Lightsabers, Meet the Neighbours (Hasjo Hallu)

[Manu Xextos]

Another new place. Seems all Manu Xextos had done since waking from his crystal entombment is travel around trying to find a foothold on the Galaxy as it is now, 800 years later. Whispers came to him while he was on his Confederacy world of a Jedi Order with no sway nor hold on politics.

Could it be true? A real Jedi Order, one he could walk beside a tentative clan-mate and perhaps give the remaining days of his hallowed life to. The Army of Light hadn't stayed together, the Templars were neutral and impressive, but perhaps that was more his mother's way. Master Manu Xextos stood enrobed in the white training clothes of his people - these ones fresh and new given to him by [member="Ailyne Viren"], his little descendant Queen of Chandaar. A honour guard of two House of Xextos officers stood inside the door watching as Manu began to conduct his way through a grand meditation, a moving meditation of body and blade, his lightsaber Nuada thrumming with its pure silver light through the electrified air.

The Master was sure footed and smooth, a wave atop the ever present ocean as he worked first through a meditation of Shii Cho, simple and resolute, then today moved beyond Shii Cho to Djem So, hard and unyielding. All the forms gave and took differently from the mind and the body of their practitioners, and Manu Xextos was hankering to get to know more of the Silver Jedi and how better than this?

[member="Hasjo Hallu"]

 

[Lord Gaius]

The pounding footfalls of armoured boots interrupted the silence. A large creature coated in durasteel plating, and a black plastool body suit entered the courtyard. The man was formerly a Nautolan, but hardly did he resemble the amphibious species after his surgery. He had defended the temple steps on Coruscant before being gunned down. Six incendiary slugs against an amphibian. He lit up like a beacon. The husk of his former self was encased in this iron beast. Yet he walked, not with pride but elegance. He stood no taller than six feet, and without the armour he would be rippling with muscle. The Nautolan race was a naturally enduring and powerful species. Hasjo Hallu, Knight of the Silver Jedi Order had come to see the new arrival, and test his metal. Hasjo was far from the greatest swordsman, but he was an incredibly versatile opponent.

The belt clasped around the MLSS (Mobile Life Support System) that kept Hasjo breathing and pumping blood held a variety of weapons. The two recognisable ones were the Lightsaber Pike and the Lightwhip, the third was of foreign design, looking like a baton. A DC17 also hung holstered at his hip side. It was not the force powers he held that made him an unpredictable assailant, but the variety of weapons he utilised, not to mention, forms. Among other Knights, he had the force abilities of a child. But in combat, he had a skill that far surpassed many. He offered a gentle bow to Master [member="Manu Xextos"]. Around the temple, each of his weapons power outings were set to a stun. Like almost all lightsabers and other plasma weapons, they contained nozzles to change the power settings. His bionic voice spoke to him "Care for a spar?" He shrugged his arid cloak from his shoulders and began to pace, watching Manu.

 

[Manu Xextos]

At the entrance, the two Echani Officers stiffened. One clenched the vibro-lance harder, eyes narrowing while the other looked only to Manu. The two settled, when a glance from the time displaced Jedi waved them off with a shrug of his shoulder.

The metallic Knight was more of a walking hospital than the seven foot Echani Master. Pale beyond the complexion of his silver haired kin, Manu's body had taken a beating and a half through the eight hundred years of crystalline stasis his mother had put him through. Locked in battle for nearly a thousand years, the man's lightsaber skills were what a new artist would call ancient. They were as close to the Knights of the Republic as an outdated holocron, he halted and swept his leg behind him in a regal bow to the metalloid Nautolan. Was it even a Nautolan under the sweeping coffin? The master healer could only be sure that at some point the man in the machine had been amphibious. The lungs, the internal organs, they called a certain form of xenobiology to the doctor's mind.

Saluting with a flourish, Manu nodded his assent. "First spar in a new place. Auspicious. Manu Xextos, you are? Well, we'll find out." Taking the starting pose of Djem So, Manu moved in a lithe circle, waiting for [member="Hasjo Hallu"] to go for his Lightwhip or Pike. "Choose your weapon, I've chosen mine."

 

[Lord Gaius]

The Master spoke "First spar in a new place. Auspicious. Manu Xextos, you are? Well, we'll find out."
"Hasjo Hallu" Hasjo voice answered. It was in no way organic in which the way he spoke. His lungs had been seriously injured. The MLSS provided a neural interface link directly to his brain via a micro incision through his skull. His thoughts would be projected through the MLSS's computing systems before being projected outwards via helmet audio output. It was no slower than talking before, and were one to study, it was milliseconds faster for the data to be made into audio, than for the brain to transmit to the mouth. [member="Manu Xextos"] said "Choose your weapon, I've chosen mine." Hasjo curled his gloved hands around the fifty centimetre long metallic baton.

His way of combat was of constantly changing his approach, to become absolutely unpredictable to your opponent. Manu did not state this was a one weapon party, and Hasjo would reveal that lack of rules later. Two hands held opposite ends of the baton. His hands twisted in opposite directions and then pulled. A ten centimetre long stun prod sprang from each end of the dismembered staff, and two high-voltage power couplings crackled to life in between the three pieces. Now activated, the rare San-Ni Staff tripled in length to one-hundred and fifty centimetres. The electrical discharge was powerful enough to shear off limbs, cook flesh, and even a near miss would give severe burns to an enemy, Hasjo however seemed to be shielded from this, through the use of miniature heat sinks. The power setting was diluted to a stun.

 

[Manu Xextos]

"Well met, Hasjo. Or would you rather I call you Hallu?" A mechanical voice, too. Maybe someday they'd swap injury stories. Might be fun to count the scars, then again, it might be incredibly depressing for one or two of them.

The Echani's eyebrow rose as he saw the weapon with which he was presented. 'Never seen one of those before. Handy I'm seeing it here, instead of say, in a battle.' Without ado Manu lept forward with an inhumanly fast footstep and sent his lightsaber crashing down in a vertical angle toward [member="Hasjo Hallu"]'s head.

Hey, the man obviously knew his way around weaponry. What was Manu supposed to do, coddle the metal clad man who seemed to know how to handle himself? Hah! All in good fun. Most of all, Manu would have to be wary of the electrified stave, a simple lightsaber didn't seem to be this man's style. How awesomely wonderful!

Manu always did admire a creative dueller.

 

[Lord Gaius]

Hasjo watched with cold, calculating eyes, hidden behind bright luminescent slits. The man appeared to be the embodiment of the Silver Jedi Order itself. Covered in grey and silver painted durasteel plating. The Orders sigil was displayed on each shoulder pauldron. Silver light sparkled out from where ones eyes should be located. Hidden within that helmet, two large black pools watched. The Nautolan stepped forward, not a second after he had. He raised his weapon above his head, each hand on opposite ends of the San-Ni Staff. He caught the plasma between the power couplings. Then, he snapped his hands downwards. The power couples wrapping around the lightsabers plasma. The batons collided together.

Unlike the Lightsabers, and many other weapons, the Staff was not restrained in movement. The power couplings allowing one hilt of the staff to move in a different direction than the other. With the lightsaber ensnared by his san-ni, he raised a high boot and attempted kick outwards for the man's chest. He moved with absolute grace and fluidity. He echoed the movements of the Matukai, the ancient organisation of Force Users that utilised the force through martial arts. If his kick were to become successful, he would pull tight against the baton overhead himself, attempting to rip the lightsaber out of the man's grasp. Only if his kick was successful.

@[member="Manu Xextos"]