Long ago Aten Ramses had only dreamed of being a Jedi, he'd been nothing but a Padawan when the Galactic Alliance fell. Even years later he could remember the carnage, the destruction that came at the hands of the Sith on Coruscant. The lives lost, the few he'd managed to save. Even then he'd continued on seeing the fall of more Jedi in the face of darkness. Yet all it takes is a candle to hold the darkness at Bay. Having fought numerous sith, Aten had thought of himself as that light. But one Jedi alone couldn't fight all the Sith so despite his hesitance the man would place his trust in the Silver Jedi this time. Though of course not without testing them first, or at least one of the more distinguished members of the Order.
Standing at the center of the training amphitheater in Silver Rest, Aten looked around and up to the viewports that sat above wondering just how many others were going to view the duel that would soon take place. What were the thoughts of the eyes hiding behind the tinted transparisteel? Was he an anomaly? Or did some despise him for not joining with their number sooner? As a Padawan, the Morellian was skin to the Silver Jedi in many ways preferring to not battle others, yet was thrust into them. that young man was gone, replaced by a hardened veteran. He even remembered hearing about the one he'd challenged back when Commenor fell. Asaraa, hopefully she wouldn't disappoint. On that day he'd been dealing with the Sith Lord, Mythos. The day that his exile had officially begun when he'd failed to stop the man's betrayal. There were few in the galaxy that Aten held a deep-seated hatred for. Mythos was one of those unfortunate enough to be counted in that number.
Dressed in his combat clothes the Jedi began to strip in the full view of everyone while awaiting his opponent. The golden jacket tossed aside where it hit the ground with a solid thump kicking up dust. Following it was the black shirt that did the same revealing the muscular, and heavily scarred torso of the Morellian. Some from Sith, others from bounty hunters, most from his training with the Morgukai. Where an organic right arm and shoulder used to be there was now a cybernetic that went down to the gauntlet covered fists. In a swift motion, the Jedi jumped his legs coming up, his pants falling to the ground. When his legs straightened once more Aten stood there in just a pair of training shorts. The cool air washed over his body, and he stood there unfazed.
In more ways than one, this was a statement. He was showing himself as not fearing pain, as well as it being an open challenge for the Asaraa to wound him while he was unarmored. The gauntlets being there to make the engagement fair for Aten since he so rarely used his saber that now lay beneath the pile of clothes. From it, the Jedi could still feel the presence of the weapon he named Kol after his first master. The force flowed openly between him and the Crystal within the hilt soothing energy radiating from it and into the Morellian.
Here the Jedi who once hated to fight stood, anticipation filling his very being. Romi Jade and the Morgukai had turned him into a lover of battle. A darkness that the Morellian fought every day, but also harnessed to his own benefit. "Let her in, I couldn't be more ready" Aten called up to the viewports to be answered by a hiss and the door on the other side of the chamber.