Just a little oneshot I did. Had the urge to do so and try to get a little fan feedback. I plan to send a draft of the story with this antagonist in it in to Lucas Arts to see what they think. I call it Resurgence. No use of that name as I patented it. And if any of you think that because I'm Irish you can use it and get away with it if you live in America, be advised. Because it's under the Irish patent, its under IRISH JURISDICTION! I do Law in college just to let you know. Any way, I don't own Star Wars, or the Mandator II, but I do own the plot and the characters. Please review and let me know what you think of him. Suggestions of a name are appreciated. I already have a name, but inspiration would be useful. Frgive the rant too, I beg of you.
Four officers dressed in non descript grey and red armour approached the viewports of this Mandator-II class dreadnaught. In front of the viewport was a figure. It was he that they were approaching, he that they would have to report to. It didn't figure in their pathetic minds that he already knew what their responses were, what they would tell him, what his response would be. It didn't occur to them, with their limited understanding of the galaxy, that he would be harsh with them. They had been forced to obey, without question. And they would obey. They halted.
"My Lord."
"We bring news of our battles."
"Of our campaigns."
"We regret to inform you that we have failed."
They proceeded to inform him of all that had happened. No sound came from him, except that of steady breathing. Others would have been unnerved by this lack of response, but for those on the bridge, they noticed nothing. They had all been induced with the toxin, the Sith Alchemical substance that enabled their minds to be bent to his will. But for now, focus on the figure in front of the four men.
All we can see is his back, even that is coated by a black cape that undulates slowly in the air. Hanging from his shoulders to the middle of his calves the cape conceals, quite well, his durasteel grey, armoured torso and legs. At the bottom of the cape is merely his black, armoured boots. His flared black faceless helmet is blank, no motifs or signs of any kind.
"Total casualties, four battleships."
"Two frigates and a destroyer."
"Five thousand troops.
"Confirmation that the Justiciar lives. Four dozen dead by his hand."
"In total, net result, complete reversal in the system." The four answered as one.
There was no answer. A series of lists that he had no purpose in listening to, no need of hearing, only the net result was what was important. He was silent. The four remained until they were dismissed.
There was light, movement, sound, and the cessation of said movement. The Dark Lord was standing, right arm raised, his blue blade perpendicular to his body, legs spread, right foot in front of the other, left arm outstretched. Red mist cascaded around him. Slowly, and without a sound, the torsos of the four men slid sideways and toppled off the legs, which fell backwards! Before they had hit the ground, the Dark Lord whipped his lightsaber away and closed it down on is belt.
"No more failures." he said in a voice as emotionless as cold permacrete. He raised his head, with it's glowing red eyes and pale skin.
No one had even seen him move.
Like it, review and let me know. Like him, even better. I may put up a couple more tied to the same, featuring other characters, but let me know what you think.