Eternal Father
After Carnifex had boarded, the Crestfallen rose up and blasted off towards the Prosperity. The Dark Lord's shuttle moved far faster and far more nimbly than anything its class or weight would have suggested. It spun and danced across the expanse, point-defense blasts glancing off the Crestfallen's superior shields. Any Jedi starfighter than happened to slip in range of its multitude of gun emplacements was blown apart by well-calculated volleys, reduced to smoldering slag in the heartless vacuum.
Inside the cabin, the air was rife with anticipation. The brief calm before the deep plunge. It was a welcome sensation to any seasoned veteran of war, something both Zambrano titans embodied in spades. Carnifex looked to Empyrean, the former Sith Emperor. Their accord had transformed over the recent months, with Carnifex's aid Empyrean had rid himself of the accursed Worm, but became less than he had been. It was a fair trade, Carnifex reckoned.
To the former Emperor's question, the Eternal Father had only one thing to say.
"Calligraphy," He answered sardonically.
His gaze swept to Lysander, a man He'd come to know quite well ever since the Fall of Coruscant. "Open range, Lysander. Gird yourself and become immersed in the Dark Side. Steady work requires a steady mind." To refer to the wanton slaughter of Jedi as steady work was grisly, but that was how the Eternal Father viewed it. This was nothing more than sweeping away vermin who'd been allowed to nest for far too long. They had to be excised root and stem, from the most vaunted Jedi Master to the more inexperienced youngling.
The Crestfallen punched through the Prosperity's defenses, clawed landing gear finding purchase in the carbon-scorred flight deck as the forward cannons cleared the path for rapid disembarkation. Carnifex wasted little time in rushing out, the Dark Side increasing His acceleration to nightmarish speed. His first strike scattered a squad of security soldiers, sending them sprawling in all directions. Jedi leapt from all angles, lightsabers blazing in a kaleidoscope of green, blues, and yellows. He met them with terrible ferocity.
His blade spun to meet their every attack, blocking and countering with the fluidity of water. They tried to match His speed, but found themselves wanting. He aimed to maim first, kill second. At every opportunity He left shallow gouges in limbs, if not amputating them outright. He made sure to completely dismantle His adversary's defenses before delivering the finishing blow, often without flourish or extravagance. They simply died from a quick thrust or a swift slice, the Eternal Father barely paying their death any further attention than it deserved in His eye.
All theatricality had been exorcised from His bladework, this was cold and calculated brutality. He only maneuvered as necessary, deflecting blaster bolts with quick snaps of His blade right to where the bolt was passing. When He used the Force, it was just as economical. A sharp pull to throw His enemies off balance, a blast of lightning to saturate an area, or a single piece of debris through with malevolent accuracy. All was done in the service of murder.
But then, His senses flashed danger. He pivoted, watching as a TIE Avenger streaked towards the open hangar. It was on a direct collision course with Him, intentionally so. He could sense the murderous determination behind the pilot's actions, guided by his will. With blade snarling, Carnifex waited until the last possible moment. Then He leapt, somersaulting over the TIE Avenger as it screamed past beneath Him. His blade lashed out, cutting through the wing support strut, unbalancing the Avenger as it continued on before crashing on the opposite side of the hangar.
Carnifex landed on His feet, His cruel eyes watching the wreckage.
