Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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And God, I know, I'm one

It had been some time since Julius had been back to anywhere one might considered civilized. In truth, he was surprised he was still alive after how shabbily his life had went since leaving the Jedi Order and the Republic. And in honesty, he was rail thin, dirty, haggard and weak compared to the iron muscled Knight of the Order he had been, arguably one of the Republics rising star's in that organization. But now he sat with his head down on a table in some back water world on the Outer Rim he didn't even remember the name of. There was an untouched cup of caf next to a mostly gone bottle of cheap liquor, and the man sat in filthy rags that might have once been jedi robes, over scattered and battered armor.

Some hooligans in the bar had been pointing at him rather interested like since his head had hit the wood of the table and hand't moved. If they got close enough they would see him snoring and breathing heavily, shaking a bit even, possibly from alcohol withdrawl or over-imbibing this eve, it was hard to tell really. But one, a Kiffar with a bold set of tattoos on his face, began to creep forward slowly, waving off his friends, and even dared to reach out and touch the sleeping Jedi, whom they probably wouldn't even know for what he was, on the shoulder. There was not even a grunt, and with surpressed excitement he reached for the large satchel hanging off the mans shoulder.

Suddenly, there was a literal explosion of movement from the apparently sleeping or passed out man. The table was thrown back and across the bar, and the kiffar squeaked as a hand wrapped around his throat, and tried to scream as a blade blinked into existence mere inches from his left eye, held in a steely grip. The lightsaber in the mans hand hummed, and he regarded the Kiffar with a dead face, not noticing the five or six blasters trained at his back, or not caring.

"Now, why would you go and do a thing like that?"

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]
 
A bit of a wanderer this former Jedi Master had become. Since leaving the Republic and the Order, she had mostly stayed under the radar, passing along from planet to planet, finding a bit of work here and there as an occasional cantina dancer, a hired mercenary in charge of transporting freight on behalf of locals, even a voluntary law enforcement agent on one world. Most of her time was spent simply observing others, helping those she could, when she could. The Twi'lek had learned at a much younger age that enabling someone to help themselves was often far more rewarding than simply doing for them. She lived life by her own code and morals, though she never strayed towards the darkness that engulfed so many former Jedi. She was still a dedicated light practitioner, and that would not change, yet she was no longer bound by the requirements of the Order, and held accountable to no government.

As she walked along the muddy streets, rain falling from the heavens above to a moonlit path along her stride she paused but a moment to glance around at the establishments before her. At the center of the city there were attractions of all kinds, enough to satiate even the most choosey of types. Sera however was a rather simplistic type of girl, and often found a quiet drink and a bit of chit chat went a long way to pass the time. As luck would have it, or rather, as expected, there were dozens of cantinas nearby, and so after considering her options she strode quietly into the one nearest her, cautious to keep her lightsabers well hidden, and her armor under her typical dress. Jedi of the Order or not, a Jedi was a Jedi to most bounty hunters and Sith.

Sitting quietly she ordered a glass of wine and swiveled in her seat to look out around the crowd. A man lay hunched over his table, alone, with a cup of caf and a bottle of drained liquor. Rough day for him. The girl observed him curiously for a few moments before turning back to her drink, sipping it a few times before glancing back. Her peripheral vision caught sight of a brutish looking man wandering his way towards the drunk sleeper, and she rolled her eyes for she knew he was planning to rob the fool as he slept. The pink woman lowered her left leg and was about ready to step that way when suddenly the sleeping man revealed that he in fact, was not sleeping. Even more surprising was that the familiar snap-hiss of a lightsaber rang out and held itself towards the other man with lightning speed and grace. Well, that was unexpected.

A dozen blasters raised, pointing every which way, a number trained on [member="Julius Sedaire"]. Seraphina lifted her head and slid off of the bar stool, her hands lowering to her side to retrieve her own twin sabers. Lightly, her fingers tapped against the activator switches along the metallic hilts, springing to life her purple and green shaded swords. Her eyes would catch the man's as she looked around to the great many weapons trained on the pair. "Well, it seems like you've attracted a bit of attention."
 
The twi'lek was not one he expected, but to his credit he didn't react, beyond a nod, his eyes scanning the blasters trained on him... So many was a stretch even for him, prodigy that his master used to say he was with a lightsaber. But it was the challenge that called to the dangerous side of him, the side that had gotten him in trouble with the council on many an occasion and time, and yet that same side that had gotten him thanked and honored by them, when it served his purposes. Shoving tousled hair aside, he grinned at the man and turned to face the blasters all trained on him, his body showing little effort at holding him up by one arm.

"Now now, this is hardly fair.... Do you have anymore of you? No? Well this will be terribly brief then."

Had anyone known, the bottle of liquor had never been his. He didn't really hold with or drink alcohol often. There was just no where else for him to sleep, so he had sank a last few creds into that cup of caf and then laid down beside it in this unkempt bar and taken a nap, and this idiot had woken him up. Considering he had just spent the last couple of years running in a mecenary band of mandalorians and learning to fight from them, this was not a good idea. He was broke, after their stiffing him on the last run, tired, hungry, and infuriated that he had been even that close to being robbed, his senses were dulling.

Suddenly he closed his eyes, feeling a sense of calm descend over him. Blood sang in his veins, his pulse throbbed in his ears, and sweat beaded his brow as everything seemed to move slowly. The man in his arm was thrown out into the crowd of blasters, a small Force Push right in his stomach focused behind Julius' off hand to send him speeding into them. With that, he leaped into the air, spinning and whipping out to kick one man into another as a third lost his arm in a sideways sweeping arc of the blade as it sliced through his elbow at the joint and he fell back screaming, another Force manuever.

Pulling the table to him and spinning to dodge a bolt of blaster fire, his lightsaber flicking out in a classic blend of Makashi and Ataru, the graceful spin a move from Form IV, and the flickering slash at shoulder height a part of Form II, the man sent the bolt spinning directly into the eye of the one who had fired, and came centered one the last three or so remaining, one foot forward, one back and perpendicular to the first, his arm up and the blade arced over his head for the burning green tip to point at them. In all of this, he was barely breathing heavily, and hardly sweating more than when he started.

The remnants fled seemed unsure, blasters still focused on him but hesitating, and Julius extinguished his lightsaber, flipped the table over upright and then picked up his caf, which miraculously had landed on the floor unspilled. He sat, the lightsaber clipped on his belt, and took a long swig from the dirty cup, completely ignoring them. He knew they wouldn't attack. They had seen what he could do, and that pink one was nearby, they'd assume her on his side, and those remaining would flee or not cause more trouble.

Finish your car and then leave. Tip the 'tender a bit extra and hope you can evade the authorities.

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]
 
Confidence or cockiness? The question that was pondered in the mind of the Twi'lek at the comment made by the man before her. He'd looked like he had seen better days, but she knew better than to judge someone based on the surface of their presentation. Still, he could be dangerous, though at this particular moment he had been the victim, and so she would stand by him and hope he was not a wanted man. Her eyes circled the area, blasters pointed in every which direction.

In the next instant he was on the move, hurling the man he held into the crowd while throwing himself towards the group to engage them. While she would have rather not been forced into using her sabers, the opportunity for any kind of semi-peaceful resolution was gone. Blaster fire erupted from every angle, some not even trained on the two Jedi, but on each other as well. Bolts of green, blue, and red filled the room, the sound of weapons discharging becoming the only audible sound, aside from furniture being tossed and damaged.

The Twi'lek leaped forward and onto the counter of the bar, a single hand outstretched and swept to the left, throwing one of the men violently into the other, knocking them both over, her right hand following the opposite path, hurling another body into another. A man from behind crept slowly, reaching up to grab her by the leg and rip her from where she stood. She fell gracefully, deactivating her sabers for a moment, bracing herself with a single hand while the other jabbed the man square in the teeth with the hilt of her lightsaber, knocking several out of his skull as he released her and fell to the floor.

Standing back up she ignited her blades once more and fanned them in a defensive motion, twirling and spinning them to deflect shots wildly back towards the aggressors as they began exiting the establishment with haste. It seemed the other Jedi, or whatever he was had carved off a limb or two from a few unlucky combatants. The place was a mess. A big mess indeed. With the fighting over, or at least halted due to sheer fear of what may happen to the next person, [member="Julius Sedaire"] nonchalantly sat back down and returned to his drink. Green eyes focused on him and raised slightly. Her hands returned the weapons to her side and she pulled up a chair next to him.

"That's one way to meet, I suppose. I'm Seraphina...And you are?"
 
Julius finished the drink, sighing in contentment and nodding, wiping some traces from his unruly beard and stop, dropping quite a stack on his empty cup as he took it up to the bar and smiled, expressing regret to the terrified looking cook and handing her both the cup and the small pile of credits worth well more than the cost of the drink. One man pushed forward angrily, and began to shout at Julius about what he did. In this case, the battered former Jedi merely raised his fist and slammed it to the man, a pulse of Force energy wavering out from the punch as it connected in his gut and hurled him out the open door.

"I regret to inform you all tonights' entertainment will be leaving now... Please let the authorities know I will not be planet side by the time they come. If any of you should think to follow me for vengeance, also realize I restrained myself to preserve the integrity of this establishment. Outside in the open, I will not"

Nodding to Seraphina, he grimaced and rubbed at his side, a small cloud of blood seeping through the rags, but the motion was hidden under his cloaked appearance, only visible to her most likely. When he spoke, it was in a low voice, gravel ringing in it.

"Seraphina... Beautiful name for a deadly woman... If you wish to talk, by all means follow me. But I have to get to at the least get to my ship, shall we go?"

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]
 
Sera watched as [member="Julius Sedaire"] made one more example out of an angry patron, sending him in an almost comical manner through the doorway and out into the street, to never be heard from again. An unintentional grin cast over her as she listened to him declare the entertainment was drawing to a close and that he would be vacating the area. Her head shook slightly. An interesting one, he is. She thought to herself as he tended to his wound with a bit of discretion. If he watched her, he would see her eyes lower towards its' location, eying it with a bit of moderate concern, but saying not a word.

Even if she wanted to help him, she couldn't. Not through the Force anyway, she was no healer, and never learned the techniques employed to repair such organic damage. What she did have though, was a bacta injector stored away in her armored gauntlet. Now however, would not be an appropriate time to tend to such wounds, especially given the disorienting side effects the patient would receive.

"Certainly. Lead on. We'll see to that" Nodding to his injury, "shortly. Lead on."
 
Grimaching, the man strode out, his lightsaber now plain on his hip, the raggedy cloak thrown back to expose a very utilitarian and clean looking plain like cylinder of metal. It was a no frills type of weapon, and spoke volumes of the man who had made it, even if it was not the same man as the older version who carried it now. Something had changed in his time on the fringe.... Some said when you stared into the black, it stared back... And that it would change you in ways you never knew you could be changed. Ways you never wanted to change. Ways you would resist until the day you die, only to realize every thrash and struggle had bound you tighter to inevitability of it all.

But now was not the time to get philisophical, not hardly. There was a burning hole in his side, and he needed to fix that. Badly. A year ago those thugs wouldn't have even gotten near him. But a year of mostly inactivity had worn down his honed reflexes and instincts, made that which should have been sharp and bright and foremost in his mined dull and rusted in the back of it. There would be a resolution to fix that, though he wasn't exactly sure where precisely he would find a challenging enough lightsaber dueling opponent. Or at least, one that wasn't hunting him as a suspected Sith or as a rogue to be brought to heel.

"So you're a Jedi, then? You don't seem like the type the Order would hold onto long.... I'm Julius, Julius Sedaire. And this hunk of junk is my ship... Or... Well.. It was here..."

Looking around, the former Jedi cursed loudly in several Rim languages as he tagged a note on the console.

"I wasnt that karking behind on payments! Bloody hutt!"

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]
 
Walking aside of Julius, Sera offered her arm to help brace the man as he trudged along through the streets away from the establishment that had rendered the wound in his side. Healing wasn't something she distanced herself from, but the opportunity to really learn such things were never on the table. Instead she was a Jedi soldier, first and foremost. The Twi'lek was trained by the Order in two things, telekinetics and Ataru. So the hole in the man's side would have to endure for the time being, that is, unless he was trusting enough to allow the woman to administer the bacta via injection. This type of dosage and injection was typically not done as the patient typically underwent a number of serious symptoms for a few hours. It was risky, but it may be necessary to keep him from bleeding out all over the street as they carried on.

"I'm not exactly a Jedi." She sighed, slightly dissatisfied with her own answer. "I am, but I'm not. I was a member of the Jedi Order of the Galactic Republic. But no more." Her head turned slightly, eyes piercing into the man's own. "I've exiled myself, though I am still very much a Jedi in terms of belief and alignment. I have always and will always defend against the dark side, but I do so on my own terms going forward." Softly patting the man's shoulder she smiled partway, understanding his pain. "My name is Seraphina Shel'tah. Most everyone just calls me Sera."

Looking around it was obvious that whatever Julius had for a ship was no longer present. It seemed the man had seen better days. "We'll find your ship later. We need to address that wound. Here, sit. I'm not a healer, so the Force isn't going to help us here. But I can help you. You'll need to trust me though." Her hand reached down towards her armor, and with a few motions released the clasps that held the gauntlet to her body, gently removing it from her pinkish forearm. "You'll need to put this on. There's a small recessed button that once pressed, will administer a bacta injection. However, there's some potential side effects. Unfortunately we're out of options for the moment, and there's no doctors hanging around, so this will have to suffice." She motioned for him to put it on.

[member="Julius Sedaire"]
 
Accepting the gauntlet, Julius seemed oddly at peace, and trusting. But it was more a resolution that, even if she was trying to kill him, the blaster burn would see to that soon enough without her help. So she'd really likely only be sparing him hours of pain and suffering. He was oddly resigned to his fate, at the same time cursing his laxity in not drilling more often and regularly to increase his skills and keep razor sharp. There wasn't exactly an impressive knowledge of the Force in his talent bank, so what talent he did have he had to rely on pretty exclusively.

Grimacing, he took and clasped the gauntlet on his arm, though it just barely fit, and nodded, looking for the recessed button as he brought his gaze up to Seraphina.

"I am Julius Sedaire, Sera... I was of the Order once too, but missions to the Outer Rim left me disillusioned and distant, and though I never officially left, I suppose by now they must have listed me missing in action... I suspect this process from this gauntlet will be painful, and if I am right then I may need you about for a few hours... But I thank you, all the same"

Hissing in a breath, he closed his eyes and pressed the button and waited for it all to work.

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]
 

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