Causstik Rahn
Psycho
Causstik Rahn stared about the cityscape tentatively. He had thought to sack this jewel of a place once and it had cost him. He had lost almost the entirety of his army and fleet and now, now his holdings were reduced to one of the lowest levels of the city he had sought to destroy... His flagship was out there floating listlessly in the void of space around Coruscant. Only through it's vast array of stealth technology had the Irrlicht escaped the destruction of his ships. He smuggled supplies to and from it through a cadre of personnel still loyal to himself. He could scarcely manage to keep hold on this level. There simply weren't enough resources left down here.
His men longed for the hunt and they wished to once more stalk the stars. But they needed weapons, they needed credits, and above all they needed notoriety. Over the years Causstik and his warband had fallen into the annals of history, forgotten. Lost to the passage of time, but Causstik would not let this deter him. He would rebuild his army. He would grasp hold this universe and crush the life out of it until there was nothing left. Then when all was void, he would sit upon a throne of skulls as king.
But first, first he would need to rebuild. Rebuild his small gang into the army it once was. He would need to reeve the lower levels of this place, bend them to his will, let them know who was King. So, Causstik sent scouts out from level 1919 to the upper levels, and they returned. They returned with news of an up and comer. One who would turn this place into his own fiefdom. [member="Orex Mauda"] . Albeit he tended to disagree with slavers, but Causstik would make him see otherwise... He sent word to all and any who would here it
"Come, come and see what liess on level 1919," He growled into the device "Then we shall see who will bend the knee,"
Causstik's level was strewn with trash. Trandoshan's stalked from the shadows everywhere. Burning barrels and refuse the only illumination in this dank world. Anyone who dare venture into this place often found themselves enslaved to their new captors. However Causstik had ordered his men to stand down for now. So they watched from shanty shacks and abandoned buildings as the interlopers came. They were armed with weapons, but made no move to attack. All parted ways and would allow entrance to an old abandoned warehouse that was Causstik's palace.
Inside were dim yellow lights. Trandoshans in power armor sat atop catwalks, while the king himself sat in a makeshift throne, of rusted metal and bone.
His men longed for the hunt and they wished to once more stalk the stars. But they needed weapons, they needed credits, and above all they needed notoriety. Over the years Causstik and his warband had fallen into the annals of history, forgotten. Lost to the passage of time, but Causstik would not let this deter him. He would rebuild his army. He would grasp hold this universe and crush the life out of it until there was nothing left. Then when all was void, he would sit upon a throne of skulls as king.
But first, first he would need to rebuild. Rebuild his small gang into the army it once was. He would need to reeve the lower levels of this place, bend them to his will, let them know who was King. So, Causstik sent scouts out from level 1919 to the upper levels, and they returned. They returned with news of an up and comer. One who would turn this place into his own fiefdom. [member="Orex Mauda"] . Albeit he tended to disagree with slavers, but Causstik would make him see otherwise... He sent word to all and any who would here it
"Come, come and see what liess on level 1919," He growled into the device "Then we shall see who will bend the knee,"
Causstik's level was strewn with trash. Trandoshan's stalked from the shadows everywhere. Burning barrels and refuse the only illumination in this dank world. Anyone who dare venture into this place often found themselves enslaved to their new captors. However Causstik had ordered his men to stand down for now. So they watched from shanty shacks and abandoned buildings as the interlopers came. They were armed with weapons, but made no move to attack. All parted ways and would allow entrance to an old abandoned warehouse that was Causstik's palace.
Inside were dim yellow lights. Trandoshans in power armor sat atop catwalks, while the king himself sat in a makeshift throne, of rusted metal and bone.