Battle for Alsakan [Boarding Action #2]

[Nephill Kilner]

Spoiler: Opponent Post

In a more level-headed state of mind, Saul wouldn't have simply stood in front of the door and make himself such an easy target. However his aggression did have it's tactical advantages. As the door slid open he began readying a powerful Force Push to deal with the Mandalorian he sensed as being in the center of the group. He was caught off guard when one of the inaccurately fired virpine rounds clipped his left side, slightly above his hip. The armor he was wearing helped to slow the projectile and deflect most of the shards safely to the side, however a few managed to pierce through. The sharp pain diluted his focus, but increased his anger. Instead of a focused assault to knock the leader back several meters, the resultant Force Wave staggered the whole group.

Simultaneously, the fired frag grenade was detonated via it's proximity detonator. Although Saul didn't realize it at the time, Master Rathru had just saved his life. A quick Force Barrier was able to distribute the momentum of the shrapnel evenly across his whole body, rather than just the impact points, knocking him backwards through the air and his lightsaber out of his hand, but preventing any damage. With a bit of help from the Force, he was able to guide himself to land safely behind a large control console.

The three remaining Mandos quickly regained their balance and had begun firing again, but Saul wasn't done, not by a long shot. Standing up from behind the console, Saul extended his left hand and willed the Force to bind itself around the left Mando, his blaster clattered to the floor as he flew to hang in front of the Jedi, serving as a human shield. Extending his right he crushed the neck of the Mando on the right. This left only the leader of the group. Saul was curious to see what he would do, would he fire on his on comrade to attempt to kill him, or would he try to talk his way out?

Things began happening so fast that the average soldier would have had to focus all of his efforts just on keeping up with the events occurring around him.

But Nephill was on.

Like a lightswitch.

Everything seemed to happen in slow-mo, and he watched the Jedi duck and weave to avoid the deadly Verpine rounds - causing him no shortage of frustration. The one round that evaded his defenses seemed to barely even cause any injury. Only the Jedi's fast thinking prevented the grenade at his feet from blowing him into ash - the high explosive round was deflected and dissipated as the Jedi flew unharmed to land hard several meters away.

The three Mandalorians pressed their advantage automatically, able to shoot a few blasts before the female Zabrak was Force-pulled in front of the Jedi as a shield. The Mandalorians stopped firing on instinct, and Nephill was moving forward to initiate a plan even as he heard his comrade's neck break with a sickening crack.

It was clear that this Jedi wasn't going down easy. And the fact that he was trying to be cunning by using shields....made his blood boil.

It was fact to the Mandalorian this was going to be tricky - but Nephill was a tricky man. Years of experience and methods from all over the galaxy would be thrown at the Jedi mercilessly.

As soon as he saw his vod being lifted off her feet, Nephill was in action. Without waiting to see what tricks the Jedi was planning, he raised his wrist and launched a combo set of poison darts that would travel stuck together, and split into three when they reached a proximity of 20 inches to a programmed target. Each dart was about the size of a finger, with most of it take up by a thick, high-penetration delivery needle that could punch through medium armor and deliver its agent into the victim's skin. Each dart contained a dose of poison high enough to cause temporary paralysis. Within three seconds of it entering the victim's bloodstream (or muscles, where it would reach the body more slowly, delayed by two seconds), the victim's muscles would begin to spasm uncontrollably, causing them to collapse; after twenty seconds of seizure-like, body-wide spasms, the victim's muscles would seize violently and then freeze, and the victim would go as limp as if their brain stem had been severed, unable to move even their eyes. The darts moved faster then the rate at which the Jedi was moving Neph's Zabrak sister, and would connect with his body before the shield would be in place.

But Neph wasn't done yet. As soon as the darts were launched, he was activating plan 2. The crack of his vod's neck snapping struck at his gut as he blinked in his buy'ce's HUD, activating a second system on his wrist.

The Jedi would suffer him. Jabbing the nozzle right at the Jedi's face a mere meter away, gas began shooting out of his wrist launcher, custom-selected among several that Neph carried. The gas was pressure-launched to rapidly dissipate into a massive, yet thick cloud of toxic gas.

The gas was a weaponized variant of some naturally occurring chemical compound - some planet out near Kargis if Neph remembered correctly. No matter. The gas filled the entire control room in a thick, vibrant green cloud of roiling smoke, letting no one in the room escape from its cold embrace - this dissipation taking a mere two seconds from the moment Neph began releasing it.

This particular chemical agent was a nasty one. As soon as one gulp of it entered the body, the strong, acrid smelling gas would blister the respiratory tissue it came into contact with, causing the victim extreme pain from simple exhalation and inhalation - although this wouldn't kill. Upon reaching the lungs, which would transfer the gas to the blood, the body's pulmonary system would complete this distribution of the chemical agent, and promptly result in a massive inflammatory reaction. Burning hot blisters would erupt throughout the victim's skin, causing insurmountable pain. Every inch of the victim's body would swell and split open as if sliced open with a red-hot sword.

The Zabrak Mandalorian was worth her salt, and like Nephill, both had helmet systems that would filter the chemical agent from their own air supply (The gas particles were actually quite large by a molecular scale, and would be easily taken care of by a filtration system). Their helmets were pressure sealed onto their neck gorgets (to prevent decapitation) so that not one bit of the gas could penetrate their own defenses.

Both attacks were swift, extremely fast, and extremely deadly threats that the Jedi would be hard-pressed to meet both. Neph was counting on at least one pushing through, either of which would incapacitate the Jedi completely but not kill him for several minutes - allowing the Mandalorian to finish him off in a manner he deserved of.

But Neph had a backup plan for even this. Reaching to his back, he drew his sheathed beskad with a cool shhrrpp noise, the result of the cool strill leather making contact with the five-times folded pure beskar sword.

A family heirloom, the hilt glistened with Krayt Dragon Pearls and pure gold, and Neph adopted a ready stance as he watched the largest cloud of gas be pushed away by the room's slow, automated, constant air filtration system, and readied his next move.

 

[Nike]

Spoiler: Berric

Berric turned from a station corridor to be looking into the tinted T-shaped gaze of a Mandalorian's armor. With one smooth movement he unslung his carbine from his shoulder and gripped it tightly with both of his glove covered hands and pulled the sights up to his eye and squeezed the trigger multiple letting loose red streams of blaster fire down his field of view hitting the Mandalorian guard each time in the chest leading him to drop to the floor, dead. Berric commanded his group of men into the escape pod bay and yelled,"This is it men!, Don't let any of them leave!". In an instant of the two groups meeting eachother's gazes they opened fire. Berric dropped his carbine onto the metal floor and pulled the pistol from the holster attached to his utility belt and held it in front him with a fully extended arm. With his left arm he reached to his utility belt to pull out the hilt of a concealed vibrosword. He then held it down and aimed it towards the ground and pressed a button to fully extend the blade. CLINK!, Berric's astromech used his blowtorch to burn the locked grate at the end of the maintenance tunnel leading to the escape pod bay went out for a second only to have it's chassis covered with ash from the exposure exposed to the hail of blaster fire in the room so it stayed against the wall hoping it would be ignored by both sides. Berric re-holstered his blaster pistol and held the vibrosword with both of his hands. His adrenaline took over and he charged the leader or at least whom he thought was the leader as she yelled to her fellow Mandalorians warning of the Alliance's presence. He charged at her holding his blade in front of him until he got close to make a swing with his vibrosword when he held the blade above his head to make a strike.

Zara closed her eyes for a moment and breathed deep. Damn him. He was right, of course. Worrying about Neph, using even a fraction of her attention anxiously monitoring the comms would be as much a hindrance as tying a hand behind her back, and it would get her killed. Realizing that she’d have to completely forget him made her sick, but she had to push that from her mind as well. Damn, they should have stayed together. “Understood,” she said quickly, “But—” After a gentle farewell, he killed the connection, cutting her off. “…I’m not leaving without you…” Her heart became a little heavier. She hadn’t said goodbye.

No. If she had to drag them both off the ship by her fingernails, she’d make sure Neph’s goodbye was unnecessary. Now she just had to live long enough to do so. With a new fire moving through her veins, she fired indiscriminately into the oncoming GA soldiers. Get her shebse off the ship? Wouldn’t happen. The idea was even funny.

The Mandalorians stood in position around both entrances. The doorways were only large enough for three or four to stand in, so only a few could trickle in at once. Though those few were easily disposed of, more quickly filled the empty space. Soon, some of the braver ones began to break into the room. Even they fell, but not without dealing serious damage. “Cabur,”said a verd, the same one in blue, Zara noted, who had assisted her before. “They’re coming too fast. Once more show up we’ll be completely overwhelmed.” He spoke through his teeth and Zara wondered if he’d been injured.

Without looking away from the battle, Zara bit her lip. “Slow ‘em down, then.” Unable to fill her voice with strength, she settled for one empty of everything. As she spoke, she pushed herself against the wall and began to reload. “Barricade the doors, I don’t care how. Rip up the walls if y—Osi’kyr!” While she spoke, a pilot in a bright orange flight suit had broken through the wall of beskar’gam and, vibroblade in hand, charged straight towards her. The clip fell from her hand.

Somewhat stunned, Zara used her rifle to block the oncoming attack, barely bringing it up in time to stop the blade from cleaving her helmet. The blow forced her back a bit, but she made up the distance and tried to whack the pilot in the stomach with the stock of the damaged but still useful rifle. Hoping the attack would stun him, at least for a moment, she stepped back and reached into her belt for another power pack, but there wasn’t one there. Her eyebrows drew together in fear. Taking a steadying breath, she dropped her Deece and upholstered the pistol on her hip; it seemed insignificant compared with the pilot’s blade. As she moved back, weaving and ducking to avoid the man’s attacks, she scanned her fallen vod for a more suitable weapon.

 

[SwineOfTheSkies]

Spoiler: Zara

Zara closed her eyes for a moment and breathed deep. Damn him. He was right, of course. Worrying about Neph, using even a fraction of her attention anxiously monitoring the comms would be as much a hindrance as tying a hand behind her back, and it would get her killed. Realizing that she’d have to completely forget him made her sick, but she had to push that from her mind as well. Damn, they should have stayed together. “Understood,” she said quickly, “But—” After a gentle farewell, he killed the connection, cutting her off. “…I’m not leaving without you…” Her heart became a little heavier. She hadn’t said goodbye.

No. If she had to drag them both off the ship by her fingernails, she’d make sure Neph’s goodbye was unnecessary. Now she just had to live long enough to do so. With a new fire moving through her veins, she fired indiscriminately into the oncoming GA soldiers. Get her shebse off the ship? Wouldn’t happen. The idea was even funny.

The Mandalorians stood in position around both entrances. The doorways were only large enough for three or four to stand in, so only a few could trickle in at once. Though those few were easily disposed of, more quickly filled the empty space. Soon, some of the braver ones began to break into the room. Even they fell, but not without dealing serious damage. “Cabur,”said a verd, the same one in blue, Zara noted, who had assisted her before. “They’re coming too fast. Once more show up we’ll be completely overwhelmed.” He spoke through his teeth and Zara wondered if he’d been injured.

Without looking away from the battle, Zara bit her lip. “Slow ‘em down, then.” Unable to fill her voice with strength, she settled for one empty of everything. As she spoke, she pushed herself against the wall and began to reload. “Barricade the doors, I don’t care how. Rip up the walls if y—Osi’kyr!” While she spoke, a pilot in a bright orange flight suit had broken through the wall of beskar’gam and, vibroblade in hand, charged straight towards her. The clip fell from her hand.

Somewhat stunned, Zara used her rifle to block the oncoming attack, barely bringing it up in time to stop the blade from cleaving her helmet. The blow forced her back a bit, but she made up the distance and tried to whack the pilot in the stomach with the stock of the damaged but still useful rifle. Hoping the attack would stun him, at least for a moment, she stepped back and reached into her belt for another power pack, but there wasn’t one there. Her eyebrows drew together in fear. Taking a steadying breath, she dropped her Deece and upholstered the pistol on her hip; it seemed insignificant compared with the pilot’s blade. As she moved back, weaving and ducking to avoid the man’s attacks, she scanned her fallen vod for a more suitable weapon.

CLANG! the sound Berric's blade clashing with the Mandalorian's rifle. The failed attack bounced Berric back slightly. He looked back to prepare his blade for another strike when the Mandalorian drove the stock of her rifle into Berric's stomach. It nearly knocked the wind out of him, He dropped the blade and held his stomach before picking the vibroblade back up while still recovering from the strike. He got into the Shii-Cho offensive stance, even though Berric prefers a less restrictive technique to using his vibroblade. He swung the sword aiming at the Mandalorian's right arm and then attempting to make a stab. He took a few steps back and charged at the Mandalorian again attempting to make yet another stab motion hoping to rid of his opponent quickly but he knew fighting melee with any Mandalorian wasn't going to be an easy feat for even the most skilled sword users but he was confident enough in his skill and experience to leave the station alive. After his last stab motion he lifted the blade again to make another slash downward at the Mandalorian. He then decided to take a few vital seconds to unholster his pistol once again and fire a few shots at the Mandalorian. Berric's astromech soon enough crept from the wall and closer to the duel. There was no way Berric would allow this if he was paying attention but he was too concentrated on the duel.. Clackers crept behind the Mandalorian and equipped his fusion cutter in an attempt to shock the Mandalorian and assist his master.

 

[Saul Perth]

Spoiler: Neph's Post

Things began happening so fast that the average soldier would have had to focus all of his efforts just on keeping up with the events occurring around him.

But Nephill was on.

Like a lightswitch.

Everything seemed to happen in slow-mo, and he watched the Jedi duck and weave to avoid the deadly Verpine rounds - causing him no shortage of frustration. The one round that evaded his defenses seemed to barely even cause any injury. Only the Jedi's fast thinking prevented the grenade at his feet from blowing him into ash - the high explosive round was deflected and dissipated as the Jedi flew unharmed to land hard several meters away.

The three Mandalorians pressed their advantage automatically, able to shoot a few blasts before the female Zabrak was Force-pulled in front of the Jedi as a shield. The Mandalorians stopped firing on instinct, and Nephill was moving forward to initiate a plan even as he heard his comrade's neck break with a sickening crack.

It was clear that this Jedi wasn't going down easy. And the fact that he was trying to be cunning by using shields....made his blood boil.

It was fact to the Mandalorian this was going to be tricky - but Nephill was a tricky man. Years of experience and methods from all over the galaxy would be thrown at the Jedi mercilessly.

As soon as he saw his vod being lifted off her feet, Nephill was in action. Without waiting to see what tricks the Jedi was planning, he raised his wrist and launched a combo set of poison darts that would travel stuck together, and split into three when they reached a proximity of 20 inches to a programmed target. Each dart was about the size of a finger, with most of it take up by a thick, high-penetration delivery needle that could punch through medium armor and deliver its agent into the victim's skin. Each dart contained a dose of poison high enough to cause temporary paralysis. Within three seconds of it entering the victim's bloodstream (or muscles, where it would reach the body more slowly, delayed by two seconds), the victim's muscles would begin to spasm uncontrollably, causing them to collapse; after twenty seconds of seizure-like, body-wide spasms, the victim's muscles would seize violently and then freeze, and the victim would go as limp as if their brain stem had been severed, unable to move even their eyes. The darts moved faster then the rate at which the Jedi was moving Neph's Zabrak sister, and would connect with his body before the shield would be in place.

But Neph wasn't done yet. As soon as the darts were launched, he was activating plan 2. The crack of his vod's neck snapping struck at his gut as he blinked in his buy'ce's HUD, activating a second system on his wrist.

The Jedi would suffer him. Jabbing the nozzle right at the Jedi's face a mere meter away, gas began shooting out of his wrist launcher, custom-selected among several that Neph carried. The gas was pressure-launched to rapidly dissipate into a massive, yet thick cloud of toxic gas.

The gas was a weaponized variant of some naturally occurring chemical compound - some planet out near Kargis if Neph remembered correctly. No matter. The gas filled the entire control room in a thick, vibrant green cloud of roiling smoke, letting no one in the room escape from its cold embrace - this dissipation taking a mere two seconds from the moment Neph began releasing it.

This particular chemical agent was a nasty one. As soon as one gulp of it entered the body, the strong, acrid smelling gas would blister the respiratory tissue it came into contact with, causing the victim extreme pain from simple exhalation and inhalation - although this wouldn't kill. Upon reaching the lungs, which would transfer the gas to the blood, the body's pulmonary system would complete this distribution of the chemical agent, and promptly result in a massive inflammatory reaction. Burning hot blisters would erupt throughout the victim's skin, causing insurmountable pain. Every inch of the victim's body would swell and split open as if sliced open with a red-hot sword.

The Zabrak Mandalorian was worth her salt, and like Nephill, both had helmet systems that would filter the chemical agent from their own air supply (The gas particles were actually quite large by a molecular scale, and would be easily taken care of by a filtration system). Their helmets were pressure sealed onto their neck gorgets (to prevent decapitation) so that not one bit of the gas could penetrate their own defenses.

Both attacks were swift, extremely fast, and extremely deadly threats that the Jedi would be hard-pressed to meet both. Neph was counting on at least one pushing through, either of which would incapacitate the Jedi completely but not kill him for several minutes - allowing the Mandalorian to finish him off in a manner he deserved of.

But Neph had a backup plan for even this. Reaching to his back, he drew his sheathed beskad with a cool shhrrpp noise, the result of the cool strill leather making contact with the five-times folded pure beskar sword.

A family heirloom, the hilt glistened with Krayt Dragon Pearls and pure gold, and Neph adopted a ready stance as he watched the largest cloud of gas be pushed away by the room's slow, automated, constant air filtration system, and readied his next move.

The Mandalorian leader rushed forward as Saul pulled his human shield to bare. In an attempt to split Saul's focus the Mando had unleashed two attacks in rapid succession. The poison darts were fast, but by releasing his grip on his prisoner, Saul was able to redirect the projectile safely to the side with his now free left hand. With his focus elsewhere, Saul was unable to defend himself from the second attack, paralytic poison gas. Luckily for the Jedi, the Mando had made a mistake and simply wasted his time. His armor's own integrated scrubbers filtered the toxin for a second, before automatically sealing the airways and drawing oxygen from the small canister on his back.

The freed Mando, now having regained his footing, shot his hand down to draw his side arm. Saul was quicker, and the soldier fell to the ground beside his unfired pistol, his neck bent at a very unnatural angle. He returned his full attention to the Mando leader, who had drawn his own blade. Saul was breathing heavy, his force reserves had been nearly depleted, and it would take a couple of minutes to "recharge". It was one against one now, though, and if you ignored the sword in the hands of the Mandalorian warrior, they stood on much more even terms. Saul stood his ground and waited for the Mando to make his move as the now familiar automated voice rang out again over the loudspeakers.

"Six minutes remaining."

 

[Nike]

Spoiler: Berric

CLANG! the sound Berric's blade clashing with the Mandalorian's rifle. The failed attack bounced Berric back slightly. He looked back to prepare his blade for another strike when the Mandalorian drove the stock of her rifle into Berric's stomach. It nearly knocked the wind out of him, He dropped the blade and held his stomach before picking the vibroblade back up while still recovering from the strike. He got into the Shii-Cho offensive stance, even though Berric prefers a less restrictive technique to using his vibroblade. He swung the sword aiming at the Mandalorian's right arm and then attempting to make a stab. He took a few steps back and charged at the Mandalorian again attempting to make yet another stab motion hoping to rid of his opponent quickly but he knew fighting melee with any Mandalorian wasn't going to be an easy feat for even the most skilled sword users but he was confident enough in his skill and experience to leave the station alive. After his last stab motion he lifted the blade again to make another slash downward at the Mandalorian. He then decided to take a few vital seconds to unholster his pistol once again and fire a few shots at the Mandalorian. Berric's astromech soon enough crept from the wall and closer to the duel. There was no way Berric would allow this if he was paying attention but he was too concentrated on the duel.. Clackers crept behind the Mandalorian and equipped his fusion cutter in an attempt to shock the Mandalorian and assist his master.

When Zara first began her training, her father would often berate her for her reluctance to focus on melee and unarmed techniques. Her response was always to shrug and say, “I’ll just shoot them.” She could hear his voice in her head, dry and humorless, “How’s that working for you?”

Not well. The man’s attacks were swift, deadly. Many of them even bounced off her armor, only her quick feet as she moved away from the blows kept them from dealing serious damage. She did her best to keep distance between them, awkwardly skipping backwards as she concentrated her fire around his chest. If he could see her expression, it’d be obvious how uncomfortable she was with being so close. Adrenaline was at its highest all day; she could practically feel it moving in her as if it were trying to burn through her skin. When her blaster went empty, she tossed it aside as well and dropped to the ground just in time to miss the pilot’s final down slash.

While the pilot pulled out his own blaster, Zara rolled to her feet and briefly scanned the room. The others had taken her suggestion and were quickly stacking storage crates and barrels in the doorway. It wouldn’t be enough, she knew, but it still offered valuable cover and hindered the aruetiise progress. That alone made it worth it.

The man was shooting at her now. Weaponless, Zara dived behind a crate that hadn’t been moved it but found someone already there. The verd in blue. He was clutching at his side and from between his fingers she could she pieces of broken armor embedded in his skin. She also couldn’t help but notice the beskad lying beside him. A little slowly, he turned to her and she saw her own scratched helmet reflected in his visor. “Cabur…” he said softly. “Just taking…a minute…”

Her heart went out to him, but she didn’t dare let it show even with her face hidden. Throwing a glance over shoulder at the pilot, she reached for his beskad. “You’re done, vod. Round up the other injured and get yourselves off before you become a tripping hazard. Deny the aruetiise at least one escape pod.” Her voice was harsh, betraying none of the compassion she felt. “Also,” her grip tightened around his weapon. “I’m taking this.” She couldn’t wait to see if he listened to her, though somehow she knew he wouldn’t. After all, she hadn’t listened to Neph.

The beskad was heavier than comfortable, using would be slow but the blows would be more effective. Wistfully, Zara thought about the blade she’d used in her lesson with Sisk. She should have kept it. As she moved back from cover, she almost tripped over an astromech droid. The thing shocked her, and she let out a startled yelp. So the pilot had a pet? Narrowing her eyes, she kicked at the droid, and it skidded across the floor before it finally toppling over. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the man. With the blade in her hand, she felt on more equal footing.

‘Relax,’ she told herself, thinking back on her lesson with Sisk. ‘Fluid. Balanced. Relaxed.’ With that, she charged at him, the beskad in her right hand and almost trailing on the ground behind her. Using her momentum, she brought the blade up, wrapping her other hand around it as well, and attempted to slash the pilot from his ribs to his shoulder before dashing back again, ready to intercept his next blow.

As if from a distant, she registered the ship's alarm system. Six minutes left.

 

[SwineOfTheSkies]

Berric standing face to face with the female mandalorian, both wielding their vibroblades. He stood in a defensive stance read for the first move, she attempted to make a slash at Berric but he took the blade with his right hand and blocked it letting sparks of metal drop to the metal floor. He then made a slash of his own with the sword in his right hand and his pistol and the other and while he made the slash he pulled the pistol over his right arm to make a shot.

Berric looked from the female mandalorian to see the injured mandalorian attempting to escape. It wasn't in Berric's nature to execute the injured enemy and knew the Mandalorians, a warrior culture that was built on honor wouldn't allow this but he wasn't a Mandalorian he wasn't some warrior playing costume with intimidating armor and killing on codes worth thousands of years....no he was a grunt...a grunt of the Galactic Alliance. There was no code of honor in the Allaince, sure there was restrictions but no code...The normal Berric would've let him leave, it's just one injured mandalorian. Though this wasn't a normal Berric, this Berric was in battle. His mind was run by adrenaline not thought. He knew he was going to do his best to not let a single one of them escape.

A blue blaster bolt zipped form the barrel of his pistol towards the injured Mandalorian and he dropped to the ground, dead in a pool of his and his comrade's blood. After her response to his slash he made another trying to cut at the end of a plate of armor on her leg.

 

[Nephill Kilner]

Spoiler: Saul's Post

The Mandalorian leader rushed forward as Saul pulled his human shield to bare. In an attempt to split Saul's focus the Mando had unleashed two attacks in rapid succession. The poison darts were fast, but by releasing his grip on his prisoner, Saul was able to redirect the projectile safely to the side with his now free left hand. With his focus elsewhere, Saul was unable to defend himself from the second attack, paralytic poison gas. Luckily for the Jedi, the Mando had made a mistake and simply wasted his time. His armor's own integrated scrubbers filtered the toxin for a second, before automatically sealing the airways and drawing oxygen from the small canister on his back.

The freed Mando, now having regained his footing, shot his hand down to draw his side arm. Saul was quicker, and the soldier fell to the ground beside his unfired pistol, his neck bent at a very unnatural angle. He returned his full attention to the Mando leader, who had drawn his own blade. Saul was breathing heavy, his force reserves had been nearly depleted, and it would take a couple of minutes to "recharge". It was one against one now, though, and if you ignored the sword in the hands of the Mandalorian warrior, they stood on much more even terms. Saul stood his ground and waited for the Mando to make his move as the now familiar automated voice rang out again over the loudspeakers.

"Six minutes remaining."

Maybe if Neph had been sober, he would've felt something at the deaths of so many vode. Maybe.

But all he felt now was an insatiable bloodlust. Time didn't mean anything to him. He was as in a right mind as the Jedi was - and that could only come together in a violent, crackling storm complete with cyclones and lightning.

Neph allowed himself one snarky comment as he swiftly raised his wrist again, blinking and selecting a new function for the launcher. The gas attack had been an unfortunate waste...since when did Jedi wear armor? "You like the same tricks, Jedi. I like to vary my choices."

With that, sensing that the Jedi's Force abilities must be diminished after such repeated exertions, he fired a salvo of about fifty high velocity flechettes, each about a half-inch long that spread out in a burst cloud like a shotgun round to encompass most of the immediate area in front of Neph. Each was tipped with a burning poison that unfortunately wasn't too debilitating (too small of a dose), but would induce burning pain that would cause quite violent swelling of the immediate area. If this hit a critical area, such as a joint, it could quite capably impede the victim's movements.

As soon as he launched that salvo, he smoothly brought his carbine around and jammed a round into his underslung launcher, the practiced movements taking a few precious seconds - Neph counting on the flechettes to keep the Jedi occupied, if not cause damage. The round loaded, he raised his carbine in his customary one-handed grip and activated it, a spout of flames spewing out of the launcher in a massive jet that extended a full eight meters - Neph stepping forward and aiming the flamethrower as needed depending on the Jedi's reaction, keeping his beskad held ready in his other hand. The flamethrower had six long seconds of fuel, and once it was spent, Neph cast aside his blaster and charged forward with his blade.

 

[Nike]

Spoiler: Berric

Berric standing face to face with the female mandalorian, both wielding their vibroblades. He stood in a defensive stance read for the first move, she attempted to make a slash at Berric but he took the blade with his right hand and blocked it letting sparks of metal drop to the metal floor. He then made a slash of his own with the sword in his right hand and his pistol and the other and while he made the slash he pulled the pistol over his right arm to make a shot.

Berric looked from the female mandalorian to see the injured mandalorian attempting to escape. It wasn't in Berric's nature to execute the injured enemy and knew the Mandalorians, a warrior culture that was built on honor wouldn't allow this but he wasn't a Mandalorian he wasn't some warrior playing costume with intimidating armor and killing on codes worth thousands of years....no he was a grunt...a grunt of the Galactic Alliance. There was no code of honor in the Allaince, sure there was restrictions but no code...The normal Berric would've let him leave, it's just one injured mandalorian. Though this wasn't a normal Berric, this Berric was in battle. His mind was run by adrenaline not thought. He knew he was going to do his best to not let a single one of them escape.

A blue blaster bolt zipped form the barrel of his pistol towards the injured Mandalorian and he dropped to the ground, dead in a pool of his and his comrade's blood. After her response to his slash he made another trying to cut at the end of a plate of armor on her leg.

Sparks exploded then drifted away as their blades met, and the clang of steel on steel reverberated through her arm and into her head, almost like music. It was beautiful, Zara thought briefly as she stepped back to intercept his next blow, barely bringing the beskad up in time to stop his blade from cutting across her shoulder. However, she couldn't avoid the blaster bolt from hitting her in the side. Under her armor she thought she felt blood began to trickle, at the very least a bruise was forming. Her breath caught in her throat as the sharp pain spread through every limb before fading into a dull throb. It wouldn’t stop her, of course, but it did slow her down even more.

He raised his blaster again, and Zara moved to avoid the shot. But, he wasn’t aiming at her. Confused, she turned to glance behind her just in time to see the verd in blue half-crawling from behind the crate, reaching for the hand of another Mandalorian leaning against the barricade with a cracked visor and a soldier dead at her side. Looking back at the pilot, she realized his intentions. “No!” she shouted, the sound dull and static-y through her helmet’s speaker. The pain ignored, she moved to put herself between the blaster and the two vod, but it was too late. Stunned, she watched him fall. Dead.

For what felt like a thousand years, she stared at his body, the dark blue of his armor dripping with crimson. From the pit of her stomach, fury began to build, pushing itself into her limbs, making them tremble. Her lips pulled away from her teeth into a snarl. No more did she want to stop the GA from escaping, she wanted the man in front of her dead.

Blinded by her anger, she didn’t notice his attack until she felt his blade smash against her leg. Her armor cushioned most of the blow, but she knew she couldn’t take another one like it and keep her leg in one piece. “Hut’uun,” she said through bared teeth. Coward, the worst possible insult to the Mando’ade. With a new vigor fueled by rage, she raised her beskad overhead and attempted to bring it down on the pilot’s head. Before waiting to see if the strike made contact, she tightened her grip and went to bash the heavy hilt against the side of the man’s face, then kicked out, aiming her foot at his stomach, but leaving herself vulnerable. In that moment, she didn’t care if she died so long as she took the pilot with her.

 

[SwineOfTheSkies]

Spoiler: Zara

Sparks exploded then drifted away as their blades met, and the clang of steel on steel reverberated through her arm and into her head, almost like music. It was beautiful, Zara thought briefly as she stepped back to intercept his next blow, barely bringing the beskad up in time to stop his blade from cutting across her shoulder. However, she couldn't avoid the blaster bolt from hitting her in the side. Under her armor she thought she felt blood began to trickle, at the very least a bruise was forming. Her breath caught in her throat as the sharp pain spread through every limb before fading into a dull throb. It wouldn’t stop her, of course, but it did slow her down even more.

He raised his blaster again, and Zara moved to avoid the shot. But, he wasn’t aiming at her. Confused, she turned to glance behind her just in time to see the verd in blue half-crawling from behind the crate, reaching for the hand of another Mandalorian leaning against the barricade with a cracked visor and a soldier dead at her side. Looking back at the pilot, she realized his intentions. “No!” she shouted, the sound dull and static-y through her helmet’s speaker. The pain ignored, she moved to put herself between the blaster and the two vod, but it was too late. Stunned, she watched him fall. Dead.

For what felt like a thousand years, she stared at his body, the dark blue of his armor dripping with crimson. From the pit of her stomach, fury began to build, pushing itself into her limbs, making them tremble. Her lips pulled away from her teeth into a snarl. No more did she want to stop the GA from escaping, she wanted the man in front of her dead.

Blinded by her anger, she didn’t notice his attack until she felt his blade smash against her leg. Her armor cushioned most of the blow, but she knew she couldn’t take another one like it and keep her leg in one piece. “Hut’uun,” she said through bared teeth. Coward, the worst possible insult to the Mando’ade. With a new vigor fueled by rage, she raised her beskad overhead and attempted to bring it down on the pilot’s head. Before waiting to see if the strike made contact, she tightened her grip and went to bash the heavy hilt against the side of the man’s face, then kicked out, aiming her foot at his stomach, but leaving herself vulnerable. In that moment, she didn’t care if she died so long as she took the pilot with her.

After Berric had shot the wounded Mandalorian it didn't him long to realize what he had really done. He had just killed one of her comrades and from all that Berric understood about Mandalorians that was all it took to fill them with rage and he was most definitely correct.

The female Mandalorian had planned for a strike to Berric's head just as he did, He was quick to avoid the blade but not the hilt of it. The hilt of the vibrosword smashed against Berric's left cheekbone. He didn't have enough energy or enough time to avoid her follow up kick to the stomach which knocked him onto the floor. He thought this was going to be the end for him, this was it. No..he thought, He wasn't going to let this Mandalorian kill him without a fight. He went back to his feet as quickly as he could. The kick about knocked the wind out of him but Berric ignored the pain as his adrenaline was in control now. He had swung with all the force had at her leg and thought, another strike like that would most definitely wound her enough to stop the duel. The left part of his cheek was already swollen but neither he or his mind cared at this point. He firmly gripped the blade with both of his hands as his R9 unit made it's way close to the duel in an attempt to help. He thought, a strike to the leg and maybe a punch or elbow to her visor. He stood still before charging at her, makign little noise to conserve his energy as he took the left hand off of the hilt of the blade and went to punch the Mandalorian in the visor to break it or at least disorient her as he made a strike towards the same leg. Berric couldn't take much more now though. If this 'plan' wasn't successful he would have to resort to his blaster if he wanted to get off the station alive.

 

[Saul Perth]

Spoiler: Neph's post

Maybe if Neph had been sober, he would've felt something at the deaths of so many vode. Maybe.

But all he felt now was an insatiable bloodlust. Time didn't mean anything to him. He was as in a right mind as the Jedi was - and that could only come together in a violent, crackling storm complete with cyclones and lightning.

Neph allowed himself one snarky comment as he swiftly raised his wrist again, blinking and selecting a new function for the launcher. The gas attack had been an unfortunate waste...since when did Jedi wear armor? "You like the same tricks, Jedi. I like to vary my choices."

With that, sensing that the Jedi's Force abilities must be diminished after such repeated exertions, he fired a salvo of about fifty high velocity flechettes, each about a half-inch long that spread out in a burst cloud like a shotgun round to encompass most of the immediate area in front of Neph. Each was tipped with a burning poison that unfortunately wasn't too debilitating (too small of a dose), but would induce burning pain that would cause quite violent swelling of the immediate area. If this hit a critical area, such as a joint, it could quite capably impede the victim's movements.

As soon as he launched that salvo, he smoothly brought his carbine around and jammed a round into his underslung launcher, the practiced movements taking a few precious seconds - Neph counting on the flechettes to keep the Jedi occupied, if not cause damage. The round loaded, he raised his carbine in his customary one-handed grip and activated it, a spout of flames spewing out of the launcher in a massive jet that extended a full eight meters - Neph stepping forward and aiming the flamethrower as needed depending on the Jedi's reaction, keeping his beskad held ready in his other hand. The flamethrower had six long seconds of fuel, and once it was spent, Neph cast aside his blaster and charged forward with his blade.

"You like the same tricks, Jedi. I like to vary my choices."

"Oh my, the beast speaks. The simple fact that one such as yourself can even muster a simple word, much less a complete statement, it's nothing less than astounding, my complements to your owner, he must be very proud."

Saul's taunt either worked well, or not at all. Regardless, he was again put on the defensive as the Mandalorian before him began to bring his wrist mounted weapons to bear again. He had not yet regained his energy, and without power in reserve he was left with a more mundane option, duck. He was still standing behind the control console that he had landed behind and now it would have to protect him again.

Fifty loud pings rang through Saul's helmet's audio pickups as the flechettes struck the console. This was followed by more pings as the remainder that had not been completely stopped by the console bounced off his armor. Just as he was about to resurface from behind the console, he was forced back down as a stream of fire washed over the console. A thermometer flashed to life on his HuD, flashing red as the number climbed higher as the flames shaped themselves around the console. Saul held up well for the first couple of seconds, but as the number grew steadily higher he was forced to use a slight portion of the energy he was regaining to move the flaming air around him to a safer distance. A small expenditure, but still not one he wanted to make.

After the torrent of literal fire ended, Saul her the clang of something falling to the floor and the stomping of boots rushing towards him. Rolling out to the left, he saw his opponent yet again. This time, he was charging forward with a Mandalorian sword in his hands. Saul was defenseless, or he would have been, were it not for the gleaming silver cylinder hanging from the Mando's belt. Saul extended his right hand as the captured lightsaber shot into his open palm. Igniting the blade, he dropped into an Ataru stance and prepared to meet the Mando, blade to blade.

 

[Nephill Kilner]

Neph could see that his attacks had fallen short.

It barely fazed him. His elevated heart rate, which was at Olympian speeds now, only meant faster distribution of the drug through his system. And it had reached its pinnacle.

The Mandalorian's head seemed to be buzzing, and every extension of his body was literally twitching with energy. He felt...alive.

His mind was in the stars, and only briefly noted how the Jedi had snatched the deceased Knight's blade off of his belt for his own. That was fine. He couldn't feel pain right now, and he knew the Jedi had to be tired. No one could be using those powers that much and not be.

Deciding he was going to end this now, and ignoring the dull announcement that "Five minutes remain to detonation", he charged for the Jedi.

His training in Teras Kasi and the Jakelian Knife Dance paid off here. He unleashed a brutal onslaught, combining moves of both, to launch a lightning-fast and powerful two-handed slash at the man's neck. The move was meant to force the Jedi to expend energy to deflect the blow, and distract him. The beskad moved smoothly around for a counter-attack - but Neph allowed one hand to leave the hilt, and with a quick set of blinks, a cortosis blade snapped out of his wrist gauntlet.

The beskad continued in a sweeping blow aimed again at the Jedi's neck, while the cortosis blade aimed for his central body mass in a stabbing motion, and purposely aimed to be low and to the right, not the middle, so the Jedi could not block both attacks simultaneously - his blade simply wasn't the right length or large enough to meet both. Either he would have to take a blow to the chest, or let his blade meet cortosis - either of which would be beneficial to Neph. If the Jedi gave ground, he would only be met with a furious onslaught of combos armed with the aggression and abnormal strength of the drug, and the skill of years of practice.

 

[Saul Perth]

((OOC: I'm assuming the cortosis blade is from his right wrist, and that it's the one coming from his low right.))

The Mandalorian charged Saul, who waited in a ready stance. His attack was a broad slice, coming from the Jedi's left, attempting to completely decapitate him. He was going to have to do alot better than that. With his hands held back and over his shoulder, his blade angled down, passing over his head, the blade of his lightsaber met the sword of his attacker from below, raising the arc of the blade to the relative safety of a few inches above his head. As the heavy sword continued on it's arcing path, Saul prepared to counter-attack, but halted himself when he noticed the Mando's right hand leave his blade and readied himself for whatever new trick he might try to pull.

Like almost all Jedi, he immediately recognized the cortosis and the threat it held. The mobility of his Ataru stance saved him as he quickly stepped back as the hidden blade swung up from his left, putting a noticeable scratch across his breastplate, while the sword of the Mando descended from the Jedi's right. Saul's blade, now held only in his right hand, met the blade of the Mando in a deadlock, as his left grabbed hold of the wrist that wielded the deadly hidden blade. Using the force applied by the Mando's sword arm in addition to his own, he brought his right arm down on the flat of the cortosis blade, shattering the brittle metal at it's base with an armored forearm.

However this moved the deadlock dangerously close to his right shoulder, having to quickly bring his left hand back to his hilt to avoid having his own blade forced against him.

 

[Nike]

Spoiler: GA Scum <3

Berric standing face to face with the female mandalorian, both wielding their vibroblades. He stood in a defensive stance read for the first move, she attempted to make a slash at Berric but he took the blade with his right hand and blocked it letting sparks of metal drop to the metal floor. He then made a slash of his own with the sword in his right hand and his pistol and the other and while he made the slash he pulled the pistol over his right arm to make a shot.

Berric looked from the female mandalorian to see the injured mandalorian attempting to escape. It wasn't in Berric's nature to execute the injured enemy and knew the Mandalorians, a warrior culture that was built on honor wouldn't allow this but he wasn't a Mandalorian he wasn't some warrior playing costume with intimidating armor and killing on codes worth thousands of years....no he was a grunt...a grunt of the Galactic Alliance. There was no code of honor in the Allaince, sure there was restrictions but no code...The normal Berric would've let him leave, it's just one injured mandalorian. Though this wasn't a normal Berric, this Berric was in battle. His mind was run by adrenaline not thought. He knew he was going to do his best to not let a single one of them escape.

A blue blaster bolt zipped form the barrel of his pistol towards the injured Mandalorian and he dropped to the ground, dead in a pool of his and his comrade's blood. After her response to his slash he made another trying to cut at the end of a plate of armor on her leg.

For a moment, it looked like it was over. Zara allowed her weapon to relax at her side as she stared at the man on the ground. It was hard for her to believe. She had acted entirely on passion and instinct; this time it worked. She doubted she would be so lucky again. Her chest heaved as she tried to control the fire lashed around her muscles and pull back the smoke of rage clouding her thoughts. Standing over the pilot and watching his face swell helped. When he got back to his feet, she stepped back. “Have you remembered who you’re fighting, hut’uun?” Her own voice sounded foreign but, cold and dark, it was her’s. She felt herself once more.

Ignoring the burning in her arms, Zara lifted the beskad back into a starting position. With a soft gasp of pain, she shifted her stance to favor her injured side. Her body ached, her wounds screamed and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand. One way or another, it had to end.

The pilot didn’t move so neither did she, until she caught movement from the corner of her eyes. The damn droid. Again. It had righted itself and made its way back close to the duel, almost to her ankle. What threat it posed, she didn’t know. After all, what could it do? Trip her? Distract her? If it was the latter, it worked. The brief moment she’d been contemplating the astromech, the pilot began his charge towards her, vibroblade aimed low.

The spike in fear seemed to slow time down, but she still had precious microseconds on think. The droid was right beside her, maybe it really did mean to trip her, and Zara did the only thing she could think. Stepping back, she kicked the droid as hard as she could at the man. While she couldn’t avoid the punch, which sent her stumbling back, cracked her visor and hopefully damaged the man’s hand as well, she did hear a satisfying screech of metal ripping through metal. Sparks surround the now broken droid, torn apart by its master’s weapon. Not particularly fond of droids anyways, Zara let out a short laugh. Served them both right.

Before her enemy could right himself, she lunged at him, aiming for his right elbow. Her movements, while stiff by now, still had practiced air of hours of drills. The loudspeaker spoke again. Five minutes and counting.

 

[SwineOfTheSkies]

After the mandalorian spat out her insult as Berric was still on the ground he couldn't help his instinct to respond, "I hope you do as well!",Berric said trying to make himself sound intimidating. As he was charging her with his strike it seemed like he had tunnel vision with one objective, kill. this. person. Berric slightly underestimated her when the duel began but it may have been a mistake to underestimate any mandalorian. He clashed and his fist smashed against the Mandalorian's cracked visor. The pain and agony it was terrible, He msot likely would've retreated if not for his adrenaline which helped him flat out ignore it. After that he noticed...His astromech....his best friend. The droid that stuck by him in the worst times....through his fathers death,through his time and CorSec and even a few battles in Rogue Wing. Had been slain by...its master. It wouldn't be too difficult to see a tear flow from his face that was, at the moment.....emotionless. As if his mind reacted but his body barely did. Then the Mandalorian let out that laugh...that smug...bitchy laugh. It was like the shreak of metal being dragged upon metal. It hit the very foundations of Berric's emotions more so then to Zara when he eliminated her two comrades. The amount of rage he had accumulated in that short period was more then he had ever felt. More hten when his father or friends died. All of this for a machine, a set of programming but it didn't matter, it was still family...friend through everything. As the Mandalorian prepared for her next strike so did Berric. He stood at a stance to run aat her while wield his blade and when she launched her attack at him Berric couldn't gain the mental stability to stop himself. He charged at her,vibroblade over his head and he swung before she could make her lunge. He swung over and over and over again out of pure rage at her doing whatever damage he could.

 

[Saul Perth]

The brute power of the Mando was unquestionable, he fought like a man possessed. But very few in the galaxy could match a Jedi in sword to sword combat, much less one well trained in the art of swordplay. It only took a fraction of a second, although it seemed an eternity to the duelists.

At first, the Jedi struggled against the deadlock. Pure power forcing the lightsaber back slowly towards it's wielder's shoulder, inch by inch. Then faster, too fast. Perhaps it was the drugs beginning to wear off, perhaps fatigue, more likely both. By the time the Mando realized his mistake, it was too late to correct the path of heavy blade.

With a slight adjustment of his back foot, the Jedi allowed his lightsaber to give slightly, beginning to angle the sword safely to his right. Offering less resistance as the Beskar blade passed to safety. The weightless lightsaber continued it's reverse circular arc, momentum aiding it's motion.

There was nothing that could be done. The Mando could only watch as the blade of energy sliced up, cleanly slicing his hand off at the wrist. Stunned and defenseless, a quick flourish mirrored the wound on the other hand. A force push ended the flourish, launching the Mando against the durasteel wall, sending a burst of sparks from his jetpack and knocking him unconscious.

Saul could have killed him as he layed there, but his hand was stilled by voice from above.

"Four minutes remain until detonation."

Saul didn't even have to waste the time to kill him, the station would take care of that for him. With his lightsaber in his right hand, and the Beskar sword of his defeated enemy in his left, he calmly exited the control room. A twisted grin of victory concealed by his visor as he began his trek to the escape pods.

 

[Nike]

The pilot must have hit her harder than she thought, because for a moment it looked as if he were crying. For some reason, that caused unease to tug at the back of her mind. She couldn’t be bothered by it, though, so she tucked it away for later consideration. All that mattered now was that she had less than five minutes to dispatch of her enemy and get her vode off the possibly doomed craft.

Something inside the man seemed to have broken and he came at her with more fury and less calculation than before. As she made her lunge for him, he swung his vibroblade wildly at her head. Her reaction dulled by injuries and fatigue, she couldn’t bring her own blade up to deflect. The too heavy weapon slipped from her grasp as she dropped to the ground and rolled onto her back in an attempt to avoid the attack, leaving the beskad where it had fallen. He missed her head, at least, but his weapon landed hard on her armored shoulder with a clang and an ugly crack.

The fall had knocked the breath from her chest, and black spots clouded her vision for a moment. Her left shoulder, she was sure, was broken. She didn’t realize she was clutching her injury until she had scrabbled back to her feet. The attacks kept coming, fierce yet uncontrolled and unfocused. She was back where she’d started, only this time she couldn’t dodge as well and many of the blows hit, leaving bruises in their wake. If she could only get a moment of surprise, perhaps she could regain the upper hand. With her enemy blinded by rage, she didn’t think it would be difficult. The beskad would be impossible to get to now, let alone wield. A blaster would have been nice, but she no longer had one. Her last weapon was a vibrodagger tucked inside her boot, she reached for it now with her good hand and gripped it like a lifeline.

She knew firsthand the dangers of allowing yourself to be controlled by passion, hopefully the pilot didn’t. Hopefully, his thinking was as muddled as her own had been in the moments after her vode had been shot down. Hopefully, her jaro’la plan worked…

Vaguely, she recalled that a verd’s feet should never leave the ground as she backed up a bit before running as hard as she could and throwing herself to the floor. Hopefully before he had time to readjust his swings to her new height, she struck her good arm between his feet to attempted to slash the tendon on his ankle, crippling him for good. If that didn’t work, he’d probably at least get tripped up and fall, that would at least bring him to her level and allow her to do more serious damage.

 

[SwineOfTheSkies]

Berric made no noise but breathing as his blade swung from over his head to the female mandalorian that encompassed all of the rage Berric felt at that moment. He swung blindly at her not realizing if she were to dodge his attacks aw well as ignoring the noise of the blade as it clashed with the mandalorian. Aftar about thirty seconds he stopped to survey the damage he commited or atleast the damage that he hoped that he committed in his stupid, barbaric blind rage. Berric knew that he needed to regain control of himself and not let the mandalorian take control over his actions. He took one quick glance at the battered astromech. Seeing his best friend as a pile of scrap metal brought a shiver down his spine but in a few short seconds he contemplated the droid's possible recovery instead of resorting to absolute mourning over an uncertain decommissioning of his astromech.

He looked back from his from some of his brighter members now in the form of a pile of scrap metal barely keeping a resemblance to the astromech that not minutes ago was trying its best to help Berric in his fight with deceivingly powerful mandalorian. He looked back to his enemy and for a few brief seconds he saw her charging at him in a way that seemed cooridnated and planned instead of a simple reaction to Berric's last strike in an effort to end her life. She struck Berric in his leg which brought an immediate cracking noise. Berric felt pain of course but did his best to keep it within as he fell to the metal floor of the space station.

He grunted in pain as he reached to his belt mounted holster in an effort to equip his pistol and end the fight once and for all with a few blaster bolts to the enemy. He had undone the holster and slowly pulled his blaster to an upright, aiming position using his left arm for support and aiming down the sights of the pistol firing four shots at the mandalorian in the few moments in which he was able to keep the position stable.

 

[Nike]

He fell, like she knew he would. For a moment, it looked as if he would fall onto her and pin her to the ground. With a somewhat startled squeak she rolled to avoid him. Tears welled in her eyes as weight was put on her bad shoulder, but she had managed to get about half a meter from where he now laid. She remained there, sprawl on her back, for longer than she should have. She muted the speakers on her helmet.

Suddenly, the battle became something distant, all she heard was her own heart attempting to push oxygen into her weary limbs. Briefly she considered playing dead. Surely someone would drag her body into an escape pod, and if they didn’t at least she would have died in battle. It took conscience strength just to breath, let alone move again. But she had to. At least one more time.

In that quiet reprise, she wondered if Neph was alright and turned the com system back on. It didn’t take long to find out. “Two minutes to self destruction! The control room team has failed. Only one left alive; the Protector. We’ve got him with us now. I repeat, TWO minutes until self destruction.” Some of the tightness in her chest relaxed once she knew Neph was alive at least and being brought to the escape pods. With only two minutes left, all she needed was one last attack. For better or worst, this would be it for her duel with the damn pilot.

With her speakers still muted and the com turned back off, she collected what strength she had left and pushed herself up onto her knees. The pilot had unholstered his blaster and fired just as soon as she was up. The first shot flew harmless over her shoulder. The second was closer, and the third and fourth ones tore further into her injured shoulder. Already broken and screaming in pain, the extra shots did little to further wound her. Zara's fingers had stiffened around the dagger in her hand to the point that she couldn't release her grip if she wanted to. Later, a medic would literally have to pry it from her hand finger by finger. She got to her feet just long enough to stumble forward and collapse onto the pilot, aiming her weapon to dig deeply into her stomach. Whether it did, she wouldn't know until waking up in a medbay. She blacked out half way down.

 

[Saul Perth]

Spoiler: OOC

Ok, I think that's enough time. If anybody objects I'll edit my post, but I'm going to go ahead and wrap this up. Conclusion: Narrow victory for the Mandos. Duel 1: GA win, Duel 2: tie.

It wasn't far from the control center to the escape pods. Still, Saul encountered a few scattered Mandalorian soldiers. The automated voice rang out every fifteen seconds, not quite loud enough to drown out the sounds of battle as the Jedi made his way through the corridor. The Mandos he encountered had already suffered casualties, many were wounded and attempting to reach the escape pods and flee the station. In their disorganized state they were easily defeated in close quarters by the Jedi. All but one fell to his lightsaber, the last was felled by his people's own steel, the heavy Beskar blade sliced through the lighter protection around his throat.

As Saul turned the final corner, he noticed the pilot that had met up with him before. However he was not alone, a female Mandalorian lunged at him, a dagger held tightly in her hands. Before her strike could connect, an invisible force slammed into her, bouncing the warrior off of the durasteel bulkhead to her left. She appeared to be unconscious, and thus Saul didn't waste a second more before climbing into the closes escape pod. The pilot joined him a few moments later, a jumble of droid components in his hands. Once the two had taken their seats, Saul activated the pod and launched them to the planet's surface.

--THREAD END--​