Exodus

”œAs You Wish.”

Relinquishment. -- The anemic skies of Umbara parted and it's dark, sunless heavens split in twine. An ancient artifact, sleek and burnished to a haunting extent, pushed through the stratosphere with a savage vastness. It was a chariot of Darkness that was as black as midnight and dressed with a cobweb design of fluorescent green; undoubtedly, The Arachnid. The Star Destroyer amassed over the planet without a sound but loomed over it as if destruction could but the only reasoning behind its presence. Below, a series of reconnaissance ships appeared from the once uncharted lands and entered the peerless vessel; how long had these scout ships been here? It was too late now, the information was now delivered. Rapid deployment troops expanded from the craft and an incredible breadth of smaller ships launched onto the massive stretch of land. It was reported that a developed capital was sighted with the indigenous people of this planet and that would be the initial vocal point of this entire scheme. Outside interference was a complication that these men would not have to bother themselves about as this planet was clandestine and eclipsed from the navigational systems of both Empire and Alliance regiments; a ghost planet thought to vanish from this galaxy long ago. Construction would be difficult primarily, but once influence was spread towards the people of this nation, a lack of resources would be a thing of the past. The men sent to this planet were under the rule of a man well versed in the dark arts so even these mens were differentiated and specialized in various arts of their own. The multiple special task forces were soon evenly distributed to critical locations where they would begin the assimilation of these gifted aboriginals; there was no aggressive nature used surprisingly, but a most persuasive method that would guarantee success. As hours, days and time itself passed; this world came closer to fruition. Day 002 | Militaristic Procedures Clouds lined the sky as the sun rose overhead. Distant thunder cracked as Mother Nature did her earthly duties. It was a dreary morning, humid and wet, but a brave woman raced on. The muddy soil beneath her feet sloshed with every step. She had been running throughout the night and she needed to know how far she had run. With a quick thought her helmet flashed with information; fifteen miles from her last check point. She stopped, placed her hands to her hips to gather her breath, and then pulled the helmet from her head. The humid air quickly washed over her face, instantly causing her to sweat uncontrollably. She stood motionless in a wide open field, blankly gazing into the distance. The woman had covered the full range of the plateau. She had climbed down the back side and ran all the way around it, and had finally arrived at the squad rendezvous point; the forgotten and forsaken Sith Academy. A quick calculation of her speed and distance, and comparing that to the squads slow pace, she figured that she arrived roughly a few hours ahead of them; and the estimated time of arrival was noon. She turned her attention to the cliff of the plateau, gazing up its incline to ensure that there was none who still drew breath near this abandoned sect of land. A light mist of rain began to fall and the woman lifted her head into the sky. She unbuttoned the top of her light armor to let the cool water wash over her. She sat down in the field, rocked backwards and rested in the tall grass. The squad would show up in a few hours, and the project would continue, but for now she was able to have a moment; a rarity not given in these harsh times. She pulled out her flask, and took a shot from the intoxicants and frowned when she realized it was empty. She closed it and tossed the bottle to the side. It was hard to believe that three weeks ago she was on the imperial home world, no purpose in life with talent laying to waste until Exodus had found her. The events of this year were weighing heavy on her mind, and nothing could wash it from her forethought. She recalled the events of that eventful day. Mercenaries, sloppy ones, lobbed a grenade into her position not with an intent to harm her but not caring if she got in the way neither. The grenade landed between 'him' and several civilians. She then watched as the dark robed man gripped the boiling ball of plasma, delayed its impact with sheer compression, and fed the violent device back between the teethes of those that sent it. There was now purpose in her life, no more looting the leftovers of what the mercs would leave behind; there was reason. She opened her eyes as the rain began to pass, buttoned up her modified armor, and pulled on her helmet. Her clock read 1158 hours. A hiss of compression confirmed that her suit was sealed and she stood to her feet. ”œThis is Recon, does anybody copy?”

[ Will Continue To Edit Up-To-Date Defense Details And More ]

”œYou Jedi belittle in wit, ceaselessly.”

Ridicule? He couldn't believe the depth of effort that this imprudent brute had pitched in against one such as himself. It disheartened Exodus without a doubt that, he, of all men, would be underestimated under such circumstances; one where he could wipe the face of them all in but a thought. He refused to focus on the skepticism however, and replaced his attention on the reckless attempt before him. As the Jedi, or what he assumed to be a Jedi, moved in eventful haste, Exodus lifted a brow with interest. The force hauled and heaved with questionable might, but the advocate of evil resisted its strain. It was odd but his defiance proved futile as his boots sparked against the steel plates beneath him and his resistance at that point seemed to release, or was it that he could resist such a pull no longer? The transition became overbold as the Sith Master exploited the basic tactic and imposed his own twist. He forthwith summoned an excellent and precise amount of the Force to convulse around his form and instead endowed himself with a prime sustenance of energy necessary to explode from his position with tremendous speed. It was a success; the pull and the push amassed emphatically and Exodus was launched high above the action. His ascension reached impressive heights and he managed to plow his blade of energy across the skyscrape of the ship. A prolific amount of sparks showered downward just above the man who chose to swing his blade prematurely at simply, nothing. The long soaring arc came to an exquisite landing with Exodus down on one knee and his blade and arm extended to the left of him. ”œسشصض”

Exodus couldn't help but associate the somnolent fire with the fierce plight of his soul. The cinders howled loud as the echo of explosion bounced off of the barren harbor. He would've taken the second to check if his counterpart had become consumed by the passionate flames, but such a satisfaction was not his for the taking. The wind of another blade bounced towards his own position and an intuitive backlash condemned his opponent. The two weapons of prestige cackled until an evanescent seethe of steam lifted from the poise. Exodus smiled and could feel, appraise and decipher the substance behind his opponents' physical force; his own carnal ward became the appropriate judge as his muscles contorted and stiffened to match the power being dished out. ”œJedi...”

The men that surrounded the room now stifled as the chill of death crept up their spines. Exodus stood still, calm and without so much as a flinch in reaction to their screams of absolute pain. The shouts hollowed out and he was merciless in his frozen stare; the men couldn't even breath, they suffered and convulsed on the floor with attempts to free themselves from their entrapment. It was horrifying, but amusing nonetheless. The remainder of soldiers somehow maintained an honest composure even as their comrades slipped in and out of this realm; their will could not be broken. ”œJedi..”

Alarms of endangerment, echoes of explosions, sheer pandemonium and the concrete innuendo of fear sewn itself into the entire scene. Exodus kept an impossible patience about him as he lowered the ramp from his established starcraft; his force distinction was detained to a bare minimum, but as the ramp fell onto the cold plated floors, it became hopeless to attempt to sense his presence. His peerless frame of physique stood tall and loomed over the crowds of mortals which hastened around the rather large dock. He released a soft breath from his tenuous hood and lowered his attention to the woman who stood but a small distance from his position. The moment for him to speak was now, but he kept silent. The woven weaves of wind brushed passed his excellence and lifted his apocalyptic wardrobe afloat and still, silence conquered. He almost hesitated but refused as he took his first step forward. Another one, quicker this time, had led him closer to her but he was in no such haste. It was aesthetic, but Exodus was now a whisper away from her in just a few steps. The impeccable skin that covered him whole came close to hers and almost brushed upon her ear loaf before he opened his mouth and allowed a tasteful aroma to compliment his words. ”œYou've grown, Dominique.”

If there is a desire for peace, we must understand war. This entire breadth of space was polluted in it however and countless men here weren't at near's end to understand, nor accept war. He could foretell that this was just another blood bath justified with sheer insolence and at this point, the scene had become inescapable, he pitied them all. Exodus, in mid-thought, released a stubborn breath from his hooded features in boredom and watched as it's chill bearded the controls beneath his metallic gauntlets. He swept his midnight wardrobe across it and witnessed another surplus of endless victims blink onto his radar; the more the merrier. The Hand of Honor; a familiar ship at best, or at least a concept model that reminded him of another neared his location. He didn't bother with the dramatic announcement of his arrival, nor the boast and bluster of his known capabilities; those who knew him, knew what he could do and if his presence was felt, the unease would arise. Exodus appropriated his thrusters and propped his speed for landing on the impressive vessel before long. His starfighter remained identical to the crafts that were being released and since the communications seemed to be distorted to an extent, he preferred to just land and show face once it was required; they'd find out who he was. (Short post.)

Dominique. Perhaps she was overly embarrassed to be wedged in such a pitiable act, or perchance there was more in the wake of it all. She had left with not a word to spare, and that alone inclined the latter. Slowly, the dreaded and the moreover torn cloak descended to the floor as if losing its vivacious vibrancy altogether. A single finger rested upon an inconspicuous desk, tapping along in queue with the foreboding silence. This must've been strange to the fervent Oblivion, but indulgence was the least of worries coming from him, after all he was what they'd call ”“ A Krath. ”œI doubt butter would even melt in her mouth.”

The squirming vendetta was crushed without even a whisper released into the living world, just another insect beneath the foothold of men, no ”“ Gods. Their dying pleas were snuffed before shadows that once were deemed their own, but had soon betrayed everything they lived for. Black was replaced with blood. It was amusing that those around him had no trace or even a hint at that, of where such a prominent figure had dispersed too. He was here, and then he was gone. It was all they were left with, and in spite of that they ran with it. Brimming austerity burned within new riveting eyes, voiceless irritations quivered in a silent tone, and this tongue of creative description could barely fathom it all the same. Instead of returning from the depths of obscurity with new weapons, or new items of windfall destruction; he returned with perspective anew. It took only a short hiatus to realize when Exodus did truly fall, none would be there to even witness it, and this reality left him pivoted in the fiercest darkness feasible ”“ A loneliness bound to surmise paranoia. Lately, a question of faith had risen within the preponderance of businesses, brotherhoods, friendships and servitudes, a question that would not remain smothered beneath pillows of ambition. Instead, at every turn, it reared its nasty head. This was never a new discovery though, this abandoned disposition ”“ rather, it was quite the contrary. The entire crew basked in a similar silence, questioning nothing while becoming more akin to the phenomenal genius that commanded the ship. The constant echo of gentle movement pacing its way to and fro was the only sound to be heard as they descended upon Kamino. Of course, this majestic star destroyer was authorized to the tooth and already held in the highest regard among the Empire and thus their quick transaction ferried through. -- ”œAs would I”

In the silent darkness of space, a solitary expanse of monumental life drifted like a corpse, calling to its creator. Its secrecy was faultless as it entered unfamiliar regions, so that hardly a light could be seen through its viewing ports, and the only sign of life was the slow spinning of the gravity stabilizers on its aft section. The flames danced before him, creating illusions that sparkled in his eyes. Illusions which slowly changed from random colors to haunting images of the past, things he'd rather forget. Although he couldn't feel the warmth of the sensation, memories of what it felt like lingered within his mind, he had lost sensitivity to it a long time ago; after this was all after maybe his humanity would return to him, in all probability, not. Whispers clung to the wind-like moans; voices that belonged to the phenomenal Arachnid could be heard by him alone. The two ”˜beings' existence were close to their ultimate unison, even his crew longed for his desirable influence, to be led by a true warrior. -- The order to launch came through a commanding officer's helmet COM link, jolting him to full alertness. Flipping switches on his control panel, he activated his TIE Interceptor's repulse lifts and released the brackets holding the fighter to the landing rack. With a gloved hand, he eased the throttle forward until his Interceptor was out of the Star Destroyer Arachnid's landing bay. Into his comm., he ordered, "Delta Flight, form up on me. Two-thirds throttle, sensor gain to maximum. Let's make this transfer quick." -- Once the pick-up was completed, Exodus would no sooner depart from Roon and head towards a most insignificant location.

The sea was in his thoughts. He knew not why, for he never longed for the sea. He had only dwelled on it once from a distance. It was only a faint memory of the sky abruptly meeting the water in a harsh kaleidoscope of color as the sun set on the water. Now, in his imaginings, he looked on it in a different light. The air was crisp upon his face, the sea roaring in the pull of the tides, and the sky a golden color from what could only be explained as a storm coming in. The sun glinted on the waters and they danced on the surface reflecting into his waiting eyes. He felt more alive as he followed the dancers in the water. The waters danced until they appeared to submerge before the oncoming typhoon, it was comparable to the calm before the storm. An allusion to upcoming events perhaps, or a sign of something entirely different; such was the manner of foresight. On the other hand, Exodus stood impassively on the waterfront as a borrowed speederbike rendezvoused with a vessel that would transport the Master of Darkness skyward ”“ The Arachnid would soon meet its brilliant architect. -- ”œDacu Assassins?”

Eyes widened, not from fear, but from infuriation, and at that moment agony struck as well, as the inconceivable flames of treachery smothered him once more. Immediately, Exodus' entire frame tensed with raw clout, his sullen cloak of nightmare cried out in defiance, as his eyes called onward that very same darkness present on the day he had heartlessly mashed her skull in. Callous fingers dug deep into their palms, as Exodus began to ultimately struggle with his restraint. The ghosts' warnings nearly fell on deaf ears while Exodus looked onward with downright disgust, hatred, revulsion, anything similar could elucidate the significance of his reaction. Yet, with futility Exodus raised a quick hand as he twisted his features, sadistically clutching the spirits' neck. It was a clear sign, this was what took the conscience from him, and this is what had created an unstoppable creature who dared to ascend, one who even trampled those who had introduced him to his awakening. Yes, she had turned him to what he was, and he ran with it, growing with it beyond all expectations. ”œ”¦risk the ones closest to me and it would be your last breath.”

Silent ambiance everlasting, whatever arose within the density of his mind was entirely unheard of. A sense of ambition graced his sixth sense connecting reality and reverie once more, it was complete, and it was absolute. The Arachnid had already begun to cry out to its Master, an intangible sound that only Exodus could comprehend or even hear. Reminiscent of his only child, this gargantuan miracle of existence now called to him and him alone. -- Tczzht ”“ ”œMy lord, communications will not last long but the conclusion of classified subject #0473 is a remarkable success. Your stalwart crew awaits your arrival my liege, this transmission and its link shall become obsolete at this time, may the Darkness serve you well.”

Insanity was found, lunacy that galvanized the Sith Master. Such features kept him lively and going for more than a few hours as he illustrated perfectionism while accumulating that very same knowledge into the phenomenon that was by large his mind. Satisfaction was established as Exodus began to slow his movements, both lightsabers buzzing with tremendous anticipation, as if alive and pulsing with that very same heartbeat. All at once; the harsh breathing, the echoing surroundings, the impossible movements came to an inhumane halt. There was silence, no outdoor interruptions, just complete hush within the delicate chambers. Slowly, Exodus bowed to nonexistence before seating himself flat on the solid floor. His eyes exposed no indication of exhaustion, only a single heave of a sigh begged to differ. Obsidian hilts found their homes within the brooding mess of black that Exodus wore, followed by closing eyes. It took no more than a pair of seconds to envision the multitudes of diverse bodies stemming throughout the immeasurable metropolis, followed by the unremitting wounds in the force, pooling from each of their own standpoints; it was beautiful. The children seemed to forget about him, as he probably deserved, for he too had a child that he inadvertently ignored and lacked care in her existence. Time was against him it seemed, and opportunities never presented themselves anymore, Exodus had to make them. Dominique had probably moved on with her life as well, it was awkward to say, but he couldn't fathom what he felt for his apprentice anymore then he could place what he once felt for Alora. It was evident that Dominique was a special case though; something to cherish with or without, while Alora had cast Exodus into condemnation, confusing his allegiances and restricting what he was truly capable of ”“ even if that was not her intentions, she had paid the penalty. So he sat, both hands supporting a distressed face that wanted to fall flat onto the ground, while his radiant hair lightened the darkness and danced before him with rapture. Exodus couldn't savor their problems he had come to figure, he could not let them hamper him anymore, for he was respected among Sith and could not wane under pressure. Nothing would get in his way, and nothing would stop him. The silence was truly phenomenal though, a most relieving factor when it came to situations like this. It made containing ”˜that' hunger so much easier, the tempest in a bottle the living would say, and a Black Death the lifeless would argue. All the same, he sat solemnly within his own Darkness, the same essence that comforted him more than anyone else could, cradled him to sleep.

He awoke to the echo of fat drops of rain falling on marble floors; of course it wasn't real rainwater, but a subject of psychological and physical training. It was a comforting resonance that inescapably brought to mind recollections of that very drop, a teardrop from each of his adversaries, those who chose to stand and die, or those who accepted their fate and were crushed under unwavering might ”“ Like his former Master. As he once reflected, it mattered not who stood in his way, brethren or not. They would succumb to a hungry vehemence. It was a certain lineage that eluded him which blessed him with such mentalities, but nevertheless it provoked a fear within those he had met. It took a moment for him to orient himself, to remember where he was. He had been waiting here for a time without end, and yet it had only been an hour or two at best. Memory came as it always did, with a miserable and melancholy sigh that seemed to originate from his very soul. It was raining and he was alone - by his own hand and will, but alone nevertheless. The knowledge that he had done this thing, that he was the author of his own misery did not ease his pain one bit, but it was an acceptable pain as well as an acceptable fate. If anything, the bitterness of that truth sank its teeth into him without mercy, worrying at the wound so that it would not heal, but rather fuel. The realization triggered a heartrending grip on both unique and standard lightsabers, equally becoming consumed in an unusual black flame that impaired the atmosphere before him. Form X was the easiest to nail down, as it was proved to be a most familiar technique with his former practices. Others were simple, and just ”“ nothing spendthrift, but there nonetheless. His movements were precise, daring and absolute; each footing, each arc establishing its own purpose and serving its own principle. Sullen black robes captured the air as his deadly waltz whizzed by in every which direction, allowing no oversight, no overstep, or any imperfections to impede his practice. He was unnervingly solemn, focused beyond all extent. Weaknesses were covered, found and marked, while audacious emerald eyes peeled the darkness in this room into his grasp. He demanded its existence, he consumed it wholly and breadth no room for exceptions. This façade of ”˜happiness' and ”˜kindness' was out of respect for worthy children at hand, but this mask could expose nightmares never before seen within this galaxy. Loyal to one, puppet to none, Exodus swept across the chambers with punctual murderer inheritance, a full-blown, unheard of assassin for the most part. Interference would have to be careful no less, such a stupor, or frame of mind rather, was tremendously dangerous to confront in the eyes of this Master of Darkness.

The chamber closed behind him and an unavoidable darkness strengthened. The intricate designs began to pulse in the presence of Exodus. The establishment pleased him and teased him to unshackle the immense flow of power that was hoarded into his single resilient self. He didn't care who felt it, as long as they appreciated its raw impact. To no regard, Exodus began to remove his articles of clothing, his grandiose war-ensemble as the pulsation matched his own. Of course his weaponry remained intact, and prepared for practice. After removing two lightsabers from their dwelling, Exodus ignited them and commit to his memory ”“ Recalling those who he had battled and defeated, those that wished to succumb to expertise rather than turning to a fresh home, a most undervalued home; The dark side. It was their failure nonetheless, and Exodus could only demonstrate to them through an inimitable display of what they thought would be reckless beatings, senseless motives and of course, allowing his own emotions to control him. No, they were mistaken; it was control that blessed him with a power beyond the reach of any mere Jedi. Jedi who cowered in fear of their emotions, but then again, there were Sith who whimpered with disgrace as well ”“ failing to acknowledge the stereotypical criticism placed on their heads and continued to act out of deranged stupidity. What surprised him most though was that he lacked interest for putting an end to those biased Jedi in these times. Recently, he had discovered a warrior who disallowed any to rule his dominion, he was his own man and with such influence he had a power never before seen by those who failed to control the Force. Ah, Piccolo was his name, and a name Exodus considered to remember, an excellent warrior in his own respects and someone who Exodus understood would never be a puppet to the mindless rages of another. In all honesty, Exodus knew that Piccolo ”“ The virtuous bounty hunter, had given Exodus a new perspective, one that he always recognized, but ignored ”“ a perspective better left unsaid. The experiences of old fuelled him this day. Both lightsabers lay gripped within cold palms understanding their route. Jar'Kai, Dun Möch, Trà kata all used against him in some method or another, and all of which would be understood this day and practiced as long as he drew breath. And so it would begin.

Structural perfection was the only thought that lingered in his mind now. The construction of this entire spacious room was delicate but perfectly versed in the darkest of manners. It was as if the bare walls exposed nothing visibly, but as thought was put forth; your own imagination was painted on those very same blank walls. He could see the fall of Naboo illustrated in blood, the cries of thousands as nature itself was corrupted and forced to drown innocence that be. Death, darkness and obscurity, smeared across the walls in every which fashion ”“ but indistinguishable to anyone but him. ”œThis will do just fine.”

It was a testament of ingenuity; really, Exodus had misapprehended the realism of his friends' resourcefulness. A world within a world stood before him with its brashness, an artificial combination of habitats he had even crossed before. To say he was not astonished would be pathetic untruth, such tranquility he was envious of. The artificial winds carried his radiant mane of hair through the ravenous airstreams, tasting the sour sea that came with it. The shine had returned to his emerald eyes, as he stood readjusting his gauntlet to the fashionable Brassard strapped to his figure. It still eluded him to a certain extent as to why he was here, but regret the decision he did not. ”œIt's most breathtaking my friend.”

Production was on queue, an assortment of qualified engineers processed unconstrained materials from every which direction with constructive tools that were specifically engineered into the work field. This particular prototype would revel in mystery, as it was a whisper among those instructed to construct it and would remain so until it was exposed from its underground habitation. Not only did the outer shell of the vessel become fabricated, but those necessary to conduct its ambiguities were created and filed into the defensive shell. It was, after all, a hive in its own respects and in saying so was intricately designed to flawlessness. There was still work to be done nonetheless, but the programmed laborers would never rested, never quench individual needs until perfection was achieved.

The undertone of that obscured memory flittered through his mind like a fly and brought a heavy, leaden feeling to a bitter heart. The blissful children stole all existing thoughts he had considered over all this anomalous research that Trowa had maintained. Exodus spiraled downward, his plummet an insignificant consequence of his minds' abstraction. It was fitting that he should end up hanging off of the end of the world, at the site of a couple snot-nosed minors. The introduction swept a breath of wind into the threatening phenomenon, and so he eased. ”œHello there,”

A small procession of steadfast schematic carriers had finally arrived after a rather discreet session of instructions was delivered from Exodus himself. It appeared that the schematics were well handled and specifically elaborate. The inconspicuous shuttle processed through the whole classification procedure and routed towards their eventual destination. Production would begin without delay and a masterpiece would be constructed on time.

In absolute compliance, Exodus was led into the confines of a certain hangar bay. Being his foremost time coming into contact with such a scenic world, Exodus was unaffected. It was eye-pleasing as first-hand but he preferred the wretched atmosphere of blood boiling planets that frightened off distasteful inhabitants. The ”˜around the corner' armada was something to take note of though, such a vast development and expanse to the mind-numbing servants Trowa had once had, then again, Trowa had changed. The clouded shell covering the cockpit unsealed itself once more, natural white gas spit from beneath the vessel before the tyrannical flow of power that was Exodus, stepped forth. A firm grip rose casually and pushed back the succulent folds of hair that ceaselessly teased his face. ”œTrowa”¦”

Outfitted in a more warlord oriented ensemble, the Dark Master gleamed with reverence. The exquisite robes were something gone astray in this day and age, worn only to compliment the flush of color in the ornamented battle shell. An impulsive reflex of an awe-inspiring gauntlet rocked the controls of a daring shuttle, approaching something of a fleet before the hidden planet of Roon. Easing his presence into view without any show of hostility, Exodus replied to a simple identification process. An outline of familiarity broke into inspection as he allowed the scouting crew to analyze his manifestation. Following his exposure, he tolerated a simple introduction to grace the communication links of those on the receiving end”¦ ”œBoo!”