Deamonbane — Roleplayer Guild

Name: 	Kylar Marcus
Species: 	Human
Age: 	28
Gender: 	Male
Faction: 	Jedi Order
Rank: 	Jedi Knight
Captive? 	No

Appearance:

As a youth, Kylar was slim and smaller than most other younglings his age. However, when he hit his teen years, a growth spurt left him at a solid six feet, three inches in height. Powerfully built as well, with broad shoulders and corded, well developed muscles over his chest and arms. He slims down a bit at the waist.

Dark brown hair, inquisitive eyes of the same color and a scrunched up face that makes him seem like he is constantly deep in thought, he had never been the most approachable of sorts. His dress code is strictly utilitarian, guiding himself with the dark browns and blacks that his master got him used to. Battle armor is a recent and rather permanent addition to his wardrobe, ever since he joined in the conflict against the Sith.

His skin is tanned, ruddy and pockmarked with scars from blaster and lightsaber. One in particular stands out, an ugly red thing over his left shoulder and spreading onto his back, courtesy of the first Sith Acolyte that he encountered. A few hours in a with a topical solution of Kolto would have healed the wound quicker, ridding him of the scar, but he opted to keep it as a reminder of the mistake that led to wound. Despite this, he usually keeps it and his other mementos of battle under wraps.

He wields a single lightsaber with a blue crystal and 182 cm long, hilt included.

Flaws:

Kylar’s state of mind is constantly moving, constantly weaving from one problem, issue, solution or thought to the other, making him jump a bit too quickly to conclusions. Hurried, easily frustrated and difficult to communicate with when he is focused on something else, and he rarely second-guesses or takes the time to think over the potential consequences of his actions. However, during his time as a knight he has learned some self control and discipline, the hard way and while he holds to his patterns of thinking, he is learning with experience that speed is not always the ally of good choices. In this frame of thinking, he does tend to play fast and loose with the rules when in the heat of the moment, feeling that the choices to be made cannot be held to a single rule-book but must be organic to the situation. Thus, he has been rumored to execute Sith soldiers and adepts once he had disarmed or disabled them in some cases, or captured others and whispers of him releasing a couple more have also come in contact with Republic ears.

He feels that the council and most of the other Jedi are too set in their ways and traditions. To beat the Sith, to his understanding, they needed to heed the calls of the times and adapt, as each situation has to be resolved under the context of said situation, not from stale group of rules that were issued thousands of years past. Once again, not too popular with the other Masters, especially as he is rather vocal with his sentiments. Something of a loudmouth and a gossip with those that he is close to and considers friends, some of which are the Jedi that he grew up with, as well as fellow soldiers and those that share his passion for the field of mechanics. He feels deeply and very strongly about friends and comrades, developing close connections especially with those with whom he has shared the proverbial foxhole. 

His skill with mechanics has made him arrogant in his knowledge of the field, and he tends to be rather curt and snappy should anyone question his work.

The wound on his left shoulder makes him favor his right side now more than before, as his left side is a bit more stiff and has lost a bit of mobility thanks to a lightsaber wound. It is something that he is training to repair, but it still leaves him with a very exploitable gap in his defenses, which he tends to overcompensate for by twisting his body to the left, which leave him off balance and could be used against him.

As a Jedi, he has never had much experience when it comes to relationships closer than friendship, and thus he would be completely out of his depth trying to extend comfort or emotional care. It doesn’t stop him from trying his best, though, and most of those in his small circle of close friends understand this part of him.
Skills:

He is an adept of the variants of Form V, Shien and Djem So. He has a slight preference for the latter, as the it plays well to his physical strength and natural aggressiveness. However, his skill with Shien has benefited from his previous training in Form III. Overall, his style is more defensive than would be expected of a Form V practitioner, but no less dangerous. He is fully ambidextrous, and while his master felt that he would fight better wielding two blades instead of one, he preferred the surprise factor of being able to shift hands during combat, and even reversing his grip into a backhand mid-duel. Kylar has never encountered a properly powerful and/or skilled Sith in a duel before, so he is well aware of the need for refining in his combat style.

His skill with all things mechanical, has made him invaluable to the war effort. While fixing and repairing droids and other mechanical devices are no problem, his skills branch a bit stronger into the software part of the field. Decryption, communications, and slicing are his strengths, which explains his interest in how the Sith got past Coruscant’s defense grid, barring unbelieveable amounts of human error. While most of his early efforts, particularly before he was exposed to any advanced training, were largely successful due to trial and error, he has since learned a great deal in the field and is a point of reference for most of his comrades.

He also has a bit of talent as a pilot, even though he is not overly comfortable in the cramped space of a cockpit. He blames lack of practice, but he really isn’t as good as he feels that he could be in that regard. Not his strong suit.

He has some talent when it comes to front-line tactics as well as military command, although his creativity is limited to ground engagements, and has been frequently told that he has no head for leading space battles, and thus is usually limited to defensive roles when in space, or attacking or corralling lightly armored ships and transports, or piloting troop transports himself. This usually leads to him being a vital part of any ground engagements.
Force capabilities:

Passable Knowledge: Basic Force Powers, Mechu-deru, Tapas, Crucitorn.

Advanced Knowledge: Basic Force Powers involving telekinesis, Droid Disable, Force-Powered Falling Avalanche.

Biography:

Kylar remembers little from his life before the Order, having been all but raised in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Master Joosor’Alai had been in the same clutch as Kylar’s father. Having fallen in love with another Padawan, Marcus (Kylar’s father) decided to leave the Jedi Order with his love and move to Dantooine. He managed to remain in touch with Alai, however. 

Kylar’s father requested Jedi help with the smuggler problem that they had, and Alai, who was not currently involved in the recently started war, came to his aid. When he arrived, he dealt with the smugglers in his traditional, non-violent and diplomatic way. While there, he met Kylar, and over the two months that he was there, he began to suspect that Kylar was Force Sensitive, like his father and mother. Once confirmed, Alai sought Kylar’s father’s approval that the boy might be taken to Coruscant for training in the Jedi ways.

Alai followed Kylar’s progress as a youngling with a great deal of interest, helping him with some extra training here and there. The two knew each other well by the time came for Kylar to be elevated to Padawan, and Alai decided to take the young boy under his metaphorical wing. He began teaching Kylar in the subtle Form III, but realized after a year or so that the young padawan’s personality was far too active for the passive form, and thus gently transitioned to Shien, and then with the help of a couple of Swordmasters at the Temple, Djem So. Kylar adapted well to the new form.

Alai was active in the war effort as a master of diplomacy, as Kylar was well aware with his long absences, and once Kylar became his padawan he started joining his master in the occasional campaign and mission, usually being kept to the sidelines and on safer missions. As such, he encountered a data analyst and techie on one of the Republic cruisers that they spent a great deal of time on. The two became friends during one of Alai’s longer times away, and the man taught the avid Kylar in a lot of the subtler nuances of the craft, fanning the boy’s spark of talent into a conflagration of knowledge. Kylar remains in touch with the man when he can.

In one of their missions of his master’s homeworld of Ryloth, he was sent on a supply run to help a burgeoning militia with much needed kolto. During this supply run, his troop was ambushed by a small troop led by a Sith Acolyte. Ambushed would be a slight exaggeration as both parties were surprised at each other’s appearance, and thus developed into a confused skirmish which ended with Kylar blade to blade with the Zabrak Acolyte. 

She was a practitioner of the Juyo form, incredibly aggressive and Kylar found himself having to quickly fall back on his knowledge of Soresu to keep the flurry after flurry of attacks at bay. However, the Acolyte was far from a master in the form, and he slowly managed to revert to Djem So to take the upper hand, forcing the Acolyte back with sheer physical power. Eventually, he forced the Zabrak to her knees and for the first time in actual combat, made use of his augmented Falling Avalanche. She managed to raise her blade in time to block it, but in her hurry to force a riposte she ignored the concussive force blast. Even so, the riposte had some effect before her saberstaff flew from her fingers and caught Kylar on his shoulder before he could recover. The blow dazed the Zabrak, twisting her wrist and stunning her momentarily. 

However, as Kylar nursed his wounds, he realized that the Zabrak had recovered enough to use a force summon to bring her blade back to her hands, and in his effort to avoid her rearming herself, he accidentally killed her. The accident made him feel rather poorly, and he picked up her saberstaff and presented it to his Master when they reunited. Alai refused the gift, but recommended the 19-year-old Kylar for the Trials a few months later when they returned to Coruscant.

The trials changed him quite profoundly. He never discussed what happened in them, but those that knew him well could sense the change. He was given his knighthood and sent to various points in the galaxy. 

He was on Dantooine, fighting alongside a small armored division there when word came of the attack on Coruscant. The word came through his old friend, on leave on the planet using a hidden comm buoy and an emergency channel that only the two knew how to use. Unable to do anything about it that his friend had survived the attack, Kylar pushed what worries and questions that he had about the event aside as best he could until word came, calling him to help in the rescue of a group of Jedi that had gone missing in the attack. Rescuing his friends and fellow Jedi from Sith clutches had him agreeing to go, but he started to develop a plan to discover the details of the Sith attack during or after the rescue mission. He joined a smuggling team that he had worked with previously and they got him to Tatooine without being detected.
Personality and/or Motivation:

Distant, keeping others at bay with his infamy for blunt and outspoken behavior, he is a difficult man to befriend. Those that do manage to crack the outer shell of passive ignoring and the occasional sarcastic remark find him a very loyal friend, as if he saves up the energy saved in encounters with strangers and lavishes his friends with them. His friends and confidants are the only ones that he makes an effort to overcome his problems with empathy and he actually tries to put himself in their shoes, although not always successfully. From them, he takes criticism with an apology and a promise to do better rather than his signature,” I’m sorry, were you saying something?” 

He is a rather aggressive person, questioning and inquisitive, no matter the subject, so long as it has his interest. As of now, his curiosity is peaked as to just how the Sith managed to circumvent Coruscant's defenses so easily.

He is he has learned a great deal of self-control following his trials. Why the sudden change from brash and reckless to trying to think things through and trying for a second thought, few know, although his friends have gleaned that it has something to do with one of the trials that he underwent. Focused and determined, and despite everything and the thoughts of the masters on the matter, he is wholly dedicated to the Jedi Order and way, or he thinks he is. The other Jedi are his family and their capture drives him. That and his curiosity.

While he has his doubts about the lack of flexibility or even basic understanding of the Jedi Code, his time with Alai saw him with a very deep commitment to the Code nonetheless. While he feels that sometimes the rules must be broken in order for good to triumph, he is of the opinion that a dark path is a dark path, no matter one’s intentions goals upon taking it.

His feelings towards the Republic are uncharacteristically agreeable. The order set by Galactic law and the fact that the Jedi are the enforcers for it make him feel like a well organized part of something larger than himself. Despite his disparaging feelings for the Council, he has a great deal of respect for what they represent, rather than the individuals themselves, and feels that the Sith would introduce a great deal of unneeded anarchy. Thus, he agrees with the need for combating the Sith, but he doesn’t share the dislike and sometimes hatred that some of his fellow Jedi feel for them.

Earning his respect is a difficult, if not insurmountable challenge. Standing by one’s beliefs and thoughts on any particular point is one way, which is why he does respect the Jedi Council and the Masters even if he doesn’t agree with them. Strength of character and an ability to think with an open mind also help. He is rarely friends with those that he mistrusts from experience, or those that he doesn’t respect, be he isn’t friends with all those that he does. Alai was more of a mentor than a confidant or friend, and has not been in as much contact with the Twi’lek as he would have liked ever since the trials.

Talking of parents and/or family members bores him to the core, as he has had neither. Or he pretends that it bores him and he just doesn’t like talking about family. He isn’t quite sure yet. Talking about shared interests, like things mechanical in nature are an easy way of grabbing his attention. Speaking of lightsaber combat and forms are also things that perk his ears up, as he is far from a specialist in the theoretical discussions, but he plans on that changing. Speaking of food, of the various places where food can be acquired ready and hot, or even on the terms of preparing food is the shortest shortcut to his heart of hearts, as he enjoys cooking, if one can call what he does cooking. He has simple tastes when it comes to music, and recreation follows a similar path. 

Meditation is a chore for him, but he does enjoy the great outdoors, exploring and documenting the various flora and fauna that he comes across in his travels in a small device that he carries wherever he goes. He has a dream of travelling to the various forest worlds, Kashyyyk being of particular interest, to for study once this interminable war is over, and he listens intently to anyone speaking about the places. He feels that he would be owed some time off after the war, and would like to use that time in a way as far removed from fighting as possible.
Player’s long term goals:

His faith in the Jedi Order has been weakened of late, and thus I think it would be interesting for him to be tested. Being captured and put to the test under torture, both physical and mental would be an interesting way to go about it. Another way would be for him to confront a Sith Lord or someone with greater skill and experience than him and to be soundly thrashed, but managing to survive and escape, thus bringing him to think that maybe the Jedi Way isn’t the right way after all.

Thanks to his friend on Coruscant, he has a burning interest to discover just how the Sith took the whole of Coruscant’s defense grid in one fell swoop. He disguises his interest by saying that he wants to know in order to stop it from happening again, but he just curious. He could find it outright, or be led on a wild goose chase that ends with his thrashing mentioned above.

I would like for him to start to grow out of his apathetic shell when it comes to training another padawan in the ways of the force. He does genuinely feel that he would be able to do it well, but he doesn’t want to rush it, and thus has been hiding behind the Council’s unofficial decision while scouting potential younglings.
Relations:

Kennith Rahn: Rahn helped Kylar develop his skills in Djem So while he was still a Padawan. The two remained friends afterwards, and on occasion exchange messages and share the occasional drink when together and not on duty. Kennith also “helped” him lose some money playing a few friendly games of Pazaak.

Xid Terrik: Both are enthusiasts of things that work with electricity. In his early years as a Knight, Kylar spent some time instructing Xid in the basics of Mechu-Deru and technology. The two connected over their difficulty in connecting with other human beings and in turn their connection with droids and mechs. The two are good friends despite their age difference.

Darth Nyiss: Never encountered the Sith directly, but his master had, and often spoke with something akin to admiration mixed with the distaste about her to his padawan, especially when it came to her ruthless tactics that ended in victory at heavy cost. 

Sish: One of his first campaigns as a Knight pitted him against the Sith Lord indirectly, letting him see what happens when Lord Sish is unleashed upon a foe. He never met the Trandoshan face-to-face, but he knows the Sith Lord’s file by heart, and keeps a keen ear perked for news of him. On some level, he wishes to eventually confront the Sith Lord.

Vebra Mirthios: Served, mostly in a supporting role, but not always, in a handful of their specialized Sith Hunting missions. The two never got to know each other very well, but they are passing acquaintances.

Final Point - Secrets:

When his master refused to take the lightsaber of the Sith that Kylar had killed, he kept it for himself, and he has collected the lightsabers of every Sith that he has killed since. He doesn't feel that the captured weapons are trophies, but more as a representation of a skilled force user, no matter how twisted. He feels that he brings some light to his killed enemies by keeping their memories alive and feels a deep empathy for those that he killed, oddly enough in contrast to how he feels his living friends. This thought hit him in full force when he realized that the Acolyte that he had killed was no older than he was. He maintains his small collection well hidden in his quarters at the Jedi temple, never having had more than two on his person at the same time. His collection was destroyed in the Sith attack on Coruscant.

Ryloth was a difficult world to retain a foothold on. Despite its breathable atmosphere and occasionally beautiful location, there were hundreds of ways that a person could find him or herself permanently lost in its vastness. A world constantly split between the light and the darkness, the utterly uninhabitable side that faced the sun and the equally hostile dark side, facing away. Many Jedi masters had speculated that the planet’s seemingly constant conflict reflected the battle between the light and the dark sides of the force, equally powerful and polar opposites. Two sides of a coin. One could not live without the other, as evidenced from the temperate belt around the planet of habitable land.

Kylar was of the mind that the masters that followed in this line of thinking were wasting time, as was the republic by maintaining relations with this hellhole of a planet.

No, that wasn’t how he thought, not really. The Twi’leks has brought a great deal to the table when they joined the Republic, so much that the queasy bureaucrats and sycophants on Coruscant were more than eager to turn a blind eye to the lazily hidden slave trade that was so deeply ingrained in the planet’s culture. When faced with the actual facts of the slave trade, these same politicians would gasp in horror and make loud promises of change and punishment despite the fact that many of them had their own ‘contracted’ Twi’lek consorts and escorts. The Jedi Padawan found the whole process sickening.

Even so, he was mildly excited to be on his own. When it came to involvement in the war, his master was more than happy to leave Kylar behind on some cruiser or base to study and help in any way that they could. But this was something that had to be dealt with, something that required a Jedi, and the other knights and jedi were occupied with the various battles happening in the North to deal with a simple supply run to one of their many training camps for local militias and armies in training. And Mater Alai had charged him with leading the company through the treacherous tunnel systems to where their Twi’lek base would be found.

On his own. Not the first time, but it was still refreshing to be entrusted with any responsibility. Even if it was mucking through the dank tunnels that he probably been abandoned for years after heat storms had driven the locals to find a more forgiving place to develop, deeper underground. And when the path was underground, there would be no shortcuts, no flying to the destination. It had to be reached with feet on the ground. Mighty trucks rumbled through the cramped tunnels and a few of the republic soldiers followed and led on walkers. Scouts, the cream of the republic's forces. He had been given twelve such men, and a small company of regular footmen, fifty or so, mostly recruits and non-military personnel. Cooks, techies, mechanics, men that would be stationed in the camps anyways. The less men that needed to make the return trip to the surface, the better.

He didn’t like riding in the trucks or the APCs. Cramped and stuffy, more so with him taking up so much space, he preferred walking along the paths that were clearly not made with heavy machinery in mind, than riding with the troops. Despite being deep underground, there was still a good amount of draft that kept him from feeling like he was closed inside a world. Well, there was still the constant pressure of having thousands of tons of rock just waiting to crush them, but he managed to ignore that, for the most part. Kylar rolled his shoulders. He shouldn’t complain. He had been the one pestering Alai… Master Alai for some time in the field without being babysat by his master.

“All’s quiet, sir,” One of the scouts, probably one of the ones that were on a rest period now, said softly as he came closer to the padawan,” Not like the Sith to give us this kind of free range on a place, but I’ll take my luck when it comes.”

Kylar studied the man. Human, with a bit of a blueish hue to his skin and small lumps underneath his thick hair which indicated alien genes, maybe Twi’lek. Would have explained why he was fighting here, anyways. Kylar had always had a difficult time with names, and he couldn’t recall the man’s name for the life of him. He did remember the man introducing himself by name, but damned if the name didn’t just evade his grasp.

“No need to call me sir,” Dammit…” Officer. I’m just a Padawan.”

“Well, we’re always happy to have a Jedi with us on our runs. Not like the Sith to send any of their force-sensitives to interrupt a supply chain, after all. This way, we kinda have an edge off of them with just their regular troopers. There was this time, me and my boys were off near the Utapau system when we…”

He didn’t mean to stop paying attention. He rarely did. Battle stories of yore were of little interest to him, but he usually did a better job at paying attention than he was now. There was always some diamonds of wisdom to be gleaned by learning about battles from a soldier’s perspective, after all.

No, the reason was a bit more… interesting. There was a chill that came with using the Force, for him anyways. It wasn’t awareness, it was a warning about impending violence that was about to befall them. The world chilled, his whole body suddenly went alive with senses, his heart started beating faster, adrenaline rushing through his body in the chilling moment of peaceful serenity before it crashed on them all like a storm.

No time to explain, he mused, his lightsaber springing to his hand, bidden by a small flick of the wrist and the blue blade came to life with a shuddering gasp of burning oxygen and the smell of ozone. To the scout’s credit, he took the warning of imminent danger rather well, his hand immediately picking up the rifle that was hanging loosely at his side. Kylar took a low guard as the world around him slowed, cries of surprise from both his men and the men on the other side as blasters flared, lighting the dimly lit underground quickly. The first few volleys were of surprise and it wasn’t one that they didn’t even come close enough to Kylar for him to return them to sender. The next came along just in time for him to slip in front of his troops, acting as a shield of sorts in the closer quarters. These men had fought with Jedi before. The scout anyways. The non-military personnel had the good sense to scramble for cover and stay there.

Quick, efficient motions, making sure to avoid the elegant and flashy swipes and slashes that Ataru practitioners liked to use, even when they were defending against blasters. His senses told him that the five scouts that remained were already calling back the other seven from wherever they were along the way and the APC lit up as the machine-guns started firing. It wasn’t even a fair fight. Until... 

Another lightsaber lit up. Whoever was wielding it was crazy enough to not reveal him or herself until the last moment, dodging the blaster fire until she was close enough to strike. Definitely a she. A Zabrak too. He first movements immediately recalled the holos that he had seen of Sith practicing the volatile and ruthless Form VII, Joyu. His master had always mocked them, saying that one had to be ruthless and insane, in equal measures, to master the form. As far as Kylar could read, Alai was right.

Why did Alai always have to be right?

The red flickered neatly and quickly for his chest. He arched his back, raising his blade up and over his head to parry the strike in a high stance and, using the way that his body was taut like a bowstring, whiplash for a counterstrike. But the Sith was not interested in maintaining a duel with him, slipping past his guard and promptly beheading the scout directly behind him. Kylar spun to give pursuit, but only after she had taken both arms off of a second scout. He swung as powerfully as he could and missed, forcing her away from the rest of his team, who decided to leave fighting Sith to the Jedi. They didn’t know that this was the first Sith that he had ever faced in single combat. A couple others had been met, but always with his Master’s calming presence nearby. Damn, the Twi’lek’s lightsaber humming managed to be a peaceful sound.

The Zabrak jumped back and whiplashed forward, a flurry of strikes sending Kylar back-pedaling, parrying and defending with no time for attack as he tried to guide her away from his men, who were quickly finishing off what remained of the Sith troops. Thankfully, she now seemed to be fully focused on him.

Power and aggressiveness gave way to efficiency and footwork as Kylar found himself falling back on those years when Alai had tried to get him to learn Form III...

Shit! He ducked quickly and had to power his legs with the force to jump back into a wall as her lightsaber ignited on the other end and spun, barely missing taking his entire face off. His eyebrows were singed, for crying out loud. Focus, Kylar, focus!

He felt his body pulsing from his close brush with death, and he felt… alive. He recalled his master telling him about how man could become addicted to violence, and for the first time, alone and on his own against a very worthy opponent, he could see why. It was exhilarating. What would better though, would be surviving. Yes, that would be good.

She was fast, the Zabrak, and reckless. She closed too fast, sensing victory as she slashed and hammered away at the Jedi with his back to a wall. She had forgotten, in the heat of the moment, that she was much smaller and physically weaker than her human enemy. And Kylar knew how to remedy that. He ducked under a slashing blade and powered forward, propelling himself off the wall, his blade coming in a low thrust. She deflected it but not in time to stop the larger Jedi from crashing into her, his head butting hard against hers.

In the heat of the moment, Kylar forgot just how hard Zabrak heads were. Lessons were learned. He brushed the pain aside with the power of adrenaline and pressed forward, his Djem So now coming to the fore. He moved forward, each step powering a block and a counter-attack, hammering down with hard precision and strength, forcing the Sith back, step by step. She tried to keep on attacking, as a Joyu practitioner’s training never really focused on defense, but found herself before forced back as he countered each attack with a smoothly executed attack of his own. Kylar was more focused than he had ever been. On some level, he registered that the blasterfire had stopped and that his men had won, barely, but his mind was on the task at hand. Every move that he had spent under the tutelage of some instructor or another, came to him as easily as breathing.

Patience was the game, and the Zabrak was losing desperately. She attacked and attacked, rebuffed each time and sent scrambling back to avoid being crushed under powerful blows coming from above. Desperate enough, finally to overstep herself. She feinted with the right side of her blade, spun and tried a sweep to catch Kylar off guard. Kylar caught her blade on his own and slipped past her defense, hammering his elbow into her cheek.

It connected, hard. She stumbled back, almost losing her footing as she stumbled to her knees. Kylar felt the pulse of impending victory and closed in for the kill, feeling the force rush through his hands, almost solidifying with his blade to hammer down against her weakly upraised saberstaff. It came down with a crack not unlike that of thunder that was a bit too close for comfort.

Everything happened so quickly in that single second. She crumpled underneath the force-powered blow, slamming to the floor, almost unconscious, her saberstaff clattering to the ground several feet away from her limp hands. She wasn’t dead, as he could hear her heart still beating with some help from the force, but disarmed and vanquished. And then it hit him

“Oh…. Fuuuuuuuuuuck,” Kylar hissed as the full pain of his shoulder hit him like 6.5 Gs. He could hear his skin and muscles sizzling, cooked well done under the heat of the now off red lightsaber blade. It was… stunning how much it hurt. After the profanity he felt like it was just as much as he could managed to breath as the scorched part of his body sent wave after wave of agony through his entire body. He fell to his knees, closing his eyes. The fight came back to him. Just as his attack came down, she twisted a bit on the knee that was down, deflecting his blade to the side just a bit and tried to spin around to take his head and/or arm off. That’s what it looked like, anyway. As the concussive force blast hit her just in time to deflect her blade away from his neck, but not his shoulder. Not entirely anyways. It took a moment for his mind to register the pain because the nerve endings had been seared. Only a few moments after did his body finally decide that there was something oh-so-terribly wrong.

“Ho… ouch…” Kylar finally managed. His whole body was throbbing with the pain, but he started to cope with it, letting the pain wash over him, taking the waves with each breath… it was difficult, when breathing felt like it was stretching what meat that was left of his shoulder very thinly. Breathe… just let it go. Mind techniques taught by the jedi to handle pain without the customary lashing out in anger. Anger led to hate, after all, and that just would not do.

Keeping the anger in check was going to be difficult, he realized as he gritted his teeth. He hated the force rush now, telling him that everything was not well, and that he was in danger again. Might as well kill him, he mused, but his body and well-honed reflexes had something else to say. His lightsaber, which had turned off, came on again, clutched in a tight fist of his right hand. Conscious thought caught up with his force-honed reflexes, realizing that Zabrak had come to and was calling for her lightsaber, which was now flying towards her outstretched hand. She still looked dazed, almost sleepy. It was entirely possible that she wouldn’t even be able to catch the blade.

His whole body screeched with pain as it twisted to adjust for the fact that he couldn’t use his left hand just now and he slipped on some loose rocks. He lost sight of what his hand was doing as he fought to regain his balance, but he felt it connect with something, go through it, and come out again with a gasp of burning oxygen. He caught his balance just in time to avoid stumbling to the ground, and he looked at what he had done.

She was down now. No heartbeat, not even a putter of her chest moving up and down. She wasn’t unconscious, dazed or surrendering, in the way that he had always imagined his first solo encounter with a Sith would be like. She was missing a portion of her face, starting just under her eyes. Scorched black, the blue lightsaber blade had cut right through those tough bones of hers and right into the front half of her brain. It was a quick death. Some comfort.

She was a Sith. The Enemy. He… was supposed to fight them, but this felt wrong. It wasn’t supposed to end this way. He took a step forward, letting his fingers confirm what he already knew in that piece of his chest that felt empty and hollow. They touched her neck, still warm, but no comforting thob of a living pulse.

“No,” He breathed, the fiery agony that was his shoulder forgotten for the moment as he vainly tried to shake her awake. He could hear a few scouts stepping closer, as he imagined that they thought that, since the blades were no longer clashing or even lit, that it was safe to approach. One of them came closer.

“Holy fuck on Tatooine,” One of them said, peeling open his first aid it and applying what felt like equal parts dry ice and sandpaper to his shoulder,” You need to get to a kolto tank, and fast.”

“I didn’t mean to kill her,” He said, thankfully feeling the topical anesthetics beginning to work their magic,” I slipped. It was an accident, I didn’t mean to…”

“Who the fuck cares?” Said the scout that he had spoke to before the skirmish, seemingly none the worse for wear,” She’s a Sith. Better dead than alive, and an accident doesn’t make her any more or less dead than if you meant it.”

Yes, Kylar thought, picking up her lightsaber with numb fingers. Who cares?

Or more importantly, why the fuck do I care?
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