Tropic Thunder [Grayson Imperium]

[Pom Stych Tivé]

‘And here it is,’ she thought. How soon it surfaced, does not surprise her. The Nightsister's brow scrunched as she was mocked for speaking by [member="Shanoed Marais"]. The young one wasted no time proving herself as charming a representation. Of course sentience matters, especially if one must kill a thing. 'Maybe such sacred matters are considered trivial to Jedi?' Concerning security measures, one simply cannot rely on the word of a creature which has no basic relational cognition.

Should she rather exhibit no interest then? Regardless of her skills, she respectfully humbles herself, accepting her presence as that of an outsider. 'Maybe this isn't a good idea after all. Maybe this Ashla which brought me here, and gave me a place to sleep, hides a morbid sense of humor.' Were Ashla another male god then Pom would not have been curious at all, for Pom already has a male god, and he is a sadistic bastard.

Being judged before conversation, certainly is not something that happens to her every day of her life, everywhere she goes, by everyone who is different than she, as everyone just so happens to be! [member="Cedric Grayson"] certainly seems like a remarkable anomaly. To an outsider who has been repeatedly treated with disrespect by the Lightsiders, the term Jedi has become an oxymoron. The Nightsister consciously held her level of tolerance in check, for she did not want to do or say anything which would disrespect her host, or put his choice to welcome her in a bad light amongst his peers. However, becoming the object of dogmatism is never amusing. She has no idea why it is she hopes this sect would prove more humane, rational, or civilized.

She looked upward momentarily, taking in the sky hiding a roll of her eyes, a deep breath concealing a sigh, before drawing inward her aura, tucking her emotions down deep inside. This Nightsister would never bow her head nor lower her eyes to another in regret over what she was born into, or who she was born to be.

[member="Alyson Halle"] was polite however, instructing next that they shall walk. 'Jedi don't know how to Apparate?' Pom wonders wide eyed. She plans to ask Cyr if this is true later on. She has taken others along with her while she Apparates before, but they only end up vomiting while landing upon solid ground again, an excellent example of how to secretly get back at bigots! Walk she did.






[member="Talaya Rade"]
[member="Dak"]
[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Indeed, she offered a "Loske" as indication of her name to [member="Talaya Rade"]. She smirked at the jest about titles, and who was worthy of claiming, etcetera. This was good. Established. Now acquainted, there was only one other she didn't know. This new, fair-skinned lady who was mostly silent. Oh, and the Crystal Spyder -- but she didn't seem keen on wanting to get to know anyone. So, that was fine. Another time.

It was backpacks away and this field trip was ready to trumpet off! With no further questions, or adieu, they readied themselves to emerge from the belly of the cavern and onto the path [member="Alyson Halle"] had marked.

Emerging to the landscape was welcomed. Becoming a foot soldier, or someone who largely engaged on the ground, was all too new to the former lieutenant commander. The Wraiths had just started to initiate ground operations, but activity in the outer rim had stagnated for a few seasons. Those she travelled with were more interested in expanding their territory's claims...not something she was particularly fond of.

With the group starting to move as a blob amongst the flora, Loske took this opportunity to quell whatever curiosities she'd had about the smoke-woman, [member="Pom Stych Tivé"].

"I've got to ask," she introduced, adjusting the weight of her backpack against her shoulder. "How in the galaxies did you do that smoke-then-appear thing? Do you have a little magic show happening in your pockets, ready to go? Just a toss of a smoke bomb and you were actually stowed away the whole time?"

[member="Dak"] / [member="Cedric Grayson"]/ [member="Shanoed Marais"]​

 

[Shanoed Marais]

Shanoed's face broke into a bright smile when she was given permission to scout ahead. She offered a bow to [member="Cedric Grayson"] before hesitating. She reached into a hidden pocket and pulled out a small bird whistle, taking Cedric's hand and placing it in it. "Use that to call me back. I'll have this.." She holds up her comm device, shaking it. "Silenced." She then spun on her heel and vanished. The only indication she had left was the splash of her body moving through the waterfall.

Suddenly, she was free. She drew in a deep breath before her energy pulsed, opening her Force Sight and learning the landscape while she made sure the harness for her spear was secure. She knew the direction they wanted to go. That would be enough for the moment. The Spyder leapt into the trees, stalking low while she learned the smell, tasted the air.

Her hands brushed along bark, her toes digging into dirt. Peace. She let the sounds of the jungle wash over her, let her senses be purged of the city jungle.

Crack

She vanished, leaping into a tree. Her head followed the strange creature that walked below her. She crawled out on the branch, trying to get a better view of it. Her movements were silent. She quickly compiled a mental list of soft spots and weakpoints on the flesh raider. Then she leapt away, the tree branch shaking as if a small creature had jumped off of it, instead of a full grown woman. She stayed in the trees, her comm silenced as she had said it would be, scouting out the first encampment.

The Spyder came to rest on a high branch, looking down. Her energy pulsed once more as she expanded her Force Sight, looking at the entire camp without moving from her spot. [member="Alyson Halle"] hadn't lied. They were clearly more advanced than most beasts, but still little more than beasts themselves.

 

[Alyson Halle]

It was time to get moving. Alyson made her way out of the tent, having committed the entire map to memory, she knew where they were going. Sadly it appeared that Shanoed turned away her flare gun, that was on her she guessed. Alyson supposed the girl could take care of her self, it wasn't like she would have much trouble with the flesh raiders. So off they went, out of the caves and into the woods.

The first few kilometers would be relatively pleasant, they could walk through the relatively flat open fields in the river valley, it would be a quiet experience for this stretch without the strange alien fauna to stalk them, and without many flesh raiders to worry about. It was once they started to move up the moutains that the problems developed. The paths were poorly blazed, made by traveling animals as they tried to avoid flesh raider encampments, it was steep, hot, and full of bugs. Perhaps the Dathomiri witch would be used to climates like this, Alyson certainly was. She had spent her fair share of time in hot bug infested forests in her youth, it brought back those memories. They weren't very good ones, but nostalgia was a fickle mistress.

"Keep your wits about you, the force will aid you in your senses, don't rely on your eyes here."

Alyson's senses were well attuned, she could sense everything nearby, she could see the strings that bound them to the force. They were visible through any barrier, understandable from near any distance, it was just a matter of seeing them in the first place. Every cricket, every bird, every strange form of life that she couldn't even begin to undestand.

It would be a long walk.

[member="Shanoed Marais"] [member="Loske Matson"] [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] [member="Talaya Rade"] [member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Alyson Halle]

It was time to get moving. Alyson made her way out of the tent, having committed the entire map to memory, she knew where they were going. Sadly it appeared that Shanoed turned away her flare gun, that was on her she guessed. Alyson supposed the girl could take care of her self, it wasn't like she would have much trouble with the flesh raiders. So off they went, out of the caves and into the woods.

The first few kilometers would be relatively pleasant, they could walk through the relatively flat open fields in the river valley, it would be a quiet experience for this stretch without the strange alien fauna to stalk them, and without many flesh raiders to worry about. It was once they started to move up the moutains that the problems developed. The paths were poorly blazed, made by traveling animals as they tried to avoid flesh raider encampments, it was steep, hot, and full of bugs. Perhaps the Dathomiri witch would be used to climates like this, Alyson certainly was. She had spent her fair share of time in hot bug infested forests in her youth, it brought back those memories. They weren't very good ones, but nostalgia was a fickle mistress.

"Keep your wits about you, the force will aid you in your senses, don't rely on your eyes here."

Alyson's senses were well attuned, she could sense everything nearby, she could see the strings that bound them to the force. They were visible through any barrier, understandable from near any distance, it was just a matter of seeing them in the first place. Every cricket, every bird, every strange form of life that she couldn't even begin to undestand.

It would be a long walk.

[member="Shanoed Marais"] [member="Loske Matson"] [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] [member="Talaya Rade"] [member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 0128]

The empyrean flowed through Tython like nowhere else. As soon as Cedric set foot upon the planet, he had felt its power. Now, striding openly through its verdant fields, he was nearly overwhelmed. Where so much of the galaxy had been scarred and ruined by the Sith, Tython remained pristine. His eyes were half-lidded as he walked along, his thoughts far away from his physical body. The Jedi Master walked in silence for some time, his attentions clearly anywhere but the present.

It was only when they came across a babbling river that he turned his gaze to his companions. Curious of something, Cedric strode up alongside Dak, nudging his old companion on his metallic arm. "What is all this to you?" He asked, gesturing all around to the rather scenic forest.

"To me, I see beauty, life, the balance in action. This is the Ashla, a holy place." he paused, gaze shifting to Dak's photoreceptors as if it had the same importance as eye contact. "What do you see when you look upon Tython?"

[member="Alyson Halle"], [member="Shanoed Marais"], [member="Loske Matson"], [member="Pom Stych Tivé"], [member="Talaya Rade"], [member="Dak"]

 

[Dak]

[SIZE=10pt][member="Cedric Grayson"] | [member="Alyson Halle"] | [member="Shanoed Marais"][/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10pt][member="Loske Matson"] | [member=Pom Stych Tivé] | [member="Talaya Rade"][/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10pt]Dak turns quickly once Cedric nudges him, apparently caught off guard by it. Until the question had been asked, none of what the Jedi spoke of had been considered by the droid at all. His observations of their surroundings thus far had merely been analytical; the direction and speed of the wind, fluctuations in the temperature, degrees of cover along their route, sensor monitoring, and other passive inputs and calculations.

“It is,” he looks around, trying now to perceive beyond his normal considerations. Though his answer likely falls flat “Curious.” Dak considers it a moment longer, struggling to form a relatable, meaningful interpretation of his observations. “I see – water, animals. Insects and plants. I hear natural ambience.” He shifts his head up toward the sky and his lenses shrink to account for the increased intake of sunlight "I understand that this is an ideal environment. Equilibrium. Beautiful, as you said, Master."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]He looks back to Cedric as they march along, though his receptors occasionally glance beyond him to shift between the others nearby “but also... stagnation. Wasted potential. This planet has more to offer than nature; lost knowledge from centuries past and lessons to be learned. Many of which we may only acquire through the disruption of this ‘balance’, in some way.”[/SIZE]

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

The interpretation of what Pom did to arrive here as depicted by [member="Loske Matson"], the Nightsister found rather…unique. Pom truly could not have imagined that the Jedi had no idea what she had actually done. "So you don't Apparate then," she returned in amazed realization. She watched the Jedi woman straighten her backpack, and Pom pondered how everything that she herself requires is magickally tucked away inside her numerous Talismans. "Well, it is quite technical. I learned to step into the Netherrealm, and through Force Sight I can see where both realms can be drawn to intersect. I see groups of people… Force Sensitives. I found Cyr, because I had met him yesterday." Pom saw the Nether as a flat realm which pivots upon its axis, set at the core of the vast three dimensional galaxy. When one steps into it, they can traverse the Netherrealm and come out wherever they desire; although her sister warned her not to mess in the place too much, for it is dangerous. As of yet, Pom holds no justifiable fears over it, when she ought to have plenty.

She glanced towards [member="Cedric Grayson"] as he spoke to the droid. The question as it was asked of her caused her to recall what is in her pockets, her body clad in her typical array of Amulets, Relics, Talismans, and she wore her bandolier filled with her Potions inside her vest lining, with her wand tucked safely away up her sleeve. She contemplated Cyr's words again which he spoke only the night before, unsure what magick of her's would be acceptable here; would it truly be none? When push should come to shove however, she doubts it will matter. Would a Jedi rather die, than be saved by a witch of the Bogan? If so, that would be quite odd, she thought.

She turned again to [member="Loske Matson"] and she asked in return, "Do you wield one of those Light Lasers?" She had never touched one in her life, but she had seen such wonders used in a tournament display numerous times before. She was not born into a coven sect which fought like men, but such practicing Nightsisters certainly do exist.






[member="Alyson Halle"]
[member="Dak"]
[member="Shanoed Marais"]
[member="Talaya Rade"]

 

[Jegy Sesara]

​

Unknown Jedi Temple No. 029​

​

There would be a notable grunt coming from this particular temple, one that had been overgrown from time and lost throughout the course of history. Statues had vines wrapped around them, electronic devices that once served a purpose, now home to insects. Training dummies that once littered the training field, now just old metal poles in the ground from where they once stood. It would been a great place to search...had it not been seized hundreds of years ago by the Galactic Empire and been searched by various entities such as the Jedi Order, the Sith Empire...just to name a couple. However, unlike today where he would dwelve into ruins and explore what can be found, what history that can be preserved, today was more of a day to just get back at them.

Slowly, a humanoid figure would come out from the entrance of the temple, holding a reel of wire with one arm and the other, holding a small can of Juri Juice as he hummed an odd tune. Stopping at the doorway, he put the can up to his lips to sip it but found no liquid which he would groan, tipping it over to see nothing was coming out before throwing it to the side. "Never enough drink for what I want to do! Let me see...where did I put the other drinks?" The pale green eyes of the Sullustan would look side to side before slowly stumbling forward towards a small crate of drinks of various bottles and sizes. Lifting it up with his right arm, he would start walking, even if just stumbling, towards the entrance of the temple.

All his life, he had been constantly berated by every person he ever known. The so called "Jedi" he always met were people who believed in the idea of "good" but kept breaking the law, kept killing for their own pleasure, material value...that was not the Jedi way! Then the Sith, they looked at the Sullustan and called him weak, how his emotions were held back yet when he showed them his emotions, they would then cower away. Those were not true Sith! Then the Inquistors...the Nightsisters...those bumbling fools of "Grays", all of them were pathetic, foolish and stupid! In all of his life, he had avoided them as it made his life hell, his entire self being into a nightmare! They knew nothing of the Force, they did not respect it, they just wish to be powerful, not respectful! Then again...some days, the Sullustan was even guilty of not being respectful towards the Force...and this was one of those days.

Finally, the Sullustan would stumble towards a rather open plain as his ship would not be in sight, having parked it rather far away from here. Setting the reel down next to an old detonator box, he would also set the box of alcohol right next to it and sit down. Trying to pick out his next drink selection, he would run across a more dusted bottle as he blew on the side of it, reading it out loud. "Breath of Heaven...haven't drank this since the wedding reception with Nina." Holding the bottle up towards the light, he would look for contaminants before popping the bottle open with his left hand, it being prosthetic allowed a better grip, and took a long sip from the bottle. It was rich, rough tasting on the tongue with a hint of something dusty. Smacking his lips together, he would enjoy the view before him of the old Jedi Temple, sipping on the Breath of Heaven as he looked up at the sky.

"Oh Nina...I wish you were here with me, sitting by my side, getting drunk with me. I miss you so much...remember that time we outran the Corellians in that dinky freighter of yours? I know, you hate me saying that to old Amaterasu but you know it is true. You should see it now though, I took great care of it for you, not one person has vandalized it on my watch...but Nina, I wish I was dead so I did not have to wait to see you again. I love you, always know that from your goofy thick Doctor...oh I still hate that nickname, laugh it up!"

The Sullustan would chuckle to himself as he stood up, the affects of the Breath of Heaven were much more potent than he thought as the Force itself would be diminished within the Sullustan. Stumbling a bit, he would see on the horizon something that instantly soured his mood, an old statue as he gave a rather big frown. Dropping the drink carefully back in the crate, he would stumble his way towards an old statue on the plains. It was half buried throughout time but it showed a male holding up a lightsaber in some mineral form. Stopping right in front of it, he would point at the male as he was still in a bit of a drunken stupor.

"Oi! How dare you ruin my happy moment! Like you do to all my other moments! It was not good enough to burn down my village...oh no, you had to ruin my life! All you blasted Jedi created all my problems! If it was not for you, I would have my village! If it was not for you, I could have given her the life she deserved! If it was not for you, I would have my wife and child beside me! If it was not for you, she would not have left me to become a better Sith! If it was not for you, I would not have lost my last chance at love to your kriffin people! I hate every single one of you sithspawn kriffs!"

The Sullustan would activate the an emerald lightsaber, swinging it hard as he could towards the statue yet on contact, the lightsaber would deactivate instantly. Not anticipating it, the Sullustan would spin before hitting the ground with a loud THUD. Giving a bit of a groan, it would almost become a yell as he got up, kicking right at the statue as he screamed expletive language at the statue for about two minutes. It hurt to kick, punch and just shove against the statue but it felt right, as if to throw all his frustration out on this one statue. Finally though, he had to stop as he panted, running out of energy to keep fighting an inanimate object. Stepping back, he would put away his lightsaber and pull out an S-3 Mangler Sonic Pistol, fiddling with the settings to get it on wave as he spoke out loud.

"Oh, you think that is so funny, having Cortosis all over the damn statue! Well here is what I think of Cortosis you miserable piece of sithsp-"

He would then fire the Sonic Pistol as a large wave of sonic energy would hit the statue, obliterating the statue into rubble but not without throwing the Sullustan several feet back due to the enormous amount of power outputted. Landing on the plains, he would groan out loud from the pain of flying back several feet onto essentially clay ground which had no give. Getting up, he would grin a little bit at defeating such an imposing foe...well, at least in his own mind as he put away the S-3 Mangler Sonic Pistol. Heading back up towards the hill, he would start to stumble again with his adrenaline high running out as he fell in front of the demolitions box, grabbing the reel of wire as he tried in a poor attempt to wire it to the detonator box. While humorous to watch, inside the temple was not as it had several large deposits of various explosives he collected over the years as he muttered to himself silently.

"I...I am going to get you Jedi, you have your standing momuments of triumph...well we all come from nothing and I will make you my nothing...nothing!"

 

[Marcus Itera]

Tython. The verdant world, long reputed to be the birthplace of nearly every important light-side Force order in the galaxy, particularly the Je'daii and their splinter faction of Jedi that retreated to Ossus. It had been years, nearly decades, since Marcus had last set foot on this world. Back when he was a fresh-faced, wide-eyed eighteen year old in the Republic Marine Corps. Daydreams of military adventurism and an exciting life had filled his days back then.

Now, he was but a mere abomination on the world - likely the only Force Dead creature that had stepped foot on it in a long time. Even just stepping off of the shuttle's landing platform made him feel antsy. As if the entire world was shying away from his presence, with the way the wind blowing branches and leaves away from his jacketed form.

A mental shrug and an inhale.

"Been a while, love," Miranda chortled in a sing-song voice.

"Yes it has," Marcus groaned as he raised his arms to stretch, "Far too long. Not that I ever really planned on coming back anyways. Never cared too much for thick vegetation or the literal spawns of Hell. I remember dealing with the Raiders back as a marine. Not fun."

The AI didn't respond, which told Marcus all he needed to know. She was likely picking through bits and pieces of his memories, searching in earnest for his experiences on Tython, and when 2nd Battalion, 5th Marines had been sent deep into it to annihilate the Raiders. For a world so steeped with peace and tranquility, there was still bloodshed and loss of life at its core.

"Can you find him for me? I know he has a habit of wandering."

Miranda's form materialized in augmented reality before him, "I can always find Cedric. Maybe I'm the Force sensitive one!" She beamed, before her eyes became unfocused.

Fast-traveling, tiny scout probes began to pour from the shuttle behind them. They buzzed quietly, chortling with electronic beeps as they received their orders before blasting off into dozens of directions.

Marcus frowned. "I, uh, guess I'll start heading this direction then."

Here's hoping the Jedi Master wasn't kilometers away.

[member="Cedric Grayson"], [member="Alyson Halle"], [member="Shanoed Marais"], [member="Pom Stych Tivé"], [member="Talaya Rade"], [member="Dak"], [member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Apparate sounded like some sort of verb pulled from apparition. Loske deduced it had some sort of something to do with imagery -- up until [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] started to delve into more explanation. Which was a relief. "The Neatherrealm? Who's Cyr?" The pilot repeated, following alongside the sorceress. There were some other conversations starting to take place, which made the ambling as a group a little more normal than having to feign words across several ears.

She blurted a cynical snort. "No light swords for me, I'm under qualified so far." A little resentful, but she smirked nonetheless. She'd rarely referred to the tool as a lightsaber either, only grouchily referencing it as a glow stick reserved for the space wizards. Now that she'd stepped on Tython, and was navigating it without disintegrating into a puddle of heresy, she was getting more comfortable in her own space wizard skin. Maybe after today she'd reference everything with their appropriate titles.

"What's the NeatherRealm?"

[member="Marcus Itera"] / [member="Jegy Sesara"] / [member="Dak"] / [member="Alyson Halle"] / [member="Talaya Rade"] / [member="Cedric Grayson"] / [member="Shanoed Marais"]​

 

[Placeholder 0128]

"Ever the philosopher," Cedric snickered. "I appreciate your candidness. There is much to this world that has yet to be uncovered. I intend to salvage whatever knowledge I can from its remnants," he paused, brow furrowing as he felt a slight shift in the empyrean.

It wasn't much. Just enough to catch his attention, and flicker out shortly thereafter.

"I don't intend to scar the land, however. There are resources here that we could utilize, and we will do so with some of it, but Tython is sacred to me, and the Jedi. I understand that might not make much sense, but it is important." He added, a finality lacing his words to emphasize just how important it truly was.

The Jedi Master halted as they passed through a clearing.

"I've sensed something off nearby," he announced to the group. "Let's take a detour."

Without awaiting a reply, the Jedi marched off toward the source of that disturbance. It was a short route that led straight through the forest, into a clearing that could easily be missed if one weren't looking for it. Cedric saw structures, and more importantly, a lone Sullustan ([member="Jegy Sesara"]) that seemed intent on discharging his pistol in what looked to be a statue. There was a loud crack, the statue ceased to exist, and the Sullustan ran off to fiddle with some sort of box.

"You know there are flesh raiders within a mile or two of here, right?" Cedric asked loudly as he approached the alien, arms folding about his chest as he peered at what he assumed to be the destruction of ancient and likely sacred Jedi archetecture. "What are you doing exactly?"

[member="Loske Matson"], [member="Marcus Itera"], [member="Jegy Sesara"], [member="Pom Stych Tivé"], [member="Dak"], [member="Alyson Halle"], [member="Shanoed Marais"]

 

[Wyatt Morga]

The Tython Jungle did well to settle Wyatt’s nerves, and he offered a quiet smile as he wandered through the forests. Tython was a beautiful planet, fully engrossing his senses - both physical and metaphysical - in a plethora of good nature, and it did his soul well to be surrounded by such light. Even the smell seemed to draw him in - yet the Force seemed to speak to him in a way he wasn’t so keen to understand.

There was something in the forest that he couldn’t quite get a keen sense on - robotic, perhaps, but it didn’t move like a droids. Nor was it easy to even focus on it - as the more he tried, the more it seemed to slip past -

“What is that?”, he considered, undoing a stray portion of his robes caught on the brush. His steps would take him in the direction of where animals retreated from this void of energy, and his senses seemed not to understand it.

It was only after he cleared the treeline that he noticed a man standing before him - and not just any man, but one that was immune to the Force. It strolled by him, ignored him, some even seemed to avoid him if possible. He winced at the sight - it wasn’t often he faced the Force Dead, but it never got easy to witness something to distant from the Light.

“Greetings, friend!”, he offered with some careless joy. A hand carefully stayed near his lightsaber, aware that a stranger in the forest such as this may be more risk than it was worth.

“I’m Wyatt Morga, a Jedi with the Order here. Is there something I could do to…”, he paused as he glanced around the man, trying to understand what he was armed with, and size him up.

“To help you, on your wayward journey?”

[member="Marcus Itera"]

 

[Marcus Itera]

There were perks that came with being an experimental test subject in the Republic's old super-soldier program. Marcus had grown used to having metal within and without him. Steel senses, reinforced bones, and implants on nearly every important internal organ of his. Thankfully, much of this qualified him for fairly decent healthcare if he couldn't quite fork over the credits to pay for it all. Veteran's benefits and what have you. At least doctors were willing to lend a hand to the poor fella.

With it came an unnerving sense of awareness. It was hard to tune out the smell of a decaying corpse nearby on Tython, to stop focusing on the happy chirp of birds a quarter of a mile away, and more so even the sound of his own heartbeat. Fine tuning his senses so that he didn't go mad had taken years, if not an entire decade, of focusing. Miranda made it easier now that she'd been finally seated within his mind itself, guiding him like an invisible hand.

And thankfully, Miranda had alerted him to the rustling far before it even reached him. Larger than most animals, yet intent on making a beeline straight to where he was walking. The bounty hunter frowned as a hand drifted down to his holster, drawing it to train on the anomaly as it threatened to break through the foliage surrounding him.

A man greeted him quite cheerfully as he made his presence known. A hand of his drifted near the metal cylinder on his waist as he introduced himself. The name was familiar and his claim for being a Jedi seemed all be irrefutable, given the fact that he'd zeroed in on Marcus from such a ways away.

"Huh," the bounty hunter grunted, not dropping the revolver. "Well, just so happens that I ain't the only one out here. Lookin' for an old friend of mine. Grayson's his name, we go way back."

Marcus shifted his feet.

"You ever met him? Your face seems familiar."

[member="Wyatt Morga"], [member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Wyatt Morga]

Wyatt scratched at his beard, working his way to the corners of his ear -

“Grayson?”, he said as though he didn’t know.

The worst part about this character wasn’t that he held his weapon - it was that Wyatt couldn’t exactly tell what his intentions were. As much as he hated doing it, when faced with unknown such as a gun toting man in the woods - it helped to know if they were friend or foe through the gracious nature of the Force. When he realized he’d been buying a touch too much time with his incessant scratching, he put his hand back to his side, hooked his thumb on his belt and shrugged -

“I’ve got one of those faces. Yeah, I know a Cedric Grayson if that’s who you mean.”, he said idly, hoping he wasn’t feeding into the plans of some would be assassin.

“Me and my padawan were just on the way to see him. Would you, uh-”, he paused, motioning to him, but more specifically motioning to the hand on his gun.

“-Would you like to join us, friend?”

[member="Marcus Itera"]

 

[Alyson Halle]

Alyson had noted the lone sullustan awhile ago, he stood out like a sore thumb in the force, the anger and actual intelligence made him rather obvious to one whose senses were keen. When Cedric decided to take his detour, Alyson followed close behind. The anger made him dangerous, she ensured her rifle was chambered before moving up.

"I've never seen a man that angry at nothing." She said as they exited teh jungle.

It was clearly a place powerful in the force, but it was not the temple. The jedi had been here but this is not the main temple, they would have to continue looking to find it. Though she did note the way the force was moving, and was able to get a fix on its vague location. it greatly narrowed the search radius.

"While getting out your anger is a good thing, I don't believe firing a sonic pistol in an area crawling with Flesh Raiders was a best idea. The nearby settlements are rousing and will be here in time, you will have to abandon this site unless you wish to fight them."

[member="Wyatt Morga"] [member="Marcus Itera"] [member="Cedric Grayson"] [member="Loske Matson"] [member="Jegy Sesara"] [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] [member="Dak"] [member="Shanoed Marais"]

 

[Jegy Sesara]

The lone Sullustan would still be fiddling with the wires as he was not even aware of being watched. Such was a thing when the Force was dulled from the affects of the bubbly. Wiring one of the loops up, he was going to connect the next wire as he heard the voice, turning around as he glanced at this rather...unusual party of people. The senses were dulled as he just looked at them while having his hands fiddling with the other wire though being drunkish, he could not tell whether or not he was succeeding, mainly winging it as he heard the supposed human males voice as he spoke out loud, mainly answering him first then the human female, unaware that a person he ran into in the past, Locke, was possibly nearby.

"Oh the Flesh Raiders won't pay me any mind...we are alike, me and them...stop with your tales Jedi, your useless tricks...whatever you turned into today to speak me out of what I want to do! No ghost will speak out to me again!"

It would be rather comical as he stood up, stumbling almost a bit forward as he shook his head, still rather far away from the main group of people though...the lady said something that triggered a portion of his mind. The anger that roused in his mind slowly became of curiosity, sorrow...suffering. The Sullustan would just stand there for a moment as he looked up at her, thinking of some witty retort but it could not come as he turned his back onto them and just plopped next to the box, looking straight at the temple as he held the box gently.

"Fight them...maybe so, maybe let them attempt to kill me...the Force knows I have tried for so long to die. Then again...the Flesh Raiders do not need death in their life like mine. Perhaps you are right...whatever Jedi lady ghost you are in that regard...they are still a being in the Force, why make them suffer what I had to so long ago. There is no need to spread it out."

Slowly, he somberly got up as he held the box, looking at the Temple as he gave a small smirk, lifting up the plunger. Anyone can tell it was a demolitions box, abeit a rather old one but what was dumb was...both wires had since fell away from it. He was literally holding a box to blow up something yet...nothing was connected anymore. With a small smile, he turned to look at the Temple as he finally answered the last portion of it.

"Regardless of your...supposed wisdom, I am going to turn lies into nothing again. I am going to blow this Temple up...and nothing you can do, will stop me!"

He then would press down on the plunger with a drunken grin which...nothing happened. His smile vanished, that sorrow was still there and a bit of anger to as he lifted up then pressed down. Blinking, he placed it on the ground and actually pumped it several times as he yelled in some strange old language which would be Tusken, a whispered one. Finally he would give up, throwing the box towards the Temple as he groaned out, pointing his finger lazily at the group as he would grabbed onto his crate of liquor, almost stumbling towards the group.

"Alright...fine you stopped me from blowing up...the harem of Jedi Master and Apprentice groups old home...fine! What lesson do I have to learn now before I am permitted oh so graciously to destroy this awful place. What possible lesson can thousands of years of being dead can you teach a guy who cannot die for almost eight hundred years. Come on! Tell me that! What can you tell me that no one else had in over the thousands of years your people slaughtered not only my home, my friends and my own wife and son...tell me!!!"

His anger rose at that but when he said the last line, he would stop as he panted, his own drunkness was slowly wearing off. Sadly for him, he had been drinking most of his life so his body was used to the amount of alcohol he consumed on a daily basis...even the stuff he called green was nearby. Probably worse was all that weight kept going to his rear which made him...well thick as his wife once told him. Grabbing a bottle, he would try to drink it though...it was empty as he frowned at it and sighed, just putting it back as he had his own problems, his own personal issues as he merely waited for the Force Ghosts to answer him...even if he cannot tell at all yet they were real.

[member="Alyson Halle"]
[member="Loske Matson"]
[member="Marcus Itera"]
@Pom Stych Tivé
[member="Dak"]
[member="Shanoed Marais"]
[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Marcus Itera]

He could practically hear Miranda's chiding voice already. She was always the softer one, the one who was quick to compassion and hope. The hesitation broke through like a ripple in water, one half wanting to drop the revolver and the other wanting to keep it trained on whoever this man appeared to be - regardless of his familiar features.

Trustworthiness was hard to come by these days.

A smooth exhale later, and his sidearm was twirled and re-holstered promptly.

"Attaboy." Marcus caught Miranda's grin from the corner of his eye. He fought the urge to grunt back at her in reply.

"Yeah," his gravelly voice came, "I wouldn't mind a little company. Lead away, Master Jedi."

[member="Wyatt Morga"], [member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Pom looked at [member="Loske Matson"] at her questions. 'Cyr' was the first name [member="Cedric Grayson"] had told Pomsty the moment they met and therefore she remembered it easiest over his whole name. She pointed towards Cedric.

She would never have believed anyone had never heard of the Nether, but so many other things outside of her homeland added to sheer culture shock. Her homeward had a way of doing things, the rest of the galaxy simply either marveled over or became easily mortified by. Of course this Nether too is likely just something so named by her people, or only utilized for magical purposes. Afterall, it is not like she has seen many living beings waltzing around that realm. Surely if they knew how they would do it; right? "It's the land of the dead," she said, the land from whence most of her power is drawn forth, "by what name do you call it?" she asked, for never before today would she have imagined that even the realm of one's Afterlife, there would exist realms of polar opposites, one meant for those born of Darkness, and another yet for those of the Light to venture. Yet it makes perfect sense it should exist as such, she never saw the Winged Goddess there.

Hearing Cedric speak to [member="Dak"] and calling him ever the philosopher, Pomsty pondered how interesting conversation might be if the droid and she should talk sometime. She has a lot to discover about this sort of existence, which Jedi of her own faction refused to share about themselves by never engaging with her. It seems sort of a surprise to this Nightsister, to find these Jedi not all behaving as antisocial as those whom she came to meet among the CIS. She wonders if maybe the Dogma Jedi live by are as different between system to system as are the many moral codes among different sects of Darksiders, some are particularly unapproachable. The standoffish attitude of those among the CIS caused many to wonder where the label came from that all Jedi are supremely good. She was never shown any sort of gesture, except by one only were she to be honest. She kept her feelers out with this group. So far they seem to be swaying her opinion.

The group seemed to be gathering new members out of nowhere as they travelled on. As [member="Jegy Sesara"] went through his plethora of emotions and talked about a longing for death, Pomsty knew she could grant him his needs, but had a feeling this sort of sharing should she offer, is likely something that would upset Cedric, and is exactly the sort of thing he asked her not to do. The flabbergasted Nightsister leaned upon her heels to peer at the stranger and get a good look at him from where she stood behind Cedric's back. She watched as [member="Alyson Halle"] dealt with the angry stranger.



[member="Marcus Itera"]
[member="Shanoed Marais"]
[member="Wyatt Morga"]

 

[Placeholder 0128]

(Splitting us into 2 groups for the sake of post speed.)


Cedric was wholly uncertain how best to deal with the display. This man was clearly intoxicated, and whatever he might have been feeling right now was likely another up to a solid ten. He glanced back at the group, then to the Sullustan, his brow furrowed as he fought to find the right words.

“I don’t think that’s working,” he intoned as the Sullustan seemed intent on blowing some sort of charges. Nothing came of it, save for an awkwardness he would have rather lived without.

The Jedi was about to speak more when a war horn roared over the valley. A hand immediately fell to his lightsaber as the monstrous forms of flesh raiders poked out from the tree line. The group had been soundly surrounded, courtesy of the Sullustan alerting the nearby population to their presence.

“Form a perimeter around the temple. We can escape through its tunnels.” Cedric ordered as another figure strode out from the trees.

It was bulkier than even the flesh raiders. Standing at nearly ten feet, the cloaked figure watched the gathering from afar. It raised a hand, and when that hand fell, the ground beneath them began to shake violently. It was all Cedric could do just to steady himself as the earth beneath them split apart. Sections fell away as if brought low by detonation, though there was no sound of an explosion, and even he was not fast enough to evade the fall.

The fall was a short one. Pain rushed through his body as he went rolling down into the darkness, the light from above shining down to illuminate his surroundings. That light quickly began to fade as the earth above rumbled back into place. The Jedi bit back a curse, igniting his lightsaber to illuminate the narrow catacomb. “Everyone okay?” He asked of those that had fallen with him.

The section he’d been standing on had included [member="Dak"] and [member="Jegy Sesara"], leaving [member="Alyson Halle"], Pomsty, and [member="Loske Matson"] on the surface. Only the Ashla knew where the other were

Cedric looked to his two companions. They seemed to be stuck within some ancient tunnel carved beneath the temple grounds. He grumbled a curse, “Not what I had in mind when I said I wanted to explore the old ruins.”

Up above, the Flesh Raiders encroached. There were dozens of them, some armed with crude weapons, others modern rifles. At their head strode the massive figure, a wicked sword flourishing in his hands.

Their approach was halted as explosive went off in their line, sending a few of the Rakata offshoots flying in smoking plumes. A handful of Flesh Raiders approaches through the breach, all of them wearing tattered brown robes, weapons in their hands. These rare few were immediately targeted by all those around them, and it became clear that the hole they’d made through the lines were a temporary one.

One of the Flesh Raiders, a younger black skinned creature with a singular eye charged up to the Jedi. “Go, Jedddii, go!” It barked, waving a hand energetically though the break in the lines.