Je'gan Olra'en
May 6th, 2004, 05:27:41 PM
A single raindrop watered the little bush from a cloudless sky. Je'gan Olra'en ignored it, smoothing the dirt over the plant's roots and spraying the loosely packed loam with water from his belt canteen. With infinite care, he straightened a crooked stem and stood upright.
This was his sanctuary, an unnamed world of the Outer Rim not far from his home planet of Varunda. Here was a stable if not terribly complex ecosystem. Here was a moderately warm climate, not unlike his homeworld's. Here too, for a little time every now and again, was peace.
He brushed crumbs of dirt from his hands and surveyed the plot. Over an acre square, it was choice ground marred only by over two hundred and fifty small bushes like the one he'd just planted. The next youngest was a few weeks old, no more; the most ancient had assumed its position a mere nine months in the past. The entire plot was surrounded by a picket fence more than sturdy enough to defeat the local herbivores.
His hands migrated to the two hafts on his belt. Azubah, the Forsaken, and Magor, Terror. The second and newer lacked the first's hyperdense saucer hilt, but possessed far better balance and fit his hand superbly. It was a pure Form II weapon rather than a cross between traditional fencing and the esoteric lightsaber discipline; Je'gan had built it to finish his transition between the two styles, and so far it was working perfectly.
Je'gan had never been more dangerous. Form II, Teras Kasi, mentalics enough to control a man's mind, and a penchant for making objects explode.
He also wasn't sure he'd ever hated it more.
A twinge through the Force stole his contentment, spirited it away as if it had never been.
Darksider...here...
This was his sanctuary, an unnamed world of the Outer Rim not far from his home planet of Varunda. Here was a stable if not terribly complex ecosystem. Here was a moderately warm climate, not unlike his homeworld's. Here too, for a little time every now and again, was peace.
He brushed crumbs of dirt from his hands and surveyed the plot. Over an acre square, it was choice ground marred only by over two hundred and fifty small bushes like the one he'd just planted. The next youngest was a few weeks old, no more; the most ancient had assumed its position a mere nine months in the past. The entire plot was surrounded by a picket fence more than sturdy enough to defeat the local herbivores.
His hands migrated to the two hafts on his belt. Azubah, the Forsaken, and Magor, Terror. The second and newer lacked the first's hyperdense saucer hilt, but possessed far better balance and fit his hand superbly. It was a pure Form II weapon rather than a cross between traditional fencing and the esoteric lightsaber discipline; Je'gan had built it to finish his transition between the two styles, and so far it was working perfectly.
Je'gan had never been more dangerous. Form II, Teras Kasi, mentalics enough to control a man's mind, and a penchant for making objects explode.
He also wasn't sure he'd ever hated it more.
A twinge through the Force stole his contentment, spirited it away as if it had never been.
Darksider...here...