A Second Attempt At Escape.

[Darth Caedes]

Outer Rim Territories;
Albarrio Sector;
Mygeeto.

This time, he had made it beyond the spaceport without encountering some kind of catastrophe. No one had attacked him, or so much as given him a passing glance. Of course, there were those who marveled at the sight of a Jedi, even in these territories. Less out of servitude, and more out of awe. After all, they were known as legendary warriors, the select few granted the abilities of the force and given permission to use it at will; at least, that's what a civilian would know of. In truth, there was little glamor in the the life of a Knight. It was all humility, detaching from earthly desires, and preparing for the inevitable. Death. He had never brought himself to agree with their submissive view of mortality, never understood how they were able to simply unhook themselves from the natural will to live. An instinct which had been firmly planted within Nejaa since childhood.

His robes kicked up behind him, and he could see his breath. It was freezing on this planet, oppressing winds pushing past the youth as he journeyed against them, squinted eyes all he could manage against the miniature storm. The large hull of his Scimitar was hardly visible in the distance behind him, ice cold haze acting as a nearly translucent barrier to veil his vision. The hood was pulled up around his head, loosely covering him and removing just a bit of his readily visible identity. His skin wasn't the usual tan, smooth skin of a human child. Instead, it was rougher, and green, mimicking the appearance of a Rodian teenager. Large, black eyes stared out at passerby's, though he avoided locking eyes with even one person-- a tactic he had learned to avoid any confrontation. Even one wrong glance was enough to provoke some to attack Jedi of the Republic, and he was technically in an enemy's territory.

His feet continued to move, until he neared the metallic city, built up in 'droid' looking architecture and illuminated with scarce lighting. There were parts, however, where shadow acted as natural cover, and he stuck to those areas. Without looking worried, or rushed, he wove through the least traveled intersections and buildings, eyes straining to search for one place in particular. He had come here years ago, with but one other, his previous master; the man who had eventually promoted him to Knight, even though it eliminated Nejaa's typical trials. Darron Wraith, a legendary man among the Jedi archives. Though, he had barely begun to push Nejaa in the correct direction before granting him independence and setting him as a Knight. While Nejaa contained the technical skills, his mind was far too fragile, though it was too late now. He had already had troops die under his orders, and tasted the war hardened life of a high ranking member of Republic society. When in the public, he was referred to as 'Master Jedi,' or 'Wise Master,' among other titles, though he hardly felt deserving at all.

It took him a good while before he felt the first pin prick of piercing pain. The force, twisting his insides as it did as a harsh warning. Nejaa stopped and quickly spun around only to see nothing. More of the frozen haze, and shadows of whichever pedestrians were walking beyond the thin wall. When he continued to his destination, there was a noted change, he was far more rushed now. It was entirely possible that fear was merely clotting itself in his mind, though he had rarely been wrong about approaching threats of the future. A lurking danger was close, though he knew not if he could avoid it.

[member="Asterion"]

 

[Stephanie Swail]

Jygat Spaceport
Mygeeto, Albarrio Sector


Mygeeto sounded like the next best place to stop on the Braxant Run, after all, Asterion was needing fuel after a good few days traversing a handful of planets provided by the Empire of the Hand for him to sniff out.

Sniff out; like a dog. Testing his guile as an Inquisitor for the Empire, Asterion was charged with investigating planets that had come of interest to the because, be it for rich Force history or noted individuals that could pose to be an ally or threat to the rising faction.

After breaking away from the One Sith, Asterion was keeping himself low and grounded. He was no longer blinded by the lust for domination that once fuelled him. If a steady progression of a faction who valued their own members than simply taking over one system at a time was his new choice, it would be one stronger than many

Coming into the dark atmosphere of the planet to the Northern spaceport, the icy wind and faint specks of snow fell, covering all below him with a faint mist. The lights of the city Jygat guided him down in his one-man ship to the large spaceport. Already busy, which wasn’t a surprise with the weather conditions; Asterion banked and came down on the outskirts under identification of the Inquisitor bureau. Mandalorian space it may be, but Asterion wasn’t here for domination – simply investigation.

Kicking down the loading ramp to leave the ship, Asterion pulled over his old Sith robes to cover his comfortable Knight armour. While he wasn’t in any official uniform, not that he ever would want that for the Empire; he was Sith at heart, Asterion didn’t attract attention in his dark attire. Keeping his head down against the biting wind, refreshing as it may be, he stood under the ship and reached out for an identification of those around him.

Lights of all colours were blinking and flashing and moving as ships fuelled up and the city beyond welcomed travellers in for the night. Nothing stuck out – except the whips of a Force signature that was near, and it reeked of conflict. One eye squinting in curiosity, Asterion glanced around, but visibility was poor, and only a few silhouettes could be seen moving here and there.


[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Outer Rim Territories;
Albarrio Sector;
Mygeeto.

He had reached the metallic outskirts of Mygeeto, a series of long bridges and runged columns. The shadows never seemed like enough anymore, even when they were proving successful enough. His eyes looked at the next literal bridge he would be forced to cross. An exposed stretch of durasteel, a stretched plank wide and sturdy enough to hold starships he could tell. There were no shadows there, and in one nervous exhale he shot forward. His robes rattled in a flurry of sudden movement, flying across the open expanse with a grace unlike that of most runners. His eyes were trained forward, though every now and again would spurt left or right to check out something he had seen move. Paranoia more than anything else, and he knew it though he hated it. The force urged him to continue running, to run until he couldn't stop, as if it was threatening him with death as the other option. Skipping to a slower pace, and spinning around while in mid run, Nejaa checked his posterior angle before nimble footwork brought him back forward at the same speed.

Though, where the mist had concealed anyone and everyone before, now there were new things to inspect. One new thing to inspect, the image of a standing individual. Nejaa's breath plugged and he fought for a breath he failed to take, sliding across slippery flooring. The force screamed in his ear, and he began to feel the danger approaching him, surrounding him and suffocating him. He wanted to draw his blade, but he knew that anything rash could come with unwanted consequences. So he took another step forward, telling himself that there was no proof he was in direct danger, right now. Another step, and he resumed his walking pace, now nearing the singled out figure of a person, hands flexed and ready to defend at any moment. His head was kept down, and away from the-- man, he was a man another quick glance told him. The fear penetrating him wreaked of the dark side's will to survive, and he could not help but let it slip into the aura around him as he continued walking, subtly merging as far right as possible so as to cross with more than enough space between him and the other man.

You'll die here, Nejaa...
Run, run from life, the force whispered...
You're being hunted...

[member="Asterion"]

 

[Stephanie Swail]

While Asterion wasn’t now actively seeking Force Users who stood against a new Empire, acting in secret for the rising Hand, he felt that many were around. Both sides of the light were around, but not all those were active in conflict. It was Asterion’s choice now to stand alongside those who wanted to strive for greatness, but eradicate those who opposed it – the Sith would themselves be ones to avoid as they worked alone, but Jedi were ones who would be obvious threats.

The signature he could feel was coming closer, and Asterion didn’t hide is presence in the Force. If one would come before him, let them. It made things far easier.

Turning to his ship, he closed the landing hatch and faced the bitter wind across the landing pad and walked forward steadily across the illuminated floor before, honing in on the hooded figure whom he felt observing him.

Asterion squinted and held up his hand as he closed the distance from the figure, batting away the flakes of snow coming from above. The aura was that of light and dark – great conflict – and the Sith knew this would be a volatile Force user just from that.

”Hey, kid.” Asterion called out and jogged forward a few steps, reaching out to grab the figure by the scruff of the neck.

He held the robe in his gloved hand and didn’t move.

”What’s your reason being out here. You’re dangerous, and shouldn’t be in control of the Force. You don’t deserve it.”

Asterion looked down at the hooded figure from behind, gripping him and waiting for a response.


[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Outer Rim Territories;
Albarrio Sector;
Mygeeto.

He had felt the impending attack as if before it had even taken place. And his attack proved it, a movement almost too quick to avoid; only justifiable by someone of equal or greater talent, possessing the forth. In one, blurred whipping motion, Nejaa spun around and his emerald green blade whirred to life, making a well aimed slash for the man's arm who grabbed him. The whipping and weaving of the blade wouldn't cease until Nejaa had been able to take a good two or three steps away and turn to face the enemy. His sword skills looked honed, and crisped with a fear which made him release his restraints. Nudging the blade upward, he pointed it at the apparent Sith, the force now swelling around him, coiling and readying itself for an abrasive encounter. Just as his lightsaber defense slurred to an end, he took a step forward and unleashed a powerful blast of the force-- though, this wasn't just a kinetic energy. This was the sorcery of the force. Bright red and orange flame flew from his open palm in a powerful jet, combusting from nothing at all and sending warmth through his body. He could feel his skin scream under the force's manifestation, and he pulled it back, blackened at the center of his palm. Against most, his force abilities would far surpass any counter put up, though Nejaa had long since learned not to underestimate any opponent. With a defensive line of his lightsaber drawn between him and enemy, flames sticking to the ground and forming yet another barrier, Nejaa's lips moved in speech. As he spoke, his opened hand rubbed against the robe, using its cool fabric to supplement the burn he had self inflicted.

It was certainly not a Jedi's skill...

"Who wants to know...?"

[member="Asterion"]

 

[Stephanie Swail]

Feeling his surge of Force energy, Asterion managed to release the youth before his emerald blade swept upwards where his arm had been, and noticed a young Rodian’s face under the cowl, devoid of evident expression as he took steps back in an almost careless display of wild swings outwards.

Asterion turned to his side and shielded his eyes as the Rodian that spat out flame from his palm, engulfing the ground before them with a sizzle of fire on ice, sending up jets of steam between the two with a crackle of flame from shorted electricity cables beneath the platform burning fiercely.

Shaking his head, the Sith heard the Rodian speak and started at him, sizing up one who was powerful in the Force, but not totally in control. And the fact he had attacked him was enough for the Minotaur to see red.

He twisted his hand beneath the flame.

”You wanna watch where you throw that fire, kid.”

Asterion released a burst of Force energy outwards through the fire, enough to cause it to lick back at the Rodian, like a claw reaching out to burn what it could before it.

And as he manipulated the flame, Asterion moved left quickly, around the fire.

”Last chance before I take your head – what are you doing here and who ARE you?”


[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Outer Rim Territories;
Albarrio Sector;
Mygeeto.

Of course.

His opponent was able to dodge, using the ever intelligent guidance of the force. Though he knew it to be something of a different relationship than that which the sith before him shared with the force. His was a relationship of understanding and partnership, a master that had come from years of positive enforcement and teachings. The dark side was built less on wisdom, and instead on a more primal instinct. Fighting against the primitive was never easy; there were never good odds here. The faked Rodian boy swallowed a steep gulp and continued to step backward, shifting eyes scoping his surroundings. The fear in his heart pounded into his blood stream and made his body warm with white light. Burned at him, and caused a cold sweat to begin to build.

As the flame shot from his hand, a scorching sound whistled loud, blasting against the metal in a series of jumping sparks and white glares. For a moment, Nejaa's lips curled in a smile, the orange heat engulfing his opponent as if smiting him. He was crushing his opponent, had he developed such power? Though, through the scream of flame, his hunter's voice clashed and the flame was repelled. A blast of his own force ability, pushing the attack back onto Nejaa. His hand rolled in a specific movement, manipulating the same kinetic energetic field and hurling it forward in his defense. The duo of powers crushed into one another, fire splashing around the two of them and melting into the ice below. Nejaa's breath was hot, as if fire lingered in his mouth. And in his eyes, though these were more timid flames.

"My name... my name is," there was only a second's hesitation.
"... My name is Plo'o Zimmer, and I'm on the run from the Republic..."

He lied through his teeth.
There was another breath of hesitation.

"Who... who wants to know...?

[member="Asterion"]

 

[Stephanie Swail]

Asterion lowered his head, feeling his annoyance growing with the theatricals from the youth, and from behind the flames his pupils snaked from dark black to a sickly amber – the Sith darkness curling around his energy as he parted his hands and, with them, the flames before him.

Parting them and causing them to dwindle, flickering and stuttering in the cold, Asterion bound forward through the icy steam and raised his hand in a vice like grip to wrap the Force around the Rodian’s windpipe.

He squeezed and raised him an inch off the ground, teasing the salvation of hard ground beneath his feet but feeling a parsec away as Asterion bore his gaze into the black void of the Rodian’s eyes.

”I am Asterion, Knight of the Sith and Inquisitor of the Hand. You are trying my patience,” he rasped, low and controlled, but sharp blades over flesh, peeling away Nejaa’s confidence if it were muscle.

He brought the Rodian closer, surrounded by the flame.

”And you are not Rodian. You shouldn’t have opened your mouth with basic if you were trying to fool me. You smell like a Clawdite. A liar. A deceiver. A coward. Show yourself before I end you.”

Asterion’s eyes were burning, for the first time in a long time, and his brow was furrowed in deadly intimidation before the deceptive Force user.


[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Outer Rim Territories;
Albarrio Sector;
Mygeeto.

The feelings of fear were instant. His attack had been done onto as if it were nothing. Brushed aside and turned against him. His trump card, ignored. With each step Asterion took, he reversed backwards, their eyes locked when the sith's underwent transformation. The dark side had long since consumed this individual, and drenched him in its rage inflicting power. It was terrifying, but he was defenseless, at least he felt so. Only seconds later did he realize how truly defenseless he was, a vengeful grip at his neck reaching through the force from Asterion, sucking his air away and crushing him. Before Asterion could even speak, Nejaa's mind whirled and his concentration fragmented. Green skin changed from colors, yellow, red, an off white-pink. Textures flashed back and forth, random spots of color, and the features on his face differed one moment to the next. Without a second's notice, he dropped his lightsaber and groped at his own neck. He wanted to scream, scream for help he knew wouldn't come. Couldn't come, not against a sith. Round eyes, large and glassy eyes before smaller, swollen beady eyes. No lips, slender lips, everything. His hands and arms too, likely his whole body.

Finally, the colors and, well, over all changing ceased, and he fell back into his natural face. Natural, yet so alien. He knew not even himself by this face, and the proportions felt odd. It was not the face of a normal Clawdite, different from the almost bug like complexion they wore. His tone was more grey, and nearly humanoid. Hair, like fire, rose in black swirls from his head. His mouth was set in a frown, a deep frown, and uneven skin gave the illusion something grim and abused. Years of genetic treatments and long, torturous sessions of nuclear therapy. He had come to call it that, back then, memories which now almost seemed distant and, over. It had melted him into the being he was now, a member of the race with, well, altered genes. Superior in their shifting ability, cellular make up enabling more changeability. And for longer amounts of time.

"S-Stop--" he groaned, eyes wide with fear.
"Nejaa Niynx," gasping "Nejaa, ggahhhh, Niynx--" Speaking was painful.
"Ple-- gahh-- Please, I'm... running... from-the--..."

But he couldn't continue, and his vision began to blur. No, this wasn't happening. He had never come this close to death, not by a long shot. Never been this close to complete eradication, nor never proven to be quite so useless against a foe. He couldn't just end things, not like this. The force gripped at him, whispering for him to continue, enchanting him with its power. Rage from the dark side, and focus from the light. A powerful pulling motion from his arm sent another emerald blade shooting from his waist, through the dark cloak which still covered him. Directly at the opposer, like a hurled javelin from a gun. Too quick to see, the first lightsaber spun through the air, pulling forth its blade before it was caught and sent into a downward sweeping motion, aimed to bisect the sith vertically. His own energetic connection to the awe inspiring power let him scream in fearful desperation. There was an imbalance. The light side was but a small candle set against a world of darkness, though only for the one attack alone, Juyo's aggressive form harvesting itself in the lightsaber master as it had his master before him. Vaapad.

​As his feet touched down, clanking against the metal surface of the bridge below him, he stepped forward in further offense, blasting another shot of fire forth. His left hand, unburnt, and powerful. More powerful than before, by necessity. He would survive. If the first blast didn't work, he'd send a second, and even a third, each with enough power to dent and burn through durasteel. And with each attack, he yelled, tears streaming from those black eyes. The flames danced before him, as reflected in the small, golden ring set into a mangled ear. He had to retreat next.

@Asterion

 

[Stephanie Swail]

As the Rodian began to falter and cycle through the various transitions of its Clawdite persona, Asterion's eyes began to drain away from dangerous amber to dark black, the truth manifesting via a gently amplification of the Force.

"Nejaa Niynx? I will not remember that name after today, nor will anyone else."

With the Force holding him aloft, Asterion was seconds from granting him chance to talk and tell him who he was running from, but the Force aura once again started to lurch out from Nejaa, a desperate and dangerous mix of fear, anger and desperation.

The familiar snap-hiss of a lightsaber was heard before seen, and Asterion dropped the young man before snapping back to avoid the blade, singing him as it passed. He growled, raising his arm to see the smoking graze the blade had left through the skin, dangerously close to actually severing his bone, so thankfully not enough to do damage.

"Impressive, but desperate. You lack control."

Reaching for his blade, he didn't have chance to take it before Nejaa summoned more flame, larger than before with a cry of fear to keep the Sith from him. Shielding his eyes from the glaring orange flames, Asterion stood back and simply watched.

Eventually he would have to stop, and then, he would make his move.

"Stop the theatrics and I will let you talk before I decide whether I let you live not not."

Hand on the lightsaber hilt he hadn't drawn in many months, the Knight stood ready, looking down at the floor as the Clawdite continued to emit flame with nowhere to go.


[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Outer Rim Territories;
Albarrio Sector;
Mygeeto.

What were his options. Did he have any? Faltering, and retreating steps backward, he raised his right hand to grab at the tossed lightsaber through the force. It had not yet hit the ground, transforming from a spear into whirlwind of light to be caught and brought down. Deactivated. The first lightsaber raised, pointed directly at the enemy as if to suggest he keep his distance. Nejaa's breathing was stiff and heavy, taxed by the power rushing through him. His powers still felt weak in comparison to this man, though. As if it had been just enough to survive. No, he had hit the man, he had been the only one to deal damage; though, the only one to attack.

"I am Nejaa Niynx... Jedi of the Republic, though I'd only wish for their company now. I've found that we have a... difference of opinion, in a manner of speaking..."

He stopped, he had to be careful exactly what he said. It was, in a sense, a plea. Speaking in relation to the ideals of a sith, though without lying. If the man opposite him had any ability with the force, he would have been able to feel Nejaa's pitch darkness. A force influence which coughed with the sickness of fear and anger.

"What's your business in attacking me... sith."

[member="Asterion"]

 

[Stephanie Swail]

At the mention of ‘Jedi’, Asterion knew this was a clear cut enemy of the morals and principles he stood for, not to mention one who represented the Order who abandoned him as a minor. However, hand still on his hilt; he wouldn’t draw attention to himself with the crimson blade until it was necessary for a quick, clean kill.

”But it was you who attacked me, Jedi. I simply caught your attention.”

Asterion took two steps closer.

”I am here to seek those with the Force who could stand alongside the growing Empire of the Hand, but also to stand with the progression and development of the Sith. However, before I cut you down, being a Jedi, what do you mean by ‘difference of opinion’?”

He was curious as to the evident crack of faith that the youth made evident in his strong resolve. He tilted his head back, looking down at the boy, trying to read him. He was certainly complex.

”You have 10 words before I take your head. Make ‘em count, son.”

Fingers flexed on the hilt. This could be just what he needed.


[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Outer Rim Territories;
Albarrio Sector;
Mygeeto.

Nejaa scoffed at the Sith, lips curling as he was proven incorrect. He had been the first to attack, the first to act with violence. A beat of self loathing and a cleansing second of acceptance before he stared back into the eyes of his oppressor. Even at the height of his power, he felt as if he were the prey between the two. Whatever confidence bolstered the Sith man made him powerful beyond comparison by anything he'd seen in a Jedi-- at least, by most standards. As Asterion spoke, Nejaa's blade rose a bit higher, and he began to fall back into a state of readiness.

"I killed my own soldiers to escape them..."

He spoke the words as if they came from a place of disgust. A black pit of hatred towards his own actions, though only another contribution to the dark side which possessed him. As well as hollow, his words were hollow and forced. He would not have normally put it like that, but it had been the truth. Though he had not pulled the trigger, they had died because of his blatant choices, and he had meant for it to happen in no other way. He was on the run from the Jedi more than ever before, yet, for some reason, still reached for their supportive hands when he fell cold into the cruel hands of the galaxy, headfirst.

[member="Asterion"]

 

[Stephanie Swail]

Asterion stepped forward again, not deterred by the glowing blade of the Jedi. In fact, the disorientating and hypnotic surrounds of the icy landing pad coupled with the fire that burned beside him and the lightsaber blade illuminating through the mist was somehow empowering. Like he was in a location not of this place, somewhere else; fuelled by Sith darkness.

He killed soldiers? Who cared? Sith killed soldiers, innocents and warlords to get where they had to go, and never held it like it was some great achievement. It was just what they did to survive. He held up his hand, two fingers pointed up to the icy rain starting to spit down.

”That’s eight. Two left.”

Talking, he pulled the hilt from his side and thumbed the crimson blade into life with a razor sharp –snap-hiss – coating his face with the satanic red glow, perfectly mirrored by the emerald blade of the Jedi.

”Better make them count, kid.”


[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Outer Rim Territories;
Albarrio Sector;
Mygeeto.

Nejaa's stance faltered, and he fell back again, retreating in obvious submission. Though he wouldn't admit it, to submit was merely to die in the face of a sith. No matter how bleak things were, he would be forced to really earn his way out of this. Though he didn't drop his defenses, nor lower the blade he bore towards the enemy. Slowly, the force began to stick to him, whispering its wisdom to him again. A wisdom which was hardly fair, and seemed to only bare ill news. A decrepit urge for the sith's blood, like a drill against the inside of his ribs, and then he exhaled to calm his mind. Place everything back in order and reach out in search of the force's wisdom. Or was that really the answer? To spend one's last seconds looking for any last shred of wisdom they could come across. By releasing the will to live, and giving unto death even before it claimed him? Such would be the way of a Jedi.

But he didn't want to die.

"Use me."

[member="Asterion"]

 

[Stephanie Swail]

Nejaa’s words hung in the air along with the faint sounds of cruisers parting the planet and the hum of the blades both warriors held. Asterion held his gaze; with just two words as instructed, the youth had managed to spark his interest and also buy himself time.

But he wasn’t out of danger the woods yet. He was still a Jedi, and an unstable, undeceive one that that from his attitude and display of Force power.

”Wise words. But how would I use a Jedi, or why would I want to? You don’t even know your own identity, do you? Hiding behind the face of a Rodian bug and lashing out with no control.”

He killed the blade.

”I’m listening. What do you have to offer?”


[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Outer Rim Territories;
Albarrio Sector;
Mygeeto.

In response to the Sith's blade falling back, Nejaa withdrew his own. Less an offer of equality, or stillness, and more a bluff of confidence. While the two had proven their differences in the force already, Nejaa had yet undetermined prowess with the blade. If he were to come under attack, he would be able to defend himself, there was more than enough distance for that.

"You're in search of other force users, are you not?"

He was selling himself. Selling his soul, his morals, his identity and upbringing for what could be seconds of life. "I can... find you more." The dark side of the force wrapped itself around the boy, and began to eat into him, devouring the good he had locked deep under the surface. Threatening to tear him from who he was, and recreate him into a new being. He felt it, and it made him sick, that sinking feeling of which there was no escape. He couldn't take anything back now, and he wouldn't have.

[member="Asterion"]

 

[Stephanie Swail]

Glancing around, it seemed a few people had noticed the display of Force prowess. The last thing Asterion wanted was attention from the law and so he turned back to Nejaa and took another few steps forward to stand by him, casting a glance down to his face.

”Follow me.”

He walked through the icy mist and off the landing pad. He followed the natural direction of the path that would lead them more towards the city of Jygat. His ship would be fine where it was until he returned. Asterion felt the youth behind him and waved his hand for him to keep up.

”I’m not LOOKING for Force users to recruit them. Unless they wish to serve a rising Empire? Otherwise I simply am looking for those who pose a threat to natural progress and I can silence them. Much like you, they will have a chance to speak up, but that depends on my mood.”

Walking forward a little longer in silence, he turned his head again as the crunch of ice broke under their boots and small puddles splashed as they walked.

”If you have information on any who need to be removed from the bigger picture, you may prove useful yet.”

He raised a hand and placed it on the youth’s shoulder.

”Prove yourself and you could find yourself on the precipice of becoming something great. IF you tell me what you are doing serving the Jedi when you clearly don’t feel a strong alliance to them. Your Force aura tells me more than your lies, son.”


[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Outer Rim Territories;
Albarrio Sector;
Mygeeto.

Greed. Greed and a hunger for more than they already had. A Sith stood before him, giving him a chance. Making an investment, more like. A chance he almost didn't want, but knew he'd have to take. If it was the only option, it was the only option, he wasn't one to argue with that rational. At least, not all at once. When the Sith beckoned, Nejaa moved promptly, though he resisted his own muscles, wanting to stop them. He had been caught in a web too strong to merely break free.

"Where are we going--?"

Breaking his question in half, the Sith turned. Nejaa flinched, and nearly grabbed for his lightsaber. It wasn't dangerous, and Asterion's hand felt warm and powerful atop his smaller shoulder. A shaking exhale through syphoned lips and he stepped back so as to break the contact.

"I don't... wanna die. And the Jedi can't understand that, rather, I've failed to see the same enlightenment as them. I can't break those attachments, or just... roll over when the time is right."

Nejaa looked back up at the Sith, unsure why exactly he was telling him this. At first, he had wanted someone to agree with him, but knew that a Sith's agreement would only take another chunk out of his already depleted core values. Another blade he couldn't dodge, each becoming more critical than the last.

"Listen, where are we going, and what is it you'll have me do? I-- I'm beginning to--" have second thoughts.

[member="Asterion"]

 

[Stephanie Swail]

Nejaa wasn’t living the Knight anything he wanted to hear regarding his official exploration Force Users around the galaxy, but Asterion was getting something else; something more personal – hints of a fragile spirit that could be broken.

While not having a Master himself, Asterion was still driven by the roots of what the Sith were; A force to oppose the narrow minded view of the Jedi Order and the splinter groups that seemed to pop up every other day. More and more Jedi were breaking away to try and merit their exploration of the Force in a different way to that which was deemed proper by the ancient code, but Asterion simply saw it as Jedi wanting to become something more; something meaningful.

”You’re a very weak excuse for a Jedi, aren’t you. I’m surprised they haven’t exiled you already because I would have.”

Begin to tap on the shell…

”We aren’t going anywhere – simply a little walk while my ship is refuelled. Don’t worry. I can tell you have more pressing engagements on your head, like where to go next, who to act tough to and where to sulk in the shadows.”

… help it crack a little around the edges …

”However if you want, I can help you break away from your fragile existence with the Jedi. I can show you things that you seem to express a desire to explore.”

… watch it weaken …

”I can teach you how to harness the Force to become a Sith warrior – to fight for power, glory and total control of the Force you seem to have inside you but don’t understand just what it can do.”

… let the beast within break through…

”No-one will make your doubt yourself again, Nejaa, if you give yourself to me and let me mould you into a Sith. A Sith to stand by me and help shape the galaxy where only the strong survive.”

… and capture it with both hands.


[member="Nejaa Niynx"]