ALLIES: Republic - [member="Cree Oyaya"], [member="Aedan Miles"] | Silver Order - [member="Rasu Gan"], [member=Saki], [member="Lok Jorunn"]
ENEMIES: One Sith - [member="Maya Whitelight"]
OBJECTIVE: Stop Maya
Putting Down A Bad Dog . . .
His legs began to slow. He had maintained his breathing but all the fighting had taken a toll on him. He felt as though his muscles were aflame. Nautolans, renown for their great strength and everlasting endurance, but right now, Hasjo was feeling the burn. He could see Saki and Maya upon a platform, midway through a shouting match. He slowed - regardless if he had successfully carried Lok Jorrun, in which case he would have placed him down in relative safety, behind secured lines -, coming to a halt. He heard a deep rumbling as the war cries of thousands echoed through the city, but were washed out by bombardment of artillery and warships. Hired thugs and goons working for the One Sith began storming the streets with whatever weapons they could find. He saw past their deceptive lies. They weren't citizens, but gangsters looking for a quick credit. Empress Teta had long been for thousands of years and countless generations, supporters of the Republic. A several month long occupation of the planet couldn't reverse the culture of an entire people, it would take decades, if not centuries for such a thing to occur in a people so proud of their heritage.
Commander Josef May of the Sixth Battalion stepped forward. A medical team stepped forward, harrying Hasjo to an occupied building. Entering through the devastated doorway, dust and rubble had coated the lobby of the hotel. Sith and their troopers were piled into a corner, whilst Republic and Sixth Battalion forces were in another. Some marines knelt beside some children, comforting them from the horrors. The One Sith had taken their homes by force. They had taken so many worlds. They dared to use deception to have the Republic believe the people of Empress Teta no longer wanted them. The saddest part was that some of the Sith truly believed they were the good ones. The Dark Side corrupts, for millennium countless this had been known. This was the truth. However much the Sith tried to bend and twist history, there were millions upon billions of records stating otherwise. The Sith couldn't rewrite all the history books.
He reached out, feeling for Maya. He knew how the Sith had twisted her mind. They had sent her to the breaking point. The difference about the Jedi and Sith, the most basic fundamental aspect that differentiated them. The Jedi relied on honesty, compassion, mercy, self-sacrifice, and other positive emotions. The Sith drew power from drew power from anger, rage, hatred, fear, aggression, and passion. Negative emotions that clouded the mind, that corrupted. He felt those raw emotions in Maya, he became concerned for her. He didn't allow fear to rule his thoughts. Even among the chaos, he was able to meditate. He recalled history. Again and again the dark side has surged forth, like a storm, devouring whole worlds and entire star systems. The Sith unleashed destruction, for no other reason than for selfish gain. They despoiled nations, destroyed whole civilisations. He couldn't just stand here and allow the beautiful, loving Maya he knew fall into a woman of such wretched calibre.
In a flurry he fled from the lobby. He was encased by his own harmony. Waves of compassion flooded him as hurricanes of mercy struck every stretch of his being. He was not doing this for himself. He was doing this for the person Maya had once been, and for her son. No child should know their parent had become such a person. It was too late to save Maya. He would not stand idly by whilst she continued to fall into a pit of darkness. He was confronted by the platform, knowing the former aggressive discussion had turned into conflict. Saki couldn't be the one to do this. He felt a form of responsibility for Maya. He had been a padawan with her, travelled the galaxy and saved lives with her. It had to be him. Something swelled in the pit of his stomach as oxygen filled his lungs. His twin hearts beat in rhythm like war drums. He released a primal roar. Warning the two he was coming for her. His heavy boots thudded against the pavement as he stormed onwards. Hasjo launched himself against the platform, hands and feet clenching onto outcroppings. He felt as though he were weighted down by an anchor, but his determination all but drowned out the struggle. He thought only of one thing. Inch by inch, he was pulling himself up.
