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Jazen
Beelzaboot
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Rocking from the Great White North
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May 19, 2010 20:48:21 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on May 19, 2010 20:48:21 GMT -5
Jazen sat back in his seat, contemplating what his master had added in regarding the kidnappings. That was Locke for you; always analyzing something even down to the finest little detail. The fact that Jazen had overlooked those facts didn't surprise him as much as it could have. Locke was an Investigator and at this current point in time, was much smarter. He had years of experience to draw from whenever he approached a problem. For now, Jazen would do what he could with what he had. Hopefully, from watching and learning, Jazen would someday become as capable a thinker as Locke was.
Taking the new information into account, Jazen concluded now that the most logical kind if people behind the kidnappings were slavers. They would want to move in quietly and quickly, so that they prey had little warning before being taken. Also, by doing so discreetly, the chance of the people catching on right away and hiring help to stop it was lessened. Only after they had taken a large number might the others begin to worry enough to look into it; by then, however, the slavers would usually move on to their next quarry. If it was slavers, however, there was a good chance they had either moved on or were about too. Hopefully they would get there in time to catch them.
Luckily, they were close to the village and after a few moments, Roua announced their arrival. At the same time, Jazen felt the worry in both the knights grow. Something was off here. Coated in the same mist that covered the planet, streets and buildings were barely visible to the naked eye; only the lights and proximity to them allowed Jazen to see anything at all. He wished he could just blow the mist away with the Force, but that would probably be an exercise in futility. Jazen noticed that there weren't any people about, at least that he could see. Which wasn't a lot. Reaching out with the Force, Jazen was taken back for a moment by the rush of emotion he felt coming from the individual houses. There wasn't varying degrees of emotions....just one massive feeling of fear. Had the kidnappings scared them all this much? Jazen found it hard to believe that of this many people, all of them were scared so completely that it blotted out any other feelings. Could there be something else at work here, something that was increasing their fear to this degree? Jazen was mulling over this when he felt something tingle at the back of his mind, a brief feeling of danger approaching. However, just as quick as the feeling came, it vanished. Concern and worry came from his Master, who from his words, had felt it as well.
Keeping on his guard as he exited the speeder, Jazen stood behind the two knights, eying the streets carefully. Both of them were ready to spring into action, hands near enough to their sabers to bring them forth in an instant if need be. Jazen did the same, resting his hand carefully against the hilt of his blade. As Roua spoke, Jazen noticed something moving in the mist beside him. Not right next to him but a shadow moving in between the two nearest buildings. Jazen turned to investigate, probing out with the Force as he took careful steps towards the area. It was cause of this that he was sparred some of the effects of the events that occurred. Something made a clang behind him and a second later, the world grew brighter. Since he was facing away at the time, Jazen didn't see the bright flash of light. He was, however, thrown face first into the building he had been approaching. Something cracked as he rammed into the wall, falling down to the ground in a heap, groaning in pain. The feeling of danger he had felt before sprung into full gear now, warning him of something approaching him. Ignoring the pain in his side, Jazen shot to his feet, his blue saber lit in an instant. But he could see nothing in the mist around him. Looking for the danger, Jazen also reached out for his Master and Gabriel, trying to determine if they were alright. The sound of boots behind him made him spin to face his attacker only to be slowed by the injury to his side. Something hard connected with his face and Jazen's world went dark.
~~~~~~~~
Sometime later, Jazen awoke. Instinctively, he tried to move himself to look around. But he found he couldn't. Shaking his head to clear his vision, Jazen tried to move his arms and legs only to find that neither could move in any way. Glancing up to his arm, Jazen saw some kind of device emitting a ray of energy towards him. A quick check revealed that there were three more of the devices, creating a veil of energy around him. A replusor field. Someone had knocked him out and taken him captive. Oh, how Locke would have a field day with this. At the thought of his Master, Jazen reached out with the Force to try and find him. It was at this point that his body decided to remind him of his injuries and Jazen gasped as the pain in his side and face shot agony throughout his body. Biting his lip to fit off the pain, Jazen reached out again only to find faint traces of his Master. He cursed silently.
Jazen quickly went into his thinking mode, breaking down what he could. It was obvious the villagers had been threatened into helping, apparent by the hesitation Jazen had felt right before things had gone south. But who or what could scare an entire village into going along with a plan to assault three Jedi? No mere slaver or crime lord, that was for sure. His surroundings looked to be part building, but mostly cavern, meaning he was likely in an underground camp. Must have been near to the city, based on how much lighting there was. Power generators could also be powering everything, but he doubted they would rely on basic generators that could fail to keep the fields up. Again his mind drifted back to who could have taken them when something injected itself into his leg. He didn't even get a moment before the world went black again.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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May 24, 2010 21:30:43 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on May 24, 2010 21:30:43 GMT -5
There was a tension in the air around Kriezna; only a fool could miss it, with the way it hung, still and silent, seemingly thick enough to cut with a knife. Or a lightsaber. Locke didn't like it. Not one bit. There was work to be done, however, and so he pushed his trepidation aside and set his mind on the task at hand. At least the fog here wasn't as thick as it had been.
There was no one to be seen about the streets of Kriezna. That wasn't a good sign. Locke thought that even with the terror from the kidnappings, people would be milling about as they went about their daily business. But there was nothing. Only silence, where there should have been some sign of life. It wasn't a good sing.
His eyes shifted to Roua when she spoke again. "That's not good," he muttered. What could possibly be going on that was bad enough to make an entire village afraid to venture out, even at night? "I don't know what's going on here," he started to his companions, "but I think it may be much worse than anything we were thinking of. Fear's gripping this place, but wh-"
Danger, the Force seemed to whisper to him. Orange erupted from the hilt of his lightsaber, which was suddenly in his hand, but it was too late. There were people about. A lot of people. "What the hell is going on?!" Locke yelled. The gentle clinking of a grenade bouncing on the ground was his only answer. His eyes went wide as panic surged through him, as the realization that there was nothing to be done about the situation struck him
And then the explosion came.
The Force slipped away as Locke's concentration was shattered by the concussion grenade. He himself was thrown down to the ground, though he was back on his feet a moment later. The world went in and out of focus, spinning around in such a fashion that he felt sick in his stomach. He saw Gabriel collapse, with blood running down from his temples. Locke spun around in horror to see Jazen get taken out. It was a trap. They'd been ambushed. His mind, wracked by the effects of the grenade as it was, could still pick up that much.
Before he knew what was happening, some big man grabbed him by the throat and threw him back into the side of a building. Locke's reactions were slowed a great deal, and as the fact that he was being attacked registered, a big fist slammed into his hard stomach, forcing all of the air out of him and sending him to his knees. His grey eyes met Roua's green for an instant as he fell over.
"I am sorry, Jedi," was the last thing she said before darkness took him.
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The next thing he knew, he was being forced down to a kneeling position. Darkness still surrounded him, even though his eyes were open. That was quickly rectified when his captor removed whatever had been over his head. Bright lights greeted him, forcing him to shut his eyes and wince, though some of it still bled through his eyelids.
Locke was in the middle of a room that, save for the cone of light produced by the spotlight, was pitch black. It had no windows, and the door into was shut, leaving all light in the outside world safely away. His weapons were gone. His boots were gone, and his lean torso had been stripped bare, leaving the numerous scars that crossed it--one diagonally across his back from his right shoulder to just above the left side of his hip, one on his left shoulder from a lightsaber, and two across his chest that he gained on the mission to Alderaan--bare. His arms were bound behind him.
"I see," said a voice, though with the lights beaming into his eyes, Locke couldn't see the person talking. They sound distinctly male, though. "He's in fair condition. That's good. Tell me, Jedi, what is your purpose here? Were you looking into things that are not your business?"
Pain still rippled through Locke's head, and he shook it in an attempt to clear it. Where were Jazen and Gabriel? Where was he. The voice apparently took his silence as a refusal to answer, because at he muttered something, and a heavy boot slammed into Locke's stomach. The pain was terribly, and Locke bent over, coughing violently.
"Do not defy me, Jedi. It will get you no where. Answer my question."
"Who," Locke started weakly, before going into another fit of coughing, "who are you? Where ar-" The kick took him in the ribs this time, and he screamed in pain.
"Answer the question."
"Why don't you go screw yourself," Locke replied hotly.
Another blow fell into his stomach, he fell over. A hand took his shoulder and set him upright once more, though. The young Knight didn't know what was going on, but as the pain all seemed to migrate from his head to his torso, one thing became resoundingly clear: he was being interrogated, and someone in the room with him could touch the Force. That was very bad.
"Tell me, Jedi, is the white-haired boy your student or the red-headed one's?" There was a sort of cruel amusement in the voice; it was the first emotion it'd shown the entire time.
Fear surged through Locke at the mention of Jazen. He knew that if he answered, they'd move to Jazen, but he didn't know how to keep that from happening. "I don't... I don't know what you're talking about.
There was a laugh. "You lie." Then the voice's attention turned to someone else. "Move all of them into the large interrogation room. The boy will be the one to get interrogated first. The other two can watch."
"NO!" Locke yelled. "Don't-"
"And do shut this one up."
A volley of blows started to fall onto Locke. There wasn't anything he could do to defend himself, and so they continued to fall until finally, when he was on the edge of passing out again, they came to a stop. He was seized by the arm and hauled off, presumably to whatever room the voice spoke of. He just prayed the other two were faring better than he was.
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WWFF
The clockwork hampster
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last online Aug 1, 2013 12:48:43 GMT -5
Padawan
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May 27, 2010 4:16:22 GMT -5
Post by WWFF on May 27, 2010 4:16:22 GMT -5
Though meditation wouldn’t come this time. A door snapped open with a hiss as though from nowhere. His eyes snapped open as he watched three burly men walk into the room, followed by one short droid which looked more like a holodroid from the Temple than a med. droid or battle droid. The three men stood on either side of the base repulser generator, seemingly awaiting his decent, as the droid silently went around to the back and pushed several buttons, turning one knob. He hopped though was the droid lowering the repulse shackles, which would have given him enough time to potentially use the force to do away with these guards. While the repulser released him, either wrist had one blue shackle which snapped his hands together as he began to fall; the same was true with his feet, connecting all four limbs were blue repulse beams generated by the shackles themselves. A curious technology, one which was seemingly invented specifically for the purpose of detaining someone like Gabriel.
As he fell he was caught by the three guards, who were all three human, and all wore the same buzzed hair style. Their clothes were outlandish at best; being nearly fully clothed in a fatigue like garment with blast armor placed over the vital points. The stood him on his feet and ordered him to walk, though the moment his weight landed on his feet his legs collapsed under him.
His body was still shaky from what ever had been used to knock him out, as well as the blast itself. He made an attempt at standing by trying to get onto all fours, though the moment he accomplished that portion of the task he we met with a boot in the gut. The force from the dura-steel tipped shoe forced the air from his body and sent him sprawling to his back, where another boot slammed into his right ribcage, with such power it felt as though his side had caught fire.
“Get up!”
A voice called; one of the guards. He gasped for a moment, attempting to gather his breath as he made motion to attempt once more to get onto his hand and knees to get himself up. Again a boot came soaring into his stomach; again forcing the wind for his lungs and sending him rolling onto his back, where another booted foot came stomping downward on his chest, further shoving what air he was able to gather from his form.
“I said; Get up!”
The same voice. Gabriel was able to clear his mind for a moment, long enough to see which man had made the remark. And again he gasped enough air into his lungs to try to stand again. Once more he rolled onto all fours and once more the booted foot came hurdling toward him; he was ready for it this time and tightened his stomach enough to absorb most of the impact resulting in a far smaller loss of air; though he made it look as though he had been taken unaware. Another boot came falling hard toward his chest again, though again he was ready for this: He bound hands moved up chest high and caught the foot. With one quick harsh movement with his hands, and enhanced slightly with the force, a sickeningly loud crack could be heard at the ankle snapped. A barrage of feet made their way toward him once more though he was clear headed enough to focus his energy; quickly throwing his legs up over his head and rolling backward to a full standing position. Without thinking he shoved both bound hands forward releasing a wave of force energy, throwing the men to the ground, when he heard the familiar buzz of energy.
He felt the head at the back of his neck, as he turned slowly to face one orange saber pointed at his face. The droid earlier mentioned was indeed a holodroid, and apparently wielding his sabers. The blood on Gabriel’s face from his eyes, nose, and ears, had all dried though crusty crimson rivers which now lined his face had begun to crack as he had contorted his features with the pain of being attacked so violently. The droid didn’t speak, and instead slowly stepped in a small circle around Gabriel to his back. Gabriel got the picture, and nodded grimly as he heard the men clamoring to their feet behind him. He could head the stifled sobs of pain coming from the man whose ankle he’d broken, and with a level voice he stated calmly.
“The cuboid’s shattered and fibula’s fractured. Cybernetic’s the way to go if you want to walk again.” His deep voice resonated in the chamber as he found his center, and his equilibrium leveled out. The droid prompted him with the command of walk, and he did, merely because he really had little other choice.
The corridors twisted as he was lead through them, at one point he was sure he was walking in some sort of cave system, though the rocky walls were quickly replaced by building walls. He was utterly and completely lost though that was when he felt the faintest tickle in the force. The signature which he knew to be Locke. The signature grew and soon Gabriel was walking side by side with Locke, who had his hands bound in a similar manor to Gabriel’s. A quick attempt at a silent conversation went up answered as apparently some sort of block had been placed between the two. Instead their eyes met with the same grim note and a silent nod followed.
A large door to their right seemed to be the destination as the two were told to stop and the door was opened. The droid holding Gabriel’s saber had disengaged it and stowed it somewhere on it’s form. Either way it wouldn’t be much good to him at the moment anyway; not until he knew who his captor was and what they wanted. He allowed his piercing eyes to scan the room as he entered, though instantly they fell on one thing, which he was sure Locke was focused on as well.
“...Jazen..." Gabriel’s voice was sounded barely above a whisper as he looked at the limp form of the boy hanging by the same repulsers as he had been minutes earlier. “Easy Locke,” Gabriel stated softly, feeling his companion’s emotions swell. “He’s alive. While the fact was true, it was hardly reassurance. The two Jedi were led to similar contraptions as what Jazen was hooked up to, and placed in repulser captivity once more. The three found themselves all standing with arms outstretched upwards and legs pulled downward and kept together.
Gabriel glanced at Locke who seemed to now be fixated on the door as though he was awaiting someone. One thing was for sure in Gabriel’s mind: either they were all in for the longest ride of their lives, or it was going to be one hell of a battle to freedom. Either way, it wasn’t going to be easy, and wouldn’t be fun.
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Jazen
Beelzaboot
1,617 posts
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Rocking from the Great White North
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last online Apr 20, 2022 19:46:47 GMT -5
Master
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May 27, 2010 16:37:33 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on May 27, 2010 16:37:33 GMT -5
A flutter in his mind stirred Jazen but he remained out to the world. That flutter however, grew louder until it was a pounding inside his head. Only after he allowed the flutter to reach him did he recognize what it was and from where it was coming from. "Locke!" Jazen's eyes snapped open at his master's sudden presence in the Force and his eyes darted left and right to pinpoint where it was coming from. Something was dulling his senses but his bond with his master was strong enough to still be felt and soon Jazen's eyes settled on the door in front of him. His master's presence was closing, along with several others. He couldn't focus as much on the others; he was barely able to count the number of them approaching. One of them had a familiar feel and after it got much closer, Jazen knew it was Gabriel. So all of them had gotten caught huh? That made the situation even more unsettling. If all of them were caught, how were they to escape? Glancing at the devices holding him in place, Jazen saw what he had seen before; a repulsor field, powered by four individual points that were located at directly across from his hands and feet. He could barely move his head, let alone any other part of his body. Perhaps if he used the Force to try and break on the emitters free or overload it from the inside. Or pick something up and smash it into one?
He was in the process of searching for something to move with his mind, like his lightsaber, when he actually heard the footsteps of the group approaching. Snapping his eyes towards the door, Jazen tensed his body, hoping that he could slam the attackers against the wall with the Force, giving Locke and Gabriel time to free themselves. He didn't get the chance. Just as the group was about to enter, someone jabbed him in the back with something through the field. Jazen bit his lip to keep from crying out as his entire body was zapped by lord knows how many volts. The bolts vanished quickly, obviously done to make sure he didn't try anything to the entering group. Well, plan succeeded...for now. Trying to catch his breath, Jazen watched as Locke and Gabriel entered the room, followed by their attackers plus one droid, who held Gabriel at lightsaber point. After a few moments, both elder Jedi were strapped into similar units on either side of him, facing their kidnappers. One of them motioned towards Jazen and for a second, Jazen was free from the repulsor field, his body falling the short distance to the ground. He tried to move as soon as he landed but the same jolt that had stunned him before got him again, leaving him completely helpless as they moved him in front of Locke and Gabriel. Grabbing long cables hanging from the walls, they soon had him sealed up again, primitive but strong shackles around his wrists and ankles. The men took up positions around the room, several of them armed and for a second, Jazen was sure he glanced a lightsaber. The one that remained close to him stayed silent for a moment, then spoke to Jazen.
"Tell me Jedi. Why have you come here?"
Jazen remained silent, instead shrugging as if he didn't have a clue what he was talking about. He met his master's eyes for a moment, looking to signal him to try and remove the shackles with the Force. He was about to try himself when the man's fist slammed into his gut with superhuman force. Jazen gagged as the air left his lungs. The injury he had gotten earlier was still there and the punch had re awoken the pain he had forgotten. He weazed as his body took in heavy heaves in an attempt to regain the lost air. Just as it started to flow back in, the man hit him again, harder this time. He waited till Jazen had almost regained his oxygen again to repeat the act once more, only this time he slammed his boot into Jazen's stomach. This time, Jazen heaved and hacked up a small amount of blood, the injury inside getting worse from this treatment. He slumped in the shackles but they prevented him from even falling to his knees. Gasping for air, he shot a look at the man, who put his bearded face close to Jazen's for a moment, grinning. He backed away quickly though and spoke again.
"Actually, we already knew why you were here. You came, just like we predicated you would. Now, your gonna tell us all about the Jedi, including the temples defenses and how many occupy it daily. Refuse and well....I'm pretty sure you get the idea. Now, speak Jedi."
Jazen hung there for a moment longer, heaving the last few breaths of air he needed to at least stand. Spitting a wade of blood from his mouth at the man's feet, Jazen smiled.
"Sorry, my hearing's not so good. Could you repeat the question, only this time try not to sound like a Gungan baby? Maybe ater I pick the stupid and whining out of it, then Ill be able to make sense o what you said."
It was an obvious insult. Gungan babies made some rather annoying sounds most of their young life. Jazen had just implied that the man's words were as pointless as the one's they emitted through their flapping gums and that he was an idiot for even asking them. Jazen was prepared for another blow to the gut. The man, however, contained his building rage and nodded to one of the other men. The man went behind Jazen, just outside of his sight range. Something crackled behind him and for a second, Jazen was unsure as it what the man was doing. The familiar hum of a lightsaber springing to life a second later told him what he was preparing. Before Jazen could even try and spin to see the man, something skimmed his upper arm, sending burning pain throughout his body. The smell of cauterized flesh filled his smell and he bit through the pain long enough to see the small cut the man had made on his body. While he was focused on that, the shot to the stomach came, followed swiftly by a heavy blow to his back, then a knee back into his wounded stomach. Jazen slumped, still biting back his urge to scream out in pain. He glared at the man through tearing eyes, a look no Jedi should ever cast someone. A smack to the face took that look away though.
"Well then, looks like we are in for a long night. Better make sure this is on first then."
With that, the man put something around Jazen's chest, feeling each prick as four small nodes were inserted on his upper chest, circling his heart. Jazen didn't recognize what the device was but it didn't seem to be doing anything right now. He just hoped it wouldn't explode his heart. He glanced at Locke again, his eyes telling him to hurry. Jazen didn't know it yet but his eyes also held one more thing in their gaze; a cry for help.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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May 27, 2010 23:22:32 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on May 27, 2010 23:22:32 GMT -5
Relief broke through the pain that filled Locke's body when he saw Gabriel. It was good to know that his fellow Knight was alright. Well, 'alright' was a relative term, since Gabe still looked a bit worse for wear and he was being held at saber point by some droid. He looked better than Locke felt, though, and the main whimpering on the ground while holding his ankle wasn't lost on the Investigator. A weak smile and a nod were all Locke could manage when his grey eyes met Gabe's blue, and the two were carried on to wherever it was their captives intended to take them.
As they went on, Locke felt Jazen's presence in the Force. Locke was far too battered and tired from his beating to use the Force effectively, but the bond he shared with his student was still strong enough to let him know that Jazen was okay. For now. It was a small ray of hope, but Locke's knowledge of what was coming--along with the knowledge that there was nothing he could do to stop it--quickly moved the thunderhead of fear back to block it. All three of them were going to be in for a very long, very hard captivity.
If any bit of that beam of hope remained, it was shattered completely when they entered the room. Without even really having to look, Locke's eyes honed in on Jazen, and when he saw the boy, he heart froze. Fear, despair, anger; all of these things rose up with such force within Locke that he nearly fell to his knees. Gabriel must have sensed Locke anguish, because he offered some supporting words, though they did little to ease the pain in Locke's heart. Locke only looked at Gabriel for a moment, and for a moment, his terror would be visible. He didn't know if Gabriel knew that Jazen was the one that was going to be tortured, but he knew. And knowing he couldn't do anything to stop it cut him more deeply than any blade could have.
The captors didn't care, though. The two Knights were herded into their shackles, and Jazen released from his to be transferred to another. Locke had to turn his eyes away every time the stun baton went to Jazen's back, as he could not bear to watch it. But if he thought that was bad, the next few minutes were heart-wrenching.
He could not tear his eyes away from the things that were done to Jazen once the interrogation began, even though he desperately wanted to. Jazen was hit again and again, until blood came from his mouth, and then he was cut, and hit some more. The pain in Locke's heart swelled as he was forced to watch, and he struggled against his bonds, though he knew he could do nothing. However, he was pushed near to the point of breaking when Jazen looked to him. Locke could not know what the look Jazen gave him was supposed to be, but he saw a desperate plea for Locke's help--something that Locke could not give. Silent tears began to flow from his eyes as his shame mounted, and in his shame, he broke eye contact with Jazen and looked away.
"Gabriel," he said weakly, fighting to keep back his tears, "please... I... I don't know what to do." Despair filled his eyes as he brought them up to look at the other Knight. "I'm supposed to be his Master, but I can't... I can't do anything like this. I-"
"So he is yours," the voice said. Locke turned his head to see the man emerge from the shadows, in a black cloak with a deep cowl that hid his face. An unmistakable metal cylinder hung from his belt: the hilt of a lightsaber. A hand went up to pull his hood down as he stepped into the light, revealing the face of a middle-aged man. The brown hair that must have once thickly coated his head was falling out, and what little was left was kept neatly trimmed and short. His eyes were the unmistakable yellow of the Dark Side's taint. "I thought so. Poor boy, being stuck with a master like you. You can't even protect yourself. How do you expect to protect him?"
Locke narrowed his eyes at the man when he came to a stop near Jazen. That wasn't the first time Locke heard words like that; four years ago, a Dark Jedi by the name of Nomak Krell spoke very similar words to Locke, before he proceeded to defeat the--at the time--new Knight in combat. Memories of that encounter, along with Locke's anger at the Dark Jedi before him made his lip curl up in a snarl. "Leave him alone, or I swear I'll rip yo-"
Locke's threat was turned into a pained gasp when the Dark Jedi reached up and yanked Jazen head back by pulling on his padawan braid. "You won't be ripping anything out, Jedi. You're far out of your league." With that, he let the coils that he kept around his presence fall, and his strength in the Force made Locke's eyes go wide. He was strong. Very strong. "Ah, now you see it." The man smiled a twisted smile, and lightning started to crackle around his hand. "You can stop this, you know. If you don't want him to endure anymore suffering, then answer my questions in his stead."
Temptation was a curious thing. Normally, Locke would have been livid, but the thought of being responsible, even if indirectly, for more of Jazen's suffering had him second-guessing himself. That second guessing didn't last long, and he shook his head.
"Pity," the Dark Jedi said before a wave of lightning crashed into Jazen's back. Locke's wordless cry was almost covered by the sound of the lightning and the man's laughter.
The Force came to Locke before he knew what he was doing; he didn't know what he would do, but he had to do something to protect Jazen. The chance never came, though. The lightning halted, and an instant later, the man's mind slammed against Locke's with so much force that it overwhelmed his mental defenses and his grasp on the Force slipped away. Now, telepathy was an area that Locke was actually fairly skilled in; it was his second strongest area behind Telekinesis. However, he didn't engage in telepathic fighting often, though he was good enough at it. Even then, the Investigator knew how to keep strong defenses around his mind, so the fact that the Dark Jedi could break through them so easily with brute strength alone spoke volumes of the caliber of his foe.
The Dark Jedi moved quickly, using the Force to influence the part of Locke's brain that felt pain. Locke's back suddenly came afire with the sensation of being lashed by a whip over and over again. None of it was real, of course, except for the pain, but had the desired effect. He yelled out from the surprise of it, and when the Dark Jedi was done, Locke's body was wracked with silent sobs, both from the pain and his grief at what was happening to Jazen. The Dark Jedi only smiled smugly before punching Jazen in the kidney and moving to stand before him.
"I wonder... What would it take to break you boy?" The look he gave Locke made it evident that question was more for the Knight than Jazen. Locke met the man's gaze, through his tears. As he did, one thing became evident: though his soul was filled with grief and his body wracked with pain, he would not give in. Neither would Gabriel, or Jazen; he knew it. If these Dark Jedi wanted to play a game, they'd find it a much harder one than they thought to play.
And if one of the Jedi could get free... That Dark Jedi would be in for a world of hurt. But for now, there was little to be done but settle in for a very, very long night.
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WWFF
The clockwork hampster
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last online Aug 1, 2013 12:48:43 GMT -5
Padawan
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Jun 20, 2010 15:17:42 GMT -5
Post by WWFF on Jun 20, 2010 15:17:42 GMT -5
Gabriel couldn’t take it. He would have given anything to take Jazen’s place, though he oculdn’t and nor could Locke. This was Jazen’s duty from here out, and Locke’s weakening was going to make it harder for the boy; this much was sure. Locke was under too much emotional turmoil to focus on anything but ripping this dark Jedi’s heart from his chest and shoving it down his throat; a though which had crossed Gabriel’s mind moment’s prior, though any attempt would be futile. It was with this understanding that Gabriel’s mind managed to devise what he hoped would be a good plan.
“Locke… do you trust me?” his voice escaped the side of his mouth as he spoke barely above a whisper. No response came from the man to his left, which Gabriel took as a sign that he didn’t have it in him anymore to respond. Gabriel’s eyes snapped back and forth from the dark Jedi and back to Jazen over and oven as the torture continued; he was unable to tear his eyes away from the scene, though as a sinister smile spread across the dark one’s face, and the saber began to lower once more toward the boy’s flesh, Gabriel’s eyes snapped open and his voice burst from his stomach and out his mouth.
“Stoppit, damn you, old man!” his voice filled with not so false anger, and hidden deception; though it wasn’t picked up on, it seemed the man was far too interested in being called an old man. His face snapped from the boy and to Gabriel, where he repeated the words. Vanity, Gabriel had been banking on it; a common fault with the fallen. Gabriel nodded and motioned to Jazen as he spoke. “What you want wont come from the boy… if you stop this… I’ll tell you.” Protest jumped from Locke as he heard Gabriel’s proposition. He allowed the words of protest to subside from his comrade before he continued with his head hung.
“It all starts with an old saying. Hey, are you listening damnit?” The man’s attention had begun to stray, apparently expecting some sort of deception; and rightfully so. As Gabriel’s deep voice filled the chamber for the man to hear, the Jedi had felt his concentration slip from the boy, Locke, and the force. Gabriel’s plan was coming to fruition. “…it starts with an old saying: calm is like a sleeping Reek. Easily disturbed, and when it is lost, fear grips it… As he said the word ‘grip’ his right hand snapped shut this was seen as an emphasis on his words, though in reality, he had begun to mask his force signature, as to keep it neutral in feel, and began to reach to the boy’s shackles; the gip was his hold on the chain. “…and where fear in present, there is not calm, only danger. A calm Reek causes no harm to others, however, a scared Reek could kill a thousand. Again, as he said the words ‘kill a thousand’ he gestured with his hand in a dual outward wipe fashion; the chain had weakened as snapped from the pull he had begun to put on the metal alloy as he spoke. When he wiped his hands, the chain was broken, though still held in place by Gabriel.
The dark Jedi, confused, and obviously seeing that this ‘saying’ had nothing to do with the questioning at hand brought the burning saber blade to the Jedi’s throat. Gabriel self he head even though it was inches from his flesh. “Is this a game to you boy?” His mouth curled once more into a savage snarl as he drew the saber slowly toward Gabriel’s abdomen.
“Not currently… no… but I would advise you. When you unleash an angry Reek… you have to deal with the consequences; and they’re never pretty. The man obviously thinking Gabriel was talking about himself didn’t see the man’s hands open slightly, as he let out a deep guttural laugh. “Unleash the Reek… Jazen.” it was one thing which Gabriel thought he would never do, condone the use of anger; though often one must fight fire with fire, and a dance on the edge only helps define the line. He just hoped that the was making the right decision, as he released the shackles and allowed Jazen's form to drop.
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Jazen
Beelzaboot
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Jun 20, 2010 17:56:47 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on Jun 20, 2010 17:56:47 GMT -5
Jazen had been hurt before. He'd been exhausted to the point where his body refused to go on. Alderaan wasn't that long ago and the desperation he had felt that day, the hopelessness that had come at every turn was still fresh in his mind. And in the face of what he was dealing with now made that day seem like a walk on the beach. That day he had felt pain; today he felt pure agony. On Alderaan, even in the face of utter despair, there had been hope. Here there was none to be seen, no last minuting saving from his Master or an outside force. And every time he tried to search the Force for an answer, for a way out of this, it was squashed beneath another blinding jolt of pain.
In the hours that followed their capture, Jazen was hit with just about every form of torture in the book. They hammered him with their fists, their feet, blunt objects of every shape and size. Small knives made little slices in his flesh, followed by the pouring of some strange liquid that made the cuts burn like a raging fire. And those were the simple pains. A barbed whip cracked several times, leaving long, bleeding cuts in Jazen's back. His body convulsed and seized when they sent arcing bolts of Force Lightning screeching throughout him. And the searing heat of a lightsaber left small, blackened patches of skin all over his body. The worst of the torture came from the probes into his mind. Normally, one would not be able to influence a strong willed person. To try and force mind influence on someone like that threatened to destroy the very mind they were trying to influence. And Jazen's mind was on the verge of breaking.
By the time they got to interrogating Locke, using the further torture of Jazen to threaten information out of him, Jazen had gone numb. He had no more cries of pain to unleash, no words able to to escape his parched lips. The pain had brought him to the verge of passing out, his body limp and weightless. His head slumped down against his chest and for a moment, his life decided to expire. A massive jolt snapped his body rigid for a moment and Jazen's body gulped in air before going limp again. Apparently, the device lodged in his chest was a defibrillator of sorts, surging electricity to restart his heart whenever it stopped. By his count, this was the fifth time it had to activate. Whatever conversation took place between Locke and the man was lost before it even reached Jazen's ears, his eyes dull and without life. Even the massive shock of Force Lightning Jazen received did nothing to stir his broken mind.
When Gabriel took charge, bringing the force of the interrogators wrath away from Jazen, Jazen barely noticed. The absence of the constant torture slowly begun to dawn on Jazen and for the first time since he had gone silent, he was filled something he couldn't explain. No, he could explain it. It was a boiling eruption within him, barely contained by the body it was held within. The feeling was rage, unbiased rage. He wanted to hurt those who hurt him, who had hurt his Master and his fellow Jedi. The thoughts that started to grow within his mind were something no Jedi should ever think about, let alone consider. But a young mind, still fragile to the workings of the world, was easy to influence and slip. And right now, Jazen didn't care. He wanted to make them pay, WOULD make them pay, provided he found a way to get free. The growing hate within him reawakened his senses, drinking in the pain that he'd been blocking. Just in time to hear Gabriel's words. In time to feel the Force at work and the sound of his restraints slipping free. And as Gabriel's final words slipped from his mouth and the chains holding him dropped free, that volcano that was his his emotions erupted. And with violent force.
Jazen's eyes snapped to the nearest holo-droid, eying the lightsaber it held. It wasn't Jazen's and he didn't care. The saber flew to him, snapping to life in his hands, the bright orange of Locke's blade lighting the room with its glow. The droid that held the saber smashed into the wall, slammed there by a violent push from Jazen with the Force. The other two droids met the same fate, the sabers they held clattering to the floor as the droids slumped to the ground in several pieces. Jazen's hate filled eyes turned then to his tormentors, his lightsaber flying to his hand. Freeing himself with his saber, he flung Locke's saber at the nearest one of them, catching the man on a turn. Locke's saber dug into the man's chest, his expression one of both shock and disbelief. As Locke's saber died off, the man hit the floor with a sickening thud, his eyes still wide in confusion. The other Dark Jedi spun to Jazen, his lightsaber snapping to life in his hands, its crimson glow countering Jazen's blue blade as it dropped onto him.
Whatever the man had been expecting in terms of skill from the young padawan, Jazen was quick to exceed those expectations. Backed by his rage and hate, Jazen's blows came faster, stronger than ever before. And something else made his strikes more efficient; the release of restraints. Jedi did not kill, aimed to disarm their foes in battle. Or tried to avoid battle altogether, looking for a peaceful solution to situations. Jazen had taken away that limit, his mind filled with only the thoughts of slaying the ones who caused him pain. And that gave him a strength no one could counter. His foe tried, fended off Jazen's first few strikes, then cried out in pain as Jazen's saber felled him. Jazen's eyes turned on his final foe, the older man who had led this little venture. Anger seethed off him in waves, his breath ragged from the torture. But he never felt stronger than he did right now. The man turned to Jazen, a cocky grin filling his face. Jazen grinned too...at the thought of what he was going to do to him instead.
"Not bad little warrior. You've embraced the very thing you mock us for. Why not join me instead of giving up your life, to use this newly gained power to make yourself stronger? With me to guide you, you could become a very powerful warrior indeed. All you have to do, is slay these two Jedi here. Then, you will be free."
Jazen's face went cold for moment, his eyes drifting to Locke and Gabriel. And for a brief moment, a very brief moment, Jazen considered the offer. Then his eyes locked back on the man and he hissed at him. Locke's saber and Gabriel's sprung to life and slashed into the devices holding them, dropping them to the ground in front of them. And then he launched himself at the man, who rose his saber to defend himself. Instead of striking out with his saber, Jazen slammed the man against the wall with the Force and then did something he didn't think he could do. As the man tried to rise to his feet, another wave of hate and anger slammed the man into the wall. He repeated the maneuver when the man chose to rise again, this time slamming several of the items in the room into him as well. The droid's shattered remains, the table the torture tools had been placed upon, even the remains of his shackles pelted the man, forcing him to shield himself from the objects. Then he added a personal touch. The lightsaber of the man he had just killed launched itself towards the older man, igniting as it did. It dug into his shoulder and the man roared in pain. Jazen grinned in response to his pleasure. He heard something laughing and assuming it was the man, slammed him with another Force Push. Then he realized it was he who was laughing. And it filled him with endless joy. Motion behind him broke his torment of the defenseless Dark Jedi and he spun to face his new threat, lashing out with another burst of hate tainted Force. If only he could see past his rage to see who he was attacking, Jazen might have realized the mistake he was about to make. Or realize that his stunned opponent wasn't as hurt as he thought.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jun 21, 2010 21:46:55 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jun 21, 2010 21:46:55 GMT -5
“Locke… do you trust me?”
Locke didn't understand why Gabriel asked the question. Of course he trusted Gabriel. They were brothers, in arms, if not blood. Perhaps if Locke's mind weren't so racked by emotional pain and his body so weary from the beating he'd received earlier, he might have noted that Gabriel obviously had something in mind. But Locke wasn't in good condition. For the life of him, all he wanted was to be able to collapse onto the ground and sleep. Or to rip that Dark Jedi's head off with his own hands, or make him watch as he pulled his own heart from his chest.
But I can't. Those three words resounded again and again in his mind. He couldn't do anything to that Dark Jedi from where he was, he couldn't free himself from his bonds... He couldn't save Jazen from his torture. All he could do was watch, helpless and hopeless. His body sagged against the bonds that held him up as the realization settled, pushing down on his shoulders like some great weight.
What happened to you? some small voice whispered. Look at you, hanging here, defeated. What happened to the fire, to the will to go on? Truth be told, Locke couldn't answer that question. But as he hung there, wondering what was so wrong with him, Gabriel took the reins, and called a challenge to the Dark Jedi. Locke wasn't really paying attention at first, until Gabriel made an offer.
“What you want wont come from the boy… if you stop this… I’ll tell you.”
Shock painted Locke's face as his head shot up and turned to Gabriel. What was the other Knight trying to pull? "What are you doing?" he asked in a pained whisper. "You can't be serious, right? Right? Gabriel please, we can't tell him what he wants to know."
"Do you trust me?"
The words echoed again in Locke's memory. Did he trust Gabe? He didn't think Gabriel would divulge into Temple secrets--not so easily--but what was the man planning? It was obvious that his comrade had something in mind, though. For the time being, Locke would have to trust him; there wasn't any other choice.
And so he watched, as Gabriel carried out his plan. As Gabriel worked, distracting the Dark Jedi with words, while slowly weakening the shackles that held Jazen, Locke felt his resolve--and a touch of shame--start to grow. Here he'd been, feeling for all the world like he was helpless to do anything. He'd been near the edge of just wanting to give up. It was all so different than what he was used to, and he couldn't have known that Jazen being put into so much pain, for no other reason than for the sake of causing pain, would be so incredibly difficult for him.
But he was not some simpering child, to be broken at the first sign of trouble. No, he was a Jedi Knight. And beyond that, he was Locke Nemsee; he didn't bow easily. And so, if these Dark Jedi wanted to fight, he'd give them a fight, but he, along with the rest of his companions would get out of this. One way or another...
"Unleash the Reek... Jazen"
Wait, what? Locke was brought of his contemplation, and looked up at the sound of a body falling to the ground. And then everything went wrong.
Well, at first Locke thought everything was okay. Jazen dispatched the first Dark Jedi, catching him by surprise. The second, who looked to be near his level, fell to him after a short duel. That was when he noticed it. Something was wrong, in the Force. Something about Jazen was different. Logically, with all the damage that had been done to his body, and all of the pain he'd been put through, Jazen should have been passed out on the floor, Jedi or no. But he wasn't. A wildness pervaded his aura, filling him with an energy like none Locke had ever seen in him before. And worst of all, to Locke's senses, it reeked of the Dark Side. Anger poured off of the young man in waves. Anger at his captors. Anger that was filled with the desire to cause them some of the same pain he'd experienced for so long.
The lightsabers of the two Knights came alive, and they were both dropped to the ground, free from their bonds. "Something is wrong," Locke said to Gabriel as he pulled his lightsaber to him. The sound of laughter caught his attention, and he looked up to see that it was Jazen laughing that twisted laugh. That dark laugh. He felt a bead of sweat roll down his bare back, feeling for all the world like the icy finger of some dark demon, taunting him with the knowledge of what was going on.
Jazen was flirting with the Dark Side. He'd have to do something about it. Locke was not enough of an idealist to the think that words alone would solve the situation, hoped with his entire being that it would not come to a fight. But he would do what had to be done. It would hurt him more than he could say to be forced against his student, but if that was what it took to snap Jazen back to good sense, then that was what he'd have to do.
His grey eyes flashed over to the Dark Jedi, who was smiling, of all things, and then over to Gabriel. "You take the Dark Jedi," he said in a voice that, while quiet, indicated that what he was saying was not up to be argued. "I'll deal with Jazen." He wasted little time pushing himself to his feet, and preparing himself mentally for what he knew was coming.
The Force flowed into him as he walked calmly toward Jazen, renewing some of the strength he'd lost since their captivity began. More than that, it was so that he could be ready for whatever might be coming. Jazen either heard or felt his approach, and turned around, lashing out with a blast of the Force. Locke felt it coming before it struck, but let the blow land, hoping that it would show Jazen that he meant no harm. It pushed him back, and he retreated moving to draw Jazen off from near the Dark Jedi. He did not release his hold on the Force though. Locke would not suffer more attacks from Jazen unanswered.
"Jazen," he said calmly, firmly, "I know you're in a lot of pain right now, but you've got to stand down. Please, Jazen, for your own good, stand down."
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WWFF
The clockwork hampster
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last online Aug 1, 2013 12:48:43 GMT -5
Padawan
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Jun 29, 2010 15:57:02 GMT -5
Post by WWFF on Jun 29, 2010 15:57:02 GMT -5
Gabriel’s form hit the ground in a roll as his restraints were deactivated. His hand shot out behind him, and a moment later one of his saber’s was buzzing to life in his hand. He remained in a low crouch, one hand in front of himself, fingers spread in a balanced posture, saber humming and extending outward. Locke’s word hit his ears and were only answered by a grim nod as he eyes the dark Jedi readying himself before the young knight. He was wounded, Gabriel knew the fight wouldn’t be what it should have been, but never the less, this man wasn’t about to back down. It was a heady pride thing for these dark types. For some reason or another they saw themselves as untouchable; a fact which Jazen, and now Gabriel would teach this one the error in this thought.
Gabriel’s large form moved from his beastly crouch, his legs pushing him to stand in a readied position as he summoned his second saber hilt, as took a step side ways, allowing both arm to merely hang at his side, blades burning brightly and hanging only centimeters from the floor. He tightened his grip on the hilt of both sabers, locking his wrists into place and bringing orange blades to a near parallel line with the ground. Gabriel cut a most fearsome image. Dried blood running from the corners of his eyes and ears, dirt and grime caked on to his body from being dragged about while unconscious. Though, more frightening than ass this was the look in Gabriel’s eyes. When he didn’t realize what that he had unleashed a bit of his own Reek. His eyes burned with such intensity, and loathing of this man who had harmed the Padawan.
Gabriel’s form sank into his brawler posture, though when battle was upon the man, he always seemed to develop an even more threatening posture, like that of an animal; a predator. It was amazing how an impending battle could change the small things. The way he held his hands – tight but not too tight as to cut mobility; the way his body curved – slightly bent forward weight on the balls of his feet; the way his mind was already focused on each move of the battle – seeing each motion of his body in a segmented still-frame draft of what he knew to be inevitable. Exploring at least three possible destinations to this conflict, as well as which saber form to compensate with if he should lose a weapon, these were the thoughts running through his head; though in the end, it all mattered what direction the force would direct him in.
No words were exchanged between the too, both having equally grim looks on their faces as their eyes met. Gabriel’s deep seeded sense of honor made him hold until his opponent was prepared, and then further as he awaited the first move of the battle. While Gabriel hated being on the defensive, he was never the first to actively attack – or rarely anyway. It was then that his concentration was stolen momentarily as he heard the sound of sabers clash and deflect only once; that was when the attack came.
The dark jedi charged in quickly, making a stab attempt, Gabriel was quick to deflect with his left right saber, carrying his weight through as he rolled across the mans still traveling form, bringing his left pommel across hard, sending the pommel crashing hard into the beck of the man’s skull, which sent him sprawling forward before turning about himself and lounging once more in a thrust; only to find it deflected again by one of the orange sabers; Gabriel wasn’t being as kind this time however and slashed hard with the other saber which the dark jedi was lucky enough to deflect and launch an attack of his own.
Gabriel out sized the man, he was far broader, though about an inch shorter; and while this man was no doubt strong, Gabriel was stronger. The dark one stepped back and brought his saber down in a vertical over head arch. Which Gabriel blocked by crossing his sabers in front of his face, in stead of shoving the dark one off immediately, he decided to plant a force enhanced foot in his chest, which sent him soaring backward several feet. Though this one was full of surprised, as Gabriel charged ahead to hopefully get him before the man was able to regain his footing, the man did just that, only as he did he summoned one of his fallen guard’s blasters. If Gabriel had been any slower the bolt would have landed a kill shot in his chest, though a quick movement sideways caused him to catch the full force in the front of his right shoulder, putting him in a spiral, and temporarily deadening his arm. He didn’t stop in he power forward toward the dark jedi, much to his chagrin. The dark one grasped his saber in both hands as he lifted it above his head to chop downwards at Gabriel once more; though he didn’t chop down, Instead he slashed across at Gabriel’s wounded arm, only to find his power strike to be foiled by Gabriel’s good arm, which Gabriel circled and sent the opposing saber around in a high arch before circling once more, this time the smell of burnt flesh billowed up as the soft thud could be heard.
The agonized cry filled the room as the man looked at the stump where his hand and wrist had once been. The man dropped to his knees in front of the young knight, who brought his saber inches form the mans throat. Gabriel’s blood stained face crunched into a sinister snarl as he looked at the pathetic excuse of a human at his feet. The pain this man had caused, what gave him the right? And now look at him. Closer to death than he realized, sobbing over his missing extremity. He didn’t deserve to breathe. Gabriel was so caught up in his own thoughts he hadn’t realized that Locke had managed get Jazen down from his frenzy and was watching. The young knight felt a tickle in his mind, which he ignored, not knowing it was Locke attempting to warn his against his emotions of anger. Gabriel’s saber lifted slightly toward the man’s throat as he stood teasing the man with death. Though somehow he couldn’t bring himself to simply kill this man. How simple it would be to move this saber an inch forward and through his neck. It was that moment that his mind began clearing and he realized that Jazen’s signature was clearing, and Locke’s as well. He felt the eyes of his fellow knight on him. His eyes hardened as he pursed his lips; his hand gripped his hilt harder as he allowed the words to exit his mouth.
“I want him dead Locke… I know you do too… Why do we never get our own justice?” His saber zipped off as he rolled he turned his back on the man and began to walk toward his second saber hilt. He place the one saber on the back on his belt before reaching with his good arm and grabbing his second hilt, placing it on the back of his opposite hip. His left hand strayed up to his shoulder to feel the wound. A nice hole had been burnt through his tunics as well as his flesh. He crunched his face into a snarl and spat; as the wave of pain coursed through his body.
Gabriel studied Locke, the tears welling in the man's eyes, as he look held the crumpled form of his shattered pupil. Gabriel longed to apologize to Locke, but something in him knew, that this was an inevitable thing, and that Locke would some how, someday understand. Sorrow swept over him as he saw what this brush with the dark side had done to both of his comrades, and forgetting his rage, he reached out to both of their minds, attempting to comfort them, and maybe ease some of the pain. Never-the-less, he remained slate faced, as he piercing eyes met with Locke's.
“Question him if you want, my friend. All I want to know is where we are, and how we can leave. There’s too much evil here.” By now he had paced back to Locke and Jazen, though his eyes only met with Locke’s as he spoke. He looked down at Jazen with a nod. “Now you know, Jazen... there is nothing more frightening than being stuck in a torrent of yourself. I'm sorry, I failed to help you sooner.” Gabriel had his learning experience on Rhen Var, and he hoped that Jazen had just experienced his own. He continued past Locke, and awaited his friend’s next move. Again the emotions of guild flooded him mind, though she managed to hold them at bay, until he had time alone.
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Jazen
Beelzaboot
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Rocking from the Great White North
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last online Apr 20, 2022 19:46:47 GMT -5
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Jun 29, 2010 18:43:50 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on Jun 29, 2010 18:43:50 GMT -5
Jazen heard the the sound emitting from the man he had just put down, felt his power re surging in the Force. The side of him that had embraced the pain, had used it to fuel his revenge, wanted to turn and put the man down for good, to make him suffer. But before he could, one of the two he had freed, the larger one, launched himself at his prey. Jazen snarled, angry at someone for intruding. He was about ready to move on them both when he heard the voice of another. Jazen's eyes snapped around, their frenzied gaze locking onto Locke. And for a brief, brief moment, he froze. Within that moment, a battle all its own raged within the confines of Jazen's mind.
His rational side, the side that had understood what he had just done was wrong, recognized the man. Locke. Master Locke. His friend and mentor. Images of their first meeting, of the missions they had undertook together so far, propelled themselves to the forefront of his mind. Locke had been hurt, just like he had. If not from physical torture than from mental, having had to watch his pupil suffer and know there was nothing he could do. Locke's calm words woke this side of him and for a moment, Jazen's body calmed as a response, his shoulders relaxing and his saber arm drifting the still lit blade down gently.
As his rational side brought him back to reality, it also brought on the pain his body was in again. And with it came his other side. It slammed back into the battle with a raging force like no other. It remembered the pain, the anger. It wasn't that Locke hadn't been able to do anything to help; he hadn't TRIED to do anything to help. He had sat there, watched and listened the the horrors they had bestowed upon his pupils body and done nothing. Resentment and betrayal flooded into Jazen, its effect on him so great that Locke's visual image blurred. The whole room blurred in his eyes, until the image of the being in front of him was now one of a darker Locke, changed to match the view Jazen's pain was crafting. He was darker, not in color, but in his presence. His face was snaked into a wicked glare, his grin twisted and joyous. He laughed, cackled at Jazen, mocking him with words Jazen could not understand. But their intent was clear to him and it only drove the spike deeper.
"You watched them hurt me. You watched them hurt me and you did NOTHING!!! You simply stared at me as they stung me, as they beat and stabbed me. You could have done something, ANYTHING, to try and reduce what was happening. But you looked away, looked away from your responsibility. You let this happen, no....you wanted this to happen. And now you'll pay, just like they did. You will pay."
His entire body flexed, surging with the power his hate gave him. His tired muscles ripped, his exhaustion faded. His breaths were no longer shallow, were strong and hissing. His face twisted, a scowl ripping into life on it, deep and dark. He squinted at Locke and flexed the fingers of his bladeless hand, felt the dark energies of the Force flowing through them. His grip tightened on the lightsaber hilt in his hand and with a roar of anger, he lunged at Locke, both hands suddenly on the blade's hilt. The blade, icy blue to match Jazen's sudden coldness, swung down hard at the Knight. Driven by rage and instinct, Jazen would slam his blade down towards the betrayer, then come at him in an onslaught of raining blows, all backed by the newfound power he had found. This man would fall, just like the other two, just like the one behind him would fall soon. And they very thought filled him with bliss.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jun 29, 2010 22:51:33 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jun 29, 2010 22:51:33 GMT -5
Locke was silent as his friend, his student, his brother tore into him. The words that Jazen spoke with such hatred, and even more, such conviction cut Locke deeper than he could ever know. For once though, Locke gave no outward sign of the agony the boy was putting him in; he only stared, slate grey eyes meeting Jazen's fiery purple levelly. Forgive me, Jazen, he thought as he sighed solemnly. Forgive me for failing you. Jazen couldn't hear of course, and simply continued along, ramming his dagger of words into Locke's chest again and again, without pity and without remorse. Forgive me for what I'm going to have to do.
There was a method that Locke's master had instilled in him for situations when he needed to be as detached as possible from the chaos that might be raging around him, or even the chaos that could be tearing his heart apart. He didn't want to fight Jazen, but even as the boy spoke, he knew that was what things would come to. And so he drew deeply on the Force, giving himself over to it completely to enter an almost trance-like state. It wasn't a trance, because Locke was fully aware of himself and of the world around him, but at the same time, he wasn't. One could say that, in way, he'd taken the emotional part of his mind and pushed it away, to be kept away safely behind barriers that protected the rest of his mind from it.
There is no emotion, there is peace.
Yes, peace was what he needed. There wasn't a doubt in Locke's mind that Jazen, fueled by his rage as he was, might continue trying to lash out at him, and those attacks would be much more devastating to Locke that any physical thing the boy could do. If Locke allowed that to happen, allowed his emotions to get in the way of doing what had to be done, then he'd constantly be on the edge of making a mistake; and here, even though Jazen would no doubt be pushing hard, he was still a padawan, and Locke a Knight. The odds were still heavily in Locke's favor; there was a reason he was the master, after all. But if he faltered, and allowed his feelings to become a stumbling block, then Jazen very well may grab the opportunity and end him.
"Is that really what you believe, Jazen?" Locke's face was a reflection of his voice; there was a determined set to his jaw, and there was steel in his eyes to match the steel in his voice. He said nothing more, and only shook his head in sorrow at the condition of the boy he'd come to know so well.
Jazen suddenly tensed, and Locke felt the Force flowing into the boy, giving him a renewed vigor to replace that which had been lost. Locke did the opposite, instead allowing himself to relax, and his muscles to loosen and limber up so that he could move deftly. He didn't have to call on in much to restore his energy; while none of the three Jedi were in a good condition, Jazen was surely far and away the worst, with the torture he'd been put through. Most of the torture Locke had been put through was mental, and came from Jazen's own suffering.
He's in some sort of Force enhanced rage, then, he thought as his orange blade came alive. Such rages weren't things Locke had encountered in person before, but he had an idea of how they worked, from study during his time as a padawan. It'll give him a boost for a while, but it can't last forever. It will be temporary. Locke brought his blade up and took on a stance--where he held himself loosely, ready to move in any direction--when Jazen started to move. As his student closed, he only muttered one phrase, just on the edge of hearing.
"Forgive me Jazen."
And then their fight began.
Jazen came in strong with his first strike, which was an downward slice that could split Locke from head to groin if it connected. Even though he was deep within the confines of his near-trance, Locke felt agony echoing across the surface of his mind; agony that his own student, empowered by the belief that he'd been betrayed, was making a move with every intention of killing him. Fortunately for Locke, the blow was slow in the way that two-handed strikes can be, and more than that, obvious enough to be seen coming from a mile away.
He stepped easily to the side, and shifted his blade down and to the side to parry Jazen's follow up. On and on their dance--the dance of two allies made enemies--went, and Locke calmly moved around, letting Jazen's blade slide off of his own. Heavy attacks, with a lot of aggression and emotion, he thought, still the teacher if ever there was one. Good for pressing, but his technique is faltering. It was to be expected, given the boy's state of mind. However, Locke couldn't allow Jazen to simply keep attacking until he wore himself out. Well, he could, but Jazen needed to be snapped out of his rage before he became locked into it, and that put time against Locke. He'd find a way, though. He could take advantage of Jazen's blind aggression, no doubt. Yes, that would be what he had to do.
Jazen suddenly thrust his blade forward at Locke's stomach, and Locke quickly turned to the side to allow the icy blade to slip through the space he'd occupied only a heartbeat prior. The dodge was narrow, and he could feel the warmth that radiated outward from the blade playing against the skin of his bare stomach. Surprise echoed across the walls of Locke's mind, but he continued on, moving to do what he had to do. His free hand struck out, quick as a snake, to grab the wrist of Jazen's saber hand and hold it still. At the same time, he leaned his weight forward, to slam his shoulder into Jazen's chest and push him back, to the wall behind them. Then he would go on to put his forearm up across the boy's chest and press his weight against it to hold him down.
"I'm going to tell you one last time, Jazen," Locke said, locking his hard eyes with the boy's. If his voice was steel before, it was something else now; something harder. "Stand. Down."
{Alright, WWFF, this is something that might take a few posts from both of us to get through until we're up to the point at the end of your post, so if you could hold off for just a bit, that would be lovely}
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Jazen
Beelzaboot
1,617 posts
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Rocking from the Great White North
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last online Apr 20, 2022 19:46:47 GMT -5
Master
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Jun 30, 2010 19:12:50 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on Jun 30, 2010 19:12:50 GMT -5
Jazen watched as Locke battled back, defending against each strike with the skill and precision he had come to respect his master for. No matter where the strike feel, Locke either skillfully evaded or parried it. He sent no returning blows though, instead retaining a defensive stance even as the onslaught continued. The world around him was fuzzy, as if something was obscuring Jazen's sight of them. The only thing that filled his view was Locke. But then, where was his assailant? Who was he fending of? Who struck with such rage and violence that Jazen could barely believe that his Master was holding him off so easily?
Something shot into view, extending far enough into the line of sight with Locke that Jazen was able to make it out. It was a blue lightsaber, as icy cold in appearance as the weather on Rhen Var. Was Locke fighting a Jedi? If he was, then who was it? Jazen tried to move his head to look for the attacker, but found his gaze could not leave Locke. And then it hit him. He was seeing through his eyes, through his body's eyes. The one Locke was fighting.....was him.
~~~~~~~~~~
Rage poured from Jazen as he unleashed his furious assualt upon the older Jedi, the dark side swelling like a balloon within him. Each failed strike, each deflected blow only fueled the growth of this balloon, pumping more and more life into it with each passing second. He had the advantage, he must have the advantage! His strikes were nothing like his weak blows from before; they were strong, unpredictable. He would win and he would make Locke suffer for allowing pain to be inflicted on him. His thrust at Locke's chest came within inches, INCHES, of taking him down that path. And he was ready to swing his blade to the side, to make him taste the sting of his pain.
But something, something from deep within him, chose that moment to rear its head. It stayed his hand for just a moment, sealed his muscles with its touch. Anger and disbelief slid across his face, which was soon replaced with a look of sudden pain. Locke, either already planning the move or simply taking advantage of Jazen's hesitation, grabbed the wrist of his saber arm, gripping with an iron-clad grip to lock it in place. Something heavy and solid slammed into Jazen then, his eyes snapping to see Locke tackling him with all the strength he could muster. He stumbled back, expecting to fall to the floor beneath them. He was in the process of bracing himself for it when the impact came much sooner than he had thought. But he wasn't on his back; rather something was pressed against it. Air left in a flood from his lungs as he made hard contact with the wall behind him. Rage once again poured into him, but the lack of air combined with the arm Locke kept hard pressed to his chest prevented him from using it.
His saber lay on the ground where he had been tackled, calm and quiet now. Jazen's eyes darted back and forth, looking for an avenue in which to strike. He could call his saber back to him, thumb it to life with his mind, slam it into Locke's back. But he risked hurting himself if he did that. Maybe the leg then. Yes, a leg would do nicely. And he would do both at once; his eyes drifted over one of the fallen warriors sabers. His own and his foes. Red and blue. Perfect. He surged with power again, trying to push Locke off him. Then something slammed itself into him again. Not from the outside, but from within.
~~~~~~~
Jazen watched the battle unfold with his own eyes, yet he was trapped. Trapped with a prison of his own rage and pain. He could feel his intent, feel the thought of hurting, even killing his Master swarm like a flood around him. But within that flood stood a small piece of land, on which Jazen now stood. Land made up of his memories of his time with Locke, of the time that had passed since they became master and student. Other pieces of the land were made up of images from his past, but for now, Locke was the forefront of them all. And from this tiny piece of land, Jazen struck out at his rage, tore a hole in the great sea before him. And when the waves parted, even for a moment, Jazen sent his true will, his true desires through the gap. It was this that saved Locke the first time...and would save him again. Pouring all his emotions into this one, Jazen launched himself into the tide and swam, swam with all his might. The tide pushed him back, pushed hard and yet swim he did. Slowly but surely towards the light and land on the other end.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The feeling within him surged forth again, stilled his body. He tried to summon the weapons to do the task he had set for them...and found the could not. Frustration raged across his face, his purple eyes glowing with hate at Locke. He must be doing this, must be crippling him somehow. He could still move his hands though and with one quick move, his one arm shot up to Locke's throat. It latched itself there, gripped as hard it could...but only for a moment. The thing that had been stilling his movements came again, forced his fingers to release their pressure. Unable to find an answer to this puzzling set of events, Jazen did the only thing he could. He cursed.
"Stand down? STAND DOWN!? Why should I?! I was tortured, was put through pain no being should be forced to endure. And why? Because I was younger, easier to break? You...you would have been able to endure this pain, would have been able to cut yourself off in order to endure! And yet not once did you offer to trade places with me, or threatened them in order to get their attention focused on you! YOU LET THEM HURT ME TO PROTECT YOURSELF!!!"
Jazen's chest heaved, panting from screaming when his lungs had not yet filled themselves. The hand at his throat regained some strength, but now it pounded several hard strikes into Locke's chest. The first ones were hard, would make Locke wince from the knuckles grinding into flesh. And the feeling suddenly returned, finding a weakness in the rage. The blows became soft, turning from anger propelled rockets into soft, knocking taps. Jazen's head slumped, his body matching its movement. All the pain, all the exhaustion found his body again and he struggled to keep to his feet. His breath left in short, huffed gasps. And then it was gone. His anger, his rage, his power. Jazen's head lifted back up to Locke's and they were no longer filled with the hate they once held. Now they held tears. Before his collapsed against his Master to release his pain now in the only way he had left, he asked only one last thing,
"Why didn't you help me?
And then Jazen shattered. And his tears stained the ground beneath him.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jul 1, 2010 11:40:22 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jul 1, 2010 11:40:22 GMT -5
{Long post in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... I hope it stayed coherent/makes sense. Lemme know if there's a problem}
A struggle raged within Jazen. Locke didn't need the Force to know that, as he continued to press against the boy, keeping him pinned back against the wall. He could see it Jazen's eyes, or in the occasional momentary change to his expression. Those changes weren't extreme, but Locke saw the softening, the ever-so-slight return to the face of the boy he'd come to know as a younger brother, before his features returned to the hate-filled monster he was now. Try as he might, Locke knew that, at this point, nothing he said would be able to get through the wall to the outside world that Jazen's hatred had created. The battle was within the boy's mind now, and it was something that only he could handle.
For his part, Locke continued to keep Jazen pinned back, though there was a struggle involved in it. On a normal day, Jazen was roughly as strong as Locke was, physically. However, Jazen was stronger than he might normally have been, with the Dark Side flowing into him and giving strength to what should have been weary muscles. The difference that it made wasn't enough to be any cause of huge concern to Locke, since his position let him press his weight into Jazen, where the padawan's did not, but it was there. Still, there were a few times where Jazen surged forward, trying to break free of Locke hold, and Locke had to call on the Force to keep him down.
But he held strong, and despite all of Jazen's efforts and the anger and hate that poured out of his eyes, he did not move. Locke could feel his student's frustration building, see it written across his face as he discovered that his efforts would get him nowhere. He did nothing, though, and only continued to hold Jazen back with the same stubborn determination that had gotten him through so many rough spots before.
Suddenly Jazen shifted his tactics from trying to break free to openly attacking Locke. One of his hands shot up, and before Locke could react, the hand of his own student was around his throat, squeezing it with all of the strength that could be summon. The walls of the void he'd built within his mind trembled as surprise and pain--pain from knowing that Jazen was intentionally trying to strangle him--slammed against them, but they held. Locke only met Jazen's eyes calmly, even as the boy's iron-grip made it impossible for him to breathe.
Then, surprisingly, Jazen's grip loosened, though the hand did not leave Locke's throat. Rage rippled across Jazen's face, along with what Locke imagined was frustration. And then he spoke again. Sorrow welled beyond the walls of Locke's isolation; sorrow at his student's suffering, and an unspeakable pain that came from his enraged words. Because Locke knew, that even if normally, Jazen might have known better than what he was saying now, there was some part of the boy that believed them. And that hurt, more than any words Locke could ever use could describe.
"YOU LET THEM HURT ME TO PROTECT YOURSELF!!!"
Locke's breath left in a pained gasp, and in his shock, the void crumbled. Pain flooded into him, mixed with that unbelievable sorrow. Never, never had the thought of putting Jazen through more pain only to protect himself crossed the Knight's mind, and the knowledge that Jazen could even think that was too much for Locke to bear.
Before he could say anything, Jazen's hand tightened around his throat again, but only for a moment. Then it left, and came back in punch that nearly knocked the air from Locke's chest. The Knight was forced to take a half step back from the force of the blow, and he grunted from the pain of it, but he did not retaliate--he only continued to meet Jazen's eyes. Another blow fell, more painful than the last, and Locke's wince was accompanied by a sharp intake of air. On and on, the blows fell, and for a few moments, the only sound that registered to Locke's ears was the sound of each of Jazen's blows painfully slamming into his chest. Still, Locke did nothing to stop them, made no move to strike back from them. He was Jazen's master, and he'd failed his student in the hour of his greatest need; a bruise and a sore chest was the least he deserved.
Jazen's blows grew softer as he started to wear himself out, and before too long, they were nothing more than gentle taps, as the rage--and the taint of the Dark Side--finally left him. Locke felt weariness fall over his student like a blanket, and he took his arm away from Jazen's chest when he slumped in on himself. Then Jazen looked up again, and Locke saw the kid he'd come to call his student again; he was tired, and in pain, but he was there. I'm so sorry, Jazen, Locke thought, fighting back tears.
"Why didn't you help me?
Jazen collapsed against Locke then, and Locke held him as soft, quiet sobs wracked the boy's body. Despite all of his fighting, Locke felt a few hot tears escape his eyes and slide down his face. "Forgive me, Jazen," he said, loud enough for only Jazen to hear. "I wanted to do something, I really did. But seeing what they were doing to you hurt me so much, I... I didn't know what to do. And I failed you because of it."
He wasn't sure how much time passed as he stood there, supporting his broken student. After a while, he glanced over to see Gabriel, who was on the verge of striking down the Dark Jedi in a hot-blooded rage. A warning surged from Locke mind to Gabriel's, but Locke wasn't sure if anything would come of it. Gabriel stopped himself, though, and turned away from the fallen man to come back toward Lock and Jazen. A touch of anger flared within Locke when he met Gabe's eyes; anger that Gabriel had told his student to embrace the anger and the hatred within him, when he full well knew the path that would start leading Jazen down. But still, Gabriel had done something, where Locke had not. They might still be stuck in their chains if Gabriel hadn't done what he did, but what was the cost?
"Aye, I'll talk to him," Locke answered wearily. He gently took Jazen by the shoulders and eased him down so that he was sitting on the floor, with his back leaning against the wall. Then he stood, squaring his shoulders purposefully, and turned to walk to the fallen Dark Jedi. But before he got there, he paused by Gabe. "When we get out of this mess," he said, only to where his fellow Knight could hear him, "you and I are going to have a talk."
He said nothing more, and continued on toward the Dark Jedi, who seemed to have regained a bit of his composure after his hand to Gabreil's saber. Locke motioned with his hand, and a current of the Force held the man up so that he was standing on his feet again. Locke felt his own anger rising up in the pit of his stomach at the sight of the man. The man who was the root of all of this pain. The man who'd done such terrible things to Jazen. The man only grinned at him.
"Well, Jedi," he said, cocky smirk on his face, "I didn't know your student ha-"
Locke's fist slammed into the side of the Dark Jedi's face, and sent him sprawling back onto the floor. Blood was starting to flow from his now-broken nose when he looked up, adding a sharp punctuation to the fear that was suddenly back on his face.
"If you ever even so much as look at him again, I'll make you wish your mother never laid eyes on your father." Locke's voice was calm and level, but the rage that burned in it was undeniable. Part of Locke wanted to do nothing more than lay into the Dark Jedi, to make him know some of the pain and misery he'd put all of the Jedi through. But he couldn't. The Knight couldn't deny that he was angry, but he kept that anger back and contained--leashed so that it could not break free. "Do you understand me?" His lightsaber hilt was still in his hand from fighting Jazen, and he made a point to make it visible as he crouched down near the Dark Jedi's head. "Are we clear?" The Dark Jedi nodded. "Good.
"Now, you are going to tell me where we are, and how we get out of here, and you are going to tell me now."
"Why should I-"
Again, Locke's fist slammed into the side of the Dark Jedi's head, forcing it to bounce against the hard stone floor. "Look," he said venomously as he grabbed the man by the front of his shirt and brought his face up to sit only inches away from his own, "I'm trying to be nice to you. Because after all the sh*t you've pulled here, I really don't want anything more than to put you up in those chains and go to town on you, do you understand me? Now, you can tell me what I want to know and we can be done here, or we can do things the hard way. What'll it be?" Of course, Locke was--for the most part--bluffing, though his anger was not faked. The threat was; or it would be, provided the Dark Jedi didn't decide to see how far he could carry out his little game.
The Dark Jedi studied Locke for a long while. Apparently, something in the hardness of Locke's eye's or the tone of his voice, or the set of his jaw, made him believe that he wasn't kidding. The man's form slumped, and he gave up with a heavy sigh. "We're in a mountain a few miles northwest of Kriezna. "
"Where's Umgul City from here?"
"South. About a half-hours' flight in a speeder."
"See? Cooperating is a wonderful thing," Locke said as he straightened up to sand once more. The feeling of the cold floor beneath his bare feet brought another question to mind as he clipped his lightsaber hilt back onto its place on his belt. "Oh, and what did you do with the rest of my clothes and my gun?"
--------------------------------------
Locke strode back into the room a few minutes later, with his coat and upper-body robes back on, along with his boots and pistol. "Alright," he said, more to Gabriel than Jazen, "we're getting out of here and heading to Umgul City again. There ought to be a speeder we can use in the hanger here."
He stooped down by Jazen and took one of the boy's arms over his shoulder, and helped him to his feet again, allowing his student to lean his weight against him to make walking easier. He called Jazen's fallen saber to him with the Force and stuck it into one of his coat pockets."For the moment, we need to put the mission on hold and head to a hospital. Jazen needs medical attention, and I really don't think we're in any shape to carry on with things at this point." His eyes shifted to the Dark Jedi, who was still on the floor. "Gabriel, if you could bring him with us, it'd be much appreciated. He's got information we still need, and I've got my hands full with Jazen. Just knock him out if he gets rowdy; I'm not in the mood to deal with his crap at the moment."
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WWFF
The clockwork hampster
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last online Aug 1, 2013 12:48:43 GMT -5
Padawan
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Jul 1, 2010 15:58:29 GMT -5
Post by WWFF on Jul 1, 2010 15:58:29 GMT -5
((Sorry mates, I hit a wall on this one. I think this will be just between Gabe and Locke for a couple posts. Is that cool Greed?))
Knock him out? The man would be lucky if Gabriel knocked him out. While it had been minutes Locke was gone, the fire of battle still burned bright in Gabriel’s eyes. Though he had calmed himself down considerably during the time Locke was gone, administering what little healing powers he knew on the now exhausted Padawan. Guilt racked Gabriel’s mind, and could be seen visibly in his eyes, though when Locke reentered the room his attention fell back on the Dark Jedi, relighting the fire in him. Lock gave him the go-ahead to grab the pitiful example of a man, as a slightly sinister smirk tickled the corner of his lips.
Gabriel’s slow, smooth stride brought him about a meter from the bearded man. His left hand shot out, summoning the force to lift the man from his seat on the floor by the throat, The man’s body lifted slightly off of the floor as Gabriel brought him closer to himself, just close enough for the man to hear Gabriel’s words.
“If you try anything…” His voice remained dangerously level, as his eyes burned with intensity. “I will drag you by your hair across this misty excuse for a planet, are we understood?” The man’s chuckle and nod were all the response Gabriel was to receive. Amazing how “powerful” a man could be when hurting children, and somehow their spines could melt from their body when faced with someone their own size. A shameful practice.
He lowered the man back to the ground, though kept a firm grasp of him via the Force. A simple nod to Locke was all that passed between the two men. Gabriel reminded Locke of the medical droids aboard the ship which had brought them, which (with any luck) would still be in orbit and pending a transmission from them. They could help Jazen and they could get the Jedi off of this planet before he recovered some of his power. The agreement was made though, Locke was rather hesitant about not taking Jazen immediately to a medical facility. It was only when Gabriel reminded that he would need more than physicians to care for the boy, that he agreed.
Hailing the ship was the easy part, dragging the darksider onboard by his ponytail was the difficult part for Gabriel, though only difficult because the was squirming. The young Jedi placed his captive in a holding take in the underbelly of the ship, before returning to the main deck where Locke and medical droids were seeing to Jazen.
Gabriel stopped for a moment at the sight of the man crouching by the side of the cot his apprentice was laid up in, with wires and tubes running from him to various machines. Locke would be angry with Gabriel, exceptionally so, but Gabriel was confident that the man would understand eventually that what he did was to spare the boy more pain. It was a difficult thing, this situation he found himself it; the council would disapprove of his actions, pending Locke’s report, it was a fact which he accepted.
With a silent nod to himself he continued his stride toward Locke, stopping only a couple meters away, calling to his friend through the force, and waiting for him to respond.“Locke, we should talk now while he’s out.” The words slipped between the two minds, as Gabriel awaited his companion’s response.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jul 1, 2010 19:16:43 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jul 1, 2010 19:16:43 GMT -5
Locke carried an unconscious Jazen in his arms as he entered the medical bay of the ship that brought them to Umgul. Originally, he'd wanted to get Jazen to a hospital, because he knew their vessel lacked a kolto tank to put the boy in, which was probably what he needed. In the end, though Gabriel swayed the weary Investigator to bring Jazen to the ship and let his medical work be done there.
Locke noted, as he laid Jazen down, that he'd never noticed how absolutely bone-tired he was. There had been some fatigue on the planet's surface, certainly, but this was different. It filled every part of his being, and was more than some simple tiredness of the body; it seemed to come from his very soul, from the sorrow that still filled his heart as Jazen's words echoed within his mind. Weary shoulders sagged as Locke sighed, feeling what felt like the world pressing down on him.
"I'm so sorry Jazen," he muttered, looking down at the boy's frame. He knew Jazen couldn't hear, but he had to say it anyway, for his own sake. Tears began to well up in his eyes again, and he blinked, fighting them back. Was this what being a Master was about? Having to endure indescribable pain as you were forced to watch your student put through a punishment they'd done nothing to deserve, all while knowing you were powerless to do anything to stop it? That wasn't what Locke took Jazen on for. He didn't know what he'd expected to have to do as Jazen's teacher, but it definitely wasn't this. This was hard. This was painful.
He watched in silence as the medical droids went about their work. They stuck IVs into Jazen's arm, removed the device the Dark Jedi had put onto his chest, and replaced it with a patch that had a wire that ran up to a heartbeat monitor. While the ship didn't have a kolto tank proper, there was some kolto onboard, and it was applied in salve form to the worst of Jazen's injuries. They went still when they were done, but still they remained there, watching the boy for any sign of trouble. As long s they were silent, Locke didn't mind.
He lost track of time as he sat there, staring at Jazen's beaten form with only the sound of the heartbeat monitor to keep him company. Their battle replayed over and over in his head, and more than that, the words that Jazen spoke in his rage continued to echo, keeping the wounds on Locke's soul raw and painful. Every wound that marred Jazen's form, every bruise that darkened his skin, was a testament to Locke's failure. And even when those healed, the damage that had been done to Jazen's heart would linger, always there to remind Locke of the pain he could have prevented.
Locke felt Gabriel's presence before the other Knight spoke to him. Though he knew Gabriel had only meant to do what was right, Locke was mad. Mad that Gabriel had the nerve to tell his apprentice to do what he did, knowing the cost that could come from it. Locke didn't respond to Gabriel's message at first, and instead remained where he was, crouching over Jazen. Finally, though, he stood with a sigh and turned to face the bigger man. Their eyes met for a moment, Locke's stormy grey staring flatly into Gabriel's piercing blue. Then Locke started to walk toward the door Gabriel came in through. He didn't say a word as he passed his fellow Knight, only motioned with his head for Gabriel to follow.
The door slid open with a hiss, and the two Knights exited into the hallway outside. Locke stepped forward, to look at Umgul through one of the ship's veiwports, and waited to hear the hiss of the door closing again. Even then, he was silent, only staring out at the mist-shrouded world below and gathering his thoughts. After a while, he finally turned to face Gabriel, and leaned against the wall behind him as he folded his arms across his chest.
As he looked at the other man, Locke found himself thinking that, did he not have the Force and were they not allies, he might have been intimidated by Gabriel. It would be fitting--Gabriel had an intimidating form, especially with those eyes of his, and was, physically, a good deal stronger than Locke. Not that it mattered here. Oh, part of Locke wanted to slap Gabe for doing what he'd done, but he could not. Not to a friend, especially one who'd only done something to try and help. That didn't mean the coming conversation would be pleasant, though, and it didn't mean Locke wasn't angry with Gabe, because he was; he was angry in a way he hadn't been a very long time.
"Gabriel," he started, "you know that I count you as a friend, and a brother in arms. I like you, and I think that you're a good guy, even though I haven't known you very long..." He paused to gather his thoughts, and when his eyes came back up to meet Gabriel's, some of the anger within him was quite plainly visible, as it was in his voice. "However, I have to ask, where could you possibly have gotten the idea that what you told Jazen to do was right?" He came up from leaning against the wall, and though he was a little bit shorter than Gabriel, met his eyes directly. "What do you think gives you the right? Force, man, do you have any idea what you've started?"
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WWFF
The clockwork hampster
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last online Aug 1, 2013 12:48:43 GMT -5
Padawan
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Jul 5, 2010 13:08:20 GMT -5
Post by WWFF on Jul 5, 2010 13:08:20 GMT -5
Gabriel watched as his beckoning went seemingly unanswered. He wasn’t sure whether Locke was too deep in thought, or whether he had been blatantly ignored. Either way, Gabriel understood. Locke was upset with him, and rightfully so. What Gabriel did was inexcusable; he knew that, but something in him just could help but justify his actions to himself.
If you’d not done that, Jazen could be dead. The justification kept running through his head, though deep inside he knew he was wrong. But what else could have been done? Locke was in too much turmoil to do anything, Jazen was dying, and Gabriel was angry. At least he had done something there was no judgment toward Locke; he didn’t know how he would react in the same situation, but he could bet that it would be similar.
Nothing about this mission had gone to plan, it was supposed to be in, out, and over. Instead, Jazen nearly died, Locke nearly lost his apprentice, and Gabriel nearly threw the code to the wind. It was amazing how easily the human mind could bend, how it could break. Gabriel had seen more pain in the last twenty four hours, than he had in years. And what was the reason behind it? Three half inept darksiders trying to gain entry into the temple; all of this pain, all of this second guessing and anger for what? Nothing. Gabriel’s lips curled slightly with the disgust he felt over the whole matter.
His face melted back to the set jaw he had worn moments before as he watched Locke rise from his place near Jazen. A moment was shared between the two as they eyes met, and Gabriel knew what was about to happen. It was clear Locke was upset, his stride was long and determined, jaw set, and grey eyes like slate. While Gabriel was expecting this conversation to go smoothly, he knew it wouldn’t. It couldn’t. And with that knowledge Gabriel followed behind at the beckoning of a quick tilt of Locke’s head.
The door hissed open as Locke walked through, and sizzled shut as Gabriel stepped through pulling it back to place with the force. He peeked back at the door, ensuring that it had indeed closed all the way, and then looked back to his friend as he gazed out the viewport. Gabriel could sense Locke’s frustration even before he spoke, though it didn’t cause him to waver even the slightest bit. He remained rooted to the floor awaiting the words of his companion. Minutes passed, though each seemed like hours.
Lock turned to face Gabriel, the two meeting for a moment of eye contact again, and an extra moment of silence thrown in for good measure before Locke started. At first the anger in Locke seemed to be well maintained, hidden below his reassuring words. Gabriel felt it best not to respond just yet, sensing that Locke wasn’t finished just yet, as Locke looked down and paused. He was correct as the man looked back up for the all-inspiring floor. Gabriel’s mind wandered for a brief moment, questioning himself as to why people found their thoughts on the floor; a question he would revisit some other time. Locke’s eye met with Gabriel, and anger within them reflective of the man’s own soul.
Where could I have gotten the idea? Gabriel felt defense rise within himself, though managed to suppress it as Locke continued, asking if Gabriel was aware of what he had started. Of course he was! He had started what he hoped to be a chance for Jazen to look inside himself and study that breaking point, so that he could make it hard, and hide it from his opponents making him untouchable. It was a necessary thing which all Jedi would have to face at some point in their lives: weakness.
Gabriel remained silent for a moment, allowing the self-defense response to die down before responding to his friend. He would try and reason first, keeping his voice level and hushed as his deep voice exited his lungs.
“Locke,” He began, genuine apology on his face. “It wasn’t my place to do what I did, and I wont try to justify it.” Gabriel paused take a couple steps closer, stopping a couple meters form Locke, yet keeping the same calm posture as he studied the man’s face. Locke was upset, and nothing Gabriel said would change that, it was a fact. Though it wouldn’t stop him from trying to get his friend to see that what happened my not all be bad.
“Locke, what happened today was entirely unnecessary, everything about it. And I wont lie, I didn’t expect Jazen to lose it like he did. But it is something we all have to confront at some point.” Gabriel paused as his eyes broke contact with Locke, his mind reflecting on his own experience with that darkness inside. Consciously pulling his mind back to the present, eyes connecting with Locke once more.
“You have the opportunity now to guide him through this! You can make him hard, teach him to lock that dark spot away forever and cover it with the light. He counts of you, Locke. Gabriel stood, his sincerity painted on each of his features. He straightened his posture slightly, and set his jaw, awaiting Locke’s retort.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jul 7, 2010 13:24:31 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jul 7, 2010 13:24:31 GMT -5
Locke was silent once more as he thought. The muscles of his jaw stood out starkly along the side of his face as his mouth worked, churning for words with which to form an answer. Part of him wasn't surprised by Gabriel's words. Honestly, there really wasn't much else to be done for the situation, now that Gabriel had taken it upon himself to open that door for Jazen. Still, the road ahead would be a dangerous one, for both Locke and Jazen, and the other part of the Knight was irritated that Gabriel didn't seem to get that. He wasn't the one that would have to deal with any potential outbursts from Jazen in the future. Locke was.
"So is that all this is to you then, Gabriel?" There was a quiet fury to Locke's voice as he spoke, nearly glaring at the red-haired Guardian before him. "Some ploy to make Jazen stronger? Is that why you did it?" His feet moved him forward again, until he was only two or so feet away from Gabriel. "And did you think of the possible consequences of this are, Gabriel? Walking him through this is all well and good, and I fear there's not anything else I'll be able to do, but this is something that only he can deal with. I can preach at him until my throat bleeds, but this is his fight, and you started him off by pushing him off of the side of the cliff to see what happens."
Locke irritably ran a hand through his hair. Maybe he wasn't being completely fair to Gabriel; in his heart, he knew the man's intentions had been good, but wars were fought and people slaughtered over good intentions. Add to that the fact that Locke, for once, felt lost, or like he was drowning in a sea of uncertainty, and he had to vent at someone. Gabriel just happened to be on the recieving end. Fitting, considering that he'd been the one to urge Jazen to give in, but that didn't make it any better, did it?
"Answer me this then, Gabriel: what if Jazen fails in his fight to hold off against this darkness?" Locke folded his arms across his chest, shifted his weight from one leg to the other and looked Gabriel directly in his eyes. "I believe both of us can agree that it's only a matter of time until it comes up again, now that he's danced with it. What will he do then? There's a reason so many of us fall, and you know it; it's because the Dark Side feels good."
Now, Locke had never flirted with the Dark Side himself, though he'd come close at one point in the past. But he'd heard enough both from his own master and other masters in the Order to know that he spoke truly, after a fashion. It felt good until you realized the trap you'd fallen into was one of your own making, and by then, it was often too late.
Even then, he didn't have to know the Dark Side himself to know that. The Dark Side was a quick road to power, and often one that was easier than walking in the ways of the Light. Locke's biggest fear was that the glimpse of the ever-alluring power that Jazen got within the depths of that mountain would be the biggest draw to the boy, and he didn't know how Jazen would handle it.
"Because you know what I saw in that room, Gabriel," he continued. There was an unmistakable pained edge to his voice, now that the memories of Jazen's breaking were going through his mind again. "I saw Jazen take down two Dark Jedi, and I saw him do it fast. You think he won't remember that? You think you won't remember how, when there was nothing else he could do, his anger and his hatred gave him power, and let him escape his bonds?" He snorted roughly. "I do.
"And do you know what my fear is? My fear is that at some time in the future, there's going to be another time where Jazen's back is against the wall, where he's exhausted all of his other options. And, as much as I'd like to say that I can protect him from every threat in the Galaxy, I can't. I will give everything I have to protect that boy, even my life, but I'm a mortal man, just like the rest of us. I have my limits. So, if I can't do anything, or if, for some reason, I'm not there, what do you think will happen? He'll be faced with a decision--a decision to resist the dark, or to give into it. I can't say what he'll choose, but thanks to you, he's got a rather poor record."
Locke's voice was quivering by the end of his talk. He knew he wasn't being fair to Gabriel, but he didn't care. Locke was afraid. More afraid than he'd been in a very long time, and he wasn't afraid for himself. He was afraid for his student.
Still, maybe once Jazen had recovered and things were more settled in his mind, he'd apologize to Gabriel; the big man was someone that Locke considered to be a friend, after all.
Maybe.
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WWFF
The clockwork hampster
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last online Aug 1, 2013 12:48:43 GMT -5
Padawan
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Jul 7, 2010 15:45:27 GMT -5
Post by WWFF on Jul 7, 2010 15:45:27 GMT -5
Gabriel’s form straightened more than usual as the onslaught began; feeling it best to let lock finish what he was saying rather than interrupt the man and defend himself. There was no defense for what he had done. It was inexcusable, but then again, they were all alive. The after the direct accusations were finished, Locke began speaking what was truly on his mind. The boy’s future. Gabriel merely nodded as the man made several points; agreeing all the while that they were possible outcomes.
He watched Locke’s body for a look at what was on the man’s mind. Each little movement in his face, as he spoke, and every shift he made gave his thoughts away to the ember haired Jedi across from him. Worry, fear, regret, anger; each made their mark upon the man’s expressions and voice. His shoulders slumped as he thought of Jazen in trouble, giving his fear and helplessness away. His jaw clenched as he paused between statements, giving his frustration and anger away. He furrowed brow creasing gave his worry and regret away, as he spoke of the fallen whom Jazen had slain. It was all as clear as a book, even the was he paced forward slowly, contemplatively toward the large Corellian.
Gabriel’s eyes left Locke for a moment as the man paced his way back to the viewport once he was finished with his thoughts. Gabriel watched the dot of a planet disappearing as the ship drew further and further from that forsaken place. He took a deep breath of the stale recycled air on the ship, holding it into his lung until they could hold no more before releasing it slowly in a long silent sigh. He knew Locke was right. Nothing he could say could make him less right, just as nothing Gabriel could say could justify what had been done. And to that point, Gabriel decided to not even attempt to defend it.
He stepped forward slowly, calculating where touching Locke would be a good idea, though he figured it couldn’t hurt. He closed the space between the two and laid his hand on Locke’s slumped shoulder. He peered at the blackness of space and the ship made the jump, the two Jedi relying on the force to keep their balance for a brief moment. The blurry stars whizzed past as the two shared silence for several minutes. Knowing Locke deserved some answers and a full apology, Gabriel lowered his hand and took half a step back, away from his friend.
“Locke, I apologize, from the depths of my heart, I do.” The deep voice broke the silence surrounding the two as Gabriel tilted his head slightly in a gesture of sincerity. “I didn’t do it so Jazen could grow stronger. It’s wasn’t my intention to teach him anything. My only thoughts were keeping him, and you, and me alive. It wasn’t the boy’s time; and I know you sense his power as I do. He is more powerful than he knows yet.” Gabriel looked away from the viewport as he shook off his own pain at what had transpired.
“I don’t want to lose him any more that you do, and what I did was deplorably selfish. I was thinking of survival over upholding the standards that we are held to. You have to believe I did not intend to harm him in anyway, the contrary, I wanted to spare him anymore pain.
“What transpired was regretable… but Locke, he’s alive. It’s not too late for him. And if he does make those bad decisions you are worried about, you will be there in his mind if noting else. You words don’t go away; a Master’s teaching live on, he knows right from wrong. I wish I was blessed with foresight; I wish I could tell you that it would all be okay; but as for now… all I can say, it that it is up to him… and you…
“The future’s not written in stone Locke, Jazen has a choice, and will always have a choice, and with your guidance, he’ll know what to do in the end.”
Gabriel turn himself from the window as he finished his monologue, taking several steps across the room. Taking another deep breath and releasing to be recycled once more. He turned beck to face Locke’s back. “…of that I’m sure, Locke.” The only other thing that he could think to say was a simply apology.
“I’m sorry for what I have done today, Locke. I am truly, deeply sorry. I’m in debt to you, if you can simply forgive me.”
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jul 8, 2010 15:22:11 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jul 8, 2010 15:22:11 GMT -5
{Crappy post x.x}
Locke was silent as he walked back over to stare out of the window, back to the world that had given rise to so much pain within his heart. It wasn't supposed to go this way. The mission was supposed to be simple. Smooth. They'd succeeded, in a fashion, with the defeat and capture of the Dark Jedi, but it sure didn't feel like it to Locke. All he felt was the weight of the world pressing down onto his shoulders. None of this pain was supposed to come from this.
The muscles of his shoulder grew hard for a moment as he tensed when Gabriel touched him. He relaxed at the sound of the Guardian's deep voice. And as the other man spoke, saying words Locke knew were heartfelt and earnest, something within him changed, and he suddenly felt very bad for getting so angry at Gabriel. He had every right to be mad at Gabriel, but that didn't make it right. Or maybe it did, given the events that had transpired due to Gabriel's urgings. Locke was too much of an emotional wreck to know and he didn't care.
He sighed again when Gabriel finished speaking. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes again, blurring the ever-present soft blue glow of hyperspace outside the window. He felt so lost...
"You put too much faith in me, I think, Gabriel," he said, voice weak and shoulders slumped. "I don't know how I'm going to deal with any of this... But," he turned around, offering a hand to his fellow Knight, "I thank you. There's not much else to do but keep moving forward, right?"
He let his hand fall away from Gabe's and, once again, looked down to the metal floor beneath their feet before meeting the man's piercing blue eyes again. "And of course I forgive you. I... I know you were only doing what you could to help Jazen." His eyes fell away to the side as he shook his head sadly, remembering the way he'd been paralyzed by his emotional agony. "You did more for him back there than I did. And I really shouldn't have gotten mad at you. Well, I should have, but-" Locke paused, running a hand through his dark brown hair irritably; it wasn't often that he couldn't find a way to word his thoughts. It wasn't often he didn't really know what he was thinking.
"You know what I mean," he finally muttered. He looked up to Gabe again, and for the time being, that sense of camaraderie had returned to his face, and with it, a bit of the old Locke back to his weary features. A sigh brought his shoulders back down, if not as far down as they had been a few moments ago, and he turned to start down the hall. "For now, though, I think I'm going to rest. I'm more tired than I've been in a long time."
He turned into a small room with a single little bed and closed the door behind him. He hung his coat up on a peg on the door and slumped down onto the bed. For a time, he just laid there, staring at the ceiling as his troubled mind was allowed to wander. He didn't know how long stayed awake, thinking, but after a while, he finally fell into a fitful sleep.
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Locke stirred a few hours later. He sat up on the little cot and stretched, working some of the soreness out of his tired muscles. Sleeping returned a little bit of vigor, but not much. It had been plagued with nightmares. Nightmares that left him shifting near-constantly and covered in a thin layer of sweat. Nightmares about his failure, and what might come in the future. Locke suspected that the weariness he felt wasn't one of the body, but of the spirit. Understandable, but it wasn't a condition he liked being in. With any luck, it would pass soon enough, and then he could be back to his normal high-spirited self.
There wasn't anything to be done about it now, though, so he grabbed his coat, throwing it on over his shoulders, and went back out into the hallway. The blue of hyperspace was still there, as he'd expected it would be and probably would still be for a few hours more. When he reached the end of the hallway, he turned into the room that Jazen was in.
It was still quiet within; a silence that was only broken by the steady beeping of Jazen's heartbeat monitor. Locke came to a stop near the edge of his student's bed, and just stood there, watching and regretting.
{Alright, I figure FZ can come back into the posting now, and I guess Gabe can come into the room if you want, WWFF.}
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WWFF
The clockwork hampster
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last online Aug 1, 2013 12:48:43 GMT -5
Padawan
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Jul 9, 2010 22:40:36 GMT -5
Post by WWFF on Jul 9, 2010 22:40:36 GMT -5
Gabriel breathed a large sigh of relief as Locke left the room. His hopes that the other knight would forgive him were met, though his guilt did not subside. He knew Locke would have a battle on his hands with Jazen; the boy was strong willed and powerful in his own right, and that little taste of the ever alluring Darkside would prove to be a struggle. That much was assured. It didn’t make Gabriel doubt his words however. He fully believed Locke could guide the boy away from that path; and he would. Gabriel knew, as Locke surely did; there was no other option.
Gabriel’s odd blue eyes scanned the room before settling on the blue glow out the viewport once more. He too was feeling the strains of the past few hours. He didn’t know how long he was unconscious before the torture room, but he had intended to ask the pilot; though he’d not gotten to it just yet. And he wouldn’t get to it for a while. He had too much on his mind to talk about such a trivial matter; it didn’t matter how long… it was too long.
Moments turned to minutes, and minutes to an hour. Gabriel wouldn’t move from his position in front of the viewport, his eyes stared blankly at the same blue blur, never changing. The thoughts which raced through his mind were too numerous to even begin to count, and none stayed for more than a fleeting moment. Nothing settled in his heart, as no thoughts could find solidity to latch onto; all in all he was in turmoil, and he was getting tired, which only seemed to make it worse.
Finally, after what seemed to me a permanent fixated position for the young Jedi, his eyes flashed about the space beyond the viewport. Of course that never changing blue blur still enveloped the ship, but Gabriel was no longer lost in it. His mind finally decided it too tired to allow these thoughts to wiz about any longer. He stepped back from his spot and turned to his left, taking stock of his surroundings. He was in a lounge of sorts, upon the small transport.
Big cushioned chairs spread about room, the kind one could lose a week sleeping in and still feel like they were too comfortable to move from. A small table with two chairs stood immediately to his left, with a vase and some strange, fungal looking flower budding up and out of it. A counter beyond that, roughly a meter and a half in length, where meals would be served for longer treks. The cooker behind that, and a cabinet containing dried and preserved foods. Just next to the cabinet was a smaller cabinet, though Gabriel didn’t know what was held in there; a problem which could easily be rectified. Taking slow strides, he paced himself to the little cabinet and popped it open. Small glasses neatly lined up, on a shelf within the cabinet, and a few bottles of various spirits and a wine from Aldaraan.
‘Why not?’ his voice echoed in his head. Gabriel had never really had anything harder than light wine, once with his master as a part of a negotiation dinner. It was frowned upon within the order, but his mind was racing too much to even meditate. It wasn’t often that the man was incapable of finding enough solus in the living force to calm his mind. In fact he couldn’t remember ever being as conflicted and distracted as he now was. What could a little alcohol hurt. Just to calm himself and relax away the stress some.
He reached into the cabinet and grabbed a small glass, taking a bottle labeled Whyren’s Reserve. He’d heard of it before, which was the sole reason for him choosing it. “A Product of Corellia.” He echoed the writing on the label as he poured himself some of the spirit. The amber color resembled a thin sap as it poured from the bottle; just enough to fill the small glass about half way. The bottle was room temperature, and to some ice from the freeze-box would probably help that issue. He pushed the stopper back into the bottle and placed it back in the cupboard before turning to the freeze-box and opening it, pulling a small handful of small cubed dihydrogen monoxide from the chiller, placing them in the glass with the amber liquid.
Gabriel big hand grasped the small cup and he turned from the small kitchen area, using the force to grasp and pull the freeze-box lid shut as he walked out. Hi feet carried him to one of those lounge chairs he had noted before, lowering himself into the soft cushions directly across from the viewport he had stood in front of for so long. A deep sigh escaped his lungs as he looked across the empty room; he hadn’t even had time to clean himself up yet, he looked at his hand and the blood smeared on it from rubbing his face. It was then that he remembered his shoulder, as a volt of pain shot through his arm and up his neck. He gritted his teeth, and switched the whiskey glass from his right hand to his left. He’d have to get that fixed. But the Med droids had their hands full with Jazen, and that was far mor important that a third degree burn. He’d survive, though another scar would be the physical reminder of this experience; as though the mental one wasn’t enough.
Gabriel’s left hand brought the little glass even with his eyes, his ears picking up the clattering ice as he peered into the amber liquid. He brought the glass no his nose and took a quick sniff. The smell of spices and charcoal coupled with the intense smell of distilled alcohol filled his nose. He felt the burn run from his nose into his stomach, his mouth watered slightly as he swallowed hard attempting to wash the smell away. His nose crinkled slightly as he cocked his head. ‘Here goes…’ He thought to himself as he brought the glass to his lips, holding his breath slightly to avoid the same reaction from his nose and stomach. The glass tilted and a small mouthful of the whiskey slid into his mouth, the ice clattering on the glass’ wall. He managed to get the drink down, though found himself sputtering and coughing as the burn he had felt earlier seemed intensified and filled his stomach as though he had dropped a fire ball in it.
After the initial reaction to the alcohol, Gabriel found the woody after flavor to be rather pleasant, and took another bigger sip. This time he handled it better than before, only letting out a warm breath as he allowed the fire to burn out within his gut. His system, having no food in it, seemed to immediately take the alcohol immediately. He felt a rush of blood as the capillaries in his dermis dilated. He was warm, but the relaxation point wouldn’t hit him for some time.
He took another drought from the glass, after which he held it with his finger tips level with his eyes. ‘It’s funny…’ His mind wandered slightly as he looked into the dwindling glass of liquor and ice. ‘…this stuff has an origin, plainly stated for everyone to see… it’s not even an animate object. “Corellian Whiskey”.’ His mind wandered to his own origins as another sigh emerged from his body and more whiskey went down to his stomach. He didn’t even have memories of his mother. It wasn’t that he felt sorry for himself, no Jedi had memories of their family. It wasn’t allowed, so he wasn’t alone. He remembered thinking as a child that his mother might be proud of him, what his father would say if he saw the boy lift something without touching it. His Master was the closest thing he had to a parent, and Xen was exquisite. She was delicate, stern, graceful, beautiful... Everything a child could want in a mother. He felt a bit of contentment as he thought back on her; when she had chosen him as her Padawan, her smile. R’Hanna’s jealousy… R’Hanna. Some memories refused to die.
Taking another long drought from his glass, nearly emptying it, he felt his shoulders finally relax, as another warm sigh emerged from his body. The ice in his cup was nearly melted, and the glass itself had developed a bit of sweat from the moisture in the air. He brought the glass to his lips once more finishing the watered down whiskey as he did so, pouring the ice into his mouth a crunching it between his teeth as he walked to the little kitchen set up. He placed the glass on the counter, feeling a slight tingle in his lips, he licked them, and blinked wearily. Perhaps he could sleep.
‘But first I should clean myself up…’ He own voice echoed in he head. Finally his mind had found some rest. Just calm enough to think clearly. He began making his way from the room, opening the door with a hand gesture combined with the force, as stepped into the little medical room, taking another look at Jazen. As the soft beep steadily droned on, he turned and began down a short hall with rooms on either side; his hand dryly touched a pad next to one of the doors, which hissed open, and he stepped through.
A cot, a small shelving unit, and a narrow door to the refresher. He made his way to the shelving unit first. His saber floated to open palms and were place neatly next to one another on the top shelf, followed by the belt which he unbuckled, and folded slightly placing it next to the shiny hilts. He lifted his over tunic over his head, neatly folding it and placing it on the second shelf, followed by his under tunic. He walked to the small cot, and sat slowly, lifting one let and un buckling his boot before removing it and repeating the precess with the other leg. He feet were wrapped in the same cloth he used on his hands and forearms, which he went about in wrapping, placing the hand wraps and little metal discs on a stand next to the cot, he then un wrapped his feet and calves and went about winding the strips around his two fingers; placing the wound cloth on the ground next to his boots which he had neatly tucked under the bed.
Standing once more he stretched his beck and stomach. As he straightened the cordy muscles in his torso relaxed. His abdominals were nicely defined, as was he chest and arms, though none ever saw his finely tuned body. He reached with his left hand to touch the skin next to his badly burnt shoulder. The pain was remaining a hot reminder of the wound as he shook his head and hissed his discomfort. At least he was alive. At least they all were. Shaking his head to clear it from those thoughts he began removing his pants and folding them to be placed next to his tunics on the second shelf.
Steady paces too him to the refresher were he looked into a mirror for the first time. Stubble told him he had been there for a couple days, the dried blood told him he was lucky to be seeing and hearing anything at all. A bruised cheek bone, and a busted lip. He squinted at himself in the reflection, shaking his head as stepped into the sonic shower. His finger found two buttons and the shower began. The vibration cleaning his form thoroughly. He always preferred water showers, but he also maintained the theory that you play the cards your given. Clean was clean. He closed his eyes and felt the small waves of energy bounce of his skin as the dried blood crumpled off into a fine dust. The shower made his shoulder a bit more sensitive, but it didn’t stop him from staying in the shower for an extra few minutes. The vibration felt good on his tired muscles and the light hum calmed his mind slightly.
He finger found another button, and the shower stopped. He stepped out over to the sink and faucet, waving his hand over a sensor which allowed the water to run freely from the faucet. Dunking his hand in the stream he shook off the excess and ran his wet hand over his face and in to his hair. Repeating the process a few times before cupping his hand a sucking some water into his mouth. He spat it back into the sink and reached for a small linen cloth dangling on a bar to his right, wincing as the movement of his right arm shot pain through his shoulder and across his chest. He held the cloth under the stream of water with his left hand, ringing it out and placing it on his shoulder. Again he hissed his pain out as he dabbed the horrible burn. Bacta would have been better, but again, he took what he could get. This process was repeated several times, though he did note that the whiskey had probably helped dull the pain, as he could feel the alcohol fully in his system.
Gabriel exited the refresher cracking his neck as he made his way to his cot, pulling the thin sheet down as he sat on the edge and slid his legs under and pulled the sheet back over his waist. A deep sigh emerged from his mouth again, accompanied by his voice, emphasizing his comfort. A long yawn escaped his body, as his piercing eyes stared at the ceiling. It was sooner that he realized before he fell asleep. Though, finally his mind was at rest enough for him to at least slip into the between.
Gabriel’s eyes snapped open. A chime on the com. system alerting the passengers of their proximity to Coruscant. An hour more, he guestimated as he looked down to see that he has kicked his sheets off. His body was covered in a thin layer of perspiration. Apparently he was dreaming. The only thing he recalled as he thought back was the image of Jazen slaughtering his torturers; he did recall something about himself being in Jazen’s place and laying waste to the whole room. He shook his head and grunted as he sat up. He must have been out for about four hours; it wasn’t much, but it was more sleep that he thought he’d get.
Gabriel rose from the cot and walked to the shelves, grabbing his pants and sliding them over his naked form. He buckled the waist and buttoned the fly. The scar on the back on his left shoulder puckered his smooth skin, along with the scar on his side from Di’Shan’s saber from his duel on Rhen Var. A new one would join them, small reminders, no matter how large they were. He grabbed his under tunic and slid it over his torso, and strode to the door and from the room as it hissed open and closed behind him. Making his way back to the med. room. A breath of relief as he heard the beep of the heart monitor; he rounded the corner and found Locke watching the boy sleep.
Again Gabriel’s heart sunk, though he put on a pleasant face for his comrade. A slight smile and a node between the two as they both stood at opposite ends of the cot; both watching the boy.
“About an hour off, now.” His voice broke the silence between the two. He made his way to a chair by the side of the bed. He could sense his observation had been acknowledged by his companion. He nodded, as he looked up at Locke. “You get any sleep?” He questioned genuinely, awaiting a response from his friend.
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