Lucian

Star Wars - Jedi Exile

Kaz

Name: Kazira "Kaz" Lao

Species: Kaminoan

Age: 16

Appearance: Though young, Kaz has reached physical maturaity, as his species does at around age eleven. Like most of his species, Kaz is towering in height, and moves with a deceptively slow grace in all dealings save combat. He has large almond-shaped eyes (black with white pupils) and his skin is so pale as to appear almost translucent, even nearly luminescent in the correct lighting. His long neck is not fully dexterous, but does afford him limited flexibility, on par with that of a giraffe. As with all males of his species, he has a crest of cartilage on top of his small, bulbous head, which trails partway down his long neck. He wears pristine, light-brown robes, making an effort to keep them as clean as possible.

Equipment:

• Long-hilted dual-phase Lightsaber with a blue blade
• Short-handled shoto lightsaber with a blue blade of identical color
• Standard-issue re-breather
• Standard-issue commlink
• Lightsaber tuning/repair kit
• A utility belt to store most of his items

Skills:

• Calculating Mind: Kaz considers his mind to be his greatest weapon. He is intelligent and collected, with a nearly unflappable manner. As a result of both his Kaminoan heritage and Jedi training, it is nearly impossible to get a rise out of him. Even in the heat of battle, Kaz is always calculating and considering his options.
• Form V/Shien: Intermediate
• Form III/Soresu: Intermediate
• Wave-Dancing: Wave Dancing is a style of fighting that Kazira is personally developing, and has been working on since his time as a youngling. Inspired by the roiling, unpredictable, yet graceful and beautiful seas of his home planet, Wave Dancing is a heavily defensive style which combines the focuses of the Shien and Soresu forms, but takes advantage of Kaminoan physiology and inherent grace. The form is grounded, with the practitioner rarely performing leaps or flips, but it is swift and unpredictable, despite it's enchantingly graceful appearance. The practitioner appears to be dancing, with swirls and pirouettes that allow for graceful dodges, and sudden strikes from unpredictable angles.

Abilities:

• Telekinesis: Kaz is able to do the basics, push, pull, levitate small objects. Anything beyond the basic is difficult for him.
• Force Speed: Kaz is quite skilled with this power, utilizing it in concert with his very unique fighting style to become a "dancing" blur in combat.
• Deflection: A rather specific skill, Kaz is able to deflect (but not redirect) projectiles and some force-based attacks by focusing the force into his hands and altering the trejectory. He is not advanced enough to absorb r return attacks, merely deflect. This is another power that flows well into his defensive Wave Dancing.
• Telepathy: Like many of the trained force-sensitive beings in the Galaxy, Kaz is able to read the thoughts of beings who do not have any sort of mental or force defenses in place.

Weaknesses:

• Socially Detached: Though a lack strong emotional ties is generally a good thing for any Jedi, Kaz finds empathy difficult, and is fueled more by cold logic. Thus, in situations where most Jedi would be moved to action, Kazira may remain passive. There has been much debate by Kaz' peers and superiors over whether this is exemplary of a true Jedi, or a slippery-slope to the Self-centered philosophies of the Dark Side.
• Arrogant: Kaz is something of a prodigy, and he knows it. His arrogance manifests in subtle ways, as he is very slow to anger, but he is vastly overconfident in his abilities.
• Frailty: Kaz' fighting style is so personalized and focused on dodging and defense in part because the flesh and bones of a Kaminoan are thin and brittle, and he can't really afford to take more than a few hard hits.

History:

Force sensitivity is incredibly rare in Kaminoans, and is looked on as a deviation from the genetic perfection that the Kaminoans strive for. There has only been one Force-Sensitive Kaminoan in history, and she was regarded as a pariah. However, many years prior to the start of the Clone Wars, there existed a small splinter-faction of Kaminoan Aesthetics who thought that Force-Sensitivity should be considered as a beneficial trait, and that it should be selected for when breeding and genetically modifying. These Aesthetics spent much in the way of time and resources to attempt the creation of a Kaminoan who would not only be force-sensitive, but would also be powerful.

The culmination of years of research, genetic engineering, and selective breeding was Kazira Lao, one of only two Force-Sensitive Kaminoans to have ever existed. At the age of four, his powers began to manifest, and the Aesthetics knew they had succeeded, but then the Jedi found Kamino, and as the Galaxy's light was shed on the planet, the existence of Kazira was revealed, and he was taken to the Jedi order for training, much to the chagrin of the aesthetics who had guided his creation.

Early on, Kaz demonstrated the usual Kaminoan advanced intellect, and became known as a prodigy among his peers. His grasp of the Force was impressive, but his formation of his own personal fighting style was the true sign of his advanced ability. During the Clone Wars, he helped his master on several missions. Although his ability was never in question, his detachment became a matter for some debate among the Jedi council and his Master. There have been talks of an early promotion to Jedi Knight, but so far the Council has denied Kaz this opportunity due to his general lack-of-experience. Kaz himself has never taken much issue with this. Kaz and his master were selected for service aboard the scouting/exploration vessel The Reclamation due in part to Kazira's exceptional mind and skill with calm calculation. Though, for Kaz' master, it was also a good opportunity to attempt to have his Padawan forge positive emotional bonds with others. The effectiveness of this remains to be seen.

Since the reverberation in the force caused by Order 66, Kaz has remained in quiet contemplation. Though he has appeared meditative and calm, his mind has been racing through the possibilities and repercussions of the event, and he has spoken very little.

Young Justice: Season One

Tachyus, though still rather embarrassed, had been preparing for an argument, and so he was disarmed by Andy's chipper and calm demeanor. His grin broke into a full smile as Hellfire suggested holographic training dummies. He didn't realize those existed, but he could see the usefulness.

"Would you still feel an impact while hitting a hologram?" Tachyus asked with a chuckle, "If not, I'm not sure they'd be worth the investment." He sat down on the bench, the weights equaled just about his limit, but he had learned long ago that his limits must continue to be tested. He paused, leaning back on his elbows and cocked his head, looking at the two others who had entered the room.

"I'm curious, Hellfire," Tachyus said, "Do your powers have an effect on your physical strength?" He stood up as he asked, gesturing to the weight bench. He was truly curious, as he hadn't fully wrapped his mind around Andy's abilities. He neglected to offer Fenrir the same question, as he was certain the beast was quite strong. Besides that, he wasn't sure how much control Fenrir actually had over his transformations. He didn't want the gym to be wrecked any more than it already had been.

Young Justice: Season One

Wreathed in golden light, and gritting his teeth in frustration, Tachyus growled as he shot across the training-room floor, a bee-line directly toward his target. He took the dummy with an extended arm straight to what would be the throat. There was a creaking as the dummy's support pillar snapped, and it shot across the room, to land in the pile that the young demi-god had already gathered. The others had chosen downtime upon returning to Mt. Justice, but not Tachyus. His frustration would have made him bad company, so as soon as their transports had arrived, he had sulked silently down to the training room. The others were heavy in his thoughts at the moment, which only fueled his frustrations. Of all the team, only he had been incapacitated. Was he not the son of a god? Had he not been trained by some of the finest warriors on the planet since he was a child? The irony stoked the fires of his frustration even more, and a mask of fury passed over his face as several more training dummies popped up from the floor.

He bolted to the first with the sound of a thunder crack, and took it to the floor with a palm to it's face, tearing it from it's support pedestal and dragging it along the floor a few paces, then leapt into the air, tossing the broken sparring dummy into it's closest counterpart hard, snapping it to the ground as well. When he landed, he snapped to the last dummy standing in a fraction of the blink of an eye, and shoulder-rushed it with all of his momentum, blasting it into several pieces.

He paused and released the Godspeed, surveying the decimation he had caused by releasing his frustration. He was suddenly embarrassed, considering what the others would say. He expected a witty comment from Batgirl, maybe a look from Andy, but as soon as he stopped to think what she may have to say about it, his embarrassed frown mutated back into a grimace of anger. Juno. She had not only removed him from the fight, carrying his humiliatingly limp body to the paramedics, but then proceeded to essentially save the day. The fact that she was obviously more League Material than he was ate at him, but there was something else. He couldn't bring himself to actually stay angry at her, as much as he wanted to. Not only because it wasn't her fault, and she was just doing her job. There was something more. She was... she was really... He let the grimace go with a sigh, and moved to the bench, slotting on more weight than was reasonable.

Suddenly, the door to the gymnasium opened. Dressed only in knee-length white basketball shorts and covered in the sweat of his exertions, Tachyus turned, red-faced. He hadn't expected any of the others to come here, and especially not before he could clean up both the mess he had made, and himself. He brushed his disheveled, sweaty hair out of his face and gave a weak half-smile, the right side of his mouth quirking up slightly.

"Uhm... sorry. The training grounds on Themyscira are made of... sturdier stuff." He said as the others stepped in.

Star Wars - Lawless Galaxy

Marrik

D A R T H M A R R I K

Species: Pau'an
Age: 98
Faction: The Sith (Currently Independent)
Equipment:

• Specialized combat-armor
• Unique double-bladed lightsaber, utilizing a yellow kyber-crystal. The crystal is cracked, causing the blade to appear serrated and unstable. The second blade on the saber is actually an exhaust-vent to assist in stability due to the use of the cracked crystal. The secondary "blade" is thus quite small, only about the length of a dagger.
• Badass cape
• Advanced helmet equipped with a techno-visor with a fully-integrated tactical H.U.D and several different filter options, including N.V. and thermal, as well as a retractable breathing apparatus for extreme environments.

Skills:

• Lightsaber Combat: Trained by Darth Tyrannus (one of the finest lightsaber duelists of the clone wars) in the use of the lightsaber, Darth Marrik is extremely proficient with a lightsaber. His preferred fighting style combines the intensity and offensive ferocity of Juyo (form VII) with the dueling-centered Makashi (form II) style. As such, he is particularly well-suited to battling melee combatants one-on-one.
• Force Wielder: As in the ways of lightsaber dueling, Count Dooku trained Marrik in the ways of the Force, and the powers of the Dark Side. Marrik foregoes the subtleties of the Force. No mind tricks or subterfuge here, his preference is to hurl objects about, choke the life from the weak, and fry his opponents alive with lightning from his fingertips.
• Ferocity: Marrik is a dangerous and violent combatant and a master of tactically utilizing his rage and passion. In the heat of combat, he is capable of fueling his body with his anger and, ensuring that he is very rarely winded in combat. This also allows him to nullify pain, ensuring that he will never yield in his relentless assault. A pure offensive force.
• Intimidating Presence: While untrained in the mind-tricks of the Force, Marrik often finds he has no use for them. As a Pau'an, he is already incredibly intimidating in appearance, and as a Sith, he radiates an aura of threat and intensity. Only the very dutiful, very brave, or very stupid stand in his way.

Weaknesses:

• Multiple Opponents: Marrik's combat style is geared to offense. He relies on his opponents being too overwhelmed by the sheer brutality of his assaults to counter or take advantage of any of his openings. This advantage is lost, however, when facing multiple opponents.
• Independence: While not necessarily a loner by nature, Marrik currently finds himself without allies. Though his ambitions burn, he has yet to gather any forces to the banner of his new Sith Empire.
• Off-putting demeanor/Appearance: The very same traits that allow Marrik to intimidate so successfully, are also what keep him from any sort of charm or coercion. He's certainly not pleasant on the eyes, and he is direct and terse.

History:

---

The Dictator
Marrik (then known by another name) had a relatively ordinary Pau'an childhood, though his violent nature surfaced several times. When he inherited his role as the Administrator of one of the many Sinkhole-Cities of Utapau, his darker nature became clearer to those of the working-class beneath him. His sinkhole was managed with an iron fist, and although it was the cleanest, and had the lowest crime rate, the rest of the Pau'ans did not agree with the future Sith Lord's method of Administration. While he viewed the rest of his people as weaklings who squandered their place of power with their weakness, they viewed him as a brutal would-be despot. Though he had yet to do anything illegal, the other Pau'an Administrators moved against him politically to have him removed from power. Their campaign was succesful, a fact that filled Marrik with rage. In his exile, he lost his estates, his fortunes, and his power. He even lost his very last piece of fine jewelry to a Drunk Dug in a desperate gambling match.

---

The CIS and Vengeance

When the CIS arrived on Utapau, in the middle-days of the Clone Wars, Marrik offered whatever help he could to Count Dooku himself, in return for the chance to bring low those who had stripped him of his rightful place of power. Dooku, recognizing in him a strength in the force, and a rage that was unusual for one of the ordinarily passive Pau'ans, gave Marrik a counter-offer. In return for his aid in securing Utapau as a secret space-port for use by the CIS, Dooku would show him how to attain a form of power that nobody would be able to take from him. So, Marrik used his knowledge of the workings of Pau'an society and politics (and military) to assist the CIS in ensuring the cooperation of the Administration. In return, Count Dooku revealed his Sith nature to the young Pau'an, and gave him the new Sith name of Marrik. Thus began his training.

---

The Clone Wars

Dooku trained Marrik in secret, one of several apprentices the Sith lord had taken despite his own master's rules against it. Marrik's training was arduous and fraught with lethal danger, but he was a quick study. His rage and violent tendencies, which had been with him since childhood, though suppressed by Pau'an culture, were allowed and encouraged to flourish under Lord Tyrannus' tutelage. After being allowed to create his own lightsaber, Marrik was sent on several covert missions for his master, further enhancing his skills. It was on one such mission that the course of his life would change once more.

---

Inevitable Betrayal

After a successful mission, Marrik intended to return to his master, but he received word that Lord Sidious, his Master's Master, had discovered the existence of another of Tyrannus' pupils, Asajj Ventress, and ordered her death. With few options left to him, Marrik fled into the outer rim. Alone, Marrik decided it was time to hunt for more knowledge of The Sith. He would find the power to return to his master, and kill the treacherous old fool. Then he would move on to Sidious himself.

---

The Long Wait

In the closing days of The Clone Wars, and throughout the reign of Darths Sidious and Vader, Marrik remained hidden. In his wandering search for Knowledge of the Sith, he had learned of the Rule of Two, and the reason for the Emperor's decree. His old master Dooku had since been slain and replaced by Vader, at The Emperor's orchestration. Marrik suspected it was in part due to Tyranus' taking on of apprentices without sanction. Either way, he decided that he would remain hidden. He had no desire to face two Sith Lords, confident as he may be in his power. In the long years of imperial reign, he lived a life of self-imposed hardship, seeking difficult fights, and occasionally raiding Imperial digs for Sith artifacts and holocrons containing Sith secrets. All the while, he gradually gained power in his harsh solitude. As both a Pau'an and one skilled in the Dark Side, he knew that his lifespan would exceed that of The Emperor's, unless he had gained some secret mastery over the Force that Marrik was unaware of. And so, he girded himself, waiting, training, and growing stronger.

---

Hutt Space
Marrik had not expected The Emperor's death to come by anyone's hand but his own. With Sidious' demise, years of plotting and exile had gone to waste. However, both Lords of the Sith were no more. As far as Marrik knew, he was now The Dark Lord of the Sith. He took some time acclimatizing himself to the goings-on in the galaxy, and decided that the power-vacuum in what was previously Hutt-controlled space offered the perfect opportunity to gather forces with which to conquer the galaxy anew, and reforge the Sith Empire in an image that was to his liking.

Star Wars - Lawless Galaxy

Darth Marrik and Alix Raine

Illos City, Sketchy Alleyway

Collab between Sep and Lucian

---

Marrik glowered at the sweaty man, who had regaled him with more useful knowledge than he had anticipated. The man was, after all, merely a small-time information broker. Or so Marrik had assumed. It appeared that the man was part of some larger intelligence organization, making some credits on the side by selling secrets. The man had lost consciousness at this point, and Marrik was unsure of his next step. Should he kill the weakling, or would the man be of more use to him alive? His inner indecision was interrupted by a sudden tingling at the base of his neck, a slight shift in the force. He focused, and sensed his assailant just as the man jumped to strike him. Marrik leapt backward, in the same movement igniting his lightsaber once-more.

”Who are you?” The Sith Lord growled. His patience this night was wearing thin.

Alix didn’t speak at all, at least not initially. His garb was the only greeting the individual would get until he proved himself, with something other than Lightening, which could be so easily faked with a device. The mans suit of armour definitely looked complex enough to produce such a current of electricity so he wasn’t going to take anything at face value. He activated the electrical circuits, which rendered the bladed staff immune to lightsaber cuts ensuring that it wasn’t just cut in half, and then made a slicing motion from the man's upper right moving down to the left. If successful the blow would cut him open from his right shoulder down to his waist on his left hand side, a fatal blow.

Marrik raised his lightsaber, held two-handed, to catch the swing. The blades clashed and sparked, but the Sith’s visor filtered out any negative visual effects. With a roar, Marrik kicked at his silent assailant’s midsection hard with a booted foot.

Seeing the kick coming, Alix pulled back and rolled down to the left, his opponent giving into his anger by roaring. He definitely had one part of the criteria fulfilled, he had the anger but did he have the discipline? As he rolled down to the right and performed a long sweeping swipe along the ground in order to take Marrik’s legs from under him.

Marrik took the blow to his legs, his armor barely stopping the loss of his right foot. He made sure to deactivate his lightsaber to avoid injuring himself. He hit the ground hard, face-first, rage and fury dulling his pain. He rolled onto his back swiftly, and threw up both arms, his ferocious yell was drowned out by the dull boom of his force push as he sent out all of his frustration at the night’s events toward his attacker.

There was no way to dodge the actual attack, though he knew it was coming. Well, either that or his blade poised to stab the man was going to end this fight. Instead he felt himself pushed into the air and just allowed himself to go limp, as he felt the force stop pushing him he grabbed onto a ledge to stop himself and then jumped back down the two walls forming the alleyway, hoping from one to another until he was on the ground. Before his actions could be considered hostile he lay his pike flat on the ground and took to a knee. “Forgive me, M’lord. However after several… false leads I had to make sure you were who I thought you were.”

Marrik rose and engaged his lightsaber once more, his fury barely kept in check. He stepped forward, his grip on the hilt of his blade tightening, and his left arm came up, forming a grip of it’s own. Marrik groped for a moment with the Force, until he found the kneeling man’s neck, then he squeezed. Not enough to kill. Not yet.

”I ask again then.” Marrik veritably growled, ”Who are you?” As he spoke, he relented his grip just enough to allow the man to speak as well.

Alix grunted through the pain, the invisible force gripping his neck. It took all of his willpower not to move from his kneeling position and pull at his neck, he had seen this performed enough times however to know that it was a pointless effort. When it released he couldn’t help but take an audible gasp. “My name is Alix Raine, I am a Captain in his Royal Highnesses Guard, and an Acolyte of the Beyond.”

”His Highness? The Emperor is dead. What could bring one of his guards searching for me? And what is an Acolyte of the Beyond?” As curiosity began to blunt his fury, Marrik released Alix completely from his force grip, ”Be warned that if your answers are unsatisfactory, they will be the last words you speak.”

Alix moved his hand away from his pike, though kept it close enough to grab in a hurry. He wasn’t for it, but wouldn’t hesitate continuing hostilities should it be required. “The Emperor may live on, but he broke through the restraints of the Force and shall live on through it, through the Empire and through those that serve him. I search you, for you are Sith. The Sith deserve to be at the forefront of the galaxy, so is the belief of the Acolytes of the Beyond. For the Sith are the only ones capable of changing the currents of the Force, when Lord Vader and the Emperor perished aboard the Death Star the Empire was left without control, I was sent to find you so we could help you take your rightful place.”

Marrik said nothing for several moments. This seemed altogether too good to be true, and yet, here this man was, prostrate before him. Was there truly a group that remained loyal to Sith philosophy? Think of the possibilities. The potential resources. An excitement began to rise inside him, but he tempered it with his self-preserving skepticism.

[color=gold]”So The Emperor was Sith. I had my suspicions. Tell me, exactly how is it you would assist me in taking my rightful place, if what you say is true?”[/gold]

Alix nodded. “Master to Count Dooku, and then Lord Vader. Few in the Empire knew of Lord Vaders truth, even fewer about the truth about the Emperor. “ Alix moved slightly into an easier position to kneel in. The deal wasn’t done yet. “We have a ship, the Kaggath in orbit, it’s not as fancy as an Imperial Star Destroyer however it is enough, and the crew is loyal. We have connections to the Empire and those still loyal to the true Empire, and training.” He bowed his head, placing his neck in a more vulnerable position.

“Forgive me for saying M’Lord, however it seems you still have much to learn.”

Marrik, though still quite grumpy, was no fool. Though he had learned much in his three-or-so years under Tyrannus’ tutelage, he had far to go before he would be even close to his equal. He was gifted in The Force, this much was true, but it’s intricacies still eluded him, despite days spent pondering Sith relics alone. Even more, he had been capable of getting by on his limited knowledge of the Juyo and Makashi forms he had learned from his old master, but it was becoming painfully apparent that it would no longer suffice. He was now getting involved with very powerful individuals. He needed to learn what he could.

While it chafed to hear this man point out his lack-of-training, he had to give the man credit. He was certainly brave, to say something like that to a Sith. He was also clearly quite skilled with the blade. Marrik was sure that if he had been an ordinary Pau’an, he would have lost that duel. Happily, Marrik was not an ordinary Pau’an. He was Sith, the last of them remaining, as far as he was aware, and now, as he realized he was going to accept this group’s aid, he was not alone.

”Very well, Alix. I am Marrik, Last of the Sith Lords. Let’s see this ship of yours. It has been long since I had the pleasurable company of any allies of the Dark Side of the Force.”

Star Wars - Lawless Galaxy

Darth Marrik

Illos City, Night

Several figures stood silently at the end of a darkened dead-end alley, apparently waiting for someone or something. All were armed and armored save one, who wore the finery of the well-to-do. An obviously clandestine gathering, though none were there to bear witness. From the alley's entrance furthest the group, a cloaked figure rounded the corner and began it's approach. As the steady footsteps echoed down the stones of the alleyway, the lone figure spoke,

"You were to come alone." The figure stopped about twenty paces away from the group, and stood deathly still.

"I don't do deals in person without my bodyguards. Ignore them. They won't act without my word." The finely-dressed-man said, waving a ringed hand dismissively, "Now, if we're going to do business, I'd like a name."

"Marrik." The lone figure replied tersely, drawing back his hood. The Sith's face was half-covered by his visor, but his carnivorous teeth were fully visible. His ghastly visage gave the well-dressed-man pause, but only for a moment.

"Right then, Marrik. So, you wanted information, information that neither of us is comfortable discussing over the Holonet. Now we're here, so ask your questions. Each answer will cost you, though." The well-dressed-man's fingers trembled a bit in the anticipation of the conversation-to-come's monetary reward.

Marrik stood unmoving and silent, face unreadable behind his visor. He would not be paying this man for any information this night. For one thing, he had very little in the way of personal wealth at the moment, barely a credit to his name, but more than that he disliked this man. He found he could bring himself to hate this man, in his fetid opulence.

"You're fat." Marrik growled, and the well-dressed-man raised an eyebrow, "And you're weak. Bloated and decadent like the rest of the people in power in this backwater of the galaxy. You have information. You think that makes you powerful, that it gives you some advantage over me, but you're wrong." On "wrong" Marrik's arm slipped out from beneath his cloak, and he produced his lightsaber, engaging the main blade, and then the pommel exhaust. The armed guards drew their blasters from their holsters, leveling them at the Sith. Now that Marrik was closer, he had their count. Four armed humanoids, two on either side of the well-dressed-man. The man took a step back, allowing his bodyguards to step into a firing line in front of him. Marrik waited one more moment, gathering his building anger at the man's arrogance and weakness. The Sith stepped forward.

Blaster fire rang out, lighting the alleyway with red streaking flashes. One shot missed, careening further down the alley. Marrik smashed one back into it's shooter (the one on the far left) with his lightsaber, one struck him in his leg, and the other in his chest, and then he was on them, using the force to propel himself into their midst. The middle man of the remaining three he cut down instantly, his vicious strike nearly splitting the man's torso in half diagonally. He roared as he smashed the pommel-exhaust blade into the next one's face. The man got one more blaster shot off into Marrik's other shoulder and he hesitated to get his bearings. In his moment of pause, the last remaining bodyguard fired twice, both shots landing clean into Marriks abdomen. The Sith Lord staggered, his fury and pain rising to ever-greater heights. The man shot again, but this time Marrik batted the blast away, building his fury, feeling his rage form like a pit in his stomach, and travel up, through his free arm. The man shot once more, and the blast was again denied by Marrik's lightsaber.

Marrik roared and his left hand shot up, a stream of crackling energy, his rage made manifest, blew the last bodyguard into the wall, and lifted him high into the air, frying the man alive. When the light of his force lightning (as well as the life of the last bodyguard) had died, Marrik walked toward the well-dressed-man, a slight limp due to his leg injury giving his approach an even more dire and menacing look. The man moved to draw a side-arm, but Marrik shot forward with the force once-more, grabbing the man's arm in a firm grip, and cleanly slicing it off with his lightsaber, leaving only a cauterized stump. The well-dressed man, now covered in sweat, shrieked loudly and fell soundly onto his rump. He turned to his stomach and began to crawl desperately away, but was stopped by Marrik's heavy, booted foot landing hard on his back.

"Information," Marrik said through pain-gritted teeth, "Information is not power. Information is a tool to be used by those who already posses power. I am powerful. You are weak, and that is why you find yourself in this... predicament." He rolled the man onto his back with his booted foot, and activated his visors automatic removal, revealing his yellow-tinged eyes. "Now, you will give me all of the information you have on the Imperial Remnants in the area, as well as any other major factions and their resources. You will do this, and for every minute you refuse, I will remove another piece of you."

The man stammered for a moment, and then, through wracking sobs of pain, he answered the Sith Lord's questions.

Star Wars - Lawless Galaxy

Marrik

D A R T H M A R R I K

Species: Pau'an
Age: 98
Faction: The Sith (Currently Independent)
Equipment:

• Specialized combat-armor
• Unique double-bladed lightsaber, utilizing a yellow kyber-crystal. The crystal is cracked, causing the blade to appear serrated and unstable. The second blade on the saber is actually an exhaust-vent to assist in stability due to the use of the cracked crystal. The secondary "blade" is thus quite small, only about the length of a dagger.
• Badass cape
• Advanced helmet equipped with a techno-visor with a fully-integrated tactical H.U.D and several different filter options, including N.V. and thermal, as well as a retractable breathing apparatus for extreme environments.

Skills:

• Lightsaber Combat: Trained by Darth Tyrannus (one of the finest lightsaber duelists of the clone wars) in the use of the lightsaber, Darth Marrik is extremely proficient with a lightsaber. His preferred fighting style combines the intensity and offensive ferocity of Juyo (form VII) with the dueling-centered Makashi (form II) style. As such, he is particularly well-suited to battling melee combatants one-on-one.
• Force Wielder: As in the ways of lightsaber dueling, Count Dooku trained Marrik in the ways of the Force, and the powers of the Dark Side. Marrik foregoes the subtleties of the Force. No mind tricks or subterfuge here, his preference is to hurl objects about, choke the life from the weak, and fry his opponents alive with lightning from his fingertips.
• Ferocity: Marrik is a dangerous and violent combatant and a master of tactically utilizing his rage and passion. In the heat of combat, he is capable of fueling his body with his anger and, ensuring that he is very rarely winded in combat. This also allows him to nullify pain, ensuring that he will never yield in his relentless assault. A pure offensive force.
• Intimidating Presence: While untrained in the mind-tricks of the Force, Marrik often finds he has no use for them. As a Pau'an, he is already incredibly intimidating in appearance, and as a Sith, he radiates an aura of threat and intensity. Only the very dutiful, very brave, or very stupid stand in his way.

Weaknesses:

• Multiple Opponents: Marrik's combat style is geared to offense. He relies on his opponents being too overwhelmed by the sheer brutality of his assaults to counter or take advantage of any of his openings. This advantage is lost, however, when facing multiple opponents.
• Independence: While not necessarily a loner by nature, Marrik currently finds himself without allies. Though his ambitions burn, he has yet to gather any forces to the banner of his new Sith Empire.
• Off-putting demeanor/Appearance: The very same traits that allow Marrik to intimidate so successfully, are also what keep him from any sort of charm or coercion. He's certainly not pleasant on the eyes, and he is direct and terse.

History:

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The Dictator
Marrik (then known by another name) had a relatively ordinary Pau'an childhood, though his violent nature surfaced several times. When he inherited his role as the Administrator of one of the many Sinkhole-Cities of Utapau, his darker nature became clearer to those of the working-class beneath him. His sinkhole was managed with an iron fist, and although it was the cleanest, and had the lowest crime rate, the rest of the Pau'ans did not agree with the future Sith Lord's method of Administration. While he viewed the rest of his people as weaklings who squandered their place of power with their weakness, they viewed him as a brutal would-be despot. Though he had yet to do anything illegal, the other Pau'an Administrators moved against him politically to have him removed from power. Their campaign was succesful, a fact that filled Marrik with rage. In his exile, he lost his estates, his fortunes, and his power. He even lost his very last piece of fine jewelry to a Drunk Dug in a desperate gambling match.

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The CIS and Vengeance

When the CIS arrived on Utapau, in the middle-days of the Clone Wars, Marrik offered whatever help he could to Count Dooku himself, in return for the chance to bring low those who had stripped him of his rightful place of power. Dooku, recognizing in him a strength in the force, and a rage that was unusual for one of the ordinarily passive Pau'ans, gave Marrik a counter-offer. In return for his aid in securing Utapau as a secret space-port for use by the CIS, Dooku would show him how to attain a form of power that nobody would be able to take from him. So, Marrik used his knowledge of the workings of Pau'an society and politics (and military) to assist the CIS in ensuring the cooperation of the Administration. In return, Count Dooku revealed his Sith nature to the young Pau'an, and gave him the new Sith name of Marrik. Thus began his training.

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The Clone Wars

Dooku trained Marrik in secret, one of several apprentices the Sith lord had taken despite his own master's rules against it. Marrik's training was arduous and fraught with lethal danger, but he was a quick study. His rage and violent tendencies, which had been with him since childhood, though suppressed by Pau'an culture, were allowed and encouraged to flourish under Lord Tyrannus' tutelage. After being allowed to create his own lightsaber, Marrik was sent on several covert missions for his master, further enhancing his skills. It was on one such mission that the course of his life would change once more.

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Inevitable Betrayal

After a successful mission, Marrik intended to return to his master, but he received word that Lord Sidious, his Master's Master, had discovered the existence of another of Tyrannus' pupils, Asajj Ventress, and ordered her death. With few options left to him, Marrik fled into the outer rim. Alone, Marrik decided it was time to hunt for more knowledge of The Sith. He would find the power to return to his master, and kill the treacherous old fool. Then he would move on to Sidious himself.

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The Long Wait

In the closing days of The Clone Wars, and throughout the reign of Darths Sidious and Vader, Marrik remained hidden. In his wandering search for Knowledge of the Sith, he had learned of the Rule of Two, and the reason for the Emperor's decree. His old master Dooku had since been slain and replaced by Vader, at The Emperor's orchestration. Marrik suspected it was in part due to Tyranus' taking on of apprentices without sanction. Either way, he decided that he would remain hidden. He had no desire to face two Sith Lords, confident as he may be in his power. In the long years of imperial reign, he lived a life of self-imposed hardship, seeking difficult fights, and occasionally raiding Imperial digs for Sith artifacts and holocrons containing Sith secrets. All the while, he gradually gained power in his harsh solitude. As both a Pau'an and one skilled in the Dark Side, he knew that his lifespan would exceed that of The Emperor's, unless he had gained some secret mastery over the Force that Marrik was unaware of. And so, he girded himself, waiting, training, and growing stronger.

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Hutt Space
Marrik had not expected The Emperor's death to come by anyone's hand but his own. With Sidious' demise, years of plotting and exile had gone to waste. However, both Lords of the Sith were no more. As far as Marrik knew, he was now The Dark Lord of the Sith. He took some time acclimatizing himself to the goings-on in the galaxy, and decided that the power-vacuum in what was previously Hutt-controlled space offered the perfect opportunity to gather forces with which to conquer the galaxy anew, and reforge the Sith Empire in an image that was to his liking.

Star Wars - Lawless Galaxy

Well, Sep, long time no see. Also, we don't have any Sith Aspirants yet. How? May I fill this role, assuming I follow the rules?

Young Justice: Season One

Alright, my post is up.

Young Justice: Season One

Q U I C K L I N G

W E I S M A N S T R E E T M A L L

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^{July 3rd, 2020 | 3:31p.m. | Happy Harbour, Rhode Island}

As Superboy and the rest of the team engaged the Jokerz, Tachyus was just wrapping up evacuating the citizenry from the Kord Store. Just in time, he noted, as Chucko exploded into the store for a second time. Tachyus was standing at the emergency exit toward the back of the store, waving the last shopper through the door and into the mall's parking lot, where the police were already starting to form a perimeter. With his charges now relatively safe, he turned his gaze back toward the battle. Chucko was apparently out cold, so he surveyed further abroad. His eye caught Fenrir in trouble, with the hammer-welding brute Bonk standing above him and striking him repeatedly. Tachyus focused for a moment, allowing delving deep inside and pulling the proverbial lever that would open the gate to the Godspeed.

A thunderous rumble seemed to emanate from him, and an aura of shimmering golden light began to waft upwards off of the young demi-god. So focused was Quickling on helping Fenrir, that he hadn't noticed Chucko stir, and turn to look at him. With the Godspeed in full flow, Tachyus shot forward toward Fenrir with a thunderous boom. One step brought him halfway through the wrecked store, tearing up the linoleum tiles beneath him, the next would take him outdoors, where he could assist his teammate, who seemed to be in dire straights. Tachyus watched Bonk's hammer raise in slow motion (to him) and begin it's downward swing. He watched the hammer so intently that he hadn't noticed Chucko's arm reach out to trip him.

Suddenly, Tachyus' world spun end-over-end as he exploded violently through the wall of the Kord Store and into the streets outside where the battle raged. He dropped his staff in the tumultuous somersault, skipped off of the floor once, twice, and a third time, then was stopped hard against a wall on the opposite side of the fighting. He shook the disorientation from his head and looked back toward the Kord Store with a glare. What he saw made him smirk, despite the residual disorientation. Chucko sat holding the arm that he had used to trip the demi-god. It was pulled out-of-socket and hanging limply. That should teach the fat clown, Tachyus thought, rising to his feet. He looked to Fenrir, who much to his surprise, seemed to have turned the tables on his opponent, Bonk.

With Fenrir relatively safe, Tachyus took a moment to locate his staff. After a few seconds of searching, he saw it laying twenty-or-so feet away. The Godspeed was easy to reach, having opened the floodgates so recently, and so, clad in a golden aura, Quickling shot of to gather up his most precious belonging. With the staff in hand, he took a millisecond or two to survey the situation. Ghoul seemed the most unpredictable opponent, and perhaps the more intelligent of the bunch. Tachyus decided to take him out as swiftly as possible, in the hopes that he would be removing the Jokerz ace-in-the-hole. He rushed forward, a golden blur.

Luckily for Quickling, his being tripped-up by Chucko had him keeping an eye to the ground, which allowed him to spot (just in time) a pile of marbles spread onto the floor. Apparently he had been right to assume Ghoul was the brainier of the bunch. He must have dropped them when Chucko tripped me, the demi-god thought. Another tripping hazard, and Tachyus wasn't keen on a repeat of recent events, so he shoved his Caduceus staff into the tile floor and vaulted high, twisting to meet the Mall's cieling with his sandals at a run. The sheer speed kept him moving along the ceiling for a few paces, and he kicked off hard just above Ghoul, who was slowly attempting to follow the blur that was Tachyus. The demi-god landed with a knee in Ghoul's shoulder, smashing him to the ground almost instantly. He released the Godspeed and smirked down at the crumpled villain.


"You break way too easily, clown." Tachyus said with a smirk.

"Maybe," Ghoul replied through gritting teeth, "But the mind breaks even easier!" on "easier" the clown threw his good arm up toward Tachyus, and let fly a small knife. Tachyus had less than a second to react, he tried to summon the Godspeed, felt the floodgates crash open, and then felt the knife run home in his left shoulder. He yelped in pain, lost his concentration, lost his grasp of the Godspeed. His world went fuzzy and he staggered backward.

"See? All it took..." Ghoul wheezed through the pain of his own injuries, "Was a few chemicals slathered on a kitchen knife. To take down a god. I'm... not impressed." The clown braced his shoulder and took a step closer to Quickling, his wince becoming a wide smile as Tachyus eyes began darting left and right, not truly seeing anything. The symptom of the toxin the knife had been laced with.

Tachyus stumbled backward and fell, unable to regain his bearings, his equilibrium, his sense of direction. As his head hit the tiles of the floor, swimming from the poisoned knife, he tried to say "Help," but a moan of disorientation was all he could manage. He closed his eyes to stop the world from spinning, and lost consciousness.