THE UNDEFEATED
Many Months Ago, Pre-Return to Ossus.
Months and months of training, Jaryn spent alone without disturbance.
He sat in rags like a monk without food, he had mastered his body and disciplined it to near perfection. His next step was the mind, he had mastered all of its contents except for the ability to perceive what was known as Shatterpoints, a complex Force phenomenon, perceivable only by an unknown innate talent or immense focus and concentration on the part of the Force-user. Shatterpoints were akin to fault lines; similar to different pathways of actions. Adept Force-users were able to perceive these faults through the Force, and influence them.
Jaryn had always had a cunning sense of fault, such as it was he was aware of how a book known as "Wraith's and Force Ghosts" would fall apart, and what pages would begin to fall and tear and degrade. However, he had to discipline himself to the apex of his potential to reach the state in which he was ready to seek out such a raw power. Jaryn was silent, as his mind sought out answers to his problem. Before the Master was set a cup, and he intended to find its weakness and cause it to splinter. Jaryn sat in silence, his mind mulling over many things.
How had such a young, quiet book worm become who was before him today. This was his challenge;
People, were like glass. They were shaped and formed into objects of beauty, disgust and many were used as tools by those of higher power and many had their lives and minds shattered before their very own eyes. Many people suffered the burden of being caught in the crossfire of the sith and jedi. Was he one of those people? Jaryn didn't believe it unreasonable to think so. He was no jedi, not anymore. He may have fought alongside them now, called them his kin. But he was not one of them, he was a killer, scoundrel and lost young master of the force. His mind troubled him often, if he was to find the faults in the glass, he would find his answers in what it reflected.
Himself.
Jaryn closed his eyes and his mind focused on the glass and his inner being. His life flashing before him like a film without tape, he couldn't stop it. He couldn't stop what happened to him or those he considered his people on coruscant. They had lost, they had all lost. But, Jaryn was helpless. He was defeated by a lone sith knight and a three sith troopers. Now, the man that sat humbled in rags would kill 10x that amount with no weapons and without breaking as much as a sweat. He had changed so much since then...
Change, was this a metamorphosis or was he merely forcing himself into this facade?
Jaryn's mind troubled him so, he had been a pathetic fighter but knowledgeable in the force. He had peace, now he was angry and frustrated and very few things/people brought him serenity. Such as the cold rush of adrenaline he felt before he engaged in combat. Everytime he was ready to fight, he re-enacted a similar ritual. In a meditating stance he would enhance, and exhale in a very slow manner. Inhaling the will to act and the thirst for blood. Allowing his blood to boil and bubble beneath the calm exterior and allowed the steam to rise and exit his mind as he exhaled. Jaryn channeled his energy into a powerful force to be reckoned with. He could see it now, the cracks forming in the surface. But, it ran so much deeper than that.
There was more, simply more to it. Everytime Jaryn began to fight, he felt the same cold rush before he engaged. He didn't think. feel or sympathise in combat. He simply,supplied justice to those who were guilty of injustice. Jaryn soon learned serving the people was far more important to him than anything else. Any order, any civilization. Because, whether the Mandalorians, Sith or Jedi liked to admit it or not... They were people, too.
The Mandalorians;
They allowed their pride to cloud their vision and continue a war they simply could not win, for thousands upon thousands of generations the mandalorians remained stubborn and foolish and more than once destroyed themselves. They were a proud and honorable race of formidable warriors. However, they were nothing but a broken shadow of their former self now. At least, from what Jaryn knew. He was unaware of any true mandalorian army in these days. Now, they hid behind their ships and weapons, they evolved and now nobody will touch them,
The Sith;
The sith empire is a stagnant beast that has been crushed once too many times and allowed to crop up again due to the foolishness of the Republic and the Jedi at that time, however [member="Joshua DragonsFlame"] was a step in the right direction and eventually led to a more stable and true Jedi Order. One that was currently being rebuilt, the order and the republic was weak. However, the sith are as they have always been. Relentless, relentless in their search for unlimited power and damnation of all who did not follow their code. The Order may have its bad eggs but in truth the Sith Empire was in its entirety a hive of scum and villainy. They're flaws were each other, their constant hunger for power and damnation of one and other has and will always lead to their eventual downfall. Even the One Sith will crumble due to infighting. It was simply their nature.
The Jedi;
Jaryn, he didn't know what to say about the Order. They have been weak recently, compromised by their foolish leaders. The true jedi, they were as seen in the times of Luke Skywalker, a significant member of an ancient bloodline of old. He didn't even know if he was real, but if the legends were true. He was a brilliant jedi, however the jedi of modern history and past had their faults. They allowed anyone into their ranks, regardless of status. They allowed potential sith and warlords and crusaders to blossom in their ranks. It sickened Jaryn, but he saw now way to stop such a thing. A single man could not make such changes.
Himself;
Jaryn was like anyone else, riddled with flaws. But, only a few could be consider a Shatterpoint. Jaryn had a great deal of guilt on his shoulders and to be able to perceive ones flaw's one must be a master of their own, and know how to conceal them. Know how to use them to his benefit, Jaryn sent a force shockwave across himself. studying his most predominant wounds. A healing cut across his calv, a healed and stitched shrapnel wound in the left side of his chest and the bottom of his throat. Several saberwhip strikes across his back and a small knife wound on his chin. He could feel them all at once, as if they were reopened. Like he was reopening his wounds and delving into the depths of his past to revisit these moments of extreme pain. He understood it, he watched with careful precision as every wound was made, and how it was sealed and therefore how to reopen it. His body he understood, his mind was another challenge. He could feel the mental marks on his mind in where his chains of guilt held him down, like all those he had ended were added to the pile. It started so small, but he grew to understand and enjoy the pain and added to the pile, every time it became harder to keep going. But he couldn't let go, not yet. He hadn't finished yet, this was his design.
Jaryn was in silence, he saw this wound. He felt the death of those he loved on coruscant and all around him the pile grew again, from nothing to stacks high of sith. a pile that had begun with the jedi. Just as how the age old fight between the Jedi and Sith had begun. With the first primitive Jedi.
Jaryn understood this, he understood this ability and how to access the shatterpoints of his own making. Now, he would study the glass.
Jaryn opened his eyes, and stretched out with his feelings to the glass. Covering every nanomolecule of the shape, seeing how it was molded and how it may be broken, and then he pressed hard and with great effort, a small crack appeared and then, the glass shattered.
Jaryn repeated this pattern many times, stretching out his feelings and practicing with the glass until stretching out and understanding shatterpoints became easier. Then, he moved onto bigger objects. Soon, he would learn to use it on a person.
Months, later. Present Day.
Jaryn practiced nearly every day until the reading of shatterpoints became simple.
He was now able to read a persons shatterpoints. But, he was unable to act upon them. But now, he had the opportunity.
Before him stood a lone, and tired sith knight. Jaryn had fought off her sith apprentices with ease and now came face to face with the knight. Alone, in the valleys of tatooines desert. Jaryn had thrown the women around with telekinesis and now had his chance. He focused, stretching out with his feelings and find her shatterpoints. She had a scar, a saber wound that traced into her chest and even into the depths of her heart. Jaryn outstretched his hand, and opened up his palm. As if, grasping for her scar. He felt it, he saw how it happened. When she was much younger, a apprentice no less. Her master beat her and cut her open, Jaryn almost felt sorry for her. But, deep inside her; she enjoyed it and grew from it and respected it now, she was sickening. Jaryn had to lock his emotions off from her to save himself from the poison of the darkside. He understood the wound, he completely empathized with it and locked away his emotions from the equations. Then, he clenched his fist, and then flung his fingers upwards, as a gesture to help direct his attack. Her wound ripped open, as she dazed about confused. She screamed, and gripped her wound and heeled over as blood exploded from her wildly beating heart. She would die, but Jaryn cut her head off with his saber. Ending her suffering, he had discovered how to act upon such a thing as a shatterpoint. But, as his emotions returned to him. He realised, he was exhausted. Jaryn almost buckled over and collapsed. But, he pushed on and made it to Mos Eisley safely before returning to the Ossus temple.
Months and months of training, Jaryn spent alone without disturbance.
He sat in rags like a monk without food, he had mastered his body and disciplined it to near perfection. His next step was the mind, he had mastered all of its contents except for the ability to perceive what was known as Shatterpoints, a complex Force phenomenon, perceivable only by an unknown innate talent or immense focus and concentration on the part of the Force-user. Shatterpoints were akin to fault lines; similar to different pathways of actions. Adept Force-users were able to perceive these faults through the Force, and influence them.
Jaryn had always had a cunning sense of fault, such as it was he was aware of how a book known as "Wraith's and Force Ghosts" would fall apart, and what pages would begin to fall and tear and degrade. However, he had to discipline himself to the apex of his potential to reach the state in which he was ready to seek out such a raw power. Jaryn was silent, as his mind sought out answers to his problem. Before the Master was set a cup, and he intended to find its weakness and cause it to splinter. Jaryn sat in silence, his mind mulling over many things.
How had such a young, quiet book worm become who was before him today. This was his challenge;
People, were like glass. They were shaped and formed into objects of beauty, disgust and many were used as tools by those of higher power and many had their lives and minds shattered before their very own eyes. Many people suffered the burden of being caught in the crossfire of the sith and jedi. Was he one of those people? Jaryn didn't believe it unreasonable to think so. He was no jedi, not anymore. He may have fought alongside them now, called them his kin. But he was not one of them, he was a killer, scoundrel and lost young master of the force. His mind troubled him often, if he was to find the faults in the glass, he would find his answers in what it reflected.
Himself.
Jaryn closed his eyes and his mind focused on the glass and his inner being. His life flashing before him like a film without tape, he couldn't stop it. He couldn't stop what happened to him or those he considered his people on coruscant. They had lost, they had all lost. But, Jaryn was helpless. He was defeated by a lone sith knight and a three sith troopers. Now, the man that sat humbled in rags would kill 10x that amount with no weapons and without breaking as much as a sweat. He had changed so much since then...
Change, was this a metamorphosis or was he merely forcing himself into this facade?
Jaryn's mind troubled him so, he had been a pathetic fighter but knowledgeable in the force. He had peace, now he was angry and frustrated and very few things/people brought him serenity. Such as the cold rush of adrenaline he felt before he engaged in combat. Everytime he was ready to fight, he re-enacted a similar ritual. In a meditating stance he would enhance, and exhale in a very slow manner. Inhaling the will to act and the thirst for blood. Allowing his blood to boil and bubble beneath the calm exterior and allowed the steam to rise and exit his mind as he exhaled. Jaryn channeled his energy into a powerful force to be reckoned with. He could see it now, the cracks forming in the surface. But, it ran so much deeper than that.
There was more, simply more to it. Everytime Jaryn began to fight, he felt the same cold rush before he engaged. He didn't think. feel or sympathise in combat. He simply,supplied justice to those who were guilty of injustice. Jaryn soon learned serving the people was far more important to him than anything else. Any order, any civilization. Because, whether the Mandalorians, Sith or Jedi liked to admit it or not... They were people, too.
The Mandalorians;
They allowed their pride to cloud their vision and continue a war they simply could not win, for thousands upon thousands of generations the mandalorians remained stubborn and foolish and more than once destroyed themselves. They were a proud and honorable race of formidable warriors. However, they were nothing but a broken shadow of their former self now. At least, from what Jaryn knew. He was unaware of any true mandalorian army in these days. Now, they hid behind their ships and weapons, they evolved and now nobody will touch them,
The Sith;
The sith empire is a stagnant beast that has been crushed once too many times and allowed to crop up again due to the foolishness of the Republic and the Jedi at that time, however [member="Joshua DragonsFlame"] was a step in the right direction and eventually led to a more stable and true Jedi Order. One that was currently being rebuilt, the order and the republic was weak. However, the sith are as they have always been. Relentless, relentless in their search for unlimited power and damnation of all who did not follow their code. The Order may have its bad eggs but in truth the Sith Empire was in its entirety a hive of scum and villainy. They're flaws were each other, their constant hunger for power and damnation of one and other has and will always lead to their eventual downfall. Even the One Sith will crumble due to infighting. It was simply their nature.
The Jedi;
Jaryn, he didn't know what to say about the Order. They have been weak recently, compromised by their foolish leaders. The true jedi, they were as seen in the times of Luke Skywalker, a significant member of an ancient bloodline of old. He didn't even know if he was real, but if the legends were true. He was a brilliant jedi, however the jedi of modern history and past had their faults. They allowed anyone into their ranks, regardless of status. They allowed potential sith and warlords and crusaders to blossom in their ranks. It sickened Jaryn, but he saw now way to stop such a thing. A single man could not make such changes.
Himself;
Jaryn was like anyone else, riddled with flaws. But, only a few could be consider a Shatterpoint. Jaryn had a great deal of guilt on his shoulders and to be able to perceive ones flaw's one must be a master of their own, and know how to conceal them. Know how to use them to his benefit, Jaryn sent a force shockwave across himself. studying his most predominant wounds. A healing cut across his calv, a healed and stitched shrapnel wound in the left side of his chest and the bottom of his throat. Several saberwhip strikes across his back and a small knife wound on his chin. He could feel them all at once, as if they were reopened. Like he was reopening his wounds and delving into the depths of his past to revisit these moments of extreme pain. He understood it, he watched with careful precision as every wound was made, and how it was sealed and therefore how to reopen it. His body he understood, his mind was another challenge. He could feel the mental marks on his mind in where his chains of guilt held him down, like all those he had ended were added to the pile. It started so small, but he grew to understand and enjoy the pain and added to the pile, every time it became harder to keep going. But he couldn't let go, not yet. He hadn't finished yet, this was his design.
Jaryn was in silence, he saw this wound. He felt the death of those he loved on coruscant and all around him the pile grew again, from nothing to stacks high of sith. a pile that had begun with the jedi. Just as how the age old fight between the Jedi and Sith had begun. With the first primitive Jedi.
Jaryn understood this, he understood this ability and how to access the shatterpoints of his own making. Now, he would study the glass.
Jaryn opened his eyes, and stretched out with his feelings to the glass. Covering every nanomolecule of the shape, seeing how it was molded and how it may be broken, and then he pressed hard and with great effort, a small crack appeared and then, the glass shattered.
Jaryn repeated this pattern many times, stretching out his feelings and practicing with the glass until stretching out and understanding shatterpoints became easier. Then, he moved onto bigger objects. Soon, he would learn to use it on a person.
Months, later. Present Day.
Jaryn practiced nearly every day until the reading of shatterpoints became simple.
He was now able to read a persons shatterpoints. But, he was unable to act upon them. But now, he had the opportunity.
Before him stood a lone, and tired sith knight. Jaryn had fought off her sith apprentices with ease and now came face to face with the knight. Alone, in the valleys of tatooines desert. Jaryn had thrown the women around with telekinesis and now had his chance. He focused, stretching out with his feelings and find her shatterpoints. She had a scar, a saber wound that traced into her chest and even into the depths of her heart. Jaryn outstretched his hand, and opened up his palm. As if, grasping for her scar. He felt it, he saw how it happened. When she was much younger, a apprentice no less. Her master beat her and cut her open, Jaryn almost felt sorry for her. But, deep inside her; she enjoyed it and grew from it and respected it now, she was sickening. Jaryn had to lock his emotions off from her to save himself from the poison of the darkside. He understood the wound, he completely empathized with it and locked away his emotions from the equations. Then, he clenched his fist, and then flung his fingers upwards, as a gesture to help direct his attack. Her wound ripped open, as she dazed about confused. She screamed, and gripped her wound and heeled over as blood exploded from her wildly beating heart. She would die, but Jaryn cut her head off with his saber. Ending her suffering, he had discovered how to act upon such a thing as a shatterpoint. But, as his emotions returned to him. He realised, he was exhausted. Jaryn almost buckled over and collapsed. But, he pushed on and made it to Mos Eisley safely before returning to the Ossus temple.
