Rafeesh
Character
Location: Approaching dock of the space station
Objective: Assault the space station
Allies: Galactic Republic [member="Mantic Dorn"] [member="Aston Jacobs"]
Enemies: Pirates
Post 1/20
Rafeesh heard something going on outside. Beyond the flames he could hear something. Something familiar. Something that made his skin crawl and him to cringe from the Force. The sound of Force created electricity. He had experienced that from both ends, the originator and the receiving end. More often the latter. He stopped what he was doing, the bent floor beginning to reverse it movement, having been slowly bent outward it began sagging inwards. The room was getting hotter and Rafeesh wondered for a moment if the leak in the tank had saved him from an explosive death.
He shook himself as the sound outside ceased. He still heard blaster fire and similar sounds of war. He could handle those. He had lived in that for the longest of time. He was no stranger to the screams of the wounded and dying. Some begging to be mended so that they could return to loved ones then others wanting their body to be saved and then those few who asked to be left to allow them to die. He was seen Sith executions, while as Jedi and as a Sith. He knew how both sides felt about it. He knew how both sides had felt about the war they had found themselves in.
He began pushing on the floor again, this time trying to cover his hands as the metal grew ever hotter and harder to touch. He was certain that he would have burns on his hands. It seemed forever before he felt something. At first he thought that the ship were shaking as if to detonate. It moved to one side and Rafeesh had weight put on his bad arm, as the ship rolled back into place the pressure increased enough where he yelled out in pain before he was able to move some more. Then the ship moved again, this time further until the hatch above him opened. He fell out and hit the floor, surprised at what was happening.
Before he could even think he felt something pull him along the floor, across a number of shards of transparisteel. It was hardly pretty. He felt some tear through the cloth of his Jedi robes and leave scratches along his back. However he focused on the feeling he had from the force that pulled him. It was too sturdy to be a person. It had to be the Force. When at last he stopped moving he pushed himself up so that he was sitting rather than lying on the floor, with his right hand. He tried to yell to [member="Mantic Dorn"] that he was alright, but the fumes from the burning cockpit had left his throat dry and sore, he found his eyes were stinging as well. He wondered if he could go blind from that. His voice came out raspy as he tried to wave his master to continue, "I'm fine. *Cough* Go on, I'll catch up. *Cough* *Cough*" He continued coughing, trying to clear his throat the scratchy feeling.
He was more concerned with the training blade still in the compartment of the ship. He could fight, he had fought when injured worse than this. He could do so now. He didn't want to be dead weight. That would weaken the team as a whole and he could not allow that to happen. He would fight. Even if he had to use his horns and the Force.
Objective: Assault the space station
Allies: Galactic Republic [member="Mantic Dorn"] [member="Aston Jacobs"]
Enemies: Pirates
Post 1/20
Rafeesh heard something going on outside. Beyond the flames he could hear something. Something familiar. Something that made his skin crawl and him to cringe from the Force. The sound of Force created electricity. He had experienced that from both ends, the originator and the receiving end. More often the latter. He stopped what he was doing, the bent floor beginning to reverse it movement, having been slowly bent outward it began sagging inwards. The room was getting hotter and Rafeesh wondered for a moment if the leak in the tank had saved him from an explosive death.
He shook himself as the sound outside ceased. He still heard blaster fire and similar sounds of war. He could handle those. He had lived in that for the longest of time. He was no stranger to the screams of the wounded and dying. Some begging to be mended so that they could return to loved ones then others wanting their body to be saved and then those few who asked to be left to allow them to die. He was seen Sith executions, while as Jedi and as a Sith. He knew how both sides felt about it. He knew how both sides had felt about the war they had found themselves in.
He began pushing on the floor again, this time trying to cover his hands as the metal grew ever hotter and harder to touch. He was certain that he would have burns on his hands. It seemed forever before he felt something. At first he thought that the ship were shaking as if to detonate. It moved to one side and Rafeesh had weight put on his bad arm, as the ship rolled back into place the pressure increased enough where he yelled out in pain before he was able to move some more. Then the ship moved again, this time further until the hatch above him opened. He fell out and hit the floor, surprised at what was happening.
Before he could even think he felt something pull him along the floor, across a number of shards of transparisteel. It was hardly pretty. He felt some tear through the cloth of his Jedi robes and leave scratches along his back. However he focused on the feeling he had from the force that pulled him. It was too sturdy to be a person. It had to be the Force. When at last he stopped moving he pushed himself up so that he was sitting rather than lying on the floor, with his right hand. He tried to yell to [member="Mantic Dorn"] that he was alright, but the fumes from the burning cockpit had left his throat dry and sore, he found his eyes were stinging as well. He wondered if he could go blind from that. His voice came out raspy as he tried to wave his master to continue, "I'm fine. *Cough* Go on, I'll catch up. *Cough* *Cough*" He continued coughing, trying to clear his throat the scratchy feeling.
He was more concerned with the training blade still in the compartment of the ship. He could fight, he had fought when injured worse than this. He could do so now. He didn't want to be dead weight. That would weaken the team as a whole and he could not allow that to happen. He would fight. Even if he had to use his horns and the Force.