Gala - Jedi Praxeum Ruins

[Ary the Grey]

Ares' shuttle popped out of hyperspace at high orbit, beginning to scan the planet below, starting with the old location of tho temple on Gala, information he had gleaned from his time spent raiding the computer databases from the abandoned temple on Ilum. Fortunately, the Jedi had not abandoned this Temple as well, as Ares felt a strong presence of lightside energy below, indicative of a Jedi infestation. Bringing his cargo shuttle at a shallow approach vector, he shrank his own presence, hiding his identity at range from prying minds. He didn't want to show his hand of cards until he had to.

 

As he closed in, he disabled half of the repulsor systems, keying the emergency signal on his transponder, and struggled to keep the ship airborne long enough to make a landing at the Temple. This was about to get interesting.

 

 

((A quick edited footnote, don't feel rushed to reply, as I'll be pressed to reply until about Tuesday. Not saying I wont, but I'd rather not get into any duels or modded combat until then.))

[TheEngineer]

Master Raikanda appeared to have gone into autopilot as he took the shuttle into the vast structure before them. Meanwhile, Moriarty fought the temptation to shift uncomfortably in her seat. It was an uncomfortable silence, and Sophia could only wonder what was going on in the mind of the Jedi Master to her side. It couldn't be too often that a recruit to the Jedi Order stated that they were trying to remember how to use the Force””from what Sophia remembered it came as naturally as breathing. Had she said too much?

 

”œMaster Raikanda, someone's broadcasting on the emergency frequency.”

[Gabriel Frost]

SNIKT

”¦

”¦

”¦

SNIKT

”¦

”¦

”¦

SNIKT

 

The pilot of the Fallen Swan rubbed his temples in annoyance. He recognized the sound as soon as it had started several minutes ago. Six years as military troop transport pilot and he knew by instinct the sound of a knife being sharpened. But just because he knew the sound, didn't make the constant repetitiveness less annoying. He was starting to regret more and more taking on a single fare.

 

”œGo tell that jarhead to cut it out. We are almost to Gala.”

[Dahar Raikanda]

As the unidentified ship entered the airspace above the temple the Jedi Master's comm went off. "Master Raikanda, we have an unidentified ship coming in at dangerous speeds, apparent damage to repulsory systems. Has not responded to any hailing frequencies."

 

Dahar took a deep breath upon hearing the news. He inhaled the Force into his very being. It guided him in his actions and judgements.

 

"Open the hangar and send an emergency crew, as well as medics." Dahar paused for a moment. "Send some sentinels as well." With this command he knew it would be a matter of minutes before a team of Jedi Knights would arrive to stand guard of the situation.

 

The shuttle arrived in the hangar moments after the crashed ship. Upon landing it was Sophia who exited first. Without hesitation she went up to the downed aircraft and offered her assistance.

 

The world in front of Dahar's eyes played out in slow motion. Dozens of feelings and thoughts flooded the Jedi Master. Most alarming was a feeling of cold and despair. It was not overwhelming but was felt only in the back of his mind. To the battle hardened warrior this presence was all too familiar. The one in the ship was either unaware of their connections to the Dark Side, or doing their best to hide them. But to a Jedi Master this could not be completely concealed. He knew the sentinels were on the way but could sense the situation would soon be dire.

 

He called out to the young woman, chasing after her.

[Ary the Grey]

The plan had worked beautifully. Ares was in, and the tender belly of the Jedi lay exposed before his fangs. The side ramp hissed open and Ares strode out in his full battle armor, his mask donned but off as the Force swirled around him, dark tendrils of the abyss lashing out violently within the invisible energy field, the dark man the focus point of the brewing storm. A lone woman was near his vessel, and he could sense another, a far more powerful Jedi, closing quickly on his position. His voice echoed in her ears, ethereal and seemingly from everywhere at once, yet clearly mechanical, like a vox synthesizer.

 

"Do I need a hand? Are you offering to give me yours? I could always add to my hand collection...and you have two very beautiful specimens..."

 

His hand shot out as the Force drew to him violently, blasting a telekinetic wave in her direction of mild intensity, enough to at least knock her off her feet. She wasn't a target of value anyways, and Ares wanted to play with his prey. Grinning, a lightsaber hilt found itself in his right hand, and was ignited shortly thereafter, still held in a downwards inert position.

 

Things were about to get very...fun...

[TheEngineer]

Sophia turned back just in time to see Master Raikanda's face turn ashen as the boarding ramp of the derelict opened with a hiss of hydraulics. The apology that had been on her lips when he called for her instantly died. Realization dawned almost right away; after all, what else would give a Jedi Master cause for concern aside from the presence of a Sith?

 

Her eyes widened and a silent curse formed itself on her lips. She knew of the Sith, certainly””who hadn't, considering the fact that the galaxy had been shaking itself to pieces over the last decade as the Jedi and Sith tried to settle their rivalry? But it was an abstract fear, like the idea of an armed burglar or a freak airspeeder accident””they happened to other people, until the next victim was someone that you knew. She had lived in fear of the Sith, dreading that they might someday come for her because of her ancestry and her potential, but as for actually encountering one”¦

 

”œDo I need a hand? Are you offering to give me yours? I could always add to my hand collection...and you have two very beautiful specimens..."

 

What was she supposed to do here? Sophia was about to reach for the holdout blaster that she had kept on her belt, but she found herself bowled over by an invisible hand back towards Raikanda. Her arm flailed out by instinct and struck the reinforced deck, shielding her head from the impact, a fall that stung a lot but left her unharmed. She found herself looking up at the undercarriage of the wreck, staring up at some exposed piping””coolant lines? Fuel? She couldn't tell””whoever had built that infernal thing hadn't even bothered to properly label the ship's plumbing.

 

In any case, when these things were shot, bad things happened. Spacecraft coolant was highly toxic and evaporated almost instantly””a coolant leak would force an evacuation of the entire hangar until it could be purged.

 

And, reaching for her holdout blaster, she found that it had fallen away, bouncing across the deck some twenty feet away towards the boarding ramp.

 

Sithspit. Sithspit. Sithspit. Her only weapon worth mentioning was now out of her reach and her vibroblade might as well have been a butter knife compared to a Sith's lightsaber””her skills with the blade were just about as comparable. Sophia was not going to die here””she'd come too far and fought too hard to meet the Jedi to get flat-out murdered by a criminal psychopath in the very heart of a Jedi Temple.

 

Running like a filthy coward sounded like a pretty decent idea at this point. A very good idea, in fact. Who knew, maybe she would even find something that she could defend herself with.

 

And so she scrambled to her feet, took a few hesitant steps back to make bloody well sure that the maniac's attention was not going to be focused on her”¦ and then ran like hell, away from the fight and towards the edge of the hangar. Some heavy equipment over in the distance caught her attention--anything would be better than her pitiful little dagger.

[Dahar Raikanda]

Dahar watched as the man exited his ship and confronted the young Jedi-to-be. His intentions were clear and mallicious. The Jedi Master blamed himself partially for allowing the craft to land. Perhaps if he had been more focused, more in tune with the Force, he would have put more thought in allowing an unknown craft to land in their haven. He knew this intruder had to be quite strong in the Force to have masked his dark side presence from him, something he had come to recognize quite well.

 

Dahar was still in motion as Sophia was knocked backwards which put himself inbetween her and the unknown enemy. Without warning Dahar found an unwelcome emotion pulse through him, anger. The Jedi Master had spent much training in keeping such things in check, preventing a slip to the dark side, a slip that could lead him back to the ways of his old life. And now, with the awesome power that only a true master of the Force posseses, a return to a life of indulgence and murder could be dire for many.

 

No, that would not happen. The Jedi's quick dash towards his adversary stopped at about ten yards between the two. He took in a breath and beckonded in the Force. It came to him in euphoric waves, calming him and helping him focus. The anger faded and soon turned to determination. The Force pulsed through the Master as he reached for the weapon on his belt. He held his lightsaber in front with both hands and ignited it in a flash of violet brilliance.

 

"I am Dahar Raikanda, Master of the Jedi Order and head of this academy." The look on his face was stern with no fear. "You will go no further."

 

Moments after he spoke a pair Jedi Knights rushed into the hangar and, quickly realizing what was going on, rushed to Sophia's aid.

[Ary the Grey]

"Massster...Dahar Raikanda..."

 

Ares grip tightened and loosened on his lightsaber hilt repeatedly as he anxiously awaited the beginnings of his jubilant mayhem. But not yet...the Jedi Master would never strike first. Some might...with provocation...Ares still had memories of his past, but those Masters all wound up leaving the Order for discovering the truth of the Force. But this man...a true Master, deluded by blind faith all this time...it was a rarity he would cherish for a few moments before extinguishing his flame.

 

"You, at the least, deserve to know your murderer's name...I was created by the Sith."

 

Ares removed his mask, revealing perfectly smooth, cold, pale-white skin and the all too familiar face beneath. Perhaps not terribly familiar to Dahar, but he'd at least be able to place it later if necessary.

 

"I have been christened Darth Ares...but you may remember my body better as Darkfire..."

 

Ares pulled the second hilt from his belt, locking it to the bottom of the first, though not activating it. If needed, it would allow him greater leverage and power in his strikes, as well as modify his style rapidly, indeed, wildly, should he so choose.

 

"And now, my dear, dear Jedi Master...meet me in glorious battle!"

 

Ares lashed out with the Force to the bits of rubble near Dahar's feet, spraying up dust and bits into his face as the Sith closed the gap frighteningly fast, lashing out with a quick horizontal slash. It wasn't meant to be a terribly complex or brutally strong move, merely a cunning way to open the fight. But if this Jedi wasn't on his ball or was versed in combat, it would be an easy kill and a way to remove someone who wasn't worth his time.

[Dahar Raikanda]

Darkfire, Aryian Darkfire. Dahar had never crossed this man's path but could recall reading about him in the archives. During his time as a padawan he had studied many of the legendary Jedi of the past and present. This Darkfire was known for his top notch skills in battle, something a younger Dahar had found impressive. He himself had been a duel champion long before becoming a Jedi. Now, as a Jedi Master, his skills were at their peak. He was a master of the aggressive Form IV and held a constant connection to the Force. The Jedi was able to call on it in a whim, which was convenient considering the fast paced action of a lightsaber battle.

 

Dahar had not awoke that morning looking for a fight, but one had found him. He had no choice but to accept the Sith's challenge. He planned to vanquish this Darth Ares, but knew that there was a possibility, however small, that Aryian Darkfire lay buried underneath...

 

The Sith Lord started with a cunning attack, the same one Master K'munee had used in his very first spar as an apprentice. He remembered back to his training, how difficult it had been to see through the mist of dust and dirt. But now the Jedi knew what to do. With his eyes closed he could still see certain things through the Force, in particular those things that were alive. The picture wasn't as clear as it would have been with his eyes but he could sense the Sith charging at his midsection.

 

The Jedi Master, in perfect harmony with the Force, decided to defend himself with a Force Whirlwind. A strong gust of wind swirled around him, hurling the dust and debris everywhere. The two lightsabers collided at shoulder height with a violent hiss. Using his natural strength, and a very small amount of Force Push, he extended his leg to kick his opponent backwards.

[Ary the Grey]

Ares caught the kick well, flowing with it even, as he shoved off backwards, parting with his opponent and regaining his footing quickly and expertly. The Sith had all of the former Aryian's skills in combat, and it showed. But unlike a Jedi, it was the Dark Side that fueled him, drove him, empowering him to assault this place with all the unholy blessings it conferred. Ares drew upon it, magnifying the Jedi's winds, using his own tricks against him as the gusts picked up in the open hangar, drawing dust and dirt into the air to obscure the vision of anyone and everyone in the area. His own presence shrank in the Force shortly thereafter, but only for a moment, as it spiked again further away, the torrential pyre of dark side energy surging towards Dahar with terrifying speed.

 

Now with mask donned, the dark figure once again rushed back into the fray, two red lightsaber blades heralding his presence, one held, the other flung at his opponent in a guided attack that would cleave him horizontally in two if not dealt with. The shadow in the dust, holding his red lightsaber at the ready, charged in at the wake of the thrown weapon, aiming to attack whichever side Dahar left undefended.

 

And through all of this, Ares was carefully observing his opponent, still undecided on whether or not the man was even a worthy combatant. Still, the important thing was he was having fun. Blood would be spilled by the end of the day, and Ares would laugh as it sprayed across his face.

[Dahar Raikanda]

The mess of dirt had become thick enough between the two of them controlling it to blind those who could not see through the Force. The dueling warriors however were able to maintain their focus through the mist. With his eyes closed Dahar could see Ares coming at him, but could not see the thrown lightsaber. He could however feel the Force guiding something towards him, something that was surely an attack.

 

In lieu of responding with an attack, he called the Force in with all of his being. What he was going to do would require all of his effort. In this case his defense would also serve as an offense should the Sith actually attempt to strike him. Digging down deep he summoned up a Force Bubble just big enough to envelope himself. In an instant a bright blue transparent light shrouded the Jedi. This deflected the flying lightsaber and momentarily protected the Jedi. He was immobile inside the bubble but for a moment would not need to swing his blade. It was up to the Sith whether or not he would touch the pure Light Side of the Force.

[Ary the Grey]

Blade met barrier, and the barrier held. After a few seconds the dark figure relented, the masked visage of the Sith Master merely staring, calling the discarded blade back to his empty hand. The Jedi had fully shielded himself, and Ares knew there was no getting through. But, of course, to maintain a shield of that magnitude would obviously take an incredible deal of concentration, not at all like the Force barriers he had mastered in his previous life, which were mere physical barriers.

 

The hooded figure raised his hand, and the Force swirled in all its evil majesty, mighty hands reaching out and gripping, tearing at the ceiling of the hangar above, everything he could. Metal poles, railings, wires, all falling directly on top of the Jedi, beginning to bury him in the very Temple he guarded. In little time at all, even if Dahar lowered his shield, it wouldn't make much of a difference, he'd be pinned in place and primed for a direct assault. And if he chose instead to maintain the shield...soon he'd become exhausted from exerting himself that much. The Jedi had bluffed, and Ares had called it.

[TheEngineer]

”œDarkfire!”

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

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.

[Dahar Raikanda]

The Jedi Master's connection with the Force was at a peak as he held the barrier. It took most of his strength to maintain it, even though it had only taken moments to pull it up, have the blows defected, and return to a state of holding it. He couldn't move but his senses were heightened. The faintest whispers turned in the loud sounds of metal being ripped. Wires, structure, the hangar above was being torn from place.

 

Thinking quickly and still full of the Force he dropped his shield and summoned the attack that had once bested Master Kirlocca and earned him the rank of Jedi Master. It was a combination of Force Jump, Force Speed, and Telekinesis, working together in a smooth motion. His body was already a masterpiece and he began with his natural abilities. The Jump and Speed helped him bend his knees and push off with great momentum. He then used the Force to hurl his own body towards the Sith Master, lightsaber held out in front. ((Picture the kind of spear move that Raiden does in Mortal Kobmat, I don't see why a Jedi wouldn't be able to pull it off and quickly.))

 

In the back of his mind he could feel another presence, one strong in the Light Side of the Force, rushing to the scene.

[Ary the Grey]

Dahar's lightsaber buried itself neatly through Ares's chest, as the dark figure managed to brace itself against the kinetic energy of the charge, but was too slow in drawing his attention away from pulling down the hangar to safely deflect the assault. The twin red lightsabers both extinguished as the defeated met his fate. But the fight was not over...not by a long shot. The body that had been the target of Dahar's attack seemed to flicker as damaged subsystems failed, the incredibly realistic holoprojected visage that was Darth Ares ceased to be, leaving in its place the Sith Master's prized dueling droid, Dolos. Thankfully, the critical areas of the droid were protected by cortosis alloys, and it was equipped with a self-repair function. Standard procedure for such a mortal blow was a shutdown followed by a repair cycle, and before that kicked in, the droid managed to hiss out one word, still masked with the sound of Ares's vocalizer.

 

"...Mass...ter..."

 

It was about time that had happened. Ares was wanting to test the droid's capabilities, but was getting fed up of hiding in the shadows and playing ventriloquist with his Force presence while his servant had all the fun. An incredible blast of telekinetic energy erupted towards Dahar from his ten o' clock, with the hopeful intent of knocking him back with the lightsaber still embedded in the droid, though the Sith would never have counted on such a gamble. Instead, the Sith Master, the true Darth Ares, surged forwards from his hiding place with Force-fueled speed, lashing out with a flurry of lightsaber strikes drawn directly from his experience with Vapaad, attempting to catch the Jedi even more off guard than he probably already was at the realization that his foe was very much alive, and still fighting with the fury of seven suns.

 

 

((Just for future record, I know it says on his character sheet that he has a blaster rifle and two pistols, but I haven't brought them to this fight, and don't intend to 'magically plot-hole' them into existence, though a set is on the crashed ship.))

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

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.

[Dahar Raikanda]

As Dahar's blade drove through the Sith he now assumed defeated he could tell something was amiss. Instead of smoothly piercing the dark one's organs he felt a crunch. Within seconds the illusion vanished leaving a mere droid where the Darth Ares had stood. Dahar was surprised and quite impressed. He had felt the truth of the Dark Side emanating from this... thing, and still felt it, knowing that a wielder was still nearby. What shocked him was that he had been fooled by the deception. Truly the Sith Master behind was fortified in the Force.

 

Before having time to react he felt a blow hit him like a freight train. The blast knocked him backwards, ripping his saber still clasped tightly in his hand out of the defeated droid. Almost instantaneously the true Sith made himself known and came at him with pure hatred. Dahar was skilled with a blade, besting many, but was now moving at his quickest to parry the lightning quick swings of the Sith Master.

 

All the while, through the shock and following defense, his connection to the Force never faltered. It had taken a lifetime to reach this peak, to have it constantly flowing through him and at his command. Thinking quickly he copied the Sith's previous attack, reaching upwards with the Force and destroying more of the hangar. The crunch of metal and structure filled the air, bringing pieces crashing down.

 

Mustering all his physical strength he pushed his blade forward to gain momentum for a backwards jump. The Jedi Master took to the air in a vertical 360, attempting to put some distance between Ares and himself, and avoiding the chaos falling from the ceiling.

[Ary the Grey]

Ares' motions were fluidly staccato, seeming to stroke at random instead of making the logical progressions of most other combat forms made, driving their opponents to a particular position or obtaining a goal to gain advantage, where Vaapad held nothing of the sort. Its moves were unpredictable, seeming to strike with random stabs and slashes from angles that were unconnected from the last, confusing the opponent's natural defensive combat senses, an incredibly hard style to defend against, and it was clearly showing as Ares drove his opponent back furiously.

 

However, throughout his combat experience, he wasn't nearly so naive to focus his whole attention on his one opponent rather than the entire combat area, and immediately felt the threat from above. Instantly he reached out with the Force, summoning a barrier of sufficient strength to act as a kind of umbrella, deflecting the debris to the sides. Laughing as he gazed at the retreating Jedi, he yelled out through his vocalizer.

 

"Do you think me a child? Come, Master Jedi, show me your prowess as a swordsman, come and die like a man!"

 

It was quite obvious Ares was enjoying this a great deal, it had been some time since anyone had put up a fight, and he was absolutely loving every second of the violence and destruction. He slowly walked forward, using barriers to clear the path before him, sweeping aside the rubble with mighty telepathic hands as he pursued his quarry. Soon, he felt, another would join the fray, and then things would get...interesting.

 

 

((Edit: as was asked, he is wearing the mask again, partially so he can speak, partially to protect his eyes against the dust storm the two whipped up. However, the Force masking effect is off, was previously off, and will remain off for the remainder of combat.))

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

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.

[Ary the Grey]

((Dahar PMed me, guess he won't be posting for a while))

 

Ares snarled as a new foe entered the fray quite suddenly. It wasn't entirely unexpected, but at the same time he hadn't completely finished off his other opponent. No matter, the blast knocking him to his left was simple enough to recover from, and this new combatant wasn't quick enough with his initial assault to completely take him off guard to the point where a defense was impossible.

 

Like a deadly wraith, Ares moved in, eager to cleave this newcomer in half.

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

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”¦

[Ary the Grey]

The new foe's gambit was a clever one, but Ares felt it at the last second. Normally, he would have let the second blade crash upon his armor as he followed through, but the strike would have likely caught him in the chinks between his groinplate and his leg plates, and if he were to continue this onslaught with others, it would not be an injury he could easily deal with. Split second judgement kicked in, available to him only through years of combat and battles.

 

He blocked the overhead swing, but instead of following through, he rolled to the left, the light blue lightsaber sending sparks flying as it splayed up the left side of the back of his chestplate, the maneuver putting a few feet between them. It did not give him an opening, and the Jedi had ample time to react, putting them on even ground. But Ares was eager to test this opponent, it felt as if this one had some prowess with the blade. The Sith closed in and twin crimson spires met with cyan torches, igniting the ares as Ares began to press the assault, moving faster and faster as he delved into the Force and his near mastery over Vapaad. Of course, he was a true master of Soresu, but Vapaad felt much more to his liking in this incarnation, very chaotic and almost random in its patterns and strikes, like a turbulent storm...the very essence of what the great Jedi Master Darkfire had become.

 

Lights began to flicker and fade in the hangar as the two gods clashed in war, the ceiling ripped to shreds though supernatural forces. None present really paid it any mind...not yet, anyways...

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

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?

[Gabriel Frost]

As they slowly made their way through the halls of the Jedi Temple, Gabriel knew that something big was happening alongside his arrival. The two Jedi Sentinels were exchanging knowing glances as they led the party, while the blank stares and almost robotic movements of the Temple guards to either side of Frost clued him in that they were paying more attention to the com beads in their ears than the Iridonian. A slight tingle surged down his spine just moments before an alarm klaxon blared to life, bathing the hall in a bright red and filling it with sound. Relying on pure instinct, guided by years of conditioning and training, Gabriels hands shot to the weapons he carried. His right wrapped around the grip of his pistol; the left loosely gripping the hilt of his knife, all while giving a slight bend to his knees should the need to move arise.

 

With their attention focused on the chatter of their com bead, the Guards were only slightly slower than the Jedi Sentinels in responding to the Zabraks movements. While the Jedi merely turned their heads to focus upon him, the Guards quickly brought their rifles to bear. Had he the desire or intent, that moment's hesitation would have been all he required to eliminate both Guards, and possibly one of the Jedi. Not knowing the skills of the Jedi in front of him, he was unsure as to how he would have fared. Thankfully he had neither desire nor intent to harm any of the four. Slowly releasing his weapons by fully flexing his fingers to show his peaceful intent, the Jedi instructed the Guards to lower their weapons.

 

”œHe means us no harm. Escort him to Interview Room 12B. Please wait there, another Jedi will arrive to assist you.”

[Ary the Grey]

Ares met the first low strike with his left blade, deflecting it with a rough strike. That was the disadvantage of using dual blades against a staff saber, the staff saber's strikes would always be stronger and harder to block, but the dual bladed style was still far superior with speed. Granted, against a master of this caliber who was practiced in the ways of combat that extra speed wasn't much, but still allowed Ares to press the attack. However, he did not expect this new gambit, and though he caught the rebound strike, both blades grazed across his neck, superheating the chain mail and flash burning him severely.

 

Hissing, the Sith immediately retreated, dropping comfortably into a low Soresu stance in case the Jedi decided to follow up his successful hit, the first true blood of the fight. The chain mail was burned into his skin, not a fatal wound, but one that would give the Jedi a severe advantage if the fight drew out much longer, causing Ares's concentration to diminish more and more as time wore on. He needed to finish this, and finish it now. And then...then he recognized his opponent more clearly, something triggering his memories.

 

"You...He trained you!"

 

Rage filled him, exuded from him, through him, he was the living embodiment of fury and anger. The Sith Master dove every ounce of his being into the Force, the Dark Side presence growing immensely as he drew heavily upon it, his powers reaching out like enormous telekinetic hands, gripping around the Jedi as he gripped his sabers tight, preparing to lunge in and quickly kill his momentarily immobilized opponent.

 

And that was when he was stopped, quite suddenly, from a deafening sound from the rafters. The warring had been too great, and the ceiling had finally given way, large chunks began to rain down upon both combatant's present locations. If it was possible, it made Ares even more furious that he would have to retreat to save his own life, sparing that of the Jedi. Immediately the grip was released as Ares threw himself backwards, dodging a large ball of duracrete and metal as other debris began pounding down, littering the hangar with collapsed supports and massive walls of rubble. It would take clean up crews several days to dig through, and if there were any Masters at the Temple left with enough Force reserves left, they might have had a chance in helping to clear large areas in minutes, but Ares would be long gone by then.

 

It was time for a tactical retreat. Ares had his fun. Moving quickly, he gathered what few belongings he had in his shuttle, and with a small application of the Force collected his droid, moving everything into one of the nearby Jedi shuttles. His last act was a simple one, he used his lightsaber to destroy his cargo freighter's transponder and main computer as well as several other smaller components, eradicating any evidence of where he came from. He would be just another rogue Sith should an official inquiry be brought up.

 

Seconds later, the preflight of the Jedi shuttle was ready, and Ares was at its helm, blasting off from the one opening in the hangar left. They might choose to pursue from a different hangar, but he was an apt pilot, and it would take them time to reconfigure their targeting sensors to ignore the Jedi shuttle's IFF transponder signature. As he made his departure, he hugged low to the treetops, using every little evasive trick he knew to keep him out of line of sight as well as a difficult target to hit.

 

As soon as he was out of range of the base's defenses, he pulled into a sharp climb, engaging the hyperdrive as soon as he was clear of the gravity well, heading towards the top of the galactic plane. It was time to run silent for a while.

 

((Thanks for the fun guys. Plotline completion to follow.))

[Nishant]

Nishant opened his eyes.

 

When he sat up in his small bed and looked around his small room, he saw things clearly. He wondered how long he had been asleep. He wondered about why he felt he had not been awake for weeks, months, when he had surely only gone to bed several hours before. Whatever this feeling was, it spoke clearly. He did not feel as he had felt the last time he was awake.

 

He slipped his bare legs out from under the blanket, set his bare feet on the cold floor and frowned. He did not like the feel of this floor. He stood up, looked in the mirror at his naked figure, and decided that today he needed to act.

 

So he dressed in simple clothing, pulling gray civilian pants onto his legs and whatever shirt he found in his wardrobe first, and stepped barefoot into the Praxeum hallway outside his room. The first thing he did was visit the armory. Though he was not currently in training, Nishant had been retrieved by Kitt as a member of the Order, and so it was not outside his boundaries to make use of the facility's equipment. All he wanted was a knife, which he found in the form of a six-inch bladed specimen with a drop point and a beautifully blued blade. He sheathed it at the back of his waist and left the armory.

 

He didn't know quite what to do at present, and so he sat down in the middle of the hallway.

[Kyrie Eleison]

Force corruption is subtle, like the wiles of the Sith themselves. It starts as but a whisper... It has been said that the dark is like a poison... A stain upon the very soul. It soils every emotion with its silent corruption, and its whispers of doubt. The dark is generous, and it is patient.... It is the dark that seeds cruelty into justice, that drips contempt into compassion, which poisons love with grains of doubt, through which embitters the heart, deafening love's lightening call. The dark can be patient, because the slightest drop of rain will cause those seeds of poison to sprout. The rain will come, as they will to all, and the seeds will... Sprout... Simply because it is in the very nature of the soil in which every emotion grows.

 

Just as the dark resides within the soil, it is in the clouds above, and it waits behind the star that gives them light. The dark's patience is infinite... Eventually, even stars burn out... It is our job to remove the corruption, even in the very ones we love and trust. In that bond, lies the key to unlocking the light... For the darkness finds its strength in loneliness, within the heart. In the heart lies its own undoing, for one candle cannot hold back the dark for long. Love is more than a candle... It can truly ignite the stars.

 

Kyrie's emerald eyes glimmered with the reflected azure flames of hyperspace, a smile lighting her pale, freckled face, as she watched her master. The woman looked slightly ill, which might have been a reaction to the flowwalking, for the song changed each it touched in turn. Il-Andon's words whirled about in her mind, as her master plucked the warm handle of her lightsaber from her black-bound palm. The illness in her master's eyes increased with each passing second, until she returned the blade. Kyrie frowned slightly at Xae's reaction as the Jedi spoke.

 

”œIt's well crafted. As easily as you're able to listen to and feel the Force I know that you'll be a strong Knight one day. How did you come by the crystal?”

[Dashel Illioni]

Dashel diverted back to Gala after having received a message from the knight that had been sent to mentor the young man he had found staring at the temple on Tython. It seemed the young knight had been needed elsewhere, and the council had reassigned Fejj to Dashel.

 

Once his ship was secured, Dashel headed to the Praxeum to find a quiet room to meditate, there he waited until the arrival of his apprentice.

[Fejj Kesada]

The shuttle transporting Fejj, some supplies, and a few other Jedi, exited hyperspace above the planet. It wasn't long before they were in the atmosphere and then approaching the praxeum. The structure had a much different feel than the temple on Tython, but this was where he had been instructed to go. He was to seek out the cat-like man he had first met, whom he now knew was the Jedi Master Dashel Illioni. He was excited to be assigned to study under a true master of the Force and hoped to learn his ways.

 

The praxeum looked more like a military base than a Jedi haven. After they touched down in the hangar Fejj followed the rest of the group through the clearance points. After a few of these the cold steel walls faded to a more comforting interior. It seemed like a base had been built around a temple. He checked in with the receptionist at the main desk and was assigned a room in the apprentice's quarters and was given a datapad.

 

Using the datapad he found his way to his new room. On the bed he found a set of Jedi robes. He changed into them and they felt quite well.

 

The datapad also had instructions on where to find his new master. It led him through a series of corridors and eventually to a room in a quiet off to the side section of the praxeum. He stood in front of the door. It opened to reveal Dashel sitting in meditation. Fejj entered the room and waited for the man to sense his presence.