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Jax Pavan Respect thread
by Wildbantha88 Sat Jan 03, 2015 2:27 pm
Accolades
It had been torture to resist using the Force―tantamount to the self-amputation of a limb
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights I: Jedi Twilight (Page 35)
He didn't need to lead, just follow. And the two he was following were skilled and trained Jedi.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights I: Jedi Twilight (Page 242)
And then there was Jax. The Jedi was, he had to admit, growing into his role as a hero quit nicely
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights II: Street of Shadows (Page 288)
"You handle a lightsaber well, prey." (Aurra Sing to Jax)
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights II: Street of Shadows (Page 294)
He (Jax) had trained as a Jedi since the age of two; spent years in meditation and study of Jedi history, Jedi philosophy, Jedi strategy. He had spent months and months in combat training, which consisted largely on learning the defensive forms, from Shii-cho to Juyo. He had spent countless hours on mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual control.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force (Page 90)
"Even when Jax pulls the Force across himself like a curtain," she continued, "Its a curtain of amazing depth and nuance. Like...a warm bath, like sun-heated sand beneath your feet, like morning grass at the first touch of the sun or―" She looked up, caught the look on Rhinann's face, and laughed. "I don't do it justice and still you think me overimaginative and overemotional."
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force (Pages 119-120)
He had what he had,―his own native intelligence and creativity, the Force, and that fact that there were other Force-user's in the complex who's Force signatures would provide some camouflage.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 131)
He had left his lightsaber aboard the Lanarth and now regretted it. He could still throw himself over onto the landing platform. He didn't need the weapon to use the Force effectively―something Lanarth had always been at pains to remind him.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 136)
"Your weapons." She held out her hands.
Jax hesitated, then gave them over to her. The hesitation was for show alone. There wasn't a weapon the Jedi wore on his person that could equal the weapon he was.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 171)
"You're a Jedi. Possibly the least of a dead breed. Rare. Unusual. Powerful. I like rare, unusual, powerful things." (Prince Xizor)
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 206)
Martial Arts
Jax Pavan vs Prince Xizor
During this battle Jax has no connection to the Force and cannot call upon it in any way. It is a battle of a non-force sensitive vs a non-force sensitive.
From the weapon's hilt leapt a thin length of supple metal, immediately followed by the proscribed arc wave of an energy field, this one following the length of the metallic cord.
It was a whip. An energy whip. Jax let its bright green length uncoil, then twisted his wrist. The lightwhip's end singed a larger, ragged circle into the floor in response. He snapped it experimentally, sending a running wave down its length. The tip made a satisfying crack!, louder than its wavering hum, as it broke the sound barrier. Jax couldn't even begin to imagine the complexity of the modulation circuitry in the handle.
As part of his training, he'd practiced with lightwhips, but not nearly as often as he'd used a lightsaber. He wasn't nearly as proficient with a whip as he was with a blade. And he wouldn't be getting used to it under the best of conditions.
"Very impressive," Xizor said. "But I think blade trumps whip. In any case, you will forgive me for not being chivalrous enough to let you practice a bit."
With that, Xizor jerked the lightsaber down in front of himself, brought his other hand over the handle, and aimed the tip of the blade at Jax's left eye as he attacked.
Jax backpedalled, trying to buy as much time as he could to get more familiar with the new weapon. It wasn't as elegant as an energy sword, or as powerful, or able to cut through as much, but it did however, have the length advantage―easily twice that of his lightsaber's blade at full extension. The metallic cord's length was also elastic, he found, to a limited degree.
The Falleen brought the blade around and down in an attempt to sever the Jedi's wrist, but Jax blocked it with the thick part of the thong, near the hilt. Xizor recovered, twirling the lightsaber around his wrist.
Jax flicked the lightwhip again, sending a traveling wave down its length, snapping the tip with another supersonic crack! that warned Xizor to keep his distance.
It didn't matter how well versed the Falleen might be with a lightsaber, he told himself. No ordinary humanoid could contend with a Jedi one-on-one and expect to win. Even a true teras kasi adept, harnessing his own inner energy and drawing on decades of honed skill, could hope, at best, for a draw, and there weren't more than a handful of those in all the galaxy.
The prince edged in, corkscrewing to his right, keeping his lightsaber before him. Jas turned slightly, reaching for the Force...
And, once again, he found nothing.
He kept his expression blank, but he could tell by the fierceness of Xizor's grin that the prince had somehow sensed his concern; smelled his fear sweat, most likely. And in that instant Jax realized what at least part of the problem was. All those months of hiding, of constant vigilance to avoid connecting to the Force in any active way, to avoid the possibility of alerting Vader to his presence, had become second nature. And now in the extremity of his need, he couldn't connect.
Over the months he had come to regard the Emperor's minions, especially Vader, as akin to carrion deathbirds, ever circling overhead, their sharp and cold vision catching the slightest movement below. Call on the Force and one of them would know, would swoop down and pluck Jax from the multitude like a single fleck from a vast of them. Even if he was wrong, even if Vader and his myrmidons weren't that constantly watchful, the effect was the same.
Whatever the reason, he couldn't let his inability undo him now. Jax slid his left foot back and turned almost ninety degrees aslant to Xizor. He raised his arm and rotated his wrist, whirling his lightwhip above his head in a circular pattern.
Xizor nodded, as if to acknowledge the move. He turned to his left and began to rotate the lightsaber over his wrist, nimbly switching hands at irregular intervals while moving forward. Jax tensed, waiting for the inevitable moment when his opponent would falter, when he could snap the energy braid forward and flick the blade forward―
Suddenly Xizor ceased the almost hypnotic movement of the blade and leapt over him, tucking and somersaulting while slashing backward.
Jax wouldn't have thought anyone but a Jedi could pull a stunt like that. Frantically he struck up from the circle pattern, wrapping the energy braid around the lightsaber. Blue and green arc waves sparked and sang of conflict, searing the very atoms of the air around them, filling his nostrils with the tang of ozone.
But before he could follow through and yank the lightsaber from Xizor's hand, the prince thumbed off the blade's power. The lightwhip's length dropped, and Jax had to dodge to avoid the deadly lash himself.
Xizor landed and reactivated the blade. From his crouch, Jax swung his arm back in a low arch, then back over his shoulder. The lightwhip sang through the air and wrapped again about the blade. Before Xizor could deactivate the lightsaber again, Jax yanked as hard as he could, pulling Xizor off balance.
The sudden tug was enough to slow Xizor, but not enough to break his one-handed grip. He lunged after as the lightwhip slipped free of the lightsaber, sending more sparks flying. Jax ducked, letting the luminous blade whistle by barely above his head, then dived into a roll as Xizor slashed again, missing him a fingers breadth. He came up, half turned, and, while still moving, snapped his hand around at Xizor. The glowing whip lanced at the Falleen, almost as if it were a hurled spear.
Xizor ducked and spun in a full circle, dropping the blade to chest level as he moved, seeking to bisect Jax. But the Jedi was too fast―he was already in a full backpedal, snapping the lightwhip to cover his retreat. Xizor had to parry the flailing energy line to prevent it from taking an arm off.
Once again Jax reached for the Force, and once again he found only cold vacuum. Evidently, understanding the problem wasn't the same as fixing it. And this was the worst possible situation in which to attempt reconnection: in the midst of battle, overwrought and over worried.
He should not have been so fool hardy as to challenge Prince Xizor. He should have simply had I-Five take him out; the Falleen was fast, but he was little match for a laser-packing droid. Now it was starting to look like this macho posturing was going to doom them all. I-Five was occupied with 10-4TO, and Lanarth was still out of the game.
He heard a noise behind him, but he could not afford to take his eyes off Xizor, who was pacing just outside the lightwhip's reach. The noise grew louder; a popping, tearing sound, which Jax recognized too late as the rending of the reinforce plasteel bolts on the other set of doors. He whirled about just in time to see a wheel-mounted maintenance droid rolling at him, with pieces of jagged scrap metal welded to its chest, extruding like knives.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights I: Jedi Twilight (Pages 313-317)
Jax Pavan vs Sele
The Cathar approached Jax, ignoring Den. "I am Sele," he growled, " I will pull out your tibia and use it to pick my teeth." Snarling, the leader of the Nuknog's bodyguard exposed sharp, white canines.
"Is this anyway to treat customers?" As Jax took a step backwards, his right hand slipped inconspicuously to his waist. "You can't make deals in a hostile atmosphere. Why don't we all take a breath and―"
Letting out a roar that shook the room, Sele reached for Jax with one huge paw. Though the Cathar was faster than one might expect for a creature of such bulk, Jax was considerable more nimble. Dodging to his left, he drew and activated the Velmorian flamesword in a single motion.
The Cathar paused for a moment at this unexpected move; he was, however, completely confident in his ability to subdue any interlopers. Given his strength and size, it was an assurance not misplaced.
But he had, in all probability, never faced a Jedi before.
Sele drew a poniard as long and heavy as the Jedi's leg. Ducking beneath a swing powerful enough to decapitate a reek, Jax leaned forward in a long thrust that sent the tip of the flamesword through the Cathar's fur and a centimeter deep into his thigh. Howling, the bodyguard stepped back and swatted at the smoke rising from his singed fur. When he looked up again, his expression by itself was enough to paralyze a typical opponent.
Now I remember the significance of the headband, Jax thought. It signifies him as the mightiest warrior of his clan. It figures.
Rushing forward, Sele brought the weighty blade of the poniard down in a swipe that would have cut the Jedi in two from crown to crotch―had it landed, which it did not. Dodging right this time, Jax feigned with the flamesword. His adversary sidestepped left; Jax whirled, leapt with the Force's aid, and brought the Velmorian weapon down. Flinching, Sele managed to block the blow, but the overflow from the sword seared a black streak across his right shoulder. For a second time the Cathar howled in pain.
Though he had lightly wounded his opponent twice now, Jax knew that Sele had to land only one of his substantial blows to win the fight. He continued his strategy, using the Force to keep him out of his foe's reach while letting the laws of physics work in his favor. At his mass and size, there was simply no way the Cathar could move as quickly or as nimbly as Jax, even without the Force's aid.
At last, smoldering like a house afire from more than a dozen slashing wounds inflicted by Jax's flamesword, Sele had no choice but to acquiesce to his opponent. The hulking creature bent one leg and bowed his head. He laid the poniard on the floor between them. "By the rules of the Blood Hunt," He said in a throaty growl. "I surrender to you all that I own and all that I am."
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights II: Street of Shadows (Pages 215-217)
Jax vs Aurra Sing
Jax landed on his side, rolled, and came to his feet in a single motion, letting the Force do most of the work. At some point during the move he activated his lightsaber, though he couldn't have said when. The blade―crimson, a remote part of his brain noted―boiled out to its full length in a heartbeat.
Then he was on his feet and facing Aurra Sing.
Though he'd never met her before, her appearance left him with no doubt of her identity. He would have little room for doubt in any case, because her blade was already whistling towards him. It was a green blade, and its glow painted everything the same shade of corroded brass. Everything, that is, except the Twi'lek's green skin―that it rendered the deep gray-green of ripe chee nuts.
Jax had just time enough to register that Lanarth was either grievously wounded or already dead, and that she was directly in the path of the blade's second downward arc, before he lunged in a desperate attempt to block it.
He did, but just barely. The clashing blades crackled, the air rent with ozone, and the two lightsabers rebounded. Sing's blade had been deflected just enough to miss Lanarth. It sheared through the suspended floor of the elevated walkway, cutting supports. Jax backflipped and came down on the still-supported section, his lightsaber ready for another attack.
Behind him, his comrades fell into the abyss.
No time for even the briefest reactions, as Aurra Sing was leaping at him again. Several meters below, an emergency-response tractor field automatically activated by the disintegration of the corridor caught his tumbling companions. They would slow-fall, but he wouldn't have time to watch, he barely had time to breath. She rained down on him a fury of blows almost as vociferous as the oaths and curses that accompanied them.
"Fear me. Jedi! I am Aurra Sing, Nashtah, scourge of your kind! I haunt your darkest dreams! I drink Jedi blood; I nest in their guts! Your nightmares now have a name, hierophant, and that name is Aurra Sing!"
He felt the Force flowing around her. There was considerable might to it, but it was wild and undisciplined and, as such, difficult to anticipate. He'd never felt anything quite like it, and he'd certainly never heard anything like it.
"You'd be the bounty hunter, then." He said.
Hefting her own weapon, the woman grinned a feral grin at him. Externally, she was beautiful; even without an endocrine advantage, she could give Dejah a run for her credits. What Jax sensed within her, however, utterly obliterated any outward impressions. She had an ugly soul.
"You handle a lightsaber well, prey." Suddenly she leaned forward, and her crimson eyes narrowed. Then rage filled them―or at least, he thought, topped off the last little bit of sanity; it's not like there was a whole lot to begin with―and she snarled. "Where did you get that?" She indicated his lightsaber.
He told her the truth: "An acquaintance sent it to me," He shrugged. " I guess he didn't want it anymore."
She came in, and she was incredibly fast; faster than anyone he had ever encountered. Only the Force allowed him to anticipate her reactions; otherwise he would have surely lost limbs in the first minute of action. It was all he could do to parry the hurricane of blows she threw at him: cut-cut-cut-thrust-diagonal-cut―!
He leapt backward to escape, felt the heat of her lightsaber singe his right foot as it cut through his boot and sliced off part of the heel.
Maybe needling her into loosing control wasn't such a good plan after all...
As he flew backwards, Jax slashed behind him with his lightsaber. A newly installed transparasteel plane shattered under the impact of his lightsaber, just in time for him to sail through unharmed. He landed on his feet on the roof.
In an instant Sing followed. She flew through the opening, eyes narrowed, her arms held wide for balance. Her lightsaber was a viridian shaft in the semidarkness.
She cut downward, hard, so fast! Without the Force, he would have been bisected. Instead, before he could think, his body moved on it's own, wrapped in lines of power. Unbidden, his hand snapped up to block her blade with his. Scarlet and emerald lightning blinded them both momentarily. Coupled with the force of her decent, her strike knocked him backwards again, across the roof construction. He nearly fell off the far edge.
Behind him, several massive automata were hard at the business of demolition and construction. At a comfortable control station somewhere, a supervisory sentient was probably kicked back in a formchair, watching as the gigantic machines did all the work. Would he or she glance at the screen, take notice of the fight amid all the heavy work, set down the inevitable cup of caf and notify security? Would the fight even last long enough for help to arrive?
She came at him again. She was fast, strong, and good, but she was also reckless. She had said it herself; her passion was hunting Jedi, not fighting them. She was used to striking hard and fast, a streak of scarlet in the night. She was used to fighting skilled opponents for any length of time.
Jax kept backing away, parrying, letting the Force completely control him. A wrong move and he would be chopped down. His best bet was to wait, to let her wear herself out before attempting to take her down. Assuming her could outlast her. She was humanoid, but not human; their might be different rules for her kind. He was already certain that her fast twitch muscle percentage was higher than his. He was getting tired, and she seemed as fast and strong as when they'd started.
They were along the machines now. Heavy lifters and composite depositors, link checkers, emitters, and synthesizers whirled and hummed and rumbled around them. Sing continued to push him back, back, always back. Jax went with it. He wanted her to be sure that she was winning.
Maybe she was...
At least she's stopped her diatribe. I was beginning to think she was trying to talk me to death.
"No need to die," she said, as if reading his mind. She threw a fast series of chop attacks, none designed to do major damage, but rather to set him up for the killing stroke.
"Really? What do you think your boss plans to do with me? Buy me lunch?"
"Not my concern, Jedi. Surrender now and maybe we can negotiate something with him. Don't, and I kill you now. An iffy future is better than none, don't you agree?"
She charged in without waiting for an answer, and her attack sequence was to fast for him to follow consciously. The Force answered, its strings manipulating his body like a marionette's, but his body would not be able to keep up much longer. Be blocked, counter attacked, was parried, and ducked just in time as she tried to take his head off.
This was not going well. He needed to do something, and soon, or―
Sing was growing impatient. The blasted Jedi refused to capitulate, even though the Force was all that was holding him up at this point.
She wasn't sure how he'd come upon her lightsaber; most likely he'd had an encounter of some sort with Typho. The particulars didn't concern her―she was intent on getting it back, and she wasn't too particular about how. If it meant prying it from the cold, dead fingers of his severed hand, she was sure Lord Vader would understand. But she wanted this to be over, and soon. Her stamina would outlast most humanoid sentients, but when it faded, it faded fast.
Even acknowledging the possibility of failure was not an option. She would defeat this upstart Jedi. Anything else was unthinkable.
Movement out of the corner of his right eye caught Jax's attention. The energy of their lightsabers clashed and sizzled yet again, and he allowed the blow to send him staggering back toward the activity he had sensed. All he had time for was a quick look.
He couldn't fight any harder. He had to fight smarter.
The machine was a large reposticator, or fabber. It chewed up raw material that looked like sand from a hopper, then laid a sheet of translucent plate onto the roof for a hard, weatherproof coater. The hopper had a safety field that glowed a pale blue, to keep things from falling into the raw-materials bin. Wise, because the fabber would ingest anything that fell into it and resurrect the material into it's extrusion.
A desperate plan popped into his head.
He tried a simple attack, a basic, simple Form II series that he had learned early on. Not really much of a threat; the moves were designed as defense against an opposing lightsaber.
Sing did just that, easily blocking the attack. She laughed.
"A defense unworthy of a padawan? Come on, you can do better than that, can't you?"
"Not really," he said. But all he wanted was a little running room, which the move had given him. He turned, sprinted three steps, and leapt with every bit of the Force he could muster, managing to land on the control bar above the fabber, arms windmilling in a charade of seeking balance―
Sing would be right behind him, he knew; he wouldn't even have time to turn and face her, and she would use the field guarding the raw-materials bin as a step before launching into a lunge that would easily unbalance him from his narrow perch.
He felt for her using the Force―
The flashing red button on the control panel was right next to his damaged boot. Jax waited until he felt Sing land on the field―
Then he stepped on the button.
The field shut off.
Sing screamed as she fell into the churning sand. Her ligthsaber cutting a swath of molten energy through it, fusing sand into lumpy green glass―then was snuffed out as she lost her grip on the hilt.
Sing looked up at him as she sank beneath the sand. It churned while it was sucked into the machine. The last he saw of her was a splotch of red hair.
He turned and started toward a nearby drop-tube, realizing that his friends should have reached the ground by now...
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights II: Street of Shadows (Pages 292-298)
Jax vs Inquisitor
Jax didn't have time to think about where Kaj had gone. He met the Inquisitor blade-to-blade in a sizzle of brilliant energy. Within the obscuring cowl of his robe, the Inquisitor's face showed momentary astonishment that the lightsaber locked with his was the same shade of gleaming crimson. His astonishment lasted but an instant. Then he was all business.
He parried Jax's first stroke, but he had leaned away from the attack and put himself at a disadvantage. Jax pushed him back toward the middle of the street in the direction Lanarth had dashed after the second Inquisitor.
This would be a test, he knew, of his raw talent and his training. The Inquisitor's were said to have received advanced instruction from Darth Vader himself, and were rumored to be far more powerful than Jedi by virtue of them not being limited by what they thought of as a pacifist philosophy.
Jax suspected this was little more than propaganda aimed at inspiring fear― the Emperor would hardly care about truth in advertising―but even so, he could feel the tentativeness of his own strokes, as if he were fighting a complete unknown.
He rejected his trepidation. He had fought Aurra Sing and Prince Xizor― he doubted this one could do anything more unexpected or accomplished than those two.
He feinted, his blade meeting the Inquisitor's blade at the hilt. Continuing the movement, he swept it down and around, catching the adept's robes and charring them. Simultaneously, he leapt, using the point where the two lightsabers crossed as a fulcrum. He somersaulted through the air, landing lightly on the far curb. The moment's reprise gave him a chance to look for Kaj. He glanced upward just in time to see the façade of the building housing the apothecary ripple like the surface of a stormy lake. Masonry began to rain down from above, narrowly missing the charging Inquisitor.
Still there was no sign of the boy...
...At first Jax wasn't sure who had fired the volley; then he saw the flutter of scarlet robes among the fallen debris. The Inquisitor who only seconds ago had been charging him had vanished. Taken out by the debris? Unlikely, he was too resourceful for that.
Jax dodged under the overhanging eaves of building behind him, scanning the sidewalk for Lanarth. He saw he just up the street to his left, craning her own neck to see where her opponent had gone. She didn't see him leap from the concealing debris, because she was spinning towards Jax, leaving her own flank exposed.
In an instant to brief to measure, he saw what Lanarth saw―the cloaked figure atop the overhang, lightsaber drawn, preparing to plunge it downward through the duracrete into the top of his head. His reaction was instantaneous: he dodged sideways, shoving his own weapon up through the ledge and raking it sideways with a strength borne of desperation. It parted the duracrete as if it were a dense, heavy liquid. There was an answering shriek of agony from above him.
A split second later he heard Lanarth's blasters fire. He turned and saw her adversary evade the shot, catching one bolt with the blade of his lightsaber and vaulting backward into the street. A large chunk of masonry rolled from atop a heap of rubble to obscure him from view.
Jax somersaulted out from beneath his protective overhang, angling toward Lanarth, but ready to defend against attack from above as well. He rolled to his feet just as the wounded Inquisitor reared up for another attack. His left leg was gone from the knee down, leaving a charred stump, but he was not about to surrender. He loosed a charge of Force-lightning from his free hand and dived at Jax like a stooping raptor.
It was a shrewd move. Jax was forced to parry the lightning with his lightsaber an was out of position to defend against his enemy's blade. Time slowed to glacial speed. Jax knew that if he leapt out of the way, the second Inquisitor , hidden in the rubble on the street, stood a very good chance of striking him down.
He had to take his chances with the lightning.
He dropped to one knee, hoping the Inquisitor wouldn't be able to adjust his flight path. There was a strange, sharp tingle in his Force sense a split second later a thin line of blue-white energy cut through the thick air and made the wisdom of his maneuver academic. The beam severed the Inquisitor's sword arm at the shoulder. The Inquisitor was carried to the ground several feet past Jax on his own momentum. His arm and weapon took their own trajectory.
A second laser beam sliced through the Inquisitor's throat, stopping his howls of pain.
Jax looked to the source of the blasterfire. I-Five stood, gleaming, in the dust and debris, the index finger of his right hand still aimed at the crumbled enemy.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force (Pages 217-221)
Young Jax vs Young Anakin
He remembered the first time he had glimpsed Anakin in a moment of anger, radiating tendrils of blackest night―whipcords of darkness that writhed about him, straining outward.
They had been sparring with their lightsabers andsomething―to this day, Jax wasn't sure what― had transformed the other Jedi from an amicable, if distracted, sparring partner into a driven foe. He had suddenly launched himself at Jax like a berserker, forcing him to parry a swift series of blows that might easily have killed him.
Jax had seen darkness in auras before, but never like that and never in a fellow Padawan. Anakin had appeared―in that moment― to stand at the nexus of a whorl of rage and frustration. He was a black whole― sucking light and color from anything or anyone in his gravitational field.
The moment had passed so swiftly that Jax thought he'd imagined it. He'd been left reeling and confused―and embarrassed when Anakin had broken off the attack, grinned at him, slapped him on the shoulder, and asked, "What's the matter, Jax? Am I too much for you?"
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 92)
Force Powers
Physical augmentation/Strength/Speed:
Jax glanced down at the weapon, saw his distorted image staring back at him from the blade's surface. "Yeah? How do you know th―?"
I-Five suddenly whipped up his left hand, index finger extended, and fired a laser beam at Jax. The laser beam splashed off the ionized fire that suddenly coated the length of the blade, which Jax had automatically raised to block the beam.
"That's how," I-Five said. "The speed of light is just under three hundred kilometers per second. You are currently seven-point-three meters from me. Your Force-augmented anticipatory reflex action obviously is working fine. You just have to let them."
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights II: Street of Shadows (Page 31-32)
He went up; the turbolifts were too slow, so he literally flew up the emergency stairs, touching down on the landings only long enough to change directions for the next leap.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force (Page 158)
This next quote takes place with Jax standing outside of a Force blocking circle of light. Meaning he could not sense it coming and had to react to it on sight. Another thing to note is that the plasticrete walls are built to withstand a metric ton, just to give you an idea of how fast the rod was flying.
Before Jax could shut down the remote, Kaj roared in incoherent rage and let loose an explosion of Force energy. The hapless remote was blown clear out of the circle of light and the duraluminum rod shot straight out at Jax.
If he had not practiced what he'd preached about gauging intention, he would have be skewered. As it was, the rod flew past him, narrowly missing, passing through the exact spot where his heart had been an instant before, and buried itself fifteen centimeters deep in the plastacrete wall of the studio...
..." The good news is nothing leaked out." Jax continued. " I saw what was happening but, but I didn't sense it"
"Lucky you," added Lanarth drily, " If you'd been blindfolded, you'd be dead now."
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force (Page 174 and 175)
In an instant to brief to measure, he saw what Lanarth saw―the cloaked figure atop the overhang, lightsaber drawn, preparing to plunge it downward through the duracrete into the top of his head. His reaction was instantaneous: he dodged sideways, shoving his own weapon up through the ledge and raking it sideways with a strength borne of desperation. It parted the duracrete as if it were a dense, heavy liquid. There was an answering shriek of agony from above him.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force (Page 220)
Jax took two long strides to the desk and slammed both hands down in the center of its braud, vivid surface, scattering flimsies, tablets, and writing utensils. A statuette of a Dathomirian warrior toppled and rolled of the desk and onto the floor, hitting the carpet with a solid thunk!
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 258)
Telekinesis:
The Hutt's "business associates" cleared leather almost simultaneously, no doubt anticipating an easy kill. But their confidence vanished a moment latter, along with their weapons, as Jax made two small, almost negligible gestures. The blasters leapt from the bullyboys' grips and across two meters of air to smack solidly into his own hands. His expression still calm.
"Just like a bunch of muscle-bound spiceheads," He said. "Using blasters against the Force."
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights I: Jedi Twilight (Page 30)
He crossed the last meter of the floor and jumped, hoping Rosta had remembered that they were on the third floor. He used the Force to partially levitate, slowing his fall to a gentle landing, and looked around.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights I: Jedi Twilight (Page 79)
As if operated by some unknown puppeteer, his right hand shot out, palm forward. Xizor was hurled back as if hit by a repulsor beam, to slam against the wall three meters away.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights I: Jedi Twilight (Page 318)
Jax dropped the weapon and extended both hands, palms-out, in a Force strike that hurled three of the stormtroopers back against a wall.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights II: Street of Shadows (Page 11)
Here Vader has just taken a substance called bota that I supposed to increase Force wielders power to near god-like levels. But the bota also made Vader's power unstable so he is unwillingly flinging random blasts of power all over the place. These are not focused strikes.
He had not time to be stunned. He struggled to parry the random blasts, but Vader's instability was roiling the Force so badly, a few blast got though. One was enough to crush the third Inquisitor.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force (Page 275)
Her partner drew her weapon. Jax made a swiping gesture, and the blaster spun away over the banister into the room below. The Zabrak woman went for her weapon next―Jax's clenching fist caused the Force to twist it into an unrecognizable lump.
She flung the useless thing aside and lunged at him. He answered with a Force thrust powerful enough to launch her four meters down the corridor.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 280)
He thrust one hand, stiff-armed, at the door. It ripped from its hinges, blowing inward in a rain of wood dust and plaster.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 280)
One gesture tore the tapestry from the wall and flung it into a corner; another shoved the inner door aside, making its machinery scream.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 280)
Then he whipped around, free-hand extended, generating Force thrust that swept every surface in the room, reacting a storm of flying objects. The hail of glass, metal, and wood pelted the guards who were even now rushing in through the unblocked office door.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 284)
Jax spun, thrusting with both hands. The barred window exploded outward over the street below, taking a large chunk of the wall with it.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Pages 284-285)
Telepathy:
He continued to use the Force to aid his survival in subtle ways, from winning credits by manipulating sabacc games to "suggesting" that local street vendors and restaurants supply him with food.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights I: Jedi Twilight (Page 33)
"Please announce Jedi Jax Pavan and Paladin Lanarth Tarak," He said. Though he was looking straight ahead he could feel her wariness. He touched her mind subtly with the Force, reassuring her without words.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights I: Jedi Twilight (Page 130)
"Its best if we all go our own ways," He said in a soothing tone while he made the mesmerizing gestures of the mental snare that had so often gotten him out of ticklish situations since the destruction of the Jedi Order.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights I: Jedi Twilight (Page 195)
Jax felt Kaj's presence on the other side of the door to his room, felt the chill spikes of his sudden fear. He spilt his attention, sending the youth calming thoughts.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force (Page 104)
Jax wished he would just go away, but he refused to use the Force for such a petty manipulation.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force (Page 147)
Jax met the question with the most subtle tendril of the Force possible.
"I've been on this duty for months. I carry the most important dispatches. You've seen me here before."
The man looked up into Jax's eyes and frowned. "Wait, I know you. I've seen you here before."
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 128)
He chose several other points of enlightenment― a treatise on healing, acquired from Jedi long dead, another on the sort of Force cloaking he'd stumbled upon while meditating on the Miisai tree, another by an ancient Jedi Master on the nature of the Force, another on Force communications, yet another on something Darth Ramage called "tunneling", which allowed the Force user to so tightly that he touched nothing but the target of his focus.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 378)
Time Manipulation:
He saw time not as a stream, but as a vast ocean teeming with myriad currents. On its deceptively placid surface, islands bobbed. The first thing that he understood about the islands is that they were not all alike. Some extended their roots to the floor of the ocean; some floated freely. There were fixed points―nexuses―and floating points that drifted about them.
The second thing he understood about these "islands" is that they did not march in a straight line. Indeed, they were not all even held by the same currents. How, then, did one move them or move among them?
Islands move not, unless the currents move them.
The assertion―embedded in his knew knowledge― brought Jax up short. It had the texture of one of Aoloiloa's mystical pronunciations.
The moment the thought flickered through his mind, Jax knew with horrible certainty that Darth Ramage's knowledge of time manipulation had come at the expense of Cephalon lives and minds. Hundreds, if not thousands of them.
Separation destroys us.
He could feel the echoes of agony in the interstices between visualization and articulation. Darth Ramage had ripped this perception of time in its extended dimensions from the minds of Cephalon victims, but in doing so, he had cut them off from their network of joint consciousness, leaving the individuals horrifically alone, isolated in the vast temporal sea.
Aoloiloa must known seen this. Had he foreseen that knowledge would be useful to Jax? Or had he forseen something else― someone else that much information might be useful to?
If Jax, in possession of this knowledge, fell into Darth Vader's hands― into the Emperor's hands― what then?
Jax pulled his consciousness away from the knowledge― but it was to late, of course. It was fixed in him like a red, hot star. He closed his eyes and the library vanished.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Pages 379-380)
She entered the chamber and turned to face the Jedi.
"Was that teleportation?"
He shook his head. "No. Projection. That was one of the things Darth Ramage was experimenting with―using a Force projection to make it seem that he was somewhere he was not. Which, I suppose, opens up all kinds of new possibilities about the stories of his demise."
"So you were in here, projecting the version of you that came out to speak to me. But you didn't seem to hear what I said to you. You didn't answer my question."
"I didn't hear your question, Magash, because I wasn't in here projecting that at the same time as you were seeing it. I wa speaking to Mother Djo."
Magash felt as if there were wool in her head. "I don't understand."
"It was an autonomous projection. I preprogrammed it, I guess you could say, to do exactly what it did. Beyond that..." He shook his head―wearily, Magash thought.
"But still, wouldn't it have required you to be projecting while I was seeing it?"
"No, because of something else Darth Ramage was experimenting with: time manipulation."
It had been torture to resist using the Force―tantamount to the self-amputation of a limb
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights I: Jedi Twilight (Page 35)
He didn't need to lead, just follow. And the two he was following were skilled and trained Jedi.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights I: Jedi Twilight (Page 242)
And then there was Jax. The Jedi was, he had to admit, growing into his role as a hero quit nicely
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights II: Street of Shadows (Page 288)
"You handle a lightsaber well, prey." (Aurra Sing to Jax)
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights II: Street of Shadows (Page 294)
He (Jax) had trained as a Jedi since the age of two; spent years in meditation and study of Jedi history, Jedi philosophy, Jedi strategy. He had spent months and months in combat training, which consisted largely on learning the defensive forms, from Shii-cho to Juyo. He had spent countless hours on mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual control.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force (Page 90)
"Even when Jax pulls the Force across himself like a curtain," she continued, "Its a curtain of amazing depth and nuance. Like...a warm bath, like sun-heated sand beneath your feet, like morning grass at the first touch of the sun or―" She looked up, caught the look on Rhinann's face, and laughed. "I don't do it justice and still you think me overimaginative and overemotional."
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force (Pages 119-120)
He had what he had,―his own native intelligence and creativity, the Force, and that fact that there were other Force-user's in the complex who's Force signatures would provide some camouflage.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 131)
He had left his lightsaber aboard the Lanarth and now regretted it. He could still throw himself over onto the landing platform. He didn't need the weapon to use the Force effectively―something Lanarth had always been at pains to remind him.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 136)
"Your weapons." She held out her hands.
Jax hesitated, then gave them over to her. The hesitation was for show alone. There wasn't a weapon the Jedi wore on his person that could equal the weapon he was.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 171)
"You're a Jedi. Possibly the least of a dead breed. Rare. Unusual. Powerful. I like rare, unusual, powerful things." (Prince Xizor)
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 206)
Martial Arts
Jax Pavan vs Prince Xizor
During this battle Jax has no connection to the Force and cannot call upon it in any way. It is a battle of a non-force sensitive vs a non-force sensitive.
From the weapon's hilt leapt a thin length of supple metal, immediately followed by the proscribed arc wave of an energy field, this one following the length of the metallic cord.
It was a whip. An energy whip. Jax let its bright green length uncoil, then twisted his wrist. The lightwhip's end singed a larger, ragged circle into the floor in response. He snapped it experimentally, sending a running wave down its length. The tip made a satisfying crack!, louder than its wavering hum, as it broke the sound barrier. Jax couldn't even begin to imagine the complexity of the modulation circuitry in the handle.
As part of his training, he'd practiced with lightwhips, but not nearly as often as he'd used a lightsaber. He wasn't nearly as proficient with a whip as he was with a blade. And he wouldn't be getting used to it under the best of conditions.
"Very impressive," Xizor said. "But I think blade trumps whip. In any case, you will forgive me for not being chivalrous enough to let you practice a bit."
With that, Xizor jerked the lightsaber down in front of himself, brought his other hand over the handle, and aimed the tip of the blade at Jax's left eye as he attacked.
Jax backpedalled, trying to buy as much time as he could to get more familiar with the new weapon. It wasn't as elegant as an energy sword, or as powerful, or able to cut through as much, but it did however, have the length advantage―easily twice that of his lightsaber's blade at full extension. The metallic cord's length was also elastic, he found, to a limited degree.
The Falleen brought the blade around and down in an attempt to sever the Jedi's wrist, but Jax blocked it with the thick part of the thong, near the hilt. Xizor recovered, twirling the lightsaber around his wrist.
Jax flicked the lightwhip again, sending a traveling wave down its length, snapping the tip with another supersonic crack! that warned Xizor to keep his distance.
It didn't matter how well versed the Falleen might be with a lightsaber, he told himself. No ordinary humanoid could contend with a Jedi one-on-one and expect to win. Even a true teras kasi adept, harnessing his own inner energy and drawing on decades of honed skill, could hope, at best, for a draw, and there weren't more than a handful of those in all the galaxy.
The prince edged in, corkscrewing to his right, keeping his lightsaber before him. Jas turned slightly, reaching for the Force...
And, once again, he found nothing.
He kept his expression blank, but he could tell by the fierceness of Xizor's grin that the prince had somehow sensed his concern; smelled his fear sweat, most likely. And in that instant Jax realized what at least part of the problem was. All those months of hiding, of constant vigilance to avoid connecting to the Force in any active way, to avoid the possibility of alerting Vader to his presence, had become second nature. And now in the extremity of his need, he couldn't connect.
Over the months he had come to regard the Emperor's minions, especially Vader, as akin to carrion deathbirds, ever circling overhead, their sharp and cold vision catching the slightest movement below. Call on the Force and one of them would know, would swoop down and pluck Jax from the multitude like a single fleck from a vast of them. Even if he was wrong, even if Vader and his myrmidons weren't that constantly watchful, the effect was the same.
Whatever the reason, he couldn't let his inability undo him now. Jax slid his left foot back and turned almost ninety degrees aslant to Xizor. He raised his arm and rotated his wrist, whirling his lightwhip above his head in a circular pattern.
Xizor nodded, as if to acknowledge the move. He turned to his left and began to rotate the lightsaber over his wrist, nimbly switching hands at irregular intervals while moving forward. Jax tensed, waiting for the inevitable moment when his opponent would falter, when he could snap the energy braid forward and flick the blade forward―
Suddenly Xizor ceased the almost hypnotic movement of the blade and leapt over him, tucking and somersaulting while slashing backward.
Jax wouldn't have thought anyone but a Jedi could pull a stunt like that. Frantically he struck up from the circle pattern, wrapping the energy braid around the lightsaber. Blue and green arc waves sparked and sang of conflict, searing the very atoms of the air around them, filling his nostrils with the tang of ozone.
But before he could follow through and yank the lightsaber from Xizor's hand, the prince thumbed off the blade's power. The lightwhip's length dropped, and Jax had to dodge to avoid the deadly lash himself.
Xizor landed and reactivated the blade. From his crouch, Jax swung his arm back in a low arch, then back over his shoulder. The lightwhip sang through the air and wrapped again about the blade. Before Xizor could deactivate the lightsaber again, Jax yanked as hard as he could, pulling Xizor off balance.
The sudden tug was enough to slow Xizor, but not enough to break his one-handed grip. He lunged after as the lightwhip slipped free of the lightsaber, sending more sparks flying. Jax ducked, letting the luminous blade whistle by barely above his head, then dived into a roll as Xizor slashed again, missing him a fingers breadth. He came up, half turned, and, while still moving, snapped his hand around at Xizor. The glowing whip lanced at the Falleen, almost as if it were a hurled spear.
Xizor ducked and spun in a full circle, dropping the blade to chest level as he moved, seeking to bisect Jax. But the Jedi was too fast―he was already in a full backpedal, snapping the lightwhip to cover his retreat. Xizor had to parry the flailing energy line to prevent it from taking an arm off.
Once again Jax reached for the Force, and once again he found only cold vacuum. Evidently, understanding the problem wasn't the same as fixing it. And this was the worst possible situation in which to attempt reconnection: in the midst of battle, overwrought and over worried.
He should not have been so fool hardy as to challenge Prince Xizor. He should have simply had I-Five take him out; the Falleen was fast, but he was little match for a laser-packing droid. Now it was starting to look like this macho posturing was going to doom them all. I-Five was occupied with 10-4TO, and Lanarth was still out of the game.
He heard a noise behind him, but he could not afford to take his eyes off Xizor, who was pacing just outside the lightwhip's reach. The noise grew louder; a popping, tearing sound, which Jax recognized too late as the rending of the reinforce plasteel bolts on the other set of doors. He whirled about just in time to see a wheel-mounted maintenance droid rolling at him, with pieces of jagged scrap metal welded to its chest, extruding like knives.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights I: Jedi Twilight (Pages 313-317)
Jax Pavan vs Sele
The Cathar approached Jax, ignoring Den. "I am Sele," he growled, " I will pull out your tibia and use it to pick my teeth." Snarling, the leader of the Nuknog's bodyguard exposed sharp, white canines.
"Is this anyway to treat customers?" As Jax took a step backwards, his right hand slipped inconspicuously to his waist. "You can't make deals in a hostile atmosphere. Why don't we all take a breath and―"
Letting out a roar that shook the room, Sele reached for Jax with one huge paw. Though the Cathar was faster than one might expect for a creature of such bulk, Jax was considerable more nimble. Dodging to his left, he drew and activated the Velmorian flamesword in a single motion.
The Cathar paused for a moment at this unexpected move; he was, however, completely confident in his ability to subdue any interlopers. Given his strength and size, it was an assurance not misplaced.
But he had, in all probability, never faced a Jedi before.
Sele drew a poniard as long and heavy as the Jedi's leg. Ducking beneath a swing powerful enough to decapitate a reek, Jax leaned forward in a long thrust that sent the tip of the flamesword through the Cathar's fur and a centimeter deep into his thigh. Howling, the bodyguard stepped back and swatted at the smoke rising from his singed fur. When he looked up again, his expression by itself was enough to paralyze a typical opponent.
Now I remember the significance of the headband, Jax thought. It signifies him as the mightiest warrior of his clan. It figures.
Rushing forward, Sele brought the weighty blade of the poniard down in a swipe that would have cut the Jedi in two from crown to crotch―had it landed, which it did not. Dodging right this time, Jax feigned with the flamesword. His adversary sidestepped left; Jax whirled, leapt with the Force's aid, and brought the Velmorian weapon down. Flinching, Sele managed to block the blow, but the overflow from the sword seared a black streak across his right shoulder. For a second time the Cathar howled in pain.
Though he had lightly wounded his opponent twice now, Jax knew that Sele had to land only one of his substantial blows to win the fight. He continued his strategy, using the Force to keep him out of his foe's reach while letting the laws of physics work in his favor. At his mass and size, there was simply no way the Cathar could move as quickly or as nimbly as Jax, even without the Force's aid.
At last, smoldering like a house afire from more than a dozen slashing wounds inflicted by Jax's flamesword, Sele had no choice but to acquiesce to his opponent. The hulking creature bent one leg and bowed his head. He laid the poniard on the floor between them. "By the rules of the Blood Hunt," He said in a throaty growl. "I surrender to you all that I own and all that I am."
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights II: Street of Shadows (Pages 215-217)
Jax vs Aurra Sing
Jax landed on his side, rolled, and came to his feet in a single motion, letting the Force do most of the work. At some point during the move he activated his lightsaber, though he couldn't have said when. The blade―crimson, a remote part of his brain noted―boiled out to its full length in a heartbeat.
Then he was on his feet and facing Aurra Sing.
Though he'd never met her before, her appearance left him with no doubt of her identity. He would have little room for doubt in any case, because her blade was already whistling towards him. It was a green blade, and its glow painted everything the same shade of corroded brass. Everything, that is, except the Twi'lek's green skin―that it rendered the deep gray-green of ripe chee nuts.
Jax had just time enough to register that Lanarth was either grievously wounded or already dead, and that she was directly in the path of the blade's second downward arc, before he lunged in a desperate attempt to block it.
He did, but just barely. The clashing blades crackled, the air rent with ozone, and the two lightsabers rebounded. Sing's blade had been deflected just enough to miss Lanarth. It sheared through the suspended floor of the elevated walkway, cutting supports. Jax backflipped and came down on the still-supported section, his lightsaber ready for another attack.
Behind him, his comrades fell into the abyss.
No time for even the briefest reactions, as Aurra Sing was leaping at him again. Several meters below, an emergency-response tractor field automatically activated by the disintegration of the corridor caught his tumbling companions. They would slow-fall, but he wouldn't have time to watch, he barely had time to breath. She rained down on him a fury of blows almost as vociferous as the oaths and curses that accompanied them.
"Fear me. Jedi! I am Aurra Sing, Nashtah, scourge of your kind! I haunt your darkest dreams! I drink Jedi blood; I nest in their guts! Your nightmares now have a name, hierophant, and that name is Aurra Sing!"
He felt the Force flowing around her. There was considerable might to it, but it was wild and undisciplined and, as such, difficult to anticipate. He'd never felt anything quite like it, and he'd certainly never heard anything like it.
"You'd be the bounty hunter, then." He said.
Hefting her own weapon, the woman grinned a feral grin at him. Externally, she was beautiful; even without an endocrine advantage, she could give Dejah a run for her credits. What Jax sensed within her, however, utterly obliterated any outward impressions. She had an ugly soul.
"You handle a lightsaber well, prey." Suddenly she leaned forward, and her crimson eyes narrowed. Then rage filled them―or at least, he thought, topped off the last little bit of sanity; it's not like there was a whole lot to begin with―and she snarled. "Where did you get that?" She indicated his lightsaber.
He told her the truth: "An acquaintance sent it to me," He shrugged. " I guess he didn't want it anymore."
She came in, and she was incredibly fast; faster than anyone he had ever encountered. Only the Force allowed him to anticipate her reactions; otherwise he would have surely lost limbs in the first minute of action. It was all he could do to parry the hurricane of blows she threw at him: cut-cut-cut-thrust-diagonal-cut―!
He leapt backward to escape, felt the heat of her lightsaber singe his right foot as it cut through his boot and sliced off part of the heel.
Maybe needling her into loosing control wasn't such a good plan after all...
As he flew backwards, Jax slashed behind him with his lightsaber. A newly installed transparasteel plane shattered under the impact of his lightsaber, just in time for him to sail through unharmed. He landed on his feet on the roof.
In an instant Sing followed. She flew through the opening, eyes narrowed, her arms held wide for balance. Her lightsaber was a viridian shaft in the semidarkness.
She cut downward, hard, so fast! Without the Force, he would have been bisected. Instead, before he could think, his body moved on it's own, wrapped in lines of power. Unbidden, his hand snapped up to block her blade with his. Scarlet and emerald lightning blinded them both momentarily. Coupled with the force of her decent, her strike knocked him backwards again, across the roof construction. He nearly fell off the far edge.
Behind him, several massive automata were hard at the business of demolition and construction. At a comfortable control station somewhere, a supervisory sentient was probably kicked back in a formchair, watching as the gigantic machines did all the work. Would he or she glance at the screen, take notice of the fight amid all the heavy work, set down the inevitable cup of caf and notify security? Would the fight even last long enough for help to arrive?
She came at him again. She was fast, strong, and good, but she was also reckless. She had said it herself; her passion was hunting Jedi, not fighting them. She was used to striking hard and fast, a streak of scarlet in the night. She was used to fighting skilled opponents for any length of time.
Jax kept backing away, parrying, letting the Force completely control him. A wrong move and he would be chopped down. His best bet was to wait, to let her wear herself out before attempting to take her down. Assuming her could outlast her. She was humanoid, but not human; their might be different rules for her kind. He was already certain that her fast twitch muscle percentage was higher than his. He was getting tired, and she seemed as fast and strong as when they'd started.
They were along the machines now. Heavy lifters and composite depositors, link checkers, emitters, and synthesizers whirled and hummed and rumbled around them. Sing continued to push him back, back, always back. Jax went with it. He wanted her to be sure that she was winning.
Maybe she was...
At least she's stopped her diatribe. I was beginning to think she was trying to talk me to death.
"No need to die," she said, as if reading his mind. She threw a fast series of chop attacks, none designed to do major damage, but rather to set him up for the killing stroke.
"Really? What do you think your boss plans to do with me? Buy me lunch?"
"Not my concern, Jedi. Surrender now and maybe we can negotiate something with him. Don't, and I kill you now. An iffy future is better than none, don't you agree?"
She charged in without waiting for an answer, and her attack sequence was to fast for him to follow consciously. The Force answered, its strings manipulating his body like a marionette's, but his body would not be able to keep up much longer. Be blocked, counter attacked, was parried, and ducked just in time as she tried to take his head off.
This was not going well. He needed to do something, and soon, or―
Sing was growing impatient. The blasted Jedi refused to capitulate, even though the Force was all that was holding him up at this point.
She wasn't sure how he'd come upon her lightsaber; most likely he'd had an encounter of some sort with Typho. The particulars didn't concern her―she was intent on getting it back, and she wasn't too particular about how. If it meant prying it from the cold, dead fingers of his severed hand, she was sure Lord Vader would understand. But she wanted this to be over, and soon. Her stamina would outlast most humanoid sentients, but when it faded, it faded fast.
Even acknowledging the possibility of failure was not an option. She would defeat this upstart Jedi. Anything else was unthinkable.
Movement out of the corner of his right eye caught Jax's attention. The energy of their lightsabers clashed and sizzled yet again, and he allowed the blow to send him staggering back toward the activity he had sensed. All he had time for was a quick look.
He couldn't fight any harder. He had to fight smarter.
The machine was a large reposticator, or fabber. It chewed up raw material that looked like sand from a hopper, then laid a sheet of translucent plate onto the roof for a hard, weatherproof coater. The hopper had a safety field that glowed a pale blue, to keep things from falling into the raw-materials bin. Wise, because the fabber would ingest anything that fell into it and resurrect the material into it's extrusion.
A desperate plan popped into his head.
He tried a simple attack, a basic, simple Form II series that he had learned early on. Not really much of a threat; the moves were designed as defense against an opposing lightsaber.
Sing did just that, easily blocking the attack. She laughed.
"A defense unworthy of a padawan? Come on, you can do better than that, can't you?"
"Not really," he said. But all he wanted was a little running room, which the move had given him. He turned, sprinted three steps, and leapt with every bit of the Force he could muster, managing to land on the control bar above the fabber, arms windmilling in a charade of seeking balance―
Sing would be right behind him, he knew; he wouldn't even have time to turn and face her, and she would use the field guarding the raw-materials bin as a step before launching into a lunge that would easily unbalance him from his narrow perch.
He felt for her using the Force―
The flashing red button on the control panel was right next to his damaged boot. Jax waited until he felt Sing land on the field―
Then he stepped on the button.
The field shut off.
Sing screamed as she fell into the churning sand. Her ligthsaber cutting a swath of molten energy through it, fusing sand into lumpy green glass―then was snuffed out as she lost her grip on the hilt.
Sing looked up at him as she sank beneath the sand. It churned while it was sucked into the machine. The last he saw of her was a splotch of red hair.
He turned and started toward a nearby drop-tube, realizing that his friends should have reached the ground by now...
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights II: Street of Shadows (Pages 292-298)
Jax vs Inquisitor
Jax didn't have time to think about where Kaj had gone. He met the Inquisitor blade-to-blade in a sizzle of brilliant energy. Within the obscuring cowl of his robe, the Inquisitor's face showed momentary astonishment that the lightsaber locked with his was the same shade of gleaming crimson. His astonishment lasted but an instant. Then he was all business.
He parried Jax's first stroke, but he had leaned away from the attack and put himself at a disadvantage. Jax pushed him back toward the middle of the street in the direction Lanarth had dashed after the second Inquisitor.
This would be a test, he knew, of his raw talent and his training. The Inquisitor's were said to have received advanced instruction from Darth Vader himself, and were rumored to be far more powerful than Jedi by virtue of them not being limited by what they thought of as a pacifist philosophy.
Jax suspected this was little more than propaganda aimed at inspiring fear― the Emperor would hardly care about truth in advertising―but even so, he could feel the tentativeness of his own strokes, as if he were fighting a complete unknown.
He rejected his trepidation. He had fought Aurra Sing and Prince Xizor― he doubted this one could do anything more unexpected or accomplished than those two.
He feinted, his blade meeting the Inquisitor's blade at the hilt. Continuing the movement, he swept it down and around, catching the adept's robes and charring them. Simultaneously, he leapt, using the point where the two lightsabers crossed as a fulcrum. He somersaulted through the air, landing lightly on the far curb. The moment's reprise gave him a chance to look for Kaj. He glanced upward just in time to see the façade of the building housing the apothecary ripple like the surface of a stormy lake. Masonry began to rain down from above, narrowly missing the charging Inquisitor.
Still there was no sign of the boy...
...At first Jax wasn't sure who had fired the volley; then he saw the flutter of scarlet robes among the fallen debris. The Inquisitor who only seconds ago had been charging him had vanished. Taken out by the debris? Unlikely, he was too resourceful for that.
Jax dodged under the overhanging eaves of building behind him, scanning the sidewalk for Lanarth. He saw he just up the street to his left, craning her own neck to see where her opponent had gone. She didn't see him leap from the concealing debris, because she was spinning towards Jax, leaving her own flank exposed.
In an instant to brief to measure, he saw what Lanarth saw―the cloaked figure atop the overhang, lightsaber drawn, preparing to plunge it downward through the duracrete into the top of his head. His reaction was instantaneous: he dodged sideways, shoving his own weapon up through the ledge and raking it sideways with a strength borne of desperation. It parted the duracrete as if it were a dense, heavy liquid. There was an answering shriek of agony from above him.
A split second later he heard Lanarth's blasters fire. He turned and saw her adversary evade the shot, catching one bolt with the blade of his lightsaber and vaulting backward into the street. A large chunk of masonry rolled from atop a heap of rubble to obscure him from view.
Jax somersaulted out from beneath his protective overhang, angling toward Lanarth, but ready to defend against attack from above as well. He rolled to his feet just as the wounded Inquisitor reared up for another attack. His left leg was gone from the knee down, leaving a charred stump, but he was not about to surrender. He loosed a charge of Force-lightning from his free hand and dived at Jax like a stooping raptor.
It was a shrewd move. Jax was forced to parry the lightning with his lightsaber an was out of position to defend against his enemy's blade. Time slowed to glacial speed. Jax knew that if he leapt out of the way, the second Inquisitor , hidden in the rubble on the street, stood a very good chance of striking him down.
He had to take his chances with the lightning.
He dropped to one knee, hoping the Inquisitor wouldn't be able to adjust his flight path. There was a strange, sharp tingle in his Force sense a split second later a thin line of blue-white energy cut through the thick air and made the wisdom of his maneuver academic. The beam severed the Inquisitor's sword arm at the shoulder. The Inquisitor was carried to the ground several feet past Jax on his own momentum. His arm and weapon took their own trajectory.
A second laser beam sliced through the Inquisitor's throat, stopping his howls of pain.
Jax looked to the source of the blasterfire. I-Five stood, gleaming, in the dust and debris, the index finger of his right hand still aimed at the crumbled enemy.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force (Pages 217-221)
Young Jax vs Young Anakin
He remembered the first time he had glimpsed Anakin in a moment of anger, radiating tendrils of blackest night―whipcords of darkness that writhed about him, straining outward.
They had been sparring with their lightsabers andsomething―to this day, Jax wasn't sure what― had transformed the other Jedi from an amicable, if distracted, sparring partner into a driven foe. He had suddenly launched himself at Jax like a berserker, forcing him to parry a swift series of blows that might easily have killed him.
Jax had seen darkness in auras before, but never like that and never in a fellow Padawan. Anakin had appeared―in that moment― to stand at the nexus of a whorl of rage and frustration. He was a black whole― sucking light and color from anything or anyone in his gravitational field.
The moment had passed so swiftly that Jax thought he'd imagined it. He'd been left reeling and confused―and embarrassed when Anakin had broken off the attack, grinned at him, slapped him on the shoulder, and asked, "What's the matter, Jax? Am I too much for you?"
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 92)
Force Powers
Physical augmentation/Strength/Speed:
Jax glanced down at the weapon, saw his distorted image staring back at him from the blade's surface. "Yeah? How do you know th―?"
I-Five suddenly whipped up his left hand, index finger extended, and fired a laser beam at Jax. The laser beam splashed off the ionized fire that suddenly coated the length of the blade, which Jax had automatically raised to block the beam.
"That's how," I-Five said. "The speed of light is just under three hundred kilometers per second. You are currently seven-point-three meters from me. Your Force-augmented anticipatory reflex action obviously is working fine. You just have to let them."
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights II: Street of Shadows (Page 31-32)
He went up; the turbolifts were too slow, so he literally flew up the emergency stairs, touching down on the landings only long enough to change directions for the next leap.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force (Page 158)
This next quote takes place with Jax standing outside of a Force blocking circle of light. Meaning he could not sense it coming and had to react to it on sight. Another thing to note is that the plasticrete walls are built to withstand a metric ton, just to give you an idea of how fast the rod was flying.
Before Jax could shut down the remote, Kaj roared in incoherent rage and let loose an explosion of Force energy. The hapless remote was blown clear out of the circle of light and the duraluminum rod shot straight out at Jax.
If he had not practiced what he'd preached about gauging intention, he would have be skewered. As it was, the rod flew past him, narrowly missing, passing through the exact spot where his heart had been an instant before, and buried itself fifteen centimeters deep in the plastacrete wall of the studio...
..." The good news is nothing leaked out." Jax continued. " I saw what was happening but, but I didn't sense it"
"Lucky you," added Lanarth drily, " If you'd been blindfolded, you'd be dead now."
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force (Page 174 and 175)
In an instant to brief to measure, he saw what Lanarth saw―the cloaked figure atop the overhang, lightsaber drawn, preparing to plunge it downward through the duracrete into the top of his head. His reaction was instantaneous: he dodged sideways, shoving his own weapon up through the ledge and raking it sideways with a strength borne of desperation. It parted the duracrete as if it were a dense, heavy liquid. There was an answering shriek of agony from above him.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force (Page 220)
Jax took two long strides to the desk and slammed both hands down in the center of its braud, vivid surface, scattering flimsies, tablets, and writing utensils. A statuette of a Dathomirian warrior toppled and rolled of the desk and onto the floor, hitting the carpet with a solid thunk!
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 258)
Telekinesis:
The Hutt's "business associates" cleared leather almost simultaneously, no doubt anticipating an easy kill. But their confidence vanished a moment latter, along with their weapons, as Jax made two small, almost negligible gestures. The blasters leapt from the bullyboys' grips and across two meters of air to smack solidly into his own hands. His expression still calm.
"Just like a bunch of muscle-bound spiceheads," He said. "Using blasters against the Force."
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights I: Jedi Twilight (Page 30)
He crossed the last meter of the floor and jumped, hoping Rosta had remembered that they were on the third floor. He used the Force to partially levitate, slowing his fall to a gentle landing, and looked around.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights I: Jedi Twilight (Page 79)
As if operated by some unknown puppeteer, his right hand shot out, palm forward. Xizor was hurled back as if hit by a repulsor beam, to slam against the wall three meters away.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights I: Jedi Twilight (Page 318)
Jax dropped the weapon and extended both hands, palms-out, in a Force strike that hurled three of the stormtroopers back against a wall.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights II: Street of Shadows (Page 11)
Here Vader has just taken a substance called bota that I supposed to increase Force wielders power to near god-like levels. But the bota also made Vader's power unstable so he is unwillingly flinging random blasts of power all over the place. These are not focused strikes.
He had not time to be stunned. He struggled to parry the random blasts, but Vader's instability was roiling the Force so badly, a few blast got though. One was enough to crush the third Inquisitor.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force (Page 275)
Her partner drew her weapon. Jax made a swiping gesture, and the blaster spun away over the banister into the room below. The Zabrak woman went for her weapon next―Jax's clenching fist caused the Force to twist it into an unrecognizable lump.
She flung the useless thing aside and lunged at him. He answered with a Force thrust powerful enough to launch her four meters down the corridor.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 280)
He thrust one hand, stiff-armed, at the door. It ripped from its hinges, blowing inward in a rain of wood dust and plaster.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 280)
One gesture tore the tapestry from the wall and flung it into a corner; another shoved the inner door aside, making its machinery scream.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 280)
Then he whipped around, free-hand extended, generating Force thrust that swept every surface in the room, reacting a storm of flying objects. The hail of glass, metal, and wood pelted the guards who were even now rushing in through the unblocked office door.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 284)
Jax spun, thrusting with both hands. The barred window exploded outward over the street below, taking a large chunk of the wall with it.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Pages 284-285)
Telepathy:
He continued to use the Force to aid his survival in subtle ways, from winning credits by manipulating sabacc games to "suggesting" that local street vendors and restaurants supply him with food.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights I: Jedi Twilight (Page 33)
"Please announce Jedi Jax Pavan and Paladin Lanarth Tarak," He said. Though he was looking straight ahead he could feel her wariness. He touched her mind subtly with the Force, reassuring her without words.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights I: Jedi Twilight (Page 130)
"Its best if we all go our own ways," He said in a soothing tone while he made the mesmerizing gestures of the mental snare that had so often gotten him out of ticklish situations since the destruction of the Jedi Order.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights I: Jedi Twilight (Page 195)
Jax felt Kaj's presence on the other side of the door to his room, felt the chill spikes of his sudden fear. He spilt his attention, sending the youth calming thoughts.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force (Page 104)
Jax wished he would just go away, but he refused to use the Force for such a petty manipulation.
―Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force (Page 147)
Jax met the question with the most subtle tendril of the Force possible.
"I've been on this duty for months. I carry the most important dispatches. You've seen me here before."
The man looked up into Jax's eyes and frowned. "Wait, I know you. I've seen you here before."
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 128)
He chose several other points of enlightenment― a treatise on healing, acquired from Jedi long dead, another on the sort of Force cloaking he'd stumbled upon while meditating on the Miisai tree, another by an ancient Jedi Master on the nature of the Force, another on Force communications, yet another on something Darth Ramage called "tunneling", which allowed the Force user to so tightly that he touched nothing but the target of his focus.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Page 378)
Time Manipulation:
He saw time not as a stream, but as a vast ocean teeming with myriad currents. On its deceptively placid surface, islands bobbed. The first thing that he understood about the islands is that they were not all alike. Some extended their roots to the floor of the ocean; some floated freely. There were fixed points―nexuses―and floating points that drifted about them.
The second thing he understood about these "islands" is that they did not march in a straight line. Indeed, they were not all even held by the same currents. How, then, did one move them or move among them?
Islands move not, unless the currents move them.
The assertion―embedded in his knew knowledge― brought Jax up short. It had the texture of one of Aoloiloa's mystical pronunciations.
The moment the thought flickered through his mind, Jax knew with horrible certainty that Darth Ramage's knowledge of time manipulation had come at the expense of Cephalon lives and minds. Hundreds, if not thousands of them.
Separation destroys us.
He could feel the echoes of agony in the interstices between visualization and articulation. Darth Ramage had ripped this perception of time in its extended dimensions from the minds of Cephalon victims, but in doing so, he had cut them off from their network of joint consciousness, leaving the individuals horrifically alone, isolated in the vast temporal sea.
Aoloiloa must known seen this. Had he foreseen that knowledge would be useful to Jax? Or had he forseen something else― someone else that much information might be useful to?
If Jax, in possession of this knowledge, fell into Darth Vader's hands― into the Emperor's hands― what then?
Jax pulled his consciousness away from the knowledge― but it was to late, of course. It was fixed in him like a red, hot star. He closed his eyes and the library vanished.
―Star Wars: The Last Jedi (Pages 379-380)
She entered the chamber and turned to face the Jedi.
"Was that teleportation?"
He shook his head. "No. Projection. That was one of the things Darth Ramage was experimenting with―using a Force projection to make it seem that he was somewhere he was not. Which, I suppose, opens up all kinds of new possibilities about the stories of his demise."
"So you were in here, projecting the version of you that came out to speak to me. But you didn't seem to hear what I said to you. You didn't answer my question."
"I didn't hear your question, Magash, because I wasn't in here projecting that at the same time as you were seeing it. I wa speaking to Mother Djo."
Magash felt as if there were wool in her head. "I don't understand."
"It was an autonomous projection. I preprogrammed it, I guess you could say, to do exactly what it did. Beyond that..." He shook his head―wearily, Magash thought.
"But still, wouldn't it have required you to be projecting while I was seeing it?"
"No, because of something else Darth Ramage was experimenting with: time manipulation."
Wildbantha88- The Furry Droogie
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