Fun for the Whole Gang[Ask for Invite]

[Moroi Wareyasui]

Moroi was quite the conundrum. The boy absolutely hated flying in spacecraft, absolutely detested it, yet he still seemed to be taking each and every opportunity. He took the first chance he had to head to Tatooine and train under a man named Krest as a sort of Republic/Confederacy peace gesture and whenever he returned, he was heading to Ilum to create his very own, personal lightsaber. Moroi wasn't sure which of the two he was looking forward to more as he stepped out of the dock in Mos Eisley and in to the city proper. Moroi idly fondled the temporary lightsaber he had been loaned for the duration of his stay here on Tatooine as he contemplated his options. Moroi was always a man of action, throughout his life that usually manifested as mental stimulation, which is something constructing his own personal lightsaber would surely provide, but the thought of training under a renowned lightsaber specialist was something Moroi was terribly eager to partake in. He was cautioned against taking any philosophical advice during his stay here, but he wasn't planning to anyway, his thoughts were only on the physical training. Of course, Moroi did not like, at all, the temporary saber he was given. It felt awkward and green was definitely not his color.

A fact further evidenced by the boy's startlingly lacking sense of direction. It was never really a strength of Moroi, but Tatooine was a completely different animal than what he was used to. Everything, all around him, was a sandy yellow. He had no idea how anyone ever knew where they were when everything was a constantly stream of grainy sand. Moroi, having arrived in the city in the evening, spent the better part of that evening and well in to the night searching in vain for where he was supposed to go, quietly cursing his inadequacy. As night fell, the heat subsided however which, while not completely erasing his distress, eased it somewhat. Moroi planned to give up, find lodging and look for the man named Krest tomorrow when he could continue seeing the waves of yellow when a blaster shot rang out through the mostly empty streets. Moroi didn't give the thought any time to process before immediately taking off toward the sound. Arriving at the scene midst a series of shrieks and wails, Moroi saw the crime in action. There was a man dead on a floor, a Twi'lek, adorned in patterned clothing that looked almost like a cheap knock off of a uniform and sitting next to him, huddled against the wall and sobbing uncontrollably, was a human woman. Standing over them were three mean with similar, yet notably different "uniforms" all hovering over the woman, all leveling their weapons. Moroi, his reaction betraying his rather green status as a Jedi, reacted before he finished assessing the situation and in a flash was next to the closest assailant. This however, was his element. He wasn't good at feeling people through the force, a source of pretty frequent disappointment for his master, he wasn't good at moving objects, he wasn't good at the mysticism, but Moroi was very good at using the force to turn himself in to quite the weapon. The burst of speed hurtled him toward the closest assailant and, with a grace and precision that was beyond his experience, quickly lashed out at the arm holding the blaster. Moroi artfully grazed his arm with his lightsaber, the crackling energy resonating through the alley and lacerating and cauterizing straight through the tendon in his arm. The blaster immediately fell harmlessly to the ground and the man shrieked in pain, doubling over and fleeing the area with the debilitating wound. Something the Jedi had instilled in him however, was to not kill unless it was absolutely necessary and Moroi was taking that to heart. The remaining two aggressors leveled their weapons at Moroi and he was quickly on the move again. Skillfully deflecting their shots as he darted through the street. Moroi got inside the second criminals reach, his offhand quickly shooting out to grab the wrist holding the blaster and yanking it forward, pulling the man toward him as Moroi's armed hand quickly shot forward, ramming the butt of his lightsaber straight in to the man's throat, rending him unconscious quickly.

The last criminal turned tail and ran right there, and the wise decision would have been to let him go and tend to the girl...Moroi wasn't being especially wise today, unfortunately. The boy took after the man, chasing him through the streets...and right back in to the rest of his gang. Skidding to a half, Moroi found himself staring down twenty odd blasters, all leveled at his face. Gulping in trepidation, blaster fire rang through the street as Moroi beat a quick retreat, desperately deflecting the shots he had to as he raced for cover, frantically looking around for something to ease off the pressure of blaster fire. Thankfully, he had multiple years as a thief to fall back on. As laser fire rang around his ears, Moroi quickly leapt toward the nearby building, catching the window sill with his fingers and dragging himself up, quickly scaling the side of the building and dashing on to the roof and lying down flat, cutting off the angle for the shots as he watched them sail over his head and smack against the building, hoping against hope that they'd just run out of ammunition.

"If I get out of this...Master's patience lecture will be unbearable."

@[member="Krest"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

After the recent terrorist attack on Mos Esley gang activity was on the rise. The broken parts of the city were battlegrounds for gangs thirsting for control of the underground network, causing thousands of credits of damage to the civilians who had already lost their homes in the attack. This thought annoyed Krest to an extreme. Too many things happening on the planet he was sworn to protect. He was tracking one specific group today. Rotworms. Not exactly original..



Krest stayed atop a building as the gang grouped together below. There he loaded his crossbow with high explosive boom quarrels. He was going to end the group quick, but not so quiet. There was no forgiveness for the group from the Zabrak. Not today.



But there was a surprise. Something he didn't expect. A boy. @[member="Moroi Wareyasui"] running right into the group, only to find himself being shot at. The Zabrak only watched dumbfounded as the boy climbed his way up the side of a building, scaling it at a fairly impressive speed. He sat there as the boy landed beside him, laser fire burning through his once secret hideout.


"You know, there are much better ways to do this. Like not running right into the group." His voice was calm. He fiddled with his crossbow some more, being sure the quarrel was in right. "Got a reason you're attacking these people?" The Zabrak wore his signature Templar armor, his hood down over most of his face. The red and black skin of his was still visible, but it would be hard to distinguish who he was.

 

[Moroi Wareyasui]

Moroi assumed there would be another lecture on spatial awareness when(if) he managed to make it back to the Jedi temple, as he was completely oblivious to @[member="Krest"] and his presence on the roof....right next to him. In Moroi's defense his attention was more on the blasters aimed at his skull rather than the immediate surroundings, which might not really be a good defense, but he was sticking with it. It wasn't until the man spoke that the boy knew the man was next time him, the boy's wide and alert eyes shifting over to the sound of the voice, even in that situation holding that bright light of curiosity that defined the young Jedi. Of course, the words he did speak were somewhat irritating and Moroi's face reflexively curled in to a small sneer.

"It wasn't like I wan..."

Another blaster shot crashed in the building near his ear, eliciting a slightly panicked groan as Moroi jerked his head a little to the right and deftly swinging his lightsaber up and in a small arc, the blaster shot bouncing off the beam of light and ricocheting back down in to the group, hitting one of the assailants in the forearm. It was bad enough that he was stuck in this situation, it was worse that he had commentary at the same time. Letting out a soft sigh as the blaster fire slowed down, one of them getting wounded by the errant shot apparently giving them pause and giving Moroi enough time for a snappy retort.

"Because they were attacking a woman, got a reason to be bothering me while they're attacking me?"

 

[Darth Ferus]

Krest pulls back on his crossbow, letting the quarrel finally click into place. He doesn't so much as look over the edge before aiming the weapon and firing. He shoots off four of the BANG quarrels before pulling his hand back down, grunting. Down below four explosions erupt, followed by screaming. BANG quarrels tended to be effective, though Krest was pretty sure none of them hit where he wanted.

"I've been hunting these guys. You're interference cost me surprise." @[member="Moroi Wareyasui"] got a frown in his direction before the Templar shoot off to the side of the building. The laser fire suppressing them was gone for the moment, but it wouldn't take long for it to pick back up. Krest jumped from the roof, his figured a blur of white as he landed on another building, firing off another quarrel. The group of gangsters were broken up after the initial shot, several damaged from shrapnel. However, none were damaged from the initial four BANG quarrels. Krest clicked his tongue, as the fifth shot blasted out of the end of his crossbow.

The bolt slammed into the center of the dispersing group, causing four of the helpless members to go flying. But it didn't harm any of them, and in fact only gave Krest away. Krest blinked for a moment, on the edge of his current building. Laser fire erupts, all of the able body gangsters shooting at the Zabrak. Krest turned and ran, leaping from building to building, his figure still a blur. His crossbow was left on the initial building, still loaded with five more quarrels.

But at this point in time it didn't matter. His hand shot down to the hilt of his blade, Deus, as he landed finally on the ground. One of the gangsters, a Twi'liek, happened to be right in front of where he landed, already pulling his blaster level with the Zabrak's head. There was a flash of purple, followed by a thud. Krest held his blade in his hand, the purple flame of it burning into the dark area. The remaining gangsters stood dumbfounded as their ally seemed to fall apart in three pieces.

"I.. W.. What.." "I dunno! He was gonna slot the karking thing!" "Oh that's the karking Warden!" "Krest!? Slot him! Slot him now!" Blaster fire erupted again, only they were firing at nothing. With their hesitation Krest took off, his form a blur of purple and white. The warden lept his way across the area, his blade a flash of purple as he deflected the small arm fire.

The gangsters weren't military trained, simple goons who figured if they picked up a blaster they'd rule the area. This proved false as the Warden's figure lept through their numbers, mercilessly cutting them down. But they still had numbers, and Krest was shortly pushed into a corner, hiding behind it as more blaster fire shredded his cover.

Well. That mostly worked.

 

[Moroi Wareyasui]

"Maybe if you moved quicker you'd still have surprise..."

Moroi's muttered words followed after the painful noise pulsed through the area, one after the other as Moroi quickly retracted his lightsaber and covered his ears. He doubted the Zabrak even heard him given the noise and the fact that he was already on the move once again, firing one of those accursed charges down in to the clearing of bad guys, hopefully actually hitting with that one. The man didn't stay there long after firing his first actually accurate shot and quickly tore off as the criminals leveled their weapons at him, Moroi silently thanking The Force for taking the pressure off of him as his eyes scanned the weapon the Zabrak left behind in his mad dash to escape fire. Moroi, leopard crawling across the roof, got to the weapon and tried to pick it up and steady his aim, ideally to help the person who wasn't trying to kill him five seconds prior, but his diminutive stature and general lack of talent with projectile weapons was something of a burden, failing to properly line up his shot, sending one of the quarrels way off target just as one of the gang members spoke a name that he had spent the better part of the day trying to track down.

"@[member="Krest"]...wasn't that the..."

Before he could finish the thought, the quarrel smacked in to a nearby building, causing absolutely no damage to anyone but, dragging the attention of some of the criminals pulling up the rear as they attempted to encircle Krest. Moroi, thoroughly fed up with the crossbow, annoyedly raised it above his head and threw it down at the nearest enemy, smacking him squarely in the head and removing him of that pesky consciousness. Hopefully the crossbow was well made enough to survive a little gravity and a, most likely, hard skull. Before anyone could react to the projectile crossbow, Moroi had already torn off from the roof, flying off the edge before catching on a balcony ledge, pressing his feet against the hard surface and holding on to the ledge with his hands before kicking off again, catapulting himself in to the forming circle. Moroi landed and quickly delivered a sharp kick to the outside of an enemy's knee, causing his leg to buckle and his blaster fire to harmlessly careen in to the air. Using his leg as a springboard, Moroi swung his leg up in to a roundhouse, catching the next opponent square in the throat and dropping him instantly before returning to the first opponent trying to whip his blaster around at him. Moroi, resetting his kicking leg, slid his base leg back and inbetween his opponent's as his arm swept around, striking the man's wrist and knocking the weapon away. Rotating his core, Moroi hooked his leg behind his opponent's and spun his shoulder under his enemy's, using his arm as a lever to throw the man hard in to the ground. The action had left him vulnerable though, too vulnerable to behave as he wanted to, and as they reacted to him, a blaster shot was aimed straight at Moroi's back, forcing him to react, slightly frantically, to ignite his lightsaber and deflect it. Unfortunately, it prevented him from properly aiming the deflection and the blaster bolt was sent back at the man, striking him in the chest, killing him. As more weapons leveled at Moroi, the boy darted to the side, rolling behind a nearby building and in to cover, silently cursing his own weakness at being forced to kill him. Hopefully, at least, he managed to provide enough of a distraction to take the pressure off of Krest.

 

[Darth Ferus]

Krest held Deus in his grasp, sticking away from the corner. For now he had to wait. Hopefully the boy @[member="Moroi Wareyasui"] would follow him in, and maybe even distract the remaining people. His hunch turned out to be true, and the gangsters turned their fire on the padawan. The Zabrak wasted no time as soon as the fire ceased on his cover, bursting around the corner with Deus held to the side. He lept into the fray, directly at another of the Gangsters. The Cathar stood no chance as the flame engulfed blade tore through him. No armor, no resistance, almost as if it was a knife through butter.

Krest continued with his Ataru form, cartwheeling to the side as one of the gang members saw his attack. He threw Deus outwards, the blade seeming to split the air before it landed in the chest of the one shooting at him. The man was thrown back from the force of the impact, but the blade didn't go with him. Instead Krest called it back, running through the group.

His sword was not a lightsaber. It did not cauterize the wounds it made, instead leaving them open. Any cut he made was enough to bring a man down from sheer blood loss alone. The Zabrak used this to his advantage, bursting towards his next target. With the lack of training and the confusion of two force users the gang was in disarray. Krest removed his victims arm as it swung to point his blaster towards him. There was no scream, the man didn't have enough time to do so before Deus found it's way through his throat.

The remaining gangsters wanted no more of this. No more of death. So they ran. They turned tail and left the area, going back to their home base. Krest let out a sigh, flicking the edge of his blade before sheathing it all in one motion. He opened up a comlink, calling out to his enforcers. "Found a group. They're running back to their home base hopefully, keep on them."

"You got it." Krest lets his hands drop, sighing. "Well, I'm not sure if I should thank you or not kid. You gonna come out?"

 

[Moroi Wareyasui]

The sounds of their retreating footsteps were pleasant to the boy, who had not been actively fired at for a good two years now and was rather eager to stop being shot at. @[member="Krest"]'s voice followed as Moroi struggled to regain his breathe and bring himself back to his feet. Tentatively coming out from around the corner of the building, his lightsaber still fully prepared for more combat, Moroi's eyes scanned the scene around him...and he was not prepared for what he saw. The only gang members still alive were the two he incapacitated, one of which was writhing on the floor in pain but still very much alive. The others were not so lucky. All through the street the bodies were littered, blood coating the area like a sloppily applied layer of paint. Limbs were dismembered, heads were alleviated of their shoulders and Moroi's eyes ended their scan on the blade held in Krest's hand, blood dripping from the edge. The man had killed all of them. At first, righteous and admittedly ego-centric outrage flared within him and his fingers tightly gripped the hilt of his lightsaber. These men did not need to be killed, they could have incapacitated them, stopped them from being able to fight, that was all they needed to do. Before he acted or spoke on those feelings though, for once, he afforded himself some time for reflection. Whether it was because he was sent to meet this man that gave him pause or maybe it was because the lack of pause almost got him killed, Moroi still calmed down enough to reason things through. The Jedi were not against killing and murder, they never have been. Destroying a threat, even as a last resort, was still the Jedi modus operandi. Who was he to judge Krest? As that thought crossed his mind, his eyes slid down to the gang member that Krest did not kill, the one with a blaster hole in his chest. He was not innocent of the killing either.

"Moroi, not kid. And you vaping should, what kind of idiot runs headlong in to that many blasters anyway?"

He already had the Jedi hypocrisy down to a science. His lightsaber blade retracted in to its hilt as Moroi's body relaxed slightly, his eyes returning to the Zabrak. Moroi was still not fond of how the situation played out nor of Krest's involvement in it. If he was stronger, they wouldn't have had to die, and he cursed that weakness, but there was still something amazing to behold about the segments he saw of Krest's movements. He recognized it as Ataru, the fourth of the seven forms, but there was a certain elegance to it that Moroi simply could not pick up for holo-discs. If he wanted that strength, the strength to not have to slaughter what stood in his path and still not be slaughtered by it, perhaps it was wise to send him here after all.

 

[Darth Ferus]

Krest himself was surprisingly free of blood. His form from head to toe was spotless, free of any red stain. The area, the torn bodies. None of it affected the Zabrak as he walked his way over to @[member="Moroi Wareyasui"]. When you're raised on the Warrior culture of Iridonians, these situations are often what gets you recognized as some of the strongest warriors.

"The kind of idiot who assumes another with a saber will assist. As you did. You're not Templar are you?" He only asked sense the boy wasn't wearing the normal Templar armor. Then it hit him Moroi, the boy the Jedi sent to learn from the Templars.

"Ooh. you're the padawan the Jedi sent aren't you. Here to learn from a Templar about the ways of the force, but not the philosophy of the Templars. Seems a bit close minded in my opinion. You should always have your mind open to new things." The Zabrak stood in front of Moroi, tilting his head. He was strong at least. Fearless enough to chase down a man who had threatened death to a civilian. But he wasn't going to kill him was he. Krest looked at the two who weren't dead, simply shaking his head. "Why did you leave them alive? Their crimes are worthy of death and then some. Killing, stealing, raping. None of them were innocent. So why only knock them out?"

It was Krest's version of a test. He was going to challenge the boys beliefs. Push them to the limit and see if he held true to his ideals. If he could, Krest would teach him what ever he wanted. If he couldn't.. Krest would teach him Ataru and kick him back to the Republic with a message to get their padawans to believe their code before setting them out in the world.

 

[Moroi Wareyasui]

"Jedi respect life, any form. Guilty life is still life."

He could parrot the Jedi code, but those weren't his true feelings. It wasn't that he disagreed with the message of the code, he believed in it. He was not these mens' executioner, he was, at his core, a highly sophisticated and well trained police officer and it was not a police officer's job to pass verdict on whether or not someone was guilty and he was only supposed to utilize deadly force when no other option was available and, as was evidenced by their incapacitation, deadly force was not the only option available. He was surprised the man knew that the Jedi cautioned him against paying too much head to beliefs that deviated from his code, he imagined that was not the sort of thing they would share when discussing his training. "We're sending this boy to you, but don't tell him stuff" didn't sound like a good way to broker a deal, so that meant that the Jedi either had a reputation or the Zabrak was better at reading emotions than Moroi would have assumed...or Moroi was worse at hiding them than he believed. Regardless, he was sure the Zabrak would sense the hesitation in his words. Beneath the code of the Jedi, Moroi held a far more pragmatic, if a bit arrogant belief system and before @[member="Krest"] would have a chance to interrupt him, Moroi quickly revealed it.

"You only fight when you are not smart enough to win without fighting and you only kill when you're not strong enough to win without killing. Fighting and killing are both wastes of resources and if you are smart and strong enough to win without wasting those resources, everyone is better for it. Even if you believe these men incapable of atonement or redemption, killing them completely snuffs out that possibility. They aren't useful as corpses, they might be as people. I'd like to be smart enough to win without fighting and strong enough to win without killing."

There was a healthy amount of defiance in the boy's voice and even more defiance in his eyes, the eyes targeted straight at the Zabraks and focused with laser like precision. Moroi was aware that he, indirectly, just called the Zabrak weak and he also knew if he took offense that he was very likely dead, but if the man wanted someone who didn't believe in his convictions, he took on the wrong exchange student.

 

[Darth Ferus]

Krest rubbed his chin slowly, glancing @[member="Moroi Wareyasui"] over. It was an odd code he had, but it was still a code. Krest took no offence to it, in fact it made him only smile. Such a nice way of thinking. A way that if the galaxy was truly able to run in such a way it would be a better place. But it doesn't work. Not now. Not yet. So he only looked behind him, motioning to the dead bodies. On this planet he was the Warden. Tasked with protecting the people from any and all threats. Between the recent terrorist attack and the Kryat Dragon capturing wasn't an option. Not yet.

"War. You let your enemies live in war and they will turn on you. They will kill you. Kill others. It wasn't about redeeming them or punishing them. It was about ending the war here. Those that ran have lead the arm to their base. At this point in time they've all been captured, awaiting their trial. Sometimes the dumbest move is not to fight. And sometimes the weakest option is to allow a foe to survive. I've learned you have to be able to make the hard decisions for the greater good. If you can't, well, that's just you being selfish. You wanting to be just and righteous at the cost of countless lives you could of saved if you only killed or fought."

Tempting logic. Krest learned this recently. Very recently. It cost him friendships to learn. Cost him lives, more then he thought imaginable. But it was a lesson he learned regardless. But should the boy keep true to his own, he won't push this conversation further. Who know's, Moroi's conviction may be enough to push Krest back to want to save everyone. Only time could tell.

 

[Moroi Wareyasui]

His words most likely had the inverse effect to what he wanted. Instead of some epiphany, Moroi's eyes only grew more defiant. Perhaps it was the exuberance of youth and inexperience, or maybe he just believed he was right that strongly, but while he processed and understood the words his potential teacher spoke, he did not adhere to the mentality, especially since it seemed that @[member="Krest"] had not quite grasped what Moroi meant. Moroi did not advocate pacifism, he did not prohibit himself from fighting or even killing if he was forced to, the altercation they just had was evidence of that. He knew his beliefs were odd and that not many people agree with him, he wasn't even sure why he was so vehemently and defiantly sticking to his argument, an argument he had never bothered to present to the Jedi masters through all their philosophical lectures and lessons. Perhaps it was the field of slain murderers, thieves and rapists that brought his tension to the boiling point.

"I never said I refused to fight or even to kill, if I have to fight it was because I was not smart enough to win without fighting and if I have to kill, it means I wasn't strong enough to win without killing. If you have to fight to protect what is important to you then you have to fight, but only because you were too dumb to protect without fighting and if you have to kill to defeat your opponent then you have to kill, but it's only because you were too weak to defeat them without killing them. I will not choose to be dumb and weak unless I have to."

Anger was not a very Jedi-like trait, but Moroi could not help it. Littered around him were people he did not believe needed to be slain. He was not blind, he knew this man was strong enough to incapacitate this rabble of untrained brutes without killing them, he could tell he was strong enough to snuff out Moroi himself probably without much trouble. This carnage was not necessary. He had a choice and he chose the easy path, the quick path...not the right path. That angered Moroi.

 

[Darth Ferus]

Krest only blinked at his outburst. It wasn't something he expected, especially from a Jedi. Even if he was a padawan, Krest had assumed all Jedi were master of their emotion. But the boy spoke true, and it caused the Zabrak to smile. Here was someone of a good mindset. One he had not to long ago. Before that one mission.. Krest quickly shook his head to clear his thoughts before moving up in front of the boy. He used the force to speed his movements, closing the distance in a flash. He bent so he was eye to eye with @[member="Moroi Wareyasui"], his deep blue eyes almost penetrating.

"You stick yo your convictions well. Good. If you were easily swayed I would of kicked you off planet after teaching you really nothing useful about Ataru." The Templar turns suddenly, waving a hand at the dead bodies. "These men attacked and blew up a base. One of my bases. I lost people, good people. I took satisfaction on ending them, and I won't lie about it." That was the difference between Jedi and Tempalrs. Jedi didn't have to control themselves. Krest took revenge, and he wasn't going to get punish. Wasn't in the wrong in the eyes of his Masters.

He waved Moroi to follow, stepping away from the bloody scene. Now was the time to teach the boy, not argue. At least, not for the moment.

 

[Moroi Wareyasui]

Moroi could barely follow him, it was a movement that both frightened and excited him simultaneously. He was fast, way faster than Moroi, as fast as what Moroi wanted to accomplish. Of course, even if the man held no hostile intentions, sensing such a thing was exactly what Moroi was weak at, horribly weak. Even if he made no effort to hide any killing intent, Moroi would have been blissfully ignorant to it. Moroi did however, have a sneaking suspicion that his outburst could provoke violence at any opportunity. The Jedi, erroneously or not, seemed to paint the dark side as a slippery slope to rabid murder and while he doubted the Jedi would send him to study under a...well...rabid murderer, the man had just killed people in the double digits without batting an eye. Moroi's body tensed, his breath caught in his throat, but he was not completely removed from his senses, no matter how stiff with trepidation he was. Moroi's left hand had darted down to his side and angled the front of his lightsaber up, pointing the unignited tip at where his opponent's abdomen would be. He had no hope of being fast enough to block an attack if the man wanted to do him harm, he would simply be dead, but hopefully he could take a bit with him.

Thankfully, @[member="Krest"] was only, successfully, shooting for intimidation and perhaps curiosity with his movements. After his short speech, the man quickly turned and stalked off, motioning for Moroi to follow. It took the boys nerves a few moments to settle down and for feelings to return to his limbs, a small bead of sweat tracing down his brow as he tentatively let his lightsaber go, letting it drop back down to his hip as his eyes remained trained on Krest's back. Even if he wasn't incredibly intrigued and eager to learn, he was given a mission to learn what he could. The boy took a deep breath, his eyes scanning around the carnage around him. He figured Krest would have whatever men he was talking to come by and pick up the two wounded criminals here...or put them on "Trial" like he claimed to have done with the ones at the base. Moroi didn't necessarily believe him, his actions were not those of someone who places criminals on trial, but Moroi could do nothing for them and they were not relevant to his mission. One more deep breath and Moroi's feet kicked off the ground, hurriedly chasing after the Zabrak.

 

[Darth Ferus]

Krest was an Iridonian at heart, something he tried to suppress. The gang members would have a trial, and the two still passed out behind him would in fact be unharmed, put on trial, and sentenced. But the city was under constant surveillance, so any defense of theirs would probably end up beaten. But they no longer mattered. None of it mattered, only the teaching. They passed through the recovering city, and it ended up showing there was more to the CIS on Tatooine then a massacre.

The soldiers under Krest's command where wandering throughout the city, giving supplies to the homeless and broken. Krest himself stopped to help feed a couple of children, a smile on his face. He completely ignored the fact that @[member="Moroi Wareyasui"] was there, and went about at his own leisure, helping the people he was sworn to protect. Eventually they would end up outside the city itself, going into the desert itself. He nears a canyon just outside of Mos Esley, pointing down it.

"Ahead is a canyon filled with traps along it's base. There are little to no ledges to leap on, but the only way through is to do so. To understand the basics of Ataru I want you to pass through this canyon. I'll be on the otherside." If only to show this wasn't a death trap Krest lept through the canyon, quickly disappearing from view. He would wait at the end, curious on if the boy was even able to make it halfway.

 

[Moroi Wareyasui]

Moroi followed @[member="Krest"], silently, as they went through a philanthropic adventure through the less...bloody parts of the city. Moroi was unsure if this behavior was for his benefit, an attempt to convince him that Krest was not a heartless murderer, or perhaps he simply did care about his people enough to do what he could to assist them. Surprisingly, Moroi almost hoped it was the former. If he was putting on a show, Moroi could rationalize it as simply self-serving behavior, an attempt to not have Moroi return home with an unfavorable report of their allies or perhaps he just wanted to prove to himself as well as Moroi that he was not wrong in his decisions. If it was the latter, then it indicated a very, very considerable level of arrogance. If he was the warden, the man in charge of protecting every charge in her care, then that responsibility did not stop at the homeless and the needy. It was his duty to protect the very same people he left in a bloody heap a ten minute walk backwards. No one was innocent, how could he justify one being more worthy of protection than the other? Even if he was protecting them from themselves? However, Moroi and Krest did share a similar thought, their previous argument was just that, previous. What mattered now was what he was sent here to do, what he was sent here to learn. So he stayed silent, kept his equally arrogant and self-righteous beliefs of right and wrong to himself and simply followed, waiting until he was given direction.

He did not have to wait much longer before Moroi was given his...rather daunting task. Before he could protest the ridiculous nature of his instructor's task, the Zabrak had already torn off, artfully jumping from sparse ledge to sparse ledge and through the canyon and forcing an exasperated sigh from Moroi. Part of him was beginning to regret this adventure. He was once already forced to kill a man, injure two others and now he was doing something that could very well get him killed. He was still doing it, of course. Moroi was far too stubborn to quit now after all the stress he had endured already. They boy's eyes scanned the ledges around him, silently mapping out his route. Just like he would before he joined the Jedi and plotting to break in to high security buildings. This was the same thing, except he was maybe less likely to be shot at. He would assume he wasn't going to get shot at, but none of his assumptions had paid off today. He figured it best he just stop assuming things.

"Ok...you can do this Moroi...just like back home."

Unfortunately, it wasn't just like back home. As Moroi leaped from the canyon cliff and toward one of the ledges, artfully cushioning his fall against the wall and holding his body weight to the surface, he noticed a rather stark difference between the canyon walls and the building walls. One was built and built to not crumble, one not so much. Moroi felt small particles of sand and dirt crumbling away under the weight of his arms and fingers. An anxious gulp escaped his throat, trying desperately to keep the ledge from collapsing. Moroi decided he'd have to rely on speed to prevent the crumbling and quickly kicked off the wall, dropping down a few feet to the next ledge...the next ledge was less accommodating. The loose surface crumbled under his hands and the boy plummeted, crashing down amidst soot and soil. Moroi desperately tried to clear his mind, panicked flailing would not save him. Acting quickly...and debatably stupidly, Moroi quickly ripped his Jedi robes from his chest while pulling his saber from his belt. Igniting the weapon, Moroi burned off the hem of the cloth, billowing the cloth out in to a long strand, a long stand he quickly began tying around the hilt of his lightsaber. His eyes quickly scanned for the nearest ledge and located it not a moment too soon. Moroi quickly thrust the lightsaber deep in to the canyon wall before letting go of the lightsaber, instead tightly gripping the cloth. Closing his eyes, Moroi softly counted in his mind, softly counted the time it would take until the cloth in his hand was no longer loose. Just before the cloth would reach its limit, Moroi forced his legs together and violently kicked them back. As the cloth caught on the lightsaber buried in the canyon, Moroi kicked his legs forward. The snapping motion jettisoning him along the cliff face and landing him rather inelegantly on to a more sturdy ledge. Moroi quickly snapped the cloth in his hand back toward him, ripping the lightsaber out of the canyon and forcing it back to him, Moroi deftly catching it in his hand and deactivating the blade.

After brush with death number three, Moroi took a moment to catch his breath and plot out his second course of attack. He could not simply climb around the perimeter now, he would have to climb up and along the canyon. His life just got way more complicated than it needed to be. Exasperated, Moroi tossed the piece of cloth to the ground, he probably wasn't going to be able to get away with a trick like that again this close to the canyon floor and he didn't have many more uses for a ruined piece of cloth. Moroi was going to simply have to overpowered this task with determination. His breath caught, Moroi quickly went to climbing, displaying the grace and agility that he had honed for so many years. Jumping, hopping and flipping from farther and father separated ledges, Moroi traversed the canyon. Finally the boy landed on a large ledge, with enough room to get a running start, about half way through the canyon. It was a running start he was going to need to. The closest ledge that he could possibly move along was far, much too far for any human being to jump, well, any normal human being. It was then that his mind wandered back to the city, to the speed that Krest displayed. How did he do that? Moroi knew it was a force ability, that kind of speed wasn't natural, even in Iridonians. There had to be something, Moroi just had to figure it out. He tried to use what Master Yinch had taught him, to clear his mind and feel. It wasn't much easier while he was stressed and covered in dirt than it was at the Academy. When he moved, the force moved with him, Moroi could feel that, but how was it utilized, how did he increase his muscle capacity. Maybe there simply wasn't a secret to it, maybe there wasn't a plan, maybe he just did it. That was a complicated concept for Moroi, his brain had always functioned in numbers and facts, functioning in feelings was difficult for him. The boy knelt down and tried to quiet his breathing, focusing on what Krest had done, focused on feeling it, focused on mimicking it and, surprisingly to Moroi, he started to feel it. He started to give in to the force, to feel it empowering him. His fatigue felt like it was fading he felt stronger, more alive. The boy shot off from the ledge, racing across the landing with a speed he had never known, and quickly leaping through the air, his speed carrying him to distances no normal man would ever dream himself capable of.

Of course, he hadn't quite perfected control. Moroi came up short and instead of landing gracefully on the ledge, Moroi crashed in to it, the jutting rocks slamming painfully in to his chest and his arms flopped on to the rock to support his weight. Moroi, finally catching himself, hung suspended for a few moments, recovering his breath and trying to block out the pain. The boy, slowly dragged himself up on to the ledge, enough room to sit as he propped his back against the canyon wall, laboring for breath. A pained chuckle left his lips. He just needed to look on the bright side, he was over half way there. After taking a moment to recover, Moroi went back to climbing and jumping from ledge to ledge, each movement becoming more precise and instinctual, his mind too tired to process much of the flash and grandeur that his earlier movements had. It did not take long for Moroi to be three quarters of the way done and reaching one more large jutting ledge, painfully pulling himself up on to the ledge. Dragging himself to his feet, his eyes gazed at the far side of the canyon, locking on to his teacher with a strange look of relief and annoyance across his features. He did not hold the gaze long before scanning the canyon around him. There were few ledges left and the ones that were left looked awfully similar to the one he fell from and his eyes darted back to the far ledge. It wasn't much farther than the last jump he made, it was the only way. It was much easier this time to perform, and Moroi felt the familiar surge of strength, the enhancement of every muscle in his body, the power of the force filling him. Moroi tore off, not looking at all like the hunched over and bruised boy he had been mere seconds ago. One step after another before his right foot planted on the edge of the ledge...and he jumped.

Moroi soared through the air and, like last time, his sense of control was a bit lacking. Thankfully, this time, he missed big rather than small. Moroi completely cleared the canyon, dangerously slamming in to the ground next to Krest, the fall causing him to fall to his feet and roll violently through the sand, knocking the particles in to the air as he smashed through the dune like a meteor. The boy finally finished rolling to a stop, plopping down on his back, his arms stretched out and forming a rather impressing sand angel as his breath stayed ragged, panting.

"Is...is that...all you got?"

 

[Darth Ferus]

Krest had been watching throughout the entire process. The Canyon was the very same that a Kryat Dragon had made home in not too long ago, so he had it filled with cameras if only to keep track of any more dragons. It was when the boy was about to fall that he almost took off from his spot to help him. Almost cast aside the ruse to keep @[member="Moroi Wareyasui"] from getting hurt. But the Jedi acted faster then he had anticipated. Faster then Krest figured he could.

With Moroi showing his own determination Krest had sat down, calmly watching the boys trip via a small datapad he picked up on their way to the canyon. Something had confused Krest though. He as moving slow. Slower then he thought the boy could. Perhaps he had over estimated once again how trained padawans were. How skilled they were in the Force. Once again he found himself doubting. Doubting if this was the best idea. But before he could come to his own conclusion the boy took off, soaring through the air.

The Zabrak watched in bewilderment as the boy leaped from ledge to ledge. It was clear this was the boy's first time ever using the Force in such a way, but even though he was messing up, it was clear he had a basic understanding. It was when the boy came in site that his datapad was placed back into it's hiding place. Back to the ruse. He watched the boy soar to him. Well, maybe a bit to close. He lifted his right hand, ready to catch or push the boy just enough not to land on him, but the boy wasn't that bad of an aim, instead landing right beside him.

He only watched as the boy tumbled and rolled into the distance, his form still quiet. So the boy was able to leap around fairly well. But he got extremely tired afterwards. Perhaps Ataru isn't for Moroi.. Not yet at least. He pushed himself up from his sitting position, walking over to the boys prone figure.

​"The real question is if that is all you've got. Ataru is also about endurance. If you cannot keep up. If you falter, the form will be the death of you." The Zabrak stood with his hands calmly clasped behind his back. From what he's learned about Moroi, slight provocation will only make him work harder. So he opted to do just that.

"Perhaps I cannot teach you Ataru. You may just have to go back to the Jedi."

 

[Moroi Wareyasui]

"I am not stupid!"

Moroi had jumped up the second @[member="Krest"] suggested sending him back to the Jedi and got considerably all up in his face, the signs of his fatigue were not gone, they were simply overpowered by the wave of defiance and self-righteous pride, that fire in his eyes perhaps even stronger than before, almost menacing as he glared back in to the smug eyes of the Iridonian. To be fair, the jury was still out on whether or not he was stupid, but more importantly he was not blind and while he was not smart enough to avoid taking the bait set to get a rise from him, he was good at critically analyzing a person's movements and understanding their application. He was bright, if horribly stubborn.

"I saw you in the city, Ataru requires agility, wide sweeping movements with a healthy amount of force behind them. If you didn't think you could teach me you wouldn't have brought me out here to all the open space and away from people I might accidentally hurt. I'm not going home after I got shot at and jumped a vaping canyon and I'm more than ready to take on whatever stupid challenge you have next!"

And he was, sort of. He was inevitably going to be tired, sore, and miserable, probably for weeks after her got back to the Academy, but Moroi was determined and inordinately stubborn, he simply wasn't going to let himself collapse until he mined this annoying man for every bit of knowledge he had. He was done being questioned, done be looked down at, he was going to prove to the this horny headed karker, and to himself, that he wasn't going to be pushed around any more by his condescension.

"Now what's next?"

 

[Darth Ferus]

The Zabrak only had a huge smile on his face after the boy jumped up. Determination was key to do anything. @[member="Moroi Wareyasui"] had passed all of his tests. He had proven to Krest he was worth teaching. The Zabrak pointing once more to the canyon before he himself walked towards it. "Ataru is about speed as much as endurance, yes. You go back to the beginning of the canyon again, only this time you will have to run through it non stop. No breaks, no hanging about while you center yourself. Just one fluid run through the canyon. You shall continue to try until your legs give out or you succeed. Once you do, you will head back to the city and grab some sleep. Rest your body. Today is about you learning the endurance and speed needed. Tomorrow I shall show you how to bring your saber in."

Krest stopped his walk. Moroi had a clumsy saber, that much was sure. Ataru wasn't a clumsy style. If the boy was going to learn how to use form four, he was going to need a better saber. He reached down to his side, grasping his own saber before tossing it to Moroi. "The blade is flat, probably not what you're use to. But it's much better then the saber you have now. If you can't sleep tonight, practice with that. Should it suit you, we shall use it in practice."

This was only day one. The form would not be learned in a day, so Krest moved his way down around the canyon, leaving the boy to his own devises. The cameras would track Moroi's progress, let him know if the boy was in trouble.

Well, hopefully he won't break the saber..

 

[Moroi Wareyasui]

Moroi caught the...well...strange blade in his hand and ignited it. It was not a traditional lightsaber. Moroi could tell it was designed with the same technology and had the same energy, but the blade was a straight edge, thinner...probably more useful for the kind of lacerations Krest was so fond of using to dispatch the previous altercation they had. Moroi noted his words as he gazed along the length of the blade, but only tore his eyes away from it when @[member="Krest"] had left the area, looking up at open space. A soft sigh escaped him, the look of defiance slowly curling in to a smile. The Iridonian smiled, was upsetting him a test? Was he going to have to put up with more psychological warfare like that? Fine, if that was the game he wanted to play, if that was how he wanted to attack, Moroi would keep battering it down, he would keep defiantly standing up to the horny kriff head. He was not sure if that's what the man wanted, but Moroi didn't really care either.

The trip back across the canyon was significantly easier with the force, almost effortless really in an almost frustrating manner. Jumping around with precision and flair was considerably easier when you had magic on your side, but that didn't make it any less frustrating that he had climbed the majority of the canyon with nothing but his own effort. Moroi finished traversing the distance in a small fraction of the time it took him on the first one, his eyes scanning the skyline back toward Mos Eisley. Krest wanted him to work on his endurance, but his muscles only ached from trying to traverse the canyon using nothing but his own strength. Using the force simplified the matter, a lot. It wasn't known to Moroi at the time, but he had a considerable amount of talent in this area. He didn't need to travel the canyon anymore to be able to maintain this speed for any length of time, but still the boy found himself turning back around to the massive opening in the ground. He did not need to, but he was going to anyway, if only to prove to the stupid canyon that he had surpassed it.

For hours, Moroi's small form darted back and forth across the canyon and at times, doing so with one saber drawn and near the end, trying it with both to practice moving without accidentally slicing his limbs off. The number of trips encroached on triple digits before he felt he needed to go back, not because he needed to stop, but because whatever Krest had planned for the next day was most likely going to require at least a couple hours of sleep. The soft hum on either side of him deflated as he placed the weapons back on his belt and made his way back to the city, locating the room he had booked and collapsing on what...he assumed...these people considered a bed and falling asleep rather quickly. Looking forward to tomorrow.

 

[Darth Ferus]

The next day came, hot as ever. The Zabrak waited at the end of the canyon, idly tossing his saber in his palm. It was similar to the light blue one he gave to @[member="Moroi Wareyasui"], only the blade was a deep red instead. Today they would cover how to use a saber while jumping.

But for now he had to wait. Until Moroi came there was nothing he could do.