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Commander Valinor

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  1. Black armoured soldiers stood in still rows that stretched the length of eyesight. Unmoving like ebony carved statues before the smoking ruins of Theed. Arrayed were the legions, the pride of and glory of the Armed Forces of the galactic rim, battalion after battalion arrayed below fluttering red and black banners. All eyes towards the pile of rubble that had once been the royal throne rooms. They were the Felix Legions. Once the knife that had severed the throat of Onderon, plunged into the forests of Kashyyyk, the fire itself that had ruined Carida. They had their duty to uphold in the coming battle, and their commander was confident that they would play their part well. For there was only one way to open a tear. To plant a seed of destruction that could carry its fruit through the peace and into the next great war. They needed no great speech, and they expected none from their shadowed commander. They knew their duty. They would plant the seed and water it deep with the blood of the Rebel Capital world. They would be the sower of the seed that would bring their destruction back to life in the next generation. For it would be massacre, it would be destruction, It would be Vengeance.
  2. So the Lady of Sorrows draws forth her council from the grave The Felix Legions dropped like Valkyries from the sky, following the streams of turbolasers into the burning ruins of Theed. Where once there were granite walkways, there was now only burning slag. The planet would burn, a vengeance for the death of a Dark Lord. A vengeance for a kingdom denied. For even in their defeat the Sith would bring a ruin that generations would dare not speak of. And the Sith were still in the noontide of their power.
  3. “Give us a full name check Talia. I’ll take it from here. We’ll see if the bastard knows anything.” The overconfident officer of the Sith Security Bureau clicked off her ear mic before she walked through the doors to where the wounded unknown lay. She would trust the two behind the reflective screen to feed her data should she need it. But she was just as good at extracting information as a computer. She grabbed a cup of water from the cistern beside the wall and strode confidently towards the subject. Sure the water actually contained some Quinuclidinyl benzilate and some sweetener. But it was always a gesture that Jedi or Rebels found disarming. __________________________ Inside, the datapad buzzed under fingers as Talia selected the large repository file from the old archival database and dragged it onto the main screen. It was a large file and one marked as encrypted. The Interrogator entered her password and held the scanner up to a grey irised eye. There was an accompanying buzz in her hand which marked the file as able to be opened. Old files began to populate, marked by the old Imperial and old Sith Empire symbol, the last of the files entered more than a decade before by the now defunct Galactic Alliance Security Bureau. She frowned and looked at the other officer in the room who was in turn looking at the junior officer who stood beside the subject. “Are you sure the DNA we scanned was the subjects?” The Arkanian turned a very tired eye towards her and simply nodded. “Can’t fake cerebral spinal fluid Talia. You know that.” She nodded, cowed for a moment, before she looked back to her screen. “Spast.” She flipped the red switch on the wall and the arkanian jumped up from his seat. “Force user?” She nodded and set the datapad down. “Get the on duty officer here now. We have a class three force user in containment.” The Arkanian nodded and slapped another button on his own datapad as she gulped down her fear looked through the one way glass at the curled up homeless looking individual. A ghost of the old galaxy. A member of the old ruling order. And someone that could crush the two of them without a thought. It was time to summon those specialized in containing force users. Even if this one turned out to be friendly. But the interrogators would do what they could to contain the threat as they waited. For now, the officer inside, was utterly alone. So she straightened her uniform and set the glass of water beside the subject before sitting down on the stool beside the operating table. “So tell us what happened.” _____________ A kilometer away Delta’s Comm flashed a bright red, and a soft siren again flared over the barracks.
  4. Dark eyes under a darker cowl watched the young acolyte. There was such confidence there, such a delight for violence, an untempered rage that shone through every pore. It was nauseating, And so the Sith Master reached out a hand and slapped the boy across the left cheek. Not hard, not enough to spin him around or snap his neck, but enough to rattle his jaw and emphasise the point. “Violence does not beget power.” The hand stayed raised, then settled back into the darkness of the cloak. "The Emperor does not need another untempered blade to be used and thrown away. I will not waste my time on such a thing. Power is the threat of violence. And the knowledge of when to apply it. That is your first lesson.” “Now tell me, boy. What you will do with your power.” ((try to draw this post out longer. Give description, and decrease your font size)) The eyes looked up to Fynn and the hand came out again, beckoning him forward. “And you, you are not young, and a dormant power lies within you. What is your story?”
  5. Hands and arms drummed in slowing agony against the dark earth as the sands of Korriban accepted yet another sacrifice to the glory of the Sith. Dark blood bubbled and frothed as it was absorbed into the greedy sand, and when the body was still, Valinor’s eyes turned yet again to the young living acolyte. Showing within them a tinge of an ancient regret. “Is that what you think power is?” The ghostly form of Valinor reached forward a hand and the knife that had been gifted flew to it. Disappearing into the dark fog that surrounded the Sith Master. The gift had been freely given, but being disused, the gift was taken back. The voice carried with it disappointment. “Then you have much to learn. Follow if you wish to learn the lesson that was put before you.” And with that, the Sith Master strode into the open gates, leaving them open should Mike and the remaining three young acolytes wish to follow.
  6. The Sith master’s eyes opened in mock terror, and their voice came in a pitiful moan of mocking dismay. “Oh woe to thee that you were so pitilessly hounded!” The dark eyes narrowed to slits of dark magenta that glimmered in the rising sun of the midmorning. And with the speed of a striking cat the Sith master strode forward and struck the boy across the face with the back of their hand. And when the master spoke, the voice was devoid of emotion. “Were you not strong enough to stand for yourself?” The hand raised as if to strike again then pointed to one of the acolytes, a girl of the same age as Mike who stared up with abject horror towards the Sith Master. “So show us how you will rule. Show us how you would make the galaxy quake in fear.” With a flick of the dark wrist a small knife flipped into Mike’s palm. Its obsidian blade a horrible black and its edges razor sharp. The voice was cruel when it came. “The girl is useless to us, and cannot even touch the force.” The girl shouted in alarm and tried to back away but was trapped by the stone walls of the entrance. “Now show her the mercy you would show as a Sith Lord. Show us the man you would be. I put her fate in your hands.” It was a classic test of the Sith Lords, a judgement of power and a judgement of conscience. Was it true that he was being ordered to kill so quickly? Or was there some other purpose there among the shadows... And Valinor smelled the scent of another, a darker presence from beyond the grave. Their face turned to the distant rocks before flicking back to the young boy. Come forth you who lurk Echoed in Fynns mind. @Fynn Relmis
  7. Within the Bastion the forces of the Sith Training Academy stirred to their morning routines. Acolytes began their morning jogs, while masters met and meditated before they turned to their morning meals. Within the training academy, Lord Valinor the commander of the Felix Legions who ritually guarded the valley of the Dark Lords, strode down the halls towards the vague glimmer of the new arrivals. Valinor carried a darkness with them, as if they were a ghost within a thick fog, so that everywhere they went, a darkness fell upon the room as if the lights had begun to dim. It was in this ghastly form that Valinor came to the entrances of the Bastion of Pelko, the dark eyes within the darkness greeting those few acolytes that had not been admitted the night before. Though there were only four left from last night, a new presence of a young man showed himself. Five then Valinor looked at Mike with little interest before gesturing him to the entrance where the other four sat waiting. “So you seek entrance to our holy academy? What brings you here?” The voice was low and rough as if it was echoing through gravel and carried a dread with it.
  8. Valinor watched as the old apprentice approached. He had very obviously grown in stature and in power, her nose could tell her that. His aura was enticing, powerful, and had grown to the noontide of its power. She watched him as he approached and listened as he talked of his deeds. And she could feel the pride burning like a fever on his forehead. She lifted her hand as he finished and the area fell quiet. “Your power is strong but swift. You burn with power, but it will consume you. You will not see grey upon your head. At least....” Her voice turned soft, kind, and distant. “...You will die beautiful.” She let her hand drop. “But you have made me proud, and you will become a great lord before you stumble. I name thee Darth Mavanger, take these deserters and mould them to your will.” She turned, and with nothing further, walked into the lonely halls of Korriban.
  9. A shuddering breath brought the scent of someone long unlooked for and it brought a dark smile to the hidden lips of Valinor. But when the hidden masquerade looked back upon the small Imperial crew, the smile turned quickly to a frown of disgust. Valinor took a step back and surveyed them. Some stood with fear, others with pride, but in what Valinor could not tell. For how could deserters have pride? Cowardice begot desertion, and if they believed that they would have fan fare for their ‘valiant return to the empire’ they could not have been more wrong. She looked down the long line then raised her hand, stopping all of the idle chatter from troops and deserters alike. She held the hand open, a lightsabre pommel laying unlit across the outstretched palm. The darkness that surrounded the Sith Lord began to grow, like a web shaped by a spider. Sliding across the ground and through the air. And when the voice came it was terrible. Deserters deserve nothing less than death. And those that do not follow my instructions deserve a worse fate. You see the Sith are not a welcoming order. We accept only the Strongest The lightsabre came on, a pale orange blade fighting and sputtering against the darkness. Valinor tossed it up into the air, where it would land at the feet of the crew. The one who survives may join our order Laughter bellowed from the troops surrounding the Unwavering Pursuit, and like a lightswitch being flipped, darkness surrounded the deserters. Leaving them to slaughter each other like gladiators in some ancient arena.
  10. The forces of the Felix legions watched eagerly for any signs of potential resistance from the defecting craft and when none came, most of the soldiers let their disappointment show visibly on their faces. But they kept their weapons ready in case a fight should break out. Valinor strode forward, trailing a darkness that cut through the bright summer day like spilled ink. Boots paused ominously at the edge of the boarding ramp and the voice that echoed from within the darkness boomed through the minds of all. Those that believe themselves competent in the force please line up on the left, those who are not force sensitive please array yourselves before me.
  11. The warships of the Korribani Defense grid were always kept in shape enough to fight, even if their crews took rotational breaks in the relative freedom of Dreshdae’s cold winter nights. However, for the crew of the Unwavering Pursuit, they werelucky enough for the command team to all be on ground. The Admiral, sitting in the chambers of state in Dreshdae, gave a growl of appreciation to the subordinate that brought her the news. “Another defection, another day the rebel alliance falls further apart.” A normal and expected response to the report of a defector, but Lord Valinor had other thoughts. Within a few minutes, a company of the Felix Legion was despised along the docking bay and Valinor herself stood await the crew to disembark.
  12. The Man, purple faced and well tattooed, held the vial up like a talisman. It appeared to be dried blood in a canister of preservative, a crude way of preserving a specimen but not unheard of. Lord Valinor, The leader of the Felix legions, terror embodied, took the vial with a bow of respect. It was not often that the warriors of Kesh brought forth an envoy to the halls of Korriban. And as such, the Sith would treat any requests of theirs in the spirit of ecumenicalism. Even if it was just the request to clone a mighty Lord. _______ Weeks later, in the depths of the medical frigate Xerxes, in orbit around the sand planet, a cloning tube beeped away in a drum beat of noise. Orderlies responded, left their preparations, popped the seal of the tank and slunk off into the darkness. When the great Baron of Kesh would awake, he would find a black tunic, made of expensive silken thread, boots of equally fine leather, and at last a single parang.
  13. The grey black mist of the presence of Lord Valinor seeped into the edges of the arena ring, the tendrils of aether consolidating into they formed into the form of the Sith Lord. The mouth beneath the mask smiled, its voice harsh and full of glee, the orange eyes fixed upon Mordecai. “So you come back to me with the smell of victory.” She strode towards her apprentice and placed her hand upon his shoulder. “You have but few tasks left. Find the Dathomiri Qaela Darksong and offer your services in my name. She will find you a task worthy of the dominion of the Sith. Obey her and demonstrate your worth for the time is fast approaching that you will no longer need me.” The Sith Lord turned and strode silently from the ring.
  14. Orders The Admiral and grand general of the Felix Legions considered her padawan’s request with something akin to a mix of eagerness and bloodlust. Death was all around them now, every millisecond she could feel a life snuffed out in its prime. The Hunger was all consuming. It made her mouth water with every death. “There are Jedi trying to rescue their toy empress on board the glorified bank called Dark Sun. We will make a channel for you and yours. Follow the bloodlust and take some troops with you. Find a Jedi and kill him or her for me. Bring the head and you will find reward.” She put a hand gingerly on his shoulder. Do the Dark Lord proud and he will not forget you. And nor will I.” What next she said was only to him. Take what provisions you need and leave with the troops, some five thousand will be leaving from the hanger in a few minutes. You have my trust. May the force be with you.
  15. A wry smile snaked across sallow cheeks covered in shadows. “The Dark Lord of course. Can you not feel his eminence? His shadow permeates even this far from the bridge.” Valinor laughed. And placed her hand on the shoulders of her apprentice. “I would expect the Jedi to come at us very soon, so I would be wary, follow the lead of those around you. Feel their anticipation. Their anger, their worry.” The hand tightened its grip, as the other swept wide, encompassing all the troopers and pilots who sat or stood in the hanger. “Consume it like a meal. Let their emotions fuel you.” The decking beneath their feet shuddered as the turbolasers began their steady churn.
  16. The Sith combined force from Korriban joined the black Scarab at the described location. The massive troop ships falling in beside the frigates and cruisers, before one by one docking at the Scarab. Valinor motioned her apprentice to follow her before she began the hike to the bride of the SSD ((Describe how you feel seeing a super star destroyer, then us arriving at the bridge))
  17. The Sith combined force of troops and special forces departed Korriban to their rendezvous with their Dark Lord. ((To Space!))
  18. The subaltern had tried to be quiet in his approach to where the high ranking Sith Lord was teaching her apprentice, an effort to not disturb the mighty lord perhaps. But it was ineffective and the twinkle of laughter left Valinor’s eyes in a second as she felt the nervous man’s approach. Her voice was soft as she whispered to the apprentice as she stood up and placed a small hand over her beautiful face. “We are disturbed. Can you not sense his apprehension? It is...delicious.” The hand covering her face went dark and in an instant the smiling face of Katarra Corun now deemed Lord Valinor was gone. Swallowed in shadows. “There must be something of great calamity to disturb me as such.” Two sharp knocks echoed in the room from the subaltern, who swiftly opened the door and stepped inside. His face downcast. But his apprehension had piqued to a ferocious anticipation. And he announced himself, the eagerness dripping off his voice like a thick film. “The Dark Lord has called all forces to action My Lord.” He saluted and held out a slip of parchment like flimsiplast. “We are called to war lord.” Beneath the masquerade of shadows a smile crept from ear to ear. Her voice was harsh and victorious. “Assemble the armies.” Korriban had been called. And the old Ark of the Sith would answer. “Stay in my shadow little one. By weeks end you and I may dine on the flesh of mighty warriors.” ________________________ Great shuttles descended from the grey cloudless sky to land among the old statues. They would be loaded with Lords and Ladies of the sith and their retinue before departing for space and the summons of their liege lord. Some many thousands of force users left the Temple of Unholy Dormition in this matter. ________________________ |The Felix legions| marcet sine adversario virtus One by one they appeared, black helmets dull in the Korribani sun, eyes dark behind the veil of the force. Blasters they carried, cradled in brutish arms, with sabres of darksteel slung on dark leather belts. Creatures of the darkside, unholy in intention and spirit, prepared to fight the enemies of their Lord commander. The dark four thousand and one. ((You may post us leaving to space. Have fun with it.))
  19. “Well naturally we make you a Sith Assassin, like the Spider.” A bright blue eye winked. “But really we teach you how to become invisible and strike where it hurts most.” She let go of his hand and pointed to a large expanse of shifting sand that was gathered at the feet of several statues. “Go sit, meditate, and figure out how to disguise yourself in the sands.”
  20. Ahh so you have made the choice to follow us despite the warnings of every one before you The voice was now strangely soft and its pitched changed to a tired tone, as a black hand reached up to tug the mask from Valinor’s face. Bright blue eyes stared back at Mordecai, as the black mist surrounding the commander of the Felix legions disintegrated into the air. The eyes were the striking feature of the commander’s face, and when the darkness surrounding had disappeared, the commander was revealed to be a woman. Mid twenties, face covered by red tattoos. She extended a black gloved hand to the young man. “Then join me, and tell me of what you wish to be within the Sith.” Her hand swept wide. “What draws you, a warriors spirit? A tricksters?”
  21. Aye. Well said young one, merely seeking death and destruction is not a legacy that lasts. If you wish to be hated by millions of mothers and children and believe that is some kind of legacy that will last beyond a single generation it is foolishness. For who even remembers Ar-Pharazon the Golden? Terrian the cruel? Lord Achzet? His sweeping hand took in the statues dismissively. They are nothing, because they built nothing. That is our crucial flaw Mordecai. We do not look to the generations in front of us to leave a legacy to. His hand became an fist. We consolidate power out of greed and that power dies with us. We have built nothing but crypts and tombs, halls to our eternal power that show little but decay. The mask's eyes flared red gold. Do what I do little one. Build order, build stability, build the next generation. And do not fall to the trap that is power for powers self. The eyes turned to the apprentice. Do you understand?
  22. Ahhh well done then boy Came the voice that thundered throughout the training area. The figure clapped his hands slowly and gestured for the apprentice to follow him. He turned and strode through the tunnels of the dark lords. Their statues looming overhead, staring with stone eyes. The only memory the galaxy had of them. He gestured to a towering stone figure. What lesson is taught to us from these statues of sith lords young Mordecai?
  23. Valinor, the admiral and commander of the Felix Legions let his silence hang over the room like a black acrid cloud. There was no disappointment in the silence, just calm judgement, studying the young man in silence as he gripped his crystal like a trophy won at an awards gala. His voice finally echoed in the silence, breaking it like a fragile plate. “It was indeed easy. Now replace the crystal in your lightsabre with the one you hold, let it bind to the darkness in your spirit. Meditate on it. And when you are done…” The Turrets that had before been part of the challenge loomed overhead. But where the crystal had been, now lay tied up the thrall that he had spared from death. Her pain and fear radiating in the force like a storm. Her voice muffled in its tears as she strained against her bonds and tried to spit the gag out. “Rescue her. But for now feed upon her despair while you meditate.” ((Meditate, then try to actually physically get up there while under fire. You thrall wont die. Fail as well, so that your character can learn from that))
  24. ((You have gained an NPC thrall/retinue which in a few posts we will decide what to do with)) Will is only a temporary thing young one. The voice of the commander of the Felix Legions emanated from behind his mask as he evaluated the young apprentice’s deeds. He was strong, and learning, learning the desires that made a man great. He strode forward and placed his hand upon the young woman’s head, his fingers clawlike and where the armour touched, blood seeped from the pores until her face was matted with bright blood. She tried to scream but it came out a gurgle of pain as her bright eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed. She has the force and it is strong. In time you may mould her to your will, and I will send her to your chambers. Keep her as a thrall, but do not fall to the weakness of lust with this thing. A Sith deserves better. Now follow me. Valinor strode from the room until they arrived at a large room, its floors covered by a few short walls and ramps. In its center, some ten meters high suspended in the air there was a crystal, blue in colour and radiating energy in the force. Bring me that, and then we may continue one. You have ten seconds. Turrets, three of them, descended from the ceiling, their low powered blasters scanning for a target, and when those seconds were up, they would knock the apprentice back down to size. ((Try and fail, learn how to overcome these obstacles, Distance, blaster bolts, and frustration))
  25. Eyes glowed crimson under a helm of charcoal black. The eyes observed silently, judging the abilities of the acolyte and were only obscured by the vaporous darkness that every so often crested over the crimson. It was that darkness which Valinor scattered about himself which hindered the eyes of foes and allies alike. But for now the eyes watched the young man work on his sabre. When the acolyte looked up he was now deemed an apprentice, he had passed the first test. The building of a weapon of war. Valinor pushed against the wall at his side and the wall slid open to show three individuals, beaten and bloody. All three were in their teens, both males in their late teens and the girl, whose cheeks reflected the red blade from the tears that traced down to her chin was in her early teens. Imperials all, and taken from Kuat during its fall. All of them had been in the junior flight academy there and the tattered remains of their uniforms still still showed the white imperial crest against the crimson fabric. You have built a sabre and with that comes the power of apprinticeship. Now you decide their fate. ((You don’t have to be graphic, but this would be a good time to reflect on any old friends from childhood or sisters/brothers your character might have. Then kill or free these ‘innocents’ ))
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