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Character
To save the galaxy, to truly save it, one needed to accept all its aspects. There was always the good; the desires and wants to help others and use knowledge to do the same. Then, there was the bad, though Gravesen himself was a morally ambiguous man.
He had been given a task. A task so important, that any kind of boundaries he may have laid out for himself had been crossed. Crossed, broken, and burnt to smoking cinders that necessity called for. Morality made a man feel whole. It gave people purpose and a sort of meaning, but it hindered.
Gravesen himself was fully aware of the lines that need not be crossed. He knew of the dangers the darkside presented. While many saw the lines of light and dark as simply definitions of allegiance, Gravesen knew the truth. To follow completely down one path, was to revel in ignorance. One must study all the different natures of the force if a galactic crisis was to be prevented.
It was for this reason, that he had borrowed the holocron of one Darth Kaiser from the old Templar Archives. It held secrets that would undoubtedly help the ASA in its aims, as well as himself.
He sat cross legged in his small room aboard the Ge’hutuun. his bed had been pushed to the far side of the room, against the wall, and any loose objects had been moved to the adjacent living quarters. The force was a dangerous beast when one was treading down a new path, and he would be wary of such.
The holocron sat at his feet; begging to be opened. The glyphs imbedded in its metal skin glowed the faintest shade of crimson, and cast a dull maroon light across the reflective steel floors. All lights in the room had been turned off in hopes of helping Gravesen concentrate on this endeavor.
He eyed the small horde of stink beetles he had gathered beforehand. They moved about lazily in a small enclosure lined with small metal crates to keep them from escaping. Some were a bright orange, the others a sharp emerald. All meandered without a care in their temporary home; happy and oblivious to what would soon occur.
The Sith holocron clicked as it was accessed. The outer casing folded away to reveal a holoemitter. It cast a similar crimson light, and the image of an old Darth Kaiser himself formed on the circular platform.
“Why do you seek audience with me?” Kaiser demanded,
Gravesen sat up straight, and knit his brow in confusion. The holocrons were sentient? “A great threat looms over the galaxy. It cannot remain divided...I need your teachings to bring it under one banner.”
The artificial Sith Lord rumbled with quiet laughter. He folded his arms over his chest, and even in a holographic state, seemed to exude great wisdom. “You do, do you? Tell me boy, who do you serve?”
Gravesen fell silent. He tilted his head toward the mob of beetles, and bit down into his lower lip. Claiming allegiance to the Sith would be an outright lie, and it was possible Kaiser would be able to tell that much. Saying he was working with a race of droids and the successors of those who had ended his life would likely do no better.
“I serve no one. My will is my own.” He stated defiantly.
Kaiser leaned forward in quiet amusement, and spoke. “So you do then. What is it you wish to know then, boy?”
Gravesen bristled. He was not particularly pleased with the condescending tone the holocron too, but at the same time, perhaps it was deserved. Gravesen was coming asking for its aid for nothing in return, after all.
“I wish to know the secrets to Sith Battle Coordination...and what happened to you.”
This time, it was Kaiser who seemed almost caught off-guard. He said nothing for a painfully long moment, and simply stared with judging eyes up at the Rattataki. “You want to control others then. You wish to inspire them; to cultivate them into a force to be feared. A suitable goal, yes….yes indeed.”
Gravesen nodded. “I do.” He opened his mouth to speak further, but the words died in his throat. He needed the holocron to believe what he said. To understand that Gravesen was looking to truly cultivate the Sith, if nothing more. With that in mind, the Harbinger opted to play the part. “My warriors need to be greater than any other if we are to succeed. Regular soldiers have failed me time and time again.”
Kaiser paused. The image held up a hand, and twisted its lips into a wicked grin. “You speak like a general, but your will...is it strong enough to bear that burden; to influence the very souls of your men to do what needs to be done?”
Gravesen did not hesitate. “It is.”
Kaiser pointed two fingers toward the herd of beetles. “Then prove it to me. Your passions are your strength. Your warriors will only succeed if you desire success with every fiber of your being. Your will must be unwavering; your power an impenetrable wall against any form of weakness. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
“We shall see. Focus, and you will succeed.”
Gravesen closed his eyes, and let his thoughts drift outward. The beetles were all simple creatures. Their desires never pushed beyond that of the flesh. So long as they found food each day, and mated when the time came, they were content; if content was something the creatures could even feel. Such minds were easily manipulated, though en masse, the task was a challenge.
The Rattataki focused his mind on the emerald beetles. Their carapaces helped to identify them from the others. They were significantly smaller than their orange counterparts, and that presented the challenge Gravesen needed. He focused on their small minds.
Each one held the same desires as the others. None were truly sentient, yet that could still be influenced in the same way. The felt emotions on the most basic of levels, as all creatures did. Gravesen subtly expanded upon these. Anger and rage, the kind an animal would feel upon its mate being eaten by another creature, flared up in the beetles.
The emerald creatures all turned as one toward their peaceful orange counterparts. The loud clicking of their mandible filled the room, and they charged. The larger beetles were unwary at first. Two of the affected creatures slammed into the sides of their orange counterpart and speared it through the abdomen. The beetle died instantly, and another fell to the same fate.
At this point, the larger beetles began to circle up in an attempt to defend themselves. An emerald beetles was smashed between the mandibles of a defender; another crushed under it enemy’s weight.
“Your warriors are strong then, boy, but their enemies are stronger. You must crush their will, before you crush their bodies. That is true dominance.” Kaiser instructed.
Gravesen faltered for a moment after the hologram finished speaking. In turn, his beetles were slowly backed into a corner by the larger ones. What did the Darth mean by destroying their will? The Rattataki took a deep breath, and knit his brow up in a concentration. If he was to destroy the enemy’s will, then he would.
The orange creatures began to move forward to make their final kill, when Gravesen inserted doubt into their minds. Fears that the smaller beetles were poisonous to the touch. Doubts to their supremacy, and their ability to truly destroy their attackers. At the same time, he influenced the minds of his own warriors.The larger beetles were cowards, and easily taken care of. To hide due to their large size was to accept death.
The emerald beetles charged as one. The orange ones squealed in terror as mandibles pierced their carapaces, and their back legs were torn away as they turned to run. Within seconds, the entirety of the orange beetles lay dead across the small enclosure. The green beetles clicked in triumph, and went to the task of eating their fresh kills. They had done their jobs well, and Gravesen would permit them the treat.
“Better than I expected.” Kaiser commented. The Sith Lord folded his arms over his chest, and watched as the beatles went about eating their dinner. “Do you now understand? The fears and passions of all creatures can be influenced; all you must do is learn to control them.”
Gravesen tilted his head forward in the slightest of nods. It made sense now, and the beatles had responded to his orders. He could translate this to a real conflict, and a difference could surely be made. This would not be something soon forgotten.
“I understand, Darth Kaiser. The soldiers are only as strong as the will of their leader. If the enemy can be subverted, then the tides will flow further in your soldiers’ favor. This has been...valuable.”
“Then perhaps you will open yourself further to the Sith teachings. Further strength awaits you down the path I have opened to you. The path you have opened to yourself.” Kaiser commented.
“Perhaps...but for now, tell me of your past. How you died and how you lived. I want to know everything.”
One must learn before they can teach.They must decide what path to take, and what actions must be done to make sure that path is right. This was the code that Gravesen had learned as a small child; reading over the books his parents had occasionally allowed him to read as a reward for good behavior. Oh, how long ago that was now.
The Harbinger sat cross legged in the meditation chamber of the Ge’hutuun. It was not attributed to his importance; he simply needed a practicing room of his own. His crew was large and needed its space. The Obsidian Knight’s lightsaber he had borrowed hung idly above his pale face; the leather wrapped around its bronze metal giving the long weapon a look that could only be described as archaic. Soresu was one of the forms Gravesen had taken to learning, and he was rather proficient now. It was time he gave another form a chance.
Niman was rarely used this day and age. The majority of duelists seemed to rely on Ataru and other, more extreme forms. Niman was viewed as the diplomats form, a middle ground between all the other forms. There were no particular strengths, but at the same time, no particular weaknesses. This had attracted Gravesen during his studies, and now that he was able to practice with two blades; it was practical. The style was known as Jar’kai throughout the galaxy; Niman simply being the name of the particular form encompassed within that skill set.
The Harbinger twirled his second lightsaber. Its spiked hilt shone in the pale light that illuminated only the center of the room. It was a fallen Knight’s lightsaber, and held a powerful cyan crystal within. The lightsaber was many years old, and the scratches across the decorative red crystal at its aft end were a testament to that.
Gravesen stood up slowly, snatching both of the deadly tools from their places within the air. It was time.
He had studied how Niman was supposed to work for many weeks now: memorizing patterns, learning techniques, and getting into the mindset he would need. The twin weapons ignited, his own a sharp brutal shade of orange, and the knight’s the gentle yet deadly bright cyan. The glows fought with each other for supremacy as the pale light died all at once. Gravesen stared down at his plain black pants and the simple white shirt he wore. Putting on a form of protection would make this exercise far less effective. If he failed, he needed to know it. He needed to feel the pain that came with it for it to be real. It had to be that way, real, if he wanted to learn.
There were no unwelcome memories now, or distractions. Only himself, and the room. Then, it began. Two massive spider droids covered in bronze plating fell free of twin hatches atop the room’s roof. He had used these when practicing Soresu, batting back whatever bolts they dared to send his way. Now, he would take the fight back to them in a sort of way.
the larger of the two strode forward on four pillar-like legs. It growled in a warbled electronic language and dipped its massive headpiece forward. Eight red photoreceptors blinked at Gravesen with an intent to kill. Its twin blaster cannons began to rumbled as power was put into them, and the droid bucked downward as it prepared to fire.
Gravesen rushed at the thing. He pushed himself up into the air and sent a blast of telekinetic energy at the droid. It squealed as its front legs bent inward and its cannon fired directly into the floor. Fire flew up from the crackling durasteel and scorched some of its photoreceptors. The droid wheel around and started off for the adjacent wall just as Gravesen landed heavily against the floor. The move was taxing, but not at all overly tiring.
He was sure that if he had charged the thing with his lightsaber he would have failed against the next droid. he would have been too tired. Niman wasn’t as powerful as Ataru, but it utilized the force far more. It saved energy, and while it drew fights out longer, Gravesen was grateful for the extra strength. He held up two fingers over his orange blade and wrenched the droid’s pillars from the wall, sending it tumbling against the floor on its back. It wriggled in distress as it tried to flip back onto its belly.
Gravesen launched himself upward once more, his intense desire to put the thing out of its misery driving his ability to manipulate the force. He would have speared the thing too if the second droid hadn’t fired off a volley. The apprentice barely managed to pitch a spin mid-air and the bolts exploded against his blades. They sent him rolling back against the floor; his orange blade falling away to slide across the floor. The hilt doused itself and skidded against burnt panels, coming to stop at the other side of the room. Gravesen cursed, and forced himself up onto one knee. As he did so, the first droid turned about whirled about and clipped him in the back with its pillar-like leg.
The Harbinger yelped and fell forward. The pain was quite real, and it would no doubt leave a nasty bruise at a later date. The familiar sound of the cannons charging once more registered in Gravesen’s ears. He pitched another roll and just narrowly avoided the heavy bolts. The twin droids regrouped; skidding up closer to each other near the primary door leading outside.
Graversen stood up and drew upon the force to keep himself going. He embraced the pain. It was a motivator, and a warning not to fail again, lest something worse befall him. He held out his free hand, the the leatherbound blade slapped into his hand. The Apprentices brow knit with fury, and his unkempt hair fell into his face. A growl tore itself from his throat as he charged once more; this time using the force to amplify his speed as he had been taught by Ferus.
The droids roared back at him in a disturbing chorus and let their weapons fire freely. The bolts kicked up ground panels and dust as the floor exploded upward from each impact. Gravesen battered away two shots, which jarred his arm to the point of extreme pain, and sent a telekinetic strike at the droids. The twin metal behemoth's fell back in opposite directions as the power behind the strike forced them apart, giving Graxin the moment he needed.
The cyan blade swept clean through the second droid's front legs and twisted to stab up through its center carapace. The spider screamed a loud shrill cry, and fell silent. His weapon stuck in the first droid, Gravesen barely brought his orange sword up to slice through on of the pillars hammering down to crush him. Gravesen quickly pitched a roll, and drove his primary blade through its chest.
The final hatch slowly hissed open. A tall humanoid figure fell from it and landed perfectly on its feet. The combat droid was one that the Jedi often used to train their padawans. The difference being that the Jedi droids were not to cause harm. This one's sole purpose was to end Graxin's life. It drew a huge crimson bladed lightsaber staff, and tilted its domed head back in challenge.
The Spider Droids were only work-ups. This was the real thing. Gravesen’s furiosity had ended the droids and preserved his life. The balance of Niman had helped him keep himself together, and it was only now that he realized it was perfect for him. His lightsabers were extensions of his body, and his body an extension of his will. The only problem was that his will was an extension of another being's, though it wouldn't remain so forever. Graxin did indeed hate the droid. It was the only thing within his path, and he relished the thought of tearing the contraption down circuit by circuit.
“Onward then.” He growled, and held out both hands. The usage of his power had tired him, yes, but the Dark Side rejuvenated him. It filled his body and filled his limbs with energy. The force flew from his hands once more, and the droid growled something guttural and unintelligible. Then it simply wasn't there. Gravesen stared in confusion at the space the droid had once occupied.
What in Corellia's Nine Hells...?
The snap-hiss of the lightsaber was all that saved Graxin from a decapitation. He quickly ducked and swung upward in an X at the droid. A deep laugh emanated from its domed head and its staff caught the strike on both ends. Taken by surprised, Gravesen quickly pulled back and fell into Soresu. It was a lucky move. The staff swung left, Gravesen parried with the orange. It rolled off and span right, Gravesen held it with both blades. The droid growled once more and delivered three quick jabs. Gravesen tilted the blade left, right, then downward catch each strike. The droid hit incredibly hard, and without Soresu and the knowledge of tight blocks, it would have broken through Gravesen’a defense with ease.
The droid lifted its bottom blade to deliver a killing stab, and Gravesen took his chance. He swung quickly at the droid's midriff and sliced it from torso to hip. It stared down in surprise, and made a low gurgling noise. Then it brought its weapon about for a quick swing at Gravesen's neck. The droid didn't fall apart, oddly. In fact, its torso remained attached. Gravesen blinked in confusion as he switched to Niman, blocking the glancing strike with the orange while he plunged the cyan into the droid's domed head.
Then, it fell apart. Its upper half and head fell free from its legs, and the crimson staff hissed one final time as it died. Graxvesen stared down at the smoking metal corpse, and took a deep breath. He had lost control, and it had almost cost him his life. His hatred had given him focus, and at the same time, blinded him to the reality of the situation. This wasn't supposed to happen....
His lightsabers sheathed and left him standing in total darkness. The Harbinger clipped his blades to his belt; and cast his gaze downward into the darkness. He was confident in the usage of of Niman and Jar'kai now...but not in his thoughts.
Gravesen settled down to sit in the middle of the room once more. He paid no heed to the smoking remains in each corner, and instead outstretched his thoughts. Perhaps meditation was necessary.
He had been given a task. A task so important, that any kind of boundaries he may have laid out for himself had been crossed. Crossed, broken, and burnt to smoking cinders that necessity called for. Morality made a man feel whole. It gave people purpose and a sort of meaning, but it hindered.
Gravesen himself was fully aware of the lines that need not be crossed. He knew of the dangers the darkside presented. While many saw the lines of light and dark as simply definitions of allegiance, Gravesen knew the truth. To follow completely down one path, was to revel in ignorance. One must study all the different natures of the force if a galactic crisis was to be prevented.
It was for this reason, that he had borrowed the holocron of one Darth Kaiser from the old Templar Archives. It held secrets that would undoubtedly help the ASA in its aims, as well as himself.
He sat cross legged in his small room aboard the Ge’hutuun. his bed had been pushed to the far side of the room, against the wall, and any loose objects had been moved to the adjacent living quarters. The force was a dangerous beast when one was treading down a new path, and he would be wary of such.
The holocron sat at his feet; begging to be opened. The glyphs imbedded in its metal skin glowed the faintest shade of crimson, and cast a dull maroon light across the reflective steel floors. All lights in the room had been turned off in hopes of helping Gravesen concentrate on this endeavor.
He eyed the small horde of stink beetles he had gathered beforehand. They moved about lazily in a small enclosure lined with small metal crates to keep them from escaping. Some were a bright orange, the others a sharp emerald. All meandered without a care in their temporary home; happy and oblivious to what would soon occur.
The Sith holocron clicked as it was accessed. The outer casing folded away to reveal a holoemitter. It cast a similar crimson light, and the image of an old Darth Kaiser himself formed on the circular platform.
“Why do you seek audience with me?” Kaiser demanded,
Gravesen sat up straight, and knit his brow in confusion. The holocrons were sentient? “A great threat looms over the galaxy. It cannot remain divided...I need your teachings to bring it under one banner.”
The artificial Sith Lord rumbled with quiet laughter. He folded his arms over his chest, and even in a holographic state, seemed to exude great wisdom. “You do, do you? Tell me boy, who do you serve?”
Gravesen fell silent. He tilted his head toward the mob of beetles, and bit down into his lower lip. Claiming allegiance to the Sith would be an outright lie, and it was possible Kaiser would be able to tell that much. Saying he was working with a race of droids and the successors of those who had ended his life would likely do no better.
“I serve no one. My will is my own.” He stated defiantly.
Kaiser leaned forward in quiet amusement, and spoke. “So you do then. What is it you wish to know then, boy?”
Gravesen bristled. He was not particularly pleased with the condescending tone the holocron too, but at the same time, perhaps it was deserved. Gravesen was coming asking for its aid for nothing in return, after all.
“I wish to know the secrets to Sith Battle Coordination...and what happened to you.”
This time, it was Kaiser who seemed almost caught off-guard. He said nothing for a painfully long moment, and simply stared with judging eyes up at the Rattataki. “You want to control others then. You wish to inspire them; to cultivate them into a force to be feared. A suitable goal, yes….yes indeed.”
Gravesen nodded. “I do.” He opened his mouth to speak further, but the words died in his throat. He needed the holocron to believe what he said. To understand that Gravesen was looking to truly cultivate the Sith, if nothing more. With that in mind, the Harbinger opted to play the part. “My warriors need to be greater than any other if we are to succeed. Regular soldiers have failed me time and time again.”
Kaiser paused. The image held up a hand, and twisted its lips into a wicked grin. “You speak like a general, but your will...is it strong enough to bear that burden; to influence the very souls of your men to do what needs to be done?”
Gravesen did not hesitate. “It is.”
Kaiser pointed two fingers toward the herd of beetles. “Then prove it to me. Your passions are your strength. Your warriors will only succeed if you desire success with every fiber of your being. Your will must be unwavering; your power an impenetrable wall against any form of weakness. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
“We shall see. Focus, and you will succeed.”
Gravesen closed his eyes, and let his thoughts drift outward. The beetles were all simple creatures. Their desires never pushed beyond that of the flesh. So long as they found food each day, and mated when the time came, they were content; if content was something the creatures could even feel. Such minds were easily manipulated, though en masse, the task was a challenge.
The Rattataki focused his mind on the emerald beetles. Their carapaces helped to identify them from the others. They were significantly smaller than their orange counterparts, and that presented the challenge Gravesen needed. He focused on their small minds.
Each one held the same desires as the others. None were truly sentient, yet that could still be influenced in the same way. The felt emotions on the most basic of levels, as all creatures did. Gravesen subtly expanded upon these. Anger and rage, the kind an animal would feel upon its mate being eaten by another creature, flared up in the beetles.
The emerald creatures all turned as one toward their peaceful orange counterparts. The loud clicking of their mandible filled the room, and they charged. The larger beetles were unwary at first. Two of the affected creatures slammed into the sides of their orange counterpart and speared it through the abdomen. The beetle died instantly, and another fell to the same fate.
At this point, the larger beetles began to circle up in an attempt to defend themselves. An emerald beetles was smashed between the mandibles of a defender; another crushed under it enemy’s weight.
“Your warriors are strong then, boy, but their enemies are stronger. You must crush their will, before you crush their bodies. That is true dominance.” Kaiser instructed.
Gravesen faltered for a moment after the hologram finished speaking. In turn, his beetles were slowly backed into a corner by the larger ones. What did the Darth mean by destroying their will? The Rattataki took a deep breath, and knit his brow up in a concentration. If he was to destroy the enemy’s will, then he would.
The orange creatures began to move forward to make their final kill, when Gravesen inserted doubt into their minds. Fears that the smaller beetles were poisonous to the touch. Doubts to their supremacy, and their ability to truly destroy their attackers. At the same time, he influenced the minds of his own warriors.The larger beetles were cowards, and easily taken care of. To hide due to their large size was to accept death.
The emerald beetles charged as one. The orange ones squealed in terror as mandibles pierced their carapaces, and their back legs were torn away as they turned to run. Within seconds, the entirety of the orange beetles lay dead across the small enclosure. The green beetles clicked in triumph, and went to the task of eating their fresh kills. They had done their jobs well, and Gravesen would permit them the treat.
“Better than I expected.” Kaiser commented. The Sith Lord folded his arms over his chest, and watched as the beatles went about eating their dinner. “Do you now understand? The fears and passions of all creatures can be influenced; all you must do is learn to control them.”
Gravesen tilted his head forward in the slightest of nods. It made sense now, and the beatles had responded to his orders. He could translate this to a real conflict, and a difference could surely be made. This would not be something soon forgotten.
“I understand, Darth Kaiser. The soldiers are only as strong as the will of their leader. If the enemy can be subverted, then the tides will flow further in your soldiers’ favor. This has been...valuable.”
“Then perhaps you will open yourself further to the Sith teachings. Further strength awaits you down the path I have opened to you. The path you have opened to yourself.” Kaiser commented.
“Perhaps...but for now, tell me of your past. How you died and how you lived. I want to know everything.”
One must learn before they can teach.They must decide what path to take, and what actions must be done to make sure that path is right. This was the code that Gravesen had learned as a small child; reading over the books his parents had occasionally allowed him to read as a reward for good behavior. Oh, how long ago that was now.
The Harbinger sat cross legged in the meditation chamber of the Ge’hutuun. It was not attributed to his importance; he simply needed a practicing room of his own. His crew was large and needed its space. The Obsidian Knight’s lightsaber he had borrowed hung idly above his pale face; the leather wrapped around its bronze metal giving the long weapon a look that could only be described as archaic. Soresu was one of the forms Gravesen had taken to learning, and he was rather proficient now. It was time he gave another form a chance.
Niman was rarely used this day and age. The majority of duelists seemed to rely on Ataru and other, more extreme forms. Niman was viewed as the diplomats form, a middle ground between all the other forms. There were no particular strengths, but at the same time, no particular weaknesses. This had attracted Gravesen during his studies, and now that he was able to practice with two blades; it was practical. The style was known as Jar’kai throughout the galaxy; Niman simply being the name of the particular form encompassed within that skill set.
The Harbinger twirled his second lightsaber. Its spiked hilt shone in the pale light that illuminated only the center of the room. It was a fallen Knight’s lightsaber, and held a powerful cyan crystal within. The lightsaber was many years old, and the scratches across the decorative red crystal at its aft end were a testament to that.
Gravesen stood up slowly, snatching both of the deadly tools from their places within the air. It was time.
He had studied how Niman was supposed to work for many weeks now: memorizing patterns, learning techniques, and getting into the mindset he would need. The twin weapons ignited, his own a sharp brutal shade of orange, and the knight’s the gentle yet deadly bright cyan. The glows fought with each other for supremacy as the pale light died all at once. Gravesen stared down at his plain black pants and the simple white shirt he wore. Putting on a form of protection would make this exercise far less effective. If he failed, he needed to know it. He needed to feel the pain that came with it for it to be real. It had to be that way, real, if he wanted to learn.
There were no unwelcome memories now, or distractions. Only himself, and the room. Then, it began. Two massive spider droids covered in bronze plating fell free of twin hatches atop the room’s roof. He had used these when practicing Soresu, batting back whatever bolts they dared to send his way. Now, he would take the fight back to them in a sort of way.
the larger of the two strode forward on four pillar-like legs. It growled in a warbled electronic language and dipped its massive headpiece forward. Eight red photoreceptors blinked at Gravesen with an intent to kill. Its twin blaster cannons began to rumbled as power was put into them, and the droid bucked downward as it prepared to fire.
Gravesen rushed at the thing. He pushed himself up into the air and sent a blast of telekinetic energy at the droid. It squealed as its front legs bent inward and its cannon fired directly into the floor. Fire flew up from the crackling durasteel and scorched some of its photoreceptors. The droid wheel around and started off for the adjacent wall just as Gravesen landed heavily against the floor. The move was taxing, but not at all overly tiring.
He was sure that if he had charged the thing with his lightsaber he would have failed against the next droid. he would have been too tired. Niman wasn’t as powerful as Ataru, but it utilized the force far more. It saved energy, and while it drew fights out longer, Gravesen was grateful for the extra strength. He held up two fingers over his orange blade and wrenched the droid’s pillars from the wall, sending it tumbling against the floor on its back. It wriggled in distress as it tried to flip back onto its belly.
Gravesen launched himself upward once more, his intense desire to put the thing out of its misery driving his ability to manipulate the force. He would have speared the thing too if the second droid hadn’t fired off a volley. The apprentice barely managed to pitch a spin mid-air and the bolts exploded against his blades. They sent him rolling back against the floor; his orange blade falling away to slide across the floor. The hilt doused itself and skidded against burnt panels, coming to stop at the other side of the room. Gravesen cursed, and forced himself up onto one knee. As he did so, the first droid turned about whirled about and clipped him in the back with its pillar-like leg.
The Harbinger yelped and fell forward. The pain was quite real, and it would no doubt leave a nasty bruise at a later date. The familiar sound of the cannons charging once more registered in Gravesen’s ears. He pitched another roll and just narrowly avoided the heavy bolts. The twin droids regrouped; skidding up closer to each other near the primary door leading outside.
Graversen stood up and drew upon the force to keep himself going. He embraced the pain. It was a motivator, and a warning not to fail again, lest something worse befall him. He held out his free hand, the the leatherbound blade slapped into his hand. The Apprentices brow knit with fury, and his unkempt hair fell into his face. A growl tore itself from his throat as he charged once more; this time using the force to amplify his speed as he had been taught by Ferus.
The droids roared back at him in a disturbing chorus and let their weapons fire freely. The bolts kicked up ground panels and dust as the floor exploded upward from each impact. Gravesen battered away two shots, which jarred his arm to the point of extreme pain, and sent a telekinetic strike at the droids. The twin metal behemoth's fell back in opposite directions as the power behind the strike forced them apart, giving Graxin the moment he needed.
The cyan blade swept clean through the second droid's front legs and twisted to stab up through its center carapace. The spider screamed a loud shrill cry, and fell silent. His weapon stuck in the first droid, Gravesen barely brought his orange sword up to slice through on of the pillars hammering down to crush him. Gravesen quickly pitched a roll, and drove his primary blade through its chest.
The final hatch slowly hissed open. A tall humanoid figure fell from it and landed perfectly on its feet. The combat droid was one that the Jedi often used to train their padawans. The difference being that the Jedi droids were not to cause harm. This one's sole purpose was to end Graxin's life. It drew a huge crimson bladed lightsaber staff, and tilted its domed head back in challenge.
The Spider Droids were only work-ups. This was the real thing. Gravesen’s furiosity had ended the droids and preserved his life. The balance of Niman had helped him keep himself together, and it was only now that he realized it was perfect for him. His lightsabers were extensions of his body, and his body an extension of his will. The only problem was that his will was an extension of another being's, though it wouldn't remain so forever. Graxin did indeed hate the droid. It was the only thing within his path, and he relished the thought of tearing the contraption down circuit by circuit.
“Onward then.” He growled, and held out both hands. The usage of his power had tired him, yes, but the Dark Side rejuvenated him. It filled his body and filled his limbs with energy. The force flew from his hands once more, and the droid growled something guttural and unintelligible. Then it simply wasn't there. Gravesen stared in confusion at the space the droid had once occupied.
What in Corellia's Nine Hells...?
The snap-hiss of the lightsaber was all that saved Graxin from a decapitation. He quickly ducked and swung upward in an X at the droid. A deep laugh emanated from its domed head and its staff caught the strike on both ends. Taken by surprised, Gravesen quickly pulled back and fell into Soresu. It was a lucky move. The staff swung left, Gravesen parried with the orange. It rolled off and span right, Gravesen held it with both blades. The droid growled once more and delivered three quick jabs. Gravesen tilted the blade left, right, then downward catch each strike. The droid hit incredibly hard, and without Soresu and the knowledge of tight blocks, it would have broken through Gravesen’a defense with ease.
The droid lifted its bottom blade to deliver a killing stab, and Gravesen took his chance. He swung quickly at the droid's midriff and sliced it from torso to hip. It stared down in surprise, and made a low gurgling noise. Then it brought its weapon about for a quick swing at Gravesen's neck. The droid didn't fall apart, oddly. In fact, its torso remained attached. Gravesen blinked in confusion as he switched to Niman, blocking the glancing strike with the orange while he plunged the cyan into the droid's domed head.
Then, it fell apart. Its upper half and head fell free from its legs, and the crimson staff hissed one final time as it died. Graxvesen stared down at the smoking metal corpse, and took a deep breath. He had lost control, and it had almost cost him his life. His hatred had given him focus, and at the same time, blinded him to the reality of the situation. This wasn't supposed to happen....
His lightsabers sheathed and left him standing in total darkness. The Harbinger clipped his blades to his belt; and cast his gaze downward into the darkness. He was confident in the usage of of Niman and Jar'kai now...but not in his thoughts.
Gravesen settled down to sit in the middle of the room once more. He paid no heed to the smoking remains in each corner, and instead outstretched his thoughts. Perhaps meditation was necessary.