Extreme Window Shopping [Ession Reformation]

[Other Space Kaiden]

Hyperspace slipped by just beyond the other side of the glass; a continuous whirlpool of mystery that could be accessed but never explained. One could gaze into the dramatic pulsing lights all of his life and never take a single step in understanding it. Science could break down life itself into numbers and compositions, but not this realm of existence. This realm was sparred the dissection and categorization of men and women bent on breaking down the universe's mysteries into incoherent hems and haws. Even The Force, praised for being the most powerful energy in the known galaxy, had not been shown the scientific mercy that Hyperspace had. Hyperspace was so far beyond the comprehension of mortal beings that not even the most strong willed, microscope wielding defilers could pollute its nature.

Ozamu didn't take this mystical dimension with a grain of salt, as most modern men did. It was not common to find something in this galaxy that had the humbling vastness presented by FTL travel. This had gotten Oldman Oza thinking very critically ever since he first stepped foot on an Ession craft; maybe he had been looking in the wrong places for spirituality. Almost his entire life, Ozamu had tried to distance himself from modern technologies; mostly because even the prospect of flipping an on-switch was not an easy one for the aging Atrisian. It wasn't that he was stupid, he just shared a mutual hatred with most technology. It didn't work for him most the time, so he didn't work with it. Ever. Perhaps, though, he should have been embracing technology this entire time.

The ways of Budo'Kaikara, the ancient Atrisian art passed down through his family, had always taught spirituality in the form of inner strength and discipline. It didn't outright curse technology, but it did praise nature as the ultimate key to spiritual enlightenment. What if those ways were outdated? What if he had reached the pinnacle of what the old ways had to teach and now he was on the edge of expanding the existing knowledge? It was possible that some technologies would allow the living to access spiritual planes that only the truly wise could see for their true nature. Perhaps Hyperspace was the first step in the discovery of something grander on the scales of life.

Such things were uncertain, they required meditation. Lots of meditation. It wouldn't hurt to read farther into the Jedi Codes as well, perhaps he would find more wisdom locked away in their texts. These were all matters for another time, however, for he was on a mission from his new...friends? Allies? He wasn't sure yet, but they were something. The Archlord of the Ession, a child compared to Ozamu, had asked him to retrieve blueprints from a long dead Empire. The Archlord claimed that they would be of great use to the Ession and that the mission would be simple, the truth of the claim would be put to the test soon enough.

Ozamu wasn't worried that the Archlord had been mistaken or was lying, he was more concerned about the company they sent him on this errand with. He wasn't good with young people, he may have been a master but he hadn't done much mentoring. In fact, the very idea of mentoring a child frightened him half-to-death. Youth were so unpredictable and hard to convince after they were old enough to stop believing in the magic of Sithmas. He knew this because he used to be one of those youth, and he remembered damn well what a pain he was.

With a gentle sigh, Ozamu looked over to the girl in the seat beside him. What do young people even like to talk about? Skateboarding on the sidewalks?

 

[Rusken Shaxx]

Eyes closed, but not sleeping. Rusken was lost in his own thoughts as he listened to the soothing whispers of the ship travelling through hyperspace. His head leaned against the cold steel of the interior, uninterested in any conversation from the strangers around him; a common goal was at hand, and that was enough. His helmet sat in his lap, leaving his wrinkled scruffy features exposed to any prying eyes that might be curious about the old man. His armor, though, was decorated with scars and burns and chipped paint. Furs and cloths clung to his neck like a collar, and a kilt bearing the mark of the Republic hid away worn leg armor.

Just by looking at him, a story could be told. One of timeless efforts where battle was routine, and the worst of wars had been fought.

But all melodrama aside, he wasn't very sure why he had boarded this vessel. The only thing he could find himself relating to was the belief that the Republic had become like a glass of water being tainted by trash. It simply wasn't what the people needed it to be, and protection was at a price little could afford. The Sith reigned and sucked dry the purity of things, leaving a thirst to be quenched for those too weak or small in stature.

Rusken had been alive long enough to see the rise and fall of many Jedi, and mainly to pleasures of corruption. Age hadn't done him much good, but it did help him become a much wiser man who can see beyond the veil of misconception. In this new day and age, those who receive the gift of being one with the Force are all about flash and style or wooing one another for favors behind closed doors.

This old man simply wanted some peace and quiet, and to do his duty to the best of his ability. And he would tear down this modern image of materialistic grandeur the best he could. One Sith and one criminal at a time.

He opened his eyes only to express a scowl that seemed permanently fixed to his face, eyeing everyone around him. He reached into a small pouch at his side and retrieved a cigarette which he placed gingerly in-between his lips; a lighter was procured from the same pouch, using it to spark the hand-rolled cigarra. He took a drag and then exhaled, grunting softly.

 

[Katrina Garnier]

Kat wasn't the most talkative person in the Galaxy. She was first and foremost a scientist whom worked alone for good reasons. It wasn't that she didn't like people more of that she was empathic so she could feel everything. It was a gift she much didn't like even though she could control it. When she did she felt less like herself if that made sense. The Master knew that nobody would understand this but she was fine with that. She didn't need for them to understand her just give her a place to work.

What she was doing on this ship with other Jedi she didn't know was beyond her. Kat had been called to go on a mission with her fellow Jedi and bond as well. She had tried not to roll her eyes when told and just go with the program. It was hard though. She wasn't bubbly and it seemed neither where their. This was going to be a long trip.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she slid down a bit her her seat closing her eyes. Hopefully this place would have something useful for her and she could show her Sciency side. She wanted peace, not some dangerous mission to nowhere no matter how many skills she had. Kat was done with war and was happier in the lab. If need be she would play up her lab geek side.

[member="Ozamu Tzang"] [member="Rusken Shaxx"]

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

[member="Katrina Garnier"] [member="Rusken Shaxx"]


Ozamu shifted in his seat, scratching nervously at his skin. These two were already beginning to pick at his mind with their uneasiness. The smoker behind him was pulsating with uncertainty, almost like he wasn't sure if he wanted to be on this mission or not. Then, you had the young woman who couldn't stop thinking about the dangers and who definitely didn't want to be stuck in this situation. They were both showering him with these depressing emotions and it was driving him mad! There had to be an order to this mission, everyone had to be on the same page; just like his father had beat into him for years.

Oldman Oza didn't want to mingle with these two more than he had to, but the itch was picking at his brain yet again. He didn't identify himself as a Jedi, so who knew if these two sad sallys would even listen, but he couldn't stand this anymore.

"Will you two clear your minds?" Ozamu spat suddenly, "balance yourselves, do not let these emotions get the better of you."

Ozamu turned his entire body so he could stare at both of the Jedi without snapping his neck in three different places, "you Jedi are so full of suppressed emotion all of the time, its maddening. Surface all of your emotions and level them on the scales of your soul, but do not let them bang around your mind like this." ​His tone was that of a teacher giving guidance to a student, calm but strict.

 

[Rusken Shaxx]

Rusken looked at the bickering man, rasing his hand up to draw the cigarra from his lips, blowing a ploom of smoke at him. Indeed, he was unsure of himself and others among the Republic might agree that Rusken was unfit for service since he didn't personally like to adhere to today's political agenda. Correctness was one thing he failed to do as a Jedi. "Listen, pal. I know you're tyring to sell me good advice but I'd be better off without it. You wanna preach? Do it to the Republic." He put the cigarette back into his mouth and inhaled deeply. His lungs were in bad shape, years of smoking will do that to a man. His words would have escaped his lips in rapsy, grumpy old-man type manner.

One might say that he had no more care for life, thus becoming fearless in his speaking. If this guy had something to pick with him, he'd better do it some other time. For now, there was a mission at hand.

[member="Ozamu Tzang"] [member="Katrina Garnier"]

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

[member="Rusken Shaxx"]


Ozamu gave his fellow old man a dull glance, shaking his head before speaking. "You say this as if they would listen any better than you have." the Atrisian gave a dismissive wave of his hand, "force-users today are far too undisciplined; no focus, no handle."

Nothing said military operation quite like a bickering contest between two old bafoons on a starship. The Atisian simply sat back in his seat, taking another gander out of the window. There had been a slight shift in hyperspace, it was subtle but he could feel it. They were about to drop back into sub-light speeds and that meant the time for action was upon them. He had tried to help the "companions" Graxin had sent him with, but it seems he was words were wasted. He knew it was going to be a waste from the start but he had tricked himself into believing he could teach an old Jedi dog new tricks.

Violently Ozamu was thrown back in his seat as the ship dropped from hyperspace and into the Dubrillion System. Rumor had it the short-lived Fel Imperium had made a home here, thus why they were sent to retrieve the old tech that may have been lying around. He was almost sorry he had agreed to this mission, but it all served his greater purpose and that fact alone gave him peace.

Always look forward to a brighter future. Never back at what could have been.

 

[Katrina Garnier]

"Both of you, stop it." Katrina stated sitting up from where she was sitting. She definitely didn't need anyone telling her what to do or these two bickering. The woman had other things to do than go on a mission with people as intolerable as these two were becoming. This was not the way she wished to start off this mission. If they were going to get anything done the three of them needed to all get along.

What interested her was what [member="Ozamu Tzang"] stated about emotions. It was possible that he was also an empath and if so Kat would very much enjoy hearing about his experiences. It would be nice to have someone she could relate to here. It would make things not so awful.

"So, what is this mission thing we signed up for again?" She sighed as they began landing. Kat honestly couldn't remember what she had been sent here for but they didn't need to know that.

[member="Rusken Shaxx"]

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

[member="Katrina Garnier"]


"You must learn to retain information, young lady" Ozamu answered very matter-of-factly, "we are here to find what left over weapon blueprints we can from old Fel Imperium ruins here, Graxin seems to think they will be of use"

Oldman Oza sighed, looking out the window and across the green planet below. "I personally see this as but another step toward becoming what he said we would not." these weapons would, perhaps, be a turning point in allowing the Ession to become a major power. At what cost would these weapons come, though? The Fel were radical warmongers who summarily executed hundreds of thousands of Sith and their followers; who knows what kind of terrible weapons they created.

 

[Shalita Verd]

Synthea stirred upon the seat that she had seated herself upon as the argument that surrounded her carried around within the confined area. A sigh fell upon her red painted lips as her right hand lifted to thread into her black locks, her deep blue eyes were revealed as she opened them. It was then that a frown descended upon her brow as she glanced at the occupants within. They are like a pack of dogs simply looking for an excuse to reprimand each other, she thought to herself before she lifted her arms above her head as a stretch took over. A yawn parted her lips before she rolled her head from one side to the other. “You all are too hung up on whatever principals and morals that govern your mind.” Were the simple words that the woman spoke upon the subject. The Shi’ido couldn’t care less about the force that the moment, for it had caused her far too much trouble in the past. For now, she was happy to deny the fact that she was a force sensitive. She had gotten this far without it, why would she need it now? Although, it was still a nuisance, for she still didn’t have a handle upon the anger and hatred that boiled just underneath the surface.

With a roll of her shoulders, she took a quick glance over her form, grasping the edge of her black coat to pull it close and buckling it closed so then the katana that was sheathed and hung from her waist was hidden from prying eyes once more. It was the only blade that she carried with her, even though she wasn’t an expert at such a weapon. Just simply showing the weapon to an opposer with a show of confidence, sent them packing. Although it didn’t always work. Her gaze fell upon the cigarette that the man opposite to her held and a smirk played upon her lips while a purr entered the tone of her voice. “Mind if I have a drag of that?” She asked as she nodded in the direction of the cigarette that the man had returned to his lips. Synthea would then angle her head to the right as the smirk upon her lips widened, “Sleeping is such hard work, so I’m sure that inhaling just a little wouldn’t hurt, in fact, I’m sure that it will help to… Balance my mind.”

Her gaze would then flicker over the man’s form, taking in his appearance. It was a habit that she had taken up for she hadn’t had a lot to do while in captivity, so observation was a skill that she had taken to honing. The wrinkles visible upon the man’s face, told her that he was a man of age. The scar visible upon both the man and his armour also told her that he had seen battle, whether it was one on one or more than one, was the question. However, patience told her to not pry, at least, not yet. “Ozamu, you joined the Reformation of your own free-will, remember? Mr Rade is our oh-so-fearless leader, it really isn’t our place to question his orders. Besides…” The woman lifted her right hand once more to comb through her black locks as her thoughts turned to the memory of the man that had sat behind the desk with that serious and thoughtful look. “I’m sure that Mr Rade has his reasons for wanting these weapon blueprints. Much like I’m sure that you have your reasons for joining the Reformation.” Her gaze had drifted away from Rusken, but it soon returned to him as she perked a brow, the purr returning to her voice once again. “So, about that cigarette.”

[member="Ozamu Tzang"] [member="Rusken Shaxx"] [member="Katrina Garnier"]

 

[Rusken Shaxx]

And so the hassle of idle chit-chat had surfaced. As if the previous banter wasn't enough talk, a new face had the guts to chime and ask Rusken for a drag of his own cigarette. Now, typically, he was a humble and very quiet old man who stuck to his own business and did what he needed to do. But when someone bothered him simply because they had to fulfill their wants, he became your average grumpy old man whom cursed like a sailor. He looked at the young woman and furrowed his brow further than it already was. "You can piss off and fight a few wars and earn your own time to smoke, kid. This generation of the galaxy is such a sorry sack of rancor sithspit." He went back to drag on the rest of his cigarette, putting it out on his breastplate and then flicking the butt onto the floor.

"Let's get one thing straight before I have to hear anyone else whine about how we should play nice. For one, I don't care about much else but the mission itself. The objective is key, not your feelings. Secondly, nobody else ask for my smokes."

He let out a typical angry geezer grunt and placed his helmet on his head, a mechanical clicking noise notifying that the battle armor was functional and synced. At least he wouldn't have to make direct eye contact with anyone anymore. Rusken wasn't such a hard-ass all the time, but for the most part, he was still bitter over the loss of friends. Nothing ever got any easier for him after his service to the Jedi Order, and he hadn't been able to settle down. Always working, always having to keep his guard up.

After not feeling for so long and repressing whatever pain he had felt before, he simply became numb. Call it depression or over-devotion to his duty, he just didn't seem to feel like a normal person should. His life wasn't worth much else but the betterment of other lives through bloodshed and fighting.

[member="Synthea Trills"] [member="Ozamu Tzang"] [member="Katrina Garnier"]

 

[Katrina Garnier]

Kat decided to stay silent for the remainder of this mission least she end up getting herself into trouble. She had been around the block herself quite a few times and didn't need anybody telling her what she should do. These people knew nothing of her yet here they were judging her and what she knew. She had come as a favor to Graxin and nothing else which was why she didn't know the mission.

Sighing she turned to look out the window trying to remember why exactly she had agreed to this and why she didn't go back to living away from people. It was pretty clear that they didn't want her here and were not going to make this easy on any of them.

The sooner they landed, the sooner they could go home and with that Kat would be able to go back to her lab. It was the place now where she felt most at home.

[member="Ozamu Tzang"][member="Synthea Trills"][member="Rusken Shaxx"]