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Mavanger last won the day on May 22

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About Mavanger

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    Sith Lord
  • Birthday 12/30/1999

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  1. Mavanger


    Mordecai's shuttle tore through the atmosphere, his anger corrupting and warping the very world around him. It was cataclysmic- The Naboo were in cohorts with the rebel, as he had suspected. As such, they would be punished. His shuttle rocked as the palace's anti air landed a powerful hit to the wing, and he felt the ship groan and screech as the damaged wing tore away. The dropship lurched violently, going into a spin as he braced himself. It impacted outside of the main entrance, tearing up concrete and the earth below it as it skid to a halt. Inside, Mordecai climbed to his feet. His armor had absorbed the impact, but the pilot was dead. No matter. He stepped out of the transport to a city on fire- a few over-ambitious bombers had already begun to strafe the city. No matter. His presence was known. He climbed the steps to the entrance of the palace as guards raised their weapons to stop him. It was over quickly. Four guards had come to meet him. As he leapt forward, fed by the unending pool of rage and sorrow in his heart, he drove his sabers into the man's chest. The next in line was a young woman, who held her fire in fear of hitting her comrade. It was her death. He lunged for her, severing her head and letting his momentum carry him into the next. He drove his fist into the man's chest, the Force-enhanced blow shattering ribs as the man went down. The final guard tried to run, but it didn't save him. Mordecai pounced on him like a Nexu, leaving two scorched slashes in the coward's back as he, too, fell dead. Four laid dead around him, but it wasn't enough. His pain, and his grief, and his anger were still there. He had not yet acquired his vengeance. As he entered the palace, more guards tried to stop him, and more guards were cut down like the insignificant traitors they were, and he was drawn to a presence of light, one that he recognized. An Imperial Knight. She was waiting, intending to stop him, he was sure. A traitor like the rest, she would fall. He let out a furious cry as he cut down another guard, his rage apparent to all around him, his presence a roiling wound of Dark Side energy. Whatever shreds of good had been left in Mordecai were being burnt away in the fires of his rage. He had always held onto his notions of honor, even in his darkest moments... but now, he willfully gave it all for the chance to soothe the ache in his chest with the blood of his foes. Whether the guards surrendered, hid, ran or fought, they were cut down if they got in his path, without a doubt relaying to those in command of his destruction.
  2. Mavanger


    First it was only one ship- A lone capital, a new presence on the battlefield, the first Abaddon-class Star Destroyer to roll off of Geonosis's shipyard. Its lone silhouette hung menacingly above the atmosphere of Naboo, a quiet harbinger of the battle to come. Over the next few minutes, it was joined by an array of other ships. The Sith Fleet hung overhead, and any rebel that had faced it before would know that this was Darth Mavanger's warparty. But what followed was not the opportunity for parley that he had extended in the past. There was no call for surrender, no warning against rebellion. For Mordecai, who stood on the fresh bridge of the new Star Destroyer which was affectionately called the Raven's Bane by the crew, this was not an annexation. This was a message. The rebels had taken someone precious to him. Before, with Lord Xahl's death, he had settled for his conquest of the Outer Rim, to bring the wilds of the galaxy under the Sith Empire, as had been their shared dream. Now, he would send a message. They had taken someone he loved, and for it, they would die. What few ships were in orbit that didn't land on the planet or leave the system were quickly annihilated, whether it be civilian or otherwise as fighters swarmed from the rest of the fleet. A new Captain, one who's name he hadn't learned yet, asked him for orders. Mordecai sneered, staring down at the world below with spite in his heart, and his fury bubbled forth once more. "Burn it to ash." Before long, hundreds of Sith transports launched, and Mordecai followed suit. They had their own orders, relayed to them by the current commander of his ground forces, but Mordecai had a special plan in mind. His transport beelined straight for Theed Palace, home of Naboo's royal family. They would not escape. He had received word that there was a new Dark Lord, one he had heard of during his days amongst those of the Sith Academy, and that he had received a message from her. He was not interested in bending the knee to a new Dark Lord- His priority now erased all others. Every rebel on this world would die, and he would do so on as many worlds as it took to avenged his love.
  3. Before Mordecai could respond, the command center lit up with incoming communications, calls and reports streaming in through most of the consoles. As they did, Mordecai felt a shift in the Force, something precious being snuffed out. Dread filled his heart, his vision tunneled on the map, and as if in slow motion, he turned as an officer swiftly approached, a datapad in hand. "My lord, we've been contacted by our forces at Mon Cal. They've pulled out. The Krayt's Fury was lost- Captain Jarvus stayed behind to co-ordinate the retreat. No word if he made it out or not." Mordecai went numb. So that had been it. He didn't need a report to tell him that Jarvus was no longer amongst the living. Mordecai leaned forward onto the table in the command center, the glass flexing under the pressure. His breathing deepened. His rage, always concealed behind a veneer of sophistication amongst his troops, began to show. His face contorted with loss, and the glass under his armored hands began to spiderweb out, disrupting the projection that filled the room. His sorrow and grief were gasoline to the raging fire of his fury, and he struggled to contain it now. His limbs shook, his face a dark reflection of the calm he often showcased. In a shower of glass and sparks, his fist burst through the holotable, briefly darkening the room. A tense silence hung in the air before he spoke. "Relay my orders. Plot an immediate course for Naboo- returning forces from Falleen and Mon Cal are to rendevous with us there."
  4. Type: Capital Ship Class: Star Destroyer Length: 1,800m Crew: 13,000 Gunners: 500 Armament: 16 Medium Turbolaser Batteries 20 Siege Torpedo tubes 72 Heavy Concussion Missile arrays 32 Point Defense Laser cannons Description: The first new ship to come from the Geonosis shipyards since the Clone Wars, the Abaddon class Star Destroyer is heavily modeled after the Victory I class star destroyer. Featuring two dozen torpedo tubes and nearly 600 individual concussion missile tube, the Abaddon Star Destroyer makes up what it lacks in armor in pure firepower. Built for short, brutal engagements, it carries enough ammo for up to three full salvos from its concussion missiles, as well as 200 spare torpedoes. While lacking in close-in defense, the ASD is not defenseless, featuring a small array of turblolasers and point defense cannons, though against other capital ships it relies on its obscene number of missiles. As an almost unintended side effect, the lack of turbolasers led to excess power capabilities, allowing for much more powerful targeting computers and extra power to shields, though its ammo remains limited. The ASD works, at it's best, in flash skirmishes against other capital ships and cruisers, where it fires its salvos and ends the fight swiftly.
  5. He had been right to discuss this with the Captain, at the very least to confirm his own suspicions. He had spread his forces too far here, and without support from the Dark Lord, that had proven dangerous. He'd been unable to support his allies at Mon Cal much in the way that Delta had suggested. What he did notice was a possible flaw. Reaching towards the projection, he pointed out a missed planet. "The Rebels know how to fight. One of the failings I've witnessed among the Sith, both in myself and amongst those in power, is that we have not taken this into account. I overextended once, and I was not in a position to aid our allies on Mon Cal. Naboo and Bothawui are both traditionally rebellious locations- planets like them are why I took our forces so far into the Outer Rim. Naboo is one of the most pressing concerns, but there is another that would be problematic if we advanced as you suggest. Pushing beyond Naboo to take Bothawui would leave any remaining forces of the False Emperor at Ryloth behind our lines, and with my forces waning, I cannot risk our supply lines being disrupted by them. Naboo is time-sensitive, I agree. The rebels are likely trying to convince the queen of their politics, and we should stop them before they get the chance to turn Naboo into a bastion." He pulled up the larger map in the command center, showing the current fronts of the campaign, adjusting it to show what the front would look like if they took Bothawui next. "If we take Bothawui, Ryloth is squared away on the opposite side of the campaign- I don't with to have a second front in this campaign. In addition, while unlikely, if the Rebels have any presence at Vernzah Torrah, we've put a hostile world in the middle of our supply lines. However unlikely that is, with the Rebels showing the capabilites that they have so far, it is not a risk worth taking. The rebels already know of my presence in the Outer Rim- we shouldn't rush ahead unless absolutely necessary. And if the child wants my head, then she is more than willing to try and take it. I welcome the vacation that killing her would be."
  6. Mordecai was only slightly amused by the Hutt's antics- With the successes that he'd achieved, it was clearly a facade, but to what end had yet to be discovered. He was about to send his response when he got a report- The Captain had returned from Falleen. He returned to his command center, where he finally responded to the unruly apprentice that had contacted him. "Claim Sullust for the Sith, and your deeds will not go unrecognized. When you return, we will finally have an opportunity to speak." He turned to face Delta as he entered the command center, giving him a curt nod as he gave his report. The people of Falleen had put up a stiff resistance at first, but had been crushed with a swift and violent strike at multiple locations by way of orbital bombardment. "Good. Resistance was handled swiftly and brutally, and while it was perhaps on the excessive side of things, the results spoke for themselves in this instance. We're receiving preliminary reports from Mon Cal- we lack specifics on the situation, but it seems as though it is a losing battle. You're a veteran of many wars, Captain, what do you think our next move should be?" Mordecai already had ideas, of course. There were a number of prominent worlds that required his attention, but he wanted to see what the veteran would suggest.
  7. The Krayt's Fury let out another shudder as bomber wracked it's hull with high-yield explosives. The battle was lost. Most of the crew had already evacuated the ship, regrouping with the remaining forces and returning to Geonosis, where Lord Mavanger most likely awaited the news of this battle. Captain Jarvus had remained to coordinate the retreat, and now, with no allies remaining, the Fury finally began to gave out. A new klaxon began to blare, signaling that the ship had suffered a critical reactor leak. Another flashing light indicated that the hull's integrity was below 30 percent. At this point, even if he tried to make it to an escape pod, and there was a route still available to him, he wouldn't make it in time. He sighed sadly. Fear of one's death was natural. Though there was no one remaining on the bridge to witness it, he felt ashamed still. He had served with distinction. With victories over Corellia, Kuat, Geonosis, he had served the Sith Empire well. His counsel had aided a campaign that would be remembered for generations. He had loved, laughed, and been happy for two years. If this was the end of his life, he would face it with courage. He keyed one of the communication panels, sending a final word of warning to the rebels. He would make them fear his death. They would always remember the day that the Rebel Alliance sealed its own fate. "You will all face the storm that comes with this victory, and not one of you will survive. He will kill every last one of you." Behind him, the alarms grew more frantic. The ship shuddered a final time as the ship's reactor self destructed, detonating the core and sending a chain reaction throughout the rest of the vessel. As the blast entered the bridge, Jarvus smiled. He would become a martyr.
  8. Mordecai sneered at her nonchalance. She didn't understand the place she had put his campaign in with such a brazen maneuver. Not only would those be precious days lost in the campaign, but to be forced to spend their resources on such extensive repairs so early on... It was an ill omen, to be sure. He growled as she relaxed in her bed, seemingly comfortable with her failure. "You have become complacent with your title, Kahla. It would do you well to not forget the methods of the Sith- those who are not useful are discarded. I fail to see the use in a commander that cannot win such an easy battle. When I gave you a lordship, I took responsibility for your actions. I put my name behind your own in support. And I promise you, if you bring further disgrace to the Sith Empire, that we will consume your power for ourselves. That is the Sith way. I would recommend, rather than sitting in bed drinking warm tea and hopped up on painkillers to escape the pain that a Sith should embrace, that you should be studying up on battle tactics and honing your own capabilities." He swiveled on his heel, tossing one more line of warning over his shoulder as he did so. "The eyes of the Empire are on this campaign. Every victory shall be amplified, but so shall every defeat. You'd do well to remember this conversation in the future." He stalked out of the room, glancing at his communicator as he received a message. His mood was further soured by its contents. Falleen was subjugated, which was good, but the Hutt lacked the air of a Sith. Though, he knew there was more to the Hutt's attitude than met the eye. From his victory over the Jedi master Sandy Sarna, to his unexpected absences regarding the campaign... Not for the first time, he found himself regretting that Xahl had died before sharing what he had learned. Mordecai had been too busy to devote further time and effort into the matter, but perhaps now it was time to test the Hutt's mettle. He sent out a transmission to all of his assets in the Outer Rim. "All forces, prepare for a debriefing in two days time. The first stage has been a resounding success"
  9. Jarvus grimaced as he watched the Krayt's Fury fall apart around him. He remained calm- to panic would do nothing for his people. For the Empire. The battle was being fought by tooth and nail- while he had considered a retreat, it would have been disgraceful to leave his allies alone in this fight. That decision would cost him, however. The grim reality was that the Fury was likely on its last legs. Only a few more volleys would do her in, and all hands aboard would likely me lost. He had to give his orders now. "All non-essential personnel, report to the nearest escape pod. To all remaining ships under my command- If the Fury falls, you will be under the command of Darth Tyra's forces." Klaxons blared, and he breathed deeply, his face the steely visage of Imperial calm. His heart ached, however. Would he never again serve Lord Mordecai? Was this truly his end? It was likely. More than anything, however, he ached for what his death would do to the Sith Lord. He had been there when Lord Xahl had been slain in battle. He had borne witness to the man's grief firsthand. In the aftermath, Mordecai had slain his enemies without mercy. Before, he had been opposed to the rebels and their ideals, but he had understood them, somethign that had led to mercy in his heart, though to say that to the Sith would not have gone well. After Xahl, his heart had hardened. He had grown distant. Angrier. Filled with a deep rage. He pitied the fools that would oppose Darth Mavanger after today.
  10. Darth Inmortos vs Mythos First, I'd like to say that this was a close duel, and neither side should feel that they did any less than their best. Both players played their characters admirably, and the contrast between Inmortos's refined movements and tactics against the more primal outbursts of Mythos set an excellent atmosphere. This was a short and sweet ruling. The only specific that comes up is probably what swayed the duel. A duel between an NFU and a FU is always going to be an uphill battle- to help NFUs even the field, they gain a number of advantages, from tools of war to an NPC retinue. While the duel itself was well written and well handled, and both characters were played admirably, Mythos repeatedly abandons these advantages, from ordering his retinue away pre-duel, to dropping his weapon and lunging with tooth and claw against an opponent armed with the Force and a lightsaber. The use of his cybernetic arm was excellent in this situation, but unfortunately it was not enough to sway the duel. The winner is Krath Inmortos Next post goes to Inmortos. Well done both of you.
  11. Captain Jarvus stood on the bridge of the Krayt's Fury as it left hyperspace, looming menacingly above the planet of Mon Cal. It seemed they had arrived later than planned- Mon Cal was already under attack. He was arriving with the second wave of reinforcements- the first had only served to regain the footing they had lost. This trickle was dangerous- if they got caught out before Darth Mavanger's fleet could arrive in proper force, it would be devastating. "Defensive positions. Move to regroup with the rest of the Sith forces. Do not allow them to separate us, and victory may yet be ours. Lords of Mon Cal, The Warden of Kuat sends his regards. We will not let your holdings fall." Lord Mordecai disliked that title- he thought it pompous to wield such ungainly accomplishments like a beacon, and despised others who did so. But he did not know the effect such titles had on the regular man- The greatest warriors of the era all had such titles. The Spider. Mandalore the Bloody. The Mad. For a common man to hear that such a warrior led them into battle was a great thing. He frowned. Their fleet was spread thin. Between the planets currently under occupation in the Outer Rim and this attack on Mon Cal, he knew he would need to be decisive in his victory here. They couldn't afford to be bogged down in a war of attrition.
  12. When Mordecai returned, it was to a mixed message. On one hand, the rebels had run once their Jedi had fallen. On the other, a not insignificant portion of his fleet was burning. While there seemed to be no lost ships, many had clearly taken heavy damage. It certainly wasn't the sight he expected to return to- It seemed that he would need to have a word with Darth Tyra. He angled his ship towards her cruiser, making a quick journey towards its hangar. Once he landed, he was quickly informed that she was in the medical wing with serious injury. She was alive, then, but injured. He walked briskly towards her room, opening the door and stepping in. He took in her condition for a moment before speaking. "While I am please to see you live yet, I am most disappointed that in the state of our fleet. We have two cruisers with critical damage, and their frigate escorts received damage as well. The should have been virtually no damage against a lone carrier and its escort. What happened?"
  13. Mordecai was thrown backwards by the blast, tumbling through the mud and rocks. He was thankful for his armor- while the shockwave was dangerous, the armor had absorbed most of the damage, and protected him as he tumbled into the ground. Had it not been for that, he likely would have broken many bones, and maybe been defeated. He rolled to his feet, staggering as he righted himself, searching for the Jedi. He spotted her, her white robes sullied with grim from the battle, laying in the mud. Still breathing. He walked over, kicking her saber away with his boot as he reached down, pulling her to her feet by her robes. The fight had left her, he could tell. It wasn't surprising- such a blast was bound to be taxing on any Jedi. He leaned in, whispering into her ear, his voice uncharacteristically soft. He spoke to a fellow warrior now, whether she believed it or not. "Die on your feet. And if you return- remember what led you here." He pressed his saber to her sternum, igniting the blade as he did so. When he felt her body grow limp, he released her, letting her crumple to the ground. His exhaustion caught up with him, and he sheathed his sabers. He glanced at the transport he had come with, debating if he should finish them off as well. No. Let her death be enough. He moved back towards the temple, leaving her body to the elements. Her light was already fading from the accursed place with her death. HE could sense what he was looking for, and in a short time, he had found it. A small pyramid, faintly glowing red. A Sith holocron, a locked box containing any kind of useful information, and the Dark Side was the key. He lifted if, placing it into a pouch in his armor. Afterwards, he exited the temple, boarding his shuttle with a message to the remaining rebels. "Rebel forces. You have lost. Your Jedi lies dead on the planet's surface." The shuttle shuddered as his took off, making a heading for his cruiser in orbit.
  14. Mordecai pressed the advance as his emotions, his momentum, and his fervor reached a glorious crescendo. His blades were no longer tools- in this moment, the in the midst of the perfect discourse of battle, they were extensions of his very being. Their humming and whirring as they sliced through the air was like music to him, and he lost himself in their melody. Every blow led into the next, and the next, and the next. Every slash fueled by his anger, his rage. Every step fueled by his pride. With every blow that glanced off the Jedi, his frustrations grew, and he used that frustration to further power his attacks. The dark side was his fuel. He wrenched his strength from it, shaping himself into an unstoppable force of whirling blades and heavy armor. He let out a roar of fury, resolving to end this battle now. He pressed the advance, his momentum carrying each blade to its next attack. She wasn't attacking, so he would pour all of his power into his attacks to make sure she never got the chance. He unleashed another flurry of attacks, fully releasing himself to the movements of the battle, each attack intended to be a finishing blow, but building to something. First he struck high, for the Jedi's neck. As he did, he used the force in an attempt to pull her closer, a second blow aimed to amputate her legs at the knee. A third and fourth from both sabers intended to remove her arms. Each blow was debilitating in its own right, powerful and fast, fueled by the dark side as he moved in for the kill. He struck at each of her extremities in an attempt to open her guarded center. It was then that he unveiled his finisher. A final blow, a stab, directed straight towards her heart. Into it he poured every ounce of speed and strength he had left, the dark side energies that enveloped the blade cutting at anything that it found in its path. ((3))
  15. Mordecai could feel his saber slice into flesh. It was cathartic- this battle was so far removed from the stresses and the weight of responsibility that commanding his campaign often left him with. A welcome change of pace. He had not truly fought since Kuat, and while realistically it hadn't been that long ago, it felt like an eternity. This was a release- his pent up anger and frustration at the locals who defied him. His fury and hatred towards the Rebels who would seek to destroy the only stable government in the galaxy. His disgust for the Imperial Knights and the Jedi Order, who would seek to abolish his order. And there were smaller things too. His grief that still throbbed in his heart at the loss of his friend. His shame that he hadn't been able to avenge him. His pride in the Sith he had trained and at the forces he had gathered. All of it was unleashed here, in this battle, let off the chain that he kept bound so tightly around his emotions. It was in this haze of battle that he missed the flash of light- he barely managed to cover his eyes with his arms before he was blinded. His eyes throbbed in dull pain, and he blinked rapidly as he opened them. It took him a moment to re-orient himself to her position, but once he had he pressed forward once more, this time pursuing the Jedi directly. He intended to keep her on the backfoot, away from her lightsaber. Beyond that, it was only a matter of getting a few good hits in. He moved quickly, making sure to continue his relentless advance in an attempt to push her back and further away from her weapon. He lunged forward, leading with his left foot as he stabbed towards her stomach with his left saber. His next blow came with his next step, his right saber coming down towards her left shoulder. The next few blows followed suit, Mordecai making sure that with every blow, he attempted to push her back, for her to lose ground. Another blow, from his left saber to her thigh, and one more from his right to her torso, each faster than the next as his emotions flared, fueling his momentum, and fueling each blow with blinding speed. He had her on the ropes- She wasn't a fighter, clearly. He had experience in combat, training, and equipment on his side, and the power of the dark side flowing through his body with every blow. She was unarmed, and on the backfoot, and yet... She was still dangerous. He knew better than to underestimate his opponents. He had gotten carried away, and he'd lost his momentum for it. He would be foolish to think that was the only trick the Jedi had up her sleeve. ((2))
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