What is out there?

[Ben]

The empty glass that had once held water sat turned over on the bar, I reached out to right it...

Arms encircled me from behind, linking around my waist and pulling me into a tight embrace. Sweet sent infusing the air as I was enveloped in thick red fabric.

I was drifting in and out of consciousness, sleep had been eluding me for the past month or so since I had left Mandalore, and I had wanted to see more of the galaxy before settling in for the long wait to watch Idris. Why? I kept asking myself that, curiosity maybe? Part of me wanted to believe so, but I think I was really looking for the last vestiges of hope that not everything was as bad as I had seen in my short life. I had quickly learnt that Nar Shaddaa wasn't the place to look if I wanted to find radiant examples of generosity and love however.

I fell deeper into the embrace, inhaling the warm scent deeply and clutching at the coppery-red fabric.

The only solace I had found on this 'gamblers moon' was the ready availability of scandal and violence to stop, and that was what I had been doing. Finding cases of injustice and trying to right them, completely none-lethally of course, I don't think I could face death. That was what had led me here, to the dilapidated cantina, drinking water out of murky tumblers as if it were potent Wookie liquor. I had seen death tonight, not someone close to me, not even someone I knew; I had been seconds late in stopping the gunman from pulling the trigger and ending another's. I knew it wasn't my fault, but I couldn't change the effect it had one me; the green flash of discharging blaster kept replaying in my mind, and the crumpled expression on the human woman's face, just like the face he had worn. I tapped the tarnished wood of the bar again, catching the tenders eye in the dim orange light, I needed more water.

 

[Black Noise]

Morgan sat motionless at the Nar Shaddaa bar, staring down a Corellian Ale like it was the last she'd see in years. She only had an inkling of the fact that it was true, and this ale was possibly the last memory of home she'd have for the next nine years. Yet thoughts like that did not dwell inside of her head for long, rather deciding to push them out of the mind and focus more on, well, drinking.

Downing the fiery liquid, Morgan could not help but grin at its more subtle flavors, flavors that she could only taste after drinking it for so long. Sitting back, the long haired Echani girl withdrew a small cigarette and lit it up. Glancing down the bar, she spotted a man drinking something horribly dirty, probably the water, and sighed. The man wore that face, a face she had seen in many people and had even experienced a few times. It was the face of intense regret and self-loathing, and she could guess what had caused it.

Scooting down the bar, Morgan motioned to the bartender and ordered the man, now next to her, a drink. Looking at him, she inquired.
"Rough night?"

 

[Ben]

I didn't realize at first when the feminine voice muttered something that it was, in fact, addressing me. Nor did I see her scoot down the bar through my thick black hair which hung down and obscured my view of anything but the patch of stained wooden bar-counter in front of my downcast eyes. Truthfully, I only became aware of her in terms other than a peripheral awareness when I felt a pair of eyes boring into me, almost as if they were willing me into making an acknowledgement. I had been too zoned out, too caught up in my waking dreams to recall exactly what she said, all I could manage was to look up from under my dark, hanging, drape-like hair and ask dim-wittedly: "Pardon?"

I did not exactly resent the being from pulling me away from my day-dreaming, more just disappointed that I allowed myself to have them. My languid, black eyes were still cold however when they met her own before I quickly turned away; not before absorbing every detail, as my training had drilled into me. Her strong features where framed in luscious, white her that was almost as long as my own and matched her pale skin, which was a shade whiter than even my own pristine complexion. Her eyes were what made me look away however, spirited and a rich amber colour - not green like his - but the shape, and the way the fire burned in them. This is why I avoid looking people in the eyes, I mentally chastised myself, waiting for a response whilst hiding under my hair, avoiding her gaze. Almost drifting off again, to Jintar.

 

[Black Noise]

Morgan crooked her head, the man's thoughts drifting off into the distance and off towards what she could only assume to be greener pastures. There were dangers, however, in that type of daydreaming. It created fantasies in the mind, and such fantasies often lead to the Dark Side. For so a being thinks, so is he.

Changing the subject in a manner as to pull him away from his fantasies, Morgan reached out and touched the hair on the man's back lightly as she spoke.
"Don't see many men brave enough to wear their hair this long, speaks of a brashness I have not seen since my last encounter with a Jedi."
Morgan had no idea of this man's force alignment, but she knew that very word often got people's attention. And what with the Sith decimating Coruscant, such language turned heads even more.

The man did not look like a Jedi, but he looked like one who was stuck in the bog all those who follow justice naively get trapped in. The bog that reminded them that they could not save everyone. While Morgan had no idea what this man just experienced, her subtle ability in the Force, in which she reached out to touch his surface thoughts, told her much. He was in love, for one, and it was likely with someone no longer alive, and he was afraid of her gaze. It was a valid fear, Morgan was an imposing figure that looked as if she could tear most men in half. Yet, Morgan hoped he would get over it, as she wanted to speak with him.

 

[Ben]

I did not lithely dart away from her touch as I usually do when people try to lay hands on me. My mind was away with Jintar, who was replicating a similar motion, stroking the hair down my back, and for a brief moment, the borders between reality and fantasy blurred. Mother used to stroke my hair like that, she had loved it.

"It was for my mother." I didn't know why I was telling the woman this, whom I now realized on further inspection was huge; carefully avoiding her oh-so-similar eyes, of course. "I like it this way." Jintars' own hair had always been long, even as a child. His had been alive and radiant where my own was black and inky.

As I sat and looked her up and down, noticing that her hair was even longer than I first saw, owing to the fact that it was tied up neatly, I felt the brushing of her consciousness against my own, immediately identifying her for what she was, a Force sensitive. I was gracelessly dragged back into the cold light of reality, realizing how lax I was becoming with the insomnia and illness, I had failed to sense the subtle inkling of the Force about her and had missed out details upon my initial inspection. I tried to look back into her almost incandescent amber eyes once more, and immediately shied away. For all my steel and nerve, my cool calculation and training, I was powerless to look into her eyes and face the past. Her liquid-gold eyes where moving, ghosts dancing in their depths. So I didn't, I merely looked at her full lips and answered her, for no reason that was apparent to me.

"I wouldn't know. I have never met a Jedi." My laconic reply came back, my mellow voice sounded more clearly, like it was the first time I had heard it in months, and I only realized now that I hadn't spoken beyond ordering food and drink and board since leaving Mandalore; how long had I been astray in the galaxy? How long had I been on Mandalore? I may have left my bitter-sweet fantasies for now, but my mind was still wandering through a scatter of recollection; too busy to even bristle at the suggestion that I was in any way brash.

 

[Rector_Ras]

Raslekx walked into the cantina. They weren't his Favourite place since he hated the alcohol's effect on him He ordered a beer thinking "one cant do much can it?" He got his drink and sat down at a table alone.

He noticed a force sensitive. After looking around for a while he narrowed it down to 2 girls sitting together. Interested in them he watched from a distance not bothering to hide it. "Who would say anything to a Sith? Now that we have the galaxy's capital they wouldn't think about it." he thought as he stared.

 

[Black Noise]

Morgan smiled, believing she was possibly beginning to get through to him. Looking out, she responded.
"I'm the same actually. Initially I only wore my hair long because my mother had it that way, but I've grown to like it myself."

Reaching out, Morgan clasped her hand on the man's shoulder and drilled him with a stare. Her face solemn, she told him grimly.
"There are other ways to drown yourself in sorrow. But all of them leave you empty and hollow inside. Come on and get up, you are coming with me."

Morgan's voice was stern, very much so. Her commanding tone demanded his obedience. Standing, Morgan began to leave the bar. If this man followed her, then she knew he wanted company and, as he needed, a way out of his melancholy. But if he stayed inside, then she knew he wanted to die in his own self pity.

If he followed, Morgan would head to a dim alleyway, lit only by a barrel of trash that had been lit on fire.

 

[Ben]

I found my self actually paying attention to her when she was telling me about her hair, which was - to coin a spouted idiom - the most in the moment I had felt since.... since I couldn't recall, if I was honest. I did not find the compulsion to meet her eyes when she grasped my firm, sinewy shoulder with indomitable strength, and I was impervious to her imperious tone as she tried to get me moving, almost as if by force of will alone. She stood to a now even more monolithic height and span on her heel, long strides eating up the distance to the exit. I don't know why I stood up and followed, pulling my hair back from my face and letting it fall down past my posterior; maybe I followed for the same reason that I now realized I had taken this little sabbatical: desperation.

I felt as though I were holding the weight of the galaxy, trapped inside one of the Maw's quantum singularities with darkness closing in around me like a noose around my neck. I couldn't bare the loneliness and responsibility, the quiet expectation of necessity nagged at my conscience and I didn't know what to do with myself once Idris had been sent away and the nagging was gone. To search for hope? Maybe. More likely than not, however, it was simply because I had lost everything, and I so very desperately needed to find something... as if I needed some focal point in order to exist. It was not that I required recognition, or purpose - I had neither need nor understanding of the former and looking after my little brother from behind the scenes constituted the latter - it was more the case that I need a rock to form myself around. I needed Jintar back.

I shrugged away the grasping hands of fantasy - like branches catching on clothes, trying to hold me in place - as I got up, and trailed after the giant of a woman. The contrast between her own, heavy and driven strides and my feminine and lithe gait - which was completely without sound, of course - was almost comical, although I would not see the humour, I did not understand gender stereotyping really. Or any stereotyping. Or much about humour at all. Regardless, I glided along silently behind her as she led me out into the street and down a dark alley. Foul stenches rose in jets of steam from vents and muddy puddles of acidic rain-water splashed as the tall woman's boots stomped through them.

The passage was lined with rubbish-disposal containers and the waste of countless species, and the only source of light was an abandoned, sputtering trash-can fire another five meters away. The thought crossed my mind in a purely analytic way that the woman could have been taking advantage of my naivety all along, and that this was going to be some sort of violent altercation; in response my subconscious ran through countless tactical options and began picking out the few week points identifiable with so little knowledge of the would-be assailant. I did not believe that this was the reason I had been led to the dim, chilly alleyway, yet truth be told, I could not think of the reason for which she had brought me here, so I just stood motionless and looked in the direction of her eyes, but not focusing on them

 

[Rector_Ras]

Raslekx watched the girls leave the cantina. Having no idea who they where , what they where talking about or where they where going. He did know nether where Sith. Knowing one of them was a force user he had the duty to follow follow them and make the force user Sith. Thinking one might be a jedi but not really sure since he had never actually felt what the light side felt like he followed them without paying for his drink.


When Raslekx caught up they where in an alley with the only light source being an abandoned trash-can fire about five meters away from the girls. Raslekx stayed in the dark and moved closer into hearing distance not making a sound. He was going to find out what was going on and if he needed to drag one to Korriban . Not that he really cared personally where the force user was he just wanted to impress some powerful Sith lord. "maybe he could rewarded with some training"? he thought. He quickly narrowed the idea to only if he found a jedi. Only if he brought a jedi back could he impress a Sith lord. If he found a girl who knew nothing about the force he would give her the option to come bit not force her to as that would not help him in any way.

After being fairly close Raslekx could see the face of the pony tailed girl. The only Problem was she didn't look so much like a girl from this close. It had a fairly slender body but not that of a girl. This boy reminded Raslekx of Jason but with long hair. Jason who he had antecedently killed on the same day they had kissed. Here on this planet so many years ago in a spurt of anger.

After being so close he also noticed that both where force sensitive not only one although the real female had a much stronger connection to it. Theory's started going threw Raslekx's mind. " Could that girl be a jedi trying to recruit this guy? Or maybe she hasn't noticed he is force sensitive". Having made so many questions for himself he wanted answer for he started to listen closely the the tow people from the darkness

 

[FrostFall]

Logan with his head draped between his shoulders was thinking to himself oh this hangover is killing me i better find somewhere for a fix'em'up drink on entering the bar a loud voice from behind the bar screams LOGAN FROST YOUR BARRED NOW GET OUT Logan comes flying out the door fine I never wanted to drink there anyway... YOU WATER THE DRINKS ANYWAY laying on the floor he looked up seeing three shadow figures in an ally way two seemed to be close together as if they were friends and another who was feather away Logan then though to himself well them two must know one another possible friends maybe lovers but who is that third person he hasn't spoken nor have they noticed that person

he then drops his head back onto the floor while laying there he talks to himself you know your gonna have to investigate it is Nar Shadaa that third figure is most likely a mugger or worse i better go look Logan slowly get's back on his feet and begins to walk towards the ally way while placing a hand on the back of his head god i hope there not to loud why did i have to join that drinking contest damn Twi'lek can sure drink

 

[Black Noise]

Morgan faced the lithe human, her face now twisted into a grim expression. Looking over the man, she stretched out a hand. Although Morgan was nearly half a foot taller than this man, and weighed a good 30-40 pounds heavier in muscle, her hand was strangely gentle. Her hands were well calloused, scarred and tough from beating up wood, iron and flesh. Yet they held the innate gentleness only someone who knew their strength, and loathed themselves for it.

Then, she spoke.
"Your eyes, I've seen the type too often. They hold too much pain for their age, and I cannot stand it. Do you know what I am?"
Before the man had a chance to answer, she answered the question for him.
"I am Morgan Albion, Echani, and you are a Mandalorian. Your people are strange to me. If you do not find glory in all that you do, then you pretend and bottle it up till your griefs and inner turmoil takes you to the grave. My people, we battle. If we have grief, if there is sorrow on our hearts, then we do battle and let our blows speak instead of words."

Swiftly, she stripped off the light armor protecting her, revealing the light under clothing she wore. The clothing was a simply, white long sleeved shirt and light, long red pants. Her clothing was flecked with ash and blood. With her armor, she set aside a sword, a pair of brass knuckles, and three lightsabers. Taking up the stance of Echani hand-to-hand combat, Morgan spoke to the man.
"Worry not, this is not a fight to the death. But you will exchange blows with me, whether you want to or not. I will see what emotion you're trying to hide."
And if you look hard enough, you might see mine, Morgan thought silently.

Whilst she spoke, she simultaneously sent a light telepathic message to the Sith who stalked them. She had sensed him once they left the bar, but she mostly ignored him. After what she had been through just yesterday, another acolyte did not scare her.
I killed an acolyte stronger than you just the night before, his lightsabers now lie among mine. You may stay, observe, but if you intervene, I will end you.
And she meant that.

 

[Ben]

As the tall, kindly woman spoke to him, removing her armour - light shirt cast in flickering fire light - I had a small fragment of my focus directed towards what appeared to be another Forceful being that I had felt observing me since the bar in the cantina. I had not felt a Jedi's or Sith's presence yet, I simply had not seen enough of the galaxy or met enough people; but he being had a distinctly malign aura about him; contrasting the light nimbus that suffused the woman's Force presence opposite me. I noticed her eyes flitting to the location where their stalker was located, not nervously, but flashing with a fierce and righteous anger; was I watching a Jedi and Sith rivalry in action?

"Are... are you a Jedi?" I probed whilst the question was still half-forming in my mind, I frowned slightly, it was unlike me to speak so much, or spill out half formed questions so easily; was she influencing me with the Force? Unlikely, I was not without my training, and I was excellent and shielding my mind, although admittedly probably not as skilled with the arts of the Force as the woman before me was. "How did you know I was Mando'ade? I do not obviously portray myself as one, and I am not precisely an exemplification of our stereotype?" The question was an off hand one whilst I opened myself to the Force and came out of hiding, allowing the possibly-sith follower to know that I was aware of him; the advantage of a surprise reversal if he ambushed was outweighed by the intimidation that two strong force users aware of ones location provided.

I then looked back at the woman mentally, in truth my eyes had never diverted away from her strong chin whilst I had scanned things forcefully and peripherally, but now she was laying out her arms, which were a touch more obvious that my precise and mainly concealed weaponry. "I have chosen a pacifist path, so I am glad you do not want to push me to kill, but I have a purpose, and if you threaten my life, I will be forced to do so." I knew my response was possibly overly cocksure, but that was just a technique to rile ones opponent up and knock her focus. My mind raced as it planned a thousand and one strategies and ten moves ahead, I had received training to combat Force users, and whilst I did not want to fight, this seemed more like friendly competition than a hateful slug match, and I could abide that.

In good faith and the name of sportsmanship, I removed my two beskad and laid them against the wall, and placed my verpine shattergun on top of them, my chest plate, greaves and vambraces and the helmet I seldom wore beside them. However, as I did not trust this woman, I kept my hidden blades and thrown weaponry on my person. The tight black undergarments I wore clung to my body, and the loose, flowing cloak spilled out behind me, uninhibited by the armour that it had been tucked and wrapped around previously. As soon as her body began the motion of dropping into a fighting stance, I imperceptibly tensed up, ready to employ my mind-boggling speed in order to end things quickly; I had yet to encounter anyone that could come close to my unnatural speed. "When you are ready." I sighed, I did not relish this, but I did not like the way she seemed to jump to conclusions and label me so quickly. My pose - standing straight, arms folded behind me at the naval of my back - or my expression did not change, not even my eyes or the way I breathed or my heart rate, I had been trained to combat beings and species who were able to detect such things; internally however, my mind and Force abilities kicked into overdrive. I was like an overclocked computer as my peripheral sense picked up every bump and outcropping in the uneven ground and walls, the direction of the light breeze, the amount of light provided and if my night-eyes would be better than her own, having been raised in the dark a lot of the time. I scanned her stance to predict possible fighting styles she could use and looked to where I could use her size and the surroundings to my advantage. I was ready.

 

[Rector_Ras]

After receiving the message from the jedi he knew that sneaking around would get him nowhere so he moved out into the open to see what would happen next. As he moved in closer and into hearing distance he could hear the 2 talking "Your eyes, I've seen the type too often. They hold too much pain for their age, and I cannot stand it. Do you know what I am?"
"I am Morgan Albion, Echani, and you are a Mandalorian. Your people are strange to me. If you do not find glory in all that you do, then you pretend and bottle it up till your griefs and inner turmoil takes you to the grave. My people, we battle. If we have grief, if there is sorrow on our hearts, then we do battle and let our blows speak instead of words."

So formal why the need for it? The man was upset. Raslekx could tell now his eyes they where to familiar to him. He would never have cared about the eyes if they didn't look like his eyes but they did. His eyes from years ago. His eyes from when he left this planet to find power. This boy had lost someone close to him very close. Some one he had loved. Seeing the eyes brought back memory's to Raslekx . Memory's he had tried so hard to not think about. Memorys of his earlyer chiled hood of his friends when there was a group of them and then most of them being slaughter. Only him and Jason left and the years they spent together. The years they lived with each other. The good times and bad. But the memory the most vivid was the say he killed him. The day Raslekx pushed Jason over an edge for getting in his way.

They broke him. His control of emotion was gone a tear fell down his face. He would not try to inter-fear with this fight the boy needed it.
After deciding he heard the boy speaking but he was in mid sentence all he picked up was "a pacifist path, so I am glad you do not want to push me to kill, but I have a purpose, and if you threaten my life, I will be forced to do so." After that the boy got ready to fight said "When you are ready." and waited. He looked back to where they had come to wipe his tear without the jedi seeing it and as he did he saw a figure walking closer to them. "why would another person be comeing down here? there nothing over here what could he possibly want?" Deciding it best he didn't know what was happening but knowing the jedi would kill him if he did something wrong he called to the jedi "jedi! do you want another man coming over here to watch or should I go deter him?"

 

[Black Noise]

Morgan smirked, he was suddenly so full of himself. She guessed he was trying to throw her off, but it did not matter too much to Morgan. This fight was not so much trying to confirm what Morgan thought, but to get to the truth of this man without Morgan's assumptions getting in the way.

Before they began the fight, Morgan replied honestly.
"I try to be, I'm not very good at it. As for your second question, your walk betrayed you. Every being subconsciously carries himself according to how he was trained. It is not something you can really hide, only something you can make difficult to detect. But I've done a lot of mercenary work, and that's put me around Mandalorians. You walk like one who has learned their combat styles. While I could've been wrong, and you could've been just a martial artist who took towards the Mandos more than any other people. But by your response, it seems I was correct."

Suddenly, without aid of the Force, Morgan charged forward. The attack was obvious and head on, a probe really. Her palm flew out at the man, aiming to strike him squarely in the chest. Her speed was great, however not totally remarkable. It was a surprising speed for someone of her size, but something Morgan knew this man would likely easily avoid.

Simultaneously, and without breaking concentration, Morgan sent another telepathic message to the Sith. However, this time, her voice was far kinder. Do as you like, thank you for your respect.

 

[Ben]

I listened intently and respectfully as the woman replied and thought to myself: my walk? Was she mad? I had been told I walked like many things by drunken cantina patriots, for example; a girl - which I was often mistaken for until I spoke - a dancer and even a ghost by one particularly drunken bearded fellow, but never had my airy gait been described as the walk of a warrior, this woman clearly had special eyes. I felt little at her remark, not pride at being reckognized, nor disdain for the people that aided in the desecration of everything I held dear, it was merely filed away as I stated: "My training was not exactly typical for one of my people, but we drew aspects from our peers combat and maintained the way of life, yes."

My attention was briefly diverted towards what seemed like a silent communique between this woman and their dark observer who had called out about yet another observer, observing him as he in turn observed us... how very layered. This was the reason I reacted as slowly as I did to this woman's assault, I was wondering whether or not the pair where in league; whether she saw the opening I presented or not, I could not discern, I merely analyzed and reacted. As the woman's slow moving palm strike careered toward's me, I simply took two quick steps, one to the side and then one back, leaving me standing just a little to the right of where the woman had been before she had attacked. Things seemed to slow when I fought, and the strike was probably quite fast, but quite fast and the speed I assumed when I let the Force imbue me and my training take over were two very different things: "I warn you. My speed is part of what made me who I am." Was all I offered the woman, resuming my stand with my arms folded behind my back, having hardly broken my posture.

 

[Black Noise]

Morgan smirked at the man's dodge. So fast, not unlike Morgan's own mother. However his speed, fast as it was, paled in comparison to Morgan's mother's speed. That was not to say Morgan could catch this man if she tried, no not at all. However, it did give Morgan a base to stand on. Now she knew how she would fight.

As her Echani strike completed through and swiped forward at empty air, Morgan immediately utilised her forward momentum, spun forward, stepping as well, and to the side which Ira stepped. She was not overly fast, Ira would see it coming a mile away. However, what he might miss was the Force Push Morgan brought with it.

Whether Ira dodged or not, unless he distanced himself fully out of the way and to the side of Morgan, he would catch a little of the blast(enough to put him off balance). If the Force push did not fully catch Ira, it would continue on into the building at the end of the alleyway's wall and blast a small crater into it. Not enough to cause serious structural damage, but enough to show that direct contact was not needed for Morgan to strike him.

Smirking, she replied.
"As did the the Force to me. Take heed."

 

[Ben]

I stood motionless and observed as the woman continued her forward motion and span to face me, what I did not notice however, was the Force blast she carried through her motion; very tactful, my lack of sleep was getting to me indeed, affecting my observation and analysis, I would need to fix that to be on top form. It was too late to fully clear myself by time I sensed the blast of the more skilled Force user, and I did not want to attempt escape and be knocked at an odd angle that my mental calculations may misinterpret leading to a loss of balance, so instead I erected a Force wall to cushion the blow instead of fully stopping it. With the wall in place, I simply let myself be carried by the remaining power that crashed through the barrier, no longer enough to shatter bones, but enough to push me to the far end of the alleyway. I moved with the blow, somersaulting and vaulting off one hand planted to the ground, springing high into the air to give me time to perceive all of the detail the pseudo-battlefield had to offer before landing with a slight bend of my knee's. Every move she mad was another chance for me to gather vital information.

"I see you are not without experience against an opponent with speed. This should prove more interesting than I initially expected." The voice was not really me, it was simply another battle-tactic sub-routine that my mind ran. I was not really doing a great deal of speaking like I had in the bar or before the fight, but rather seeking any advantage over my opponent by knocking her confidence, a technique the Sith called dun moch. "However I can assure you, you have never faced someone quite like myself. I am a different caliber of combatant." I snarled with perfectly acted malice that she would no doubt see through.

 

[Rector_Ras]

Raslekx didnt want to leave the fight he wanted to watch them. He wanted to see the fight maybe learn a thing or tow from it but he needed to get rid of this emotion.Not that he hated emotion itself. Sith thrived on emotion and thats why he would try to end this man who walked down the alley. What he hated was the fact that he didn't chose to let his emotions go. This boy broke him. He broke him without even trying to without even knowing that's what he hated. No hate for the boy thought "why,why don't I hate him he is making me weak. WHY DONT I HATE HIM!" And at that moment part of the sith code stated itself in his mind " Through passion, I gain strength and Through strength, I gain power.
" Not caring what it was that spoke to him he understood. This boy make him emotional and loosing it all at one time made him powerful and how do you hate the one person that can make you that powerful?


Raslekx called in his HK droids from his ship that wasn't parked to far away. if he couldn't kill him himself then a few droids couldn't hurt right? Just as long as they dont get to close to the jedi. He then started to walk towards the man with a hand on his lightsaber. Raslekx stoped about halfway up to wait for the man to get to him his droids where almost here tow would stand the the roof of nearby buildings and the other tow would move in behind this man. "He picked a bad day a very bad day to cross me." Then laughed at the mans misfortune " You know i probably would never have thought of killing him on a normal day! And he wont get a painless death no im going to enjoy it and make him scream! I'll rip every limb off. Limb by limb and then look into his eyes and see the cowerdnes and the fear he has for the Sith!" thats when he stoped and waited in the dark with an unsettling grin on his face and the only sound being the fighting happening behind him. Raslekx had lost control and the crazy man who slept inside him had awaken.

 

[Black Noise]

Morgan began gathering the Force as Ira flew back, taking herself into an emotionless state as he spoke to her. Seeing right through his dun moch, Morgan would hold out her arms and slowly begin walking towards Ira. While Morgan herseld knew little of Form Zero and it's applications, she could usually tell when someone used it on her.

In his move before last, he had dodged her strike by moving to the side and back behind her, close to the position she was originally at before striking out. Because Morgan had been inside the alleyway, and Ira inside of it, he would likely now realize he had positioned himself into the alleyway with Morgan standing in his only way out.

While that had not been a problem originally, with the push of Ira back and towards the wall, Ira would well see now his error. Morgan's armspan almost reached from one alley side wall to the other. While she held out her arms, it would become oberly obvious that Morgan had just backed Ira into a corner with no obvious escape except past Morgan.

While not a game ender, it would certainly make things harder on Ira. As she walked, she stated in a voice suddenly devoid of emotion.
"Then let's see how well you fight cornered."
Morgan's sudden emotion change was a product of Morgan remembering the last time she became emotionally involved in a battle. She ended up killing her opponent and drawing on the dark side. Neither of which had she wanted back then, ad especially not now.

 

[Ben]

I almost laughed internally, I was of course aware of my positional decision when I elected to leap to the dead end of the alleyway, relatively confident of the fact that I was able to remove myself from the position if I so desired. What I was more so laughing at was the identification by this woman of my none-aggressive style, planning to let her defeat herself in aggravation at not being able to catch me; the way she spread her arms was almost humorous as she ambled slowly towards my position, still stood perfectly relaxed. "I could continue my games, but I don't think that is what your aim is here, and since you have shown me respect, I shall oblige."

I closed my eyes, assuring to keep tabs on those around me with the Force so I could be taken by surprise and I lowered my conscious into a meditative trance, inhaling and exhaling slowly and deeply; I was attempting to flush the addled state I was in from the lack of sleep out of my system, and undergo a cathartic replenishment with the aid of the Force. I temporarily let go of my corporeal and current state, not quite forgetting my woe's but seeing through them, I remember musing to myself somewhere deep in my drifting conscience: perhaps intense combat is a good form of therapy after all, if death is not concerned. I inhaled once more. Exhaled.

Dropped. Lent forward. Pushed off from the ground. Became a blur of motion - for a brief second almost too fast to track - as I rocketed towards the point imminently in front of the woman's left foot. I used her own ruse against her as I pounded into the ground, cracking the concrete as I reverted my direction up towards the exposed pit and rib of the arm she had not yet drawn back, my hand became a spear as I used my reversed momentum and energy to shoot upwards in a jump diagonally, intended to deliver a crippling blow. That was the ruse however, I really dragged a Force attacked up with my elbow as she had done, truthfully intending to sail past my opponent and alight on the wall in excess of some two meters before once again reverting my direction as the Force wave would hopefully catch up with her as she brought herself around to block the blow my afterimage would leave. Hopefully she had not been hiding her speed, and my almost untraceable movement would prevail.