pimpmar
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Mar 18, 2007
- Posts
- 387
"Destinus; you need'nt do this! I swear my fealty to you, as our Lord! Please, show mercy!" The human hit his knees, hands coiled together in plea. He was trembling, beneath his dark robes, a lance of blood coiled down his ribs. His lightsaber lay broken not two yards away. The room about them had been utterly destroyed. The star-charts on the walls were shattered, as the consoles themselves were sliced open from errant light saber slashes. Destinus could not remember the name of the planet, so far out into Wild Space. He was not of the Wilds, he was from a more civilized space. One he would return too.
Still, he had matters at hand to attend to. The figure before him quivered in absolute fear. Destinus could feel as such through the Force. It tickled his senses. There was great loss in the room, as a dozen of this pitiful figure's closest guard lay dead before him. Destinus had entered the room alone, in the attempt at keeping the fight close to fair, or honorable. He had been mistaken. They fell before him, as so many had before. "If you had any sense, Lygar, you would have surrendered while I remained in orbit. I would have given you a place in my new Order. You brought this upon yourself. At least die with dignity." Destinus sneered, before igniting the blade in his hand. Lygar's pleas fell on deaf ears, as his life was extinguished at the end of the crimson blade. Destinus stood, roaring his defiance to the heavens above. The last of the outliers had fallen to him. There stood no Sith faction, anywhere, that did not fly his banner. The first half of his divine crusade, as given to him by the spirits of Korriban, had been fulfilled. The Galaxy had not seen a unified Sith army in quite some time. They were ill-prepared.
Destinus turned, and left the desolate throne room behind. His shuttle waited just beyond, which he piloted back into orbit. There, a fleet of magnificent proportions stood beyond the moon. Hundreds of warships, maybe even another thousand of personal craft stood waiting for his command. They had been recruited, forcefully or otherwise into his employ. Now they stood ready to die for his word, or by his saber. He had promised them eternal glory, and dominion. And quite finally, a Galaxy with no Jedi.
His craft docked with his flagship, the Exodus. A converted Battle-Cruiser, the ship stood over a kilometer long, with forty decks from bottom to top. It housed it's own fighter compliment of close to 100 escorts, plus four shuttles. He had manned it with his most trust-worthy, well, mercenaries. If they couldn't swing a saber, they could fire a blaster. Such was the way of things. He made it to the bridge, scanning the charts and chatter himself. The crew fell quiet around him. He was feared. It made him smile.
"Send a message out to the fleet." The silence that followed was pregnant with choice, with destiny. "We move into Jedi controlled space. We are taking the war, not to distant battlefields, but amongst them. Their young will learn of this violence. Their old will sicken of it. They will live a life in fear, of when we strike. I will lead you into battle. And you will follow. Together, this Galaxy will be ours." His finger touched the button to end the communication. His eyes lazily read the charts once more, although his selection had been picked long ago. The Bakur mining company had their eyes set on a world at the edge of Wild Space for some time, a name they had thrown around was "Bakura." The Jedi sent their furthest out-reach there, in an effort to spearhead the attempt to chart Wild Space. The Republic had been planing these expeditions for decades, but it may finally be going somewhere. Destinus would see to it, that this Jedi outpost would not live another day. There would be no expedition into Wildspace, he imagined. The Republic would be far too busy..
Thus, the fleet jumped into hyperspace. And the great Cataclysm, had just begun.
Still, he had matters at hand to attend to. The figure before him quivered in absolute fear. Destinus could feel as such through the Force. It tickled his senses. There was great loss in the room, as a dozen of this pitiful figure's closest guard lay dead before him. Destinus had entered the room alone, in the attempt at keeping the fight close to fair, or honorable. He had been mistaken. They fell before him, as so many had before. "If you had any sense, Lygar, you would have surrendered while I remained in orbit. I would have given you a place in my new Order. You brought this upon yourself. At least die with dignity." Destinus sneered, before igniting the blade in his hand. Lygar's pleas fell on deaf ears, as his life was extinguished at the end of the crimson blade. Destinus stood, roaring his defiance to the heavens above. The last of the outliers had fallen to him. There stood no Sith faction, anywhere, that did not fly his banner. The first half of his divine crusade, as given to him by the spirits of Korriban, had been fulfilled. The Galaxy had not seen a unified Sith army in quite some time. They were ill-prepared.
Destinus turned, and left the desolate throne room behind. His shuttle waited just beyond, which he piloted back into orbit. There, a fleet of magnificent proportions stood beyond the moon. Hundreds of warships, maybe even another thousand of personal craft stood waiting for his command. They had been recruited, forcefully or otherwise into his employ. Now they stood ready to die for his word, or by his saber. He had promised them eternal glory, and dominion. And quite finally, a Galaxy with no Jedi.
His craft docked with his flagship, the Exodus. A converted Battle-Cruiser, the ship stood over a kilometer long, with forty decks from bottom to top. It housed it's own fighter compliment of close to 100 escorts, plus four shuttles. He had manned it with his most trust-worthy, well, mercenaries. If they couldn't swing a saber, they could fire a blaster. Such was the way of things. He made it to the bridge, scanning the charts and chatter himself. The crew fell quiet around him. He was feared. It made him smile.
"Send a message out to the fleet." The silence that followed was pregnant with choice, with destiny. "We move into Jedi controlled space. We are taking the war, not to distant battlefields, but amongst them. Their young will learn of this violence. Their old will sicken of it. They will live a life in fear, of when we strike. I will lead you into battle. And you will follow. Together, this Galaxy will be ours." His finger touched the button to end the communication. His eyes lazily read the charts once more, although his selection had been picked long ago. The Bakur mining company had their eyes set on a world at the edge of Wild Space for some time, a name they had thrown around was "Bakura." The Jedi sent their furthest out-reach there, in an effort to spearhead the attempt to chart Wild Space. The Republic had been planing these expeditions for decades, but it may finally be going somewhere. Destinus would see to it, that this Jedi outpost would not live another day. There would be no expedition into Wildspace, he imagined. The Republic would be far too busy..
Thus, the fleet jumped into hyperspace. And the great Cataclysm, had just begun.