Mavanger

Alrighty, first ruling, what could possibly go wrong? First, I want to congratulate both of you. This was an excellently written duel, one that on my first read through had already sucked me in. You both did an excellent job of detailing your surroundings and the effects the had on your characters. In addition, you both expertly handled injuries from previous duels, making it clear that they were there, and no, they weren't just fluff. Multiple times one of your characters would try something or think of something that didn't or wouldn't work due to present injuries and battle damage, as well as fully utilizing what remained of their kits very effectively. Well done. The only glaring errors in this duel comes from Blimp, firing three concussion rockets even though in his last dueled he emptied his reserves. There were no mentions of a restock or a reload, raising the question of where the rockets came from, and Terra's character sheet being edited before we could confirm that one of her NPCs was in fact kitted with a glop grenade (This is more forgivable, as the rebels came with the express intent to capture the enemy, and he could have just as easily picked one up from an unaffiliated rebel corpse and noone would have batted an eye, whereas finding three miniature concussion rockets on a pirate is considerably more jarring an idea). The takeaway from these is to A) Be mindful of what you have written on your sheet, and B) To be mindful that mods need the info as well When it came to taking new damage, however, I think Terra handled it more effectively. None of Blimp's attacks were useless. Each one, even if it didn't connect, was used by Terra to describe how she came to be in her current location, and damage was assigned accordingly. Terra only made three attacks the Blimp could respond to due to the formatting of the duel, and two of those were disregarded entirely by Blimp. Her opening flurry of shots were described as harmlessly bouncing off of his armor and the surroundings, and then again in the next post when she opened fire again. In the final two posts of the duel, both characters lose important parts of their kits. First, Blimp loses his armor, severely limiting his capabilities. Next, Terra loses her connection to Hades, which she'd been relying heavily on for the prior duel as well as the current one. The duel ends with both of them in the dark, stripped of their fancy tech and weapons, and left to duel it out with regular weapons and the naked eye. For Blimp, he's on the ground, his leg stuck in his armor, his mobility and positioning easily the more disadvantageous of the two. Terra, despite her injuries, is left standing, firing as an opponent that is for the most part, immobilized. This was a very close duel, and one that I'm glad will be my first ruling. But in the end, Terra's positioning and the rockets from Blimp mean that Terra is victorious over Blimp The next post is Terra's. Once again, I'd like to congratulate you both for an excellently written duel. For people that love Star Wars even without all the laser sword wizards running around, this is an excellent piece of storytelling that I look forward to seeing more of in the future!

Mordecai listened to his apprentice speak. She did so as though she were an equal, a slight he could forgive this time. He'd given her permission to do so, in a way. He would have to be more careful on how he worded his teachings, he supposed. And yet, she seemed to have missed a few vital details. "He did not cave. When you knelt before me on Korriban, you caved to my power. He did not. Even kneeling, he questioned my judgement. I'm sure he still very much thinks himself above us, but is too intelligent to truly believe he could take me. To politic among the Sith is a tricky thing. You must assert your dominance without over-reaching or self-aggrandizing, but if your opponent is someone of a higher position than you, you must show respect and bend the knee while showing you are not meek. To fail in either of these positions can lead to your death or ridicule among your peers. I doubt he will stay in line forever, but I am prepared, should he try to face me." He stopped a mere moment, to let Kahla take in his words. "The young girl has power in the force, and the anger to wield it. I was... misled by her original demeanor, and it will not happen again. But she is untrained, undisciplined. Should she have attacked, even you could have bested her. This will not always be the case, however, assuming she survives what is to come. As for the slave, you've missed subtext. I don't blame you. I despise the assassins and their way of needling their fellow Sith. He was questioning my leadership. I doubt he cares at all for the single life that I control in slavery. Seeing if I would take his bait. It was indeed a good way to judge my demeanor, though not in the way that you've assumed." He glanced at the door. The Captain was his personal advisor. Much of what Kahla said was important to know. There was more to command than an iron fist. Yet still she missed lessons. "Your subordinates are an important source of knowledge and advice, but you must always remember your station. As Sith, we are above any Imperial, regardless of their rank. This is a gift, but also a burden. None shall openly defy our will, but should a strategy or a campaign fail, you will be the one punished the most, not the grunts. Now, I grow weary of philosophizing. Come with me. We will spar, and I will assess your progress."

As the Cathar submitted, Mordecai moved on, listening to his words with only the faintest attention. He'd made his point, and was focused on the map of the galaxy in front of him. When Sirena spoke, he looked up, giving her a nod. "My hospitality is yours as long as you remain on this campaign. If you wish to leave I shall grant you one of my warships to ensure your safe return, and then it will return to me and my forces. When you wish to see your quarters ask any of the officers. They all know the way to the Sith quarters, in case they were to need me while I slept. " He was silent for a moment after they left, and the other officers followed suit. After they were gone, he continued speaking. "We'll save the rest of the breifing for when the other Sith join us. For now, sweep every ship for trackers and plot a course to Raxus Prime." "Tell me, Kahla. You were silent during this exchange, so you will tell me directly. What do you think of these Sith, and how would you have handled the interaction?" he asked, turning to his apprentice as those that were present filed out of the room.

Mordecai sneered at Durose. It was one thing to challenge one's ideals, but it was another to disrespect one's authority before his council. "If you would take a moment to take in the room, you would see that I surround myself with capable leaders and officers more experienced than I. I understand the requirement for those who would question my actions. These are warriors and tacticians who have earned my respect in the battle behind us. You, however, have not. You are an apprentice, one whom to my knowledge has never fought in a battle before. And yet you not only rebuke my decisions, but you question my very character without so much as thinking about why I would bother having this many present in my war room if not to heed their advice." The kneeling bothered him. He was not one of the Sith who required those around him to kneel. His own apprentice had only been made to kneel once, as a right of passage. "Stand. If I strike you down it will be in single combat, not while you are on your knees like a child waiting to be punished. You are right, presentation does matter. But you have not been to the battlefield. The slave is not an ally. It is an enemy, to be broken and shaped into a tool for proper use. It harbors hatred, which I will use. But it is not ready to be considered a person yet. And thus, it's legacy is the iron sands of Korriban, and it will fight for everything it has. The rags are a gift to preserve its dignity." He glanced at Kahla. Wisely, she'd stayed out of the fray. For now. "You need but only ask my apprentice, or the good Captain Maran how I treat those under my command. But you didn't. You didn't inspect, or ask questions. You only spoke, regardless of the truth evident around you. Is it not you who has shown hubris here, thinking yourself so right and so infallible that you assume a Sith with not only a higher title, but more experience than you, is less intelligent? Less capable of exerting his will?" As he spoke, he motioned to the cloaked figure who was staying on the sidelines, and then to an officer present at the table. Kahla had only been his apprentice for a few months, and yet she already understood his design. His initial judgement of her had been too fast, though she was capable by his hand and his training alone. The Captain, on the other hand, had been with him for nearly a year, and what had started as a professional relationship had grown more akin to a friendship. The Captain had schooled him in the art of warfare and tactics, and in return Mordecai had given him a voice among his closest advisors. Whereas before, Mordecai had forbidden him from taking command of the ship and his fleet, he was currently the only officer that was trusted with such matters. "There is a fine line, Durose, between voicing your opposition, and disrespecting your leaders. You'd be best to learn where it lay."

Interesting. The young woman seemed to carry a hidden spark of defiance. Perhaps this is what the seductress sought to nurture in the girl. His eyes locked with hers for a dangerous moment- A challenge to a Lord's authority was not one taken lightly. He uncrossed his arms, placing his hands on his hips as the Cathar's insolence echoed throughout the room. He was silent for a moment, glancing at Lady Sirena. If she weren't so vital to his plan, he would strike the man down now. Still, it was better to hold onto his anger for now. Nurture it. Let it blossom into something truly terrible. "Is this how you've trained your apprentices, Lady Sirena?" he asked, the implication hanging heavy in the air as the other lord spoke to her apprentices. His gaze landed on the Cathar once more. Even with her importance, his disrespect would not go unanswered. "Durose, is it? You call my leadership into question. My skill in war. You claim me to be a peddler of false promises and delusions of grandeur. But will you back your words with your blade? Will you try to strike me down, to claim my place as a Lord of the Sith and claim your title of Darth? Or will you let them waste away, too afraid of what may come to act. Would you shame yourself and your... girl, in casting empty accusations and baseless slander? What I do with my slaves is my prerogative as a lord of the Sith. If you wish to take that, then draw your blade." he hissed, the venomous promise of violence dripping from his words, his hands snaking to the twin sabers on his belt. "My very weapons that I would use to strike you down are trophies of my victories. You stand upon a fleet of my own making, preparing for a campaign of my design, and claim that I am not worthy of Lord. Perhaps you do not understand what it means to be Sith. Perhaps it is you who is unworthy." he spat.

Mordecai frowned at the Cathar. He was large in stature, and clearly strong. Unfortunately, a large physical presence also tended to incorporate an ego of the same size. He would keep an eye on him. The other was timid, unsure of herself. Content to let another speak for her. He sneered at her. Why she was worthy of being Sith in the other Darth's eyes was beyond him. Still, he had words for both. "I am Darth Mavanger. If you need any other proof of my ability, I am fresh from the battlefield. I've participated in many campaigns. Coruscant, Kuat, and Corellia most recently." He gazed on the two, together. "One who is strong in body, but weak in mind, and one who is weak in both. If you truly intend on being Sith, you will be forged in the fires of battle. This is our way. Emotions are your weapon. Use them all. Do not become a slave to merely anger or pain- to do so seals your fate. My scars are borne gladly, my own lesson when I was still an apprentice." He glanced at Roshan. "For you- your strength will serve you well. But your pride will be your downfall if you do not control it." Then to Aliss- "You will not survive in your current state. Timid and weak- either strengthen your resolve, or crumble and fall to others' ambitions." He straightened his clothes. He was not intimidated by any in the room. Two apprentices and a Darth that hadn't left Korriban in years. Even if she was a talented fighter, he was fresh and practiced. Still, a fight wasn't why he was here. He was here to make war. "You will be shown to your quarters by my troops. My slave will stay on Korriban and continue to recruit able-bodied Sith."

Mordecai stood in the command center of his flagship, beside his apprentice and the higher ranking officers of his forces as Sirena entered. The table in the center of the room held a hologram of the galaxy, zoomed into the outer rim. There were a few planets with annotations, such as Geonosis and Bothawui, bot other than that it was a standard map. He nodded as she entered, crossing his arms. "Lady Sirena. A pleasure to meet you in person. I'll cut to the chase. The Rebels are fighting back now. Where Coruscant and Carida with almost no resistance, they struck us at Kuat and beat us back at Corellia. What we have on them is numbers, so I'm opening a second front. We'll come at them from below. While they're focused on fighting the Dark Lord and his followers for the Core Worlds, we'll strike the outer rim. There are two objectives here- Expand the Empire, and establish a beachhead to attack Nar Shaddaa. We'll make a pit stop at Raxus before we commence to gather more ships. Geonosis will serve as our headquarters for the region, its manufacturing capabilities should prove useful. After that, we'll spread out through the outer rim and take as many worlds as we can before the Rebels can react. Then, we'll move to Bothawui, the staging ground I've chosen after some discussion with my staff. It's also the most likely place for the Rebels to try and stop us." He took a moment, studying the map. "It's a lot of space. I'll have to split my forces to take it all fast enough. Most of the fighting should be easy, unfortunately. Local planetary defenses and possibly scattered Rebel troops. It will be easy at first, but the longer we're active, the more time the enemy has to rally against us. Speed is the key factor here- don't fight a war if you can intimidate the locals instead." It was a sound plan, one that he'd been working at since his ascension to Lord. For nearly three years, he'd been fighting in this war. It had leant him the experience and the wisdom he needed to command this campaign, and in time, it make mark him worthy to be considered one of the Dark Lord's best. And perhaps, in time, he could surpass the Master of all Sith. That time was far away, however, and those were thoughts best kept to himself. For now. ~ She had been shocked at the Sith's words. At first, she'd doubted it, waiting until the Sith was gone to even consider it. But the Sith were treacherous people. Perhaps she wasn't the target of this trap- perhaps it was her master. They fought and schemed with eachother as much as they did with the Jedi and the True Empire. There was a possibility that the offer of escape was genuine... and yet, she didn't take it. To do so and fall victim to a trap for her would destroy all of this. All of her fighting and her struggling to be free, to fall to such a blatant trap for be worse than death. And so she wept. It tore at her soul. Yes, maybe she could escape. A day from now, a week, she would likely regret this choice. In fact, she knew she would. But it was a choice she couldn't risk. Not yet. She glanced at the communicator she used to receive word from her Master. Sneering at it, she knew her goal. She has a loose chain. A mistake. Sith didn't notice her without the spikes of anger and disdain that had grown from her mind in these times. She would train herself to suppress them, and then, truly, she would become a ghost.

Mordecai grinned, the scarred tissue stretching across his face as he responded. "The contents of my soul are for me alone, my Lady, though if you wish to wax philosophical, perhaps there will be time for that in the days ahead. I will see you when you arrive." The communicator shut off, and he glaced at the captain, nodding. "I'm done here. Close the line." he glanced over to his apprentice. "And Kahla, you are about to meet one of the Sith Academy's many dedicated teachers. You met one already, Lord Valinor, whom raised me from my ignorance herself. I expect you to give her the respect you would any Sith Lord. Unlike the Jedi, our titles are not empty platitudes. She will have wisdom to share. Though be careful- she is a seductress. And I mean that literally." He looked back out the observation glass. Korriban was beautiful, in its own way. The desolation and ruin that this planet brought across the galaxy- it was something to admire, the darkness surrounding it akin to what he'd felt near the Dark Lord. It was a shame he would only be here for a while longer. His campaign required decisive action, and he would deliver. ~ The slave stiffened as the Sith's attention turned back to her. Soon. Soon she would escape. That hope is what kept her going. Hope, and spite. She wouldn't let the Sith make an example out of her like they did the other who had been captured alongside her. This Sith was like all the others on this blasted rock- so full of herself, she would never see an attack coming. Not without help from the Force. "Go to the nearest landing pad. There is a shuttle waiting to take you and any apprentices you deem worthy to my Lord's current flagship, the Wyvern."

The E-851 blaster pistol was designed for any outlaw, scoundrel, or bounty hunter that needed a pistol that could be drawn quickly. With minimal sights and a light, sleek form, the E-851 blaster pistol is an incredibly smooth draw, and despite its relative length is one of the better choices for anyone who needs a fast gun. What it has in speed though it lacks in firepower, only capable of 15 shots before needing to be reloaded. It's crimson bolts are capable of both stun and lethal settings, and special variants replace both these capabilities for an ion weapon package. Its also an incredibly expensive blaster, its elegant design and finishing making it expensive to produce.

Mordecai chuckled inwardly at her attempt to disarm him with her looks and coy smiles. "The pleasure is mine, Lady Sirena. And in order to continue this meeting without the unnecessary posturing, I feel it is my duty to inform you that your charms will not work on me. I prefer the company of men." He was blunt about it, almost uncomfortably so, but it was necessary. he knew her reputation, and while he stood to gain by keeping up the charade, he would tire of it quickly. He was never one for political or social machinations for something so petty. Instead, he preferred to co-operate with his fellow Sith, rather than scheme against them. Those he held in contempt knew that fact well. He believed in the furthering of the Sith through personal power and gain, of course, but when the Jedi and false Imperials were strong enough to go on the offensive, and with the recent defeat the fleet had suffered at Corellia, it would be detrimental to fall into a deadly game of Sith politics. "In the interest of staying blunt, my offer is simple. I'm looking to begin a campaign, a second front on the Rebel worlds. Any further details must wait until we meet in person, but I am offering you this- Come with me. Conquer Rebel worlds, and spread the Sith Empire. In return, any force sensitives we encounter, I will entrust under your tutelage on the condition that they remain loyal to myself as well. You further your reputation as a Sith teacher, and get to kill any Jedi or Imperial Knights we find on the way. I prove myself as a Sith worthy of the Dark Lord's support, and gain a following among the Sith." He'd sought her out for a reason, of course. He could have contacted his former master, Lord Valinor, but she was already likely to support him under the right circumstances. lady Sirena was an unknown variable, and he needed a way into the Sith Academy's good graces to garner support among up and coming Sith that wouldn't raise too much ire from other Darths.

Korriban. The ancient homeworld of the Sith and the ancestral capitol of their empires. While no longer a capitol of an empire, it was still the heart of their order. The Korriban academy stood tall, relentless in its oppression and untouched in its darkness. It was here that he was trained. Where those from across the galaxy would seek power and fame. Where countless would fall in that pursuit, and countless more would grow into Sith. This was the purpose of his visit. If he was to build support for his plans, he would need to start here, where the young apprentices and acolytes served and learned. What better way to learn what a Sith is, than to witness conquest? The rust-colored world loomed in the darkness, his fleet drifting ominously towards it. He glanced towards the captain. nodding. "Get me a secure line." ~ On the surface, a woman moved along the sands, her tattered clothes barely worthy of a slave. She'd had a name once, long ago. Served the Imperial Navy with distinction. Now it was stripped from her, through physical and mental torture. She was a nobody, loyal to one Sith. She hated him, but she survived. He fed off of it, nourished it. It was hardly a life, but she would escape. Eventually. For now, she bode her time. Gathering information. She'd become an adept at remaining undetected. Most Sith would go out of their way to beat a slave. She was better than them. She'd reached her goal, a small metal device in her hand and she stalked towards the Sith. a Hapan woman, teaching her apprentice. She sneered. The slave closed the distance silently, speaking only at the last moment. "Lady Sirena, my master, Darth Mavanger, requests your time." she said, presenting the communicator in her hands.

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."

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.

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."

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."

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."

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))

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))

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))

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."

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."

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.

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."

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.

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.