Orron Thrask
More Man than Machine
Orron was on the ground, in pain. He cluthed the remains of his hand which was nothing more than a burnt nub. He was done screaming but that didn't sooth the feeling anymore than his teeth grinding in his mouth. The heat all around him was rising as fire consumed the temple. The distance sounds of fighting could be heard, sabers clashing and blasters firing.
A shadow approched Orron. He looked and could see the black figure before him with a red saber in hand. They were grinning at thier victory over the young padawan. He'd fought to his best but it wasn't enough, not against someone with more epxerience and power as him. Orron felt fear and hate inside him like a violent hurricane.
The figure raised his armed hand, ready to deliver the killing blow, but was stopped by a blue saber that appeared in the hand of another figure. Orron gasped as he saw his father do battle with the Sith, managing far better than he had. A spark of hope was in him now. The hoep that he would make it out alive with his father. They may fail to save Courascant but they could still escape with the rest of the remaining Jedi.
But that hope was lost when Orron saw the red blade drive through his father's chest before being pushed into him by the force. Both toppled into each other before Orron could see his father's face, gasping for life as it slowly faded from his eyes. Orron cried out as his father died in front of him before hearing the laughter of the Sith that had won thier victory.
As Orron looked the Sith rasied a hand. After that there was only fire and pain. And the unending screaming from Orron's own mouth...
It was morning. Another restless night, Orron realized. More unwanted memories seeping into his dreams again. It was always liek this ever since that event. Even during the month he spent asleep while they rebuilt him into the mechanical hybrid he was today. He even looked down at his hands, seeing both were still metallic and robotic. He'd hoped what he went through was a dream and only a dream. But every morning he was reminded of the truth whenever he looked down at those hands or saw himself in the mirror.
With a sigh Orron picked himself up and out of bed, realizing he had another day ahead of him. More time to train and try to concentrate on other things. He picked up his Jedi robes and decided, for today, he would wear them with his hood up. Something about what he went through in his sleep made him to not be completely seen today.
The morning went by as usual in terms of getting something to eat. It amazed him sometimes how the technology of this day and age was able to save what remained of his body and still allowed for him to need food and water like any normal person. It was a touching relief admist everything else he'd lost.
After that Orron went to the training area and stood among an open space with plenty of room for him to exiercise with his training saber. After standing in the clearing for a moment, taking into account his teachings of clearing his mind and letting the Force act as his guide, Orron finally opened his eyes and began to swing his saber around. A side sweep here and an overhead swing there. While part of it was training, the other half was just a way for Orron to try and vent his emotions. To some that would be more clear given the more violent way he swung his saber, trying to exhaust his emotion into his training.
Deep down Orron was picturing himself taking a real blade and slicing it across the Sith's chest or stabbing him through as he did his father.
A shadow approched Orron. He looked and could see the black figure before him with a red saber in hand. They were grinning at thier victory over the young padawan. He'd fought to his best but it wasn't enough, not against someone with more epxerience and power as him. Orron felt fear and hate inside him like a violent hurricane.
The figure raised his armed hand, ready to deliver the killing blow, but was stopped by a blue saber that appeared in the hand of another figure. Orron gasped as he saw his father do battle with the Sith, managing far better than he had. A spark of hope was in him now. The hoep that he would make it out alive with his father. They may fail to save Courascant but they could still escape with the rest of the remaining Jedi.
But that hope was lost when Orron saw the red blade drive through his father's chest before being pushed into him by the force. Both toppled into each other before Orron could see his father's face, gasping for life as it slowly faded from his eyes. Orron cried out as his father died in front of him before hearing the laughter of the Sith that had won thier victory.
As Orron looked the Sith rasied a hand. After that there was only fire and pain. And the unending screaming from Orron's own mouth...
~~~
Orron gasped as he shot up from his bed in the Jedi temple on Tython. He breathed hard as he regained himself, his artificial lungs slowly building up collected air. His face, the part that was still human, had beads of sweat he wiped away before taking a moment to examine his surroundings. It was morning. Another restless night, Orron realized. More unwanted memories seeping into his dreams again. It was always liek this ever since that event. Even during the month he spent asleep while they rebuilt him into the mechanical hybrid he was today. He even looked down at his hands, seeing both were still metallic and robotic. He'd hoped what he went through was a dream and only a dream. But every morning he was reminded of the truth whenever he looked down at those hands or saw himself in the mirror.
With a sigh Orron picked himself up and out of bed, realizing he had another day ahead of him. More time to train and try to concentrate on other things. He picked up his Jedi robes and decided, for today, he would wear them with his hood up. Something about what he went through in his sleep made him to not be completely seen today.
The morning went by as usual in terms of getting something to eat. It amazed him sometimes how the technology of this day and age was able to save what remained of his body and still allowed for him to need food and water like any normal person. It was a touching relief admist everything else he'd lost.
After that Orron went to the training area and stood among an open space with plenty of room for him to exiercise with his training saber. After standing in the clearing for a moment, taking into account his teachings of clearing his mind and letting the Force act as his guide, Orron finally opened his eyes and began to swing his saber around. A side sweep here and an overhead swing there. While part of it was training, the other half was just a way for Orron to try and vent his emotions. To some that would be more clear given the more violent way he swung his saber, trying to exhaust his emotion into his training.
Deep down Orron was picturing himself taking a real blade and slicing it across the Sith's chest or stabbing him through as he did his father.
