He sat in his quarters staring at nothing, slowly turning the bottle in his hands. He felt the rises in the glass that gave various information about volume and alcoholic ratio. Ridges ran around the base ostensibly to give the bottle style and make it more difficult to slide across flat surfaces in an effort to avoid tragedies. To say Bleu had destroyed bottles much like this many times in the past was an understatement, he'd both started and ended fights with them. "Kill tha Grandmaster, sure," he muttered as he popped the top of it off and proceeded to drink. Only person he was likely to hurt in a fight like this was himself.

Today everyone forgets how useful a dagger is. Easy to use, easy to hide. It doesn't make noise like a light saber and can make an unexpected move.

Nath sat hunched over, her hands clenching and relaxing slowly.

She had decided.

There was a certain satisfaction in killing things with your bare hands, watching slowly as the life drained away. The emotions and stages could be observed, in those moments you saw who you were really killing.

She wanted to see whom she loathed and whom wanted so passionately to see her family’s extinction.

"I'll draw you, my Ryyk Blade, and you'll slam Pravus in the face, right before piercing his darkened heart. You've served me well when facing my enemies, now we'll face an enemy of us all. Let his poisened blood flow! Let his screams echo for years to come! You, my Ryyk Blade will end his reign."

I first picked up my DC-17 during my time as a slave. It was the first thing I ever owned once I escaped. It doesn't complain when I kill, it doesn't scream when I escape, it doesn't question my motives or examine my methods. What would be more fitting, then, than to kill a man who isn't reliable; to kill a man that questions all, trusts nothing, and hoards power at the expense of others? This weapon is my life, and my life will end his.

Assembled on the flight deck of the Nighthawk, Mateus stared around at the motley crew of assembled warriors. Galeres’finest killers, these were his brothers in arms now. All of them had one purpose, no matter where they came from: to slay the enemies of the Shadow Clan.
“A lightsaber is the best killing weapon in the Galaxy, as far as I care. I’ve used blasters for years. I’ve used beskad blades for years too. But nothing cuts like a saber, stops blood flow like a saber. No mess other than body parts,”the Mandalorian said as he tossed his saber hilt through the air.

Catching it, the Mandalorian warrior snarled quietly. “Pravus might see us all coming, even when we surround him, but he won’t feel anything after that last moment when I put a sun through his heart.”

My vibroswords will be his undoing. They are my weapons. Without me, they are useless. Nothing can stand between me and my goal. My blades will leave a trail of blood to his end.

My blade, Abadeer thought, turning his saber over in his hand, it burns and cauterizes. An almost effortless kill, no resistance. Only death. Plunging this weapon through the heart of my enemies is almost too easy, watching the life drain from their eyes, or the lifeless corpse crumple to the ground. Abadeer turned blade on, letting the violet light bathe his skin, the gentle hum beguiling it’s true deadly purpose. Pravus has made his final mistake, and he shall feel my wrath. Abadeer struck out with a flick of his wrist, cutting a nearby ornament he’d collected, the clean stroke taking off the head of the humanoid figurine. The Togruta quickly deactivated, twirled, then stored his saber hilt in it’s proper place on his hip. The confident Sith strode quickly down the halls, towards his destiny, whatever that may hold.