|
Post by Whill Shaman Xixo on Apr 5, 2013 7:00:00 GMT -8
*Jabiim was a world deluged by torrential rains, experiencing less than five days per standard year without precipitation. Its muddy surface constantly shifted from the weight of the rains. The world had a very unstable electric field, and electric storms were quite common. Due to this, repulsorcraft of any type were largely unusable on the planet.*
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 27, 2015 12:53:53 GMT -8
After entering the orbit of the planet of Jabiim via public transport, the ship carrying the banished Jedi Master touched down on soil that Mikaelian had long dreamed to walk on. The Jedi Master wondered what the people of the planet might do if they recognized him. Mikaelian had heard whispers that since the demise of Darth Aszil's regime, all standing orders for the capture and death of all remaining Jedi of the Jabiim Jedi Order (of which there were a scarce few, anyhow) was lifted for direct democracy had returned to the planet, he believed. Regardless, he was not concerned for he knew that his stay on this planet would be brief. Mikaelian had a date with his destiny and his death, and hew knew it.
|
|
|
Post by Jeriko di Agresta on Jan 27, 2015 18:29:23 GMT -8
The private starship that carried the Chief Executive Officer of Agresta Enterprises touched down smoothly in the private hangar of Waldor Garosa, the very rich and powerful resident, and businessman, of Jabiim who pushed government officials to spearhead this project for repulsor capability on the rain-saturated planet. Though Garosa was not present to greet di Agresta, the Chief Financial Advisor to the head of the government was. He was a nondescript fellow and, in truth, Jeriko couldn't remember his name which was Jason Daj.
Daj's countenance shifted to one of out-and-out joy, whether it was genuine or not was difficult to tell but di Agresta took it as sincere given that they were all about to take part in a deal that had serious potential to be good for Agresta Enterprises, the government of Jabiim and her people. "Mr. di Agresta, welcome back to Jabiim. We're all very pleased to see you again for this finalizing of the deal." di Agresta and Daj shook heads as the reclusive aristocrat from Serenno replied in kind, "Mr. Daj, it's a pleasure. I look forward to signing this deal, being there when it's announced tomorrow but even more so...partaking in some festivities tonight." The two exchanged small laughter.
Shortly thereafter, Daj escorted Jeriko out of the hangar as the two exchanged small, superficial, banter. Internally, the failed Sith and Dark Jedi reached out through the Force to try to feel for Mikaelian's aura. He could sense something but was still surprised that the Jedi Master was both not trying to conceal it and was back on the planet. Jeriko didn't know whether to rejoice that this was going to be easier than expected or to proceed with caution because it might be a trap.
Before long, the two men walked toward a private vehicle that awaited the both of them and drove them to The People's Ballroom. Upon getting out of the car, de Agresta turned to the right and in the distance, in the shadows of nightfall and the way the lights of the city played in the night, Jeriko could see the remnants of the Jedi Temple. It had not been torn down, nor revitalized. It was left as a memorial to the days in which Jabiim turned their fear into a weapon for evil. To Jeriko, it was a reminder of his past and unfinished business. But that would be remedied tonight.
In the midst of his thoughts of the past, the public executions of the Jedi who surrendered, the deaths of Jedi inside of the very building he was staring at now, the death of his former master, Aszil, Jeriko was interrupted by Daj, "The old Jedi Temple." Vaguely, Jeriko responded with a smirk, "I remember from before..." The two ascended the stairs and entered the People's Ballroom where the party had already started. Jeriko was dapper in his dress, confident in his affect, but more importantly he was focused on what he needed to accomplish on this trip.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 29, 2015 8:21:51 GMT -8
Due to age, Mikaelian sauntered toward the Jedi Temple of Jabiim with great slowness and with assistance of his cane. The Jedi Temple that now stood as a memorial, sent a barrage of multiple feelings cascading through his heart and head. In his mind's eye, he could still see the advancing soldiers marching toward the Temple, killing any and all Jedi who resisted, and even those who did not.
He could hear their screams and there was a profound melancholy that befell the aged and exiled Jedi Grand Master who was unable to save his Brothers and Sisters from the mass slaughter. Mikaelian was torn to look at the abandoned building now before; partially saddened that it was never replenished with a new Jedi Order and relieved that no Jedi would ever have to deal with the carnage and haunting memories of what a planet *can* do toward the very institutions that are erected to ensure peace and justice.
As he continued in his stroll, hunched over and held up with a cane due to the sad biology that comes to bear on each and every person with advanced age, Mikaelian finally came upon two guards stationed on patrol at the building. They seemed jovial enough, probably because they believed themselves to be conversing with an ordinary, elderly, man with long white whiskers and incredibly wrinkled skin from what they could tell.
The first guard stepped forward and broke through the singular sounds of the Jedi Grand Master's cane meeting the pavement below, "Out for a stroll tonight, sir?" He asked innocently enough, though Mikaelian was not one for prolonged small talk so he immediately cut to the reason why he stood before these two, young, guards. "Evening, boys...I am hoping to pass through and have a look inside." The second guard stepped forward, seemingly more tense than the first "Sorry, sir, but there are no visitors allowed inside the premises." Mikaelian looked at him and smiled and with a wave of his hand, he stated calmly "I am allowed to pass." To which the guards replied "You're allowed to pass." Mikaelian continued with another wave of his hand "You don't need to call this in." And just as they had before, they repeated after him, in a hypnotic tone "We don't need to call this in." And for the last time, Mikaelian continued in his deployment of his Jedi Mind Trick on the guards, "Move along..." And the guards returned those words back to the old Jedi Master, insisting that he hurry along and get inside.
Once inside of the building, Mikaelian slowly peered at the walls. The very spirits of the Jedi killed there some twenty years ago was palpable to the Jedi Grand Master. Old burn marks still stained the walls, the main staircase in the Grand Lobby still left in tattered. The planet had left it exactly as it was on that day. Mikaelian brought his right hand slowly, and with lots of trembling, toward his mouth. Only his eyes betrayed his otherwise phlegmatic demeanor, as they were consumed in visible sadness.
Slowly, he started to ascend the stairs and made his way toward the old Council Chambers...
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 29, 2015 20:36:02 GMT -8
The concentration required to maintain an effective cloak by manipulating the Force to render her invisible to the naked eye as well as to any mechanical surveillance devices is considerable, but Nithya has had more years than most are granted to refine the technique, and has ways to strengthen her connection to the Force that other Force users do not possess. Slipping past the guests, guards, and surveillance devices outside of, and then within the People's Ballroom is, in the end, a simple enough matter for Nithya.
The thoughts of the female Zeltron she had encountered without the woman ever knowing that she was being observed while on Muunilinst, with her tiny, silly, and small mind as open to Nithya as though it were only so many pages of a book left open, have led her to here to this place on the rain sodden and muddy world of Jabiim; for in the swirling collection of small, silly thoughts, the Zeltron possessed the knowledge Nithya has sought - knowledge of another that seeks what can be learned of the Dark Jedi Order, and of where the seeker could be found. Accustomed to moving through the universe unseen until she wishes to be seen, like a wraith that goes where it will by moving among the busy, blind multitudes, Nithya found a public transport bound for the muddy world the seeker was bound for, and traveled to Jabiim inside of it as a silent, uncounted, and unseen passenger.
Once inside the People's Ballroom, Nithya releases her Force enabled command of light and sound, becoming visible once she has found a balcony overlooking the main ballroom floor. Her telepathy will be sufficient to subtly turn away any unwanted eyes that might chance upon her, and there is one pair of eyes that she wants to find her and so will not turn away as she does any others. Rain water from her drenched gray outer robe, in truth a sari like garment that can be worn many ways and is worn now like a cloak, drips softly to the floor, forming a small pool at her feet as dark eyes, hidden in the shadows beneath her headscarf, search the crowds for the face she has seen only in the thoughts of another. She does not pull her presence in the Force close about her as she otherwise would, for Nithya wants it to be felt by the one she seeks just as she wants him, and him alone, to see her in the shadows; her unconcealed presence - strong, dark and old, so very old, yet vital as as that of one much younger - is an invitation. However, as it is only her presence that she permits to be known, her mind closed off and her thoughts hidden, it is uncertain what the invitation is for.
|
|
|
Post by Jeriko di Agresta on Jan 31, 2015 10:51:55 GMT -8
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 1, 2015 14:57:30 GMT -8
Nithya impassively watches the one she has sought, Jeriko as the inconsequentials surrounding him refer to the human she would treat with, begins to ascend the staircase towards where she waits only to bolt towards an elevator and disappear inside. A smile of commingled amusement and surprise curls the left corner of her lips upwards, unseen beneath her veil as Nithya remains still, eyes on the glowing numerals above the elevator as they begin to count down. There had been vexation in Jeriko's gaze when it had met with hers, as though her presence was an irritation to him, but Nithya saw no fear that would explain his sudden withdrawal; no, there must be another reason for it. Her dark eyes close for a moment as Nithya casts her senses out, those that are hers to command within the Force as well as those unique to her species; highly advanced extrasensory organs enabling her to detect the strength of the life essences of any beings around or near her. Force users, naturally, possess life essences that are vastly more rich and vital than those not so empowered, and so Jeriko's essence sings its song to her, allowing her to then focus on what the Force can reveal of where he is so that she can track him all the more easily.
Her movements languidly unhurried, graceful, and sure, Nithya vaults atop the railing surrounding the balcony and drops nimbly to the floor below. Telepathically willing those that might pay attention to her to take no notice of her, Nithya strides with the deceptively lazy animation of a stalking lioness from the ballroom and out into the rain. Lifting her head, eyes closed as though scenting the air, Nithya listens for the song of Jeriko's life essence, her hooded head pivoting in the direction from which its clarion call can be heard. So swift that for a moment the pattern of her body is left within the falling rain as though she had become invisible, Nithya commands the Force to grant her preternatural swiftness to give chase to he that seeks to elude her, and becomes a pale gray blur streaking swift, silent, and sure through the rain.
Kneeling beside the fallen body of an inconsequential outside of the temple the song sung by Jeriko's life essence has led her to, reaching down to grasp his head to turn it facing upwards, Nithya looks expressionessly at the knife protruding from an eye socket briefly before releasing the head and standing, face turned to the sky with her dark eyes closed as she attends to what her senses can tell her. Jeriko is no longer alone, another life essence near to his inside the temple, and the second life essence sings to her, strong and clear. Opening her eyes, a keen and hungry, predatory glint in them now rather than the glacial calm that had been there before, Nithya looks upward until her eyes find the windows far above behind which the warring songs of Jeriko and the second essence call to her. Focus more difficult now that another song has joined the one she would not make a part of her own, Nithya marshals her command of the Force to gain a sense of what transpires between Jeriko and the other, gleaning enough to understand the other is prey to Jeriko. With that understanding need replaces want, and Jeriko is all but forgotten temporarily as Nithya takes a few slow steps back and then lowers herself into a crouch, summoning the Force to her. The song of the other calls to her, singing of the strength that will be hers when she takes it into her and joins it with her own, and the smile of an addict about to inject their drug of choice into a vein rises on her lips beneath her veil as Nithya lowers her head while continuing to call the Force to her.
The rain patters softly on her hood as, an unmarked threshold having been crossed and now signals the time has come to put thought into action, Nithya raises her head, eyes narrowing as they fall upon the windows and focus on the shadowy back of the other that can be seen faintly just behind them. Leaping swiftly and violently upwards, the Force augmenting her already superhuman athleticism and strength, Nithya bursts through the windows in a rain of exploding glass and a musical tinkling symphony of sound. Continuing to move with the swiftness she demands the Force grant unto her, Nithya will reach out to enwrap the old man from behind in an embrace as strong and unyielding as stone, and should she succeed will vault without pause backwards through the shattered windows to spirit her prize away and to the grounds below. Her mind is closed to any that would try and pierce it to gain a sense of her purpose, and it amuses her in a dim and distant corner of her mind to think the old man may even think her an angel come to save him in his hour of need; the salvation she has in mind in truth only a temporary one. Jeriko would only waste the old man's death, silencing his song when Nithya would make it a part of her own, growing stronger for it. A pity there is no time to explain, but the song sung by the old man's essence has excited her insatiable, fathomless appetite, and it waits for no one, heeds no one, not even Nithya herself when a song calls to it loudly enough. She will have the old man, Nithya does not doubt it for a moment, it is now only a question of whether her embrace and retreat are swift enough that Jeriko is not unfortunate enough to foolishly try to keep her from her feast . . .
|
|
|
Post by Jeriko di Agresta on Feb 1, 2015 18:30:22 GMT -8
By the time Nithya had arrived to the Jedi Temple, an already tense reunion between Mikaelian and Jeriko had grown even more so. No sooner did Mikaelian and Jeriko both slowly make for their sabers, the large windows behind Mikaelian, the very same that he was peering out into just moments ago, shattered completely with incredible force. Mikaelian felt a strong presence wrap around his person and send him out of the Council chambers cascading to the ground below. Breaking from the grip that encompassed him just moments prior, he was able to call the Force to him to aid in a soft landing on his old, brittle, bones where he stood with his saber in hand and activated, the beautiful blue hue illuminated the dark and rainy night around him.
Jeriko, on the other hand, as the glass shattered ceased in his pursuit for his blade, as Mikaelian was yanked from the Council chambers, noticed a figure in mid-air who was obviously responsible for the debauchery. It was of little, initial, consequence to Jeriko as he calmly summoned the Force to himself in the same split-second that he spied Nithya and unleashed a powerful salvo of a push toward her that he hoped would occupy her sufficiently to create adequate distance and time. The rich and reclusive di Agresta was unsure if this was the same figure he encountered in the People's Ballroom and what this person's agenda was but decided that he was undeterred by either thought at the moment.
Without wasting a moment, Jeriko sprinted towards the massive opening that Nithya created by shattering the window and could see Mikaelian thanks, in part, to the illuminated saber in the old man's hand below. With little thought, Jeriko called the Force to himself once more to aid in his descent as he flipped and catapulted downward toward the Grand Master. By the time he landed, Jeriko's red saber was ignited and hummed softly in his right hand. Knowing now that time was precious with just himself and the elder Grand Master, Jeriko immediately attacked Mikaelian and the two were intertwined in an incredibly quick-paced saber duel. This was due, in no small part, thanks to Mikaelian's own strong connection to the Force as he used his knowledge to supplement himself where his natural strength had left him.
Jeriko's brash and abrasive style of combat was parried in kind by Mikaelian's own expertise with a blade. There were moments in the intense battle where it seemed as though one participant might have an opening to strike a fatal or substantial blow to have the nimbleness and agility of the other quickly protect themselves and close an opening where an opening appeared just split-seconds prior.
Finally, there was but one opportunity where there only ever needs to be one in high-stakes combat such as this where one duelist was able to capitalize. With their saber blades collided and unmovable as both men pressed them together, Jeriko was able to push forward with sufficient strength to cause Mikaelian to react in such a way where his torso was exposed. Unfortunately, for Jeriko, his own blade was cast aside, and so di Agresta brought his boot up and kicked Mikaelian in the chest.
The Grand Master was sent backward and, unable to brace himself, fell back on the wet ground harshly. Approaching Mikaelian in haste, Jeriko was met by the Grand Master who twisted his torso just enough to face di Agresta to unleash a powerful Force Push which caused Jeriko to slam into the building in which they came from. The two men, noticeably slow to collect themselves, seemed to be at a stalemate of sorts for the time being. What might appear to be something choreographed, the two men reached for sabers and, after obtaining them, ignited them once more. The familiar snap-hiss and subsequent hum of their respective blades pierced through the otherwise typical nightly sounds of the rain-soaked planet...
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 1, 2015 23:00:55 GMT -8
For one brief instant it seems to Nithya that the speed, stealth, and surprise that have all served her well in her long past will do so once more; the old man secured in her grasp before the shower of shattered glass or her feet have reached the floor. And then all is momentarily wrenched from her grasp when the Force push hits her like a crashing wave, sending her back into the falling rain. It has been so long since she has felt anything akin to anxiety or panic, and longer still since fear has touched her, and so Nithya feels none of those things or their kin as the ground rushes up to meet her. Twisting acrobatically as she plummets out and then down, her sodden sari rustling wetly about her, Nithya feels only an icy resolve to win back the old man's fate as she bids the Force to slow and control her descent.
Her headscarf having fallen back as she fell, Nithya lands, cat-like, in a crouch several yards behind her prey as the one that would deny her the kill and need to feast that drives her now hits the ground in front of her prey, a blood-red blade already singing in his right hand. Her waist length black hair already soaked and clinging to her robes at her back, Nithya slides her left knee back, leaning forward and bending her right knee up to her chest as her hands rest on the ground at shoulder width so that she looks like a runner waiting on the starting line. And then Nithya waits, utterly still as she draws the Force to her while intently watching the deadly dance between her prey and Jeriko unfold. Let them weaken one another, Nithya thinks, coiled to pounce should it seem that her prey will falter and be taken from her, or should an opening appear for her to exploit to try and ensure that she is not denied her feast. Her eyes alone move, following the duel's progress with a focus so intense that all else - falling rain, chill night air, the keening and hiss of lightsabers clashing - recedes from her awareness. Addiction drives her now, and Nithya resolves that the life essence of the old man will not be denied her; her business with Jeriko is not forgotten, but its importance is less than that of sating the hunger that has been awakened in her; she will secure her prey first, and only then treat with Jeriko, if he can be made to listen.
Splaying her fingers outwards when Jeriko is thrown back against a temple wall, Nithya still waits, watching her prey slowly regain his feet as Jeriko does the same. As the hiss of rain, some drops falling on ignited lightsabers to evaporate into tiny coils of steam that spiral upwards, becomes the only sound to be heard as her prey and Jeriko face one another in what may be the only break in their deadly dance, Nithya bursts violently, silently, and swiftly into motion. Launching herself forward to close the distance between her and the old man, Nithya pounces like a jungle cat when that distance is closed in the blinking of an eye - drawing her knees up so that they will, if her prey's focus on the opponent in front of him prevents him from realizing the danger approaching from behind, bury themselves in the old man's back with sufficient violence to shatter bone. With a surgical precision, Nithya orients her knees so that the left should crush the old man's 5th through 8th vertebrae, and the right is positioned to do the same to his upper thoracic vertebrae. If the strikes land true, Nithya will succeed in rendering her prey incapable of moving his arms, hands, hips, and legs while leaving him the ability to breathe.
Nithya needs the old man alive when she feeds after all. . .
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 2, 2015 19:36:27 GMT -8
Four days previously on Coruscant.
Obscurus paced around the small room that he called his own in the abandoned building he resided in amongst the criminals and marginalized on Coruscant. With every step, the floor creaked below his boots, the foul mask concealed a face that was rived by thought. He was unsure, for a brief moment, if his methods to extract the truth from a forsaken world, were working for him. The ritualized slaughter of thousands over the years to try to find the answers to his past, eluded him still.
It was this very thought that crossed his mind as suddenly the rattling of metal chains disturbed his thoughts. His prisoner, a young woman no more than thirty standard years, tried to free herself from the shackles that bound her. A week earlier, he had been contacted by Waldor Garosa and given strict instructions to make this woman, his estranged daughter who threatened to go to the authorities and the press with what she had learned about her father, disappear. Her name was Melinda Garosa and on this day, she would become one with the ages, forever.
This was also a beneficial deal to Obscurus for the sick and twisted man sought the answers to what had happened to him in his past through the death of others. He believed the only truth that could be found in this abysmal galaxy was in the moments after death and so Melinda was just another step on this path toward a disturbing nirvana, but a nirvana he sought just the same.
=Melinda Garosa= "HELP ME!! SOMEONE!!!
The Dark Lord of the Sith walked towards her slowly and stopped a mere foot away from her. Obscurus' head was cocked to the right side of his body as his thin form moved in rhythm to his slow and labored breathing. The twisted Sith Lord took out his blade and examined it as he held it out in front of his face, close to his eyes, still with his neck bent to the right side. From behind his mask he spoke to her with his own voice unassisted through the Force. Even though the mask muffled it some, it would be clear to his prisoner that with labored breath, came labored words behind them spoken in a tone that suggested the man behind the fearsome mask was incredibly old and feeble. "There is no one to save you. There is...nothing left for you...There's nothing for...any of us."
And with that, Obscurus drove his knife into the neck of the woman. Melinda's last scream abruptly ceased by the fatal blow. She bled profusely. The Darksider removed the knife from the side of her throat and drove it once more through her chest before he retired the weapon on the floor behind him.
Garosa's daughter's lifeless body dangled from the shackles as it tried to fall forward and onto the ground, denied by the confines of her imprisonment. Obscurus got a much longer blade, with a much sharper edge and wasted no time cutting her navel to neck and extracting organ after organ with his gloved hands. He stopped and examined each for any clues as to his own past. He was convinced the answers were inside of anyone and everyone. Obscurus was determined to find them.
After the organs were removed from the body, Obscurus placed them into a bag and hung them over a fire to burn them down into nothingness. Once they were ash inside the bag, Obscurus would then remove half of his mask, which revealed his horrifically mutilated mouth and severely damaged nose. He would then snort the ashes and lay back and cock his head up towards the ceiling. After a few moments, Obscurus leaned his head back forward and admired his masterpiece. The hallowed out body of his prisoner as he questioned the Dark Side of the Force for his answers. He needed a sign that he was on the right path...
Two days later, he awoke in the middle of the night with a singular focus, to return to Jabiim. He had further business to discuss with Waldor given that their last meeting, Garosa hinted on having a visitor coming to Jabiim that might require Obscurus' attention and dissection. Upon his arrival to the planet, there was a tremor in the Force so strong and powerful that he rushed toward it as fast as he could, leaping on the tops of buildings in the night, not afflicted in the slightest by the rain. The gangly, 6'8" frame of the masked Sith went largely unnoticed as he was able to pounce from roof to roof gingerly before finding the conflict in which he sought.
There, below, were two distinguishable sabers one red and the blue tangled in what appeared to be a tense stand-off before it broke off. He noticed one was significantly older than the other and it was this old man who appeared to just receive a blow to his back as he loudly screamed in pain. This scream aroused Obscurus' imagination and slowly, with great care, he descended further and further down toward the ground in which this fight took place, noticing a third participant in this combat.
The old man, Mikaelian, dropped down to his knees, his wrinkled face and beard saturated from the rain looked upward as the younger man ran toward him, his red saber still illuminated whilst the Jedi's wasn't. And though his deformed and faulty ears weren't usually something that would serve the Dark Lord of the Sith well, they did on this night as he could hear Mikaelian say to the younger man, "There is no honor in besting an old man like this..."
And that is where Obscurus ceased to be a passive observer and became an active party in this combat. Stepping out from far-side of the building, behind the younger man and the female he was with, came Obscurus. His own understanding and knowledge of the Force being nearly immeasurable, he reached out and sought to grab both the young man and the female, his right arm, lanky in nature, stretched out with his long, slender gloved fingers slowly coming together as if trying to make a fist. Once in his grasps, he sought to apply a choke on both of them and as quickly as he landed the choke, Obscurus would throw them back in the same direction. If successful, the younger male would most likely land inches away from the female that Obscurus believed was working in tandem with him.
This left Mikaelian to Obscurus. Like lightning, Obscurus closed the distance as Mikaelian, strangely, made no attempt to save himself. The old man simply closed his eyes and took his final breath as the gawky Sith Lord drove his own red saber through the chest of the Jedi Master and held it there. The widened eyes of his kill now apparent as he fell forward a bit with the saber still through his person before Obscurus shut it off. Mikaelian died almost instantly thereafter.
In this moment, Obscurus looked over toward Jeriko and Nithya but was interrupted from pursuing them any further as more than a dozen armed guards came to the once-proud Temple of the Jedi to investigate why their comrades had not reported in and, noticing that they had been killed, immediately drew their weapons whilst they continued their search of the building. As the armed guards started to close the distance from 100 yards, to 75 yards, Obscurus hoisted Mikaelian's lifeless body over his shoulder and escaped leaving Jeriko and Nithya to deal both with what had just happened to them and what *might* happen to them with the advancing guards. What would happen to Mikaelian's body would be the very same that happened to Melinda's after Obscurus hurried death to her. A grizzly and gruesome end for a man who devoted his life to the Light Side of the Force.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 5, 2015 21:47:33 GMT -8
Nithya, keeping a wary eye on where Jeriko stands off in the distance, walks slowly around the old man after he has fallen to his knees in the rain. Not needing to see Jeriko to maintain an awareness of whether he will move to stop her, trusting that the Force will see that she is forewarned of any impending danger from the one she has come here to seek, Nithya squats in front of the old man, tilting her head to the side inquisitively as he tells Jeriko that there is no honor in besting him in such fashion, and then reaches out to place her hands on either side of the old man's head, almost reverently, to hold it still as she begins to bring her face closer to his as though to bestow a kiss upon his lips. The sides of the veil covering her nose and mouth move as though something writhes beneath it on either side. When her face is mere inches from he old man's, a hungry glint shines in her eyes as Nithya moves one hand from his cheek to grasp his head from behind while the other up reaches up towards her veil to pull it down.Before Nithya's hand reaches her veil, her eyes widen in a combination of shock and outrage as she feels an invisible vice-like grip close around her neck. Her eyes move to find the source of the threat her attention on Jeriko had allowed to catch her unawares, but no sooner does she glimpse the masked figure than she is cast violently backwards to slam into the wall of the temple not far from where Jeriko has been similarly thrown. Reaching out with her hands to break her fall after she rebounds off the temple wall, Nithya's head whips up to find the one that has come between her and her prey in time to witness the old man's death. Her hands curling into fists as she watches the masked, clearly masculine figure that has robbed her of the opportunity to not only temporarily quell the ever-present hunger that resides within her, but also the means to strengthen her connection with the Force by making the old man's life essence a part of her own, flee from the scene with the old man's body.
The storm than rains down might cover the sounds of the approaching guards from a normal being, but Nithya is far from such a one, and so allows her rage to fuel her response to the approaching threat. Standing with her rain soaked hair falling in a messy curtain over her face, Nithya betrays no evidence of fear or even concern as the dozen armed beings move to surround her and Jeriko, their weapons trained on them, nor does she listen to the shouts to raise their hands and surrender. Lifting her hands, not in surrender, but to push her hair from her face, Nithya marshals her command of the Dark Side of the Force to reach out with her mind to instill in the dozen beings a sudden and irresistible state of frenzied madness that causes them all to forget about her and Jeriko. Some of the beings lose control of their bladders or bowels, others try to flee as the fear, sense of hoplessness, and panic overwhelms their deranged frenzy, and some freeze up completely. It makes no difference in the the end, for they all die in the brief, violent tumult that results from Nithya's invasion of their minds.
Before the sounds of the blaster fire and the moans or screams have ended, Nithya lifts her hood over her head and, the twelve beings all but forgotten, turns to Jeriko as though they are not at odds despite earlier events to ask in a calm voice that is husky as though from infrequent use, "The one in the mask, what do you know of him?"
|
|
|
Post by Jeriko di Agresta on Feb 8, 2015 10:40:44 GMT -8
Denied the kill! Jeriko toiled for long hours, spent a fortune on tracking Mikaelian down and meticulously mapped out the daily habits of his prey all to have it thwarted by this masked...thing...that arrived unannounced and uninvited to say nothing of the fact at how annoying Nithya's own arrival was to him. Quickly, he controlled his incredibly vast amount of anger and aggravation of the whole thing. Nithya might be of use to him, in some way and killing her now, or at least trying to was difficult given the arrival of the guards and it even seemed a touch hasty to him. But damn it, did it hurt Jeriko a bit to watch Mikaelian die from another's fatal strike to then only be carried off to who knows where, for who knows what purpose. Although he had been an assassin for a long time and had the experience of something happening to his "projects" that was no inflicted by himself and as such this feeling of annoyance was not foreign to him, the fact that it was personal between he and Mikaelian and to have it end the way it did was a bitter pill for the failed Sith turned Dark Jedi to swallow.
Jeriko was incredibly stunned at the fact that he did not have the strength to break from the force grip of the lanky, sinister, Dark Lord of the Sith that he had just encountered. The internal reflection on his failings and the disappointment with it was cut very short when the reinforcement of guards came upon both he and Nithya. Calling the Force to himself, and coming back to his feet, he ceased in his demand for supernatural assistance when he noticed that Nithya had make quick work of the guards; the fools running around in fear, some even defecating on themselves. There was so little about humanity that was redeemable, or remarkable, to the reclusive di Agresta.
The mysterious di Agresta heard the question spoken to him in a strange, husky, tone which sharply contrasted her otherwise lithe femininity. Right as he was about to respond, he could hear in the distance aircraft overhead that he quickly assumed functioned as aerial support for the guards on the ground. His suspicious were correctly affirmed when he quickly looked over Nithya's shoulder and spied the strong light which the aircraft carried as it ricocheted off of one building in the distance as though someone in the aircraft was trying to stabilize the swinging orb of bright, white, light.
Without wasting a second, and not wishing to be apprehended or any way associated with what had occurred here on this night, Jeriko grabbed the left wrist of Nithya with enough force to bring her with him but without seeming to be aggressive or in some combative sense. It was not long before the two disappeared in the alley, their path headed back in the direction in which they both came - the People's Ballroom. Finally, Jeriko came to a halt and released his grip on the female tracker who, surprisingly enough, resisted minimally as he pulled her long with him on this path. With great calmness and maybe, to some, an unsettling amount of serenity given the circumstances that they both found themselves in, Jeriko spoke in a matter-of-fact-like tone to Nithya, ignoring her question initially from before, "Listen, we have to get inside the Ballroom. If we stay out here, eventually they *will* catch up to us...." Looking down at himself to the rain-soaked clothes he was wearing, it dawned on him that he had no idea how he was going to play this off at the party. Jeriko needed to be seen again unless he wanted to arouse suspicions of where he had been. "And no, I have no clue who the hell that was but something tells me, we'll see him again. We need to figure out how to get back inside this Ballroom, as soaked as we are, without it coming off as overly-suspicious. Any ideas?"
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 8, 2015 21:16:17 GMT -8
After Jeriko releases her wrist once he has guided them back to the shelter of the tents outside of People's Ballroom, Nithya tilts her head to the side at an inquisitive angle as the first thing he chooses to speak of after all that has transpired is his, baffling to her, concern about returning to the gathering of inconsequentials inside the Ballroom. Understanding comes quickly enough, however, for though Nithya chooses to exist and move outside of so-called "normal" society, she grasps from what he says that Jeriko does not, and therefore cannot afford to arouse any suspicion where his social personae is concerned. Returning her head to an upright position, her eyes and expression appearing distant for a moment as she takes stock of their surroundings and reviews the options available to them in order to formulate a plan.
Animation returning to her eyes and what little of her expression can be read with the lower half of her face concealed beneath her veil, Nithya places a hand on Jeriko's shoulder and pushes him gently backwards towards a shadowy, presently unoccupied corner of the tent they are sheltering beneath. Once safely ensconced in the shadows, her telepathic manipulation ensuring that no curious eyes that might seek to pierce the shadows linger long enough to detect them, Nithya tells him in her seldom used and as yet husky voice, "Get undressed, without explaining the reason for the calmly delivered order. When she sees the lack of comprehension in his eyes, Nithya smiles unseen beneath her veil as, beginning to remove her headscarf and sari-like cloak, she urges him just as calmly, Hurry. The reason for her request is explained not long afterwards, two guests from the party inside - their expressions doll-like and blank and their movements somewhat stilted as it is Nithya that controls their actions - stumble unsteadily into the shadows where Nithya and Jeriko have taken refuge. Give us your clothes," Nithya bids the human couple, who comply without hesitation, undressing and surrendering their dry garments to her and Jeriko without another word being spoken.
Once she has dressed in the woman's, in Nithya's opinion absurdly tailored, ridiculously extravagant gown, Nithya tells the couple, "Go home, and leans to the side as she wrings her waist length hair out after twisting it into a ponytail. Once her hair is as dry as it can be made in the present circumstances, Nithya arranges it in as stylish a bun as she can and turns to see how near to being ready Jeriko is. Reaching out to brush his hair more neatly to the side, Nithya, her voice slightly less hoarse now that she is using it more often, says, There. I doubt any of the inconsequentials possess the wit to note your suit has changed. Let us go inside." An annoyed expression accompanies the first wobbly steps Nithya, who has never worn such outlandish footwear as the heels worn by the woman she took them from wore, takes, and she kicks them off before, putting an arm through Jeriko's and walking close to his side to covey the impression they know one another well, following him barefooted into the Ballroom.
|
|
|
Post by Jeriko di Agresta on Feb 9, 2015 9:59:52 GMT -8
Taken aback by her insistence that he disrobe, Jeriko at first hesitated until her plan became a bit more clear to him with her control of another couple to remove their own clothes and relinquish them to both himself and Nithya. Before long, Jeriko found himself complying with his newly acquired female companion whilst stealing glances at Nithya's own bare figure which was impressively well-toned and beautiful in a way in which was, obviously, harder to detect prior to this moment considering that they were, not long ago, engaged in fighting each other and to the death if need be. However, he did not allow himself to remain amongst his more primal thoughts which were woefully typical for most males to possess.
No sooner did Jeriko fully disrobe, he began to dress once more in the clothes of the male that Nithya lured into a hypnotic state of obedience. The reclusive aristocrat found the other man's taste in attire to be wanting and strikingly abhorrent once he realized just how cheaply made the suit clearly was. Jeriko sighed as this was, yet again, another example of a rich person demonstrating just how frugal the "upper-class" really was, for the most part. Finding a secure place to store his lightsaber and half-dozen knives as well as his most precious item - his red-leather bound journal which chronicled his killings in grisly detail, di Agresta turned toward Nithya and flashed a smirk and a slight chuckle as he watched the Tracker kick off the heels she recently came into possession of off her feet. The fit of the suit was a bit tight as Jeriko was quite muscular himself from his countless hours of training and this other fellow, from whom the clothes originally belonged to, clearly was not accustomed to the daily grind of physical conditioning.
Ever the suave-gentleman when he needed to be, or desired to be, Jeriko brought his right arm out, in a bend to allow Nithya to place her own arm through his. Re-entering the People's Ballroom from which they both had originated, Jeriko shifted his head slightly to his right, toward Nithya, while keeping his gaze ahead, he quietly says to Nithya with an ever-so-slight amount of annoyance, mostly still present from the fact that he was unsuccessful in his primary goal which was to kill Mikaelian, "I want to know who you are and how the hell you even found me in the first place."
The conversation that di Agresta had initiated with his female companion was abruptly stalled as Jason Daj strolled over toward Jeriko and Nithya and spoke with little care as to what the aristocrat from Serenno and his date were engaged in, "Mr. di Agresta! There you are! We were all looking for you." Jeriko wasted no time to return a reply in kind, "Mr. Daj, I had to step out for a moment and..." Cut off yet again by a rude member of the elite class of Jabiim, the portly and stout Mr. Garosa intervened with his raspy voice, "Jeriko, chap! Is this the Mrs?" Jeriko felt Nithya tense up and, seeking to ease her anxiety, the Sith turned Dark Jedi smirked and gracefully moved past the otherwise intrusive question, though it seemed clearly to be made with no intention to be as such, "Not yet, Mr. Garosa. I keep asking her and she keeps saying no..." Jeriko turned and looked at Nithya, and she toward him, where he met her with a smile though his eyes displayed just how little he was really enjoying this exchange. The group of men laughed heartily as the lights began to flicker which indicated that something was about to happen that required the attention of all in attendance.
As the lights flickered, Garosa stood looking at Nithya sternly. There was something about all of this that didn't add up to him. Garosa had not previously known that Jeriko was romantically involved at all and thought that he had conducted a thorough vetting process. No, no, no...something wasn't right here at all and he couldn't put his finger on it. The fact that Jeriko had changed suits, however, went largely unnoticed by all in attendance.
It was then that the emcee for the evening strolled behind a podium erected on the far-left side of the Ballroom, clear across from where they all stood and made a quick announcement which interrupted the paranoid thoughts of the billionaire from Jabiim, Garosa. "On behalf of Mr. Waldor Garosa, we would like to welcome you all here. As you know, Mr. Jeriko di Agresta and his company Agresta Enterprises recently won the Sole Source Contract to study the atmospheric pressure here on Jabiim as to improve the planet's capability to receive repulsor starcraft. This innovation is an enormous..." He waited for the applause to die down that had erupted over the announcement and then continued from the previous sentence he had started."...this innovation is an enormous opportunity for this planet to make the leap from being a rainy rock to one of the major power players in the universe. Through donations from all of you and Mr. Garosa as well as the tireless work of those at Agresta Enterprises, Jabiim's best days are clearly ahead of her." The applause burst through once more as the emcee remained at the podium and smiled. This time, however, he didn't allow the applause to completely die down as he closed his statement. "Once again, on behalf of Mr. Garosa, thank you all for coming out tonight! Now, to the dancing!" The emcee gestured toward his left and a spotlight came upon a five-member band who began to play slow, melodic, music.
Jeriko took this opportunity to break away, once more, from the who's-who of Jabiim and to inquire further with Nithya as to who the hell she was, seeing as though if the Tracker didn't know his name and occupation before, she certainly did by now. "Gentlemen, if you will excuse me, the lady and I are going to sneak in a dance or two..." Without waiting for permission or goodbyes, Jeriko gently grabs Nithya's hand and leads her to the center of an already crowded dance floor. Soon after, he placed his left hand on her right hip as her left hand slowly moved toward his up-turned right palm. He spoke not a word initially...
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 12, 2015 21:04:02 GMT -8
Unaccustomed to moving openly among those she considers, by and large, inferior and primarily inconsequential players upon the board on which the battle between order and chaos is waged, Nithya ignores Jeriko's bleating as she spends the first several moments in the ballroom watching the various females present to learn how they act so that she might better blend in among them while she is playing the role circumstance has dictated she must play for now so that Jeriko's freedom is unhampered by the pursuit that may have been mounted to hunt those responsible for the removal of a few worthless pawns from the board when they made their escape from the old temple after the masked being intruded in their affairs. Bit by bit Nithya adjusts her expressions and posture to match those of the women around her, temporarily shedding some of the furtive and casual predator's grace that normally defines her bearing so she will seem merely one more socialite among many.
Laughing the tinkling, bright laugh she has heard others in the room employ when Jeriko jests that he has asked for her hand many times only to be repeatedly refused, Nithya's normally impassive and watchful expression has been transformed to an animated and contented one that matches her cheerful, affectionate, and refined drawl as she pats Jeriko's arm tenderly and tells him, "Oh, you. Her voice carrying only a slight hint of its earlier huskiness as more frequent use enlivens it, Nithya smiles as she tells Garosa, Do not believe a word he says, he enjoys his bachelorhood far too much to sacrifice it willingly," having read the thought in the mind of an inconsequential earlier when scanning the room to adopt the appropriate mannerisms to walk among them unnoticed.
Clapping along with the raptly listening inconsequentials with the appropriate level of enthusiasm while convincingly feigning attending to the bleating of another inconsequential that addresses them, Nithya, with the infinite patience of one for who time means so very little, waits for an opportunity to speak to Jeriko of the things she has sought him out to speak of. Their opportunity comes not long after the bleating and childish clapping have ended, when Jeriko excuses them from the pawns and leads her onto the dance floor where they will be able to use the crowds, noise, and motion to speak openly without fear of being overheard. Having watched enough of the dancing to understand what it requires, Nithya lightly clasps Jeriko's right hand with her left as she rests her right on his left hip, easily mimicking the movements of the pawns with a lazy, unselfconscious grace. Trusting that Jeriko has the ability to enhance his hearing, Nithya rests her chin upon his shoulder and barely moves her lips as she speaks to him in a soft whisper that he should be able to hear even over the music, speaking unhurriedly, as though time is not a concern for her, and in a musing manner that suggests putting her thoughts into words meant to be understood by others is not a custom familiar to her, "I learned of the Dark Jedi too late to have walked among them before their light was extinguished, but not so late that I could not learn of what they had taught, and what they stood for. Learning of them, I vowed the ember burning brightly in their ashes would one day be uncovered and rekindled to burn anew; to cleanse in, once reborn, the Dark Jedi Order's purifying flames the corruption and weakness that has been allowed to spread like a cancer throughout the universe. To become a keeper of the flame, naturally, I needed to seek out and preserve all that remained of the Dark Jedi Order's history, teachings, and relics. I journeyed to those places the Order had walked, fought, built, and finally died; but always others had been to those places before me, had plundered, or perhaps preserved, those things I sought. So I learned what I could in other ways, in histories written, recorded, spoken, and even those existing only in the thoughts of others. It was in the thoughts of another that I learned of you, Jeriko di Agresta; and learned too that you, like me, would see the Dark jedi Order's fire blaze anew. And so, Nithya concludes, I came here," and falls silent as she patiently awaits Jeriko's response to what she has shared with him so far.
|
|
|
Post by Jeriko di Agresta on Feb 15, 2015 6:45:06 GMT -8
Throughout their dance and conversation, Mr. Garosa kept a watchful eye on the pair as he grew more and more paranoid of his new business colleague. There was something, too, about the woman that he was with that didn't sit well with the billionaire. Garosa made a resolution to enlist Obscurus's assistance to try to find out who these two were, and if need be, eliminate them entirely. Garosa made quickly left the Ballroom area and proceeded up the grand staircase on the balcony where Nithya had been when she first arrived. The billionaire would contact the Dark Lord of the Sith that very night and in the days to come, there would be a conclusion to this issue with Jeriko and his female friend for good.
Jeriko paid zero attention to Garosa both in the time he spent gazing at both he and Nithya and his premature exit from what was turning out to be a rather fascinating, though slightly frustrating, evening. The Sith turned Dark Jedi preferred to work alone; to work with another proved to be, both in his own experience and through reading some of the texts and tomes of the Dark Jedi who came before, a liability. However, as he listened with the assistance of the Force to improve his ability to do so given the incredibly quiet nature in which she spoke, di Agresta did agree that her goals were his goals. Her wants were her wants. When she reveals that in the thoughts of another, she learned of him, the reclusive aristocrat immediately knew that it was Essa Samara who betrayed him through her weak-mindedness. Samara was shackled to an examination table in his basement back home on Serenno and would pay dearly for transgression, regardless of the fact that she might not have intended to reveal anything.
Politely did Jeriko listen to her, careful to keep a smiling face as if to portray the whisperings as sensual sweet-nothings from one lover to another. The wealthy C.E.O. of Agresta Enterprises made a slight, though noticeable gesture to others - any others who might have had their eyes land on he and Nithya in that moment - as he moved the hand that had rested on her hip just slightly towards the small-of-her-back and nudged her body closer to his as kept his mouth right near her ear and returned a similar message to her, in the same volume that Nithya had used just moments prior, all while keeping an enamored look on his face and a carefree smile, "You've got immense strength and capabilities with The Force, I saw it and I mean it. You are incredibly skilled. But are you truly one who has read from the history of the Dark Jedi and learned something? Do you not see how the Orders have failed time and time again? If you think I am going to just start an order that would match the size of the last three you are as crazy as you are mysterious. And tell me, mysterious one, have you thought of an end game beyond just re-creating the Dark Jedi Order? Is there an ultimate goal for one such as you who lives in the shadows yet wants to rip open the casket of the Dark Jedi Order, resurrect her corpose and prop her back up on the galactic stage?" It was then that he caught a quick gaze with Jason Daj, the assistant to Garosa. The two men shared a smile as Daj pointed at Nithya and then gave him the thumbs up indicating that he believed Jeriko had done well to have landed such an attractive woman. Jeriko kindly smiled and nodded as inwardly he sighed. Humanity was such a lost cause, it wasn't even up for debate to the young di Agresta who finished his thought to Nithya, "Besides, you haven't even told me your name. What kind of an Order can we start where only one of us knows the other's identity?"
Meanwhile, Mr. Garosa who had removed himself from both the eyes of the other guests as well as their prying ears, tried frantically to get in touch with Obscurus. The Dark Lord of the Sith was, rather, indisposed after eviscerating Mikaelian's corpse and removing all of his internal organs. Within moments of completing that, he grounded down the organs into ashes and snorted them. As his own com-link was going off like crazy, Obscurus remained in a hypnotic-like state in which would last for the remainder of the night and into a good chunk of the following day. Garosa might have had an agenda but Obscurus didn't truly care. The Sith looked at Garosa as someone who could potentially point out the people in the universe who had the answers to his past, in which the Sith desperately searched for. The answers to his present. The answers to it all. Obscurus didn't just kill and violate any old corpse, you know? It had to be the right one. The "right ones" being those of deceased Jedi, Sith, and Dark Jedi or, even, the very rich and powerful of the galaxy. Within the death of people like that, Obscurus was convinced that he could find the answers to his life.
And so, after what he had done to Mikaelian was complete, Obscurus lay on his back in the shelter that he occupied on Jabiim and listened to the pounding rain ignoring the beeps of the com-link given to him by Garosa. Obscurus had some soul-searching, of sorts, to do.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 21, 2015 8:24:08 GMT -8
Though she keeps a contented, slightly amused smile on her lips to match the smiles of the females she has been observing around them as she and Jeriko dance, inwardly Nithya feels some of her excitement at having at last encountered the one that she has sought for so long and in whom she had placed such hope dampen as she listens to him speak; his caution and doubt seem as a cloak for fear and hesitation to her, excuses to dream rather than do. Some hope lingers on within her, for Nithya has lived long enough to have learned that what is interpreted from listening to another is not always an accurate reading, and so she keeps any note of disappointment from betraying itself in her whispered voice as, to continue maintaining the image of an enraptured couple they are endeavoring to paint for any inconsequentials that might pay them any heed, she rests her cheek beside Jeriko's and says softly in his ear for only him to hear, "I chose for myself, when the time came for choosing, the name Nithya, and later, to complete it, chose the full name Nithya Tandon. It has been longer than she can remember that she has shared her name with another being that did not perish not long after learning of it, a thought that makes Nithya laugh softly for reasons of her own, and it is a moment before she resumes speaking once more in the same languid, unhurried tone that Jeriko may soon learn is the one that is her most oft employed tone. Those that do not learn from the past, it is often said, are doomed to repeat it. I do not wish to slavishly recreate an Order that, while its intentions and motivations were worthy and pure, failed just as you have noted. Laughing once more without explaining the reasons for her laughter, thinking of how very long a past it is that she has to draw from and reminding herself that Jeriko is, comparatively speaking, so very, very young and inexperienced, Nithya falls into another hushed pause as she considers how best to express herself to a being that will necessarily have such a vastly different idea of time or what can be achieved in a lifetime. Your caution and your desire to build an Order to endure the ebb and flow of time, and the other vagaries that can eat a thing from within are admirable only to the extent that they do not bind you to inaction. Cautious contemplation is valuable only if it is acted upon rather than allowed to fester. Goals? Goals are mutable, or must be if they are to survive. My goals I have already shared with you, had you listened well. I have no desire to disinter the corpse of a failed Order, no. I wish to breathe life into the embers left laying beneath the ashes of the corpse's pyre; embers that I would see grow into the flames of the Order as it was at its height of embodying its ideals, before it bloated and rotted from within. You are right in concerning yourself with size. Care must needs be taken when rekindling a flame, must it not? Let it grow too large and it will die out from want of fuel or because it lacks the strength to endure the winds that will challenge it. It must be protected, at first, nurtured and allowed to grow strong. Its fuel must be selectively chosen, must it not? Now then, Nithya smiles, her grip tightening on his hand and hip enough that he will understand the raw strength she possesses while her tone loses all hint of warmth as she asks in a tone cold and very obviously final, I have answered your questions, so you will answer mine. I have but one, Jeriko di Agresta. Are you one content to merely dream, to cautiously ponder all the possibilities and consider all the angles of a goal? Or are you one who would forge that which you dream of, and see it realized?"
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 5, 2015 20:35:11 GMT -8
Heavy smoke rose over the Hyber Canyon, located in the direction of the Northern pole of Jabiim. Smoke had hung over the canyon for several days now, alongside heavy rain and loud, vicious thunder. In the shadows of a Clone War Era command center, once one of the strongholds of the Nationlist Army, two armies fought tooth and nail in a war of seemingly unending attrition. According to recent news boardcasts on Jabiim, the Jabiim Rebels, led by Argon Kahn, a major opponent of the Stratus-led regime, had fallen back after a defeat at Razor Coast. Despite losses, Argon was joined by several other nearby rebel groups, giving him command the full opposition presence within the region of Hyber Canyon. On the Loyalist side, Lord Crix III was reinforced by his brother, Jaered, and elements of the elite Palace Guard, as they marched for the Canyon where Argon was drawing his lines for a fierce confrontation. The two armies met on a rainy afternoon and engaged battle immediately...
Today marked the fourth day of battle and, so far, no advantages had been gained by either side. Lord Crix held the center with Jaered commanding the left flank and a loyalist commander, the capable Rahvin, commanded the right. The Palace Guard was held in reserve alongside the blazing artillery and mechanized units that were in standby. As Argon and Crix did battle, more royalist reinforcements approached from the south. A full battalion of soldiers freshly mustered to attack the rear of the rebel formation. The Jedi Lord did his best to keep the reinforcements covered up from the rebels; for above all, Crix hoped to end the war here with Argon's capture and a forceful treaty of humiliating peace upon his opponents. Crix did not want to become Xiarr the Ruthless. He did not want to be forced into striking down his foes to the last man and even going as far as imprisoning many and executing more. The Stratus wanted peace greatly and tranquility to be restored; yet it was his duty to do what he needed as Lord of Jabiim and as a protector of peace, everything needed to be done to preserve it.
A loud artillery shell shook the ground underneath Crix's feet as he stood within his makeshift command center which was housed within the former Nationalist Army base. His commanders remain quiet as the weary and middle-aged face of Crix looked up at the ceiling for a moment.
Hmmm...sounded like it hit near Jaered's flank. Hopefully it hit a patch of dirt.
The Jedi Lord sighs and goes back to making various commands to his officers, using a holomap of the canyon.
Commander Kash, bring up two mechanized divisions and two companies of the Palace Guard to the right flank. Put them under Rahvin's command so that we can shore up those holes in his line. Sentries already spotted several attempts to sneak through last night.
The dirty blonde haired Kash bowed his head to his liege before walking off to make the command. Crix's eyes turned to Jaered's second in command, the elderly and respected Mulran. He took the datapad from the commander's hands and examined it.
A couple thousand wounded alone so far. At least four attempts made, all repulsed with heavy losses to the rebels. Does Jaered need artillery fire to allow him time to reform his lines, Mulran?
No, Mi'lord. The rebels seemed to have taken at attempts at softening up the right flank. However, they have second-hand weaponry and shoddy shells. Many of them are duds or just barely exploded. Mostly wounded and very few dead.
Keep me informed then, commander. I need that flank secure and need to keep Jaered alive.
With those comments and commands made, Crix finally took a seat at the end of the table with those commanders that remained while other went to perform their duties. The Left and Right flank officers whispered tactics and ideas to one another as Crix poured himself some water to drink. A shock was felt across the ceiling as another shell landed, this one felt to be closer to the Central Flank, Crix's personal command. The Jedi Lord pondered deeply on today's action, his heart missing his beloved wife and children back in Choal. Everyday, he prayed to forces unknown for their safety and happiness. And that one day Jabiim would know peace again...
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 6, 2015 13:33:29 GMT -8
Time would pass the attrition continued under stormy clouds and torrential downpours. Even as the ground was soft and wet, it did not dampen the fighting spirits of the soldiers; fanatical in their Loyalist or Rebel intentions or perhaps paid well enough to exert such a spirit. Artillery continued to pound both sides; heavy and light skirmishes happening daily and into the night. Thunder roared overhead, but not loud enough to deafen the fierce display of artillery emplacements and the roar of mechanized units. The mud was scorched here and there by blaster fire or shells, smoking remains of tanks and hovercraft littered the field alongside charred remains of soldiers.
Yet even as the attrition continued, Crix knew that his plan was unfolding. He awoke on the second week of the battlefield to learn that a Loyalist army had finally set itself up somewhere behind the rebel formation. It would not be long before Argon's forces were crushed by this pincer movement and this war would finally be over. Upon the fourth day of the second week, a general muster was called as the soldiers were fed and roused for battle. Orders were sent out, commands made and troops deployed for the operation that would break the rebels here within this canyon. By noon time, or what was assumed to be noon, the Loyalist army surged forth, led by brave and valiant commanders under the command of Lord Crix, his lightsaber blazing blue in the murky and dismal battlefield. Other lightsabers would roar to life as family members, influential nobles and force-using commanders rushed forth with great speed and determination, clashing with the rebel formation at mid-point.
Crix slashed through several soldiers, before pulling out a blaster pistol to fire at a soldier readying to fire at his neighboring commander. It was invigorating for soldiery to see their Jedi Lord joining them in the fierce fray of battle and disheartening to the enemy to see the blue lightsaber of the capable Crix Stratus. As a Jedi, he did not find joy nor excitement in battle, but as a noble and a Lord, it was his duty to lead his men or they would never trust nor obey his command. It was his duty to lead, to command and to stand by those who would give up their lives to preserve his. In a ways, it was a mutual partnership between Ruler and Subject, Commander and Soldier, Superior to Subordinate that ensured the surge of the Loyalists continued with its momentum and remained steadfast in its determination and resolve.
Halfway through the battle, a flare went up from Crix's position which was joined by another flare behind the motley artillery that belonged to the rebels. Within moments, the guns were silenced and this caused some of the rebel forces to look behind them. For over the crest of the Canyon, charged forth a fresh host of Loyalist soldiers. Blasters hailed down upon the rebel formation as the pincers met and came crashing down upon the rebels. Crix hoped it was just a matter of time before Argon panicked and made his final mistake...the mistake that would end this war once and for all.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 7, 2015 21:00:33 GMT -8
Fresh corpses and smoldering vehicles were laid strewn across the Canyon... Majority of them bearing the crests of the Jabiimi Rebel cause. Yet among the many corpses and those who surrendered to pointed muzzles and the feeling of cowardice, none was the body of Argon. In fact, pursuing elements of the Royalist army and scouts had reported that Argon fled the battle when the pincer movement began, desiring to save his own skin than fight a losing battle. Crix was told that the rebel leader and the remnants of his army were making best speed for the personal stronghold of Argon, located to the far eastern provinces from the Canyon.
Within short time, more reports flowed in as neighboring rebel elements and strongholds surrendered to the victorious Jedi Lord and Royalists. The HoloNews Node was hard at work, feeding reports of the great Royalist victory won upon Jabiim. Many rebels had come forth, discarding their weapons and locked in cuffs. Many of the ring and influential leaders were transported to the capital for trial, soldiers were pardoned and sent home or drafted into the Royalist Army to make up for losses. However, on Jaered's orders, there were those executed for atrocities committed against the government; they were given quick judgement and shot by firing squads. Crix took no part in this section of justice, leaving his brother and other commands to deal with it. To all, Argon and his remnants were now cornered animals, yet this was not what Crix wanted.
Crix stood within the former camp of the Jabiimi Rebels, watching as the royalist forces marched east. Everything had been decamped and the forces, loyal to their Jedi Lord, marched to finish this war at his command. Yet Crix did not want this, he did not want to become another Xiarr the Ruthless and be remembered as a bloody ruler. His eyes glanced at Jaered and Rahvin as they approached the summit where their Lord stood. Jaered was the first to speak.
My Lord, this victory has brought us much needed morale boosters. It has reinvigorated the spirit of our troops. Soon we can end this war and plant Argon's head on display to disperse all notions of future-...
It does not solve anything, Jaered!
Crix bellowed at his brother who seemed somewhat surprised by his Lord's sudden outburst. The Jedi walked down from his higher position, walking between the two commanders. The pair glanced at one another before following their Lord closely behind. Rahvin would respond.
My Lord, we need to teach these rebels a lesson. Especially Argon and his confederates. Surely they deserve nothing but death.
But then I would be no Jedi Lord, Rahvin. I would be another Xiarr the Ruthless! I would be a blood-stained Jedi who sought after revenge and forceful order. I am the ruler of this planet, but I must keep to the tenets of my upbringing. Father would look upon me with shame if I bled Jabiim just for the sake of peace...
Brother, still something must be done to ensure peace is restored and future rebellions are quelled.
Crix paused at the entrance to the camp, looking out at his personal hover platform, used to transport him and his senior commanders from battlefield to battlefield. His gaze slowly turned to the sky above for a moment before turning his eyes to Jaered.
Send a message to our brother in the capital. I want him to get in communication with Felucia and acquire Jedi diplomatic team from that Conclave. Argon is a cornered animal now and it will be bloody fight just to dislodge him. If we can use the Jedi before resorting to the battlefield, then my conscience will be at ease.
The High Marshal, Jaered Stratus, bowed his head to the wisdom of his Lord brother. He understood, better than anyone else, of the conflicts within Crix's person involving what had to be and could be prevented. Jaered knew that every Lord before Crix never wanted to be like Xiarr I; to be a revengeful and forceful Jedi instead of seeking a peaceful resolution. Up until now, war had been known to Jabiim for two years. Now, with the end stage set, Crix decided it was best to try another method of ending this war before being forced into a final confrontation with Argon.
|
|