Out there, we've walked quite friendly up to Death,-
Sat down and eaten with him, cool and bland,-
Pardoned his spilling mess-tins in our hand.
We've sniffed the green thick odour of his breath,-
Our eyes wept, but our courage didn't writhe.
He's spat at us with bullets and he's coughed
Shrapnel. We chorussed when he sang aloft,
We whistled while he shaved us with his scythe.
The speeder hurled Ekul Selah across the street, lifting him up and over the bonnet of the vehicle. The elderly man slammed down in the back seat, cushioned by leather and feather. A Gan piloting the vehicle spun around in his seat and began shrieking at the sight of the Jedi. He had not anticipated Ekul running onto the street and becoming launched by a passing speeder. The only thing that had saved him a caved-chest was the bubble of cosmic energies surrounding him as he rolled onto the street. The Jedi gathered his senses, shaking his head to dispel the nausea that washed over him. His vision blurred then began to relax and focus, swirling colours became distinguishable shadows and then finally took form. He tossed an arm over the headrest and raised himself onto his bottom, looking around in bewilderment. It felt like only a second ago he had been running for a Sith Lord, a Knight and three Acolytes, now he was alone. Albeit for a terrified Gan still erratically swerving through traffic — as though that would get rid of Ekul. The Jedi got the message, and he had not intended to land in the back of the speeder. He leaned over the centre console, reaching for the handbrake and slamming it down. The repulsorlifts reversed and screeched to come to a halt. The Gan and the Human swung forward.
As the speeder stopped in the midst of a lane of speeders, the honking of horns was the least of their worries. Ekul Selah, without further word to the Gan, gripped the edge of the individuals speeder and propelled himself off the levitating vehicle. He came to a slam on the street twelve feet below, ducking into a roll and coming up onto his feet. His dark robes billowed around him, flapping furiously in the strong winds. His eyes danced around, looking for any indication of the Sith, but with them not in sight, he closed his eyes and relinquished himself into the force. Everyone experienced the Force in different ways. For some it was like a storm in which they were the cynosure, secure in its calm eye while commanding its tempests. For others it was a fog, a mist, the vaporous tendrils of which could be manipulated, or incandescence with which to illuminate or inflame. These were inadequate approximations, feeble attempts to describe, in terms of the five ordinary senses, that which was indescribable. For Ekul, the Force was a cool beach, controlling the ebb and flow. A calm tide could turn into a ferocious crashing wave at his will. He reached out, the invisible water soaking into every nook and cranny it could find, searching for his enemies. They were gone, far gone.
Oh, Death was never enemy of ours!
We laughed at him, we leagued with him, old chum.
No soldier's paid to kick against His powers.
We laughed, -knowing that better men would come,
And greater wars: when each proud fighter brags
He wars on Death, for lives; not men, for flags.
His mind raced with his options of survival. He quickly evaluated and came to the decision that he would need to go to the palace. Finally off Coruscant, his only hope of reconnecting with the Jedi Order was through the noble family. Seven months, he wondered if they would believe the homeless-looking elderly man was telling the truth. He turned and twisted, looking for a means of travel. His eyes spied a lonesome air bike, and memories flooded his mind of a time where the world was simple, and he much more innocent. He swept his cloak of darkness around him and moved for the bike, throwing a leg over the seat and taking himself into position. Though he did not have the key, he waved his hands, the cosmic energies trickling into the bike. The engine roared to life. His hands played with the throttle and off he shoot, racing down the street past speeders and podsters. He glanced to his right and beheld a sight more horrible. The Sith had brought their playthings. His stomach knotted, knowing there would be much death this night, but chose to resolve himself to courage in its most simple form.
The Palace was heavily guarded and on high alert, though corpses of guards were strewn across the courtyard as a fierce battle had broken out moments ago. He watched on ramparts and in towers a contest of survival between Sith and the Royal Guard. Ekul pedalled into the foyer of the palace, diving through corridors and hallways, searching for those still alive. At last he entered a room, of which held a fight between an unknown assailant and what he instinctively recognised as a Jedi. His heart soared and swelled with hope. The second Jedi he had seen in seven months, now he had to save him from dying — Ekul still blamed himself for the death of Talia. If he had acted, maybe she could have been saved. He shot out a hand, a vicious wave of invisible water cascaded out through the Force, looking to strike Cerean full-force.
{ [member="Kian Karr"] | [member="Ceran Moerelle"] }
