The Ession War (Reformation Jazz)

[Kelios Shara-da]

Kelios had arrived to a world that echoed with the screams of war. The very reverberations in the force sent pains through his chest as he flew down to the surface. It was worse that he now walked upon it, yet, the Horansi had to preserve. He had spent the last segment of his life freeing those from the One Sith's clutches on the understreets of Courscant. He had walked into the eyes of death to aid those who needed medical attention, food, water. Yet, he sensed something was in motion. He sensed the destiny of an old friend echoing across the galaxy once more and he had come for one man: Graxin Rade.

----------

Kelios prowled the city in the wake of a group soldiers. They were heavily armored, efficient, and even more so they were anomalies. No matter how concentrated Kelios became as he reached towards them with the force, he could not feel them. They were like walking husks, devoid of the life-blood which flowed through the Galaxy, devoid of the Force. Yet, the hulking Jedi followed in their wake. He was surprisingly quite given his size. Though the constant hum of blaster fire and the rubble may have helped with that.

As they gathered together and refitted in the streets by the capitol Kelios watched them from above. He pondered whether he should reveal his presence or try and stop the bloodshed these men and women were seemingly unleashing open their foes. Though instinct told him to stay silent for now and await the moment he heard of or found Graxin within this mess. Kelios normally would have sniffed him through the Force, but the death and destruction clouded his senses, deluding friend with foe.

"Soldiers." Kelios' voice finally rumbled as he made his choice. He stood in plain sight on a building above the regrouping soldiers, taking their moment of respite as his chance to get answers.

"Who are you and where is the one called Graxin Rade?"

[member="Book"]

Riley King

 

[Riley King]

Riley nodded. "Yes, yes I do." She admitted to Rexus - the implication being that yes I owe you for Twelve being a karking idiot with the grenade as well and my apologies. When the Force-Dead came up, she nodded in conformation. "Yes." Then she was free to go, and Riley immediately went to meet up with Book at Rally Point Alpha.

Because you seem to be doing so well at this rate. She thought, but kept it to herself. "That's g - hello." Twelve interrupted Riley as she brought her deecee up to aim at the large cat that had just popped into view and asked about Graxin Rade.

"Not here."

[member="Rexus Drath"] [member="Kelios Shara-da"] [member="Book"]

 

[Atlas Kane]

Corvus proceeded through the sewers, keeping up his guard along the way. He didn't notice anything special around him, other than the waters, which he avoided to look into. Soon, he noticed they were right underneath the palace, it would only be a couple more meters until they reached the hatch that would lead them inside. When they finally arrived, he pointed upwards and said "Here's where we'll get inside." and walked a couple more steps to clear the way for his employer and his soldiers to do whatever they planned to do to open the hatch.

[member="Corvinus Palpatine] [member="Devon Gramus"] [member="Lan Graendal"]

 

[Marcus Rann]

Bloodbath continues to spread over the war-torn planet of Ession, with both sides giving their blood and honour to win through various strategic areas in the corners near the capitol building.

But a strange distraction seems to covers most places in the planet, war rages on, still, claiming both the loyalist's and the Reformation unit's - lives. :
Gas spreads out and causes an outbreak between the two teams, either retreating on their respective bases or dying helplessly on breathing in the chemicals. Ession is now a foggy, and a seemingly dangerous planet.

Soon after the brawl Marcus had on one loyalist, he was tasked to find and crawl behind enemy lines, with Ession's loyalists uprising over. Fatigued over the fight he had, he doesn't really want to do the mission, though he is afraid to be exiled. Marcus sat right up bolt and scratches his head in worry, saying " Err, I am incredibly nervous about this. " , but the brief anxiety stops right after he jumped and ran across the roofs of the structures down low.

The young initiate of Ekul's covers his face with a respirator to avoid possible death to the gas outbreak. Marcus also had a sabre cloaking right inside his pockets and a pistol of a DL-44 kind, which he had been hiding from his master. The smell of death ( and gas ) covers anywhere on different places on the likely-deserted planet.

Meanwhile, the inexperienced Marcus punches in the clock near the energy rays and reactors, seeing two familiar faces right near the rays - two Jedi he had seen formally on a Republic escort. " Wait, I know these people. ", though it was before an Ession officer nearly strikes him and grapples him to the neck, but thanks to the hilt of his sabre on his hands, which is in his hand and is on his chest right when he was grappled.

He activates and pushes his sabre , which indented a colour of those of an amethyst, right on the stomach of the loyalist, getting the final blow for the man. Afterwards, he presses the officer right in front of the energy rays, making a distraction for some of his comrades to counter.

 

[Placeholder 0133]

Not a word was spoken by DG-06. He simply spun on his heel, and leveled his weapon up at Kelios. He cast a short look over at King, a simple nod of the head to indicate his confusion, and sighed. Was this another one of the Jedi?

"Capital." He quipped. The generator was not far. They only needed to finish their final objective, and this war was done. Anytime wasted on this beast only served to hinder them. "Go find him there. We have an operation to finish, Jedi." Book added loudly; authority clear in his voice.



[member="Riley King"] [member="Kelios Shara-da"]

 

[Kelios Shara-da]

Kelios' ears flicked under his mane at the sounds of clicking rifles and agitated responses he had garnered from the troops. Then he looked up as he sensed more suffering, it seemed a gas cloud was starting to overtake the city. It threatened civilian and soldier alike. It was a clear danger. It had to be halted in its steps. Kelios took a step forward and dropped from the roof, using the Force to soften his drop, though he still kept his hands up submissively to the troops.

"That chemical weapon is a threat and must be stopped. I would like help accomplishing such a feat, as you are in danger from it too." He had no idea that his objective coincided with theirs, nor the fact that that their helmets protected them from it.

[member="Book"] [member="Riley King"]

 

[The Dark Man]

The young initiate spoke, "Well, I must say Marcus Rann is my name, last living descendant of Ghosh Rann hailing from the outskirts of Haruun Kal, and you are?"
"I have no name," The Dark Man answered in earnest. Marcus fell in behind him, alongside Mo Ye. Fireteam Zulu began to backpedal out of the abandoned temple and towards the alleys they had come from. Artillery shells fell from the sky like a metal rain shower, each droplet packed with a tonne of HE-spewing divine intervention. The bridge in front of them exploded, tearing into a thousand pieces of shrapnel that burst in all directions. The Dark Man stood adamant, gripping the hem of his cloak and pulling it in front of him, making sure to stand in the way of Marcus and Mo Ye. The explosion encapsulated him, but he remained unharmed. In that moment, he had quickly enhanced his cloak with the Force, much like one does with a quarterstaff so that it is capable of withstanding a blow from a lightsaber. He released the fabric, and it dangled down at his sides once more. A call came in from Graxin Rade, Fireteam Zulu laid down suppressing fire. "I've made contact, Ekul. I saw anti-air cannons a block to the west of the capital building on my way in. They'll tear the Ge'hutuun to shreds once those shields are down. I'm counting on you to take care of it."
"I'm on it," The Dark Man replied, tapping his commlink at his right earlobe.


When he turned to look for Marcus, he was gone. Moved on for his own crusade, until Commander May nodded in his direction, "Sir, he got called behind enemy lines." He quickly ducked as a salvo of particle beams scorched the air above his head where he had been standing only two seconds ago, "We've got to take out their A-A emplacements before our sky-boys get blasted to hell." The Dark Man nodded, looking to Mo Ye and indicating for him to follow. He gathered his robes about him, as dark as midnight, and moved stealthily through the rain. The bridge was down, but that didn't stop a Jedi. He moved with haste, breaking into a sprint as he reached it and leapt the distance, looking far down below to see the great drop. He came to the other side with a thud, landing heavily, simultaneously igniting the short, thin golden blade of his lightsaber. It roared with an electronic growl, casting a yellowish tint on the helmets of the loyalists nearby. The Dark Man became a living, martial hurricane, his body moving in two and three directions at once, joints flexing, unlimited by the Force. Who he touched went down. And those who went down, stayed down. In a matter of seconds, it was all over. Not one loyalist had received a fatal wound, but all lay unconscious or in too severe of pain to move; incapacitated.

[member="Mo Ye"]
[member="Marcus Rann"]
[member="Graxin Rade"]

 

[Rexus Drath]

[member="Kelios Shara-da"] [member="Riley King"]

Gathering in his will, the muscles that allowed him to use the force were already sore and weak. But the gas was coming towards the hotel with all the wounded in it. He could not allow their deaths nor could he allow the innocent civilians inside of it to die. "Go." Rexus said softly before clasping his hands together. Taking more and more of his will and channeling it into his hands he placed both of his palms outwards and focused. "This is going to suck." Rexus was not much of a physical force person, working things like barriers was not his forte but he didn't have any other choice. The force flowed through him and white light shined through his palms and cast a light forward.

He thought of everything he loved and wanted to protect, his friends, family, and even though they were all dead he felt that want and need to protect those who he cared for. A thin barrier snapped with silent energy covering the hotel lobby in a thin veil of energy that he had to sustain until the gas passed over them. His muscles ached and his bones creaked with pain from the force he exerted outwards. He was reaching his limit and he would either die or succeed.

 

[Oddball]

Oddball spat water out from his mouth like a mister and snapped his helmet back on at the sign of gas coming down the street. The suit pressurized and the filters were in place. "Ma'am!" He said yelling to miss [member="Riley King"]. Grabbing his Z-6 he dove out the window before the barrier could snap up and found himself on the streets that were beginning to pile up with the dead. By the spuds of things the loyalists were prepared for the gas, he could here them move through the yellow fog unhindered by the poison. "YOU BLOODY BASTARDS!! COWARDS!!" Rage was on the mind of Oddball, rage that innocent people were being gassed in their homes. Whoever was responsible oddball would take great pleasure in watching them fry.

Moving up to his commander the young sergeant spoke with a firm voice. "Ma'am, we need to move. Enemy forces will be upon us and we need to hit the generator or hold our position to safeguard the wounded. But you need to make a choice now." Oddball would go left it he would go right, he was a soldier and as long as he had his orders then he would follow them to the letter. That massive cat person though was just sort of hanging out though. Oddball looked at [member="Kelios Shara-da"] and quickly looked back at his commander for orders

 

[The Upright Man]

Location: Near Capital
Allies: Fireteam Zulu, The Dark Man, Marcus Rann
Enemies: Ession Loyalists
Objective: Take out A-A Guns
Equipment: (1) Lightsaber
Theme: Iron


Mo Ye hurriedly walked behind Fireteam Zulu and his Master, and now with the newly accompanied Jedi. He could swear The Dark Man and Marcus Rann were relatives, maybe even father and son, or perhaps it was just his mind finding it hard to differentiate two humans. They all looked alike, he thought. When the bridge exploded, he almost shouted in fright, and moved to dive for cover with the rest of Fireteam Zulu, all the while his Master took the explosion head-on and came out unscathed. He was mesmerised, but knew this was not the time. He activated his lightsaber with an explosion of a green plasma rod. It was half the length of a traditional lightsaber due to his height, but his dexterity and agility made up for it. He followed his Master, leaping across the demolished bridge with ease, but by the time he had landed, his Master had already disposed of the loyalists. Mo Ye deactivated his blade, resuming his hands into the folds of his robes.


[member="The Dark Man"] [member="Marcus Rann"]

 

[The Dark Man]

The Dark Man deactivated his blade, clutching it in whitened knuckles, breathing heavily from exertion. Lines of sweat dripped down his forehead and soaked itself in his grey beard, what little drops fell fell onto the hard, cold and unforgiving ground. He slapped his hilt onto his belt, eyes danced upon the fire escape ladder now to his right. He bent his knees and sprung. The Force swelled under him, and launched him high into the air as though he had leapt from a building onto a trampoline. Arms and legs flailed instinctively to grasp something. Crnk! he hit the ladder, and quickly he curled his hands around the poles, feet dangling as he hung there. Ekul took no time, he didn’t have the opportunity to wait. He began to climb, scaling up the ladder with the speed of an arachnid. Having spent seven months evading Sith patrols and inquisitors in the underworld as they tracked his every movement, he learnt how to get around on the streets, how to evade and how to hide. Ekul began to reach the top of the fire escape.

Total concentration was required if he was to survive this night. Ekul sunk himself into the warm water of the Force. It soothed him, calmed him, it lent energy to his tired muscles and sharpened his senses. Despite his momentary victory in the alley below, he knew this battle was far from won. He had no compunctions about running; the Jedi teachings stressed practicality over bravery. He raced to the opposite edge of the residential apartment, a great distance separated him from another building, where a street below caused a ravine. He did not hesitate. He continued to run, and then broke into a break-neck sprint. He made a subtle gesture, the Force became a geyser, raising him up through the air, and such the Force then became a rapid, washing him downwards in an invisible cascade that carried him onto the other roof.

He slammed onto the building, hard. He almost lost his footing before collecting his stance. Now was not a time to fall backwards, and over the ledge. Ekul though he would make a poor bug splattering on the sidewalk either way. He withdrew the hilt of his lightsaber from out of his darkened robes, igniting the golden blade with the growl of a dragon. He spun his body in a circular motion, snapping his blade down vertically, cutting a spherical piece of ferrocrete out of the roof. He fell into the building, the Force gently easing him down where the roof had slammed into one of the floors of the building. He looked around, and it appeared to be an office. Species as numerous as the planets themselves stood from their cubicles, all staring and gob-smacked, mouths wide in surprise. Somehow, The Dark Man felt self-concious as they all stared at the homeless-looking-Jedi. With no time to waste, he began to jog past the workers, lightsaber swinging at his side. He charged for an open window on the east side, and dove. He had to make his movements so erratic and so unpredictable that the loyalists could track him. He came into a roll onto the street, the Force smothering him in a protective cocoon. He craned his neck, seeing if Mo Ye had managed to keep up.

[member="Mo Ye"]

 

[The Upright Man]

Location: Near Capital
Allies: Fireteam Zulu, The Dark Man, Marcus Rann
Enemies: Ession Loyalists
Objective: Take out A-A Guns
Equipment: (1) Lightsaber
Theme: Iron


Mo Ye watched with wide-eyed curiosity as his master bounced from the ground and high onto a fire-escape ladder. He didn't dare do the same thing, he jogged to the metal rungs and began to ascend. Only to find that by the time he reached the rooftop, his master was leaping onto another building. He pushed himself to catch up, and making sure he didn't trip over in his robes. He placed his deactivated hilt away into the folds of his robes, took a deal gulp of air and leaped. The air brushed against his cheeks with a bitter cold, and when he landed, he landed a bit further than his master had. A bit more buoyant perhaps. He dived for the hole in the building, and came crashing down into the office. He wondered for a moment how they would all react seeing him. "Sorry to intrude, Jedi business," he announced, running for the window and hopping out onto the street below. When he landed, he pointed with a taloned finger to a blockade in the street, loyalists in riot gear manned the small forticades. "There they're, what's the plan?"


[member="The Dark Man"]

 

[The Dark Man]

The Dark Man curled a smile upon his lips, raising his brows slightly that his apprentice managed to catch up. He swept his gaze to look upon the fortifications the loyalists had assembled, they were meagre at best, but heavily numbered. "Radio in Fireteam Zulu, have them suppress fire from those rooftops," he said, pointing towards a grocery story and clothes retailer. They were squat buildings, only four stories high. That being in comparison to the other buildings, some towering in the hundreds of stories. "I need you to distract them, remember your training on your bladework. Soresu will be your biggest ally. Keep them busy, don't get too close." He began to move for the footpath, "I'll take out those guns." He walked into the nearest store, and turned left towards the wall - facing the same direction as the emplacements. He began to walk forward, moving the matter within his own body to allow him to seemingly walk through the wall, emerging on the other side of a different building. He looked around, it was a chemist, and looking out the window, he was now past the barricades that separated them. This should do, he thought, flicking his hilt into his hand and activating the blade with a snap-hiss and hum, the golden plasma lighting the room in its sun-like radiance.

[member="Mo Ye"]

 

[Marcus Rann]

Marcus leapt up over the tops of different buildings, and yet to be seen by the filthy loyalists. Meanwhile, the two Jedi have been trapped on the ray shields leading to a control room right, and each one of them had their own opponents, also wielding sabres with variant colours like off the two. How funny is it because - the dictator of Ession was there, with beams of green right across the hilt of his blade, although it is obvious that he can not fight, and is neither a force-sensitive. On the other beam was a Wookie, may be a burly Wookie, who is also not a force-sensitive.

The initiate's eyes flick over the duelists, peering at them while they joust to each other. At least three Ession loyalists advance to the ray beams, aiming at the two Jedi to open fire on them. Quickly the rook got his head down and crawled into vents and ducts, then produces a distraction, making the men confused of what is happening. Fortunately, the young rookie jumped near the breastwork of the room, then ambushes them with surprise as he produces his hilt, then shoves a loyalist right to the chin ; then thrusting his fist right to the stomach and hoofed around him. Although it looks like Marcus is overpowering the men, he failed to dodge a swap right to the face from one of the henchmen, and bleeds right to his chin. " You know, I hate to say this, but you guys are real bastards. " as he activates the switch of his hilt, producing a bright beam with a colour like off a amethyst
" Real, real bastards... "

and then starts his position on a the Way of a Hawk-Bat, or so-called Ataru, as his adversaries look so troubled, but still manages to keep their fright. It will be then, soon...

 

[DARKCOM]

The Jedi Padawan stood over in front of his now disarmed opponent with his chest swelled full of pride, he held his lightsaber outward in the direction of the Lord of Ession and in a deep tone gave him an ultimatum, "Surrender or fall, you have lost." Perhaps it was overconfidence on his part for disarming his foe or simply a chance to reason with him, it did not matter whatever was running through the apprentice's mind kept him from paying attention to what was to come next.

Kaigann ignored the Dictator's empty threats and stood firm, it wasn't until the surprise burst of Force Lightning from the fingertips of Jo-Shal took him by surprise did he re-evaluate the enemy. Force Lightning, a move commonly employed by Dark Jedi and Sith yet he personally had never had experience against it's wrath. Kaigann was totally unprepared for the enemy's sudden display of power even if it was on a weaker scale. Taken surprise by the bolts of lightning, Kaigann cried in agony as steam rolled off of his skin bringing him to his knees as the bolts coursed through his body.

The apprentice dug deep inside as he rose his lightsaber slowly into the trajectory of the lightning to absorb it's blow into his lightsaber. Breathing in and out, in and out, he molded the Force into a barrier in case one of the stray bolts hit him. Although it was still weak it would due as extra protection as he rose to his feet on approach to the Duros. Utilizing his lightsaber to deflect the lightning the padawan moved in to engage his foe in close combat and finish what he had started. Reaching out with his free hand the Jedi grunted in pain as he called upon his foe's lightsaber through the Force. If successful he would throw the lightsaber and attempt to guide it through the Force back to it's owner in an attempt to bisect him with his own blade.


[member="Jo-Shal"]

 

[Marcus Rann]

Enraged, Marcus jumped up and struggled with one of the henchmen and manages to cover himself from open fire as the loyalists blast right after the newly-anointed apprentice. He was in debt of conflict, both on mental and physical , which would result himself either becoming a dead man, or to have a lion heart himself. Marcus was always a competitive man, although he has a deep thought that he can not discuss for his personal sake. The self-named adjudicator clenched his fists on calm breathing , in spite of the fact that he was really stressed of his life bout , as he clicks up on his head and clucks his bald head in a sideways motion. He had his chin covered in dust, with drops of red exerting from his mouth. The loyalists threw words upon him as they aim right to Marcus's barricade " Jedi scum, get our of there so we could get this done by allowing us to blow your head right off. " as the laughter came cackling right after Marcus got out of his seemingly only defense, as he hands his blade right to his right shoulder and rose with grace upon his seating , revealing signs of meditation as he closes his eyes for a split-second, then pounce the lightsabre of his with swiftness by his side, with a particular stoic fashion across his face.


" Never ... ever ... mumble ... to ME! " as the now-confident initiate drew his blade between two loyalists, and manages to struck down and disarm a rifle of one, and in a swaying mode , gives an ankle to a much-younger officer that taunted him earlier. As the officer lays down by his stomach , with malady bringing him down, two more officers tried to conflict the young apprentice's strength, with both scoring hits near the stomach. Marcus stood his way up and felt bruises covering his body, but had his mind attuning over the nature of the Force , causing him to mask his misery from a bleeding wound he had received at the dawn of the self-perceived brawl. One of the men tries to underestimate Marcus, but the young rook was clever enough to step aside and leaves him a chance to cleave the loyalist from down to up , which he had did, causing the man to scream in agony, which would then make the last one anxious over the situation, where at the distance the fearful loyalist will be shot by a Peacekeeper unit.

" Worst lose to lose situation for the dumb Dictator, check, pfft. " Marcus advances to the energy rays to catch up with his two overwhelmed comrades and sees them doing the opposite of his opinions without assistance.

Kaigann Fossk Graxin Rade

 

[Placeholder 0123]

There was an unfamiliar presence approaching. Graxin did not shift his focus from the wookie, not even for a moment, but he did call out. "If you'd lower the ray shields for us, my friend, I'll buy you dinner." The Knight then spring to his feet. The wookie, desperate, lunged forward in a sloppy imitation of Kaigann's own fighting style. The blade arced downward in a heavy swing to cleave Graxin from shoulder to hip. Rather than defend against the strike, Graxin simply thrust his hands forward.

A wave of telekinetic energy flew forth from his fingertips. His foe gave a surprised growl as the wave hit him. The sheer force of the attack sent the wookie flying back into the ray shield. The shields sent seizure inducing shocks through the wookie. The Dark Adept twitched and screamed as the Ray shields seared his body, and they would have killed him had Graxin not yanked him away. The wookie slumped forward, unconscious. Graxin breathed a heavy sigh, and turned toward his Padawan and his foe

There was nothing he could do beyond the shield. Rather, he sat down in the center of his little compartment. His eyes closed, and he allowed his presence to spread to Kaigann. He used the force to revitalize the boy, and at the same time, make the battle seem futile to Jo-shal. It was a meger form of battle meditation, but one that worked quite well in close combat.

[member="Marcus Rann"] [member="Kaigann Fossk"]

 

[Placeholder 08]

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Jo-shal was no master of the Dark Arts. His skills were, as said before, meager at best. The force came to him whenever it chose to; an occasional drizzle compared to the constant thunderstorm of Graxin, or perhaps Kaigann. At the moment though, that storm raged. Lightning poured from his fingertips with ease, catching on Kaigann's lightsaber and arcing outward. Stray bolts would sear against the Padawan's barrier, and perhaps his flesh. The expulsion of power was so monstrous that it even Jo-shal was not safe from its wrath. The blue bolts coursed through his wrinkled skin and jarred his old bones.​

​

His eyes rolled back into his head, but the lightning continued to flow through him, the Dark Side using him as a tool rather than one that commanded it. Jo-shal simply was not powerful enough to truly wield its great power. The merciless stream of energy only ended when Jo-shal's own lightsaber arced toward him. It seared the air, came downward, and lopped his head from his shoulders before skidding off the floor behind him. The head tumbled to the ground before the body did, no blood coming from the cauterized hole in his neck.​

​

Jo-shal, the dictator of Ession, the political tyrant, and the cause of so much suffering, was now dead at Kaigann's hand.​

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[member="Graxin Rade"] [member="Marcus Rann"] [member="Kaigann Fossk"]​

 

[DARKCOM]

It was over. The merciless onslaught of Force Lightning created by Jo-Shal had ended with the beheading of the Lord of Ession at the hands of Kaigann himself. He had felt empowered during his fight with the foe, he felt the presence of his master as he turned his head to gaze at his friend and tutor. Kaigann exhaled, the lightning had caused him a pain he had never endured even if it was a weaker version, this was the destructive power of the Dark Side, and now for the first time he had witnessed it first hand.

Gripping his side the apprentice moved over toward the fallen dictator's corpse, he gazed at the headless foe and slowly lowered himself to grasp ahold of the former Lord of Ession's lightsaber. Retrieving the lightsaber he slid the blade into his robe and along with his own after deactivating the blue blade with a sharp hiss emitting from the blade after being returned to it's source. Kaigann faked a smile towards the others, hardly happy over the fool's choice to let himself die. A waste, he could of simply surrendered.

Kaigann jested, "I feel like a bird trapped in it's cage... I'll second that if you get us out of here."

They had successfully cut the head off of the Loyalist Movement, without their leader they would eventually lose their purpose and fall to the Ession Reformation and rebel forces. There was much still to be done, the apprentice made one final glance at the dictator before turning his attention toward his comrades as he awaited the ray shields deactivation.


[member="Graxin Rade"]
[member="Marcus Rann"]

 

[Darth Metus]

Location: Approaching the Shield Generators
Objective: Make it Go Boom

The Providence of the Force was such an enigma, yet the Jedi did not question its will. Since the days of his youth, Josiah had followed its ebb and flow; allowing it to guide him where he needed to be. At times, the Force would guide him into the arms of those who would become mentors, comrades, and loved ones...while on other occasions, it would lead him to the Frontlines of War. Through it all, the Jedi held fast to the Light and allowed it to be the beacon of his life. Never once would the darkness cloud his judgment or claim his soul...

...and now it seemed that he was not alone.

For too long had the Republic waved with its resolve whilst the Order fumbled to discover its identity. They, the self-proclaimed guardians of the Galaxy, had failed in the very task they claimed to hold dear. Atrocities were committed by their hands...and at the end of the day, the Darkness still existed. The Light existed to snuff out the black, yet those of the Republic failed to eliminate the very shadow which claimed Coruscant. What's more, a schism resulted in sects of jedi being created. Some sought to serve the Light in peace...yet none held the resolve to boldly eliminate the Dark and bring Order to the Galaxy...Until now.

The Force beckoned and Josiah obeyed. Ession would be the spark through which change would be ushered. Through the depths of hyperspace to the surface of the world itself, the Jedi traveled; trusting wholly in the Force along the way. What greeted him upon arrival was the exposition to a conflict that would consume the entire planet. Forces arrived from Hyperspace, planetary shielding arose, and the battle for Ession began. Josiah felt that this was the cause he was to champion...and as such he began to support the offensive. Numerous battles waged on behalf of the Republic, Confederacy, and Imperium had afforded him experience enough to prioritize targets.

The shields had to come down.

"This is Josiah Denko," began the Jedi upon his comm. "I am moving to the Shield Generators to assist." With this said, Josiah lowered himself to a crouch. Concentration characterized his mind, thereby shutting out the chaos erupting about him. With fervor, he commanded the Force to do his bidding; calling down its presence to fill him to the very core. Like a mighty cascade, the Force answered...and the power surged forth about the whole of his being. A grunt escaped the Jedi as he wielded this power in the manner that he had honed for so long, telekinetically hurling himself into the Heavens.

It's a bird.
It's a plane.
It's...a Jedi.