G L A D I A T O R
NAME: Sev Pitborn
FACTION: The Jedi Order
RANK: Jedi Knight
SPECIES: Human
AGE: 25
SEX: Male
HEIGHT: 6'3
WEIGHT: 215 lbs
EYES: Blue-Green
HAIR: Brown
SKIN: White
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes
STRENGTHS:
+ Master Duelist: Due to his unique upbringing, Sev has mastered the use of bladed weapons, including his lightsaber. He has faced all manner of opponents, including exotic beasts, trained mercenaries and Sith Assassins.
+ Battle Meditation/Premonition: Sev possesses the unique Force power known as "Battle Meditation" allowing him to read his opponents and predict their actions with startling accuracy.
+ Freed Slave: Sev was raised in deplorable conditions, meaning he is at home in even the lowest of living standards and is naturally hardy. His standards for luxury are very low.
+ Hand To Hand Expert: Sev has been fighting from a very young age. His time in the Fight Pits has given him some special tricks in hand to hand combat. He excels at both grappling and striking, possessing a unique and technical fighting style.
NEUTRALS:
= Abolitionist: As a freed slave, Sev is vehemently opposed to the practice of chattel slavery and seeks to eliminate it at any cost. Carries an extreme hatred for slavers and slave owners.
= Confident: Sev's extensive experience in combat have given him a strong confidence in his martial abilities. While this allows him to remain calm and collected in the face of danger, it also could be considered hubris, putting him in dangerous situations and causing him to make tactical errors.
= Dark Sense of Humor: Growing up a slave in both spice mines and later gladiatorial arenas, Sev has developed a dark sense of humor uncharacteristic of a Jedi. He doesn't seem to value sentient life as much as a Jedi is expected to. While this allows him to be comfortable in tragic situations, it can also rub many of his comrades the wrong way.
= Fearless: Sev was forced to make peace with his mortality at a very young age. He has since placed very little value in preserving his own life, as for much of it, death was seen as a way to escape suffering. While his Jedi training has removed this sentiment to an extent, Sev still places little value on his own life, even more so following the loss of his Master. While his fearlessness is of great value in battle and negotiation, it also but him into very dangerous, often near suicidal situations.
WEAKNESSES:
- Traumatic Childhood: Raised as a slave and pit fighter, the memories and horrors of Sev's past haunt him to this day. This trauma has left a dark mark of anger and hatred in Sev, despite his Jedi training.
- Survivors Guilt: Struggles with losing his Master, his only companion in The Galaxy. Haunted by this loss, Sev feels alone and lost in The Universe.
- Dark Side Influence: His trauma and loss has led to great anger within Sev, making him particularly vulnerable to Anger, Hate, Guilt and Fear. The Path to The Dark Side is one small misstep away. He may be more easily turned than most Jedi, and is prone to inadvertently channeling The Dark Side.
- Untraveled: Sev lived as a Slave for much of his life, meaning his education and exposure to the outside world was limited. His only beacon of knowledge was his Master, now he must learn on his own.
- Scarred: Due to his long combat career, Sev is covered in scars. Though fortunate enough to not have any crippling wounds, he deals with pain and nagging injuries as well as the aesthetic effects of his many wounds.
APPEARANCE:
Sev is a tall, athletic young man. He bears many scars from his time in the mines and the arena, but maintains a lean, chiseled physique with no crippling injuries. His hands are hard and calloused from his childhood in the mines, his martial arts training has left him with minor cauliflower ear and his face wears lines uncharacteristic of his age. His build is lithe and well proportioned, broad at the shoulder and narrow at the hip. He has blue green eyes and thick brown hair. His eyes are sharp and his gaze intense, as if he were hunting. He carries a distinct scar, shaped like a three pointed star beneath his left eye.
SHIP: The Hedge Knight
KILLS:
BOUNTIES COLLECTED:
ROLE-PLAYS:
In Pursuit of Ghosts (Concluded)
The Autopsy of Kai Kriel (Role Concluded)
Size Matters Not (Concluded)
Buried Temptation (In Progress)
There is Only The Force (In Progress)
Operation: Save Lanik! (In Progress)
CHAPTER ONE: THE PIT
"DIG YOU WORMS!" The voice bellowed out from behind the boys. A grotesque Nikto thug wearing cheap plasteel armor howled as he lumbered through the mineshaft. On either side, children, many scarcely old enough to walk, chipped away at the salty rocks in front of them, pausing to wipe away sweat and rest their withered arms when the overseer wasn't looking.
"DIG DAMN YOU! DIG!" the alien thug yelled as he lashed a filthy, bruised human boy across the back with his whip. Dust billowed off his shoulders and cropped hair with the impact. The boy winced in pain, but remained silent, digging slightly faster.
"YOU'RE A TOUGH ONE BOY! REALLY HARD FOR SMOOTHSKIN HUMIE! MAYBE IF YOU'RE LUCKY THEY'LL LET YOU FIGHT IN THE PITS ONE DAY! OTHERWISE YOU'LL ROT DOWN HERE WITH THE REST OF EM'!" The thug laughed as he continued his gauntlet through the spice mines. The boy chipped away at the rock at a feverish pace, until the overseer rounded the bend, then paused to wipe the sweat away.
"Hey he's right Sev!!!" a little blue Rodian boy squeaked from further down the line. "You're tough and strong! I bet they'll let you into the pits. I think it beats wasting away down here!"
"I doubt fighting isn't much more fun than digging." The human boy replied as he wiped the stinging sweat from his eyes and paused, rubbing his blistered hands together in a feeble attempt to find some momentary respite.
The Pits. Here on Shot Kuffa, a backwater moon so small and worthless that it barely showed up on even the most detailed of star maps, you were either a Hutt, a gambler, or a slave. If you were a slave, you lived and worked in The Pits. Either the mines, chipping away at solid rock hoping to strike one of the few spice veins and earn yourself an extra portion for the week, or The Blood Pits. Arenas of the most primal brutality, hand to hand combat, mostly amongst little more than children, one of the most degenerate spectacles The Outer Rim had to offer. This depraved cockfighting of young sentients was the true source of income on this rock, with mines acting as little more than a cruel incubator for the next generation of pit fighters, hardening innocent souls and preparing them for brutal hand to hand combat, to the death, for the entertainment of the sick and the greedy.
"I don't want to fight Beep. I just want to sleep. Forever." Sleep was the only reprieve these tortured souls ever received. "Well if you kick ass in the pit you get your own room and a bed and everything Sev! What are you scared of a little blood? Maybe you're just a soft little punk after all!" The alien kid giggled as he taunted the other boy.
"Shut your snout Beep before I pull your antennae off and feed em' to you." Sev replied casually, not even looking up from his task. "That's more like it!" the little Rodian howled with laughter. "You'll be a kickass pit fighter after all! Until I kill you of course." The little Rodian giggled at his jab, pleased with himself.
This morbid banter was the closest thing to friendship in the mines. Despite their cavalier attitudes toward their inevitable fate, the boys looked out for each other. The kind of brotherhood that only shared hardship can breed. "Hey Sev, you know they won't have us fight anyway. It would be over too fast." The Rodian laughed at himself as the boys continued their work.
TWO YEARS LATER
UGHHHBLAAAARGHH
The boy wiped the vomit from the corners of his mouth.
AGGGHHHHH
Still more, nothing but water and bile, burning Sev's throat with foul acid from his empty stomach.
"AND NOW FOR YOU!!! OUR FINE PATRONS!" The announcer blared over the speakers, slightly muffled by the heavy, rusted gate separating the arena from Sev.
"WE GIVE YOU WHAT YOU ALL COME FOR! FREEEEEEESH MEEEEEEEAT!!!" The cheers of the crowd thundered through the ramshackle structure, shaking the dilapidated locker room with their fervor.
Sev finally stood up straight, having emptied the contents of his stomach to the point where even the intense fear couldn't drive more out of him. This was it, he thought. This is the moment. All his short, sad life, his overseers have dangled the prospect of being a real Pit Warrior in front of him and his comrades. The one way to escape the mines, to get full meals, to get a real bed. That one way was to kill, and to look good doing it too. Give The Hutts a reason to keep you around, fill their slimy pockets, and they just might see fit to make your life a little less miserable. Hell, maybe you could even earn your freedom or a job as an enforcer one day.
Just had to please the crowd. Win enough fights, kill enough people.
Sev kneeled down on the dank, dirty floor and stuck his fist to his mouth, drawing in a few deep breaths around it.
You can do it. This is it. Win and things get better...
Lose... well... I don't have anything to lose.
Sev stood. His fear was gone with his lunch. He was ready. He was ready to pound the skull of whoever came out of that other gate into powder, then butter his bread with their brains if he had too.
A real bed...
The words of the announcer and the cheers of the crowd had fallen away from Sev's senses. As he steadied himself his awareness returned.
"TWO NEW YOUNGINS' FRESH FROM THE MINES!!! DO THEY HAVE WHAT IT TAKES? PLACE YOUR BETS!"
Hurry it up already! Sev thought, enraged. This delay was torture. He was ready! As they continued to draw things out his thoughts and anxiety started to creep back...
Please don't be anyone I know...
Sev slapped himself across the face to steady himself. He pounded his fist into his chest, pacing now. More deep breaths.
The rusty gate began to groan and creak, slowly rising out of the dirty ground.
"FRESH MEAT! FRESH MEAT! FRESH MEAT!" The crowd chanted in rhythm.
Sev rushed through the opening, a primal bloodlust pulsing through his barely pubescent frame.
No...
From the other gate ran a scrawny little blue Rodian. A Rodian he knew very well. Beep. His trash talking, but ever loyal companion. They both skidded to a stop, about 3 meters of dusty arena floor separating them. They stared at one another in disbelief.
"KIIIIIIIIILLLLLL!!!!!"
"FRESH MEEEEAAAAAT!"
"BOOOOOOOO!!!"
The bloodthirsty crowd grew impatient rapidly. It had only been a few seconds, less than a minute, but to Sev it felt like hours.
Suddenly Beep began to charge, his black alien eyes glistening with bloodlust. Sev responded in kind, running straight for him.
Beep threw a wild haymaker, Sev slipped down and shot himself into Beep's legs, wrapping his arms around the Rodians thighs and raising him up into the air.
"YES!!!! KILL KILL KILL!" The crowd roared with excitement as the boys finally made contact.
Sev slammed Beep into the unforgiving ground with all his force, hearing the wind rush from the Rodians lungs. Beep regained his composure with surprising quickness, wrapping his legs around Sev's waist and whipping a sharp elbow into Sev's temple. He recoiled with pain, his head throbbing, the world spinning. He quickly regained himself, driving his own elbow down into Beep's soft alien face, his emerald green blood spraying out onto the dirty floor. The alien boy wheezed and floundered in pain. The crowd exploded with excitement. Sev dropped another elbow right into the Rodians eye, causing the large black orb to crush like a grape into green ooze. The Rodian screamed and tried desperately to scoot back and away from Sev.
Sev dove past the aliens legs, and in a desperate attempt to shield his shattered face, the Rodian rolled over onto his stomach, trying to make himself into a ball. Sev climbed on top of his back like a jockey and began to smash the Rodian's head from behind, causing him to put his arms up to defend. With that fatal mistake, Sev slipped his arm around the Rodians neck, placed his other arm behind his head, laid back and squeezed. The Rodian choked and gagged as his airway was cut off, gasping his last pathetic breath whilst clawing uselessly at Sev's determined face...
Sev squeezed until the noises stopped... The fighting stopped...
"WE HAAAAAVE A WINNER!!!"
CHAPTER TWO: VICTORY
SOME YEARS LATER...
Sev ran his thumb up the edge of the vibroblade, causing its cortosis weave to ring, almost calling out for blood.
Sev was a champion now. His first kill, his childhood friend Beep, felt like a lifetime ago. So long ago that it seemed to be a dream. Another life, a faint memory of innocence lost. Now there was only survival. He was almost a grown man now, physically, though in character he had the demeanor of one who had lived a thousand miserable lives. His whole existence was survival. Fighting, if not fighting, training to fight. Now that he had proven himself as a real pit warrior, a true gladiator, he was in the real fights... armed. Against all manner of adversary, from simple slaves, sent before him merely to be cut down and dazzle the crowd with their gory deaths, to other successful gladiators or wild beasts. Sev ran through them all now. His determination and will to live was all that was left. The dream of freedom, the only thing keeping his humanity alive. Fear had left him long ago. Victory or death. Nothing else matters.
"ARE YOU READY?!?" The familiar voice of the announcer rang out again. Another night, another fight. Sev had grown so tired of the petty fanfare that preceded his bouts by now. The crowd chanted incessantly, knowing what was coming. They had already watched a few fights, kids beating eachother down with rocks, an Acklay ripping apart a hopeless gaggle of ragged slaves and a couple of mid level pit fighters slashing each other up with vibroblades.
"HONORABLE PATRONS! WE HAVE PREPARED FOR YOU TONIGHT A MAIN EVENT OF EPIC PROPORTIONS! TWO LEGENDS OF THE PITS, OUR VERY OWN YOUNG CHAMPION, RAISED IN THE MINES AND HARDENED IN THE ARENA, A KILLER YOU KNOW VERY WELL, OUR VERY OWN SEV THE RAZOR!!!" The crowd cheered with excitement. Sev had become well known for his skills with fist and blade and his smooth, effortless fighting style. Fans of the pits would always say it seemed as though he knew his enemies movements before they made them, some even accused him of cheating. A foolish conspiracy theory. Sev's carnage was very real... too real.
"HIS OPPONENT, ANOTHER LEGEND OF THE ARENA, COMING OUT OF LUXURIOUS RETIREMENT AS GROBBA THE HUTT'S FINEST ENFORCER TO GRACE YOU WITH HIS PRESENCE TONIGHT, KRASSK THE REAPER!"
Damn. Sev thought. Krassk was a Trandoshan, mean and nasty like most of his race, built like a Krayt Dragon with the ferocity to boot. Are they trying to retire me? Retirement of course being in a shallow grave. Krassk was an arena legend, known for his brutality, he won so many fights that he had been granted his freedom by Grobba The Hutt, so that he could use his vicious talents for himself. Sev had proven himself a great fighter by now, but he had yet to face anyone close to this caliber.
Even still, Sev felt no fear. No anxiety. At this point, he cared little if he lived or died. Victory meant he would become a true legend of the arena, perhaps even be given his freedom to work for The Hutts. Death meant an end to this harsh life. Despite that... Sev was a survivor. His instincts would never allow him to resign himself to certain death. Not after all he'd been through. No. I'm gonna skin this lizard.
"PLACE YOUR BETS!" A familiar call. Blood for credits and spectacle.
Sev spun his trusty vibroblade around in his hand then held it at his side. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. his routine before every fight. He heard the familiar groan as the rusty machinations of the arena gate hummed to life and it began to open. The crowd was chanting and stomping in their seats. Most were cheering for the Reaper. It seemed Sev wasn't the odds on favorite for this bout.
"KILL KILL KILL!" The announcer and crowd yelled in near unison as the gates finally opened. Sev opened his eyes and locked them on his opponent. A tall, scarred Trandoshan with red scales and a terrifying visage, growling with primal rage as he rushed into the arena wielding two high quality vibroblades.
Sev charged forward as well, the familiar sensation of adrenaline pulsing through his body silenced his mind as he focused like a laser. The Trandoshan struck first, whirling his twin blades around like a tempest, Sev backstepped, dodging the strikes effortlessly, blade still at his side. The crowd was electric and the Trandoshan was becoming visibly enraged, continuing his ferocious onslaught as he pushed into the center of the ring and began to back Sev towards its walls. Sev waited and watched, with a familiar sensation that he could almost see where the attacks would come from before they came, instinct his training partners and opponents had called it. Finally, Sev made his move, sidestepping a downward slash from the raging lizard and striking the back of the blade with his own, sending it spinning from the aliens hand. He followed with a quick slash to the Trandoshan's forearm, drawing blood and a hiss of pain from the beast.
He stepped back out of range as the Trandoshian regained his guard and began attacking with his remaining blade. Sev could literally feel the anger radiating off the beast. Still, the beast raged in folly, as Sev continued to read his attack patterns and counter them, seemingly effortlessly. At this point Sev was impressing himself, it was one thing to do this to other regular pit fighters or common slaves, but this was a former grand champion and a feared mercenary, what was this instinct?
Sev countered again, this time deflecting the blade upwards, then quick stepping to the outside and slashing across the lizards grossly exposed belly. The beast howled and hissed in agony, stepping back and looking at Sev with fiery, yet fearful reptilian eyes. Sev stood calmly, blade at his side as the Trandoshan began to stumble backwards, holding his blade up with one hand, as if he were going to continue, before falling to a knee and dropping his blade, holding his bleeding abdomen in clear agony. The crowd was exploding, electric with bloodlust and greed, as savvy gamblers began taunting their bookies, knowing a huge pay day was near.
"KILL! KILL! KILL!" The crowd chanted thunderously, shaking the arena with their excitement. The Trandoshan looked up at Sev, pathetic in his current state. The rage had left his reptilian eyes, now he could see fear and confusion. How did this young smoothskin defeat me?! The Reaper? he must have though, as Sev stood over him, blade still at his side, expressionless. Sev looked up to the VIP balcony, where Grobba, his owner, Lord of The Pits and master of Krassk was lounging. The Hutt laughed and bellowed. Nodding to Sev, holding up one of his fat, slimy thumbs, pointing down. Sev raised his blade...
"STOP!" A booming voice echoed through the arena, dwarfing the cheers of thousands. Sev paused, blade still raised, ready to deliver the killing blow. He looked up, and suddenly, as if from thin air, a hooded figure had appeared in the center of the arena. The crowd was silent with confusion. The air was heavy with tension.
The figure looked at Sev, his features scarcely visible beneath his shroud. "Spare him child." The mysterious figure said. "You don't need to kill anymore."
Sev was completely confused, dumbstruck. He looked up to Grogga, who also looked flabbergasted. "HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT OUR ARENA?!" The Hutt's voice boomed over the arena speakers in Huttese.
The figure lowered his hood, revealing a middle aged human, with long graying hair and a short, well trimmed beard. "I am taking this boy Hutt. You and your kind have tortured him long enough. His place is elsewhere." He spoke calmly. Confidently, as if everything he said had some kind of Divine approval.
At this point Sev was literally stunned, he dropped his blade to his side, his Trandoshan opponent seemed oblivious to all of this, as he gripped his bleeding stomach and quietly hissed in pain.
The Hutt began to laugh, deep bellowing laughs that only those slugs are capable of.
"THE BOY IS MY NEW CHAMPION STRANGER, HE IS NOT FOR SALE." The Hutt moaned into the speakers, ever confident in his words as his kind always was.
"I will take the boy and his freedom, whether you will sell him to me or not." The man still spoke calmly. He looked at Sev in his eyes intently, his gaze alone making Sev feel almost calm and comfortable, like everything he said was true.
The Hutt laughed again. "YOU HAVE SIGNED YOUR OWN DEATH WARRANT STRANGER." The Hutt laughed as the arena gates on both sides opened and mercenaries armed with all manner of weaponry filed in, at least two dozen.
"I give you one last chance Hutt, sell me the boy, we can both leave happy. Do not throw away the lives of your men so recklessly. They may live to serve you still."
The Hutt laughed again. "Kill him."
As soon as the word echoed over the pit, the man suddenly drew a metallic cylinder from his robe, igniting a lightsaber with a roar. A stunning emerald blade shot from the weapon as the man, now clearly seen as a Jedi, readied the weapon and looked at the thugs around him. The fear in their eyes was palpable. Sev's jaw was on the floor.
"I assure you that your master doesn't pay you enough to die. Please, spare yourselves, I don't wish to hurt any of you." With that, a couple of the thugs dropped their weapons and sprinted in horror out of the arena. The remainder began to fire. The Jedi leapt into action, moving through the arena at such speed that he was hardly visible, his dazzling green blade flashing in all directions, cutting down thugs left and right with seemingly zero effort, deflecting bolts back onto their shooters or harmlessly into the arena walls. Within moments, they were all dead, Sev and his grievously wounded opponent still in their original position, Sev stunned with awe.
The Jedi deactivated his weapon and returned to the center of the arena, which was now a scene of carnage. "I warned you Hutt. I am taking this boy and any further efforts to stop me will result in your destruction. You will grant this boy his freedom and allow him to come with me."
Grogga was stunned with terror on his balcony as he watched his feared mercenaries effortlessly cut down in mere moments.
"Very well, Jedi, take him and go. He is free."
"Come child." The Jedi said. It took Sev a moment to process what was even happening. He must be dreaming. He had only ever heard whispers and rumors of The Jedi, holy warriors with special powers and legendary blades of light, he never even believed the tales, yet they had all just been proven true.
Sev was still speechless, yet compelled to follow the man out of the arena.
"Leave the weapon child, you will not need it."
Sev hesitated, looking down at the simple blade that had carried him through so much, protected him and nearly won him his freedom, but something in the calming voice of this Jedi told him to trust him, so he dropped it, leaving it on the dusty arena floor. The crowd was silent as they left. As they moved through the hallways of the facility toward the spaceport and past the guards who had been the far border of Sev's whole world since his birth, Sev finally gained the courage to speak.
"W-why me?" He said, a ruthless pit fighter humbled and made shy by the very presence of this paladin.
"You are strong in The Force child. I could see in how you fought that you were special, but I sense much pain and anger in you. Much hatred. The Dark Side. I wish to save you from this torturous life, save you from your path of darkness, and bring you home. To the Force."
Sev was confused. "Sir... I don't know what any of that means..."
"I will teach you."
CHAPTER THREE: THE FORCE
Many months later.
"Focus, Padawan. Reach out with The Force. Do not try to command it. Become one with it. Let The Force act through you, not the other way around."
Sev closed his eyes and focused. He could feel a tingling sensation start in his chest, then flow out to his outstretched arm, yet still, the boulder would not move.
"I'm trying master..." Sev said, a bit of frustration showing in his voice. These last months had been incredible. Free from the mines, free from the Pits, so many firsts. First time on a star ship, first time in space, first time doing anything except mining, fighting, training or killing really. First time being... alive. But with new things comes new challenges. Learning to fly, learning to read, learning how to be a person and more importantly, how to be a Jedi. Nothing had been harder to learn than the ways of the force, but Sev loved learning. After having been denied it for so long, he embraced the opportunity. He had been blessed with a new life. A second chance. He had been saved.
"Do, or do not. There is no try." His master said. Calm and wise, as always.
"Yes master." Sev replied. He cleared his mind, like he would before the fights, deep breaths. Eyes closed, he could feel as if he was reaching out with an invisible limb of limitless strength as the boulder rose. He could not see it through his closed eyes, but he could feel it. Sev let a small smile crack the corner of his mouth. One of the few he'd ever had.
"Excellent job young one. I am very proud of you. In our short time together you have proven yourself to be everything I knew you were." A high compliment. Sev was humbled. This man, his master, Jedi Lucius Arpad, had saved him from a miserable existence, and showed him a galaxy full of hope, potential, beauty and The Force. He would be eternally grateful and he showed that gratitude by being the best student he could be. But he still struggled. After such a traumatic early life, the ways of The Jedi were a stark contrast. He had been conditioned for selfish survival for so long that the ideas of selflessness, mercy and peace were completely foreign to him. He only knew survival. But... he was learning.
Even later...
The icy wind whipped and stung at Sev's exposed skin as he walked through the dark, silent ice cave. He could feel The Force guiding him, as if this path had been laid out for him before he was even born. The lessons of his master echoed in his mind.
"Do, or do not."
"Anger is the path to The Dark Side."
"There is no death, there is only The Force."
"What is in that cave master?" Sev had asked before entering it's icy maw.
"Only what you take with you..."
Sev continued moving through the icy cave. He could feel The Force calling out to him. A heartbeat through the very fabric of the universe, a warmth in his core that called him deeper into these ancient caverns. Suddenly, the tight, frozen corridor opened up into a wider chamber, icy, dark rock surrounded him, completely silent, except the sound of water dripping from the walls. Suddenly, the warmth was gone... Sev felt a strange feeling run up his spine, he suddenly felt even colder. This was a dark place. He took a deep breath, his old tradition whenever fear knocked as his door, and continued into the cavern. Suddenly he heard a voice. A familiar voice he hadn't heard in a very, very long time. A voice from another all but forgotten life.
"Hey he's right Sev! You're tough and strong!" Sev's heart dropped. Beep... his childhood friend, and the first victim of his primal rage. He turned to the origin of the voice and there he was. A little blue Rodian, innocent black eyes looking up at him from a malnourished alien frame.
"B-but..." Sev muttered, his knees weak, his heart heavy with guilt, burning with pain.
"Remember when you were sick and I gave you half of my rations Sev? I know I used to say mean jokes but I never meant it... You were my friend." The apparition of the Rodian child stepped closer to him, it's hand extended as if asking for protection.
"You aren't real, I know you aren't real... Leave me alone, please! I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." Sev was broken by this harsh vision. The guilt of that action, that brutal murder of that young flesh had never left him. It had fueled his rage training and fed his bloody onslaught in the arena. It had haunted his dreams and ruined his sleep. It had never left him. The tears that leaked from Sev's eyes froze to his face in the arctic cave.
"YOU KILLED ME SEV!" As The Rodian got closer, it seamlessly morphed into a terrifying red Trandoshan, armed with two blades, swinging them at Sev's neck. He held his arm up in fear, some weak attempt to block the blades, but as they touched him the apparition disappeared. Sev opened his eyes. The cave was empty.
"I'm sorry." Sev said, to the empty cavern.
"I can never bring you back, but I will make it right one day. Thank you." Sev wiped the freezing tears from his eyes, as the warmth from earlier entered him again, and the heartbeat of The Force called him deeper into the cave. He walked through the caverns, deeper and deeper, until he entered another open area, this one blinding white with ice and marble, in the center a massive crystal formation, humming with the Force.
Sev approached and ran his hand across the crystals, grabbing a small one, that seemed to draw him in. As soon as he touched it, the crystal broke off and began to glow in his hand. Sev approached the ancient altar and pulled the parts his master had given him from the satchel on his side. He closed his eyes and assembled the pieces around the humming crystal with the force. When he opened them, there was a fully constructed lightsaber floating before him. He grabbed it and turned it on. A shimmering sapphire blade shot from the hilt, humming smoothly. Sev waved the blade around him, memories of his time in the arena returning as he held a weapon once again, but this was different. This would be the weapon of his redemption, not one of needless slaughter.
CHAPTER FOUR: ASCENSION
Years later…
The city was uncomfortably vast. An entire moon, countless billions packed amongst each other like grains of sand on a beach. So much emotion, life force, packed into such a small area. It was overwhelming. The stench was unbearable, in stark contrast to the shimmering lights of the endless skyline, beautiful in a haunting way. The holographic signs advertising every vice in their neon glow.
Nar Shaddaa.
They had come to this foul moon to make a deal. A merchant and purveyor of exotic goods, an old contact of the Jedi, had made Master Arpad aware of a rare holocron that had come into his possession and the Master knew that they could not risk such an artifact falling into Sith hands. Sev and his master had grown incredibly close over the years. Sev’s training had stretched for over a decade now and his connection to The Force had grown incredibly strong. He was unrecognizable as the scared boy in the mines, or the ruthless teenager in the arena. He had grown into a humble, wise and strong Jedi, near his ascension to Knighthood. His master had taught him everything he knew and their bond had transcended that of teacher and student and become that of close friends.
Master Arpad had saved Sev from a fate worse than death, an existence of pure pain and misery, and showed him the Galaxy and the Eternal Force that binds it all together. For that, Sev would be eternally grateful. When his master had asked him to accompany him to track down this sacred artifact, Sev leapt at the chance. Of course, this mission would be simple compared to the many perils they had faced together previously. Or so they thought…
“Ah welcome Jedi!” The large alien belted as they entered his shop. He was some strange species that Sev didn’t recognize, not uncommon here on Nar Shaddaa. The shop was a sight to behold, filled with all manner of strange objects, from obvious junk and droid parts, to strange artifacts of an unknown nature.
“Here for the holocron yes? Of course of course, here it is.” The creature opened a large safe behind the counter and pulled out a small trapezoidal object. It appeared to be a crystal with delicate and intricate golden inlays, the first holocron Zev had ever seen.
“You do not disappoint Fluxo, you never do old friend.” Master Arpad smiled as he looked over the object in his hand. Zev could feel the force pulsing through it, clearly this was an artifact of great worth. Who knows what kind of ancient knowledge it held?
“Ahhh of course not Lucius! You know I only bring the best in oddities from the furthest reaches of space! Heh, but you know this won’t be free of course.” The alien bellowed, clearing it’s alien throat with a strange gargling sound.
“50000 credits.”
“50000?! Master we could buy a ship or two for that!” Sev blurted out, a rare break in his discipline.
“Oh apprentice I assure you it is worth that much and more. I’ll have the credits transferred to your account, old friend.” Sev realized he had made a mistake in speaking up, but his master was patient and forgiving as always. Maybe he was further from Knighthood than he thought.
“Well then it’s been my pleasure! I’ll warn ya though Arpad, I’ve had some strange folk coming about asking for that artifact. I had some odd fellow in dark robes offer me twice that much for it, but he gave me a strange vibe so I denied it and told him I already had a customer. Watch yourself out there. It seems to be worth quite a lot to someone.” Those words struck Sev as very odd. Could it have been a Sith? Not likely. A Sith would have likely just killed this creature and taken the holocron from him. Regardless, it caused both the Jedi to double their guard.
After thanking the creature, they left the shop and took an automated speeder back to the dilapidated space port where they had rented a landing pad. The sooner they could get off this rock and get that holocron into the hand of The New Jedi Order the better. As they walked through the spaceport, both Jedi felt a heavy tension in the air. For such a crowded world, the spaceport seemed abandoned, an unsettling sign indeed.
“Keep your guard up Padawan, I sense great darkness here.” Master Arpad said, in a rare, stern and serious tone. “Yes master, I sense it too.” Sev replied, his hand resting on his lightsaber. As they approached their landing pad, the sense only got stronger. So strong, that it was becoming oppressive and uncomfortable as if the Jedi had been thrown into some sort of psychic sauna.
“Ready yourself apprentice, something sinister awaits us.”
As they rounded the corner leading to their landing pad, they were greeted by a figure standing between them and their ship, the shimmering lights of the Nar Shaddaa skyline glowing behind them.
The figure was hooded, dressed in black from head to toe. It stood tall, arms crossed, staring directly at the Jedi with a searing hatred in its eyes.
“You have no business here stranger. IF there is something we can do to help you, let us know, otherwise please leave this place.” Master Arpad said, as a formality. Clearly, this figure bore hostile intentions and had no plans to leave. Without speaking, the figure dropped it’s cloak to the floor, revealing an intricate suit of unholy armor, two lightsabers holstered on its belt. The figure wore a mask with a horrifying visage and a dark, lifeless visor. It needed no explanation, this was a Sith.
“Leave this place dark one. You can’t win this fight. Let us help you or leave us in peace.” The Jedi Master spoke again, his voice booming with a tone of fearless authority.
“You bear something I require Jedi.” The figure spoke. It’s voice was deep and menacing through the helmets vocalizer, sounding artificial and unnatural. The figure slowly reached down and unhooked the two lightsabers from it’s belt, igniting them revealing two crimson, pulsating blades.
Without hesitation, both Jedi drew their sabers. Master Arpad bearing a shimmering blade of noble green, Sev’s blue like an endless ocean.
“You don’t need to do this dark one, give up your anger. Let go of your hate. Please, let us help you, let us ease your pain.” Master Arpad made one final appeal to the menacing figure and was met with silence. Without warning, the Sith launched himself into the air at incredible velocity, rocketing towards the jedi. The assailant landed between them and began attacking both in a reckless fury, the Dark Side radiating from him like heat from a star. He attacked the two Jedi simultaneously like a raging typhoon, striking, parrying and countering with an uncanny rage. Sev focused hard. Deep breaths. The style of this dark assassin reminded him of the Trandoshan he had bested in the arena, but more defined and precise, not to mention a thousand times more vicious. Both the Jedi remained calm and focused, channeling the Force to guide their hands. Suddenly, without warning, the Sith jumped backwards and distanced himself from the Jedi. Caught in bloodlust, Sev charged the warrior, spinning his blade aggressively. The Sith deactivated one of his blades in a flash and began to spray lightning with his free hand whilst lifting Sev into the air and throwing him at the same time. Sev screamed in agony as the lightning tortured his entire body and he was thrown through the air into an unforgiving durasteel wall. He fell to the ground in immense pain, his lightsaber flying over the edge of the landing pad into the endless urban abyss below.
The Sith then reactivated his second blade and turned his full attention to the Jedi Master before him. Arpad calmly approached the Sith, his sage green saber at the ready, whilst reaching through the Force to soothe his wounded apprentice. The Sith charged him recklessly, his sabers once again twirling in a miasma of bloody fury. The Jedi Master parried his rapid strikes gracefully, but couldn’t find an opening big enough to counter. The Sith, in his combo turned, presenting his back to The Jedi between strikes, leaving a false opening. The Jedi took the bait, raising his saber to attack, at which point the Sith struck with his offhand, stabbing the Jedi Master through the chest.
“MASTER!” Sev screamed in agony, as he watched his Master fall. The Sith then turned his attention to the Padawan, who stood before him defenseless.
“Pathetic.” The Sith said in his cold, mechanical tone, as he launched one of his sabers spinning through the air towards the Padawan. Sev closed his eyes and reached out with The Force, remembering his master’s voice.
“Do or Do not.”
Sev reached out with the Force and grabbed the blade, overpowering the Dark Energy that the Sith had used to guide it.
“There is no try.”
Sev pulled the crimson saber into his hand and charged the Sith, screaming a primal war cry.
“Impressive. Now release your anger.” The Sith said as their blood red blades clashed. Sev attacked with all of his might. All his life had led him up to this moment. He focused. Deep breaths, just like in the arena. No fear. Nothing to lose. As they battled, Sev began to focus, seeing the patterns in the Dark Lords movements. He had always been a top class duelist due to his unique upbringing, even having taught his master a trick or two. The longer the fight dragged, the more Sev could read his opponents movements, seeing them before they happened.
“You can’t defeat me, worm! Look at your master! Surrender! I can feel your hate, I can show you the way to true power!” The Sith taunted Sev. The young Jedi ignored him, his precise focus not letting up for an instant. As he spoke, the Sith twirled his blade to begin an attack combo he had used several times already, with that moment, Sev lowered himself, ducking the red blade, spun around and raised with a powerful horizontal slash at the dark knight’s neck. The blade hummed clean through, sending the Sith’s head spinning through the air, his body standing still for a moment before collapsing.
Sev exhaled, deactivating the red lightsaber and hooking it to his belt, to act as both a trophy and a temporary replacement for the one he had lost, before sprinting over to his mortally wounded master.
Arpad lay before him dying, his face pale with the spectre of death, his breathing labored and hoarse.
“Master…” Was the only word Sev could muster. This man had given him everything. Taught him everything. Saved him from an endless nightmare and brought him into the light, and now, he lay dying before him. This man, was like a father to Sev, maybe even something more powerful than that. The only person in his life who had showed him patience, meaning and love.
“Master, stand up, please…” Sev begged, tears welling up in his eyes. The Jedi Master looked up at his Padawan, seeing the pain in his eyes.
“Child, oh dear child… I can’t stand…” The Jedi trailed off mid sentence, letting out a weak, nasty cough.
“Padawan… Sev… I am so proud of you. You have become a better Jedi than I ever imagined…” The Jedi visibly struggled with the words, his ever calm demeanor still present despite his injury.
“Master, I can save you! We need to-” The dying Jedi held up his hand to silence his apprentice.
“Stop child. My time has come, it is the will of The Force. Your time has begun… You have much to give… Take the holocron to the Order… They will know what to do… You’ve done well child... I’m so proud…”
At this point tears were streaming down Sev’s face. “Master stop please! You can’t die, I’m not ready!” Sev said, speaking less to the dying man before him and more to the Force, begging for some divine intervention.
“You are… ready… child. Do not mourn me… There is no death… only… The Force.” The dying Jedi reached up and grasped Sevs hand, squeezing it tight for one last time before passing into eternal slumber…
Sev stood, holding his master’s lightsaber and the Holocron he had died for…
He looked over at the decapitated corpse of The Sith Lord he had just slain, hardly believing his eyes.
Training is over… Now the story begins.
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