A Jedi's Weapon

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Tython was a most sensitive place.

There were reasons the Jedi Order had elected to detach themselves from the Bogan. Tython was chief among them. She was a holy world in the truest sense, so sensitive to the living force that even the slightest change in the heart of a sentient being could have an effect upon her.

For much of the world, such changes needed to be intentional. There were areas on Tython, however, more powerful in the Force than most, and small ripples became akin to tidal waves in such places. It was highly unfortunate that this was one of those places.

Where Wren saw a battlefield, so too did the empyrean. The barrier between mortal thought and ethereal intention wavered, and a mark was made.

Tython itself reacted. With the darkness of memory came that of corporeality. The chirping birds grew silent, and the beast that walked the woods grew still. Temperate air grew chilly, and sounds of things that were not true in a mortal sense drummed from the forests around the group. The artillery that Wren heard in her mind began to thunder all around them, the sounds of men and women fighting and dying playing like echoed whispers on the edges of their senses.

Such was the curse of the Force. Such was the Bogan.

"Both of you," Cedric's tone was deathly serious, and brooked no disagreement. "I need you both close to me." The Blade of Ruusan roared as it came to life, but the sound of its blade was muffled, as if it were coming through an old loudspeaker.

Within the trees, the beasts stirred.

[member="Loske Matson"], [member="Wrenarias"]

 

[Wrenarias]

At first, Wren thought the dying screams and thunder of artillery fire were remnants of the haunting memories that plagued her. It wasn't until Cedric called her back to him that she realized the sounds were all around them. She felt her throat constrict, the instinct to fight flared to life within her as the memories turned to a waking nightmare. Her traumatized fear and the Force manifestations created a relentless feedback loop, making it impossible for the twi'lek to differentiate reality from her own memories.

Cedric's voice faded away, drowned out by a nearby explosion.

When she turned to find him and Loske, they were both gone.

She was utterly alone, and yet surrounded with visceral violence.

"Wha-?" She stammered, her question cut off by a horrendous shriek from behind her. The air was choked with smoke and the stench of death. Her eyes burned from scent of charred flesh and tear gas. Chaos exploded around her. Dust darkened the sky and reduced her visibility, she could see the colorful flashes of blaster bolts ripping through the vague silhouettes of the combatants.

Instinct took over.

She pulled her weapon from the pocket inside her jacket, extending the hilt partially as she activated the blade of jade light. The source of the guttural shriek staggered into view through the thick cloud of dust. It was Umbari, a mercenary soldier she'd known well and fought beside time and time again. He fell to his knees, clutching at his mauled throat. Blood gushed down his chest, soaking through his fingers as he stared up at her, choking him.

It was all still so fresh. A moment once locked away inside her worst nightmares brought back to life in front of her.

He gave a wet, gasping groan as she rushed over to him, deactivating the saber as she ran. One of his hands pressed to her shoulder, his blood smearing across the fabric of her jacket.

"Run." He choked out, blood bubbling from his lips and running down his chin.

"No, no, no. Stay with me, Bari." She pleaded with him, kneeling down as she caught him in her arms.

There was so much blood.

His failing body convulsed in her arms and Wren desperately looked through the cacophonous mayhem for help. For anyone. She screamed for a medic, for someone to help her.

The distinct thrum of a lightsaber flared to life, close enough to be heard over the raging battle. She could see the dull red glow through the whirling dust, prowling closer. A figured clad in black robes sauntered towards her, a hood obscuring his features. He didn't say anything, Wren knew that he wouldn't.

All she heard was his menacing laughter.

Umbari, dying in her arms, weakly pressed against her shoulder one last time. "Run."



[member="Cedric Grayson"]
[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

What in the seven hundred karks was going on. Alarm countered any logical attempt in the pilot’s psyche. She was a foreigner to the ground, rather a tool for the skies, bringing retribution to the stars. Therefore, she’d never seen a battlefield with her own eyes.

Tremouring glimpses of [member="Wrenarias"] ’ projection were nothing but flickers until it became a wholly immersive experience. As pragmatic as Loske tried to be, she couldn’t parse the interactions from reality to falsehood. Mostly from lack of experience between fallen bodies. She hadn’t seen this much death since... ever. The closest the nascent Jedi had ever been to this much strife was Karfeddion. And her recollection on that was fragmented at best after Acamedeis had made her pass out. Everywhere her panicked gaze flickered, there was another wan visage, its final expression limp in twisted pain. Stained forever with its lifeblood. The tattoos of mortality.

Between the corpses, combat, smoke and malicious chemicals, Loske found her eyes watering. Her stomach lurched. The nausea she’d managed to get control of in the past few months tickling at her cheeks and threatening a projectile re-awakening. “Oh my god..” she murmured, clutching at her stomach and mouth while staggering back to seek the refuge [member="Cedric Grayson"] had beckoned to her and Wrenarias.

Where were they?

Loske had been so consumed by the shift from serenity to chaos that she’d lost sight of her friends. After several blinks, and concentrated breaths, she could trace that ethereal tether back to Cedric who was.. surprisingly much closer than she had expected. Like only a pace away. Why hadn’t she been able to see him? Probably the blinding terror and curls of smoke. “What’s happening?” She winced, making a definitive swallow to push back any threatening bile and hoping Cedric’s reliable discernment could bring some clarity to this clusterheck of a situation.

She still couldn’t see the Twi’lek...or.. wait. Squinting into the haze she could see a distinctive silhouette, cradling another corpse. Oh dear. Loske was too deafened by the white noise of the battle to hear the exchanges between the pair, but it seemed upsetting. Upset was confirmed when the woman’s typically soft voice cracked out with a desperate call for medical help.

Loske lurched from her position in the direction of the grief-filled cry. As she ran, she too realized the menacing opponent that was making a clear line for her fellow Padawan. She gulped an “oh no” and reached out to yank Wrenarias up in a hoist to get her moving and away.

And instantly wished she hadn’t.

 

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It had been some time since Cedric encountered a place such as this.

It qualified as some form of force nexus, though its attributes were oddly unique. He'd felt Wren's anguish the moment her memories were triggered, and that awareness swiftly grew to a shared perspective as the world around them shifted. The Jedi Master was both horrified and intrigued - they stood within the remnant of a memory, as if they were living the scene as it had happened.

His curiosities would have to be tested later. Now was the time to save his padawans from the horrors of the Bogan.

"There are places where reality and the Force are one. One's feelings can affect the world around them - whatever Wren's remembered, it's come to life." Cedric snapped off in quick explanation. It was hard to tell what was corporeal and what wasn't. Wren seemed to be holding her old comrade as if he were physically there - would the dark figure that approached have similar attributes?

Cedric wasn't waiting to find out. He stepped forward through the dirt shot up by artillery fire that was not truly there, and found himself halting on instinct. Above the cacophony of noise came the howls of several creatures. They charged through the dusk, their forms cantina, as large as small speeders, and jet black in coloration. They sported no visible eyes, though they seemed to pinpoint the trio easily enough. It was all Cedric could do to march forward, gesturing with his blade to slow their charge. Three of the creatures came to circle around him, their massive fangs bared openly.

He was unsure as to whether these were real, or an illusion, but beasts had been following them earlier, so he was keen on banking on the former. There was only one way to stop this.

"Loske, try to calm her down. The only way to abate this illusion is for Wren to center herself within the Force!" He shouted to be heard, just as one of the beasts lunged. Cedric's lightsaber hissed as it carved through flesh, severing part of the monster's claws and making it flinch.

Quite real then.

[member="Loske Matson"], [member="Wrenarias"]

 

[Wrenarias]

Upon grabbing hold of Wrenarias' wrist, Loske was immediately bombarded with powerful emotions of blinding rage and anguish that grappled with her own internal thoughts. It was as if Wren's emotional state swiftly spread through Loske's arm in a white, searing heat of sheer agony. Under normal circumstances, the twi'lek would have tried to restrain herself, but given their situation there was no buffer in the forged connection.

The only then that saved Loske from losing her arm in the heat of the moment, was that Wren's saber was on the ground next to her, instead of in her hand when the other padawan latched onto her. Consumed by the ferocity of her own memory, Wren didn't know what grabbed. All she registered was that something was dragging her away from Umbari's body while the Sith bore down on her.

Wrenarias exploded into violence, terror and fury driving her actions.

Snarling, Wren twisted around, drawing on the Force as she thrust her free hand into Loske's chest -- attempting to send her imagined assailant flying backwards through a burst of kinetic energy.

Dust swirled into darkness, obscuring her surroundings. Reality and memory blended into an incomprehensible existence. In the confusion, the vision shifted and Wren lost sight of the Sith that stalked her. Umbari vanished in the cloud of smoke.

There.

A flash of light. The apprentice sprawled on the ground at the feet of the Master, his saber slashing through the darkness.

Only it wasn't Jedi that Wren saw... but Sith.

Her lightsaber flew to her hand, reigniting as her fingers curled around the hilt. She grit her teeth together, kicking the ground as she surged forward towards the pair, the blade of light arcing through the air.

[member="Cedric Grayson"]
[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Woohoo.​

Try to calm her down.

For Loske, being discombobulated and teleported around throughout history was not foreign. Being ripped through someone else's emotions, however, was an entirely new concept. Screaming intensity scorched from her phalanges through to her shoulder and mind, causing her consciousness to seemingly explode into a brilliant onslaught of wrought grief. Her lips parted to shriek, but no voice came to her. Instead, a fist did. A fist that had the incredible punch of the Force.

At such close range, the impact [member="Wrenarias"] delivered to Loske was devastating. It felt like a sledgehammer drove through her chest, tossing her like a rag doll backward into the fray of the imaginary war. She skidded along the grass, tearing pieces of it up and creating a clear trough in the mud from where she'd first landed to where she ended up. Projections of salvo tearing up the ground around her like a well-wanted target gave her little time to recover, and she involuntarily twisted to protect her dizzy self.

[member="Cedric Grayson"] was busy now deflecting creatures of impressive mass. With Loske now much closer to him once again, one of them turned its attention to her. On her back, she had little time to react to its attack and had to operate without her blaster. Her arms went over her head in a stretch, and she leveraged all her weight into her lower body to deliver a two-footed kick that met the lupine-like creature in the chest, sending it backward as she leaped forward. Her equilibrium was still disoriented, so she gave herself a purposeful shake to right her head once again. Something flared at the back of her neck, indicating she should move. She was righted now, balanced and steel-hand instinct was taking over. The creature leaped again, and instead of ducking (which it seemed to expect), she snapped her blaster to her hand, aiming it right to the open snarling mouth and pulling the trigger. The burst of plasma was short, and the aim was true enough to have the creature come to a skidding halt at her feet. It was still indiscernible.

By the time she looked back up, the other Padawan was charging at the Jedi Master --- and the Sith that had been coming at them was also encroaching.

Oh no. It didn't take long to recognize the route the Twi'lek was on. One straight for Cedric, who was...kind of busy trying to protect them.

"Wrenarias! Stop!" Loske screamed, extending her own hand as an extension of The Force. The only intention she requested of her ally was to put pause between the rushing emerald woman and the distracted Jedi Master. Not to fling her friend back to the Sith Lord, but only to erect a defensive barrier and put pause in the situation.

Still from a distance, her voice cracked out another high volume plea. "You've got to stop! This isn't real!"

 

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Confusion was the best way to describe how Cedric was feeling right now.

Another beast he lunged. He stepped into its guard, ducking at just the right time for the claws to soar over his head. He rose his lightsaber, and the monster screeched as it was disemboweled by the energy weapon. Its body crashed to the ground a few meters away, nearly cut into two fine pieces. The third creature watched as it cohorts were slain, and seeming to think better of the assault, darted back off into the shadows. Cedric was about to stow his lightsaber and attend to Wren when Loske screamed.

Time seemed to stop as he whirled about. An emerald blade fell toward him, threatening to cleave the Jedi Master from shoulder to hip. He brought his weapon up to defend, but his reaction was too slow, his surprise too profound. It was only the hasty barrier that Loske erected between the two of them that kept Wren's weapon from cleaving straight through the Jedi.

The Sith figure drew close. Cedric's voice was strained.

"Wren," he tried his best to be gentle, but it was hard to be heard over the chaos. "Listen. This is an illusion, Loske's right - none of it is real. You must calm yourself or it will consume all of us," He spoke plainly, though there was emphasized importance to his tone. "You can do this."

[member="Loske Matson"], [member="Wrenarias"]

 

[Wrenarias]

The barrier caught Wren's blade, jarring her arm from the impact. A voice, vaguely familiar and yet strange, called out to her in a panic. Her breath caught in her throat as the barrier held the saber. Another voice, one she almost recognized spoke calmly through the darkness. This one spoke of illusions and calming herself.

Wren's mind was racing, grappling with both the barrier in front of her and the rage that blinded her.

This was nothing more than a nightmare.

One she was well familiar with.

She needed to wake up.

Behind her, she could sense the malice that hunted her, haunting her thoughts and dreams alike. The illusion in front of her wavered, Cedric's face materializing before her.

The peaceful meadow briefly flitted through her mind.

Tears blurred her vision as she glanced towards the dark figure that marched through the swirling cloud of dust.

Spinning around to face the Sith, Wren swiftly dropped to a knee and slammed her fist into the ground and a visceral scream clawed its way from her throat. "NO!"

As her fist struck the ground, a massive explosion of Force energy burst around the twi'lek in a brilliant flash of blue light. The light exploded outwards, chasing away the horrors of war in its wake. The sith lingered a moment longer, head tilted slightly to the side, before he too vanished.

"There you are..." She heard whispered in her mind as his form faded into ash.

Wren stayed kneeling on the ground, gasping her for breath as her body started to shake. "It's not real... it's not real.." She whispered under her breath, repeating the phrase over and over.

[member="Cedric Grayson"]
[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Shielding her eyes, Loske turned away from the expulsion of brilliance from @Wrenarias. Seconds later, the wretched scene that had dominated the location faded away. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief. [member="Cedric Grayson"] was in one piece and Wrenarias seemed to have gotten enough of a grip to end the torment.

Cautiously, she re-holstered her blaster and crept to approach the Twi’lek, wary this time not to surprise her. She announced her coming sooner rather than later. “You did it..” she reassured, glancing to Cedric who was the calmest of the three to take over.

 

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Visions were powerful things, and he'd hoped the two padawans might have learned of them in a far more positive light. It seemed Tython had other plans. He'd worried for a moment that the chaos within Wren's mind might spread to him and Loske - there would have been no escaping that. It was only his center in the Force and his past experience that helped Cedric to maintain himself throughout the ordeal. He glanced down to the eviscerated corpses of the beasts that had been driven to a frenzy by the Bogan's presence.

A cancer indeed. "The path of the Jedi is an arduous one. We must confront our demons, even the most grievous of them." Cedric explained in near monotone as he approached Wren. The Twi'lek was clearly shaken, but she'd survived. That was more than he could say of most.

A comforting hand was placed upon the girl's shoulder.

"Hey," his tone was far more firm. "It's alright. It's over. Tython's given you her first trial, and you passed."

[member="Loske Matson"], [member="Wrenarias"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Wrenarias post:


Much like what happened to Loske when she first grabbed Wrenarias’ wrist, Cedric also was met with a powerful wave of emotion as his hand came to rest Wren’s shoulder. This time, however, the twi’lek’s emotions were far more in check. Lying dormant there was fear and sorrow that burned deep in the woman’s being, a constant heartache that followed her wherever she ventured. Though it was tempered now, a calmness gradually settling over her.

She took a sharp breath when she felt his hand on her. Instinct took over and she flinched away from his touch, severing the connection between them as she pushed herself to her feet.

With her forearm, she wiped a smear of blood from her face. She wasn’t sure where it’d come from. Shaking her head, she took a few steps away from Cedric to avoid him accidentally triggering that bridge a second time.

“Yeah… I’m… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… lost control like that.” She mumbled.

Emotions were powerful, but damnable things. The incredible spectacle Wrenarias had just put them through was testament to the transformative nature of feelings.

P Placeholder 0128 was calm and reassuring, complimentary of Wrenarias’ ability to end what she had started. It was pleasant, and even Loske felt a little calmer focusing on that outreaching presence in the force.

In contrast, the first reaction she had was not her own, it was an installation of her maternal donor. She was frustrated at Wren for putting the group jeopardy. The second wave countered the first, neutralizing it with her true opinion. Wrenarias needed help. Loske was not certified to administer it.

“But you did.” She stated, matter-of-factly. Bluntness courtesy of paternal mentality. “And you could again...that seemed really painful.”

Wrenarias looked as if she were shamed. That wasn’t necessary. None of them had ended up dead or mortally wounded, although it had been too close for comfort on that single account. Her self awareness was instrumental to next steps...or, so Loske would have liked to assume. Again, she had no acadamia in psychology or.. Force visions? Is that what had just happened?

“How can we help you?”

The Twi’lek was obviously wrestling with some pretty immense demons that she couldn’t contend with in solitude. To counter any residual reactions to her first blatant statement, Loske gave as much of a lackadaisical shrug and small reassuring smile as she could muster, though there was still a bit of a nervous shake to her movements “We’re kinda in this together now.”

 

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Emotional anguish was something Cedric was well accustomed to. He felt it like biting teeth the moment he made contact with Wren, and instantly regretted reaching out. He felt her suffering as if it were his own - fortunately the Jedi understood how to cast such feelings aside. He withdrew just as she did, his brow furrowed as unpleasantness faded from his thoughts.



He cast Loske a curious look as she approached the matter with all the tactfulness of a drunken bantha. “One’s emotions shape the living force. It’s why we must learn to control ourselves,” his voice was quiet and gentle, a decent contrast to the blonde’s. “It’s okay though. These are the trials of Tython. This planet is just as alive as you and I. Just as the Force reflects onto us, so to do we onto it. It will bring forth your darkest memories in hopes of resting your mettle: to make sure you are worthy of becoming a Jedi.”



He gestured toward the bestial corpses nearby. “It’ll probably happen to each of us, but like Loske said,” he cracked a reassuring smile, “We’re in this together.”

Loske Treicolt , Wrenarias

 

[Wrenarias]

As Cedric pulled his hand back from her, Wrenarias grimaced and turned her gaze to the side. Guilt weighed heavily on her and she was quick to put more space between her and the other two Jedi. Her hands vanished inside the pockets of her jacket and a muscle at the corner of her jaw flexed as she clenched her teeth together.

She knew how unpleasant it could be for someone to touch her. It was why she went through so much effort to avoid any physical contact with those around her. Hindsight is twenty-twenty as they say, and she realized that it'd been a mistake not to tell Cedric about her... condition.

Unsure of what else to say, she gave a small shrug of her slender shoulders and managed an apologetic smile.

"It won't happen again." She said firmly, nodding once.

P Placeholder 0128 | Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Loske was still dubious about this entire situation, and such was evidenced by her expression. P Placeholder 0128 had said the circumstance they'd found themselves in was based on Wren's whelved memories, and her feelings. Wrenarias ' feelings were obviously overwhelming and powerful, Loske had seen and felt them at just a touch. Not to mention the full projection they'd just witnessed. She didn't need to beat the dead horse with further commentary on how uncertain this made her - she'd play a supportive role in this adventure.

The other learner promised to keep herself in check.

"Should we keep moving, then? See what other goodies are in store?"

 

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"Good plan," Cedric agreed with Loske.

He understood quite well what Wren was. Her kind were rare indeed, their number reduced even moreso by the force sensitive genocides that had spread across the galaxy in the past decade. Cedric had only ever known one other of her ilk before, and that had only been for a brief time. To meet an empath was a rare experience, but to train one?

There was a lot Cedric needed to study if he was going to help Wren get a handle on this.

"Hopefully the rest of the trials are a bit more pleasant," he added, adopting an easy smile with the hope that such would put the two women at ease themselves. He wasted little time in trudging on, passing through the clearing with a spring to his step. The forge was not particularly far away now.

"So you're an empath," Cedric intoned suddenly, turning his gaze to Wren. "That's rare. Extremely rare." His gaze turned to Loske, "Congratulations Loske, you and I have just met the Force's equivalent to a unicorn."

Loske Treicolt , Wrenarias

 

[Wrenarias]

The twi'lek offered one last apologetic smile to Loske, one tinged with embarrassment, before she turned to follow Cedric across the rolling field. She stepped around the slain beasts that were strewn across the ground. Death was something Wren entirely too familiar with.

She took another deep breath and slowly exhaled, hoping that the others would move on from what happened in the clearing. Cedric, however, decided to bring the obvious to the forefront of the conversation. The truth of the matter was... she didn't know what she was. The Jedi Master giving it a name so easily should have been reassuring; but when he clarified that the condition was a rare one, she couldn't help but feel a little crestfallen.

She'd hoped for something a little less... complicated. It shouldn't have come as a surprise, nothing in life was ever simple.

In response to Cedric's unicorn jest, Wren chuckled quietly and awkwardly rubbed the side of her neck. "Heh... maybe I should start some sort of freak show exhibit. Could make some credits that way..."

Loske Treicolt | P Placeholder 0128

 

[Loske Treicolt]

An empath? She'd never heard the term relative to a person's abilities before, but basic deduction suggested it was a root of empathy and empathy was having both the ability to understand and share the emotions of another. The sharing must have been what they'd experienced, which meant Wrenarias could impose her impressions on other people, and alter their perceptions of their own reactions. Going through this mental exercise, Loske mouthed an awed 'wow'.

It seemed levity was attempting to restore itself amidst the trio as they cut through the grass, which had gone back to just being a meadow versus a battlefield. Being a Jedi so far was weird. It was from highs to lows in zero-point-five, and someone was just supposed to accept that as the norm.

Wren joined in the jokes with P Placeholder 0128 , the pair explaining uniqueness and the freaky potential. Creating a self sustaining show sounded costly, and perhaps it'd be more advantageous to become an instrument -- oh. This was Marcello influencing thoughts again - the realism from her paternal donor receded with a shake of her head and consciously putting her own pysche forward. That was a curious psyche indeed.

"Have you made projections like that before? Do they have to be from memories you were part of, or can you make something new and fresh up? Like, architect a faux reality and make someone believe it?"

 

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"Might not be a bad idea. Ashla knows we're always short on credits." Cedric offered, eager to continue the easy atmosphere they'd established. It occurred to him that this was likely all rather new for the two students of the Force. Cedric had grown rather used to the esoteric nature of the living Force - there was little about it that surprised him anymore. He needed to adjust his thinking to account for the two of them - the fact that he had not yet fully more than a bit of a mistake.

It was one he wouldn't be repeating.

He considered jumping into the conversation for a moment, but thought better of it. Loske's question was a good one, and it would be a lie to say that he wasn't a bit curious himself. Empaths were a bit foreign to Cedric, and what he knew of their abilities came from a handful of conversations and a few old articles in the archives.

Nothing concrete.

Wrenarias , Loske Treicolt

 

[Wrenarias]

"Nothing... like that before." She murmured quietly after the question Loske posed. This was the first time she'd been on a planet with such a profound connection to the Force. It was as if the ethereal was bleeding through a veil into reality. That unique feature of Tython had taken Wren's innate ability and compounded it immensely, well beyond her ability to control.-- not that she had much capacity to control it to begin with.

"What I can do is a type of projection, I guess. Similar to what you both felt earlier, only... more directed. In a fight, if I maintain a constant physical connection, I can influence a person's emotional state by projecting my own. I haven't tried conjuring something from thin air... my memories tend to be enough." She explained as best she could, though it was rather obvious that she wasn't accustomed to talking about her condition.

"It can be a double-edged sword though... it's rare, but there are some people that I touch where a two-way connection is forged. Meaning that whatever they feel, I experience as well. Or if I inadvertently override their consciousness entirely... it creates a sort of... feedback loop." She pulled her hands from her pockets to gesture with them idly while she spoke.

Loske Treicolt | P Placeholder 0128

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Fascinating.

Wrenarias discussing the ability in the context of a fight was intriguing, but seemed double edged indeed. Only truly beneficial in a situation where there was candlelight and rose petals.

Having to maintain physical contact seemed tricky in a battle, and if she was feeling defeated then it would make her assailant feel defeated, but how true would that emotion need to be? She asked: "Can you fake an emotion, or does it have to be genuine? For example, if you wanted me to feel..uhm...tired. Would you have to be naturally tired when we touch, or can you pretend by trying to remember what it feels like to be exhausted?"

P Placeholder 0128