The Chorus of Chaos (Dominion Dom of Mandalore Hex)

[Judas of Vahl]

Allies: N/A
Foes: The Dominion
Post: [09/20]

Usually, his foes couldn't handle the force of his blows. Lightsabers caved and dropped because grips weren't strong enough, muscles quaked because he was far stronger, or they simply dropped due to a lack of stamina and endurance. But this boy had been slammed, winded, and had still continued to hold his own against the black dog.

Judas flashed the boy a wicked grin, though his helmet blocked any semblance of a being residing within.

"Other things?" The man barked in reply. "Like what? Like a little war, a plague? You, boy, you worry about small things."

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 0128]

"I see the bigger picture!"

Under normal circumstances, Cedric would have succumbed to the strength of his opponent. This black dog would have bested him in any physical competition, were it not for the assistance of his armor and his will. he was forced to pull himself from the minds of his constituents. The men were winning their battle, and he would need all of his mental faculties if he were to survive this encounter. With a hiss, Cedric toggled off his lightsaber and pressed forward and low.

His opponent's blade soared right over the space he had occupied, but Cedric was now behind him, weapon springing back to life in a defensive pose.

"There are so many like you. Remnants from the old night; the war the tore apart the core. That's what your are, isn't it?" He pointed the blade accusingly at his opponent. "A scorned veteran that hasn't realized that the war is over? I see your weapons - they were employed by the One Sith's shocktroopers."

He nodded down at the sword. "The conflict is over, and this plague is a temporary thing. No, I speak of the war across the stars; of the army that await us within the realm of unreality: the Netherworld."

[member="Judas Foster"]

 

[Tyberius Fel]

The work was tedious, almost mundane. The 501st had now fully fallen into the groove of things, Rakghouls falling in rancid stacks of putrid and death and rot. The Stormtroopers only paused briefly for reloading and regrouping, before continuing the onslaught of clearing away the festering parasites burrowing on the ancient corpse that was once a vibrant beacon of progress in the galaxy.

Vorian paused to a crunch under his tread and lifted away his foot to be greeted by an ancient breastplate, still shining. Kneeling down, he searched it's gleaming exterior for some sort of maker's mark.

It held the sigil of Revan's old Empire.

The Sith smiled humorlessly and peered to the towering warrior behind him.

"Come here for a moment." He interrupted [member="Abraxas"] slaughter.

 

[Xiarr Sair]

As they moved forward, more relics of the old Taris could be seen. From the remains of skyscrapers to torn up banners of the Old Republic Taris was filled with artifacts from eons ago, from objects to the fauna themselves. The 501st seemingly took no notice, dispatching the Rakghouls with ease. But even so, there was really nothing of much value, the most valuable artifacts were likely picked by scavengers.

Xiarr marched on, hoping for something to do other than marching for an indefinite amount of time. Xiarr did take some pleasure at looking at the flora, as nature did thrive on Taris. Not many could imagine Coruscant like this, filled with flora and fauna, with no large spirals reaching into the air, and with no pollution. But thankfully, there wouldn't be any mass genocide on Coruscant or anywhere else in the galaxy for quite a while, or at least that's what Xiarr hoped for.

 

[Darth Eversor]

Have a brief respite from the carnage that seemed everlasting, Abraxas tore away from his latest kill - the crimson of his lightsabre hissing as flesh and bone burned away. "What is this?" The warrior walked over to his comrade, eyeing the breastplate that he discovered. That symbol, it was one used and paraded for hundreds of years, if not countless millennia. "As ignorant as I am towards some of the ancient history, that insignia is one that every Sith and Jedi should bear knowledge of. The name that it belongs to is forever carved into the stars."

Abraxas kept watch just in case anymore of the creatures attempted to chance upon either of the Sith, but it would appear the 501st had things under control for now.

[member="Vorian Adasca"]

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Objective: Open a new route to Taris
Post: 11/20

With the Ragkhouls being hunted down everywhere around them, Dunames has been a little concerned about whether the enemies will use the maintenance stuff or not. However, the timely arrival of reinforcements made things easier for the spaceport authorities. The Polydroxol, of course, has been a little busy on her own end. It was going to go crazy, for sure, but that was not on her. Dunames swiftly reloaded her ammunition and comtinued to shoot down more Rakghouls when the security personnel down below were faltering.

"Stand fast! We must hold on to the enemy Rakghouls! Until the reinforcements arrive, fight to the last man!"

 

[Tyberius Fel]

"It is an ancient dream, lost to the waves of time." Vorian dropped the breastplate back into it's bed of dust.

"Darth Revan was a peerless general and a warrior without match. But the weakness in his heel was the refusal of his destiny. The Galaxy offered itself to him, but he refused it. Was it because he could no longer stomach the price in life his war demanded? Or perhaps he was truly swindled into believing Ashla was the true road to salvation."

Vorian mulled it over a moment, then smiled without humor.

"In any case, we know better now." He turned to Abraxas. "Don't we?"

[member="Abraxas"]

 

[Darth Eversor]

"I'd assume we do, lest we fall into the same pit where so many failures now rot. There is no room for error." Pride swelled within the warrior's chest as he watched the breastplate fall into the dust. It held a kind of symbolism of how older manifestations of the Sith have crumbled, unable to support their gluttony with such weak foundations.

There would be no weakness, no shadow to follow. This was independence in its truest form, and the chance to liberate those too afraid or arrogant to see passed the veil that so many took at face value. "I have lived time and time again, yet I have been jaded by ignorance each time. What is it I held onto to support an already diseased caused, I do not know."

Abraxas sighed and reached up for his helmet; it emitted a mechanical clink and a low hiss due to decompression. Once the apparatus was fully removed, the face that was revealed was, possibly to [member="Vorian Adasca"]'s surprise, rather youthful for the warrior's caliber. It would only bolster the statement Abraxas made about living more than once, which could subsequently confirm the scholar's summation that, even though the man had been around for a very long time, that he was kept in the dark.

Somewhat sad, but nothing that time was incapable of mending.

 

[Tyberius Fel]

Underneath the intimidating visage of the butcher was a rather youthful face. Unblemished, though not entirely unscarred. Vorian realized this man, this abomation to most of the Galaxy was, like everyone else, another lost soul. A lost soul with a massive blade and the blood of countless innocents on his hands, but a lost soul nevertheless.

Vorian strode to him.

"Ignorance will haunt you no longer. From this day forth, Abraxas, you fight for yourself. Erase whatever corrupt philosophy of petty servitude your previous masters indoctrinated you with. Now, you pick your own allegiances." A pause, a moment to let the gravity of the new situation to sink in.

"Now, as your own man. Do you stand with me, with the Dominion?"

[member="Abraxas"]

 

[Darth Eversor]

Abraxas met [member="Vorian Adasca"]'s gaze with an unwavering confidence. This was what he was looking for, the right moment and place to understand what fate had in store for the warrior.

This was the first day of the rest of his life. "For the Dominion I will fight, for the restoration and rebirth of the Sith, we stand together."

Abraxas latched his helmet to the side of his waist, looking around at the remaining 501st that fought so valiantly. These men were just as deserving of respect, perhaps even more so than a Sith that would demand attention and worship. Something which could not happen again, and Abraxas was already sworn to cleanse the galaxy of such hubris. And nothing would stand in his way.

[member="Vorian Adasca"]

 

[Tyberius Fel]

"Excellent."

The echo of blasters carried down the decrepit bowels of the burned out citadels that dotted the scorched surface of Taris. The 501st had spearheaded deeper into the decayed city, and now armies of scavengers and auxiliaries filed in like a legion of worker ants to find anything of use. A few began excavating a particular promising sight next to the pair of Sith, but Vorian paid little heed to them. With a swift motion of his wrist, the ignition switch on the hilt of his lightsaber flicked on and the glowing Tyrian spilled over the smelted walls of what were once shops and homes.

"Now, I must assess your combat ability."

[member="Abraxas"]

 

[Darth Eversor]

An assessment? Abraxas had always thought very highly of his own prowess, his skill with a lightsaber being of a tier that most could not knock him down from. There hadn't been many-a fight that the warrior had lost, but that went without saying that he too, like anyone else, had flaws and weaknesses that any mortal before him. The cacophony of distant battle set a perfect ambiance, the atmosphere thick with death and the dust which was made up of long-dead organisms.

The heavy scent of copper filled Abraxas' nose as he inhaled, watching his comrade ready himself. "Very well, then."

The darkly clad Sith ignited his own brand of crimson with an electronic hiss, bringing himself into a stance.

"Let us begin."

[member="Vorian Adasca"]

 

[Tyberius Fel]

In stark dissimilitude to your conventional Sith, who would reach deep into the abyssal zone of their decayed hearts and dredge out every last tidbit of vivid emotion to fuel a suicidal, blood-lust charge into the enemy with an almost invariable adherence to Juyo, Djem So or some other type of overtly aggressive stance, Vorian favored a significantly more measured approach. His arms and legs folded into the lucid Soresu Ready stance, countenance that of a contemplative statue. Only his eyes were alive, darting and narrowing with a inquisitive analyzation.

"Come now, you murdered feeble witted beasts and unarmed civilians without a care for your well being." He gloated with biting Dun Moch inspired rhetoric. "Does this Scholar frighten you?"

[member="Abraxas"]

 

[Darth Eversor]

With quite the stark contrast, Abraxas stared at his comrade with a more predatory gaze; his eyes locked in like that of a beast sizing up its prey, lacking any warmth of a soul that cared about life.

A murderer's eyes.

Though he was a butcher, a non-subtle warrior that preferred the blaring of sirens and gunfire to silence, that was not to say that Abraxas did not adhere to the intricacies found within the contemplation of types such as [member="Vorian Adasca"], finding solace in the belly of mayhem.

"That does not mean I don't take pride in my profession. Your games will not win you a victory so easily, it will take much more than words to break me."

Abraxas tightened his grip in both hands, the crimson emitting a neon glow upon the warrior's face.

[member="Vorian Adasca"]

 

[Tyberius Fel]

A smile like a gash in writhing maggot flesh spread across the Arkanian's pallid features.

"So it goes."

Electricity cackled and danced from Vorian's blackened finger tips, charred from the deadly current that was the raw potency of Bogan made manifest. He extended his palm outwards and poured out his carefully constrained and regimented emotions in the form of a maelstorm of sizzling lightning. The cold blooded fire forked and arced into half buried chunks of metal and from smelted lampposts, striking at [member="Abraxas"] with lethal intensity.

 

[Darth Eversor]

The dissonance that was the crackle and snapping of electricity barked all around Abraxas in one cacophonous moment, feeling the heat swirl around in the form of pure, raw emotion. The warrior guarded himself, trying to sustain as much of the rabid current as possible before attempting to deflect it back upon [member="Vorian Adasca"] with his lightsaber. The feeling of being burned by what he could not defend from caused the Sith to grmace, clenching his teeth.

This man was a worthy adversary, and had proven himself as a skillful combatant thus far. But respect did not mean Abraxas would bow or go with ease, no, this was still combat in its finest form. A challenge that needed to be met head-on.

 

[Tyberius Fel]

Abraxas deflected a bolt of his own lightning back and for a blistering moment Vorian felt the current of white-hot pain explode through out every neuron and nerve in his body before he stopped the current. He gritted his teeth. Knowing firsthand how potent his power was could be described as nothing other than a bitter sweat sensation for the newly mantled Sith.

"Superb technique." Vorian acquiesced briefly, and then in the next moment wrapped the invisible tendrils of Telekinesis around dozens of shards and rocks of ancient rubble and launched them at high velocity towards the bulk of Abraxas. Rapidly stepping into Makashi, the lightly garbed and agile Arkanian closed the distance on the Sith Warrior's flank.

[member="Abraxas"]

 

[Darth Eversor]

The Sith smirked for a brief second before bracing against the next barrage of offense. The pressure, the persistence, this is what Abraxas truly missed. There had been nothing that quite matched the raw ferocity of two Sith dueling, and he absolutely relished in it.

Unleashing a short burst - or rather, a brief shock-wave through the Force to lessen the impact of the detritus being flung at him, the warrior took the brunt of what remained as the shards failed against phrik armor. This would buy him just enough time to notice the advancement of his opponent, attempting at something a bit more on the debilitating side. Had Abraxas been stupid, then this display of prowess would have ended moments ago.

Swinging his lightsaber upward diagonally, Abraxas chanced upon surprising [member="Vorian Adasca"]. The intent was not to severely harm, but to make the man aware that his trickery was being noted.

 

[Tyberius Fel]

Vorian chided himself for his foolishness as he watched the hurricane of debris simply platter off his thick armor like raindrops off a slick coat. Had the Arkanian not been a swift, wiry fellow with reflexes to match, there was a probable chance that Abraxas' lightsaber would have outright bisected him. Instead, Lightsaber crashed against Lightsaber as Vorian twisted his hilt and managed to perform a Makashi parry. On pure reflex, the Arkanian decided to give his fate to chance.

With a brief burst of the force greatly enhancing his movements, he attempted to latch onto the armored wrist of Abraxas' hopefully before he fully pulled back from his hack and unleash into him a near-lethal voltage of force lightning

[member="Abraxas"]

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Objective: Open a new route to Taris
Post: 12/20

Because the Rakghouls were now surrounded around the spaceport, the monsters mounted a desperate resistance, which came on its head soon enough: not only their desperation, their stupidity make them unable to mount a fully effective combat tactic. The monsters fought bravely but with no real direction. Thus they were unable to hold up to the Dominion forces sent to secure the planet from the threat of the Rakghouls, especially since they acknowledged the need for a starship maintenance base for future pushes towards the Core. Now that the remaining Rakghouls couldn't flee, and dropped dead, Dunames was ready to consider commencing the distribution of the maintenance equipment.

"The battle is won! Now is the time to unload the equipment"

"Roger, roger"