Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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[_run] // Mission_Launch: Hiding (?)

Cauldron Nebula;
Eol Sha;
Abandoned Outpost.

9fe2d1d8-3fb6-4f12-bdbe-eac13c94da57.jpg


It was a durasteel desert. A graveyard of mechanical parts and broken down bits. Frayed wires, and barely blinking lights from inside glass windows; almost all of which had been shattered and broken. Snapped, clearly outdated droids lay in waste and wreckage, littering the area and forcing the act of walking into a cautious guessing game. A thin layer of sweat covered the boy's tanned skin; that human face he wore so often. At least, he guessed it was sweat, though it could just as easily have been moisture from the incredibly humid planet. Nejaa had taken his time examining the information he could scrape together from within his Infiltrator's holonet systems regarding the remote world. Volcanic, and considered dangerous, as well as out of the Republic's rangy grasp. He needed to breathe, needed to collect his thoughts. His dark brown, hooded cloak covered his face in a thin veil of shadow, and swooped from behind him with each step, somehow not catching on all of the snagging protrusions about the ground.

Originally, he had hardly know anything about the planet. And he had certainly not planned on ending up here, that was for sure. That was to say, he hadn't planned on going anywhere in particular. Of all the far removed planets, he had picked up an old frequency which had brought him here. Of course, he had not assumed he'd find the apocalypse of a station this had turned out to be. It had clearly been run down by the elements, though, it would be hard to explain all of the interior damage with that same conclusion. It was more likely someone had been here, or many someones. Careful eyes though they were, he could not see a single sign of anything violent. No blaster weapon charge packs, or torn droids. Everything looked as if it had just been suddenly dropped, and sacrificed to the wilds of the volatile world. Constantly spewing geysers of hot steam and boiling air popped from all around him, though it was far more rare for the event to take place 'inside' the broken station. Still, there were some places where the flooring had been cracked and eroded by whatever pressure constantly build under the planet's crust, eventually transformed into the same kind of heated element canon.

He had quickly given up hope of finding anyone living among the rubble, and headed back to his ship, a rather empty feeling in his stomach. With a hissing squeal, the hatch to his spacecraft slid open to form a slanted walk way. With a flick of his wrists, three black orbs floating atop miniature repulser lifts slung themselves into the sticky world. Their noise was strange, like an alien vibration, photoreceptors adjusting to the lighting as they began their search of the area. Once inside, he wasted no time boarding, and closing the hatch behind him. It felt lonely, despite being so familiar. There was no other living presence, not even the human programming of a droid. He sat with a silent groan in his pilot chair, and let it spin, head sliding back and eyes closing. That feeling of stress and the building pressure of anxiety. The attempt to calm his emotions, and master them as he had been taught was still such a challenge for him. A tap from his pointer finger and the screen lit up again, showing his previous activities. One screen held information on the world, another displaying the channel information through which he had scanned the abandoned base specifically. And lastly, the largest screen displayed all information he could find on Jedi whereabouts.

There was someone else near...
Someone else, the force whispered to him...
They're coming...

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]
 
Snow stricken gaze reviewed the red text for the third time. It was a message that had been locked in the Grandmaster archives, and was becoming virtually dusty. Master Dista hadn't touched Watts or Wraith's inbox in his tenure. Leave it to curious Kiskla to do some investigating on her own.

Such was necessary with The Order under the external strain of the Sith. At least now the internal hollowing had eased--- but not enough for her to become complacent. Action was demanded, even if it was-- unfortunately late.

The message that held the Grandmaster's focus was a failure report-- Someone had missed their check in. The strange thing? The beacon was still alive, though not receptive. It was enough for the girl's wonderings to spark, and warrant an investigation. With further digging, she'd uncovered notes and marks from Watts and Wraith within the student's file-- along with other intriguing details.

Her findings spurred her to action.

"Master Grayson, are you sure this is wise? Your health is still--"

"Fine, Cee-Two." The Kiffar finished abruptly as she finished maneuvering about the ship and confirming all manual checks for departure. Especially the fuel-- which had been an oversight on Ansion. Whoops. "It was never anything else."

"But you look..sick."

Kiskla frowned grouchily at this. Post puberty she had always been considered attractive-- part of that credited to her electric blue eyes. A feature that had, quite literally, been burned out. Now, her eyes were alarmingly white; which Cee-Two interpreted as unhealthy for an organic. "I'm not." She assured him, rounding the pilot's seat and plunking herself into it. The light corvette had been repaired since Ansion, and was receptive to her practiced machinations. With the green from flight control, Crimson II's body belched from the hangar and into Ruusan's surrounding atmosphere.

Ever astute, the ancient model of a droid decided now would be an appropriate time to voice his observations; which would only give Kiskla more reasons to shut him down and stow him in a closet somewhere. Droids made her largely uncomfortable, and this was her first time being alone with one in years (other than the odd time she and R9 had to hang out).

"Are we not flying with guests today, Master Grayson?"

"Not yet, Cee-Two."

Not yet was her implication that this was more than a random scouting mission. Kiskla had an objective to uncover and guide -- something she'd done multiple times over the past year. The galaxy was vast, and very easy for likeminded individuals to get lost in.

Today's individual was of particular interest. The notes from her absent friends had indicated a prophecy was the core of this Jedi's existence. It was that, which had sparked Kiskla's interest; for she had just shattered her own prophetic destiny blah-de-blah. She had been in the right mind for it-- but the state of the lost [member="Nejaa Niynx"]? She had no idea his current standing on the metaphysical fence.


(On phone. Will format later).
 
Couldron Nebula;
Eol Sha;
Abandoned Outpost.

9fe2d1d8-3fb6-4f12-bdbe-eac13c94da57.jpg


[_file]://run [_OOC]: Im not sure if you meant to make another post after what you've already posted or not, you said something about making two posts in our PMs. Even so, this post wouldn't interrupt anything between your posts, so we can consider it a space filler, taking place when you do arrive. Lemme know if you need anything changed er somethin'

[_file]://run [_IC]: The steady, underlying tone of the Scimitar's internal systems could barely be heard by the boy. Even in the pitch perfect silence. The working minds of the collective computers, the automatic cooling and scanning systems, things which he could normally feel and hear during times of stillness, he knew nothing about now. His eyes were closed and his body hung in what looked like relaxation. At least, to the untrained eye. Anyone else would see a distinct movement under the eye lids; a restless stirring, provoked by anxiety. The oversized pilot's chair easily made enough room for him to bring his legs up and into a crossed position under him. His arms rested on folded knees, and various objects hovered in the air around him. It was a different kind of silence, a silence in which the air felt thick. Thoroughly saturated in the force. It was a form of meditation, something more than traditional to a jedi knight, and something he had learned while studying as a padawan. Though, through the years and as he had become more familiar with the force and its nature, the long trances had begun to show their purpose. That said, he had never claimed to have any real understanding of the force, and instead was baffled by its very concept, and a victim to its overpowering will.

It was said that such meditations could bring about visions and guidance to a jedi, though he had never succumb to such effects before. More over, he had learned to resist the meditation through repeated negative experience. That is to say, while he had been one to quickly master more physical aspects of the force, he had never come close to learning through the wisdom of the force. It was as if the devotion the jedi taught, a complete sacrifice to the light in order to hear the whisperings of the force rejected him. It had often caused frustration, jealousy of his other, normal peers. A jealousy which lead to anger, and often more than that. Something much darker than that. Rebellion. Already, this and this alone had killed three of his own men. The sea of fear, and unwelcome pain, the need to run and not be looked in on.

At least, until this time. This was the first time the force reached out and touched his mind. Stimulated it, and gave him freedom for just one split second. And in that split second, he saw a woman. She was beautiful and yet terrifying. The look she had in her eyes was one of flaming anger, boiled in simmering sadness and expressed with a sword. A glowing sword, the sword of a jedi knight, only it was through Nejaa's chest. He could feel it, it stung, and when he screamed out his eyes opened. The objects around the cockpit fell onto the metal flooring with clanks and chatter of their own. A cold sweat covered his body, and he felt panicked. Like waking to an alarm, he heard a beeping noise, only it was not quite as loud or abrasive. In an effort to regain his composure and understanding of his surrounding, he slid forward in the chair, edging over the various screens. Sure enough, someone-- something was coming. A ship, some kind of spacecraft. Though, what was it doing all of the way out here?

His first thought was the sith...
Darren-- no, his name was Dante now...

But this felt different. Dante's energy was obvious and malevolent. Conflicted, but incredibly dark, and he rarely hid it. At least, not from Nejaa. But the force was there, he could tell. Even if he could not feel it from the incoming starship, he could feel it vibrating around him as it did when another powerful energetic being was nearby. He was frozen, not knowing what it was he needed to do. Images and memories flashed through his mind, struggling to find something he had missed before. Something that would tell him who this was. He played through each previous day as if it had been recorded, or at least that was the goal, but he gleaned nothing at all. He felt uneasy, rising from his chair and whipping the three recon droids into the air with an electronic call; a small, black button atop the wrist gauntlet, and right above an inlayed com-unit. Their odd alien noises seemed to communicate with one another as they awaited Nejaa's command. The hatch to his Sith Infiltrator cracked and slid open, and he jogged out into the wasteland of a station. His whipping wrist sent the recon droids scattering about the area, their photoreceptors re-adjusting back to the light as they had already once today.

If someone was coming...
He had to be prepared...

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]
 
The task of cutting through space to a specified location was uneventful — which in times as brash as these, one could be thankful for. The seven oceanic spots filled the radar soon enough.

An exhale poured from the chest of the Grandmaster as she leaned back in her seat — the solitude of the ship suffocated any means of communication with something organic. She was surely not going to talk to Cee-Two; not matter how incessantly he persisted. He was a droid, and too much exchange could make him feel comfortable. Or trigger something in his circuits. Either way, Kiskla wasn’t keen to find out.

And there was so much more to think about, rather than just speaking. The war efforts were constant, but it was like sending out a militia of half-hearted soldiers who saw breaking as a far more formidable alternative than to fight to the last breath. It was wearisome, and as someone in a position of leadership, she was feeling downtrodden and having to re-evaluate her choices — and how she would react to the decisions of others. The One Sith were massive aggressors, forcing The Republic back mor and more, until their footing would be wholly unearthed from them. And her best friend — he’d been taken. As she entered the atmosphere, the young woman leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, pressing her palms against her forehead and drawing her fingers through her hair. Time to start making some decisions — not purely reactive ones, or she would continuously be a blade in the breeze. The ones she loved deserved more.

With a definitive exhale, she shook her head and moved to the controls — reminding herself what was at hand and what demanded immediate action in the now.

“This doesn’t look like a pleasant place for a lady, Master.”

Kiskla’s tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth. “No, but it’s perfect for a droid.” Very much untrue, he’d melt almost instantly with a misstep. C2’s lightbulb eyes flickered with irritation at the girl’s commentary.

Satisfied, she simpered gleefully and returned to her adjustment of the controls. “Alright,” she murmured in an undertone as the ashy, mountainous landscape presented itself to the incoming corvette “-where are you.” Expanding her breadth in the ethereal, the girl opened herself up to whichever whispers the Force wanted to gossip about. The reports had suggested a few outposts that the Knight could have travelled to — but if she could save time with her hypersensitive tracking abilities, both physical and otherwise, that would be most useful indeed.

Adjusting the direction of the thrusters as they neared the ground, they worked as repulsers in creating an air cushion for the ship to ease to a stop. The landing gear had to adjust slightly, considering the rocky terrain.

“Stay with the ship.” Came the singular command — she could just see the metallic menace spilling all over Eol Sha’s rocky terrain and splintering open. And then complaining about it the entire ride back “—and make sure nobody other than myself gets back into here.” She wasn’t exactly sure the state of the being she’d be running into.

The droid confirmed the command, and Kiskla wrapped her shawl around her shoulders. Long-legs wove her through the ship’s architecture, and to the airlock which she depressed. Opening it up revealed the tempestuous whistle of ash outside — causing both hair and cloth to ruffle wildly.

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“Okay buddy,” the Jedi grumbled, lowering herself down onto the soil and rock “—now you’ll need to be more specific.” Once again, she allowed the metaphysical to be her guide, extending her hand when and where possible to ignite her psychometry abilities.

After a few minutes of a walk, a mangled looking building stretched into the cloudy skies. Without much calculation, it was safe to assume this was one of the outposts — and the pulsation from The Force was strong. There was a being nearby, one who was certainly impactful, and with a signature that matched that which Darron and Ben had recorded in the files.

Slowly, the slender figure approached the discarded stretch of metal, glancing about at the different twists of wires and broken pipes — some still emitting steam curiously enough.

To make the playing field a little more even, the Grandmaster expanded her own Force signature. Now having rid herself that internal, poisonous demon, it was nothing short of brilliant and impressive.


[member="Nejaa Niynx"]
 
Couldron Nebula;
Eol Sha;
Abandoned Outpost.

9fe2d1d8-3fb6-4f12-bdbe-eac13c94da57.jpg


It didn't take long before one of the three droids scurried back over weak repulsers, the odd noises almost sounding excited. Alerted to something, at least, and Nejaa flipped expectantly in the approach. He knew someone else was here, he just needed to know who. There were too many possibilities at this point, and not many of them were hopeful at all. "What is it?" Nejaa asked, to which the droid responded with the spitting blue image of a hologram. A female, cast there upon the ground, obviously taken froma previous sighting. Nejaa's breath slipped from his mouth in a sigh of relief. So then, there was no sith, no sith at all. This was a Jedi, and not merely any Jedi. Since his master's vanishment, she had more or less taken over the Jedi's republic, chaos not in her line of business. Wishing the droid away, he instructed it to lead her to him. It seemed strange to have such a note worthy master come this way for him, though it wasn't all that much. With the Republic in shambles, Jedi order all but crippled by the oncoming sith, gathering resources would be of the highest priority. Piecing back together the Republic and the order along with it.

Even Nejaa had heard of the new Jedi, the Silver Jedi, a group which only angered him in place of creating peace. The idea of it, more than the Jedi themselves. What was the need for another sect? Had the Jedi all fallen to pieces to such a degree then? The young Knight crouched, slowly, and kneeled down into a cross legged sitting position on the durasteel flooring around him. The darker cloak was sprawled out aesthetically around him, as if he'd planned it to be like so. Sooner than later, one of the small, black recon droids would scurry into the same room as he, bringing the female close in its wake. By then, Nejaa's eyes were closed, and the components of broken down droids floated in a slow moving storm around him. The dark side of the force needed to be hidden, Nejaa never fully understanding just how much the Jedi knew about him. He had never heard about the prophecy he belonged to, Darron had never told him. Watts had meant to, but the timing had never come properly, and the boy was left in the dark.

You're in danger here, Nejaa...
She's a Jedi, she's a danger, the force whispered...
You need to run, Nejaa, to erase her...

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]
 
There were creaks and squeaks of various natures surrounding the complex. That was to be expected, given it's nature-- that said, she couldn't have been any more aware for the incoming astromech.

She'd made it past the opening of the outpost, and was now scouting around it's bowels; still keen on her direction but also nitpicking at things with her innate psychometric touch. Like a scout, the tiny black droid arrived to her left and she instantly turned to meet it.

"Didn't get a good enough picture last time?" The blonde asked, hands dropping to her hips. The thing was, no matter the distance nor technology, when one is isolated in a foreign, abandoned outpost, one doesn't miss much. Which most definitely meant the scouts that had surveyed from before.

The droid didn't look hostile, nor did it appear to respond uh.. At all to her insinuation. Instead, it hovered and mimicked an organic stare. After a few stagnant moments, it turned -- and Kiskla supposed this was part of the programming. Down the rabbit hole then, she followed the metallic usher where he guided her. As she walked, her senses peaked. There were subtle fluctuations in The Force, most would categorize them as mere nuances. But Kiskla knew better.

"Knight Niynx?" The Grandmaster beckoned at first, her accent travelling through the hallway and reaching the boy before her body could. When she arrived, his manifestation of The Force was in full blossom and she frowned. Why the shield. Why the cocoon.

Standing at the opening of the room, she focused on the swirl of droids.
"I think isolation is enough hiding. You don't need that."


[member="Nejaa Niynx"]
 
Couldron Nebula;
Eol Sha;
Abandoned Outpost.

9fe2d1d8-3fb6-4f12-bdbe-eac13c94da57.jpg


Even when her voice echoed down through the halls, he didn't move. Didn't lift a muscle. His eyes were still closed, and the thoughts of the force whirled around him in the same stasis field as the rest of the metallic components. He could feel the force, but was unable to anticipate what the feelings meant. Unable to sense motives, or hear anything specific-- just that Kiskla was here.

Run, Nejaa, run...
You need to get away, the force whispered again...
Fight, survive, cling...

Finally, she was here, and she spoke with enough volume to fracture his concentration. In an instant, all of the metal fell to the ground and his eyes opened. The master was in the room, a gaze set upon him and the shadow of a falling frown fading back onto a beautiful face. Admittedly, the two had never met. That was to say, they had never formally introduced each other, though she was a major Jedi of the order, and always had been. Chances were, at some point, they had operated to some degree together; and even more likely that she knew far more about him than, well, he did. Certainly more than he knew about her.

Quickly pushing from the ground, hurriedly, and raising to a standing, almost formal position, Nejaa lowered his head in a respectful bow. At first, he knew not exactly what to say, even though he'd been planning his words for what felt like hours now.

"Jedi Master Kiskla-- it's an honor, uhh,"

He fastened her with a questioning look, in response to her comment. A small thread of fear washed through his veins and when he looked at her it only made things worse. Keeping his head bowed he spoke, an attempt to finish what he had already started. "I-- you're-- what're you..." He paused, and took a small, shallow breath, his eyes finally raising to meet hers. "It's just that I wasn't expecting company."

You lie, Nejaa...
Lying through your teeth, the force whispered...
Good, protect yourself, Nejaa...

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]
 
Jedi Master Kiskla was not a salutations she received often. And she wasn’t sure that this Knight would have known who she was -- apparently, however, he did. So neither of them were at a disadvantage for introductions.

She took another step forward.

“You mean more company.” Light eyes transfixed on the knight that had just dropped his physical shield. She likely could have said anything at that point — perhaps about the decor and how he was so prepared for someone else to arrive; to the point of knowing her name.

But no — because as The Force whispered to the prophetic switcher, it also cooed to the Grandmaster. Her tribulations with the dark side were complete, for the most part. She had purged the very demons which had crawled through her skin, and she had done her research on [member="Nejaa Niynx"] before stepping into his domain. When one was as in-tune with the ethereal realm as the girl was, you didn't miss much. In fact, she'd be at a supreme disadvantage in her position, considering her work with prodigals who returned from the seduction of the darkside time and time again if she couldn't detect it's claw marks.

His reaction to her admittance of awareness would be most telling indeed, and likely determine her next moves. Get him on the ship, or make sure he doesn't leave the planet?
 
Couldron Nebula;
Eol Sha;
Abandoned Outpost.

9fe2d1d8-3fb6-4f12-bdbe-eac13c94da57.jpg


"I beg your pardon, master Jedi?"

It was a desperate act of honing in on, and re-collecting his own composure. A solid breath was allowed through his lungs before he met eyes with the woman once more. She had seemed almost knocked off kilter by his knowledge of her name, only a short and brief flurry of confusion barely detectable. And Nejaa was mostly guessing, even then. His knowledge dated back to his time with master Darron Wraith, words which spoke highly of the female on only a few occasions. It had seemed both his master and himself shared a similar rebellion from the natural Jedi code, and preferred to live closer to comfort. The boy, Nejaa at the time, had always been overly interested in anything he could find 'dirty' or 'unruly' on the older man. More than likely an attempt to justify the same feelings within himself. Though, his time with Darron had been short enough before the order proclaimed him a Knight.

None of it had made sense to him.
The short leash they kept him on.

"I am only to assume you received the distress signal coming from this sector, no?"

She could not learn of who he was actually expecting...

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

OOC: So sorry about the time it took to get to this. I do hope that we can continue it, as this is a rather interesting encounter indeed for Nejaa, and rather important in his plot-- though now it's a big dated. Even so, I do want to finish it.
 
Pouted lips curled downward into a frown that communicated her displeasure. One does not ascend ranks of a Force-using community by being blind to the nuances and subtleties of The Force.

"Yes." She confirmed, taking another bold step forward, deciding to explain her perceptions. Transparency was a two-way street; she'd recently learned this on Anaxes herself. "And while it's normal to take precautions in this sort of situations, distress signals are usually sent by people in distress wanting to be relieved."

Now that definition was out of the way, she moved a little more into the abandoned room. "Nejaa-- your Masters Watts and Wraith left me notes for reference. You're not alone here-- and I don't just mean with me being in this facility with you. "
Eerily white eyes locked to [member="Nejaa Niynx"]'s features as she circled back to her point earlier about the distress signal. There was too much tension in this room, be it corporeal or otherwise, to be normal.

"Do you need relief."
 
Couldron Nebula;
Eol Sha;
Abandoned Outpost.

9fe2d1d8-3fb6-4f12-bdbe-eac13c94da57.jpg


"In a manner of speaking, master."

Though, in truth, there was little honesty in his words-- yet all to much potential for danger. "My unit was attacked just outside of Mandalore space. I'm not sure of the attacker's origins, but my men were wiped out and I was sent looking for the nearest system to take refuge--" He almost wished he hadn't spoken his words. It was true, someone, something had taken his men from him. And it was not easily recognized or traced, but he knew who it was. And he knew that he was not in danger from it. No pirates or smuggler ships were looking for him now, he had destroyed them all; right after he finished watching them rip apart the hulls of his own men. What came after him now was the all consuming fear of the dark side. A whisper which told him to run, and cling to life. To break free of this Jedi Master and take safe haven in the galaxy. But there was no safe haven in the galaxy. The Jedi were as close as he could come to such a thing.

"I sent a relief signal-- I-- Master, I felt something dark... Something I had not sensed before, close, and all around me. As if someone else, someone more powerful than myself were there taking my men from me. I-- I couldn't identify anything of note on the vessels we were attacked by, and I've run numerous data checks on outlying systems..."

OOC: It shouldn't come as a surprise that this response was delayed by this point. I apologize, of course, and I understand totally if you're no longer able to continue this topic for whatever reason-- I thought I'd respond regardless in case you were still interested :p

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]
 

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