Arrival; Run!

[Darth Caedes]

Hyperspace;
Mygeeto Sector;
Outer Planetary Space.

He had endured quite enough already. Long since, he had tasked Torin with piloting the craft into landing on Mygeeto, while he had confined himself to one of the various other cells on the Scimitar's lower level. Within the room, as he was not entirely alone, was a droid. Its crude design looked fitting for only one purpose. Combat. Security droids he had since refused to use. Their models were outdated now, to be sure, but he was sure they'd still leave a dent against your average shooter.

Almost as soon as he had made his way out of the cockpit, now hours earlier, he retreated to his data-pad control terminals and begun locking down and hiding various parts of his ship's more inner memory drives. Although he had already locked most everything desperately important, he moved to conceal himself at an even greater length from his padawan. Nothing that would suggest his inhuman nature, for now, he wished to uphold the guise.

Only when that familiar drag left Nejaa swaying back against his seated position did he arise once more. Giving the silent, deactivated droid he had spent the better half of a day with a nod of goodbye he raced back into the cockpit.

"We've arrived then?"

His answer was given before words could even deliver it. The blue stream of gaseous, stretched stars sucked back and revealed the pitch blackness of space. Before them, glistening with blues and grays, was the planet Mygeeto, hulking just ahead with an intimidating glare. The force prodded him with a disturbing pain, though he was entirely unsure of its origin.

"Something... feels..."

The padawan agreed, nodding his head. [All written actions for Torin in this post are based off what has already happened in a previous topic being re-written] "I sense it too, Master," Torin responded verbally. Mygeeto's immediate space territory was littered with floating space stations, various outposts and immigration customs which made getting on-world nearly impossible without certain credentials. Most Muun populated planets were alike in this way. It was hardly uncommon for for ships to enter and blast away in hyperspace, but at the sound of the next deafening thud, the next ship warping in from intergalactic travel, Nejaa whirled round with a sickening feeling in his gut.

"Torin--!! At our rear!"

The padawan was at it already, before Nejaa had even finished. What Nejaa had done with the force, Torin must have done with the immaculate ship scanners. In an instant, they were flipped completely upside down, something one almost missed because of the lacking gravity. A long vessel, needle point and loaded with fine weaponry slipped into existence and almost collided with the Scimitar-- would have collided with the Scimitar had Torin not quickly moved to evasive action. What looked like small tendrils of static lightning covered the ship's hull.

Then they unleashed fire. Not one or two, or even three or four, but a set of seven double fire blaster turrets. As if it were raining, however at them, crimson blaster fire whirled around them in the continuous spin Torin had set into motion. Tossing himself to use Nejaa grabbed hold of the ship's main controls, whirling through the various access codes so as to integrate himself with the mainframe. His own guns aimed, the ion cannons he had not the time to replace for real blaster cannons, but before he could fire there was that same thudding noise. The lightning static covering the vessel had cast an energetic net over the durasteel plating and wrapped itself in the same eternal night the galaxy around wore.

"Damn. Cloaking device. So that's what that noise was..."

"They're off the scanners Master, I think they... fled? There's nothing on the bio scan either."

"Well, that was quite some welcoming party... get Korto on the coms... and... keep your eyes open, something's amiss here."

Mygeeto Sector;
Outer Planetary Space;
Cities of Ice & Bridges.

He no longer had time to waste, and he was no longer comfortable in space. Motioning to the controls, he cut shortly "land, at once," only to follow his thought through. "We're no longer safe here," with a swipe, three bars changed color on the screen before him, and the complicated looking symbols of the standard alphabet dropped around the edges like a border.

<<Cruiser this is tower 3, we'll need landing permits-->>

"Sent."

<<... Ah... Yes, you're cleared for landing, sir."

"My thanks."

Before long, the hatch was opening, and the brisk air was filtrating into the long since warmed Stolen Pride. Now covered in his Jedi garments, Nejaa pulled the outer layers of his hooded cloak around himself. The crystals here, at least some of them, literally resulted from such frigid temperatures. Ice, petrified through prolonged exposure to a critical surface. To a human of average standings, it would be almost unbearable. To a human Jedi, it would be nearly unbearable, though only prolonged exposure would really risk death. To a clawdite, the conditions were not quite as bad, it should be said.

Two droids approached, and Nejaa raised his greeting towards them, quickly exchanging information and ordering a full lock down of his landing bay to anyone but himself. No one else was to enter without proper jurisdiction. Sliding his thumb over a metal band about his wrist, his own three probe droids lifted themselves from the back-most hull of his Scimitar and flooded into open air. Their noise was alien and off-putting, though they clung about Nejaa, swirling around his head, exchanging information, and scanning. Despite their innocent design, the model came with blaster canons and grenade launchers both, they made him feel safer.

A short flurry of hand motions and the probes flew off in different directions, in search of any suspicious activity around their perimeters at all times. A first line of defense against anything which might otherwise be avoided. A single security battle droid stood guard in the Scimitar's entrance, behind the closed hatch door, just to make sure no one dared enter.


"Come, padawan. We must make haste."

Mygeeto Sector;
Outer Planetary Space;
Cities of Ice & Bridges.

Three men, all of alien races, approached the oncoming Jedi. Their smiles were superficial, though such was the case with most any political encounter. A single Muun, and two Twi'lek males at his rear, one on each side. While the Muun was dressed in formal silks and cottons, following the style of his species, the Twi'leks looked closer to security than anything else, and were fully equipped with a side arm and vibro-daggers.

Nejaa took the lead, waving the Muun's attention and dropping into a bow.

"Yet another fine day," Nejaa attempted casually.

"About as fine a day as any, Master Jedi."

"Ah--? I beg your pardon?"

"You are accompanying your previous friends, are you not?"

In an instant, the air became almost hostile. This had been a covert mission, there was no other reason to send Nejaa along with the Infiltrator. What was more, they were no longer in Republic Space, and the Muun's eyes drilled holes in Nejaa's fragile stare. "My previous, uh, friends?" He couldn't give anything away, had to be cautious with his words.

"Yes. Masters Korto and Cohaa have already since arrived. They spoke of your arrival soon after."

"... They did? Well then, here we are..."

"Grann, I am Grann, I suppose you're anxious to meet the others?"

"The... others?"

"Your friends, master Jedi? You have come to aid their efforts, have you not?"

The Muun's face was held in perfect neutrality, though his words held an obvious trap. Even so, it was the uncomfortable, almost nervous nature of the guards behind him which sparked most of Nejaa's primary suspicions. Each looked at one another, and held their arms rigidly, as if preparing to pull blasters at any moment.

"And... you'll lead us to Master Korto, then...?

"Yes, of course. Right this way Master Jedi."

Nejaa's look to Torin was brief but telling. The raising of a single eye brow, 'something's wrong.' Or perhaps 'be on your guard.'

[member="Torin Varik"]

 

[Torin Varik]

He said his name was Grann; the Muun they followed blindly into the tall building. Tensions were high within the group as they moved in silence. If this Muun had in fact been involved with the ghost ship, things were about to get very interesting. Torin put his faith in the force. It was not his place to anticipate what lay ahead.

Be wary of your assumptions and projections.
The future is ever-changing and without certainty.

Instead he stayed focused on his master. The Jedi were following their welcoming crew far enough behind so that hushed words could be communicated privately. Torin stepped closer even to Nejaa before he offered in a low hushed tone, "Should we trust their intentions, Master?" He hoped Nejaa had some sort of plan or further insight.

[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Mygeeto Sector;
Outer Planetary Space;
Cities of Ice & Bridges.

For one moment, and one moment only, Nejaa wished some variation of rogue asteroid could strike his padawan down. It was obviously volatile here, they were not welcome. But, since they were here, they'd receive the full tour. Torin's nerve to question the natural flow of things, and act out of some kind of nervousness when it could mean discarding their only social lifespan. However temporary even that might be. Nejaa made no verbal comment on Torin's behalf, though he did thrust his hand back into Torin's chest and shove him backwards. For three seconds or so Nejaa's attention fell more so on correcting Torin then following their current predator, and when he looked back up, the Muun met his gaze. Staring over his shoulder and just coming to a full stop.

"I trust everything is well with your padawan, master Jedi?"

"I can assure you he speaks only in request of my answer, certainly not to offend. It's just that..." And he began walking again, began pushing forward, easing the tension as best he could. The Muun followed the cue, his own sharp smile tracing Nejaa's approach. "... we've already made some strange encounters in our short time here-- you ever had violence issues in the hyper-space entrance docks?" The Muun seemed only entertained by Nejaa's questioning, probably the way he graveled.

"We get violence from time to time, unfortunate when it happens, but I feel we have that... under control. Did you experience any troubles then, mmm, Nejaa?"

Nejaa didn't like the aggressive decline into hostility. He felt the urge more and more to grab for his lightsabers. To swipe, and sting, protect himself.

"Well, we are here in one piece, so, no complaints. And here? Do you experience much violence on world, master Muun?"

"We tend to do what is needed, as we see fit, master Jedi."

"Careful, ha-- it begins to sound as if you threat?"

By this point, the had gained entry to a massive cathedral like tower. Decorated in stained glass windows which cast interesting glares on most everything within. Along the interior were columns in rows, thickly so. A single strip of smooth ground hollowed the middle of the room. Nejaa swallowed and smiled.

"Forgive me, master Jedi. Now, if you wouldn't mind telling me what your business is here in this system. It is not every day that we get Republic visitors, much less two Jedi. And... so soon after our last incident."

"Your... last, um, incident, sir?"

"A Jedi, a Rodian who is yet unidentified and some form of enemy were sighted in combat only recently. They tore down guard towers, you can't believe the toll it's taken on our mood here."

It was at about this time that Nejaa began to sense something terribly wrong through the force's screaming whisper. A cold sweat, all at once covering his body. "Torin-- the columns--!!" Stepping back quickly and whipping out his lightsaber, Nejaa was almost too late to deflect the thick blaster bolt. Another flew through from some concealed location and met equal deflection. In that same second, each of the guards mobilized and primed their own pistols. 1, step, weave, 2 hands fell to the ground, one and two half pistols of the same make and model lay smoking there. Each guard reared back in horror of being killed by this Jedi warrior, one hand clutching the stub of an arm Nejaa had just gifted them, cauterized, yet red hot still. The Muun had long since gained distance and clearly had a route of exit he deemed safe enough to turn his back on both Jedi. Nejaa threw both guards aside with on motion of the force and continued only a step further before being thrust back by an offensive barrage of blaster fire. Surely, this encounter would be difficult without an impressive defense of some kind.

[member="Torin Varik"]

 

[Torin Varik]

Cold palms pressed against his abdomen. For some reason Nejaa's strength was surprising. But it was obviously weaker than it could have been. The padawan re-adjusted his balance and stopped for a moment, confused. Shaking his head he continued forward. Such drama.
He adjusted the collar of his dark green pilot suit and listened carefully to the interaction taking place ahead.

A Rodian Jedi attacking Mygeeto? Why hadn't Torin known of this? Perhaps it was information that had not yet been reported to the order. Torin's eyes subtly shifted throughout the large building, staying aware of his surroundings and open to the force. The tension only thickened with every step until it finally reached it's boiling point and the courtroom erupted into blaster fire.

Torin whirled around to face the column closest to him and grabbed his light saber, igniting the iridescent blue blade just in time to block the blaster fire. Another shot deflected and he was close enough to attack. With a quick one two whip the Muun soldier's blaster was in half. The Jedi quickly followed his attack with a wave of force that knocked the foe back and unconscious. He used the column for cover, pulling his blaster from it's holster. He fired a few shots into the ceiling above the columns to cause dust and debris to clutter the air. He deflected any stray bullets back at their source as he made his way to Nejaa.

"We must find a way to contact Master Korto and Kohaa." Torin's tone was perhaps more urgent than it should have been. "They could be in danger."

[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Mygeeto Sector;
Outer Planetary Space;
Cities of Ice & Bridges.

So it had come to this. Nejaa's blade was caught in an unstoppable motion, fear gripping him at each near-hit. By no means was the defensive art easy, nothing about deflecting a gun was easy. Though he surely made it look so, physical skill attempting to make up for where his anxieties severed ties with the force's connection. Technique instead of faith, something more often found in a guardian than a consular. But he never tried to step ahead, and forge a path. Why risk that. "It doesn't look like we have much of a choice, do not underestimate our friends. They are, apparently, our superiors." Nejaa's tone was able to carry such harsh words through the more temperate monotone of mid-combat-desperation. That course-loud half holler, with faster speaking in order to make each word count.

"Fall back, we must contact the council."

Nejaa was the first to fall back, a near perfect lightsaber counter whizzing a foe's blaster bolt back into their leg. Another was sent back to ruin the shooter's own weapon, turning it into a burnt shrapnel pile-- and a burnt hand, too. He expected Torin to follow without questioning, that much was to be expected out of a padawan. Only now did he understand the restriction of his jedi-attachment. His offensive abilities were completely off limits, he could feign knowledge only of the Jedi's perspective. A lip-biting realization, here, his fire could never burn. Pushing back through the door and turning for a more direct sprint, Nejaa was only to find that in fact many more 'enemies' lined the docking bays.

[member="Torin Varik"]

 

[Torin Varik]

"Right behind you."

Torin answered immediately, firing precise shots even through the clouded view. Three more soldiers were downed - one shot in the foot, the other two in the knees. The two Jedi ducked through the entrance doors and out into the docking bay. Which, of course, was covered in enemies. A barrage of blaster fire came at them again. The doors they had come through hung open and the soldiers approached. No matter that they were Jedi, they could not protect themselves against fire from both sides. They needed to seal off the entrance and quickly.

Torin threw his hand forward and slammed the doors shut. Reaching out with the force, he sent a thin but dense metal poll - a common maintenance tool used when dealing with larger star fighters - flying through the air and into his own palms. After sliding the slender pole through the door handles, Torin rolled to a nearby shipping crate that provided cover, and pressed his back against it. That would buy them a few seconds to get to the ship.

He peaked a look out at the dock then looked at Nejaa.

"Any ideas?"

[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Mygeeto Sector;
Outer Planetary Space;
Cities of Ice & Bridges.

Nejaa's lightsaber lowered to the ground, only inches away from frosted metal, and his body with it. Any ideas? Well, no, quite frankly. He hadn't really taken the time to fully accommodate his sudden weakness. In place of power, he was given another body. Fire for the padawan, so he had to use both in the same fashion. Reaching out and foregoing any verbal command, Nejaa grabbed at Torin's leg, fingers tugging at cotton and then securing a more firm wrap around his belt. "Down," he yelled like a whisper. "That, hhhhmm, bar isn't going to hold them back for long-- and we've got, frack--" He hadn't actually taken a head count. Without finishing his thought, he pushed himself up so that just his eyes hung over the shield-of-an-obstacle before them.

"Seve-- Eight--!!"

Sliding back to his knees so as to meet his padawan eye to eye again-- or at least nearer than should they stand side-by-side. "There are eight, I think, and they're carrying rifles. One of them has something different, something shoulder mounted, though I've never seen it before. They, they look like mercenaries-- they had no theme, different races." Nejaa's face lit up, "this will be a wonderful opportunity to develop your defensive technique, padawan. So the whites of his teeth shown with threatening joy, he smiled so that dimples appeared in his cheeks and nodded. "Surely you can recall back to your lessons in Soresu at the academy. At so far a distance these foes will be forced to use ranged attacks, but time will lag their attacks. Use the light of your blade to draw their attention, focus, and let the force guide you. I will handle the rest."

Giving the hand-motion to rise, and effectively the order to start, Nejaa pushed off of his feet and rolled into a one handed tumble to the next covering obstacle. Feet met the ground, and he slid near silently into place behind a metal crate carrying god only knew what. Blaster fire echoed his new arrival instantly, scarring the metal bridge with black burns and melting the ice in thin wisps of vapor. Clicking a petite, red button mounted on the com-link and then sheathing his lightsaber completely, Nejaa waited for Torin's distraction to take effect. In a quick movement Nejaa called out to the force, its kinetic abilities raising one of the metal crates and spinning it towards the-more-well-armed assailant. Another crate, spilling open mid way and dumping bolts and screws of all sizes, was sent next. In response to his earlier command, three Dark Eye Probes fell from the Scimitar's belly like spawn, took aim, and let loose from behind. Two tore into the enemies with green blaster fire, while the third shot something more solid-- when it exploded, it could be more clearly identified as a lethal grenade.

"To the ship. Move."

[member="Torin Varik"]

 

[Torin Varik]

The Jedi Ace peaked over the cover and began firing here and there. One shot took down an enemy gun, and the other an enemy's arm. He tried to get a good read on the situation. However, before he could get very far he felt pressure on his belt line, pulling him down at the urgent command of his master. Torin quickly dropped down and onto one knee to hear what Nejaa had to say. He tucked his blaster away and looked at who proceeded to provide some useful insight into the situation. The detail he had noted in such a brief time was quite impressive and seemingly accurate.

The padawan was following up until Nejaa recommended a training exercise while running for their lives. That smile - despite the dimples, it that was too mischievous to be innocent. Torin had a feeling it meant another test. It almost made the padawan cringe as he remembered the words he so honorably vowed to him. Training? At a time like this? And no... he was not joking. Rather, he was testing. And Torin would pass. He had to. Wiping the initial shock from his face, Torin grabbed his light saber from its hilt and readied its activation.

"Right. I've got you covered."

He closed his eyes, only for a moment, so he could take a breath and collect his thoughts. Lunging from the cover he activated the crystal blade. He stayed light on his feet and focused on each incoming threat. He waved his blade in a wide bend that lead over and behind his body. It was certainly a familiar form but not a practiced one. A swift avoidance step to his left allowed him to barely avoid another series of attacks which he then attempted to send back to their origin. One out of three were successful while the others left burn marks on the surrounding crates and durasteel floor. Thankfully, it hadn't taken Nejaa long to intervene, summoning the force into powerful attacks as well as the droids that accompanied his ship. Torin hadn't realized how much fire power the probe droids had hidden beneath their insignificant visage.

Nejaa gave the order and they took off toward the ship at the other end of the bridge. One of the several soldiers still attacking the Jedi duo approached only to be met with a swift swipe of a lightsaber to the knee. The others continued shooting from a distance, knowing better than to get much closer to a Jedi in combat if they planned on living. However, distance didn't matter much either when the blaster fire was being deflected back to its source. Not much time for words, only action.

It wasn't long before they made it to the Infiltrator. It's sheer size dwarfed the small landing pad. The Jedi retreated to the ship's protected interior. Hurrying to the control room, Torin threw himself into the pilot's seat and proceeded to start up the ship in as timely a fashion as possible. He had no trouble remembering exactly where everything was. The engine growled to life. He latched his hand onto the throttle and pushed it into position. Blaster fire pelted the hatch and exterior. The dark ship gently lifted before speeding off the landing pad and into Mygeeto's atmosphere.

"Well... It seems our allies on Mygeeto are few." He steered the large ship through the tall pillar like structures of Mygeeto's vertical architecture. "What Jedi would make such enemies here?" He inquired, hoping his master would have more information for him.

[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Mygeeto Sector;
Outer Planetary Space;
Cities of Ice & Bridges.

Three men poured out and onto him, all at once, their blasters firing and smoking barrels all aimed upright. Out of the three, two guns fired a dark crimson bolt, while the third shot a much more dull orange. With a weaving motion, Nejaa brought his singing blade to life and pushed back the barrage, sending it back in random chaos. Sparks cluttered the rusted metals upon which they stood, and a shrill cacophony of energy blasts almost deafened the young Jedi. The first fell with a firm strike from the force, whipping the weapon from his hands and into his face. The others met a less forgiving fate, burned and cauterized instantly by the lightsaber's blade. His eyes followed Torin, the aggressive lightsaber-specialist debunking attacks and shredding through resistance.

Most fell with the dark eye probe's assault from behind, leaving only those who clung to life despite pain and begged for mercy. Nejaa had no issue sparing them that last favor, stepping over their bodies and entering his spacecraft amidst the oncoming rain of blaster fire. It sounded like rain, if rain had a terrifying sizzle concluding each drop's landing.

"Prime all engines for take off, let's not waste any time here," Nejaa commanded clearly.

Whirling round and taking his seat beside the padawan, Nejaa's own hands fell to the dashboard he knew so well. A series of complex entries and sequences, unlocking the ship's computer's to manual control. Each grumble of a new engine starting was a sound one, though they couldn't seem to come fast enough. Sweat covered Nejaa's body in a thin film by the time he could feel the Scimitar's thrusters pushing it off. "I'm getting diagnostic scan error results, ugh, they're sending pings all through my-- oh no!" Nejaa fell silent and seemed to frantically search through whatever hurricane of numbers and letters flew about on his holo-screen.

"Get us out of here, Torin."

His response to Torin's conversation. This was no time for small talk in Nejaa's world. "Powering up cloaking uni-- Torin, Torin--!! Are you seeing that--!! Behind you!" The ship rocked with the oppressive damage of hind-fire. Where before there had been a blank radar scan, a ship now blinked about. "I think that's--" but he wasn't able to complete the sentence before the ship's blaster fire caught the ship in a tumble of turbulent flying. Nejaa's silence meant total concentration, as if having remembered something-- it was key to catch the the ship's cloaking sequence so as to track it regardless of its presence on the radars.

"Got it--! I've caught their ship!"

Littering Nejaa's data screen as if injected all at once, a gust of information started ticking in. Ship models, various model numbers and permits. Public information, as well as information logged onto the ship's personal systems. Docking procedure verifications, and a sleuth of other tid-bits. To the left, a small diagram of the ship showed for view, blinking softly in light reds. Nothing about it felt instantly Mygeeto, none of the information here even showed any kind of interaction with Mygeeto official law. "Defense turrets armed and returning fire," a few more sequence commands and he continued.

"Watch out! Pull up left--!! Are you trying to get us killed!?"

[member="Torin Varik"]

 

[Torin Varik]

"Get us out of here, Torin," Nejaa demanded.
"What do you think I'm doing?" A quick snap back, almost sugar-coated with a playful tone.
"Powering up cloaking uni-- Torin, Torin--!! Are you seeing that--!! Behind you!"

Nejaa's urgent shouting shook Torin's concentration. Heavy fire power shook Nejaa's ship. His jaw clenched. They couldn't take another attack from their invisible foe. Alarms sounded, both across the control room and echoing through the ship. In one last attempt to save the ship and possibly their lives, the ace skillfully deactivated manual limitation and surged a majority of the ships power to the primary engines. This would allow them to get out of reach in time... he hoped.

"Got it--! I've caught their ship!"

"Then we've got our target." Torin revved the ship in a sharp U-turn and sped off, sweeping around the cylindrical buildings and past the other ship. Meanwhile, the turrets turned to face their sneaky enemy and fired away. The ship's turrets did good work, firing a barrage of damage into what looked like an mirage outline of what it reflected behind it. The enemy ship took after theirs with intent to kill. He could sense their desperation, chaos, confusion. It didn't take too many well-aimed shots to wear down its defenses. As expected - with such a stealthy defensive mechanism, the ship itself wouldn't require much defensive support. The cloak faded in a crackle of digital disturbance and allowed for an open shot.

Torin navigated through the bulbous structures of the snow covered planet, ducking and dodging through obstacles while avoiding heavy fire from behind. He ignored his master's incessant bickering for the moment. If anything, it was making this more difficult than it needed to be. He pressed forward, forcing more acceleration before he suddenly pulled up and over one of the larger structures. His course was now reversed and he revved full speed toward the ship that pursued them. Dodging what he could, Torin weaved through oncoming fire before whizzing in closer. "We're going in. Aim for the cockpit. What kind of firepower does this thing have?"

[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Mygeeto Sector;
Outer Planetary Space;
Cities of Ice & Bridges.

"Torin... you've heard of solar ionization cannons, yeah?"

His pause was dramatic, a grin taking the place of his 'next sentence.' Sliding three touch-screen-triggers down on the left and dialing in a numerical sequence on the right, simultaneously, Nejaa gave the ship's command to fire. Unlike blasters, these bolts were made of pure, unstable energy. Unrefined, as blasters were, they held no specific shape, just a chaotic pulse. Thung, thung, thung-thung-thung--!! The first bolt fired was the fire to strike their opposer, only doing so because of the sudden nose dive it took into invisibility. As if it no longer existed, the entire starship slipped out of sight-- Nejaa's eyes widened with his mouth, though devoid of any noise.

"Wha-- no, I-- I had them stuck-- I told you, I said it!"

Swiping his main screen to the right angrily, as if it might somehow help, he glared over the ship's information logs. A static wire of electricity tore through the top of their cockpit, followed by an entire light show. All screens shut off, but only for a second, their blackened flicker completely resetting all programs.

"Torin-- get us the frack out of here, we're flying blind, I've lost them-- Frack! Ion blast, get us out, now. B-Back to Mygeeto, land at once-- I don't know how we have power, and we shouldn't count on having it for long."

Though Nejaa didn't bolster his stance in any frantic measure of physical defense. Instead, his white-knuckle-grip on the data-pads before him relaxed and he closed his eyes. Forcefully inhaled, attempting to do that which he struggled with so immensely, yet that which he always attempted in desperate moments. His mind, through the force, reached out to possibilities. All of the whisperings, picking apart anything he found, looking for options. It was rare that any-thing ever came. Seldom was his mind clear of stress, and it would be unlikely that now was the time at which he might reach clarity.

[member="Torin Varik"]

 

[Torin Varik]

Just when things were beginning to look up, the agile enemy ship dove into invisibility once again. Then a sudden awareness smashed into the pilot's senses. "Behind us!" He shoved the yoke forward, ducking the scimitar. But it wasn't enough. A heavy burst of electric energy jostled the ship and blew out its power. Torin grabbed at the controls, desperately trying to diagnose the ship's condition. He was suppose to be an Ace but his unfamiliarity with Nejaa's ship was hindering his potential. Frustration gripped at him and he scowled. This was exactly why he didn't like larger ships. Nejaa's incessant whining was certainly not helping the situation either.

"Nejaa... Please, try to calm yourself. Just give me a minute. I'll get us back on-" Another jolt shook them. Durasteel shrieked and moaned as the Scimitar was slowly pulled toward the enemy ship. Torin took a deep breath and tried to focus on the options at hand. He reached out with the force, hoping for an answer, but his concern for the other Jedi clouded him. It was too late to try to get the ship back online. Escaping the tractor beam was not an option at this point. These foes obviously wanted a face-to-face battle - a brave notion when dealing with a couple of Jedi. "They've got us locked in a tractor beam." He stood up and moved around the chair to face his master. "With the amount of power we have, there's little chance we can escape their hold on us. We'll have to play along for now. Besides, this will give us the opportunity to find out who they are and why they're attacking us."

The Infiltrator was sucked into place against the other ship's docking bay. The sudden movement threw Torin's balance and gravity pushed him forward and into Nejaa. To brace himself, he grabbed the back of the chair with one hand then the other, incidentally trapping Nejaa against the back of the chair. The ship stabilized and he regained his balance. At this point, the awkwardness of the moment had already been realized. Torin eyed the smaller boy - their difference in size became more apparent. He chuckled in light of the situation. "Apologies, Master. Wasn't expecting that."

[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Mygeeto Sector;
Planetary Space;
Cockpit

"With the amount of power we have, there's little chance we can escape their hold on us. We'll have to play along for now. Besides, this will give us the opportunity to find out who they are and why they're attacking us."

"Yes, perhaps. My thoughts dwell on one thing alone. If not to kill us, why do they want us? And if they're aware we're Jedi, what could they be planning from here? Be on your guard padawan, something feels... out of place here. We may be in need of your power once more."

At first, perhaps, it was a bit of a relief. Where they were not blown out of the sky and burned alive, shortly, thereafter being exploded by the infinite pressure of space and frozen there by its impossibly low temperature in numerous, gory sections-- they were trapped. Though, as it was, where one fear fell another was rose. Torin whirled out of his seat, at least preparing himself for the unbeknownst meat-shield effect. Gravity's pull on their hull provided yet another shaking jolt and Torin fell forward as if footwork meant nothing to him. Nejaa had been in the act of turning around himself, first shaken by the same turbulence, then bombarded with his much larger padawan. Left hand, caught behind the chair, made an immediate attempt to deflect the incoming human; of course failing to do anything other than spin in a single swerve. Right hand, perhaps in double speed so as to make up for its weaker counterpart, wafted in defensive chatter and caught the man by his torso.

"Apologies, Master. Wasn't expecting that."

"H-Heh, yes-- apology accepted, get off."

His push was more of a whispered suggestion, an appliance of pressure against the breast pocket of Torin's more rough naval get up. Instead of forcefully removing the elder male, he slipped away, his hand connected all the while. Another jolt, the sound of two large hulls locking together in boarding procedure, and he braced himself on the computer systems. Just now the ping-alert popped up across the large dash board readying all systems for 'go.' Too slow. Probably each and every one of his unique systems, personal uploads and more-than-frequent memory wiping. In fact, let's be honest shall we, complete system purges and reboots. He did love the ship in a certain fashion, though such an admiration did not stand in the way of a little torture-- it was, after all, the previous-belonging of his most despised enemy.

A whizzing noise from down under, and he could feel their hull being opened. All oxygen security had been long since confirmed. "Droids serve a very limited purpose and hopefully their appearance means something diplomatic. Follow my lead, padawan." With that, Nejaa retreated down the wide hatch and through to the deep-space boarding hatch. Unlike the nobility of the Scimitar's ground landing ramp, this opening barely permitted entrance without ducking. Already in the hatch's open framework was a droid. Clunky, and obviously of an outdated era, it watched as Nejaa approached, waiting until he got close before turning and retreating into its own landing bay area. Nejaa swallowed, though he knew how this game was played. He had to follow, an unspoken terms and agreements-- and their hand was forced.

"I have a baaaad feeling about this..."

But he answered the call of danger. To keep an enemy as confident as this waiting would be to ask for a quick destruction by blaster fire. Their ship, not the Jedi in a direct manner that is. Swaying into enemy territory, Nejaa kept one hand close to the lightsaber's hilt at all times. Their ship was dark on the inside, only lit by brightly lit arrays of information. The tech was all state of the art, Nejaa's eyes lowered into a grimace. This wasn't just some bounty hunter ship. No smuggler or criminal operated in this kind of shuttle; no, this was military of some sort. Though no clear insignia could be found, only the stench of wealth and power.

A chest mounted flashlight clicked on at the other end of the bay, followed by a few more luminescent panels. Human built, that much was clear. There, revealed in dim shade were two bodies, bent at the knee and barely hanging with the strength of their own cores. Bags, rough brown fabric, hung over their faces but it was obvious who they were. Both Jedi Nejaa and Torin had been assigned to accompany; or follow.

In one motion, his lightsaber was pulled and activated, the green whirr casting an unnatural glow on the surrounding durasteel and the threatening noise calmed with a deep laughter.

"Oh, relax Jedi, there's no need for violence here..."

Then, without warning, two blades of crimson jumped through each chest and hung there. Their noise was much more terrifying, partnered with the dying scream of each Jedi. In response, Nejaa couldn't manage anything, only stood there in silent horror. His blade fell an inch or two before he regained composure and tore it into a formal offensive stance. Juyo.

[member="Torin Varik"]

 

[Torin Varik]

Torin followed close behind his master as they entered the enemy ship. The interior was much more revealing than the exterior. The inhospitable and highly practical design of the interior made the contrast of sleek and military-grade technology all the more obvious. High functioning computers with large mounted monitors. It was certainly military but not like anything Torin had seen in the Republic. He kept his hands close to his weapons and his focus on the moment.

If not to kill us, why do they want us?

The padawan felt a sickening churn in the pit of his stomach. Something was very wrong. They needed to move, faster. Oddly sterile and too quiet, the durasteel environment felt more and more like a trap with each step. Then a bright stream of light spilled from a flashlight not more than a few meters in front of them. Two bent bodies were revealed and another figure hiding in plain sight behind the brightness of his chest mounted light source. Their attire made them quickly identifiable as Master Korto and Kohaa, her padawn. Torin's expression, once lit with hope, dropped into horror as the hiss of the sabers entering the flesh of his comrades. He couldn't save them.

Why couldn't I save them?!

Another tug in his stomach wrenched a memory out and into the light. The memory of a pain, learned by someone who has experienced great loss. A pain that Torin, no matter his attempts, could not entirely accept. With a violent whip, Torin ignited his weapon. A determined scowl tightened his expression. He slipped into his a fighting stance and began to move forward.

To seek revenge is to seek the dark side, Torin.
Do not give in to your anger. See your emotions as an observer would, rather than attach to them.

"If you do not seek violence, you've made an unwise choice, Sith." A deep growl supported Torin's sharp words.

[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Mygeeto Sector;
Planetary Space;
Hangar Bay.

It would be unwise to attempt calming his padawan, for fear of mistaking the action as being cold hearted. But he did not egg their new enemy on. The ship they were in was long, stretched like a missile cartridge. Now, only the red glow of twin sabers revealed he who stood in opposition to the Jedi's cause. It was clear the dark side had twisted him, a thick snarl upon his scale-green face. His body was small, skinny, and hardly human. Like an insect, oddly jointed limbs held up a slender build and massive bug eyes reflected a blood glow. Biting his lip, Nejaa began to piece things together. Obviously a Sith, and obviously a member of some faction to provide funding. A stealth ship, and only one passenger for stealth missions, not to mention a low grade astromech droid for surveillance reasons. It was commonly known that older, more dated droids were harder to trace merely because they off-put less frequencies; it was for this reason that Nejaa held on so dearly to his ancient gear heads.

"What is it you mean by bringing us here, Sith?"

"Is it not clear, dearest boy?"

"Nothing is clear--!! Speak your last words, there are two of us, surely you cannot think to win here."

"Such brave words. Unfortunately, I've heard them before."

The small insect motioned to the dead Jedi before him. Whether or not it was a bluff, Nejaa couldn't tell, nor did it matter. Something had all but defeated those two Jedi, and thus far, Nejaa had seemed to play into his hands. They were at least better off here than in space with the lunatic behind them. He could feel their opponent's power surge, though it was a physical prowess they were about to witness.

"Torin, slowly."

But the Sith didn't wait, pushing off the ground and swirling high into the air. Both blades whipped around its small body so as to cover it from all sides, and when he fell he was able to place a strike in the direction of either Jedi. Nejaa's blade twirled about with a skillful grace and tapped his opponent's blade to the left of his body so that instead it smacked the metal ground and erupted in sparks of orange and red. It was a well coordinated attack, but split between two opponents this Sith seemed manageable. What then had brought down the other two? What was wrong here?

[member="Torin Varik"]

 

[Torin Varik]

Torin quickly stepped to the side as the Sith landed between them. In a quick and powerful motion, he wrapped his lightsaber back around his body and flicked his wrist back. He collided with the red lightsaber, knocking it away with his own blue blade. Staying light on his feet, he leaped back, as if playing defensive, but really for the momentum required for his next attack.

He lunged in, coming at the insect of a being with a powerful downward strike. These... monsters... wreaking havoc on the galaxy, destroying the peace the Jedi Order had fought so hard to protect. The Sith brushed off the padwan's strike with a wide swing, then another block and another. His opponent had to focus to keep up with Torin's barrage of offensive strikes. Like it meant nothing to them. It wasn't long before the Sith was able to force him back enough to catch the padawan off guard. It's spindly hand shot out in front of him as a burst of force energy shoved Torin back and into a large crate of cargo. The weight of his body slamming against it didn't move it much. His lightsaber deactivated as he landed. He almost crumpled onto the floor at the base of the crate but caught himself with a hand pressed against it. His eyes flashed angrily at the monster before him. He quickly ignited his light saber once again. He pushed himself off the cargo crate and back into action.

[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Mygeeto Sector;
Planetary Space;
Hangar Bay.

And in one motion, both Jedi were pushed backwards. Torin by force, Nejaa by choice, a pitter patter of light steps and a buzz-whirling of emerald color. Torin's body hit hard against the metal where his own stopped just inches before colliding with its surface. His breathing was becoming heavier, faster and faster. Erratic. The attack was a part of the duelist's form, especially powerful against other dueling participants; in this case, that applied to any and all Jedi. It was a form Nejaa was not familiar with, actually, so he knew not its natural weaknesses-- at least none that he could draw from currently. It seemed the Sith had already figured the master and apprentice, and was now honing in on the more 'valuable' of the two.

"Nngh--!!"

The Sith's next attack was just as fierce, and twice as focused, each blade churning in forward motion towards Nejaa who responded simply. Nejaa's defensive movement began almost before the sith's had ended, an instant side step and a curling soresu counter-block to guide both crimson blades into the metal crates behind. Chattering in an angry insect's language, the sith tore both blades from their previous grave just in time for the wall to fall forward and burry him in heavy material. A simple application of the force by Nejaa, of course, gathered in the spinning steps of Juyo movement. Hopping back a few steps until his back fell now closer to ship's interior hull.

"Surely you bluff, Sith. You alone could not have dispatched these Jedi. What is your business with us that demands for this kind of violence?"

By now, the sith had shown clear signs of continued life, pushing the metal off from him despite it weighing probably more. "I can assure you, puny Jedi," the sith coughed with pitched vibrations, "their deaths were at my hands." With that, the Verpine deactivated both blades and stood in place. Torin's bulk would have been once again ready for action if you know what I mean, both jedi in place to counter any devious schemes.

[member="Torin Varik"]

 

[Torin Varik]

Torin gathered himself into an attack stance, still a bit winded from the blow, but standing tall and broad. This Sith was, no doubt, a very strong opponent. Perhaps he was out of Torin's league. However, he had faith that he and Nejaa together would have a chance. From what of the boy's powers were demonstrated to the Ace, he had faith in Nejaa's strength as a Jedi. The padawan followed his master's accusations but failed to see why they would matter - his thoughts still clouded with emotion. This foe was to pay for what he, and his war-mongering allies, had done to the Republic and to the Jedi. There was no justification for his crimes other than to pay right here and now with his life.

"And I can assure you... you will answer for your actions!" Torin's growl escalated to an angered release of breath as he lunged at the enemy once again, with a little help from the force this time. A light skip step to add momentum to his swing and then an eruption of hissing, spitting purple light as they collided. Up and over, to the left, around his right side, the blades-man continued his relentless attacks against the darkened being. Each hit seemed to only require a casual brush of a block, but Torin could tell he was wearing him down. At least distracting him from his focus on Nejaa as the only formidable opponent.

[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Mygeeto Sector;
Planetary Space;
Docking Bay.

With Torin's attack, Nejaa fell in as well. Of course, he was completely focused, but not very offensive. Torin's pounding seemed to keep the Sith's own sabers at bay, and any narrow strike made at him was easily pulled to the side in a graceful display of soresu sweeping. Against Ataru, the duelist's form would be an easily won victory, Torin's saving grace being another presence. Another dangerous target. In truth, they were pushing him back, forcing him to retreat slowly down the long tube of metal adrift in space. Despite their opponent's aggressive form, he was deemed only able to progress defensive formations and an ever changing foot work which may or may not belong to any one style. With a powerful, over head cleave, Nejaa's green blade bashed and twisted until the enemy's weapon was removed from grip and scattered onto the floor. With only one blade left, the Sith pushed away into retreat, followed by a second side-cleave from Nejaa-- though this attack wasn't guarded by the red blade opposite it. Instead, the sith held out his forearm, a thin line of metal lining a rather weak looking gauntlet.

As soon as contact was made, Nejaa's lightsaber blade flickered, green lines of static electricity coursing along its surface. Nejaa's eyes widened, but by the time anything happened Torin's ataru had already smacked against the same trap.

"Cortosis-- Torin--" Too late.

In a second, the tables had turned, and Nejaa's blade retreated back into his handle. Reaching for his second blade in a moment of dread, the Sith lunged forward and wove a slash down Nejaa's leg. He called out in pain, falling backwards before a similar attack was made against Torin-- thankfully, Torin would have more time to react or draw distance between himself and the attacker. Fingers tightly gripping whatever he could find to stabilize himself. The green light of his second blade was met only with yet another activation-- the red lightsaber he had knocked aside earlier now returned to its masters grasp. Nejaa's eyes seemed unable to stretch much wider, fear bathing him in flames as he continued to put more and more distance between himself and the bug. So that had been his trick all along. A cortosis surprise to eliminate lightsabers, here, in such a close quarters facility. Thankfully Nejaa carried two, a bonus not shared by most others.

"Now you see, don't you, master jedi. You're not so tough after all, are you?"

"What is your business with us," Nejaa demanded again.

"Persistent, hn hn hn. I've had you in my sights since Kashyyk, young master."

He couldn't come any closer, but he was. The Sith fearlessly, almost tauntingly what with his slow speed, stalked Nejaa down the corridor, both blades easily enough to detain both Jedi. "K-Kashyyk? But the Jedi-- how?" Nejaa spilled, his blade waving about in one last attempt at intimidation before green and red locked once more.

"You're all a weak race, Jedi."

[member="Torin Varik"]

 

[Torin Varik]

It all happened so fast. Torin had little time to heed Nejaa's warning before his own blade made contact with the dark metallic gauntlet. The blue light faded in a sharp crackling hiss. All that remained was the hilt in his hands. Cortosis. A cheap shot against a Jedi. Just what he should've expected from the coward of a creature. Nejaa's cry echoed through the bay as Torin struggled to regain his blade. Swiftly following his attack against the master, the Sith swept his saber to the padawan. Torin called on the force to evade the attack by propelling him back in a leap but the red blade could not be avoided. Its tip sliced at the human's chest, dividing his left breast pocket in two and leaving a cauterized gash across his pectoral. "Tsch--!" A pained hiss pressed through his lips.

Stumbling back he quickly regained his balance. Incessantly clicking the activation button of his saber, his hazel eyes darted up and back as the Sith pursued his master. "Come on, come ooon!" Torin growled impatiently at his defective weapon which only rewarded him with sputtering flashes and pathetic snaps. He had to help Nejaa. He could not allow another Jedi to be killed at the hand of the One Sith. He could not allow them that victory. Not again.

The filthy creature's arrogant words pushed the padawan's frustration. Shoving his lightsaber back in its place on his belt, Torin drew his pistol. He aimed it at the insect - now locking blades with the wounded Nejaa - and fired a warning shot. Meant to catch his attention than anything else. "Do not underestimate the Jedi." His words defended the order with vigor. He kept his aim true and his stance solid. There was no fear in his eyes. Only determination fueled with revenge. "Take me as your opponent, filth. I'll show you who the weak race is."

[member="Nejaa Niynx"]