75 ABY - Where the war between the Jedi, Sith and Shadow Knights rages.
Sith Masters Chronicles (Belongs to Haniel)
|Subject: Sith Masters Chronicles (Belongs to Haniel) Tue Aug 11, 2009 1:09 am|| |
Sith Masters Chronicles
Many impressions were left in the same mud. Many boots had tracked over the same tomb. It was not a lonesome place, but popular. With a still stare Neckar explored the tomb of his former mentor; his words still rung in his ears as if fresh like ripe fruit. He could still see his wrinkled face when his eyes were shut. There was no name engraved on the tomb. But that wasn’t a driving force for his recollection the least.
The sky turned angry as rain fell. Neckar stood quite still, almost in defiance of his surroundings. Two unwelcome guests headed near. They stumbled like disabled children in a playground with to many woodchips. Neckar Unrivaled didn’t give them the luxury of a glance. He could feel them. Wet warm rain drizzled down his forehead and down his nose. He always welcomed showers, it was a cleansing contribution of nature.
“Little time for us,” Neckar thought. “One of us had to drop in the bin first.” The stir of the approaching guests became evident.
“Hurry your stay. The necropolis hours are closed to the public.” One of them said. The two men were caretakers. It was there signature to be a nuisance.
“You must have me confused with someone else to speak to me like that.” Neckar said as for the first time he faced them. Neckar was young, but he spoke like a confident businessman.
“Listen boy.” The caretaker dropped in the mud as a scorching death laser cut through his head like cheese. Before a reaction was feasible the second caretaker had a lightsaber pierced in his stomach.
Not too far, watching in the distance Sampaga nodded with glee. The Malastare sky finally opened up and rinsed away its storm like anger forgotten in a senior brain.
“Was that necessary?” It was more rhetorical then an actual question. Sampaga had witnessed his masters fuse lit many times. There was nothing abnormal about two strangers massacred for no real purpose other than they were near him.
After a considerable time the two Sith Masters returned to their shuttle and departed Malastare. It had been a short visit out of a respect to a long gone mentor. Sampaga didn’t know anything about the deceased mentor who Neckar held the highest regard for. The thought that he held a high regard for anyone was unbelievable. When it came down to it, Neckar didn’t honor the living much, but somehow found solace in the dead.
There was something of a spot brazing in the weave of space. Like a star reborn the shuttle passed through the endless black. A cluster of asteroids would of belted the shuttle to dust if it weren’t for the deflector shield. Asteroids were the strange cousins in space. There were many but unlike planets and moons they had no home. They were always on the move, like roadrunners with no specific destination. And in that honor they were deadly and pathetic all at once.
Malastare had since disappeared. It was not forgotten but the motivation for going was still a mystery. Neckar had more secrets then an adulterous spouse. As the droids piloted the shuttle Neckar and Sampaga occupied their time in solitude. Both had separate rooms onboard. The droids were steadfast dependable and guided the shuttle to their forward destination. Inside their metal heads were simple blinking lights and switches. It might have been argued that there wasn’t enough in them to amount to a soul, but it wasn’t disputed that they provided security. It was there performances, and when done well they paralleled a human in worth.
A confidential fraction of space was there base of operations. It was a few parsects near the outer rim and a cluster of asteroid belts surrounded it like a barbed fence. General Wise, who commanded the battle droids and the handful of rebellious dark Jedi who had come into the service of Neckar Unrivaled, awaited their return. Once their shuttle rocketed into the manmade gravitational sphere of the base the General stood and observed the two Sith.
“And how was Malastare?” Wise asked.
“Meaningful.” Sampaga replied. The General had somewhat of a violent history. He once had been a Jedi Knight, but plunged out the Jedi spell after he stumbled upon the dark side. His homeworld of Kalist VI had not been disregarded as the General wore garments that were significant to his culture. His heritage meant more to him then the Force. He had been born an aristocrat. But after he had been discovered by the Jedi at a child age his means of living turned modest and humble. And for that he later felt betrayed as though his potential had been kicked inside a grimy gutter, infested with virus plagued rats and other bottom feeders.
There base of operations had been named the Pigeonhole. The name wasn’t meant to strike fear into those who heard it. It was more of an inside joke. As wars and civil wars could to found anywhere in the galaxy, Neckar had disconnected himself. He prided himself on his independence. Within the Pigeonhole a colony of food was grown, which meant more resources and less reliance on other systems. General Wise had shared his wealth and purchased battalions of battle droids. And to this time they had not gone into a single battle. The times were young at heart, as independent as the base seemed, a real date with fate had not yet countered any of them.
Neckar undressed in his private quarters and slid into his bathtub. He rested his head and allowed his pours to soak up. His eyes were shut for sometime. A flapping of wings disrupted his rest as though a bird had flown past him. His eyes opened to a face staring directly on him. The grimace of the intruder was him as though the intruder were a twin. Neckar’s arms splashed out of the water and his forceful punch went straight through the man as through he were a ghost. Neckar sat up in the tub and the stranger had vanished. He rubbed his tired eyes and concluded that he must have been dreaming. After his heartbeat returned to usual he rested his head back down again.
|Subject: Re: Sith Masters Chronicles (Belongs to Haniel) Tue Aug 11, 2009 1:10 am|| |
In the neighborhood and not to distant there were dealings transpiring. The mascade region of space was known for its criminals and other suspicious agents. Outsiders of all species and planets found refuge in the region sometimes. Lawlessness though did not come without an organizer. Armto Balbu ran things his own way. He had once been a hired assassin for the Hutts but when he realized he had his own talents and interests he abandoned Tatooine and became his own boss. And after years of assassinations he had saved up enough credits to live like royalty. But he was still young, and he had little interest in living an undisturbed life.
Not one for a hatred of cloning, Armto had prevailed in having himself cloned one hundred times. And it was these one hundred that he sent out whenever he had an itchy trigger finger. Armto did not have a voice. He had once been blasted in the throat and since then he could not speak. When he listened to his clones talk he always thought they sounded nothing like how he once did. But the only link he could compare them to was the voice of his thoughts.
The spaceport in the mascade region was just outside of the asteroid belts that surrounded the Pigeonhole. And in the past weeks Armto had watched with interest as starships had flown in and out of the asteroid belts. The hostile asteroid region was far to dangerous even for heavily shielded ships to risk flying through, unless there was something of the essence on the other side.
“These alien ships have never presented a danger. They just seem to do there business and move on.” Armto Balbu’s closet clone said. Armto had named him Small Bu. It was a name that might have seemed appropriate for a pet. Armto took out his keypad and typed in his response. Small Bu stared at the pad.
“Anything that can penetrate so easily through our region we must identify.” Small Bu read. A typical asteroid bulleted out of the belt and headed for the spaceport. A mounted gun blasted the space rock to bits. Between ten to twenty asteroids broke free from the belts each and every single day. Although the days seemed to run together since it was always night in space.
“So what do you suggest we do?” Small Bu questioned. Armto Balbu grinned. He had hoped that his clones thought more like him the longer they lived. But after thirteen years after he had them grown they still were far from him. Again Armto typed his response.
“Follow one of those ships and see where they go.” Small Bu read.
It wasn’t long before another alien ship passed through the mascade region and directly over the spaceport. This time though it didn’t pass through with absolute immunity. Small Bu closely followed behind the alien ship with his Interceptor. Soon as the asteroids started to fill up his portside he increased his deflective shields to full power.
Ronoshie observed closely as he maneuvered out of the clobbering mess of an asteroid belt. The Incerceptor had made it no secret that it was on his tail. The young Dark Jedi activated his comm.
“Alright listen. We have a problem. An unknown craft of origin has followed me and I am very close to the base.” Ronoshie said with a calm overture.
“I hear you out there,” The familiar voice of Drexel answered. Drexel Talus was somewhere deep within the core of the base in a secure quarter. All day and night he listened to signals and messages of starships. “Don’t land just fly around in circles until I zero in on this ship and blast it to fire.” Talus instructed.
“I can manage that.” Ronoshie replied.
Small Bu had a sophisticated decoder onboard his Incerceptor. It picked up on frequencies that were nearly impossible to detect. He tuned in and eavesdropped on Ronoshie and Talus. Once he heard he had become a target he fired his cannons and blew the alien ship apart. The ship’s shield had no armor value against his cannons. The ravaged ship turned to a ball of flames. Small Bu spun his Incerceptor and dashed into the asteroid belt like a pebble swallowed by an ocean.
A chill in Neckar’s quarters had set in. He had finished bathing and had little patience to permit his body temperature to warm him in due time, so he gathered some logs and threw them into his fireplace. He had requested that one be built in his quarters. He sat adjacent to the dancing flames. As far back as he could remember, he had been fascinated with fire. He caught himself daydreaming that there were faces in the flickering flames. A face in particular stood out, the face of his sister. He had not thought of her in sometime. The last he had heard she was happy and starting a family of her own. He wondered if he was an uncle to some child out there in the compactness of space, a child that he had never known. His moment of carefree senility was short lived as his confidant Sampaga stepped inside his quarters.
“We have been attacked Unrivaled.” He reported.
“By whom?” Neckar said. Sampaga had been running. Sweat bled through his grey robes. His breathing was erratic as was his heartbeat.
“We don’t know. Ronoshie’s ship was shot down by a unknown craft that had followed him out of the mascade region.” Sampaga said. Neckar put little faith in Sampaga. They had known one another for years. But Sampaga had never been dependable in troubled times. His fretfulness had always got the best of him like an overbearing parent.
“We cannot take any chances. We are only secure so long as we are undiscovered.” Neckar said as he gathered himself to his feet.
General Wise was already in the command center when Unrivaled arrived. He had been staring at a recording of the unknown ship that had shot down one of theirs. Neckar glimpsed at the recording and commented.
“An Incerceptor. Those don’t come cheap in the galaxy. It might have been purchased on the blackmarket.” Neckar suggested.
“There is a highway of gangsters and thugs in the mascade region. We know that. And until now we have left them alone because they have left us alone. An unspoken truce between neighbors,” Wise said. Unrivaled amended some assumptions he had come to believe. Before he opened his mouth the General uttered. “Maybe the time has come to test out my battle droids!”
“No we don’t know what we are up against. I want intelligence first,” Neckar said. General Wise was hungry for battle. Neckar could see the thirst in his eyes for blood. It wasn’t a cold look but rather a motivated one. As Neckar prepared to exit the command center he stopped and turned. “And that little project I gave you before this. Have you come up with something?” Neckar had asked the general to reinvent a name for their base. The name Pigeonhole had fallen on deaf ears. It was no longer amusing.
“Yes, the Sith Masters.” Wise replied.
“Not horrible. Although it does kind of advertise us.” Neckar headed out.
A probe droid was sent out into space. But as expected the life of the droid was ended abruptly by a asteroid collision. More and more droids were launched out. And all suffered the same fate.
“We have no eyes and no ears.” Neckar thought as he watched on a screen as another probe droid was destroyed.
On the other side of the asteroid belts, Small Bu had told his story to Armto. He had seen a large base in the heart of space. It was hard to divulge the possibility that there was a community in close proximity to them. The mute crime lord Armto listened and continued to drink his intoxicating drink. His eyes were glossy like polished gemstones. He had chosen this region for its remoteness. His oozy mind muttered obscenities. He typed on his keypad.
“I should have stayed on Tatooine!” Small Bu read. “How am I suppose to run my business? These dogs could jeopardize everything I have made here.” Armto Balbu slammed his drink down.
|Subject: Re: Sith Masters Chronicles (Belongs to Haniel) Tue Aug 11, 2009 1:10 am|| |
Jet black in color and polluted from poor ventilation the cantina had seen both warmer winters and cooler summers. On the planet of Taanab, in this pedestrian, customary, mundane hangout, a crime lord had his back turned to his droid waiter. When asked if he wanted another drink he waved off the request. His interest was elsewhere. An incoming transmission registered on his handheld hologram receiver. The cantina was barren empty so he did not fret about being too unguarded. He allowed the transmission through.
“Biggy this is Small Bu.” Immediately the clone of Armto Balbu was interrupted.
“That is no surprise, you do his negotiating. And he sits there quiet.” Biggy said.
“Yes, well. He has asked that you pay him back for the favor he did for you. He wants arms support. One hundred tri-droid fighters to be shipped to the mascade region at once.” Small Bu didn’t sound very convincing.
“Listen carbon copy, I may have resources, but no repaid debt is worth that. I’m not in the business of war, I am in the business of making more then my competition. And that includes your boss. And that means not giving out everything I own. Your boss has helped me out. But he hasn’t done that much.” The crime lord said as his droid waiter insisted on another drink, and as before he waved it off. The pocket size hologram of Small Bu embodied tension. His initial impression, Small Bu appeared as though he were being chased by swarms of stinging bees. Nothing of confidence, or conviction, it was clear he was just obeying his master.
“Please. We really need the support.” Small Bu was not forceful at all in his words, rather his tremor closely resembled a pitiful beg. Biggy was a bargaining man. But that didn’t mean that he had to play nice when he was shoved.
“Tell your boss I will ship him fifty tri-droid fighters. And after I don’t owe him a thing.”
Well lit and circular like a perfect orb, the private chambers of Neckar Unrivaled were tasteful. He had been startled by a dream and left his quarters in the night. His late night prowl had taken him to his chambers where he regularly meditated. It had not been his intension to live on a base, that drifted in space. From where he once saw himself going, he was far from home and far from his destiny. And part of him had died. That part that was poetic, and that part that had made him a dreamer. Obligation had overwritten his ambition, but he was confident that there were still a few turns and surprises headed his way. And if there weren’t he would go insane and jump into a few dynamic circumstances. Because there was nothing worse in his eyes than a static life of complacency. No matter what the date, or his age, he could not envision settling down. His forgotten sister might have been out there with a family, but that life was not for him. The virus that burned in his veins still was his greatest plight. He kept the virus a secret to all at his side. But as far as he was concerned, that was a matter for a later day and time.
Meditation did not quiet his mind, instead it juiced it like a sugarcane. Neckar had the sudden desire to commune with his friend, Shadow Rage. Rage was the leader of the Shadow Ryu, a sect of Sith Assassins who had carried out numerous missions all over the galaxy and who had never been outdone or caught. The coordinates to the Shadow Ryu were never the same for more then brief intervals. Because the Assassins were always mobile, moving, and purely on the run. The sequence of numbers needed to commune were factored in. And soon the facade of Shadow Rage materialized before Unrivaled, in hologram form. Shadow Rage was older then Unrivaled by the passing of a few years.
“Hello friend.” Shadow Rage answered.
“I am in dire need of guidance.” Neckar simply put.
“You never ask for guidance, but I will give it my best.” Rage said.
“I sense a disaster is coming for those I have pledged to lead. And to the best of my ability I have belittled these feelings.” Neckar did not care to open up even with a friend. But the feelings that the Force had been staging in him were not of the ordinary caliber.
“Fight the flames with flames,” Shadow Rage insisted. “I will send a few of my finest to you.” Neckar Unrivaled was appreciative. But even in the presence of a friend, he would not rejoice because a few missiles did not guarantee victory.
Fear was like the early stages of an incurable disease. Once it got into the bloodstream it lashed out to other hosts once it was through killing the diseased. In the scope of things, little time had passed. But the grueling lick of aging really made its mark through stress. And it was in stress that wrinkles, high blood pressure, thinning and gaining weight, and losing the will to live came to be. In part, it was a complete fiction that one could age gracefully and not be beaten down at the end of a long life in one way or another.
What could be equated to as a spider in appearance, a starship came out of hyperspace and docked in Neckar Unrivaled’s base. It had traveled for an immeasurable distance, and in it, four Assassins were stockpiled in it like ammo. The darkness and cold of space had relinquished their memories of what the warmth of a sun felt like. The title Shadow was handed down to each of them. Some were old and some were young. Shadow Quietus, Shadow Demon, Shadow Mauler, and Shadow Haniel. Each of them had there own stories, and each of them had seen the darkest side of living. Mauler in particular knew the comfort side of living, to the bloodstained blade. From his days enrolled in an elite school with the gentle name of Kaladar Renfara, to his squabbles with gangs on the urban streets of Coruscant. Shadow Quietus had the prospect of not seeing in black and white as many souls. He wasn’t the best looking Sith Assassin either. His pale gorilla like face instilled fear. He had been cloned from a wealthy aristocrat some thirty years ago, but in the process the cloning machines malfunctioned and he came out baked and deranged in appearance. Even his pasty yellow eyes were off, one eye was higher on his face then the other eye. Shadow Demon on the other hand, wasn’t hideous as her counterpart. Her long brown hair and brown eyes went well with her blushing complexion. And because of the significance of her spouse, Shadow Rage, everyone knew not to step over her. Even being married to the leader of the Shadow Ryu, didn’t promise her all the nobility she might have favored. But in the demand of things, it did give others a clue to backup from time to time. And the forth Sith Assassin who had been sent to Neckar Unrivaled in obligation, Shadow Haniel. He was the youngest of the four, but not the least decorative. A red cloak festooned over him, the cloak was red as brimstone and blood. He had come to the Sith Assassin life after being on the run from his past for most of it.
As promised, fifty tri-droid fighters were delivered. Armto Balbu watched from a secure distance as the shipment was unloaded onto his spaceport. The artificially intelligent droid fighters could inflict massive damage. Simply said, they were made for wars. Armto could not verbalize but a smirk crawled on his face. He was a Crime Lord, but that paled in comparison to a general who conducted wars. But with force in his fingertips, he knew he could do anything. The laws of the Galactic Republic did not apply to him as a Crime Lord, but now he felt even more like a god. And gods were not outlaws, because they were outside of the laws altogether. His clone Small Bu approached. It didn’t take long before his clone said.
“They’re here.” Armto kept his eyes on his war machines. Now he had to formulate what to do with his new investments.
Sampaga was a gentleman to their new arrived guests. He led the Assassins into there very own quarters where beds were made, and all the basics were prepared. A long spaceflight always drained on the body, but in the case of the four Assassins, they were very much awake. Unrivaled left the command center of his base and greeted them.
“Master Rage has kept good on his promise I see.” Unrivaled said as he shook their hands one after the other. Sampaga shook their hands too, accept he avoided Quietus. Shadow Quietus petrified him, he thought he looked like a rotting dead animal.
“Bluntly I don’t see how we can be of any use to your situation. What you need is pilots, not Assassins.” Mauler said.
“Of course we’d be glad to help you.” Shadow Demon said over Mauler.
“Every blade we can get is important to Unrivaled. Our common beliefs join us no matter who the enemy is.” Sampaga said. Unrivaled glanced down, he detested when Sampaga spoke for him as though he did not possess a voice of his own.
“Shake my hand,” Quietus aimed his sudden outburst toward Sampaga. “Allies shake hands where I come from.” Quietus said. Sampaga turned cold as ice. He quivered over to him and shook his hairy hand. His hand was more of a paw then an actual hand.
“I think I just missed you.” Sampaga said to smooth over their introduction.
“I’ve heard that line before.” Quietus said with a smile.
|Subject: Re: Sith Masters Chronicles (Belongs to Haniel) Tue Aug 11, 2009 1:12 am|| |
As Haniel took off his heavy crimson cloak Mauler stared blankly at him. It was a look of discontent. Mauler revisited the arduous streets of Coruscant in his mind for a lapse moment. He thought of all the instances that he had dodged death. He was still young, but felt as though he had lived a lifetime of devastation. Mauler slipped off his gloves and stared at his burnt hands. He remembered the time that he had been set on fire. All he could remember was the heat and the pain. And if it wasn’t for the apparition that followed him, the same apparition whose face was tattooed black and red, and who at first he considered imaginary, he might never have fought off those flames and lived another day.
There were unproductive times between Shadow Mauler and Haniel. They were outspoken and condemned one another at every turn. Any outside party would fine them entertaining. They were an odd couple. But were in the end, good friends. It had been nearly a day since the Assassins of Shadow Ryu had joined the Sith Masters. Nothing out of the ordinary had transpired, which only reaffirmed Shadow Mauler’s conviction that his mentor, Shadow Rage, had needlessly sent them.
“Day two. No sign we will have anything to kill soon.” Mauler mumbled.
“Is that so bad or are you just so desperate to get your hands dirty?” Haniel asked.
“Quite Han. You might like this passive approach but from experience I have learned the longer the wait, the greater the chances we are losing. And to whom we are losing to is open to debate, but I find this whole mission if you can call it that, a sad affair.”
“A sad affair? You mean like when a wife cheats on her man?” Haniel responded.
“What. No. Are you even listening? You got to unclog those ears of yours Han,” Mauler said as Shadow Demon passed by his quarters. The door seal was wide open, he had forgotten to close it. Demon gave him a disgruntled look. There was no pleasing that woman, she was always on his case. “I can’t recall the last time Demon and I saw eye to eye on anything.” Mauler confessed. Haniel was far from being attentive. He was munching on some food that Unrivaled had sent to Mauler‘s quarters.
“Yes you and Demon are very close.” Haniel said as he slurped down a drink on top of his food.
“That’s mine!” Mauler jumped and swiped the food out of Haniel’s hands.
“You can be much to harsh sometimes Mauler. But I forgive you.” Haniel grinned.
“A Sith Assassin does not use the word harsh. You need to patch up your vocabulary if you want to be taken seriously.” Mauler said lightly.
“I am a believer that someday you will be more friendly and see the error of your ways.” Haniel said.
“You are on the brink of death.” Mauler said.
“We will see who drops in the bucket first.” Haniel replied.
With a ever watchful eye, like an educated professor giving lessons, Drexel Talus sipped his energy drink. Like all nights, he remained in the watchtower staring at his monitors. Mostly he observed the nearest asteroids. And once to twice in a single night, he took charge over the guns that were controlled by a computer in his possession, and zapped them out of the starry sky. He crept in his chair closer to his monitor. A dot on his screen multiplied to several dots in an instant. To get a more accurate picture, he enhanced his satellite image. And just as he did his satellite was shot down by a blast. Drexel fidgeted in his seat for a split moment unsure of what had just occurred. He immediately connected to General Wise.
“General several enemy fighters are headed our way!” Drexel warned.
“Have you engaged them with our mounted guns?” General Wise questioned over the airwave.
“I can’t our satellite has been destroyed. I’m blind in here.” Drexel reported.
General Wise needed to pass on the message to Neckar Unrivaled. But before he did he hit the deploy button that activated battalions of battle droids. His droids rolled out and gathered in formation just outside the core of the Sith Masters base. And as the coldness of space greeted the droids, in an insufferable enviroment that no human could ever breathe, missiles rained down blowing apart numbers of droids to scrap. The droids were equipped with blaster jets, and propelled themselves into space. A tri-droid fighter glided around the corner and blazed away thirty battle droids. The miniscule blaster rifles that the droids carried did nothing to penertrate the shields of the tri-droid fighters.
General Wise contacted Neckar Unrivaled’s private comm.
“Unrivaled we are under attack. Several fighters are circling our base. I have deployed my battle droids already.” General Wise spit out. There was a humming silence.
“Have our shields up. I don’t want any of us drifing out into space because of a blast that got through.” Unrivaled said as he collected himself. He had been steadfast asleep; he felt a little lightheaded as he rushed to get dressed.
Shadow Mauler sat up and saw a ball of flames outside his port window in his quarters. The flames were a bright inferno. He observed them like a spectator. Gunfire stirred Haniel awake as well. Shadow Quietus entered Mauler’s quarters. As did Shadow Demon. The Assassins were quiet. Mauler reached for his lightsaber. The hilt of his saber was room temperature for the moment.
|Subject: Re: Sith Masters Chronicles (Belongs to Haniel) Tue Aug 11, 2009 1:12 am|| |
Missile fires exploded one after the other. By the hundreds battle droids blew apart. Metal hands drifted in space like lost can openers. The starry horizon of space was inundated with a hive of pilot less tri-droid fighters. Blasts poured down like lightning. A powerful shield had thwarted the attempts on the base. The defense of the battle droids was short lived. In less time then it took for the droids to gather in formation, they had all been annihilated.
Neckar Unrivaled had scrambled in the middle of the night. With signs of an induced dream fever, he stood tall as a crowd flocked around him. His followers tuned out the bombs bursting outside, and loaned him their attention. Most of his followers were Dark Jedi, and it was in a time like this that they needed reassurance that there turn had been the right path.
“I need the willing to go out into the abyss and shoot down every one of those tin cans. They can’t harm us in here, but it is clear we can’t hang around here either. We have to relocate and abandon this base,” Neckar said. The word abandon hit like a venomous snake bite. “And I will join you out there. It’s been sometime since I’ve tested my flight skills.” Neckar said as his general divulged.
“I regret my battle droids failure my lord.” General Wise expressed. Unrivaled padded his general in a loyal way.
The ship dock was heaving with more running feet then ever before. More then one hundred climbed onboard their Fighters. There were no shortages of motivations to fight the invaders who had arrived. Unrivaled activated his engines. A ghostly blue lit up beneath his Fighter Ship. He had been toppled with his response to the night, that until this cent in time, he had not considered where he would lead his followers after tonight. The unknowing of the thought scared him as though he were a victim to some sort of moral experiment. As his mind gravitated to the future, a figure in the backseat of his Fighter slowly sat up. The figure had hidden stooped in the back out of sight. It was not an unfamiliar face, it was Sampaga. In his hand was a sharp metallic blade. Sampaga pounced from behind and stabbed Neckar. The blade bled his shoulder. Sampaga ripped out his weapon and went to cut his throat. Neckar caught Sampaga’s forearm and held him back. The two fought each other’s arm power. Neckar’s eyes blustered wet, as the blade neared his throat. Once he knew he had been defeated he cried out.
“No!” The blade slashed his throat; blood spilled out and ran down his body. Neckar’s head hung down and he fell forward in his pilot chair. Sampaga ran out of Neckar’s Fighter and stumbled over his own feet.
Sampaga stomped into the command center where General Wise was discussing something feverishly in the distance with someone. Sampaga took a deep breath and attempted to be coolheaded. He walked in a formal way. He approached the general.
“Unrivaled has joined the others out there.” Sampaga said.
“I know. I wish you had talked him out of it.” Wise replied. Wise turned and informed the individual who he had been talking to to leave. Sampaga noted to himself that they were alone in the command center. Most times, the command center of the base was submerged with people. With his back turned Sampaga gouged his blade in Wise’s spine. The General collapsed to the floor. Sampaga stood over his blood soaked victim, and stabbed him further until he stopped breathing. In the spirit of the moment, Sampaga then contacted Small Bu. The clone of Armto Balbu appeared as a hologram.
“I have done everything your boss has asked of me.” Sampaga revealed as he wiped his wet blade clean on the uniform of the corpse below his knees.
“Has the shield of the base been deactivated?” Small Bu questioned. Sampaga took his eyes off the wavering hologram and pressed in a command. He then nodded in compliance.
“It is now.” He said.
“Very good. Armto will be there in a matter of moments and you will receive your payment for helping us solve this debacle.” Small Bu said.
“If he is on his way tell him many of our forces are in the air. Tell him to take another route or he will be shot down.” Sampaga warned.
“There is no air in space Sampaga, but I will warn him.” Small Bu said as his hologram disappeared. Sampaga was not steady as bricks, his legs trembled. He was over the top and there was no turning back to what he had set in motion.
Drexel Talus was all about to find and board his Fighter until he caught wind of a streak of blood on the shipping dock. He followed the red streak like map directions, and spotted Neckar crawling on his stomach.
“Master!” Talus carried him in his arms. He was a heavy man to carry, but the Force gave him the advantage of potency. Unrivaled was pale and cold, but he was still alive. Talus had to get him to the medical center. Where medical droids never slept and waited to carry out there programs for instances like these.
Relentless back and forth firestorms amongst the unbounded railways of space. If there was ever a test between disproportional numbers of fighters this was it. Tri-droid fighters were ineffective against those who flew out of the comfort of the base and engaged the invaders. Shadow Demon was one of those few. The Assassin targeted a tri-droid and blasted it to space dirt.
“He’s seen better days,” Demon quirky said over the transmission for everyone to hear. Her heart sunk as it became apparent that all the invaders had been shot down. “So much for a challenge.” Shadow Demon said as she maneuvered her Fighter.
Shadow Mauler and Haniel remained by each others side, while Shadow Demon and Quietus had joined the space battle. Inside the base there was a droning silence. It was like an unbreakable bridge that had never seen a taxing moment. Walking through a series of halls, it seemed that their footsteps were the loudest commotion in history. Haniel stopped to get a glimpse out a port window. He mused over the starships out in the fortitude of space.
“I want to be out there. Fighting with them.” Haniel mumbled.
“You don’t know what you want Bigfoot.” Mauler said.
“If you call me that again, I will flatten you.” Haniel said back. Mauler moved on and so did he. There next round led them inside the command center. A corroded smell drew them in as if obeying there noses. But they were not alone. Sampaga stood over the slain General Wise, and he was handling Republic credits from an unfamiliar character. Sampaga became startled and dropped his credits on the floor. The unfamilar character turned faintly around, and gave them a grimace. Mauler and Haniel were across the room, but were in range to catch the look.
“What happened to the General!” Haniel called out across the command center. Armto Balbu faced Sampaga and typed in his keypad.
“Tell them to leave or they will die.” He read off the pad. Sampaga was no messenger. His shattered senses told him that he had been caught in the act of his sin. There were no options left for him. He had negated everything that could reverse his unraveling. He was a traitor. And there was no changing that.
The command center was a drawn out area. With its blinking computers and screens. But it was not a prestige room either. There were no decorate artifacts, just boxes of blinking metal. Mauler seized his double bladed lightsaber and fired up its scarlet laser. Following his lead Haniel ignited his single blade.
“I smell a traitor.” Mauler said not thinking twice about his provoking words. Sampaga ripped out his lightsaber. Sampaga Force threw a computer their way. Haniel held out his hand and scorched it with Force lightning. Armto Balbu stepped back and reached for his blaster. There were so few places to hide. He had entered the wrong room, filled with Sith Lords and there overpowering ways. He wasn’t brave enough to fire off a shot, but his impulses told another story.
Armto blasted away. His finger trigger pulled and pulled and he didn’t let up. It was kill or be killed as far as he was concerned. He was not going to become prey to this hostile crowd. Haniel deflected his spiraling blasts. Armto dove out of the way of the deflection. Sampaga flew at them and swung for Mauler’s head. Avoiding decapitation, Mauler leapt back because the guard of his blade wasn’t in place. Haniel prepared to impale Sampaga who was fixated on Mauler. But a blast from behind caught his skull on fire. Haniel dropped dead. Mauler hadn’t a moment to react as his friend had dropped. Mauler and Sampaga fiercely went after the other. Their blades collided in a lightshow.
“Unrivaled would kill you.” Mauler spit out as he dodged a blow.
“To late I did the honors.” Sampaga rejoiced over his own taunt. Mauler twirled his double blade and sliced Sampaga’s lightsaber hilt in half like butter. Mauler leaned in and pierced his scarlet laser deep into his scared flesh. He bent the blade so that he cooked his organs as well. Armto blasted at Mauler from behind. Mauler managed to forego the attempt on his life. Shadow Mauler made his way over to the shooter, who was huddled on the floor, and beheaded him with one stroke of his blade.
Neckar Unrivaled had been saved. He had been brought to the medical center where droids worked on him to save his life. After the bleeding stopped, he regained consciousness. He had been out for several hours. But once he was awake he had a friendly face to survey. Drexel Talus stared down at him in his bed and smiled.
“We almost lost you.” He acknowledged. Unrivaled had not forgotten the days events that had placed him here.
“Sampaga.. Sampaga.. I’m going to murder him!” Neckar paused. His voice had changed. It sounded bionic, and extraterrestrial. He then recalled the metallic blade that had cut his throat. “I don’t sound like myself.” Unrivaled marveled.
“You are yourself I assure you. The droids had to do some work on you. And we know about Sampaga. Shadow Mauler disposed of him. ” Drexel explained in so few words. Unrivaled got out of bed. He felt his throat, it felt like a cold zipper.
“We need to abandon this base.” Unrivaled said.
“When?” Drexel asked.
“Now.” Unrivaled barged out of the room.
Number of posts : 883
Age : 27
Registration date : 2008-02-01
|Subject: Re: Sith Masters Chronicles (Belongs to Haniel) Tue Aug 11, 2009 10:46 am|| |
Cool! Sucks that I died though...
-Orginal Darth Sampaga
Я верю в одну вещь только, энергия силы.
|Subject: Re: Sith Masters Chronicles (Belongs to Haniel) || |
Sith Masters Chronicles (Belongs to Haniel)