Aspirations

[Blazer3136]

What are your character's dreams, aspirations? What do they hope to happen, what victories or glories do they wish to achieve? Is it simply owning their own world, being rich beyond their wildest dreams, or having a lovely man or woman in their arms? Something they aspire to own, to have happen. This is the place to share such stories of dreams.
It was beyond glorious to him.

The Empire, crushed, the Republic at its greatest height. And now, Mandalore the Vindicated had died. A new Mandalore had been named, and he had united all of the clans. Warriors, who wore ancestral armor painted a variety of color that all spoke of the same position. Rallymaster. They all approached Mandalore, and when they left, it was in the shining golden armor of a Marshal.

Kruegen flexed the gauntlets, his heart soaring with pride and joy. No longer were his people enslaved to the Sith, and now their age-old enemy, their worthy foe, was ready. Ready for war, for glory, for death. He could hear the ancient chants in his ear, screaming of victory. The Old Crusades, basilisk war droids burning from the sky like bolts flung by a wrathful god, rode by the youngest and bravest of brothers and sisters.

The sheer glory alone of it made him pause. Made him forget where he was for a moment, before he came to the balcony of his new home. Cold winds blasting through, sending thick curtains waving. But the cold didn't bother him, and the pride, the joy, the feeling of home. All of it hit him, even with the loss of so many he deeply loved. And it brought him to tears, only what came next dwarfed such emotions.

They were rallied. Millions. In the distinctive blue armor, being prepared and trained for war in an organized fashion. Rallymasters yelling out directions and drill orders, campfires lit and tents pitched en masse. The smoke billowing from forges, churning out armor and weaponry for all who partook in this glorious war. Ships ascended and descended, bringing supplies and soldiers to and fro.

The banners waved in the wind, but to him he could hear the rallying cry of his brothers and sisters. He could hear the chanting, the yelling, the gunfire. The smells and sounds of glory, to him. And now, in his life, he simply let loose his joy. Tears flowed freely, his heart beating in his ears as nothing could lower his spirits.

They waged war again, not as fractured clans. But as one, unified and lead by one, like the days of old times. It just sounded so bizarre to him, yet the joy it brought him made him smile and cry with joy. They would bring their ages old enemy to their knees, they would finish the work of the ancient crusades.

And, again. Kruegen moved in his bed, shifting covers and pillows absently as he twirled, the lights of Coruscant flowing smoothly into his window. He awoke, and in that he felt the sadness of reality again. But he dreamed and aspired, and to him, such an aspiration was worth any wait.

[Lolermelon]

It is a wonderful day in the galaxy, under the watchful eye of our Chiss overlords. Taelios, for his valorous efforts in service of the Chiss Ascendancy, has been granted diplomatic immunity and a vacation resort, as well as the right to keep property previously earned.

The Pureblood sits, looking down on the final machinations of a victorious Ascendancy, having exhausted the might of both the Empire and the Republic, from The Fourth Wall, in orbit around Tython. Another sits in the Main Event, a Terminus Class Destroyer, watching similar happenings take place on Korriban.

He sighs contentedly, looking about at his newly granted Chiss crew, particularly of the female persuasion, and turns to flash Livia, his ever-present bodyguard, a winning smile. When he turns to look, however, she is no longer there...

He stirs, waking from this vivid dream. He looks about, and realizes he has no idea where he is... but there is snow. A lot of snow, and cold... and Chiss. He wraps himself in his coat and falls back to sleep.

[Brintte]

Fal covered her eyes from the sun's blinding light as she walked through the uneven terrain. The mountain side was clear of any sentient, with herds of herbivores grazing placidly, birds singing and flying in the sky and fish swimming in the streams and rivers. It was a new dawn, and she enjoyed the soft morning breeze that softly lapped her face. As she walked down her camp, she saw as a few small rodents played in the grass, peaceful and calm. There was no war, no battle to be won, no monsters hiding inside her mind. It was just her in nature, in the purest forest she could have encounter.

Sitting down by a stream, she took off her shoes and soaked her now bare feet on the refreshing water. As she lied down, looking up at the clouds, a smile appeared on the young alien's face.


The sunlight hit Fal through the medbay's window. Despite being offered a better room, she still returned every night to sleep in the cage the Jedi had put her in first. A sad smile appeared on her face as she thought of her dream.

[Audaine]

The mists of time settled out like an inky fog, occluding the world beyond her dreamscapes. The little visionary enjoyed her dream world, witnessing the most mystical beasts or curious events. Some events that happened to take place, or faces that she'd run into a day beyond...

The fog parted, revealing a mirror before her. It was the only feature in this empty landscape, seamless distances in every direction. Abethul's brow raised with interest, a curious object to witness in this bleak instance of reality. Dauntless, the Padawan approached the mirror to see what reflection would be cast.

It was herself, but adorned in thick robes, encompassing headgear. Behind her was the Custodum's Council--Master Farworlder, Master Corazon, Master Eswolyn and Master Qardaak. Each of them smiled to the Seer, who in turn smiled back at Abethul herself. "You will make a fine Jedi, Abethul. One day, you may lead them." The reflection murmured, her voice casting every essence of calm and understanding.

One day, her sight and sound would be a guiding light to the Jedi. Abethul could only hope she would do her fellow Jedi proud.

[Darshendros]

This was it. All of the pieces were in place. Four hundred years in the making. Finally, the Endgame. Reunion.

Darth Magius stood upon the pedestal, the dark holocrons upon the ancient stone pillars brimming with energy as they soaked in the spent lives of billions of sentients around the galaxy who had fallen victim to the renewed war between the Sith Empire and Galactic Republic, bloodier and more devastating than the previous one. Their voices cried out through the Force. He felt every single one of them before their energy was transferred into him and devoured by the darkness, each life increasing his power until his body was bursting at the seams. He could not stop the ritual though. He did not want to stop it.

"The time has come. Heed my call! Come to me!"

His voice reached out through space-time, his power amplified a thousand fold through the Force, sundering the barriers that separated this reality from others and calling upon other incarnations of himself, the shattered remnants of a once complete and magnificent soul. They heard his summons through the ether and answered it, for they too had prepared similar types of rituals to transmit their essences beyond space-time, coming together once again. Becoming one.

A pulse of energy erupted from Darth Magius, shattering his body into a cloud of crimson dust and crackling energy. The pillars split and crumbled as the holocrons atop them exploded, filling every crack and crevice with bright, devastating light. Within an instance, the dark temple on Kalakar VI was reduced to a smoking crater. The shockwave resulting from the explosion caused a chain reaction of multiple eruptions on the surface, sending rivers of molten lava to quickly fill the hole where the temple once stood. Moments later, out of the center of the swirling magma lake, a figure rose into the air, a blackened and burned husk, curled up with smoke rising from its dark and crusty form. Like a moth shedding its cocoon however, ashen layers cracked and fell away to reveal a luminous humanoid form with long, flowing white hair, fiery red eyes and dark, bat-like leathery wings. His hands and feet were razor sharp claws, legs jointed like a beast. He arched his back, craning his neck and looking at the sky, lips curled back in a fanged grin, laughing.

"At long last... I am whole again!"

Lava geysers erupted around him as his cackles echoed in the air, as if welcoming him back like a long-lost companion or hero. He was anything but a hero though. He was Darshendros the Eternal, the Dark Eternal, Devourer of Souls, Destroyer of Planets, the True Face of Death. Once a fallen Death God in another reality, now a pure conduit of the Dark Side the Force in this one, with literally unlimited power and as close to a god as any being can get, and he would have his revenge; on this universe, the next, and all reality, until nothing remained but the desiccated corpses of mortals and otherwise across the multiverse. And this isn't even his final form.

This is the dark secret that drives Darth Magius in everything he does. The dream he dares tell no one of, nor ever will, until it would be too late. To do otherwise would undermine everything he had been working towards since possessing Darius Arlo's broken body on Malachor V. Every piece moved is a step toward this magnificent goal, no matter how insignificant it seems; Reunion. Faith? Power? Conquest? These things no longer matter to him, he who had once grasped ultimate power, tasted and reveled in divinity, until it was torn away from him. Only death and destruction remain; of all life, of all existence. Once he has regained his true form, he will create that reality, and not even the Sith Emperor himself will be powerful enough to stop him.

There is no Force; only Death.