// Outer Rim Territories // Corporate Sector // Ninn System //
Deploying the Death Watch Werda Verda.
Objective: Sow the Seeds of Discord; Slaughter Sith; Claim Vengeance.
Equipment: See Signature Link.
While garnered through second-hand means, the information was sound. Like any good rumour, word spread from one Outer Rim watering hole to another as Spacers gathered to share their adventures. They spoke of yet another schism within the ranks of the Sith. With the string of defeats and small measures of hope that came from what admittedly few victories they were given, the once indomitable Empire was fracturing at the seams. Their ideals once drew the most powerful Sith together, carving out their vast Interstellar Kingdom by consuming all that stood in their path.
However, as their war machine progressed throughout the Outer Rim Territories - the fires of ambition began to build within the masses. Sith Warriors grew disillusioned with the Leadership Caste and questioned their once blind adherence to the cause. These questions eventually gave birth to the New Imperial Order - the fiery sword of vengeance that put nearly half of the Sith Empire to the sword. But, it didn’t stop there. Others lurked in the shadows of the Empire’s failure.
It was those Sith that these Spacers spoke of in hushed whispers. They began to build their bases of power on the Empire’s fringes, siphoning valued personnel and war material away from the myriad fronts. Some attributed this shift as the cause for the Empire’s recent losses. Yet, others believed such claims to be nothing but conjecture, as the Empire was credited with being capable of ‘printing’ soldiers and warships like they were freshly-minted credits. However, the fact remained that the Sith Empire was now beset upon all sides by those that once stood beneath their banner.
The eternal quest for power and the possibilities of betrayal were paramount ideals within the religious ideology of the Sith. They believed that only the strong were fit to rule, and thus when weakness was seen - it was to be excised like a cancerous tumour. Therefore, it seemed only like a matter of time before the Empire began to decline and inevitably collapse under the weight of its ideals. For, such was the very nature of these vile sorcerers, and no amount of rules could chain their ambitions or ensure their obedience for long.
When those words, spoken in darkened alcoves and with hushed reverence, reached the Mandalorians of the Death Watch - they knew that their time had come. These Neo-Crusader’s weaned themselves on petty acts of piracy, stealing from those that they could to build and regain their strength. As their numbers began to swell, the Death Watch then turned their gaze towards their ancient rivals - the Jedi Knights - to see if their martial might was ready for what was to come.
The Sorcerers of Tython were potent adversaries, as their magicks warped reality as they sought to defend their ancient temple from Mandalorian aggression. But, such power was outmatched by the unorthodox tactics and ferocity of eager and ambitious warriors. Several Jedi were slain, and their precious temple was left as a partially-smouldering ruin. But, such a feat wasn’t wholly one-sided, as the Death Watch suffered several casualties of their own. While others would mourn their loss, these Neo-Crusaders celebrated their memories and their achievements.
For those noble, Fallen Warriors would become the first Heroes of the Crusade. Their legacy would echo-on for eternity, as their names and deeds were etched into the Halls of the Manda itself - the Mandalorian afterlife.
With their dead honoured and their plundered spoils distributed, the Death Watch turned their gaze towards the Outer Rim Territories. Their most-hated enemy lay within that region of space and sought to fight amongst themselves. It was only a matter of time before the bloodshed began, and the vengeful Mandalorians eagerly wanted to throw themselves into the melee. Thus, the Crusader Host raised their banner and gathered what forces they could for the coming crusade. Although it was a meagre offering, the gathered warbands and warships would be more than enough for the task at hand compared to their war-like ancestors.
The Death Watch didn’t have the strength nor numbers to face off against the Sith in an outright war of attrition. Their burgeoning crusade would be snuffed out in its infancy. That was an unacceptable outcome, and a different approach needed to be taken. Thus, the Crusader Host sought to strike their foes from the shadows, inflicting as much damage as they feasibly could before vanishing back to temporary obscurity. Some would consider such tactics and strategies dishonourable, but the scalpel to an exposed and vital artery was often more effective than a cudgel to a breastplate.
In the end, there was little credence given towards how victory was achieved - so long as the world of Ninn and the Sith that sought to claim it bled for their sins.
Rynn Vizsla, a Rally Master within the Ranks of the Death Watch, found himself toying with a newfound prize as the Dropship navigated through the war-torn atmosphere of Ninn. The vessel bobbed and weaved through the heavens as the layers of clouds filled with blossoming flowers of shrapnel and flame. It would’ve been a sight to relish with his own eyes as the Sith put each other to the sword. However, as the man was contained within the relative comfort of the starship’s troop compartment with nary a viewport - the Warrior was denied such a spectacle. Instead, the young Vizsla familiarized himself with the plundered spoils taken from the vaults beneath the Temple of Vur Tepe.
Within his armoured grasp lay a solitary spear of glittering metallic silver. The overall design was simplistic, as there were no embellishments to be seen on either the lengthy haft - or the tear-shaped head. Yet, that was where the true beauty of this ancient weapon resided. The weapon itself was forged from the purest strains beskar, making it ideal for combating the plasmatic fury of a Sith’s lightsabre. There was more to that weapon than met the eye. But, the acid-etched engravings and intricate lattice-work of ancient technologies did little to reveal what secrets were woven into the spear.
It was then that his attention began to waver. The lights within the troop compartment bathed the Rally Master and the warriors surrounding him in arterial crimson hues. The time would soon be upon them, and every Mandalorian readied themselves accordingly. As the Neo-Crusaders slammed fresh plasma cartridges home, making their weapons sing with accruing lethality, Rynn began securing the simplistic spear behind his Jetpack. While it would hinder his mobility in a meagre fashion - the weapon would at least be within reach should the Rally Master encounter opposition.
With the spear secured, the young Vizsla drew the brace of pistols mag-locked to his armoured thighs. As his fingers came to rest above the weapon’s respective triggers, the particle blasters were woken from their enforced slumber and thrummed with plasmatic vitality. He was ready to face what lay beyond the sealed assault ramp. The battle with the Sorcerers of Tython had prepared him for what was to come, as Sith were naught but darkened Jedi - enslaved to their own vices with the illusion of control. There was little difference in their measure, save for the ferocity that their evils brought to the fore.
The scales would evidently be tipped in favour of the Sith as a result, but not all was lost. The Death Watch learned many secrets in their time sailing across the solar tides, and through their endeavours - balance was attained. Through the combination of ancient practices and modern technologies, the Mandalorians of the Death Watch could rival even the most skilled Sorcerers within the ranks of the Sith. It was this truth that the Rally Master sought to employ within the coming battle - as several canisters bounced unseen within the man’s laden bandolier.
The Sith wouldn’t know what hit them, Rynn mused with a smile.
Suddenly, the overhanging lights shifted from a soft carnelian to a pulsating green. It was time, Rynn thought to himself - as he turned the false fire-light of his visor towards the yawning assault ramp. Warning klaxons blared overhead as the dropship opened itself to the violence that engulfed the surface of Ninn. The sound was grating but silently welcomed as it helped refocus the Rally Master’s mind. His heart was racing at that moment. He was eager to throw himself into the fray and do battle with the Sith, but the assault ramp was deploying far too slowly for his liking. So, the man took the time to centre himself - to hone his thoughts and guard his mind against unwanted intrusion.
As the warning klaxons stopped and the assault ramp finally descended, Rynn was the first of the Death Watch to charge into the fray. The Werda Verda, or Shadow Warriors in the common tongue, had arrived, and their rage would not be contained.
~-~*~-~
:// Death Watch Crusaders:
> Slay them all and let the Force sort them out.
>> Destroy their Infrastructure; Make their inevitable Victory costly.