Well, the one he had literally taken the arms off of did surrender but that was more a case of passing out rather than letting good sense prevail and giving up before Max was forced to be even harder on him. The one he had demanded throw down his weapons instead took a running start at him.
Max tutted once before springing into a sprint as well.
Meeting the cultist in the middle, he caught a blade with the upper-most blade of his saber staff and pushed the bottom half into an attack to sweep the man's legs. The cultist, with the aid of the Dark Side in the air, managed to dodge backward at just the right moment before countering with a thrust of his blade.
Spinning his saber staff, Max pushed the weapon up and away to his left before spinning the blade again to cause confusion. Grabbing it mid-spin, he would jump up slightly, thrusting with the tip of one of his blades from above, then from regular height as he landed and once more from slightly lower as he bent his knees. The cultist managed to block each of them but, by this point, he was back pedaling furiously, focused entirely on Max.
The ribs of the young Kiffar were burning. He found himself wheezing and barely able to move. There was no question he had broken a rib and quite possibly two. It was a nasty fall and his adrenaline was what allowed him to reach back and toss his lightsaber to Weiss. But the adrenaline was wearing off and the pain was radiating throughout the Padawan's body. He threw himself back against a tree so that he could sit up and take a look at what was happening. It wasn't a pretty sight. Weiss, whom Isen was watching closely because he wanted his lightsaber back, had lost his damn mind and started using powers he had never seen in person, but had certainly read about in his studies. And what he knew about such usage of the Force was concerning.
But that wasn't all. His Master, Izel Thral, had taken a beating and was on the retreat to lick her wounds. Even Master Tionson, who came into the fight like thunder and lightning, was struggling to take care of these primitive cultists. As bad a shape as Isen was in, he felt like he had to get back in the fray. Isen closed his eyes, concentrated and meditated. Isen felt as if he might be able to stand and fight. Wobbly, he got to his feet, tried to sprint and immediately collapsed. He went nowhere. Coughing and wheezing, Isen panted, clutching his ribs. Isen, no Jedi Master, and certainly not a master at using the Force, could still sense there was a dark force blocking Isen's connection to the Force. Something was amiss, and Isen was still grounded.
Izel looked up in shock as Max came screaming into battle, managing to push back the cultists that were on top of her. Slowly the Vratix struggled to sit up, pressing her back against a fallen log. "Battle Meditation," She coughed out to Max while trying desperately to stem the bleeding from her wounds. "They're using Battle Meditation. Need to find a way to..." She trailed off, shaking her head as she started to feel woozy. This was bad, she was losing too much blood. If she didn't heal herself she'd pass out soon.
The Vratix took a moment to glance in her Padawan's direction. Isen was in bad shape, though thankfully not as bad as her. And Master Hannibal seemed to have come to his aid. She had to get back in the battle herself though. Bringing her hands together Izel tried to calm her mind and enter a meditative state to heal herself. It just wasn't working though. The battlefield was too chaotic, with all kinds of emotions swirling around her, coming from both the cultists and the Jedi. And there was this blasted aura of darkness from the Battle Meditation, it made it impossible for her to focus and use her powers. She was out of time.
Izel nodded off slightly and shook her head again, trying to stay awake. "Come on..." She hissed to herself. "Don't..." Her head dipped again and again as the blood pooled on the grass beneath her. The Vratix shook her head violently and slapped herself. "Come on! Don't... you... dare..." Her vision blurred and went dark, the sounds of battle becoming more distant. Finally the Jedi could keep herself awake no longer, and collapsed on the ground, slipping into unconsciousness.
Max wanted to roll his eyes in annoyance but he held the emotion back and released it into the Force. His attempts to push back against the oppressive blanket of the Battle Meditation were coming up with nothing and that was irritating but not entirely unexpected. From what he could feel it was originating from some distance away and the only way he knew that could happen was if someone was working in a group to make it happen.
And as the battle meditation pulled his own performance down it was still elevating his opponent. The cultist he was battling had no right to still be as spry and as fresh as he was at this point. But the battle meditation boosted him at the same time as limiting Max himself, meaning they were roughly equal.
Which should be nonsense but, here they all were.
Twirling his saber staff, Max blocked several attacks toward himself and circled with his opponent to keep from being pushed back into a tree or whatever. The whole thing was a dance at this point and Max pushed himself into it, ignoring the few minor cuts the enemy managed to score against him to just keep going.
The cultist was only keeping up with him physically because of the battle meditation - he was not an experienced fighter and it showed. It was only the boost and the drain that kept the fight going. So all Max needed to do was last until the man's inexperience reared it's ugly head and he could take advantage.
Didn't matter if your opponent was faster and stronger if they kept throwing their weapon around like it was nothing more than a big stick after all.
Jago gave his all in defense, not taking any fatal wounds but still not able to make any kind of offense against the 2 cultists. That was until a blur of motion from the side ended one cultist and got the full attention of the other. Jago finally breathed, realizing he'd been holding his breath for the last few moments of the exchange.
He went to move to help the Jedi who'd came to his aid, but was beat to it by the white haired Jedi, who seemed....a little off to say the least. Instead he moved to help the crazy Jedi who'd demanded the crazy bloodcrazed cultists surrender. They were bloodcrazed cultists man! Still couldn't fault him for trying. Jago winced as he dashed behind the cultist that was still engaged. Jago could feel more blood seeping from the wound in his leg and the numerous shallow cuts on his upper arms. He pushed through the pain and came up behind the enemy who swung wildly at the Jedi master. So wild that even from behind Jago had to dodge a few slashes, and failed to dodge one, to take another slash on his left arm, this one deeper. He cursed whatever darkness was slowing him down and gritted his teeth. It was time end this. Finally between another wild swing the Matukai delivered a devastating straight punch to the base of the neck of the cultist, hitting right on the spot where the spine meets the skull. Needless to say the savage fighter dropped like a ragdoll.
Then Jago took another look around, the fight was winding down, but a few cultists still stood. The Nautolan could still feel the dark presence over his mind and body and he began to gather the light inside himself. He wasn't sure if it would work but he planned to fill every fiber of his physical body with the light. He concentrated and hoped that his Jedi allies wouldn't let any cultist get to close. From his core the light spread through his body and he could feel the warmth. Yes it was working! With one final push, his body clenched in effort Jago could feel the darkness leave his body and mind. He exhaled and almost slumped over and realized his vision was swimming. He had pushed the presence out but it had been more taxing on him than he could have foreseen. He wasn't down yet, but he could feel the exhaustion quickly setting in. At least his body was his own again, and the fight was hopefully almost finished.
Things did not seem to be getting markedly better. Isen wasn't sure if the group was desperate for something good to happen, but if they weren't, desperation was riding in on a speeder bike at breakneck speed. Something good needed to happen. Unfortunately for Isen, the broken ribs from his fall caused incredible discomfort. If it weren't for the pain, the broken ribs would not cause too much trouble. They didn't prevent mobility of the arms or legs. It was purely a pain issue so far as Isen understood it.
Isen, not particularly adept at these types of Force powers, took a shot at the dark. The control pain force power was the only thing that came to Isen's mind. The Battle Meditation and the pain was making his mind foggy, and he was nearly ready to just sit back and let destiny take it's place. But, to a certain degree, and to Isen's surprise, the pain subsided. He stood. It still hurt, but it was not a hurt that could not be managed. Unfortunately, as he stood, he could feel the pressure on his lung. Isen coughed and specks of blood shown on his arm. No doubt, he had slightly punctured his lung. He was in no worse shape than anyone else, he imagined.
Isen had one more play. One of the dead cultists lay some twenty feet away, his weapon still in his hand. Isen made his way in that direction, took the weapon from his cold, dead hands and concentrated. He had been practicing his psychometry, a talent that he knew he had but had never honed, but still, it was crude and often times yielded unusable results. Isen closed his eyes and pictures of the weapon's past flooded his mind, trees, trees, running through the forest, and there! The weapon had given him sight of the temple. And more, he had a great head start on which way to go.
The crude cultist staff played another trick, however. The Dark Side energy of those who forged it and used in the past seeped into Isen's consciousness, the seductive nature of the Dark Side playing with him. Isen dropped to one knee and cinched his eyes shut. He would have to battle this internal battle. If he could win it, and his allies could survive this battle, locating the temple would be within their grasp.
It could be said, quite fairly in the Jedi Master's opinion, that things were a mess. Hannibal looked around as the cultist he had been grappling fell to the ground, stabbed through the heart. The punchy one's arms were covered in bleeding cuts, it felt like Izel had lost consciousness, Weiss had called on the Dark side, and Hannibal was fairly sure he felt the active influence of the Dark Side somewhere in the background slipped into the general darkness floating around. It was a good thing he was resistant to such influence, for the most part. They would need to regroup and recover be- Wait, was that Padawan doing what Hannibal thought he was doing?
The Jedi Master's left hand rose up, the Force answering his call to pull the cultist weapon that @Isen Ramm was looking very concentrated over from the Padawan's grasp and into Hannibal's own before he could get far in his reading. It was an act of telekinesis that absolutely did not lack for force or swiftness, reflective of an experienced Force user. Apparently, either Izel hadn't told her Padawan not to read weapons or Isen just didn't bother listening. Certainly not without prior preparation, in a Dark Side soaked valley, under the active influence of some kind of Dark Side ritual. That kind of mistake required correction.
Assuming Isen did not resist the strong pull while focusing on something else, Hannibal would catch the staff, deactivate his lightsaber, and place it back on his belt. He pointed to @Weiss Zano , then to the ground on which the Knight stood. "Sit. Don't move," Hannibal instructed with a tone that strongly suggested argument was not in Weiss' best interest, an echo of the sharp and military voice of his first teacher. He then walked over to Izen, reaching his free hand up to his helmet to unseal it, remove it, and clip it to his belt. He looked down at the Padawan.
The ordinarily cheerful Master did not look happy. In fact he looked somewhere just north of absolutely livid. Internally he was fairly calm, but it was usually best to make one's opinions on something clear from the get-go. "What, exactly, were you trying to do instead of helping your teacher? Or anyone else, for that matter?" he asked icily, holding up the cultist's weapon. He wasn't looking forward to the answer and didn't really expect it to be good, but it was only fair to allow the Padawan a chance to explain himself before Hannibal made him do like, so many push ups. Just so many.
Isen felt the cultist's weapon just sort of "zip" right of out of his grasp. His head shook, partly in disbelief, partly in breaking the seeping of the Dark Side energy into his mind. The whole incident shook him up, and shook off what he was doing to control the pain. He felt like hurling, but he managed to keep it down. He held his ribs and sat down on his knees, bending over and looking at the ground.
Isen felt a strong presence, strong in the Force approaching, but he didn't feel it to be threatening. Irked certainly, but not the bloodthirsty cruelty that the cultists were exuding. "What, exactly, were you trying to do instead of helping your teacher? Or anyone else, for that matter?"
Isen panted a time or two, and took a few deep breaths. He rolled to sit on his backside and looked up at Master Grayza. He had noticed him earlier but this was this first interaction with the Jedi Master. As Isen was about to answer, he quickly turned his head away from Grayza and vomited. The vomit was full of blood from the lung puncture. Isen wiped his mouth and looked over to where he had last seen Izel Thral. She had started going down the middle to the right flank, while Isen's route had taken him down the far left flank. She was still a fair ways away.
Isen was accustomed to verbal scoldings. It's the way many of the Jedi Masters and Knights treated the younglings and initiates on Jedha who did not have a master. And to Isen's credit, he received many for not studying as he should or exerting himself into the academics of being a Jedi. It still took him aback, however, because Izel Thral's corrections that he had grown to appreciate were much more...clinical and less emotive. Isen felt that this specific verbal lashing wasn't particularly fair, but he also wasn't one to argue or question those who outranked him. He didn't thrive off of confrontation like some. The young Kiffar coughed out some more blood and offered a polite bow. "My apologies. I wasn't sure I would make it that far. I'll try and make my way directly." Isen nodded toward Weiss. "If you have words with that one, could you see to it that I get my lightsaber back. I let him borrow mine." He lifted a brow and shrugged a little. "I'd ask him myself, but he doesn't seem to be in his right mind today."
Max nodded to the ally who managed to knock out the cultist he had been fighting from behind – he could appreciate the worthy tactic of just smacking the enemy from behind until they passed out. After all, he was a Jedi not an idiot. The cultist was down and, it seemed, that the immediate danger had passed.
Or it probably was because he didn’t think Hannibal would start up a lecture or anything while there was still an attack ongoing. He smiled slightly to the person who had assisted him.
“Thank you for that – I was running out of ways to take him down without resorting to lethal damage.”
Which he refused to do.
People brainwashed into believing in the Dark Side were not people he wanted to kill – they were victims of the abuses of the Dark Side, victims of the people who would take advantage of this entire planet. They didn’t deserve to die, even if he would acknowledge that force was needed to stop them. In some cases that force might even seem excessive but the fight with the second cultist under the effects of the Battle Meditation meant that he was probably right to cut off the limbs from the first.
Attempting to heal himself backfired so he ignored his own aches and moved over to Izel. The Jedi Knight was in a bad way but Max wasn’t going to let that stop him. Kneeling down beside her, he placed his hands upon her and reached into the Light. Calling on the Light powerfully, he punched a hole in the Battle Meditation’s area of effect, helping to unravel it as he channelled the healing energy into the other Jedi until she was healthy enough to awaken.
Bruises and shallow cuts remained but she would be alive and fighting fit still. He gently helped her to her feet.
“Izel the battle here is won.” He assured her calmly, a frown firmly in place, “How it was won must be addressed as well as our next steps. Are you up for continuing?”
Izel gasped and coughed violently as Max sealed up the worst of her wounds. She clearly wasn't at 100%, but she stood greatly improved. Taking the master's hand she got up and retrieved her pike, leaning on it to help maintain her balance. She could sense the displeasure in Max's words and expression. This engagement had been something of a disaster for all involved, and now even the entire mission may have been at risk of total failure. She would have liked to try and help, perhaps by healing her ally in return for his efforts. But the Battle Meditation had been so crippling to her thus far she decided not to make the effort unless directly asked to do so. It would probably be better for everyone that way.
"I am." She answered Max's question with a nod, and then bowed her head in shame. "Forgive me master, this is my fault. Splitting our forces was a foolish move, I never should have suggested it. I fear these cultists are far more dangerous then we anticipated." She scanned over the battlefield. Things seemed to have calmed down for the moment, though her allies were in a sorry state. She spotted Isen some distance away conversing with Master Grayza. It didn't look like a pleasant conversation. She looked back to Max. "If you'll excuse me, I must attend to my Padawan. Perhaps you and Master Grayza should take the lead from here on out."
With that she would make her way over to where Isen and Hannibal were standing. It was immediately apparent that her apprentice had suffered some serious injuries of his own. Again she would have liked to immediately take the time to heal him, but she decided to hold off for a moment until she figured out exactly what was going on. There was an obvious tension in the air, along with a spike in the dark energies that pervaded the forest. She feared Isen might have done something ill advised, though that would be unusual for him. For the most part he had been quite good about controlling his emotions and not letting the dark side tempt him. "Is there a problem here Master?" She asked Hannibal cautiously. It was plain to see he was none too pleased with the situation, whatever was going on.
Hannibal's words laced with a sharp tone telling of great dissatisfaction and frustration hit Weiss head on. If he hadn't realized it before this gesture on the behalf of a Jedi Master surely would make him realize his mistakes now. In fact Weiss knew full well what he had done, and it was something he had a habit of doing. Forceful maneuvers such as chokes, crushing motions and all the similar things were discouraged within the ranks of his order but the young Jedi usually only refrained from doing so when there were other Jedi eyes watching. Weiss was naturally gifted in the Force so much so that many have described him as being above average and his natural applications of telekinesis such as simple waves, pushes and shoves produced as much kinetic energy and power as some of his peers's maximum efforts on such moves. Perhaps such things were the reason he somewhat leaned towards the discouraged usage of the powers gifted to him, a crushing choke could prevent a lot of enemies better than a vast number of other simple techniques, and given the fact Weiss barely had to try to produce such devastating consequences it wasn't too odd why the young knight leaned towards the estranged and usually Dark Side affiliated applications of The Force.
When noticed and scolded by his Masters in the past he simply took the reprimandations and apologized but would continue his practices regardless whenever their eyes weren't pointed at him. Weiss simply believed that there was no logical reason to stop using such methods with the vast power he wielded and firmly believed that it did not affect him or edge him towards the Dark in any way - which in and off itself was already a problem..
With a couple of pants of exertion the young Jedi took a seat on the grassy floor and placed his deactivated lightsaber on his belt. His eyes glanced over the battleground to make sure everyone was relatively alright but most of his gaze was pointed downwards at the floor. He held the hilt of Isen's lightsaber in his hands staring at it. He realized he could have tossed it to Master Grayza who was making his way towards the Padawan but decided that keeping silent would probably be his best course of action considering the Master's visible dissatisfaction.
Well, the Padawan seemed to open to correction at least. He came off as far less arrogant than some others, if a little quietly indignant of the situation. He'd passed the test nonetheless, so Hannibal laid off him a bit. Plus the kid was coughing up blood and the way he was breathing indicated a lung puncture and fractured ribs. "Acceptable. For future reference, don't read weapons. But if you're going to do it anyway, you need preparation, focus, and not to be sitting in a Dark forest," he informed Isen, without half as much harshness as a moment ago. Though his tone shifted slightly as he turned to Izel as she walked up, pointing toward her with the club.
"Your Padawan was trying to pick up psychometric impressions from a weapon in the middle of a Dark Side forest. I assume you know why this is frowned upon, yes? He also needs to be evacuated out, he needs proper medical attention," he looked over the recently-healed Vratix, noting the general unsteadiness and wealth of fresh blood. "As do you, I'd say. You two should do what you can about it for the moment. Weiss and I need to have words."
Without further delay he turned on his heel and walked back over to where Weiss was. He did seem to have sat down as instructed. Good. Hannibal stopped in front of him, one hand on his hip. He could still sense the Dark clinging to him, just a little, from when he'd used anger to fuel the Force. For all of Weiss' military stylings, Hannibal had quickly come to consider his disciple and focus both wanting. Arrogance and anger were not a welcome mix in a Knight of the Order. Hannibal's eyes narrowed slightly. He seemed to act obediently, but the Jedi Master suspected based on earlier it was either habitual or feigned rather than genuine shame and reflection.
"Isen's lightsaber, please," he requested coolly, reaching out a gloved hand palm up to take it. "You called on anger. Explain yourself." Dissatisfaction was certainly a way to put it. Weiss had, so far, proven himself unreliable in Hannibal's eyes and the Jedi Master was both irritated and disappointed. But as always, he offered a chance to explain. People lied, but the Force never did. Although Hannibal rarely flexed his seniority as a Master, this was one of those situations that seemed to call for actually pulling rank. What followed would at least partly depend on Weiss' answer.
"Acceptable. For future reference, don't read weapons. But if you're going to do it anyway, you need preparation, focus, and not to be sitting in a Dark forest," Master Grayza told Isen. The Padawan nodded. He knew better, but it was as if he...forgot. He couldn't explain it. If his mind had been right, he never would have taken the risk. He watched as Grayza talked to Izel Thral. He was still holding his ribs, but if he didn't move, the pain was manageable.
As Master Grayza walked away to go deal with Weiss, Isen turned back to his teacher and mentor. "I don't know why I did that, Master. Well, I do know why, but I don't know how I forgot about the dangers. I knew better." He looked back toward the branch that gave way that resulted in his fall and his busted ribs and a punctured lung. "I don't know how I managed to pick that branch of all branches either. It's like my mind was in a fog the entire time." He shook it off and nodded toward the northeast. "But, I know where their temple is." He looked back at the weapon and then back to Izel Thral. "I saw it through the weapon."
The young Kiffar was ready for his wounds to be tended to, but he kept his eyes checking out the conversation between Master Grayza and Weiss. He wasn't eavesdropping or being nosy. He just wanted his lightsaber back.
Max didn't like to see people beating themselves up over a failing, especially when said failing only happened because of an enemy action that could not be predicted. If anyone had been able to predict it, it would have been the two Jedi Masters and they hadn't felt the machinations of their foes until they were already in motion. He squeezed Izel's shoulder gently with his hand.
"It's not your fault - the enemy was above our expectations. Your theory was sound but remember that no plan survives first contact with the enemy."
They never did.
It was one thing to be a planner but to rely on plans was to invite the enemy to stop you dead in your tracks by derailing you. Best, in Max's experience, to have a vague idea of what you wanted to do to achieve your goal and adapt on the fly. Probably wasn't for everyone but it worked more often for him than it failed.
Eye-loss not withstanding.
Collecting himself and putting his weapon away, Max rendered the living enemies unconscious with the Force to spare them the pain of their injuries. It was a small mercy that cost him nothing but time. With that done he wandered over to the rest of the group and frowned ever so slightly.
"I too felt the pull on the Dark Side spurred on by anger and frustration..." he admitted quietly, "It is something that must be address, Hannibal, Weiss... but in the middle of enemy territory is not the place. While the battle meditation favoring the Dark Side persists around us? Even less of the time."
He placed a hand on Isen's shoulder as the young padawan claimed to know the location of the temple. Max smiled a little bit.
"Some good can come from a mistake made, Isen - it's a teaching experience." he gestured to his own head, miming for him to share his mind with Isen to see what he had seen, "May I? Master Grayza and I shall go on ahead and would benefit from your insight."
Isen's eyes widened a bit. "Of course," he managed to say between coughs. The Padawan hoped that Master Max would be able to do most of the telepathy work himself. Isen was certainly getting better at the mental aspect of using the Force, but he could easily lose concentration. He closed his eyes and tried to project what he had seen. They were still pictures in his mind, but played rapidly, it would be like an animation, several drawings on paper that when flipped through, the pieces moved seamlessly to form a moving scene. Isen was getting better at speeding up the images to make it look like real time, but it was still choppy, and every so often a small piece would be missing. He could also do it very fast, and but it was easier to miss pieces that way. He was also working on taking the unnecessary chunks out and hone in on the timeframe that he wanted. He was lucky here, he only needed the last couple of hours of the weapon's existence.
If it worked, Max would see in reverse chronological order, the path of the weapon. The images would come in fast, but the order of events fairly easy to comprehend on Isen's end of the transmission. First, the weapon rises from the ground, the blue blade of Isen's lightsaber flies from Weiss's hand backwards, through the sliced skull of the weapon's owner, and once the blade cleared, the head would be fully alive and full of anger and hate. Isen's lightsaber would fly backwards out of the scene. And back and back, like a movie playing in reverse. Everyone running backwards. Leaves would float up, not down. Billowing dust would come before the falls. The attack played in reverse motion.
But it was before the battle that was important here. If Max was reading what Isen was seeing, the weapon clearly came on a path from the northeast. The cultist carried the weapon roughly 400 meters to the northeast through the thick forest. He had veered off of a game trail worn thin and bare by the large animals of the forest. The trail moved north and south, more or less, and the weapon was held by one of the cultists who came from the north moving south. Moving backward in time, the trail had a large bend that moved to the east around a large rock formation. But it was to the northwest from there that a clearing could be seen and above the grove of trees, not as tall as the ones in the forest where they just battled, the large spires of the temple could be seen.
Then black. Isen had no more information to give. Master Grayza had Force pulled the weapon from him. Hopefully, that was enough information for the Master Jedi reading his mind. Isen opened his eyes and grunted in pain. He raised his eye without raising his head questioningly, wondering if he got it.
"If you say so." Izel replied sullenly to Max's attempted encouragement. Perhaps it was the forest or the Battle Meditation, or a combination of both, but she found her mood souring more and more by the moment. She felt more then shame. She felt frustration over her failure to protect herself and her apprentice. She felt anger at the cultists who had made a fool of her in front of her companions. Enemies who had no right to be as formidable as they were. It didn't help things when Hannibal suggested she and Isen should be evacuated. That was just insulting.
"We'll be fine, thank you for your concern Master." She said firmly with a slight bow of her head. "If this encounter is any indication of our foe's strength you're going to need all the help you can get. We aren't going anywhere." While the masters spoke with Weiss the Vratix turned her attention to her apprentice. As the Padawan spoke she stepped closer and leaned down to examine his wounds more closely. The fall had clearly done quite some damage, but with the lull in conflict and a feeling as though the Battle Meditation was starting to recede she felt confident she could heal him. At least enough to get back into fighting condition.
She stood up straight again as Isen finished and replied more calmly. "Yes, well, Battle Meditation can have quite the crippling effect on it's victims. As you can see, none of us were free from it's dangers. Still, you must try to be more mindful in the future and not allow yourself to be so disoriented. You got lucky this time. If you were alone things may have gone very differently. Let's try not to tempt fate shall we?" With that the Vratix would begin her work to heal her apprentice. The effort took more than it usually would, but she was still able to succeed in mending the worst of his wounds. He'd likely still be dealing with some aches and pains for a while though.
-''You called on anger. Explain yourself." Master Hannibal demanded.
Weiss extended a hand holding onto Isen's lightsaber and handed it to Hannibal. Even as the adrenaline coursed through him from before he still somewhat remained calm and didn't object the Master's instruction from before, now that the surge of adrenaline started to subside Weiss's face took on an even more pensive look. It's true that Weiss had a habit of using some more 'forceful' techniques when he wasn't in the presence of his peers or Masters though such applications didn't usually require anger for him to perform. As such he realized that the Master's would still disapprove it and perhaps not even understand his views on it so he simply decided on the middle ground - to use them when there is no potential for conflict between him and his peers - when they're not looking. In his mind the use of such methods and techniques didn't really nudge him towards the dangers of the Dark and one couldn't really dispute their usefulness so the only logical thing to do was to still use them especially if they are to help someone or get the task done.
However in this particular case he didn't feel like his usual apology would work, he felt as if Hannibal would be more than onto his usual get out the jail free cards. The Master wanted a concrete explanation and he was perceptive enough to see through Weiss's makeshift apologies and regret. ''Such abilities come easily to me.'' he finally spoke, his tone respectful and calm rather than arrogant. ''I do admit I called upon them more than once in the past but anger wasn't the fuel for them at all.'' Though Weiss couldn't disprove the fact that today he indeed used them out of anger, the aggressive feeling probably even heightening their powers. He looked to the side slightly ''I.. I thought that some of us could actually be killed and I had the ability to stop it.'' He explained knowing full well that his words could still garner reprimandation but they were at least truthful. He left out the part about the forest potentially corrupting them as he himself wasn't actually yet aware of the enemy's battle meditation, only feeling a sense of unease and the dark crawling around them, fogging up their mind.
He bowed his head solemnly as Hannibal towered over him knowing full well what wrath of the Master's he could unleash but hoping that the fact he chosen to stay truthful in his explanation, the entire aura of the area surrounding them and the fact that he indeed played a big role in a number of the team's members survival would at least keep the Masters from sending him back to the ships.
As the battle died down the Matukai would find a nice tree and take a seat as he rested his back against it. His adrenaline had subsided and the various cuts on his arms began to sting and as he adjusted to sit down the deeper cut on his leg throbbed with pain. He winced and closed his eyes, taking that pain and began to breath deeply. He could feel the Jedi around him begin to take stock of the situation. He wished he could help heal them, but for now he could only take care of himself and aid them afterward.
The exhaustion from purging the darkness was also beginning to subside and Jago smiled, feeling like himself again. He let he light flow through him, to any with the sense to see it, it would appear as glowing strands flowing through Jago's body. The flow of energy would condense in his upper arms and the calf of his leg. He simply sped up the natural healing processes of his body. First the bleeding would stop then the wounds would slowly begin to seal as if holorecording was fast forwarded. He kept his breathing even since despite the wounds healing the speed up process didn't dull any of the pain. Once he satisfied he stopped the process and opened his eyes. The wounds would scar but that didn't matter much to the Matukai. He stood slowly and winced as he leg still ached a bit. That cut had been deeper and he didn't want to waste time fully healing it now, so his leg fully functioning would have to do for the moment.
The Jedi seemed to be in the midst of recovery after the fight. He'd have to look more into their method of healing others for sure, as he was amazed at the work that had been done on the bug lady and the younger Jedi. The were up and about after suffering some pretty serious injuries. He spotted the older Jedi with one eye that he had helped earlier, the human was chatting with his fellow Jedi in hushed tones. Jago respectfully waited for a lull in the conversation and approached the man as he seemed to be the most senior and most likely in charge of the band of Jedi's.
"Hey, so thanks for the save back there yourself. Pretty dynamic entry yeah?" Jago flashed his usual smile and hopped he could explain his presence here. He quickly ran down that he'd been among the people here for a few days and they were terrified of this cult and many more than were being reported had gone missing in the area. "So long story short I want to help and I won't slow you down. It's a long story but I'm a trained fighter and force user and ally of the light yeah?" As he finished he would give the Matukai salute and hope that the Jedi would have his aid in their mission.
Fiach’s efforts to perform a rear-guard action proved fruitless, as none of the cultists made their way passed the Jedi and so there was no need to have remained behind. Acknowledging that the imminent danger was now over, she left the remaining party members to set up a temporary camp and headed off to catch up with the two groups that had already left.
She sensed them ahead – the concentration of Light-sided auras relatively easy to pick up – and made swift progress until she reached them.
She knew the plan was to seek out a temple and deal with whatever presented itself to them – and did not wish to be left behind this time. Not because she craved action, but because there was invariably strength in numbers.
Izel was a good Jedi but she tended to beat herself up a little bit too much for his tastes. They were Jedi - they had people from around the Galaxy lining up to beat them up so there was no need to do their job for them. He patted Izel on the shoulder but otherwise decided to let her go. She was not a Padawan but rather a Knight in her own right and she needed to learn to deal with things like this on her own.
And she would, he was sure of it.
Max smiled comfortingly at Isen and waited until the young man indicated that he was ready before they began. He was happy enough to do the heavy lifting when it came to the telepathy. His version of it was more refined that Isen's own so he was able to make it smoother than most people would assume.
Still, there was pain in Isen as the transfer of knowledge wrapped up. Max placed his hand on the other Jedi's shoulder and reached into the Force, taking the pain from the young Padawan into himself instead. It struck in his head, giving him a splitting headache that made spots dance in front of his eyes but he didn't stop smiling.
"Thank you, Isen." he said honestly, "I'll make sure I put it to good use."
Stepping away from Isen he smiled a little bit at the approach of Jago. The smile turned into a little bit of a chuckle at the comment about his entrance. Max scratched the back of his head with a grin.
"Wasn't trying to be flashy but hey, who said Jedi couldn't fight with style, right?" he joked back before his eyebrows raised, "Matukai huh...?"
He returned the salute.
"We would be delighted to have you along. Myself and Master Grayza will take on their stronger forces but your assistance with our allies would be greatly appreciated. Lets get out there and win the day."