Darth Armyss
Nobleman, Sith, and Womanizer
Do not allow your pain to hold you back...make it your strength...
These were the words that went through Albrecht's mind as he meditated in an empty hangar aboard the Pallaeon-Class Star Destroyer that had served as the One Sith fleet's flagship during the ill-fated attack on Carida. Since then, the fleet had retreated to Coruscant in case of a Republic counter-attack...and the acolyte was feeling more than just pain, although he did feel a lot of that, having only barely survived nearly getting shot down a second time in this war. This time, however, he hadn't walked away unscathed, having suffered some burns when his fighter caught fire upon returning to the hangar, but he had refused treatment with bacta, preferring to wear his wounds as a reminder of his struggles. On the bright side, it saved him the trouble of shaving to conform with naval regulations, as his facial hair had been singed off by the flames before he could climb out of the cockpit after his ejection seat failed to fire.
This wasn't what was on his mind at the moment, nor was he calm as he meditated, as much as the empty munitions crates levitating around him might suggest otherwise. Rather, he was a veritable maelstrom of rage. He had been powerless to prevent their defeat, but the Admiral in charge of the fleet hadn't been, having decided to call off the attack because it wasn't the same type of curbstomp that Coruscant was. Such cowardice disgusted the acolyte, and if he had his way, he would have beheaded the Admiral right then and there, but his master, [member="Darth Shara"], had forbidden him from doing so..."yet".
The last of those words had indicated that the Sith Lord had something in mind involving him and the hopefully soon to be executed Admiral, but at the time he hadn't been sure what...
A presence disrupted his focus as his eyes opened and the crates crashed loudly to the ground. He recognized the aura his master gave off in the force, and hurried stood up to make himself presentable for when Shara arrived at the hangar, presumably to assign him another training exercise of some sort.
These were the words that went through Albrecht's mind as he meditated in an empty hangar aboard the Pallaeon-Class Star Destroyer that had served as the One Sith fleet's flagship during the ill-fated attack on Carida. Since then, the fleet had retreated to Coruscant in case of a Republic counter-attack...and the acolyte was feeling more than just pain, although he did feel a lot of that, having only barely survived nearly getting shot down a second time in this war. This time, however, he hadn't walked away unscathed, having suffered some burns when his fighter caught fire upon returning to the hangar, but he had refused treatment with bacta, preferring to wear his wounds as a reminder of his struggles. On the bright side, it saved him the trouble of shaving to conform with naval regulations, as his facial hair had been singed off by the flames before he could climb out of the cockpit after his ejection seat failed to fire.
This wasn't what was on his mind at the moment, nor was he calm as he meditated, as much as the empty munitions crates levitating around him might suggest otherwise. Rather, he was a veritable maelstrom of rage. He had been powerless to prevent their defeat, but the Admiral in charge of the fleet hadn't been, having decided to call off the attack because it wasn't the same type of curbstomp that Coruscant was. Such cowardice disgusted the acolyte, and if he had his way, he would have beheaded the Admiral right then and there, but his master, [member="Darth Shara"], had forbidden him from doing so..."yet".
The last of those words had indicated that the Sith Lord had something in mind involving him and the hopefully soon to be executed Admiral, but at the time he hadn't been sure what...
A presence disrupted his focus as his eyes opened and the crates crashed loudly to the ground. He recognized the aura his master gave off in the force, and hurried stood up to make himself presentable for when Shara arrived at the hangar, presumably to assign him another training exercise of some sort.
