Bakura Knights

[Darron Wraith]

@[member="Sargon Vynea"]

En Route To Bakura...

"Mommy! Look at what I made!" The little girl ran up the asile and showed her new trinket she had made from straw to the mother, who doted on her. "Oh honey, come sit over here please? We only have a few more hours and I'd like to spend time with you and your sister?" The girl nodded quickly and went to grab her sister from the allotment of children playing in one of the few open areas, a few adults of all species were monitoring the children. The few security guards on the transport stood out, armed to their eyeballs. Some were carrying the slugthrowers best known to be made by Czerka, others were wearing the new weapons from Blas-Tech. A few, and very rare, pieces of alien technology stuck out as well. Trained eyes followed the scene before him, but he quickly stopped starting towards the guards and pulled his robes further over his face. On a tramp transport such as this, that was making it's way to the fringe, a hooded man didn't stand out.

Of course he wasn't alone.

"Honey, did check our bags? Are you sure there is nothing bad on this vess-" A loving hand came up a few rows away from the robed man, and he only passively watched the scene. Trained senses were reaching out, pushing further while keeping his own considerable aura squashed. It's why he had been handed this assignment, along with a few other Knights and Masters foolish enough to risk their lives on simple refuge transports. Many a fist had been beaten trying to stop him, but he simply shrugged it off. "Love, everything is fine. Look at those guards, we will be fine." Behind the shadow of his hood he looked around once more, checking for anything overtly suspicious. Relying on his five senses to point him in the right direction without having the Force be his crutch, or a signal to those interested in him being so far away. It's not the guards who are protecting you, in fact I'm pretty sure one of them is out to harm you.

The thought was a melancholy one, but the truth was often not happy. Spies were the quickest means of gathering information, and double agents were the quickest means of sowing discord.

Cloak clung tightly around his massive arms and back, he made sure to let extra fabric cover every exposed surface of him. Only a few stray blonde locks were visible, but the the rest he was simply a shadow. Through the Force, he would be viewed as an empty spot. An absence that would only be noticeable to the most trained eye. Art of the Small was something only the most astute could Master, and reaching out and trying to sense darkness while squashing your own self made the task that much more difficult. The entire ride had been an exercise in meditation, but he had graciously accepted it. The Jedi Master couldn't save the lives that had been lost, and mourning them would only leave him stuck in one place. That failure was over with.

So he vowed to do better, and prevent a repeat. Inaction was the means by which evil was perpetuated, and the fear of those who didn't have the means to stand up. The Jedi in question, so painfully hiding what made him so unique was not afraid..and he was not known for inaction. Trained senses had tagged three individuals seated that were potential threats, and one who was pretending to be a guard as the fourth. How to manage this situation, and not reveal myself? He wasn't worried, but a Jedi Master, much less the former GrandMaster had zero business out near the fringe. That thought caught his attention even as the vessel lurched to a stop, tractor beams? Are we being boarded? A ball rolled and hit his boot, and he paid the little Zeltron girl attention as she grabbed the ball and just started into his face. "Hey Mister,you have really pretty eyes. Are you okay?"

He didn't reach out to her, he merely smiled and answered in kind. "You do your mother and father proud, but please go get seated. I think it's about to get interesting in here and I don't want you running around and miss the show." The little girl nodded and ran off as the distinct noise of airlocks opening and boarding ramps opened. Meanwhile, Darron Wraith merely sat there with his two ligthsaber hilts and the full might of the Force.

 

[Sargon Vynea]

The Defender glided silently among the stars as it trailed behind its prey. The transport's ID code was legal, but its route was off of its charted course. In normal times this would barely be noticed, and a simply check in with transport would have solved it. These were not normal times though. The taking of Phu had created incredible stress along the Fringe's borders, even the Atrisian Empire seemed to question their motive for being so close. Relations with the Omega Protectorate were in a much worse state then simple questioning of motives, and in truth Sargon was surprised violence along the border hadn't started yet.

::Transport 2334, this is the Fringe battleship The Defender. You are currently off your charted route and have been selected for a full inspection. You will stop your engines, and we will position you for board.:: The orders were simple, and impossible for the small transport not follow as the tractor beam was already pulling the ship in. The ship was commanded by a rather grandfather looking man, Captain Nelax. He was a pragmatic man who was well known for taking care of his ship, and its crew. The battleship was one of several attached to the world of Bakura, but this particular one had the honor of being the Governor's personal escort.

The governor of Bakura though was not a politician, or even a man of great wealth. He was a soldier, a former Optio of the Fringe's legions, and a man who wasn't going to be watching the boarding party from a monitor. With the transport locked in place, and a pair of shuttles sealed onto it they breached. The first wave of men went in guns at the ready eyes roaming the crowd in search of any danger. Their legionnaire armor and drawn weapons creating a wave of fear through the passengers. It wasn't the way Sargon wanted it to go, but there was a protocol to follow, and he wasn't above the very laws he passed.

Walking through the doorway he quickly scanned the room with eyes used to the battlefield. It all seemed so much more simpler when he was a soldier, but now it was his duty to give the speeches. It was his duty to give the commands, and make the decisions that cost people he would never met their lives. "Please if I could have your attention for just a moment I promise you will be on your way. I am Sargon Vynea governor of Bakura, and from what I understand Bakura is the end of the line for most of you. These men you see before you are members of the 121st Legion, and they also call Bakura home. So you see we all want the same exact thing to get to our home whether new or old quickly, and safely. My men will be quickly scanning the ship, and it would expedite things if you could have your IDs out. As a side note for those of you coming to our beautiful world for work may I suggest you visit Dar'Veen. Its currently undergoing some rather extensive industrial growth, it would be a good place to start your search."

Sargon gave a small smile to the passengers as his legionnaires passed through the isles checking IDs. He imagined they had to be quite frightened, and he understood it completely. Battle armor wasn't a pretty thing for a reason, however this moment would pass. Soon they would be on on Bakura, and Sargon would ensure they were checked on to make sure they had found a niche there. He had given up his armor, and instead wore a grey military uniform. He did not however forgo his blade, and shield. Watching a little girl shrunk into her mother's arms in fear he knelt down and smiled at her. No small, polite smile this time, but a full on grin broke the Zabrak's stern demeanor. "Don't worry, little one, you'll be home soon. I promise."

Standing slowly he looked around the rest of the ship slowly. It looked like everything would be wrapped up in a minute, but in his gut he knew there was something going on. He knew now that these feelings weren't just a normal instinct, but his own very rudimentary feel on the force. Closing his eyes he attempted to feel it, but as always it seemed just a step away. Like the wings of a butterfly he felt the breeze but could never catch it.

 

[Darron Wraith]

The 121st Legion came in with startlingly efficiency, as evidenced by the hush that fell over everyone on board. There were no sounds of children playing, no laughter from new and old friends. Small, idle chatter had ceased and now a silence had fallen over the vessel. If not for the fact that he had just seen a child not seconds before the soldiers had briskly walked in, he would never have seen any of them. Mothers were clutching their loved ones close, and a few muffled sobs could be heard among a few louder cries. Some of the adults were even visibly upset, and a few stray tears were visible. Emotion was running rife through the Force, even in a compressed state like it was was enough to make a novice choke on it. Fear was permeating the air, masking the darkness the Jedi Master had ferreted out. Fog threatened to cloud his senses, so he let go of the focus he had held, and allowed his own aura start to show.

It was subtle, but escalation called for a response. Senses unimpeded, he could fully reach out. Immediately, the number of threats spiked, though not as high as planned. Seems, those who follow the Velok doctrine are indeed numerous. Thankfully, and by the will of the Force itself, most of the soldiers were loyal to the man who was speaking. Wraith skimmed the details on the man, noted his name and position. What truly caught his focus was his aura, not as bright as some, but enough good to stick out in a place such as this. Further digging could reveal more details, but Darron was too engrossed in the fact that he needed to pull an ID out. They would finally start searching for some records right when we are the end of our journey. Tattered robes shifted as he reached into a pocket to produce an image of a man that looked nothing like him with the name of "Jornan Beskita."

Really? This was what the Intelligence boys came up with?

"Sir, your ID please? We need to verify you are who you say you are." A nod of the head was all the soldier got as the Jedi Master kept his attention focused outward as his field of responsibility expanded. Apprehension started to creep in, and Darron quickly snuffed out that potential fire. "You think I have a funny name, but everything on my ID checks out. You want to wish me a happy trip, and then you're going to head over to your leader and do your job." Tense muscles relaxed, and the ID was freely offered back. In one motion he put the ID back up, and the soldier mumbled before walking off. "You have a funny name, but everything checks out. I hope your travel is safe, and I'm going to get back in formation." A subtle suggestion was all it took, and it allowed Darron to keep his senses elsewhere. Intent hit his senses, and he was in motion as the Force hinted.

Darkside energies rolled, as one of those who wish to do harm stood. Years of training responded as one lightsaber came to life with a snap hiss as it met a gloved hand. With a bit of his will wrapped around the blade, he unleashed a saber throw. With the Force working in conjunction with him, his aim was true. The smell of cauterized flesh was present as screams sounded off in the room. Another scream sounded, and two more stood. Electrum plated hilt found home, and Darron once more reached out and slammed the two Sith together head first, knocking them out for questioning. Everyone was staring at the man with the azure lightsaber blade inside the ship, and all rifles were trained on him.

A whisper sounded in his ear, and he noticed three barrels behind @[member="Sargon Vynea"] aiming towards the Zabrak. "I'm sorry for this." Standing tall, he extended his hand of flesh and let all his emotions leave him. In that moment of clarity electric judgement split from his fingers and hit three seperate targets. In an open area he would have engaged the three now unconscious men, but in the tight quarters he had to protect all innocents. Seeing all threats had been eliminated, he deactivated the blade and clipped it to his waist. "Apologies Gover Vynea, those men were about to kill you. I had reason to believe they were working with the three I just took down, and that there is a bomb somewhere on this ship meant to increase political tensions."

Fear was running rampant, and aggression was soaring. Well, the ruse is up.

Pulling the hood off his face, the golden chest plate he wore was exposed as well. He stood to his full height and kept eye contact with the Zabrak. "My name is Darron Wraith, I am a Jedi Master on the Council and I serve the Republic. I'm on a mission to protect ships such as these and ferret out such attacks before they can happen again."

 

[Sargon Vynea]

Sargon was no stranger to violence, and sadly for him he wasn't a stranger to force lightning either. As such he knew quite well that if the man had intended him to be his target he'd be on the ground already. Looking around him Sargon noted the unconscious bodies and the dead amongst the passengers and guards. With a small nod he made a decision, "Optio, secure the unconscious prisoners in The Defender for questioning. I want the civilians evacuated to the ship immediately, but keep them in the shuttle bay for precaution purposes. Leave two teams to sweep this ship from to back."

Turning back to the Jedi Master he put out his hand, "Give me your trust, and I shall reward you with mine. Let me hold on to your lightsaber until this bomb is found, and the truth of your words proven. In return I will allow you to stay a free man and aid the teams in finding the bombs, or you may join the evacuated civilians on my ship. You have my word no harm will come to you while you are my guest." Turning his eyes towards the moving crowd as they were leaving he watched the frightened people lining up for the exits. "Its a shame really, they come in search of a second chance, but the horrors of war still chase them. The scars we leave upon our children."

@[member="Darron Wraith"]

 

[Darron Wraith]

@[member="Sargon Vynea"]

Ozone flooded his nostrils, and everything was felt by his senses. The tension in the soldiers, how their rifles were pointed at his torso and head. Fear was rolling off of them, and apprehension at the man who hadn't even really used his lightsaber. Ozone was heavy in the air from the electric judgement, and all eyes were on him. Elevated heart rates were nothing he wasn't used to, but through the Force he could feel and hear everything. Whatever calm had been over this vessel only minutes before was gone, evaporated like water next to a blaster bolt. In it's place was a powder keg, waiting to go off. For a moment, silence was all that was heard. The only sound besides the sounds of crying and the soldiers adjusting their rifles was the sound of a single lightsaber. Fully cloaked, Wraith held fast, but didn't take up a stance to indicate he was about to attack.

Sargon Vynea addresed him, and Darron couldn't help but take notice of those words. "Promise me everyone on this ship will be allowed to make it home, promise me that they will not be berated or treated harshly for being here. I can promise you that those responsible are either withering in pain, in shock, or dead. Whatever they were using is here, but I'm no fool. They brought more, and I don't think it would be on a vessel of this size. Search all you want, and you will probably find something. Just don't assume you have stopped these cultist, this monster has many heads." His azure blade dissapeared as he pressed the activation switch again. Calmly, Darron took the final few steps to the Zabrak, and extended the hilt, emitter pointing toward the Jedi.

"In good faith, here." Wraith pulled inside the cloak and un-clipped his other lightsaber hilt. It matched the first perfectly, and both were designed for Vaapad combat. "Here is my other lightsaber. Do your duty Govenor, and I"m trusting you to be good to these people. My primary mission was stopping this attack, but if your men threaten these refugees. I will get those lightsabers back."

 

[Sargon Vynea]

With a nod Sargon took the sabers in his hands and activated one staring at it. He'd never actually used anything besides a sword before so the weight difference and balance were notable. Switching it off he handed them to the Optio in charge of his security detail. "As I said, Master Jedi, these people are being evacuated for their own good. If there is a bomb here I want them safely removed from the situation. The Fringe is a sanctuary for people like these, and Bakura will see them prosper. While I appreciate your concern for them I thank you for leaving it in my hands."

Once the transport was clear of civilians and prisoners the large military grade scanners were brought in. While the scanning teams spread throughout the transport Sargon simply watch silently. After a quick thought passed through his head he switch on his comms, ::Defender, this is Governor Vynea you are to pull back five thousand kilometers to reduce the danger to the ship. If the transport does explode you are to immediately contact command and notify them of possible terrorist infiltrations.::

Pulling out a datapad he entered in the name of Darron Wraith, and to his surprise saw a note from the Grand Admiral on him. Details were extremely sketchy but the note was something very different. It seems the man wasn't to harmed and any issues with him needed to be relayed to command. Before he could open up a comms channel though one of the scanners went wild. "Governor Vynea, we have something here. Most likely from the scan a bomb with a ridiculous amount of explosive material. I'd suggest we quarantine the transport and wait for a team to come in."

Nodding his consent Sargon handed the Jedi back his lightsabers, "Would you join me on the Defender, Master Jedi? A team will come by later to deal with the bomb itself, and I'm going to need to need any details you know of these attacks. Bombing military vessels are bad enough, but when anyone stoops to using a civilian transport its vile. A man ought to be able to face his opponent before he dies." Holding his hand out towards one of the shuttle door it was more a request then an order, Sargon had respect for a man who had the Grand Admiral's attention.

@[member="Darron Wraith"]

 

[Darron Wraith]

@[member="Sargon Vynea"]

Hope, fear, sadness, and confusion.

These were the things he saw in everyone's eyes as they grabbed what possessions they had on them, when in truth they didn't have much. Soldiers giving orders in steely tones were enough to push some of the people on edge, and Wraith could see it in their faces. War carved a long and winding path, and it had displaced theses people. Multiple races, nationalities, and worlds where looking back at the Jedi Master. They didn't understand how they had missed this man, this savior to them. He could see it in their faces, and the children especially made no effort to hide how they felt about him. Most simply didn't see a Jedi, much less a Master out and about. Holo-vids were the closest most could ever get, and most were desensitized to the power of a Force-user after seeing them on the Holo-net, or living through military attacks and occupations. Seeing that type of ability up close and personal had a way of shutting people up, and making those who would threaten you keep their distance.

Finally having a wide-beth, Wraith simply stood over in a corner to himself as the military grade scanners went to work. The operators said nothing to him, through his peripherals he noted Sargon going through files. When the subordinate came through on the comm-channel, Darron's attention fully went to that conversation. Thank the Force, I was right. That was all that mattered, and not a living soul would be on the vessel. Finally feeling at ease, he came to stand near the Governor of Bakura. A small ghost of a smile, the smile of a man who had seen terrible things, finally appeared. "Looks like we did some good today Governer Vynea, thank you for trusting me."

A few seconds later, he was wearing his lightsabers again. "Well, you seem to trust me. So I'm going to trust your word that you will get these refugees somewhere safe. The last thing they need is more conflict, they need to be on solid ground. Do this, and I'll gladly give you all the intelligence I have and help you with your investigation. Take a look at the bodies, they are more than likely wearing Omega Pyre armor or something to tie them to the Atrisians or the Republic. The whole intent of these attacks is to cause discord to lead to other attacks." Darron could only shake his head in disgust at the acts being perpetuated.

"Lead the way, and I will gladly follow."

 

[Sargon Vynea]

With a nod Sargon lead the Jedi Master, and his remaining men into his shuttle and left the transport quarantined by Defender. The shuttle wouldn't be returning to the battleship though, they were headed straight to the Chimera, Grand Admiral Karrde's personal ship. "Master Jedi, you should know that we are headed for the Grand Admiral's ship at the moment. The Defender will stay behind until engineers arrive from Bakura, and then they will be brought to Bakura safely. The files on you have indicated you are of great interest her. You are not a prisoner, and you may choose to refuse this. I ask however that you come with me and give the information directly to Grand Admiral Karrde."

@[member="Darron Wraith"]

 

[Darron Wraith]

@[member="Sargon Vynea"]

"A file on me? I've never even interacted with the Fringe, with the exception of missions here long before there was an organized government out here. No matter how loose it is at the moment." Wraith picked his brain for a moment, trying to think of a mention of a Grand Admiral Karrde. A few dossiers came to mind, along with briefings, and he couldn't associate a name with a face like he usually could. Long a galactic player on the larger stage, Darron was at a loss. The only fact he could pull up off his brain was the fact that the Admiral was the leader of the Fringe government for the most part. Keeping pace with Sargon, he calmly walked into the shuttle and grabbed one of the handles on the ceiling as it took off. The refugees looking at the men now standing, their relief was practically oozing off of them. They were safe now, and that made the Master relax slightly.

"Sure, take me to whomever I need to see. A free exchange of information is no problem at this point, I'm on your territory after all. It's only fair you know what strikes at your own borders."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

The shuttle came into visual range of a certain vessel, unlike anything else in the Unknown Regions. Black, with Imperial lines, it was fairly clearly an old Sith Empire Invictus-class Star Destroyer, but studded with additional guns, professionally installed. Only one such ship had ever existed; nobody else had ever bothered to modernize the Invictus.

The Chimaera. At this point, Ashin imagined that Darron could put two and two together, assuming Sargon had told Master Wraith that he was of special interest. And so, when the shuttle touched down in the Chimaera's hangar bay, Grand Admiral Karrde met the little vessel in person. Her face was different, and Empress Desmius had never worn a military uniform, but those unnaturally pale blue eyes should tell him something. She offered him half a smile.

"Thank you, Governor Vynea," she said. "Master Wraith, welcome to the Chimaera, the flagship of the Fringe. I think, perhaps, a few things are becoming clear."

She turned and limped toward the turbolift. An old wound, that -- one she'd taken from Darron at Roche.

@[member="Sargon Vynea"] @[member="Darron Wraith"]

 

[Darron Wraith]

@[member="Ashin Varanin"] @[member="Sargon Vynea"]

Walking off the shuttle, robe billowing in his wake. He couldn't help but take note of how this vessel didn't match anything that he would have assumed to see outside the Empire. The angles on the ship indicated construction by someone of the highest quality, and he could tell that this vessel had been built with money from a large government. An Empire in fact, but there was no memory of a vessel of the sort. Even at Roche, he had never seen something so impress from the Imperial navy. Granted he had been engaged in the fight of his life, the penultimate duel that had forever shaped his destiny. It sounded like exaggeration even to himself, but it was the honest truth. The events on that asteroid had changed him, and two governments in one day.

So it was, that he was slapped with a familiar aura, and a pair of eyes he couldn't forget. The muscles in his stomach tightened, and the scar tissue in his abdomen hurt for a moment. A mark from the very woman standing before him, though her true name was one he wouldn't utter among mixed company. A lifetime ago his shock would have shown, but in a galaxy as chaotic as this one he simply took it in stride.

"You're right Admiral Karrde, they most surely are." He extended a hand to shake hers. "It's been too long, and it warms my heart to see you doing well stranger. I'll be blunt, your borders are going to be under attack. It's why I'm here, to prevent a political nightmare from these terrorists making a government their scapegoat. I'm sorry for not informing you, but discretion was needed, and I had no idea who was leading the Fringe. Governor Sargon here did a most excellent job. You've found a good one here."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

"High-handed and well intentioned. Good to see you're still a Jedi purist." A grin took half the sting from her words. "Governor Vynea is excellent, yes. A man of duty. Functional. Until recently, he put his own Force training on hold in order to better serve his men and fill his responsibilities. He's also doing excellent work on Bakura. We've had a major influx of refugees in recent months, and Bakura is one of our more popular destinations for new settlers. Whatever they may say about us in the Core, Master Wraith, if the Fringe can be summed up in one word, that word is refuge. Refuge for anyone."

 

[Sargon Vynea]

Sargon listened to the conversation without a word, in all honesty he enjoyed hearing he did a good job. He did not however indulge in it, or attempt false modesty. He'd worked hard on Bakura, and in return the Bakurans were working very hard to make their home a better place. Handing a datapad holding all the pertinent information to the Grand Admiral, he reported. "Grand Admiral, it appears whomever these terrorists were working for their destination was Bakura. I've removed the refugees from the ship and they are being brought in with the Defender. Master Wraith has been completely honest, and helpful in the affair. The prisoners from the transports should be arriving shortly to be questioned. I've also included more details on the Bakuran shipyards projects on the datapad, and with luck we will see it hit test phase before the end of the year."
@[member="Ashin Varanin"]
@[member="Darron Wraith"]

 

[Darron Wraith]

@[member="Ashin Varanin"] @[member="Sargon Vynea"]

"The fact that you've finally found your true place while bettering the lives of the untold eases my mind. I had no idea what you had been doing, and whispers only amount to so much in this galaxy." He chuckled at her mention of him being high-handed, but she meant well with it. "Say what you will, if you saw some of the Jedi that frequent the Order now you'd probably try to burn both temples down. Sargon over here is one of the few honorable men I've met in months, actually gave me my lightsabers back after he promised to do that. I thought I'd have to take them back if this ended up being a trap."

Wraith fell silent, listening to the two "Fringers" talk to each other.

"If you want, I'd like to help. I know this is your territory, and my job is technically done. You know how I am Admiral, let me help see this through. Innocent life is innocent life, and I'd rather prevent further harm if you'd let me."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

If there was a pause to Ashin's nod, it was brief. "Of course, Darron," she said. "Keep it clandestine if you can -- I don't fancy trying to explain to my people how I let a Jedi Master run rampant in my territory. Governor Vynea will, of course, keep this to himself. He's cut from a different cloth.

"I have a small Yuuzhan Vong invasion to counter, gentlemen. My time is up. Take whatever ships you need -- Animus assault couriers, maybe. And keep in touch."

 

[Sargon Vynea]

With a salute Sargon watched the Grand Admiral leave, his comms already going off to announce the arrival of the prisoners from the transport. "Master Jedi, if you would follow me our prisoners have arrived via a shuttle. As for ships the Defender is currently wrapping up its drop off of the civilians to Bakura, I'd be more then happy to utilize it in aiding our en-devour. We can either keep the prisoners here, or we can take their shuttle back to the Defender with us and question then en route. I'll leave the choice up to you, Master Jedi, they are technically your prisoners."

@[member="Darron Wraith"]

 

[Darron Wraith]

@[member="Sargon Vynea"] @[member="Ashin Varanin"]

"Thank you Grand Admiral, good with that invasion." They both nodded, though Wraith let it develop into a bit more into a bow. Of all the foes he had face, she was the one who he respected the most. Seeing her had warmed his heart in a way he hadn't expected, as she was one of the few people who understood him. Guess that's what comes with the fraternity of being this powerful as well as the leadership that is thrust upon. Their battle at Roche had brought understanding and peace between the two of them, and Wraith himself had grown from the trials he had endured after. None of them had been her fault, and her hard words had done what was needed. "May the Force be with you," he whispered before fully turning to give Sargon his attention.

"Thank you for allowing me to come with, and I look forward to this." Keeping pace with the Zabrak Governor, he contemplated his words. "I firmly believe in getting the job done, I don't' think we need to let a time-sensitive issue such as this be bogged down. We bring them with us, and question them in route. Who knows?" He shrugged his shoulders at his thought. "Maybe being so near their own weapon of terrorism can inspire them to help us and speed our mission up?"

Or it would scare the feth out of them. Either or, he thought.

 

[Sargon Vynea]

As the shuttle was bathed in the light of hyperspace Sargon sat with the Jedi Master at the bay of the shuttle. Before them were five men locked in ray shields a technology even a force user was prey to. They'd woken up on the trip to the Chimera, but had been dosed with a sedative to put them back to sleep. In his hand Sargon held five false teeth,and all of them contained a small amount of poison that would have instantly killed its user, the last precaution of a zealot.

Putting the teeth into a small bag for evidence the governor shook his head at the situation. "There are things worth dying for in life, but is murder, and causing terror worth dying for? People work everyday against all odds to better themselves, and this is their fate? No, Master Jedi, this must be stopped now."

Opening a small metal box with five needles that would counter act the sedatives he picked one up, and handed it to @[member="Darron Wraith"]. "I'll let you choose the first interview." Taking a step back from the situation Sargon lowered his head, and closed his eyes. He was in truth distressed, these people sought out the lives of his own, and for no reason then to create more death. With a soft exhale Sargon relaxed his senses, and calmed his mind.

He hadn't reached for the force in the Jedi's presence yet, and that was much because he simply didn't want his lack of knowledge to show as much as anything else. He needed the calmness it brought though, and the reassurance that he felt in the force that life was never truly extinguished. Letting it flow over him Sargon embraced the whisper on the winds that were the force. Like a summer breeze he felt it flow around him, and through. Letting its touch calm his mind he stretched out his senses with the flow of the force. He did not try to master it, or even understand it now. He simply allowed himself to rest in it's presence, and the sensation of life aboard the ship flowed through it as well. In truth he wondered how anyone could seek to kill once they truly felt the beautiful depths of life through the force, but he could not judge the force lead each person on their own path.

 

[Darron Wraith]

@[member="Sargon Vynea"]

Seated next to Sargon, he finally felt the Zabrak next to him open up. Darron barely paid any attention to the teeth in the bag, or the small dribbles of blood from the terrorists mouth. There was absolutely zero bruising on their faces, indicating that they had been treated properly. Reaching out, he could feel their weak minds holding on to their belief. It was like a poison on their souls, and it tainted their aura's. Conviction and belief were powerful things, and they had them in spades. What flawed these men before them were their weak minds, they had been recruited because they were a "few cards short of a full deck" as a mercenary would say. To put it bluntly, if pressed for questioning they wouldn't give up those who had made them feel important and gave them a cause. Prod them with a suggestion with the Force, and they'd feed you anything you wanted to know. It wasn't perfect, but it was what it was.

"Sargon, a moment in private if you will?" He reached and tugged on the Zabraks shoulder as he stood and walked over towards the other end of the shuttle where they could have some privacy. Darron leaned against the wall as they rode peacefully, and he let the gentle vibration of the vessel calm him. His companion caught up, and he raised a hand to indicate he stay standing.

"I'm going to assume that you have rudimentary training, I felt you open up. Will you try a concept for me, it's what saved me from myself really. I wasn't always so one with the Force, and my emotions dictated or shaded my actions." That calm he was known for, was legendary for in fact, held as always. Memories of his past rolled through, and the terrible things he had done. With an inhale, he let it all in, and exhaled it out. "This is called the empty cup concept. We, our body and mind is the cup. What is in the cup is our emotion, our bias, everything negative that can cause us to try and use the Force instead of working with it. This leads to us bending the Force to our will, when if we are clear of mind and purpose greater things happen. It's better to walk hand and hand with the very essence of life than bend it like the Sith choose to."

Wraith pulled his hands to his sternum, and indicated inhaling. "This is filling the cup with everything negative, exhale to empty the cup. Let go of everything and just Focus on the Force itself. You'll feel it saturate you, and your rage of feeling...what I call a sphere of responsibility will expand. I call it this because if I can feel it, then I can help there immediately. My duty is to protect life, what's yours Sargon?" Try this concept, and we will talk further about our guests that are awaiting us."

 

[Sargon Vynea]

What was his duty? It was a simple question, but it expanded in nature everyday to include another responsibility it seemed. Closing his eyes Sargon felt the force around him, and breathed out slowly. With each moment he breathed out he released his emotions, and allowed his awareness to further flow with the force, to be guided by it. Even as he felt his emotional burden lighten he allowed his senses to extend. Drifting on the currents of the force, like a ship on the ocean there was no direction or plan to it. It as simply feeling for the joy of feeling.

Opening his eyes Sargon felt relaxed, and clear headed. His senses enhanced by the Force, but also guided by it. "Can you hear it, Master Wraith? Does it talk to you? I hear it all the time, its like a whisper on the wind just too far away to catch the words. When I'm quiet though, and my mind lets go I can float in it's embrace. It has something its trying to say to me, to all of us, but we don't know who to silence ourselves to hear it. I don't believe it is meant to be controlled, nor does it wish to be controlled. It just wants us to listen for a minute, to guide us into something greater then we are alone."

He'd never told anyone about his experiences with the Force, and he wasn't sure if the Jedi would tell him he was insane, or that he could hear it too. He had to tell someone in the end, and he might never get this chance again so it was worth the risk. Reaching out with his awareness he touched at @[member="Darron Wraith"]'s force presence. Not even a probing touch just an attempt to understand this man who represented all he knew of the Jedi Order.