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Ary the Grey

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Silence was the only answer this time around, for a while at least. One by one Jackson's ship, the Transient Plunder, activated its systems and gradually came to life. A somewhat surreal sight perhaps, considering that the old Wayfarer class looked like it belonged in the graveyard just as much as most of the other wreckage and debris. Like a corpse being brought back to life, reanimated.

 

The radar-like sweeping of the former apprentice's senses ceased and pulled back in on itself rather abruptly as his ship's engines roared to life. Pinpricks of light popped into view as the hidden thrusters installed in the Plunder's hull flared. The maneuvering thrusters were quick to begin their guidance, swiftly and deftly pulling their ship free of the debris field and guiding it along to an open patch of space not too far away.

 

"You should tell your pilot to back it up out of there. We can figure something out in open space, but I am not getting on board with... whatever that thing is. I have an umbellical I can toss your way if it comes down to it."

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She chuckled as his response was relayed through her communicator. "Don't worry, Jackson, he won't hurt you. Not unless I ask him to."

 

The ship lurched as it began to follow Jackson's into the blackness of space. The captain was experienced enough to keep up, even through the debris field. She'd picked well, the information she'd gathered at the spaceport paying off. While she waited, she meditated. The cold durasteel and vacuum of space brought her little comfort, but she could take solace in her companion. She'd never named him. He wasn't hers to name- even if he wasn't sapient, he had his own identity.  His own will, and his own drives. Still, he was a part of nature, and she could take solace in his presence whenever she traveled. The ship shuddered as the captain maneuvered it to connect to the other ship.

 

There was a sharp hiss as air poured into the connection before the airlock opened. She stepped forward, briefly considering bringing her lightsaber. No. She shouldn't need it- She wasn't here to take him back by force. She was hear to gather information, and if he was willing, to return him to the Order as a padawan once more. She stepped through the airlock, traversing the umbilical tube with little difficulty. She stepped through the airlock on his ship, her hands clasped behind her back. She flashed him a smile before speaking.

 

"A pleasure to meet you properly, Jackson. Now, I hope you intend to speak with me?"

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"You hope I intend to speak with you, wow, now that's one I haven't heard before. Mmno, no, see, you're the one who bothered wandering all the way out here. If anyone should have any intents on speaking with anyone, it should be you. So what is it? Why have you bothered digging me up, and, if you would be so kind, how exactly did you actually manage it? I've been very careful to keep a real low profile, y'see." Jackson, from the way he greeted Kadi almost right at the end of the pressurized tube and with his own saber in hand, was clearly not so trusting as she. He was always a somewhat paranoid human being, but that particular set of traits had only grown stronger in his time alone out in deep space. Medium freighters and transports often made for appetizing targets, and he'd had to fend off more than his fair share of boarders and slavers before. Even a few with their own smattering of force sensitives.

 

"I mean I have a few guesses of my own obviously, given that you really are who you say you are, but I'd rather hear it from you first."

 

The acrid scent of ionized gases and space clung to the man like an old friend. Even if he hadn't just stepped back aboard from the void, it was entirely likely that he carried it on his shoulders wherever he went. At least, if the state of his jumpsuit and still-equipped exo-gear were any indicator.

Edited by Moose
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Kadi raised an eyebrow at the man's display of his weapon. The outer rim hadn't done him any favors if this was his response to a parley. She hadn't come all this way just to fight him.

 

"There's no need for that, Jackson. If I meant you harm I would have brought a warship, and if I wanted your cargo I would have brought my lightsaber. As for how I tracked you down? That's what I do. I'm a wayfinder, a Jedi Guardian who excels at tracking and finding people who'd rather not be found. There's always a trail, you just have to know where to look. I'm here regarding your time as a Jedi Padawan, on behalf of the Jedi Council. All I want to do is talk, none of this-" She motioned at his lightsaber "Veiled threats business. I'm not Sith, and neither are you."

 

She stepped forward, motioning again, though this time towards a point deeper in the vessel.

 

"I don't suppose you have a place we can sit?"

Edited by Mavanger

 

 

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"That's a slick way of completely dodging the question, kudos to you. I'll remember that. Anyways."

 

The geared-up man turned on a heel and marched deeper into his cargo bay, tossing a wave to the emplacement containing his primary interior-security system. The quad laser didn't wave back or say anything, of course, despite having had mechanical arms and a digital readout grafted onto it at some point. "Don't mind the mess, but do mind your feet. Rather you not end up tripping over something expensive and getting the both of us in trouble." He added as he made his way over to a stable-enough looking nacelle, looking to be ripped right off the side of some luxury yacht.

 

"Alright. So, the Council sent you all the way out here for lil' ol' me huh? Why? Why now, of all times? What has changed in the time that I have been away?" Jackson crossed his legs and reclined against the bulkhead his nacelle was resting against, looking for all intents and purposes like he was just as much part of the chaotic scenery as anything else was. The amalgam of parts and additions slapped onto his old jumpsuit made him look right at home amongst the sheer amount of junk, scrap, and other trash stacked high in the Plunder's cargo container.

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Once the freighter settled itself from the jostling on the waves of hyperspace, Leena unbuckled her safety harness and hopped out of her seat with a smile to the squabbling squibs who were happily blaming one another for the rough take off. Soon enough, the trio of pint-sized squirrels would be climbing around, and through, the ship in effort to fix, improve, or alter for the good of the group their jostling ascent. 
 

Leena made her way to her Chiss traveling companion with a warm smile, “Definitely have had smoother rides; but there is nobody more useful than the Squibs. They’ve helped me out of a lot of pinches and they can get me into places formal Jedi approaches cannot. Don’t suppose you’ve had a chance to give that book a looksie over did ya? I know it can be hard to concentrate when you feel like your teeth might get rattled from your skull. Maybe some formal training of some sort to get you started? I must confess, you are the first person I’ve  taken to  formally train. Oh well, you’d think with a lifetime of being trained I’ve probably picked up a thing or two. At the very least, we can see how you do with the force. I felt you reaching out and touching it back on the planet. Nicely done. I was able to feel you reaching out. It definitely caught my attention.”  Leena rattled on excitedly, her talkative nature becoming clearer by the minute. She was excited to help this newfound hopeful on his way down a meaningful path of goodness and light; but even Leena knew that was easier than it sounded and was wary of the dangers that lurked ahead. Still, as one of the minority of classically trained Jedi, she hoped that her own experiences would impart a meaningful means of helping her fellow force user along his own path. “Do you know the Jedi Code Orpheus? Yes, Mantis told me your name,”  she winked.

 

”It goes, there is no emotion; there is peace. there is no ignorance; there is knowledge. There is no passion; there is serenity. There is no death; there is the force.” Leena paused as she finished reciting the mantra of their order. She could feel the sidelong glance that The Mantis was giving them from the doorway. It echoed on the force itself. Reaching behind herself with a hand, she shoo’d the Jensaarai Defender away. The still-armored being shook his head softly and turned and disappeared into the battered Naboo built ship. “You must understand. While the Jedi and Sith are like two sides to the same coin, we are not the only views of the force. There are others who view the force in their own way. Some with dark intent and desire, seeking only power and to better their own lot in life. Others, like the Jensaarai to which Defender Mantis belongs, who focus on the light with a dedication and zeal unmatched by even many Jedi. They are not wrong, nor are we. Just different. They trod what we see as a more dangerous path. So too do the exorcists and Knights of Empress Revan. Still, they are our brothers and sisters in the force and we respect them as such. We still ascribe to our own ideals though for the good that we believe comes from them.” Leena’s voice had grown uncharacteristically serious compared to her usual happy demeanor, signalling just how serious of a topic they had wandered into. Catching herself, she turned the conversation back to training, her telltale singsong pluckiness returning with a twinkle to her eye. “There are some things that Defender Mantis can teach you better than I, but we must start with the basics before we go delving into swordplay and such. Come on, let’s go to the main room. We’ll have a bit more room there.” 
 

Leena led her companion towards the circular central hub of the ship. Boxes and crates were stacked all along the sides, strapped to the walls. It did not fee like a ship for royalty or even esteemed dignitaries; but they were neither, and the ship served their purpose.

 

Settling to the floor near the middle of the room with her legs crossed beneath her, Leena rested her wrists on her knees, her palms facing upwards. She gestured for Orpheus to take her hand and join her on the floor. “I am going to teach you how to use the force to effect the world outside you. In time, you will be able to use this within your own body as well, when you are quiet and at peace. In fact, with the force, you can move mountains. I will warn you though, this is not to be delved into lightly. The dark side calls to us all and the temptations to use such a power tempt us all. Temptations to take the easy way out, gain power, show off, or control others. As Jedi we are servants of the force and to the galaxy. A Jedi does not use the force for such things and must respect the free spirit of all.”
 

Leena paused as her mind caught up with where her mouth was guiding them. “Maybe, we better do that first. Here, take my hands and close your eyes. Let your spirit find peace. Search within yourself and find that which is true and good. Grasp it, stoke it, and with it’s light seek out the darkness of yourself. Use that light and expel the darkness.” 
 

Leena closed her eyes and opened herself up to the force. She was at peace. Here amongst the stacks and boxes, hurling through hyperspace, her traveling companions about the ship; she was at peace. It flowed from the light that she carried inside, radiating out of her. It sizzled from her fingers to Orpheus. It surged in gentle waves around the room. Metaphysically, it illuminated every darkness and pressed it away, containing it and cleansing the area about them in warm energies of light. When it was gone, Leena opened her eyes and smiled at Orpheus. “Any questions?”

 

((Feel free to post doing, feeling, reading, whatever prior to this post, from us departing. Then just post what Orpheus feels, does etc with a focus on the force and the force dark side purge that we went into at the end.))

Edited by Leena Kil

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As the Jensaarai ship flew through hyperspace, Svata stared out the viewport. The blue light played across his weathered features, making him seem washed out. Faded.

 

Svata turned away, and his eyes met his teacher's.

 

"Sarlaac...I had forgotten. I had forgotten what people were capable of." He shook his head. "Fear, pride, it all ends the same. We seek truth but...what are we supposed to do with it? Teach? They won't listen. Protect? The fight never ends." Leaning against the wall, he took out his saber and looked at the carvings on it.

 

He remembered the rancor on Dathomir.

 

"There's so much potential out there. And it keeps gettin wasted by folks who can't see past the shadows under their beds. What are we supposed to do?" He slumped, tired. "What are we even doing?"

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The seasoned Duros watched his apprentice through pupilless red eyes. He had long since changed from his Jensaarai armor back into the space suit  he preferred to be found in. Sitting at the controls, the hum of the engines distance in the background mingled with the waivering gauges and occasional blips from the console. To a being born, and to many intents, bred from the mysteries of the cosmos, this was as peaceful and serene as one could hope. Even here the force buzzed gently, at peace with the world around them and whisked away by the alternate reality through which they traversed.
 

Yet, all was not at peace. Svata’s words revealed his troubled soul. The darkness of Dathomir had taken her toll. Like many a spacer, The Sarlacc was numb to the demands it could place on one not seasoned to it or prepared for it’s probing tendrilled reaches. Had he assumed too much of the wizened Ryn who now travelled with him? He probably had. The man had lived a full life, yet even now was expanding his understanding of the universe as the shroud was removed from the existence he had known. It had to be hard and the Defender kicked himself for not having seen or thought it sooner.

 

The Defender let his comrades words hang in the air for an uncomfortable period of stillness. A stillness only broken by the automized machinations of the ship about them. He turned his friend’s words over in his mind, chewing on them as if testing them for a hidden bit of gristle or fat that did not belong. And then, after nearly a minute of solitude within his own mind, he spoke. His words carried with them the weight of his thoughts and he spoke each as if it were a complete thought unto itself.

 

“So too were we.”   

 

The Sarlacc fell silent. The world about them returned to the embracing silence of the tomb that was hyperspace. He knew his words were enough. The Duros had spent enough time with Svata to know that the Ryn would take the words to heart and turn them over in his mind as he thought on them applying all their experiences and his knowledge of the Jensaarai to the comment.
 

Turning back to the console, The Sarlacc left Svata to his thoughts; his own mind turning to their future. The galaxy was in turmoil and while the Jedi and Sith made grandiose maneuvers to try and wrest the state of the galaxy towards their chosen ideologies, The Sarlacc knew it was in the small details, the daily acts of kindness and compassion that was where true change awaited. Regimes rose and fell. Truth lived on, held fast in the hearts of all who treasured it. And so, the duo would set off to enact small change as they had on Darhomir, where even now the forces of truth and knowledge steamed forward to keep the word of the Jensaarai and offer glimmers of hope and light in the shadowy underbelly of the grasp of darkness.

 

The Sarlacc’s fingers sailed over the console with precision expertise, diverting their course mid-jump. Turning around, he regarded Svata. “Perhaps some lightsaber training to help recenter your mind?” 

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Kadi followed him deeper into the craft, taking her time as to not knock over anything volatile. She followed his lead, taking a seat across from him as he spoke. He was jaded- maybe he had the right to be. She didn't know what his life had been since he left the Order. She didn't even know who he was before his temporary tenure as a padawan. She listened for a moment, letting him finish before contemplating how to continue.

 

"The council didn't find you. I did. On their behalf, sure, but under Grandmaster Adenna things were... Stagnant. I grieve her loss, as does every Jedi, but the new Grandmaster and her council have made massive strides towards rebuilding the Order to what is once was. We finally have the Jedi to tie up loose ends like this. Despite that, you must understand that there is no 'little ol' you'. The previous leadership thought it best to save lives where they could, as is the Jedi way, but that meant respecting your decision to lead. I was tasked to find you so that we could learn what happened, and if you were willing, to take you back into the Order, but our stance is still that you have no obligation to return. I truly just wish to learn. So, I ask that you tell me- Why did you depart the Order? I've heard a myriad of reasons, so nothing will shock me. I met one former Padawan who simply didn't wish to be involved in the conflict, and another who had grown disillusioned with the Jedi. There were a few who fell to the Dark Side... I think it best to avoid that topic for now though. So tell me- What drove you away?"

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Orpheon took the worn leather book carefully and began to open its pages as the ship lifted off. He could feel the rumble of the engines coursing through his feet as well as through the chair in which he sat. It was clear this ship was not intended with a smooth flight in mind. He gripped the book a little tighter, not wanting to drop this well cared for tome, but also flipping through the pages gingerly, desiring not to ear the old paper. Even at his own initiate stage of Jedi training, he could feel the history and the power of the Sight that was held within this book.

 

"There is no emotion, there is peace."

 

Orpheon spoke calmly, as he always did. He allowed those words and the ones that followed to sink into his mind, feeling the importance of the words even as they escaped his lips. The Chiss continued to flip through the pages, desiring to devour as much of this knowledge as he could. He was sure he would have plenty of time to delve deep into this tome, but he wanted to skim through and see wat he could find. He noticed a drawing showing three stone pillars, each with a word beneath it….Force…Knowledge…Self-Discipline. These seemed to be the tenants of the Jedi Order, the three most important facets that all Jedi seemed to live by.

 

As he became lost in the tome, he could almost feel his hands being guided by something other than his own will. They seemed to turn the pages on their, no conscious thought required. Eventually they began to slow as he turned to particular page. On the page he examined what seemed to be a hand drawn picture of two Jedi in the midst of combat.

 

"Form I Combat."

 

Orpheon drew his finer across the picture, feeling the history of those words. His vision began to swim. The glow from the green and blue lightsabers on the page began to shine off the page. The hum of the energy weapons began to throb in his ears before he slumped back in the seat as darkness took him. A mist seemed to the follow the warrior shrouded in dark blue. His footprints in the snow seemed to almost fill themselves in as he left them. The metal cylinder in his hand had a slight curve, fitting into the palm of his hand perfectly. His presence was the coming of the storm to those who would stand against him or flee from his judgement. Even overheard, dark clouds seemed to follow in his wake, the lightning building within those clouds, giving an air of menace to his approach. The wind whipped the dark blue cloak into the air revealing the black uniform beneath. The dual short swords sheathed at his were also revealed.

 

"Ch'ittoco in'a, your csact'i carcir mah an k'en. Vacosetahn out vim vepihn judgement."

 

He stopped outside the mouth of a cave, the wind still whipping his cloak to the side. His voice seemed to just slide from beneath the hood of his cloak. Despite the brewing storm, his words seemed to drown out the window and crashing thunder.

 

*SNAP-HISS*

A silver-blue blade erupted from the lightsaber in his hand.

……….

Orpheon startled awake. The silver-blue blade still burning bright in his mind as he looked around. He stared at the viewport as the stars began to elongate and the ship leapt into hyperspace. As he adjusted in his seat, he heard Leena approach and begin to rattle. He smiled inward as she continued to speak, each sentence flowing into the next, seemingly without thought. Ironically, her speech seemed to flow like the currents of her homeworld, as Orpheon followed her into the rear of the ship. As she recited the Jedi Code, he recalled those words from the tome he had now carried with him.

 

Reaching out, Orpheon placed his palm over her own. He had very rarely had dealings with Mon Calimari in the past, and he was surprised to feel the suction holes on her hand as he relaxed. Such things did not bother him. His own species was often gawked at over something as simple as blue skin and red eyes. Closing those same glowing eyes, the Chiss attempted to one more calm his mind and open himself to the storm that was his center. As before he could feel the pressure from the storm building as he neared it. Just as he had before, he reached out to touch the storm, wanting to release the building pressure to feel it course through him once more.

 

Yet this time as he reached forward, he felt a darkness within the storm. This is what Leena spoke of. The darkness within himself that he needed to purge. Surging forward, Orpheon searched for the darkness. Allowing his feelings to guide his presence, soon Orpheon grew closer to the dark presence. Growing closer, the pressure of the storm changed. Instead of the growing sense of power and strength, the pressure was full of dread, anger, and fear.

 

Within moments he had come face to face with the darkness. Looking down, Orpheon had taken form within the storm. He was clothed in the white tunic and robes of the Jedi. His blue skin contrasted starkly with the robes, almost making his normally dark skin seem very bright. As he adjusted to having a body within his own presence, he took a step forward, toward the darkness. He watched as the darkness also began to take shape. Even as its shape solidified, it rose from its knees to pacing before Orpheon, its face hidden by the black

hood.

 

"Csah vah vacosetahn ch'at retan'ci ch'ah, mon tocu'ren'mur?"

 

"I don't know what your saying, but you must be purged for me to become a Jedi."

 

With those words, Orpheon surged forward, the light that he represented clashing immediately with the dark form before him. Light and dark energy swirled, intermingling, clashing, some fading away, only to return in place of the other. As the light grew strong, the darkness was able to return beneath it. The light continued to cast shadows giving the darkness strength. As the darkness grew strong, what remained of the light burned all the more brightly instantly shredding away the darkness, only for the cycle to repeat.

After what seemed like years within the storm, both forms repelled. Each falling to their knees, breathing hard. The dark form raised its head, allowing the hood to fall back, revealing the same blue skin, the same glowing red eyes of Orpheon. He smiled as he spoke with the same calm cool voice that the Chiss knew as his own.

 

"There can vacosehn nag tohn..."

"Without the dark."

 

Orpheon finished speaking for the darkness. As he spoke he realized the truth. Balance was necessary for the universe. If one was to become too strong, the destruction wrought across the galaxy would be apocalyptic. But by serving the light, he could maintain the balance. By serving the light he could keep the darkness from becoming the reigning power. For now, that would have to be good enough. Opening his glowing eyes, he spoke calmly, though with a tone of regret.

 

"I am sorry Master Leena. I can't purge the darkness within me. While I can control it, I must maintain a balance within myself, as there must always be balance within the Sight and within the universe."

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"Loose ends like me, huh?" Jackson drummed his fingers against his folded arms for a few moments, taking his sweet time thinking things over. Eventually he sighed and crossed a leg over his other knee, and shrugged.

 

"Well. First off, to say that anything drove me away would be a little misleading. Nothing 'drove' me away. I left because I needed time to sort myself out. Because I could see my own weakness, and because I couldn't stomach the shame. My intentions were always to return, eventually, just after I had the time to settle and learn who I am."

 

His answer was delivered frankly and evenly, uninterrupted even by the datapad that came spinning through the room and into an awaiting hand right at the end. He was apparently finished at that point as he turned his attention to his cargo manifest, making a few last minute additions for his recently claimed scrap.

 

"Still working on that last part of course, but no one ever really knows who they are until the end anyways. If ever. In any case, those were and are my reasons. I am willing to reintegrate however. It's been about long enough, I'd say. Although I suppose the council will want me to run through training all over again, huh?""

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Kadi folded her hands as he spoke. This was more familiar to her. The introspection that was required to be a Padawan was often the cause of washing out. It had almost claimed her, too.

 

"There's no shame in weakness, Jackson. It's present in everyone, in some form. Even our greatest masters have flaws- our former Grandmaster, Adenna, was a skilled warrior, one of the best the Order has ever seen. But she grew complacent and insular as the Sith claimed the Galaxy. Grandmaster Armenia is another talented fighter, and one of the most insightful Jedi I've ever known, but she's constantly battling her own self-doubt. My own Master was excellent at the technical skills of being a Jedi- the lightsaber forms, practical applications of the Force. But he still can't seem to find that spiritual clarity that graces a Jedi Master. I have my own, as well, though I hope you'll forgive me to not divulging them here."

 

She waited a moment for her words to sink in before continuing. "I'm glad you've decided to return. As for the status of your training, that's at my discretion. There's little record remaining of what training you received, and obviously no record of what you're capable of now. For all I know the only thing in the way of your knighthood is a suiting trial, but it could very well also be that you require training to start from scratch, so we'll start there. I can see that you can still control the Force- that's a start. What would you say the extent of your abilities are?" she asked.

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On 1/21/2021 at 9:16 PM, The Sarlacc said:

The Sarlacc’s fingers sailed over the console with precision expertise, diverting their course mid-jump. Turning around, he regarded Svata. “Perhaps some lightsaber training to help recenter your mind?”

 

Even though his head felt like someone had filled it with wet sand, Svata looked up. With two blank, red orbs for eyes, most people would have seen a duros like Sarlacc as eerie and emotionless. Eyes were the windows to the soul after all, wasn't that what people said? So what did it way when someone painted over it with a fresh coat of scarlet?

 

But...Svata saw the kindness there. In the crinkling at the edges of eyes, the smile lines on the face, the relaxed posture...

 

Sarlaac was a good man.

 

Maybe I'm asking too much to expect one big plan to fix the universe.

 

Maybe the universe just needs a few more good men.

 

Svata stood up, and a warmth spread through him as he smiled.

 

"Alright, that sounds good." He cocked an eyebrow, and his grin turned cheeky. "Don't go losing now. Hate to have to explain that to the boys and girls back home."

 

Heh...me winning.

 

He drew his lightsaber hilt, leaving it off for the moment.

 

Yeah right.

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Leena sighed heavily as the duo came out of what should have been a darkness cleansing trance. She had felt the darkness, formless and writhing within the apprentice before her. It picked at the darknesses she had so carefully packaged away and concealed within her own heart, the largest and most recent being the catastrophe that was Mon Cal. She opened her eyes and stared warmly at Orpheon, taking in his crimson eyes that seemed to practically glow with intensity.

 

Speaking softly, she kept ahold of his hand and watched him intently. “Many have thought that they could master the darkness they feel within. The darkness grows wherever the light does not shine and against the light it is driven back. When the light leaves, the darkness returns. Do not apologize. To be a Jedi does not mean that you have no darkness. It means you stand against it and allow it no footholds. There will always be darkness. There will always be a struggle of balance. To give a foothold to the darkness is to allow it a chance to extinguish the light. You must not do that.”

 

Leena watched as her words found rest in the Jedi hopeful’s ears. She wondered what the darkness was that welled up within him, where it had come from, and why he wanted to hold it. He and she were so different. She had been raised amongst the Jedi from infancy. She had not been subject to the same temptations the dark side offered. Leena did not know what it was this seeker carried with him. She watched him in silence for several minutes before adding, “As Jedi, we embrace the light and stand against darkness. Search yourself, can you fight the darkness in yourself to stand for the cause of light?” Squeezing his hand, Leena smiled, “We can try again when you are ready. Let my own light empower yours and use it to contain your own darkness. This is the basis of dark side purging and even Jedi battle meditation.” 
 

The force swirled warmly in and around the duo, spurned on in embracing warm waves of goodness by Leena’s gentle prodding. In the silence she awaited Orpheon’s next move.

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The Sarlacc beamed warmly. Even if his rather expressionless face did not show it, his care and compassion radiated from his distinctly alien pores. With a sweeping motion of his hand, the Jensaarai Defender sent the few loose bits and pieces in the room sliding into the walls about their perimeter in a gust of force-induced momentum.

 

Pulling his hilt from his belt, The Sarlacc nodded deeply to Svata. He knew the elder Ryn was full of surprises. It was a Jensaarai trait that his apprentice naturally had an affinity for. Still, this was training, a practice duel as it were, to hone their already sharpened skills and senses for their next inevitable encounter. Using live fully powered blades, they needed to extend caution as well, lest one render the other incapable.

 

Spinning the unlit hilt in his hand, the Sarlacc spoke, his voice smooth as he began to circle about their empty training space; a cat circling it’s prey. “The Jedi and the Sith have, like so many others, perfected numerous forms of combat. It is wise for a Defender to know them. To familiarize oneself with them and others is within the paths of a Jensaarai Defender.” He continued to circle, his hilt twirling effortlessly in his fingers as he spoke, his mind surging forth on the force to prod Svata’s defenses, seen or unseen“Still, as the Jensaarai takes this knowledge, so to do we grow and expand upon it. We use the armor of a Sith, the dedication of a Jedi, and the weapons of both. We expand though. By and large, the Jedi focus upon their blade, the Sith on their power. A lightsaber is a powerful tool, nothing more; but it is more than an energized blade.”

 

As he spoke and spun his hilt, The Sarlacc suddenly flicked his wrist and on a wave of the force sent the deactivated hilt spinning parallel to the ground, ethereally tethered in force to his hand and mind. The blade would only be activated as it made it’s final spin towards Svata’s body.

 

All the while, The Sarlacc continued to speak. “As Jensaarai, we do not seek to fight; nor do we overly concern ourselves with the finer points of combat when we need not. A Jensaarai’s goal is to bring the combat to a close as soon as it has begun. We preserve life where we may and take it only if forced.”

 

Stepping backwards, The Sarlacc’s second hand fell to his waist and the weapons and gear about his belt. Should his blade not circle back around to him after it’s attack he wanted to be prepared for whatever Svata brought to the table. This was lightsaber training, but that did not mean other means were off the table to further the combat training they engaged in. Every one of his senses were attuned to his apprentice and the room about them. While a Jensaarai threw themselves into combat, fueled by their emotions, The Sarlacc held himself close, unwilling to become a blazing beacon of power, lest he strike down his apprentice.

 

((1))

 

((Force probed Svata’s mind and defenses; threw unlit lightsaber hilt at Svata from across the room, activating it at the last second to try and bisect his apprentice; stepped back and prepared for counterattack))

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"I've kept up my studies for the most part. I've specialized primarily in Shien, as that is generally the most useful out here in the graveyards, and most of my force ability is at least tangentially relevant to pulling apart derelicts. Sensing, hiding my presence, ripping panels off of hull frames and the like. Occasionally crushing a reactivated security system. Barriers have been greatly useful as well of course, whether it be to stop something from venting atmo to covering myself from pirates or blaster fire. Bit of a far cry from my apprenticeship under Organa, back when I could barely hear."

 

Jackson casually divulged the majority of his capabilities to his visitor, though he certainly still kept a few tricks under his hat, just in case. Well-seeming as she was he had long ago learned his lesson on being too trusting, not to mention that it was always difficult for him to throw lists together on the spot. Just how much practice he had gotten in staying hidden and ending fights quickly and brutally was one of those things that he chose to be decidedly careful about revealing, as well as how those tied in to the rest of his skillsets.

 

"Always wanted to find a manuscript on Juyo or Vapaad, but those are understandably scarce around these parts. Although I would have to look into some body strengthening exercises for those, I believe. Those aren't exactly part of my repertoire of force abilities."

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Orpheon listened intently as Leena spoke. Her words made complete sense, yet there was something he could not shake. Something that deep inside spoke to him of balance between the light and the dark. While he knew he would always stand against the dark in the world, did he have the strength to stand against the darkness within himself? Could he always stand vigilant against that dark version of himself? The version that should it be released would surely attempt to destroy all that was good and pure.

 

He nodded curtly as he once more closed his eyes. The after image of Leens body heat seemed to stay with him for a moment before once more, he forced his own consciousness inward. He felt a squeeze of his hand as he let himself fall deeper and deeper into the Sight. He watched as the storm once again revealed itself. As he grew closer, he felt the pressure once again. It was growing stronger each time he entered it. Perhaps the storm was his connection to the Sight. Perhaps this was always how he would reach into the Sight. As he neared the tempest, the gale winds seemed to part and allow him passage. Once more as he entered, his current form began to shift into that of the light side version of himself. And yet once again, he watched as the darkness in the center of the storm began to take shape. This time it happened quickly. Before even fully forming, it leapt at him. He could almost hear a scream of rage as it struck at him again and again.

 

Orpheon took the beatings. He could feel each strike of the darkness as an emotion that played itself out in his mind. The strike to his face was the anger of a man yelling at his brother over something so simple. Orpheon watched as the younger brother simply accepted the screaming, letting the older lash out in fury. The kick to his midsection was the hatred of one species for another. How could people allow them to control a planet full of rich, while the other is stuck on a desolate moon, forever meant to scratch a living off rocks and dust. The strike at his leg was the fear of a man losing his wife. How could someone so pure be taken from him just when happiness was within reach? These were the emotions that the dark side represented. They were the emotions of an entire galaxy, yet they were also the emotions of each individual. They were the emotions of Orpheon Katakros as well.

 

With that realization, the Chiss struck back at his darkness. Anger was met with acceptance. Hatred was countered by forgiveness. Fear was driven back by hope and love. With each strike, the darkness wilted until it was nothing more than a sobbing man in a dark robe. Orpheon raised his eyes to the storm. He watched as static began to build within the clouds. The blue energy slowly expanding until in one powerful bolt, it struck the darkness. When the flash was over, a sphere of blue-white light had surrounded the darkside entity. Across the sphere, scenes of positive emotions played out, each designed to keep it at bay.

 

"And this is where you will remain. Not destroyed. Not gone. But contained."

 

Orpheon opened his eyes once more. He looked at Leena before speaking calmy.

 

"I will always stand against the dark side. In the world and within myself. I may not be able to destroy the darkness within myself. But I will always fighting it, and keep it from ruling me."

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Leena closed her eyes as she sat there with Orpheon. She felt his internal struggle. She felt the surge of the storm within his core as it lashed out with anger, hatred, and fear. Slowly, almost microscopically, Leena fed her light into Orpheon, willing him to fight back, to push his own light against the dark and emerge the victor. Her own light was a wave of warm soothing light that surged alongside the Jedi hopeful.

 

As he fought back, Leena withdrew slightly as she felt the Chiss counter the darkness. When he contained it within the stormsurge of light, a smile played across the young Knight’s face.

 

As Orpheon opened his eyes, so did Leena. She squeezed his hand warmly as she let her own hands fall back to her own lap. “That is all that we ask of any Jedi.”

 

Leena offered Orpeon a warm smile, “The darkness offers many false promises of quick power and success; but eventually it ends in ruin. So how about we start with some other training?  Containing and repelling the darkness can wear even the most seasoned Jedi out. Let’s try something else.” The girl looked around; to her left, to her right, she even twisted her back to look behind her before turning back to face Orpheon. Grabbing her smooth silvery lightsaber hilt, Leena held it up at eye level. “Close your eyes again. It helps one concentrate a lot of times. Block out everything else. Find the hilt with your mind. Reach out on the force. Feel it. Grasp it. Then . . . “


Leena paused and lowered her hand, the shimmering hilt hovering in the air as it slowly began to spin about like a bottle on the floor in some drunken game. The smooth metal caught the light from above as it glinted off the myriad of surfaces of the smooth cylinder.

 

Leena folded her hands in her lap as she looked at Orpheon, the hilt slowly circling. “Take the saber. Call it to your hand, but do not reach out for it.”
 

 

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Svata frowned. As his teacher spoke, his voice the pleasant drone of an caring instructor, something felt...off. Svata felt exposed, in a sensation that was oddly familiar.

 

The rancor.

 

Yes, back on Dathomir, when Svata had exposed his mind and soul to the rancor, it had felt like this, though more intense. This was...furtive. Quiet.

 

Poking at my head? Fortunately you taught me how to deal with this kind of thing, teacher. Can you read what's not there?

 

Svata began to let himself become part of the moment, using the Secret of Evaporation to conceal himself from his master...when his master threw something at him.

 

Is that...

 

A lightsaber hilt.

 

Kriff!

 

Svata had no time for an artful dodge. He leapt straight back, his body dropping to the floor while moving backwards from the oncoming bit of metal. The hiss of the lightsaber activating followed a split second before Svata hit the metal floor. Svata's eyes opened, ignoring the pain in his back that was no doubt going to be far worse in a few hours.

 

Well, not dead or burning...so good sign there.

 

Svata gritted his teeth as he used the martial arts training the Jensaarai had drilled into him to roll to his feet, displaying a spryness that belied his age. His back protested the move, muscles already stiffening from the sudden fall.

 

It's not about if you fall...it's about how fast you get up!

 

A grin stole over his face at the thought of his uncle's decades old advice.

 

Always wanted to try this...

 

Svata spun his dual-bladed lightsaber in one hand and activated it, creating a bright, spinning yellow marvel.

 

A lovely distraction.

 

His other hand casually flipped his blaster out of its holster and fired two stun blasts from the hip towards his master.

 

((1))

 

(Dropped to the floor to dodge the thrown lightsaber, taking a bad fall to do it, got back up and used the activating of his lightsaber as a distraction while drawing his blaster and making two hip shot stun blasts.)

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The Sarlacc’s eyebrow raised as he noted his apprentice’s mental push against his own probing. It was good that Svata was aware enough to understand what was going on. In as much as the Jensaarai sought knowledge and truth, so too did they seek to protect it. The blue-green Defender would have voiced this, had it not been for the sudden rigors of combat that began to unfold. For the moment, he was content that his apprentice had responded in the Jensaarai way.

 

The Sarlacc’s grip tightened on his collapsible aros at his belt line as he felt his probe repulsed and the signature of Svata’s presence gray and waiver. Still, he could visually see the man, illuminated in a athletic flop by the royal hue of his suddenly activated blade as it tasted thin air before hissing back within it’s internal sheath to careen back around the edge of the field in a force propelled arc. 
 

It was then that the Ryn’s own blades ignited with a telltale duel hiss. Even as they did, the two connected blades were a burst of sunlight in the training hold as they blurred into a circular spinning prop like so many they had encountered on less developed worlds. This is a saber duel afterall, the defender noted to himself as his own weapon arced free from the immediate field. If it was to be such a training, it would appear the Defender had put himself at a disadvantage from the starting gate. 
 

The Sarlacc shook his head, it was of no matter; for even though he and his saber were separated by time, the bond of the force between the two hummed strong.

 

And then it happened, the disruption of Svata’s imprint in the force clouded the elder’s movements. Two bright and growing circles of blue energy erupted from where Svata stood. It was with barely a thought that The Sarlacc recognized the telltale sight and sound of a stun shot being fired. It echoed in the air. Had he been clearly visible in the force, The Sarlacc might have had time to react, to grab the gun with the force and wrestle it off target or to throw up some sort of ad hoc shield. As it was, he was not prepared and so all he could do was react; his body instinctually moving with his preconceived plan. 

 

On instinct, The Sarlacc reacted; his body already tensed and ready to move. With a flick of his wrist, the aros at his waist was free. In that same motion one end of the collapsible staff extended and struck the ground with an echoing ting, an extension of the Duros body and will. The Defender was already in motion, using this third point as a fulcrum to vault himself upwards, clear of the incoming stun blasts. The sharp collapsed opposite end of the weapon dug uncomfortably into The Sarlacc’s  hand as his full weight bore down on it. He felt the tickle of radiated energy as the blasts from the heavy blaster narrowly missed him; sending tingling sensations racing up and down the Defender’s unarmored left leg.

 

As he came to land, his right foot caught on the decking, firm and clear of the shots. His left; however, still twitching with cast off energy, hit the ground and slid, toppling The Sarlacc forwards, towards Svata and his spinning blade. A silent muscle-tensing bolt of pain shot up the Defender’s leg and into his side - a sprained muscle at the least.

 

Swinging his cortosis-alloy half-extended aros about in a wide arc, The Sarlacc sought to crash the weapon into the spinning maelstrom of Svata’s blades. His grip on the weapon loosening so that the weapon

might be torn from his hands in the momentum of his foe and cast like a mislaid hydrospanner in a podracer engine - a tumult of chaos so as to damage whatever or wherever it was careened by the power of the propeller. 

 

In that same moment, The Sarlacc loosed his mental grasp upon his saber hilt, one that had endured despite the agony that now tore at his stomach from his strained leg. The weapon tumbled harmless to the ground, a spinning top somewhere beyond him and behind his apprentice. In that moment, it did not matter though; for as much as this combatted contest was one between brothers, it was still that, a contest of combat from which one would emerge a victor and one defeated, both bearing the knowledge of lessons learned.

 

Releasing his grips on his weapons, saber and aros, The Sarlacc reached with a glance as his hands pushed down on the floor, his eyes focusing on the heavy blaster in Svata’s hand. With a force-imbued heave fueled by his own pain, The Sarlacc sought to telekinetically wrench the weapon awry, slamming it upwards in an attempt to deliver a cranially corrective blow to his apprentice’s face.

 

And as he attacked, The Sarlacc swung his legs around readying himself to move once again, his strained muscle protesting in silent shooting pains that the Defender used to focus his own attentions on the task at hand. 

 

((2))

 

((Repulsed by Svata’s mental defenses. Precognitive abilities hampered by lightsaber distraction and Secret of Evaporation usage.

Used his staff to leap relatively clear of the shots using what had been the basis for his second set of movement; still getting zinged by the radiating energy of the stun blasts, causing The Sarlacc to sprawl as he landed.

Swung his staff (aros) at Svata’s spinning blades and will release the staff into the momentum of the blades if there is a connection.
Telekinetically let go of his saber hilt allowing it to fall and turned this telekinetic focus to Svata’s blaster and tried to slam it into Svata’s face)) 

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On 1/29/2021 at 12:47 PM, The Sarlacc said:

Swinging his cortosis-alloy half-extended aros about in a wide arc, The Sarlacc sought to crash the weapon into the spinning maelstrom of Svata’s blades. His grip on the weapon loosening so that the weapon

might be torn from his hands in the momentum of his foe and cast like a mislaid hydrospanner in a podracer engine - a tumult of chaos so as to damage whatever or wherever it was careened by the power of the propeller. 

 

In that same moment, The Sarlacc loosed his mental grasp upon his saber hilt, one that had endured despite the agony that now tore at his stomach from his strained leg. The weapon tumbled harmless to the ground, a spinning top somewhere beyond him and behind his apprentice. In that moment, it did not matter though; for as much as this combatted contest was one between brothers, it was still that, a contest of combat from which one would emerge a victor and one defeated, both bearing the knowledge of lessons learned.

 

Releasing his grips on his weapons, saber and aros, The Sarlacc reached with a glance as his hands pushed down on the floor, his eyes focusing on the heavy blaster in Svata’s hand. With a force-imbued heave fueled by his own pain, The Sarlacc sought to telekinetically wrench the weapon awry, slamming it upwards in an attempt to deliver a cranially corrective blow to his apprentice’s face.

 

And as he attacked, The Sarlacc swung his legs around readying himself to move once again, his strained muscle protesting in silent shooting pains that the Defender used to focus his own attentions on the task at hand. 

 

Svata hissed through his teeth as his teacher slid towards him, as fast as he remembered. The spinning arc of Svata's blade caught the arcing staff just as Svata ended the fanciful twirl, re-established a firm grip on the weapon, and pushed one-handed as hard as he could against the incoming staff. The Sarlacc's cortosis weapon, already loose in his fingers, tore free and flew into the metal wall where it raised a ringing hum before bouncing down to the floor in a clangor. Svata, having overcorrected for what he thought would be a parry, left himself open as he was forced to widen his step to keep from tumbling sideways under the momentum of his own overzealous block. Even if by some miracle he'd been holding onto a thread of his attempt at the Secret of Evaporation before, it was gone now.

 

Fighting with a lightsaber was complicated enough, but a true Jensaarai like the Sarlacc understood the trick of mixing solid weapons and their momentum into a fight. Only now...he was unarmed.

 

But a man who walks with the Force is never unarmed.

 

Caught off guard, Svata's blaster arched up on unseen directive towards Svata's face, and only a quick head turn saw the blunt metal scrape a layer of skin off his cheekbone, saving him from an addled moment that would have spelled his end.

 

With the flip of a man practiced at sleight of hand, the blaster dropped from his fingers to be caught by his tail by the barrel before it could clatter to the floor. His master still had his armor and the Force. Svata had to end this quickly or he'd lose what little ground he'd gained with the stun blasts.

 

Dropping any pretense of clever tricks, Svata fell into the classic Form VI stance and took his dual-bladed lightsaber into both hands, jabbing out like a spear towards Sarlaac's right leg.

 

If his left leg had been grazed by the stun blasts, then forcing him to lean on it might...might...keep him off balance long enough for Svata to figure out how he was going to beat a trained Jensaarai Defender.

 

((2))

 

(Was thrown off balance by Sarlaac's trick of deliberately keeping a loose grip on the staff, but managed to avoid being addled by the blaster being Force pushed towards his face.

 

Svata dropped the blaster to be held by his tail, and jabbed out with his lightsaber towards Sarlaac's right foot, hoping to force him to put weight on his left.)

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Orpheon watched as his new Jedi Master removed a lightsaber from her waist. He admired the craftmanship that was evident in its construction. He kept his eye on the hilt of the traditional Jedi weapon as the Mon Calimari removed her hand, yet the weapon remained in the air. It slowly began to rotate as if on axis. He listened intently as she instructed him on how to reach out to the hilt.

 

The Chiss apprentice let out a long exhale and slowly allowed his eyes to fall shut. He continued to focus on his breathing, allowing his breaths to become easy and slowly. He felt his arms fall to his crossed knees and his hands fell open, his fingers extended but loose. Focusing within himself, he reached out for the storm that by now he knew was within him. He allowed the wind and the lightning to course through him. Orpheon could feel the thunder pounding within his chest, the strength within him building as he extended his focus to the floating lightsaber hilt.

 

Initially he felt nothing. Nothing but the pounding storm inside him. Each crack of lighting from the storm was shortly followed by a pulse of loud thunder deep within him. He continued to focus his breathing, eventually each breath in was the deep roll of thunder, each exhale a snap-crack of lightning. Orpheon began to feel his arm begin to raise, his hand rolling over and opening to accept the weapon should it leapt into his hand. The Jedi apprentice timed his breathing, and, on his exhale, he forced the crack of lightning from his hand visualizing it wrapping around the floating weapon. (ooc: No lightning did not actually leap from my hand. It is a visualization within his mind) Before he knew it, Orpheon felt the cool metal hit his palm and his eyes snapped open. But he did not see the interior of a starship before him.

 

He was surrounded by nearly a hundred other Chiss warriors. Each of them wearing the high necked uniform of the Defense Force. Each carried a pistol at their side and held a sword in the hand. A drill sergeant stood on a platform in the middle of the groupings. He also held a sword in his hand, though more elaborate and seemingly much more cared for.

 

“Out bah ch'ir hundred, bav shouldn't vacosehn sah csah “

(Out of every hundred, ten shouldn’t be here.)

 

K'sit'ah in'a!       

(Strike one!)

 

He quickly performed an overheard slash using only 75% speed before rotating to the side and performing a side slash. As his opponents blade met his he retreated a step blocking a high strike of his partner.

 

”Eighty bah vah are meant ch'at vacosehn slain”

(Eighty of you are meant to be slain!)

 

“K'sit'ah ba 

(Strike two.)

 

Another overheard slash quickly, pulling the hilt back to his shoulder before plunging the tip forward. He quickly rolled his shoulder and sliced his blade toward the neck of his training partner. All his attacks were met with resistance. As he pulled back to the opening stance, he watched his training partners widen and then narrow. A voice then echoed in his head.

 

“Vah are nah Mith'owl’eren. Tir bav. NON!

(You are not Mith’owl’eren. Leave him. NOW!)

 

Orpheon was shocked back to himself. He had risen to his feet, the lightsaber ignited in his hand as he stood in the opening stance from his dream, knees slightly bent, weapon in front of him at an angle. He quickly recovered himself and disengaged the blade.

 

"I apologize Master Leena. For a moment I was not myself. I was not here."

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The Sarlacc did not stop his momentum to see if his attacks connected. He heard his staff clatter against the wall with a hollowed ring. Suddenly the Jensaarai Defender felt with clarity his apprentice, the charade falling to the wayside as the Ryn turned his focus to his bladework.

 

The Sarlacc felt the incoming strike a fraction of a second before it came and he jerked his leg back instinctively, the tip of the blade searing the pilot’s uniform he was wearing as it’s plasmatic blade tinged his blue-green skin, filling the air with the acrid smells of his flame retardant uniform curling back against the heat. A sharp smell wafted into the air.

 

Instinct was a life saver. As a warrior of the force, instinct often kept the Defender alive, his body his weapon and he a master of it’s form. When a weapon is chipped though, forms must change. If they do not, weaknesses can be exposed and if one does not adapt, their weapon might be shattered. So to was it with The Sarlacc as he jerked his leg to safety, the opposite tensing as it tingled anew. The strain of his pulled muscle tugged with invisible claws at his gut, dropping the Jensaarai low as his momentum carried him backwards, slamming his rear to the floor as he slid haphazardly backwards away from his apprentice.

 

The sharp bolt of pain from impacting the floor mingled with the newfound arcing lightning that tore at The Sarlacc’s side. That pain twisted as it seemed to take on a life of it’s own, a dragon bellowing in pain upon the waves of the force. It’s fiery breath was practically palpable in the air as the fierce determination settled in the red eyes of the Duros.

 

The force swirled with the power of the ethereal beast as the pain coarsed through the lithe being’s body, and still, he contained it; it’s fiery wind seeking release. The glow of yellow sunlight was a spear that sought to pierce his scales and yet the weapon was double sided, one lethal point outstretched in damnation, the other buzzing with equal hunger, yet directed not at it’s foe but it’s master. In that moment, The Sarlacc reacted on instinct, his mind and body unified in purpose. With a telekinetic propulsion that lasted less than a moment, using the momentum of his own fall, The Sarlacc lashed out with his hands. He cupped the invisible power of the force and sent it surging forward towards Svata’s blade in an effort to drive it’s opposite spearpoint of light towards his apprentice. The ballistakinetic display of power was usually reserved for small and microscopic projectiles, thrown en masse; but it could and was being applied in greater singular focus on his foe’s blade. In that moment, The Sarlacc rolled backwards, landing on his knees, his body growling in pain; a snarl that escaped the Duros lipless mouth in an animalistic display of the raw emotions that he contained within his form - only to be released at his command.

 

Extending his hand, The Sarlacc called his deactivated hilt back towards him, the metallic hilt whirling through the air with a deathly heaving pulse. It’s weight pulled by the force beyond it’s own momentum.

 

((3))

 

((Leapt back to avoid the stab from Svata’s lunge, toppling backwards and sliding as he collapsed from his internal pain and momentum of reaction to the incoming blow.

Rolled backwards to his knees, unleashing the draconic emotions that are standard of a Jensaarai in combat in a blast of telekinetic energy tontry abd force Svata’s second blade back into Svata.

Used the force to call his hilt back towards him. (Can be used as an attack if Pheristroch wants it to be, otherwise it is just to call bis blade back to him.)))

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Leena watched intently as her newfound apprentice struggles to find his center. She felt the force surge as he connected with it. The Jedi Knight inhaled sharply as she felt the storm within take hold. She felt it as it reached out into the air around them. It was not dark, but the power it carried had with it the calm of a massive downpour, one that could drench an area with violence and surge forward, leaving a void in it’s wake. It was a void that she knew all too well could be filled by the winds of darkness.

 

Even as the vision took hold, Leena remained seated, her sparkling eyes staring intently at the apprentice as he was lost within the ravages of the storm that surged inside. She reached out on the force, adding the calming ripples of the force within her center to flow outwards against the surges of ravaging power that called forth from the Chiss. She could not see what visions washed through Orpheus’ mind. She only sought to envelope the area in light, keeping the darkness at bay so it did not   wash in on a tidal surge should he be overwhelmed by the sheer power that arced electrically about them. Leena could feel the surging of power about them, her apprentice deeply connected to the force in a way that differed from her own connection, one honed and developed through years of training, called forth as a calm within the storm, not the storm itself. His was raw, full of power and potential, dangerous yet beautiful. It was one that needed shaped and wrought without being chipped away to a shadow of what it could be.

 

Leena watched, her confidence in the force shielding her from fear as her blade ignited, bathing the area in a warm watery teal hue. She watched as he moved as if facing off against an invisible enemy, an enemy of the mind. She pushed against his mind, but was repulsed by the power of the storm that seethed inside. Yet she sat.

 

And as Orpheus’ brought his saber down to his opening stance, a crack broke the charged air, a fiery duo of blades erupting from the shadows. Raging infernos sprung from the wrists of the white-robed being of mystery behind his mask as they caught Leena’s teal blade, should the apprentice continue in his trance.

 

A second after Orpheus deactivated Leena’s blade, The Mantis’ blades returned to oblivion within their sheaths. The Jensaarai’s armored face stared emotionlessly into the Chiss’ before he silently tugged Leena’s saber from his grasp. He did not need to speak, the aura of his presence spoke aplenty. He would do whatever was necessary to protect his charge. Without looking to Leena, The Mantis offered her her deactivated hilt, not taking his sight from Orpheus; even as he slowly disappeared back into the shadows, his very presence coalescing with the world around them until he was a mere thought carried upon the wind.

 

Slowly Leena stood up, tucking her saber into her white cloth belt. She placed a hand on her apprentice’s shoulder, “What did you feel? What did you see? I sense much power in you Orpheus. The force flows in you and with you as if you are but a vessel of it’s virtue. Let me help you maintain it so you are not consumed.”

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Orpheon allowed shock to briefly register on his face as Mantis seemed to emerge from the shadows to block a potential strike against Leena. While the Chiss initiate had no intention of performing a wounding or killing strike against his Jedi Master, clearly for a brief moment he was not in control of his own actions. He allowed Mantis to remove the weapon from his hand with no resistance and took a step back before collapsing into a small chair. He felt a small pull against his leg as the womp-rat that he brought with him crawled up his leg to settle in his lap. He smiled briefly before speaking to Leena.

 

"I felt the Sight as a storm once again. It does not feel as if it flows through me. It feels more as if it brews and rages inside me. As if it originates from within me, yet its winds and strength are connected to it all. "

 

He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing.

 

"As soon as your saber touched my hand, I blacked out. Suddenly I was somewhere else. There were nearly a hundred other Chiss around me. I think it was a military training facility. A man, I think a Sergeant, was calling out commands. Training cadences, I think. Something about it was very familiar, yet very distant. Right before I was brought back, I think someone realized I was seeing through another persons eyes."

 

"Is the Sight something that is meant to be controlled? Or are we meant to flow with it? Or perhaps, are we as Jedi meant to be find some balance in the middle?"

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Leena nodded as she listened, slowly standing to a height closer to her apprentice’s. She regarded her saber for a moment, but cast aside any thought of residual memories carried by the weapon or it’s components. The saber had been with her since she had constructed it, each piece new and untouched or tainted; purged of any possible residual darkness as an added measure. The Mon Cal focused on Orpheon’s eyes as he spoke. She took in his words as a doctor listens to her patient describe his symptoms; turning them over in her mind. It did not strike her as an illness, but she was ever cautious and made a mental note to not allow the Chiss access to any potential force-imbued weaponry until they better understood what was going on.

 

“The Sight as you call it, is the force. Many people across many cultures and ages have called it many things, but they are all the the cosmic entity of the force. Within each of us is our own force-essence. It is possible that your essence is born of a storm of some sort. We will have to see. We do not control the force and bend it to our will, to do so, would be to subvert it and defile it. That is of the dark side. Instead, we act as it’s servants, we channel it’s powers and by doing so are granted a measure of control from it. We serve the living force my friend, we do not balance the force, for to do so would be to allow corruption and darkness a foothold. We seek to remain a natural servant of the force, carried by it’s guidings but not led astray by it’s own darkness corrupted in the hearts of fallible being.”

 

Leena pursed her lips for a moment as one of the shorted furred Squibs came ambling back, nonchalantly interrupting without a care, “Best most assuredly buckle up soon right-away like. We be making much-fast entry to Ilum very soon soon. It might possibly get a wee bit little bump bum bumpity.” He turned and wandered back towards the cockpit without another word. Outside the viewscreen the icy world of Ilum began to loom.

 

Turning back to Orpheon, Leena smiled and gestured towards their seats. “The Squibs are not known for their graceful landings,” she said as she secured her harness snuggly. “Whatever the vision is or was, don’t let it bother you too much. Focus on the here and now. Be mindful of the world around you. Pasts and futures cannot be changed any more than the present if you are not there. We serve the force where we are. So lets focus on what we have to do here.”

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Triumph rose in Svata like the sunrise as he saw his master take the fall and slide back. He'd half expected to lose his hand in that maneuver, even considering the ridiculousness of the fear given that his master was unarmed.

 

He strode forward. He would point the tip of the blade at Sarlacc's throat and call an end. He couldn't believe it. Against all odds, against all sense, he had actually-

 

Sarlacc held up his hands. For the tiniest fraction of a second, Svata thought his master might be calling an end to the duel.

 

Then his mind caught up, and his fear followed.

 

Dropping low, hoping to dodge whatever missile his master intended to send at him, Svata made the crucial mistake of loosening his grip on his saber. He didn't even notice the tug until the tip was searing his side. He screamed, and reflexes trumped precision as he jerked away from the blade and dropped it, the blades deactivating though the damage was done. Searing pain lanced through his side, and though Svata tried to master it, the only thing that ran through his mind was an acute awareness of the agony mixing with the acrid stench of cooking flesh. He gritted his teeth, eyes watering, only catching a glimpse of his master's saber returning. 

 

No time then. Svata could barely stand, much less swing a saber. Attack now, or lose for sure.

 

Svata's tail whipped up, and his blaster settled back into his hand. No careful aiming this time. Svata pumped the blaster again and again, sending stun blast after stun blast winging at his master in wild shots.

 

 

((3))

 

((Nearly incapacitated and in agony from the blade cutting his side thanks to Sarlacc's ballistakinesis, Svata drew his blaster and fired wildly at Sarlacc, hoping to catch him while prone and recovering his lightsaber))

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Kadi nodded as he spoke, though she was concerned in his interest of Vapaad. It was a dangerous form, and more than just a physical mantra. Beyond the use of the blade, it was a mindset, one that if not mastered would easily send him into the endless abyss of the Dark Side. She kept her concerns to herself for now- this wasn't a question to criticize him, merely to gauge his abilities. He seemed capable for a padawan, though mistrusting. She briefly wondered what had caused that mentality in him. That was a question for another day, however. Other than that, it sounded like he'd made good progress, but he still would require proper training. Knowing how to use the force in certain manners was one thing, knowing when and for what purpose was another. There was also the concerns of his attitude- mistrusting, half truths and the like were dangerous for a Jedi.

 

"Then it's settled, I suppose. I will finish your training, and take you on a few missions on behalf of the Jedi council. Afterwards, I can better assess your abilities, where you can improve, and if you're prepared to become a Jedi Knight."

 

She stood, glancing back at the entry to the ship she'd arrived on. He could probably bring his own with them, but she wanted to have a chance to discuss his training with him. Alas, it was not to be. As she opened her mouth to speak, her communicator chirped with an incoming call.

 

"One moment please, Jackson." A voice crackled across the room as she answered the call, fuzzy from poor connection.

 

"Kadi, how's your mission?" It was her old master, calling to check up on her.

 

"Going well. I've found Jackson, and he's agreed to return to the Jedi for further training."

 

"Fantastic!" The voice exclaimed, before trailing off. "There's a system near your last transmitted coordinates, I'm sending it to you now- its star is preparing to go supernova, and the citizens need all the help they can get evacuating. We'd send transports, but there are magnetic anomalies that wreak havoc on larger vessels. Your new task is to take Padawan Jackson with you to help these people evacuate. I'm afraid I can't spend much time catching up- there's something big going on here. I'll tell you more when I know what."

 

There was a small series of beeps, and the call was ended. She looked at Jackson, giving him a shrug. "The work of a Jedi is never finished. I'll transmit the coordinates to you, and we can meet back up in orbit before we begin evacuating."

 

"

 

 

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Jackson nodded and waved, partly to say goodbye and partly to usher her out of his ship. He himself was already getting to his feet by the time she had finished speaking, making way to his cockpit to begin plotting his course. "Not really set up for taking passengers, I'll probably ferry 'em up to any stations or ships for safekeeping. Good luck."

 

Taking passengers wasn't exactly a new prospect for him: when he had first gotten his ship running he had tried getting into the transport business. It was only after his first full tour that he had remembered that he just didn't like dealing with people for so long at one time, leading him to quit and turn his efforts into much more comfortable, if a little less lucrative, business. Transporting cargo and scrapping, mainly.

 

But that had been a long time ago. The young man sighed and plugged himself into the Plunder, snapping out of his reminiscing to enter the coordinates Kali sent him. He only vaguely remembered the system, recalling something about a stop there on his way to the next debris field. Something stood out about the hazy memories besides that it was beginning to go supernova, something important... he shrugged. Just not that important, surely, or he would have remembered it.

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The Sarlacc vs Svata Dragoste

 

Overall, very well done from both characters. Duels between apprentices and their masters can be a little dicey regarding power levels, and I believe you both wrote to that very well. A little different from most training duels, usually you aren’t actually trying to kill each other.

 

Dialogue: Speaking and monologuing is great for character build-up and is generally considered a “free-action”, however, Sarlacc I would caution the use of full dialogue between attacks for the following reasons; duel posts should take a very short amount of time between attacks, and it doesn’t make much storyline sense for a person to take on the attack of another, wait for them to stop speaking and then attack back. It tends to throw the pacing of a duel off-kilter very quickly.

 

Aside from pacing issues, Sarlacc, your dialogue was very much written as one would speak, which for many RPers does not come naturally.

 

Svata, your internal thoughts were done very well and portrayed action-response and gave true life to your characterization, I applaud you, as well as Sarlacc for this.

 

Damage Taken: You both did a fantastic job taking damage and respecting each other’s attacks, no attack went unaddressed it appeared as though both sides took appropriate damage for the attacks given. It did seem a bit odd to see pain as a fuel for a non-darksider’s connection to the lightside, but that is not my purview, nor in my scope for judgement.

 

Attacks: There was a lot of things going on in this duel, a lot of things to manage with not only there being force propelled lightsabers, but blasters and rods and all sorts of force shenanigans like the Defender’s evaporation. A word of caution here: there was a lot of telekinetic application to devices held to turn the opponent’s own weapon into an attack against them. There is a lot of grey in this, while not an internalized attack, there is a lot of potential for abuse in such attacks for the following reason: If you take control of an opponent’s weapon in order to attack them with it, it’s incredibly more powerful than a normal attack, there isn’t an ability to parry, that opponent has to overcome and defend themselves from their own weapon (because of “respect your opponent’s attacks”) and then somehow also attack you back with the thing you just used against them. It runs this dangerous razor’s edge between god-modding and being okay, so be incredibly careful with it.

 

The Ruling: This one was really close, both sides were rather equal coming into the third post, but at the end, Sarlacc’s reliance on ballistakinesis against a lightsaber is kinda telekinesis at that point and, there is much in the way of controversy on whether one can apply telekinesis to energy beam at all due to its intangible nature since there is no mass to push on at all. Svata’s use stun blasts were simple yet effective in contrast.

 

The Winner is Svata. Well done to you both.

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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