Dominion Dark Harvest: Wildfire | Mandalorian Enclave Dominion of Shola

[Aela Wren]

I R O N S T A R
ROAD TO ALOR
MAIN TALZ SETTLEMENT | VLEMOTH PORT
TAG: Hyperion | Valery Noble | Iris Arani

KILL OR BE KILLED​

"You-- again?"

They both tumbled to the ground, Shel's jetpack speeding them to the soft peat of swamp soil.
"Yeah me." Shel growled before the dar'manda's crushgaunted fist connected with her buy'ce as they hit the ground. jarring her teeth - she was sure she felt one chip. "Di'kut!" she snarled as she decked a crushgaunted fist right back at his own covered jaw.

Kicking off the ground to roll over him and onto her feet, she drew the kal from its sheath on her belt while deploying the energy shield from her vambrace.
"The hell is your problem with our people, besom?" she asked him, settling into a stance to tackle him with a knife if he dared moved against her.

She'd gut him quicker than a fish if needed.

 

[Fenn Stag]

"What is thy name? And he said, Legion: because many devils were entered into him."

​

Equipment: Beskar'Gam l Crushgaunts l Disruptor Pistol l Beskar Knife l Jetpack l Combat Rifle l Combat Stims l Cigar and a lighter l Wrist Mounted Flamethrower l x3 Grenades

Tags:

Valery Noble l Shel Beroya l Iris Arani l Hyperion



He looked at the padawan that spoke to him.


"Aren't we all."

He dismissed her claim, perhaps out of not believing her- or perhaps out of denial. The very thought that he could succumb to the disease as much as any other person- well, that frankly terrified him.

And he didn't want to succumb. So he would refuse to die unless he wished or another enemy killed him- not a possession, not a sickness of the mind and soul.

"I will aid the people there."

He made it clear that he did not wish to help the Jedi. In fact, he didn't like the Jedi- clearly. It wouldn't even take the Jedi's attunement to the force to realize that. Turning his body, he began to trek through the jungle, the jungle giving way to his lumbering, armored frame. He stopped, crouching down suddenly in the midst of the jungle. He raised up a hand, before reaching to his forearm, withdrawing the combat knife from it's sheath....

He waited a few more seconds before one of the infected took it's chance in the clearing. Bracing it's neck with his armored forearm of his left arm- he punched it twice, then plunged the knife behind it's ear. He let it fall down gently, whispering a prayer to make sure the soul of the damned one was finally let rest, in a very quiet, hushed tone behind his helmet.

"There may not be anyone left unaffected. Prepare yourselves."

​

 

[Lycia]

​

Zombies. That's what most were calling them. Boring is what Werewolf called them. Her axes made short work of them as she danced around, almost not even worth the blunting of the blades. Not that they ever did but still, it was boring. Holding off this avenue with most of the infected being little more than... well they were entertainment for a bit but now she was bored

Open to all

​

 

[Hyperion]

The dar’manda’s Mandalorian armor was bigger, stronger and far rougher than what the usual beskar’gam was. It could be no other way. As part of those Mandalorians who once served in the Crusade’s fleets, his armor had not only to withstand a potential long period of time in zero-g, it had to be built with the endurance and firepower capable of tackling starfighters directly. A War Machine on its own.

And yet, her fething punch still hurt. The strength of Mandalorian crushgaunts had no equal. They could bend wings of fighters and punch dents into the hulls of freighters and corvettes with enough dedication.

“I dont even care about your people, woman.” Rohak growled as he rolled back on his feet to face her. A vibro-cutlass drawn in his hand, while the carbine remained on the ground, dropped upon impact.

“This is easy money. Just business.” he stated, a bloodied grin shaping beneath the helmet.

“Nothing personal.”

His free wrist snapped up and unleashed a salvo of fast, repeater fire at her tearing the ground to pieces where it missed the target.​

Shel Beroya Valery Noble Iris Arani
Fenn Stag

 

[Aela Wren]

I R O N S T A R
ROAD TO ALOR
MAIN TALZ SETTLEMENT | VLEMOTH PORT
TAG: Hyperion | Valery Noble | Iris Arani | Fenn Stag

KILL OR BE KILLED​

“Nothing personal.”

When his arm whipped up, Shel brought her own offhand up to allow the shield the tank the brunt of the shots while she kicked off the ground, her replusor boots allowing her hover in the air. But she wasn't fast enough for the first two shots that bit into the padded undersuit of her upper arm just below the pauldron.

She grit her teeth against the searing pain, which didn't help the damnable pain in her jaw.
"I take that personal!" she hissed out loud, whipping forward the hand holding the kal to send her own salvo from her wrist blaster at him. "You can bloody earn more by working with us instead of against us, di'kut!"

<Picking up a helluva lot of movement out there.>

Jane was huddled behind a deserted food stall as she checked her readings.
<Yeah, no shit - there's a bunch of our neighbours that turned rabid out there!> Kel barked from the perimeter.
<No, I mean besides them. Organics moving our way.>
<Yeah, it's probably the Jedi, dumbass.>
Jane clicked her tongue at him. <Well, they are on the doorstep. You heard the Alor'ad.>
Kel's visor glared at her for a heartbeat. <Yes, thank you, verd.>

It was quiet again, the infected hanging back. All the Mando'ade on the perimeter breathed a relieved sigh and lowered their weapons for the time being.
<Padawan Iris, this is Kel. What is your situation? Need a hand?> Kel tried contacting Iris Arani again. They had been awfully quiet for a while. He couldn't exactly spare members of his defence team to look for them, but he would if push came to shove. One thing was certain - the Clans on Vlemoth Port never in the past 900 years, had any issue with Jedi.

Then again, they had been isolated for a very long time as well.

 

[Jas Katis]

VLEMOTH PORT | SANSHUR FLATS
[REDACTED] | HELLION PRIVATE MERCENARY GROUP
ALLIES: N/A
ENEMIES: Mandalorians
ENGAGING: Lycia | OPEN
GEAR: In bio | unit equipment

SYNCHROTONE​

Scarif was an absolute disaster, no if’s or but’s about it. A long time of planning and setting up, gone in the wake of one person in the wrong place at the wrong time. The worst part about it was that it wasn’t even his problem, the lab coats were supposed to take care of it. But he got the short stick with the cleanup situation.

And his mission was absolutely terrible.

Getting a “living” one was the last thing Jas or his team wanted to do, in a sea of infected people that would tear them to shreds in a heartbeat. Another full-scale battle against the Maw was more appealing than this. At least the hazard pay was through the roof, likely the only reason they went willingly without the threat of a “disciplinary hearing” looming over their heads.

:: Check those corners. :: Jas spoke through the comms, making sure his helmet’s annunciator was off. Just like Lyran, they left their official markings at the base. Last thing the company needed was concrete evidence. Making sure their suppressors were affixed on all their weapons, his team of six troopers stuck to a tight formation as they moved through the city in search of a few good samples. They technically only needed one, though a bonus was on any extras they brought in.

:: Sir, contact front. :: Crackled the voice of one of his troopers as they halted in an alleyway. The Pureblood adjusted his macrobinoculars to study the lanky, armoured figure in the distance. :: Tin can. ::

:: Ignore or blacklist, sir? ::

:: Won’t be able to move around, they’re too sharp. We do it quietly, don’t wanna draw the rest. ::

Like one hive mind, the armoured troopers quietly snuck through the city, checking every corner as they kept an eye on the Mandalorian with their vision modes. Carefully they set up a firing line in the shadows, masterfully working in absolute silence.

Except for a shop that wasn’t as empty as they believed. A shriek startled the troopers as an Infected man crashed into one of them, knocking over a table and chairs as the troopers scrambled to kill it. :: Crap… ::

 

[Valery Noble]

Outfit | Weapon | Appearance

Location: Vlemoth Port
Objective: In the Jungle
Armor: Shadow Gear

"No, we're not," Valery said through the mask that distorted her voice when he dismissed Iris' claims. She hadn't expected Iris to be so direct about what they felt, but it was best to address it now, or they'd be taking a lot of risks. Of course, there was no way to be certain that his condition was the same plague that had been spreading around, but it was far too suspicious considering he had been actively fighting against these zombies.

The last thing she wanted was for him to turn against them suddenly or ravage the village up ahead.

"You know something is up," she continued to further press the issue, "If you've been infected, you're only going to endanger the people you're trying to protect here."

He held up his hand and Valery paused before he took down one of the zombies. She raised her blade and stood ready to take down any that appeared, but her stance towards him had changed as well.

"You can't possibly be that selfish. Until we know what's up with you, it's in everybody's interest that you're restrained."

Iris Arani Fenn Stag Shel Beroya Hyperion ​

 

[Iris Arani]

"You're in control."

The colors weaved and shifted through all life around them. Different shades of blues, reds, yellows. Colors she didn't even know the word for. Life had it's own color. This plague had it's own too. Fenn was infected, there was no doubt in her mind. But he was still himself. Early stages? How long until he turned? Questions that needed answers, but there were none to be had in the briefing she went through on the way to the planet.

"Master, he wants to help. I'll keep an eye on him. .. These are his people."

She could respect that much. Her blade swiped around, removing the head from another of the turned. It pained her to take life, even life that was already dead. But there was no other choice. No room for hesitation.

"If you loose control, I'll give you the death you desire." Her gaze flicked back to the Mandalorian, her masked face betraying none of her own emotions. But she could see his, clear as day. She could always see.

<Padawan Iris, this is Kel. What is your situation? Need a hand?>

Iris let her gaze linger on Fenn for a moment longer, then turned to click on her com.

:: We're fine, had a mix up with the local wampas. On our way to the coordinates. ::

Fenn Stag | Valery Noble | Shel Beroya

 

[Hyperion]

The first series of blasts dented the armor, staggering the pirate back before a circle of energy erupted from his vambrace fending off the heavy salvo sent his way. An older version of the shield she used, almost ancient even. From the days before Mandalore's annihilation. The days before the rule of the Pretender.

The days before avarice claimed his heart for eternity.

"Sounds like a you problem!"

"Salaries just aren't my style, you see... there's much more to be made taking from everybody." a wicked grin curved his lips and he spat a jeering taunt in Mando'a. "Like a real Mandalorian."

A compartment on his right shoulder slid open and a shatter beam canon raised its lethal head. The torrid stream of laser surged forward with such aggression and destruction that even the heavy armored dar'manda had to take a few steps back.​

Shel Beroya Valery Noble Iris Arani Fenn Stag

 

[Toltec]

h̶̛͍̺̜̞̅͊̂̽͛̒̈́͝͝ ..ē̵̡̻͕̤̝͕̣̮̲̻̞̣̌́̌̂̎͝ ..l̶̢̲̣̓̑̐̏̍͆͒͒̅̇̕ ...p̶̢͓̪͙̲̹͑̀͆͆͂͐̈́ ... ̸̢̨̼̪͕̹͇̰̭̤̰̼̘̑̄̂̓̒̒̚m̵̡͇͍̫͕̫̋̊͊͊́̏̔͌͑́̋͊̕͘...e̸̡̨̛̖͕͓̪͔̻͔͎͇̜̞̱̒̒͝



In the underbrush of the misty jungle, a Mandalorian soldier - unaffected yet by the infection - sat under the iron grip of a elongated metal hand. His hands were gripping the wrist of the unknown assailant as he barely whispered his plea, the dying words of a soldier past defeated. Blue tendrils of smoke and energy seemed to be emanating towards the stranger, erupting out the bottom of his beskar helmet. A soft pink glow gently traveled through the vegetation as the source gripped tight enough to begin crushing the helmet. Such strength to bend beskar, very few metals could perform the feat. Perhaps the individual was wearing beskar itself.

As the man barely struggled, the individual's piercing pink gaze blasted through it's hooded shawl and into the surroundings, visibly seeing few blasterbolts and an explosion erupt in the distance. It's free hand reached to adjust the shawl, pulling it tighter around it's face as if to better protect it's identity. As the stranger did this, it's Mando'ade victim began to visibly shrink and become thinner, more enfeebled, as if his very life essence was being drained in real time.

"Do you know..." a soft, metallic growl whispered from the shawl as the figure bent down.

"Do you know the story of the Taung?

Conquerors of the Core. The first of their kind. The founders of civilization and Coruscant, the Great Makers of this Galaxy."

The frail, dying soldier could barely utter a groan in response.

"Do you ever wonder what happened to them?"

The armor of the man clanked forward with a crash in the underbrush, falling to the ground, his body reduced to a thin lining of sacked meat on bones. In one fell swoop his head released from his helmet's grip, as it remained in the stranger's unyielding grasp.

"Hm."

A pink glaring eye dashed through the darkness of the concealing shawl, as more threats yet to be faced wandered the wetlands and jungles surrounding the quiet settlements of Vlemoth Port.

 

[Fenn Stag]

"Stretch out your hand toward the sky so that darkness spreads over Egypt – darkness that can be felt."

​

Equipment: Beskar'Gam l Crushgaunts l Disruptor Pistol l Beskar Knife l Jetpack l Combat Rifle l Combat Stims l Cigar and a lighter l Wrist Mounted Flamethrower l x3 Grenades

Tags:

Valery Noble l Shel Beroya l Iris Arani l Hyperion




He stopped. And then- Fenn stood up.

His lateral muscles filled out, fanning out his large, wide, and very muscular back- spread out, his back to the Jedi behind him. He held the knife in his hand, his body finally turning to face the Jedi.

That dared speak against him.

His eyes darted between the two Jedi. The Master was clearly intent. The padawan wasn't. The Padawan in fact, hesitated. Crushgaunts curled around the knife, then relaxed. A lull, a feint.

His body only angled slightly forward, arms outstretching- and his jetpack activating. His body, his muscle mass, compounded with the Supercommando Armor- came barreling towards the Master Jedi after she threatened him- at a very fast, very close pace.

He made no more conversation. No more words. The Jedi threatened him. But in the eyes of the Padawan- the dark reds, the angry oranges and the hues of hatred shifted. He was still in control. But it was as if a rain cloud had fallen over his mind.

The infection had begun to set in- before his body would give in, Fenn's mind would not break, succumb as the others had. It would make worse what was already there. And that rage, that hatred that the young man carried with him, was only made worse. And the Jedi's half-hearted attempt to get him to comply was now met with the one thing his mind knew more than words, peace, and love:

Violence.

​

 

[Lycia]

"I see you" The voice echoed around the small alleyway, the troopers only looking away for a second but that was more than enough time for the Werewolf. Into one building out of sight., up the stairs, onto the balcony, an elevated position. Blades humming with energy, moving much faster than even a Selonian should be able to.
It was almost as if the sky got darker, the softly building dread in every soul below it. The axes consume their host needing blood and slaughter.
AND THE VICTIMS WERE PLENTY!

In a flash, it jumped down from the second floor coming in behind one of the troopers. How it spotted the unfortunate soul wasn't exactly clear, but what they would see is the helmet had an open maw as it gave an almost unnatural howl.
Blood, blood, slaughter. Rip and tear, rend and rip. Spill the blood and split the sinew and tendons free.
Axes move perfectly to cut through the one in front and barely a moment is wasted moving on to the next. The Selonian was far too close and fast for this group to bring their guns to bear, and the other group risked hitting their comrades.
Not that it matters, the betrayal makes the slaughter oh so sweet.

CONSUME!

Open to all
Jas Katis

​

 

[Jas Katis]

VLEMOTH PORT | SANSHUR FLATS
[REDACTED] | HELLION PRIVATE MERCENARY GROUP
ALLIES: N/A
ENEMIES: Mandalorians
ENGAGING: Lycia | OPEN
GEAR: In bio | unit equipment

SYNCHROTONE​

The precious seconds lost from the interruption was all their enemy needed to notice them and disappear into the shadows. The troopers looked around with weapons at the ready, but there was no trace of the Mandalorian, apart from the voice echoing around them.

Things went south immediately as an axe tore into one of the troopers before he could even register what happened. Particle shots went off and tore through walls and furniture as the soldiers tried to corner the Mandalorian, only for another to be torn apart by her brutal weapons. :: Fall back. :: Jas instructed as he stepped forward with rifle in hand, intent on meeting the Mandalorian head on.

:: Get a sample and get to Overlord. I’ll take care of her. :: He ordered with a stern voice without taking his eyes off the woman. He held his rifle in his right hand and drew his bayonet with the other, ready to hold her back. ”Aren’t you all supposed to be extinct already?” He quipped as he towered over the woman.

The other troopers scrambled out of the area, moving as quickly as they could to find an Infected person and get back to their ship, without drawing any other attention to themselves.

”Let’s hope you can at least make up for the time you wasted.” He continued, moving in to swing at her with his bayonet while his rifle served as an improvised shield.

 

[Valery Noble]

Outfit | Weapon | Appearance

Location: Vlemoth Port
Objective: In the Jungle
Armor: Shadow Gear

Her eyes shifted to Iris before she nodded in acknowledgment. It was fantastic to see how much she had matured, how she was always in control of herself now — Valery knew she could trust her with so much more than before. Iris was no longer the little girl she rescued from slavers after she had tagged their compound with paint. The painting hadn't changed, but everything else had.

"Alright, let's just keep an-"

Valery stopped as she felt the Force around the Mandalorian darken the way it usually would before someone readied themselves to fight, and possibly kill. Then with a blast of speed produced by the jetpack activating, the armored figure exploded towards her. Within a split second, she augmented herself to match his speed and raised a hand in an attempt to push him back with the Force, but the lack of time only allowed her to slow him down a little.

Her other hand came up while she braced herself, and when he collided with his arms outstretched, her own would connect with his shoulders to keep him at arm's length while his momentum got her to slide across the ground. Luckily, her own armor added a lot of weight as well, and she was using the Force to strengthen herself, but it was still a tricky situation.

Fighting someone this armored without wanting to kill them was never an easy task. In some ways, perhaps more difficult than trying to kill them, as using brute force and heavy impacts were off the table.

<T> "Iris!" Valery called out telepathically, hoping her Padawan could take advantage of her and Fenn being in the lock.

"Stop this!" she then called out to Fenn, "Every minute we waste here, people die. Your people!"

Iris Arani Fenn Stag Hyperion Shel Beroya ​

 

[Iris Arani]

Aggression.

The colors changed, and Iris didn't hesitate. Her eyes could lie to her, but the colors never would. Her blade snapped up, ready to strike out and bring the Mandalorian down as he charged forward. Only, he didn't charge for her.

And he was far faster than she expected.

Surprise took over her features behind the mask as he jetted by. The jetpack. Mandalorians could use a jetpack like that? Inexperience showed as she turned just in time to see her Master catch the Mandalorian. She took off. The blue of her saber retreated back into it's handle before a similarly colored blade replaced it. But without the hum of plasma. Without the heat. The Entropite crystal within wouldn't harm. Wouldn't kill. Just knock the man out.

Hopefully.

She leapt, a blur of movement to close the distance as she brought the cold blade around for the only gap she could think of between the Bes'kar plates. The back of his neck.

Valery Noble | Fenn Stag

 

[Fenn Stag]

" 'There is no peace,' says my God, 'for the wicked.' "

​

Equipment: Beskar'Gam l Crushgaunts l Disruptor Pistol l Beskar Knife l Jetpack l Combat Rifle l Combat Stims l Cigar and a lighter l Wrist Mounted Flamethrower l x3 Grenades

Tags:

Valery Noble l Shel Beroya l Iris Arani l Hyperion



Their arms interlocked, physical strength, raw brute force, anger and wrath facing the measured strength, the resolve of the Jedi drawing from the force. But his crushgaunts reached around, starting to reach for the Jedi's body.

"Then what's two more?"

Cold blooded as they came when it came to killing and the business of war, Fenn's words made no question of his intentions. His head turned to the Jedi Padawan, who found her violence in her.

Good.

His head turned towards the leaping Padawan. And his helmet went forward. The blade scraped along the Beskar, sliding down his armor, scraping off the freshly painted off memorial to the fallen team. This only seemed to enrage him further. He looked over quickly- the flamethrower mounted to his left wrist, held in a lock by the Jedi elder. With a sneer, he pulled his mighty arm, fighting the force, the Jedi- all just to gain a better angle....

To let the flamethrower shoot across his body and the Jedi Master's... towards her Padawan. And while the Elder Jedi no doubt was distracted by her love for her pupil... Fenn shot his left leg between hers, attempting to hook his foot behind the Valery's heel- and shoved forward with his body to put her off balance.

The difficult task the Jedi faced was that Fenn was not only trained for war, that he was not only a Mandalorian, a Supercommando now, at that, but of all other things- Fenn was bred for war. A genetically perfect, physically perfect copy of one of the deadlier Mandalorians to walk the galaxy. And with none of the knowledge, limitations, or experience in life Preliat had- he failed to see how foolish he was being. And there was no reasoning. No bargaining. No talking sense into him. There was now only the fight.

Part of him knew that it was wrong what he was doing, that he wasn't himself. But there was something else. A demonic voice in his mind. Telling him to kill, to survive. That he had other things to do. The Jedi were in the way of it. They were stopping him. And they needed to be stopped. Needed to be stopped, to be stopped, to be stopped, to be consumed, to be stopped, to be stopped....

​

 

[Valery Noble]

Outfit | Weapon | Appearance

Location: Vlemoth Port
Objective: In the Jungle
Armor: Shadow Gear

Her plan to restrain the Mandalorian so Iris could follow up with a precision strike worked as intended, but the hit wasn't quite enough to stun him. It was a solid attempt though, and as long as they kept trying, she remained hopeful this could end without unnecessary death. But as with all enemies, she had to remain focused and open to the idea that this wouldn't end in an ideal way. Combat followed no easy formula, and Mandalorians were never to be underestimated.

"Then what's two more?"

Those words confirmed the worst for her — there was likely no talking him out of this. He was committing to killing the two Jedi, so she had to be committed to taking him down no matter what as well. It wasn't a philosophy most Jedi subscribed to, but this is why she was in the position that she was within her order.

With an adjustment of his arm, Valery felt a sudden pulse of danger, not for herself, but for her Padawan. It faded quickly, however, as flames left his vambrace and were moving to consume the young Jedi. But Valery knew Iris would be able to handle them, and remained focused on the Mandalorian, who pushed his foot between her legs and stepped into her. This was the moment Valery decided to use a trick of her own, and rather than meeting him with strength, she tapped into the Force and her Shadow training to phase through him.

It was a trick that generally only worked once, but in this case could off-balance him instead, while she ended up behind him. Of all Jedi he could have been up against out here, she was glad it was her.

Turning around with Force-augmented speed and strength, Valery followed up with a kick aimed at his back, hoping to further off-balance him and hopefully set him up for another move made by her Padawan.

Iris Arani Fenn Stag ​

 

[Aela Wren]

I R O N S T A R
ROAD TO ALOR
MAIN TALZ SETTLEMENT | VLEMOTH PORT
TAG: Hyperion | Valery Noble | Iris Arani | Fenn Stag | Toltec

KILL OR BE KILLED​

"Bastard!"

Shel just dove, the boots aiding in the mobility to get out of the way of stream of energy. In the movement, her jetpack roared back to life and she arced back toward him.

"The hell is wrong with you?!" This fecker was hopeless. Or he seemed to be, at least. Not that she had time to dwell on his redemption at the moment. Protecting her people from threats was paramount. Even if it meant taking out one that walked, talked and dressed like a Child of Mandalore.

She lowered her head and the jetpack released one of its missiles at him. In flight, she pulled a pistol and let loose with golden bolts for good measure.
<Alor'ad, don't destroy the settlement in the process!> Evelyn's voice cut through the comms from where she was sweeping in her own arc to reengage with one of the crew.
The Nautolan gritted her teeth. There was only one thing that can properly pierce beskar - and that was beskar.

Gripping the kal in her hand, she slammed right into the dar'manda once more...

 

[Iris Arani]

Danger. Fire?

Iris's eyes narrowed as the colors shifted. She moved back, swiped her blade up. A lightsaber by nature couldn't block fire of all things. But the crystal she used to try and knock the Mandalorian out instead of kill him? It consumed the very flames before her. Well, as much as it could anyway. The raw heat of the blast had her skittering back through the swampy waters to make distance. Keep herself as unsinged as possible.

The virus, whatever it was, was consuming him.

She reached out, through the colors. Mixing hers with her master's. Two perspectives to become one. In tandem with her master's kick Iris dove back in, her blade trusting out for another gap under Fenn's arm lightning quick. They could still subdue him without killing him. He wasn't too far gone. Not yet.

Valery Noble | Fenn Stag

 

[Fenn Stag]

"Turn away from evil and do good; seek peace and pursue it."

​

Equipment: Beskar'Gam l Crushgaunts l Disruptor Pistol l Beskar Knife l Jetpack l Combat Rifle l Combat Stims l Cigar and a lighter l Wrist Mounted Flamethrower l x3 Grenades

Tags:

Valery Noble l Shel Beroya l Iris Arani l Hyperion




The fire was burning the fire was burning. The fire was burning the fire was burning.

Eyes darted around in a panic behind the helmet. Sweat clinged to his body like a blanket. He screamed when the Jedi shifted before him. Trickery, savagery, they were not there where was she did she go? His breathing was ragged when she kicked him. Fenn went flying forward- aided by his jetpack to put some distance between them. The Padawan's lightsaber met with only air.

He collided with the ground, impacting it, leaving a trench of dirt in his wake. B ut he didnd't fieel it.

He pressed his hands into the ground, pushing up himself to feet.

Stand.

Stand and fight.

Burn.

Had to burn.

Had to fight.

Had to live.

Could not be stopped here.

had to burn

had to burn.

He sprayed his flamethrower in an arc, half encircling the trio. He turned, his hands low at his side, fingers outstretched. He looked between the two Jedi, his breathing ragged and rapid.

Had to fight had to fight, so he pulled his Disruptor pistol. And while advancing towards them, he fired, indiscriminately, uncontrolled, but rapid shots at close range from a Disruptor pistol of all things.

had to fioght had to keeop fighting where was he


father's meals after hunts were always with bread, made the soup better. Preliat wasn't his real father. Where were his brothers where was he where was his father he wanted to go home, he wanted to go home where was he, why couldn't he stop where was he where was he where, he missed the stars why couldn't he see the stars

​