedi. They preach of free knowledge and a truly free galaxy. What they don't mention is that these are only true under their definition. Free knowledge, as long as you avoid what is forbidden. Freedom, but always under the Jedi Order's watchful eyes. Tell me, does that sound like freedom? Or are they a clever tyranny? In the Sith Empire, all that it takes to obtain knowledge and power is the will to do so."

 

The boy was cocky. That could be remedied. Perhaps even harnessed. His remark did little to faze Mordecai.

 

"Unfortunately I cannot accept. After all, leaving a party so soon would be dreadfully rude, would it not be? And what would you do if you did leave? Fight through an entire ship's worth of Sith and soldiers, including myself and my own apprentice, only to arrive late to the battle above and be slain by the Dark Lord? I offer salvation. Join me, and I will teach you how to truly handle your emotions in a way that benefits you, rather than neuters your ability to feel."

[Mavanger]

Mordecai waved dismissively. There were deep misunderstandings here. Many thought of the Sith as bloodthirsty warriors and cruel monsters, but there was a culture to it. A way of life that united even the most disparaging of authority. It was glorious, and not something that the apprentice would likely understand from mere talk. Still, Mordecai would do his best to convey these feeligns.

 

"Anger, pain, fear. It's true, yes, that we rely heavily on these in combat. The anger strengthens our blows against those who would withstand them. Embracing our pain allows us to keep fighting past what others would consider natural. Fear sharpens our perception, allowing us to watch for hidden threats even amidst a duel. But these are not all that a Sith feels. It's not a life of suffering and misery to be inflicted on ourselves and others as the Jedi would tote. We throw ourselves into joy and curiosity out of battle as we do anger and fear. Imagine what you could do, Jedi, with this power. The people you could save."

 

The hint of conflict that the boy suggested was enticing to be sure, but Mordecai stayed his hand... for now. He could feel his apprentice, and as she filed into the room with the troopers he had placed under her command, he could feel her pride again. Now, finally, earned.

 

"The apprentice returns. Watch, Kahla, and think on my words. Do not intervene yet."

 

He turned back to the Jedi.

 

"Do you understand your plight now, young Jedi? Even if you kill me, there are countless others who would drown you in their own seas of darkness. I am your best hope for salvation. For survival. You are too young to throw your life away for nothing. You think anyone will remember you in a year? You are an apprentice in an order that orders their members to martyr themselves for others, and yet your masters regularly avoid conflict or harm others where it's convenient for them. Tell me, do you know what happened at Dark Sun Station? Were you there, as I was? Did you witness the atrocities committed by one of your so called Jedi Masters? And even now, our Dark Lord engages your master, where your Grandmaster has not been seen on the battlefield in my memory since before I became Sith."

[Mavanger]

It as unfortunate he could not turn the Jedi. Despite the waves that crashed upon the apprentice's mind, he withstood. For now. Given time, he would bend, then break. There were no more words. It was clear that for now, the time for talking with over. He let out a heavy sigh. He'd hoped it wouldn't come to blows- to turn a Jedi was a precious moment, from what he was told. Still, it was a time to display to his apprentice what it meant to be a true Sith. He un-clipped his lightsabers, their weight comforting to his hand. With a press of a button they hissed to life, casting a blue hue across the room. He dipped into the well of rage that he held deep within him- rage at the jedi, at the Imperial Knights, fury at his own failures on his journey and his anger at his opponent's dismissal.

 

"If you cannot accept what I teach through words, then I shall teach it to you by the blade."

 

Mordecai charged the Jedi, waiting only long enough for his enemy to draw his weapon. With a savage battle cry he let the waves of darkness lap at his mind, drawing on it to drive his practiced blows. Some Sith honed their sorcery. Others honed their minds. His weapons were his lightsabers. He practiced dealing death with trained precision, and when there was no time to practice, he would sate his bloodlust on his foes.

 

The first blow of many was an overhead slash to his opponent's left shoulder. His second was a follow up with with his second saber, a quick cut towards the boy's abdomen. The third, and final for now, was a force pull on the Jedi's ankles intending to knock him down, a trick he'd learned courtesy of the Imperial Knight he'd fought over Kuat.

 

((Post 1a, Mordecai vs Genesis))

[Mavanger]

As Mordecai's first two blows landed, he grew overconfident quite quickly. He didn't expect the padawan Jedi to muster a counter attack, and he paid a small price for it. He'd over extended in his glee to inflict pain on his now enemy. The trip had been successful, but fortunately the Jedi was reeling too hard to follow up. He rolled to his feet, taking up his own stance, a momentary reprieve after their first clash.

 

He took this moment to address himself and his successes. He'd landed multiple blows on his opponent. Good. Unfortunately he'd done so before the Jedi could draw his own blade. Mordecai has underestimated himself, and while the speed he could now muster was surely a welcome discovery, there was no enjoyment to be had in killing an opponent who's back was turned. Luckily, the Jedi had survived, and had readied himself for the next series of attacks.

 

"I'm impressed that you still stand. We'll see if that lasts."

 

He glanced at his apprentice. Good. She was following his orders. He had taught her how to fight with a lightsaber. Now she would witness what it meant to fight with the Force. He circled his opponent, seething at the opportunity to strike. He charged once more, sinking deeper into the despair, fear, and anxiety that permeated the air around him. His apprentice's pride, which had finally been earned. The Jedi's fear, drawn out by Mordecai's own prowess on the battlefield. His own glee at inflicting pain on the boy.

 

He rushed forwards once more, drawing on the force. Where Genesis allowed for it to flow through himself, Mordecai bent it to his will, curbed into submission by his own emotions, as well as those around him. He unleashed another flurry of blows. His first was a wide cut from his left to his right with his dominant hand, crouching low and aimed for the legs. He spun with the blade, using his momentum to drive both sabers towards his opponent's right shoulder, and then swung the opposite direction towards his right shoulder with savage abandon, his movements demonstrating a savage regime of practice, both in his private time and under more practical use.

 

((2))

Edited September 7, 2020 by Mavanger

[Mavanger]

Mordecai's assault was relentless. The boy had made a mistake. His force push had unbalanced Mordecai for a moment, knocking him away for a moment, but the Jedi was unbalanced now. Mordecai's furious assault had battered and beaten him, and the Sith could feel his opponent's anger. Good. Let it unbalance him. If he would reject his own emotions, then they would work against him. When Genesis deactivated his lightsaber, Mordecai didn't even hesitate to continue his vicious assault, letting his anger and bloodlust swell. He remained in control, though it was a tenuous control. The force flowed through him, bent to his will by his emotions, strengthening every blow in a never ending flurry of attacks. Not one serious attack had been made against the Darth, and now came the culmination of his attacks.

 

Blow after blow, with which he allowed the darkness that drove at his mind to fully envelope him. The anger. The fear. The pain. It fueled him. It fed him strength, and ultimately, it would lead him to his utter victory. One more across the Jedi's chest. Another seeking to gut the Jedi's abdomen. Another towards the Jedi's thigh, a growing crescendo of whirs, hums, and screeches as his wide swings danced along the durasteel floor, his attack an athletic push of body, steel, an plasma. How could one hope to stand against him? One final swing. The ideal killing blow. A single, powerful swing, seeking to behead the Jedi if he didn't react.

 

This was the culmination of his prowess. Nearly three years of being Sith, and a lifetime of training with a blade. Every battle fed him. With every victory, his prowess grew, a shining beacon of darkness for other Sith to aspire to. With every defeat, his resolve grew. He'd use the anger, the shame, the wounded pride to propel him even further. This is what it meant to be Sith. He understood now, in this frenzy of blows, this artful display of power and rage. There was a serenity to it. Where before he's been a slave to his emotions, wildly striking without strategy or regard against foes more powerful than he, now his emotions served him. The enveloped him, guiding his hand and his lightsabers, but not controlling them.

 

((3))

Edited September 9, 2020 by Mavanger

[Mavanger]

The Jedi finally struck out. He'd found his inner peace, but it had taken too long. Mordecai's fervent onslaught had reached its peak. His blow was never destined to connect. Mordecai parried the Jedi's blow, taking a glancing blow along his side. The Jedi's momentum carried him forward into Mordecai, who used it to trip him, knocking the padawan to the ground, sprawling across the cold durasteel. With a pair of hisses, his lightsabers were sheathed as he hooked them to his belt. He stepped over the limp body of the Jedi, still no doubt struggling to fight, scooping up his weapon as he allowed his emotions to simmer, for now, instead relishing in the pain of his new injury.

 

"A shame. I had hoped you would join me of your own free will. Instead, I will have to break you for you to truly be free."

 

He glanced at his apprentice, letting her take in the scene before speaking. It would do her good, both to see what she's aspiring to be, and to understand the cost of failure or betrayal. He closed his eyes, centering himself. The fight was over, he reminded himself. There was nobody left in the room save his allies. The war wasn't over yet, but his own fight was. Taking a deep breath, he motioned to his troopers. "Take him into custody. Kahla, watch him until we return to the ship. I want him alive.

 

Above, he could sense the battle taking place between the remaining Jedi and the Dark Lord of the Sith. The room shook as two explosions rattled the deck above. He could only speculate as to their origin.

 

"We return to the transport. From there, I have great plans for our ascent, Kahla."

[Mavanger]

As they walked through the corridors, Mordecai made sure to take the most populous ones he could. In part, this was for his own pride. Show off his success, his captive prize. More so, however, it was to sow the seeds of doubt in the apprentice's mind. All would witness his most basic failure. And as they walked, Mordecai mused. First to himself, pride and victorious revelry painting everything in a haze. Here he had defeated another Jedi. Another lightsaber, and another snuffed light. What drove them against his blade. so sure to meet their demise? Then, he mused aloud, speaking to his captive.

 

"Tell me, Jedi. You only stuck me once. I've fought a Jedi before, and she but up a much better fight, though her fate was eventually the same as yours. I've fought Imperial Knights, some of their best warriors. Masters of their fouled craft and excellent swordsmen. I've only suffered the indignity of defeat once, and my opponent refused to kill me. Tell me, what are your haughty ideals worth if I, and Sith like me, can slaughter your people in droves?"

 

He continued, looking at Kahla.

 

"Understand, apprentice. The Jedi claim that theirs is the only true way to serve the Force. Any others are twisted abominations. And yet, our beliefs lead us to victory after victory. Your anger, your pain. All of your emotions will fuel you in different ways. Take care not to lose yourself to them entirely, however, lest you suffer defeat as I did. But do not let the Jedi tell you that the opposite will not also lead you to defeat. This Jedi was so sure that his emotions would lead him astray that he barely put up a fight. He's not only a disappointment to myself, but a disappointment to his master. Years of training likely went towards this boy, only to be wasted on insecurities and on unsurities."

[Mavanger]

Mordecai chuckled at the boy's words. Could he not see the flaw in them? That his beliefs would lead nowhere but his own destruction and the destruction of the order he so cherished?

 

"I do not mock your beliefs, boy, merely question them in a light your masters would never allow for. You claim you follow the will of the Force. You say that your purpose is to return it to balance, but then you say that the Jedi way is never to attack. Are your beliefs not leading to the destruction of your order? Perhaps your perspective is flawed. Perhaps the force is unbalanced, yet, but in such a way that the Sith are favored. Would that not explain much? Our repeated victories? Our superior numbers? Your own order being nearly wiped from existence so often? Is it not your constant warring with the Sith that brings true chaos? But alas, you do not fight us yourselves. No. You haven't the gall. You hide behind lone planets and organizations, telling them that we are the ultimate evil, yet you refuse to raise your own hand in battle until your own life is threatened.  The Empire ruled in peace for decades until your rebel alliance rose up, led by a Jedi, leading to one of the longest periods of instability, chaos, and war that the galaxy has ever seen. So I ask you again, what good are your beliefs?"

 

He shook his head, his own sorrow reflected in the boy's eyes.

 

"There is so much I could teach you. I could show you the truth of the Sith. I spared your life, allowed you to stand against me of your own volition rather than strike you down while you were unconscious. And you mock me, first by implying I should let you leave, a hostile invader intent on killing my comrades, and then have the gall to claim you have moral superiority for not striking back. Tell me, which of us displayed more honor in this fight? I need not an answer. I have no wish for you to state what you believe. No wish to hear you grovel. I merely wish for you to contemplate the truth of what has occurred here today in the hopes that in the future, we may be allies, rather than enemies."

[Mavanger]

Mordecai barely reacted as the Jedi attempted his escape, keeping his stride. There was no rush. He had an entire star destroyer to fight through. It was the boy's own closemindedness that caused them to be enemies. Unfortunately, the jedi would rather kill his men and attempt escape than have a real debate. He nodded at Kahla, and she took off after him. As she did, he felt something change. A shift in the Force. His stride faltered, and he stopped for the moment. The waves were weaker now. Had the Dark Lord succumbed to defeat? How had two Jedi fought off the most powerful Sith in the galaxy? Perhaps there was more to them than he had originally allowed for. He glanced at the chase. He'd capture the boy, then intercept the others. Regardless of how they'd won, he would finish them off.

 

"Troopers, engage the Jedi. Kill him. He's used up our good will. Kahla will lead the chase- she is still your commander. Go."

 

He glanced down the darkened passage behind him, hesitating. His pride was on the line, of course, but if he defeated the dark Lord's opponent's, even just after their battle... The would be glory to be had. The halls seemed to tilt as he mused, the durasteel dancing as the shadows of the dreadnaught lapped at the walls' solidity. The darkness called to him. The vengeful victory that would vindicate his vile views. It played at his mind, and he took a step towards them. The whispers were maddening. Corellia was a cursed world, it had to be. Every time he visited, the whispers grew more urgent, more malignant. The battle was lost though, and for now, he would lose the chance to discover why.

[Mavanger]

Mordecai arrived at the hanger shortly after his apprentice. The Dark Lord's death had resonated with him. It was a sign. The Sith would not win the war like this, fighting for world after world that were worth little more than the trinkets one could loot them for. They needed to split the rebel forces. keep them guessing as to where the Sith would strike next. He gazed out at the ruins of the Sith fleet as the Goliath entered hyperspace. He would need new ships... And he knew just where to find them. His slave had been scouring the Sith archives for the location of a lost fleet on Raxus Prime, wreckage that had been lost for millennia. All that the ruined fleet waited for was to be found, crewed, and upgraded.

 

He glanced at Kahla, her failure weighing on himself. Her failure was his failure. She would be redeemed through blood, whether it be the Rebels' or her own.

 

"Come, apprentice. We have much work to do, and little time before the Rebels rally."