Jump to content

Meku Simka

Roleplaying Application
  • Posts

    17
  • Joined

  • Last visited

  • Days Won

    4

Everything posted by Meku Simka

  1. For a moment, Mekuma was shocked. He had been fully expecting Master Sarna to use some kind of amazing Force power or skill and heal the Sergeant, even though he himself could feel his presence in the Force dissipating rapidly. He honestly had not expected Sandy to just help him along to the Mist-Beyond. However, when Meku paused for a moment to contemplate, he realized that was doing the Jedi Master injustice. Yes, it was true that some people could not be saved, no matter how much one tried. It was a bitter truth, and one difficult to digest for Meku now that he thought about it. He had always had this theatrical notion that Jedi Masters, sufficiently strong and experienced in the Force, could do anything. He had shared such presumptions with the rest of his crèchemates, no doubt. So Sergeant Alsinon's death was a rude, albeit necessary, awakening. And in hindsight, it was wrong of him to mentally dismiss what Master Sarna had done as something insignificant. To be able to ease the most excruciating moments of someone's very existence - the demise of their corporeal form - was no small contribution. "Emotion, yet peace," he murmured under his breath, gathering his nerves. Deciding to emulate his Master, Mekuma scanned the room through the eyes of the Force. Despite the hard lesson he had just learned, he couldn't get himself to face those patients who had been colour-coded black during triage. Trudging along the gaps between the makeshift medical sleepers and grav-gurneys, Mekuma found a patient with a simple enough injury he knew he could handle easily at his level of experience. "Hello," he greeted the young girl. A Twi'lek, a Rutian unlike Keenava, and far younger. More or less similar in apparent age to Mekuma himself, she sat on a grav-gurney hovering a few inches off the ground with a sad expression on her face, pressing down on her injury with a dressing. From initial inspection of the holochart hanging off her grav-gurney, the blue-skinned youngling had a muscle-deep laceration under her left eye, about six centimeters long and two wide. She had been given the necessary first-aid and a dose of painkillers, which was she why she sat there, awaiting her turn while the more experienced healers and medical staff attended to sicker patients. Mekuma's voice caused her to look up at him, revealing brilliant eyes the colour of the sky. "'oo arre you?" she inquired, blinking curiously. The hoarseness of her voice betrayed the dehydration, her Basic enriched with a Twi'leki accent. "I'm here to help you with your injury, m'lady," Mekuma crouched down on one knee beside her gurney. "Can I see it?" "But you'rre just a kid," she frowned. "Like me. Can't I get, like, a more experrienced doctorr?" Having expected that, Mekuma laughed. "Aren't you observant? Yes, it's my first day here. Trust me though, I can help you with something as simple as a cut. But if you want, I can probably ask someone else," he glanced over his shoulder to accentuate his point, "It's just that, most of them are busy with sicker patients, so, uh... they'll take a while." He felt the scrutiny of her gaze on him, her eyes narrowing as she considered him. After a few moments, it had actually begun to make him nervous, and Mekuma thought about leaving; that perhaps she wouldn't consent. Then, suddenly, she nodded, and removed the dressing pad she had been using to press down between her left eye and cheek. "You betterr not mess up my face," she said. "I'm going to be a singerr one day, so I need my charrming good looks as well as my voice." Mekuma resisted the urge to laugh. The girl definitely had a mirthful presence about her, despite the situation. Instead, he smiled warmly. "Thank you for trusting me. I promise I'll try my best." Closing his eyes, he focused on the Force. Felt it flowing through him, through his hands, through the girl. He visualized in his mind the source of all life in the galaxy flowing through each and every cell of his patient. Focusing on the cut on her cheek, he brought his right hand up to touch her face. He could feel the cells growing naturally, replicating, beginning the process of laying down the cellular framework to replace the damaged structures. "I'm one with the Force, the Force is with me," he whispered under his breath as he directed his own inner light, the source of his life, through his hand into the girl's cheek. Willing her cells to replicate faster while numbing her pain, boosted by his own lifeforce, his own vitality, his hand began to glow a bit. But, visibly, the cut began to heal: the underlying muscle layer grew first over the bones. Then, dark blue fatty tissue began to grew over it, before the Rutian's pale blue skin began to glove over it all. In a few moments, the laceration on her cheek was gone, as if it was never there. Not even a scar remained. She giggled a bit. "'ey, zat tickles," bringing her hand to touch her injury subconsciously. Where was moments prior a deep, bloody gash, she felt soft skin. "W'at? It's gone!" she exclaimed, shocked, immediately digging into the pockets of her roughed-up dress and pulling out a small, cracked, hand-held flip mirror which she flipped open to look at her face. "It's rreally gone!" Her blue-grey eyes then found the Nautolan's face. "Zat was amazing! 'ow did you do zat?!" Mekuma couldn't resist his cheeks flushing at the look of wonder in her eyes, nor the urge to take the opportunity to gloat. "W-Well, the Light Side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities..." he shrugged as if this was just another day on the job for him (which it arguably was, even if it was his first), though not able to keep the smirk off his face. "Wow," the Rutian girl gasped in wonder, throwing the dressing she still held in her left hand into the nearest garbage bin before getting off the grav-gurney. "So, I'm frree to go?" she inquired, and Mekuma nodded as he stood up to his full height. "Are you alright otherwise?" he asked, reaching out through the Force to subtly touch the girl's mind. He could sense her fear, the severe anxiety and uncontrollable flashbacks she still had of the horrors of the war she had just experience. As Master Sarna had just shown him, Meku sent her waves of reassurance, watching as she seemed to visibly relax in his presence. "You don't have to be afraid. Those guys, whoever did that to you, they're gone. You're safe here." The girl, feeling her anxiety melt away, let her shoulders droop, relaxing in the boy's soothing aura. "Zsank you," she said, somewhat shyly, her lekku twitching with traces of delight at the release of her anxiety. She offered the boy her right hand. "My name is Sareen," she said. "Sareen Sinya." "Mekuma Simka," he answered, taking the proffered hand happily, feeling pleased with himself at having helped her, even if it was with something so relatively minor. He smirked. "Maybe you can thank me with eternal free tickets to your performances when you become a famous singer." Sareen answered with a delighted giggle.
  2. "Mekuma Simka," he introduced himself to the dark-skinned Twi'lek in response, as he took back the scrubs she had returned. Not knowing what to do with them, he placed them on top of a nearby medical trolley. Meku found himself a bit disheartened - his head-tresses drooping ever so-slightly - when Keenava instead went and accepted something else to wear from a bunch of strange sentients she seemed to know. He actually even felt a little embarrassed that he had gone through all that clothes-searching for nothing. So what if they were scrubs; they were in a triage unit. She wouldn't have looked anything out of the ordinary, even if she had worn them... Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to his Master. Meku blinked, processing what Sandy had just said, as he looked around, his sharp eyesight picking up the casualties of war being treated in the triage unit. He recoiled internally at the thought of having to go through all that suffering again; empathy with the oppressed was one of the most difficult things to bear. It had been painful enough the first time, but the thought of having to go through all of that again... Meku breathed in and out deeply, once, opening himself up to the Force. He let the Light flow in, soothing his nerves. He was a Jedi; or at least, trying to be one. This was something he would have to learn to live with. One couldn't clean the gutters without getting one's hands dirty, after all. "Alright," he said, feeling far less anxious and more determined than before. "I'm ready, my Master."
  3. Tags: @Sandy Sarna, @Keenava Dira Meku blinked slowly. A bit calmer now, he clipped his lightsaber back to his belt. At the stage Meku was in, the concept of redemption was still foreign to him. His naive mind could not fathom that someone as far gone as a Sith Lord could ever repent and return to the Light Side. So the thought never occurred to him that Keenava would be a redeemed Sith Lady. He was, therefore, genuinely perturbed by the vague response the dark-skinned Twi'lek gave in response to the question of her loyalty. Still, even without the Force, through casual observation and passively through his head-tresses, he could sense the shame and embarrassment emanating from her. His beady black eyes scanned across her frame, a light purplish blush rising to his cheeks as he took note of her wardrobe (or lack thereof), and he glanced away out of modesty, scanning the Triage Unit for something he could offer the woman. His eyes caught sight of the door to a scrubbing area in the far corner. "Excuse me a moment," he offered Sandy and the Twi'lek, before quickly pacing towards the scrubbing area. Sandy and Keenava would take this opportunity to talk between themselves before Meku returned with a spare set of white medic scrubs. He quickly held the medical scrubs up for Keenava to take. "Best that could be managed considering we're a bit wanting when it comes to shopping centers at present," he said to Keenava, eyes firmly trained towards the ground to avoid an accidental glance. He was still a teenager, after all, and unwarranted sexual thoughts were a distraction from the Force. Meku perked up the moment Sandy gave him the small pep talk, absorbing the waves of encouragement and wisdom radiating off of the elder Jedi. He smiled at her back as she showed him, practically, how to reach out towards the gem of hope that he had been focusing on, and how to bring it up to the surface. Closing his eyes,, Meku extended his right palm towards the woman, wincing as the onslaught of memories and emotions that Sandy was feeling from the woman impacted him. It was horrific and sobering, though he was not as deeply impacted as Keenava was, considering he hadn't lived through a similar life. The onslaught of emotional pain and turmoil disoriented him, but once he realized it was the woman's emotions he was feeling, Meku followed Sandy's spiritual guidance to once again reach for the gem of hope buried within, observing through the Force as Sandy brought it up to the surface. A small smile returned to his features as he felt the love the woman had for her now gone family empower her, and himself as well. In the back of his mind, Mekuma wondered if he, too, would ever experience that kind of familial love for someone. He supposed he did, for his parents and some of his crèchemates. His parents had left him at the Temple long before could form a strong bond with them, though, and he only saw them once a year before his father died. He had been unable to even visit his mother back on Glee Anselm since then due to the state of the Galaxy. He found himself yearning for that feeling: love, compassion and affection. It was rejuvenating, and he couldn't help but feel mildly jealous of this patient of theirs, despite her state, for having had the opportunity to cherish something so profound a feeling in her heart and mind. "... Amazing, Master. Thank you," Meku answered, after a moment of silent contemplation and reflection at his Master's concluding remarks, thoroughly grateful for that lesson. He glanced around the triage unit, looking to find another patient he could attempt to help in the same way his Master had helped this woman.
  4. Meku nodded, taking Sandy's proffered hand and shaking it once in greeting. Ever-observant, he noticed the small frown that graced her features when he introduced himself, and couldn't help but sag his shoulders in defeat. She doesn't think much of me, he sighed, perturbed, wondering what he should do now. Nonetheless, he followed her into the medical bay, not knowing what else to do or how to impress her. The pain and suffering was palpable, even without the Force. His heart fell as he saw the suffering of the refugees. Through the Force, he could sense their pain. Physical pain was mostly dealt with using analgesics and, for those versed in the art, Force healing. What truly crushed him was the emotional pain, that undulated in the Force - the pain of loss and separation felt by those who had lost their loved ones, their homes, and their lives. He was instantly reminded of the night that the Sith had attacked the Felucia Temple; the fear and sorrow that he and all the other younglings had experienced. He recalled how the senior Padawans and Knights who had evacuated them had given them hope, teaching them to focus through the Killing Intent and Dark Side that permeated the air that night and connect with the Light at the end of the tunnel. The Nautolan immediately sought for that cure. Spreading out his senses, he reached deeper into the hearts of each patient and found within many of them the radix that still kept them going: the gem of hope. The hope for a better future, hope in the Jedi and the brave soldiers of the Alliance. Connecting with that deep, constructive feeling, he felt himself relax. His black eyes narrowed, resolve hardening to steel. One day, he would become a powerful Jedi; powerful enough to prevent casualties like this from ever happening. "I learned the basics of the Force skills: sensing, altering and control," he spoke up, voice steady, although he still had to focus in order to mask his anxiety and discomfort. "I-I am also... I'm also well-versed in the basics of lightsaber combat forms, and my preferred forms are Soresu and Ataru. I like to use them... in combination," he continued, eyes staring at a refugee being treated using a bacta patch, focusing on the relief he felt immediately after compared to the pain he was in before. "I have also observed Healers at work, though I would hardly know much about that..." Suddenly, out of nowhere, a huge, peculiar droid showed up, startling Meku, whose hand went to his lightsaber clipped to his belt out of reflex when Ruin showed up. His make and model were wholly unfamiliar to the Nautolan, and there were probably quite a few wires loose in its vocabulator with the way it was speaking. Then it identified a nearby Twi'lek female using the word 'Sith', and the inexperienced Nautolan, startled, froze. "T-That... that's a vocabulator glitch, right? You're no Sith," he spoke to the Twi'lek, nonetheless unclipping his lightsaber from his belt and holding it in his hand. He spared a glance at Master Sarna. "T-There's no way a Sith could..." he trailed off, sparing a glance at Master Sarna again. 'Get this close to a Jedi Master', were the words he left unsaid, yet his grip nevertheless tightened around his lightsaber, thumb resting upon the blade emitting button.
  5. Well, he hadn't really expected that to work. Not to this level of accuracy, anyways. Lo and behold, there she stood. The woman in the holocrons he had been inquiring into for the past several weeks, since he had been informed of his apprenticeship to her. She looked younger than he had thought her to be from her hololikeness, yet still quite a bit older than him. Her presence was like the sun; blazing in the Force, both illuminating and blinding at the same time. "M-Master Sarna," He gave a short, courteous bow. So, she had not been informed regarding him. Or, more likely, the relief efforts and the general disarray of the Galaxy's present state had kept her too busy to keep up with a relatively mundane matter such as this. "I-I... you are," He blurted out, before no doubt realizing he was being a blabbering, confusing mess. Shaking his head, he stood at attention, breathing slowly and recentering himself in the Light as he pulled back the hood of his robe, revealing his tentacled head, staring up at Sandy with bright black orbs. "I mean... my name is Mekuma Simka, I'm a Hopeful from the Felucia Temple. I have been assigned to Jedi Master Sandy Sarna, as a Padawan learner..."
  6. En route to Ylesia, aboard the Gallofree-class medium transport Pacifier Cha Raaba system, Hutt Space Down the Triellus Trade Route "*ding* *ding* *ding* *ding* *static* *ding**ding**ding**ding* A'right, how'se this go 'gain? Er... Attention, this is yer captain speaking. Can't believe I'm sayin' this cuz honestly I was the last one expectin' to come outta this one alive, folks, but we're almost planetside!" The announcement had done little to soothe anyone's nerves on board, least of all Mekuma's. The young Nautolan stood, hands clasped behind his back, staring at the blue clouds of hyperspace through a viewport in the cargo hold of the transport. To say it had been a long and tiresome journey would be a huge understatement. Meku didn't even know how long it had been since he had left the Felucia Temple, but with so much of the known Galaxy under the hegemony of the Sith Empire, it had become increasingly difficult to find safe passage through the more popular trade routes. It had been difficult enough getting aboard a relief convoy from Rebel-controlled worlds to Ylesia. The Sith were giving bad press to lightsaber-wielders everywhere, and it had been a pain trying to assure the ship's captain and security personnel that he, the young teenager that he was, was indeed with the Jedi from the Felucia Temple on a sojourn to Ylesia and not a disguised Sith Acolyte intending to murder them all in their sleep. Still, it had been an illuminating journey. For someone like Meku, who had never stepped foot outside the Temple except when it had been attacked all those months before, traveling down half the entire Eastern rim of the Galaxy on his own had been one heck of an adventure. Tiring, but still fun. Ultimately, the idea of finally meeting his Master came to his mind and the Nautolan perked up, suddenly feeling enthusiastic about it all. "Hyperspace reversion in Trill-minus five, four, three, two..." Closing his beady black eyes as he placed a blue-skinned hand on the viewport, he watched as, with a jerk, the blue clouds of hyperspace fell as shimmering stars onto the black backdrop of the Galaxy. In front of him, the wild, tropical world of Ylesia, so similar to Felucia in many ways. Meku was filled with a sense of wonder and anticipation as the planet grew nearer. He could not wait to meet his Master, and at the same time, he was dreading that meeting more than anything. This was arguably scarier than that time the Sith had attacked the Felucia Temple. How would his Master react to his presence? Had she even been informed that she had been assigned another Padawan? He did have the official holorecording bearing the seal of the Jedi Grand Master with him, stating that Mekuma Simka had been assigned as an apprentice to Master Sandy Sarna, who was to supervise his Jedi training. Just to make sure she wouldn't think she was some kind of imposter or miscreant pulling her leg. Would she accept him as an apprentice, or cast him aside so that he would end up having made this entire perilous journey in vain? Would he be a burden on her, an intrusion distracting her from her more important duties as a front-line peace-keeper in this war-torn era? He knew it was a difficult time for everyone, especially the highest-ranking members in the Jedi Order and he definitely didn't want to be a burden or a distraction from their more important duties, yet, at the same time, he was eager to learn. Especially from someone like Master Sarna. He had never met the woman, never even seen her, but she was no doubt one of the most famous Jedi in the entire Order. She was one of the big names. Every youngling dreamed of being apprenticed either to her, or to Master Kil, or, of course, Grand Master Draygo. He looked at his hand, on the viewport, Yselia growing ever larger as their transport made planetfall. It was quivering. With excitement or anxiety, he couldn't tell. Likely both. Emotion, yet peace, he mentally chided himself, closing his eyes and meditating to soothe his nerves, like he had been taught in the Crèche. It did little to quell his curiosity-slash-dread, though. Eventually, the ship docked, and soon enough, Meku was tottering down the boarding ramp in a sea of other relief workers, a huge survival backpack strapped to his back and his grey cowl drawn over his eyes to conceal his features. Looking up at the midday sun of Ylesia, the Hopeful reached out with the Force in the general direction of the refugee base. He was a far cry from a master at Force-sensing, but he did have a very basic idea of the skill. Not that he expected it to work, but if Master Sarna was there somewhere, maybe she would detect his probing and... maybe be impressed and accept him as a Padawan?
  7. MEKUMA SIMKA Identity Real Name: Mekuma Simka A.K.A: Meku Homeworld: Glee Anselm, Glee Anselm system, Jalor sector Species: Nautolan Physical Description Age: 15 Height: 5'6" Weight: 130 lbs Hair: None; has multiple sensory tentacles emerging from his head instead, eight of them covered by a pair of brown bands each Eyes: Large, beady black Sex: Male A Nautolan, Meku Simka is an amphibious humanoid of average height for his age, standing at 5'6" with bluish-violet skin. Fourteen tentacles the same shade as his skin emerge from his head, some covered by brown bands and allowed to fall onto his shoulders. A Padawan braid made of Silka beads hangs from the right side of his head. Possessing sharp, midnight-black eyes reflecting the galaxy around them, he has well-defined features common to his species. Of a cheerful mien, Simka's typical expression is a playful smirk, which adds to his overall exuberant persona. Despite this, however, Simka's deep black eyes reflect the look of an astute, dexterous and penetrating young Anselmian. Of a naturally thin and lean build thanks to his heritage, the boy is incredibly flexible and agile, and has a tendency to jump around. Equipment Clothing or Armor: Meku typically prefers to dress in typical Jedi Padawan apparel; simple and comfortable long, flowing robes, of alternating cream and sea-grey shades. A cream overtunic with a grey trim over a cream-coloured undertunic, cream-coloured loose-fitting pants that reach down to his ankles, tucked into white calf-high boots. This is all held together at his waist by a chocolate-coloured belt with a plasteel silver buckle, to which his lightsabers are attached. Over this all is a grey Jedi cloak, the cowl often drawn to cover his tentacles. Weapon: Training lightsaber (blue blade), a heavy blaster pistol. Common Inventory: Pocket Secretary Cee-Three, an R2-series Astromech (R2C3) Faction Information Force User, Force Sensitive or Non-Force User: Force User. Alignment: Good. Current Faction Affiliation: Jedi Order. Current Faction Rank: Jedi Hopeful. History Force Side: Light Trained by: Unassigned Trained who: None Known Skills: Agile and flexible; a natural acrobat Possesses naturally great reflexes Exceptional piloting talent Background: Mekuma was born on the tail end of the last galactic civil war and at the dawn of the Galactic Alliance, on a simple coral farm on Glee Anselm to Similtar Simka, and Miklara Reduli, both Nautolans. His father, Simka, had actually been a Jedi Master of great prowess, and also the master of Jedi Master Karra Rezuli, a Nautolan and the sister of his future wife. Similtar Simka had chosen to leave the Temple and move in with Lumiklara on Glee Anselm after their marriage, who was in fact a simple farm girl and from whose side of the family the coral farm came from. Preferring a life of patient labor on the water world of Glee Anselm, Similtar was the first to notice his son's Force-sensitivity, the second being the now Jedi Master Karra Rezuli, who was paying a visit to her old Master and her sister's homestead. With some reluctance, Similtar nonetheless handed the infant Mekuma to Master Reduli, and she took the boy back with her to the Felucia Jedi Temple. Training in the ways of the Force, the initiate Simka would often meet Karra Rezuli during his studies, who took a natural interest in her nephew and her Master's son, and would give him pointers every now and then. Eventually, Master Rezuli would leave the Jedi Order and join the Imperial Knights, and Simka did not take too kindly to the loss of his aunt. He grew up in the Felucia Jedi Temple to be a sharp-witted boy, wise beyond his years. He would take quickly to the holocrons he studied. He was also a natural in a cockpit: at the age of eight, Simka wowed his crèche-mates and even his elders by achieving one of the highest flight simulator scores achieved since the formation of the Galactic Alliance, and he would continuously break his own record as he grew. His proficiency in the cockpit was a result of his intensely potent connection to the Force. Meku, as a youngling in the Felucia Temple Crèche During his years at the Temple growing up, Simka was often visited by his father as well, especially in his later years after the Seige of Onderon and the Cataclysm of Coruscant, when even Jedi who were no longer associated with the Order were called on again to assist against the rising Sith Empire. However, Similtar Simka would lay down his life during the counterattack at Onderon, leaving Simka orphaned and his mother - still on Glee Anselm - widowed. Eventually, Simka would take his Hopeful Trails, passing them to the satisfaction of the Felucia Jedi Temple elders in the hopes of being apprenticed to a great Master and properly learning the ways of the Force. Ship Registration Name: Akcinor Five Class: Stealth Starfighter Model: TIE/vn space superiority fighter (TIE silencer) Manufacturer: Sienar-Jaemus Fleet Systems Length: 17.43 meters (57.190 ft) Armaments: Medium SJFS L-s9.6 laser cannons (4) SJFS L-7.5 heavy laser cannons (2) Missile launchers (2) Arakyd ST7 concussion missiles Mag-pulse warheads Proton torpedoes Armor: Armored cockpit canopy Anti-Personnel Defenses: Deflector shield generator and projector Modifications: Akcinor Five is a standard-issue TIE/vn space superiority fighter (TIE silencer) dating from the third decade ABY, with parts retrofitted for the second century ABY Other systems: Advanced stealth field generator Appearance:
  8. Simka led the mass of younglings he had rounded up from the Crèche straight towards the designated alcove, letting Amyko gather all the others whom he could not reach. Amyko had, in turn, recruited a lot more younglings and hopefuls to the cause, including her friends Karra, a Kel Dor and Uzem, a Firrerreo, and soon enough, as the storm began to dwindle, the Seed of Lehon's Jedi had all been gathered at a single assembly point, near enough to their presumed extraction point: the Landing Pads. Simka halted suddenly when he felt a fire in the Force suddenly snuff out. The feeling that followed was ominous and foreboding; a void, like a black hole borne out of the implosion of a giant star. Blinking, Simka took a few anxious steps out into the dwindling storm again, using his arms to shield his eyes but nonetheless facing the general direction of the void. Darkness unopposed, reaching out to him in waves. Beckoning, beguiling, seductive... It came, suddenly, literally slamming into his face in the wind. Simka caught the fabric and pulled it off his face, bringing his hand up to observe what looked to be a Jedi cloak. As it flapped violently against the gusts, threatening to fly out of his hand should he so much as loosen his grip even slightly, Simka nonetheless felt a sort of comfort and warmth emanating from it. Traces of the very same Light that, he could tell, was no longer here to shield them all. Explosions rocked his world not soon after, and Simka looked up to see the Sith ships, swarming down over the Temple like a swarm of star-locusts. The Padawan didn't need to know what needed to be done next. "Amyko, Karra, Uzem, everybody, follow me!" Garbing himself in the Cloak he had just caught, the Padawan closed his eyes and focused. Simka reached out into the boundless ocean of light, unlocking its flood-gates and letting it fall into him and through him, thus enabling him to emanate as much of the Light as he could. While it would render him exposed to the Sith and anyone who could sense the Light, thus putting him at risk, his purpose in doing so was to give the younglings and hopefuls around him something to hold onto through the Consuming Darkness, lest its horrific iniquity overtake their still-underdeveloped psyches. It was in thus manner that the Padawan led the swathe of younglings from the alcove down to the Temple Grounds and through them towards the Landing Pads, as he opened himself up to the Pervading Light and allowed it to direct him towards the safest route, farthest from the blaster fire, the screams and the stench of cauterized flesh.
  9. Background Music: The Force Theme - Epic Cinematic Simka took in the Temple, soaking in the serenity that radiated from the place with closed, content eyes. He opened his aquamarine orbs to look at his Master, taking in her words and her instructions as they strolled from the landing pads towards the Temple interior. He had seen the offer of apprenticeship coming for a while now, even since Master Leena had taken an unusual amount of interest in him back on Felucia. Still, that didn't make it any less special when she actually called him 'Padawan' for the very first time. Allowing the rain to drench him, Simka smiled kindly and bowed formally before his Master in acknowledgement. "Thank you, Master..." Simka then followed Leena into the Temple, aquamarine eyes darting about as he took in its exquisite beauty, rain-drenched boots squelching with each step. Unlike most people, Simka adored the rain. For some inexplainable reason, it always brought peace to his heart. Perhaps it was because his homeworld, Mirial, was known to be dry and desolate, or perhaps there was some other reason that he had yet to unearth. In any case, the one thing about this entire precarious situation he suddenly found himself in that he actually was relieved about, was the climate. Again, Simka adored rain. As Leena motioned him into the alcove, Simka followed, but still a short distance outside, not truly entering the alcove so that the raindrops could still reach his skin. He let the rain pelt against his body, enjoying the feeling of the cool water against his jade skin. He nodded calmly to his Master she imparted him advise and instructions, before turning around and beginning to leave. His Master spoke again, and the rain-drenched Mirialan turned around, only to find a healing crystal pressed into his hand. His eyes widened and, despite the absurd tension of the situation, he couldn't help but grin. "Wow. Whoa... Oh wow," he exclaimed, shaking his head. The gentle, loving and comforting aura of the healing crystal nuzzled against the palm of his hand, and he felt the pristine vivaciousness it contained within his heart. Simka looked at Master Leena with pure, unadultered gratitude and admiration. "T-Thanks, Master... I wasn't expecting this, it means a lot." He nodded firmly at her, taking in her instructions to heart, before he took off across the open Temple Grounds, disappearing into the rain. He made sure to safety pocket the healing crystal given to him, and quickly stopped the first youngling he found. "Greetings, young one." "H-Hello Master," the small Togruta, a clearly frightened one, looked up at him with huge green eyes. She couldn't have been older than four or five. Simka smiled warmly down at her, flinching a bit at a thunderstroke in the skies above. He gestured her towards another alcove, and for the first time, the rain-soaked Padawan stepped out of the storm with the youngling following. His robes felt like an anchor weighing down his own body as he did so, and he wiped the water out of his face and eyes. Love the weather...! Simka then returned his focus to the confused youngling whose attention he had bought, crouching down on one knee so he was level with her. "First of all, little one, I'm not a Master. I just got one myself. You can call me," he paused, realizing it was his first time actually acknowledging his newly acquired rank. "Padawan Suume." The Togruta nodded, giving a formal bow, exhibiting good Jedi etiquette that had obviously been drilled into her like they were into all those who grew up at the Temple. "Greetings, Padawan Suume. My name is Amyko Rani. W-What do you need me for?" Simka gave the youngling a warm smile, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Are you afraid, young one? Do you sense it?" The Dark Side? he didn't say the last three words out aloud, but it was obvious what was being spoken of. The little Togruta nodded rapidly, talking a couple steps forwards and leaning closer into Simka's much larger body for comfort. Simka's eyes grew softer, for he too felt what she felt, and he had needed his own Master's presence to anchor him. So, remembering a bit of the lessons he had recently learned, he allowed the Light to conduct through him into the little Togruta girl, bringing her warmth and comfort. "The Dark Side is strong, but a small candle is enough to light up a whole chamber enshrouded in darkness," said the Padawan to the youngling, catching her amazed eyes. "Now, I need your help. We need to do something, something that is very important for all of us, to help us defeat the Dark Side you're sensing," he explained, and she nodded at him. "Point me in the direction of the Temple's crèche complex. Then, go around the place and round up as many of your friends as you can that aren't there right now. Tell them to join up with me by that alcove," he pointed in the direction of the alcove where Master Leena had given him the healing crystal and declared his apprenticeship moments prior. "Next to the landing pads. Tell them to spread the word, too. I want everybody there in fifteen minutes. You got that, Miss Rani?" The orange-skinned Togruta nodded enthusiastically. "On it, Padawan Suume!" she exclaimed, earning a chuckle from the new-minted Padawan, before she took his hand and began dragging him towards the crèche complex. In due time, younglings and hopefuls throughout the Temple began to move, gathering in a single place next to the landing pads from whence a hasty evacuation could be easily and safely accomplished...
  10. Lehon, once known as Rakata Prime Tempered Wastes, Unknown Regions Simka had developed, during his time in the Temple growing up, a sort of unhealthy obsession with star-charts. He would often be engrossed in the hologalaxy in the library of the Felucia Jedi Temple during his childhood, wondering if he would ever be able to be to all the known regions. So, while this entire trip had, so far, been a surprise to the young Mirialan - from finding out the famous Master Leena Kil was interested in mentoring him to seeing hyperspace in all its azure glory for the very first time - nothing came close to the fact that his first trip was not towarda any of the known regions of the Galaxy but, in fact, the even cooler alternative: the Unknown Regions. "But, why Lehon?" he wondered out loud as he wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead, heaved in a deep breath and relaxed his form, having practiced the Form I katas throughout their trip. He brought the durasteel cylinder that constituted his training lightsaber up and stared at it. Master Leena had basically helped him fry the blade power adjustment knob, and that meant his training saber had actually become quite a bit dangerous. He twirled the hilt around in his hand and ignited the saber, the blue plasma blade snap-hissing to life. Blue was not really his colour, he thought. Simka was attempting to resume training in the Form I katas as his Master had instructed when klaxons started blaring and a moment later, they had dropped out of hyperspace. Simka wobbled a bit for a second, this being his first time dropping out of hyperspace in an actual freighter outside of a flight simulator. "Whoa," the Mirialan grinned, yet only a second later the expression of awed delight was wiped off of his face. Klaxons started blaring again, though this time, the entire crew suddenly shifted to emergency mode. Master Leena grabbed him and seated the stunned boy forcefully, and Simka quickly snapped out of his stupor once the situation started making sense to him. "Kriff. I'm actually up against Sith now?!" he exclaimed. Que Epic Force Music Finding himself panicking, the Mirialan boy quickly reached out into the Force. Waves of darkness, promising death and dripping with venom, assaulted his senses. The Sith... the Mirialan shook head, before beginning to focus through the darkness. Above it, beyond it, towards the Light. For a moment, the darkness was so suffocating that he felt his hope of reaching out to the Light ever an unreachable dream. Then, he felt it - near instead of far. Master Leena was the Light, he realized - she was his closest manifestation of it. Closing his eyes, Simka focused on his Master, finding himself being positively blinded by the intensity of her Light. Through Leena's Light, Simka connected himself to the pervading light of the Living Force. His Master's voice was an ethereal echo that seemed to come from everywhere at once as Simka meditated upon his newly-forged bond with her. Following her voice, her instructions and her presence in the Light, Simka felt a surge of power - pure, beautiful and luminescent - flow through his every vein. His eyes took on a faraway look as he opened them again, connected, through Leena, to each and every single person Leena herself was connected to through the Force. The Padawan felt his Master as she squeezed his hand, and through her, he felt the captain, the other Jedi - every friendly and every hostile. In fact, Simka was quite surprised when he felt his Master's signature in the Force intertwined with those of the hostiles, and he quickly realized with a slightly agape jaw that she was drawing strength from the smothered light that emanated even from those ambassadors of the Dark Side. Simka instinctively knew what Leena was doing, even though it was his first time actually doing it or even seeing someone do it. "Whoa..." he couldn't help but voice, but he quickly shook his head and returned to focusing again. He followed Leena's actions in the Force again, before beginning to copy her to the best of his ability. It took quite a lot out of him, he realized, as his stamina had not yet developed to employ the Force on such a vast scale. Nonetheless, through sheer focus, the Mirialan attempted to augment the morale and fighting spirit of his comrades through the Light, and attempt to boost the Light within the Sith as Leena was doing, which would have the effect of making them reconsider and feel guilty over what they were doing. In truth, Simka's contribution - due to his inexperience and present insignificance in the presence of so many powerful foes and allies - was like that of a drop falling into an ocean. Still; ultimately, it was drops that made up an ocean. So, Simka focused, his immersion in the Force preventing him from worrying too much about the insane dives and drops their freighter and its ace of a captain was presently employing. He only truly registered that they had landed in the Jedi Temple after the fact had occurred, and he felt the onslaught of Light that a nexus such as the Temple emanated against the curtain wall of his senses. Simka gasped as he disconnected himself from his attempt at joining in the Battlemind, placing a hand on his chest as he heaved in deep breaths, feeling he could finally rest for a few moments now that they were safely in the confines of the Temple. Panting, he turned towards Master Leena. "M-Master, were those... the Sith? Why are they attacking us everywhere?" the wet-behind-the-ears Padawan asked.
  11. Simka felt an otherwordly delight well up in his chest when Master Leena congratulated him, and he absorbed every word she said. He hadn't at all been prepared for the impromptu lesson he had certainly received, but it had already become a fond memory for him. Deep down, he began wishing that Master Leena would take him on as a full-time apprentice. It was a childish aspiration; no Knight had yet wanted to take him on, so how could he even expect that from a Master? '... in all our endeavours.' Wait, what? "Are you saying--?" The eccentric Jedi Master cut him off, enlisting the equipment he should bring along with him. Hours later, when Simka was ascending the boarding ramp of the freighter in the wake of Leena Kil, having ensured that he brought the stuff she had instructed him to bring, he was still mentally reeling from the implications that he was Master Leena's Padawan or something and that he eas going off world for the very first time.
  12. Background Theme - The Force Theme Extended Simka let out a breath of relief once Master Leena finally got back around to assist him. As she took over healing the Duros from the inexperienced Hopeful, the latter could only watch the literal Master work in absolute amazement. The way Master Leena used the Force and the way her presence felt in it was more amazing than what Simka could describe in words. He listened intently as she spoke, absorbing her instructions like a sponge. Simka had never been interested in the healing aspects of the Force before this, but now, he had to admit they were certainly no joke. The Hopeful followed the Master's instructions to letter, closing his eyes and withdrawing deep within himself. As the Master instructed, the Hopeful recalled his earliest lessons. His aunt's guidance, opening his mind and body up to the Force for the very first time alongside his crèche-mates. How he had opened himself up to the endless ocean of light, letting it gush down into his own self like an ethereal waterfall and cleanse away his woes and ills. Simka now reached out for that same light, letting it fall into him. This time, however, with a few deep breaths, he removed himself from the equation. Instead of falling into him, he let it flow through him, becoming a conduit and channeling the revitalizing flow through both his hands into the anaesthetized Duros' injured body. "Whoa," the Mirialan gasped. The flow of the Force filled Simka with renewed vigor, even though he was only a conduit instead of a recipient. The spiritual residue bequeathed to the Mirialan a newfound surge in vitality. More than that, Simka experienced a profound euphoria, a feeling of total bliss that could not be described in words. A superlative serenity, affixed in the deepest chambers of his heart, one that reassured him that what Simka had just done was something beyond. Beyond the wars, the politics, the divided allegiances, the sectarianism and all the conflicts and discontent that plagued the Galaxy, what Simka had just done was something... Irreproachable. Immaculate. Pure. As the Duros' body mended itself and the Hopeful innately knew it was time to withdraw, Simka turned back towards Master Leena, mouth slightly agape. He stumbled backwards a bit, as the euphoria from acting as a conduit of the Living Force settled down, suddenly feeling awkward and... bereft. "T-That was, I..." he quietened, simply staring at Leena, seeing her in a new light. Pure unadultered amazement sparkled in his pristine aquamarine eyes as he continued to stare at her. This is what she did, what she experienced, every day?! "... Incredible."
  13. Simka could only blink, silently, as the Mon Calamari trotted forwards a step ahead of him and continued to chatter. To say he was surprised by her eccentricity was an understatement. How coudl one die and be brought back to life as casually as she made it seem to have happened? She was pulling his leg, right? He tried to process all that she had been saying, and her jovial and carefree tone nonetheless made him smile. Ultimately they arrived in the medical ward, and Simka flinched as he felt the Dark Side permeating the room, even if it was no more than vanishing remnant. Like a fish out of water, he instinctually leapt for the sea: he tried to direct his senses towards the overwhelming Light that was chasing away the Darkness instead. Feeling a hand on his shoulder, the young Padawan stilled as the Jedi Master beside him continued to speak. It felt surreal; the way she was instructing him. For some reason, it felt so right, and Simka found himself absorbing her words like a sponge. He definitely jolted as he felt the rush of the Light, but the instant serenity it brought with it tempered him and he calmed, staring at the Mon Cala beside him with a wondering gaze. Shaking his head silently, the Padawan then turned to the writhing Sith soldier before him. He resisted the urge to flinch again at the Darkness he felt emanating from the man. Still, he brought his hand up, palm facing the Darksider. Closing his eyes, Simka decided to just go with it and do as told. The Mirialan's chest rose and fell in meditation. He silently observed the Force, letting the Living Force infusing the medical ward caress him and whirl about his being. He heard it sing its silent symphony, but not through his ears, but his heart. Once he felt he had reached the level of Force immersion necessary, he opened his eyes, the aquamarine orbs now carrying a faraway look. Simka took a step towards the soldier, a Duros, forcing himself with a quivering hand to stare into the patient's golden brown eyes. He felt it; the agony, the regret, the anger... Simka closed his eyes and took in a couple of deep breaths, before opening them and speaking again. "This can end," he spoke up, surprised by the calmness in his own voice even though his thoughts betrayed him, "If you want it to. Let go of the Darkness." The Duros growled at him, clenching his teeth and affixing a beastial snarl in Simka's direction. Golden eyes so vile it gave Simka goosebumps just staring into them. "You think you can turn me? You're nothing but a child." However, even the Duros was surprised by how vibrant Simka's aquamarine eyes were, as if they were piercing deep into his soul. "I have neither power nor intent to turn anyone," he voiced calmly, directing a palm in the direction of the Duros Sith soldier and attempting to emanate a placating, serene aura, hoping that the writhing Duros would reach for the tranquility like a thirsty bantha towards a moisture pit. "I merely wish to end your suffering, and if you want to, we can do it. Together. There is no going back for you, is there? But you can make the right choice here, and," Simka reached out into the Light again, finding the right words to say, "And ensure a better future for yourself, at least." The Duros attempted to answer but then screamed in agony as a jolt of pain shot through his body, before a single tear escaped his right eye. "... Help... me... I-I don't... know... how much longer..." Simka glanced at Leena and nodded at her before bringing his palm closer to the Sith Soldier's chest. "Say no more," he began to channel whatsoever he could of the Living Force, the Light and Life that permeated the galaxy and bound the Universe together, into the writhing man. He knew he could not do much in terms of actual healing - that he left to the Jedi Master qualified for such - but the Light he channeled into the Darksider fought off the dark clouds of the Bogan surrounding the Duros, having a considerable effect much to his surprise. The soldier's screaming quietened, and the tension lines on his blue-skinned forehead eased somewhat. Simka even saw the golden tinge in the Duros' otherwise normally red eyes to begin to fade... "T-That... better..." the Duros choked out. "... Please, help... more..." Simka turned to Master Leena at that. He had helped tranquilize the man but he could not actually heal him...
  14. As she continued to speak, Simka eased into casual conversation. It was not every day he could get to talk to a Jedi Master, after all. Most of those who supervised his earliest education and training were ranked Knights. There always seemed to be an invisible wall between the eldest and the youngest in any particular group or organization; that was also true in the Felucia Temple it seemed. "Thank you, Master... Leena..." he answered slowly, shoulders dropping slightly as he considered the next part of her inquiry. Tucking his hands into the sleeves of his cloak and crossing his arms underneath, the boy followed the elder Master as she seemed to take him on a tour of his own home. Still, for some reason, Simka continued to follow her and to want to converse with her. Her presence, the Light, was like a soothing balm against the backdrop of the maleficent dark side remnants still lingering in the air. Or perhaps, there was something else. There was something about this lady... "My name is Simka Suume, but you can just call me Simka of course," he answered calmly after a bit of silent contemplation, before becoming distinctly uncomfortable once the subject shifted to his training. "I-I.. well, I haven't had much training lately anyways. I mean..." He gulped, embarrassed to say it out loud. How does one go about telling a Master why none of the Knights bothered with trying to take him on as an apprentice? Even if it was largely due to circumstance, it was still humiliating...
  15. Simka had been so absorbed in focusing on his breathing cycle and releasing his emotions into the Force, that he did not even register the Mon Calamari until she spoke, startling the green-skinned Mirialan. "W-Whoa," he managed to gasp out as he looked at her, expression akin to a cattail deer caught in headlights. It took him a moment to regain enough composure to realize that he was talking to Jedi Master Leena Kil of all people. The two had never interacted before; Simka certainly would have remembered if they had. But he had grown up in this Temple, so naturally he knew all the Jedi Masters that lived or served here, at least by reputation Leena Kil was certainly one of the Jedi Masters whose repute preceded them. In fact, it would not be far-fetched to say that the Hopeful had somewhat of a fanboy. Leena Kil and Armiena Draygo were the kinds of Masters that had their own fan clubs. "Master Kil!" he gulped, before giving a short boy. Then he registered what she had said, and gulped. He did not want her of all people to experience what he was feeling. He didn't want one of his heroes to think he was a potential future dark sider or anything. Just the thought of that was scary. "I-I'm sorry," he explained, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "I didn't wish to give into to grief or anger, I just..." Lowering his hands, Simka looked around the Temple, before sighing. "They're so... vile, aren't they?" his gaze was distant as he spoke, referring obviously to Sith, the lingering remnant's of the Dark Side's presence at the very furthest edges of his senses. "I just feel so helpless. I wish I was strong enough to beat them all..." @Leena Kil
  16. Felucia Jedi Temple, Felucia Felucia system, Thanium sector Outer Rim Territories The Mirialan Hopeful merely gaped, a nimble-fingered hand trembling. He had been too shaken, too... overwhelmed... to be of any help during the Invasion. Growing up in the confines of this very Temple, Simka was indeed astute enough in the Force to be able to sense its presence. The vile darkness, the sheer absence of luminosity, the void... it was his first time actually facing it, and it had paralyzed him on the spot. As he stared out across the temple grounds of the jungle world, he quivered. The Sith had retreated, but the depravedness of their recent presence still assaulted his acute senses. More than fear, he felt guilt. He had been so numb the moment he had felt the vile presence, Simka hadn't been of any help at all, while his elder Knights and Masters had fought valiantly against the incursion. He could feel many pangs in his chest; so many voids where there once were bonds. Many had lost their lives in this battle, some whom he knew personally. With a trembling hand Simka wiped the beginnings of a tear from his eye and steeled himself. Emotion, yet peace, he chanted to himself in his mind as he strolled towards the Temple Gates. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a resting Zabrak, and he couldn't help but feel for the exhausted Knight who, he assumed, needed the rest this badly because she had been engaged in brave defense of the Temple minutes prior. Simka's grief began to turn into anger; at himself. He had passed his Hopeful Trials, yet here he was, useless. He needed to learn the ways of the Force, to ascend so he could become a defender of the peace, like her. Yet, he had no one to teach him. With the Sith attack, the Council probably had a lot more to focus on right now than a Padawan assignment. Emotion, yet peace, he chanted again, trying to recentre himself in the Light with small, calming deep breaths. Good things come to those who wait, the holocron said. He had to be patient.
  17. SIMKA SUUME'S CHARACTER SHEET Identity Real Name: Simka Suume A.K.A: Sim Homeworld: Mirial, Mirial system, Illisurevimurasi sector Species: Mirialan Physical Description Age: 15 Height: 5'6" Weight: 130 lbs Hair: Short white head crest with large grey stripes Eyes: Aquamarine Sex: Male A Mirialan, Simka Suume is a near-human of average height for his age, standing at 5'6" with bright green skin. Cinnamon-coloured hair cover his head, neatly brushed back and falling to a couple of inches below his ears, with his Padawan braid hanging from the right side of his head. Possessing sharp, aquamarine eyes, he has well-defined features common to his species. Six tiny rhomboids are arranged an upside-down triangle tattooed in dark cyan ink on the center of his forehead, as a tribute to his Mirialan mother and aunt. Of a cheerful mien, Suume's typical expression is a playful smirk, which adds to his overall exuberant persona. Despite this, however, Suume's deep blue-green eyes reflect the look of an astute, dexterous and penetrating young humanoid. Of a naturally thin and lean build thanks to his heritage, the boy is incredibly flexible and agile, and has a tendency to jump around. Equipment Clothing or Armor: Suume typically prefers to dress in typical Jedi Padawan apparel; simple and comfortable long, flowing robes, of alternating cream and chocolate shades. A brown overtunic with a gold trim over a cream-coloured undertunic, cream-coloured loose-fitting pants that reach down to his ankles, tucked into chocolate calf-high boots. This is all held together at his waist by a chocolate-coloured belt with a plasteel silver buckle, to which his lightsabers are attached. Over this all is a matching chocolate Jedi cloak, the cowl often drawn to cover his hair. Weapon: Training lightsaber (blue blade), a heavy blaster pistol. Common Inventory: Pocket Secretary Cee-Three, an R2-series Astromech (R2C3) Faction Information Force User, Force Sensitive or Non-Force User: Force User. Alignment: Good. Current Faction Affiliation: Jedi Order. Current Faction Rank: Jedi Hopeful. History Force Side: Light Trained by: Unassigned Trained who: None Known Skills: Agile and flexible; a natural acrobat Possesses naturally great reflexes Exceptional piloting talent Background: Simka was born on the tail end of the last galactic civil war and at the dawn of the Galactic Alliance, on a simple frost farm on Mirial to Similtar Suume, and Lumiklara Reduli, both Mirialans. His father, Sume, had actually been a Jedi Master of great prowess while being a renown maverick, and also the master of Jedi Master Karra Rezuli, another Mirialan and the sister of his future wife. Similtar Suume had chosen to leave the Temple and move in with Lumiklara on Mirial after their marriage, who was in fact a simple farm girl and from whose side of the family the frost farm came from. Sentencing himself to a life of patient labour as a frost farmer on his wife's dry and despondent homeworld, Similtar was the first to notice his son's Force-sensitivity, the second being the now Jedi Master Karra Rezuli, who was paying a visit to her old Master and his sister's homestead. With some reluctance, Similtar nonetheless handed the infant Simka to Master Reduli, and she took the boy back with her to the Felucia Jedi Temple. Training in the ways of the Force, the initiate Suume would often meet Karra Rezuli during his studies, who took a natural interest in her nephew and her Master's son, and would give him pointers every now and then. Eventually, Master Rezuli would leave the Jedi Order and join the Imperial Knights, and Simka did not take too kindly to the loss of his aunt. He grew up in the Felucia Jedi Temple to be a sharp-witted boy, wise beyond his years. He would take quickly to the holocrons he studied. He was also a natural in a cockpit: at the age of eight, Simka wowed his crèche-mates and even his elders by achieving one of the highest flight simulator scores achieved since the formation of the Galactic Alliance, and he would continuously break his own record as he grew. His proficiency in the cockpit was a result of his intensely potent connection to the Force. During his years at the Temple growing up, Simka was often visited by his father as well, especially in his later years after the Seige of Onderon and the Cataclysm of Coruscant, when even Jedi who were no longer associated with the Order were called on again to assist against the rising Sith Empire. However, Similtar Suume would lay down his life during the counterattack at Onderon, leaving Simka orphaned and his mother - still on Mirial - widowed. Eventually, Simka would take his Hopeful Trails, passing them to the satisfication of the Felucia Jedi Temple elders in the hopes of being apprenticed to a great Master and properly learning the ways of the Force. Ship Registration Name: Akcinor Five Class: Stealth Starfighter Model: TIE/vn space superiority fighter (TIE silencer) Manufacturer: Sienar-Jaemus Fleet Systems Length: 17.43 meters (57.190 ft) Armaments: Medium SJFS L-s9.6 laser cannons (4) SJFS L-7.5 heavy laser cannons (2) Missile launchers (2) Arakyd ST7 concussion missiles Mag-pulse warheads Proton torpedoes Armor: Armored cockpit canopy Anti-Personnel Defenses: Deflector shield generator and projector Modifications: Akcinor Five is a standard-issue TIE/vn space superiority fighter (TIE silencer) dating from the third decade ABY, with parts retrofitted for the second century ABY Other systems: Advanced stealth field generator Appearance:
×
×
  • Create New...