A New Sword

[The Hound]

When he was presented his armor back, the armor that had been taken from him when he started on the path of pleasing his Goddess, he refused, sending the armor into the depths of his quarters. But now, with his new life ahead of him, he pondered weather or not the use of is old blades would be appropriate either.

His time with Master Mason did serve some purpose now at least, as he scoured the Sith archives for a lightsaber design that would befit his new self and his new identity. Something that would truly become an extension of himself in battle.

Days of research and searching bore little fruit. What he found was the lightwhip and a long-handle lightsaber. Neither were of much use to him, but the concepts of both could prove to be truly marvelous. The flexibility and reach of a lightwhip and the extra housing space of a long-handle lightsaber seemed to be a great start for this exotic weapon.

 

[The Hound]

There wasn't much difference between a lightwhip and a lightsaber when it came to general functionality. They were built on the same principles, yet held a completely different set of advantages and disadvantages. On the one side, they offered quick and sometimes unpredictable strikes against opponents, while on the other, they were known to be overwhelmed through brute force alone.

To combat this, some ancient Sith Lords like Darth Lumiya had opted for solid tassels. But what could he use that would not be broken or cut should his weapon short out as lightwhips were known to do sometimes?

Then it came to him, his armor was made of beskar. He could melt it down and create the tassels, but a lightwhip...Was too unpredictable. The different behaviors of the energy beams and the solid matter was too much and while he could influence the solid matter with the Force, the beams would be difficult to handle.

 

[The Hound]

Vaermina mulled over this dilemma for two days and three nights when he came across the work of another, slightly less ancient Sith Lord. It had been deep within the archives, tossed aside as a silly idea probably and he could see why. The design called for a strong cable wrapped around a magnet deep within the hilt of one's lightsaber. The hilt itself was as long as a saberstaff with the cable taking up half of the space and the actual lightsaber being attached and constructed in the second half.

Upon pressing a release switch, the magnet deactivated and sprung the cord out. There were several hypotheses as to what would keep the cord stable or if it was even worth keeping the cord stable for use as an even longer blade. But there were too many problems.

The original design called for a Phrik weave, cortosis was labeled as an alternative, neither of which were readily available and without those the cord could easily be cut by a Jedi's lightsaber or eaten away by a blaster.

 

[The Hound]

Vaermina however had access to beskar. Ten kilograms of the stuff to be exact, more than enough to produce a few meters of cord if it was prepared properly. He felt the quartermasters of the Sith were capable enough. The shin and leg guards would be enough. For now he would continue on the question of how to keep the cord straight in battle.

Would he use vibration technology? Could he simply run an electric current through the metal cord?

 

[The Hound]

~Several Days Later-Concord Dawn~

Of course the simple minded Sith fool quartermasters would do a terrible job at the one thing they were kept around for. The cord they made was nearly useless, not usable for anything more than laces! He ground his teeth and tightened his grip on the control yoke of the shuttle he had taken.

"Those damned fools!" he shouted, causing sparks within his own ship. Cursing under his breath he pulled into the atmosphere of Concord Dawn. The home of the Smith that made his armor was on this world. Maybe the old man felt grateful to him still. If not well...

There were other ways of getting through to people.

 

[The Hound]

As his shuttle touched down and he was searched for weapons or illegal cargo, whatever that was in Barbarian Space, he took in the view from the modest spaceport. The place hadn't changed much since he had been there last.

Carting his hunk of armor through the town in a durasteel box he made his way to the edge of the small town he had landed in. The sound of a hammer happily working away at some project slowly came to his ears.

It would not be happy for long.

 

[The Hound]

"Turin! How good to see you're still alive!-" The two greeted each other in a strong hug, though unwilling on Turin's part. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you could melt down that armor you made for me...I'm in need of an extremely durable cord. Could you do that for me?" The old smith rose his hand to his chin, stroking the long, grey beard. He put two fingers up.

"Two months." Turin's right hand twitched.

"Two months...? You had that armor ready in a week's time!" his voice raised, anger filling it.

"Yes but now I've many orders to fill and-gagctght!" The old man began to rise off the ground, dropping his hammer. The Force gripped his throat tightly, restricting air flow. His eyes flooded with anger and betrayal.

"You will do this for me, now." The old man struggled in the air for a moment and managed to utter a single word.

"No." Rage filled Vaermina's face and he threw the Mandalorian beskar smith into the tools on his wall, causing them to crash to the ground.

 

[The Hound]

The ruckus brought unwanted attention however. The man's apprentice and son rushed down, blaster in hand. MCM standard blaster rifle. He could see it all before the young man rushed down the stairs. He rushed in, without taking any sort of precaution.

His arm was easy to remove.

The snap-hiss of his blade filled the room and its hum impregnated the air as it flew through the smoke and severed the young man's left limb at the elbow. He cried out in pain and the old man shouted in Mando'a, probably something in protest. The blaster clanked to the floor and the blade returned to Vaermina, still active.

"Now I can take much more than an arm...Or you could get me that cord." Fear. It was a tactic he was learning to use well.

 

[The Hound]

He stayed in the smith's home for a single week. He was surprised how easily he had been persuaded and when the cord was completed he left, without a word. Fear had gripped the man and stopped him from calling for aid during that hellish week. He would likely never return to the planet.

Back in Sith space he continued to ponder how he would use his new weapon. The cord, surprisingly enough, was rigid enough at a certain length to keep itself upright for a few moments. But he was running out of time. The construction phase was nigh.

 

[The Hound]

He meditated in his quarters, assembling first the lightsaber. He found it ironic that his weakest skill had now become his greatest asset. He gripped each piece of his new weapon with the Force gingerly, the metal fittings sliding into place. With his eyes closed he relied completely on the Force to guide his hand steadily.

The synthetic Red crystal slid into place. Everything worked according to Her will.

The second hilt rolled off of the floor, the magnet installed and the cord wound within. The process took several hours and when it was finished, Vaermina was drenched in sweat. The blade hovered into his hand, cool to the touch.