Captain Jordan

Star Wars - Jedi Exile.

I apologize for my rapid-fire posts. I needed to catch up with the rest of the story, so these posts explain what Jerek was doing when the Temple was hit and his progress over the course of the story. I don't intend on maintaining this pace or length, I realize this is casual and not advanced, so please forgive me if you think these are too much or too long.

With this next post, my character will have reached the service tunnels and is open to encounter anyone within the area. I'm happy to write a collab or just go back and forth if someone wants to.

Star Wars - Jedi Exile.

White-sheathed troopers plagued the corridors of the Temple, leaving the floors littered with unmoving forms of trooper and Jedi alike. As the pair ventured forth beyond the main level of the Jedi's sanctum, the bodies of their fellow brothers and sisters became a more common sight. Jerek had staggered the first time they had come across one, a Jedi in his middle years, pockmarked with several, smoking holes. The Knight's lightsaber had still been clutched in his hand, cold fingers wrapped tightly around the object that had failed to save his life.

Now, the pair moved quickly, passing more bodies than Jerek could count. From time to time, Beck stopped them, sensing clones blocking their way. He did his best to maneuver the pair around them, avoiding a firefight if at all possible. For a time, the strategy worked, but it was inevitable that the duo would have to fight at some point.

That point came when Beck stopped Jerek too late, having already planted a foot down the hallway occupied by a mass of white armored bodies. The mechanical click of the trooper's headset could be heard as one of the clones alerted the rest to the Jedi's presence. Beck pulled the boy back, hauling him out of the corridor's intersection, letting the troopers make the first move around the blind corner.

Jerek's breathing was still labored, but he forced himself to slow it, letting his mind open in a well-practice manner. It drifted to the place where he found knowledge, peace, and new hope. The boy breathed it in, taking in the world around him as if for the first time. The heavy clatter of boots was growing louder, shadows growing in the hallway before him. Planting his feet how he was taught, the youth grasped his lightsaber in his right hand, drawing it back as he set his left forward in a well-practiced stance. With a flick, the green blade of his sword leaped into being, humming eagerly as the boy waited.

A second passed. The boy glanced to his side, eyeing the downward-cast blade that Beck held, brightly colored with vibrant, yellow light. The darker-skinned man gave the boy an almost imperceptable nod, and Jerek flicked his eyes back to the hallway. The troopers were emerging from the crossway, the first wave crouching as they aimed at the Jedi pair.

Blue bolts of deadly fire emerged from the ends of their blaster rifles, sending Jerek into action. His blade moved without a thought, whirling, and the bolts flew harmlessly away into the walls and ceiling. The boy paid for the effort with a sharp pain in his lungs, gasping as he moved to avoid another round of blaster fire. By then, Beck was on the attack, moving through the wall of Clones. His yellow blade sliced through their white and blue armor, effortlessly carving a pair of troopers like a stuffed, holiday bird.

Distracted by Beck's advance, Jerek launched himself at the nearest Clone, the last one still crouched to allow those behind him to fire unhindered. The boy's teeth ground together as he swiped at the trooper's face, hearing a growl emerge from his mouth. The Clone reacted by leaning back, knocking his head against Beck's swinging elbow. Propelled by the force of the collision, the soldier's face fell cleanly onto Jerek's blade, separating itself from the body it once owned. Smoking, pink flesh was exposed as the trooper's helmet fell away, leaving the lifeless body to cascade forward. The youth jumped back as he felt the troopers body collide against his own, a squish eliciting from the body parts yielding to an obstacle.

The boy stared at the results of his handiwork, a death wrought at his own hands. His knees felt weak as his head reeled, its earlier dizziness returning with a vengeance. Jerek's stomach churned and he tasted bile in his mouth. A hand appeared on his shoulder, the large, strong palm cupped his shoulder and held him steady. Though reassured by Beck's gesture, Jerek couldn't help himself from leaning over and emptying the contents of his stomach onto the floor.

Jerek remained bent over until he felt the last of his sickness fading away. The bitter taste still remained within his mouth, and around the edges. He brought a sleeve up to his face to wipe it away, but a hand was already there, holding up a cloth instead. The boy uttered a word of thanks as he took the cloth, using it to remove the evidence of his brief weakness. He took the hand once more as he stood, grateful that Beck's compassion was reserved for him rather than for the troopers. Jerek put a hand to his mouth as he gazed over the dismembered remains of the Republic's finest, relieved that his lunch was already proudly marking the floor before him.

The Jedi pair staggered as the floor beneath them rocked. A series of explosions could be heard, the sound muffled by layers of walls and floors, but the destruction was no less real. Dust rained down from the ceiling as large pieces of the Temple's infrastructure cracked and freed itself from its mounts. The concrete hail studded the floors of the corridor, embedding themselves like icicles in the snow. One such chunk of ceiling attempted to splatter the pair of soft creatures beneath it, but Beck caught the debris with the Force and threw it clear, leaving the duo unscathed.

"Come," the older Jedi beckoned, his hand gesturing onward. "We must keep moving."

And that's exactly what they did.

-to be continued-

Sane, Sanity, Sanitary, Sanitarium

Griever said
Vsauce is for

Vsauce is like Bill Nye for adults, it's accessible and an easy way to be both entertained and educated. No one said it was the height of academic learning.

Sane, Sanity, Sanitary, Sanitarium

Kaga said
Vsauce answers everything.

Vsauce is awesome! I mean terrific! I mean— dammit!

Star Wars - Jedi Exile.

Rounding a corner at a running pace, ignoring the pleading to stop from his tired muscles and aching lungs, Jerek found himself heading towards a squad of soldiers. White armor, blue trim, respirator masks, these soldiers were the Republic's elite Clone Troopers. The Jedi Padawan visibly relaxed and his rapid breathing slowed, whatever the danger was in the Temple, the clones would soon take care of it.

Jerek found his breath had disappeared as the dozen troopers turned their rifles on him. Caught with his guard down, his lightsaber inactive and his feet still poised to take another step towards the troopers, the boy suddenly realized how exposed he was.

Stupid.

His eyes widened as fear took over, his breath returned in little gasps. Jerek gritted his teeth, steeling himself for what was to come. For death.

He didn't shut his eyes, but the youth's vision was suddenly filled with the sight of his brother. Not as he was in Jerek's last visit with him, with grey, papery skin, deadened eyes and a wan smile as the machines beeped and hissed around him. Nor was he still ten years old, this version of his twin brother was as old as he was. The two had never been mirror copies of each other, and Elias' chubbier figure had turned into a strong frame, larger than Jerek's slender one. His blond hair was just as shaggy and unkempt as Jerek's own, but Elias' head lacked the thin braid that marked Jerek as a padawan learner.

Jerek took it all in, his spirit accepting this vision wholeheartedly. Elias grinned at him, laughing as if at some shared joke between them. Like it used to be. It was how his twin should look, how Jerek would want his twin to look in the last memory of his life. Hold on, Elias, the boy shouted loudly, I'm coming to join you!

Gravity took hold of his body as the floor vanished beneath him, and Jerek was falling. He closed his eyes, his mind holding on to the image of his brother, his mouth moving, whispering over and over, "Almost there, Elias. Almost there."

"Almost where?"

The pain in his head was agonizing, a sharp searing that threatened to split his head in two. Jerek's eyes watered as he opened them, and the world swam within his vision. Eventually, a clearer picture emerged through the watery haze, a figure standing over him, hand outstretched. The boy took it, placing his slender, fair-skinned hand in the larger one, a weathered palm scarred from age and battle alike. The darkened fingers wrapped around his own as Jerek felt himself being pulled up, hauled to his feet by the stranger. Wobbling, the youth leaned down on their connected hands as the world settled around his dizzy head.

The stranger repeated the question, "Almost where?"

"Huh?" Jerek asked instinctively, peering around the stranger at the oddly misshapened, white-clad forms on the floor beyond him. He squinted, trying to figure out what they were.

"You were saying, 'Almost there, Elias.'" the dark man elaborated, moving his head to block the boy's view. His eyes were gentle, staring with compassion through a hardened face.

"Hees my brother," admitted the youth, his tongue moved slowly, making his words sound thick to his ears. "Waz," Jerek corrected himself, "waz my brother. He died yeers igo."

"I see," returned the stranger simply. "I know your pain more than most, but we cannot let feelings cloud our judgement right now." The man let out a breath, crouching to put his eyes at the same level as Jerek's. "Hold still," he said.

The stranger placed his large hands around the boy's skull, eliciting a short cry from the teenaged padawan. Quickly, the youth felt a soothing sensation wash over him, dulling the pain in his head. He blinked quickly, shaking his head gently as the large man's hands receded. "What did you do?" Jerek inquired, looking on with a mix of admiration and curiosity.

"You have a concussion," the man explained, "I helped relieve some of the pressure, but a proper healer still needs to look at it. Right now, though, we have more pressing matters to attend to." His faced took on a pained look. "I fear I may have caused it, and for that I apologize. It was a necessary measure in order to incapacitate your attackers."

It was then that the realization settled over Jerek. The white forms behind the stranger were the remains of the clone troopers, the ones who had pointed their weapons at the boy. If the older man had not intervened, Jerek would have surely been killed. "The clones," concluded the padawan, stating the fact instead of phrasing it as a question. "They're trying to kill us."

"I'm afraid so." Inclining his head, the stranger stood straight once more. He offered his palm to Jerek again, "My name is Beck."

"Jerek," the boy replied, placing his palm in the older man's for the second time that day. Suddenly, his head jerked back. "The lower cargo bays," Jerek blurted out, recalling the clue his master had provided him. "I think my master wants me to head there."

"Who is your master?"

"Vor'loch," Jerek offered as Beck nodded in affirmation.

Gesturing with his hand, Beck concluded simply, "Then to the lower cargo bays we shall go."

-to be continued-

Sane, Sanity, Sanitary, Sanitarium

While you're at the dictionary, find out when terrific diverged from terror and terrible, and awful from awe and awesome.

Rabbit Doubt: The Vacation Murders

I believe Squee's in class today. I expect this means she'll work on the story post when she gets done with class.

Star Wars - Jedi Exile.

His breathing came quick and hard, the effort straining his already-overworked body. Despite his screaming muscles and gasping lungs, the boy pushed himself on. His limbs danced through the complicated routine as he willed his body to follow, shutting out the sounds and sensation of the blaster bolts passing harmlessly to either side. They moved with him, but he was too fast, always dodging in time, or moving the emerald-hued blade of his training lightsaber up to block the deadly bolts. The shock of the bolts connecting with his lightsaber blade made the boy wince every time it happened, rattling the joints of his arm as he absorbed the shock and tried his best to aim the deflecting bolts back to their origin.

As the session continued, his arm began to weaken and the bolts flew askew, far from their intended destinations. He paused to wipe the sweat from his forehead with the back of his cotton tunic, a move that exacted a heavy price, the red lasers zeroed in on their target and unleashed a hailstorm of bolts. If the boy jumped, the bolts flew skyward. If he ran, they followed him. Through the dampened locks of hair that hung down across his eyes, their normal blond color darkened by heavy sweat, he could see the mechanisms firing the bolts, tracking him as he moved, slowly wearing him down while they, as machines, continued in perfect synchronization.

Jerek Zenduu was well aware of just how quickly he needed to finish off his antagonists. The simple way, the easy way, would have been an attack of pure aggression. The blade of his lightsaber could easily cut through the automaton's motors, severing their link to the weapons, destroying their ability to wage war against him. Yet even as the beleaguered youth knew the ease at which this method would end it, he could not set himself upon that path. To do so would be to defy his master's instructions, instructions that Vor'loch gave quite seriously.

Sending another blaster bolt straight back at one of the targets, causing it to hiss as it burst into a miniature explosion of smoke and flames, Jerek permitted himself to grin. He considered it a personal point of pride to achieve a successful score in this exercise, a point that would be greatly devalued by a bullheaded charge at the remaining targets. While his training as an initiate had never focused much on combat, his master Vor'loch, an adept combat specialist, was making up for Jerek's lost knowledge.

Elias would have just charged, one part of the boy's mind pointed out. A small part, easy to ignore at first. He felt a twinge of guilt while doing so, but Jerek needed to devote his entire attention to the task at hand. He couldn't be distracted by the memory of a brother who had been dead for three years. The task before him required his utmost concentration.

A wave of grief and pain suddenly overwhelmed the Padawan, causing him to utter a cry as he felt his knees giving out beneath him. Thudding onto the hard, marble floors, Jerek's body was overwhelmed by a series of stinging sensations burning into his arms, torso and head. The smell of singed flesh, burnt hair and smoldering cloth reached his nose as the stinging assaulted him, tiny darts of pain that drilled into his body. His concentration broken and focus just a distant memory, Jerek reached out with his mind, flinging out his hand as he called forth a wave of energy through the Force that pushed outward from his open palm. The stinging stopped, and the noise around him gave way to the sound of the quiet sobs emanating from his mouth.

Jerek sat that way for a few moments, breathing deeply, allowing his mind to process. His heart pounded against his ribs as his chest heaved, each breath drawn painfully through aching lungs. When focus returned once more, the boy opened his eyes, drying them with the sweat-soaked cuff of his sleeve. The burns in the woven cloth caught his eye, and Jerek glanced over himself, counting dozens such marks over his skin and clothes. His gaze followed their path to its origin, a trio of toppled gatling blasters, their servo units quiet as they lay still. Without a target in their sights, the fallen machines were as good as dead.

In an instant, the boy was on his feet. Having felt the touch of his master's mind in his, Jerek could not ignore the panicked thoughts that Vor'loch had sent him. Even the brief connection the two had shared was enough to give the Padawan an idea of what faced him. The Temple under seige, soldiers invading their sanctuary, death. He bolted towards the exit, blocking out the pain his lungs, the rivets of flesh and cloth chafing from the miniature burns and the aching muscles of his legs and arms. Vor'loch's message had burned the image of the lower cargo bays into the boy's mind, and so that was where Jerek turned to head.

As he rounded a corner, however, the Jedi youth ran straight into a squad of white-armored soldiers. The instant they saw him, a dozen black rifles turned toward the sandy-haired boy.

-to be continued-

I saw The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

HAHA!

I'm waiting until all the Hobbit movies are out. Then I'll binge them in a 9 hour fest. If I can make it through that, they're good. I just don't think it's worth my time to sit in a theater for 3+ hours for a single movie, even one made by Peter Jackson.

Multiple Avatars?

Legend said
I'd just like to know a rough, estimated time when we'll get custom profile pictures back. I can work from there.

Mahz is working on it. He'll let us all know when it's done. You'll just have to be patient.