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Aleria Thorne

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About Aleria Thorne

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  1. A small snap-hiss sang out in the dark as her flying saber bloomed with brilliant lavender fire, cutting through the ebony dark as it sailed out behind the Sith and to his left. Keeping her emerald gaze leveled on the Sith, Aleria could see he was watching her just as intently. The bright flash of violet, as blue and lavender clashed, illuminated their feet. Her smiling face and sweaty pate hid the series of frenetic thoughts that bubbled to the surface of her mind. Every heartbeat surged through her like a hammer on glass and she used that nervous energy to fuel her momentum. As the Sith pulled forward with a long stride, keeping the bulk of his weight from his lead foot, Aleria caught his intent and brought her blade to bear as his actual strike threatened to lance her right arm off. She used both hands to brace her saber and caught his in another pulsing concussion of light vs. light. But Aleria wasn’t done, just as the sabers connected, she let the blow continue and maneuvered her metal prosthetic out of the way. Then -- presumably about the time the Sith would attempt to back-step -- Aleria let all of her nervous frenetic energy out through her left hand in the form of force energy, slamming it toward her opponent in a wave that would hopefully send him right into the path of her flying saber as it crested its long arc. She kept a part of her mind trained on her wayward blade and would pull the hilt right back into her waiting hand if her gambit was unsuccessful. Sandy's warning rang in the back of her mind. She needed to wrap this up or she'd be stuck on a sinking ship. Holy swamp turkey! This is intense! ((2))
  2. Aleria felt a tumescent lump of sludge slither through the depths of her stomach and rest uncomfortably in her esophagus. It was poised at the back of her throat as the texture of the man's diet began to color her nose with an unwelcome barrage. She fought to restrain her discomfort and quickly slammed the water the bartender passed to her, savoring the brisk feeling it gave her before she dared to speak again. “I-uh. I didn’t say what I did.” Aleria said, almost choking on the rapid inhalation of water as she scrambled for a response. “But I’m an archaeologist. I’m sent to historical sites to uncover ancient and potentially forgotten fragments of history. My supervisor tasked me with recovering ancient hidden artifacts out around Moonkeep. He said they were from... “ Alright Aleria, time to see if you can remember your history lessons… She paused and attempted to feign a brief lapse in memory while she searched for an appropriate period of history. To anyone else, the ploy might seem a bit obvious, but she was hoping he was too drunk to see it. “The Jedi Civil War! Right… He said they were from Revan’s time and that there was a lead linking the area to an old battle that was fought there hundreds of years ago.” Aleria was mildly impressed with her little lie but filled her mouth with a helping of Onderon’s famous grilled leeks to avoid potentially putting her foot in her mouth and ruining the whole bit. Hmm, who knew vegetables could have such a great texture?
  3. Aleria maintained the focus she held on the force around her and took a deep breath, exhaling through her nose. She grazed the switch to her built-in shoulder light -- deactivating it -- and centered her still active mind on the Sith that stood barely a stone's throw away. She shifted from a cross-guard position to a deeper ready stance with her dominant foot forward. Her eyes were still adjusting to the darkness, but there was more than one way for a Jedi to keep track of someone. And the Sith was not hiding his energy. She was shifting, following him with her body to greet his offensive but it seemed like he was taking his time. With transparent fingers, Aleria deactivated her right saber and sent it careening through the black of the open hangar, keeping the metal cylinder trained in her mind, using only her attachment to it to hold it steady. Then she resumed her ready stance with only her left saber, keeping a close watch on the Sith. While she awaited the first bout, Aleria caught a small pop through the din. Glass clattered to the floor and a small spike in the force told her it wasn't natural. The Sith just popped a fluorescent bulb that was already mostly burned out due to the Rebel's ion barrage. The level of light was only marginally affected. And Aleria was thoroughly confused. Did he want to break glass to strike fear into me or something? "Tell me, Jedi. Do you fear what lurks in the dark?" Aleria had to clamp her lips together to avoid the laugh that rushed to her lips. Was this guy for real? Did he not know that the station was already dark and had been for at least ten minutes now? She couldn't help the awful rebuttal but held her tongue until the right moment. When the Sith sprung from where he stood and lept toward her right side, Aleria stood her ground, shifted her weight to balance herself against her assailant, and clicked the button to her shoulder mounted light as she turned, projecting the full cone of light directly at where the Sith's face was based on his momentum and trajectory. Then, as the blade of his light saber triggered, she caught the Sith's arm at the wrist when it would've made contact against her metal prosthetic. "Nah, I prefer the light side of things." Aleria said, keeping all of the humor in her smile despite her struggle against the fit of giggles that fought to burst through her cheeks. Instead of keeping the Sith in her grip, she let his strike continue and countered his saber with the saber in her left hand and stepped back, using her weight to keep her grounded. The clash of blue and lavender made a a wild bright surge creating a build up of heat. But even as sweat built on her brow, Aleria was smiling. ((1))
  4. Why am I doing this? Aleria muttered to herself. Just a few hours ago, she'd been crammed into a decent sized storage crate that was being shipped to Onderon from another location. She'd been told that discretion was key, so she dressed in civilian clothes, suppressed her force signature and hid her sabers in an explorer's pack, hoping to take the guise of an archaeologist or trader. Granted, she didn't have much experience in espionage. But she figured people wouldn't ask too many questions of her if she didn't have the trappings of a righteous, blade-wielding, do-gooder. So far Aleria's assumption was right; or, if it wasn't, she hadn't figured that out yet. Some part of her thought that everything lined up a little too perfectly, but life without excitement was boring. So it was most certainly foolish, but it might make for an awesome story if she made it out. She had a few worn journal pages written by an Imperial Field Scout, some vague warnings from the Black Lotus figure, some hints about where to go, and a whole planet of evil Sith people or people that worked for evil Sith people that stood between her and what she wanted to accomplish. What was that again? Oh, right, finishing an investigation into lost Jedi Masters that were pillars of history before they vanished off the map. Yep. Easy. Aleria let her nerves settle and kept her force signature barely above a whisper, blending in with the populace of Iziz until she came upon a decent looking food establishment. She'd been looking for some grub ever since the chorus of her need reverberated off the metal of her regrettable but necessary hiding spot. And now that she had her sights set on it, her stomach started anew, loudly preaching to anyone that would happen to listen. She popped in between a smaller group of civilians and grabbed a spot by the bar, hailing the bartender to grab a glass of water and whatever he had as a special. She did her best to seem small. Her body language was very closed off and she sat at the very end of the bar to avoid unnecessary conversation. It was very obvious what she was doing, but Aleria had no clue. Someone shouldered up beside her as she was handed a steaming plate of something that smelled absolutely divine. And, whether it was impulse or something else, Aleria leaned over and asked the person sitting next to her: "Hey, I'm here to gather information about an old Imperial outpost called 'Moonkeep.' I need to draft up something to give to my supervisor or I'm gonna get canned. All I got is rumors, I was wondering if you might know more?"
  5. As Aleria's blade met a stray bolt of crimson plasma that came so very close to singing her face, the station lights went out. It was a bit jarring at first, but she managed to catch herself before crashing to the floor; graceful. To make matters worse, the distinct hum of the ventilation systems along with other ancillary system noises were replaced with a din of panicked bellowing. The life support was down and people were flapping around like a clutch of cornered mynocks. Skric! Aleria took a moment or two to mentally skim through her - albeit brief - instruction on how to use her vac suit, considering she had to sift through all the vague derision that Sanderson leveled at them. But she eventually found the little switch right above her left pectoral muscle; right at the seam of the vac suit's chest and arm sections. As she twirled through a spray of gunfire, she popped the small button on her suit's shoulder mounted exterior light, illuminating a small cone about ten feet from her position. It was a great way to give away her position, but considering the large bright pink-purple blades of pure light she was wielding, that star ship had already left dry dock. And, considering the mob of civilians that were now pressing in upon them, it wouldn't matter much. Seeing Aidan, Sandy, and Kel rush for a door at the end of the hall, Aleria followed suit, only to find that the door wasn't going anywhere. Huffing mildly, and taking a moment to wipe the sweat from her brow, Aleria eyed the cold steel door. Through the force she could feel how thick the security door was. And, had the power been on, opening the door would have been a cinch. As it was, she needed to find the locking mechanism. No pressure, right? The young Jedi ran her organic limb across the strong metal door and the wall adjoining it, using the light from her sabers and her shoulder until she came across what she assumed was a localized junction box. It looked almost exactly the same as the junction box outside her old apartment back on Coruscant but it was sealed tight. With a snap hiss she disabled her left saber and stuck the hilt in her mouth while bending slightly to examine the box. There was no discernible latch that she could see. But it had to pop open somehow. She stepped back and tried to kick it but that ended with a very stubbed toe. After a sharp exhalation of pain, she tried to punch it with her metal arm but it still wouldn't come loose. It just left a fist sized dent in the metal panel. Hoping her hunch was correct, she ran her remaining beam of active plasma along the outside of the box until the panel popped off. Yes! Now... let's just hope this next trick works as much as that did! She'd never tried anything like this before. She wasn't even sure something like this was plausible. But she had to hope, otherwise they were cutting the doors open by hand which could take forever. Not knowing which wires were the right ones, Aleria grabbed the whole bunch of wires, including several wires that were cut when she opened the thing, in her organic left hand and let her mind clear, allowing the power of the force all around her to flow through her body and - hopefully - into the wires. At first, nothing happened. Aleria's eyes were closed as she tried to focus. She could feel the closed doors mocking her through their continued stoicism. But, just as she started to tire, the metal doors scraped across the floor. Wooo! Aleria cheered internally. But as fast as her adulation came, it left when the doors stopped moving. They had barely moved a foot apart. When Aleria looked down to try again, she saw that the wires were burnt out and broken. At least with no power the doors didn't move back together, but she was still distinctly underwhelmed. It left just enough space for them all to squeeze through if they walked sideways; though, it would be a tight squeeze. Aleria stood up and brushed off her robes with her free hand. "Well... I guess that's that, unless any of you have any other ideas." Aleria said with a half-smile. After she reached a full standing position, right beside Sandy and the others, a cold prick of sensation crawled up the base of her spine until it reached the crown of her head. Instinctively she ignited her other saber and entered a cross-guard ready stance. "There's a problem. You guys go for it, I'll be right behind you as soon as I can take care of it." She urged through gritted teeth. Sure enough, though hard to make out in the light she was emitting, amid the panicked citizens and the soldiers still struggling to move through the chaos, a solitary figure stood. He looked to be just a scant few inches shorter than Aleria and he had a lightsaber hilt in his hand. ((Mordecai - you can get the first post or set up however you want and give it to me. I'm good either way.))
  6. Breathe. Focus. Both of Aleria's pale lavender blades bloomed to life as another volley was loosed by the assault shuttle's welcoming committee. A small smile played briefly across Aleria's lips as her heartbeat thundered in her chest. Adrenaline surged under the spray of chromatic plasma in the air. The excitement and thrill of the moment built within her despite the growing noise that echoed all around her. Aleria knew it wasn't a game; war was never a game. But action - blood pumping, sweat inducing, ridiculously daring action - was something Aleria enjoyed. The thrill of life was never so real as when it could end at any moment. And oddly enough, being a Jedi, fueled that sensation even more. Jedi didn't believe in death as anything but another part of life. Why be afraid of something that comes to everyone in the end when you can enjoy what you have while you have it? Up. Down. Left. Left. Left. Flip. Right. Dodge. Every step and every deflection was methodical. Like a dancer with very intentional glides, Aleria followed every cold chill of her danger sense. Prickly fingers tickled the base of her skull, moving her this way and that to avoid taking a full shot to any body part in particular. But she had her fair share of damage. She came away with singe marks in her robes, a burn on her left shoulder, and several meaty scorch marks on her prosthetic parts. It was nothing a good bit of attention couldn't fix. Before the next volley, Aleria scrambled behind a few crates to gain cover from the incoming Black Sun troops. And although the height of battle was raging in her ears, she could feel something more sinister further in. Sith had boarded the Dark Sun station. There was nothing she could do about it from here, considering the Sith she felt were gathering a fair distance away and she was contending with grunts and trying to help both Kel and Sandy. But she readied herself and kept aware of any changes to make sure the Sith didn't catch them by surprise.
  7. Aleria fidgeted with the clasps that held her saber hilts while she settled into the assault shuttle, prepping her vac suit and listening to the verbal assault that Sanderson aimed at her and Kel for staying out too long. Once the last seal on her suit was complete, regardless of any protest, Aleria sat on the open metal floor amidst several standing soldiers, closed her eyes, and waited. Several moments drifted by. The smell of sweat was ever-present. But, with effort, Aleria managed to drown it out. The sounds of the soldiers talking started to fade. The sounds of booming concussive death machines that echoed through the steel all around them began to fade. Even the stubborn thoughts that rattled in her brain-pan began to fade as she breathed in and out. Once or twice Aleria was almost kicked by a jostling soldier, but she shifted her weight and managed to avoid the bulk of their incidental blows. She knew that there was no aggression. No. Everyone was waiting; waiting for the inevitable march; waiting for the trials ahead; waiting to see who would live and who would die, and waiting to see whether they would fail their objective. Even trained soldiers felt fear. Even trained soldiers felt apprehension. But Aleria didn’t need that right now. She needed to focus. They wouldn’t find Raven if she couldn’t. She wouldn’t be able to protect anyone if her nerves were a mess. The word protect sent tingles into the organic half of her body, signaling a phantom pain that still remained despite her prosthetic replacements. What would Roene say if he were here? Aleria was cold, sitting at the edge of the camp. It was weeks after the accident and her body had healed enough for her to move around but she still had no right arm and her depth perception was horrible. Trying to use the force was like driving a steel pike into her brain. It was terrible and parts of her wished she could just curl up and die. The sound of movement stirred her fatalistic musings and she turned to find an old Cerean just at the edge of her perception. He wore an old brown robe that covered most of his body, but his undeniable cone head poked through the hood. “You seem troubled.” He said, after a few moments of silence. Aleria didn’t respond. “Not going to speak, huh?” The Cerean continued. Aleria stared out at the Borleias horizon. “Well, if you’re not going to talk then you can listen.” The Cerean sighed as he took a knee beside Aleria. “I was once like you, troubled and in pain. I lost something close to me and had no ready way of getting it back. I sat on the edge of life and frittered away my existence, worried if I would ever get back to the way I was before. Do you know what helped?” The Cerean waited as if Aleria would actually answer the question but kept talking when he was met with more silence. “Finding new things that I *could* do. Moving on from the woe and working with the skills I had to make something of my situation. It was the only way I could get past my loss.” Aleria shifted uncomfortably, the pain in her arm splintering into something her brain couldn’t readily process. “Well did you ever lose almost half of your body?” Aleria said, turning to face the old Cerean with a downcast expression. Bandages covered the right half of her body excluding her hip and leg. The Cerean’s expression was soft. He placed his right hand on Aleria’s un-bandaged shoulder. “I can’t say what I lost was more egregious than you; a loss is a loss. The key is to learn how to use what you have. You aren’t a different person because you lost something. You might change your perception or change your training methods, but you’re who you are regardless of how much of you is missing. You just need to find a way to piece together what you have into a functional way of moving forward. And I can help.” Aleria tried to reach out with the force and touch the Cerean’s mind, to understand what he lost. She braved the searing pain as she delved back into the force only to find that the Cerean was a huge scorch mark. Where Jedi would normally see a conduit for the force or lack of one in a non-force user, the Cerean had a massive black spot. Aleria’s eyes widened and she choked back a tiny gasp. “I take it by your expression you went prying into an old man’s business without his permission, eh?” The Cerean said, feigning an inquisitive eyebrow. Aleria’s face flushed and she buried her face in her unbandaged palm. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean, I wanted to…” The Cerean laughed, “it's alright. You’re welcome to look. One of the greatest assets a Jedi has is being able to see what others cannot; being able to sense the things around them. I can’t blame you for being curious. I can warn you its dangerous, but I have a feeling people have said that to you before. Now, something I learned while I could still touch the force is that you need to have a good grasp on the physical parts of your training. If you just focus on the spiritual stuff, you lose out on the physical conditioning and the rigors of a good combat regimen.” “But what does that have to do wit-” Aleria tried to interject. “-let me finish. Because you were so used to using the right part of your body, your left half was neglected. But even your left half can be as strong as your right if you train it to be. In the same way that your physical prowess can be as strong or stronger than your force powers. The key is to visualize what you want to achieve and go for it. So... how many one-armed push-ups can you do?” The Cerean finished, crooking his lips into a smile and unfurling his cloak to reveal that he too was missing a limb. Slowly letting the assault shuttle come back into focus Aleria smiled to herself. He had his own baggage, but he was a tough old alien. Aleria felt when the assault shuttle touched down. The entire cabin tensed. It was a palpable sensation that hung thick in the air. But she kept her head and body low to the ground. She tapped into the cold metal deck plating of the shuttle and extended her senses to what lay beyond. And although the force didn’t work like sonar or echolocation, it did give Aleria forewarning that they had a welcoming committee to contend with. She pushed through her feet to a standing position and walked over to Sanderson. He was dutifully trying to prep his men for their entrance and almost didn’t see her. When he turned to face her he wore a professional expression that seemed to mask something deeper. “Well well well,” Sanderson started with a self-important hue to his imperious tone. “It seems you’ve finally decided to pay attention to the task at hand. We’ve been given our assignments and will be heading out in a few seconds. Get ready.” “Well, Commander, you should know-” Aleria tried. “What I should know is that you’re wasting valuable time.” Sanderson finished. “But there are toops-” Aleria tried, again. “Yes, there are troops waiting for my command. Now, if you would be so kind, please get to a ready position and await my command.” Sanderson finished with a derisive snort. “Yes, sir.” Aleria sighed with resignation. When the assault shuttle’s hatch began its opening procedures and the troops were just about to march into the station, a prickly sensation climbed up the base of Aleria’s skull. She heard a small hiss of exhaust as a mechanical projectile took to the stale recycled air and headed directly for the assault shuttle as the landing platform descended. The direction wasn’t certain, but she didn’t have time to debate the thought in her head. Aleria tumbled through the mess of troops between her and the slowly growing portal, pooled the force in her hands and then sent it outward. The bubble of force caught the opening beams of a blaster volley and sent one rocket careening harmlessly into the ceiling. Aleria continued by deflecting the remaining bolts of the opposition’s opening volley and scrambled to find cover along with Sanderson’s troops. The next few moments passed by quickly with a mess of red and green blaster fire as the troops filtered out of the shuttle and into the station. But Aleria still managed to raise her left eyebrow at Sanderson as if to say, I told you so.
  8. ... need to be made an example of... Aleria's one green eye drifted to just behind the Kel-Dor's head, followed slowly by her artificial one, and set on a durasteel fixture jutting oddly from the wall. It looked like a vent of some kind that didn’t seem to make any perceptible ventilation sounds. In fact, the more she looked at it, the less she truly understood about its function or its placement. It just sat there immutable and quiet; indignant to any definition. It was almost serene. But everything had a purpose; a direction, right? Even some mysterious gray wall thing had something. Just sabering it from the wall could cause damage. And the damage might be minor, but it would remain until someone came to replace or fix it. But who’s to say that it's wrong? What if it was meant to be cut off? Who can really say or dictate whether something is better in one place than another? Aleria’s forehead glinted under the bright ship lights. She reflexively rubbed at it with the back of her left arm and paused, grazing the tip of her organic finger over the seam between her real face and her synthetic one, mulling over the significance of her accident. She remembered the sage words of Roene and her former master but nothing seemed to apply here. Nothing of this moment reminded her of the order she grew up with. Then liquid darkness clawed at the ebb of her mind. Spidery appendages delicately pawed at the myriad of organic and synthetic parts of her spine as they climbed the length, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. Aleria quickly snapped her head to another part of the docking bay. Her face was the color of alarm with maybe a touch of excitement. Her hilts lept to her hands and her lips crooked in a slight smile as her former confusion was met with sterling clarity. Wrong or right, this fight just got a lot more interesting. The young Jedi, realizing her defensive instincts took hold, replaced her hilts at her hips and found Kel’s gaze once more. “You felt that too, huh, Kel? Looks like the Sith came to rumble. As to what you said, I'll do my best. Regardless, we need to get back on that assault shuttle, follow me.” With no more preamble, Aleria scurried back onto the assault shuttle with - hopefully - Kel following behind. She ignored any and all ire she and Kel wrought from Sanderson due to their absence and waited for her turn to march.
  9. Just as everything seemed to rev up, it all just stopped. Aleria’s comm received the same ping as Kel’s, but she followed him out of the shuttle instead of insisting they take the call separately. Regardless, the Kel-Dor made a wise choice leaving the other troops -- and Sanderson -- inside the shuttle out of what was potentially sensitive information. She nodded quietly to him and stood at what she deemed a comfortable distance from him to listen to the ‘War Council’s’ briefing. It was a short, taciturn meeting. Aleria barely knew two people in the group. And yet here they were discussing the fate of thousands -- maybe millions -- of lives. The concept of destroying an entire station and everyone inside was a lot to digest. Although that outcome was suggested as an alternative to a safe rescue, the Grand-master's delivery said everything. She would kill everyone on that station without hesitation. The cold steely tone in her voice was something Aleria had never heard before. It didn’t really seem like it belonged to a Jedi Master, let alone the Jedi Grand-master. But Aleria hadn’t known a long and storied life. And considering some of her life, she wasn’t really a good judge of people’s choices. Maybe that was how it had to be now that Coruscant was destroyed. Maybe the Jedi were warriors now despite everything Jedi of the past did to avoid that outcome. The fleshy part of Aleria’s brow knitted briefly. Her green eye hardened and she instinctively groped at the hilts secured to her hips. When she returned to Kel, his expression seemed a bit worse for wear despite his chuckle. And when he mentioned Sandy would be joining the fray, despite her injury, Aleria’s worries doubled. No pressure, right? “I’ll do what I can Kel. But I don’t think I can follow through with killing everyone on that station. I’ve been with the Jedi most of my life and this seems like a very ‘Un-Jedi’ idea. I’ll fight if they’re shooting at us, but I’m not going to fight every Black Sun agent on that station. I can’t bring myself to murder someone that is just trying to do their job. Who knows what the Black Sun has on them? Who knows why they’re there? We certainly can’t. So why does that give us the right to just go on a killing spree? We’re Jedi, not murderers. If we can solve the problem head-on without casualties, that will always be my first option. And if they threaten you or Sandy I’ll help protect you. But I won’t allow life to be thrown away like that. Yes, we all join the force eventually. But we do so at our own time. I have half a mind to grab a ship and fly out there to take on the mission myself, but I don’t know how to fly. I’d be dead in space and no help to anyone. So, for now, know that I will follow Sanderson despite his unusual Jedi hatred until it conflicts with what I believe is right.” Aleria reasoned, looking at Kel with something of a plea in her one organic eye. But her stance defied her vulnerability and her posture showed strength. She would follow through with what she could.
  10. The hint of a scowl tugged at the corners of Allie’s face. Her hard green eyes dug holes through the back of the calloused Commander’s face. And though he stood one inch taller than she did, Aleria felt an obelisk, towering over the man and his ignorance. But ultimately, she didn’t care. It wasn’t her place to put her values on someone else. And, disrespectful though he was, this was war. This was the time to put all else aside and sacrifice to protect and serve the people of the galaxy. Y’know, what Jedi are supposed to do… Right? Aleria listened to the rest of the Commander’s orders with indifference. Her eyes wandered to the plates of the ship behind him and to the viewports beyond. Her hands idly grasped at the metal hilts at her hips and her feet tapped quietly on the durasteel deck-plating. Feverish thoughts buzzed in her ear like so many bugs. Her expression hadn’t changed, but her nerves were starting to rebel. Despite herself, Aleria took a moment to scan her surroundings, trying to imagine where she needed to go, trying to plan ahead. It didn’t really help, but it gave her an excuse to dig herself out of her funk and motivated her to reacquaint herself with the joys of simple things. Like the fact that Commander Sanderson had a piece of toilet tissue stuck to the underside of his boot or that some of the recruits behind Sanderson were having a laugh. Aleria couldn’t tell what they were laughing at, but their joviality helped put her mind at ease. Aleria was as ready as she would ever be. And, as soon as the rest of the group began to move, she carried on toward the assault shuttles and prepped herself for what was to come. It was going to be a long ride.
  11. A small prick sent the hairs on the back of Aleria's neck to standing. She instinctively tightened the grip of her left hand, but her face was stone - If there was one thing the Jedi taught her more than anything else, it was how to properly show indifference with nothing but a facial expression. The way that Sanderson said the word 'teenage' made her think that the older officer chafed at having to work alongside a young woman regardless of her level of experience. Which Aleria considered ironic given the current Imperial Head of State. Sandy was polite, forward, and incredibly experienced given the myriad of stories hidden beneath her young exterior. It was a rash judgment to be sure, but Aleria took a mental note of it for later. For now, she needed him. The Commander's gaze combed over her, focusing on her bearing and the scars she wore; she could see it in the imperious glint of his eyes. It was misleading given her lack of field work. But her prosthetics often provided leverage with people that thought fighting and manual labor were too rough for a woman. Ignoring the muscles and the physique, it takes a hefty-looking metal arm and a mechanical eye for people like that to take you seriously. "I would like to be a part of the boarding parties, yes. I was told you were the one to contact. Do I need to report to some place in specific or do I follow you when the time comes?"
  12. Aleria's lips formed a crooked smile in answer to the awkwardness of her gesture but resumed her jovial expression before any potential shame stuck to her face. She brushed her fake acrylic follicles out of her mechanical eye and took Commander Sarna’s prosthetic hand in her own in a genial shake. Aleria nodded politely to the two men as they were introduced and offered each of them as warm a smile as she could muster. Sometimes she wondered how odd the smile looked when half of her face was metal, but her idle musings weren’t enough to quell her exuberance. When Commander Sanderson was introduced, Aleria patiently removed her prosthetic from Sandy’s hands and gave her another smile. “It was a pleasure meeting you Commander Sarna and your friends as well. I feel my talents are better suited on the field rather than on the sidelines - though I admit to having very little experience. I look forward to seeing you again very soon.” With another quiet nod, Aleria took her leave of the trio and made her way over to Commander Sanderson to await further instruction.
  13. Aleria took a moment to adjust to the ship's running lights. The fluorescence was a bit brighter than the hit or miss of Nar Shaddaa's crazy neons. She tapped the toe of her hard soled boot on the deck plating of the frigate and smiled a little to herself. Her left hand found the carved steel of her left hilt and her mechanical hand scraped against the metal of its partner. This is the first battle I'm going to be a part of. I'll finally put all these skills to use. She took a few measured breaths before letting her hands drop to her sides and continuing toward the bridge. Aleria had heard through former Knight Roene that the Jedi were going to attempt to rescue the Imperial Remnant Head of State. And, considering the massive losses they'd suffered, Aleria figured the Jedi, the Galactic Alliance, and the Imperial Remnant needed all the help they could get. She didn't really know that a few of her plates would come loose on her way to Nar Shaddaa. Nor did she have proper authorization to enter the frigate. But she assumed, by virtue of being a Jedi Knight, that she'd be okay. At least, she hoped as much. Her expression was steel and her posture was professional without seeming stiff. Her direction was intentional and even when she took a few wrong turns she took care not to betray the bewilderment she felt. When she finally made it to the bridge, she nodded politely to the guards and passed them, coming to stand before a shorter, younger-looking woman. The woman's kind face held depth. Her green eyes hid forests of trauma that wouldn't easily be traversed. Nor would Aleria wish to venture into them without consent. But something told her that this woman was not to be dealt with lightly. Aleria knelt in front of the woman and bent her head low to look at the dull gray steel beneath her feet. "Commander Sarna. Though we haven't met, my name is Aleria Thorne, knight of the Jedi Order, and I wish to serve in the coming battle. Will you have me?" Aleria's kneel was a little awkward because she'd never really done something like this before. But she knew that kneeling was a way of showing respect. So the gesture would have to do for the time being.
  14. TING! TING! TING! “Could you be a little gentler? I may not be able to feel my arm, but the rest of my body is feeling the tremors.” A woman’s voice asked from underneath the burly man wielding his hammer like it was some kind of vengeful ax. “Yes your majesty, right away…” The man grumbled under his breath as he softened his arc. He paused for a moment, wiping the sweat from his brow and looked around his empty shop before continuing to etch at a reflective piece of surgical steel. “Hey! If it weren't for me you'd have been tending to yet another white plastoid armor piece. By now you probably find them rather bore-ing.” The woman replied, looking up at the grizzled man’s face with a mischevious glint in her eye. “Was that a metal pun?” The man said, his face contorting like he was eating a sour grape. “... ... maybe.” The woman continued, failing to hide the playfulness in her tone. “I'm immediately regretting this decision.” The man grunted, continuing to hammer away anyway. “C' mon,” the woman defended, “ it's not every day you get to help put a lady back together.” The man belly laughed before putting the finishing touches on his work and brushing off the metal etchings. “Honey, I don't know about you, but the hardware you're sporting would closer resemble a high-end toaster than a lady.” The woman nodded, her auburn hair tumbling to the floor in a mess. “Fair point. At least it's high end. Coulda been rinkadink or rusty.” The man got up, wincing at a fresh jolt of pain to his lower back before sauntering back to his place by the anvil at the center of the shop. “Why aren't you taking time to upgrade that stuff anyway? Seems to me you could use your arm for so much more.” “Why?” The lady asked as she mirrored his wince and got up, adjusting herself and checking to see that everything was back in its rightful place. “It's an arm.” “Yeah bu-” “-it's fine Mr. Ahzinger.” The woman interrupted. “The less you know the better. Did you finish the engraving?” “Yeah. I got the Jedi insignia right up on your shoulder piece. You a fan... or...?” Vihk’s voice wavered as he acknowledged the curved hilts she replaced in her belt loops. “Ah.” “That's not a problem is it?” She said, cocking an eyebrow at the middle-aged former Mandalorian. “Nah. Just... I never really saw a Jedi get this banged up before. What happened, if you don't mind me asking, Ms. Thorne?” Vihk’s tone was level and his eyes held years of stories. Aleria could see the pain hidden deep in those steel gray eyes. “I don't mind.” She said after a minute or two of silence. “I just don't know if I'm ready. Another time maybe? We can trade stories.” “Sure,” Vihk said nodding, a small smile spreading across his lips. “Feel free to come back if you need anything else.” “Thanks.” __________________________________________ Aleria hastened to the Jedi fleet, made contact with the Ara-lai, and boarded the frigate before it made the jump to hyperspace. ((Approved by Tim))
  15. Patient Identity: Legal Name: Aleria Thorne Known Aliases: Allie Homeworld: Borleias Species: Human Physical Description [[ PRE-OP ]] [Round/Square face] [Chest-length Auburn hair] [Moderately thick, straight eyebrows] [Green, almond-shaped, eyes] [Button nose] [Moderately thick freckles around the bridge of the nose and the middle of the cheeks that recede to the edge of the hairline and jawline.] [Moderately thick lips with no discernible cupid’s bow.] Age: 20 Height: 6'1" Weight: 179 lbs Body Build/Type: Mesomorph Gender: Female Physical Description [[ POST-OP ]] [Right half of Patient's face restored using a suite of simplistic cybernetics and surgical steel plating] [Patient's missing right eye replaced by a standard 20/20 mechanical eye] [Additional functions to the cybernetic suite/eye/limbs forgone due to lack of resources, but slots and expansions allow for future modifications if requested] [Patient's hair growth on the damaged parts of cranium: ceased] [Additional follicles grafted to patient's cranium to recreate original length/color] [Patient's right arm, all seven right-side true ribs, 2 false ribs, and a portion of the Patient's right hip bone were all replaced with surgical steel/ steel plated cybernetics] [Cybernetics linked to specific regions of the brain to simulate natural movement] [Jawline and other parts of the Patient's face and body are relatively undamaged] Age: 20 Height: 6'1" Weight: 200 lbs Body Build/Type: Mesomorph Gender: Female Equipment/Possessions Clothing: Pale green Jedi tunic with dark emerald accents Russet colored Jedi pants Dark brown-black leather boots Black knee socks Brown-black leather belt with pouches and loops for saber hilts Weapon: Twin lightsabers with brilliant pale lavender blades and curved steel hilts Miscellaneous: - Worn leather bag: Credit Chit (500) Jedi-Issued Comm Device Ration Packs (5) Datapad Faction Information Force User Alignment: Chaotic Good Current Faction Affiliation: Jedi Current Faction Rank: Knight History Force Side: Light Trained by: Tomani Garrus (NPC), Kro'Roene Givrah (Former PC/Knight) Trained who: N/A Known Skills: (Base Knight-level Understanding) [Basic] Shii-cho, [Focused] Niman Lightsaber forms (Shii-cho - single saber, Niman - Dual Sabers) Speed Jump Push/Pull Telekinesis Sensory Force Sight Telepathy Meditation Healing used as a basic guide: http://swffarchives.wikidot.com/force-powers Background: Aleria was born to a couple of refugees on the planet of Borleias. She was loved dearly and cared for to the best of her parent's abilities. But, before long, they realized they couldn't afford to give their daughter the care they wished. Aleria's father lost his job and had forgone eating to allow Aleria one more day of comfort. Her mother, seeing the pains that her father was going through, kept looking for options to ease their financial woes. Their answer came in the form of a small expedition made to the planet. A group of Jedi came to visit the refugee camps on the outskirts of the city. And a kind togruta by the name of Tomani found that Aleria had force potential. Aleria's parents took one hard look at their choices and offered Aleria to Tomani in order to provide her a better life; a life away from the terrible roulette that poverty placed on her life. Aleria spent the next seven years under the care of the Jedi Order on the planet of Coruscant. By the age of nine, the little girl had started getting up to all sorts of shenanigans. Including, but not limited to, escaping the temple and getting lost for four years. Coruscant is a big planet. And, although her initial plan was to sneak away to the local park, Aleria was quickly trundled along the street amongst a wave of panicking citizens. A terrorist attack that occurred a few blocks away sent a surge of people down the heavy durasteel walkways which swept the young Jedi hopeful into a crazed riot of emotion and carried her further away from the Jedi temple than she'd ever gone before. At first, the new development was exciting. The prospect of exploring Coruscant by herself was tantalizing. But that feeling was quickly quashed when she realized she had nowhere to go. She didn't know where home was and she was hopelessly at odds with how to contact the Order. After encountering a few seedier individuals, Aleria stumbled upon a restored halfway house. And, as custom with childish naivete, Aleria wandered inside with no preamble whatsoever. It was smelly, it was dirty, and it was downright chaotic when compared to the life she was used to. However, in this den of desperation and recovery, she met two pleasant middle-aged aliens. One was a forty-two-year-old Kel-Dor named Felix and the other was a forty-year-old purple twi'lek named Adora. Both of them were flabbergasted by the nine-year-old that stumbled into their building. But decided to look after her to the best of their ability. In the meantime, Felix did what he could to get in touch with the Order to see if he could get her back to them as quickly as possible. But, due to ongoing conflict, contacting the Jedi proved to be a bit more daunting than originally anticipated. This lead Adora and Felix to taking up the child's care for the next four years until they could finally establish ties with the Jedi and return Aleria to their care. The Jedi involved were a little skeptical about the bonds that the now thirteen-year-old had developed for Adora and Felix, but Tomani vouched for Aleria and offered to take her as a padawan learner and claim responsibility for her tutelage. The Jedi knew of Tomani's history with Aleria and felt this was a wise choice. However, they would keep an eye on Aleria as she grew in order to keep her from drifting away from the light. The next six years passed by in a blur of training and education. Until, one week before her twentieth birthday, Tomani and Aleria were walking the streets of Coruscant when Hespiridum crashed into the planet's surface. Terror and destruction rained on for the minutes that proceeded the initial collision, but Aleria's mind was steady. She needed to make sure as many people got off the planet as possible. But two points of thought bored into the center of her brain and her heart. Felix and Adora were still in the halfway house. What if they didn't make it out? She fled as fast as her feet could carry her to where she remembered they were. When she got there, the building was on fire. Aliens were streaming out but she saw nothing of Felix or Adora. Aleria ripped through the building to find them, attempting to search as thoroughly as possible. But she needn't have exerted herself. Adora and Felix were busying themselves evacuating the house just as she arrived. Both of them looked worse for wear, but her heart soared when she saw them. She passed along the urgency of their escape and helped the rest of the aliens in the house to the durasteel walkway outside. Just as they were finishing up and about to make their way to the Jedi evac ships, the halfway house came crashing to the ground, centered on Adora and Felix. Steel in her eyes, Aleria used the adrenaline surging through her to manipulate the force around the rubble, keeping it from falling on the closest thing she had to parents. Adora and Felix thanked her and made it out okay. But, just as the adrenaline had come, when it left, Aleria's energy cut out and the mass of rubble fell on her, ripping her right arm off and ravaging the right half of her body from the waist up. Adora and Felix, horrified and aghast, gathered Aleria's body as best they could and got it to the evac ships. There, Aleria's body was put under extensive observation and care by the best there was to offer which wasn't a lot considering the hastiness of the evacuation. When the ships got to Borleias Aleria was stable but troubled. She'd lost her dominant arm and her dominant eye. She was also mildly delirious and dizzy given the extent of the damage. It took days before enough of her body was solid enough to move around. But it seemed like her youthful exuberance was tarnished. Felix and Adora stayed with her until it was time to set up a new homestead. They offered her a place to stay if she wished but didn't push when she didn't respond. It was in the evac camp that she met Roene and Arleigh ((used with permission from Tim)). Roene, having lost connection to the force and his left arm, was familiar with loss. Arleigh, Roene's former Padawan, was one of the medical professionals responsible for Aleria's bacta treatments. Roene offered, even after her accident, to train her in the ways of the force. Aleria asked why. And, moreover, she asked how considering the Cerean had no connection to the force. His warm smile burned away the ice that corroded her injured heart and re-ignited the lively fire deep inside her. It took little convincing to get her to agree to the training. Thus Roene finished what training she had and helped her adapt to a world without the use of her limb, setting her on the path to becoming more ambidextrous. His regimen included a healthy level of physical non-force training and philosophy, but it helped to flesh out Aleria's training, considering that a lot of her training to date had been from the - albeit restricted - comfort that a Jedi facility provides. Eventually, Aleria was fitted with cybernetics to replace her arm and her eye. It felt rather odd to have alien connections to her brain and the mechanical hand would take some getting used to. But a big part of her didn't care. She was determined to live. She was determined to see her life through to the end, for better or worse. To protect who she could protect; to live as much as she could.
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