Malachor V, The Tainted City - Citadel
The eyes of Malachor's Prophet rested on the wooden mask in his hands, his symbol of power known all throughout the Free Cities. He had always known that his days on Malachor would come to an end one day, but he had hoped that there would have been more time. Now a new force of the sith had risen, and the Caldera would fall into their hands, and with it would his world. Standing up from his chair, the Mindeater rose and looked over his proud city, his vision come true on the corpses of the sith before him. A monument that stood in defiance to the rest of the galaxy, a haven for the most twisted and corrupted this universe had to offer, the dark side come alive on the empty husk of a planet once more.
"Glory. Initialize Phoenix Protocol."
On his mark a plan was pushed in motion, the last card he held in his hands. Other lords might burned their world so the conqueror's would be left with nothing to rule but ashes. But there was no need to do so on Malachor. His people were strong of will and heart, the Unchained would never bow to the invaders. They were the rats, the cockroaches of the galaxy, and like in their reclamation of Malachor, they would find a way to survive, a way to stand against the test of time despite the greed of the sith.
After copying all data stored throughout the cities, Abyss AI flushed out every last piece of intel the sith lord had gathered about himself, his assets as well as about the cities themselves. They couldn't be ruled by force, the people would rather burn their homes than give up their freedom. Only insight in the dealings of the cities allowed an individual to truly take control, and without it there would be only aimless chaos and destruction to rule over.
The window of his ivory tower shattered into a cloud of dust and shards, raining from high above to the city below as the Mindeater extended his left, the dark side surging through his body in anger, in hate and frustration. For a last time he looked down at his city, his robe dancing in the wind that bursted through the broken glass. Wordless he turned around, lifting the mask in his hands in front of his face. Malachor had come to an end once more, but the new Frontier was awaiting him.
The eyes of Malachor's Prophet rested on the wooden mask in his hands, his symbol of power known all throughout the Free Cities. He had always known that his days on Malachor would come to an end one day, but he had hoped that there would have been more time. Now a new force of the sith had risen, and the Caldera would fall into their hands, and with it would his world. Standing up from his chair, the Mindeater rose and looked over his proud city, his vision come true on the corpses of the sith before him. A monument that stood in defiance to the rest of the galaxy, a haven for the most twisted and corrupted this universe had to offer, the dark side come alive on the empty husk of a planet once more.
"Glory. Initialize Phoenix Protocol."
On his mark a plan was pushed in motion, the last card he held in his hands. Other lords might burned their world so the conqueror's would be left with nothing to rule but ashes. But there was no need to do so on Malachor. His people were strong of will and heart, the Unchained would never bow to the invaders. They were the rats, the cockroaches of the galaxy, and like in their reclamation of Malachor, they would find a way to survive, a way to stand against the test of time despite the greed of the sith.
After copying all data stored throughout the cities, Abyss AI flushed out every last piece of intel the sith lord had gathered about himself, his assets as well as about the cities themselves. They couldn't be ruled by force, the people would rather burn their homes than give up their freedom. Only insight in the dealings of the cities allowed an individual to truly take control, and without it there would be only aimless chaos and destruction to rule over.
The window of his ivory tower shattered into a cloud of dust and shards, raining from high above to the city below as the Mindeater extended his left, the dark side surging through his body in anger, in hate and frustration. For a last time he looked down at his city, his robe dancing in the wind that bursted through the broken glass. Wordless he turned around, lifting the mask in his hands in front of his face. Malachor had come to an end once more, but the new Frontier was awaiting him.
