Manually added by Seer Locke Sonjie

Manually added by Seer Locke Sonjie

Manually added by Seer Locke Sonjie

Manually added by Seer Locke Sonjie

Dentavii Prime,
Orian System,
39 ABY

Stalking the darkness of the cold space, Lexiconus Aurelius monitored the spinning fragments of rock and ice while on sentry for the Oracle’s Apprentice. His mint eyes fixed on the horizon in dedication, as he knew that the threat of the enemy coming was a reality to face. From the visuals of his binoculars, Lexic noticed a slither of sapphire light which streaked across the nearby sky and dropped down towards the surface of Dentavii prime. The screeching from the object felt chilling down his spine, as it pierced his ears like a sniper shot. Instigated by the orders given to him from the Stone Dragon, Lexiconus was forced to climb down off his boulder perch and investigate the crash site. The Zelosian couldn’t help but wonder what caused the object to fall from the sky, whether by a silent shooting or power faults. He descended from the sandy rock face and landed softly onto the ground, securing the breathing apparatus onto his face and jogged briskly towards the landing site and towards his goal of the crashed object. With his lightsaber in hand, he often didn’t rely on this machination of ancient religions, but it did the job of murder and terror. Lexiconus crossed the barren and silent field of cold stone, sandy dunes and ice, and came across a small and flat landing area.

Once he approached the area, the Zelosian’s visor scanned around and he saw the grey metallic hull of a shuttle cooling, with wisps of steam rolling from the rear end and wings. Lexic descended into the flat landing area and kept his lightsaber tightly in grip, he did not trust the prospect of civilians trapped in this war zone, nor the idea of convicts let loose who might be Force-Sensitive. With careful footsteps, the Sith finally reached the landing platform and peered around at the shuttle front window. There didn’t seem to be much activity coming from the shuttle’s hull apart from the steam and several red lights, but Lexic felt something was amiss from the activity inside. The Zelosian found the ramp to be ajar slightly, with a showering of amber sparks coming from inside out, this didn’t bode well and he ignited his emerald blade quickly. Peeking inside, Lexic saw that the hydraulic arm was broken and didn’t extend as much as it needed, so he carefully reached inside with his lightsaber and sliced the metal clean. The heated fluids of the arm sprayed across his arm and burnt his olive skin harshly, as the Zelosian let out a roar as he dropped his lightsaber and tumbled back before the ramp crushed him. He placed his palm on the first degree burns and tried his best to heal the scarred tissue, but then the occupants of the vessel began to slowly show themselves. Their golden eyes shined from the shadows as they hissed menacingly at Lexiconus, their orange jumpsuits slowly coming into the light as they stepped down.

With no real effort from himself, the Sith’s arm was healed and he stood from the grainy sands of the asteroid, glaring at the group who he now knew were Trandoshans.

“Let us go and we will pay you handsomely once we have found our people.” A quite large Trandoshan hissed from his sewer green lips, his forked green flickering at the end. Lexiconus reached out for his lightsaber from the ramp and quickly snatched it in the air, igniting the emerald blade as quick as he could. This wasn’t the weapon he would rely on, but it’ll do to cut flesh. Almost on instinct, the large reptilian launched himself at the Sith with his claws bared, but underestimated the training of Lexic’s blade as the Zelosian aggressively lopped the Trandoshan’s head clean off. In his fuelled anger, Lexic reached out once more and lifted two of the convicts into the air, restricting their necks with great pressure. Chords began to flick and snap as his grip tightened with the Force aiding his raw emotion.

“You have nothing I want! You will die!” Lexic grinned as he spoke to them, a smaller Trandoshan behind the two flying convicts cowered and began to make a run for an exit. The Zelosian predicted this would occur and he quickly dropped the brown Trandoshan, then twisted his wrist and snapped the neck of the remaining convict in his grip. The Sith carefully retracted his arm back and flung the corpse at the running convict, he was caught by the sheer weight and trapped on the ground, his leg twisted the wrong way underneath his ally’s body. Panting and wheezing for breath, the remaining Trandoshan slowly looked up into the eyes of the Sith and snarled in disgust. All Lexic did was smile and lunged his emerald blade into the cranium of the convict. The Zelosian yanked his lightsaber from the brain matter and marched towards the final prisoner who despite the broken limb, continued to stand and limp his way from the menacing torture of the Sith. Lexiconus pulled his arm back and concentrated on the range of his target, who he calculated to slam a fist into his kidney, then launched his arm. The Force carried out his task and delivered an aggressive cross punch to the side of the convict, who whimpered and collapsed in pain. Lexic quickly caught up to the orange prisoner and chuckled as he deactivated his lightsaber and slid it back into his waistcloth.

“You should be afraid of me, as I represent the power of the Dark Side, and you are only a pawn to play. Now it is time to suffer.” The Sith gave the Trandoshan a cold smirk as he slowly aimed his hands at him and delivered strong pulses of shocking energy directly to his face and chest. Lexiconus blasted out laughter as he angrily snarled and directed the Dark Side energy of cerulean arcs into the cooking skin of the convict. The victim of the lightning torture jolted and screamed out in agony, clawing at the rocks which caused his fingers to bleed. Then the Trandoshan’s back arched up as his facial expressions tensed violently, and he ceased to be under the electric manifestations. The Sith ceased his lightning attack and looked at his charred fingers in disbelief, he didn’t realise the power of the Dark Side can be so direct on others until now.

“I will develop this power for the joy of myself, and then this war will be in the Apprentice’s favour. I swear on this day, the Clan leaders will learn through discipline to fear me!” Lexic chuckled to himself, and returned to the shuttle. He felt this experience brought his closer to the Dark Side, but took a toll on his strength as he felt his body become weak again. Lexic held his hands to his chest as he tried to breath properly and limped to the shuttle. Inside, he took a moment to sit at the rear bench and relax for a second, the shuttle and scenario here can be reported later. He needed to rest, and to revise what had happened here, Lexic slowly closed his eyes and fell into a slumber.

I truly want to help- sort of.... :)

Please find attached my entry for the competition, thank you.

Ruined Temple,
Dentavii Prime,
Orian System,
39 ABY

A soft humming filled the air and gracefully whispered into the ears of Vexatus’ followers while they worked away heavily on the ruins of the ancient temple. The legendary Darth Vexatus who had his slender green hands run over the fine intrications of the walls, while Xia Long the resident Matriarch of the Long Family sat and meditated next to him. She communicated with the dead that once resided here, their memories, their actions and reactions, all recorded within these walls. Jeric Cyrin was nowhere to be seen, but that was the place he truly belonged. Always on the edges of your sight, vastly out of range yet constantly monitoring you like a predatory cat, this was Jeric’s place in the company of Vexatus. Both Maelous and Jen were almost a single entity, analysing and observing various pieces of stone that Vexatus ordered them to process and place appropriately. The two worked seamlessly together, as the Force bonded them in more than just emotions. Then there was Lexiconus who sat at the folded out desk in a tent at the rear, his body always in the light of this desk. He was quite useless without something as simple as a torch, but the Zelosian worked his best on the console in order to analyse the new information. He wasn’t just a medical man, and this wasn’t some ordinary rebellion. His eyes were diverted to a small box that kept flashing before him, as if to warn him it was there to read. Lexiconus expanded the box and found something that destroyed his peace; an escape plan.

Shuttle is ready for take-off. Supplies are packed. Co-ordinates are locked in. Join us at the Turmoil promptly. Bring Jade with you.

It must be Maelous, Lexic couldn’t think of anyone else who would value Jade just as much as the Sith Aedile. He frowned and growled at the terminal in detest, the strength of this team was about to be destroyed by two foolish cowards. His eyes slowly rolled over to view the pair outside of the lit tent, where he glared coldly at their backs. Lexiconus wasn’t going to let the integrity of this team falter, and he certainly wasn’t going to let anyone leave with vital supplies and sensitive information of the team. The Zelosian shot from the chair and slipped his night-vision goggles on, then stormed out of the tent and towards the bonded duo. With a venom on his expression, Lexic shoved against the Aedile which forced him into the table slightly. Maelous quickly turned and growled with fury as he gripped the Zelosian’s weak arm, then took him to one side.

“You’re planning to leave with all of our stuff!? All of the stock we need to keep this place running and you’re serious about this!?” Lexic whispered to the Sith, who instantly knew what this was about and dragged the Zelosian further out of the temple and towards the designated shuttle. From there, he shoved Lexic onto the ramp and he collapsed harshly onto the metal, grunting in pain.

“Yes, we’re leaving because this group are not going to survive the onslaught that is the Clan’s Warhost! It’s completely stupid to stay and fight this out, we’ll surely die by either Cethgus’ hand or Muz’s!” Maelous looked at Jade who knew exactly what was going on and rushed back to the table in order to continue Vexatus’ orders. Like nothing happened.

Maelous slowly turned back to Lexiconus who was trying to heal the bruising on his arm and leg, feeling instantly better as he stood to face Maelous. Lexic shook his head and sighed, he knew the plan was solid but this broke the philosophy that this team stood for. The freedom to study the unknown, the wide and unexplained studies this star of Ombus gave to the Clan. The wealth of knowledge from these abandoned temples were invaluable to the entire Clan and the future generations, which was exactly why Lexiconus needed to get them to Locke. Like a light turned on in Lexic’s mind, he quickly rushed back to the tent. Inside, he grabbed his own personal items, along with the notes from the ritual that Vexatus wrote himself and started sending all the information from the console onto an open datapad. With any luck, Locke would see reason to keep this ritual details and the scholars would study them. Lexiconus slowly turned back to exit the tent and saw something that could only be described as betrayal; the shuttle of Maelous and Jade took off into the skies whilst Shi Long and Vexatus used their abilities to halt the shuttle. The Zelosian thought himself being labelled as the scapegoat, but needed something to back himself up. He placed his stuff back where they belong, with Vexatus’ notes and only took the datapad to his leaders. With any luck they’ll believe him more than Maelous. Lexiconus rushed out and ran at Shi Long, who eagerly awaited his new study with a saddened expression. The Krath Adherent handed the datapad to Shi who studied it over and nodded in disgust.

“They were stealing from our notes I see, they were always traitors to the cause. Something that is unacceptable when our mission is resolved. Good job, Warrior.” The Dragon patted Lexic’s shoulder as he slowly turned back around and walked into the temple.

Disaster slightly averted, Lexic. At least for you.

Darkblade growled as he read the message. Internal fighting. Vexatus and Marcus traitors. Any who oppose Locke are to be brought to justice. So it had come down to this. After a relative time of peace the Dark Jedi once again squabbled with each other over power. Sighing, he stood up from his desk at the Shadow Academy and grabbed his robes to head out towards the shuttle he had for personal use. He already knew who he was going to apprehend first. As he boarded his shuttle, the Anzat felt a surge of excitement come across him. His first real battle would test his skills and limits he had worked so hard to hone these last 16 months. Smiling to himself he relished in the idea of testing against his one true rival.
The Anzat stepped off the transport, and watched it fly off again to its next destination, bringing the troops to the front. Darkblade would have liked to join them, but his mission took him elsewhere. Stalking through the streets of Nar Shadaa the Seeker easily found his target. Leaving an easy to find trail the Anzat was able to find Bentre with ease to a local bar. As he stepped inside, the people crowd inside turned to a hush as they watched the Knight approach the Human at the bar. Darkblade grabbed Bentre by the neck and pulled him up. A stream of vomit erupted from the Devil’s Shroud BTL, soaking the Anzat’s robes. Disappointed at the current state of his opponent the Anzat thought quickly to minimize attention to himself.
Sighing, Darkblade pulled the drunken Human down from his stool and drug him back across the streets to the transport drop spot. As he signaled the transport to pick him up and return him to CNS territory, he couldn’t help but feel pity for the poor soul laying on the ground. He would wake up the next morning with a massive hangover, not realizing where he was and would probably be asking for more beer. Chuckling slightly, Darkblade sank to his knees and grabbed Bentre’s head. “This is for your own good.” He said as he head-butted the Human repeatedly. A pool of blood forming beneath his body, nose broken and teeth smashed to pieces.
The transport landed, with the pilots giving a weird look as Darkblade entered the ramp dragging the limp body of the Human behind him. “He put up a fight, can’t blame him for being hunted down and told he was on the wrong side, right?” As the transport made its way back to Naga Sadow territory he knew Bentre would never remember this. Although he probably saved his life, and if the Consul ever found out he had lied to him, things would turn out to be a lot worse than they were now. Patting Bentre on the shoulder, he couldn’t help but feel slightly relieved he didn’t have to fight his friend in a real battle. Whatever the outcome would have been, it wouldn’t have been something Darkblade would have been proud of. Having a friend in the Brotherhood was rare enough as it is, having to fight him would be a betrayal of their friendship. Everyone makes mistakes, let’s forget this one together. Darkblade pulled out a bottle of alcohol, downed it in one go and stood up.
Walking towards the pilot and its crew, he quickly made short work of the two of them as he snapped their necks. Setting the course on autopilot, he disposed of the crew. Giggling slightly as the alcohol reached his brains, he could only imagine Locke’s face as the shuttle crashed into the Temple of Blood. Writing a quick note, he scribbled Tough fight with traitors, stole transport, Bentre and me were caught offguard. Slipping into thepilot seat, no idea what he was doing or how to pilot the blasted thing, Darkblade tried his best to steer it towards the Temple of Blood and before long he slipped into the coma of sweet dreams and alcohol induced fevers.