[center][b][color=red][h3][I]Ben Solo[/I][/h3]18 | Padawan | Dagobah[/color][/b][/center]


[indent] The panic that emanated from the white knights were instant. Ben frowned, his features hardening into a cold calculation. It was so painfully obvious that they had heard the term before, that they had been warned of it. Their panic was soon replaced with a tempered and aimed aggression. 


One of the soldiers harshly jabbed the barrel of his blaster towards him, motioning towards the ground as he yelled, “Down on the ground now! Jedi are not welcomed in the galaxy of the First Order. Neither the air we breathe, sky we fly, or space with explore! Down or we shoot!”


[i]Tsk[/i] was all Ben could manage from himself. The meager threats couldn’t be back up when compared to his power in the Force. He was, for lack of a better word, a proxy of the unrestricted talents. 


[color=red][b] “You,”[/b][/color] he paused and swept his eyes onto each soldier with finality. [color=red][b] “Have no idea who you’re messing with. Soon you will though, soon… you all will.”[/b][/color] 


“I said dow-” His loud orders were interrupted as a concussive wave of the Force plowed into him and his two comrades. 


Ben flicked his lightsaber to life and as its breath simmered, sizzled; he ripped another of the soldiers behind him and against the hard stone. The fleshy [i]thump[/i] of his body, followed by the sullen slide of his body to the floor could be heard through the armor. 


The last soldier helped the first to his feet. Ben imagined that if his mask could convey expressions that it'd be near one of the extremes of terror and awe. As the man went to drag his comrade away, Ben stepped in pursuit of them back up the stairs. 


[color=red][i]At least they’re loyal. Alot more than my own father, [/i][/color] He sighed softly. 


It was an effortless task to corner them with his senses in the Force. He knew the general layout of the temple from his earlier probing. Before long he was standing over them, falling into a crouched position, and extracting what he needed from them. The First Order… it was a militant movement. Some form of army against The New Republic. 


The process left the last soldier drained and Ben utterly tired of looking at him. Living the man's recent life had sorta reminded him of his own and that was just pathetic, especially considering he was a prince. His lightsaber came to life again. 

[color=red][i]Better to kill you now than you getting the idea of shooting me in the back later.[/i][/color][/indent]