Post by Vex on Dec 25, 2007 13:01:30 GMT -5
Name: Theron "Rrenl'ykaio'sennoc" Lykaios
Race: Chiss
Age: 28 standard years
Sex: Male
Height: 1.93 meters
Weight: 92 kilograms
Appearance: Tall and athletic with shoulder-length black hair and a deep azure skin tone. His eyes are a deep, scintillating blood red and the first thing that is noticed about him. Unlike many of his kind, he wears a band of black tattooed across his eyes, making them stand out even more. He received it as a child while in the “care” of the pirates that slew his family. He kept it so that he might be reminded of evil he hunts. The tattoo runs from temple to temple, disappearing into his hair. He prefers to wear robes of a charcoal hue, off-set with a pale-white shirt beneath.
Birth place: Csilla
Faction: Jedi
Rank: Knight Sentinel - Shadow
Bio: Lykaios, given name Rrenl'ykaio'sennoc, was born into the Rren family, a moderately influential Chiss family that mostly concerned itself with intergalactic business and commodities. During a trip to assess a possible new shipping enterprise into the core systems, their ship was assault by pirates. The crew and most of the family were quickly slaughtered, save for the women pleasant enough to be sold off for a future in slavery. When it came time to finish off the young Lykaios, the captain chose to withhold the shot and took the child as his own. Seven years passed and the child was raised as their own, taught all the finer points of “free trade and aggressive profiteering” and renamed Theron Lykaios. By the time he was eleven, he had been helping to raid ships for over a year and had even been tattooed as a mark of his acceptance into his new “family”. Recognizing the advantage of his apparent innocence, a common tactic had been to get him on a ship as a lost orphan, plying to the crew's sentimentality. Once onboard, Theron would disable the ship's systems, defenses, and comms to allow his pirate "family" to waltz on in.
These attacks had become enough of a severity to warrant a Jedi to investigate. He happened to be on one of the ships targeted by the pirates and caught the child just as he had been about to disable the systems. He stopped him, but the pirates attacked anyway. Given forewarning and assistance by the Jedi, the crew mounted a successful defense and defeated the pirates, who were killed to the man. The Jedi, Shenjin Dao, first learned of Lykaios' sensitivity to the Force when, in grief over the loss of his "family", he struck out with a wave that launched a shipping crate into several of the crew, sending them into disarray and crushing the legs of one.
Shenjin worked with the Chiss child while he took him back to the Council...trying to get him to understand that the people that he had been with were not his family and not good people. He sensed a well of rage in the child that needed to be capped before he further used his power in a way that would bring him toward the Dark Side.
Lykaios was reluctantly admitted to the Academy, despite his age, where Shenjin personally oversaw his training. Eventually he learned what had happened to his true family and made to understand the evils that the pirates had caused. He vowed then to work against allowing another to be tricked and used by agents of darkness again.
He threw himself into his studies, focusing on combat. Shenjin Dao was still worried about the young Padawan, who showed great power in Force, but retained that rage. Lykaios, however, saw it as a righteous rage, a tool to be used in defense of the weak. His memories of the pirate defeat, where they had been cut down to the man, shaped his view of justice. Even though it had been unintentional, it made him believe that Evil, that the Dark Side, had to be fought without mercy or quarter.
Their inability to see eye to eye eventually split up Shenjin Dao (now a Jedi Master) and Lykaios. Lykaios pursued his views of justice, seeking to become a Shadow and play a more active role in the removal of Evil in the Galaxy. When Shenjin Dao was killed after the discovery of a Sith Cult, the Chiss, now a Knight grieved and sought vengeance, using his skills and dogged determination to hunt them down and kill them to the man. This cemented his belief that those who used the Dark Side must be destroyed through whatever means were necessary.
This puts him at odds with many members of the Order who can recognize his great potential but see the dangerous line he is walking. Theron, however, merely sees their caution as a weakness and failing to do what is necessary for the greater good and an attempt to limit his potential.
Lightsaber: Double-edged and dual
*Note: The hilt of Theron’s lightsaber contains two power sources and can be disconnected into two separate hilts. Theron prefers to fight in the dual-edged manner, using the acrobatics of Ataru to get him into a position of advantage where he can bear down with Shien/Djem So to overpower and dominate his foe. He believes an overwhelming offense is the key to an effective defense. In combat, if he is locked up with an opponent’s lightsaber, he will disconnect the unemployed half of his weapon and twist it, reigniting it so it goes through his opponent. Theron is also quick to use the Force to Push, Trip, and throw objects at his opponent in order to keep them off balance and on the defensive.
Color: Silver
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Shii-Cho - 5
Makashi - 3
Soresu - 0
Ataru - 3
Shien / Djem So - 3
>>Sub-form Backhanded
Niman - 1
>>Sub-form Jar-kai, or Dual Wield - 3
Juyo - 0
Double Bladed Combat - 4
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Telekinetic: 7
Telepathic: 3
Body: 7
Sense: 5
Protection: 5
Healing: 4
Destruction: 2
Specialized Skills:
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 8
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 7
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 7
Melee Weapons: 7
Ranged Weapons: 4
Force Attunement: 1
RP Sample: The hiss of energy was loud, punctuated by the sharp cracks of lightsabers crossing blades repeatedly. Theron twisted low, bending forward at the waist to dodge a swing, twirling his humming silver lightsaber behind him to ward off the attacks that would have otherwise sought to strike. His opponent reversed the swing, coming down and trying to take off the young Chiss' head, but he was already gone.
He had bent his knees when he had bowed, coming down into a crouch. Springing up as soon as the blade had passed him, he willed the Force to assist his sprint, launching him up and back, over the head of the two others that had been trying to harry him from behind in that narrow corridor between two of the billions of towering skyscrapers that dotted the Coruscant vista. Seeing his goal beneath him, he brought his feet around and beneath him, landing lightly and taking two steps to ease his momentum.
It had taken him several days to track down this Dark Jedi. There had been word that there was a strange cult starting up in one of the middle levels that acted as a buffer between the upper and lower parts of Coruscant. The fact that there were strange disappearances and rumors of lurkers with strange power had brought Theron out to investigate. Once he’d arrived, it had been a delicate game of cat and mouse as he’d slowly begun to pick out the piece of the puzzle amongst the detritus of this level of the city. Rumors were easy to find, but information he could use had been scattered and rare. He’d finally come across a clue when he was sitting back in a swag little bar, not quite high-class or hygienic enough, but good enough to attract the self-important up and comers of the area. He was supposed to meet another “solid source” and part with some credits for some news when he’d spied an altercation near the door. It was none other than his would-be informer, a sly little Rodian whose fingers seemed even stickier than most. He was arguing with a young Zabrak, whom he’d apparently bumped into.
The Zabrak had lifted up his hand as though to push the insectile informant away, but the Rodian was thrust into the wall a few heartbeats before that hand could touch him. The sound of his head hitting the duraplast wall could be heard even from where Theron was sitting, causing him to wince. The informant slumped down to the ground and fell over onto his side, obviously out cold. At least, one might hope he was simply unconscious. The Zabrak, seeming pleased with himself, stepped around and continued outside.
Theron moved quickly, drawing the bulky jacket he was wearing over his normal robes closer as he shouldered his way to the door. Pausing for a moment, he let those crimson eyes look down upon the Rodian as he toed him with his boot. A low groan was heard, but there was no other conscious sign of acknowledgement. Satisfied that he was still alive, the Jedi drew out a small pouch of credits, tossing them to the ground next to the man. If luck decided to help him out a bit more…they might still be there when he awoke. Cracking a ghost of a crooked smile, Theron shook his head. “I guess you’ve earned your pay this day.” He then followed suit out the door.
It was fortunate that the Zabrak didn’t seem all that worried about attracting attention. He walked as though he owned this level…bullying people out of his way. It made it easy to follow in his wake. Theron itched to take him out now…but he knew that the fool would lead him to where his friends were. Patience….just a little patience and it will be far more rewarding, he cautioned himself.
The two that had been at his back were young, inexperienced. They were obviously apprentices to the man that had been pressing the attack. Their fighting showed no coordination or grace. One...the same thin and angry Zabrak male that he had followed, seemed outraged that this one Jedi had managed to fend them off for so long. Yelling out a cry of rage, he launched himself after Theron and brought his blade up over his head, planning to slice his opponent in two.
"Fool." Theron heard the cries of the other two, trying to get their compatriot to stop, but he was already committed. Reaching out with his hand, Theron clenched his fist and pulled back sharply. He saw those yellow eyes go wide as the Zabrak flashed past him, the Force used to speed up his momentum and send him sailing past...out into the end of the alley and into an unknown number of empty stories between him and the ground below. His cry of fear tapered off and was lost long before he finally stopped falling far below.
The look on the male’s face had been quite similar to what Theron had seen when he’d walked into the room the cultists had made into their home. A single slash with his lightsaber had destroyed the maglock and he’d gone for shock and awe by kicking open the door as he stepped through. There were six of them, all in all. The walls had a few Sith sigils painted on them, crudely done. These were pretenders…he realized quickly. They’d found something, some writings, maybe even a holocron in the worst case scenario. Two of them barely seemed to be adults.
The Zabrak couldn’t move, tangled up as he had been in the arms of a female human. She’d gotten up quickly, however, reaching to the table for the small cylinder there. It wasn’t hard to figure it out and he lashed out with his hand just as she picked it up.
There wash the sound of energy thrumming to life, but he lost sight of her as he used the Force to flip that table up and slam into her. Her cry of pain was shortlived, however and replaced by the smell of burnt meat. The force of the table had jarred her hand as she activated the saber, causing her to stab it through her own chest.
A cry of rage came from his left and he thumbed one blade actuator, bringing that silver beam to life. Sidestepping as he dipped the blade, he scooped it up and brought both over their heads, letting the man’s own moment slam him into the knee the Chiss Jedi swung up. All the wind was knocked out of him in an instant and his feet shot out from under him, slamming him hard on his back. Theron kept his grip on the handle straight and the weapon vertical as he plunged his lightsaber down, hitting the second actuator and causing the other blade to flare to life, cutting a neat hole through his heart.
The rest of the would-be Sith began to run for an exit in the back
The other apprentice, a human female, cried out in shock and disbelief. She seemed almost ready to attack as her friend had...but the Master clutched her shoulder, keeping her from her course and pulling her back with him as he made to run. Their red blades shut off as they took to prudence over courage.
"Cowards..." He spoke again, looking up and seeing a large beam of steel overhead, connecting the two buildings. Splitting his weapon's haft in the middle, he ignited the now two separate blades. Sharp throws sent them twirling, end over end, splitting the beam at either side and sending it falling toward the ground. A grit of his teeth and that vehement rage spiked at the thought of them slipping away sent that beam twirling towards them.
He’d met the “Master” during his pursuit of the rest. Calling upon the Force again, he’d sprinted forward, seeking to take down a slower human who had fallen back from the rest. They’d just come out into the great, open air alleys that were common between the buildings of Coruscant at this level. His blade came down sharply…and was blocked.
Crimson sparked against silver and Theron looked over, seeing a middle-aged Devaronian holding the blade. “So you are the one leading this cult.” He keyed the secondary blade on his lightsaber again, but the man managed to pull away with a narrow miss. Distantly, he heard the sound of footsteps slowing down.
“Leave my Children alone, Ragnos protects them.” The man hissed, bringing his blade up to launch an attack against the Jedi. Theron smiled…it was always so much better when there was a challenge.
“And let them grow to threaten the Order and the Republic? I think not. Your plague will be wiped out before it can cause anymore infection.” He punctuated the words with a staccato of quick strikes. Sweep, thrust, duck…Theron took too steps forward as he put his back to his opponent, getting out of his strike distance before turning back around. “You have no chance. Surrender now and I shall make it quick. It’s more than your kind deserves.” He held his hands behind his back, keeping the hilt horizontal and snapping the blades apart. When the Devaronian launched his attack again with renewed vigor, Theron brought up one blade, catching the Dark Jedi’s and turning it to the side, bringing himself around to stab that second one up into his opponent. At least…that was the intent.
He’d forgotten about the human he’d been pursuing. That one had seen what the Jedi was planning and had run up, trying to disrupt him. He inadvertently ran straight into that relentless silver blade. Both Theron and the Devaronian looked to the young man in shock. He tried to say something…but collapsed. His offense thwarted, Theron disengaged and snapped the two halves back together.
The Devaronian came at him with the aid of the Dark Side infusing his movements. Battle was rejoined ferociously…and this time, Theron was put on his heels. As he fought off the fury of the man before him…he heard the sounds of boots coming closer.
The Dark Jedi mentor looked back and saw that whirling death coming towards them...desperately he went to push his pupil out of the way before it hit. She cried out in agony, however, as the end still managed to clip her legs, shattering one, and throw her into the wall where she slumped down. The man took the brunt, however, his body busted even before the beam slammed him to the ground and sent both skidding across the permacrete, leaving a red streak several meters long.
Theron walked towards the girl slowly...drawing his lightsabers back to him as he went. A twist of his wrists and the ends locked together once more. He twirled the unignited weapon as he drew closer. At least one leg was shattered and useless and it seems her impact with the wall had dislocated her shoulder. Surprisingly, she was still alive. Hazel eyes looked up to him in a haze of pain and fear. "Who are you?" She asked.
"Theron Lykaios.”
She furrowed her brows...coughing out her next word. "Why."
"Because you follow the ways of the Dark Side. You are a threat to the Light and to the Republic." He thumbed the actuator on the handle, bringing one brilliant silver blade to life.
She looked pleadingly into his eyes, holding up her one good arm in a futile manner. She saw the remorseless conviction there, but still she shook her head slowly. "No...Please..."
"If our roles were reversed, you would give me no better." He swung down, stopping only when his strike was slowed because it had bit deep into the permacrete.
Race: Chiss
Age: 28 standard years
Sex: Male
Height: 1.93 meters
Weight: 92 kilograms
Appearance: Tall and athletic with shoulder-length black hair and a deep azure skin tone. His eyes are a deep, scintillating blood red and the first thing that is noticed about him. Unlike many of his kind, he wears a band of black tattooed across his eyes, making them stand out even more. He received it as a child while in the “care” of the pirates that slew his family. He kept it so that he might be reminded of evil he hunts. The tattoo runs from temple to temple, disappearing into his hair. He prefers to wear robes of a charcoal hue, off-set with a pale-white shirt beneath.
Birth place: Csilla
Faction: Jedi
Rank: Knight Sentinel - Shadow
Bio: Lykaios, given name Rrenl'ykaio'sennoc, was born into the Rren family, a moderately influential Chiss family that mostly concerned itself with intergalactic business and commodities. During a trip to assess a possible new shipping enterprise into the core systems, their ship was assault by pirates. The crew and most of the family were quickly slaughtered, save for the women pleasant enough to be sold off for a future in slavery. When it came time to finish off the young Lykaios, the captain chose to withhold the shot and took the child as his own. Seven years passed and the child was raised as their own, taught all the finer points of “free trade and aggressive profiteering” and renamed Theron Lykaios. By the time he was eleven, he had been helping to raid ships for over a year and had even been tattooed as a mark of his acceptance into his new “family”. Recognizing the advantage of his apparent innocence, a common tactic had been to get him on a ship as a lost orphan, plying to the crew's sentimentality. Once onboard, Theron would disable the ship's systems, defenses, and comms to allow his pirate "family" to waltz on in.
These attacks had become enough of a severity to warrant a Jedi to investigate. He happened to be on one of the ships targeted by the pirates and caught the child just as he had been about to disable the systems. He stopped him, but the pirates attacked anyway. Given forewarning and assistance by the Jedi, the crew mounted a successful defense and defeated the pirates, who were killed to the man. The Jedi, Shenjin Dao, first learned of Lykaios' sensitivity to the Force when, in grief over the loss of his "family", he struck out with a wave that launched a shipping crate into several of the crew, sending them into disarray and crushing the legs of one.
Shenjin worked with the Chiss child while he took him back to the Council...trying to get him to understand that the people that he had been with were not his family and not good people. He sensed a well of rage in the child that needed to be capped before he further used his power in a way that would bring him toward the Dark Side.
Lykaios was reluctantly admitted to the Academy, despite his age, where Shenjin personally oversaw his training. Eventually he learned what had happened to his true family and made to understand the evils that the pirates had caused. He vowed then to work against allowing another to be tricked and used by agents of darkness again.
He threw himself into his studies, focusing on combat. Shenjin Dao was still worried about the young Padawan, who showed great power in Force, but retained that rage. Lykaios, however, saw it as a righteous rage, a tool to be used in defense of the weak. His memories of the pirate defeat, where they had been cut down to the man, shaped his view of justice. Even though it had been unintentional, it made him believe that Evil, that the Dark Side, had to be fought without mercy or quarter.
Their inability to see eye to eye eventually split up Shenjin Dao (now a Jedi Master) and Lykaios. Lykaios pursued his views of justice, seeking to become a Shadow and play a more active role in the removal of Evil in the Galaxy. When Shenjin Dao was killed after the discovery of a Sith Cult, the Chiss, now a Knight grieved and sought vengeance, using his skills and dogged determination to hunt them down and kill them to the man. This cemented his belief that those who used the Dark Side must be destroyed through whatever means were necessary.
This puts him at odds with many members of the Order who can recognize his great potential but see the dangerous line he is walking. Theron, however, merely sees their caution as a weakness and failing to do what is necessary for the greater good and an attempt to limit his potential.
Lightsaber: Double-edged and dual
*Note: The hilt of Theron’s lightsaber contains two power sources and can be disconnected into two separate hilts. Theron prefers to fight in the dual-edged manner, using the acrobatics of Ataru to get him into a position of advantage where he can bear down with Shien/Djem So to overpower and dominate his foe. He believes an overwhelming offense is the key to an effective defense. In combat, if he is locked up with an opponent’s lightsaber, he will disconnect the unemployed half of his weapon and twist it, reigniting it so it goes through his opponent. Theron is also quick to use the Force to Push, Trip, and throw objects at his opponent in order to keep them off balance and on the defensive.
Color: Silver
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Shii-Cho - 5
Makashi - 3
Soresu - 0
Ataru - 3
Shien / Djem So - 3
>>Sub-form Backhanded
Niman - 1
>>Sub-form Jar-kai, or Dual Wield - 3
Juyo - 0
Double Bladed Combat - 4
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Telekinetic: 7
Telepathic: 3
Body: 7
Sense: 5
Protection: 5
Healing: 4
Destruction: 2
Specialized Skills:
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 8
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 7
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 7
Melee Weapons: 7
Ranged Weapons: 4
Force Attunement: 1
RP Sample: The hiss of energy was loud, punctuated by the sharp cracks of lightsabers crossing blades repeatedly. Theron twisted low, bending forward at the waist to dodge a swing, twirling his humming silver lightsaber behind him to ward off the attacks that would have otherwise sought to strike. His opponent reversed the swing, coming down and trying to take off the young Chiss' head, but he was already gone.
He had bent his knees when he had bowed, coming down into a crouch. Springing up as soon as the blade had passed him, he willed the Force to assist his sprint, launching him up and back, over the head of the two others that had been trying to harry him from behind in that narrow corridor between two of the billions of towering skyscrapers that dotted the Coruscant vista. Seeing his goal beneath him, he brought his feet around and beneath him, landing lightly and taking two steps to ease his momentum.
It had taken him several days to track down this Dark Jedi. There had been word that there was a strange cult starting up in one of the middle levels that acted as a buffer between the upper and lower parts of Coruscant. The fact that there were strange disappearances and rumors of lurkers with strange power had brought Theron out to investigate. Once he’d arrived, it had been a delicate game of cat and mouse as he’d slowly begun to pick out the piece of the puzzle amongst the detritus of this level of the city. Rumors were easy to find, but information he could use had been scattered and rare. He’d finally come across a clue when he was sitting back in a swag little bar, not quite high-class or hygienic enough, but good enough to attract the self-important up and comers of the area. He was supposed to meet another “solid source” and part with some credits for some news when he’d spied an altercation near the door. It was none other than his would-be informer, a sly little Rodian whose fingers seemed even stickier than most. He was arguing with a young Zabrak, whom he’d apparently bumped into.
The Zabrak had lifted up his hand as though to push the insectile informant away, but the Rodian was thrust into the wall a few heartbeats before that hand could touch him. The sound of his head hitting the duraplast wall could be heard even from where Theron was sitting, causing him to wince. The informant slumped down to the ground and fell over onto his side, obviously out cold. At least, one might hope he was simply unconscious. The Zabrak, seeming pleased with himself, stepped around and continued outside.
Theron moved quickly, drawing the bulky jacket he was wearing over his normal robes closer as he shouldered his way to the door. Pausing for a moment, he let those crimson eyes look down upon the Rodian as he toed him with his boot. A low groan was heard, but there was no other conscious sign of acknowledgement. Satisfied that he was still alive, the Jedi drew out a small pouch of credits, tossing them to the ground next to the man. If luck decided to help him out a bit more…they might still be there when he awoke. Cracking a ghost of a crooked smile, Theron shook his head. “I guess you’ve earned your pay this day.” He then followed suit out the door.
It was fortunate that the Zabrak didn’t seem all that worried about attracting attention. He walked as though he owned this level…bullying people out of his way. It made it easy to follow in his wake. Theron itched to take him out now…but he knew that the fool would lead him to where his friends were. Patience….just a little patience and it will be far more rewarding, he cautioned himself.
The two that had been at his back were young, inexperienced. They were obviously apprentices to the man that had been pressing the attack. Their fighting showed no coordination or grace. One...the same thin and angry Zabrak male that he had followed, seemed outraged that this one Jedi had managed to fend them off for so long. Yelling out a cry of rage, he launched himself after Theron and brought his blade up over his head, planning to slice his opponent in two.
"Fool." Theron heard the cries of the other two, trying to get their compatriot to stop, but he was already committed. Reaching out with his hand, Theron clenched his fist and pulled back sharply. He saw those yellow eyes go wide as the Zabrak flashed past him, the Force used to speed up his momentum and send him sailing past...out into the end of the alley and into an unknown number of empty stories between him and the ground below. His cry of fear tapered off and was lost long before he finally stopped falling far below.
The look on the male’s face had been quite similar to what Theron had seen when he’d walked into the room the cultists had made into their home. A single slash with his lightsaber had destroyed the maglock and he’d gone for shock and awe by kicking open the door as he stepped through. There were six of them, all in all. The walls had a few Sith sigils painted on them, crudely done. These were pretenders…he realized quickly. They’d found something, some writings, maybe even a holocron in the worst case scenario. Two of them barely seemed to be adults.
The Zabrak couldn’t move, tangled up as he had been in the arms of a female human. She’d gotten up quickly, however, reaching to the table for the small cylinder there. It wasn’t hard to figure it out and he lashed out with his hand just as she picked it up.
There wash the sound of energy thrumming to life, but he lost sight of her as he used the Force to flip that table up and slam into her. Her cry of pain was shortlived, however and replaced by the smell of burnt meat. The force of the table had jarred her hand as she activated the saber, causing her to stab it through her own chest.
A cry of rage came from his left and he thumbed one blade actuator, bringing that silver beam to life. Sidestepping as he dipped the blade, he scooped it up and brought both over their heads, letting the man’s own moment slam him into the knee the Chiss Jedi swung up. All the wind was knocked out of him in an instant and his feet shot out from under him, slamming him hard on his back. Theron kept his grip on the handle straight and the weapon vertical as he plunged his lightsaber down, hitting the second actuator and causing the other blade to flare to life, cutting a neat hole through his heart.
The rest of the would-be Sith began to run for an exit in the back
The other apprentice, a human female, cried out in shock and disbelief. She seemed almost ready to attack as her friend had...but the Master clutched her shoulder, keeping her from her course and pulling her back with him as he made to run. Their red blades shut off as they took to prudence over courage.
"Cowards..." He spoke again, looking up and seeing a large beam of steel overhead, connecting the two buildings. Splitting his weapon's haft in the middle, he ignited the now two separate blades. Sharp throws sent them twirling, end over end, splitting the beam at either side and sending it falling toward the ground. A grit of his teeth and that vehement rage spiked at the thought of them slipping away sent that beam twirling towards them.
He’d met the “Master” during his pursuit of the rest. Calling upon the Force again, he’d sprinted forward, seeking to take down a slower human who had fallen back from the rest. They’d just come out into the great, open air alleys that were common between the buildings of Coruscant at this level. His blade came down sharply…and was blocked.
Crimson sparked against silver and Theron looked over, seeing a middle-aged Devaronian holding the blade. “So you are the one leading this cult.” He keyed the secondary blade on his lightsaber again, but the man managed to pull away with a narrow miss. Distantly, he heard the sound of footsteps slowing down.
“Leave my Children alone, Ragnos protects them.” The man hissed, bringing his blade up to launch an attack against the Jedi. Theron smiled…it was always so much better when there was a challenge.
“And let them grow to threaten the Order and the Republic? I think not. Your plague will be wiped out before it can cause anymore infection.” He punctuated the words with a staccato of quick strikes. Sweep, thrust, duck…Theron took too steps forward as he put his back to his opponent, getting out of his strike distance before turning back around. “You have no chance. Surrender now and I shall make it quick. It’s more than your kind deserves.” He held his hands behind his back, keeping the hilt horizontal and snapping the blades apart. When the Devaronian launched his attack again with renewed vigor, Theron brought up one blade, catching the Dark Jedi’s and turning it to the side, bringing himself around to stab that second one up into his opponent. At least…that was the intent.
He’d forgotten about the human he’d been pursuing. That one had seen what the Jedi was planning and had run up, trying to disrupt him. He inadvertently ran straight into that relentless silver blade. Both Theron and the Devaronian looked to the young man in shock. He tried to say something…but collapsed. His offense thwarted, Theron disengaged and snapped the two halves back together.
The Devaronian came at him with the aid of the Dark Side infusing his movements. Battle was rejoined ferociously…and this time, Theron was put on his heels. As he fought off the fury of the man before him…he heard the sounds of boots coming closer.
The Dark Jedi mentor looked back and saw that whirling death coming towards them...desperately he went to push his pupil out of the way before it hit. She cried out in agony, however, as the end still managed to clip her legs, shattering one, and throw her into the wall where she slumped down. The man took the brunt, however, his body busted even before the beam slammed him to the ground and sent both skidding across the permacrete, leaving a red streak several meters long.
Theron walked towards the girl slowly...drawing his lightsabers back to him as he went. A twist of his wrists and the ends locked together once more. He twirled the unignited weapon as he drew closer. At least one leg was shattered and useless and it seems her impact with the wall had dislocated her shoulder. Surprisingly, she was still alive. Hazel eyes looked up to him in a haze of pain and fear. "Who are you?" She asked.
"Theron Lykaios.”
She furrowed her brows...coughing out her next word. "Why."
"Because you follow the ways of the Dark Side. You are a threat to the Light and to the Republic." He thumbed the actuator on the handle, bringing one brilliant silver blade to life.
She looked pleadingly into his eyes, holding up her one good arm in a futile manner. She saw the remorseless conviction there, but still she shook her head slowly. "No...Please..."
"If our roles were reversed, you would give me no better." He swung down, stopping only when his strike was slowed because it had bit deep into the permacrete.
