Nar Shaddaa - Rebel Alliance Headquarters

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

As the shuttle entered the atmosphere, it continued to rock backwards and forwards as the gravitational forces worked against the damaged and disabled ship. Grabbing a hold of a seat, Akheron used the force to try and aid with some of the stabilization but found it did very little so stopped. Instead he trusted the pilot to act as necessary and bring them safely as he could to a stop below. 

 

Several Linnorms vomited, coating the floor in a sticky mess, which Akheron attempted to avoid stepping into. Grabbing a tight hold, Akheron went to the cockpit and assisted the pilot as best he could with bringing the ship down, hoping to avoid a unnecessary demise before they even made a kill. Spiralling down, the shuttle received several shots from anti air defenses only further adding to the troubled state of the craft. Yet Akheron placed his trust in a higher power.

 

He focused in the Darkness of the force and yanked the yolk. The ship soon stabilised as best it was able before getting closer to the ground. He saw a landing as in the view screen and saw his best bet. Aiming for the pad, the ship rattled and spluttered against the unstable and unnatural angles being performed before finally the inevitable happened.

 

The shuttle crashed with a mighty bang into the ground before plowing into a group of civilians who were standing near what appeared to be a Imperial Knight (Aiden Darkfire) and finally careening into the shuttle already situated upon the platform in a mangled mess of metal, bodies and flaming wreckage.

 

Yet for the most part Akheron himself was unscathed, save for a few scratches and a bump on the head. He thanked the Fanged God for his mercy before advancing as best he could towards the back, the pilot was dead, flung through the front and into snagged metal pole. Making his way, he noted several of the Linnorms had met similarly grim fates, but he had little time to check further, they were after all in enemy territory.

 

Grabbing what equipment he had secured to himself, including his lightsaber, Akheron made for what remained of the ramp. But not before quickly checking to see where his apprentice, Solus was and his beast the Tuk'ata Tear. He couldn't tell, but in the force he knew he was at least alive. 

 

On that notion, he exited through a hole, a tight squeeze for his frame but he managed. And then he saw the Imperial Knight again, this time much closer. He could feel the Light from him, detestable as it was. A candle soon to be snuffed out and yet perhaps he could be persuaded to convert. There was only one way to find out.

 

Approaching cautiously from a distance, standing far enough that he wouldn't be in range of a sneak attack, Akheron spoke. His mask concealing everything save for his piercing completely yellow eyes and where some skin showed the crimson red of his species. Especially upon his organic and starkiller like left arm, with fingers that were very much like that of Freddy Krueger, razor sharp with metal imbued with that of Sith Magic, melding bone, flesh and metal together. 

 

"Greetings, Imperial Knight. I am Darth Akheron, One of the Lord-Captain's of the Clan Brasganu nomad fleet, the House Of Dragons. Sith Warrior and Lord Of Wrath and Rage. Who might you be who stands before me, looking at me as if I were some monster. The Bothans appear to have arranged for our meeting, as unplanned as it is. Or was it...no I think not. There are no coincidences as you likely know. Not where the force is concerned. 

 

Perhaps the Fanged God and the Darkness has another plan for you just as they have for me. We shall see. If you wish to live beyond today I suggest you listen closely young Imperial Knight. This planet and those upon it are doomed, surely you can see that. They chose this fate just as we chose ours, the choices made by your allies, the Alliance and their Jedi puppets, who foolishly serve the Light, as weak and ineffective as it is lead to this moment, to their demise. They will pay the price for Korriban and others. The Light is fading in the galaxy, surely you can see that, it has had it's day... it's time for the Darkness provided by the Fanged God to take the reigns.

 

You have a Darkness within you waiting to be released. Why not let it out, why resist what you are? Become your true self. I offer a choice. A proposal if you will, join Clan Brasganu, the House Of Dragons and be redeemed. Refuse and be cast into oblivion, purged from the galaxy and your soul devoured by the Fanged God and the Darkness as is the fate of the weak minded, those who cast aside the truth of the galaxy. Cast aside like the Alliance and the Jedi, their souls tainted and equally devoured, all their sins laid bare. 

 

What is your choice young Imperial Knight? What fate do you choose for you and those others around us here. I would choose wisely."

 

Akheron awaited a answer, his saber in one hand ready to be ignited should he refuse his generous proposal. For a refusal was never to be taken lightly, it would be met with the full fury of the Sith Warrior, for denying the Darkness and the Fanged God was to be condemned to the fangs. Their soul eaten and lost to the void.

 

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

Akheron couldn't help but laugh beneath his mask, loud enough that the young Imperial Knight before him could hear. How naive were his thoughts and how little he knew or so the Sith Warrior believed. As with many Jedi and those affiliated with them he spouted the same hypocritical nonsense, accusing him and the Sith with a barbed tongue, like venom from a viper.

 

As the Imperial approached, Akheron instinctively held his saber in his right hand, ready to pounce should he advance further. He wasn't fearful, it was more caution. He sensed out in the force trying to get a feeling for his would be opponent if he continued to resist and persist with a accusing finger.

 

"That's far enough. You know that is funny coming from a Jedi outcast and that you think there is a choice. There is never a choice just the illusion of it. You have no idea how hypocritical you sound. Your hands and those of the Jedi and your allies are hardly clean, the blood of many coats your hands too, it cannot be denied. An eye for an eye Imperial... this is not murder, it is justice and equal vengeance. No-one is innocent. We do not forgive or forget, not like you. This is the price paid, a blood debt for the blood your kind and the Jedi have spilt for decades. Ziost will be avenged, Kuat will be avenged...need I continue the list. The Fanged God will have his due and this planet shall be purged, forfeiting the souls of the condemned to be devoured. You cannot stop the tied of Darkness young Imperial Knight, you cannot escape fate. 

 

You insult a path of learning with no understanding. One must first be broken if they are to remade, stronger, capable of surviving a unforgiving galaxy. While you reject the outcasts, those refused by society we welcome them. While you refuse knowledge of how to bring life from death, we welcome it. To face the deepest Darkness in the void and become one with it. Only the strong survive, this is the eternal law of the universe and we accept that as part of us. Accept that and there is redemption for you also, refuse and there is no return. Yet I also wonder, what will happen. Regardless of this it appears unlikely we shall agree, thus the dice have already been cast, the bell rung.

 

I can see it in your eyes, sense it within you...you will never accept the truth I speak. A pity, but fear not even in death your soul will not go unwasted. Krath Inmortos would love a soul such as yours. A memento of this world from a friend and I will at least honour you with a quick death if you prove worthy of such. Come, let us see who shall survive this night, who will succumb first. The Light or the Darkness. I allow you the honour of first strike young Imperial Knight, let us see who's soul shall feed the Fanged God."

 

Igniting his saber, Akheron knew it had begun. 

 

((First post goes to you Aiden))

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

((1))

 

The final words had been spoken and the Sith Warrior saw no further need to embellish or talk further, they both had passed that point of diplomacy. Only battle was to be had now. The Sith sighed as he stepped into position, it was a shame the Imperial Knight was so short sighted, at least he thought so, yet he would not be wasted, he would make a fine offering to the Fanged God and to the Darkness.

 

As Aiden made his first steps, Akheron stepped forwards defensively, his lightsaber held in his right hand at a reverse grip. As the young Imperial Knight before him headed into a sprint, the Sith Warrior focused within the Dark side of the Force, drawing upon his own dark thoughts to access the deepest parts where the Light could never penetrate and where compassion and mercy was nowhere to be found. What emerged was something deadly and sinister, something truly monstrous.

 

There was soon no emotion, no warmth...just a being of cold, where nothing or no-one could reach the man that once was and had been just moments ago. This was soon echoed in the very atmosphere around as where he stood dropped to freezing and ice begun to form along the ground into treacherous patches of frozen tundra. Akheron was now a being devoid of anything save a heartless calculus and a cold objectivity towards one purpose. Such was the state he had entered within his mind, such was the mental state of the Cold Mind where a warrior such as himself traded his emotions for fortitude in internal distance, hardening his or her heart against loss and forgoing the usual emotional inferno of the Sith psyche. Akheron begun moving with the mechanical efficiency associated with this particular mind state. And all was so he would hopefully bring his opponent to his doom.  

 

At first taken a little by surprise by his opponent's unorthodox approach, Akheron brought his saber up, managing barely to deflect the first strike, narrowly avoiding the second but receiving the third across his left arm as he turned, bouncing off one of the Force Barriers his enemy had dispersed in front of him, and sending him backwards slightly, forcing him adjust his footing to compensate. The strike sent a shot of pain upwards but the Sith Warrior simply shrugged it off, his current mind state numbing him to the sensations, he used them instead to further feed and fuel his focus within the Dark. Intensifying his calculating and mechanised approach.

 

Adapting quickly, Akheron likewise circled his opponent as he batted away the final strike, again bouncing off a invisible barrier. A smile gripped his lip, his eyes stared intently at Aiden, now black as midnight as the Darkness took full hold, icey and transfixed as if staring into his very soul, or through it. It was difficult to ascertain which.

 

Within moments he issued his counter offense.

 

Switching his saber to be other hand, his left one with razor fingers, Akheron made his advance, this time with caution, knowing his opponent was not to be underestimated...he would not repeat his first mistake. Indeed now he has a vague idea of the measure of the man before him. For he knew the truth of every Warrior. You did not truly know someone until you fought them. The Imperial Knight had made his introduction, now the Sith Warrior would make his. Entering a brief run, he stopped just before Aiden and struck his free hand into the ground with a Force enhanced blow, sending a trembling wave of dirt and debris forwards before him, uprooting any all in the way along it's path as the earth was shattered beneath it (Tremor Impact). The ripples forwards after the initial strike, acted like a tsunami of death that was aimed at interfering with the footing of Akheron's adversary.

 

To set him up as he would unleash a torrent of pain in the form of four short ranged telekinetic grapples aimed at bring this opponent either down or within range of his lightsaber. Known as Chwit’Jen’Itsu by any Sith Warrior familiar with the techique, they were composed of rapid joint hyperextension and lightning fast TK throws, ones that took advantage of his opponent's potential mental vulnerabilities, extreme pain and overextension of their own efforts. He hoped it was the case here that his opponent, one who appeared worthy despite his youth, had overextended his use when erecting the Force Barriers, and he had opened himself to attack by it.  

 

 

((Just to clarify for the Moderators and yourself. Akheron is currently using the Cold Mind state, in combination with the Tremor Impact as written in the Sith Warrior guide to hopefully perform a series of four TK type grapples/throws in the form of the Chwit’Jen’Itsu ability and make Aiden more vulnerable to saber strikes. ))

 

Edited April 16, 2022 by Karys Narat iv-Adas

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

((2))

 

His attempted strike was in part successful, illeciting a slight smirk as the Sith Warrior delighted in catching his prey. The thrill of the battle was like a drug that could not be easily sated by Darth Akheron, it was where he found his purpose and calling in life. Like a sweet nectar it enthralled and called to him, here he was in his element. The Imperial Knight was on the operating table and Akheron was the surgeon.

 

And yet despite his success it was not to last. As Akheron plunged his lightsaber into his opponent's side he felt a twinge in the force, a feeling that let him know to prepare for a incoming strike, and strike it did. Flying backwards from the violence of the unexpected Force blast, the Sith Warrior was sent into a spiral in mid air before coming to a stop, impacting violently with a sickening crunch against the side of one of the damaged and burning shuttles. 

 

Just like his opponent, he too had suffered from the impact. His lungs struggled for breath and when he did he found only pain with each breath he took. Feeling his side, he felt the source, prodding his sides, at least two broken ribs and one fractured along his left side. Internal only it appeared but a unwanted irritation, one easily remedied by a Sith Warrior such as he was. Focusing the Darkness he called forth the chilling numbness of ice that was drawn from the wellspring of the Cold Mind, focusing the energy he enveloped and numbed his senses and pain receptors, bathing them in a chilling agony and dulling the pain. At least temporarily. Any blood seeping out would soon clot with a icey rime that would leave massive scarring, but he didn't care. It was a small price to pay for his survival.

 

He would make the Imperial Knight pay for that. 

 

Struggling at first, he stood up to see his opponent likewise rising from where he had come to rest. Locking eyes, Akheron noted that his enemy appeared to be attempting to employ the same unorthodox approach he had used from when they had first begun their bout. Smiling beneath the mask, he found it a foolish notion...thinking that a Sith Warrior would fall for the same trick twice, no he would not be so easily fooled. Not like a some meager apprentice or young Lord who had not seen battle. He learnt from every mistake and grew stronger because of them. 

 

As Aiden made his advance, Akheron feigned falling into the trap. As the first strike came, he at the last moment, used the force to propel himself upwards and twist around, using a Force Jump to attempt to go over and above, slashing his saber towards Aiden's back and hoping to land behind his opponent for another lightsaber strike horizontal across the back of the Imperial Knight's knees. He would attempt to continue the barrage with a series of progressively heavier and harder strikes starting with four initially.

 

Strikes empowered by his Rage and frustration, his Wrath. The intensity would increase the longer that it went on, so long as his target remained not dead, a self sustaining loop of attacks fueled by Akheron's emotions of the previous strikes failing to be lethal would be created. A series of strikes that to his opponent would look like a series of hacking attacks where form was sacrificed for power. A fact which was a lie. Each strike carried a preternatural momentum and force, with each successive blow striking heavier than the last. He would punish his opponent and show him the fury of the Sith.

 

((Initially used The Indifference of Titans as written in the Sith Warrior guide, then a Force Jump/Slash to the back and the knees hopefully to continue with a Sawblade Strike.))

Edited April 16, 2022 by Karys Narat iv-Adas

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

((3))

 

Akheron observed and took note, cautiously as he made his advance. The heavy blows appeared to be driving his opponent back, a fact that excited the Sith Warrior as he found success. Defending himself against the counter attack and ducking below the debris, deflecting it into smaller chunks away from his face as Aiden flung it towards him, Akheron continued his assault regardless, ignoring the pain he felt in his ribs and his left arm. Instead he used it to fuel himself, fuel his desire and Rage to take the Imperial Knight out and feed the fangs of Darkness. His opponent for the moment was on the retreat, but he knew better than to trust the situation.

 

His opponent was smart and cunning. Throughout their bout he had come to somewhat admire his enemy. He respected his skill and defiance, his unorthodox approach, even if it would not save his soul from damnation in the end. His soul would be devoured as with all by the Fanged God. Using his experience wrought of a long life and many lessons, Akheron decided upon a strategy.

 

He knew both were getting exhausted, it was time to end the charade. Time to end his opponent or have his own life taken. It would be down to the next few moments, that much he knew. He could feel it. Gripping his lightsaber with his right hand, he looked at Aiden directly in the eyes as he stepped forwards, focused his senses.

 

Moving in the blink of a eye he confronted the first strike, judging the timing of the movement, and trusting his reflexes, now he had adjusted to the unorthodox strikes. Deflecting the second strike, but catching it across his faceplate, leaving a scar across his right eye, and adding further pain, he noted some hesitation from his opponent, like he was holding back. His intuition turned out to be correct when he saw the second lightsaber ignite and attempt to drive into him on the follow through. Using the Force he rolled backwards and off to the right side slightly, utilising a combat roll and hopefully coming up beyond the range of the lightsaber. Again he allowed his free hand to touch the ground as he rose up, and send death outwards in it's wake. A Force enhanced strike into the ground that would shatter the earth beneath their feet and interfere with his opponent's footing as debris and dirt were ripped free, like spikes of malice sticking out at jagged angles from the once flat earth beneath. Or so was the intended goal.

 

A setup for something more lethal, the endgame of his deadly strategy.

 

Utilising the Juyo lightsaber form of combat, as he had throughout the duel, Akheron struck with his full fury. Maintaining the outer calm associated with the form, yet with a intense internal pressure, he struck. Unleashing his full ferocity and aggression in a series of erratic and unpredictable strikes aided by the Force. Aimed for a single purpose, to take the life from his adversary.

 

Using the Force in the form of Force Speed, Akheron increased his speed, focusing his remaining energy to slow down his perception of the world and make himself a blur to observers as he was granted the ability to see the world and the entities around in slow motion. To anyone around not sensitive to the force, it would be like seeing a blur flash before the eyes. Striking four blows in a continuous barrage, Akheron aimed the first two to deflect and redirect the initial blows, a attempt to divert attention away from his true target. The third was aimed at the wound in his opponent's side, to drive deeply inwards and upwards and hopefully impale hiim before he would try to drive his lightsaber up his spine, severing it from his nervous system, and cutting outwards through the shoulder diagonally.

 

He hoped it was successful. It was a risky manuever he knew, and he risked more injury himself, but what was combat without risk. And he was willing to pay the price for victory. Either he would be successful and live another day of his opponent would. Either way the Fanged God and the Darkness would have their soul. A worthy sacrifice no matter the outcome. He was more than willing to sacrifice himself for his cause, yet he wondered was the Imperial Knight just as devoted. How far was he willing to go, he was about to find out.

 

((Utilised Force Speed to attempt to avoid the the third strike Aiden is attempting and potentially avoid the igniting second lightsaber. Followed through with another Tremor Impact to setup a Force Speed enhanced barrage of four strikes, two of which are deflections/redirects with the third aimed at potentially impaling deep into Aiden's wound in his left side and drive upwards along the spine out the shoulder.))

 

 

 

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

Akheron smiled under his mask as he made his attempt and yet his positive disposition soon changed. The young Imperial Knight started to gain the upper hand, as both opponent's engaged, saber meeting saber in equal measure before all he felt was more pain as he was impaled in the side, searing a long line of cauterized flesh. Moments later and a explosion occurred, disengaging he stepped back as debris and molten slab rained down to seperate the two just as he thought he was about to finish his enemy.

 

It appeared the Fanged God had other plans for the two, or so the Sith Warrior thought as he found he could not reach his adversary in the aftermath. Instead Akheron, with a look of disappointment upon his face found that he could not and would be unable to finish the bout, one which had tested his abilities, was forced to tactically retreat as he, despite his immense pain dodged and weaved the opposite direction to the Imperial Knight attempting to avoid the rain of hellfire tungsten and shuttle debris. Clear at last, he wondered what the future might hold. He hoped they would meet again to end what had been started, for his adversary had been a worthy one despite his age.

 

Until then, he sensed out in the Force, finding easily the necromancer, Krath Inmortos although something was wrong. His apprentice was barely felt, although he could feel something of a slight glimmer that he was still in the realm of mortals. Moving towards the direction he felt them, he traversed the danger area carefully and cautiously, wincing when he moved on account of his wounds. They would be dealt with soon enough, until then he would endure. 

 

Finally approaching, he noted Solus was nowhere to be seen, although his bound Tear was present. He had a feeling, his apprentice had faired equally as himself in combat, if not worse. Or he would be standing beside the necromancer. Speaking, he looked at Inmortos while clutching his ribs, trying to soothe some of pain as he applied a temporary bacta patch. Not that it would do much, but it would suffice until on the flagship.

 

 "Greetings brother Inmortos. I see you decided to join the fun, I came close to ending a young Imperial Knight, a soul you would have loved, however he proved a far more worthy adversary than I gave him credit for. And the Fanged God deemed he would live another day by intervening. I hope we shall meet again someday, to finish the game we started. But for now the only solace I shall have is my wounds and perhaps a chance to sate my anger on others here. 

 

Which reminds me, where is my apprentice? Have you seen him...I can feel him, it is weak but he lives still. I wonder if he had a similar encounter as myself. What has become of him."

 

 

 

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

Akheron nodded as he took the co-ordinates, once aboard and pocketed what remained of his apprentice. It was probably a little humiliating to be stored as such but for now, he had few other choices. It was as he thought...he has suffered just as much as himself, if not more so and yet he knew it would be a lesson learnt. Although broken as with all Sith they would be remade anew, stronger from the experience. But first he would need a new body, easily rectified once aboard his flagship. If it had survived the battle raging above. 

 

From the sounds of it, the fight had been fierce and the Clan had suffered heavy losses, and yet they were necessary and he knew each Lord-Captain knew the risks and accepted their lives as sacrifices to the Fanged God. In the end, Darkness would win by burning the planet to it's primal core, the losses would be honoured and the dead avenged soon enough. For now the Clan Brasganu had done it's part and would regroup to rebuild.

 

Stepping to a console, Akheron sent a message above.

 

 "Captain Garrus, take what remains of the Clan and regroup at these co-ordinates I am sending. I shall meet the flagship there. Although we have suffered, our losses shall not be in vain. These sacrifices shall be remembered and avenged soon enough."

 

 Receiving a acknowledgement the trio departed the planet, one soon to be ground into dust. Although Akheron did wonder where the performance was leading them, questions soon to be answered. In the meantime he would use the trip to heal in a bacta a tank and have Stitch-Mouth make a temporary body for his fallen apprentice.