New Fate.

[Darth Ferus]

[member="Hasjo Hallu"]

Utapau. The entire planet was covered in sinkholes, but they were already inhabited, mined for the minerals they gave off. The locals lived along the mined edges, making homes. But there was one sinkhole that was left alone, left uninhabited. Darth Ferus stood by it's edge, staring down into the sinkhole itself. Deus remained attached to his hip, hidden beneath the folds that made up his cloak.

He traveled here as part of his goal to see all the Galaxy had to offer. Even with his fall that basic goal remained. He had no care for watching around him, sure he would be alone. Why would anyone be looking for him?

 

[Lord Gaius]

Hasjo glanced down into a sinkhole. He shook his head, his head-tresses shivering in the wind. The bay doors of the LAAT/i were open, the Nautolan gripped a hand rail as he leaned out. Observing from above. He couldn't fathom the logic of the local Utapauns. Sinkholes were dangerous businesses, especially on a planet where they were large enough to consume frigates. To mine into the sinkholes was most dangerous, as sinkholes typically formed - at least on his home planet of Glee Anselm - when one mined the gas beneath the surface. He directed the transport with the indication of his index and middle finger, pointing it down into an abandoned sinkhole. He felt something down there, and he needed to trust his instincts. It is what they had drilled into him as a Youngling. The aircraft dived into the sinkhole.

@[member="Darth Ferus"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

Darth Ferus watched as the gunship fly down. For a moment he kept quiet, surprised to see the Republic. Well, they were republic right? I mean, only the CIS and the Republic use the LAAT ships, and in the CIS case he shouldn't be able to sense anyone. Yet he could, and there was one that stood out more then anything else. [member="Hasjo Hallu"] 's presence stood out like a bright light in a dark tunnel, causing the Zabrak's curiosity to expand. Now, he would go down, following the LAAT if only to see the Nautolan. He had no idea who or what it was that gave off the presence, only that he wanted to corrupt it. Bring darkness to the beacon of light.

 

[Lord Gaius]

The LAAT/i dove past Darth Ferus, and further down to the lowest platform. The thudding of landing stilts informed Hasjo it was time to depart, as his feet trod onto the platform, the LAAT was already making for departure. It would return for him when he signalled the gunship. He glanced over the edge, it was perhaps a one-hundred meter drop to the bottom where water resided. A dark, murky green, ridden with rubble from ages past. Hasjo turned his attention elsewhere and began to enter the abandoned cityscape that had been mined into the side of the sinkhole. Once more, he was baffled by these strange sentients. They were surely mad, he told himself. He could feel the dark side permeating from this place. Something, or someone was definitely here.

@[member="Darth Ferus"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

The Zabrak lept down in front of [member="Hasjo Hallu"] after the LAAT gunship flew off, slowly moving to stand. His black armor shinned in the daylight as a pale blue gaze found itself on the Nautolan. He made no move to attack, no move to be threatening. It was more likely then not the man could call it back, which would prove a problem. But to try and ease any tension for the moment, he spoke up. His voice was raspy, scarred from the burn marks evident on his neck and cheek, but it was calm, easily understandable.

"You shine rather brightly you know. Must make hiding that much harder." A red and black hand slowly rested on the hilt of his blade Deus. He kept a wary eye on Hasjo, ready for any sort of conflict. Jedi had a knack for wanting to destroy the Dark Side after all, or at least that's what Ferus thinks after his last encounter with them.

 

[Lord Gaius]

The Nautolan soaked in the sight of [member="Darth Ferus"]. He recognised him as the darkness he had felt in the Force. It permeated from him. Ferus spoke "You shine rather brightly you know. Must make hiding that much harder."
"My way is not of the cloak and dagger" Hasjo spoke. It was his duty as a Silver Jedi to maintain peace, order and balance in the galaxy. While he would not kill anyone, including a Sith, without a dire need for his own survival or that of others, he would regardless hunt them. The Dark Side had only ever led down a path of sorrow and agony. The silver cloak that draped the Nautolan's shoulders dragged along the ground behind his heels, the Jedi Knight beginning to pace. His great, black eyes watching him with caution. Slowly, and with care to not startle the man in thinking he was to attack, he reached up, unclipping his cloak. The silk material fell to the ground in a pile, as though a curtain had fallen elegantly in the breeze. The amphibious creature's skin was slick. He wore a light grey Jedi tunic and dark grey trousers, with black leather boots. At his waist clasped a Lightsaber Pike to his hilt. It was a silver that matched his cloak.

He could sense it, this man was greater than himself in the Force. Though he felt something strange about this man, something organic was missing from his body. Prosthetics had replaced two of his limbs. He measured that, knowing full well they would be stronger this his others. Hasjo continued to pace, sizing him up. His years of experience on the field had led him to achieve great skill with the Lightsaber, he only hoped it would be enough to take down this foe. To bring him back before the council. He offered him a chance of redemption, a single warning to throw away his loyalty to the Dark Side and rejoin the Light. "Do not let your emotions fuel your power. It's not safe. Maybe not to your body, but to your spirit. There does not need to be violence this day. I can get you help. I can help you."

 

[Darth Ferus]

"You know, I did some reading on the Jedi. There was a point in which the Jedi used emotion. Where they didn't fear love, hate. A man called Luke was the Grandmaster, he preached only that you be in control of your emotions. And yet the Jedi have returned to their weakness. Fear of feeling." The Zabrak spoke slowly, calmly. He kept his mind focused, sensing the Nautolan, feeling his movements. Other then his breath, his blinking, and his voice Ferus kept stone still, his hand still gripping the hilt of his blade. Through the ruins he felt for the earth below, feeling the ground as [member="Hasjo Hallu"] paced.

"Tell me, do you fear being in love?" If the Jedi was going to try and 'save' him, he was going to return the favor. Make the Nautolan fall. He reached deep into the ground, preparing himself for a fight that was bound to occur. No matter how calm a Sith and a Jedi were, they would fight. That was the unsung rule of the Galaxy. Light and Dark cannot coexist without one giving way to the other. This was a lesson the Zabrak learned long ago, and this day he would teach another.

 

[Lord Gaius]

"Tell me, do you fear being in love?" Darth Ferus asked of Hasjo as the Nautolan continued his persistent pacing. The amphibian regarded him with lidless, unblinking eyes. They didn't appear to move, as a humans would when it's focused trained on various objects. Rather, his eyes seemed to train on everything. Perfect perception of that around him. Hasjo spoke "Attachment only leads to jealousy, the shadow of greed. It takes strength to resist the Dark Side. Only the weak embrace it. It is powerful, but those who oppose it are more powerful than you would ever be." He stopped his pacing. Unclasping his Lightsaber Pike, he ignited it with the sliding of his clawed thumb. Cerulean plasma hissed to life. "You will not surrender, and thus, I will do what I must." He breathed deeply. Fire burned his veins as his twin hearts went slightly out of rhythm with each other, preparing him for action. This was the moment that he lived for, the calm before the storm. Like swimming the surface during one of Glee Anselm’s mammoth hurricanes, or the practice of Form I, it was the storm itself that was the test, the challenge to see if he could maintain his balance in the whirlwind. He came at him fast and powerful, with such elegance in his movements that it would make a twi'lek dancer envious. Hasjo became a living, martial hurricane, his body moving in two and three directions at once, joints flexing, unlimited by human vertebral restraints. Hasjo accelerated into a blur of motion complex and rapid. His cerulean lightsaber pike was here, there, everywhere: unpredictable, irresistible. The Nautolan was pure aggression. His face narrowed to a fighting grimace, moving his torso with a boneless agility that seemed impossible for any vertebrae as he unleashed a volley of fast, sporadic attacks in an attempt to overwhelm his defence.
@[member="Darth Ferus"]

((I assume, this thread will be based prior to Hasjo's interrogation? In that case, would it be assumed Ferus remembers / knows Hasjo in the interrogation thread?))

 

[Darth Ferus]

(Aye, that's the plan))

[member="Hasjo Hallu"] would find that the Darth was more then capable in melee. For each beautiful strike the Nautolan let off he offered a simpler solution. Between his armor and his blade he would catch the pike's edge, and Ferus would only feel joy. Battle was his joy, his muse. Through it anything could be told. Through battle two warriors hearts could connect, show the resolve both had for their beliefs. This was no change. For now the two seemed to be equal, he keeping up with Hallu's attacks with his own defense, but that would have to change at some point.

Though his grip on the ground he would cause a tremor, a small earthquake with enough oomph to it to put the Jedi hopefully off balance. With it the Zabrak would change his form, switching from his Soresu to Ataru. Instantly his form would begin leaping around wildly. Cartwheels, front flips, back flips, his form would shoot around his foe in a blur of red, black, and purple hacking with pure enjoyment. Hasjo was good, a formidable opponent, and it only excited the Zabrak, fueling his power, his strength, and his speed.

 

[Lord Gaius]

Hasjo quickly took light hops back at the tremble of the earth, maintaing balance. He switched with absolute fluidity from one form to another. From the unpredictable movements of Shii-Cho to the counter-attacks of Djem So. His legs tightening in the shift. With one sweep of a blade, he would come around with the dual blade in a second-instantous attack. The Lightsaber Pike sharing many similarities with the dual-lightsaber, but one blade was ever so slightly smaller than the other. There was a harmony with the weapon, for he knew exactly where the other was when utilising the other. Allowing for a perfect synchronisation of attacks. As the man perform a series of summersaults, Hasjo would meet the Zabraks blade with his own cerulean plasma, sweeping the other, smaller blade around for a counter-attack. It became a rhythmic dance between the two. A beautiful symphony of clashing blades. Hasjo broke away from the attacks, twirling the Lightsaber Pike between his thick, webbed fingers. It became almost too fast for sense to perceive. The plasma whining loud in the air, almost deafening. His shoulders moved in a pattern, as one raised the other lowered, like the machinery of times past. The Nautolan was clearly a master of the technique Su - that of which he performed now. He was the aspirant Battlemaster of the Silver Order, and Weapons-Master. Trained in unique and foreign combat forms, weaponry and techniques. He turned his back to the Zabrak, bursting into a break-neck sprint towards a wall. The blade continuing to spin as he did so. He reached the wall, and smoothly twisted his torso down, in a way a gymnast might. He kicked his feet off the floor, performing a front flip, yet his feet did not touch the ground. Rather, they slammed against the wall, and kicked off. Power surged through his legs. He came hurtling towards the Zabrak in a self-designed technique. The word for it was in the Nautolan language, but was roughly translated to 'torpedo' in Galactic Basic. Rightfully so. Hasjo's body spun in an almost inhumane way, his entire body spinning with the velocity of his blade before him as he flew through the air towards the Sith. His head-tresses slapping in the wind as the spinning lightsaber barrelled towards [member="Darth Ferus"].

((I'm really sorry if this is hard to understand. I didn't get much sleep last night, I haven't been at home. I'm on a train home atm though. Once again, i'm sorry if it's hard to understand. Just very sleep deprived atm and wrote this to keep me awake.))