Once a Teacher, always a Teacher [Dei's Training]

[Jiang Winters]

The trip to District I014 was short, sweet, and uneventful in every way. The speeder Dei and Samanya took dropped them off just a couple blocks from their target before fleeing back to the Temple - the pilot didn't want to hang around in case the bolts started flying. The streets were dirty, dusty, and mostly empty. A few haggard-looking vagabonds wandered through every now and then, but other than the less-than-fortunate of the locals, the area was quite deserted. The distant din of industrial plants filled the air, reminding Sam that they were near an industrial area.

She clipped her helmet into place. The seals hissed and popped, circuitry connected, and her HUD sparked to life. With her face -and most of her facial structure- concealed by the slightly elongated helmet and her tail coiled around her waist within her armor, her gender and species were both concealed. The feline turned her head to Dei, both lenses of her helm glowing a faint blue. "Right; the front door is two blocks ahead. Large gray structure on the left. You want to go first, or shall I breach?" she queried as she began to trot along towards the structure.

 

[Andreus Makaryk]

"Nice neighborhood," Dei remarked sarcastically. He, had, of course seen slightly worse on his home planet of Onderon, but the Coruscant undercity nevertheless failed to impress as a beacon of peace and prosperity. Despair hung in the air; the locals most certainly knew that the overlords who lived a few hundred to a few thousand feet above them certainly did not care about them. The Republic politicians seemed more than content to simply skim off the top of galactic wealth, while neglecting to fund the various social institutions that would normally be required for the seat of galactic power. Social institutions such as schools for the masses below them. Police existed mostly by mercenary contract. Fire service existed only to the extent necessary to prevent a fire in the lower levels from reaching the wealthier upper levels. As a result, the two Jedi passed by several burnt-out neighborhoods along the way. The fires hadn't been put out; they had consumed all available oxygen as they flashed over, and then extinguished themselves. Some of the horrific deaths, the screams, remained fresh in the Force.

The Jedi were supposed to defend innocent life, and the Republic. However, the two mandates sometimes seemed mutually exclusive. When they did, Dei became characteristically cynical, and his voice scowled as if scolding Sheng for his laziness.

"Well, it's always nice to know that senators fund necessary social infrastructure in their backyard."

Of course, Dei could not count on police to arrest those taken alive, much less rehabilitate them through the courts. The courts only concerned themselves with disputes amongst those who had the funds to pay lawyers; they could not be bothered with low-class criminals such as resided here. Unfortunately, this presented the Jedi with three stark choices: Kill everyone, abort the mission and eventually let the criminals kill themselves, or try to take everyone into Jedi custody, and let the Jedi rehabilitate the criminals. Given the logistical constraints of two padawans controlling fifty or so arrestees, it was fairly easy to see why Sam might favor a "Kill all who shoot" policy. Dei, on the other hand, at least wanted to run those who surrendered and/or were innocent of or forced under duress into wrongdoing through the Jedi for placement or rehabilitation, as the case may be. The Republic certainly didn't care.

"Yeah, I see it. You make a smaller target, and you have more armor than I to boot."

Dei had had the chance to put on a second suit of full armor, like the Cathar, but he was substantially taller, and therefore the armor Sam had available was too small for him. Additionally, unlike Sam, Dei was unaccustomed to wearing heavy armor, as surgeons had little use for it, and some of his own abilities relied upon agility that such armor would doubtlessly negate. He would be slower to deflect blaster shots with his lightsaber, slower in hand-to-hand combat, slower to aim the blaster he had brought with him, slower to throw scalpels into enemies' arteries, and slower to do pretty much anything. Nevertheless, aware that he presented a large target, he did wear a chestplate and a helmet--but Sam was the far more armored of the two. "If you really want to, I can go first, but I'm not used to the armor, and I'm probably easier to hit."

Dei extended his Force senses inside, seeking to get a fix on the distribution of potential enemies within the building. Dei did not plan on relegating himself to uselessness simply because he might be easier to hit. His senses extended outward, as he watched for the mental flare-ups of surprise, and grabbing for the nearest guns, that would tend to distinguish combatant from non-combatant. Moreover, such senses might prove vital in detecting problematic chokepoints or ambushes that would require such shiny toys as grenades to clear. He thumbed his newly-built lightsaber in his dominant hand and his blaster in his secondary hand, prepared to efficiently dispense with any threats to him or Sam.

 

[Jiang Winters]

Sam didn't stick around for idle chit-chat once it was decided that she was to take point. The muscular Cathar sprinted ahead while removing her assault rifle from her back. She racked a round into the chamber as she approached the door. Thin durasteel, no lock. Sliding; designed to admit vehicles. Perfect.

With not a single ounce of subtlety, Samanya used the Force to slide the door open half a foot as she approached it. At the same time, she produced a flashbang grenade and pulled the pin using a tab built into the chestplate on her armor. She lobbed the hand grenade through the gap and into the entry room beyond; it detonated with a mighty crack of thunder and a blinding flash of white light. Any screams issued by the defenders were drowned out by the grenade's deafening blast.

She kicked open the door and moved in. There were six guards in the primary entrance, five of whom had been lounging in front of a holographic display, watching a thrashball game. Sam ignored them as they rolled around in their seats and on the floor; they weren't a threat. Yet. The sixth guard, who had been deafened but not blinded, loosed off a shout for help as he drew his pistol and aimed it at Samanya, only to swiftly receive three bullets to the sternum. The slugs tore through bone, ripped his heart to shreds, then tore through the back of his body. He slumped to the floor, dead.

The moment he hit the ground, all hell broke loose. Two doors - one on either side of the large entry area- flung open, and a host of thugs poured in, armed with everything from stun batons to blaster pistols. A hail of bolts went sailing haphazardly through the air, while the baton wielders rushed at Samanya and Dei. One group of melee combatants, three men strong, charged headlong at Dei, the leader poised to launch a powerful downward swing at Dei with the intent of bashing his skull in.

 

[Andreus Makaryk]

Dei shoved his blaster into its holster, for he did not expect it to do much good in these close quarters. Sam had ignored the five guards who were too busy watching some insignificant sporting event because they did not seem like an imminent threat, but they would be soon enough, when they got off their lazy asses. A blaster would do little good outnumbered at such close range; it simply could not fire fast enough. Dei's lightsaber ignited at a hundred forty centimeters; it would be much better for close-range work should the guards decide to get off their lazy, Sheng-like asses. However, Dei would be willing to entertain the possibility that they would not want to mess with lightsaber-wielding Jedi. The blade whirled about, to slag and steam the occasional slugthrower bolt that came close enough to Dei to threaten him.

However, it was not the five lazy guards closest to Dei who posed the most immediate threat. That honor went to the three melee combatants entering from stage left, who were silly enough to charge a Jedi igniting his lightsaber. However, the lightsaber itself remained busy weaving about a defense against the projectiles and blaster bolts that sailed haphazardly through the air. Dei's newly-free left hand blasted out, as he exerted telekinetic effort comparable to his little training exercise in sliding a three-ton rock. Dei had earlier slammed a five-hundred pound rock into the wall with ease. Now, he channeled that degree of energy at the three thugs, well before the errant batons could reach him, aiming to send the thugs flying backwards into the wall, the doorway, or both with somewhat-excessive force. If they slammed into the side of the doorway, Dei would have the added bonus of temporarily blocking that entrance to reinforcements.

 

[Jiang Winters]

The three guards -a pair of Rodians and a human- wailed in fear as they were plucked off their feet and flung backwards with massive force. They went flying right back into the arms of their comrades. The trio barreled through the guards in the doorway, flattening a few of their pals underneath and knocking the wind out of all involved in the wreck, not to mention the fact that the door was completely blocked for the moment.

Meanwhile, Samanya had opted to go the simple route. With a few short bursts of rifle fire, she had leveled the entire cluster of enemies attacking from her side of the room. They were sprawled across the floor in a variety of unnatural poses, with an even greater variety of unnatural holes punched through various parts of their anatomy. A handful of guards were groaning and clutching to their wounds as they bled to death; they were dispatched by quick shots to the head.

As she dealt with the remaining foes from her side of the room, the five guards in the center began to somewhat overcome the effects of the flashbang grenade. Producing blasters as they staggered to their feet, the group opened fire, loosing off volleys of somewhat accurate blaster bolts in Dei's general direction.

 

[Andreus Makaryk]

Dei, satisfied that the entrance on the left side of the room was clogged for now, and that Sam had the other side of the room, focused much of his attention on the five lazy guards that only now seemed to be getting off their lazy rear ends. They had decided to engage rather than simply continue watching their frivolous game, a move that might prove most unwise. Dei batted the scattered blaster bolts away, though being only a padawan, he had not refined his ability to redirect blaster fire where he willed. The blaster fire bounced into the ceiling instead, with a few exceptions of it splattering harmlessly into the wall.

However, Dei was at such close range that he didn't need to be precise in redirecting the blaster fire directed against him. He was close enough to the enemy to simply use his lightsaber in melee, a solution more efficient to begin with. The extended bluish-green blade whirled around, as Dei flicked it at the thugs' wrists. He aimed to slice their weapons away from them, though as a padawan, he could easily end up slicing them more generally as well, especially if there was any fault in his prediction of their movements. However, it wasn't like there was anyone around to take custody of the criminals anyway, and Sam sure didn't seem to care whether the thugs lived or died.

 

[Jiang Winters]

Dei's attempt at disarming the thugs was marginally successful; two guards found themselves clutching to the smoldering grips of their blasters, the rest of the weapon incinerated by the sudden stroke of the lightsaber. The other three were less fortunate; the saber completely missed one man's weapon and sliced through his bicep, severing his arm halfway between the elbow and shoulder. Another found his hand destroyed by the blade, and the last one fired just as the saber came close; in a stroke of exceedingly bad luck, the bolt had just the right deflection angle to bounce off the tip of the blade and strike the man inside his mouth. His head exploded and he slumped over, dead.

Samanya had just finished with her group. She glanced over at Dei, and motioned towards the door that was [still] clogged up by unconcious foes. "You go that way," she commanded. "I'll take this route. Don't get fancy; guys like this will swarm you if you try to take the time to disarm them," she cautioned before sprinting off and right into another firefight.

Meanwhile, a horde of enemies -six in number, armed with blaster pistols and a single repeating blaster- began to try to take cover in the corridor through which they thought Dei would have to advance; none of them anticipated Dei's possession of a lightsaber or the fact that he could very easily cut through all the walls and pop out behind them.

 

[Andreus Makaryk]

Dei did not have much time to survey the gruesome results of his handiwork screaming in pain and collapsing to the ground, at least not before more thugs started setting up that heavy repeating blaster. So, they weren't going to try to climb over the unconscious bodies, where Dei could leisurely pick them off. Instead, the thugs were digging in.

Dei could have cut through the walls, but unfortunately, such was a relatively painstaking process that would involve the thugs getting lots of warning by virtue of an elongating orange line of molten wall. Dei's blaster was not the best either, and the thugs could lay down a whole lot more suppressive fire through that clogged doorway than Dei could return. He swatted away random blaster fire with his lightsaber for a few seconds as he considered his options. Hmm...he could use the Force in combination with sharp implements to silence the blasters for a while...

Dei took a few steps off to the side, where the thugs would have some difficulty aiming at him, as he extended his own senses outward. He would need a fair bit of concentration for what he had in mind; fortunately, Sam was clearing the other room. With one hand on his lightsaber to swat away any stray fire that drifted too close to comfort, his other hand reached for the scalpels dangling from his utility belt. His senses focused on the blood circulation of the thug behind the heavy repeating blaster. No, he was not well-trained enough to stop the thug's internal organs from working, yet, but he had other ideas. Using much the same combination of Force Speed, telekinesis, and Force Valor he had used earlier in his training, he launched one of the scalpels, using telekinesis to try to direct it into the thug's thoracic artery to create a bloody mess with which to distract the thugs. Not easy, given he only had about a third of a second for the intended telekinetic redirection.

 

[Jiang Winters]

The swishing song of a blade arcing through the air filled the ears of the thugs. A glint of light, a blur of motion; a scalpel sailed down the hallway towards the gunner operating the repeating blaster. The weapon struck its target, slicing through improvised armor and cloth with ease. It dove into the soft flesh and sank into the man's body, the blade severing his artery in the most messy of fashions possible.

He screamed and slumped over. A spray of blood covered his gun and half of his buddy's face. One of the thugs abandoned his post and rushed over to the man. Thinking that he was helping, the thug tore the blade out of the man's chest. He screamed louder and spurts of blood quickly doused the good Samaritan's spirits, in addition to drastically shortening the man's lifespan. "Oh gods, oh **** me! Stop the bleeding, stop it, stop iiiiittt!" the victimized gunner wailed. His hands clutched frantically to his wound and his comrade tried to apply pressure, but as neither were medically experienced and both lacked any proper tools, the man was as good as dead.

The man's wails of pain and energetic flailing -which only served to direct arterial spray, well, everywhere- provided a severe distraction to the other guards, most of whom rushed to his aid while leaving only one man defending the entrance. With great enthusiasm, the man picked up a second blaster pistol and began loosing off bolt after bolt through the doorway while hollering and whooping defiantly at the Jedi, the 17-something Rodian apparently not understanding that Dei could kill him while blindfolded, handcuffed, and suspended upside-down in a pool of icy water filled with vicious octopuses possessing a taste for human flesh.

 

[Andreus Makaryk]

"You idiot, ripping the scalpel out only ripped up his artery even more." Dei rolled his eyes as his lightsaber lazily deflected more blaster bolts, this time only from one source. Meanwhile, the thug that continued to shoot in his general direction yelled all manner of nasty obscenities, seemingly taunting Dei to end his poor life right now. Dei was no Bogan, but he still found it relatively easy to tell that reasoning with this Rodian, informing him of how easily he could extinguish his life right now and all manner of gory ways in which he could do it, would fail. The Rodian definitely seemed disinterested in his own life. The others seemed far too distracted to do anything to Dei.

As Dei no longer had to evade oodles of suppressive fire (one blaster alone was adequately manageable with just the lightsaber), he had a far more direct shot at the Rodian. His free hand reached for another scalpel. If the Rodian was particularly smart, he would recognize the scalpel as a Sharp Pointy Object of the same general characteristics that had just severed his friend's artery, therefore spewing him with blood, and therefore decide to flee. However, it seemed more likely that he would just continue to stand there, stupidly and/or blindly continuing to pour blaster fire into Dei's lightsaber.

Assuming the Rodian just stood there, his eyes would record Dei winding up for another throw of the same general type that had his friend bleeding out now.

Dei launched the scalpel, again at the thoracic artery.

However, Dei still had no desire in particular to kill, and the first victim would still be alive for at least the next minute or so, if losing blood fast. Enough time to do an emergency suture if the thugs had a sudden change of heart--and he had chosen the thoracic artery again so the Rodian might live to see the same mercy, again assuming a change in heart amongst the thugs. To encourage such, Dei telekinetically summoned the loose blasters and other assorted weapons dropped by the thugs as they had rushed to the first victim's "aid," sending such weapons flying into the furthest corner he could find. With the gang disarmed, Dei now hoped the gang would be able to see reason, though he doubted it. If the Jedi could not make the thugs see reason, his lightsaber would prove most deadly at close range.

The Jedi stepped over the unconscious bodies into the next room. "Alright, you surrender, I can have the chance to fix up your friends here." Dei realized the words were most likely futile, as the gang probably was too enraged to consider rational opportunities out of the situation...but at least Dei would be able to report back he hadn't mindlessly slaughtered for the fun of it.

 

[Jiang Winters]

The Rodian, like his counterpart, screamed and flopped to the ground. With their comrades being stabbed into submission by telekinetically hurled stabby objects of sharpened doom, one would think that the thugs would drop the chest-beating macho act and admit that they were completely outclassed. However, as is typical of chest-pounding testosterone junkies, they didn't accept that defeat was the only logical outcome of continued resistance. They didn't even bother taking the slightly-less-intelligent option of fleeing like cats caught in the relentless barrage of a garden hose.

No, they just had to counterattack! Abandoning their injured friends, the remaining healthy thugs drew their knives and curled their hands into fists. They charged charged headlong at Dei, quite confident that there were too many of them for him to kill - how wrong they were! The corridor only served to funnel them directly at Dei, whilst removing their ability to flank him. They were, in a word, screwed.

 

[Andreus Makaryk]

Dei sighed, for he could not fix stupid. If there was any kind of reward for "so stupid so as to purge yourself from existence," this gang had just won it. He had done everything he could readily identify to leave the thugs a way out of the mess they had made for themselves, short of mass-mind tricks, which Dei simply lacked the knowledge or the skill to do. In this, he had more or less discharged his duty as a Jedi to attempt a peaceful resolution and avert needless bloodshed. The stupidity of the thugs in charging a Jedi, lit lightsaber in hand, screamed, "Gank me. Slice me into thirty-two thousand little pieces, NOW."

The brazen stupidity did not only scream "Execute me, please;" it demanded it. The exigencies of self-defense worked something like that.

Therefore, with no words but a heavy sigh, Dei allowed the gaggle of street urchins to foolishly charge him. They were not quite savvy enough to realize that their knives could actually be thrown, which left them with an effective range of about a foot past their fists. Such could not hope to penetrate a weaving lightsaber lit to one and a half meters. Dei's wrist flicked about, here and there, with fleeting rapidity. A maelstrom of greenish-blue greeted those who got too close, cutting down the incoming knives, and any bodily appendages attached to them, well before they so much as reached Dei's skin. The Jedi did not particularly wish to kill them, but in the face of their wanton stupidity, he made no special effort to avoid it. His lightsaber moved so quickly that it did not wait for one thug to fall before slicing into the next--meaning that in a few seconds the Jedi would more than likely look down to see numerous dices where the lightsaber had backstroked to cut someone's body into tenths, perhaps even smaller dices. A few of the lucky ones might have lived to see only their appendages sliced off, though Dei would have to check that in a few minutes. Oh, the poor doctor would reek of death when he returned to the Temple...

Dei's first scalpel victim had by now probably spurted so much of his blood throughout the room that there was no hope for saving him. His second scalpel victim, however, had fallen quite more recently. Ironically, his friends' stupidity might yet be able to save him, if Dei could end Teh Stupid quickly enough.

 

[Jiang Winters]

And lo, the bodies tumbled to the floor in bits and pieces! Dei's lightsaber made short work of the dimwitted savages, felling them as quickly as they came. It could be argued that killing them had done the universe a favor - thanks to their deaths, the gene pool was slightly less cluttered with idiots and failures. Slightly being the operative word. With the original scalpel victim dead, the second victim flailing helplessly and groaning, and a host of thugs slashed up into tiny morsels, all resistance in Dei's corridor had gone silent.

Worryingly silent, in fact. The screaming -and sudden quiet- drew Samanya's attention. The feline finished off the last of the hostiles in her section of the structure by using the Force to simply lift the man and fling him directly up into the ceiling. The thin fiber panels covering the ceiling buckled under his impact; Sam held him there just long enough to seize the thin metal framing that the panels rested upon and, using the Force, bend that framing tightly around the man's upper torso. He yelped and flailed helplessly, but with his arms pinned to his body and his chest constricted just enough to hamper easy breathing, Sam had managed to take most of the fight out of him, and she had saved a bullet or five in doing so!

With her man dispatched, she booked it out of the hall, across the lobby, and into Dei's corridor as fast as her armor-clad legs would allow. "Dei! You holding up okay?" she asked, whilst stepping over the pile of unconscious gangsters in the entryway.

 

[Andreus Makaryk]

Dei, for his part, didn't seem too worried, at least not about imminent threats to his own safety. Things had suddenly gone quiet, albeit by his hand. No longer were the thugs attacking him. He looked down at his second scalpel victim, bleeding out whilst he flailed about, and quickly recognized that his victim could still live.

With quick, Force-aided movement, he bent down and removed the bloody scalpel, far more carefully and professionally than the thugs had done for the first victim. With a modicum of concentration, Dei sutured the artery using the Force, for he had little time to reach for supplies. The thug would live, though he still was in no shape to put up a fight, and Dei wished to keep it this way, at least until he knew the entire warehouse would be cleared.

"Yes, I am fine, but I cannot fix stupid. Everyone charged me with knives while I had my lightsaber on," Dei explained to Sam. "Hence, the pained screams and quick deaths."

Though the two Jedi had dispensed with the immediate threats, Dei still sensed others about, in the back rooms. He would not have been surprised if they had heard the screams. "So yeah, everything is fine, except that we are not done."

 

[Jiang Winters]

Sam was genuinely impressed. Dei healed the thug just as easily as he had killed the fallen fool's comrades. Her tail swished behind her as she watched the tall human patch up his attacker, her ears folding back as she took a moment to look within herself, to place herself within Dei's shoes. The female came to the conclusion that she didn't have Dei's capacity for mercy; were she in his place, she would have put a bullet between the kid's eyes and move on to her next target.

Now that she was a Jedi, perhaps it was time for a bit of a change.

The feline shook her head and snapped out of it. "I feel the others too; let's get a move on. I smell fear in the air; this battle's pretty much over. I give it five more minutes until we're done. Ten, tops."

Little did Samanya realize that, while the bulk of the gang would perish quickly and easily beneath the weight of her bullets and Dei's blade, the ringleader at the very heart of the complex would pose difficulty both to herself and to Dei.

 

[Andreus Makaryk]

Unfortunately, Dei was a surgeon, not a psychiatrist...and he had determined that his attacker had displayed a rather distinct lack of sanity. He could hope, too, that with the proper referrals, the silly assailant might receive a bit of help with his life issues, too. After patching up the thug's immediate wounds, the doctor extracted a prescription pad from somewhere within his pockets and started scribbling.

Dei sent a final surge of the Force through his assailant, to purge any residual pain from his system, before speaking to his assailant for the first time since incapacitating him. Of course, the assailant was still far from any weapons that had any chance at all against one of the Jedi, much less both of them. "Now, you should head to the Coruscant Institute for Pyschological Sciences, fifty-three levels up, three kilometers north, sixteen kilometers east. Here's a transit ticket for you--" Dei had been sent with a booklet of them as he did not have his own transportation on Coruscant--"and they can help you get your life back together. Take this referral with you, in case you get hassled on the way. Refer any questions to me. I'm giving you a second chance instead of letting you join your buddies here--" Dei motioned to the large pile of corpses--"don't kriff this up, okay?"

After ensuring the thug had left the warehouse on the way to transit, Dei joined Sam once more. He could sense the fear as well. "Yes, I suppose we should finish this..."

 

[Jiang Winters]

Ultimately, the final battle would prove to be rather anticlimatic. Just as Sam and Dei made their way into the final room, a tremendous thump rocked the building, causing the lighting fixtures to fluctuate - or, in a few cases, completely fail. "That sounded like an explosion," Samanya noted, as she padded forward to the doors leading into the head honcho's office. It was locked fast, and smoke was curling out from the door's seams. A simple swipe of her lightsaber obliterated the obstacle posed by the lock, and she shouldered the doors open.

The boss's room was a disaster zone. The walls were scorched and the wooden surfaces showed signs of alligatoring, caused by being partially burnt. A few flames flickered here and there, and corpses littered the floor. The epicenter of the blast was the smoldering remains of what -might- have been a desk in the center of the room. Behind the scorched remnants was a chair, upon which was seated a pair of legs, which had been severed from their body; everything from the waist down was in the chair. The rest was splattered across the back wall.

Sam grimaced as she entered the area. "Um... Well then, I think that someone screwed up the use of a dead-man's switch," she observed casually, as she nudged one of the dead with her boot. He didn't groan or twitch; he was definitely dead or totally unconcious. Either way, he wasn't a threat. The feline looked around, and once satisfied that there was no threat, she turned to Dei and said, "I guess we're done here. The CSF can handle things from here."