Quinn Varanin
Maynard Treicolt
Loske Treicolt
Darth Assimilus
Cry havoc and let loose the dogs of war
Pain..
A concept many believed themselves to be masters in. Even Kir himself had thought himself at least marginally experienced in what it truly meant, but as the dogs of war echoed around him, he uncovered the vast ocean of death and destruction that plagued all living beings.
It was almost amusing to think about it in such away. To ponder the fundemental nature of it all. Quinn's monologue had planted thoughts in his mind that questioned his being, it was as if his existence was being put on trial. The teachings of Yoda and Skywalker couldn't have predicted what was being experienced on the plain of battle. Interestingly, a great conflict had been mentioned, he'd instantly thought of clashing blades of crimson and emerald, but that wasn't anywhere near what this cataclysmic bout of ideologies was really about.
The padawan peered into the stark eyes of his opponent, moving into a spin, before landing a strike on the golden blade of his Echani adversary. He was stoic in his position as the two tangoed with their sabres. Quiet confidence with an err of methodical caution emanated from him as he let the force work on him. In that moment, he felt symbiotic with the energy field that was everything and nothing at the same time.
As he was about to come in for another downwards cut, he felt a wave that usually would indicate some dark presence. Vesta? No.. the associate of Quinn's was off fighting his own teacher and Master Ryv Karis. Perhaps another Sith? Realising that he'd let down his guard, he flipped backwards, momentarily turning his attention to the large scarlet behemoth that surprisingly didn't seem to be bolting towards him.
The padawan tripped over his feet, managing to veer out of the way of a thermal detonator blast as the being dashed towards Quinn.
Picking himself up, Kir joined the Gen'dai in the pursuit, willing himself into a long force propelled leap. He landed on his hand as he heard
Darth Assimilus
utter the name,
Ashin
Kir had problems discerning the identity of the Varanin, but he was confident that she wasn't the infamous Sith, Ashin Varanin. Her assumed 'predecessor'. The fateful case of mistaken identity might've seemed like a miracle, but in a way, he didn't want it, it didn't feel deserved for her to have the wrath of the giant on her. For all they'd been through on Myrkr, the young woman had made an imprint on him that was probably unwanted.
Releasing himself from the pity he felt for her, he stepped back into the heat of battle, attempting a quick swing on his blade, but this time it wasn't the same. She was scared, and he could feel it as if it was his own pain. Pressing him. And as she fell, he did not feel the burning hatred he once did. He reluctantly rose his lightsaber above his head, and just as he was about to strike her, he collected himself and the moment on the jungle planet raced through his head.
Luminous beings are we...
A myriad of voices reverberated through his mind. Maynard, Loske, Ryv, Quinn, Vesta, Yoda, Skywalker.. everyone chanting his name in unison. Then.
Peace, serenity, tranquility, he felt oceans raising and dropping. The sounds pounding around him ceased to exist and it was just him and her. He knew what to do, he'd always known, but never acted on it. Enlightening.
He lowered his blade and just stared blankly. ”That's enough big guy
Darth Assimilus
. She's had enough."
"I'm sorry Quinn, but I can't do this to you. I can't let you go on without giving you a choice. The Jedi are flawed and so are we, only through the conduit of the Force can we truly know who we are. You are all of Ashin Varanin, and none of her at the same time. The capacity to look past your hatred of me and of the Jedi was not afforded to you and I can empathise."
"The logical thing would be to end you here and now. But I won't. Stop fighting. I won't hate you as you do me, because deep down, we're the same.”
The young Jedi knelt down and his blank expression dissipated, changing to one of warmth as he squeezed her shoulder. ”Rest, escape. Do or die, the Force is within all of us, and I will never forget that. I won't be blinded by rage. Join me on the path to healing, there's good in you."
Turning away, he scanned the battlefield for those closest to his heart. In the midst of battle, he bent his legs into a meditative pose. Allowing the wind to move through his brown hair. By a wall, he could feel in the Force that danger had crept up upon one of his friends. Kir took one last glance at Quinn, managing a small smile, before dashing through the battleground. Coalition and S-IMP troopers alike crumpled to the ground, shot to pieces, their only respite being the mud of their shared graves.
Then he noticed the ailing face of his teacher, strewn across a wall. Continuing his mad dash with a newfound fervour, he soon arrived to the wall and knelt down. All the happiness and insight he'd just experienced, faded away over the course of a few seconds. Tears formed in his eyes. ”Master you're hur- you're fine." He attempted to deny the wound Maynard had acquired. Nothing else mattered except the man who was like a father to him.
"Where's Master Ryv and Loske?" He asked, the blazes of pain and war once again obscuring everything.