Justice for the Departed (GA/Jedi/Neutral - Anyone else PM)

[Jarak Kai]

-Aboard the Grave-labour vessel 'Servitude'-


He had not tasted a drop of water for six months, yet did not die.

Valitorix had been a live, healthy Torgruta male of twenty-nine galactic standard years, but the grinding in his shoulder joints told him this was a lie. He felt ancient, but hadn't the features to prove it. He knew he was somehow sick, but he couldn't say how or when it happened. He knew he wasn't this way before coming aboard this..

"It's not a ship." The words passed over flaking lips, as his voice tried to reason with the train of despaired thoughts running through his mind.

"It's not a ship.. it's not a ship." He repeated himself until he tried to weep. No tears flowed, and he hadn't seen out of his left eye in sometime, at first it blurred but eventually went black. These events were played through day after day after day until now, someone had noticed his neglect of the now, of his tasks.

Valitorix turned around to see the figure, stood in grey robes and wearing a mask that appeared to mock his misery back towards him.

"We're losing this one.." The figure said, his voice was strangely muted but amplified at the sametime. Too deep for his ears to process clearly, but Valitorix knew he wasn't talking to him. A second man approached.

"Into the pyre." He heard that. He was afraid to hear it.

"No! No, I'm working. I will work. I am not finished." The words sounded alien to him. It didn't sound like his voice, but he attributed it to forcing the words through dry throat and over lips that now looked more like worn leather. He quickly reached out and grabbed the nearest tool and pushed forward with desperate enthusiasm. The renewed fervour convinced the second man quickly enough, but the first lingered for a time. He could feel him assessing him, not his body, but his spirit itself.

After several more agonizing moments, the darkened enforcer moved on, hunting more weakness and decay in what could only be described as a graveyard in space. But who were these people? Why did they take him? Who were the others in chains around him? He didn't know and didn't want to. He wasn't sure he could take anymore, and another's burdens would surely bury him alive in his anguish. The worn man looked at the women beside him. She had replaced another, but he never set eyes on them. He was too afraid. Now, as questions battered at the door of his sanity, his curiosity seized hold of his actions and turned him to face her.

She was a human and couldn't be any older than himself. Her skin was a waxy texture in pale colour and her hair had several hacked cuts within it. As if she knew his eyes were upon him, she turned to him. She seemed to be coping better than he was. It was impossible to be certain, as a smile required a full mouth and she was missing a large part of the side that hadn't faced Valitorix before. Dry bone was exposed, her eye was missing and yet she talked calmly, without pain and with no terror like he was feeling.

"Come on. If we keep working, we should get to our destination sooner." She turned back to her work and redoubled her efforts. Valitorix's body froze, but this information wasn't new. It was then he remembered. He reached up to where his eye had gone black. His fingers felt a dried wound, complete with exit wound at the back. Then he heard the sound of blaster fire again, confirming it to him for what felt like the hundredth time.

"I was killed." He said, feeling that he had this revelation at least once a day.

He looked down at his hands. They decayed before him and had been this way for a long time. An embracing cold provoked a sense of calm over his broken body. What could only be described as a cool breeze passing by him, and washing over like a wave. He felt something, finally. Not the pain of exposed tissue or mortal wounds, but as if reaching a peak upon an arduous journey and breathing in that first breath of fresh air at the summit. He could almost see it. In place of a rising sun, came a piercing blue glow which emitted a sense of liberating power over him and his fellow passengers.

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The bearer of the sunrise strode forward purposefully with intent, but he was not welcome here. That became clear when he erased the
first man who attempted to charge him. The mask the would-be assailant wore, fell in two upon the deck. In his right hand, he carried their destruction, and in his outstretched left hand he brought release for the trapped souls aboard the hell-ship. The device his hand hummed with power as it actively went about undoing all around the intruder.

Step by step, grim-faced departed showed an expression of release as they became one with the force. It was clear that the ship itself and the artifacts the slaves worked upon, suffered in the power that poured from the device. Sparks erupted from a host of ill-forged relics, pages of an ancient tome turned and set themselves ablaze. The crew of the ship, the 'boatmen', they called themselves, had gathered around what this man was seeking. For what? They didn't care. Either way, they knew he wasn't about to accept any surrender.

'Somethings are too much to forgive' The man thought to himself, as he finally locked eyes with one of the Departed. His gratitude was evident and it soothed the man as he stepped further into this abomination of a vessel.

As he reached the end of the walk-way, he turned about and looked back at where he came from. No one remained, only the corpse who's cloak had caught fire from the embers of a burning tome. The rest of them were past this door and most likely guarding what he had came here for. He placed the spherical device back into what looked like half of an hourglass. It hung from his polished leather belt on a hybrid chain, alternating between white and black pearls. It was no less hostile to the environment in this sling. He raised his hand and placed it against the door. His being extended beyond the limited restrictions of his body and surveyed the room.

'Six living beings. The Force will do with them as it sees fit, but if they try to stop me...I'll judge them myself.' He thought to himself, as he lifted up the item he had destroyed the assailant with. A blue lightsaber, weapon of the Jedi Knights, guardians of peace, deadly warriors yet merciful. Jarak Kai, Jedi Knight, had spent all the mercy he had in his being, and he gave it to the Departed. He plunged his saber into the wall, dragging up as molten material peeled, dripped and set fire to non metallic items around him. Jarak was careful not to let the embers his coat, even though it was resistant. He felt a bit of a resistance and then...

...the door opened.

Two crimson glowing points came at him. They had been waiting to lunge at him the second he stepped in, but this scene had already played out in the Jedi's mind. The force was spiteful to the designs of 'cunning' men, and Jarak used it to show them the error of trying to ambush a force user. He twisted the blade to point towards the floor, even before the large door had receded fully. The speed of the movement caused one to be that little bit slower than the other. Only a split-second, but a large window for a Jedi Knight. Jarak caught the crimson energy with his saber and batted away the later strike with his first assailants own weapon. He pivot on his heel, but the grace of the movement provided no sensation of friction beneath his foot. The movement brought him within range of the first attacker and with a quickened rush of a humming sound, he was cleaved in two. The second opponent was struggling with the weight of a second light-spear weapon weighing down the point of his own. The opening exchange had taken barely two seconds in the normal perception of time, but now the Jedi had cut through the first man and now the ones who had been preparing alternative attacks behind them, were caught in a hopeless position.

The Jedi Knight did not quicken his pace, deliberately. Those who inflict terror on others are often far worse in a terror state and the next man proved this theory, as he struggled to even cock his weapon. The man panicked and attempted to charge as a crimson bayonet erupted from the front of the weapon. The Jedi leaned left but then somehow went right quicker than the man's eyes could register the action. The rifle was now under Jarak's arm and he reached forward to turn the safety 'off'. The masked rifleman looked down, his mind flooded with confusion, annoyance at his own failings and then finally, a lightsaber as it cleaved through the weapon and straight through the mask.

The next two came at him with lightsabers. Part of him was glad to see it, as he didn't have to get creative to devise a way to slay these men. They'd chosen it themselves when they chose to engage a Jedi Knight with his own chosen weapon. The fight lasted longer than it should've, but even that wasn't more than a few moments. It became clear to the remaining men that Jarak had used the men as a screen to close the distance between them.

He had practically danced through their attacks, forcing one saber into the gut of the other, locking them together and separating both heads from their shoulders in a single clean swing. Another masked slaver opened fire on the Jedi, which forced a disorientating light show as the initial blast was sent hard into the roof, blasting a hole and causing debris to fall behind the advancing Knight. The other six shots landed into the chest and mask of the carbine-wielding slaver. The last three shots came only from reflex as the man had spasmed, gripping the trigger as he fell. The last remaining slaver, the survivor of the two who attempted to impale him as the door opened, stared in terror. To his credit, he was rapidly breathing, attempting to summon the bravery to take him down. It was clear they had some form of training, but not enough, and not nearly enough time to prepare. They didn't even know how he could have boarded the ship, but it was irrelevant now.

The man threw the first spear at Jarak. It stopped, perfectly still, then dropped with a loud clang on the floor. The Jedi reached out, raising the last slaver up and yanked his hand back to him, pulling the man through the air so hard, he thought his neck might snap. Jarak turned and with a decisive swing of his blade, he heard two impacts behind him as he quickly ended the fight. He turned his attention to what brought them all to this room, and, what provided the twisted powers aboard the ship. Upon the pedestal in front of him in what looked like a bowl you would serve food in, were a collection of black, obsidian-like shards and fragments of rock.

"Malachor." He said aloud, and he swore he heard the ship respond.

Jarak looked at one of his few tech devices. He could see the ship was in orbit over a populated planet. Not ideal, but he didn't have a choice. Despite being a Jedi, even the artifact wouldn't protect him forever. Eventually the shards of Malachor would find a way to consume that energy. He had a limited time to erase another part of the Sith Empire's legacy, and he wasn't going to waste this chance. He unclipped the hourglass containing the sphere, which accelerated into a frenzy the closer he brought it to the shards. With a dismissive turn and he let it fall into the bowl, he walked towards the door. He heard the sparks, the crack of lightning and dispersal of twisted energies as the remnants of Darker days tried desperately to fight off it's destruction, but without anything to feed upon, this ship would now finally die. The Jedi Knight picked up half of one of the masks on his way to the front of the ship, sliding it in his pouch. All of this would need to be documented with the Jedi, and Jarak had a lot to share with them.

He did his best to guide the ship, but this was made challenging by the ships inability to hold itself in one piece and disruptive energies tearing holes in the ship with unnatural green lightning. He lost two of four engines before even passing through the atmosphere and narrowly dodged a large sporting event as the ship hit the ground hard, about a kilometer from the stadium. He did his best to minimize the collateral damage. Jarak dusted himself off and headed back towards the room where the shards had been housed, but it was gone. The perfect cuts into the metal of the ship told a story of how the shards had vaporized this section of the ship, and with it, the shards themselves. Jarak could hear sirens, speeders and onlookers rushing towards the crash. Considering he didn't know who was approaching, he decided discretion would be the wisest step to take. He placed his hood over his head, and moved off the wreck.

The Jedi Knight would attempt to blend in with the citizens of this world, establish where he was, then, if all went well, return to the Jedi.

[Adar Bolner]

Adar was situated in meditation while waiting for the operation to begin. It was a simple task. At least simpler than his other assignments by the Jedi Counsil. As always, when the young Padawan had free time, he entered Force meditation in order to grow his connection to the Force. It was something that had gradually been happening, but it required almost daily practice. Aside from that, meditating in the Force helped calm Adar, and the last thing anyone needed was a rash acting Jedi. It was then that he felt it. A disturbance. A clash of Light and Dark in the Force. This jolted him out of meditation, breathing heavily. The ripples of that clash were too strong for him. He was just about to drop everything to investigate and offer assistance to what he hoped was a Jedi, but when he tried to sense for it again, he was unsuccessful. It was then that his friend and assigned Ranger, Kilt Vindon, walked into the room.

"So, why are we on this planet again?"
His tone was one of boredom and frustration. He wanted to be were he would be most useful, not in a squad of GA officers and operatives. But despite voicing his contempt and disapproval, when the order would be issued and the operation would begin, he would be the first to follow it. That was just how Kilt rolled.

"You were at the briefing Kilt. I believe you are fully aware of why we are here."
Adar could not help but smile fondly of his friend. He knew that he would come through when he and everyone else needed him the most. And as he saw him, he set aside his worries about the battle that was at the same time ranging above, in orbit of the planet.

"Yes, but why "we" ? I am sure there were plenty of other Rangers and Jedi that could take the job, and with similar efficiency as ours."

"Well, the Jedi Council wants its future knights to have good relations with the Alliance personnel. So it sends its padawans in missions like these. Escorted of course, which is why you are here."

He paused to gaze his reaction. Kilt had scoffed at him being merely here as his escort, but he also let out a smile that said "he is joking but I'll play along". Adar smiled as well, and grabbed the Ranger's shoulder before continuing to speak.

"Besides, it is just a rogue smuggler. Nothing we can't handle."
And with that, the two went to gear up in order to be ready on time. Being fashionably late was a bad habit that they had better stop.

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While Adar and Kilt were busy with finishing their mission, the Grave-labour vessel 'Servitude' was plummeting towards the planet's surface. From the moment it flew by the city until it crashed near a stadium, a deafening sound echoed throughout the land. As it passed above him, Adar sensed a terrible dark energy, which made him get goosebumps. He felt a bit worried for a moment, thinking that the Dark presence had come out victorious, since he could feel nothing of the Light presence he had felt earlier. He could be seen hastily grabbing his equipment, and moving in the direction of where the ship was headed. Kilt, despite not thinking that the local authorities would handle it, did not want to see Adar get in trouble. So he reluctantly followed.

As the two approached, the sound of sirens and people grew loud. But what surpised the Jedi padawan was the dark energy, or the lack there of. Instead of some powerful and malicious Dark sided Force user, he could feal the presence of the Light side, with mere traces of the Dark. Far before the authorities begun investigating, he knew there was no one on that crashed ship. And so, the Padawan and the Ranger decided to check around the crash site.

[Jarak Kai]

He had attempted to guide the ship down, but in the end had been no more than a helpless passenger, as helpless as a force user could ever be anyway. Jarak gave up trying to decide which actions were his own and which were guided from consciousness based elsewhere. They were one and same, a Jedi and the Force. That was the defining difference between the Jedi and the Sith. At the lower spectrum, it's a Jedi with a heavy shield they're trying to become familiar with, batting away an aggressive youth with an attack dog. It's a handicapped battle, but at the higher tiers, it's a different story. The shield becomes a 'plus one' and that attack dog's fervour has become a lot stronger, but easier to predict. Jarak always felt the force rewarded Jedi who reached their pinnacle were rewarded for their patience and discipline, though he wasn't that far off, the way the force talked to him, or moved through him, didn't seem all that similar to the others. He definitely wasn't the first, but people like him were few and far between and rarely co-existed in the same time frame, such was the rarity of a Sith being embraced by the Jedi.

Their patience had paid off, and that leap of faith Jarak underwent was rewarded with mutual trust. Now there was no question, Jedi and those who intended to do good, could do a lot worse if he arrived to lend his aid. However, his earlier days had caused him to become proficient in blending into crowds. Sith were very good at clinging to the shadows, and Jedi had a way with crowds. Jarak had tried not to lose too much of the former. He now wore his hood in the orthodox manner, his armaments and attire obscured from mortal vision, but not that of the force. He could feel his crystal in the chamber of his lightsaber thrumming away, as if it was still feeling a form of adrenaline, coming down after clashing with the crimson kyber energies aboard the Servitude.

Crystals were excellent amplifiers for force users, though it made them easier to find by others once the blade had ignited. Jarak's eradicated a calmness over the area, which, seemed to effect those closest to him, as they fidgeted the least and didn't push forward in the crowds. For him though, it provided clarity. Pushing away the smoke and grey clouds that loomed around at ground level whenever the Darkside manifested itself, it allowed Jarak 'sight' above all else. He had tested this theory, sparing with a blindfold against other Knights back in the day when he kept their company. Though it wasn't new to Miraluka, and they proved the best instructors when he sought guidance. Now, he was one impressive swordsman, closer to the force and less on his martial ability to create a beautiful hybrid of the two.

It was the gap in the thrumming of the crystal that caused Jarak's head to snap to the right. Like a sonar of sorts, it was symbiotic with Jarak's senses, showing him a 'blip' on his perception of the area, and sure enough, there he saw something he hadn't expected.

'A Jedi?' He asked himself, because he wasn't sure. Jedi came in all shapes and sizes and very rarely looked uniform, but this one had enough about him to trigger some recognition as he moved his way through the crowd, separating himself from the barriers the local enforcement were trying to set up.

It was moments before he found himself alone from the flock and stood a little way from the two apparent investigators.

"I wouldn't touch any of that." He said calmly. "There's somethings a bucket of soap and water will never wash away."

[Adar Bolner]

As the Padawan and the Ranger looked around in the site, they did spot some footprints leaving the crashed ship. Kilt was the first to speak "So someone made it out of there alive, and in a hurry. At this point, he could be anywhere within the city." Adar nodded, but his attention was placed elsewhere. He was trying to sense more about the ship, and the Light sided individual that had left these footprints. It was all so clear to him, in a way that Kilt would never understand. Still, he was still a padawan. He had so much to learn, and thus knew so little. He tried and tried, but he couldn't get anything more. The more he pushed himself, the more the Force closed off to him. Feeling a bit frustrated, he let out a sigh, and did some stretches, in order to relax and return his feeling to a neutral state. Kilt again pitched in to offer some direction and purpose to what was essentially a detour from their other mission, even if it was all but over at this point. "Shall we get a closer look?". Adar turned to face the Ranger. "Sure. Maybe we can find clues as to what happen and then help the authorities."

As they moved closer, Adar suddenly stopped. A warm, calming presence in the Force was nearby. Definitely not Sith, but he wasn't going to assume it was a Jedi just yet. It wasn't likely, but some people or items give off these effects in the Force. He turned to see a hooded individual approaching them. As he came close, Adar could feel that he was armed. A Lightsaber. He had only seen a couple while in the academy, but he could always sense the kyber crystal that powered them. That would have made him wary, but the calming Force energy acted against it. Kilt realized that someone was approaching, and instinctually put his hand on his blaster, ready to fight if he needed to.

The calm voice of the man and his choice of words put the Ranger slightly at ease, but he was still ready for anything. Adar sensed that Kilt was tense, so he took the liberty to speak for them both. "There might be survivors, or perhaps clues as to why this ship suddenly crashed in the middle of a city. There is no need to worry, we are far more capable than we may look" As he said that, he motioned towards his clothes, making sure keep his vibroblade and blaster hidden. Kilt did no such thing, but he did come closer.

What Adar had said was a half truth. He knew there was not a living soul in the crash, but they did want to know what happened. Perhaps this man was the one who left the footprints, the Light sided individual who battle against a terrible Dark sided energy. Reaching through the Force, he could feel it was unusual around him. He was in total sync with the Force itself, something even his Master was not always able to do. Was he an extension of the Force's will? It was hard for the padawan to say. Adar wondered if this man had noticed that he was Force sensitive, or even a Jedi. He decided to introduce himself, and then see what his intentions were. He would of course ommit mentioning that he was a Jedi Padawan. If he called him out, then he would speak honestly. "I am Adar Bolner. I work with the GA. And you sir are?"