Hawker

Mrakhh opened his eyes. Where he was, he didn't know. All he knew was that he was Mrakhh, the Togorian that was meant to be a Jedi, and had been trapped by a bounty hunter. His fingers had been cut off, and he had nothing. Nothing in the world, not even his weapons. No clothes, no money, no food. Mrakhh's instict kicked in. He needed to survive. He ran off, exausted, but ready to do what he needed to do. ------- A few hours later, Mrakhh took off in a ship, with clothes on his back and food in his stomach. He had harmed no one while stealing these items, and yet he felt totally guilty for stealing. Even if his life depended on it. He promised to himself that he would repay all of those who he had stolen from, one way or another. With that settled, Mrakhh took off into hyperspace.

Mrakhh stood up, hoping that he would be able to find a way out of the cell. Mrakhh was curiose to why the mandolorian would wear his helmet inside his own ship. If it was to hide his identity, the measure was in vane. Mrakhh had already torn the helmet off of the mandolorian warrior in battle. It was a mistake the Togorian would never make again. "As much as Mrakhh hates to deal with someone who has... put him through this much disgrace.." Mrakhh paused and looked around at the cell he was in. Then he continued. "Mrakhh is willing to make a deal for his freedom. If you let Mrakhh out of this cage, he will give you his word as a Togorian and as a future Jedi, that he will make no attempt to escape or hurt you until an agreement is made." Mrakhh hated how he was almost begging this scumb to be let out of some cage like an animal, but even though he was furios, he meant every word. Togorians, much like wookiees, kept their word no matter the consiquence. Mrkahh awaited the responce, hoping for it to be bearable.

Mrakhh awoke again. He blinked about four times then sat up. He shook the confusion out of his head as he remembered everything that had happened. He looked at his fingers that had been sliced off, and remembered the pain he had went through in his captivity. Hatred grew in him. Instead of trying to escape, like Mrakhh had attempted last time, he started to consider his other options. Mrakhh turned and faced towards the security camera that was watching him like a hawk. He didn't know if the camera had sound or not, but he simply spoke to it, hoping that the Mandolorian was watching. "Mrkahh believes it's time to talk." With that said, Mrakhh sat there, ready for anything that came through the door. It could be a stun blaster or it could be a man willing to negotiate. Only the force knew.

Mrakhh awoke. The drugs seem to have worn off. The togorian remembered how he had been beaten in the fight before being taken captive. He decided it was time to escape. He couldn't tell exactly how long he had been knocked out, but he was thirsty enough to realize that it had been a while. He also realized that another captive was in the cage with him. But he was knocked out cold. Wasting no more time observing, he started trying to bend the bars of the cage. The bars were quite strong and Mrakhh wasn't sure if he could bend them enough. He realized that it would take in a while. As he started working, Mrakhh looked at his fingers that were now only stubs. With renewing anger, he started bending the bars with more anger and strength. If he kept this up, he might be able to actually escape soon.

"Nobody hired me... I'm doing this for honor, and fun, if you want to call it that. Its plausible that you might defeat me today, but hear my words, Force users will fall. There is nothing you can do to stop this. Even if you manage to beat me here more will follow. I can promise you that." Mrakhh, now on the ground, without fingers or any sort of advantaged, considered the words of the Mandolorian. The human warrior was wrong of course. Even though Force users may fall, the force would never leave. Mrakhh knew enough to see that the force is what binds everything together, what defines good and evil, and keeps everything from falling apart. ”

Pain. Pain is what you had to experience to be successful. Pain was an object that no man could avoid in life. Pain was what Mrakhh was going through right now. Pain that would make most men cry. But pain was Mrakhh's friend. He had experienced pain far too many times to let it stop him now. But, of course every man, including Mrakhh, had his limits to how much pain he could go through. Mrakhh was almost to that limit. He had been shot, punched, and fried. The three were a horribly painful combination. But if it was the price for success, Mrakhh would take it. The Togorian, still being cooked alive, struggled to get himself out of the way of the flamethrower. When his attempt failed, he simply drew one of his vibro-blades, with his working right arm, and chucked it at the mandolorian who was still floating in the air. It seemed that the force was with Mrakhh. He had scored a hit. While the flailing mandolorian came in for a rough landing, Mrakhh realized that he had scored a hit on the mandolorian's chest. Sadly, it didn't pierce the mandolorian ore, the vibro-blade had only set the mandolorian off balance. When the skilled mercenary landed, with a surprising amount of elegance, Mrakhh took off toward him. He had faith in himself that he could defeat the scum, but now Mrakhh was more then just in pain, he was tired. He was being worn down slowly. Shev”¦ When Mrakhh reached the skilled man, he grabbed his remaining vibro-blade and swiped it at the man three times. The mandolorian avoided the attempted cuts and seemed ready to dodge any other attack. Frustrated with how quick the Mandolorian was, Mrakhh decided just to fight him in the old fashion way, with brute force. He tackled the mandolorian and then tore his helmet off. ”œWho hired you to capture me!?”

Mrakhh stood there, his sight as well as his sense of direction had been shocked. He was confused and misdirected. He could feel the stun bolts burning on his fur. He had been tricked, terribly. How could Mrakhh of been so stupid! He felt like just giving up and falling over or running away. But both of those options would be submitting and accepting a loss. Mrakhh remembered last time he had lost. It had been by a small girl, who had removed the Togorian's head and put it on a pole as a trophy. Mrakhh, enraged at the memory, blindly launched himself at one of the sources of blaster bullets. When he reached the man, Mrakhh lifted the man up out of anger and snapped his spine over the Togorian's leg, permantly disabling him if not killing him. Mrakhh's sight began to return, he could see four more men, one of them in mandolorian armor. He would fight the mandolorian after the others, to saving the best kill for last. Mrakhh sprinted at another man, who was spraying stun bolt's at mrakhh. Though the blaster bolt's were weakening mrakhh, his adreniline kept him strong and aware. His sight became more clear by the minute. Once Mrakhh reached his target he lifted the human up and threw him into another one of his comrads. The both colided and crashed into a tree, both uncouncience but far from dead. Mrakhh spun quickly and threw a sc'rath at the last minion standing. The trusty dagger scored a hit to the man's heart, killing him before he hit the floor. Finally, tired and worn, Mrakhh turned towards the Mandolorian. The large hunter was tired, too tired to fight a well trained Mandolorian that was not even slighty worn. Mrakhh drew his dagger out. He was a Togorian, both stronger and more skillful as a hunter then the man in front of him. Not only was Mrakhh a Togorian, but he was a Jedi trainee, soon to be trained by one of the most respected Jedi in the order. He would not let Master Darkfire down and he would not let himself down. Consider this a wedding gift, master... Mrakhh launched himself at the mandolorain, tired and hurt, but with a Togorian passion that no human could match. (1)

While Mrakhh waited for the COMM to come, he thought about what he was being asked to do... Before he could think about it too much, he recieved the COMM he had been waiting for. The artifact is located at the base of a tree at [insert coordinates]. Dig up the artifact and be on your way. A pleasure doing business with you. Do with it what you wish, but make sure that you make the right descion on where to take it. Mrakhh frowned. Something didn't smell right. He would have to keep up his guard. It was times like this when he wished he had a real connection to the force. Mrakhh zoomed his ship down for a quick but precise landing close to the coordinates. Then, before jumping out of his ship, he grabbed his weapons. As the Togorian made himself towards the important artifact, his nose twitched. Something really was not right here... Mrakhh let his nose lead him to where he found a mercinary in a tree, who looked well trained, pointing a blaster at the place where the artifact was supposed to be. Mrakhh climbed the tree silently then with equel silence, snapped the mercinaries neck. From where he was, Mrakhh couldn't see anymore men waiting to kill him. His best option was to take the artifact and run. The Togorian jumped from the tree and started digging with all his might at where the artifact was buried. He finaly reached the artifact and made a grab at it. To Mrakh's surprise, a flash bang went off, temperaroly blinding him. But a Togorian hunter did not act only on his sense of eye sight, but his sense of smell, hearing, and feeling. Before anyone could re-act, Mrakhh was running through the forest. Luckily, he was firmiliar with this terrian. Mrakhh's confidence started to return with his eye sight. Let the hunt begin... (Sorry about the spelling errors. I made the post quickly)

Mrakhh blasted out of hyperspace on to the planet known as Myrke. Hopefully the man who had contacted him was here. Mrakhh flew his ship around, hovering at about 30 meters off the ground. Then he landed his ship. The Togorian then waited in his cockpit for the man to contact him.

Mrakhh read the secure COMM that he had recieved. The Togorian didn't like what the COMM said, but he might as well do as the man requested. His master needed time before he started training Mrakhh anyways. Mrakhh started towards his ship after putting away the library book about lightsabers. He had learned a lot about lightsabers in the last few hours. The Togorian couldn't wait until he could actually construct his own, but he knew that the oppurtunity for that would come in time. Maybe a long time or maybe a short time. Mrakhh climbed into his ship, The Suicide, and blasted off towards space. When he was in space, he set coordinates for the planet of Myrkr and blasted into hyperspace.

Even in the most bright and sunny days, like today, there were shadows. And in one of those shadows, sat Mrakhh. Watching the joyful wedding between Aryian Darkfire and Armiena Draygo. The wedding was quite different from those on Togoria, but all weddings had the mood of happiness to them. The Togorian made a small grin. He was happy for his master. Though he still had not gotten to know Master Darkfire, he could tell that this wedding had been long awaited. Mrakhh would give his master time to go on his honeymoon before bothering him about official training. Seeing the wedding sort of made Mrakhh homesick, but he shook it off. He was a jedi now, not just some homesick Togorian. When Mrakhh saw that the wedding was starting to come to an end, he stood up and walked back to study more about lightsabers.

"I will train you. I, Aryian Darkfire, Jedi Master, take you as my Padawan learner until you should achieve the rank of Jedi Knight. I train hard and strong, but you seem like the type who could handle it." Mrakhhs mouth almost dropped open. He hadn't quite been expecting such a... straight forward answer. If Mrakhh asks a blunt question, he gets a blunt answer... Mrakhh over heard Master Darkfire tell his companion something, about a wedding. And a honeymoon. It was clear that they had much to talk about and discuss. Mrakhh bowed respectfuly, nodded his thanks and was about to quickly ask what he should do in the meantime, until he thougth something. Though it didn't seem like a thought. More like Part of his brain telling the other part something. You have some free time as of now, we won't begin combat intensive training until I am ready. You may wish to visit the library here though on the subject of lightsabers...that will be the first thing you do. Mrakhh then understood. It was his master. Using the force to make Mrakhhs mind think such thoughts. Before Mrakhh turned to go to the library, he thanks his master quickly and then left. Mrakhh's grinned. He finaly had a master that could train him. After all of this time. As mrakhh made it into the library, he looked for a book on the subject of lightsabers. When he found one, he sat down in a corner to study it. ((Excuse my posts lack creativity, I had to remake the post twice because of computer problems.))

Mrakhh walked along the temple thinking about what he was going to do. Mrakhh needs to seek training... But where would Mrakhh find it? Ask someone who would know where to find it... Mrakhh nodded in agreement with himself, and started off towards a group of three people up ahead. He looked at one of the men((Aryian Darkfire)) who seemed to be a high ranking jedi, or so Mrakhh hoped he was. Mrakhh decided that that jedi would be the best to ask about training. Mrakhh approached the group, nodded at each of them, and spoke to the Jedi. "Excuse me, my name is Mrakhh. Mrakhh is a Togorian. Mrakhh was wondering if you would know how Mrakhh could become trained to be a Jedi, like so many of the people here." Mrakhh then stepped back. His statement was rather blunt and straight to the point, but then again, Togorians were not known for beating around the bush.

Mrakhh blocked the attempted whip crack towards his midsection with ease. He then lowered his training blade as a sign of ending the practice duel. "Thank you. Mrakhh was honored to fight with you." With that the Togorian put the training blade back in it's place and started to walk off again, not quite knowing where he would go next, but hoping that he would find where he needed to be.

Mrakhh spun out of the way of the incoming whip. The whip missed him, but not far enough for the Togorians comfort. Mrakhh saw the whip coming in for another sweep at his legs. Mrakhh intercepted the hit with his training blade and, with a twist of his wrist, wrapped the Feeorin's whip around the blade. Mrakhh then pulled on the blade with all his might, hoping throw the handle of the laser whip out of the Feeorin's grasp. The Togorian succeded, and the laser whip was tossed to the other side of the room. Mrakhh grinned and then came in for a second attack, aiming for one of the Feeorin's tendrils that were hanging from it's head. ((You can recover your whip, I just posted getting rid of it to make the practice a little more intresting. My apologies if that action was unfair to you.))