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His Lead Coffin
About this creation


In a galaxy far, far away, the year is 141 ABY, technically dropping this tale in the Legacy Era while Cade Skywalker still gallivants about and Darth Nihl hides for fear of the Jedi, the Galactic Alliance, and Empress Fel. The immortal wants to exterminate the Sith. They killed his heroine in the Great War in the 3,600s BBY, plunging him into a century of disillusion and drunkenness. Kaan and his Brotherhood of Darkness beat him to the edge of life after the Third Battle of Ruusan. Darth Sidious’ new Empire strip mining his planet, killed his wife, and forced him into Imperial service for the next three decades. And then Jacen Solo became Darth Caedus, and two entirely unknown Sith factions emerged, toppling the Galactic Alliance and driving the Fel Empire into exile. While the military buildup increased the value of the immortal’s shares in Kuat Drive Yards, he will not see history repeat itself again. Now, whether allied with Jedi or Imperials or alone as a homicidal trillionaire, he will exterminate the Sith.

He knows Sith history, how Korriban, Ziost, and Druumund Kaas seem to generate new waves of darksiders. He is almost old enough to remember the Krath, founded with a few Sith amulets and books. He was a boy when Malachor V seduced Jedi during the Mandalorian Wars, and he knows that Darth Bane learned from Revan’s holocron. The immortal is presently hoping to destroy ancient Sith worlds. He wishes the Death Star were still around. Until he can annihilate Sith worlds, he must content himself with tracking down and destroying Sith relics. A brooch could mean the triumph of the Dark Side.

One “archaeologist,” the Rodian Greed Paz, calls in from a site in the mineral flats of Ambria.

Among the crumbling sandstone outcroppings, he found what he calls an a pre-Ragnos mausoleum, its doors sealed. From Kuat, the immortal climbs aboard his re-commissioned antique, a Virpine-built Trakaad, arms the proton bombs, and engages the hyperdrive. The ship, presently flying under the moniker Lead Coffin, lumbers through hyperspace. When it emerges near Ambria, his copilot reports a transmission. Greed’s coworker, Kuiber Yun has vanished. The transmission is ten hours old. A second transmission, sent two hours later, reports that Kuiper, the descendant of a Clone Wars-era Jedi, has broken into the mausoleum alone. The transmission ends with Greed commenting on Kuiper’s impatience and desire to prove himself. And mention of a bad feeling.

The immortal curses. He hasn’t received these calls because the Coffin was in hyperspace. When will he get around to installing a faster drive? “Miriam,” he says to the copilot, “arm the primary turbo lasers. We’re going to disable Greed’s ship before we set down.”
“You’re frowning, sir,” she says, complying, “more than you have since Nihl disappeared.”


The Coffin moans as it settled onto the chalks and sandstones. The mausoleum’s four clicks southwest.


The immortal stares at his fists until she tells him, “Sir, there’s a Rodian corpse outside. Do you want me to stay aboard?”

He sits several minutes longer, head bowed. He shakes it, pulls his cloak off the chair back and makes for the armory. Miriam follows.
It’s Greed, decapitated by a serrated blade, disarmed, blasters lying in the dust. The immortal picks up his employee’s spiny cranium.
A death’s head, no more hideous because of the reek of pheromones. He chuckles. Does he smell so bad every time he dies? The human looks in the direction the blasters had pointed. No footprints save Greed’s. A sword—not a vibroblade by the cut—manipulated mid-throw by telekinesis. No sophisticated culture has preferred dead blades since Naga Sadow died. “Miriam, back in the Coffin. Miriam!”
And the dark figure is too close, ancient Sith amulet and war crown glistening on his body, a scroll clamped in one fist and thick sword in the other.
Somehow, the immortal knows what the freak wants: a ship off-world. “Over my dead body,” he yells at the silhouette. The silhouette drops the scroll and plants a foot forward.
“That seems to be his idea,” Miriam quips. She levels her pistol and draws her sword. “Good,” the immortal grins. He shoulders the Merson PLX and fires four rockets in rapid succession. The silhouette raises his right hand, bouncing the first two into the red sky and the second pair toward his foes. Missiles explode mid-flight, Miriam’s shooting.

“You think to kill, fools?” the Sith rumbled. “I am the life from death and death to life. I—.”
“Will crush yourself under a fire breather for some girl? You know that happened to your great grand daddy, don’t you?” the immortal yells, drawing his melee weapons.
“No,” he rumbles, “I will crush you.” The silhouette springs, crashes down before them, false fire blazing round his fist.
They clash.





The Sith blocks Miriam’s shots, infests her head with visions of endless torture, and sends her reeling backwards.
Soon her sword is his as he matches blades with the immortal.
Visions of his wives’ dying stifle the immortal’s mind.



He doesn’t feel the air leave his lungs as he falls to the dust.

All his strength is needed to slam closed his psychic defense against the Sith’s powers. He makes it to his knees before the Sith redoubles the assault.


Through his own scream, he hears the bark of a repeating laser.


The sound is enough. He regains his senses in time to see the Sith, palm outward, sending the bolts back into the Coffin’s auto-turret.

Aleema and Ulic and Exar Kun all over again, the immortal thinks. Tavion again. Caedus or Krayt again. Not on my watch. The turret is slag. And then his sword is buried in the Sith’s abdomen and his lightsaber swings in to end this, like Windu should have ended it.


The Sith parries his crackling blade, shoves it aside, buries another blade in the immortal’s gut, force-flings him back. The immortal feels his vitality sapped by some Sith magic, probably his enemy healing himself.














There would be blood for this.

The Lead Coffin roars into the setting sun as Miriam pulls herself up, shaking. She grips her blaster, scans the eroded hillocks and bushes for remaining danger, then staggers to the wounded man.
He smiles up at her, and the sweat beads in his stubble. “Next time, it’s stealth fields and ysalimari and amphistaffs. We take the Merson to the mausoleum, and we blow the kark out of everything. Then we fix Greed’s comm unit. Call in a few favors. From Ganner and his crew.”
She nods, draws out her sword. “It would be quicker if I shot you now, sir?”

He sets his jaw and tightens his fists. “Nice thing: being death to life. I’m always back together for round two.” She presses the nozzle to his temple. Forces herself to meet his stare. “And Miriam, just ‘Dorrian’ is fine.”

“Yes, sir,” she says, and the blaster flashes.























































































































































































I spent a while on the interior, so here are some views of the inside.


Cockpit












Central Hallway








Engine Access Compartment






Cabin








































Workshop (and museum of the immortal's enemies and friends)
















































Practice Room (and external access room)




























Heavy Ordinance Room (for the thermal detonators, sonic grenades, and concussion missiles)









































All their gear.



A work in progress since December of 2011, this ship was a long haul. It’s been so long, in fact, that the vision for its style changed as I built. That’s probably why certain walls look entirely different from others. I tried to go back and adjust a few things, but I’m tired of the Black Box by now. The initial idea was to create a vehicle belonging to an immortal, a hard-hitting bomber, compact house, and museum of old victories and dead friends. It should have a sonic shower, formal sparring space, and a few more cannons. But this is non-canon anyway, so forget the last bit.
At longest, the ship is 47 studs from stem to stern. The widest part is 36 studs, and the thickest part is 15 studs thick. Many sets were harmed in the making of this MOC. I imagine it will be a while before I harm those sets again. If you haven't noticed, I've built very little in the last two years, and I don't see that changing soon. I'll still haunt the pages, but life will probably keep me too busy to build often. Still, I think this was a good set to end on.






Soli Deo Gloria



Comments

 I like it 
  June 27, 2012
Awesome detail and interesting design. There are lots of little things that really add to the over all experience of this craft!
 I like it 
  June 27, 2012
Awesome job! I like the upside down stud techniques you used on alot of the furniture, and I'm glad you were able to put two seats beside each other in the cockpit! You've got alot of rad little details throughout this ship, very well done! -Danny
 I like it 
  June 26, 2012
Superb! The story was enjoyable, and the ship's excellent. The textures you have on the hull are brilliant, and the shaping's well done. I also really like the interior, it reminds me of the Ebon Hawk. Great work!
 
By Ben Bryddia
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