Lt. Seraphim

Seraphim watched the Jedi pilot the vessel, making only a slight quip, "You know they say alcohol consumption while piloting is one of the lead causes of death... its the truth. I always assumed Jedi were above the common vices, seems I've much to learn and re-hash from the lower-class romanticism you guys are attributed." He brought his hands behind his back, the self-satisfied smirk, "But I do thank you for the ride, Master Draygo."

Seraphim nodded before he moved towards the yacht, it was truly unique in the hangar bay... and there he stood, awaiting the Instructor, a seriousness about his face. He was made to come to Haruun Kal with the others for the threats on the Temple... and now it seemed the Jedi had been victorious, but was Haruun Kal in danger? Suspicion troubled the boy's mind for only a moment, before he thought of the code and tried to sway away the sinister elements of fear and doubt, fuel for the Dark Side's lesser Tempters... as he reaffirmed his faith in the Galaxy's Defenders.

Following Master Draygo, Seraphim spoke, "I came here with Master Darex, I have no transport... any ride you could offer would be much appreciative." Seraphim's eyes crinkled into a smile...

The young boy, smirked at the thought, "So, Master Draygo, what you are saying is... in time, we will develop our own views of the Code. I like that, it allows for a sense of individual persuasions." Seraphim made a comical face, his youth bubbled in his actions at random moments, equally over-powered by his otherwise serious emotions. It was a duality of personality which would prove to be a slight bother to whoever chose to become his Master, but it'd be a fun lifestyle, nonetheless.

There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serentity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force. He repeated the lines in the rear of his mind, concentrating on each one, it was then that he heard another hopeful ask a question. Curious as to what "Chaos" could be defined as, he listened intently to Master Draygo.

OOC: Edited content... I need to read things more thoroughly. IC: Seraphim strode the halls, taking a seat in the classroom, his mind still a little dazed. Yawning to fight away the sleep, he was a bit dull since his last encounter and the racing emotions just short of the battle at the Academy... his mind wasn't all there yet. "Sleep... a blessing and a curse."

Seraphim appeared as his name was mentioned, by the will of the Force, or the more practical approach of dumb luck, either way, he bowed before Master Draygo and Darex, a smile plastered over his face. "I apologize for my tardiness, I haven't felt the comforts of a real mattress in ages... it seems, I mistakenly over-indulged."

Seraphim awoke after what had been almost a day of having slept... he wasn't sure what he'd done to cause such a lapse in consciousness, but it was no doubt such a heavy tax on his body... the sleeplessness or just the beauty of an actual bed. He wandered Haruun Kal, slightly at a loss, searching for his bearings... or a class of Hopefuls.

OOC: Sorry for taking so long to respond. IC: Seraphim nodded, "Yes, I think if we stick together, we will accomplish our task best. It'd be a pleasure." The young boy, wiped what remained of his tears from his eyes, discarding his thoughts on the attack and taking ot heart what the young, yet wise, Jedi Knight, Darex, said in relation to the matter at hand. He moved with his new friends...

Seraphim felt the warm hand of the Jedi upon him before staring back at the Holonet Reports, the wheezing reporter coughed out the next statement in jarbled script, The Imperial Forces have been routed by an unseen Force. What remained of the few Imperials quickly removed themselves through acts of bitter desperation and fury. The Imperials Forces have been wiped from Coruscant. Orbital bombardment seems to be the cause, but the weapons never touched the Rebel Alliance soldiers. Whatever... entity serves the Alliance... that entity has saved us here today... Seraphim was about to turn when the Reporter came back again, It seems a lone Imperial Transport made it to the Jedi Academy, nothing can be confirmed but the battles being waged have been one of the most violent clashes in Coruscant's recent history. Seraphim pointed... "What's going on, Darex?" he wiped his eyes free of tears, for despite his upbringing in the hollowed Bowels of Coruscant, Seraphim was still unaccustomed to the gratuitous violence... his skills as a combatant broke down upon needless death and conflicting news stories. He had heard the others exchange philosophies... but then he spoke, confused... lost within the conversation. He had grown up with nothing more than the dirt and grime of the Bowels, expecting him to follow conversations about galactic history and politics was almost impossible.

OOC: Sorry for taking so long. -Marc IC: Seraphim was surprised by the alarms and almost as if time without alerting him, he found himself sleeping awake onboard a Transport ship without knowing his destination or the reasoning behind the assault. Only the calm whisper of a Holonet feed and a feel of sadness over those watching alerted him to the disaster that was wreaking havoc upon his homeworld of Coruscant. "How could this be happening?" He asked, quietly, choking with the thought of watching all he knew turn to rubble, reports showed Imperial and Alliance blood feuds raging and a screenshot captured a Jedi Knight fighting off a freakish Trandoshan-Human hybrid being with a force-pike, as well as the same freakish "Super-Troopers" taking down a battalion of Alliance troopers. Explosions raged over the entire scene and then Imperial Walkers and Imperial Shock Troopers engaging Alliance Lancer suits, finally a scene changed to that of Alliance troopers shooting on sight Coruscant citizens infected with the Plague. Tears welled in his deepset eyes and erupted, the young boy's mind was confused as the images he was taking in conflicted, showing both the Alliance and the Empire as ruthless murderers... it was then that he shrieked, "THEY'RE KILLING THEM! THEY'RE JUST AS EVIL AS THE EMPIRE!"

CHARACTER SHEET Real Name: Leonard Montague Nickname: Seraphim Age: 17 Species: Human-Zabrak Height: 5'11"' Weight: 175lbs Hair: Wavy Brown, shoulder-length Eyes: Pale Blue Sex: Male Homeworld: Naboo Alignment: Good Clothing: Loose-fitting Battered Jedi Robes Weapon: Vibro-blade Force: Force User Inventory: Bare Essentials; Three Sets of Rations, Comm-link, Weapon (stated above) Posessions: R7 Droid, Blue and White A-wing

Deek, the young green-skin listened to Flash's commands and made a mental note, or a serious of mental notes. Echo Base, fly under Warren Worthington. CHECK Find a ship and get going. CHECK He made his way to one of the Rebel's Y-wings. Boarded it and prepped it. As the engines roared to life, he could feel the differences between what he'd been used to as a kid and what he was suddenly in now. It responded to his commands grudgingly, it lacked agility but it made up for it all in its defense. "Good." The vessel lifted out of the outpost following behind the Rebel Alliance. "I might just make a name for myself, sometime..."

OOC: you're telling me... IC: The Rodian looked at the Commander, rather oddly, squinted, as he thought on the man's words very carefully. Before responding in a haphazard way, "Seraphim fly, no ground." Then, upon noticing his failure at comprehensible speech, the green-skin was quick to clarify: "No, I feel, the Rebels would find my skills of more use solely in the air." The small-statured man was not exactly the most skillful ground fighter, actually, perhaps one of the least skillful ground fighter. He had been drafted, so to speak, to fly. "I'll stick with the air."

The young Rodian followed the Commander's eyes as they overlooked him and nodded upon his completion of the visual inspection. The small-statured Rodian, started again, "Well, I seek to join your Y-wing division, as a Pilot of the Rebel workhorse. Perhaps, some day even lead a squadron of your Y-wings, but that is for time to tell." He hated having his fate in someone else's hands, but that was the difference between being a pilot for small-time vessels and a smuggler and being a member of a more sophisticated military order.