Silas
Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken
742 posts
10 likes
Lord of the Morning, I have come for you!
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last online Jun 24, 2023 23:32:54 GMT -5
Guardian
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Nov 22, 2012 23:29:36 GMT -5
Post by Silas on Nov 22, 2012 23:29:36 GMT -5
There's was a certain disposition to the air, the kind that couldn't be truly understood or comprehended until it was felt. Perhaps it could be heard or empathized with, but it would never be completely understood in full unless met face to face. There he stood, a foot in the ashes of poverty strewn through the dirt and the grime of this planet that had been forgotten throughout the years. Neglect had been its service, and hatred had become Montitia's mistress over the many years that the Republic had left it to die.
The shuttle puttered as it made its way down to the landing pad, the lines that made a guide for the ships glittered in the pale light of a nearby moon. Their was a brief change in the air pressure as the air from the planet flooded through the vents. A man stood on his left, a trusted Knight that stared blankly ahead as the ramp dropped down. A step as soon as it began to fall ensured he took the lead of his group of three while the padawan scuttled about behind them.
"Come, civil Knights. Tonight we taste scorn, it is not a lady I would like to keep waiting," His voice is charred, scuffed from a rough journey.
Thus is the lonely wanderer as he makes his first step to a world unexplored, a bright star on the edge of a gloomy dusk. These steps were garnered in blood, his face stark with the travesty of the land. It was not the reality he chose to accept, it was a reality that was forced upon him without consent or logic. This was a pained reality, its face cracked and scarred from the past betrayal it had felt.
Once this land, its people had been part of the Republic in truth, it has felt the wealth of its nation and partook in the festivities of its people. The mood of the planet had changed dramatically since then. Now, the tenor was a melancholy. It was a pang of horror, one that was brushed off and forgotten. Tonight, a man of the Jedi would attempt to respond to a distress call they had sent out specifically to his council. There were riots, people angry at the current situation that they would no longer face. Their was anger. Blood had been spilled on its soil. It was a shame it took so drastic measures to garner the attention of their government, but that is the price of this blood thirsty galaxy they'd been born to.
"Master Jedi," A tired voice says to him, his eyes lock onto a man. He wears the uniform of a Republic ambassador, "We have been waiting for you."
A smile unfolds over his feline face, the sharp points of his incisors gleamed in the moonlight. There was a pause as he took a bow to the man, one of his hands on the lightsaff that he kept at his side. There was a moment of suspension as they stood there, looking at each other and waiting for a moment wherein the other would relent.
"As I have been looking forward to this meeting, now it is time. Lead us to the unrest," The weary traveler tells the ambassador.
"Aren't you weary from your travels, though?" The other man exclaims, "You look as though you could use some time to rest!"
"Sir, do you know who I am?"
"A...a..Jedi."
"I am Mordin Al'Vere, Battlemaster of the Jedi Order. I am here not to sleep, but to save your people, sir. I have little time to waste, so it would be best to get to the scene of this travesty."
With a breathless blink of his eyes, the ambassador turned on his heels to lead the way through this barren city.
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last online Jan 14, 2020 17:37:19 GMT -5
Master
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Nov 24, 2012 3:05:18 GMT -5
Post by Jace on Nov 24, 2012 3:05:18 GMT -5
Tevash had been growing increasingly irritated throughout his journey. The worst part was that he knew he should not have been. He was a Jedi. Yet the 6'5 Togorian did not enjoy confined spaces of any kind and just generally loathed space travel. He much preferred to be on solid ground, it really didn't matter which planet. His race was not meant to sit in a floating space of metal as the stars flew past him. Tevash scolded himself once again for having another thought that was unbecoming for a Jedi. The young Togorian had been told multiple times that his thoughts tread dangerously close to a path that was not acceptable for a Jedi. He had to remove such thoughts from his mind if he were to become part of the Order.
He would become a Jedi.
His pride had resulted in the loss of his former master. The shame of his inadequacy still haunted him every day. Tevash's instructors had urged him to let go but he could not do so, not yet. How could they expect him to forget such a thing and so soon? It was completely unreasonable in the young padawan's mind yet there was nothing else he could but try. The Togorian was determined to become a full-fledged Jedi no matter what the cost. There was no home to return to and he wouldn't want to return even if he could. The path before him was clear.
The Togorian heard the announcement that they were landing and growled in some vague sense of acknowledgement. In truth he was glad to be away from the Temple and all the other Padawans. He had friends back in Coruscant but their pity made him feel sick. Tevash needed to be away from it all and focus on his goal of becoming a Jedi Knight. Of course the Togorian was not exactly excited at his current destination. Montitia was not exactly a desirable location by any stretch of the imagination. A farmer's world that had descended into destitution. The Togorian yearned for a real mission, one that brought him to frontlines against the Sith Empire.
War. It called to him. There was something primal, deep within Tevash that turned his mind towards the Outer Rim. The Padawan knew he should be there fighting alongside the Republic against the evil Sith. Tevash was only a Padawan though and could do no such thing. He knew of the Blades but even they did not accept unaccompanied apprentices. The Togorian thought of the glory to be had on the battlefield. One day his dream to fight alongside his fellow Jedi against a greater evil would be fulfilled. Unfortunately whatever desires he possessed disappeared as the ship landed.
A flex of his powerful muscles was all he needed to rise from his seat. He strode with predatory grace to the exit ramp of the shuttle despite his unease of being on a ship. Tevash found Master Al'Vere already there along with the other Jedi Knight that had accompanied them. The Battlemaster of the Jedi Order was something of a mystery to the Togorian but then again most Jedi Masters were. He was an Aquitan, a race that Tevash had never heard of until he had met the man. The man did not look it but he was one of the deadliest fighters that the Jedi Order had to offer. Master Al'Vere's martial prowess was near unmatched and that automatically made him a person to be respected in the young Togorian's eyes.
Did this mission warrant such a man? wondered Tevash to himself. The Togorian knew little about their mission other than the fact that there was some unrest. He wondered why the High Council would send their greatest fighter to some backward planet. Tevash could only trust in his master's judgement and assume there was something greater at work here.
Azure eyes keenly watched the exchange between Master Al'Vere and the Republic ambassador. Apparently his master was not one of niceties and simply wished to deal with the task at hand, which suited Tevash just fine. The Padawan had no taste for politics and subtle games. He was a fighter and his place was on the battlefield with a lightsaber in his hand. Of course all he had for the moment was an upgraded training saber but that would have to do for the time being. The Togorian's body was a far more dangerous weapon. He cringed despite himself and hoped that his master had not noted the predatory gleam in his eyes. Exchange over, Tevash gave the Republic ambassador a flat look before following his master.
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Silas
Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken
742 posts
10 likes
Lord of the Morning, I have come for you!
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last online Jun 24, 2023 23:32:54 GMT -5
Guardian
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Nov 25, 2012 3:13:20 GMT -5
Post by Silas on Nov 25, 2012 3:13:20 GMT -5
The chill of the night brought with it desolation as they hurried through empty halls of a building that was designed to house a government. The strangely built facility had no windows to speak of, it was tall and slender with few rooms on each floor at the bottom. It bloomed outward, to house a large circular platform with a level on top that was the actual chamber room for their oligarchy, which was the only way this misfit collection of vagabonds could be considered. Mordin had pity on this planet and its fate but there was a disturbance that he'd felt since his eyes had fell upon the ambassador, a certain pulse that throbbed in his words and on these's peoples brow. The first three Padawan that had made it to follow him and Knight Krillin had accompanied him into their hastily filled chambers. All of them had sleep in their eyes still, obviously waking from a recent slumber that he had no time to for at the current moment. The framework for this mission needed to be resolved quickly, and efficiently so he could pass it off into someone else's hands. At the present, there were even more pressing matters in this galaxy, even more pressing than the cries of a dying world.
"We humbly apologize for our current condition, Master Al'vere, we did not expect your arrival to be so soon prompt," One of the seven men drawled in a thick, slow accent that seemed a little pompous in its own right.
The three Padawan were a Nautolan named Aro Falan, a most quiet figure that stood towards the back, a Codru-Ji that seemed more interested in a young woman among the group of people than the mission, and a Togorian seemed more intimidating than most of the rest of them combined. Of course, if looks were to be believed, than Mordin himself might be the weakest of them all, which simply was not true. Sure, Krillin might be stronger in the force, but the saber was the Aquitan's true display of grace.
"No need for apology, Council," Mordin said very brusquely as he scanned over the different members of this rag-tag government with a blank look, "It is regretful that I had to wake you all at this time of the night, but I am afraid my business is one that can not wait until a convenient time."
"We gathered that," The woman clipped very sarcastically, her hands crossed and her pale-green eyes rolled as she said it.
Mordin's gaze snapped at her, staring there for a moment as she shirked back from his inspection, "Unsolicited comments from this point will only slow us down, I have been informed of the situation."
He took a second to breath, stepping forward as his staff clearly clicked on the tile of the floor. The lightsaber that swung on his side was more of a decoy, an enemy would center on that, even as he was cut down by the blade at the end of his staff. It also allowed him to adapt to different situations, if the need called for it. However, these men should know enough about him by now to understand the significance of the blade in his hand right now. The long tail flickered as he walked along, just as his eyes continued to scan over them, trying not to focus on one for too long.
"Now, Overseer Wilkonsen," He began, as the man cringed a bit, "What I do not know about the situation is what you're doing to save it yourself."
That was a blatant lie, the truth was that the government had become more than just complacent, it had no desire to help the world at all. It simply sat by, waiting for it to die as it sucked the last resources from it, which is why when prompted the man turned a terrible colour of white that made him look as a ghost. There was a moment when his mouth opened, then it closed and he looked a little ashamed for a moment before gaining an ounce of confidence once again.
"Why! We have no the resources, Master Jedi. We have been trying to receive help from the Republic for years," He pleaded, the tone in his voice trying to feign empathy.
"Oh, that's strange. I checked the record, and it seems that there had been one request for aid from Montitia, and that was the one we took response too," Mordin pushed back, his eyes locked on the other mans.
"Why, I..." the man was turning purple. "Know Jedi, I am not one to play with."
His tone was abrupt, as if the mood had completely changed as a dark force gathered around him, a darkness Mordin had not completely expected. It was not simply around him, it was apart of him and that sent a shiver up his spine.
"I am not playing with you, I am helping you. You don't want to do this," Mordin responds.
A rustle of whisper alights among them, they looked startled as the Overseer responds, "How.. did you? Nonetheless, it is too late for regrets."
The sound of the blaster was almost in time with the hum of the staff as it light to life and bashed the bolt back at its owner. Mordin understood, the call was not of distress, but of war.
"Hurry! Check get to the other Padawan, we must check on them," Mordin yelled as he looked around, the light from his staff reflecting off his face. These people would grieve the day the chose to betray the Order, but the planet would hopefully change for the better. Balance must be made, one way or another.
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last online Jan 14, 2020 17:37:19 GMT -5
Master
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Nov 27, 2012 15:49:18 GMT -5
Post by Jace on Nov 27, 2012 15:49:18 GMT -5
Tevash more or less stalked behind the other two Padawans as the group of Jedi proceeded into government building. He stood well over the Nautolan and Codru-Ji as well as most of the others present. The three apprentices had remained quiet since they had landed on Montitia. He had found them likeable enough though the Nautolan kept mostly to himself which suited Tevash just fine. The Togorian got the sneaking suspicion that the Codru-Ji was likely to get himself in trouble with the masters before too long. Tevash got the feeling that the Togorian had come to the Jedi Temple for a reason different than most. He could not really blame the other Padawan but at the same time it disgusted the Togorian. The Republic was at war and so were many Jedi; frivolity should be left for times of peace.
He watched with little interest as Master Al'Vere continued his conversation with the politicians. There were now a number of other officials and relevant personnel in the room they had just entered. Tevash surveyed them with azure feline eyes but could not spot any obvious sign of malcontent. Most looked displeased at the arrival of the Jedi and a select few looked relieved. The Togorian could sense a vague tension in the air which was compounded by the Aquitan's quick response to the female official's chide. A small grin tugged at the side of Tevash's face. There were Jedi that would simply have ignored the comment and proceeded as if nothing had been said. Clearly Master Al'Vere was not such a person and Tevash's respect for the man continued to grow.
Eventually the Togorian turned his attention towards the conversation at hand. He began to notice that it had taken a sour and noticeably darker turn. Tevash could not place it properly but he was struck with a growing sense of foreboding. The Togorian had complete confidence in his martial abilities but his understanding of the Force was rather limited. Still, something tugged at him and his whole body began to tense up. Powerful muscles coiled, ready to send the Togorian springing towards his foe. His arms remained where they were but his training saber remained within reaching distance.
It happened faster than the Togorian could have predicted. He barely even saw the Jedi Master bring his staff up to deflect the shot. The chamber had suddenly erupted into frenzied chaos. Master Al'Vere shouted and just like that the Togorian had his orders.
His training saber snapped to life and bathed the Togorian's white fur in emerald hues. He spun around a full to head back towards the entrance of the chamber. The three Padawan in the chamber were not the only ones who had come to Montitia. A number of them remained outside in an ancillary chamber down the hallway. They did not have a the Jedi Battlemaster to protect them and were most likely only armed with the same training saber that Tevash currently had. The Togorian was competitive by nature but those Padawan were his peers and fellow prospective Jedi. An attack on them was tantamount to an attack on himself.
The Togorian charged forward, lightsaber gripped by both hands, towards the doorway. His first foe stood directly in his path only five feet away. He watched as the man raised a blaster and leveled it towards Tevash. The Padawan raised his saber int time to deflect the bolt off to the side. Unfortunately training sabers were not as reliable as true lightsabers nor was Tevash's skill in deflecting blaster bolts entirely perfect. Regardless, the Togorian continued to charge forward and his powerful legs quickly closed the gap. He did not even both to use his saber but simply lowered his thick shoulder and rammed right into the man. There are not many people that could withstand the force of a two-hundred pound feline crashing into them.
Inertia working as intended, the Togorian barreled into the next unsuspecting enemy would had been focused on trying to shoot Master Al'Vere in the back. Tevash had now reached the doorway and his exceptional hearing picked up the sounds of blaster fire down the hallway. A sense of urgency welled up inside the Togorian and luckily replaced any anger that would have followed. Jedi were not invincible and it did not take a Sith to kill them. If Tevash had learned anything, even a Jedi Master could find themselves dead in an instant. It would seem that Tevash did not have to go the Outer Rim; the battlefield had come to him.
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