Arkanian Lightsworn Jedi

OBJECTIVE: Prepare to face


OPPONENT(S):


PROXIMITY TAG:


DECADES PRIOR…
“Master! Where are you!” called out Padawan Kylass, running through the thick mist and struggling to catch with her blue blade the barrage of blasterfire. The burning bolts bathed the churning bands of grey and black with their super heated colors. They shrieked through the depths and screamed against the veering thrum of the Arkanian Padawan’s attempts to keep her Djem So composed.
“Master Hijikata!” she called out again, straining her silvery white eyes.
In the mist, blasterfire and artillery explosions illuminated brief silhouettes of the battle ahead. FLASH. Kylass saw a group of Maw Warriors hacking at cornered Alliance Troopers. FLASH. She saw a Jedi whirling his saber to cut down his surrounding opponents. FLASH. Kylass caught sight of a troop transport crashing into the ground and blooming into a fire ball.
FLASH. Then another flash, much closer. KABOOM. A deafening shockwave slammed behind her and picked her up off her feet. The blast threw her forward and into the mud. Kylass rolled and only stopped when she struck a corpse. Terror took her when in disorientated clawing to get back up, she locked eyes with the dead Trooper’s blank stare.
“Yuchi’ttal!” Master Zanza Hijikata’s voice cut through the blasterfire, and mercifully, through the young Padawan’s fear. “You have to get up! You have to go!”
Kylass shot up, trying to stand, but tripped attempting to step over the corpse. Crawling and then stumbling upwards she kept rushing forward. She reignited her saber and swiped away more obstructing blastfire that poured out of the mists. FLASH. Another silhouette was illuminated by burning carnage. It was her Master! She could recognize her twin yellow blades.
“The Force Yuchi’ttal! Let the Force guide you!” her Atrisian Master called out.
The illumination dimmed. Her master vanished again.
“Master, wait! I can’t see you! I need you!” Kylass desperately called out.
“You don’t. The Force is with you! You have to wake up Yuchi’ttal,” said Zanza’s dimming voice. “You have to go now!”
“WAKE UP YUCHI’TALL!”
…PRESENT…
The flesh awoke before Kylass’ consciousness could. Every nerve, sinew, and muscle howled through her in a bubbling torment that surged up from her guts, into her throat and compelled her to jolt awake. Kylass convulsed abruptly, shot up from her limp repose and maddeningly swiped at her armor’s face plate. Her shaking fingers trying to get ahead of the surging sensation threatening the back of her throat. She finally pressed the release locks on the face plate and with one talon grip, ripped it from her face and threw it away.
Then she threw up. She heaved everything out of her body as it finally remembered the trauma that ravaged it before the merciful quiet of unconsciousness. Everything splattered out of her, bile, blood, phlegm and mucus. Kylass choked on her own puke and then gagged from the onrushing frigid air she swallowed in panting gulps. The ferrous taste of blood sloshed in her mouth and dripped down her lips. Gingerly, Kylass felt her face. Her nose, lips, chin, and jaws were slick and entirely drenched in blood, still streaming from her nostrils and split lips. Kylass dropped her searching hand back down and brought it with the other to prop herself up.
The world spun in swirling shadows and blurring shapes. Sounds were muffled into myriad pitched of drones and hums, smothered by a single note, whining in a high shrill in her ears. She could feel the stim and bacta auto-injectors piercing her flesh over and over, trying to stabilize what Kylass's Templar-Class Armor’s biosensors were damage-reporting. The senses slowly came back. First came the feeling, which was nothing but rupturing pain and biting cold. Then taste and sound, bringing the flavors of burning bile and sour metallic blood, and the rhythmic booms and cries of battle. Finally her thoughts stopped spinning and the Force pooled back between them to reforge some resemblance of recognized reality.
Kylass turned her head to the side and saw the hulking carcass of the AT-AT she had been astride. Its carrier compartment was blown wide open. Armored plating peeled around the gaping wound on its side like a shrapnel rose’s petals. Black pillars of smoke rose and raging fires churning lapping bright orange flames. The front legs were a gnarled mess of shattered limbs and a vast debris field of personnel and machinery was sprayed out in a sea of unrecognizable ruins. Above the destruction, artillery still exploded in balls of fire and the dark shades of AT-ATs lumbered forward, stepping onto and over the dead and dying. It was all too much. Too much stimulus for her rattled mind. She could not rely on her senses to devise a course of action. So she decided to let the Force tell her.
Kylass turned one of her hands over and pressed her palm into the snow and earth. With the help of the meditation circlet crowned in the armored coif over her head, she tried to quiet her mind to let the Force in. The reach of the Force seeped from her and permeated into the ravaged environs around her. Like an echolocation beacon, it flickered waves in the Force that traversed over wreckage, corpse, and nature.
Every object washed over, outlined and traced its place to Kylass, and informed her on its condition. Slowly, but surely, the Force illustrated everything that was around and happening near her. In the unfolding battlemind, Kylass caught the lingering signature of her lightsaber. Then she felt the darkness, the Dark Wielder (


Kylass grimaced and spat a wad out of her bloody lips. She needed to move. She was in no state to handle either of them. She needed her saber. Kylass summoned her strength to stand up but just as she put weight on one of her planting legs, it gave way and an immense pain streamed through her. It took all of Kylass’ will not to howl. Ripped from her Force meditation she looked down at her legs. They were pointing the wrong way. Her left leg was mangled and her right foot was grotesquely bent at the ankle. Kylass shuddered at what she was seeing, her legs were broken. She couldn't move!
She whirled her head around and looked to see if her saber was within her reach. Luckily it was within her grasp in the Force. Keeping the hand that pressed its palm against the snow stationary, she flung out her other hand and pulled the saber to her with a yank of the Force. Now she waited. Who would reach her first? No matter who, she would be ready for them - as the Force she had sent out to map the carnage around her, began to change into a commanding hold. Kylass began to turn that hold on all the surrounding debris into a preparing blast of ballistakinesis. But first she waited…and let the Force decide her fate.