Post by Karl the Unfettered on Feb 15, 2009 3:37:35 GMT -5
Name: Tuljima Gunslinger
Race: Human
Age: 24
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 150
Appearance:
Tuljima is a tall, gaunt young man with dark hair and dull, confused brown eyes. His skin is ruddy and tanned from all the time he spends outside, and his robes are never quite clean, or as neat as the standards would have it; a scar cuts across his left cheek, just below the eye, from a close shave with a vibroblade-wielding pirate droid. He has a very active metabolism, and can't quite ever get enough to eat; this is why he is so thin. Usually his face is contorted in annoyance, either because he's hungry or because he's been teased again about his eating habits. He is not very good looking, in other words, even on the best of days.
As mentioned above, his robes are usually somewhat stained, as he isn't a very neat eater. They do fit, however, now that he is no longer a Padawan and Knights have the luxury of tailored clothing. Physically, he is extremely fast, with astonishing reflexes and coordination; this doesn't quite extend to his mental faculties, however, as he has struggled mightily at the academic portions of Jedi instruction. He makes up for it, though, in physical endeavors and combat training. Since becoming a Knight he has calmed down, and isn't generally as irritable as before, comporting himself with more of the dignity that befits a Jedi. He still isn't very Jedi-like, however, and can fall back into his old ways easily, so he still gets sent on missions that require his particular blend of Jedi talent, thuggishness, and combat prowess.
Birthplace: Tatooine, Anchorhead
Faction: Jedi
Rank: Knight, Guardian
Bio:
Tuljima was born on Anchorhead, the son of a hunter and one of the local prostitutes. Naturally the girl didn't want him, and the hunter didn't really believe it was his son anyway, so he gave the baby to another young couple, who had tried to have a kid of their own but had failed. The husband, Shoulom Gunslinger, worked as security for the remaining Czerka presence, and his wife Tallie didn't do much at all. They did their best by the little boy, whom they named Tuljima after one of Tallie's grandfathers, but for some reason they just couldn't get through to the little infant; even at that age he was sullen and grumpy, always hungry and screaming for milk, then food.
So it was with no small relief that the inexperienced parents gave the child to some Jedi scouts that had come to the area looking for prospective youths. Tuljima had a degree of sensitivity to it, and the Jedi didn't have to do much persuading to get his foster parents to relinquish him.
At the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, Tuljima was treated much like any other youngling, with the same care and attention as all the others. Nevertheless, as he grew older he felt as if he deserved more, and couldn't adequately explain why this was. Part of it had to do with the hole in his stomach that never went away; he was always ravenous, could never get enough to eat. The others in his group teased him for it, for his appetite and his sloppy table manners; he lashed back out at them, then grew sullen and withdrawn over time. In lessons and diplomacy he struggled and could not learn; in physical training, in lightsaber instruction, he excelled, displaying an unusual dexterity and grace even for one so young.
As he grew into adolescence he started getting tall, and his physical grace was replaced by an odd, gangly sense of balance; he'd trip and fall over but somehow get back to his feet, and his reflexes were faster than ever (in no small part because of training; he was clever in his own way, and knew he had to improve on his agility whenever he could). He was taken as a Padawan when he was twelve, and from there went on to tour the galaxy with his master, an older Knight named Torvus, settling disputes and defeating bad guys. However, Tuljima had another odd quirk; outside the Temple, he would not carry a lightsaber, not even a practice one. He seemed to think that until he could make his own and endure the Jedi Trials he was unworthy of the awesome weapon, so instead he carried a blaster pistol and a vibrosword out on missions.
One such mission took them to the agricultural planet of Bakura; a band of petty raiders had taken a warehouse as their headquarters, and were raiding the surrounding countryside in pursuit of food and credits. Tuljima and his master went in to attempt to reason with the thugs, but they wouldn't be reasoned with; doors slammed shut and the lights went out, and the thugs, equipped with vision-enhancing visors, drew their blasters in preparation for gunning the two Jedi down. His master leaped away, lightsaber spinning into his hand; Tuljima, confused by the darkness, dove to the floor, yanking at the sword in his belt. He landed at the feet of one of the thugs, and in desperation used the Force to pull out his blaster and shoot the alien through the chest.
Panting and strangely exhilarated, Tuljima shot to his feet, finally managing to yank the sword out of its scabbard. Vaguely sensing another thug nearby he went towards him, sword at the ready; the thug noticed, and smirked as he drew his own blade. He was a skilled fighter, but Tuljima's natural reflexes served him well; the darkness wasn't confusing him anymore, and after about a minute of intense dueling the alien thug lay in a pool of his own blood at Tuljima's feet, disemboweled, and the Padawan's sword had taken another being's life for the first time. It was much more personal and harrowing than shooting someone, even from up close, and the lad was distraught.
Only when Torvus found him, still standing over the dead body, did he realize that he'd fought the duel one-handed, against all tradition, his blaster gripped tightly in his other hand. They reported to the authorities nearby of their success, and on the way back to Coruscant Tuljima asked his master why those men had insisted on fighting back, why he'd felt such a rush upon cutting his second thug down. His master explained that normally, violence was not the way of the Jedi, but when attacked by other intent on harming or killing them they had to respond in kind; a Jedi did no good if he was dead, after all. He counseled against such a rush of emotion, though, warning that such things were an easy path to the Dark Side.
Back in the Temple, Tuljima went to the Archives to try and learn about sensing his environment; the feeling of confusion and helplessness he'd felt in the warehouse, when the raiders had turned the lights off and attacked them, still lurked in the back of his mind, and he did not care to experience it again. He had never been gifted in study, but after some weeks of unusual focus on his part he managed to grasp the basics, and built upon them in some of the darker, unused sections of the Temple. His master, pleased but perplexed, congratulated him on having learned a new power.
Another mission later on took them to Naboo, to resolve a dispute between government officials and a local farmers' union. The farmers wanted to sell their crops at higher prices, but the officials held that the current economy wouldn't be able to uphold higher prices and insisted on imposing price controls. The farmers, many of whom were veterans of Republic service, were getting annoyed; both sides had appealed to the Council for resolution. Though it wasn't the sort of thing Tuljima would be good at, his master had decided it would be good for him anyway. On the way there he tried to make it as clear as possible to the young man that they couldn't allow the situation to dissolve into violence; he was only to draw his weapons if his own life was in direct harm. Sullenly, the gangly youth agreed, frustrated over the empty pit in his stomach.
They arrived, and found the two parties gathered in a meeting hall. The older Jedi sat down and invited them to discuss their grievances in a polite matter; Tuljima, bored with all the talk, wandered over and amused himself by cleaning out the buffet table. Behind him, the debate went on, voices rising and falling, a consensus always out of reach; suddenly one of the farmers stood up, shouting about socialism, and lunged at the nearest bureaucrat; Tuljima's master shouted and made to get up himself, but before he was out of his seat Tuljima himself was at the incensed farmer's side, his long arm wrapped around the man's neck and his blaster discreetly jammed into his back.
The farmer went pale as the Jedi-in-training hissed a warning into his ear, and sat back down once released, shaking slightly; the rest of the group, subdued, soon came to an agreement over the issue. The farmers would get a raise in prices, but not as high as they had first demanded. On the way out his master reprimanded Tuljima for resorting to threats so quickly, but allowed that the action had done much to break the deadlock in the dispute.
Back at the Temple again, Tuljima and his master debriefed concerning the outcome of the mission, and for a while the two of them rested in the Temple, training and meditating. During this time Tuljima refined the unusual stance he'd accidentally discovered during the mission to Bakura, that of wielding a sword and a blaster at once; obviously it was difficult to work out, and there were several who thought him foolish for fighting with something besides a lightsaber, but he didn't care. During this period he also worked on his Force techniques, especially the more physical ones that came more easily to him, like Speed and Jump, though he also worked on his telekinesis and his Sensing powers.
Some years later, when Tuljima was 21, rumor reached the ears of the Council, about a coalition of pirates operating in the Mid Rim, which the Navy were unable to locate. These pirates were primarily striking wealthy vessels, or freighters with a lot of cargo; unwilling to admit defeat the Navy requested aid from the Jedi, who made their own study of recordings and events before deciding anything. What they found disturbed them; the tactics of the pirates were disturbingly similar to those employed by Sith or Dark Jedi, and their intelligence regarding targets and victims pointed to at least one mole in shipping regulations bureaus. Curious about these events, they decided to send a Jedi to infiltrate the coalition and learn what he or she could; after some deliberation they sent Tuljima on this task, the young man being the least Jedi-like of the available Jedi, well capable of defending himself without a lightsaber, and having a generally high success rate on his tasks.
In preparation for the mission, his first major solo, Tuljima spent a month learning to pilot small freighters and similar light ships. Then he was sent on his way to the Mid Rim, flying a vessel loaded with forgeries of rare artwork; the cargo manifest and log information indicated a museum had purchased some examples from another, and this ship was transporting them. After two days of roving the general area the pirate attacks had been reported from, he was overtaken by a much larger vessel, a modified Taris Corvette-class ship named Blood Talon. His own ship could not outrace the tractor beams aimed at him, nor would its shields stand up to the turbolaser batteries if he did somehow manage to get away, but he didn't want to get away; everything was going according to plan.
His ship was hauled in and docking tubes extended; a preliminary boarding party rushed in, bristling with armor and weaponry, high-powered carbines raised and trigger fingers itching. They were surprised to find one man aboard the vessel; two of them roughly grabbed the man and took him as a prisoner, while the others set about removing all the goods and securing the vessel for transport. Dynamic-class freighters were somewhat rare, after all, and easily modified to quasi-military specs; it was as good a catch as the cargo it had been carrying.
Tuljima, feigning fear, was disarmed and taken before the captain of the vessel, a scarred human male dressed in leather uniform; metal glinted from the man's temples, a sign of implants and cybernetics. He demanded to know why a vessel full of rare art was piloted by only one man; Tuljima replied that he didn't know, but he did know the winning side when he met it. He introduced himself as Jerme, a small-time pilot handy with swords and guns who was always open to a deal.
The captain laughed and ordered him thrown to the brig, along with a canteen of water; an hour later the guards let him out and escorted him back to the bridge, where an entirely different person waited for him. A woman, pale-skinned but beautiful, looked at him with appraising eyes and told him he had the Force; "Jerme" replied that he had no idea what she meant and if they were going to keep him locked up all the time he wasn't so sure this was the winning side anymore. That made the woman laugh, and she explained herself more fully.
Her name, she said, was Shaylas, and she had once been a Jedi, training to be a Sentinel. But she had failed the final test, and cast herself out; it had been the best thing to ever happen to her, she exclaimed. The galaxy beyond the Jedi was so much more colorful and diverse, so much beyond the Jedi Code to be learned about the Force. She looked him in the eye and offered to take him as her apprentice, so that he too could see the galaxy as she and the misguided fools at Coruscant did.
It would not be fair to say Tuljima wasn't tempted, because he was; for all his simple-mindedness, for all his dim loyalty, he had had his moments of doubt about the Jedi and their view. He recalled those from his past who has teased him, for his speech or his manners or his appetite, and remembered that they too had been students of the Jedi. He recalled his own frustration at the pace forced upon his learning, the insistence that he be well-rounded in what he did; he thought of the infrequent longing, so rare yet so powerful, for knowledge that the Jedi would not impart.
In the next second he shook his head; such thoughts were of the Dark Side, and he was only a year or so from being of age to undertake the Trials. What did this woman, this failed and fallen would-be Knight, have to offer him? He looked back up at her and declined her offer of personal training, but he still didn't know what she meant and all he really wanted was to either be let go or be allowed to find out what the winning side was all about.
In the end she allowed him to stay on, but he would be watched; the life of a pirate was not an easy one, she warned, and one had to be ruthless and unmerciful. "Jerme" said he could do that, and she signaled the guards to give him his affects back. After that he was a member of the pirate gang for about six months, during which he poked around and asked what he thought were innocent questions. What he learned would have shocked someone else, but to him it only made sense.
Shaylas was receiving backup and support from the Sith Empire, not to mention funding and training for the men she commanded. In turn she sent along the goods and ships stolen, which were then resold or assimilated into their own fleets. It was quite a tidy operation; Shaylas was a deniable source of income, and a handy training ground for Imperial marines as well as a testing range for experimental training methods. Tuljima recorded everything he'd learned to a secure datapad, ironically provided by the pirates themselves, and stowed away where no one else would find it. Then he went to confront Shaylas, aware that doing so would blow his cover; that didn't matter anymore, now that his mission was successful.
Before he did that, though, he made sure a ship was nearby he could escape on, one that he could pilot. There was, and with a last check of his sword and his blaster he went to face off with the fallen Jedi. She was in her quarters, naturally, at the highest level of the abandoned mining colony the pirates had taken over as a base; two droids lurked about the room, as well, armed with wrist-mounted vibroblades and blasters. He made his accusations; she laughed in his face and ordered the droids to attack him. The machines sprang up, blades sliding out and blasters humming to life in an instant, but Tuljima was faster even than them; calling on the Force to bolster his speed he whipped out his own sword and blaster, lunging forward and skewering the nearest droid through its head, spinning around and yanking the droid along so that it would block the shots from the other droid, allowing him to shoot back at it. A spark of pain came from his cheek and blood spattered lightly out, though; he hadn't been fast enough to entirely avoid the machine's blade.
Shaylas screamed in recognition and fear, knowing now that "Jerme" had been a Jedi all along. With a cry she shoved the droids out of the way, whipping out a red-bladed lightsaber she had constructed to replace the one surrendered years ago, and lunging at Tuljima with an overhead slash. She was fast, but Tuljima was faster, and he was in control of his emotions whereas Shaylas was enraged and slashing blindly, screaming out her betrayal. Tuljima kept his head and deflected every blow; in her fury she had forgotten any advanced techniques and reverted back to Shii-cho basics, which themselves were developed directly from swordfighting techniques.
He waited until she was vulnerable, then ducked and twisted to the side and behind, bringing the blaster up and shooting her in the back of the knee; she cried out in pain and collapsed, and Tuljima darted in, bashing the back of her head with the pommel of his sword, knocking her unconscious. He sheathed his sword and holstered the blaster, picking up the unconscious pirate leader and slinging her over his shoulder; then, pausing only to pocket the fallen one's lightsaber, he called on the Force yet again and dashed for the ship before anyone could figure out what was going on. Fortunately for him the ship was equipped with a Force cage, so he stuffed her into it and went about getting out of there.
After a long ride back, Coruscant appeared in the viewport, and he sent a docking request to the Temple landing pads. Permission was swiftly sent back, and he brought the pirate vessel down for a shaky landing; it hadn't quite been what he'd trained on, and anyway it was his first landing period. A guard of experienced Knights were on hand to take Shaylas into custody. The young man was exhausted, both physically and emotionally; infiltrating the bloodthirsty pirate group had been a harrowing ordeal, and he was glad to finally drop his cover. He gave the datapad containing his findings to one of the Knights, then went to get some much-needed rest and meditation.
When he felt rested and ready again, he went to meet with the Council and tell them of the mission in his own words. They were quite proud of him; it had been a risky mission, and a few had privately doubted he would come back alive, much less with a fallen Jedi in tow. The reports he'd brought back were alarming, and others were already acting on the information within.
They had bad news, however; in Tuljima's absence, his master had succumbed to old age, passing away peacefully in his sleep to become one with the Force. Despondent over the loss, Tuljima declined the Council's offer of taking the Trials, still uncertain of his capability. He wanted to be fully prepared for the ordeal, and asked to be assigned to another master if such was possible.
About a week later he was taken on by a senior Knight, himself a former student of Torvus; the man's name was Bendon, and he was a Sentinel, one who saw the balance between combat and diplomacy, lightsabers and the Force. In Bendon's estimation the adventure with the pirates counted for the Trial of Courage, as Tuljima had displayed exceptional bravery and good use of the Force in combat; nevermind that he'd used a sword instead of a lightsaber, as that would have ruined his cover.
For the Trial of the Flesh, Bendon decided he and Tuljima would venture to Tatooine, the birthplace of the Jedi-in-Training; rumor had it that a Krayt dragon of unusual ferocity had taken up residence near one of the settlements and was savaging the surrounding area. If Tuljima could slay it, he would save the settlement and prove himself a great warrior. They travelled to the planet and touched down in Anchorhead, where they sought out an elderly hunter said to have killed Krayt dragons in the past. This man was Tuljima's true father, though neither man recognized the other and the meeting had no significance beyond two men seeking the advice of one more experienced.
The old hunter explained that the Krayts could not resist the scene of bantha; lure a few out to where your dragon was, and you could get the thing out in the open pretty quick. The downside was that you'd get the thing out pretty quick; you'd have to be well-prepared, either with a mine field laid out in advanced or a blazing quick trigger finger. Acting on the old man's advice, Tuljima and his master sought out some bantha fodder, being assured that there was a wild herd out near the dragon's lair.
Out they went, in a rented speeder, the pungent odor of the fodder filling their nostrils. It was distinctly unpleasant for Tuljima; he wasn't used to the heat and the dryness, and was thankful Bendon had brough plenty of water. They located a herd of bantha, and parked the speeder, hefting the smelly fodder and luring the animals on; like moths to a flame the docile creatures plodded slowly after them, unable to resist the scent.
The dragon's lair was closer than they'd anticipated, as they discovered when a hideous roar sounded from around a bend in the cliffs; charging around the bend came the largest creature either Jedi had ever seen, a massive Krayt dragon. There was no time to lay mines, no time to even think; Bendon dove to the side and prayed to the Force that they would survive, but Tuljima did his usual unexpected thing. He whipped his sword and blaster out and ran right back at the charging monster, using the Force to propel himself through the air and land on the thing's snout; swinging his blades at the thing's eyes to distact it, he aimed and fired several time into its nostrils, piercing the sinus cavity and killing it instantly. He then leaped away as it stumbled and skidded to a stop, throwing up clouds of sandy dust.
Once the clouds settled, Tuljima and his master beheld their prey. Bendon explained that as the conqueror, it was Tuljima's right to carve into the thing's belly and claim the pearl that resided in its gizzard, worth a great deal of money and usable as a crystal in lightsaber construction. Face twisting in disgust, Tuljima gritted his teeth and set about doing so, first breaking off several of the thing's teeth for further use in his lightsaber; he fancied being able to brag about having killed a Krayt dragon, after all.
It took hours, and Bendon had to go to the nearby settlement for more water, but eventually the guts were laid open. To their astonishment the beast had not one, but three of the precious gems in its gizzard; a rare trophy, indeed. Further search of the thing's lair revealed more treasures; a few odd bits of stuff, and a Durindfire gem.
The two Jedi went to the settlement bearing proof of their victory, and were well-thanked by the grateful populace. Then they returned to Anchorhead, where the old hunter congratulated them on their victory, and allowed that Tuljima was a true warrior himself now; Tuljima didn't know about that, though, he was exhausted and thirsty and wanted to get back to Coruscant. During the long voyage back home, Tuljima recuperated from the ordeal, and began studying how he would craft his own lightsaber at last.
He now had two trials left; the Trial of Skill, and the Trial of the Spirit. For the Trial of Skill, his master had a fairly straightforward task in mind; with his newly completed lightsaber in hand, run through a gamut of obstacles, ranging from turrets to droids armed with lightsabers. First, though, Tuljima had to create his weapon, which took seven months; the dragon pearls had to be exactlingly prepared, and he ruined two of them for use before he got the last one just right. The teeth of the beast had to be prepared as well, and it was a while before he could manage it without shattering the thing.
At last, though, he had his weapon, and per the ceremony his master stood by as Tuljima chanted the mantras and activated it for the first time. The blade burst forth, a beautiful silver rod of light with a pearl-like sheen; it was an unusual weapon in many respects, and the young man at last felt he could call himself a Jedi and not be a fraud.
Soon after that he undertook the Trial of Skill, facing off against an array of mechanical foes in one of the obstacle courses of the Jedi Temple. It was a grueling affair; the turrets, though set to non-lethal settings, still inflicted great pain, and the droids' combat algorithms were dialed up to a Knight's level of skill. Tuljima failed twice, in fact, unable to dodge enough shots and being overcome by pain and numbness, but on the third try he made it through to the end.
Now he only had one final test, that of the Spirit. News came from the dark world of Nivek of a peculiar stone construction, one that seemed to emanate a dark aura; recently discovered, it was driving those who explored it to madness, especially the indigenous, insectoid Shadowmen who resided nearby. The Council suspected that this building could be a tomb of a Dark Jedi warlord, and determined to send someone to investigate and, if possible, cleanse the place of its taint. Bendon and Tuljima were selected to do so.
The two of them flew to the dark planet, and landed near the tomb; immediately they were attacked by vicious insectoid assailants, and their lightsabers flashed out in the gloom. Once the attack was repelled they approached the tomb, and Bendon stopped. He told his student that the Trial of the Spirit had to be undertaken alone; he could not accompany Tuljima into the tomb itself. Undaunted, the Jedi-in-training raised his saber, checked that his sword and blaster were in place, and strode boldly into the black maw of the edifice.
The interior of the tomb was a sprawling place, utterly dark, and crawling with its maddened defenders. Tuljima was hard-pressed to maintain his defense and keep the insipid darkness from pressing into his mind as well as his eyes; the reports hadn't lied in the least, the place stank of the Dark Side. Whoever the warlord had been, he or she must have been powerful indeed. Tuljima fought his way to the inner chambers, where the strongest of the invaders lurked; among them was the awakened spirit of the ancient warlord, thirsty for Jedi blood. To the spirit's vision, Tuljima was a beacon of light amidst the darkness, and it wanted nothing less than to extinguish him.
It was a brutal struggle, not only against the spirit's vassals but against the cajoling whispers of the spirit itself. It spoke of the futility of life, of how death and surrender were infinitely better than the endless struggles and tribulations of the living. Tuljima replied that he liked his life, thanks very much, and if it liked death so much it should shut up and go back to it. This enraged the spirit, and in the darkness a gem flashed from within the open scarcophagus of the warlord. Acting on instinct, Tuljima rushed toward the gem and swung his lightsaber down on it, cutting through the foul thing in one swipe.
An unholy scream filled the air, and the remaining Shadowmen cowered, disoriented without the perversion of the spirit's influence to drive their bloodlust. Some of them fainted, the rest simply ran, and Tuljima was left alone in the ornate, darkened burial chambers. The dark side taint was mostly gone; without the spirit's presense it was now little more than background noise, harmless radiation.
Bendon and Tuljima seized the relics and artifacts of the warlord, so that no others could claim them and fall under their influence, and took them back to Coruscant for careful study and safekeeping. The Council was told of Tuljima's actions, and they agreed that with this final test of his bravery, he was ready for Knighthood at last. After a brief period of rest and meditation, the ceremony was conducted, and Tuljima was officially a Jedi Knight. The ill-fitting robes of the Padawan were taken away, and he was given new ones, in the style of the Knight, that actuall fit his lean, lanky frame. Bendon was conferred the rank of Master at the same time, and both men were exhilirated and happy.
Now, with the rank of Knight upon him at last, Tuljima still does stuff for the Council, as all Knights do. He has yet to take a student of his own, of course, as he is still somewhat immature, yet none deny his abilities.
Lightsaber: Tuljima's lightsaber is ususual, to say the least. The outer casing is fashioned from the tooth of a Krayt dragon, and one of the gems inside is the pearl found in the creature's gizzard. The other gem is a Durindfire diamond, found in the beast's lair. It is a powerful weapon, with a slightly longer blade than usual, well-suited to Tuljima's vigorous, deadly, and distinctive style.
Color: Bright silver, with a distinctive pearl sheen.
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Shii-Cho- 5
Makashi- 1
Soresu- N/A
Ataru- 4
Shien / Djem So- 1
>>Sub-form Backhanded
Niman- N/A
>>Sub-form Jar-kai, or Dual Wield
Juyo- N/A
Double Bladed Combat-N/A
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Telekinetic: 3
-Push and Pull
Telepathic: 0
Body: 7
-Speed
-Jump
-Valor
Sense: 5
-Sense
-Darkvision
Protection: 0
Healing: 2
-Self Heal
Destruction: 0
Specialized Skills:
Improved Flurry
Improved Rapid Shot
Basic Piloting (Light freighters)
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 5
Intelligence: 4
Speed: 7
Leadership: 2
Unarmed: 3
Melee Weapons: 7
Ranged Weapons: 6
Force Attunement: 3
RP Sample:
"Shaylas!" the tall man called out, striding down the corridor. It was dimly lit, but the rooms at the end had a lot of light; he could see it spilling out through the half-open door. He was thin, with greasy black hair done up in thin dreadlocks, angry brown eyes glaring out from beneath thick, lowered brows. He wore a suit of Nagai electromesh armor, protecting him well from blaster fire and physical blows; normally proportioned armor just didn't fit his gangly frame. At his hip was a vibrosword and a heavy blaster pistol.
He reached the rooms and stepped inside, sparing only a brief look at the opulence within; compared to the rest of them, the men and women under her command, she lived like a princess, in luxury that would rival a Senator's apartments. A frugal Senator, perhaps, but still. Shaylas herself had been napping; at the sound of the man's voice she stirred, stretching languorously and sitting up in bed. "Mmm… Jerme? Is that you?"
"Yeah, 's me," the man replied from across the room, looking at the woman in the bed. Shaylas was beautiful, in a dark and pale sort of way; her body was toned and lean, fully curved where a woman should be. Her face was haughty and angular, though her eyes were off; sometimes they were yellowish-green, but other times they seemed to be golden. She was also free with her charms, picking at random from her troops who would share her bed for a week or so; it didn't matter whether they were male or female, human or Twi'lek or Zeltron.
"Did you change your mind, Jerme dear?" she purred, arching her back and eyeing him candidly. "The other side of my bed is still open, you know…"
"No, an' I won' be takin' ye up either," Jerme snapped back, irritated; this was the second week she'd offered herself, and he wondered dimly if she was always that stupid. Another man, a stronger Jedi, may have taken her up just for the chance to hear her talk afterward, but he was still in training and wasn't that certain of himself yet. "I came 'ere t' talk, act'ally."
The inviting look faded from her face, and she sat up straighter. "Talk? Jerme, what do you mean? There's nothing to talk about; you've been an excellent man for us, but-"
"I know who ye're workin' for, ye harridan!" the man who called himself Jerme replied, raising his voice. "I been snoopin' aroun', askin' questi'ns, an' ye're ain't who ye say ye are!"
Shaylas gasped, flinging herself out of the bed; even in bed she wore leather armor, though it was skimpy and seemed more decorative than protective. "You… you're a… a spy…" she said, panting, eyes wide in shock. "Who do you work for?! Who are you?!"
"I'm m' own sel'," Jerme replied, hands going to his weapons. "An' don' ye worry 'bout who I work f'r; ye'll be meetin' 'em soon enou'."
"Enough!" she cried. "Droids! Kill him!" Immediately the two droids in the room sprang to life, each one armed with wristblades and repeating blasters. Jerme was even faster then that, though; he lunged forward at the nearest droid, diving down beneath its slashing blade, stabbing up with his own sword through its optical receptors and circuitry. He yanked on the sword and spun about, using the disabled droid as a shield against the other droid's blaster; he then flung himself to the side, shooting the droid with his own gun and hitting it several times in the head.
Shaylas was dumbstruck; she had felt a familiar surge of power, and immediately guesses at the source. "You… you're a Jedi!" she screamed, fear beginning to gnaw at her.
"Took ya long enough!" 'Jerme' shot back, wiping blood away from his face; he hadn't been fast enough in his first lunge, and the droid had nicked his cheek. It would eventually form a scar, a jagged line of discolored skin on his cheek that would forever serve as a reminder that one could never be fast enough. "I'se Tuljima Gunslingah, sent by th' Jedi t' figger out 'is place! An' lookie what I foun' righ' off? Some horny ol' failure of a Jedi!"
Shaylas screamed in rage, throwing her hand out; a lightsaber sprang into it from a drawer, igniting as it rose up, its red blade glowing brightly. "Die, you scum!" she shrieked, launching herself forward, seeing red in her sudden furious need to annihilate the impertinent worm before her.
He was ready for her, though. In her rage she had forgotten any advanced lightsaber techniques she may have learned before, reverting back to the basic Shii-cho forms drilled into every Youngling in their formative years. "Ye'll hafta do better'n 'at!" Tuljima crowed, fending off her attacks with his sword; the ultrasonic vibrations generated along the blade, combined with a slight energy field generated by the modified vibration cell, served to immunize the sword from the normal effects of lightsaber against metal. Shaylas snarled and pressed the attack, yet Tuljima insisted on waiting her out, playing defensively, lashing out now and then with a blow of his own; it went against his nature, but he knew that if she got her head clear and realized what he was about, she'd simply step back and use some dark devilry on him. But if he kept her mad and hopping she'd wear herself out, and he'd get a chance for a really good attack.
That chance came a few moments later, as Shaylas launched into a horizontal slash; she was running out of steam, her blows were just that far behind the mark. Tuljima ducked, pivoted, twisted around behind her, bringing his blaster up at the same time; too late she realized his whole ploy and desperately tried to bring her weapon around, but he was far too quick for that. A single shot to the back of her knee forced a cry of pain out of her, and she stumbled; quick as a blink he snapped the hilt of his blade out, bashing her over the back of her head and knocking her unconscious. "Filthy… Jedi…" she murmured, delirious, before her eyes closed.
Panting, Tuljima looked around, assessing the damage. There wasn't much; the two fighters had only been concerned for themselves, not their surroundings. "Hmmph," he muttered, sheathing his sword and holstering the blaster; with a grunt he picked Shaylas up and slung her over his shoulder, kneeling to pocket her lightsaber before turning his gaze to the doorway and the corridor beyond. He summoned the Force one more time to lend speed to his heels, then dashed for the docking bays close by, where he had prepped a ship for quick take-off before confronting Shaylas.
Fortunately he met no more pirates en route, and reached the ship without further incident. Boarding, he looked for a place to stow his captive; spying a Force Cage, he thanked the Force and walked over to it, dropping the unconscious woman within the circle and hitting the button. The energy field crackled into existence, securing her better than any bonds or ties; satisfied on that score, Tuljima went forward to the cockpit, sitting down and running through the last pre-flight check. "All green," he noted happily, engaging the thrusters and lifting off.
Minutes later he was free of the asteroid field, and the navicomputer was whirring away. Once it had a route and a figure, he punched it in and watched as stars around him blurred into lines. "Can't take shor' 'nough," he complained idly, putting his feet up on the dash and closing eyes. He was asleep in moments, hoping he wouldn't have to wake up until the next leg of the journey home…
Race: Human
Age: 24
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 150
Appearance:
Tuljima is a tall, gaunt young man with dark hair and dull, confused brown eyes. His skin is ruddy and tanned from all the time he spends outside, and his robes are never quite clean, or as neat as the standards would have it; a scar cuts across his left cheek, just below the eye, from a close shave with a vibroblade-wielding pirate droid. He has a very active metabolism, and can't quite ever get enough to eat; this is why he is so thin. Usually his face is contorted in annoyance, either because he's hungry or because he's been teased again about his eating habits. He is not very good looking, in other words, even on the best of days.
As mentioned above, his robes are usually somewhat stained, as he isn't a very neat eater. They do fit, however, now that he is no longer a Padawan and Knights have the luxury of tailored clothing. Physically, he is extremely fast, with astonishing reflexes and coordination; this doesn't quite extend to his mental faculties, however, as he has struggled mightily at the academic portions of Jedi instruction. He makes up for it, though, in physical endeavors and combat training. Since becoming a Knight he has calmed down, and isn't generally as irritable as before, comporting himself with more of the dignity that befits a Jedi. He still isn't very Jedi-like, however, and can fall back into his old ways easily, so he still gets sent on missions that require his particular blend of Jedi talent, thuggishness, and combat prowess.
Birthplace: Tatooine, Anchorhead
Faction: Jedi
Rank: Knight, Guardian
Bio:
Tuljima was born on Anchorhead, the son of a hunter and one of the local prostitutes. Naturally the girl didn't want him, and the hunter didn't really believe it was his son anyway, so he gave the baby to another young couple, who had tried to have a kid of their own but had failed. The husband, Shoulom Gunslinger, worked as security for the remaining Czerka presence, and his wife Tallie didn't do much at all. They did their best by the little boy, whom they named Tuljima after one of Tallie's grandfathers, but for some reason they just couldn't get through to the little infant; even at that age he was sullen and grumpy, always hungry and screaming for milk, then food.
So it was with no small relief that the inexperienced parents gave the child to some Jedi scouts that had come to the area looking for prospective youths. Tuljima had a degree of sensitivity to it, and the Jedi didn't have to do much persuading to get his foster parents to relinquish him.
At the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, Tuljima was treated much like any other youngling, with the same care and attention as all the others. Nevertheless, as he grew older he felt as if he deserved more, and couldn't adequately explain why this was. Part of it had to do with the hole in his stomach that never went away; he was always ravenous, could never get enough to eat. The others in his group teased him for it, for his appetite and his sloppy table manners; he lashed back out at them, then grew sullen and withdrawn over time. In lessons and diplomacy he struggled and could not learn; in physical training, in lightsaber instruction, he excelled, displaying an unusual dexterity and grace even for one so young.
As he grew into adolescence he started getting tall, and his physical grace was replaced by an odd, gangly sense of balance; he'd trip and fall over but somehow get back to his feet, and his reflexes were faster than ever (in no small part because of training; he was clever in his own way, and knew he had to improve on his agility whenever he could). He was taken as a Padawan when he was twelve, and from there went on to tour the galaxy with his master, an older Knight named Torvus, settling disputes and defeating bad guys. However, Tuljima had another odd quirk; outside the Temple, he would not carry a lightsaber, not even a practice one. He seemed to think that until he could make his own and endure the Jedi Trials he was unworthy of the awesome weapon, so instead he carried a blaster pistol and a vibrosword out on missions.
One such mission took them to the agricultural planet of Bakura; a band of petty raiders had taken a warehouse as their headquarters, and were raiding the surrounding countryside in pursuit of food and credits. Tuljima and his master went in to attempt to reason with the thugs, but they wouldn't be reasoned with; doors slammed shut and the lights went out, and the thugs, equipped with vision-enhancing visors, drew their blasters in preparation for gunning the two Jedi down. His master leaped away, lightsaber spinning into his hand; Tuljima, confused by the darkness, dove to the floor, yanking at the sword in his belt. He landed at the feet of one of the thugs, and in desperation used the Force to pull out his blaster and shoot the alien through the chest.
Panting and strangely exhilarated, Tuljima shot to his feet, finally managing to yank the sword out of its scabbard. Vaguely sensing another thug nearby he went towards him, sword at the ready; the thug noticed, and smirked as he drew his own blade. He was a skilled fighter, but Tuljima's natural reflexes served him well; the darkness wasn't confusing him anymore, and after about a minute of intense dueling the alien thug lay in a pool of his own blood at Tuljima's feet, disemboweled, and the Padawan's sword had taken another being's life for the first time. It was much more personal and harrowing than shooting someone, even from up close, and the lad was distraught.
Only when Torvus found him, still standing over the dead body, did he realize that he'd fought the duel one-handed, against all tradition, his blaster gripped tightly in his other hand. They reported to the authorities nearby of their success, and on the way back to Coruscant Tuljima asked his master why those men had insisted on fighting back, why he'd felt such a rush upon cutting his second thug down. His master explained that normally, violence was not the way of the Jedi, but when attacked by other intent on harming or killing them they had to respond in kind; a Jedi did no good if he was dead, after all. He counseled against such a rush of emotion, though, warning that such things were an easy path to the Dark Side.
Back in the Temple, Tuljima went to the Archives to try and learn about sensing his environment; the feeling of confusion and helplessness he'd felt in the warehouse, when the raiders had turned the lights off and attacked them, still lurked in the back of his mind, and he did not care to experience it again. He had never been gifted in study, but after some weeks of unusual focus on his part he managed to grasp the basics, and built upon them in some of the darker, unused sections of the Temple. His master, pleased but perplexed, congratulated him on having learned a new power.
Another mission later on took them to Naboo, to resolve a dispute between government officials and a local farmers' union. The farmers wanted to sell their crops at higher prices, but the officials held that the current economy wouldn't be able to uphold higher prices and insisted on imposing price controls. The farmers, many of whom were veterans of Republic service, were getting annoyed; both sides had appealed to the Council for resolution. Though it wasn't the sort of thing Tuljima would be good at, his master had decided it would be good for him anyway. On the way there he tried to make it as clear as possible to the young man that they couldn't allow the situation to dissolve into violence; he was only to draw his weapons if his own life was in direct harm. Sullenly, the gangly youth agreed, frustrated over the empty pit in his stomach.
They arrived, and found the two parties gathered in a meeting hall. The older Jedi sat down and invited them to discuss their grievances in a polite matter; Tuljima, bored with all the talk, wandered over and amused himself by cleaning out the buffet table. Behind him, the debate went on, voices rising and falling, a consensus always out of reach; suddenly one of the farmers stood up, shouting about socialism, and lunged at the nearest bureaucrat; Tuljima's master shouted and made to get up himself, but before he was out of his seat Tuljima himself was at the incensed farmer's side, his long arm wrapped around the man's neck and his blaster discreetly jammed into his back.
The farmer went pale as the Jedi-in-training hissed a warning into his ear, and sat back down once released, shaking slightly; the rest of the group, subdued, soon came to an agreement over the issue. The farmers would get a raise in prices, but not as high as they had first demanded. On the way out his master reprimanded Tuljima for resorting to threats so quickly, but allowed that the action had done much to break the deadlock in the dispute.
Back at the Temple again, Tuljima and his master debriefed concerning the outcome of the mission, and for a while the two of them rested in the Temple, training and meditating. During this time Tuljima refined the unusual stance he'd accidentally discovered during the mission to Bakura, that of wielding a sword and a blaster at once; obviously it was difficult to work out, and there were several who thought him foolish for fighting with something besides a lightsaber, but he didn't care. During this period he also worked on his Force techniques, especially the more physical ones that came more easily to him, like Speed and Jump, though he also worked on his telekinesis and his Sensing powers.
Some years later, when Tuljima was 21, rumor reached the ears of the Council, about a coalition of pirates operating in the Mid Rim, which the Navy were unable to locate. These pirates were primarily striking wealthy vessels, or freighters with a lot of cargo; unwilling to admit defeat the Navy requested aid from the Jedi, who made their own study of recordings and events before deciding anything. What they found disturbed them; the tactics of the pirates were disturbingly similar to those employed by Sith or Dark Jedi, and their intelligence regarding targets and victims pointed to at least one mole in shipping regulations bureaus. Curious about these events, they decided to send a Jedi to infiltrate the coalition and learn what he or she could; after some deliberation they sent Tuljima on this task, the young man being the least Jedi-like of the available Jedi, well capable of defending himself without a lightsaber, and having a generally high success rate on his tasks.
In preparation for the mission, his first major solo, Tuljima spent a month learning to pilot small freighters and similar light ships. Then he was sent on his way to the Mid Rim, flying a vessel loaded with forgeries of rare artwork; the cargo manifest and log information indicated a museum had purchased some examples from another, and this ship was transporting them. After two days of roving the general area the pirate attacks had been reported from, he was overtaken by a much larger vessel, a modified Taris Corvette-class ship named Blood Talon. His own ship could not outrace the tractor beams aimed at him, nor would its shields stand up to the turbolaser batteries if he did somehow manage to get away, but he didn't want to get away; everything was going according to plan.
His ship was hauled in and docking tubes extended; a preliminary boarding party rushed in, bristling with armor and weaponry, high-powered carbines raised and trigger fingers itching. They were surprised to find one man aboard the vessel; two of them roughly grabbed the man and took him as a prisoner, while the others set about removing all the goods and securing the vessel for transport. Dynamic-class freighters were somewhat rare, after all, and easily modified to quasi-military specs; it was as good a catch as the cargo it had been carrying.
Tuljima, feigning fear, was disarmed and taken before the captain of the vessel, a scarred human male dressed in leather uniform; metal glinted from the man's temples, a sign of implants and cybernetics. He demanded to know why a vessel full of rare art was piloted by only one man; Tuljima replied that he didn't know, but he did know the winning side when he met it. He introduced himself as Jerme, a small-time pilot handy with swords and guns who was always open to a deal.
The captain laughed and ordered him thrown to the brig, along with a canteen of water; an hour later the guards let him out and escorted him back to the bridge, where an entirely different person waited for him. A woman, pale-skinned but beautiful, looked at him with appraising eyes and told him he had the Force; "Jerme" replied that he had no idea what she meant and if they were going to keep him locked up all the time he wasn't so sure this was the winning side anymore. That made the woman laugh, and she explained herself more fully.
Her name, she said, was Shaylas, and she had once been a Jedi, training to be a Sentinel. But she had failed the final test, and cast herself out; it had been the best thing to ever happen to her, she exclaimed. The galaxy beyond the Jedi was so much more colorful and diverse, so much beyond the Jedi Code to be learned about the Force. She looked him in the eye and offered to take him as her apprentice, so that he too could see the galaxy as she and the misguided fools at Coruscant did.
It would not be fair to say Tuljima wasn't tempted, because he was; for all his simple-mindedness, for all his dim loyalty, he had had his moments of doubt about the Jedi and their view. He recalled those from his past who has teased him, for his speech or his manners or his appetite, and remembered that they too had been students of the Jedi. He recalled his own frustration at the pace forced upon his learning, the insistence that he be well-rounded in what he did; he thought of the infrequent longing, so rare yet so powerful, for knowledge that the Jedi would not impart.
In the next second he shook his head; such thoughts were of the Dark Side, and he was only a year or so from being of age to undertake the Trials. What did this woman, this failed and fallen would-be Knight, have to offer him? He looked back up at her and declined her offer of personal training, but he still didn't know what she meant and all he really wanted was to either be let go or be allowed to find out what the winning side was all about.
In the end she allowed him to stay on, but he would be watched; the life of a pirate was not an easy one, she warned, and one had to be ruthless and unmerciful. "Jerme" said he could do that, and she signaled the guards to give him his affects back. After that he was a member of the pirate gang for about six months, during which he poked around and asked what he thought were innocent questions. What he learned would have shocked someone else, but to him it only made sense.
Shaylas was receiving backup and support from the Sith Empire, not to mention funding and training for the men she commanded. In turn she sent along the goods and ships stolen, which were then resold or assimilated into their own fleets. It was quite a tidy operation; Shaylas was a deniable source of income, and a handy training ground for Imperial marines as well as a testing range for experimental training methods. Tuljima recorded everything he'd learned to a secure datapad, ironically provided by the pirates themselves, and stowed away where no one else would find it. Then he went to confront Shaylas, aware that doing so would blow his cover; that didn't matter anymore, now that his mission was successful.
Before he did that, though, he made sure a ship was nearby he could escape on, one that he could pilot. There was, and with a last check of his sword and his blaster he went to face off with the fallen Jedi. She was in her quarters, naturally, at the highest level of the abandoned mining colony the pirates had taken over as a base; two droids lurked about the room, as well, armed with wrist-mounted vibroblades and blasters. He made his accusations; she laughed in his face and ordered the droids to attack him. The machines sprang up, blades sliding out and blasters humming to life in an instant, but Tuljima was faster even than them; calling on the Force to bolster his speed he whipped out his own sword and blaster, lunging forward and skewering the nearest droid through its head, spinning around and yanking the droid along so that it would block the shots from the other droid, allowing him to shoot back at it. A spark of pain came from his cheek and blood spattered lightly out, though; he hadn't been fast enough to entirely avoid the machine's blade.
Shaylas screamed in recognition and fear, knowing now that "Jerme" had been a Jedi all along. With a cry she shoved the droids out of the way, whipping out a red-bladed lightsaber she had constructed to replace the one surrendered years ago, and lunging at Tuljima with an overhead slash. She was fast, but Tuljima was faster, and he was in control of his emotions whereas Shaylas was enraged and slashing blindly, screaming out her betrayal. Tuljima kept his head and deflected every blow; in her fury she had forgotten any advanced techniques and reverted back to Shii-cho basics, which themselves were developed directly from swordfighting techniques.
He waited until she was vulnerable, then ducked and twisted to the side and behind, bringing the blaster up and shooting her in the back of the knee; she cried out in pain and collapsed, and Tuljima darted in, bashing the back of her head with the pommel of his sword, knocking her unconscious. He sheathed his sword and holstered the blaster, picking up the unconscious pirate leader and slinging her over his shoulder; then, pausing only to pocket the fallen one's lightsaber, he called on the Force yet again and dashed for the ship before anyone could figure out what was going on. Fortunately for him the ship was equipped with a Force cage, so he stuffed her into it and went about getting out of there.
After a long ride back, Coruscant appeared in the viewport, and he sent a docking request to the Temple landing pads. Permission was swiftly sent back, and he brought the pirate vessel down for a shaky landing; it hadn't quite been what he'd trained on, and anyway it was his first landing period. A guard of experienced Knights were on hand to take Shaylas into custody. The young man was exhausted, both physically and emotionally; infiltrating the bloodthirsty pirate group had been a harrowing ordeal, and he was glad to finally drop his cover. He gave the datapad containing his findings to one of the Knights, then went to get some much-needed rest and meditation.
When he felt rested and ready again, he went to meet with the Council and tell them of the mission in his own words. They were quite proud of him; it had been a risky mission, and a few had privately doubted he would come back alive, much less with a fallen Jedi in tow. The reports he'd brought back were alarming, and others were already acting on the information within.
They had bad news, however; in Tuljima's absence, his master had succumbed to old age, passing away peacefully in his sleep to become one with the Force. Despondent over the loss, Tuljima declined the Council's offer of taking the Trials, still uncertain of his capability. He wanted to be fully prepared for the ordeal, and asked to be assigned to another master if such was possible.
About a week later he was taken on by a senior Knight, himself a former student of Torvus; the man's name was Bendon, and he was a Sentinel, one who saw the balance between combat and diplomacy, lightsabers and the Force. In Bendon's estimation the adventure with the pirates counted for the Trial of Courage, as Tuljima had displayed exceptional bravery and good use of the Force in combat; nevermind that he'd used a sword instead of a lightsaber, as that would have ruined his cover.
For the Trial of the Flesh, Bendon decided he and Tuljima would venture to Tatooine, the birthplace of the Jedi-in-Training; rumor had it that a Krayt dragon of unusual ferocity had taken up residence near one of the settlements and was savaging the surrounding area. If Tuljima could slay it, he would save the settlement and prove himself a great warrior. They travelled to the planet and touched down in Anchorhead, where they sought out an elderly hunter said to have killed Krayt dragons in the past. This man was Tuljima's true father, though neither man recognized the other and the meeting had no significance beyond two men seeking the advice of one more experienced.
The old hunter explained that the Krayts could not resist the scene of bantha; lure a few out to where your dragon was, and you could get the thing out in the open pretty quick. The downside was that you'd get the thing out pretty quick; you'd have to be well-prepared, either with a mine field laid out in advanced or a blazing quick trigger finger. Acting on the old man's advice, Tuljima and his master sought out some bantha fodder, being assured that there was a wild herd out near the dragon's lair.
Out they went, in a rented speeder, the pungent odor of the fodder filling their nostrils. It was distinctly unpleasant for Tuljima; he wasn't used to the heat and the dryness, and was thankful Bendon had brough plenty of water. They located a herd of bantha, and parked the speeder, hefting the smelly fodder and luring the animals on; like moths to a flame the docile creatures plodded slowly after them, unable to resist the scent.
The dragon's lair was closer than they'd anticipated, as they discovered when a hideous roar sounded from around a bend in the cliffs; charging around the bend came the largest creature either Jedi had ever seen, a massive Krayt dragon. There was no time to lay mines, no time to even think; Bendon dove to the side and prayed to the Force that they would survive, but Tuljima did his usual unexpected thing. He whipped his sword and blaster out and ran right back at the charging monster, using the Force to propel himself through the air and land on the thing's snout; swinging his blades at the thing's eyes to distact it, he aimed and fired several time into its nostrils, piercing the sinus cavity and killing it instantly. He then leaped away as it stumbled and skidded to a stop, throwing up clouds of sandy dust.
Once the clouds settled, Tuljima and his master beheld their prey. Bendon explained that as the conqueror, it was Tuljima's right to carve into the thing's belly and claim the pearl that resided in its gizzard, worth a great deal of money and usable as a crystal in lightsaber construction. Face twisting in disgust, Tuljima gritted his teeth and set about doing so, first breaking off several of the thing's teeth for further use in his lightsaber; he fancied being able to brag about having killed a Krayt dragon, after all.
It took hours, and Bendon had to go to the nearby settlement for more water, but eventually the guts were laid open. To their astonishment the beast had not one, but three of the precious gems in its gizzard; a rare trophy, indeed. Further search of the thing's lair revealed more treasures; a few odd bits of stuff, and a Durindfire gem.
The two Jedi went to the settlement bearing proof of their victory, and were well-thanked by the grateful populace. Then they returned to Anchorhead, where the old hunter congratulated them on their victory, and allowed that Tuljima was a true warrior himself now; Tuljima didn't know about that, though, he was exhausted and thirsty and wanted to get back to Coruscant. During the long voyage back home, Tuljima recuperated from the ordeal, and began studying how he would craft his own lightsaber at last.
He now had two trials left; the Trial of Skill, and the Trial of the Spirit. For the Trial of Skill, his master had a fairly straightforward task in mind; with his newly completed lightsaber in hand, run through a gamut of obstacles, ranging from turrets to droids armed with lightsabers. First, though, Tuljima had to create his weapon, which took seven months; the dragon pearls had to be exactlingly prepared, and he ruined two of them for use before he got the last one just right. The teeth of the beast had to be prepared as well, and it was a while before he could manage it without shattering the thing.
At last, though, he had his weapon, and per the ceremony his master stood by as Tuljima chanted the mantras and activated it for the first time. The blade burst forth, a beautiful silver rod of light with a pearl-like sheen; it was an unusual weapon in many respects, and the young man at last felt he could call himself a Jedi and not be a fraud.
Soon after that he undertook the Trial of Skill, facing off against an array of mechanical foes in one of the obstacle courses of the Jedi Temple. It was a grueling affair; the turrets, though set to non-lethal settings, still inflicted great pain, and the droids' combat algorithms were dialed up to a Knight's level of skill. Tuljima failed twice, in fact, unable to dodge enough shots and being overcome by pain and numbness, but on the third try he made it through to the end.
Now he only had one final test, that of the Spirit. News came from the dark world of Nivek of a peculiar stone construction, one that seemed to emanate a dark aura; recently discovered, it was driving those who explored it to madness, especially the indigenous, insectoid Shadowmen who resided nearby. The Council suspected that this building could be a tomb of a Dark Jedi warlord, and determined to send someone to investigate and, if possible, cleanse the place of its taint. Bendon and Tuljima were selected to do so.
The two of them flew to the dark planet, and landed near the tomb; immediately they were attacked by vicious insectoid assailants, and their lightsabers flashed out in the gloom. Once the attack was repelled they approached the tomb, and Bendon stopped. He told his student that the Trial of the Spirit had to be undertaken alone; he could not accompany Tuljima into the tomb itself. Undaunted, the Jedi-in-training raised his saber, checked that his sword and blaster were in place, and strode boldly into the black maw of the edifice.
The interior of the tomb was a sprawling place, utterly dark, and crawling with its maddened defenders. Tuljima was hard-pressed to maintain his defense and keep the insipid darkness from pressing into his mind as well as his eyes; the reports hadn't lied in the least, the place stank of the Dark Side. Whoever the warlord had been, he or she must have been powerful indeed. Tuljima fought his way to the inner chambers, where the strongest of the invaders lurked; among them was the awakened spirit of the ancient warlord, thirsty for Jedi blood. To the spirit's vision, Tuljima was a beacon of light amidst the darkness, and it wanted nothing less than to extinguish him.
It was a brutal struggle, not only against the spirit's vassals but against the cajoling whispers of the spirit itself. It spoke of the futility of life, of how death and surrender were infinitely better than the endless struggles and tribulations of the living. Tuljima replied that he liked his life, thanks very much, and if it liked death so much it should shut up and go back to it. This enraged the spirit, and in the darkness a gem flashed from within the open scarcophagus of the warlord. Acting on instinct, Tuljima rushed toward the gem and swung his lightsaber down on it, cutting through the foul thing in one swipe.
An unholy scream filled the air, and the remaining Shadowmen cowered, disoriented without the perversion of the spirit's influence to drive their bloodlust. Some of them fainted, the rest simply ran, and Tuljima was left alone in the ornate, darkened burial chambers. The dark side taint was mostly gone; without the spirit's presense it was now little more than background noise, harmless radiation.
Bendon and Tuljima seized the relics and artifacts of the warlord, so that no others could claim them and fall under their influence, and took them back to Coruscant for careful study and safekeeping. The Council was told of Tuljima's actions, and they agreed that with this final test of his bravery, he was ready for Knighthood at last. After a brief period of rest and meditation, the ceremony was conducted, and Tuljima was officially a Jedi Knight. The ill-fitting robes of the Padawan were taken away, and he was given new ones, in the style of the Knight, that actuall fit his lean, lanky frame. Bendon was conferred the rank of Master at the same time, and both men were exhilirated and happy.
Now, with the rank of Knight upon him at last, Tuljima still does stuff for the Council, as all Knights do. He has yet to take a student of his own, of course, as he is still somewhat immature, yet none deny his abilities.
Lightsaber: Tuljima's lightsaber is ususual, to say the least. The outer casing is fashioned from the tooth of a Krayt dragon, and one of the gems inside is the pearl found in the creature's gizzard. The other gem is a Durindfire diamond, found in the beast's lair. It is a powerful weapon, with a slightly longer blade than usual, well-suited to Tuljima's vigorous, deadly, and distinctive style.
Color: Bright silver, with a distinctive pearl sheen.
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Shii-Cho- 5
Makashi- 1
Soresu- N/A
Ataru- 4
Shien / Djem So- 1
>>Sub-form Backhanded
Niman- N/A
>>Sub-form Jar-kai, or Dual Wield
Juyo- N/A
Double Bladed Combat-N/A
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Telekinetic: 3
-Push and Pull
Telepathic: 0
Body: 7
-Speed
-Jump
-Valor
Sense: 5
-Sense
-Darkvision
Protection: 0
Healing: 2
-Self Heal
Destruction: 0
Specialized Skills:
Improved Flurry
Improved Rapid Shot
Basic Piloting (Light freighters)
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 5
Intelligence: 4
Speed: 7
Leadership: 2
Unarmed: 3
Melee Weapons: 7
Ranged Weapons: 6
Force Attunement: 3
RP Sample:
"Shaylas!" the tall man called out, striding down the corridor. It was dimly lit, but the rooms at the end had a lot of light; he could see it spilling out through the half-open door. He was thin, with greasy black hair done up in thin dreadlocks, angry brown eyes glaring out from beneath thick, lowered brows. He wore a suit of Nagai electromesh armor, protecting him well from blaster fire and physical blows; normally proportioned armor just didn't fit his gangly frame. At his hip was a vibrosword and a heavy blaster pistol.
He reached the rooms and stepped inside, sparing only a brief look at the opulence within; compared to the rest of them, the men and women under her command, she lived like a princess, in luxury that would rival a Senator's apartments. A frugal Senator, perhaps, but still. Shaylas herself had been napping; at the sound of the man's voice she stirred, stretching languorously and sitting up in bed. "Mmm… Jerme? Is that you?"
"Yeah, 's me," the man replied from across the room, looking at the woman in the bed. Shaylas was beautiful, in a dark and pale sort of way; her body was toned and lean, fully curved where a woman should be. Her face was haughty and angular, though her eyes were off; sometimes they were yellowish-green, but other times they seemed to be golden. She was also free with her charms, picking at random from her troops who would share her bed for a week or so; it didn't matter whether they were male or female, human or Twi'lek or Zeltron.
"Did you change your mind, Jerme dear?" she purred, arching her back and eyeing him candidly. "The other side of my bed is still open, you know…"
"No, an' I won' be takin' ye up either," Jerme snapped back, irritated; this was the second week she'd offered herself, and he wondered dimly if she was always that stupid. Another man, a stronger Jedi, may have taken her up just for the chance to hear her talk afterward, but he was still in training and wasn't that certain of himself yet. "I came 'ere t' talk, act'ally."
The inviting look faded from her face, and she sat up straighter. "Talk? Jerme, what do you mean? There's nothing to talk about; you've been an excellent man for us, but-"
"I know who ye're workin' for, ye harridan!" the man who called himself Jerme replied, raising his voice. "I been snoopin' aroun', askin' questi'ns, an' ye're ain't who ye say ye are!"
Shaylas gasped, flinging herself out of the bed; even in bed she wore leather armor, though it was skimpy and seemed more decorative than protective. "You… you're a… a spy…" she said, panting, eyes wide in shock. "Who do you work for?! Who are you?!"
"I'm m' own sel'," Jerme replied, hands going to his weapons. "An' don' ye worry 'bout who I work f'r; ye'll be meetin' 'em soon enou'."
"Enough!" she cried. "Droids! Kill him!" Immediately the two droids in the room sprang to life, each one armed with wristblades and repeating blasters. Jerme was even faster then that, though; he lunged forward at the nearest droid, diving down beneath its slashing blade, stabbing up with his own sword through its optical receptors and circuitry. He yanked on the sword and spun about, using the disabled droid as a shield against the other droid's blaster; he then flung himself to the side, shooting the droid with his own gun and hitting it several times in the head.
Shaylas was dumbstruck; she had felt a familiar surge of power, and immediately guesses at the source. "You… you're a Jedi!" she screamed, fear beginning to gnaw at her.
"Took ya long enough!" 'Jerme' shot back, wiping blood away from his face; he hadn't been fast enough in his first lunge, and the droid had nicked his cheek. It would eventually form a scar, a jagged line of discolored skin on his cheek that would forever serve as a reminder that one could never be fast enough. "I'se Tuljima Gunslingah, sent by th' Jedi t' figger out 'is place! An' lookie what I foun' righ' off? Some horny ol' failure of a Jedi!"
Shaylas screamed in rage, throwing her hand out; a lightsaber sprang into it from a drawer, igniting as it rose up, its red blade glowing brightly. "Die, you scum!" she shrieked, launching herself forward, seeing red in her sudden furious need to annihilate the impertinent worm before her.
He was ready for her, though. In her rage she had forgotten any advanced lightsaber techniques she may have learned before, reverting back to the basic Shii-cho forms drilled into every Youngling in their formative years. "Ye'll hafta do better'n 'at!" Tuljima crowed, fending off her attacks with his sword; the ultrasonic vibrations generated along the blade, combined with a slight energy field generated by the modified vibration cell, served to immunize the sword from the normal effects of lightsaber against metal. Shaylas snarled and pressed the attack, yet Tuljima insisted on waiting her out, playing defensively, lashing out now and then with a blow of his own; it went against his nature, but he knew that if she got her head clear and realized what he was about, she'd simply step back and use some dark devilry on him. But if he kept her mad and hopping she'd wear herself out, and he'd get a chance for a really good attack.
That chance came a few moments later, as Shaylas launched into a horizontal slash; she was running out of steam, her blows were just that far behind the mark. Tuljima ducked, pivoted, twisted around behind her, bringing his blaster up at the same time; too late she realized his whole ploy and desperately tried to bring her weapon around, but he was far too quick for that. A single shot to the back of her knee forced a cry of pain out of her, and she stumbled; quick as a blink he snapped the hilt of his blade out, bashing her over the back of her head and knocking her unconscious. "Filthy… Jedi…" she murmured, delirious, before her eyes closed.
Panting, Tuljima looked around, assessing the damage. There wasn't much; the two fighters had only been concerned for themselves, not their surroundings. "Hmmph," he muttered, sheathing his sword and holstering the blaster; with a grunt he picked Shaylas up and slung her over his shoulder, kneeling to pocket her lightsaber before turning his gaze to the doorway and the corridor beyond. He summoned the Force one more time to lend speed to his heels, then dashed for the docking bays close by, where he had prepped a ship for quick take-off before confronting Shaylas.
Fortunately he met no more pirates en route, and reached the ship without further incident. Boarding, he looked for a place to stow his captive; spying a Force Cage, he thanked the Force and walked over to it, dropping the unconscious woman within the circle and hitting the button. The energy field crackled into existence, securing her better than any bonds or ties; satisfied on that score, Tuljima went forward to the cockpit, sitting down and running through the last pre-flight check. "All green," he noted happily, engaging the thrusters and lifting off.
Minutes later he was free of the asteroid field, and the navicomputer was whirring away. Once it had a route and a figure, he punched it in and watched as stars around him blurred into lines. "Can't take shor' 'nough," he complained idly, putting his feet up on the dash and closing eyes. He was asleep in moments, hoping he wouldn't have to wake up until the next leg of the journey home…
