The Silver Hawk Knight
Pylon Zerga, Jedi No Longer
BIRTH NAME:Pylon Zerga
MANDALORIAN NAME:Kadika Rhika
CODENAME: The Silver Hawk
FACTION: Mandalorians/ Freelancer
RANK: Bounty Hunter
PREVIOUS AFFILIATIONS: Knight of the Jedi Order, Jedi Shadows Operative
SPECIES: Human
AGE: 28
GENDER: Male
BIRTHPLACE: Vjun
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes
EYES: Grey and Infared (Cybernetic)
HAIR: Black
SKIN: Pale caucasian
HEIGHT: 5",10
WEIGHT: 168 lbs.
DISTINGUISHING MARKS/FEATURES: Several scars littering his body, but nearly none are visable
BITS &PIECES:Custom built Multi-targeting Cybernetic right eye, cybernetic right arm, often wrapped in white medical tape.
CLOTHING/WEAPONS:
CIVILIAN CLOTHES:
-Bantha Hide Black Leather jacket with red Mythosaur Skull on back
-Tactical cargo pants, black
-Fatigue shirts, all black
-Leather Combat boots
-Unorthodox Jedi Robes (in storage), blue and black in color
BESKA'GAM ARMOR:
CHARACTER DESCRIPTION
PERSONALITY: Confident and determined above all else. Constantly challenging himself with more and more difficult tasks, constantly striving for perfection, as if trying to live up to unknown, inhuman level of standards. A strong reputation for capturing dangerous bounties, Pylon prides himself on taking down difficult prey. Always up for a duel, he will often give his prey a "fighting chance", even going so far as to give his bounty a weapon once cornered. Prides himself in his skills of melee combat, boasting that no living soul can trump him in a fair fight.
Now a hardened Mando, Pylon has left behind many of his Jedi teachings and tendencies, though a few old habits still stick. Although now he has developed a dry, obvious sense of humor, he is often stoic and tries to retain his calm demeanor, though is known to lose his calm when the time calls for it. Due to his vow to leave his Jedi life behind, Pylon now only uses the Force as a last resort. Believing that over reliance on the Force as a sign of disrespect and an abuse of power, he will often attempt to use his technology, gadgets, and personal skill and abilities to solve most problems.
Although some would call him fearless, it is clear that he both fears and respects both his wife and Father-in-law, often joking that she is the only person he has ever been afraid of in his entire life. Although more then capable on his own, often turns to Kara for back up in the field, and almost always uses her piloting skills to get across the galaxy.
His reputation throughout the Galaxy, including within the Jedi Order, as a Bounty Hunter have made him grow prideful and confident in his abilities. Often restless and unchallenged by the usual targets he is sent after, Pylon has grown fond of taking on the most dangerous and difficult prey in the Galaxy, specializing in Dark Jedi.
Although adores and believes in the Mando way of life, he is not yet ready to forsake the Jedi like so many of his Clansmen. Despite realizing he is an outcast on both sides, he is determined to find a way to honor both of his families. Despite attempting to keep a low profile, will often take bounties to continue fighting for the Jedi Order.
Statistics
STRENGTHS:
- PHYSICAL:
- Surprisingly strong, due to cybernetic arm and harsh, constant conditioning. While not a brute or a body builder, Pylon has the strength in his remaining left arm that most humans would posses with their entire body. This, in addition to the rest of his body being in peak physical condition, he is a remarkable capable athlete and combatant.
- INTELLIGENCE:
Gifted with exceptional brillance, Pylon has been a Jedi Investigator and secret operative for most of his life. This has transferred well to being a Bounty Hunter, using his rescourcefulness and deductive reasoning to track target across the galaxy. Known for being able to quickly and accurately assess both a situation and subjects, he quickly will work up a plan of attack for any situation. Focusing on Adaptation, Ingenuity, Modifacation, and Improvisation, Pylon is a clever, decietful, and alarmingly creative.
- AGILITY:
Extremly agile and acrobatic, Pylon believes his speed and agility to be his first and last line of attack and defense. Able to both react and adapt to nearly any form of attack, he often uses his felxibility and sudden bursts of speed to gain an advantage on his opponents. When in combat, he is seen as little more then a blue of silver and black, dodging and jumping around the battlefield.
- LEADERSHIP:
As a Jedi Shadow, he was often chosen to lead strike teams against possible threats to the Order. He would always insist on picking the teams, making him an excellent judge of talent and character. Choosing to play to his groups strengths in order to cover their weaknesses, this often resulted in well thought out, intricate plans, always resulting in success. Despite this, Pylon despises the responsibility of authority, simply for the guilt that came when those under his command perished. Although works closely with Kara, often formulating their plans, giving directions and orders when needed, Pylon has not been in a leadership position for some time, and prefers it that way. He is his own boss, and nobody else.
-DUAL WEAPON EXPERT:
-Truly ambidextrous, Pylon can used both sides of his body independently. This allows him to target and attack multiple opponents, or defend from a large amount of assaults. When used in conjunction with the wide array of paired weaponry in Pylon's arsenal, and his preferred combat style, he is a master duelist and deadly combatant.
-TECHNOLOGICAL GENIUS:
From a young age, Pylon has had a deep and innate understanding of technology and machinery, particularly in weapons. A regular savant and tapped to eventually become a Jedi Artisan, Zerga has designed and manufactured most of his own equipment and arsenal. This includes his lightsabers, which are considered masterpieces in terms of construction.
-EXPERT TACTICIAN:
Trained in the art of war from a young age, Zerga has rigorously studied the most famous tacticians of the past and present. Taught to be dedicated to his target, Pylon will often study his targets to the point of obsession, memorizing their weak points and strengths, and even going as far as developing new weaponry to combat them.
-RELENTLESS ASSAULT:
-A skilled combatant, able to quickly overwhelm most opponents with highly unpredictable movements and dual wielding prowess. His large amount of weapons and gadgets are often enough to take on most situations. Ruthless and persistent about completing a task, will often stop at nothing to bring both Sith and Criminal to Justice.
-PROFESSIONAL ACROBAT
From constant practice and a lifetime of experince, Pylon has trained his body to perform amazing feats of athleticism and acrobatics. One would say he feels more at home spinning and falling through the air than with his feet on the ground. From his dedication to the Lightsaber Form IV Ataru, and intense rigorous training through many sources, Zerga has proven to be able to perform even the most difficult of aerial movements, truly earning his moniker of The Silver Hawk.
WEAKNESSES:
Atrophied Attunement:
-Due to long time refusal to use the Force, Pylon's signature and overall ability to call upon the Force has severaly weakened. Upon first glance by any Force-User, he would appear to be no more powerful then a Padawan, though this is mostly due to his constant repressing. Tending to focus more on the physical side of combat to beat his opponents, Pylon's overall Force abilities are limited, mostly only extending to channeling the Force through his body.
Infamous Piloting:
Despite being an almost perfect soldier, Pylon has a glaring lack of ability in piloting. He is such a terrible pilot that he is actully banned from flying into several spaceports. His wife, Kara, often teases him about this, and insist that he have her fly to all of his missions.
Dual Weapon Dependency:
His skill in using two weapons, one in each hand, has forced him to grow reliant on such techniques. If disarmed of one weapon, his overall ability with the remaining weapon will be weakened. Though this rarely happens, he is aware of his dependency on gadgets.
Over Attatchment:
The most prominent weakness he faces now, if his attachment to his wife. Losing Kara is one thing he fears most, and will stop at nothing to keep her safe. Although well aware she does not need protecting he will often go to great lengths to keep her out of harms way, becoming extremely brutal and violent if she is threatened. This rage and ferocity is the exact reason that he left the Jedi Order, feeling he would welcome the "weakness" of his over-attachment to her.
Origins and Birth:
On the busy planet of Corucant, the Jedi ruled from their Temple, working as Peace Keepers for the Galaxy. Among the finest of these Jedi, were Vict Zerga and Enzeru Tawkashi. Vict was a Jedi Shadow, and irrefutably one of the best there was. When he took Enzeru as a Padawan, there was no doubt that the two would do great things. For decades they worked together, hunting down practitioners of the Dark Side of the Force and dispatching them with great efficiency and prejudice. They were true heroes and champions of the Order, striking down the tendrils of evil, wherever they rose, keeping Balance within the Galaxy.
But even the greatest men can fall.
Some years after Enzeru achieved the rank of Jedi Knight, Vict was dispatched to the planet Vjun to meet with and investigate a Viscountess, suspected of dabbling in the Dark Arts. It was a mission he would never return from. The Viscountess, by the name of Siya Shiimo, was in fact trying her hand in the Dark Side of the Force, and proving to be quite powerful. The natural Dark Side energy of the planet, fueled by her own innate abilities, turned Siya into a cunning and powerful warrior, and, despite no formal training, was able to overpower and capture Master Zerga.
He was treated not as a prisoner, but as a guest of honor. He was given proper food and shelter, and could even walk amongst the Manor unattended. He knew, however, that Siya's intentions were far from innocent. She poisoned his mind with her honeyed words, slowly twisting his memories while he slept. Soon Vict began to question everything he had ever known. For over six months, Vict was held captive to the Viscountess, unable to escape her clutches, holding out the entire time for rescue from the Jedi Order. But when rescue never came, Viscountess Shiimo began to look less of his capture and more like his savior. His patience grew into unease, and his unease into frustration. His frustration grew to anger, and his anger turned to hatred. To him, the Jedi had forsaken him, while Siya showed him only care and affection. That was the day Vict Zerga turned his back on the Jedi Order-- and surrendered himself to the Viscountess's will.
Siya took the fallen Jedi as a lover, and eventually, husband. With him at her side, Siya had both the knowledge and power to become a force to be reckoned with. She became pregnant, with the intention to raise their son to be powerful enough to rise up and destroy the Jedi and everything they believed in.
When the Jedi finally received news of both Siya's dark plot and Vict's cooperation, they knew they had to act. Though they had failed Master Zerga, if the Viscountess had been allowed to give birth and raise her child in the Dark Side of the Force, then the dreaded return of the Sith would be upon them. There was only one man skilled and experienced enough to both rescue Zerga and defeat Shiimo, without alerting the Galaxy to their own grievous oversight. Vict's own apprentice, Enzeru Tawkashi.
Under the cover of night, Enzeru infiltrated Shiimo Manor, finding his former mentor and friend while Siya was in childbirth. To his own disbelief and horror, Vict did not look upon him with the same warm, kind gaze he had known all his life, but one of burning hatred. Before Enzeru could reason with him, Vict attacked the Jedi Shadow with full intent to kill his former friend.
In a long and tiring battle, Zerga took Enzeru's left eye, filling the halls with screams of pain. All seemed lost, but before the final blow was struck, Enzeru found new resolve. He knew that his Master was beyond redemption, that his friend was long dead, and this man before him was little more then a broken shell of his former self. If he could not redeem his Master, he would at least release him. In a blur of light, Enzeru was on his feet, with his lightsaber through Vict's chest, pinning him to the wall. With his dying breath, Vict looked to Enzeru to whisper one simple sentence: "Teach him well."
As his friend and mentor fell dead at his feet, Enzeru gathered his remaining strength to confront the dark Viscountess Siya Shiimo. What he found instead though, was a weakened, frightened, and exausted woman, clutching her newborn son for dear life. She begged for mercy, for forgiveness and a second chance...But Enzeru was fresh out of mercy.
It was not a battle--It was an execution. As Tawkashi brought his saber down on the woman's neck, she let out a single, sobbing word: "Pylon."
As he pulled the crying, screaming infant from his dead mother's arms, Enzeru starred at him with his one, remaining eye. A realization washed over him, a sort of resolution. It was Vict's last request that his son be taught by Enzeru, as Vict had taught him. He would raise the boy to be more then his father, to fulfill their destiny to bring Balance to the Force.
At that moment Enzeru truly believed, Pylon Zerga was the last, best hope for the Galaxy.
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Youngling years:
Pylon was raised in the Jedi Order, raised as all younglings were. He was unaware of his birth and heritage. The Jedi Council found it preferable to wait until the boy was older until he would be told the truth. Though strictly trained and drilled, he was treated no differently by the Masters and Instructors then they would any other Padawan. His peers were different however. It was not uncommon for them to mock Pylon, criticize him or pick fights with him. It was nothing to do with him--Pylon was a very nice boy who enjoyed studying and playing with friends. It was something else--the children just feared him. Some remarked that it was his eyes--they were cold and steely, almost inhumane. This hardened Pylon, however did not break him. He simply grew to enjoy the company of the Masters and Instructors rather then his own peers. He was however, a bit of a trouble maker and had an ever present problem with authority. He had a tendency to ask why, or whats the point, to even the most average tasks. He had few friends, though this did not seem to bother him much. He was a skilled combatant, besting every Youngling in his pod, and proved to be a brilliant student. There was no question weather he would be asked to be a Padawan. The only question was-- "By Who?".
This question was longingly debated. Anytime a Knight or Master Stood up to take the challenge of training the Son of Master Vict Zerga, another one would point out their flaws. There was fear in the boy, that much was certain, but more fear in the Order.The Council chamber was filled with bickering for days on end.
It seemed as if every member able to take an Apprentice stepped forward. A large number even offered boosting their current Padawans to Knights, in order to train the boy themselves. The boy was only and 10 and every member saw the potential in him. The Council noticed only one did not offer to train him. The one who stood against the wall of the circular chambers with his hood up, not saying anything.
Master Enzeru Tawkashi.
This was expected though. He had never taken an apprentice, despite being of over 40 years of age and being a Jedi Master. He was a thin man with a blackened goatee, fit enough to have bulging muscles if he wore anything except a Jedi Tunic. Enzeru was of Echani origin, opting to be alone. He was the who raided the Shiimo Castle, leaving him with a missing eye he preferred to keep an eye-patch over it rather then get a cyber-optic replacement. He was known as being the first line of offense on any high ranking mission. He rivaled other Masters for the title of Grand Weapons Master. He was quiet, however to the point, and kept his distance from nearly everyone. He was both an ever present force, and a overpowering being at the same time.
The masters knew what was on the man's mind. He cleared his throat, silencing the rabble of the other Jedi. When Enzeru spoke, others listened. Even the Grand Master. "I will take him." He announced, matter-of-factly. Though none would VOICE their denials or objections, Enzeru could read it on their faces and breath in the air. Without being prompted, he filled the silence. "The boy has potential to be the greatest Jedi this Order has ever seen. So did I. He has a small problem with authority? So do I." Enzeru didn't talk. He stated. "I am the best fighter. So is he. He needs a strong figure in his life, but one who understands him and can guide him in the proper ways of the Force. I can do that. He is the only one out of any of the pods in decades that i have taken an interest in. His father gave me this..." He raised his hand and touched the edge of the eye patch, which a long burnt scar extended from. A shudder went through the room.
"I have never in my life wanted to train anyone. This is true. I do not take apprentices." He stated."But this boy will not be any another Jedi. He will be my Padawan. He will protect whats right, defend justice, take a stand when others are afraid to do so. He is made and destined for great things. We all know this. It is only Fitting that someone who was their for his birth, is there for his training. I will mold him. I will shape him. I will craft him into a warrior of the Light side. A Jedi Shadow."
"We give you permission to train the boy, Master Enzeru Tawkashi."
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Teenage Years
And So it was. Enzeru trained Pylon from that day forward. In everything. Not just the Jedi order. The way of life, combat, weapons, even Pylon's own history. The way he saw it, he explained, was that if Pylon was not told sooner rather then later about his past, when it caught up to him, it would kill him. At first, Pylon was in shock. His Father was a Fallen Jedi? His Mother, a Viscountess of Vjun hellbent on destroying the Jedi Order? Enzeru explained to him though, that this was not anything a Jedi should worry themselves over. Jedi rarely knew their parents. It took Pylon a while to accept this, although he finally did. "One's origins matter little. It is what one does with one's life that people remember." Enzeru had explained.
Enzeru and Pylon went on a great deal of missions together. Enzeru was the Jedi's liaison to the Republic Security Force, and often they were assigned to hunt down dangerous criminals and assist in hostage rescues, where Pylon learned the basics of cleaning, arming, aiming, and shooting blaster weapons. Additionally, Enzeru was sent to far-out worlds as a diplomat for the Republic, such as Kashyyyk, where he helped the Wookiees establish themselves on Alaris Prime, Rattatak, where he helped negotiate a truce between the rival warlords, and Manaan, where he negotiated for the continuing export of kolto for those unable to take bacta due to allergies, and also for the continuing research and development of synthesized kolcta. Enzeru might have been a maverick among the Order, but nobody could deny the impact of his work that contributed the everlasting positive reputation of the Jedi Order.
Enzeru was a kind but strict teacher. He claimed to have never taken an apprentice before Pylon, so young Zerga felt privileged. The training with Enzeru was very reigned. Pylon was taught not only how to be a Jedi, but to be a leader, something both he and Enzeru cared greatly about.
It was not long till the young Padawan was instructed in Enzeru's specialty style of lightsaber combat--a mix between Form Vi Jar'Kai dual wielding, Form IV Ataru, and Form II Makashi. It was difficult-- to have to focus all ones attention on both sides of the body, making note and remembrance of every step and move there was. Master Tawkashi promised, however, if Pylon could master this style, the rest would be a breeze.
Tawkashi was occasionally tough with Pylon. If it took him too long to learn a move or technique, he was drilled on it until his body ached. "An amateur practices until he can get it right. A professional practices until he can't get it wrong." Tawkashi scolded.
Pylon, learning and mastering, realizing to himself why no student was ever taught by Master Tawkashi; it would have been too hard on anyone else. Despite this, however, it was clear Pylon deeply cared for an loved Enzeru. He never argued with him, tried his best to please him, and did anything he could to make him smile. Pylon knew Enzeru's habits perfectly. When he scratched his beard it meant he was deep in thought. That a pair of relaxed half opened eyes meant he was called before the Council. That if the slightest twinge or facial twitch appeared on his face, it meant he was angry or disappointed. No matter how much Enzeru drilled him, Pylon loved him. He was Master.
As promised, Enzeru had turned Pylon into a weapon of the Light. A Paladin. A Champion. A Jedi.
-------
Years After Pylon made his lightsabers, he was continuously trained by Enzeru daily, learning more and more, easier and easier. It wasn't long until Master Tawkashi started training Pylon in far greater and more difficult way of the Jedi. To become a Shadow. A path only a few select Jedi are called to, hunting down the Dark Side of the Force, in all of its forms, all across the Galaxy. The time of Pylon's diplomacy work was done. In Enzeru's mind it was time for the boy to embrace his destiny.
Enzeru knew that Pylon was gaining speed as a Padawan. He had assisted Enzeru on countless missions, saved each others lives numerous times, and knew what needed to be done. They were becoming more like brothers the older Pylon got. They often spoke of things such as Force and whether or not the Jedi Council was right in matters. Pylon was now growing into himself. He no longer had his girlish voice, as it had dropped, and there was even a noticeable amount of hair growing on his face. Enzeru was proud to call him his Padawan.
With the Reemergence of the Sith, however, war was an ever growing possibility, and as Enzeru had always planned, it was time for Pylon to become the warrior he truly deserved.
"Pylon, what are the Four Trials?" He asked Zerga one day as they walked through the Jedi Temple. "Trial of Skill, Trial of Flesh, Trial of Courage, and the Trial of Insight." he answered, quickly and clearly, not requiring time to think. Though Pylon was quite the talker and conversationalist, anytime Enzeru asked a question, he always gave a short and perfect answer.
"Yes. You are correct. As usual. And as usual, you will pass these tests with as much grace, chivalrous, noneffective attempts to be seem like you accept the causes at the end of the day, as I had to fake. Listen to me, Son." He lowered his head a bit, his hand reached out and firmly and lightly patting him on the shoulder. That was all the physical praise Pylon ever got from his Master. A firm hand on the shoulder, the feeling of a Father hugging his son. Enzeru had held him as a child. Taught him everything he knew. He was the only father he ever knew.."
"Master? The Knighthood Trials? I'm only Eighteen!" he protest. Enzeru put a hand up in defense. Pylon stopped immediately. He was trained to never question Enzeru. Period. His order was not just law, it was the only way to keep on living. To conquer fear. To command you body to become one with the Force, and with perfect motivation and precise movements, defy his normal ability. If his Master
"Your the most advanced student of your pod, and of any pod I have seen, respectively. I have brought my opinion to the Council--"
"Which you always seem to do"
"And they have agreed with me. Based on how well you complete your next mission, you will be given the 'Go-Ahead' for the trials. Pylon, the life of a Jedi Shadow is not one to be taken lightly, as you well know. It can cost you everything. You have to sacrifice and suffer, more then any Jedi-- any person should! The Dark Side is a cancerous plague, growing, killing, and destroying anything that it's within reach. We as Jedi keep the peace. We keep the darkness at bay by holding the torches on the darkest nights. Sometimes we give far more then what is asked of us..." With this moment, Enzeru touched his eyepatch. The last remaining mark from Lord Pirianis. A man he owed his exsistance to, and hated with all his might. Master Enzeru stood and turned heel to toe and walk down to his quarters, calling out to Pylon with one more order
"Now, gather your gear. We leave in the morning. And you might as well kiss that little braid good-bye, Knight."
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The mission was a simple one. Protect a freight ship in space, carrying a large shipment of precious metals, including Electrum and Phrik. Due to the expensive quality of these materials, the Jedi team was sent to body guard, in case of smugglers or pirates attacks. Pylon and Enzeru sat back in their uncomfortable seats, Pylon fiddling with his safety harness and Enzeru not wearing it at all. Pylon adjusted the Jedi utility belt, which held a great number of things, including a set of holsters for his pair of twin DC-15s Side Arm Blaster Pistols, which also strapped to his leg. His Lightsabers were stored behind him in a curved X on his tail bone, underneath a black kama he wore, in order to keep the precious weapons away from peering eyes, and to give Pylon the element of surprise when drawn.
"Master, i still don't think--" Pylon began. It had been a while since they had first brought up the trials. "Don't think, feel." Enzeru corrected him. Pylon sighed. It wasn't that he didn't believe he wouldn't make a good Jedi Knight, it was that he still felt there was so much Master Enzeru could teach him. So much he didn't understand. Enzeru however, laid back calmly in his seat, meditating of some sort, his eyes closed. "Your a much greater Jedi then i could ever hope to be, Pylon. You have waited for this, it is time you take whats yours." He told him.
The pilot for the freighter was a elderly Twi'lek male with razor sharp pointy teeth. Pylon tried not to look him in the eye much, and instead preferred to just allow his master to speak for him. He wouldn't get that privilege for very much longer if he was truly promoted. The Twi'lek stayed quiet most of the ride, only laughing a bit when Pylon and Enzeru argued.
Time ticked by, mostly due to boredom. "Master, i was wondering what is the--" he stopped and lifted his head in the air as if a nexu smelling meat. "What was that?" He asked. Enzeru's eyes opened and he stood up, drawing his lightsaber "I felt it too." A Disturbance in the Force.
Without warning, the freighter shook violently, tossing Enzeru to the ground from the loss of balance. Pylon unbuckled his safety harness, standing up and grabbing Enzeru's forearm, pulling him to his feet. They both knew what was coming. Again, the freighter shook, but this time, they braced for it and were prepared.
"We have a breach in the cargo hold!" the pilot yelled, grunting slightly at each shock wave of the ship. "Lock it down! Try to fly straight as possible. We'll deal with this." Enzeru ordered. The Twi'lek obeyed as the pair ran down to the cargo bay.
The cause of the breach was a Sith boarding party, lead by none other then a Sith-Acolyte Assassin known as Ravage. A towering man of over 6 and a half feet, wielding a massive Lightclub, an over-sized lightsaber. His most noticeable feature was a respirator mask that gave him a ghostly and nearly inhumane look. He stood, gripping the handle of his Lightclub, cloak amplifying both his figure and shoulders with additional shoulder armor. "Secure the materials! I want this done quick!" he ordered the boarding party, a few inexperienced troopers. Their own outfits much less appealing, they seemed to be hired grunts.
The cargo bay was but an average sized hold, about the size of a Courscant apartment,running the full length of the ship, filled nearly completely with bolted and strapped down cases of freight. It was completely streamlined, sides from a single escape pod and its control functions. A member of the boarding party approached a crate, slicing the holding straps with a vibro-blade. "CRNCH!" He went flying against a crate behind him, pulled by an unseen lasso, an audible snap echoing the bay. The rest of the Boarding team's heads spun towards the doorway to the cockpit. Pylon's extended hand lowered as a smile rose on his face. "Lets try this again, shall we? Why don't, you ASK for the stuff, and then shoot you out into space? Better to ask for things, before taking them." He mocked. Enzeru raised a hand, lifting the boarding team into the air, the Mammoth Sith excluded, and tossed them in different directions. "Now now Pylon, we can't insist our teachings on ignorant scum. It would be wasted." he joked. Tawkashi turned his attention to "Darth" Ravage " Turn home Sith." Enzeru warned. Tawkashi and Zerga ignited their lightsabers, illuminating the darkly lit area.
"Twice the Pride....Double the Fall" the Sith spoke, his voice mechanized and emotionless. He ignited his own Greatsaber, its length reaching over 2.5 meters. Pylon raised an eyebrow, slowly started to circle around the Sith,while Enzeru kept his attention in the front. They showed no fear at all. The Sith lowered his stance, spacing his legs apart past shoulder-length, taking an extremely low stance, his blade anglepoise at about 45 degrees. Pylon realized the first move if the Sith was a chance between three possibilities. The first, a wide swing, spinning around to attempt to slice both Enzeru and Pylon in half. The second, a low thrust, attempting to slide the the tip of the massive blade closer, if not right underneath Enzeru, then quickly springing it up, slicing him up the middle. The final, the least likely, he would spring it up at its current position, swing it backwards behind him to hit Zerga, opening the entire height of his body to Tawkashi, before at tempting to be bring it down on the Master.
The attempt was the second. The Behemoth struck out at Tawkashi, sliding the tip of his lightsaber along the bulkhead floor. Enzeru no doubt realized the same thing Pylon did before the Sith even moved. Quickly, Tawkashi took his reversed grip style stance, and shot his arm down to guard his legs, the length of his own lightsaber horizontal to his body. His enemies blade was pinned to the ground, leaving a brightly glowing red hot line marking the trail it took to reach its current position, locked down against Enzeru's own blade. Ravage looked up and appeared shocked. Though the Jedi was muscular, it was impossible he could out strong arm the enormous Sith; and yet his Greatsaber could not move! Enzeru noticed this and grinned "Having trouble there?" he asked in a sly and mocking tone.
Ravage let out a loud, hate filled mechanized roar, gripping the handle of his lightsaber with both massive claws, and in a feat of strength, shot Enzeru up like a catapult, sending him flying to the ceiling. Enzeru simply allowed this to happen, assisting the lift with a small spring of Force Jump, in order to prevent his guard from being broken. With assistance from the Force, Enzeru held onto the ceiling, crouched down on it as if it were the floor. With his free hand, he sent out a powerful wave of energy down directly on the Sith's head, forcing him to his knees.
This was Pylon's chance. He sprung forward from behind the Sith, both lightsabers ready to cut off the warrior's arms. However, an unexpected boot met Pylon's gut. Like a horse startled from behind, the Inquisitor shot out a large, buck like kick, catching Pylon off guard. He let out a shocked moan with the little air left in his lungs, before behind shot back towards the bulkhead. The Sith got back to his feet and looked up to see Enzeru springing down on him, blade out to attempt and swipe down on him.
It was foiled, however, as Ravage reached up and grabbed Enzeru around the wrist, just below his lightsaber's hilt. Showing the massive power of the Sith, he flung Enzeru down on the metal chassis ground, a loud and hollow bang of metal echoing through the hold,accompanied by Enzeru's screams.
Pylon got back to his feet after huffing some recycled air into his lungs, and as Ravage began cracking down on Enzeru's arm with his massive claw, an obvious attempt to crush the Master's arm. Pylon drew one of his blaster and let out a rapid fire burst of bolts, aimed at the Sith. The Sith quickly let go of Enzeru, sun around and blocked the several bolt blasts. Pylon ran forward toward the defending titan, reigniting his lightsabers after quickly holstering the DC-15s's. A quick flurry of horizontal swipes. The massive Greatsaber, however, was far too powerful for Pylon to knock back or break through.
Ravage blocked each of Pylon's swipes, letting out a small electronic chuckle. The young padawan's brow twitched in an obvious sign of frustration. Pylon's method was made up of quick and elegant slashes in quick succession. He lacked in power, due to his strength being divided between his two sabers. He realized that attacking the Sith head on was both pointless and foolishly tiring. Strafing around to the right the Sith, Pylon attack with his left, then would parry or guard with his right, then alternate, until Pylon's back was facing the door way of the cockpit.
Enzeru was sprawled out on the ground, cradling his arm close to his body. It was clearly injured, most likely many of the muscles ripped and torn. There was time to worry about that later though. He stood up and grabbing his lightsaber with his uninjured hand. It wasn't his strong hand, but it would have to do. He stood and ran towards the Sith currently engaging his Padawan.
Pylon ducked and dodged each of the Sith's swings, knowing any attempt to block them would be pointless. That Lightclub was just too powerful. It gave the user both the ability to put his full force and weight into each swing, but the power to overload an opponents lightsabers if they held contact for too long. It had drawbacks though. The swings were slow and tiring. Pylon could easily jump back and dodge them, however, he had to clear the two and a half meters of the Greatsaber each time.
Another swing, Pylon jumped back avoiding the tip of the blade. He however, had met his last stretch of path. His heel hit the edge of the stair. Now was his chance. He grabbed the edge of the doorway with both hands, pulling himself forward, throwing his headback, putting himself into a back-flip. He hit the Sith right under the jaw, sending him stumbling back. Pylon started unleashing a flurry of attacks on Ravage, who struggled to defend by them. Suddenly a bright blue beam shot through the back of the Sith, who let out a loud growl of pain.
Enzeru was up. He shot himself into the back of the Sith in a powerful tackle, hitting the mountainous opponent. Enzeru turned the Sith around, getting between him and Pylon, who was obviously out of breath. Enzeru stayed behind the Sith before shoving him forward, his lightsaber sliding out of him. The wound was made dead center of Darth Ravage, which would have killed a weaker man.
The Sith was then given a ruthless assault. First, he was disarmed. Enzeru pinned the Sith's Lightclub, and then kicked his wrist, forcing Ravage to drop it. The Lightclub dis-activated due to lack of pressure on the handle, which Pylon quickly pulled over to him and belted. Enzeru then dealt Ravage a backhand slap to the face, an echo of flesh on the metallic respirator. Tawkashi was a master combat specialist. Each move he made was only to be followed up by a even more painful one.
As Ravage was sent into a spin, he was given another two agonizing slashes by the tip of Enzeru's lightsaber, across his back and thigh. Enzeru then used a full body forced push kick, putting his foot in-front of him then pressing forward, sending Ravage stumbling toward the wall of the cargo bay. Enzeru spun his lightsaber in a quick circle before holding it in his usual reverse style stance. He pushed his hand forward, fingers expanded. A powerful strike sent the Dark One crashing into the wall, defeated and panting for breath.
Enzeru grinned before popping his neck and rubbed his injured arm. "How bad?" Pylon asked as he move forward to Enzeru, standing by his side. "Torn ligaments; it was the rag doll move that got me. Hurts bad. The Healers should be able to handle it though..." he explained. "You?" "A cracked rib or two...having some trouble breathing. Him?" Pylon asked, motioning towards the crushed Dark One. Enzeru's lightsaber was still humming, apparently begging for blood. "Dead." he told Pylon simply.
Pylon walked over to the escape pod, preparing to jettison the soon to be executed Sith. Ravage was still rested against the wall, a large indention made into the wall.Both Pylon and Enzeru had the same understanding-- Ravage was too dangerous to be left alive. If he recovered during the trip, he would no doubt overpower the Master and Apprentice.
Enzeru stood a few meters away from Ravage. "May the Force Be with you..." he whispered. He ran forward and jumped into the air, lifting his lightsaber over his head and about to bring it down on the defeated Sith. As Enzeru closed in, Pylon noticed a small silver flash by Ravage's hands--A lightsaber!
Pylon's mouth opened in a scream but nothing came out. It was too late. A crimson red blade ripped through Enzeru's chest, his mouth forming a perfect 'O'. "NOOOO!" Pylon screamed out, his voice shaking the very walls of the entire freighter. Ravage grabbed Enzeru's neck, choking him and then suddenly, shoving the blade even deeper. Tawkashi gasped in pain for air, raising his hand and sending a powerful Force Push into Pylon, sending the Padawan into the prepped escape pod. "Master, no!" were Pylon's only words he was able to shout before the hatch closed. He fought and slammed against the bulkhead door, shouting and screaming at the top of his lungs as he watched Enzeru being chucked across the freighter, only to be caught mid-air to be thrown again by the Force. The Sith's mechanical, haunting laughter seemed to fill all of Space, taking a sickening pleasure in tormenting the defeated Jedi.
Pylon pulled out his lightsaber in preparation to cut through the escape pod doors, before he was filed with the familiar sense of complete obedience, as his Master's voice echoed through the small pod. "No, Pylon! Run. You can't save me now. You must walk a different path.". It wasn't a moment later that the pod jettisoned from the freighter, sending him floating into the cold emptiness of Space.
The Freighter soon exploded, Pylon witnessing from afar with tears in his eyes. Choking back his sadness, young Zerga dropped to his knees in the escape pod, whispering softly to himself,
"Master.."
--------
Pylon went into a deep depression. His beloved Master dead, he delivered the news to the Council, along with the report of the mission. Though it was not successful, the Jedi realized that it was beneficial that the Sith Follower did not obtain the materials.
Pylon stood in the middle of the Jedi Council chambers, the elders gathered around him. "It is a tragedy about Master Enzeru Tawkashi, Young Padawan Zerga...We regret to hear this news..... We feel for your loss." The Grand Master began, lowering his head in a respectful manner. Pylon's head was still bowed, and he knelt upon the floor, in a lieu of respect, but deep down, in torment. The Council's words fell on his deaf ears. He however, hid his emotions well. Enzeru had taught him that...
"However, in light of your bravery, skill, dedication, and sacrifice, shown in your past mission, the Council here by grants upon you the rank of Jedi Knight." Pylon's head shot up. "W-what?" He asked, in sudden disbelief. "Masters, i failed the mission! My Master is dead! How did i show bravery!? How did i show skill?! I..I..I" he stuttered, tears rising in his eyes, his voice quaking and quivering. He cleared his throat and bowed his head. "Forgive me. Master Enzeru is part of the Living Force now. I will not mourn him. I will not miss him. That is the Jedi way." Pylon spoke calmly. He could act when he had to. "Thank you Masters, for the honor of this Rank...I shall not let you all down. May the Force Be with you." He said and bowed before backing out of the room gracefully. He couldn't keep from crying for long.
The Grandmaster nodded his head again sadly. The pain in the boy would simmer, hopefully. "May the Force Be With You, Pylon Zerga...May the Force be with us all..."
------------
Adulthood
Going quickly back to work, following in his Master's footsteps, Pylon became a Jedi Shadow for the Order, making it his life's mission to hunt down and destroy the Sith and all of their followers. He learned what Enzeru had truly meant all those years ago. The sacrifice, the anger, the confusion of what to do, but still having to put on the faced of knowledge and tranquility.
Hunting down Sith and the Dark Side was the same as starring into the Abyss. Soon, the Abyss stares back at you.
Pylon had grown into a man during his time as a Knight. He had to leave the bliss and reassuring knowledge of simply following Master Tawkashi's orders, and learn to act on his own. To make the tough moral decisions he was sparred from as a Padawan. He would remember every one of them.
Every time he had to pick saving the Galaxy over saving one. Every mother's tears as she begged you to bring her son back to life. Every father's last request that you bring their son home to them. Every failure--every victory came with a cost. Soon, the Sith claimed even more from him then he thought possible.
After two years of being a Shadow, Pylon had suffered a crippling blow from a Sith Acolyte on Felucia. After finally finding the Dark Side Adept, the two battled on the Jungle's surface for what seemed like days. As skilled a duelist as Zerga was himself, the Acolyte eventually took Pylon's right eye. In a rage of fury and pain, Pylon defeated the Acolyte, striking him down in a flurry of blows.
At age 21, Pylon truly did resemble his Master. Choosing to style his facial hair after his late Teacher's goatee and beard, and his single missing eye, it seemed as if Zerga was trying his best to become the man's heir. Leaving rather large shoes to fill, it required everything of him to complete one mission after another, never giving himself time to rest.
In his quest for vengeance, Pylon began to question his life with the Jedi. The constant battle of the Sith. The temptation of the Dark Side and all it's followers. It soon seemed as if there was no end to it. A Sith would rise up, claiming ultimate power, cause death, destruction, and misery anywhere they went, then the Jedi would dispatch Pylon to snuff them out, only for two others to take their place. It seemed as it it was a never ending cycle, that would eventually lead up to Zerga's own death. Although he accepted this, he slowly began to grow resentful of the Jedi way that required so much, yet gave so little.
It was on his final mission, however, that Pylon was asked to sacrifice even more for a life he never chose. Finally, after years of hiding, Pylon learned that the self-proclaimed "Darth Ravage" had resurfaced, heading to the planet Mandalore where he was attempting to gather followers. There was no question in the Council's mind as to who to send. The young Shadow was given a mission and strike team to lead an assault on Ravage's flagship as it entered the planet's orbit. With three other experienced Knights at his side, Pylon would finally avenge his Master's death.
With the element of surprise on their side, the Strike Team fought their way onto Ravage's ship, meeting the towering and massive Sith Lord in the control room. Ravage almost seemed to grin at the sight of the Pylon, holding his lightsabers at the ready.
"If it isn't the little whelp. Come to join your Master in death, have you? I look forward to watching you cower in death, just as he did." The behemoth cackled behind his respirator, clenching his lightsaber in hand.
Pylon burned with anger at the Sith's mocking tone. He rushed in, sabers slashing and striking at Ravage's defenses. The other Jedi circled the massive enemy, striking out at him with poise and precise movements, to no avail. The experienced Sith was more then a match for the four Knights, meeting every one of their strikes with a perfect block, only to knock them back with the Force. The battle raged on as the ship began to buck and shake as it entered the atmosphere. Ravage had become a far more skilled combatant then before, and it wasn't long until he had struck down the other three Jedi, leaving only Pylon and himself to continue the battle.
Though Pylon fought with all of his might and skill, Ravage was simply too strong. Even without his signature greatsaber, he was able to keep Pylon reeling from his massive attacks. The pair fought for what seemed like ages in silence, until their sabers locked in a stalemate.
"You have hatred. You have anger. Fury. Passion. All of the makings of a true Sith. But you do not use them!" He growled as he pushed Pylon back. The young Jedi snarled in frustration, doing his best to ignore the Sith's taunts. He would not stand to listen to the very man who took Enzeru from him.
Pylon rushed at Ravage again, jumping and flipping through the air to strike at him from above, landing behind him to spin and swing both his sabers at his opponent's massive body. His blades were effortlessly met with Ravage's single blade, before his right wrist was clenched in a cold, vice-like grip. The red blade of Ravage's lightsaber spun and cleaved through Pylon's arm at the shoulder, causing him to yell out and howl in pain.
Ravage pushed the injured Zerga into the wall of the bulkhead, bending and warping the metal around his body. With Pylon only able to look on in horror as he gripped his smoldering shoulder, Ravage peeled the cold, lifeless fingers of his severed arm off of the hilt of his lightsaber, inspecting it in his gloved hands.
"An impressive weapon, Jedi. It shall be an excellent addition to my collection." The man hissed, pulling back his long robes to reveal an arsenal of lightsabers hooked onto his belt. Upon closer inspection, Pylon's eyes widened at the sight of a familiar short, black and white taped hilt-- Master Enzeru Tawkashi's lightsaber.
Pylon cursed under his breath, his head growing light as he fought off the urge to howl in pain or fall into shock. Ravage let out a long, bellowing laughter, raising his arm up casually to summon the other three fallen Jedi's lightsabers, each one hooking themselves on his belt.
"You fought valiantly, Little Jedi. A worthy battle, your Master would have been proud...But now you will die by my hand, just as he did."
Pylon's burning desire began to fade and he lowered his head as the Sith moved in closer to him, his left hand still gripping Pylon's precious, curve-hilted lightsaber. As Ravage raised his arm, about deliver the killing blow, a sny, small smile crossed Pylon's lips.
When Ravage fingered the small, single obsidian button on the back of its spine, instead of the low, perfect hum of the blade springing to life, the ship was filled with his loud, electric scream in pain as several blades shot out of the handle, slicing the unassuming Darth's hand to pieces. With his enemy injured and distracted, Pylon sprang into action. He jumped to his feet and over the Sith Lord's head, catching his disarmed saber mid-air with the Force, landing behind Ravage, dashing forward to slam his saber all the way to the hilt through the behemoths chest and armor, pinning him to the crushed wall.
In a growl of anger and fury, Pylon began sending wave after wave of Force energy into Ravage's back, pushing him into the damaged hull even further. With his hand still tightly gripping his saber, Pylon gave one final thrust forward into Ravage's howling frame, before a groan of metal echoed, the hull of the ship ripping apart where the duo were locked.
The pair was suddenly sucked out of the ship and into the Mandalore sky, free falling through the loud, rushing wind. Pylon still clung tightly to Ravage, however, holding his lightsaber firmly in his chest, who still growled and fought violently to try and grab the small Jedi on his back. No matter the cost, Pylon would see this man dead!
As they plunged towards the planet's surface, Pylon's eyes began to close, and his focus began to fade. The last thing he could remember was the smooth, glittering surface of a large lake, and then being engulfed in water, as he slipped slowly into unconsciousness
----
"NO!" Pylon yelled out as he shot up in bed, reaching out to strike the phantoms of his nightmares. What he saw instead, however, was a beautiful girl, with pale, perfect skin, and long white hair. She tilted her head at him, a gentle, happy smile crossing her lips as her light, colorless eyes pierced his very soul.
"So you're awake. I knew you would live. You jetii are hard to kill." She chuckled, gently putting a small, cool hand on his bare chest, easing him back into the bed. The girl lifted up a large leather water skin to his lips, giving him a drink of much needed refreshment.
Pylon laid there in disbelief of many things. That he was alive. Where he was, who this girl was that was taking care of him? Why did his arm hurt so-- his arm! He turned to look down at his right shoulder, to see white cloth bandages covering the stump where his arm used to have been. It all started to come back to him. The ship, the other Jedi, Darth Ravage, the plummet to the surface. The Force taking over his body to put him into a deep, paralyzing stasis.
"Where is he..?" Pylon whispered hoarsely, looking to the young girl for answers. She tilted her head at him before giving him a stern and fierce look. "You mean the other Jetii? Contained. Don't worry about that, you need to--"
"I need to finish him off!" He growled, trying to lift himself up again only to be met by the girl's strong hand pushing him back down to the bed.
"You need to lay here and rest before you run off to die! You want your revenge? Fine! You'll get it, trust me, but only once you've recovered. I didn't take care of you for three weeks to let you rip your wounds open again just because you got some score to settle! Now lay down!" She scowled, her voice carrying the same type of command and care as Pylon had grown up with.
The girl soon explained her name was Kara Rikha, and her father, Deccan was the leader of the Mandalorian clan that had found both Zerga and Ravage, washed up on shore. They were both outfitted with a Force-Restraint collar, with Ravage being under constant guard and surveillance.
"It was Father's idea to just shoot you both and be done with it. I talked him out of it." Kara explained, feeding Pylon some sort of broth by hand like a child. Normally he would have complained or fought against her, being patronized like an invalid, but for some reason, this Mandalorian woman was showing him care, affection, and concern, on a level he had never felt before.
For the first time in his life, Pylon felt love.
Over the next week, Kara and Pylon shared stories of bravery, chivalry, adventure, and loss. He told her of Master Enzeru and their time together, about Pylon's duty as a Jedi Shadow, and the things he had done for the Order. Finally, he told her of Darth Ravage and his mission. He explained to her how this one man had managed to take everything away from him. That, despite all of his meditation and training, he hated this man with every fiber of his being, and nothing in the Galaxy seemed to matter more then killing him. She understood perfectly.
So Kara talked to Deccan, and convinced him on Pylon's behalf to give the wounded Jedi and Sith their final battle. On one dark, rainy day, Pylon walked out into the center of the camp, with a crowd of armor-clad Mandos encircling the encampment. There, on his knees, Ravage sat with a long, vicious looking vibrosword in front of him. His left hand was nothing but an arm and stump now, and Pylon could feel the man's anger burning off of him, like heat from a pyre.
Soon, Deccan stepped forward from the crowd of cheering warriors, all eager to see a Jedi and Sith fight to the death. He was a large man, made larger by his heavy beskar armor, but still dwarfed in comparison to Ravage. He stood in the middle of the make-shift arena, looking both combatants up and down with an approving grin on his face. With both men missing a hand, and the stark differences of stature, it was sure to be an interesting fight in Deccan's mind.
"Alright, listen up. You two are on Mandalorian land, so you're going to settle this the Mando'a way. No Force powers. No Lightsabers. No armor. Just vibroblades." The Mando chieftain instructed, his voice booming over the crowd. Ravage sat on his knees, silently scorning the entire village with his red, cracked, evil eyes. Pylon paced back and forth, locking eyes with his opponent to stare him down. The tension between the two men was palpable, even with the heavy rain crashing down on them.
Ravage finally stood, his heavy metal boots sinking into the mud of the circular arena. He pulled the massive, curved vibrosword out of the ground with one hand, swinging it around his body in a display of strength. Pylon simply scoffed and turned his back on him, walking towards Kara who stood at the edge of the arena. She pulled her small, thin combat knife from her belt, activating the vibro-function before spinning it around her wrist before handing it to him. "Kill him...or die well." She whispered, lifting Pylon's hand to kiss his fist.
The Mandalorians began cheering again, chanting and jeering for battle, some placing bets, others simply waiting for the action. As Pylon and Ravage began circling each other, further drawing out the line of their arena, their eyes never leaving the others.
The pair began to fight furiously. With each strike Ravage swung, Pylon ducked and dodged them almost effortlessly, only to give the man a small, shallow cut somewhere on his body. As the towering Sith Lord began to tire and weaken, despite his inhuman endurance. Pylon was no longer fighting like a Jedi. This was not about Sith or Jedi, Light or Dark, even the Republic. There was only these two men, trying to kill the other by any mean necessary.
Finally, Ravage took up to offensive, charging forward before delivering a massive chop downwards. Pylon simply sidestepped the blade, letting it slam into the mud, jumping forward to slice Ravage across the chest, diving behind him and rolling to his feet. His opponent let out a hiss of pain, before turning around to swing his vibrosword and attempt to cleave Pylon in two. Once again, with minimal effort, he leaned back, bending his knees as he did to let the blade pass over his chest harmlessly.
With Ravage's swing overextending his arm, Pylon leap forward to drive his knife into the Sith's mechanical heart, taking him down to the ground. He let out a loud, rage filled scream as he began smashing the vibrodagger into his enemie's chest over and over. Once Ravage finally stopped moving, and Pylon saw the hatred leave the man's eyes, he struck one final blow, sinking Kara's knife into his skull, all the way down to the pommel.
Pylon finally got back to his feet, deafened by the roaring crowd, cheering in Mando'a "Kal'ika! Kal'ika! Kal'ika!". Little blade. The onlooking clan soon quieted as Deccan stepped forward again, eying Zerga from head to toe, before grinning softly and lifted his arm in victory, holding the bloodied knife into the air, letting the rain and gore splash onto his face. A moment after, Kara pushed her slim body through the crowd, throwing her arms around Pylon's neck to place a long, hard, deep kiss onto his lips, holding him as the rain showered their bodies.
He had won. He had avenged his Master. He was alive. More alive then he had ever felt before in his life. He had split blood and taken life, but not as a Jedi. As a warrior. As a Mando.
--------
New Life
After that day, Pylon had almost forgotten what it meant to be a Jedi. He didn't contact the Order and inform them of the mission, or even that he was alive. On Mandalore, he had found a new life, a new way to be happy. It seemed pointless to return to his old lifestyle, especially with so much here. He and Kara had fallen in love, with her and her father teaching Pylon the Mando way. He took to it faster then anything he had before in his life.
Deccan had replaced the only mentor Pylon had ever known, and much like Enzeru before him, taught and molded the man into an even more efficient killer, without relying on the Force. Eventually, the entire Clan began seeing the Jedi in a whole new light. Not as a Jedi, but as a skilled hunter and warrior. Someone they could respect, fight beside, and even die for.
It wasn't long before the young couple decided to finally put a label on their relationship. The agreed to become married, but only after Pylon got Deccan's permission. At first, the hard-nosed Mando scoffed and cursed at the idea of his daughter marrying a Jedi. Not in his lifetime, or under his banner...until he realized just how much the two loved each other. Finally, he came around to the idea, with only one requirement: Pylon give up his Jedi life, permanently. Never to return to the temple on Coruscant, to put aside his robes in exchange for a set of armor. He accepted it with pleasure.
Kara and Pylon were soon married, reciting the Mando wedding vows to themselves, one private night in their hut together. The next morning, Pylon sent a holo-message to a friend of his within the Order. It simply stated: "Ravage is dead. I am dead. Don't look for me. Don't find me. I'm done sacrificing."
Pylon now lives the life a Mandalorian, taking bounties, mercenary, and freelance investigation work. He and Kara have been married for two years, with no plans in the future to have children, as both enjoy the free lifestyle of being Bounty Hunters. To this day, he has yet to be heard from or seen by any of the Jedi...to his knowledge.
With lightsabers, armor, and a bag full of tricks at his side, Pylon Zerga ventures out into the Galaxy to carve his own path out of flesh and blood...and anyone who stands in the way of his happiness
EXTRAS AND NPC'S
NOTABLE RELATIONSHIPS: Kara Zerga: Wife
Dan Wells: Handler
Carmilla Black: Occasional Employer
Jareth Sharl: Hunted Enemy
Role-play Sample
ROLE-PLAY SAMPLE:Rattatak cities were quite a marvel at a distance. Built directly into the side of mountains and canyons, they had an urban feel that few others could compare with...At a distance. Once you were on the busy streets and swerving between swoop-gangs and thugs, it kind of lost it's magic. In the end, it was just another planet in the Rim, with scum and slimeballs a pleanty.
Pylon gave his gunbelt a shake, making sure his precious DC's were strapped tightly to his legs. Then, to his utility belt, each small pocket covered in a ultrachrome plate to match his armor. Pylon had grown accustomed to a utility belt from his Jedi training, but now, it had less peaceful gadgets, and more of "alternate weapons". He carried bolas, a length of thin razor sharp durasteel wire, a longer length of metal chain, metal ball bearings, durasteel-knuckle dusters, and even a Vibroblade. He did still keep a few notable tools from his Jedi Utility belt, like his aquata breather, holoprojector, and grappeling hook and cord. It gave him no place for rations or emergency medical supplies, but he hoped he would never need them. The way he figuired, more weapons just meant less people to hurt you...or more ways to hurt them.
Pylon clicked his teeth three times to bring up the digital map in his helmet. A blinking dot repersented him, with red dots repersenting unidentified persons--and boy was there alot of them. He had forgotten just how busy streets could get in a market. He scanned the area for his destination, a bar called the Drowned Duros. A enderring name, he mused. Using the map as both a guide and his eyes, he walked forward proudly, sidestepping incoming red-dots and hopping over a few stationary ones--probably a drunk passed out on the road.
After some dodging and weaving, Pylon found an allyway leading to the Drowned Duros. He shut the map off, and looked ahead to see three large men surronding a much smaller, red skinned Zabrak. "My contact.." He thought. The three men were a Nagai, Rattaki, and a grey-skinned Nikto. "Three of some of the meanest species in the galaxy.." Pylon signed as he began his approach.
Red was already backed up into a corner, with the Nagai chuckleing and spinning his Tehk'la blade, a type of Vibro knife usually associated with the species, around his hand. The Rattataki was cracking his knuckles, over a head taller then the Zabrak, with the Nikto clearly there for muscle-bound support. Red was clearly outnumbered and outmatched, but that didn't make Pylon assume he didn't DESERVE to get this beating. Most of his contacts had a few things coming their way. Hell, so did Pylon! But he wasn't sure how far these thugs were willing to take it.
"How about I cut off those horns and wear 'em round my neck, ehh?" The Nagai cackled, forcing the Zabrak against the wall.
"You ripped us off, Brak! You said that that spice would take us places. All it did was make me dizzy!" The Nikto spat, popping his knuckles loudly, over and over again.
The Rattataki stayed silent, leaning on the sandstone wall Red was pressed on.
Pylon gave a little sigh and then forced a cough, standing with his hands behind his back. "I think he's learned his lesson, gentlemen. Never sell spice to spiceheads." He said loudly. He was glad he had his helmet on, or they would have seen the smile on his face. The group suddenly turned to look at Pylon in unison, examining him up and down, clearly interested by his armor.
"Stay out of this, Mando-Scum. Or i'll break you like a shiny twig." The Rattataki boomed, his voice deep and heavy as a boulder. Pylon shook his head slightly, enough to make it noticable with his helmet.
"Afraid I can't, Spicehead. See this man is an investment of mine. One that i have to protect. I understand your frustraiton of losing your investment, but you'll just have to consider this one a loss." He said informatively. He decided to use as small of words as he could, as not to confuse them.
The Nagai stepped up, pushing Red hard against the wall, trying to make him stick there. "That's some pretty armor you got...I think it would look better on me though.." He cackled, sniffling and sucking up snot as he did. The Nikto stepped forward, starting to circle around to Pylon's flank, which he allowed. His helmets wrap-around vision made opponents from behind less of a threat and more of an annoyance. It did always look cool, however, when you punched one out without even looking at him.
He would make this quick. Kara was waiting for him on the ship, and this was only the first stop of the day. Besides, no sense in wearing himself out on common thug-trash such as this. With a auidable pop of his neck, Pylon let out a loud sigh.
"Let's get this over with."
-Vacation Interrupted
-Heed The Call, Above All
-A Mandalorian Disagreement
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