One must learn before they can teach.They must decide what path to take, and what actions must be done to make sure that path is right. this was the code that Graxin’s father had taught to him as a small child; sitting upon the man’s lap after he finished his duties in the Graug slaveyards. Oh, how long ago that was now.
The Apprentice sat cross legged in the meditation chamber within his personal shuttle. It was not attributed to his importance, he simply needed a ship of his own. His crew was large and needed its space, and room was needed to help put together the many operations they were tasked with. His newly made lightsaber hung levitated idly above his scruffy face; the leather wrapped around its bronze metal giving the long weapon a look that could only be described as archaic. Soresu was one of the forms Graxin had taken to learning, and he was rather proficient now. It was time he gave the form that held the most of his interest a look.
Niman was rarely used this day and age. The majority of duelists seemed to rely on Ataru and other more extreme forms. Niman was viewed as the diplomats form, a middle ground between all the other forms. There were no particular strengths, but at the same time, no particular weaknesses. This had attracted Graxin more than any other form during his studies, and now that he was in possession of two blades; it was practical. The style was known as Jar’kai throughout the galaxy; Niman simply being the name of the particular form encompassed within that skill set.
The apprentice twirled his second lightsaber. Its spiked hilt shone in the pale light that illuminated only the center of the room. It was his mother’s lightsaber, and held a powerful cyan crystal within. The lightsaber was many years old, and the scratches across the decorative red crystal at its aft end were a testament to that.
Graxin stood up slowly, snatching both of the deadly tools from their places within the air. It was time.
He had studied how Niman was supposed to work for many weeks now: memorizing patterns, learning techniques, and getting into the mindset he would need. The twin weapons ignited, his own a sharp brutal shade of orange, and his mother’s the gentle yet deadly bright cyan. The glows fought with each other for supremacy as the pale light died all at once. Graxin stared down at his plain black pants and the simple white shirt he wore. Putting on a form of protection would make this exercise far less effective. If he failed, he needed to know it. He needed to feel the pain that came with it for it to be real. It had to be that way, real, if he wanted to learn.
There were no unwelcome memories now or distractions. Only himself, and the room. Then, it began. Two massive spider droids covered in bronze plating fell free of twin hatches atop the room’s roof. He had used these when practicing Soresu, batting back whatever bolts they dared to send his way. Now, he would take the fight back to them in a sort of way.
the larger of the two strode forward on four pillar-like legs. It growled in a warbled electronic language and dipped its massive headpiece forward. Eight red photoreceptors blinked at Graxin with an intent to kill. Its twin blaster cannons began to rumbled as power was put into them, and the droid bucked downward as it prepared to fire.
Graxin rushed at the thing. He pushed himself up into the air and sent a blast of telekinetic energy at the droid. It squealed as its front legs bent inward and its cannon fired directly into the floor. Fire flew up from the crackling durasteel and scorched some of its photoreceptors. The droid wheel around and started off for the adjacent wall just as Graxin landed heavily against the floor. The move was taxing, but not at all overly tiring.
He was sure that if he had charged the thing with his lightsaber he would have failed against the next droid. he would have been too tired. Niman was not as powerful as Ataru, but it utilized the force far more. It saved energy, and while it drew fights out longer, Graxin was grateful for the extra strength. He held up two fingers over his orange blade and wrenched the droid’s pillars from the wall, sending it tumbling against the floor on its back. It wriggled in distress as it tried to flip back onto its belly.
Graxin launched himself upward once more, his intense desire to put the thing out of its misery driving his ability to manipulate the force. He would have speared the thing too if the second droid hadn’t fired off a volley. The apprentice barely managed to pitch a spin mid-air and the bolts exploded against his blades. They sent him rolling back against the floor; his orange blade falling away to slide across the floor. The hilt doused itself and skidded against the burnt panels, coming to stop at the other side of the room. Graxin cursed, and forced himself up onto one knee. As he did so, the first droid turned about whirled about and clipped him in the back with its pillar-like leg.
The Apprentice yelped and fell forward. The pain was quite real, and it would no doubt leave a nasty bruise at a later date. The familiar sound of the cannons charging once more registered in Graxin's ears. He pitched another roll and just narrowly avoided the heavy bolts. The twin droids regrouped; skidding up closer to each other near the primary door leading outside.
Graxin stood up and drew upon the force to keep himself going. He embraced the pain. It was a motivator, and a warning not to fail again, lest something worse befall him. He held out his free hand, the the leatherbound blade slapped into his hand. The Apprentices brow knit with fury, and his unkempt hair fell into his face. A growl tore itself from his throat as he charged once more; this time using the force to amplify his speed as he had been taught by Ferus.
The droids roared back at him in a disturbing chorus and let their weapons fire freely. The bolts kicked up ground panels and dust as the floor exploded upward from each impact. Graxin battered away two shots, which jarred his arm to the point of extreme pain, and sent a telekinetic strike at the droids. The twin metal behemoth's fell back in opposite directions as the power behind the strike forced them apart, giving Graxin the moment he needed.
The cyan blade swept clean through the second droid's front legs and twisted to stab up through its center carapace. The spider screamed a loud shrill cry, and fell silent. His weapon stuck in the first droid, Graxin barely brought his orange sword up to slice through on of the pillars hammering down to crush him. He took the moment of surprise to pulled his other hand free and thrust his arms forward. White hot flames sparked at his fingertips and shot like a jet over the hilts of his blades toward the droid. The orange heat licked at its bronze skin and melted its circuits. The droid screamed much like the first and backed away as it tried to douse the flames. It was to no avail.
It charged around the room; continuing that shrill screaming until it finally grew still, the fires taking it into their warm embrace.
The fires of his hatred outshine stars. Yours must decimate the very galaxy.
The final hatch slowly hissed open. A tall humanoid figure fell from it and landed perfectly on its feet. The combat droid was one that the Jedi often used to train their padawans. The difference being that the Jedi droids were not to cause harm. This one's sole purpose was to end Graxin's life. It drew a huge crimson bladed lightsaber staff, and tilted its domed head back in challenge.
The Spider Droids were only work-ups. This was the real thing. Graxin's furiosity had ended the droids and preserved his life. The balance of Niman had helped him keep himself together, and it was only now that he realized it was perfect for him. His lightsabers were extensions of his body, and his body an extension of his will. The only problem was that his will was an extension of another being's, though it wouldn't remain so forever. Graxin did indeed hate the droid. It was the only thing within his path, and he relished the thought of tearing the contraption down circuit by circuit.
"Let's test then." He growled, and held out both hands. The usage of his power had tired him, yes, but the Dark Side rejuvenated him. It filled his body and filled his limbs with energy. The fires flew from his hands once more, and the droid growled something guttural and unintelligible. Then it simply wasn't there. Graxin stared in confusion at the space the droid had once occupied.
What in Corellia's Nine Hells...?
The snap-hiss of the lightsaber was all that saved Graxin from a decapitation. He quickly ducked and swung upward in an X at the droid. A deep laugh emanated from its domed head and its staff caught the strike on both ends. Taken by surprised, Graxin quickly pulled back and fell into Soresu. It was a lucky move. The staff swung left, Graxin parried with the orange. It rolled off and span right, Graxin held it with both blades. The droid growled once more and delivered three quick jabs. Graxin tilted the blade left, right, then downward catch each strike. The droid hit incredibly hard, and without Soresu and the knowledge of tight blocks, it would have broken through Graxin's defense with ease.
The droid lifted its bottom blade to deliver a killing stab, and Graxin took his chance. He swung quickly at the droid's midriff and sliced it from torso to hip. It stared down in surprise, and made a low gargling noise. Then it brought its weapon about for a quick swing at Graxin's neck. The droid didn't fall apart, oddly. In fact, its torso remained attached. Graxin blinked in confusion as he switched to Niman, blocking the glancing strike with the orange while he plunged the cyan into the droid's domed head.
Then, it fell apart. Its upper half and head fell free from its legs, and the crimson staff hissed one final time as it died. Graxin stared down at the smoking metal corpse, and took a deep breath. He had lost control, and it had almost cost him his life. His hatred had given him focus, and at the same time, blinded him to the reality of the situation. This wasn't supposed to happen....
His lightsabers sheathed and left him standing in total darkness. This all made him...uneasy. Perhaps Kelios made a bit of sense...or he simply wasn't strong enough yet. The Apprentice clipped his blades to his belt; and cast his gaze downward into the darkness. He was confident in the usage of of Niman and Jar'kai now...but not in his thoughts. Very uneasy indeed.
Graxin settled down to sit in the middle of the room once more. He paid no heed to the smoking remains in each corner, and instead outstretched his thoughts. He focused on his friends: Linori, Kelios, Corvetta. They would be sharing a ship soon, and he would have to get his feelings together. Besides, trip to see Bane was needed, it seemed.
The would-be-Sith-Lord took in a deep breath and settled into meditation for now. He needed to think about some things.
The Apprentice sat cross legged in the meditation chamber within his personal shuttle. It was not attributed to his importance, he simply needed a ship of his own. His crew was large and needed its space, and room was needed to help put together the many operations they were tasked with. His newly made lightsaber hung levitated idly above his scruffy face; the leather wrapped around its bronze metal giving the long weapon a look that could only be described as archaic. Soresu was one of the forms Graxin had taken to learning, and he was rather proficient now. It was time he gave the form that held the most of his interest a look.
Niman was rarely used this day and age. The majority of duelists seemed to rely on Ataru and other more extreme forms. Niman was viewed as the diplomats form, a middle ground between all the other forms. There were no particular strengths, but at the same time, no particular weaknesses. This had attracted Graxin more than any other form during his studies, and now that he was in possession of two blades; it was practical. The style was known as Jar’kai throughout the galaxy; Niman simply being the name of the particular form encompassed within that skill set.
The apprentice twirled his second lightsaber. Its spiked hilt shone in the pale light that illuminated only the center of the room. It was his mother’s lightsaber, and held a powerful cyan crystal within. The lightsaber was many years old, and the scratches across the decorative red crystal at its aft end were a testament to that.
Graxin stood up slowly, snatching both of the deadly tools from their places within the air. It was time.
He had studied how Niman was supposed to work for many weeks now: memorizing patterns, learning techniques, and getting into the mindset he would need. The twin weapons ignited, his own a sharp brutal shade of orange, and his mother’s the gentle yet deadly bright cyan. The glows fought with each other for supremacy as the pale light died all at once. Graxin stared down at his plain black pants and the simple white shirt he wore. Putting on a form of protection would make this exercise far less effective. If he failed, he needed to know it. He needed to feel the pain that came with it for it to be real. It had to be that way, real, if he wanted to learn.
There were no unwelcome memories now or distractions. Only himself, and the room. Then, it began. Two massive spider droids covered in bronze plating fell free of twin hatches atop the room’s roof. He had used these when practicing Soresu, batting back whatever bolts they dared to send his way. Now, he would take the fight back to them in a sort of way.
the larger of the two strode forward on four pillar-like legs. It growled in a warbled electronic language and dipped its massive headpiece forward. Eight red photoreceptors blinked at Graxin with an intent to kill. Its twin blaster cannons began to rumbled as power was put into them, and the droid bucked downward as it prepared to fire.
Graxin rushed at the thing. He pushed himself up into the air and sent a blast of telekinetic energy at the droid. It squealed as its front legs bent inward and its cannon fired directly into the floor. Fire flew up from the crackling durasteel and scorched some of its photoreceptors. The droid wheel around and started off for the adjacent wall just as Graxin landed heavily against the floor. The move was taxing, but not at all overly tiring.
He was sure that if he had charged the thing with his lightsaber he would have failed against the next droid. he would have been too tired. Niman was not as powerful as Ataru, but it utilized the force far more. It saved energy, and while it drew fights out longer, Graxin was grateful for the extra strength. He held up two fingers over his orange blade and wrenched the droid’s pillars from the wall, sending it tumbling against the floor on its back. It wriggled in distress as it tried to flip back onto its belly.
Graxin launched himself upward once more, his intense desire to put the thing out of its misery driving his ability to manipulate the force. He would have speared the thing too if the second droid hadn’t fired off a volley. The apprentice barely managed to pitch a spin mid-air and the bolts exploded against his blades. They sent him rolling back against the floor; his orange blade falling away to slide across the floor. The hilt doused itself and skidded against the burnt panels, coming to stop at the other side of the room. Graxin cursed, and forced himself up onto one knee. As he did so, the first droid turned about whirled about and clipped him in the back with its pillar-like leg.
The Apprentice yelped and fell forward. The pain was quite real, and it would no doubt leave a nasty bruise at a later date. The familiar sound of the cannons charging once more registered in Graxin's ears. He pitched another roll and just narrowly avoided the heavy bolts. The twin droids regrouped; skidding up closer to each other near the primary door leading outside.
Graxin stood up and drew upon the force to keep himself going. He embraced the pain. It was a motivator, and a warning not to fail again, lest something worse befall him. He held out his free hand, the the leatherbound blade slapped into his hand. The Apprentices brow knit with fury, and his unkempt hair fell into his face. A growl tore itself from his throat as he charged once more; this time using the force to amplify his speed as he had been taught by Ferus.
The droids roared back at him in a disturbing chorus and let their weapons fire freely. The bolts kicked up ground panels and dust as the floor exploded upward from each impact. Graxin battered away two shots, which jarred his arm to the point of extreme pain, and sent a telekinetic strike at the droids. The twin metal behemoth's fell back in opposite directions as the power behind the strike forced them apart, giving Graxin the moment he needed.
The cyan blade swept clean through the second droid's front legs and twisted to stab up through its center carapace. The spider screamed a loud shrill cry, and fell silent. His weapon stuck in the first droid, Graxin barely brought his orange sword up to slice through on of the pillars hammering down to crush him. He took the moment of surprise to pulled his other hand free and thrust his arms forward. White hot flames sparked at his fingertips and shot like a jet over the hilts of his blades toward the droid. The orange heat licked at its bronze skin and melted its circuits. The droid screamed much like the first and backed away as it tried to douse the flames. It was to no avail.
It charged around the room; continuing that shrill screaming until it finally grew still, the fires taking it into their warm embrace.
The fires of his hatred outshine stars. Yours must decimate the very galaxy.
The final hatch slowly hissed open. A tall humanoid figure fell from it and landed perfectly on its feet. The combat droid was one that the Jedi often used to train their padawans. The difference being that the Jedi droids were not to cause harm. This one's sole purpose was to end Graxin's life. It drew a huge crimson bladed lightsaber staff, and tilted its domed head back in challenge.
The Spider Droids were only work-ups. This was the real thing. Graxin's furiosity had ended the droids and preserved his life. The balance of Niman had helped him keep himself together, and it was only now that he realized it was perfect for him. His lightsabers were extensions of his body, and his body an extension of his will. The only problem was that his will was an extension of another being's, though it wouldn't remain so forever. Graxin did indeed hate the droid. It was the only thing within his path, and he relished the thought of tearing the contraption down circuit by circuit.
"Let's test then." He growled, and held out both hands. The usage of his power had tired him, yes, but the Dark Side rejuvenated him. It filled his body and filled his limbs with energy. The fires flew from his hands once more, and the droid growled something guttural and unintelligible. Then it simply wasn't there. Graxin stared in confusion at the space the droid had once occupied.
What in Corellia's Nine Hells...?
The snap-hiss of the lightsaber was all that saved Graxin from a decapitation. He quickly ducked and swung upward in an X at the droid. A deep laugh emanated from its domed head and its staff caught the strike on both ends. Taken by surprised, Graxin quickly pulled back and fell into Soresu. It was a lucky move. The staff swung left, Graxin parried with the orange. It rolled off and span right, Graxin held it with both blades. The droid growled once more and delivered three quick jabs. Graxin tilted the blade left, right, then downward catch each strike. The droid hit incredibly hard, and without Soresu and the knowledge of tight blocks, it would have broken through Graxin's defense with ease.
The droid lifted its bottom blade to deliver a killing stab, and Graxin took his chance. He swung quickly at the droid's midriff and sliced it from torso to hip. It stared down in surprise, and made a low gargling noise. Then it brought its weapon about for a quick swing at Graxin's neck. The droid didn't fall apart, oddly. In fact, its torso remained attached. Graxin blinked in confusion as he switched to Niman, blocking the glancing strike with the orange while he plunged the cyan into the droid's domed head.
Then, it fell apart. Its upper half and head fell free from its legs, and the crimson staff hissed one final time as it died. Graxin stared down at the smoking metal corpse, and took a deep breath. He had lost control, and it had almost cost him his life. His hatred had given him focus, and at the same time, blinded him to the reality of the situation. This wasn't supposed to happen....
His lightsabers sheathed and left him standing in total darkness. This all made him...uneasy. Perhaps Kelios made a bit of sense...or he simply wasn't strong enough yet. The Apprentice clipped his blades to his belt; and cast his gaze downward into the darkness. He was confident in the usage of of Niman and Jar'kai now...but not in his thoughts. Very uneasy indeed.
Graxin settled down to sit in the middle of the room once more. He paid no heed to the smoking remains in each corner, and instead outstretched his thoughts. He focused on his friends: Linori, Kelios, Corvetta. They would be sharing a ship soon, and he would have to get his feelings together. Besides, trip to see Bane was needed, it seemed.
The would-be-Sith-Lord took in a deep breath and settled into meditation for now. He needed to think about some things.
