Location:
Gehinnom II
Opposition:
Darth Sorn
Maestus
Equipment:
Azoth Talisman of Iron Fists
Really? She was still trying the same trick again after it failed the first time? Those kind of instant-kill techniques only really worked for those that had an overwhelming power advantage. An advantage that Maestus sadly lacked. She was powerful certainly, but she lacked the overwhelming strength that would allow her to mess with his body easily. Especially when he was paying more attention now that her hand had been shown to him.
It also didn't hurt that she used what was originally a Jedi technique. One that he had passing familiarity with and had a general idea how to counter. Opening himself up to the Force, allowing it to flood his body with refreshing, life-giving energy, vitalising cells and restoring his autonomy of his own body.
Autonomy demonstrated as he inhaled deeply in plain few of the two Sith, letting out another disappointed sigh. Tricks like this wouldn't do much to him. Despite what Sorn might think, Aaran was not exactly a pushover, he was not some baby faced Jedi who just built his saber. He'd been fighting wars before he was legally allowed to drink in most civilised systems.
And when the aura of passive dread attempted to settle into him, to distract him, to weaken him. It was but a drop in a vast ocean that was the Jedi's mind. Here he was, on a statuion of a cult that lauded misery that held thousands of captive slaves suffering in abject misery, all pounding on the edge of his senses, while war raged below. When just weeks ago he had been subjected to the Taskmaster's tender mercies, where before that he felt an entire world die simply so the minions of the Worm Emperor could empower themselves.
Had he not faced down Dark Lords and countless Sith who seemed to be competing with each other over how much suffering they could inflict upon the innocent. Sorn's assault might have done something to him. But such minor, glancing effects could not so much as break his stride. Neither of his opponents were giving their all to beating him.
And as the lightning arced towards him, his free hand was raised again, his body becoming an empty void of energy for Sorn's power to flow into. The raw hatred manifested into an electrical blast, stopped flat in his palm and gathering into a roiling thunderous sphere of energy.
Before it was simply let go, dissipating into the air with the scent of ozone and crackle of static electricity. The Jedi deciding that such power was not needed and simply returned to the universe around him.
His commlink beeped twice. A simple affirmation that the objective was being completed, the captives were being freed and released from any planted explosives or other such nasty tricks that were being used to keep them in bondage.
"Well." He finally said, clapping his hands.
"That was... underwhelming." He mused, head tilting to the side as he regarded the two Sith.
"But I think its time I stopped playing around." He jerked his head towards Sorn.
"I really hope you do have more to show than that. Because with all the trash talking you've done. It'll be really embarrassing if you don't kill me soon. Makes you look kinda dumb." Hand reaching down to his belt, he finally drew his lightsaber. Igniting it with a familiar snapping hiss.
His other hand moved, palm raised towards Maestus before his fist clenched. Panels, tables, various sharp implements used for experiments and general torment surged from their holding, ripping themselves off the walls and flew towards the Sith from all angles, as if the Twi'lek had become the centre of her own gravity well. The contents of the room surging towards her in an attempt to crush her.
Aaran was quite rightly done playing around. He had bought enough time, now he simply had to make sure that an exit was cleared.
Sorn would have a different issue to deal with. For the moment the onslaught of debris assailed Maestus, the Jedi's form would blur, almost vanishing from sight as the distance between the two was crossed in an instant as Aaran decided to stop playing with the two Sith and engage in what he specialised in.
Swordplay. Namely the style of absolute aggression that was Vaapad. The deadliest of styles because it relied on one of the most dangerous things a Jedi could do with a fight.
They had to enjoy it.
Aaran was never one to enjoy violence for its own sake. He was not some psychopath that enjoyed hurting others or shedding blood. To him combat was always a means of testing himself, providing that the effort and hard work he put into pushing himself to the limit would win out in the end. That the choices he made and the dedication to his path in life would triumph over things such as bloodlines, genetic experiments or other tricks and shortcuts people would use to deepen their connection to the Force.
It was a reassurance that it was the choices one made that mattered.
And so now he made the choice to fight for those who could not, mimicking the creature on which the form was
based on, golden blade swinging so quickly around Sorn that it would feel as if he was being assailed from multiple angles simultaneously. Not unlike what was happening to Maestus. His opponent moved so fast that it almost as if it looked like he was somehow wielding three sabers at once and not just one.
And each of them all swinging at once towards vital areas, intent on cutting him down.
Kyrel Ren
Kybo Ren
Allies:
Jasper Kai'el
