Luke was pretty sure he'd heard different things about the different sides but he wasn't going to argue about it, he felt no particular reason to do so, Orex clearly had power and knowledge, both of which Luke was searching for. He was willing to follow his methods so long as they did not corrupt or control him. Luke watched the lava as it fell to the ground and grew to stone again, then glanced at the lava river as Orex continued to explain and speak, coming back to face him halfway through.
Only after he did, Luke's leg gave out, and as it did so did he let out a shout of pure pain as his tibia broke and he dropped to the ground. Gripping his leg in pain, the dirt and rocks slid away from him in his pain, but he did little else. Gritting his teeth and focusing, breathing deeply, keeping himself calm by nature. That was what you were supposed to do with most injuries and dangerous situations, even if you felt emotion, you controlled yourself.
He looked up at Orex with a furrowed brow and gritted teeth as he continued, watching as the man walked away. He narrowed his eyes, reaching out, pulling his armor to him. He would not be leaving that here, and just as important as the rest, his jetpack. It might not get him all the way there, but better something then nothing. His breathing was still heavy, and he was till on the ground, his arm starting to burn and breath hot against the ash.
Breathing quickened and there was a bit of a shudder as he sat up, holding his leg in place. Under normal circumstances, he'd head back to his ship, the simple way. His Jetpack could probably get him there. But that was not why he came here, he didn't come here just to prove he knew of other ways to success. He came to practice the force, even if the means of training did leave him with other options.
So he did as he was told, he reached into his heart, into his soul, felt the pain, focused on it. Determination filling every bit of his being, he was going to make sure that Orex understood that even if he had other options, he'd still make it. He breathed in, standing up, he gripped his left hand. Focusing on his leg, focusing on the bone itself, holding it to itself. Every step was agony, but he refused to give up. Every minute felt like an hour of its own, but his will would last an eternity.
Even so, every few minutes, Luke would use the Jetpack, boosting him into the air and taking him a bit of an extra distance, resting his body and focus he had been exerting to keep his leg in place. Each time he did it it was filled with moments of extreme pain when he would take off and land. But better moments of pain then constant.
Finally he could see the Goethermal plant, his jetpack was almost out, it only could get him so far which was barely even a fraction of the distance he'd just had to cover. He decided not to use it. He was so determined to show his will, he kept his helmet off, a face of mere determination. Refusing to show the fact his leg was split, the only sign of it a clenched left fist that he was using to help him focus on the force using his pain, keeping the leg in place as he walked. Not even willing to let himself limp or show a single sign of injury.
[member="Orex Mauda"]