Jump to content
Darth Jade

Corellia

Recommended Posts

To understand my mind at this moment, one must understand what brought me here. To understand my fear, doubt, and horror, one must first understand what led me there. It wasn't the moment in of its self that brought me to such emotion, but rather emotion that brought me to this moment. For I had known anger, rage, and hate so innocently pure in aspects few could fathom. From the day I slaughtered the offspring of those who slew my parents, where I vowed never to weild another weapon of death, to this moment, it had haunted me my entire existence.

 

So for me, in this moment, it wasn't just the darkness around me that i feared. No. It was what the darkness in me could become, especially around such a concentration of it. And as the emotions swirled a vortex around me, I could fill my own become intertwined, pulled and teased, like the spirits of yesteryear. And I was but a sensitive in its wake, feeling inept to fully combat it, even as i struggle within this ship known as Goliath. Even as i fought for what i felt was right.

 

As Ryu and Armiena fought faithfully on, I lingered in the back, hesitant and leary. I fought my own tension off by focusing on the Force and my breathing as I stood against the coldness I felt around me. It was as if I walked upon the River Styx and found myself lacking. And soon the winds shifted, smoke broiling upon's surface, threatening to swallow us whole. My eyes burned with bitterness, my tongue numb with flame as it encompassed us. I coughed against its toxicity, struggling to swim against it as I sank into its pit. And like any great body of water, it swallowed me. But not before I heard its forewarning as the darkness took me. Was it truly going to be my grave?

 

******************************************

 

When I woke, I could not find Armiena nor Ryu, rushing to my feet in a panic as my eyes adjusted against the burning still setting them aflame and forcing them to bleed their fluids. My saber in hand, deactivated, I wiped away the tearing sensation, looking around this darkened pit of despair I had fallen into. I could no longer feel the weeping cold I once felt, but it still lingered nonetheless, its aura engulfing as far as I could sense, blinding me against the Force I desperately clung hold to.

 

It was pure panic, feeling alone in the depths of this would be grave, unable to feel my Master nor Ryu, unable to sense anything around me. It was just like before, that day upon Dantooine. It felt half a dream and partial reality, like a nightmare I was unable to wake from. Even as I gazed about in the darkness, it felt like nothingness, just as it did when I stood above the corpses of both my dead parents, the kath hounds, as well as their litter I slaughtered in darkness. It felt like hell, and it seems I was destined to once again walk its numbing halls. 

 

The only question that remained to be asked was a simple but true one. Would I survive it just as I had before? Or would its madness seep into me now that i was no longer an innocent?


fdOeNPp.png

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Posted (edited)

((Accepted for KR / OK v Exodus))

 

As the whisper of Goliath’s mechanical air filtration died, the smoke moved in and stung at Draygo’s eyes. Even the amber and crimson glow from the emergency lamps was soon swallowed by shadow. Those glowlamps were to provide damage control crews with some degree of illumination for many hours without an additional power supply. At seeing them extinguished, Armiena instantly understood that the darkness encroaching upon them was not the natural product of a ship that had lost power, but the arcane manipulations of a Sith, sitting in their lair like some great malevolent spider from old fairy tales, belching out shadows and swallowing up adventurers that had stumbled into her web. Unfortunately for this Sith, it had been decades since Draygo was last frightened by the dark--and even longer since she was afraid of Spiders.

 

Before she could shout out a warning to her Padawan and to Kakuto Ryu, the erstwhile Dark Lord had thrown out something ahead of her and charged. A dazzling flash and a crash of thunder emitted, illuminating the Sith for only an instant before Armiena’s vision was darkened by the flash blindness caused by the grenade. Only a heartbeat behind the berserker, Draygo sprinted to match his advance. Unlike the erstwhile Dark Lord, the veteran Jedi understood that she would have no use for her physical senses and extinguished the turquoise glow of her lightsaber. The rhythmic pounding of her boots against the durasteel deck would be the only warning of her advance--and in a moment, there would not even be that to alert the Spider. Draygo skidded to an almost-halt just as Ryu made a vicious swipe with his lightsaber blade and crouched to all fours on the armored deck. 

 

Calling to the Force, she pounced like an overgrown cat to fly past the wake of the viridian slash as well as its intended target. Much like the panthera that her charge emulated, the veteran Jedi hit the deck hands-first and she rolled to absorb the momentum of her advance. Upon stopping, she wheeled about and let slip the top half of her lightsaber. With a crack of escaping gas like a gunshot, the top half of the hilt launched itself towards the Spider on a wave of compressed gas, connected by the other half only by a delicate strand of liquid cable. It would pass unseen in the gloom to wrap itself around the Spider’s ankles and legs, potentially pitching him to the deck unless evaded.

 

((1))

Edited by ObliviousKnight

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Posted (edited)

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

 

Nothing.

 

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

 

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

 

-----------

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Edited by Mavanger

la5IocX.png

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Vox's smirk faded as he charged forward. He was fast indeed and mustered any strength he had. But such was the tragedy in relying on brute strength in the final blow, and not on patience. The metal boots on the metal flooring was drowned out by the two assailants blades clashing, Vox felt the Black Cloaks blade slid gracefully as she made a slash across his face. His helm did nothing to protect against the hot weapon as it easily sliced through and cut his face. With the weapon so close to his eyes all he could see was a bright orange glow that blinded him. 

 

What was worse off, Vox felt his glaive leave his hand and he couldn't even see to correct that mistake. Where did he go wrong? Pride? Maybe. But it shouldn't have ended this way, he should have- and the doors opened as he fell to one knee, hearing blaster fire by the lot sounding the arena. Vox then felt hands grab him as he heard Equinoxes voice, "We are retreating! That's an order!" 

 

Moments before, the three Trandoshans were rushing back to the main hangar they boarded. They had allowed the two squads they followed to handle the enemy ahead and for the War Pack to head back and support their leader. They didn't hesitate. As they bust through the doors Chaox almost ran into his eldest brothers Puncture blade, and corrected his near mistake by swooping it up. And that's when he- they saw Vox collapse to a kneel. This sparked a sudden fit of rage as he looked to the woman who appeared ready for their arrival. 

 

Wielding both his and Vox's weapons, Chaox fired grenade shit after shot, Rylast getting idea to join in while Equinox scooped up Vox's Spikers and helped his Trandoshan leader to his feet. Putting an arm around the back of his neck, Equinox lead Vox out of harm's way. Looking back he noticed the plasma glaive still on the floor but just as he was about to change course enemies, from behind cover, began firing. He growled, knowing that losing the blade was not something Vox would like, but Equinox knew it'd be a death sentence. 

 

"We are retreating! That's an order!" 

 

Chaox didn't have to argue or agree with that order, he heard it over the comm link, for when he was depleted of his rounds more and more enemies shown up. He knew the War Pack could end them, but not with that harlot standing there smiling. They would meet their demise staying. Following while reloading his own weapon and providing cover fire, Chaox backed into the entrance of the assault shuttle they traveled on, done of the rebel soldiers returning fire as a few climbed on board. 

 

The doors closed and Vox was helped down into a seat. They felt the immediate jerk of the shuttle take off as the thumping of blaster fire ceased. There was an emptiness in his hands, the grasp of his blade loose and completely vacant. Vox should be ashamed... But he didn't. He should have felt defeat and it certainly lingered but what was born from it determination. He should have felt fear, but instead Vox felt relief. The Chieftain battled against an actual Sith and lived, a hard fought battle to add. The burning sensation across his face was painful but he rejoiced in it, it would be the mark of his first battle and never the last one as countless more would be earned. But now he needed to rest, then later, train. 

 

"Vox, can you hear me?" Equinox asked impatiently, "If so, nod your head." 

 

Vox only did that, nod to confirm that he heard his younger brother. He didn't want to speak in the matter would do nothing but curse from the pain the entire way home. Well, whatever their "Home" was. He sighed as the ride went from a vibrating to a smooth one, a jerk here and there as the remaining revel soldiers patched themselves up, not handling the retreat too well. Despite the Trandoshans capable of ripping them in half should they speak out of turn, even they knew it was a death sentence to stay there. 

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

1
 RULE

 

 

Familiarity sank deep into his chest, teasing him to entertain at least a sliver of emotion, but a dejected sense of perfection would not allow himself to surrender to distraction. Kakuto Ryu. He had felt the mimicry in the force, the vocation of a familiar presence from afar, but the treachery of the force had always been unpredictable. And here, the fates conspired to reveal his brother amidst the treasonous Jedi. Such a disgraceful desecration of the Goliath and the Sith as a whole, the paranoia of betrayal chewed at the back of his skull. As the battle for Corellia waged, the echo drew nearer, and nearer still as the boarders resigned themselves to suicide upon entry. Humiliation is what they offered, and for this profound underestimation, they would pay dearly with more than just their lives. 

 

Wide and wild kaleidoscopic eyes pierced the swallowing darkness that hauntingly loomed about the halls. Acrid smoke silently wisped in pours from the walls, from the emptying canisters, and from the Dark King himself as if the world around them was melting. Shadows; they were everywhere, pressing in on them with curious urgency and submerging their most fundamental motor functions into grave uncertainty, pilfering the confidence that the ordinary had within the light. But it was Darkness that had come to greet them now. They were lost. They were alone. And now they would be hunted. 

 

It was not hard to tell when Ryu loosely struck out at empty air; the writing on the wall appeared to be signs of neurosis or he was unsurprisingly inebriated past his limit. Did he have a hand in the downfall of Qaela and Nyrys? Could one sanctified in the blood of the trinity, really become slave to the doctrine of the Jedi? Were the Rebels so unlearned in the ways of war to walk these halls arrogantly, and with numbers such as these against the great fleet? Madness was in abundance, but he would set them straight.

 

The pitch was an easy read, Exodus held his hand toward the hand-munition as it launched and suspended it’s trajectory before the zenith of its arc, prematurely detonating the flash-bang shell. The loud fracture of noise was acutely disorienting for those over the mound at one-hundred and eighty decibels, accompanied simultaneously by a powerfully blinding flash. Built-in photosensors compensated for the direct influx of brilliance, while the noise muffled into a drum versus the helmet that royally curtained the head of the King. The shifting spectacle was aesthetic against the ghoulish shadowcast, but such a flash in the pan would only harm those not strictly prepared to win.     

 

Exodus smiled and prepared himself in stance as Ryu blindly charged forward now. From memory, the old man was sluggish and far from noted form, but as direct as any warrior true to their craze. The Jedi ran with him, deactivating her weapon and thumping forwards as the quick flash returned to lightlessness. The Assassin moved to meet them. The answering war-scream came from every direction at once and from none of them, and not by way of mouth, but by the breaking speed in which he moved. His quickness beckoned the cry of sound. The hungry march from the host of the Goliath amplified the anxiety of the moment, seemingly thousands slamming their feet against steel, chanting war as if ritual. Louder and louder. Were the shadows whispering now?

 

Darkness split open horizontally as Ryu struck out with his blade, unveiling a great leaping Spider looming suddenly before the Warrior, a mighty cadaverous god in midnight-clad, a ghastly revenant spewed from the shadows that stirred at Ryu with impossible speed. His half-twist layout flip was sprightly, graceful in execution as he angled himself mid-air to face the back of Ryu. The enemy blade scorched the air beneath the Assassin just as he launched himself cleanly over and behind broad shoulders, exchanging playing fields with the Jedi on the other end, purposefully keeping the warrior between the two. The Jedi was skidding, would she hit the Warrior? Pointing outward with his left hand before his feet could meet the floor, an unraveling of electricity harvested en-masse down the length of his left arm and shotgunned like a harpoon towards the spine of his brother. The electrifying release of Force Lightning was fired with the aggressive intent to puncture one foe and punch into the other, even if it were impossible. Landing firmly, the quick gathering of magnetism sizzled out into nothingness across his arm and his right hand readied his infamous hilt for battle. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited by Exodus

lyctY3V.png

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

The Force rippled with cold currents as a voice boomed from my perifial, a form stepping into view as his tone echoed of false promises and freedom. Despite the tremble I felt in my form, the urge to run in my head, I stood firm as I glanced at him, our eyes meeting amidst the darkness barely lit by the hue to emergency power. I knew it the moment i laid eye on him what he was, what he stood for, but despite my instinct of flight for survival, I couldn't help but stand frozen at first glance.

 

"You know nothing of me..." I retorted, the shaking of my voice making apparent both my disdain and and uncertainty as I turned inward to focus on my breathing in a hopeful attempt to calm my nerves. "I have walked the darkness you offer and I know its price. I refuse to become a slave to this false freedom you offer without remorse."

 

As I spoke, I turned to fully face the towering man, the light within me beginning to grow as my mind grew calm and serene against my own emotions. Silently in my mind, I counted each breath, letting the thumping of my heart pulse within my form and feeling the blood in my veins warm me. I knew deep down that my worst enemy was myself, especially in a moment such as this. I was unguarded, open for anyone to read. And if this Sith stood like the others of Legend that I had studied, I was vulnerable.

 

"How about we forget your offer, as well as your host, and we both go our separate ways?" I questioned back with a smirk, unsure if he'd actually go for it, but turning my focus more toward my Master's plight from my own vulnerability. "Its the best offer I can present in our current situation."


fdOeNPp.png

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

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."


la5IocX.png

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

"Perhaps you are right." I spoke in return after contemplating his words. It was true that my emotions had long burdened me, fearful of what might happen if I allowed myself to be lost to them, bound and shackled by them. There was truth in his words. "But neither should I allow them to fester and grow. They are but a blight upon the ideology that I cherish wholeheartedly."

 

I could feel the coldness of this man's soul, the emotions that he himself hid so well behind his facade. I was beginning to see the truth of the darkness, the revelation of its core. I could feel it all around me, the pull of it, emotions siphoned from others to empower ones own, false power. And I wanted no part of it. While it may have been true that I only shackled myself by denying myself to feel and know emotion, to allow it to become me and to feed on it would only lead me down a path I could not return from easily. I knew this because of the fateful day i first fell to the darkness as a child and what it rought of me.

 

"You call the life of a Jedi false freedom? What of the Sith? Bound to emotions of your own and others to empower you? Incapable of finding the strength in yourself to persevere and relying on the negatives of others to prosper? There is no freedom in that. Only false hope. An endless life of torment and persecution on others for the sake of yourself, selfish and weak. There is no knowledge of the Force in such a life, only the knowledge of selfishness."

 

I shook my head and gazed at him with pity filled eyes. There was only pain and suffering in his future as long as he stayed on this path, and yet, I knew there was no talking him from it. I could feel the depth it penetrated his being, the void in the Force rippling from his soul. In truth, I felt sorry for the man, lost in his own deprivation. But the time for pleasantries had come to an end. I needed to get to Master Armiena and Ryu. With Ryu in his current condition, especially considering what the Order had done and the permutation of the Darkness that bellowed from this goliath of a ship, his madness could worsen and place her in considerable damage.

 

"I'm afraid we have come to an impasse my friend." I spoke, shifting the weight of my form and drawing my hand to the front, my saber deactivated still. "I ask that you let me pass in peace. If not, then I will have no other alternative." Deep down, I hoped that my bluff would prove successful. If not, I knew that my chances were little. "Please."


fdOeNPp.png

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

The heft of the glaive was unfamiliar to her, but welcomed; although it was neigh useless in her hands. But the weapon she held would make for excellent proof of her victory. The remaining troops gathered, and with scattering light they navigated the darkened halls. Kahla had been ordered to return to her master, and she would do so with pride. The halls felt eerily silent, not but the clunking of boots could be heard. She thought hard on her weariness, she had wandered the dark and empty halls of a derelict vessel before and felt no fear. As her mind drifted from thought to thought she noticed one thing troubling her most. The enemy she faced, he must have been force sensitive. Then why did he restrain from using such power against her? Limiting himself to patronize her? As if he thought himself so capable, he wouldn't need the aid.

 

Her pride slowly turned to anger, that he might have thought so low of her drove her mad. But she had shown him, shown him she wasn't the whelp he thought. She was strong, and growing stronger.

 

Voices down the hall, the troopers quickly hid their lights. The element of surprise was a glorious weapon. The first of the two voices became more familiar as they approached, their steps were silent as a hunter in the forest. The trooper's commander, Kahla's master, was stood in front of a much younger boy. They seemed to be at some sort of stalemate, and Kahla would watch with utmost anticipation.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

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."


la5IocX.png

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

"Anger Leads to..."

Ryu heard the crackle of electricity and saw flashes of light pierce through the dark. Then he felt an impact from behind, followed by the surge of electricity coursing through his body. He was knocked over by the impact, breaking his fall with his skull and sliding for several seconds on built up momentum. His thumb went limp and released the lightsaber's activator, leaving it to go inactive as the hilt fell to the end of the tether that held it to his wrist until came to rest on the floor. Ryu’s consciousness dimmed, and everything faded away.

-----

Standing atop a raised platform, Ryu found himself in a cold, dark Sith temple. Below him was a grand melee with Sith and converted Jedi padawans, each fighting for their life. They were trapped in a ring of slaves standing shoulder to shoulder, weapons drawn to form the outer boundary of the arena.

Among the six fighters one stood out as exceptional, a venomous serpent among cattle. He was a Sith Lord with long stygian black hair and intense emerald eyes. He was youthful and lithe, his skin not yet a record of warfare written in scars as most old Sith tend to become. Watching him fight, the young Lord was at once more relaxed and more ferocious than the others, well acclimated and prepared for these barbaric rituals. He displayed no fear from the others he engaged with, nor satisfaction at their suffering, only unyielding disdain.

Turning, Ryu found two other sith atop the platform with him. One was an apprentice with violet eyes and white hair. He listened intently, enthralled with Ryu and eager to serve. Closer, next to Ryu was a Sith master in a fully enclosed suit of black plate armor. He wore a horned helmet with a white faceplate. An obsidian throne rested directly behind Ryu, close enough that he might have tripped on it. Ryu faced the Armored Sith.

“Dagon…”

Ryu spoke involuntarily, his own voice seemingly coming from inside him and somewhere else.

“I trust you've spent this time forming grand designs. To aid in your conquest, take this apprentice.”

Ryu gestured toward the violet eyed apprentice next to him. His hand seemed to move of its own volition, and it felt like he was trapped in his body as it acted out the scene on its own, no longer able to control himself. A mere spectator watching the scene play out.

“Tethyn will make a powerful alchemist. And take another...”

Ryu looked down and pointed his finger at the formidable Sith Lord in the pit. The circle around their fight was breaking and the survivors of the melee were being dragged away to face new horrors.

“...he has grown much since he was first drug here in that cage…”

As Ryu gazed at the Sith Lord he stared back, his green eyes flashing with intensity and hatred. Reality began to distort and flicker, fading to black. The next words he heard came out garbled like a damaged holotransmission.



“E̸̡̨̛̮͙͎̙̫̫͙̯͓̫̙̯̬͈͌̒͆̿͋̌̎x̸̢͎͙̰̜̗͔̪͇̞͍͌̓̆́̔͂̑̄͌́̈́̓͐|̸̛͖͇͓͎́͌͐̑̀͋̈̏╚̴̨̺̯̗̜̿̒̋̄̅̾̓̚͠♦̷̧̢̰͓͓̪̼̜̜̬͍̰̫̱͍͆̏̀͗̾̅̃̄͒̓̋̕͜͜͜͠$̶̛̰̹̞͍̭̤̘͙͙̺̪͇͓̈̄͂̈́̕ͅ.̸͈̪͎̒͋̾̽̅͂̉̆̈́̌̄͛̆̃̕ “



When the world came back into view Ryu was looking up at the ceiling, his back on the ground as he stared up at the raven haired apprentice. He felt his neck being crushed, the Lord’s foot planted firmly on his windpipe. The Lord looked down at Ryu with a mixture of contempt and smug superiority, his green eyes piercing Ryu to his soul. The slaves that had formed the pit now encircled them, their weapons all pointed at Ryu. They cheered and screamed, getting louder and louder by the second, as Ryu gasped for air, until the sounds of their cries became an indecipherable drumbeat within his mind.

-----


Ryu regained consciousness with his back on the ground, hacking and coughing from the smoke. He stayed low where the smoke would be least dense as he attempted to regain his bearings, making struggling gasps of the  thick black air. His attack had failed spectacularly, and he couldn’t see well enough to anticipate his foe’s dodge, to compensate for his speed, or even evade his counterattack. Ryu frustration was boiling at being helpless to defend himself. The intense panic of being in this trap gave weigh to rage. He was angry he didn’t take the escape pod, angry he had walked into this trap, and angry at the Jedi for hopelessly assaulting this fortress. Most of all, he was angry at the man in the dark for toying with them, hiding in the shadows instead of facing him outright.

I refuse to die here!

Ryu got up slowly, looking around the sightless room. Standing a few meter away he could see the Raven Haired Sith from his nightmare, his green eyes glowing in the murky darkness. It was the only thing he could see, standing firm, his left arm lowering from the lightning attack and his right clutching his lightsaber hilt. Ryu was awake now, though not entirely lucid, and he believed the hallucination at face value.

The Sith Lord that Ryu had seen in his nightmare was indeed in reality, standing right where Ryu saw him. Though his sanity was slipping, in the depths of madness he saw through to a truth.


Ryu reached into his belt and withdrew the second flashbang grenade. He pressed the activator and threw it vaguely in the direction of his Foe, careful not to be so accurate that he exposed himself as being able to see.

“Draygo.”

Ryu reached and grabbed the last of his explosives--two fragmentation grenades--and gripped them both in his palm. He pressed the buttons to start the timer with his thumb, small audible chirps and dim red lights acting as a warning that they were armed. In the next instant, the flash bang went off, releasing a light that barely pierced through the haze and creating a pop which replaced all sound with a horrible ringing, though for Ryu it did nothing to mask the rhythmic deafening roar he now heard constantly..

I won’t let him kill me. Not now. Not here. NEVER!.

He tossed the fragmentation grenades off to his right and began another charge, veering to the left of the hidden Sith’s location, as if he were going to miss entirely.

“You haven’t won this already you skulking cur! You hear me?!”

Just as he reached the closest point of his trajectory, right before his back would become vulnerable to his foe, Ryu turned and exposed his feint, facing the Sith head on and leaping toward him.

"EXODUS!"

He shouted the name he could not understand from the nightmare, as it had unexpectedly come into focus when he reached striking distance from his foe. Ryu activated his green blade mid swing again, bringing the hilt downward for an overhand strike right on top of the Sith’s position.

((2))
_______________________


jFUA2av.jpg


krstorm.gif.a46e550419daa19d41d206a1706d1044.gif

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

His words had became lost upon my deafening ears, my knowledge and disdain of the darkness within myself long have steadied my mind upon staying within the light. To lose oneself within such a place, to try and justify misdeeds, there was no excuse. They were but blight upon the Force, festering and wounding. Even now, I could feel the darkness of his soul trying to snuff away what hope I held as he conversed his attempts to persuade me. And as his Apprentice arrived, it grew clear his intent.

 

"So this was your plan all along?" I questioned, my gaze shifting to this Kahla and the men that followed her before shifting back to the Sith before me. "Debate our different philosophies until your Apprentice arrives with reinforcements?"

 

I smirked. Pathetic.

 

"I wasn't at Dark Sun, but I was at Coruscant, where one of your ilk attempted to destroy the Galaxy's entire ecosystem with one swipe of a moon. It was I, my Master, and numerous other Jedi managed to veer its moon off course and delay the inevitable collision. Did the Sith not revel in joy at the suffering and misery inflicted that day? Where were the Sith then if they are but Free Jedi?"

 

"I cannot excuse some Jedi for their failings no more than you can excuse your own. But I can live up to what and I feel I should be, and my life lays with the Jedi and the Light. I have no intent to harm you or anyone here unless I am left with no other choice. That is who I am, even if i transpire because of it and am but a forgotten soul tomorrow. I care little for power and only raise my blade in defense. That is the Jedi i will be. That is my Order."

 

My gaze shifted from him back to his Apprentice and back to him as i lowered my guard and stood straight. I was done with this debate of philosophies. My Master and Ryu needed my aid, and if this Sith was going to attack, he would have to do it with my back turned. 

 

"If you'll excuse me...." I spoke, granting the two a singular proper bow as I dismissed myself, my gaze never faltering. "I am needed elsewhere."

 

With that, I went to turn and depart.


fdOeNPp.png

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

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))


la5IocX.png

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

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

 

As these words fell upon my ears, the thick cold air began to swirl toward the Sith's direction, a pull upon the Force echoing his actions. And it was in that moment that panic truly began to settle in, my face turning to catch his charge, my face pale against the incoming onslaught. What was I to do now? Could I truly face a Sith opponent in combat? I could feel his rage, his malice intent lingering upon the flow of the Force as the seconds concluded his distance. And by the time I was able to turn and meet him, the first blow was struck.

 

Searing pain met searing flesh as the blade filed a portion of my left shoulder as I attempted to dodge the azure blade, pain that I had never felt before in my life, sending me reeling backwards.

 

It was in this moment, a moment of pain and panic, that time seemed to almost instantly slow to a freeze, reminiscent of someone's life flashing before their eyes just seconds before death. I could feel my instincts urging for control, to take hold and fight back against the momentum of battle. I could feel my heart beat pounding to bust through my chest. And I could hear my mind screaming it's death. I didn't know how to react. I felt defenseless.

 

The second slash was much more shallow, the armor I wore protecting most of my chest against the blade its self as it slid briefly through the metallic form, my chest stinging as the heat melted the flesh beneath, the pain almost unbearable and incapacitating.

 

I could feel myself wanting to give up, wanting to surrender, but my heart and soul would not have it. I could feel the internal struggle of myself waging it's own war within me as the pain and fear only added fuel to the flame. And his gaze, the intent, the devilish stare, the coldness of it. I had never seen such darkness in one's eyes, even on this level of malicious aura. There was no remorse, no pity, only enjoyment. Was this the truth of the Darkside and those who weilded it masterfully? Was this what it meant to be Sith? My mind was settled. I would never give in. I would not become the beast that I saw before me.

 

I felt the pull at my feet, my reeling momentum only adding to the momentum of his attacks. It was almost surreal how quickly he came, how savagely he attacked with feriosity. I haven't even had a chance to gather myself as I felt the cold steel upon my back. It was then that I called upon the Force, the moment I cried for its aid, begging for its salvation. And I felt its answer.

 

My heart beat hastened, the flowing of my blood quickening as oxygen and cells pushed themselves to their limits and beyond, and I felt my muscles contract and expand throughout my youthful form. I rolled backwards against the cold steel floor, guiding myself with my hands against the pain I felt surging against my reactions, and when I felt my feet hit the flooring, I swept my foot outwards and around before lunging myself into the air and placing distance between us as the turquoise hue of my own blade ignited.

 

Despite the fear, despite the pain i felt in my shoulder and chest, despite being out of my element in all senses of the word, I knew this was my unwanted moment. I knew I had to fight one way or the other, no alternatives open for venue. I had to reach Master Armiena and Ryu no matter the cost. Focusing myself, I centered my thoughts upon my breathing, letting it's currents guide me. If this man wanting a fight, he had left me no other choice. Left foot forward, I brought my blade up to guard.

 

((Post 1b, Mordecai vs Genesis))


fdOeNPp.png

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

((2))

Edited by Mavanger

la5IocX.png

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

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

 

Our gazes locked and our stares stern, the Force swirling around us were mixed with emotions and intent. I stood in guard, carefully studying the Sith with my eye as he moved about, my activated blade loosely gripped in my hand. I could feel my fear struggling against my will, the nervousness knotted in the pit of my stomach tightly as I readied for his inevitable next attack. I did not want to fight him in truth, but I had been left little to no choice in such a matter, the frustration apparent upon my face at this notion.

 

But what was I to do? I could vaguely feel Ryu and Master Armiena through the Force, the mixed currents that flowed nearly drowned out by the wounding grasp of the darkness that permeated within the vessel. I felt the urge to reach them, to drive forward and aid them through the veil of Ashla. But all around me, these followers of Bogan, the darkness in their hearts and their devilish intent seeping through the Force ached to foil me, to blind me and cut me off from them.

 

My brow furrowed as his second charge came to fruition, the beat of my heart hastening as the adrenaline within me shifted into overdrive at the sight. I could feel the Force flowing through my form, the permeated darkness cleansed from its currents as it passed through me, increasing my strength and speed just as Armiena had taught me, a beacon of light amidst the torrent of darkness. As he closed the gap, my gaze fell upon the path of his blades, ever attentive upon their shifts in directions in hopes of evading anymore damage.

 

The first of his second barrage, aimed low was classically avoidable, kicking my feet off the ground and pulling myself into a forward flip. But as I landed, I reacted instinctively and quickly turned to face him as the two blades came driving toward my right shoulder, the sudden flinching of my form causing the seared flesh of my left shoulder to ache and slow my momentum as I continued my spin to avoid the second attack, causing me to gasp as I called more of the Force to my aid to compensate. 

 

With a quick twist of my wrist, my saber came up to meet his own during the third and final attack, batting away his own as he attempted to swing it across my chest, one blade completely missing me and the other grazing my right shoulder in the deflect. Pain once again seared my mind as I opened the palm of my left hand and used the Force in an attempt to push him back out of range, causing me to briefly falter in its strength.

 

The pain was excruciating, each movement of my form aching in its wake. And with each attack, I could feel my anger urge to grow, the pain and fear fueling its embers. But my convictions were strong and solid, my mind reeling inward to focus against my own inner darkness. I could feel the negative energy around me, within me, within the others, but this was the moment I had trained for. I had chosen to be a Jedi, to train in their ways and walk their paths. And in that moment, I brought my blade up to the center of my chest and deactivated it, the Force flowing around me intensifying.

 

"I will last..." I finally spoke in return, the panting of my breath heavy against the moment and the pain. "Whether in life or in death."

 

((2))

Edited by Genesis
Forgot to post count

fdOeNPp.png

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

So the gambit had failed and Draygo and the two Sith were exactly where they had started, with the Sith assassin neatly leaping over Ryu to avoid engaging in a melee with the veteran Jedi. All that had changed was the density of the black smoke that continued to seep into the hall and the force of the damnable chanting that continued to pound in her skull. Rather than tangling up the assassin’s legs, the hilt of her double-bladed lightsaber bounced harmlessly along the deck until it reached the extremity of its reservoir, rolling soundlessly from side to side.

 

Draygo detected a buildup of tension within the Force that suggested an imminent attack. A wisp of stinging smoke was the only visible sign of her maneuver as the veteran Jedi stepped to Ryu’s back, left hand lifted to receive whatever was coming. The sickly blue-white glare of Force Lightning illuminated the haze, for the first time making the grim smile and the lightning-scars on the veteran Jedi’s face visible. She sucked up every erg of energy that was channeled her direction, lips twitching from the delicate paroxysms of pain that accompanied the occasional tendril of Lightning that escaped her grasp.

 

And then she held onto it, even though fusillade of malice threatened to burn its way out of her fingers. Draygo held onto the energy even as she stepped over Ryu’s unconscious body, flicking her lightsaber upinto a conservative guard. She held onto it even as she ignited the turquoise blade and made a delicate vertical swipe that threatened to bisect the Sith Assassin from groin to neck--but it was at the very tip of the blade and could have been evaded by taking a single step backwards. She held onto the energy even Ryu unexpectedly rose from his stupor, growled an unheard phrase and let loose with another set of projectile’s. The first must have been another flashbang, judging from the crush of pressure in her deafened ears… but there were still two more projectile’s that the Force warned were still in motion.

 

He didn’t. To loose two fragmentation grenades into an enclosed space that he was within was so reckless that it bordered on suicidal disregard for his own life.

 

But Ryu did just loose two fragmentation grenades within an enclosed space. No cover was to be found. Ryu had to know that he was within the kill radius of his own grenades. Taking a short leap backwards to avoid any counterattack, Draygo gripped the two grenades with the Force and deployed a barrier to flatten the arc of fragmentation. The concussive wave dispersed the foul smoke and vapors that permeated the hall, as well as casting a storm of hundreds of slender steel and plastoid shards that bounced all over the walls, ceiling, and deck, shredding exposed pipes and wiring, the delicate cable that connected the two halves of her lightsaber, the few remaining glowpanels that attempted to penetrate the gloom… as well as the sleeve and muscle on Armiena’s left arm. A searing bolt of pain coursed up the arm and then was silenced, only partly by the intervention of the Force. The lack of sensation was worse than pain--she had just lost use of the arm.

 

There was no time to test what little control she had of the limb. Ryu was up and running, roaring something apparently significant--an oath or a hated name--straight past her to engage the Sith assassin with another crashing blow. Reaching out with the last erg of power that the Sith had gifted her and then some, Draygo ignited the lightsaber hilt that lay abandoned behind him. It levitated at waist-height from the deck and raced through the corridor, blazing a molten line along the wall to perfectly silhouette the Sith assassin. Its owner advanced at a steady stride to meet it, her lightsaber tracing a similar line of superheated durasteel from the other direction.

 

((2))

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

As the tac officers relayed and tallied casualty lists, Godfrey slumped on the railings surrounding his command chair. He took a deep breath of filtered air and sat back, vaguely taking in the long wrinkles on his pale blue uniform. He had nearly been up for thirty six hours and he could feel the crushing tiredness of it beginning to creep in on the corners of his eyes. One of the officers in a matching pale blue uniform gave him a pleasant smile that titched the corners of his heavily waxed moustache. Most everyone on the deck seemed to be smiling, which was distantly odd in its own way. 

 

Thousands, if not tens of thousands of brave men and women had died in the horrible hours of confrontation, and Gofrey did not want to know how the planetary assault had gone. LANDCOM Blue was staying silent, but the grimace on his face as he read his datapad hinted at what Godfrey feared. Had they lost the planet? Godfrey felt a slight pang of terror run through him at the thought but that faded when the redheaded imperial officer gave him a grim smile. 

 

“Land attack fought off commander. Those Mandalorians even bagged themselves a Sith Lord.” 

 

And there it was. He had gambled the Corellian system on a pair of nines and had walked away with the pot. 

 

But such a cost. Such a damn cost, the statistics were still piling up from the starfighter engagements, and though they were a positive tally, it felt like the creme of the rebellion had been cut away. So many thousands. 

 

He nodded to LANDCOM Blue, “Put the Mandalorians in for a Medal of Bravery. Marked from SACCOR.” (Supreme Allied Command, Corellia) He looked back at the datapad then back up. “So many medals for those we lost today. Get me a tally, I will pay for them myself. Understood?” 

 

She saluted and Godfrey looked to his Bothan Assistant. 

 

“Get me Caf for the love of the force, and helm!” The helmsman looked up from his station. “Bring us around for Corellia. SPACECOM triage the active ships to the repair docks, and set us up a perimeter and scanning waves. Medical frigates out for EV pilots and crew.”


GODFREY.png

Rebel Alliance Fleet Command - Godfrey d'Outremer

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

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

 

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

 

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

 

((3))

Edited by Mavanger

la5IocX.png

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

A singular moment in time, for some, could pass in the blink of an eye while lingering eternally for others. For me, this moment was of the latter, lingering just as other moments of this duel had done before it. There is no reason or rhyme as to why, no understanding aside from the divination and growth learnt from it. There is only the moment in time, lingering for its brief but delving length, almost as if time shifts slowly for the moment to be seen clearly.

 

I could feel the Force flowing around me intensely, rigorously flowing against the grasp that tried to dominate its existence to aid me in my moments of need, the wounds of the darkness within it painfully hindering it. And through it, I could feel the dreadful intent mixed, the pain, angst, and hunger corrupting. It felt sad and thick, hauntings of the soul before me plaguing it's natural symbiosis like poison within a river's current, devious and destructive. And despite the anger I felt for the pain inflicted upon my own form, the sadness within my heart that ached for the Force was overwhelming. And in that moment, I understood what it meant to fully commit myself to the path of the Jedi.

 

Like on Coruscant and Borleias, the Sith were a blight upon the Force, leaving behind destruction and devastation, the natural order left wounded and chaotic. As a Jedi, it was my duty to stand against the darkness, to be the beacon of hope and strength for those who could not feel the wounds or see the devastation left in their wake, even in the midst of their justification. It was an easy thing to express excuses for reasons, but harder to admit one's own addition to such chaos. And I too, had added my part to it on Dantooine the day I lost my family. 

 

But now I knew better. I could see both worlds, held knowledge of darkness and light within my own heart. Where the Sith could only see their selfishness and gain, I could see the truth of it, the pain of it, the disorder. As a Jedi, I saw the cancer that was the darkness, even in my own anger, its briefest existence a blight upon my own tranquility. And I could see the lesson that Master Armiena had been so adamant in teaching me during our training. Twice I had slain before, once in anger, and once in defense. But both had left their scars, scars that would sink deeper than any wound the person before me could ever pray to inflict. And in this I found humble solace, if only for this briefest of moments.

 

As the moment progressed forward in time, I knew what I had to do despite the pain it would inflict upon my soul. It was a heavy burden to bear, to raise this blade in my hand and take the life before me. But it was a necessity forced upon me as a Guardian of Light, even if I held no will to do it. And this was the sadness I felt in the Force as his attacks came, the sadness that once had offended it nature and wounded it so deeply that it needed to be cut from its touch surgically, tears dripping down my cheek as the realization was made.

 

As the Force flowed forth feverishly, I let its embrace become guide. My turquoise blade ignited and I turned its blade to meet his own loosely in my hand with my thumb guiding its direction. Sparks and plasma collided and erupted with the first strike, opposing wills meeting for the final moments of battle, each striving for their own justifications. With a quick twist of my wrist, i met his second, using his momentum to follow through and away as I stepped aside, the moment passing in shutters of time like pictures upon the mind. But even in the slowed passage of time, I could not react quicker than my form was allotted and I felt the searing flesh of my thigh the instant his blade grazed it.

 

I had to admit that his feverishly attacks were nearly overwhelming, my the Force was on my side. He was a cancer upon its order, and with its aid, I would cut his touch upon it and cleanse its wounds. I would push myself beyond my limits, whether life or death became the outcome in order to purify his chaos. This was my duty. This was my plight, my cause, my burden. Using the momentum of my reel, i ducked my head from his final attack as I planted my feet against the durasteel floor, grasping my blade with both hands upon its curved form and drove my blade straight up toward his heart, using my feet to shove my momentum forward.

 

Whatever the outcome, no matter which of us was the strongest or quickest, only fate would be the deciding factor. Would the will of the Force be victorious? Or would the cancer spread uncontested? These were the true question to be asked in my final assault. "There is no death, there is the Force."

 

((3 - Great duel brother. Good luck.))


fdOeNPp.png

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

MODERATOR POST:

DUEL BETWEEN GENESIS AND MORDECAI

 

NOW THIS IS PODRACING!!!! Errr . . . Star Wars!!

 

Gentlemen, this duel was so Star Wars it could have been a scene from a movie. Bravo! There was a very Qui-Gon V. Darth Maul feel to it at several points. I hope to duel with each of you in the future. You name the time and place and I’ll be there. I loved this duel.

 

I cannot go through everything line by line, but a few of the items of note in this duel are below.

 

I like to read the posts leading up to a duel to get a feel for the scene. I will admit I was worried about Genesis’ state of mind and being leading into the duel. That being said, you made it work for you throughout the duel. The emotional flux of Genesis and the sway of the force was key through the whole duel. Genesis was able to find his focus and use it.
 

Genesis exuded the ideals of the ideal Jedi. The pull of darkness, the temptation, and the committal to that which is right. Genesis is a man of peace, but willing to wade through the muck of battle for the good of others.

 

Mordecai’s skills and abilities remained true to his character sheet. He is a blade master and makes use of that, not trying a shotgun approach at anything a Sith might use. Classic movie-worthy dealing. Beautiful moves and an attitude worthy a Sith lord. Trying to convert before moving to violence was awesome. It defied the stereotype of a Sith, while you also acknowledged it.

 

I noticed a few spelling and grammatical errors in posts. Capitalizations, the use of apostrophes, and forgotten words can change sentences and make lines hard to read. They are all simple enough to correct. I know that I am guilty of these things at times too.

 

This leads into my next point, apparently Mordecai’s blade “filed” Genesis’ shoulder? Is that supposed to be filleted or something else?

 

Genesis took a large amount of brutal damage right off the bat and continued to take more as the battle wore on. Even glancing blows with a lightsaber can be horrendous. The things can melt through armor and cleave through flesh like a hot ball bearing in a tub of lard. There is a reason that in a galaxy of technology and guns, that the zealots of the galaxy carry laser swords and are feared and respected for their use. Mordecai did not take any damage. This was not because he dodged or expertly blocked, in fact; Mordecai took the one offensive move towards him in turn. This was a duel after all. The philosophical musings were great, but without force application into action or even straight action defensive or offensive, it is hard to call it a duel.

 

I was really worried when Genesis deactivated his saber mid battle. The next post had, what I think, was the highest point of the battle. When Genesis, full of the force, reactivated his saber and defended himself. That was a great chunk of writing! Driving forward in an attempted final blow was beautiful too. I wish we could have seen that sooner. That level of dedication and zeal could have turned the tides and if this duel went another three rounds I think it would be an entirely different ballgame.

 

A Sith Lord against a Jedi Apprentice and the apprentice is cut up right from the get go. Even so, the Jedi came back swinging in the final round. 
 

Considering it all, there can only be one winner in this duel as it stands. The winner is MORDECAI and the next post goes to MAVANGER. Congratulations! Don’t forget that Genesis is trying to skewer Mordecai as his final act in the duel.

 

You both did a good job and should be proud of what you created.

 

  • Like 1

leena.png.8f66f2082d00bccf4a52c55c5235798f.png

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

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."


la5IocX.png

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Like the winds of a storm the Force was turbulent in the air. Kahla could feel the great conflict both physically, and internally. Her master's strength seemed almost wasted in this duel. Was this the power her preached? Picking on lesser foes? Perhaps not. She thought back to her own training, only very recently did she undergo a very similar show. It was hard for her to forget the taste of Korriban's soil. She could feel Mordicai's emotions leveling out as he sheathed his sabers. As the duel had gone on, her own had mellowed out, and for a brief time there was a calm in the combat. Watching the Sith Lord continue to pummel away at the Jedi without mercy, without retort.

 

She nodded to the troopers. "Get him in cuffs and ready for transport." Two of them made their way over, and with shackles placed, the Jedi was under Kahla's custody. She could sense his struggle, the fight he still had in him.

 

The battle still raged on however, though no one in this room would participate. The elegance of the light clashing with the fury of the darkness, victory was not yet secured. Kahla would have the chance to see the outcome of the battle, as she gathered the remaining troops and followed her master proudly. Remaining mostly silent, she knew he could feel her pride both in her victory and his. There was no doubt left in her mind, he would be the one to lead her to the power she yearned for.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

2
 RULE

Force Vision / Mind Games
Force Sense / Fear Scent

Blade Corruption
Niman / Body

Boom

 


Inside the kill radius.

 

As the electric cannon punched into the pair with an extremely acute thrashing of raw energy, the Jedi measured her blade against the heavy-handed impact, while the former Sith blunderously ate the unnatural ionic heave skin-first, chaining the phenomena between the two by proximity. The traitor reeled into a collapse and Exodus moved his feet forward to crush what was left of his spine, if he indeed still had one. Dathomiri witches spoke of death and the finer things, and were convinced that wearing your enemy's bones as fashion, would forever ward one from duplicitous creatures. Testing the truth of this had never been more tempting. As the Dark King stepped into play, tantalizingly slow and as measured as a looming predator over prey, blind courage interrupted the reunion. The woman that Ryu had arrived with, juggled a show of resilience and balanced the foreign weight of the force against her physical body, before stepping over the downed corpse in conservative guard while defiantly slashing ahead of her territory. "Aaaah, like one of their own. This was not love, was it?" The thought gnawed at him, striking a curiosity that bothered him more than the absence of an answer to why they were here in the first place. 

 

Exodus delayed the opportunity to kill and retreated in step, not with a single, but rather a gathered leap in the opposite direction. She protected him as if he was her own, and if she had leaned into her aggressive nature without restraint, the blow might've scored her a slice of flesh. "Still, unlikely," he thought dismissively. The assassin landed quite some feet away, composed into footwork of form VI as a practiced discipline, anticipating their angles of attack while eyeing the two with a sight that rendered night into day. Kakuto was slow to rise, distracted in his advances, distracted in how foolishly he had entered into the fray, was his mind truly lost to madness? Had the Jedi deceitfully led him to slaughter, and turned him into a doltish marionette for their games? He wished for Kakuto Ryu to hear these whispers, in fact he willed it. Urgently, as if it were the stone walkways inside the Gala Temple on their first raid, Exodus began to kindle a telepathic language to access the Trinity bond that the Warrior and the Assassin had once shared; the sentient breath or connection that echoed louder since the beginning of this war over Corellia. Exodus knew his brother could feel them too, hearing the echoes just as they were for him, just as they were when they had conquered entire worlds. The drums of the Goliath only made it worse, the battle revelry, the roars of ecstasy that war-drunk creatures stampeded with would do well to remind the once Warrior-King. To bathe his tormented mind into surrendering to the memories that seemed suppressed. 

 

Kakuto Ryu had returned to his feet, and loosely let out a name familiar to books of record. "Draygo." 

 

 

Exodus approached the elevation of battle with his chin raised and his eyes fixed on the middle distance now. His opponents were without chemistry; their coordination was threadbare, muddied by a lack of visibility and inexperience, which was endorsed by the aimless brutality of the warrior. A fighter starved of his physique and his wits. They had breached the most valuable warship in this forward fleet, but came alone and without preparation. It began to show as the seams came undone, and their impaired gambles hinted at a true lack of purpose. Swelling ignorance to think that a few would wander into a lair of wolves as nothing more than flesh, and hope to part as whole. It was the incessant ignorance of Jedi, a plague upon the force.

 

A second flash-bang detonated in short proximity, detrimental to the unaided in such confines but dissipating harmlessly once more against the photosensors and proofing of his full helm that hid his true identity. Exodus' face beneath remained cold and far removed of emotion, as though daring the congregation to look his way and feel the chill. His dark hair trailed behind him artfully, and his features remained a sharp caricature of totemic wolf-breeds carved upon black-steel, a fanged nightmare to his foes. He bore all the hallmarks; imposing, inhumanly perfect features built on a grander scale than those of the mortal creature– but his unblinking eyes were dark with secrets. It was as though, in him, the dream of the Dark Council from past eras were a failure as they overlooked the serpentine apprentice beneath their watch, passing him off as a mere dog of war to be tamed by the enchanting Master Alora. None of them respected her in same manner that the young Malacoda Syn did, understanding that her power was nested in the shadows, shadows that those warmongers could never see nor read. Her discretion and her power over their flesh was far more commanding than those that boastfully killed for murder count. And it was Lady Alora, and only she, that had the patience to evoke an absolute nightmare seemingly unmarred by the rampant corruption of the Dark Side, a true King of the Sith.

 

Exodus angled his ancient blade in front of him, unlit in an opening Niman stance, wired in anticipation as he watched them acutely through heavy darkness. He could not yet understand their keen resistance to such powerful concussive blasts, but he would peel back the layers of their eyes to see for himself. Ryu had more toys to throw however, evidenced by the audible tells of the primed hand-helds. Exodus quickly shifted his weight and his armour trailed with obsidian robes that whipped up dust as they hissed over metal plating. 

 

“You haven’t won this already you skulking cur! You hear me?!”

Kakuto wailed.
Fear-scent. The Dark King distinguished the smell of it, even as it came out in words alone.
This was a haunting.
 


Malacoda could scent it anywhere. His brother carried it with him, it was like the rancid stench of an unkempt charnel-house; a breath that betrayed presence, a vile reek carried through the halls. His body was his temple, and the temple of Kakuto Ryu was diseased with languor and uncleanliness. As he spoke, his decaying became obvious. Anzanti wielded senses far superior to most humanoids, and with the squeezing of the force, his senses were supreme. It was like old blood griming through already-blackened teeth; a rot that fumed from Ryu like a beacon, supernatural faculties were not necessary to see this. From where did they retrieve the old Master of Warriors? With eyes blacker than the voids between the stars and just as pitiless. Pallid skin smeared with loose skin and malnutrition; oily hair plastered to gaunt cheeks and narrow shoulders. Imprisonment, perhaps they had broken him after all. Exodus did not need to see him to know who it was that haunted him, but now it would be the Spider that pursued him through the endless shadows as tirelessly as the night wind.

 

Two more grenades flew, detonating with explosions vastly different than the concussive blasts. Exodus braced with the backing of his stance, shielding his face with the wide-breadth of his forearm, missing just when the Jedi had suppressed the effectiveness of the blast. Draygo was spending energy to keep them from killing themselves, affirmation of their disorganization. A hailstorm of shrapnel scattered across an open and enclosed space with deadly force– tink, tink, tink, tink. The fragments of metal punched into all, blacking the emergency glowlights, carving into piping, and tearing into structural integrity of the room. The adorned armor-plates weren’t enough to completely excuse damage to the King or the blow-back of pressure, the metal bit cleanly through at random, or embedded itself into the body of the exotic steel. Fascinating pangs of sensation riddled his body, from his forearm to his abdomen, and down his leg as he slid backwards. Blood made him smile.

 

The blast cleared the expansive gloom for the moment, but darker the room was without power and without a shred of light. Just then the screeching boil of a lightsaber dragged across a metal wall, lighting the room poorly as Exodus returned his same forearm to the opening stance of Niman and saw as plainly as day, the unified stampede of both Jedi and Sith, charging nearly blind in his direction. “Disgusting.” Exodus nearly spit the words. The skeletal chassis of the Dark King simmered with power, canalizing raw force through his flesh. Aggravation began to rise in him, feeding him as he watched the blatant defilement of a Sith champion skittering across the decking like a loosened rat. Draygo too, wordlessly simulating such aversion as if it were commonplace. Was she unaware of the demon that she kept under foot? She was Oblivious. This was her brothers’ keeper, the King of such Devils.

 

The dark crystal sparked, and his weapon manifested. The sickening hum of the blade cracked into existence, dripping with heat and hate simultaneously. A deep and drowned crimson, with halcyonic black veins seemingly etched throughout the long length of it, darkening the weapon uniquely. They could not see it, but as the weapon unraveled, the blood vessels inside of his hand swelled with overwhelming vigor, charting an engorged mapping of veins directly through his arm and hand, to the hilt of the legendary lightsaber. The woeful beam of power spun in his hand reflexively as Kakuto ran by, just outside of range, headed towards nothing and no one. 

 

 

"EXODUS!"
Kakuto shouted the name he could not understand from the nightmare, 
The name of his dream walker.
 

 

 

Ryu blew his feint with his shout and turned to cleave an overhand strike through his brother. The Way of the Rancor established both a low and high guard, and transition between the two from an opening stance was as smooth as butter. Exodus tensed and brandished his famished blade high to meet the downward strike, while tracking the closing distance of the Jedi. This was done by the increasing pang of her steps, and the runaway blade that drew nearer. Efficiency was most paramount, and a misstep would be costly as three slants of attack now converged on the Spider. Deceptively, the unnatural power of Ryu hammered down beyond anticipation, much heavier of a wild force than he could recall in any creature he had killed in recent time. Exodus shouldered the burden, ethnological strength coupled with a burgeoning energy was more than enough to hold the rawboned warrior. But there was more, something inside of him that vacuumed an intangible might. The high-guard held as he drew his brother closer, considering his face for a small moment, between the burning palette of fiery red and nauseating green. “Ohhh, how I will break you before I free you.”

 

 

“That is...

King Exodus,

brother.” 

 

 

The words crawled out as a daring whisper, as if all else in the moment paused with held breath to witness his address. Such conceited stress on his sovereign name, and such malice hidden in the title of endearment he gave. As both brands rolled off of his tongue like dripping poison, the world around them cracked. When the Jedi came within feet of her final approach, Exodus roared with a power to shake the Goliath whole. An exceedingly powerful telekinetic Force explosion detonated from the body of the King, supremely evolved from any application of a traditional push. Violently the force dragooned outwards, constructing rapidly-expanding kinetic ricochets in such a small space, instantly flinging anything near him away at terminal velocity. The repulse was so violent and extreme that it threatened to disintegrate his foes in a blast of strenuous pressure; a dreadful conjuring of force repulsion unlike anything this vessel had ever felt, buckling the whining infrastructure around them. 
 


lyctY3V.png

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

And so the cancer would remain, the tumor unable to be cut away from upon the Force's will. I had lost, the first of my encounters with the Sith first hand as my blade grazed his form but did little damage. As I felt my momentum hinder, his use of it against me, I knew in my heart that I had failed to truly answer the call I had been tasked with. And as my form fell upon the permeated cold floor, my blade sliding away in deactivation, I knew my failure truly.

 

Exhaustive pants were the only warmth the floor experienced as I struggled to rise, feeling his dark form eclipse what little light remained in the darkened corridor as he stepped over me. And in the moment, I awaited what I felt was inevitable death at his hands, turning over to face the victor with disdain. I had lost, this much was true, but I held no doubt that my actions had been in vain. 

 

"Strike me down now, Sith". I spoke, unable to grasp the moment fully as I reeled against both pain and my loss, only hearing the echoes of his words. "I will never join you, no matter how many times you break me."

 

And yet, instead, I heard his call to his Apprentice and heard the revelation of cuffs and chain. Lowering my head in brief disbelief, I felt the coldness of the cuffs as they were locked around my wrists and I was bound. So I was to be a prisoner then? Gazing up, I wondered if the powerfully dark aura emanating from above would be the deciding factor in my fate, or if he truly felt the urge to attempt to break me and persuade me to his side. I could not truly gauge the moment.

 

In that moment, all I could process was my capture, and what it would mean for Master Armiena considering what she spoke of before and her last Padawan. In that moment, all I could hope for was her to remain in the light and leave me to my fate. Pain can be a very driving argument of the Darkness.


fdOeNPp.png

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

×
×
  • Create New...