Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction Draw the heat! (Ballistakinesis Lesson | NJO)

A small smirk touched the wilder's face though he returned his attention to the targets and the lesson at hand. It was nice to know that he still cut a gallant enough figure to make the ladies swoon, but he had to admit that the younger Von Ascania was perhaps too young for him, even with certain allowances of his mighty lifespan. "I'm happy to have been of service. Jedi or no, my goal has always been to protect others who need it."

He watched her net flurry of shots, wincing a bit as he saw where her connecting shot landed. One out of three wasn't a bad start for her use of the technique. In combat, it wasn't uncommon for even him to reach the same odds against a masterful opponent. Still, there was something in her stuttering and apologies that caused his gaze to harden. "Ruptured testicles. I can't think of a humanoid species that isn't stopped in their tracks."

Several stones rose from the back and a loud CRACK filled the air as they disappeared with simultaneous sonic booms. Red marks appeared up and down the target's body. "Split cranium. Brains scattered against the wall. He's dead before he even begins to drop. Shattered vertebrae. If he's not dead, he soon will be. Punctured lungs straight out the back. He'll spend his last few moments gasping for air that never comes. Heart pulverized. Dead in seconds. Perforated guts. He will die a slow painful death. If he's lucky the shock will knock him unconscious. Knees and elbows shattered like pottery. He'll live the rest of his life with a mechanical limp and will never again feel with real fingers."

He finally turned towards her, his eyes filled not with fury, but something akin to it. The resolute steel gaze of a soldier who had seen battle and was preparing for another. "When you use this ability, until you learn the finesse it takes to pin a tunic to a wall or aim for the knee instead of the torso, you take what you can get. I can do fancy tricks because I've been doing this for well over half a century. But when I'm in the thick of it, when lives are on the line, I aim here." Three feathers zipped away from him, restriking the lungs then one point center and just a little below them. "Because that's the largest target and gives me the biggest chance of success. This isn't a meditation. If you're here just for the knowledge and to learn something new, that's fine. But know that what you're learning is meant to kill. I've skirted the darkside perhaps closer than any jedi you've ever known and I did it not by shooting sparks, but by flinging daggers at the hearts of my enemies. Its all about your reason." His tail flicked behind him irritably and he lifted his voice, using the force to have it fill the room. This was not a lesson he felt that Corazona needed to learn alone.

"This ability by its very nature will kill someone. If that makes you uncomfortable, good. A jedi comfortable with killing is a terrible thing. If you are using this ability, I expect you or someone else has their lives in peril. You throw rocks, daggers, or whatever you've got at center mass because whatever they're doing has to be stopped and it has to be stopped now. And if you miss center mass, if you take their throat, their belly, or their groin all that matters is you've stopped the threat." His gaze kept its fierceness for only a moment longer before softening. "Try it again," far gentler than before. "Visualize a cone for the spread. Keep it in that cone."

Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania Jonyna Si Jonyna Si Ko Vuto Ko Vuto Tyrus Vastor Tyrus Vastor Diogo Talon Aadihr Lidos Aadihr Lidos Eloise Dinn Eloise Dinn Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti Valor the Forsaken Valor the Forsaken
 

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"What this rather unnessecarily graphic description is saying is that this isn't an ability you should be using, Padawans. Not until you've a proper grasp. You can hit all manner of things to avoid killing, such as just shooting say, a weapon from someone's hand. Guiding nonlethal shots to hit home. And so on."

Kahlil spoke rather firmly, glancing only briefly to the rather savage individual before looking out to the class of children and teenagers.

"Wilder you are dismissed."
 

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TAG: Aris Noble Aris Noble

Jonyna let out a sigh as she looked to Aris, slightly limping as she walked over to him and offered a smile. "I wanted to give you the chance to practice with a blaster or slugrthrower. Someday you might need it. If there's something that I've learned back in my days as a rebel, it's that relying on the same strategy again and again is an easy way for your opponent to get the jump on you. Keep yourself varied, keep your skills sharp, and you'll never be truly on the backfoot. I taught Ko Vuto Ko Vuto the same thing. He really liked throwing his saber, but...it rarely worked out for him. So I made him a staff that doubled as a blade, imbued with the Force. It kept him sharp, both metaphorically, and literally."
 
There was a part of Tyrus that enjoyed watching the green haired padawan squirm away. Maybe a bit too much for those in the room. They wouldn't understand. They hardly have a grasp on the struggles outside the temple. He sighed and tilted his shades down to look rather inquisitively on both knight and padawan. The Koruns eyes sharpened to a squint. One iris light brown and the other a sulfuric crimson. A scar from a past life. The eyes common to the sith. In the background Tyrus subtly listened to the Wilder, Vulpesen Vulpesen force assisted address to the class about the use of Ballistakinesis. Tyrus could only nod his head to himself in agreement. Ballistakinesis had the potential to maim and kill. It was dumb to deny it or say otherwise. It was a empirical fact.

He liked these two, though he didn't show it. They had the guts to show authenticity and that was a hard thing to do, especially in a place like this. Authenticity was a trait often hailed by all to strive to stay and grow in. But the reality was, life was often messy. Complex. There were little easy decisions, but there were quick ones. And authenticity in its truest form was, in the koruns experience, ever so inconvenient for others.

" Coruscant underworld police. A few I myself chose to keep in my encounters. They have all been wielded against me. At some point in time at least." He answered simply and then smirked.


"I was actually wondering if that was an intended part of your instruction - for all the shooting happening, very few appear to have taken ballistikenesis intuitively yet. Is this a means to draw out the talent like one would blindfold to develop force sense?"

Aadihr hesitated a moment, registering the aura of the instructor - he did seem to approach with intent to provide guidance, not to simply reproach the Padawan. The Miraluka tried to bridge the gap in communication, offering an opening for the tutor to put the apprentice at ease and offer what knowledge he might have sought to share. "If you have a moment, perhaps you could assist young, uh," Aadihr realized he hadn't asked the Padawan his name yet. "The youngster here in getting a more consistent shot out of his firearm?"
" Huh. You observe much for a blind man." He commented. Judging by the body language of the two and tension. Tyrus pushed his shades back and motioned to take hold of his cycler rifle. A motion that was more of a assertive command than a query. He loaded the weapon with a single round and took aim down range. " All these guns are uh, in bad shape. Even my Cycler rifle has seen better days since I got it on Tatooine. Your insight is right tho, There is a point to it. One, to prove me right on a suspicion I had. Two, to teach everyone one thing..." He trailed off and squeezed the trigger slow but consistent in till the climax of the weapon sounded with...

Nothing. The round jammed in the chamber.

" Chit happens." he growled in a rather serious tone.

"Cant always rely on the weapons and yet you must be able to adapt. Whether you have stones or bullets. The key to Ballistakinesis is your focus on the target and allowing instinct to guide you. There is no cookie cutter route for this skill. Everyone has there own style of it and grasp of how it works for them. When I took hold of the rifle, when I loaded the weapon and took aim. I see the target in my head. I feel the weapons inner mechanism. And when I pull the trigger, I make sure I pull that trigger. Just like when I wield my blade. I am the bullet and its path and guidance flow out." He cleared the jam with a few cocks of the bolt action mechanism and then set the rifle to the side.

Then his large hand motioned and parted his leather trench coat to the side. Drawing his another side arm. It was his Mandalorian Ripper. " But if you are convinced its just the weapons. Then I assure you this one is in perfect condition. Try her out. Feel the shot, dont think." Tyrus paused slightly leaving the gun on the shooting counter and glanced over his shoulder. He walked away.
Mmmm..


"What this rather unnessecarily graphic description is saying is that this isn't an ability you should be using, Padawans. Not until you've a proper grasp. You can hit all manner of things to avoid killing, such as just shooting say, a weapon from someone's hand. Guiding nonlethal shots to hit home. And so on."

Kahlil spoke rather firmly, glancing only briefly to the rather savage individual before looking out to the class of children and teenagers.

"Wilder you are dismissed."

"And there is my point one right there." he muttered under his breath along with a string of curse words in a grumble. The korun didn't bother excusing himself. He didnt need to in his mind. The large Korun found himself approaching the origin of a new voice. One that voiced a masked concern.

"What's the issue? You got a problem with a bit of real talk? You expect these kids to learn by pretending this is all sunshine and flowers?" He shrugged, glancing at the class. "Ain't like I shit where you eat, Master. Just tellin 'em the stakes. Yeah? Im sure there are more graphic reports on the HoloNews. Yeah yeah." He sauntered about the class shrugging sarcastically. " Never know when a karking star destroyer will suddenly emerge out the senate building or a Neo-Crusader raid might occur. The sith could try to kidnap some padawans." He stood to the side of Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble with a brow raised in question and mouthing the phrase.


You never know.
 
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Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x x x | Weapons: x x x | Companion: Domxite
Interacting with: Eloise Dinn Eloise Dinn

Something in her eye? Zaiya mused, canting her head to the side in query. Domxite gave a little shuffle next to her, as they had noticed it, too. However, Eloise went back to shooting at the target again, and it seemed she was okay.

"Oh, I'm not sure if I call myself an artisan as much as I like making things. Sometimes I can craft a few prototype items to help, just in case." Her wrists gave a jingle and she pointed at a few of her cuffs.

"Like I made one that has three small sensor orbs with micro repulsors to help map areas so I can get a three-dimensional holomap of it."
she explained, starting to get giddy talking about it. It was clear that the colorful Padawan was rather keen on talking high technology and anything shiny. "But instead of making them just like regular tech I like making them pretty so one can wear them all the time!"

Looking back up at Eloise, Zaiya gave a small hum, then asked, "Do you want me to look at it? Your eye I mean, if it is still bothering you. My Master has been teaching healing techniques so if you have a problem maybe I can help?" The Lovalla Padawan offered.

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"What's the issue? You got a problem with a bit of real talk? You expect these kids to learn by pretending this is all sunshine and flowers?"

"Sith love teaching through shock and awe. Speak the most gruesome they can, fill people with fear and disgust, and relish in the expressions those students will make. For a Jedi? No. This isn't real talk. You're just above bringing in a slave to use as a target dummy to show as an example. I encourage you to remember these students aren't soldiers, Knight Vastor. If a Sith were to kidnap them, it should be our job to teach them how to escape and survive.

Not how to crush people's hearts and how to make them choke on their own blood. A Jedi should strive to preserve life above all. Stun functions on blasters are a prime example of what they should be using this for."
His gaze drifted to the Ripper the Knight beside him had only just pulled out.

"Not, say, Alliance banned disruptors."
 

Diogo Talon

Guest
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TAGS: Aadihr Lidos Aadihr Lidos

Big Man was nicer than he looked. That was a relief. But it seemed like he had a flare for the dramatic. The gun jammed by accident, just when he was getting to his point? No shot! Too contrived. Still cool, though.

"Name's Diogo, by the way, " Diogo said, clapping both his hands on Aadhir's shoulders. "Anyway, hell yeah, let's see what this bad boy can do," he said as he grabbed the Mandalorian Ripper from the counter. It was heavier than the slugthrower pistol. The cool metallic handle pressing into his skin just felt right. This was how a slugthrower was supposed to feel. This was gonna be exciting.

"Not, say, Alliance banned disruptors."

Diogo overheard Tyrus Vastor Tyrus Vastor and Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble as they talked. He looked down at the disruptor in his hand. Banned, huh?

"Aahdir, I think it's your turn to shoot," Diogo said dryly, dropping the gun into the Miraluka's hands. "Let's see what you got."
 
"Oh, I'm not sure if I call myself an artisan as much as I like making things. Sometimes I can craft a few prototype items to help, just in case. Like I made one that has three small sensor orbs with micro repulsors to help map areas so I can get a three-dimensional holomap of it..."

Eloise understood about half of what Zaiya was saying. The rest was technobabble that went over her head, as incomprehensible as a foreign language. She was semi-familiar with most of the technology in common use throughout the galaxy, but only because she had used it herself; she didn't understand its inner workings and mechanics, nor did she care enough to learn more about how it worked.

"But instead of making them just like regular tech I like making them pretty so one can wear them all the time!"

"Fashion and functionality. That's cool." Eloise squeezed off a few more shots, guiding each slug's path. Say, this was pretty easy. She was a natural. Her mind was abuzz with possibilities, thinking of all the ways she could use this to her advantage—

"This ability by its very nature will kill someone. If that makes you uncomfortable, good. A Jedi comfortable with killing is a terrible thing. If you are using this ability, I expect you or someone else has their lives in peril. You throw rocks, daggers, or whatever you've got at center mass because whatever they're doing has to be stopped and it has to be stopped now. And if you miss center mass, if you take their throat, their belly, or their groin all that matters is you've stopped the threat."

The amplified voice of Vulpesen nearly made her jump, startled by its volume. Then she sighed. To be frank, her comfort level depended on who she was killing. It turns out there are a lot of viciously evil people who, by all counts, deserve to die. Take slavers, for instance. She never heard anyone moralizing over the value of their lives.

"Do you want me to look at it? Your eye I mean, if it is still bothering you. My Master has been teaching healing techniques so if you have a problem maybe I can help?"

"My master is the Chief Healer. If I needed healing, I'd do it myself." Even if she did let the other girl take a look, she would find nothing amiss. Whatever had caused her momentary lack of vision wasn't a physical malady on Eloise's part.

Her attention was once again drawn toward the instructors, looking over Zaiya's shoulder. Kahlil, the Grandmaster's husband, was arguing with Tyrus, the man who had set up this lesson. Taking the moral high ground. "Why are there so many scolds in the Jedi Order?" she muttered. Always clutching their pearls over something. For feth's sake, they were here to learn how to defend themselves from slugs. The demonstration had showed how quickly a situation could escalate, establishing the value of the lesson—and no Alliance law was going to stop their enemies from obtaining whatever lethal arsenal they could get their hands on. "You'd think they'd realize that their finger-wagging only makes things worse," she added, checking her ammo. Two more slugs left. "Nobody wants to listen to a moral lecture, especially from someone in a position of privilege."

It looked like things were getting heated. Eloise scowled at the thought that the lesson might end with Kahlil pulling the plug. Whatever—at least she had learned the art of ballistakinesis. She took aim at the target again and fired, determined to make her last two shots count.

 
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"Sith love teaching through shock and awe. Speak the most gruesome they can, fill people with fear and disgust, and relish in the expressions those students will make. For a Jedi? No. This isn't real talk. You're just above bringing in a slave to use as a target dummy to show as an example. I encourage you to remember these students aren't soldiers, Knight Vastor. If a Sith were to kidnap them, it should be our job to teach them how to escape and survive.

Not how to crush people's hearts and how to make them choke on their own blood. A Jedi should strive to preserve life above all. Stun functions on blasters are a prime example of what they should be using this for."

The korun took a long breath, removing his glareshades and moving to stand directly in front of Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble . After delicately putting the shades into a pocket in his trench coat he crossed his arms as Kahlil finished. His heterochromatic eyes flicked toward the Padawans, then back to the Master. For a moment he was silent, the room was silent, save for the faint hum of the shooting range's systems and a couple padawans doing their own thing. When he finally spoke, his voice was calmer but laced with the hardness of a man that continuously walked the edge of a blade.

Kahil and Tyrus were the same height, build, of the same "profession" and order. Heck they even shared similar backgrounds according to the tabloids. By all reason one could think that they were representing the same ideals and notions. Yet the contrast between the two men was night and day. There was a disconnect. In the Koruns eyes, the Jedi Master represented everything that the impoverished people of the undercity and underworlds across the galaxy hated. The distrust of the jedi and all they had done and not done was as real as every other threat and it was one that Tyrus had to circumnavigate daily. Everything he hated wrapped up into the imagine of a polished tomb or monument.

"First off, its Tyrus, Master, Kahlil. Appreciate the should lecture—real inspiring. But you know what they say about 'should-ing' on people? No one likes it, and it doesn't change a damn thing. You're right about one thing, though—arguing with anyone set in their ways is a waste of time. And trust me, I'm not here to waste mines. Not in here."

Tyrus remained in his position, but spoke a louder addressing the class with gesture of his hand signaling to the side of him. A large hand passed over a range of the students in the class. "These kids aren't just some monolith of tradition or Jedi idealism, despite what you seem to think. They're individuals—different experiences, different futures, different ways they'll face this galaxy. Face life and live. Some of them are gonna get their hands dirty whether you or me likes it or not. My job isn't to coddle them into you, mines or anyone else's version of a Jedi. Im here to give them tools they'll need to survive—whether it's a stun shot or, Force forbid, knowing when it's them or someone else. That is a reality that we both know and have lived." He bit his tongue to stop him from saying what he really wanted to say.

Then he nodded at Kahlil, his tone sharpening but coming back to a calm that contrasted to the eye of the storm. More suited for a one on one conversation. His next part was all for him. "And as for respect? Interrupting my class mid-lesson like this? That's not just disrespectful to me—that's disrespectful to them. You got something to say, fine. I welcome it. But you wait until after the session and approach me directly. Not Master V ( Vulpesen Vulpesen ). He jabbed a finger toward the students. " They all have the ability and will to make up their own minds on this."

And like that he leaned back, his classic smirk returning as if nothing happened at all. "But hey, thanks for the assist, Master Kahlil. Real team-building moment. More than welcome to stay. In fact, please do." With that, Tyrus pivoted swiftly enough to waft a breeze with his trench coat in the Jedi Masters direction and walked away. Back over in the direction of where he was before with Diogo Talon and Aadihr Lidos Aadihr Lidos .

But before reaching his destination he turned half way briefly pausing. "Oh and also congrats!" His hands and arms gestures to his belly as if he was pregnant. " For.... Well you know."

 

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Kahlil glanced back to Tyrus, raising a brow very slowly. He did at least lower his voice to address the man himself, not the class.

"Tyrus, I've no problem with the lessons you're teaching here. I've problems with an outsider to the Order, a known user of the Dark Side of the Force who rips souls from people's bodies, telling the children we're trusted to protect that the only choice is to take a gun and blast someone's head open. I will always preach the nonlethal choice, because that's what Jedi should strive for. That is our Order, our code."

He paused, blinking again at the motion. And chuckled. "Thanks. We're pretty happy. But the point remains. I've allowed the Wilder here to participate in helping because I figured he wouldn't start crossing lines. He did, and that is not one I will wait for after class to address. Continue your lesson, with less emphasis on the gore. We're not Sith, this is not a Sith academy. They're aware enough on what it means to take a life because they're masters have taught them as much, or their history has already exposed them to that reality. They don't need it rubbed in their faces anymore than this galaxy will already do so."

Tyrus Vastor Tyrus Vastor
 
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Outfit: Casual Attire
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike


Aadihr found the illegal disruptor dropped into his hands as soon as he learned of it's legal status. He looked into it's inner workings. It was modular, made to be customized and upgraded - already sporting a few personal touches from the officer. The energy propulsion for the slug was more robust, presumably forceful enough to penetrate energy shielding considering it's legal status as a Disruptor.

Aadihr could not pretend he didn't hear Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble 's words, but at the same time curiosity of how firing a banned weapon compared to that of one deemed legal.

Aadihr extended his arm downrange, assuming a firing position. With precise manipulations of what telekinetic force he could muster, ejected the ammunition. His brow began to sweat from effort as he disassembled the Mandalorian ripper, observing each piece as he carefully picked it apart as one would to clean or perform maintenance on the firearm - leaving an empty grip in his hand.

"Well, Diogo, what we have here is a set of parts that could be used to assemble an illegal weapon." Aadihr said in a quiet, conspiratorial tone, as if he had found some loophole to avoid repercussion for handling the weapon. "And we're simply learning how to dismantle deadly weaponry not suitable for Padawans, yes?" He continued in his hushed tone as he meticulously gathered each part of the ripper and returned it, laid out neatly and organized for re-assembly at the table where Tyrus Vastor Tyrus Vastor 's other armaments lay. "So really, we shouldn't be implicated in whatever unsavory lesson may or may not have occurred at the same time we were here, yes?"

Aadihr was reasonably sure the Padawan wouldn't get in any trouble regardless, but better for him to look shiftier about it than the lad just in cause. What started as an excuse turned into a genuine brainstorm of ideas.

"I wonder. . . if you could learn the workings of common slugthrower configurations to disable them quickly? Or perhaps silently, or at range? Perhaps. . ." Aadihr thought for a second, recalling the cycler rifle jamming in Tyrus's hands. "Perhaps we could jam the weapons like we just saw, induce a mechanical failure."

With a sudden inspired energy Aadihr picked up the shoddy slugthrower from before and slid the magazine back into place. "Diogo, look here" Aadihr pointed out the mag release lever, the safety, and the ejection chamber. "These, I think, are probably the most common points of failure for this thing. I'll fire off a few rounds - see if you can muster a little bit of force and if you can get precise enough control to disable, jam, or unload the gun as I shoot."

What started as an excuse to avoid blame turned into a study of potential defensive force maneuvering. If a Padawan could manage it without force-sight to see the inner workings, this might be worthwhile to research further.


 
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Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x x x | Weapons: x x x | Companion: Domxite
Interacting with: Eloise Dinn Eloise Dinn

Hearing Eloise repeat the motto Zaiya had worked so hard to embody, melding tech with both fashion and functionality, sent a ripple of giddy, bioluminescent shimmer across the Lovalla's skin. The medley of teal and turquoise danced like sunlight over a tranquil sea, a vibrant expression of pride and delight.

Zaiya had offered to help, of course, but Eloise had waved her off, explaining that her Master was none other than the Chief Healer. The implication was clear: Eloise had plenty of experience and could handle herself just fine.

"Oh. Okay,"
Zaiya said, rocking back on her heels awkwardly. She turned to focus on her own training targets, sneaking a glance at the other Padawan. Eloise was laser-focused on her exercises, her precision almost intimidating. Taking the hint, Zaiya decided to get back to her own drills.

She had barely completed her next sequence when a booming voice cut through the training field, rolling over them like a shockwave in the Force. Startled, Zaiya froze, her bioluminescent patterns flickering. Then her rosy-gold skin paled slightly, dove grey dapples blooming in reaction to the unexpected sound. She certainly did not want to end up killing or harming anyone. She didn't even want to cause significant injury to anyone else at all. That was why she was practicing with methods to stun, incapacitate, or knock out others.

"You'd think they'd realize that their finger-wagging only makes things worse," she added, checking her ammo. Two more slugs left. "Nobody wants to listen to a moral lecture, especially from someone in a position of privilege."

The expression on Eloise's face didn't help. Her cryptic comments about finger-wagging and moral lectures only deepened Zaiya's confusion, then concern. She hadn't heard anyone else besides the booming voice that had been enhanced by the Force since they away from others. Did Eloise have really great hearing like Aris Noble Aris Noble ?

"Huh?" Zaiya said, her voice edged with uncertainty as she turned toward Eloise. The grey dapples on her skin deepened, swirling with a hint of muted lavender as her concern grew. "What do you mean by that?"

She tilted her head in perplextion, her iridescent blue eyes narrowing slightly. It wasn't every day the Lovalla heard something so...odd. For a moment, Zaiya wondered if there was some deeper meaning behind the words, or if she was missing an obvious joke. Either way, it didn't sit right.

Zaiya jiggled a few pellets within her palm, and waited for Eloise to explain. The colors on her skin shimmered faintly, a soft kaleidoscope of pink and teal betraying her mix of curiosity and unease.

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"Huh?" Zaiya said, her voice edged with uncertainty as she turned toward Eloise. The grey dapples on her skin deepened, swirling with a hint of muted lavender as her concern grew. "What do you mean by that?"

Eloise gave Zaiya an incredulous look. She found it unbelievable that the other girl hadn't overheard the argument. Sure, they had all been forced to listen to Vulpesen—his voice had been excessively loud, amplified by the Force. But they weren't so far away from the others that they couldn't catch the conversation between Kahlil and Tyrus, were they? Well, Zaiya was clearly an alien of some kind, what with her constantly shifting skin tone. Maybe whatever species she was had poor hearing? Or maybe Eloise had superior ears.

"Didn't you hear them?" she asked, gesturing toward the two men. Tyrus had already started to walk away at that point, though he stopped and turned around to congratulate Kahlil. Eloise abruptly realized that Tyrus had been at the Lightsworn meeting—she had seen him up on the stage.

"But I'll spell it out. Everyone in here has their reasons for wanting to answer this call. Chaos knows I have mine and its with the meek living thousands of levels under the stagnation of Coruscant. The people most you don't even know exist and the surface don't care for. Call it duty, honor, ancestors, justice or zealous fervor. It don't fething matter. But everyone should know what that means too. It means giving up your very blood and vitality, sacrificing a piece of yourself. One I hope you all accept will be gone. People will die and may never see change. Everything gets a return."

And she remembered, too, why she had decided to leave that meeting despite how promising it had all seemed.

But she had come here because she saw herself in these Lightsworn. They wanted to destroy the Sith. They weren't going to hold back. These people were supposed to be on her side, and she theirs—yet they were treating those who would have been their staunchest allies like enemies. Because they didn't meet their personal standards of what a Jedi should be. As if they were anything remotely close to the Jedi ideal themselves.

She pictured herself as one of them. Trying to prove herself worthy to these clowns. Man, feth that!

"Kahlil objected to Tyrus' teaching methods," she summarized for Zaiya's sake. "Because he pointed an unloaded gun at a Padawan, and because there was apparently an illegal disruptor in the mix of weapons he brought. He called the former a spectacle, compared it to the way the Sith teach their students, and brought up Tyrus' past as a former Sith. Tyrus defended his methods by saying Padawans need to be aware of reality, lest we be thrust into a violent galaxy unprepared."

She glanced down at the empty gun in her hand, and took a moment to attach it to her belt. Feeling its weight against her hip, she felt like a gunslinger.

"Kahlil thinks Jedi should only use nonlethal takedowns. It's an old trash argument. We live in a state of constant war. Our enemies are out to kill us, not stun us. And if they can't kill us, they'll kill the ones we're supposed to protect. To think you can or should use nonlethal methods against them is absurd.

"But mainly, Vulpesen and Kahlil both went about preaching their views in a condescending way. It's annoying as hell and isn't going to change anyone's mind.
"

 
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OBJECTIVE THREE - Testing out new bling and practicing skills
Location: Set far away from other targets out in the field to ensure no one gets accidentally stunned.
Outfit:
x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x x x | Weapons: x x x | Companion: Domxite
Interacting with: Eloise Dinn Eloise Dinn

Zaiya listened quietly, her attention seemingly fixed on Eloise, but her skin betrayed the thoughts swirling in her mind. The patterns on her spots and stripes rippled and shifted, cycling through colors as she processed the other Padawan's words.

Truthfully, Zaiya hadn't been paying much attention to the others or what they were doing. She'd never been one for blasters or slugthrowers anyway. Instead, she'd used the session to focus on her stun pearls and other non lethal tools, methods that didn't rely on sheer force but could still neutralize a threat.

Eloise's gesture pulled her focus, though, and Zaiya turned her head toward the figures of Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble and Tyrus Vastor Tyrus Vastor in the distance. Curiosity sparked across her skin in citrine hues, but her furrowed brow soon darkened the bright orange into a burnished amber as she contemplated what Eloise had said.

"I see," Zaiya murmured, rocking back on her heels. She shifted her weight thoughtfully, her colors flickering with the rhythm of her internal debate. The complexity of her thoughts and the weight of her decisions were evident in the shifting hues of her skin.

"You're not wrong," she began slowly, choosing her words with care. "The galaxy's unpredictable. Chaos can spring up at any time, and yeah, battles don't exactly wait for permission slips. "

Her shoulders lifted slightly, then dropped as she exhaled. "You're right that most of the people we'll face won't have that same restraint, but that's what makes us different. We value life -- all life. If I can incapacitate someone just as effectively without ending their life, I'll choose that every time."

Zaiya's voice softened, though her patterns flared brighter for a moment, glowing with conviction. "Because once you start convincing yourself it's better to go lethal, to cut down an enemy instead of disarming them, it becomes a slippery slope. You rationalize it for one situation, then another, and another, until it's just... reflex. You stop thinking about it. You stop feeling it. And that's the moment you've lost yourself."

Her gaze flicked back to Eloise, her bioluminescent patterns glowing faintly against her now muted skin. "When you become numb to taking a life, when it doesn't matter to you anymore when you think it is foolish to even bother with nonlethal as a Jedi, that's when you've crossed the line. That's when you're no different from the Sith, or the Imperials, or anyone else who uses power as an excuse to destroy."

She let the words settle, their weight filling the space between them. In Zaiya's mind, being a Jedi meant walking a harder path, but one that is worth it, "...so, maybe it isn't so much preaching as advice forged through experience. I know that perhaps one day, I will have to go to the extreme of having to use lethal means, but I'm still considering the ramifications of it. The weight of that decision, the potential consequences, as it is something I'll end up carry with me every day."

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"You're right that most of the people we'll face won't have that same restraint, but that's what makes us different. We value life -- all life. If I can incapacitate someone just as effectively without ending their life, I'll choose that every time. Because once you start convincing yourself it's better to go lethal, to cut down an enemy instead of disarming them, it becomes a slippery slope. You rationalize it for one situation, then another, and another, until it's just... reflex. You stop thinking about it. You stop feeling it. And that's the moment you've lost yourself."

Eloise shook her head vehemently. "I don't value the lives of people who torture and consume and enslave and destroy. Their evil must be ended." Her frown deepened. "It doesn't make me the same as them, either. The slippery slope is a fallacy. What are you on about?"

"...so, maybe it isn't so much preaching as advice forged through experience. I know that perhaps one day, I will have to go to the extreme of having to use lethal means, but I'm still considering the ramifications of it. The weight of that decision, the potential consequences, as it is something I'll end up carry with me every day."

"You haven't killed anyone yet?" Eloise wasn't that surprised. Zaiya looked old enough to have seen her first battle, but the GA's wars had been inconsistent lately, with skirmishes and uprisings that seemed to peter out before they could build up the momentum required for a real war. "I fought my first battle at thirteen, alongside my parents. They launched a crusade against the slaver tribes who lived in the desert to the east of us. We killed everyone but the children." Now that was a slaughter she could never regret. The gratitude of the enslaved as they were freed, knowing that the ones who had held them in bondage were dead and gone forever...

"But you wouldn't understand that, would you?" she muttered. "You've never killed a slaver. If you ever freed a slave, you'd have their captor shipped to prison, to feed off the taxpayers for the rest of their life. Or escape and go on to enslave again." By now her expression had hardened. Her tone was adamant. "I may be numb to violence, but I'm not numb to suffering. I refuse to let the cycle continue."

 
Vulpesen rose a brow as the jedi master appeared then made some attempt o dismiss him. His back straightened and he met the jedi's gaze levelly, only his tail moving as it flicked behind him. He considered his words carefully and his clawed fingers folded patiently before him. It wasn't a moment bbefore Tyrus came to his defense, leading to a few moments of tension. Initially content to let the jedi defend him, the Shield's continued attacks only caused the Zorren's gaze to darken, especially when mistruths were sprinkled in among the accusations.

"Master Noble," he began, his voice quiet to conceal the growl that built in the back of his throat, "Either we are having a severe misunderstanding, or you are lying. I should hope that our issue lies in the former. First, never once have I suggested that the only choice in combat is to, as you put it, 'blast someone's head open.' I am the Valde of Veradune, and the Archwilder of the Vitae sect. The Code I represent in both is simple. Life. Freedom. Unity. I too will always preach taking a non-lethal option when possible. But it is not always possible. Or do you expect me to believe that should Carnifex come at you saber drawn, you'd be foolish enough to draw down on him with this?" He plucked his pistol from his belt, holding it up for the jedi to see before slamming it back into the holster. "Again and again I hear you Jedi claim you aren't soldiers. Oh, you may not have captains or privates. You may not be paid to fight. But you are warriors. No other force using institution, except the sith themselves has shown such an absolute disregard for the ways of pacifism as you Jedi. Its not a criticism, but it is the truth, or would you lie and tell me I haven't seen jedi after jedi choose to go to war with the sith, the mandalorians, or any other threat to democracy time and time again?

"Second, this is not a stun gun class. It is a ballistikinesis class. We are hear to teach them to move stones and daggers and whatever have you at supersonic speeds. When items, particularly small items, collide with a sufficiently unarmored body, damage is done. Severe damage. I will not teach a technique within your halls, or mine, or any other's without the student being completely aware of its implications. I'm not evoking this imagery without a reason, rather my reason is to your point. This ability is not to be taken lightly. It can and has taken lives. That means something. If you want to use this ability non-lethally, it takes decades of practice which we are not prepared to give in this single class. And even if we could somehow do that, real combat is not as idyllic as you suggest and you should know better, Even firing five daggers at a target's center mass, I'm often lucky if I graze them with one or two. If you wish, pick any ranged weapon in this room and try to tag me in the arms or legs with it. I'm happy to prove my point."


He stepped closer to the jedi, fury reigned in by every ounce of self control he had. This was not the first time he had spoken agianst a jedi master. Once, he'd been little more than a child. A young man with idealistic dreamy depictions of war in his head. He'd wanted to take the fight to the sith. Master Dista had dissented... Vulpesen had argued then as well. Now he was perhaps the oldest man in the room. He was a master of his own sect. But he still argued for the same reason he had back then. Because he knew what was right. "Thirdly. For the souls I've taken, I've never cared how I'd done it. The end is always tragic. But its true I learned things I'll never teach another. Hiding among the sith, surrounded by the dark, even for the best intentions leaves a mark. But for every life I've ended, I've restored a thousand more. Perhaps even a hundred thousand. Can you say the same?"

Tyrus Vastor Tyrus Vastor Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble
 

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Kahlil simply raised a hand, cutting off Vulpesen's rant before it could even start. "You've been dismissed, Wilder. You are not, nor will you ever be, welcome here to train Padawans. See yourself out, or be removed." His gaze drifted, this time to the holodevice he carried, a direct line to Valery Noble Valery Noble since Kahlil's position as part of the Jedi Council, speaking quite literally on behalf of said council, mattered little to this stranger.

The Grandmaster would have to do, then.
 
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OBJECTIVE THREE - Testing out new bling and practicing skills
Location: Set far away from other targets out in the field to ensure no one gets accidently stunned.
Outfit:
x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x x x | Weapons: x x x | Companion: Domxite
Interacting with: Eloise Dinn Eloise Dinn

As Eloise spoke, Zaiya tilted her head to the side, studying the older girl with a thoughtful intensity. Beneath her calm exterior, the Lovalla kept her mental shields firmly in place. It wasn't just to keep her empathic abilities from resonating with the powerful emotions around her but also to ensure she didn't accidentally bleed her own feelings into the area. It was a habit she'd learned early, especially when emotions ran high like now.

Eloise's passionate words struck a chord, though not one Zaiya expected. The absolutes in her arguments that some lives weren't worth valuing, especially those marred by atrocities, felt harsh and jarring. They pulled at something deeply rooted in Zaiya's core, her belief in redemption, in the Force's boundless potential for change. Her thoughts flickered to Nulgath Zardai Nulgath Zardai . He'd admitted to unforgivable acts, yet she still believed in him, in his capacity to do better.

"I don't think it's a fallacy," Zaiya said quietly, her voice steady despite the weight of the conversation. "I believe everyone deserves a chance to do better."

But before she could elaborate, Eloise cut in with a pointed remark about Zaiya's lack of experience, her never having taken a life.

The comment hit harder than Zaiya expected. Her colors dimmed instinctively, her patterns ebbing into muted tones of bronze and amber, tinged with melancholy. A slow ripple of inky stains bled into her mottled spots, the bioluminescent flecks dimming to a faint, silvery shimmer.

"Just because I haven't killed anyone doesn't mean I don't understand suffering," Zaiya said, her voice dropping to a quieter, more vulnerable tone. Her mind pulled her back to a memory she never liked revisiting, one etched into her very soul.

"I felt my parents die," she said, each word heavy, her iridescent blue eyes dimming. "During the Sith invasion of Commoner. I felt their last breaths as if they were my own -- their pain, their fear, their hope that I would survive. I felt their bond to me sever as I lay buried under the rubble that killed them."

She paused, swallowing hard, her bioluminescent streaks brightening briefly with emotion before dimming again, her hand gently rotating the pellets in the palm of her hand as if to quell the swell she felt.

"No life is without suffering," Zaiya said after a moment, her voice regaining some of its strength. "No life is free of pain, or loss, or the terrible things that threaten to break us. But that doesn't mean the cycle of violence needs to continue. I can choose to lash out, to add to the suffering, or..."

Zaiya's gaze lifted, meeting Eloise's as her colors softened, muted but no longer heavy with grief. Instead, there was a faint shimmer of hope, a ripple of gold that seemed to hum with the belief in the words she'd spoke.

"...Or I can choose life. I can choose to show mercy, not because it's easy or guaranteed, but because it sows the possibility of change. Maybe it's naive, but I believe that choice, the choice to extend a hand instead of raising a blade, can break the cycle. It can remind someone that they're capable of being better, of doing better, than what they've done before."

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Eloise had caught on to the fact that the shifting colors of Zaiya's skin were tied to her emotional state. Though she couldn't figure out the patterns, the increase in activity made it clear that she was reacting to what had been said. Zaiya's face was comparatively inexpressive, not showing much beyond eye movements, and she had closed herself off in the Force for whatever reason. Yet her tone of voice betrayed her vulnerability.

The open display of which immediately made Eloise uncomfortable. At least Braze Braze had shown a backbone, standing up to her snide remarks about his choice in holos. This chick sounded like she was on the verge of crying. Granted, they were talking about something that actually mattered, a difference in philosophy so wide it might as well have been an ocean. Yet this softness, this weakness...

"I felt my parents die. During the Sith invasion of Commoner. I felt their last breaths as if they were my own -- their pain, their fear, their hope that I would survive. I felt their bond to me sever as I lay buried under the rubble that killed them."

For feth's sake. They had literally just met. It was too early to be spilling her guts like this. "I'm sorry for your loss," Eloise said, suppressing a sigh, knowing that what she was about to say would most likely be interpreted as cruel. "If a Sith had killed my parents—" Scratch that; her mother could rot in hell. "If a Sith had killed my father, I wouldn't stop until they were dead too."

She had no real quarrel with Zaiya. Force knew she wouldn't try to impose her idea of what a Jedi should be on someone else, after all the complaining she'd done about other people doing it to her. But did expect more grit from a fellow Jedi. At least Zaiya was willing to meet Eloise's gaze with her watery eyes.

"...Or I can choose life. I can choose to show mercy, not because it's easy or guaranteed, but because it sows the possibility of change. Maybe it's naive, but I believe that choice, the choice to extend a hand instead of raising a blade, can break the cycle. It can remind someone that they're capable of being better, of doing better, than what they've done before."

"And what if they don't take your hand?" Eloise retorted. "What if they cut it off instead?" It was the more likely outcome. "You can judge me as you see fit. Call me harsh or vengeful or whatever. But we're talking about wars and atrocities here. Sith, slavers, Neo-Crusaders, Mawites—if anyone is anti-life, it's them. I don't have time to wait for their redemption arc, and neither do the people they hurt."

Again she looked past Zaiya, her attention drawn to what was happening with Vulpesen. The Wilder was a bit overbearing and talked too much, but Kahlil cut him off and told him to leave and never return. Eloise's back straightened, recalling how he had kicked her out for what happened with Braze. If he heard what she was saying now... "Maybe we shouldn't be talking about this here," she muttered.

 

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