Repent, the End is Near

[Raejar]

Equipment: Lightsaber, BRP-003, Robes of Zara

Exiting the spaceport Raejar pulled the black cloak tighter around his armored form. Beneath the cloak was a set of battle robes Raejar had specifically created for situations such as this one. Where he had to operate in an area where it was required that he be a bit more inconspicuous… Who would’ve ever thought that the day someone walked around in a dark cloak would be inconspicuous? Yet it only made sense, in a galaxy where there were so many Force Orders running rampant and even jedi wore dark robes in such a way people had just come to ignore those wearing the robes. Head bowed low Raejar’s Orange and Gold eyes looked to the datapad in his hands. “I can’t believe he made it halfway across the galaxy and now he needs help. It’s a simple flight.” Raejar growled, shoving the datapad into his robes and looking around Raejar walked through the streets of Pantolomin.

This world was far too busy for Raejar’s liking, all around people filled the walkways rushing in and out of shops, some stood there taking numerous pictures on their datapads, these were the rich, the tourists that knew not of truly happened out in the rest of the galaxy. They use planets such as Pantolomin to bury their heads and pretend that the galaxy around them wasn’t being torn asunder by powers that they couldn’t comprehend. One such example was the growing Sith Empire, they were slowly returning, their numbers building. That was what brought Raejar to the planet. While not a Sith himself, nor a true member of their ranks he was a member of the Xendori Guard. His duty was to escort those who needed protection to the Sith Territory where they could be safe till inducted into the ranks.

That’s what brought him to Pantolomin, there had been a sudden uptick of those who wanted to join the Sith in their conquest for glory and power, most of which being members of the First Order. With that uptick eventually came a series of murders, potential sith had been slaughtered, some in hotel rooms, others in alleys, some found dead before they were even able to exit the spaceport. Whoever, or whatever had the skill to pull off the assassinations had become a true threat, at this point it was less of protecting the potential Sith, than finding the culprit and ending them. This was a test of Raejar’s own abilities.

Despite his dislike for the world Raejar had to respect the choice. Pantolomin was a perfect planet for one to go to ground on. It was a tourist world, every day hundreds if not thousands of shuttles came in and out the spaceport. There would always be work to find and easy to become one with the crowd, yet would that be enough to keep the assassin off this ones’ tracks? You’d think that one who was a member of the Ren would be able to take care of themselves.

In truth Raejar saw the order of Ren as detestable, they wanted to proclaim themselves unique yet they were no different than the Sith. If anything, they were the inferior version. If they weren’t worthy of being compared to the sith they meant nothing in the face of a true dark jedi. There was a faint chirp from Raejar’s datapad as he received a message. It read ‘Are you here yet?’ Rolling his eyes Raejar scoffed, he didn’t even give the message another thought. He’d arrive when he did. Turning into twin doors that slid open Raejar entered the Towers of Pantolomin, the resort that his patron would be residing.

[member="Caehl Ren"]

 

[WolfMortum]

Traitors and Heretics, they all deserved to die.

His path since the battle of Bespin against the Galactic Alliance had changed drastically, winding and curving well outside of the vision that he would have anticipated in serving the Supreme Leader's will for the First Order. [member="Ara Ren"] had been his first victim, an accident wrought on by that of the Sith masquerading as a Jedi of the Galactic Alliance and thus his ally had taken a fatal blow that had sent a ripple of consequences across his days to come. He had been severely beaten within the duel against the three Jedi and had then sought to give his life in one last devastating attack that was meant to engulf them all, friend and foe for the pride and honor of the Order of Ren, such was his loyalty un-fathomed. Yet rather than a glorified death, he was brought back by his superiors and for some time had failed to see why. It wasn't until the treason of [member="Kaalia Voldaren"] and several other suspected key individuals of the Order of Ren and within the First Order Military, that Caehl Ren had found justification to act out on his own against such an detestable travesty. All of his actions, recorded and relayed to the First Order Security Bureau should they decide to investigate his where-abouts and then detain him for the questioning and interrogation his decisions might force upon them later.

Much to his argument, his superiors had taken a form of silence to the turn-coats within the First Order, seeking not to pursue them but to solidify relations with the rising Sith Empire that they sought to defect to. A complacency that the Disciple found to be a great injustice to the will of Sieger Ren, their all empowering supreme leader, he of whom could not be compared upon by lesser creatures, a monument and symbol of the First Orders might across the galaxy, to deny the Supreme Leader and to turn ones back against him was a punishment worthy of death in Brennan's eyes. Death that he had been trained and now delivered to more than several key individuals having been allowed to defect without the appropriate action and investigation of the FOSB. Were it not for his intercepting these people, who was to know what secrets could still be found within their treason. This was of course not to ignore the obvious memory wipe that the First Order demanded upon those who sought to exclude themselves from the ranks but within the alchemist ways of the Sith and the sorcerer magicks of the followers of the Dark Side of the force, the death and desecration of ones body still held answers yet to be spoken. Such was why his calling card was most important within his mission he had given himself, one of vital need outside of the knowledge of [member="Samka Derith"] and [member="Castor Ren"]. Those whom he reported to most regularly.

The Sith Dirk was his deliverance of consequence against his targets, names and numbers who had relinquished their freedoms the moment they had sought to defect and turn against the future of the galaxy. They of whom had proven to be faithless dogs, disloyal and undeserving of the mercy they'd been allowed. They had chosen to defect to the Sith and so it would be a Sith weapon that would send them to the abyss. Blood Boiler Poison of which lit the blood stream alight in flame and acid, sundering their nervous system and searing at their insides until it all came boiling up through the broken cells of flesh and deteriorating bone leaving but a pulp mess as evidence to their final moments in life. There in the streets of Pantolomin, was his next target, one who he had tracked through the FOSB databanks and after a long and tiring pursuit from a distance afar, his patience had led to a far greater result. If he was correct, then it was to be a contact of the Sith Empire that this traitorous wretch was meeting with, yet another life taken as a reminder to those who betrayed the word of Sieger Ren.

Within the vicinity, Omega Support worked to deter the public from further filling the streets leading up to the targets location while Caehl Ren continued on ahead without them. Delengtha Ren remained within the Furious Class Corvette and kept the craft ready for evacuation as soon as the job was completed. Not having the proper authorization for this mission meant that their presence could only be tolerated for so long without word reaching intelligence and then they risking the loss of their objective. Arkaos and Nocturnus Ren, the Brothers Zorathi reluctantly worked together to manipulate the local enforcement through the workings of mind domination to discourage the potential collateral damage to public lives, re-routing them elsewhere while doing their utmost to remain subtle and inconspicuous.

All that remained was Caehl's success. Among those who remained within the streets, Brennan's presence drifted in and out of the crowd, keeping to the sides of the buildings which gave him the best chance for secrecy, his man further up ahead moving towards his rendezvous with the enemy. The Talisman of Calling weighing heavy upon one of his few human fingers that remained, the artifact of which would deliver the Dirk upon his silent command almost as blood thirsty as Caehl himself. His weapons all concealed by the dark black cloak that flowed about him in his steps, the loose baggy hood that covered his head, his Helm and Armor adorned and ready to once more spill blood in the name of true justice, unpolluted by Jedi sentiment nor Sith Arrogance, he moved without an aura of presence within the Force, the little of The Art of the Small that he'd been taught by that of his Master [member="Kriel Firin"] keeping his position completely hidden from any other possible force sensitives in the area, a must in order to attain yet another victory here today.

[member="Raejar"]

 

[Raejar]

Entering the resort, Raejar was instantly suspicious the resort lobby was lacking in people. Possibly on a less populated world this would be common, maybe in a lower-class resort. Not the Pantolomin Towers… Something was wrong, there was only a receptionist and a person to the right of the door that offered his greeting to Raejar with a bow. Under the cloak Raejar’s hand rested on his hip near his lightsaber. The cool metal brought the young man peace, he felt the familiar presence of the saber and used it to be confident and sure in his decision. These people did not deserve death, not yet, Raejar would wait till he had proof of their treachery before he unleashed the wraith he kept locked away deep within. “Do you have any luggage sir?”

“No.” The answer was curt, straight to the point and nipped any other possible questions of a similar notion in the bud. Looking over to the bellboy, Raejar’s eyes took the figure in. A human that was no older than himself, red hair topped the bellboys head and freckles darted his cheeks. The gold and orange eyes stared out from beneath the hood boring into the human, head tilting slightly to the side Raejar spoke.

“Where are all your customers? I was led to believe this was one of the finest establishments in the galaxy.”

“Um… I honestly don’t know sir. Most of them are out seeing the sights or in their rooms. If you want I could recommend a great place for lunch.”

“Don’t waste your time with it. I won’t be with you that long.” Raejar said to the bellboy making his way across the lobby and to the turbolift.

“Sir… Sir!” A frail voice called out to Raejar as he walked to the turbolift, he could’ve continued on or even struck down the woman that walked up behind him her high heels clanking against the tile floor. “Sir, you can’t just go up there without checking in. Could I possibl-“

“Your rules mean nothing to me, I am here to meet an….” Stopping Raejar wondered what word would best describe the man he’d come to escort. “Associate.” Deciding that an associate was the most fitting Raejar continued walking once again leaving the receptionist somewhat stunned. He could feel her fear through the force, she’d thought it had been her last seconds alive. Good, they know to be afraid.

Arms crossed Raejar didn’t even budge as the turbolift shot up to the upper floors. Behind him the skyline of the main city glimmered in the sun. The sea a brilliant blueish green. The counter above the doors continued to count up as Raejar went higher and higher. Once again, another chime on his datapad. Raejar didn’t even reach for it, the disciple would be lucky if he didn’t strike him down. One who proclaimed to be strong should not feel fear in such a way, they should be brave enough to stare that fear in the face and fight till the end. That was how Raejar had been trained, the treacherous forests of Togoria to the frozen tundra’s of Hoth. These hostile locations had honed him and his skills. He’d even gone to Zonoma Sekot, the home of the Yuuzhan Vong and survived. Raejar would never be one to let his fear rule him.

‘Bing’ the turbolift went opening on the eightieth floor, not walking out Raejar waited a few seconds as the door slid open. It would be the worst mistake to rush out in a hall without knowing the possible threats. Hand now grasping the hilt Raejar took his first steps out of the turbolift opening himself to the force. The energy of the force suffused itself with Raejar’s form. He pulled it into himself and on the floor, he was instantly able to sense the fear of the disciple, the fear was oh so sweet. It was sweeter than any custard or dessert that could ever be created. Just feeling eat Raejar devoured on it, the fear turning into energy to supplement Raejar’s own abilities. This was power, true power.

Standing outside the door Raejar typed in the entry code, the door slid open with a hiss and instantly Raejar was met by an individual dressed in commoners clothes a saber clutched tightly in their hands. Their hands shook, and this individual was also human and easily older than Raejar. He believes he could be Sith? They would eat him alive. Raejar thought looking at the man. He was shorter than Raejar, but many were in the galaxy. His body even beneath the common clothes was firm, trained. “If you’re not going to use that put it down.” Raejar growled entering the room. With the press of a button the door slid shut and locked itself.

“Where have you been! It’s been a standard week! I’ve-“ The disciple started having the nerve to attempt to scold Raejar.

Whirling on the man and pulling his hood down Raejar revealed himself, his eyes burning with a fire. His milky white skin completely alien, and his lips twisted in a scowl. “My time does not revolve around you. Your life means nothing to me, I could care less whether you were able to join the Sith or not. I came because I’m to kill the one hunting the likes of you down. Now I suggest you sit on that bunk and stay silent while I think!” Ensuring that his point had been made Raejar went to the window looking out it and to the streets below.

[member="Caehl Ren"]

 

[WolfMortum]

The Pantolomin Towers were an interesting choice given the fact that there were very few ways to get in and out of such a building. Approaching the lobby, his gaze was drawn skyward, pausing a moment to stand out within the open and stare up as if in defiance of the durasteel glass giant looking back down upon him, within the shadow of it's make Caehl Ren felt the calling of a greater force urging him on forward, the power of the force swirling around the environment as life weaved in and out of the tree's and gardens that were so delicately made up to please the common rabble of the establishment, the place yet to be disturbed by the engagement yet to come.

The entrance chimed though the almost musical note was rendered obsolete in the face of the metal detection sensors that he stepped through, the attendant at the entrance counter peering across in both surprise and alarm as he eyes landed upon the Disciple of Ren, her attention soon joined by that of another older male in the attire of a guards uniform. "I'm afraid you're going to need to stand aside for inspection Si-..." His words faded as he looked to find the figure before him clad in the full faced helm, a singular visor staring back at him gleaming with the faint presence of a red beam when turned in the right direction.

As is the officers cerebellum was being held within Caehl Ren's right hand, the dark side of the Force closed in around it, tightening down and dominating his conscience as the Disciple spoke slowly and clearly, giving him not the compliance he sort after but instead the commanding tone of an ultimatum the man couldn't decline. "You will escort me to the suite of this individual..." He extended his left arm, showing the SB-U01 Wrist Datapad and tapping the touch-panel in sequence, bringing up the guilty party's mugshot as described across the FOSB databse.

"I..." The Security officer attempted to refuse though paused, his eyes fading as Caehl Ren forced his will upon the male, shrouding his mind in fear and darkness, so much so that the officers free will completely caved and resuming as a husk of his former self, the man complied under the weight of the Disciples manipulation; "Right this way, Sir". The pair then moving to approach the welcome desk, the female attendant giving her co-worker a look of disbelief and uncertainty before glancing to that of Brennan and soon diverting his gaze, not quite knowing what to do with herself in such a position. "Floor one zero five" The officer spoke aloud as he looked up the room number from the front desk, "Room thirty two..." he concluded soon leading the Disciple to the lifts, the doors soon closing behind them and their climb beginning.

Had it not been for the disgusting little jingle that the lift played on it's rise to the hundred and fifth floor of the Pantolomin Towers, the ride might have been an easy reprise from the distance Brennan had traveled of late. Typically this would be a moment to bask within, to embrace before the coming storm that would see him his kill. Instead it was spent standing beside an oblivious idiot with the ludicrous sound of something that couldn't surely be depicted as enjoyable music to the common populace. It was only when he found himself nearing the end of his patience that the doors soon chimed again and this time opened within incident, leading the pair onto the floor of which somewhere among the many rooms awaited his target.

For his entrance, the security officer was to be his key. Allowing the male to lead on, the Disciple turned his attention back down to that of the SB-U01 and activated the life-form scanner, a vector sweep of the rooms they would pass, picking up on both movement and heart rate of all those within. Seemingly a wise decision given the door they stopped before, Caehl's gaze turning up to that of the security officer whom pulled his identification card from his belt and moved to swipe it across the lock, the Disciple already reaching for the Lightsaber as the door slowly opened to give the pair within the clueless expression of the guard before a flash of red cut through the mans chest in a violent hiss, severing his heart and burning away all the flesh and organs surrounding it as he dropped forward with a sturdy shove of Caehl's left arm, the strength behind his cybernetics basically throwing the life to the floor whilst coming to step in behind him, his left hand then moving to close the door while his gaze jumped between that of [member="Raejar"] and the traitor.

The towering form of the Disciple moved no further, speaking none as the Ocular Neural Interface took in the sight of the two, the traitor showing nothing but fear and cowardice, nothing but weakness in the face of his peer. It was little wonder that the man sought an easier path yet had he persevered perhaps his life would not have been forced to such an abrupt end there that day. The vibrant hum of his lightsaber remained, the blade lowered to his side facing to the floor beneath him as he then turned to focus on the other, that of a much darker presence. He of which would be the true contest of strength between those of the Sith and that of faith and devotion to Sieger Ren. Only one of them would leave there alive and for the traitor, his fate was already sealed.

Drawing swiftly upon the P-23 Sidearm Pistol holstered beneath his right arm, strapped across his torso, his Cybernetic Exo-Skeleton allowed for a much greater speed and cognitive reaction to which the blaster was relinquished of it's housing and then a single bolt fired from it's barrel almost immediately there after, still as his arm was bringing it to bare upon his target, it would look like a near impossible shot to land, yet the burning ball of green matter slung itself around to be carried into the frontal lobe of Caehl's fellow disciple, the skin and skull being melted away as the shot dug itself within the brain and dropped the coward within a falling heap, landing with a great dead weight upon the carpet not so far from Raejar. It would be the one and only shot fired from the weapon, Caehl's visor never having left the priority between them, that of the Dark Jedi while the blaster slowly descended and he placed it back within the holster.

 

[Raejar]

Minutes passed as Raejar stood continuing to look down on the streets below, hands tucked at the small of his back Raejar nodded his head to a melody no one else could hear. It was as though the force spoke to him, on this day there would be bloodshed, battle, something the Mahanaim had been craving. He could feel the force surging, building within himself as he prepared himself for the conflict that would eventually come. Every moment that passed Raejar looked to the clock and back to the door, he was becoming anxious. The Malevolent energy of the darkside urged the man on, to act, to instead of letting himself be hunted to become the hunter. To seize fate by the throat and cut down the one hunting the potential sith. Glancing out the corner of his eye at the disciple Raejar was even tempted to cut him down. He was useless, he was no Sith. The disciple wasn’t even worthy of the low position of a Ren, he was a disgrace, a stain on the galaxy like many others. They were the agents of the force, they were granted abilities, powers that people couldn’t comprehend yet here this disciple was giving into his fear as though a boy. The disciples fear was the only thing useful to Raejar, he was like a battery that continually fed Raejar.

Jumping to his feet the Disciple had finally lost his mind and grabbed his luggage from beneath the bunk. “I do not know what you intend but I plan to have no part of it. I’ll get to Sith space on my own, when I do I’ll be sure to report you to the higherups! You’ll get whats coming to you!” The disciple shouted as he begun to pack his things.

“Continue thinking that.” Raejar said a smile touching his lips, while he may have been looking out the window Raejar’s senses were aware of his surroundings. More than just his surroundings. A Mahanaim’s hearing was far more acute than a humans, not just their hearing but their sense of smell and sight. They were superior to humans in every way in Raejar’s mind. That is what made him the prime candidate for this mission. From the moment, the turbolift had opened to the sound of the door sliding open Raejar knew. He had heard them coming. In his hand, the saber rested and as the door slid open Raejar heard the signature snap-hiss as a saber came to life. Not his own but another. The scent of burnt flesh assaulted his nose, but Raejar had felt the death of the guard, it had been so sudden, so unexpected. At least that’s how the guard saw it, and Raejar fed on that death as well. Such was the power of consume essence. Turning Raejar watched as his patron’s life was ended in a single shot. A well placed one, then that battery that had been charging and feeding Raejar was gone. What remained was a dull thrum of energy, not enough for him to notice.

Raising an eyebrow Raejar chuckled. “That certainly makes my job easier… He wouldn’t have survived the first day you know?” Looking at the man his left hand raising and pointing at the newcomer Raejar shook it to and fro. “Yet it was neither of our rights to have ended his life so soon, yet I was so tempted. But you know what since I’m in such a good mood I’m going to give you a choice. Turn around, leave this planet and swear to never touch another potential Sith again. OR…”

Finger pressing in on the activation stud Raejar brought the lightsaber to life. A violet blade came to life bathing the room in its glow and illuminating Raejar’s skin. “I will end you hear and now, your body will be left on this floor, forgotten to time, never to be found. You won’t even be worthy of a footnote in history.”

[member="Caehl Ren"]

 

[WolfMortum]

The words this individual muttered were bold and full with arrogance, the typical traits of any follower to the ways of the Sith. A short pessimistic laugh, the humor shown in the face of the Disciple spoke of attitude and personality no matter how much this man desired to fuel the darkness around him; they were traits that Brennan did not share. At-least not so far as he was aware of. The New Jedi Order of the Galactic Alliance had certainly dealt him a defeat upon Bespin yet his hatred of the Sith Empire went well beyond his disgust for the Jedi Path, going so far back as to his former life serving as a Jedi student himself.

They were responsible for dismantling and murdering all of his loved ones upon the world of Svivren. His enslavement and humiliation would follow for a number of years, every day being beaten and broken down, forced to do insufferable things before the amusement of the Sith while they insulted him and tore him down, a part of his conscience chipping away slowly yet gradually until eventually he had lost sight of his former self and reinvented himself in the face and service to Sieger Ren the first chance he had to escape the Sith's grasp. In the end he had grown stronger for it, shown defiance in the face of constant defeat, refusing to die but relinquishing the chains of weakness that bound him to self pity and emotional degradation. Even through out his time with the First Order being ridiculed for his mistakes by his superiors he refused to give others the satisfaction of looking down at him, of defeating his will to stomach all in order to serve and fulfill the one man worthy beyond all other peoples of leading the Galaxy into a brighter future, one of security to all within the shelter of the First Order's care.

The Supreme Leader was more than a commanding presence, he was a symbol of growth and progress, a father to all who fought for these ideals and were willing to sacrifice everything to achieve the greater good. While the Jedi were too weak to accomplish such a feat and the Sith were to blinded by their own motivations, the Order of Ren would prevail where all else failed. Given the choice to turn away and leave without a fight, Caehl Ren's head tilted marginally to the left, looking back at this Dark Jedi with an intrigued glance though it would not show through his helm. Did he truly expect the Disciple to turn and walk away from this filth, he of whom was encouraging and aiding acts of treason against the First Order. There was nothing to be questioned in what would come of this. The punishment for such an act, was death.

His stance shifted and no longer would he answer the Dark Jedi with silence and inaction. If there was to be a fight then it would start off with there being no doubts as to the intent of the Ren. Extending his left arm, the talisman of calling brought fourth a presence of its own, calling from the nexus of Darkside energies the Sith Dirk emerging from wisps of darkness, tendrils that sprang fourth from around the disciples forearm and breathing life and form into the lengthy dagger, double edged steel unlike the blade of his lightsaber that was made for more civilized injuries, the Dirk would blood out his opponent while setting his innards alight with the poison. From the initiation of the summoning, Brennan would have two hours to land a singular connection with his opposition before the weapon would return to the abyss, requiring a further two for the artifact to recharge. Should he fail then his primary focus would shift to that of the force, his lesser strength when compared to the brute force and ferocity of his typical aggression.

Pushing off from the entrance of the room, the weight and strength from his cybernetic legs caused the floor boards to crack under the pressure of his sudden momentum, his occular neural interface working in overdrive to dance between the cognitive and the physical far beyond the norm for a human male of his age, his instincts were honed and his actions and tactics precise. Closing in on his opponent, he flicked the Dirk around so the the blade would be handled in reverse, his right arm sweeping out to slash vertically across the mid-section of [member="Raejar"], intent on testing first the armor of the man clad across his torso; momentum changing following the strike, his weight falling to his front foot and then pushing back off to bring the lightsaber arcing back off to the right, this time higher for the throat to which he presumed would be a weaker point of defense. The Dirk yet to be utilized while his opponents tactics and defensive style were yet to be confirmed. Ever studying his opponent, the cybernetic interface and cognitive aid would work to decipher the dark Jedi's movements, to better analyze and interpret his moves ahead when and where possible.

 

[Raejar]

There were no words from the member of Ren, nor were there any actions, perhaps the figure had been struck by fear? That his potential opponent hadn’t even flinched at the death of one he was supposed to protect? Raejar doubted it, this man was like him, a warrior. One who didn’t back down from a challenge, Raejar’s words had hopefully assured that to happen, how he was itching for a fight since the Sith hadn’t yet to fully strike out against the jedi. You could fight insurgents, rebels, and what have you all day and never meet the same challenge as you would when fighting a fellow practitioner of the force or a Mandalorian. This was the fight Raejar had been looking for, a way to test his abilities, to see how far he had truly come. To prove that he was not weak and would one day surpass even the Lords of the Sith.

Raejar was not his master, he didn’t take pleasure in slaughter nor did he let the bloodlust overtake him. Yet Raejar was like his master when it came to loving a good challenge. So, for there to be nothing but silence made sense, true warriors didn’t spend every second of a battle teasing or talking to one another as though sitting down for a cup of caf. No, they fought and when they did all else would be tuned out. Finally changing stance, the Ren summoned a knife almost as if from the darkness itself. Glancing down to the blade for a split second and back up to the Ren’s mask Raejar smirked. Let the games begin.

There was the sound of floorboards crying out in agony as they snapped from the sudden force that propelled the Ren at Raejar, the man moved at a speed beyond a humans’, faster than a Mahanaim? Maybe not, that wasn’t the issue it was the blade that was being swung out wide in an arc that would disembowel one. Being quite a bit taller than his opponent Raejar’s legs were longer and not only that but his arms. Right foot moving back, no more than mere centimeters off the ground it planted itself and Raejar slid back dodging the dagger and not only that but the lightsaber that had been directed at his throat. The saber passed by Raejar with less than an inch to spare. Was the Ren trying to probe his defenses, end the fight as soon as possible? The move would’ve probably caught a lesser individual unaware, others wouldn’t have given even an inch of ground willing to meet an assault head on. Raejar wasn’t either of those.

Right foot stepping forward, bending at a ninety-degree angle, Raejar thrust out with his saber in a direct line for the Ren’s chest, his arm fully extended longer, his reach longer than that of his foes. The attack was simple, straightforward and had been one the Disciple of Ren had left himself open for by using such wide, sweeping attacks.

[member="Caehl Ren"]

 

[WolfMortum]

While the momentum of his lightsaber swung far out to the right, [member="Raejar"] had effectively managed to step back and out of the way of it's arc before shifting closer once more and driving that of his blade in towards Caehl's torso for a driving stab aiming to penetrate the Disciple in a devastating blow. His Ocular Neural Interface reading his opponents movements and catching it just in time, pivoting on his front heel and forcing himself into a full rotation looking to sidestep the dark jedi's blade just in time for it to clash against the side of his Armor, the phrik plating that guarded his front and sides igniting in an array of sparks and shrapnel of energy as Raejar's lightside slide passed him and the Ren was successfully able to step out and away to the enemies left side, both blades this time being thrust out as he turned.

His lightsaber struck out again at chest height while the Sith Dirk rose and aimed for the throat of his aggressor, Caehl Ren stepping on through to change his position and stepping closer to the edge of the room to where the glass panels opened the suite up to the rest of the world and the vast height that plummeted down to the streets below, the blade of his lightsaber licked out against panel and shattered the guard that kept the wind from breaching into the living suite, shards of glass showering them both while the Ren kept his back to the eruption of blades the gust of Pantolomin brought in.

This exchange of blows wasn't a game in the eyes of Caehl Ren, unlike the disposition offered by that of Raejar. It was a matter of duty and pride in serving that of Sieger Ren; a fanatic loyalty that even among some of his own people was seen as overzealous in his faith to their supreme leader. Everyone held their own motivations, ambitions in which service might reward them with promotions of rank or recognition of actions achieved. None of that drove Caehl in his fight against those that stood to rival the security and promise the First Order brought upon the Galaxy around it. In the death of his former life, he had seen the abyss, deprived of everything and stripped of all of his strengths, left bare to the shame of weakness and the inability to fight for his life any longer. It was the sight of their magnificent Leader that changed all of this for him the day he came into the Bastion of Ren upon Virgillia, saw that among him the Knights of Ren stood in unity, not looking down upon one another but holding a mutual respect for all, disciple and Master in the shadow of Sieger's will for the Galaxy. His momentum eclipsed the past heresies of the Sith and the supposed integrity of the Jedi by following through with his actions, proving that he could achieve that all encompassing promise of justice and security for the people by fighting against the oppression of all else, light and dark practitioners of the Force alike. Not beholden to ideals of unrealistic virtue or corrupted by the opportunity of self gain and self service, the Ren fought for this vision in all that they sought to accomplish and at the forefront of every battle, Brennan Cabrol stood ready to die for this vision to be achieved.

Lifting the hand that carried the Dirk, he detatched the black hooded clock from the front of his armor's collar, allowing the heavy fabric to drop away and onto the floor leaving him free to enter into battle unburdened. There for the Dark Jedi to witness, the cybnertic modifications in place stood out through parts of his armor and carried his weight more than double of that of his former self. His strength was beyond human, a combination of poly-alloy and phrik reinforced exo-skeleton creating a truly capable brute of a competitor, his new body designed for the fearless defiance that he often slew upon his enemy, always eager to take into the fires of war and collide with those lesser creatures to bring down the righteous hand of the First Orders indomitable might. Turning to stand side on from the Dark Jedi, his right hand brought the lightsaber to lift and point directly at his opponent, his feet parting and knees bending ever so slightly to secure his foothold while the Dirk came to sit before the front of his helm, it's blade too directed towards Raejar, ready for the warrior to show him what he was made of and to prove just how useless his fight was in the face of true power.

 

[Raejar]

The feeling of the tip of the saber striking home reverberated up Raejar’s arms and for a second the Mahanaim feared that the duel had already ended, he’d been looking for a challenge, someone worthy of testing his skills and abilities on. Thankfully the disciple of Ren he faced wore armor, the saber skirted off the phrik plates revealing the nature of the armor. There weren’t many metals or alloys in the galaxy that could withstand lightsaber blows in such a way. It didn’t matter which it was just yet as Raejar would begin to think of different ways to engage this foe. If some or even most of the disciples’ body was protected by the armor it would be difficult to deliver any true finishing blows.

Placing weight on his right leg and straightening himself, Raejar shifted so he’d be facing Caehl the entire time. Left hand moving up to grip the lightsaber Raejar angled it, the tip of the blade pointing up and to the right. His legs were spaced a shoulder-width apart. What would seem like numerous movements were done, linked together as though Raejar was in a dance. In a way he was, this was a dance of death. One where his and Caehl’s life were both on the line. One misstep could result in the loss of a limb or something far more valuable. A single miscalculation would end with Raejar’s corpse left on the floor of some suite completely forgotten.

Caehl’s saber bit into the plastoid chestplate of Raejar’s burning into the material. Plastoid was capable of taking small blows from lightsabers but it was not truly resistant to it like some of the more sought-after materials in the galaxy. As the saber carved a small furrow into the plate it turned a bright orange before darkening. That was before Caehl’s saber met Raejar’s . The Sith dirk aimed for his throat hence why the blade had been angled in such a way. To deal with the larger of the threats while minimizing what damage he’d take from Caehl’s lightsaber.

Continuing to rotate and keep his eyes on Caehl, Raejar watched the man. He was sizing the Ren up, trying to see how the man operated, how he carried himself in battle. Looking down to the chestplate of his armor and back to Caehl, Raejar chuckled. “That was a good hit, you won’t be getting too many more of those… Enjoy it while you can.”

Raejar needn’t flinch as the glass gave way to the might of Caehl’s saber and showered them. His own armor saw to that and the glass that would’ve potentially blinded him bounced harmlessly off the mask. “Listen I know we’re sharing a suite right now, and I may be incredibly good looking but I don’t swing that way.” This was mainly a comment directed at the Ren who had decided to remove the cloak but in his mind, Raejar knew the battle was truly on. His opponent was getting serious.

The sheer amount of cybernetics that could be seen bonded with the Ren was a marvel, yet horrifying. “You poor fool, you’re more machine than man at this point. How does it feel?” Raising his arms, holding the saber over his head, Raejar angled the blade upwards and behind himself. “Let me ease your suffering!” Legs pushing off against the hardwood floor, Raejar propelled himself at his enemy. While he was not a machine or one that sported cybernetics Raejar was every bit as fast if not faster than his enemy. Mahanaim could run at up to sixty kilometers per hour. Something that many of the galaxies finest athletes couldn’t. Bringing the blade down from above in what appeared to be a cleaving motion Raejar reached out with his mind latching onto the blanket from the bed with his will. A second thought brought the blanket up and between himself and Caehl blocking the Mahanaim from view. Now shifting his weight to his right foot and extending out in another thrust, arm parallel to the ground Raejar aimed a piercing blow for the Ren’s neck which was naught but another misdirect, with a slight flick of his wrist the tip would shift up to strike at the Ren’s chin.

[member="Caehl Ren"]

 

[WolfMortum]

[member="Raejar"] had made a critical error in his attack, it had been a innovative attempt yet inevitably his downfall as he had sought to pull one of the bed spreads between them holding it up within the force as a material cloak that sought to remove him from Caehl's neural interface. For some this might have worked well given the pace of his attack and yet the cybernetics that connected his mind to his body and aided in the higher processing of cognitive and behavioral reflexes once again came into play to the Disciple of Ren's advantage. Without dropping the Sith Dirk Caehl reached out, extending his fingers while keeping the short sword in hand by the hook of his thumb, calling to the force in order to summon a telekinetic wave of energy in the Dark Jedi's direction, simultaneously raising his lightsaber at the ready in his right hand yet too swiftly leaping backwards to put further distance between the two as he sought to use the force against his opponent, the blanket that had been Raejar's shield now becoming the embrace of death that the Ren wished to spill unto the air.

His opponents lightsaber strikes were clever though missed him by inches; the mans former attempt to humiliate or shame the Ren with needless words now being left in the moments passed, a silent ridicule to the one who had spoken them as Caehl Ren simply stood his ground looking back at the other, his head slightly tilted as if in silent jest. Was this all that his opponent could muster, was this the source of strength that had led the Disciple now dead on the floor to turn traitor to the First Order and insult the Supreme Leader by defecting to the likes of the Sith. It was unimaginable the cowardice that must have clung to the creatures heart, dishonor and without dignity for what the poor fool had sought to represent, if it weren't for the pride of Sieger Ren, Caehl might not have been so rushed to give him a quick death yet his priorities had changed now and in the moment that he allowed the Dark Jedi to recover, his left hand that held the Sith Dirk soon flicked the weapon loosely across the room, releasing it to the broken window that it might plummet down below to the ground floor, eventually being recalled by the Talisman yet not until the two hours were up or the Disciple of Ren otherwise looked to reclaim it. Here, within this battle it was ever so clear that the weapon would be unnecessary to bring the Dark Jedi crumbling before him. To outspoken and full with arrogance, the lightsaber that Caehl held lifted, his left hand clutching at the hilt and tightening around it, turning to the side as his gaze narrowed in on his opponent and his form changed to that of a Djem So high guard, the blade being lifted over top of his head, facing behind him while he prepared to go once more on the attack. Yet only once his opponent was ready to face him and be taken down with no excuses to hide his embarrassment.

Suddenly and without further ague the Disciple and loyal servant to the one true overlord of the galaxy surged forward, the floorboards under his feet cracking this time, the strength of his sudden momentum built upon cybernetic limbs and simulated muscle mass drove him back against the enemy with a speed to match the fool's own; the first of his strikes brought the lightsaber arcing down in a diagonal strike aiming from the Dark Jedi's left shoulder to his right him, the strength behind the double handed cleave taking longer in the attack yet going the distance to make the single blow a difficult parry, one that would take his opponent in two if he were not quick in his reactions. Yet his attack did not end there, instead as he continued to step forward, his right foot lifted and he gave the other a heavy boot thrust towards his midsection followed by the return of the lightsaber, both hands swinging it out across a horizontal pitch as Caehl recovered with a single back step. Finally, determined to keep his opponent on the back foot, his wrists turned as he brought the back of the hilt towards his chest, soon thrusting it back with a vicious lunge targeting the males chest, aiming squarely for his heart with the intent of driving him through.

If he was to be victorious, he would take the Dark Jedi's head for the glory of Sieger Ren and to prove himself worthy of the First Order's upper echelon warriors. For now however, with the heat of the moment and adrenaline burning through out his veins, his only true desire was to see this wretched creature succumb not to the strength of the First Order, but to Brennan Cabrol's own dominance over the lesser foe.

 

[Raejar]

The counter the Ren had offered to the sheet proved the intelligence and ability to improvise. It was impressive and had caught Raejar off guard the only saving grace was that he had used the sheet as simply a visible shield and his saber easily sheered through it. The linen was now singed, burnt to a crisp in the air between himself and the Ren. The scent of burning linen isn’t something many people want and as the scent assaulted Raejar’s nose through the mask he began to reassess the situation, the Ren wasn’t the typical force user who relied on their abilities in the force, he was far more physical, he didn’t use the force in excess. He held it back, was it because he wasn’t skilled in it or due to holding his abilities in reserve? A mystery to be sure, one Raejar intended to solve.

He could feel it, that cool arrogance, the sense of superiority over a foe, aspects that all darksiders seemed to share when dominating a bout. Something that even Raejar himself was guilty of, how did it make him feel? It made the boy inside the man laugh with a giddy joy, Raejar’s heart sored, he could love this man opposite of him, a challenger, a true one. This was what the Dark Jedi strived for, a fight unlike any other, one that would test the limits of their abilities, and while Raejar hadn’t even begun to delve into them he knew that by the end one of them would be dead or they’d both be on the verge of death. Let me aid you my child, accept my gifts! Together we can defeat this foe! Came the honeyed voice of Raejar’s mistress, speaking directly into his mind. The woman who’d been there since a child, the one offering him power, the darkside was his mistress.

“I do not need your gifts, I will do this on my own. You just watch that weak boy I used to be rise to heights never reached.” Raejar whispered beneath his breath, his voice dampened by the mask. Watching his foe Raejar took note of the opening stance, one that Raejar was all too familiar with, he and the Ren even used the same form. Though Raejar focused more on the Shien variant. This was truly his counterpart. The Ren was the one who opened up the next round, once again Raejar took note of the floorboards cracking and slightly cringed. Just how strong were those cybernetics? A human capable of matching a Mahanaim, but this Ren had given up what made him human in return. He was a slave to the machines, Raejar still intended to free him of not only them but the land of the living as a whole.

The first attack came from Raejar’s left side, right foot stepping back and upper body leaning to the left, Raejar raised his saber in his right hand. Bringing the saber round to meet the Ren’s, Raejar didn’t meet the force, instead his saber aided the other in passing by harmlessly. At the same time his left arm lifted, held in a fist and pointed directly at the Ren’s chest. The thing about Raejar was that while trained by a Dark Jedi he had also been raised by a Mandalorian for the past 5 years. Trained by her, taught, he didn’t rely only on sabers. Without warning the wrist mounted charric blaster built into the gauntlet of his left hand fired. The Ren would find that the Charric rounds were near impossible to stop if he was able to get his lightsaber up in time, and if he didn’t the mixture of kinetic, and thermal energy would impact the phrik plates, along with it an electrical discharge that would carry across the metallic armor and possibly cybernetics.

As the charric rounds fired off Raejar felt an intense weight and strain on his chest. The booted foot of the Ren and its cybernetics slammed into the plastoid chestplate with extreme force. Raejar had to growl as there was a massive exhalation of air from the hit. It would've been far worse if the kinetic damage didn't travel across the plastoid plates hence one of the reasons slugthrowers were useless against it. The force of the blow carried Raejar off his feet, throwing him backwards where his back would hit the ground. Letting the momentum carry him backwards Raejar would roll to his feet looking down to the plastoid plate thankful for including it in his armor.

[member="Caehl Ren"]

 

[WolfMortum]

The clash of their blades sent his lightsaber on in moment as the Dark Jedi had retaliated not in stopping the blade but in encouraging it's passing him by, adding to the weight of the strike with his own quick interception and follow through. Still, Brennan Cabrol was undeterred and stepping in, his right foot lifting from the floor of the grand hotel suite, he threw it out against the flat of [member="Raejar"]'s midsection with as much of his strength and might that he could muster. Initially the impact he felt beneath the sole of his boot and the force that coerced his shock inhibiters within his cybernetic limbs to work in overdrive, came as a moment of small victory yet he too had not anticipated his opponents hidden weapon within the Gauntlet of the mans armor. The wrist mounted charric blaster unleashed a startling amount of force within the bolt that it plunged heavy into the center of the cyborg Ren, the heat of the projectiles energy incinerating the outside layer of Phrik as it buried itself within the mechanical monster, picking him up off of balance against all the weight of his poly-alloy exoskeleton and forcing him to stumble back, smoke rising up from in front of him and electrical currents snapping out against the air from the exposed hole that soon began to drip flow slowly down his mid-section, a mixture of blood, oil and coolant fluid from within his augmented body. Thanks to the Faraday Cage within his Armor, the electrical charge within the impact that was meant for the Ren's body was otherwise restricted and refrained from assaulting his metal form, yet the burning could not be denied, the flesh and muscle that remained with him felt to burn against the heat, his Armor serving only to ensure this pain before he reached into his own charred wound and against all reason pulled what remained of the bolt out, tossing the blackened lump of charric plasma, blood and pieces of electrical wiring out of himself, the heat searing at his fingers and palm yet by comparison to the wound he had suffered, felt nothing in the face of what this Dark Jedi had done to him.

With the Sith Dirk no longer in his left hand and this wretch having gone the distance to infuriate the Disciple of Ren, he looked back upon one of the lessons of his Master [member="Kriel Firin"] in order to even the playing field...-If not level it entirely. His palm opened and around him the environment darkened as Brennan channeled every ounce of his concentration to pull strength from the Darkside of the Force; something in the way the air held itself and would be received through his Respiratory system changed. The atmosphere the two combatants shared grew incredibly dense with power and soon the tide of this presence came to find itself within his left side, channeling down from where his heart remained, towards the left arm itself, the loose gaps within his armor that sealed his flesh out of view beginning to excrete a dark violet haze of molecules, like a gas of some-sort rising up into the air around him. He was no expert in the ways of the Art of the Small but for what he had planned, he need not have mastered the art. With this new insult to the senses came the overwhelming scent that would alert Raejar well before it become thick enough to be rendered visible.

Only then, with the evidence of what he was bringing about the suite that they stood within, staring each other down with malice for one another did Brennan drew from the back of his belt, a pair of Incendiary Grenades, his thumb pressing down against the activation of the timed trigger to one of the explosive devices, they both held within the one hand, his right flicking the lightsaber around in a full rotation with the twist of his wrist. Through the Visor of his helm, he watched Raejar, searching for a reaction that the man might possible put two and two together and realize that the manipulation of his own bodies molecular structure had converged at one point of his body to release into the air around him, not a poisonous element but an extremely flammable one. Explosive when mixed with such a volatile weapon as his Incendiaries, a tool that he had come to feel great fondness for since those very same flames had engulfed everything within the hilikan plant.

With a single toss of the two explosives, the wave of his arm influenced the flow of the air around him and the element that his body had conducted through the channeling and restructuring of his own living cells soon followed the small devices, guided by the Disciple of Ren's will to move towards his opponent seeking to surround the area in which he stood. Seconds suddenly became vital moments where survival would need to be fought desperately to ensure. Beyond the pairs hearing the explosives timed down one after the other, the smallest count the grenades were capable of before they would then erupt and spread a wave of fire and smoke tearing through their metal casings and mixing with the gasses, igniting the entire suite with such a force that all the windows across that side of the building three levels high and three below them would shatter and burst outwards across the street.

Amongst the Chaos, Brennan felt the force of the blast impact with him full momentum, his body being torn from the floor and thrown backwards, through a number of walls, crumbling down through wood and fibrelight, hitting the floor and rolling through dust, debris and furniture, the hell fire continuing to follow in his wake yet overtaking him as he remained, not seeking to pull himself up and meet the brunt of the torrential storm but waiting to allow it to pass as his physical body ached and burned, the scent of blood and burned flesh rising up about him, the outer casing of his armor gleaming orange by the intensity of the eruption that had rippled through out the right wing of the massive structure and likely called to attention the towers from all sides of the massive city.

Slowly, as the initial wave of fire died down and resigned to burning away at the interior of the structure, Brennan swept away the debris that covered him, his right hand reaching to recollect the weapon, the blade of his lightsaber no longer active since it had left his grip. Struggling to stand, his cybernetic enhancements kicked in and as if acting against his own desires, they forced his body to function where his muscles were too strained to do so, adding his own form of suffering to what were typically normal actions, his teeth clenching down together as he did his best to bite through the torment and seek to discover what had become of his opponent. Whether or not he had been killed in the blast, or if somehow he managed to survive, in which case the Ren scanned the area around him searching for the moment to end this battle and once again prove to the Galaxy who was on top in the dominance of war and the pursuit for absolute security through all means necessary of attaining and protecting that peace.

 

[Raejar]

There was a slight pain in Raejar’s chest from the kick, the only thing that kept the Mahanaim alive was the plastoid plate and how it was able to deal with kinetic damage dispersing it. There would still be a bruise for the next few days… A trophy of sorts from Raejar’s most competent of foes, this Ren was someone Raejar could see as a rival. Was the fight even over the Ren that abandoned the order or did this man feel the same thrill that Raejar did. While his breathing was shaky Raejar began to gather his composure, his foe had taken the charric blast full on and still survived. Damn… Faraday cage. Raejar assumed, in his other set of armor he had one equipped, mainly when going up against Sith or those odd jedi that chose to delve into the darkside. Of course, Faraday cages were becoming more popular in the galaxy. It was probably the only thing that kept the Ren’s cybernetics from completely shutting down. KARK, this Ren is insane! Damn zealots. Raejar thought his eye twitching behind the mask. To willingly dig a charric bolt out while you’re still bleeding was foolhardy, all it would do besides look threatening is speed up the Ren’s blood loss.

Then there were a few moments of the Ren just standing there, something that Raejar noticed as using the force but just what was the Ren doing? Eyes glancing into the corner of his HUD Raejar realized the atmosphere around them was changing, his HUD tracking the changes. The fool! He’s lost it, he’s going to try and kill us both. Raejar thought glancing between the tracker in his HUD and back to the Ren. He couldn’t move as that would give the appearance that he knew the Ren’s plan. If Raejar began to take action the Ren would change his tactic, if the Ren was going to kill himself, Raejar planned to follow along. Be the sheep in this instance as the wolf struck the finishing blow against himself. Besides Raejar had an ability he wanted to toy around with.

The flammable gas in the atmosphere became more prominent and as he kept track of it Raejar took in massive breaths, each one causing his chest to rise and fall, rise and fall. Steeling himself for what came next Raejar’s head didn’t move, his mouth opened behind the mask and he yelled, the words were laced with power. Not with some pitiful mental trick to make one obey his whim or crush their will. The power laced with these words was a physical one. “NOOOO!” Raejar yelled the words amplified and a wave of air pushing out from him in all directions pushing the gas away. That is when the explosions went off. With the air having been cleared around himself Raejar was still slammed by the sheer kinetic energy. Torn from his feet the Mahanaim was slammed back through the wall of the suite into the hall beyond before crashing into the wall with enough force that plaster fell from it to hit his helmet. Flames exploded out the room engulfing the hall, alarms went off and rooms opened, civilians rushed out their rooms, their screams reverberating through the hall as Raejar came to his feet. The plastoid plates were completely scorched, every part of the Mahanaim ached, the muscles screamed at him to just lay down yet he pushed on.

Unhooking the plastoid plates from his chest Raejar let the charred hulks fall to the ground, the Asheran armorweave was still in good condition. Placing a hand on the wall Raejar breathed out, a sigh of relief, if he hadn’t used the force he would’ve probably died in the explosion that ensued or been far worse off. Above the fire system kicked on and the floor he was on began to flash with red, the sprinklers activated raining down on the helmet. Flexing the clinial, a special organ of the mahanaim, Raejar let out a short screech. The screech reached out encompassing the floor before returning to the special organ in Raejar’s ear allowing him to get a lay of the hotel through echolocation… The Ren was alive. Not only alive but he was getting up. I’m ending this.

Lightsaber clenched tightly in his right hand Raejar entered the ruins of what had been the suite. What remained of the walls was charred and crumbling, flames still raged as the sprinkler system tried to fight them off. What had been far from a cheap suite was now in ruins. I’m going to take every credit out of his hide.

Walking through the hole Caehl’s body had created Raejar saw the Ren coming from beneath the rubble. Usually, the Dark Jedi would give some snide remark. Gloat about his imminent victory but no… Not this time. This enemy deserved more than that. He’d put up a valiant effort and for that Raejar would slay him with honor. Chest rising Raejar looked at him. “Now you…” Head leaning forward Raejar finished the sentence with a roar as the clinial flexed. Not only could it release a screech for echolocation but became a screech capable of disorienting a Mahanaim’s foes. “BURNNNN!!!!” The scream roared out and with it, a massive concussive wave of air was released, the rubble in its path yanked free and carried as shrapnel.

[member="Caehl Ren"]

 

[WolfMortum]

[member="Raejar"] it seemed had too survived the blast that shook the high rise apartment block, the emergency fire suppressors coming into play as water began to shower the area, the sprinklers hoping to dash the beginnings of flames that threatened to rise ever higher if left unchecked. Through the rapid extinguishing, Brennan Cabrol pushed himself forward, his armor still steaming from the wealth of the heat that he had brought upon the battle between them, the burn to the interior of his gear searing at the flesh beneath, that of which hadn't been replaced by cybernetics feeling the pain and stress from their bout yet the Darkside of the force fueling his drive, his raw lust for violence to see this mans blood spilled across his feet, drained of life and forced to kneel before him, dead or alive, did much to negate the personal injury that he himself was taking in the pursuit of service to the one true overlord of the Galaxy, the Supreme Leader and bringer of Order and Justice against an unruly and chaotic society.

“Now you…BURNNNN!!!!”​

​

Caehl Ren had expected more of the same small talk and boost of the Dark Jedi's self serving ego, yet the final word came with a sudden cry out from the Force, a warning that precognition often displayed in the face of sudden death. His lightsaber lowered in his right hand, replaced by the swift ending of his left arm, hand open and palm facing the direction of his opponent, the dark side of the force pooling to him in response to Raejar's own presence and summoning a consistent barrage of telekinetic energy to be sent forth against the scream that against the Disciples experience, brought with it such a physical reaction that the words tore up at the permacrete and tiled floor around him, the loose furniture and shards of broken windows that hadn't already been torn from their holdings soon being thrown in his direction.

He hadn't been given nearly enough warning to prepare himself however, his telekinetic shield hadn't the time to solidify itself in strength and the momentum of the scream sent such an impact against the disciple that his left leg buckled against the weight of the attack, struggling to keep his defense up, his knee bent and found the ground-floor beneath him, his stance being crippled enough to further impede his ability to keep the power and ferocity of wind rushing against him, his right hand taking the brunt of the force of which he could no longer shape the shield from protecting, his lightsaber being torn from his grip and cast afar behind him, the metallic shaft clattering across the suite somewhere out of sight leaving the Ren to try to reinforce his protective barrier with the now free yet unarmed effort of the right.

The attack eventually subsided, leaving Brennan on a knee, his hands outstretched before him and his shoulders rising and falling, taking in large gasps of air, his Cybernetic Respiratory echoing in his bodies frustrations, the strength required to protect himself against such a force while too sustaining a strong telekinetic barrier having taken it out of him, he seemed to be finally showing some sentient weakness in that stamina was not a prolonged and constantly sustainable attribute beneath the weight of the armor and modifications brought on to his body, carried into battle.

Forcing himself up to stand once again, his hands both fell to his sides, both flexing open and shut into balled fists, the Dark Jedi having disarmed the Ren yet failed to end the battle as he had so meant to. Brennan was determined to carry it on, even if it meant driving his phrik plated knuckles over and over into the skull of his enemy. "You would have made an adequate servant of Sieger Ren" Brennan spoke darkly as he began to walk towards his enemy showing no fear in the face of his armed foe; so rare it was to receive a compliment from the likes of the Disciple, what little he had said to his enemy, for those who knew of him, might have understand and even been astonished to hear him praise an enemy upon the battle field.

 

[Raejar]

Raejar had to admit he was impressed by the fact that the Disciple had been able to withstand the attack though it seemed to be quite the struggle. The Disciple had to kneel and even use both hands to generate enough force to withstand the attack. Chest rising and falling as he gathered himself after the attack Raejar contemplated releasing a second one and ending the fight where it was. Burying the Disciple beneath rubble and leaving him on the world, but would the Disciple have a counter a second time. Repeating the same attack numerous times would give the Disciple more knowledge on how to deal with Raejar in a second encounter, that was the reason he planned to ensure that only one of them left the planet alive.

Slightly shocked to hear the Ren speak Raejar chuckled as his left arm shot out and pulled back in, the faint clicking sound of the wrist-mounted charric reloading could be heard. “Sorry, I would never enslave myself to such a false prophet… If you want to run around being a servant, so be it but don’t ever think that it’s for everyone. I don’t bow to the Sith, nor would I ever bow to your pitiful Ren.” Taking note that the Disciple of Ren was no longer equipped with a saber Raejar smiled. The opening and closing of the fists, the way in which the words were said. Raejar had studied beneath what they called 'The Zealot of the Dark Jedi Order' Yet never before did he think he’d meet a zealot so devoted to a leader as this one. Not even the Sith were so dedicated to their Dark Lord… No this was perverse, erroneous and so many other words that Raejar couldn’t devote his time to using.

“I will say that I am impressed at your own abilities. You nearly killed me up there… This may be hard for you to believe but I don’t actually appreciate that.” Eyes narrowing behind the mask, Raejar raised his right gauntlet, a faint whirring became audible quickly followed by the sound of dozens of small slugthrower rounds being propelled from the gauntlet at the Disciple of Ren, Raejar may be arrogant, and prideful, yet he would never enter a fist fight with one possessing cybernetics like the Ren had bonded himself with. It would be pure folly. Better to end the man here at a distance and without expending any more energy on the force if that was possible.

[member="Caehl Ren"]