Click here for lightsabers
  • Home
  • Help
  • Login
  • Register
Pages: [1]   Go Down
Author Topic: We are Gray...  (Read 80 times)
Knight Commander

Force Alignment: 281
Posts: 1353

Light side points please.

« on: August 11, 2017, 12:58:17 PM »

Before I start: I've long been fascinated with the "gray" Jedi.  I may not be in-line with canon, but I wanted to lay out the "rules" as it were that I am using to write what follows.
First, I am looking at the force as a natural phenomenon, not unlike gravity, something we see the effects of and can even manipulate and use to some extent, but not really definable or visible in any real way.
Second, I am writing about characters that view Jedi and Sith as, well, idolaters.  They see both as groups that have personified and deified what is essentially a natural phenomenon. 
Third, I am writing in a time after Order 66 was implemented and before Return of the Jedi.  Beyond that...  ?  Yeah.  I don't have the extensive knowledge of the Star Wars universe I really need to do a really good fanfic, so please forgive continuity errors that might crop up.   I will endeavor to make all people and places totally unrelated to anything that has appeared in canon.
So, with that ... enjoy!


As soon as we broke through the door and charged into the warehouse, we knew we were in trouble.  The sense of the dark twisting through the space was ... sickening.  It dimmed the harmony and blunted the clear melody that sang through us.  That alone was bad.  But then the blades began to appear.

One.  Two.  Three.  Four...  FIVE!?!

I looked over an Arnor.  A glance, nothing more.  Like me, her hands were white-knuckled on her saber hilt.  The ... sith?  What were they?  I shook off the question.  It didn't matter at the moment.  Right now there was only survival or death.  We moved together, back-to-back but spaced far enough that we both had sufficient fighting room.  Our opponents slowly emerged from the shadows, still cloaked. 

"You are foolish to enter, Jedi.  Death awaits you here." croaked the one directly across from Arnor.  "The crystals are ours.  Did you not think we would fight for them?  You will not escape."

Crystals?  What was he talking about?  We were just looking for a way out...

There was another flare in the force, from above.  Melody and Harmony together, singing to me.  Even as I felt it I saw the path and merged my own melody to the newcomers: Counter-point in fugue, working together to reinforce rather than destroy the Melody.  As Master Chillum had taught us - the Jedi were arrogant and mistaken in their mis-guided worship of the force, but at least they heard the music.  The Sith were nothing but chaos and dischord.  We might not agree, but at least with the Jedi we could sing!

Arnor was already moving, vaulting over the ring of Sith (or whoever they were) to reach a better position.  The ring was falling apart as two more Jedi, blue blades already ablaze, landed to my left and front.  My own blade ignited in my hand as I followed Arnor and vaulted out of the circle.  I parried a strike from the sith before me, yellow flashing against red, and joined the duel.

And as always happened in battle, my heart began to sing. 

Song?  Even now, years after beginning my training with Master Chillum, it still amazed me.  How could something so vile as combat fill me with music?  It had taken me far to long to realize that the music was, in my mind, the force itself.  Master Chillum had fleshed the analogy out for me when I had finally found the courage to ask him about it.  The force was like music.  Music, when properly crafted and employed, is beautiful, a construct of melody, harmony and rhythm that reinforces itself.  Choose the wrong notes, the wrong path, and the harmony breaks down, the melody falters, the rhythm is lost.  But choose the right path, the right notes, and the melody soars, the harmony resonates and the rhythm thrives.  But there is no set right or wrong, specifically.  Two artists may start at the same point and find two totally different pathways, both of which will sing, both of which were "right", but which were in the end totally different from each other.  However, there was right and wrong.  Pick the wrong path, and the result was chaos, pain, confusion and death for the melody.  The trick was learning the principles that defined what was right and wrong.

And so, for years, training had been more like a theological debate as Master Chillum taught us the Source of morality, how to define good and evil, right and wrong, and then finally how to apply that to the use of the force, to what he called the Great Song.

And now, as my blade again engaged evil, my heart sang in harmony with my blade.

The man before me (I could now see that he was in fact a man) had only hate.  His eyes were yellow, the sign of one who embraced the Idol of Evil and sought only the hard rhythm of power.  I could feel the drumbeat hammering through him, his style a hard form of Niman as he rained blows on me.  My own flow faltered slightly, but my mind found the trace of the melody and as it usually went I was suddenly calm, the tune open before me, locked in step with Arnor, the two strangers weaving through our harmony in a complex counterpoint of their own.  My blade flashed through the arcs of Sorensu, my own prefrence for Niman subsumed by the Melody of the fight, and I parried blow after blow, always edgeing, always turning slightly, working my opponent toward...

There!  The melody soared and the drumbeat of my opponent suddenly merged with it.   He was furious, his rage rising, and his blows landed harder and harder until I sensed the moment.  The red blade swept down in a massive blow, all of the power of the darkness behind it, a bid to break my own blade or force me down ... and I simply wasn't there.  With a deft move I spun away, to the side, my own blade sweeping in a graceful double arc around me.  The sith had over-committed, and his attempt at a parry was late, resulting in the first sweep severing his sword arm above his elbow.  The second, fatal blow separated his head from his shoulders immediately afterward.

The fight was not over, however.  One of the Jedi was sorely pressed, with two opponents.  His blade moved furiously but he was losing ground steadily.  I could sense that Arnor was nearing the climax of her own melody, her own pure Sorensu driving her opponent to distraction in much the same way mine had, with a similar crescendo approaching.  My path was now with the counter-point.  I vaulted across the room, landing just behind the pair of sith.  A low sweep caught the blade arm of one just at the end of his own long, sweeping strike, severing his hand and disabling his saber in one stroke.  His companion turned and launched a blow at me, which I caught on my own blade.  My block held but the power of that blow staggered me.  I had not sensed how strongly the chaos flowed through this one!  How had I missed it?  And then I realized why: He was also singing.  His own melody was weaving around our counterpoint, opposing it, creating discord, but also strangely in focus none-the-less.  But as the powerful blow landed and drove me to my knees the melody shifted and his focused discord became pure chaos, just before the Jedi blade swept up, severing the Sith's arm at the elbow, then back down, taking his life.

I watched the saber before me fall from the lifeless hand, and reached out.  I felt the melody climax again as I caught the weapon.  It was important.  I did not know why, but these things tended to reveal themselves.  I tucked the saber away and turned to see a proffered hand.  "Thank you, friend."

I took it, rising.  "No, thank you."  I turned to Arnor standing over her opponent, the end of her duel mirroring my own first fight.  The second Jedi, a young man with the long braid of a padawan, was also standing over his opponent.  He was not, however, uninjured.  The senior Jedi was already moving toward him, withdrawing a medical kit.  "Do you require medical assistance?"

The Jedi reached his padawan, who was also looking at the saber burn on his arm.  "Its not deep, Master, just a graze.  My block was a tad slow, I'm afraid."

"So it was.  Here, apply antiseptic and a dressing.  We don't want it to become infected."  The Jedi turned back.  "I am Master Jokan, this is my padawan Illian.  I do not recognize you, are you part of the new Jedi Order?"

Arnor drifted back to my side, cutting a nervous glance my way, but while the counter-point was fading it was not falling into opposition or chaos, just settling into a peaceful harmony.  "We are not.  Our Master, Chillum, was long the guardian of this planet and has taught us the way of the force, but we are not Jedi."

"We are Gray."


More to come!

Sabers I Own:   Aeon V4 Emerald/Obs V4 "Reverse LE",  Dark Ini V4 w/ Obs Lite in FO, Dark Apprentice LE Stunt in FO, Dominix V4 LE w/ Obs Lite in SRD, Sentinel LE Stunt in BR, Dominix V4 Obs Lite in AG.    Wish List:  Scorpion w/ Obsidian V4 and Emerald, Dark Malice Staff w/ Emerald

Karmack: Sentinel of the Red Jedi Order

Pages: [1]   Go Up
Send this topic | Print
Jump to: