Scorp Jedi Knight

So when they destroyed an entire planet, you didn't think that was a bad thing? In a Galaxy where they have to control thousands of worlds blowing up a planet is equivalent to when the united states bombed japan. It not like we have any proof whatso ever that Alderaan is a peaceful planet. The only person whose word we have to go by is Princess Leia. And if you listen to the stuff she says, she has been telling lies since the moment she talked to Darth Vader up until that point. Furthermore no one in the movie pauses to ask why was it that Alderaan got destroyed. The only person who claims it is a peaceful planet with no weapons is Leia. Who lies about everything else so why should we believe her at this point? It is extreme force to be sure. However it is not like the Empire goes around just blowing up every planet they come across after that.

I would if I could, like to see something that makes me want to root for the rebels. There really is no point in the OT upon revisiting it that I feel like the rebels are fighting a worthy cause. The Empire doesn't seem oppressive. It changed the deal on Lando a few times to be sure but, they didn't even arrest Lando for harboring high ranking rebel fugitives, nor did they put down a garrison. They threatened to do so but, it seemed for the most part that Vader and consequently the Empire didn't really care about the rebels. Tarkin wanted to use them as a demonstration for his battle station. Vader's only interest in them seems to be his son. It isn't until ROTJ when the Empire the Empire finally seems to be taking the rebels seriously. In part that is because the Empire outsmarts and out performs the rebels at every opportunity.

Scorp sighed. He could not accomplish his current mission on this world. Moments later he was quickly departing from this world.

Scorp folded his hands into his robes as his arms crossed his chest. He closed his eyes and concentrated burning the image into his brain. It was something he was going to need to remember. Aryian is trapped in the neitherworld so it is not his spirit that is corrupted. His body is filled with the darkside however. This is most troubling. He watched Master Dahar run out the room to handle the newest darkside threat. Scorp slowly turned out of the room and walked out. He was in no rush to confront this dark side presence. He could sense many Jedi already handling the issue. He could feel a far deeper threat, a far greater threat lurking some where in the back ground. He hoped the current situation would be resolved peacefully. He would hate to see another body on the temple's floor. Still it wasn't his situation to defuse. Instead he needed to focus on freeing Darkfire. He moved it was time to assemble a way to save his friend.

He raised his eyebrows as a slight tug seemed to attract his attention. He had a good feeling of what that meant for him. With his plate finished, he clipped his lightsaber onto his belt. Then in one fluid motion left the mess hall and headed toward the meditation chambers. Moments later he was quietly entering the room where Master Raikanda seemed to be waiting.

The distance sound of rocks cascading over the piles of rubble in the hanger washed over the Jedi master. His lightsaber lay on the ground next to him, silent and perhaps even brooding. Yet the master paid little attention to that as well. Instead he sat, airs on his knees catching his breath, his head resting against what was left of a wall. The air had cleared considerable after the hanger ceased to be a hanger and instead became one with the environment. The ceiling had collapse and it had damn near killed him. Yet so had that sith. There was a moment, a brief moment before the hanger collapsed when the man had been so utterly consumed with darkness and rage. In that moment the Sith had displayed enough raw Force power to lock him in place. Scorp had even felt the muscles beginning to constrict as if the Sith were to launch himself blade first into Scorp's diaphragm. Sweat trickled down, beading at the jaw before being lost in a sea of cloth. The moisture just another drop in the bucket to robes that were already soaking up his attempts to cool down. He let out a low sigh and closed his eyes. That sith had known him in some way. He couldn't recall the last time he had faced such a being. Yet that sith had known him, had known one of his trainers and as such had erupted into a white hot fury because of it. Yet he was always a student of the Force, so what could the Sith have meant by that? Why had his face enraged that masked man? His stomach rumbled, and he knew why. He had launched himself into that battle. After so long in meditation, his body was in need of sustenance. He had pushed far harder than he should have, just to hold his own that long. It was in short, not the proper was to wake up. He opened his eyes and sound began to be processed by him again. This included cleaning crews trying to get through the debris. Perhaps at the Sith who had retreated but Scorp could tell that man was long gone. He rose to his feet. Darhar had not died. Injured but not dead. There had been no casualties. Oddly enough he was even satisfied that the Sith was not dead, as taking a life was always such a terrible resort to have to rely on. Still there was great darkness in the galaxy and that man was a symptom of it. He would need to talk to Master Raikanda as soon as he was able to. Perhaps that man could fill in some blanks. For now however, he needed to eat. Lightsaber clasped to his belt he went straight to a mess hall.

At a distance, an observed would have noted a purplish hazy lightshow in the hanger. They would have seen the movement of bodies and the glow of purple as the lightsabers mixed together time and time again. Upon a closer inspection, the purple would dissolve away into a mix of red and blue. Twin crimson blades striking on and equal number of cyan one. The darkest of reds, the lightest of blues both colors were clearly at war upon which each was grossly entangled with the other. An being than peered closer would need the Force to enhance his vision, as it was impossible to see each blade move. Walls of light simply crashed into to each other time and time again, the individual blades lost in each fighter's art of combat. The dark one was aggressive. His attacks continually flowed into each other with liquid precision, creating the constant near-invisible weave of energy that seemed to make up his form. The near mastery of the bladework seemed almost to be an oblate sphere of crimson fire which contained dozens of blades attacking from every angle. The masked dark one sought to aggressively batter the Jedi master in to submission. The Force swelled around this dark man. It swelled around him and was focused into his form. Thus allowing the man to relish in the fight, his body perhaps even moving of its own accord. Yet the Jedi was not of a defensive nature. His form was also that of aggression though not one of fury. The Jedi master was a master his form, and his was not one for the faint of heart. It was not the calm measured pace that would might find in a duelist such as Dooku. No, the Jedi moved at high speeds, raining strong blows and attacking through the air. Quick and powerful spinning attacks were utilized at all angles both from the ground and from the air. He was but a blue, attacking from all directions, no side was left unthreatened by his blade. Front, sides, overhead, and behind, the Force aided him to accomplish these attacks allowing his blade to be everywhere at once. Each and every action flowed from one to another in the smooth transitions characteristic of Ataru. Surprisingly, the Jedi master was almost always in a form of rotation. Using the broad sweeping strokes gifted by use of a double bladed lightsaber, to both give him greater range, while defend against attacks. Spinning, somersaults and cartwheels, these were known as jung su ma, ton su ma, and en su ma respectively. These axes of rotation turned his fight into a three-dimensional war as the Force assisted his movements. Yet when aggression met aggression, there were times where one had to evade, and so his movements helped evade the slashes and strikes of his enemy while allowing him to deliver attacks of his own. Perhaps some would have thought out of the two aggressive styles that the vapaad would be victorious. After all there was a famous match up in history where, an ataru user took on a juyo user and lost. Yet while that situation was similar it was not the same, as Scorp given his calm piece of mind, never felt more full of energy. There were no restrictions to his movements, just the blade of his enemy crashing against his own time and time again. Scorp felt no worry, no panic, just the calm determination to end the life of this attacker, before he caused more harm. It was in a way a foil to the form of Vapaad. For Vapaad was a superconducting loop. Powerful as it was the user needed to be able to accept the fury of their opponent, needed to be able to harness the power of darkness in their opponent, and that was something Scorp simply could not provide to his enemy. He saw an opening, a gap in the flame so to speak, and feet planted upon the ground, he swung to cut the legs off of his opponent. He was expecting a block instead of an evade. The block would carry his attack away from his opponent, which would allow him to bring his other end to bear, slicing him diagonally from shoulder to rib cage. His armor seemed lightsaber resistant however, which had to this point allowed the man to be more reckless in his attacks. Scorp would end that by altering the swing to swipe across the neck instead of a broad strike through the shoulder. It would cause the man to have to defend two sides of his body almost simultaneously. High above the ceiling told of the tremendous stress it was having in attempting to keep itself together. Was there any body listening?

Cyan blades activated, two ends burning bright amongst the gloom of the hanger. Ruined as it were, dust and debris leaking from the ceiling like water from a rainstorm in a ruined and abandoned building. Mayhem and chaos surrounded the two figures that remained standing. One bathed in the evil that the dark side wrought. The other one was a serene beacon of light attempting to dispel the gloom and doom on the evil one who sought the destruction of those who resided in the temple. Scorp knew the ceiling could collapse at any moment. He was connected to it through the force. From the dust that flowed from the sky and splashed onto the floor, to the weakening structure that was losing strength more and more with each passing second. He had very little time to neutralize this threat. He could sense Master Raikanda had withdrawn from the battle. He was unable to discern the status of the Jedi but he could discern that much at least. This meant it was only this masked newcomer and Scorp himself fighting to end the existence of the other while the world seemingly conspired against them both. So Scorp knew he could pull no punches. His lightsaber was reserved only for the times most critical. Long a practitioner of hand to hand combat, he had refined his form to neutralize opponents while bringing them alive. It was only when death was preferable to life did his saber once again find a true purpose in his hands. He could feel the malicious intent of this individual, yet he was struck that on some level it felt”¦. familiar. As though he had encountered this masked man before somewhere else. Yet it was not time for reminiscing, as the man advanced quickly and efficiently. The dark one battered away Scorp's initial assault. Yet that was simply the opening gambit in a game that had been played countless times, through many different players. Scorp retreated on his ground, feeling the dark one's murderous intention to slice him in half. It was both a curse and to his advantage. Consumed by his thirst for battle. The masked one telegraphed his intentions long before making them a reality. Scorp kept his shrouded, making it seem as though he could not be rushed by any one occurrence. Which was a great contrast to his over fighting style. Flipping over his double bladed blade, he waited for the swing before launching a counter attack. A twirl of the blade that would leave the unarmed beside themselves from top to bottom. In this case he simply wished to draw the man's guard upward, by coming down with an overhead slash. His follow up would be to use that momentum to slice him in to from the ground up. The ceiling creaked”¦

Pandemonium! Dust and debris dripped from the ceiling like a cascading waterfall. Rubble littered the ground, evidence of a terrible force at work on a once pristine location. The very air was thick with dust, obscuring vision and making it difficult though not impossible to breathe. The Jedi Master wrapped part of his cloak around his mouth to become a filter for this environment. His eyes for now would be more of a hindrance than a help. Instead the master closed his eyes and reached out with the Force to ascertain the situation. His padawan clutched in his hand, seemed almost eager. He would have to admonish the padawan, as battle was always painful in some way, and one should never be excited for it. He felt a man who dripped of the Darkside out of every pour, and he felt a fellow Jedi locked in a battle to the death. He knew which side to pit his blade against. Ok lets try to take him alive. After all he has to have a reason for being here. If only to serve as a distraction for something else. Stay alert, I want you monitoring his ship for any signs of foul play. If it is about to self destruct I want to know before he thinks about doing it. Keep your focus Padawan and leave the rest to me. As if catapulted, he flew through the air with a powerful leap, assisted by the Force. To have tried to leap over the man would have been suicide. The Dark sider would have simply attempted to burn out his spine as he sailed past. Instead he landed a few meters to the man's right. With a snap his half of his blade activated and with a single out stretched hand, he pushed toward the man, dust and debris gathering with in its vortex, attempting to take the man off balance at the start.

Images, grave images filtered through his head as his padawan 'talked' to him. Sure he had given the creature the ability to speak but in times of dire stress sometimes he was just assaulted with images. None of these images were pleasing to the Jedi master, and so as he hurried to the hanger he sent out an emergency signal through the temple. As his robes practically flew behind him, his only desire was to make it in time before some tragedy struck.

A deep rumbling shook the very foundation of the building. Fluttering awake, the eyes of the Jedi master opened. Wearily he looked around before stretching out his sense to get a sense of what could have disturbed him. He had locked himself in using Morichro. As a master of his body, this was one of the ways he learned about himself. He was able to achieve the results for months at a time with out fail. Yet here he had ”˜woken' before his desired time. The reason he was unsure but he would soon find out. Rising from the position he had lain in for months. His lightsaber/padawan, greeted him haven been awoken in a similar fashion. Those his padawan was not in any way as nutrient required as he. Biting into a ration bar he quickly abandoned the notion when he at last discovered what was wrong. In a flash, lightsaber in hand, he began moving towards the hanger.

ouch It was his first thought as the harsh glare of the medical center's lights slammed into his unused eyes. It was his first sight in a long time and the Jedi master could only help but wonder at his location. There were things he remembered of course. Images that lurked within the grey mists he had resided in. Had it been the neither region? Had he become one with the Force if only for a time. He felt an irritant in his lungs, and knew he was surrounded in a liquid. liquid....murky He tapped on the glass and soon cool air hit his bare skin. It seemed that the Jedi Master was back among the realm of the living.

Scorp quietly reflected on the events in the galaxy as he sped toward his destination. He was to meet up with some one first, and then together they would head out. As his hip slowed to a stop at the preordianed coordinates he checked himself, his padawan, and his gear. Just because he was a Jedi didn't mean he could let material possessions fall to the way side. It was almost time.

He had been spending more and more time away from the Jedi. It was odd behavior to be sure, but it had fit him just fine. It was during a quiet meditation on his ship, as he got to know the people who hosted the Jedi, that he was alerted to something distressing. He checked in on his padawan, and then he sent a transmission himself to some places. Far too many things in the galaxy were going wrong. He had felt a great number of disturbances in the Force, and he had yet to do anything. It was time to get involved. Moments later he blasted away.

Time, it was a funny thing. It was all relative, and yet it was quite defining. To the Jedi master in the courtyard however, it was inconsequential. It was simply the distance between one event and the next and he had no events to disturb him. The young man instead focused, seemingly quite old for his years. He was perhaps twenty two now. Though to be honest he really didn't know. He had had, a lot of ”˜birthdays'. War had been”¦ hard on him. The galaxy simply was not the place it had been when he had first started on the Jedi path. What few friends he had, had were long gone and dead. Some perhaps were simply wandering space for all he knew. "Can I have my Beam Spiltter back miss?" He laughed silently to himself. That had been perhaps his first friend. He could still remember it like it was yesterday. He had just arrived on that frozen Ice ball of hoth and was carrying food that was weeks old. Not that he had much of a choice, he hadn't been in the best situation financially to begin with. That smile faded from his face replaced by a sadness he had perhaps never truly let go. Ha perhaps I am twenty five. I think my Jedi path started at age 18. Then again maybe it started when I was sixteen. It was an unknown fact for many but the Jedi master had memory problems. There had been a traumatic event at some point in his life. Something on the scale of being born for the first time. Much like how a baby could not remember its life in the womb, he could not remember his life before the Jedi. He had over the years tried to piece bits of the puzzle together but, truth be told, war was a very demanding mistress, and had occupied him far more often than he wished. Now at last with the opportunity to go fact finding, he found what past he did have still hurt to reflect on. What ever happened to my father's lightsaber? The old man in the courtyard laughed at the memory of his knighting ceremony, or lack there of. One moment he was a padawan who had lost his master. The next he was a knight and being sent off to war. War was hectic after all, how else did he become a knight ten months after joining the Jedi. Then again he had already been born again twice by that time. Then again a lot had happened to him over the years. He had been attacked, demoted, restricted, he had watched friends die, he had been in the same room as jedi of legend, and have faced Sith of equal power. Hell he had trained apprentice who had left before their time and had the potential to be greater than anything he could have ever hoped to become. Everything happened to him and he was always able to let it go. Well most of it. A deep lumbering sigh passed through the Jedi as he dried a face he hadn't even known as wet. Time had finally passed for the Jedi and he could begin to let things go in this galaxy of peace. Finally.