Forging Iron: The Combined Stories of Darth Feros

[DarthFeros]

I'm going to post this thread to help explain some things and tie up some loose ends via one shots, and possibly a few combos. But it's contents should eventually answer any questions about the continuity of Darth Feros.

 

[DarthFeros]

Razing The Lies


Feros has always been taught of the lies of the Jedi. He had been taught to hate them, and he had revelled in that hate. The Jedi had taught against the nature of things. Against the nature of the Force itself. No more.

The plan had been wonderful. The attack was lightning fast and multipronged, with all the goals meant to be met at roughly the same time. The main prongs, though, were the Senate and the Temple. Hesper had been given the Senate, and he, the Jedi. Feros had wanted the Jedi.

The Temple had been easy enough to get into with the troops they had brought. Thousands of troopers pouring onto the grounds, like a heavy storm from the skies of Dromund Kaas. They had laid waste to the Guards and many of the Padawans charged to stem the tide. It had done little to help.

Feros had all but gorged himself on the suffering, devouring the pain and anguish that flowed forth like an unbroken current. His sabers, like an artist's brushes, painted the scene he had played in his head for decades. With each Padawan or Knight whose flesh rended to his blades, he came closer and closer. His objective, though, was not done until they were all dead.



Rasi Tuum had felt the danger coming, like a great looming storm, creeping closer and closer before breaking. He knew there could only be one reason. He'd felt it before. He immediately set the Contingency in motion. "Kaleeya," He said to a young Kifar female knight, "Get all the younglings on ships. One knight or Master among each ship. Start the evacuation and wait for my order to launch."

He hadn't expected the day to begin like this. But that didn't matter. The children. That's what mattered. The future. He called through his comm link. "This is Master Tuum. Activate Contingency Zeta. Defend the Temple." Suddenly, the krumph of an explosion shook the walls, nearly knocking him from his feet. He knew he had to get to the one spot where he could hold them. The one room that would funnel them between the Atrium and the Hangers. The Room of a Thousand Fountains.



His path to the Atrium hadn't taken long. It had, however, exploded into a massive battle. Sabers crackling together and the air heavy with the smell of burned ozone. But this was not the time of Malgus. No ship had been flown into the Temple. Nor was it the days of Feros' distant Grandfather, with only one man butchering away. The Jedi had known it was coming. The Lord had ridden into the system aboard the Hand, which had orders to allow any Alliance or Jedi ships to breach the atmosphere, and then turn them to space debris with the turbolaser batteries. He knew some would escape. But they would be hunted like dogs.

Feros let out an animal bellow and slammed one of his lightsabers into the chest of the Falleen Jedi fighting him, the other deflecting blaster bolts the Alliance guards had fired, sending them back to origin. A Togruta male and Quarren female were circling him, awaiting an angle. They rushed him, both attacking from different sides. His sabers batted theirs away, and he bounded into the air, inverting and twirling as he went, and as he landed, their bodies bisected and hit the floor almost in unison.



Rasi ran as fast as he could. The very foundation of the building was shaking, but he rooted himself to the stones with the Force and pushed on, his powerful Cathar legs propelling him on. The room itself was splendid. It had always been a place of peace and tranquility for Tuum. He had even meditated here to seek guidance from the Force.

Today, though, it would be a place of anger, and terrible violence, and bold determination. He entered the room and moved to the center, or as near center as he could make out. There, he knelt to meditate once more among the Fountains, and center his mind.



Everything would be falling into place soon. Scourge Squad, who had been landed in secret lower on the Temple, would have their mission done soon, and would be moving on to find Gar Stazi, the pompous Duros Admiral. Feros had heard of his stalwart dedication to the resisting of the One Sith. Scourge would make quick work of him. They were, after all, the best the Empire had for that sort of thing.

Right now, Feros was on a personal mission of his own. He had been searching for a familiar presence in the Force, and had not felt it. Not here anyway. But he had felt a strong one from deeper in the Temple. This would be the Master coordinating the defense and evacuation. That was where he would go. The ploy was working. Feros could feel he was alone.

Two more Jedi stood in his way. A Human and Sullestan, both of them male. Feros strode towards them, extinguishing the lightsaber in his left hand and extending it in front of him. His hand crackled, and then a furious torrent of Red-Violet lightning erupted from his fingertips. The two Jedi Knights tried to defend themselves, but it was no use. Feros inhaled the scent of charred flesh as he walked past the blackened, skeletal corpses.



Tuum felt him coming. He stood and opened his eyes, and looked across the room at Darth Feros. Rasi had never seen the man, but he looked familiar somehow. His features could have been called handsome, if they weren't distorted into a mask of hatred and utter disdain. He was a hulking man, for a human, almost 2 meters tall, and well muscled. The Cathar palmed his lightsaber hilt, and started to speak. He just needed time.

"You won't get past me. I cannot let that happen, Sith." Rasi called to Feros.

"I don't think you're in any position to tell me where I can or cannot go, Master Tuum." Feros said with a wicked smirk. He knew of Master Rasi Tuum, one of the Jedi pivotal in the defeat of the One Sith. His master, Darth Maladi, had mentioned Tuum in stories before, and Feros had studied all the Masters of the High Council before the assault.

"Fitting they should leave you here, while they all attempt to flee with the younglings, Master Tuum. Since you left your padawan to fall to the wayside all those years ago." Feros taunted, his lightsaber hilts idle in his hands.

"The Force guided her to her destiny, as it did me to mine." The Cathar said. "Now, I do not want to kill you. I take no pleasure in the act of killing, Sith. But I cannot let you leave after what you have done today." His lightsaber snap-hissed to life, the blade casting a pale azure glow through the waters of the Fountains.

Feros ignited his in turn, the blades bathing him in a deep crimson. He smiled and inclined his head, and then flew across the room, his blades crashing into Tuum's. The two Force users, Masters of their respective aspects, turned into what the interceptor squadrons would call a "Furball," with blue and red blades clashing and whirring at a speed any normal being wouldn't even be able to discern. Tuum fainted left and spun, nearly missing Feros' wrist. It was close enough to welt the flesh, even. Feros relished it.

He had not had a duel this intense and meaningful in some time, and this was always where he felt at his best. Nevermind the fact that he was toying with the poor Jedi Master. He locked blades with Rasi, and jerked his head forward, as if to headbutt the Cathar, sending him reeling backwards with a Force Push. But Tuum, ever light on his feet, landed feet-down, and pounced back into the fight, throwing his saber at Feros, and catching the deflected weapon in midair before dropping a powerful two-handed overhead strike. Feros parried with his left Saber, and spun to bisect the Jedi with his right.

Rasi Tuum jumped at the last second, but the end of his tail didn't quite make it. He hissed in pain, but shut it down and landed, throwing a massive force push at Feros. Feros tried to deflect it, but was sent careening through the waters and spurts of the Fountains, crashing into the wall. As he flew, however, his comm unit buzzed in his ear with the words he had been waiting on. "Conditions set, Lord Feros. At your command." It was Scourge, who had snuck into the electronics and sabotaged the door mechanisms for the Hangers. When they hit the remote activator, the mechanisms would be sliced and locked closed, sealing the Jedi Hanger Bays. It would cut off their only escape.

Tuum waited. He knew he hadn't killed the Sith. Probably he had not even injured him. But he wasn't going to run to battle. That was death. And this Sith was powerful. But he was not afraid. The will of the Force would be done. Just then his comm link chirped. It was Kaleeya. "Master Tuum," she breathed, "we are ready." He pressed the button on his comm link and said one word. "Go."



Kaleeya Fasan heard Master Tuum's command. She opened the command channel in the Hangar bays. "All ships launch. Waves offset by one minute each. Scatter as soon as you're up." She said, and then killed the channel and started running to her ship, packed with younglings and young Padawans.



Feros smiled as he stood and wiped some blood from his lip, checking his wrist. The Cathar welp actually had clipped him! He chuckled softly. Good. "One minute. And then close them." He said into his comm. He jumped back to the center of the room and stalked towards Rasi Tuum, who stood waiting for him. "Shall we finish this game, Master Tuum? Or do you want to play some more? I've been rather enjoying myself."



Kaleeya watched the first ships depart. A wave of 15 passenger shuttles carrying random numbers of Jedi. "We'll find one another and rebuild." She told herself. "We have to." She couldn't think about it now. She had to go. She had 150 young Jedi to protect herself. She fired the engines on her shuttle and started preflight checks. She looked up as Wave Two lifted to take off. And then all the Hanger doors slammed closed just as the ships were headed out. Some were cleaved in two, and some crashed into the doors. She felt them all die. She screamed out, "Nooo!" But it did nothing.



Rasi Tuum stayed silent. Feros had expected no less. He didn't seem like one who would rise to taunting. Feros smiled again and lunged at him, closing the gap and crossing blades once more. He stabbed, and Tuum slapped his blade away. He started slashing with both blades, battering Master Tuum's withering defenses with colossal blows. Left, left, right, left. Tuum was heaving. Feros was awash in the Dark Side. And then his comm chirped again. "Doors closed, Lord Feros. Just as the second wave was leaving. They won't get them up without some serious equipment. Scourge, continuing mission." And Feros had done it.



The Sith Lord turned into a tempest of crimson blades, punishing Master Rasi Tuum for every existing. His blades moving totally independently from one another. A slash from the left, a block, the right blade piercing a leg. Tuum howled in pain, but stayed standing. A thrust high and right, a parry, and his left blade clipped Rasi's ribcage, a 2cm deep, 5cm long gash. Feros spun with the slash and posted, planting his legs. He smiled as the Cathar's face changed, feeling the sudden loss of life. He lunged forward, both sabers coming around and up to deliver from in high, and Master Rasi Tuum moved his blade high and across to catch and lock the Sith's.



Time seemed to slow. Feros saw the blue blade go up, and his come down in red streaks. He smiled across wickedly at Tuum, his eyes going wide with the smile, just as he hit the activator switches twice, rapidly, on his hilts. The blades extinguished just above the Blue Saber, and reappearing a half-breath later just below it. Feros flicked his wrists, and rode the flick into crossing his arms, the blades not slowing as they bit and seared through hair, flesh, tooth, and bone.


Rasi Tuum, at the moment of his death, had been holding his head oddly. He had tucked his chin, for some kriffing reason, and it made for a rather gruesome kill. Darth Feros' sabers had cleaved through the outer neck, and across the jaw, bisected the head itself just under the nose. Tuum's dreaded hair ends fell away, and the top portion did as well. His lower jaw stayed attached to his neck, but only on one side, and his tongue, which had survived, though badly charred, rolled out from his neck as his body hit the floor. Feros was even impressed at the macabre scene. The nearly-headless Jedi Master's body sprawled, still-attached tongue hanging from the blood-oozing neck, jaw hanging to one side.


Feros extinguished his lightsabers and clipped them to his belt. "Finish killing whoever is left and get out of the Temple. We're done here." He said into his comm link.



An hour later, Feros stood in the door of a drop ship, looking over the Temple. They had slaughtered all the Jedi but those left in the Hangars. He pressed the button on his comm link. "Direct all weapons at the Jedi Temple, and fire at will." The weapons officers on the Hand would send the full might of the world-ship. It took less than a minute. His officers must have been anticipating the order. The first impacts shattered the dome and the walkway in a splendid burst of red light. Then the concussion missiles hit.



It had been an hour since the doors had fallen and locked them in. Every door in the Hangar, including the blast doors, had fallen closed. And they couldn't get any of them open. Kaleeya Fasan refused, however, to give up hope. She cursed softly that the only Masters among them had been in the first and second waves, most of them killed during the calamity of the Hanger locking down. They had tried cutting them open, but the Order had reinforced them against lightsabers and blast weapons with Beskar. This also made them heavy, and nearly impossible to lift with the Force. Their last effort would be a group attempt. All the Knights gathered, reaching out, trying to lift. And then the building shook, and the ceiling started to collapse.



It was ordered to be a six standard hour barrage, alternating batteries to keep from overloading the cannon aboard the Hand of Iron. Feros watched the whole thing in an awestruck silence as the weapons vaporized all that was left of the Jedi Order. It isn't everyday that one realizes a lifelong dream. Feros' chest felt like it might burst. He felt them die. The Knights. The Padawans. The younglings, some no more than toddlers. All dead, vaporized and buried beneath the rubble. He'd gotten word that Lady Hesper had accomplished her mission as well. And alone, no less. She had butchered the entire Senate with her own hands. This was a proud day for the Sith. They had razed Coruscant. And with it, the Jedi, and their millenia of Lies.

 

[DarthFeros]

A Dragon is Reborn





"Was this how Malgus felt?" Feros wondered to himself. "No. He failed. The Jedi survived, and in great number. Feros was still cursing himself for the wave of shuttles that had escaped. It wouldn't matter, though. They'd hunt them down. All of them this time. He looked on at the Temple, now nothing but a crater of slag and shattered stone. Their plan had worked. The Senators were all dead. The Jedi Temple had been wiped from existence. Thousands laid dead in the rubble. But he still felt it wasn't complete. Somewhere among the thousands of systems, a Jedi still wore his likeness. Minus some of the scars, of course, and the cybernetic eye. An enduring gift from the vile Darth Insipid. But as long as his twin brother survived, Feros would not feel complete in his quest.


He shoved the thought from his mind and turned to the pilot. "Take me back to the Hand." He barked at the Officer, clad in her shiny black flight suit and full seal helmet.

"Yes, My Lord. It may take some time. Captain Venteloan has moved the Hand on the other side of Coruscant Prime." She replied.

Feros heard her, and his mind slipped to Nateerani Venteloan. She was a genius, tactically. Easily the best naval commander Feros had ever met. And she was loyal, almost fanatically. If she had moved the Hand, she had a damned good reason.

"That's fine. Just take us home. I need to do some things, and send up my official report." Feros growled. The "things," He needed to do were commune with Sheneera and meditate in his temple aboard the Hand.

Something wasn't right. He could feel that. This should have felt far greater than it did. He'd decimated the Jedi Order, and razed the Temple to an extent the Vong hadn't even accomplished. So why, then, did he feel utterly disappointed?

"Lord Feros, we're about to break the atmosphere." The pilot said. The door hissed closed on their tracks, and Feros could feel the cabin pressurize, and the life support systems come on as the shuttle bucked slightly, escaping into the vacuum of space. It wouldn't take long before they'd be around Coruscant Prime, and then back at the Hand. He could already feel her calling to him, an oddly melodic sing-sing voice in the back of his mind. Sheneera's enchanting had worked, he'd seen. Much like the Sith Meditation Spheres of old, the Hand was now sentient, in her own way.

They were nearing Coruscant Prime now. Even with the temperature regulation, Feros swore he could feel the heat rising. But, no, that couldn't be right. They weren't that close. "Stop the shuttle. Right now." He barked at the pilot.

"Yes, my Lord. But, there are still Federation Fighter squadrons in the area. We could… ccraaccckkk." She stopped back-talking instantly as Feros' hand snapped sharply in a circular motion, and her helmeted head spun 180° on her shoulders.

He lowered her body to the side, taking care to keep her from bumping the controls. He laid her on the floor, and then sat and meditated, letting himself feel the energy that was here. And he discovered quickly that this spot was awash in the Dark Side. It was strong here. Not quite a Nexus, but close to it. Very close. Feros had to know more, and he knew how to do just that.

He relaxed himself, expanding his awareness and focusing on the current of the Force. Seeing the flow of time. And he allowed himself to slip into it. He had been flow walking for some time now, having learned while on an expedition to trace his great grandfather's footsteps. He just had to find the right time. There! There it was, and it didn't feel all that long ago. Feros understood when he saw the scene.



He was taunting the boy. He could do it anytime he liked. He could take his body and crush his whole spirit. Cade Skywalker was not nearly as powerful as he assumed himself to be. Especially not when it came to his power of will.

"Perhaps I'll take your body. Use it to accomplish my goals. How would you enjoy that, Cade?" He said. He could tell he was getting under the boy's skin now. Good. He'd need him weak and angry for this.



Feros saw a young man with wavy blonde hair and tattoos. He knew that face. Especially the slender, button tipped nose. He knew it because the same nose sat on his face. It had come from a woman considered to be the matriarch of the family; Padme Amidalla.

So this man had to be a Skywalker. Cade most likely, though Feros had never met him. And he could see someone else too. A shimmering presence, seeming to float behind Cade. Tall and broad, with a long braid down the back of his head. He was taunting Cade. Feros could hear the conversation. He also saw a body on the floor, garbed in red and black and silver, with tattoos covering his face. Feros had seen pictures. He knew who it was. And it all fell into place. He understood why this place had such a strong Dark Side energy.



"Destroy my body if you wish! But I will live on, through you! Andeddu and Muur taught me the art of Essence Transfer!" He said, more animatedly than before. He laughed into Cade's ear. And then the boy spoke.

"Not if I go in with you."

Surely he wasn't going to kill himself, too? Was he that insanely devoted to his destiny all of a sudden? The same boy that had nearly killed himself with death sticks to run from the same destiny? It didn't matter. He needed to take Cade's body now. And then he felt another presence wink into existence, and turned to see.



Feros listened. It was a good strategy. Anger him. Make him weak with his own rage and hate, and then take him. But it didn't seem like Cade was biting. He was talking about flying the ship into the sun himself. Killing himself, destroying his own body along with the one on the deck. Feros could feel the apparition change in the Force. He turned around and looked Feros in the eyes, and then disappeared, and Feros' whole world exploded in pain.



It was an odd sensation, fighting for a body. The one he had chosen had a strong will. Feros, he now knew him to be called. Somehow, Feros had walked through time in the current of the Force to watch the exchange between Cade and himself. Now they were back in Feros' time it seemed, though he wasn't sure if he had always been. Time worked differently beyond the shadows.

There was a battle going on inside his head, and Feros was losing. The attack on the Temple had taken a toll on him, as had the duel with Rasi Tuum, the Cathar Jedi Master, in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. His will was diminishing. But he knew what would happen if he gave up, and he wasn't finished yet.



He was breaking the man down with his own will. "Your body is going to be mine whether you fight or not. Give it up. My goals are infinitely more important than you can imagine." He said.

"Go back to hell." Feros bellowed. "I know your goals. They've already been achieved. Just not by you. You're useless and outdated here."

"Well then it should be easier for me then." He said, and pressed hard on Feros' mind. But he was starting to slip as well. He couldn't let this fail! He was too close! And then, like flipping a switch, it was over.



He awoke and opened his eyes, squinting at the light. It was brighter than he remembered. He stood and brought his hands up, turning his eyes to them and flexing his fingers. A wicked smile creased his lips. He was back.

He moved to the front of the shuttle, stepping over the body of the dead pilot, and checked the navigation systems. It had a course set already. He strapped in behind the controls and followed it, skirting Coruscant Prime.

When he rounded the other side, his eyes widened in amazement. The course was set for a ship, but it was the size of a small planet. It was massive. And from the memories he'd plucked out of Feros' mind, it was now his ship. "Good." He thought. "We'll need that in the coming days. He guided the shuttle into the landing bay and set it down, lowering the back boarding ramp and strolling down it, stretching the legs that now belonged to him.

As he walked past, troopers and air crews came to attention and pressed a fist to their heart, saluting the man they thought was still a Sith Lord in their Empire.

"My Lord."
"Lord Feros."
"Hail, my Lord."

He didn't speak. He wondered amusedly what they would think when they heard his voice, absent the slight lilt of a Hapan accent the man generally sported. It didn't matter. They wouldn't ask questions. He boarded a small transportation capsule, and it rocketed off towards the bridge.


"Hail, Lord Feros!" Captain Venteloan said, pressing a first to her chest. Nateerani had been awaiting Feros' return eagerly, dying to hear about the operation on the surface. She had hoped he had in some way recorded the bombardment on holo. But she wasn't about to ask. "How was the mission on the ground, My Lord? I trust everything went according to plan? The surveyor droids reported that even the under tunnels of the Temple were collapsed. It seems we achieved all mission parameters."

"Yes, so it would seem." Came his reply. It was off though. Something about him didn't sound right. There was no hint of an accent to his rich voice. It was simply flat. Her brow furrowed in confusion, and her head tilted oddly.

"Something wrong Captain?" He asked, glaring at her sidelong with one eye, the brow raised, as if in a challenge. She was an attractive woman, seeming to be in her early thirties, with long, porcelain white hair and rich scarlet skin. "A Zeltron, or half-zeltron anyway." He thought to himself.

"Who are you? What have you done with Lord Feros?" She asked quietly, her hand snaking down to wrap around the grip of a holstered blaster pistol. "Choose your next words wisely, imposter." Nateerani actually meant what she said. She wasn't afraid at all.

"Captain, take your hand off that little toy, would you?" He said as softly as she had. "I'd hate for things to get messy on such a wonderfully efficient bridge." He was now turned towards her, facing her full on, his face as flat as his voice, save for the slight hint of a grin at the corner of his mouth.

"You have this." She told herself. Nateerani knew she was fast and dangerous with her pistol. She practiced daily to make sure she stayed that way. She drew and fired. Or at least she thought she did. But before she realized she hadn't, her blaster was sliding across the deck, and she was suspended in mid air. Her eyes widened with fear.

"I warned you, Captain." He said, his voice now louder. The whole bridge had stopped, and was staring at the two of them. "Good." The Dragon thought. "This should help set an example. Or I'll need a new crew. Either way." His hand was extended in front of him, fingers spread open. As he started to speak, she started to scream.

Nateerani Venteloan was perplexed at what had happened. She couldn't understand why Lord Feros would do this. But, was this Lord Feros? He certainly had Feros' power. But, it couldn't be.

"Communications," He said, looking at the young Duros behind the station, "broadcast this throughout the ship." The young officer did as he commanded, and he started to speak, slowly, anunciating well so he wouldn't be misunderstood.

"Lord Feros," He began, "is no longer here. He was sadly killed above Coruscant. My name is Darth Krayt. I am the Dragon, the true Emperor of this Galaxy. And everything that this man owned, including his body, now belongs to me." He looked at Captain Venteloan and cracked into a wicked, predatory smile. "Allow me to show you what will happen if anyone should try to deprive me of what is mine." As every holoprojector on the ship shimmered into life, showing the scene playing out on the bridge, Darth Krayt, his eyes wide and wild, started to slowly ball his hand into a fist.

Captain Venteloan couldn't begin to describe the pain. She could only scream as her insides started to writhe inside her. It felt like her very molecules were fighting one another for space, like everything inside her was trying to rip its way out, in any way it could. She screamed until her vocal cords tore. She kept trying, with only a wretched, hoarse rasp escaping her throat. And then her world went black.

The scene was spectacular. When she exploded, the whole of the room was painted in a crimson coating, with bits of entrails and viscera speckled about here and there. Some of the blood spattered across Krayt's face in a diagonal retinue of gore, and he lifted his head towards the ceiling, revelling in the stark terror engulfing the room.

The comms officer gasped and vomited, expelling the contents of his stomach all over his control board. Krayt's head lobbed over to the side, to look at the man. His hand came up, and formed a first again, and the Duros' neck collapsed on itself, as though an invisible hand had wrapped around it and squeezed it like a tube of sustenance paste. He fell clutching his throat, frothy blood bubbling up from his lips.

Nazat Barr had watched the whole scene. He was second officer, and it was his duty to protect the crew now. But he couldn't care less about the crew. This man was powerful. And he could help Nazat. He knelt down on one knee, bowing his head and pressing a hand to his chest. "All Hail Darth Krayt, the Dragon, Reborn." All around him, the crew followed suit. And Krayt's predatory grin broke into a full faced, wickedly toothy smile.