Private Repossession and Revenge

[Okuma Milogen]

Location: Verida
Tag: Braze

Detours were normally a huge hassle, and this one wasn’t much of an exception. But with the cosmic scale obstacle in the way of his destination Okuma took the liberty of going to Veridia before his professional mission was over. Hoping that now he could be united with a part of himself that had been stolen from him. Too often now has he put his trust in others to shape him and become something bigger than himself. Now Okuma decided what and who he was by himself.

Okuma was coming prepared, geared up in a way that was reminiscent of his time on the force at Nar Shaddaa. Black fatigues, knee and elbow pads, tactical belt and chest rig with plenty of munitions. On him was his reliable DH-17, a vibroblade made of ultrachrome, thermal detonators, as well as a small concealed czerka slugthrower holstered at his wrist. Those paired with his extensive augments would be the bulk of his equipment. Any more and it could prove to be more of a crutch he’d be overly reliant on instead of his extensive martial and tactical knowhow.

It was dark and stormy on Verida, late into the night where the only source of light was the occasional flash of lightning across the rainy skies. A perfect night for Okuma. Using the darkness and storm as cover for himself to enter the secluded, secret compound on the remote planet. Ready to neutralize any target that dared to cross his path and get in his way. He was too close now to his goal that he wouldn’t let it slip by because of a micro-second of hesitation. With his augments and who he would be facing, micro-seconds was all he’d be able to afford.

Now on the campus of the temple Okuma glanced down at his datapad to view a map of the location. One of the documents he managed to get from the Temple on Coruscant. Giving him a detailed look at the various buildings, their purpose and layouts. Having studied it plenty before coming here and already having half a dozen routes planned for him to enter and exit smoothly without getting lost. ​

 

[Tirin Raene]

TAGS: Okuma Milogen

The Veridian Jedi Temple was a temple of secrecy and boasted of high security. Fortunately for @Okuma, Milogen had obtained the stolen credentials from Jasper Kai'el along with some basic schematics and information held at other jedi locations, and that seemed to be enough to grant him access. The halls at night were quiet and undisturbed. This was a place of learning and recovery after all and all was still and hushed.

It wouldn't take Okuma long to find the Hall of the Fallen, where statues, memorials, and plaques lined the walls. One section in particular held various lightsabers and their crystals on display, many of which belonged to Jedi who had fallen in battle or had fallen from grace. Sure enough, Okuma's very own lightsaber came in to view. It was mundane in design and simplistic in its form, but unmistakably his as it rested on a display above a holo-plaque bearing an inscription upon it.

Padawan Okuma Milogen
Disbarred, disgraced, and severed from the Light.
His blade remains— as a symbol of warning.​

This saber belonged to Okuma Milogen, once a Padawan of the Silver Jedi.
Banished for the fatal act of tearing a man apart through the Force, his connection to it was severed by his superiors.
It rests here in memory—for he is not remembered for how he served,
but for the moment he could not hold back the storm within.
His exile was absolute.
His saber remains, a relic of wrath unrestrained, and the burden it leaves behind.​

 

[Okuma Milogen]

Location: Verida
Tag: Tirin Raene

Stepping up to the display, Okuma's topaz eye glared at it narrowing as he read the warning on it. Despite everything, what he'd been through, what he’d lost time and time again. He didn’t regret his actions. He would do it all again.

The shadowy figure began to reach up, his gloved fingers curling around the sturdy hilt. Its touch floods him with familiar memories. Memories of pride and optimism. He couldn’t feel the connection he once shared with the gemstone that lay within it. But he knew that it could feel like his return. His thumb gently slid up to the ignition readying himself for a moment to once again bask in its blue radiance.

But just before he did, he sensed another. Behind him, through the most subtle of audio feedback from his sensory package. Okuma snapped his body around. One hand unholstering his pistol, the other unseathing his vibro-blade as it buzzed to life. Holding a weapon in each hand. The lightsaber hilt, already securely holstered on his belt with practiced ease becoming of one who diligently trained and handled such a weapon.

Okuma was almost entirely covered head to toe. All that showed was his one eye and his silvery white hair. A neck gaiter covered the lower half of his face. He looked at the raven haired man before speaking. “Master Raene I presume… Thank you for taking such good care of this saber for me.”​

 

[Tirin Raene]

TAGS: Okuma Milogen

Heliotrope-colored eyes stared at Okuma through the dark of the hall glinting off the faint glow of holoplaques as the only real illumination within.

"You presume correctly, young man," Tirin said softly.

The man was dressed in nothing but a set of soft satin night robes, draped loosely over his slender frame as long black hair cascaded down his willowy shoulders.

"It would have been nice to know I was to have company this evening… though you've chosen to enter this temple quite late—with someone else's key, no less."

He gave a small shake of his head. "Your actions so far have been far from the kind of honesty and integrity I expect from guests. This is a sacred space. Please, stow your weapons, Okuma..."

Tirin's gaze traveled over Okuma, trying to discern his intent.

He had personally curated all the artifacts, reliquaries, and placards that lined these halls, memorials and fragments of history honoring many Jedi who had come and gone. Unlike Okuma, Tirin stood perfectly still.

"What are your intentions here?" he asked plainly, his voice unflinching.

He knew what emotion could drive people to do, what dangerous, desperate choices they might make just to feel something in the moment. Okuma's Force aura was fluctuating wildly, and Tirin could sense the weight behind it.

If there was a path to peaceful resolution, Tirin would take it.

If all the young man sought was a single token of sentimental value... then perhaps it was better to let him have it. No one needed to be harmed. But if he intended to hurt anyone, that was where Tirin drew the line, firmly and without compromise.

 

[Okuma Milogen]

Location: Verida
Tag: Tirin Raene

It wasn’t too shocking for Okuma to learn that he was already identified. It wasn’t a difficult connection to make. Still it went to show that he was being concerningly unprofessional at the moment. “My intentions are to take back what is mine. To no longer leave it behind like some museum piece.” Being used as some exhibition to warn others of the dangers of their power and responsibility. To craft his legacy as one of shame and failure.

Still the Kage didn’t stow his weapons yet. Keeping them firmly within his hands. Part of him wondered if he could end this jedi right here and now. To Blitz and overwhelm with shock and awe. It was one of the better and more consistent ways of getting an advantage over Jedi.

“Maybe if this place wasn’t so secretive I could’ve reached out and scheduled a reservation. I had to go through some serious hoops just to get this far.” Okuma’s voice carried a tinge of desperation. Like someone who believed they had come too far and had too much to lose. Like an agitated cornered animal.

He tried not to think about it, but the words kept repeating in his head.

‘Disbarred, Disgraced and severed from the Light’

He knew he was unwelcome but it hurt more to know just how much. Shunned by the grace of The Light and the agents of her will.

“Don’t get in my way Master Jedi… I got enough thermal detonators on me to level this entire place.” Even though thermal detonators packed some serious destructive capabilities his words were slightly hyperbolic. Yet they could still bring calamity to the temple.​

 

[Tirin Raene]

TAGS: Okuma Milogen

Tirin was eerily calm as he listened to Okuma speak. His expression barely shifted, but his voice carried a weight that was impossible to ignore.

“There are sick and injured individuals here,” he said softly, “and the children are sleeping.”

He held Okuma’s gaze without flinching.

“Whatever anger you carry... and what they took from you, I won’t disparage. But this place is not your battleground. These people are not your enemy.”

He didn't take his gaze from Okuma nor did he move just yet.

The silence between them stretched with tension and restrained judgment. Tirin did not so much as blink at the threat, though his expression dimmed subtly with disappointment.

“Then you’ve truly come seeking only to reclaim a weapon... with another pointed at your head.”

His robe sleeves whispered as he moved finally, one hand lifting in invitation of all things. Tirin was the picture of a calm and composed individual. Still barefoot on the polished stone, Tirin took a single step forward and lowered his voice to something quieter than the raging thunder storm outside.

“You are not the first to feel betrayed by the Order... And you will not be the last. But threatening to reduce this place to ash will not undo your exile, nor redeem your legacy. It will only confirm the story written on that plaque. Is that what you want? To prove them right?”

He let that question settle, before continuing, tone soft as summer rain.

“I will not stop you from taking your saber. That choice is yours. But the legacy it carries...that, you choose tonight.”

There was no saber in his hand. Nor did he call to arms. No defensive posture was struck by the sleepy eyed master. Just the oddly serene steadiness of a man who had seen too many young warriors swallowed by vengeance and pain, who seemed reluctant to raise a weapon against one more.

"You’ve crossed an ocean of shadows to reach this hall. You don’t have to be the man that plaque says you are. Not unless you choose to be.”

 

[Okuma Milogen]

Location: Verida
Tag: Tirin Raene

Okuma hesitantly stepped back as Tirin reached for him. Practically flinching. The normally calm and collected merc was now jumpy and anxious. He had no desire to demolish the temple and those within it. It was only a threat, to take the campus hostage in case The Jedi tried to stop him. The Kage didn’t want it to come to that, but he also felt he needed some sort of leverage here. Some element of control.

“I never thought it would be on a display like this…” Okuma said. “I thought it would’ve been locked away, buried and forgotten.” The Kage couldn’t tell what was worse, to pretend like he never existed or to have been made an example out of.

“I just wanted to help… I did help, I did what was right…”

Could he just walk out of here? Be allowed to get what he wanted without anyone being hurt. Being here had him think about his own memories of learning to be a Jedi. Remembering how the fights we avoid are the ones we always win.

However, there was a sudden bright flash through the windows that for a moment illuminated the two men. A startling spark of lightning nearby as thunder loudly reverberated through the air. Briefly triggering a flight or fight response from the augmented Kage as he raised his blaster towards the Jedi.

Was the mercenary simply capitalizing on the brief chaos and noise created by the storm? Or was it a mistake, his nerves getting the best of him and trigger happy habits taking over as his augments kept him from relaxing? Not even Okuma was sure.

But under the cover of thunder Okuma squeezed the trigger in a hasty attempt to shoot the diplomatic Jedi. ​

 

[Tirin Raene]

TAGS: Okuma Milogen

The flash of the bolt lit up the chamber, and without so much as raising a finger, the blaster bolt stopped midair. A golden shimmer of Force energy caught the green bolt, akin to a bubble, then let it dissipate, fizzling out inches from Tirin's chest. Tirin's dark heliotrope colored eyes never left Okuma.

The Master took a single step forward, unhurried, his voice a velvet whisper beneath the thunder.
"This is not the man you want to be remembered as."

The air around them shifted in a subtle manner becoming dense, and full of pressure.

"But if you insist on clinging to violence... I will take that burden from your hands."

In the space of a breath, the Force wrapped around Okuma's weapons, not yanking, but exerting an ever-tightening grip, like fingers coaxing tension from a trembling fist. It was not violent, however it was inevitability.

"Disarm yourself, Padawan," Tirin said gently. "Or I will do it for you." Okuma would start to feel the force around his person as there was constriction around his wrists.