Duel Desecration of Jedha | Jedi vs. Sith

[Lord Kizash]

I know...

Her response was fitting considering the style she fought in. Elegant yet aggressive. The last part of which I had yet to see more of and I was in for a rude awakening. She moved to my side and I followed. Jolting to the side as her lightsaber came back to life pointed straight at me. It was met with my right saber blade with a subtle tap. A strike to more so ensure that it wasn't going to nick my mid-rib or torso.

My eyes fell apon her every movement. She drew back with a slight leap and I followed. In retrospect it was my mistake. With the shift of her momentum the female jedis assaults continued on. There was more finesse than might in this movement pattern.

A furious swirling blur her blade became. And with it so did mine. It took me a seconds to see where I could interject but the opening was there. In the same motion My right blade mimicked her own. Treading backwards as she came, I snaked the distance and made good use of light precise footwork. Occasionally clashing lightly. It was an indication for one of us to speed up or slow down. A duelist display of skill.

I'd play the game before. Just as she was confident as a duelist, so was I and too much so. Pressed on defense was not the best position to be in and as the speed increased I smiled. I had a good chance of disarming her if I lunged, as long as I didnt overextend.

I went for it. My crimson blade etching along hers own as my arm extended straight. My grip switched and simultaneously activing the dual-phase function to extend the blade further toward her own hand and emitter.

Thats when I felt it. If I didnt realize my mistake early then I would of lost my hand. It was simple. She was faster than me. In a flash of shearing heat I jerked back out of pure instinct. Wincing in pain. My lightsaber hilt forcibly released from my grasp. My own hand barely attached at the wrist by muscle and tendons. Limp it hung and I reveled in the pain.

Seeking a release I brought my left blade forward in defense. And from my maw my deep voice gave deafening sound to the pain that surged through each nerve in my body. Blasting from my vocals in a wave of invisible telekinetic energy all around me.

Tags: Romi Jade

 

[Adriana Fortemps]

// Lord Inquisitor Fordyce //
// Jedha //
// Maynard Treicolt //

Kark...

The blue glow of her opponent's lightsaber threatening to gouge her eyes out as her lightsaber was thrown back from the clash once again. The heat of the blade lingered as it brushed close to her face, severing the hairs above her eyes. There was nothing she could do to prevent the next kick either, left vulnerable as she threw herself back to avoid losing her eyes.

The blow threw the Echani back as it connected, connecting to her midsection without any protection. Whatever force she thought would be behind the kick was exceeded by the power behind it, whether charged by rage or mechanics. A foot slid around to plant itself behind her, a hand reaching unwillingly to protect her damaged abdomen. Whatever rage Maynard felt would be returned in the burning amber eyes of Jorryn, refusing to be embarrassed so quickly.

The force had allowed her to stay herself from the ground and pivot her foot, a few fractured ribs worth regaining her footing. Maynard hadn't earned his reputation for no reason, a bothered look beneath staring across at the Jedi as Jorryn quickly raised her blade to a proper form before the Hero of the Alliance could press his attack.

"Over? Don't get arrogant, boy." Her words weren't churlish as they usually came out, venomous words returning her own poison. "A few battles won doesn't make you a real Jedi. You're just children toiling away at books."

 

[Iroh Gedari]

In other circumstances, Iroh might have invited this man over for tea.

As the Sith Lord bowed, he returned the greeting with a short bow of his own. “I am Iroh Gedari.” He replied to identify himself after Mordecai spoke. He, and those that had cared to find out, had learned of the power transition in the Sith Empire, but his hope that perhaps Lord Zambrano had been put in charge of troops was dashed.

Many say that it is the old who pick the fights and send the young to die for them. But the young had a tendency to jump into fights more readily than most old people, even those amongst the Jedi. The old master knew from experience, he’d been hotheaded himself in his younger days.

“While I appreciate your offer, unfortunately I am in similar circumstances. I cannot order an evacuation, and were I to suggest such action it would fall on deaf ears...” Iroh sighed before offering a sad, almost apologetic smile. “...which seems to place us at an impasse.”

His hands remained at his side, a soft breeze blowing by which sent his cloak a flutter, revealing the saber hanging from the left side of his belt. He made no move to draw it out, but kept his eyes on Mordecai.

This was why he hated politics...

( Mordecai Zambrano )

 

[Desbre Gensan]

​

Location: Sidestreets​

Equipment: Simple Jedi Robes, inherited lightsaber, light-filtering lenses, Hush-style comlink, aquata breather, liquid-cable launcher, stim pills, nutrient/food pack​

Tag: Calin Harr​

​

Except she stood around seven meters from Calin Harr , in broad daylight, in front of him, in the middle of the street. Until he brushed past her, ignoring her question like she wasn't even there. He seemed jumpy. Jittery. Hallucinating. But he was no glit biter. Glitterstim did things to a person, but more than that it amplified a person's natural ability in the Force for a brief time. Were he on it he would have felt her presence, and sensed her thoughts. No, this looked more like Blue. She'd known a couple racers on the circuit who had indulged. Des, despite her own experimentations, had never dared to touch the stuff, especially for racing.

That he was walking around, not only with a pair of blasters but a Sith lightsaber was troublesome. It was one thing to be hopped up on spice. Another to be armed in a battle zone. Where there were innocent people, and he was hallucinating his ass off. And now the moof-milker was throwing threats? She presumed it was at her, or another one of his hallucinations. Or maybe he thought someone else was hiding.

She considered the options she had. She could take his guns most likely before he knew what happened. That still left the saber. So long as people stayed out of reach, it was fine. But with that weapon, he could still do a lot of damage. Trying to wrest it away from him with the Force would be dangerous for him as he'd likely flail around. She could probably destroy it with her own. Or take his hand off. But she didn't want to injure him 'just because' even if he was a liable danger to the public. While he'd made a threat of sorts, he wasn't actually a threat to her, or even being terribly threatening.

And he was oblivious. She doubted she could get through to him. And even then, it would likely be an argument. She could possibly knock him out, but he looked scrappy at least. And on the Blue, his reflexes might be amped up enough she couldn't do it cleanly, or at all. Especially if it was pushing his adrenal system towards redline.

Recently on Voss, at the ruins of the Jedi Temple, she'd learned something new. And as such, she'd been practicing constantly. Force Stasis was an option in her toolbag. She could potentially lock him in place, disarm, and apprehend him relatively safely. The latter wasn't so much to bring him up on charges. But just to try to figure out who he was, why he was mixed up with the Sith, and if he could actually be helped.

Things hadn't escalated to that level yet.

Talking, negotiation, diplomacy was the first order of business. Or at least seeing if she could get him to surrender to her custody. Not that she thought he would. "Hey," she barked, letting her voice echo off the buildings, hopefully, to cut through the mental fog Calin was in. "I'm not a figment of your imagination. Put the weapons down." Gone was the soft and almost airy tone but a crystaline hard edge, crisp and clear in the twilight of the street.

​

 

[Calin Harr]

The damn spice, it was a useful tool half the time and the other half it left him bumbling around like a common Nar Shadda junky. When the Jedi spoke to him he twirled around cursing in some less-than-stellar huttese. In that moment, his mind turned from a distorted mess into the hyper-focused killer that had given Calin his reputation among the Pykes.

They always underestimated him, these high-and-mighty sorts. Jedi, Sith, and all those damn suited-up Imps. He stared Desbre Gensan down, eying the Jedi up and down a few times with his grip tight on his stolen saber. Ugh. Reminded him of one of those assassin sorts you met in the Underworld, just as quickly to knife you in the back just as they were to shake your hand.

He took slow, cautious steps. He was, by all technically, a sworn enemy of the Jedi now. And here was one starring him down, hell. This was quickly becoming quite the week.

"You know...apart of me is wishing that ya' were."

Eventually, he squared off to the woman, readying "his" lightsaber as though it was something closer to a bat than the elegant weapon it was.

"We used to use that trick all the time, disarm em', blast em'. But that isn't how you Jedi-types like to roll, is it?"

He scanned her over a few times, watching for form, the way she moved, every little opening that his rapidly darting spice-eyes could see. Calin may be a spice-head to rival even the mightiest of Pykes, but he had still been their strong-arm not too long ago.

 

[Romi Jade]

The smell of ozone flooded her nose, the area around them lit up in violent sparks and white flashes. She hadn't thought twice about her sequence, she'd fell into a bit of tunnel vision because she had to commit and commit fully if she was going to bare through this. They'd both went in for a deciding mark, racing to see who'd finish first...

At some point she felt some tension on her blade arm, but it gave just some milliseconds after. That's when she realized. He jerked back, and she slowly backpedalled. The blade of scarlet fire whirled up, and was poised. It seemed like there were minutes to spare during this internal cut scene they shared just now, but it was moving much quicker than that.

She could feel him wincing in pain deep down, and her nose was flooded with the sense of burning flesh -- what did she strike?

Then she saw it hanging there.

Her face screwed up, and her body posture told she was going to make the next move to finish this, but he'd not have that. She was starting to flourish her blade, and then time picked back up again. He'd let go a blood scattering scream of pure pain. One that carried kinetic energy that was concussive enough to knock her off her feet.

Normally, the range of her telekinetic barriers would prevent her being toss as such, but she hadn't the normal amounts of energy she had usually -- she was still recovering after all.

Much to her surprised he broke down those barriers and propelled her frame through a collision course and into a desecrated pillar.

Shit hit it -- Eheuhh!

And slid down its surface till she was crouched at its base; it was like getting the wind knocked out of you.

Argghh...

Lord Kizash

 

[Darth Interitus]

Upon hearing the woman speak. She spouted the same mantra as he had once before. Her words only displayed his old corrupted face in a manner of disgust of which came upon hearing the drone of the Jedi speak in such a way. Looking at her as she started to pummel the Sith that had been so utterly beaten. Now he only observed her.

No words were spoken in that moment. As she decided to send a man flying towards him. Interitus didn’t bother even moving a finger only stopping the man by a mere thought. Silencing his screaming by choking him through the Force. Letting his agony linger for only a moment before his end came swiftly through a snap of the neck.

“Let’s see if the Force still serves you, after I’ve made your death beyond excruciating.” He said as he approached her slowly. Removing the dark robe to reveal a scarred torso, pulling out an ancient looking saber. Activating with a hiss, the crackling blade was lowered downwards as he looked at his opponent. Stepping carefully gaging her movements.

Jyoti Nooran

 

[Cali Ziiva]

Cali's wide eyes peered up at the Sith as she stepped into the swing. Her hands held the hilt firmly as it had been brouht overhead and angled downward to catch the all too straightforward strike. There'd been a lot of ways to counter it, of course. Block, parry, two-tap slide... But those were all pretty obvious too. Not that this Sith might see that given how obvious their own movement had been.

"Come on," Cali said as the pheromones were unleashed, "there's no need for lightsabers between us." A smile curled her dark lips up the corners as her bright gaze stared up at them. Normally she concentrated on not letting her physiology influence every one around her seeing how Cali was a Zeltron off Zeltros. But in a fight? Well, if she could get through all that anger maybe this could end peacefully.

Yeah, probably not. Zeltron could try though.

Given disagreement as to future relations, Cali would likely be forced to shove the offending blade away to unlock her from the intimate proximity. It would only be a casual twirl to bring the tip of her saber down toward the Sith's shoulder even as she stepped back. Preferably a wound to disable, not kill. Wasn't her first fight, but, well, she wasn't a Sith about it.

Tag: Daeron

 

[Daeron]

As soon as Cali Ziiva attempted to use pheromones on the Twi’lek Sith, his face relaxed. Eyebrows raise more out of confusion. A brief lapse in his rage followed.

A very brief one, as Cali managed to slice the Sith’s swordarm off at the shoulder. The Sith screamed as he clutched his cauterized wound with his other hand. His lightsaber flew away to the side of the hallway.

As the Sith fell on his knees in pain, he spat, “Jedi filth!”

Fueled by his renewed anger, the Sith haphazardly shot back up from his knees and attempted to smash his head into Cali’s face.

 

[Cali Ziiva]

Feel The Force flowing through you... as it moves through the air, through the rocks...

The ebb and flow of The Force was pretty easy to feel, really. Maybe it was the open-mindedness of the Zeltron culture. Okay, okay, mostly open-mindedness -- cause they weren't really interested in learning how to subjugate the masses or torture people, you know? Or perhaps just their general awareness or being attuned to the emotions and well-being of other creatures -- which really wasn't too helpful right now because 'kill, kill, destroy, murder, kill' was the general vibe from the guy nearby.

Regardless of the whys and wherefors, there was only one response possible to the Sith's violent tendencies.

"Woop!" Cali leaned back and away from the man-made quarterstaff-missile-thing. She balanced on one foot while the other was brought up to try and shove the way too friendly Sith away.

Ended up about as well as expected, really. The Pink One let out an abrupt "Eep" as she toppled over backward into a roll. She came back up quickly to one knee. Her saber had snapped off during the roll -- didn't want to damage the floor and ground needlessly.

One hand lifted to rub the top of her head. "Hey, careful. You almost hit my face. Are you going to try and grope me next?" Whether that was an attempt at a joke, misdirection, or insult might be difficult to tell; and that was presuming it wasn't all three.

Tag: Daeron

 

[Darth Wyrm]

Elpsis Kerrigan

This was the fatal flaw of the Sith Lord.

He gloated too much.

Instead of pressing his advantage Darth Wyrm had been staring at the display of violence on Elpsis. Salivating (if snails can do such a thing) and soaking in the pain radiating from her pained form. Humans were delicious in that regard. They felt so keenly. So many emotions at play and their pain was simply exquisite.

It refreshed him.

Pushed away his own pain, made him forget about the seared smoke of his own flesh, all in favor of enjoying this moment where Wyrm brought a powerful opponent so low and dominated them.

This made Wyrm forget that Elpsis was a very real threat. A creature of fire who was not seeped in the Lightside. No, she too drew from her emotions to power herself (or so the Croke seemed to think in that moment), and that made her dangerous. The Sith realized belatedly that Elpsis was about to react, he took a hesitant step back and snarled. He steeled himself for another barrage of fire, but did not anticipate what came next. The inferno pylon streamed directly towards it.

Not him. Not the Feoorin, no, but it. The snail in the boot that controlled the illusion like a puppet. It screeched as it tried to crawl back, more layers of illusions being forced into reality to blunt the attack. This was the only thing that saved the snail. Even still, the oppressive fire scorched and raged, drying out wet tissue, causing eye bulbs to retract and draw back into the safety of slimy mass. There was pain there. And also fury at being seen, of being discovered and witnessed without permission.

His presence in the Darkside deepened, drawing from his own pain and hers, from the fury of now being known to being less than the Feoorin.

Just a snail.

But this snail was still a Dark Lord of the Sith and Wyrm was keen to prove it. Telekinetic force screamed out, tearing at the corridor they were in. Concrete and metal flying forced towards the Witch. To rip and render and tear, to force itself into exposed gaps of armor and fill already bloody wounds. Shrapnel and rock.

Even little things could hurt... if they were applied just right.

 

[Violet Horne]

Darth Daiara

This created room between them.

That was good, it allowed Violet to breathe a little, but also cut off both their escape route. If one of them wanted to go... it would either be through them or they'd have to cut like a maniac through the debris, while the other one was still breathing. A difficult prospect, but not entirely insurmountable with just enough motivation.

Violet didn't want to flee.

Her eyes screamed emerald and all that she wanted to do right now was end this thief. This danger who had come to defile a place of sanctity. It was not the mental presence of a Jedi. It should concern her and perhaps it will. Afterward. For now? She settled into a fight stance, sinking through her knees and keeping low to the ground as she directed one piece of furniture against the Sith after the other. A headache was already starting to form just behind her eyes however.

It was hard to keep this state of mind.

you are young, it will get easier...

If I survive. Violet thought grimly as she saw the cabinet rush towards her. She raised up the emerald blade, humming, as it cut the furniture clean in half. As clean as it can get anyway, since splinters of wood skipped past her defenses anyway. Cutting skin, her eyes tearing up at the sharp pain. a papercut only, don't be a baby

The pain and the mocking voice distracted her for just a moment.

This was all that Aradia needed to get right up against her, having followed close to the flying furniture, she only barely managed to deflect the lightsaber coming down like a hammer. In that state, where Aradia tried to press her advantage and cleave her in half, while Violet kept pushing her own bleeding lightsaber up to avoid this fate Violet was one again struck by how young the Sith was.

keep your mind in the game you imbecile, now

Her free hand moved on its own accord, lashing out to the front and sending a hard force blast into Aradia's face. If it succeeded in pushing her back, Violet would follow up by slashing the oversized lightsaber in the direction of her legs. Keep her off balance, while her instincts would ask to protect her face from any more telekinetic barrages.

How did I do that? I have never fought like this...

but i have.

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

Darth Wyrm

Now I see you. Elpsis felt the wyrm's pain and his incandescent fury, as the flames scorched him and she saw him for what he really was. Even as he retreated into his illusionary cocoon. However, her movement of elation was short-lived. Tiny the Sith might be, even the smallest things could be dangerous with the right application of force.

Her birth mother had been far from tall, after all. As had the Tiniest Titan, Matsu Xiangu . And so without further ado, the wyrm struck back with the fury of the dragon he might have imagined himself to be. Indeed, he proceeded to hurl what amounted to the entire corridor at Elpsis. Volleys of concrete and metal flew towards her.

It made it rather difficult to dodge. Telekinetic power rippled from her as she tried to blast projectiles away, whilst at the same time using her lightsabre to deflect. But there were too many. She staggered as pieces of metal struck her, but grit her teeth and forced herself to stand her ground. Then she cried out in pain when concrete slammed into her leg - the bad one that had never fully healed from Tephrike. She dropped down to one knee, furiously defending herself. The old injury returned with a vengeance.

The pain spiked when part of a concrete beam came undone and crashed down upon her. Her shoulder and back roared in pain. There was a snap of broken bones. She clung to her sabre, but it would be difficult to move her arm with any dexterity or speed. Fury rose inside her, and she fed on the wild fire that was surging through her body. She was fire, and fire was the element of passion, and fury.

In the Force she appeared incandescent. So she pushed the beam aside. She sought greater strength and the Lifeweb granted it to its servant. Fire was intrinsic to her, just as telekinesis was to her mother. But it was not the only power she could draw upon. Telekinetic power burst from her and slammed into the ceiling above the Sith in order to make it come asunder and crash down upon him. She was a Kerrigan, after all. In spirit rather than blood, but her connection was stronger for it.

 

[Daeron]

The Twi’lek Sith missed. Cali Ziiva pushed the Twi’lek back with a foot. The Sith stumbled backwards. The loss of his arm made it difficult to maintain his balance – so he too fell backwards. He landed backwards against a stone wall – barely missing an ancient, delicate sculpture.

“I’ll… kill… you… one... day...” the Twi’lek muttered as he passed out – his body could no longer keep him conscious with the pain and shock induced by the sudden loss of an arm.

Cali managed to subdue one threat to the temple. Yet with her new positioning in the hall and the moment of silence, Cali would hear a footstep just behind her.

If she turned her head, she would see Daeron slowly moving toward an exit in the hallway. He had been attempting to sneak by as Cali fought the Twi’lek Sith.

 

[Jyoti Nooran]

Without hesitation, the dark swordsman snuffed the life out of the flailing Sith before he even hit the ground.

So that's what I'm dealing with.

Not a shred of mercy had been shown to his fellow Sith (unless you counted the swift death), so she knew to expect much worse if he ever got the upper hand. Despite leading with a sword, he was clearly adept in the ways of telekinesis, requiring no physical gestures for aid in visualization. The Niman master knew well to be on lookout for such tricks of the "invisible" hand.

"At your passing, may you finally taste freedom in the Force," she chimed back, adding a sinister twist on the infamous Sith mantra.

While he paced slowly toward her, she bolted toward him at great speed, closing the distance within a single bound. She came up to his face, though offset to his left to avoid direct alignment with his blade. While boxing, her best bet was to hug him as close as possible to neutralize the superior reach of his blade and force projection abilities by applying constant pressure.

Right as her lead foot touched the cracked stone floor, her right arm shot out like a piston, fist aimed at his elbow to shatter it, her glove imbued with Force energies to make the blow all the more devastating in the event of a successful connection. Her other arm remained raised but loose for parrying.

Darth Interitus

 

[Desbre Gensan]

​

Location: Jed'ha sidestreets​

Equipment: Simple Jedi Robes, inherited lightsaber, light-filtering lenses, Hush-style comlink, aquata breather, liquid-cable launcher, stim pills, nutrient/food pack​

Tag: Calin Harr​

The lightsaber in her hand dangled almost loosely as though she was reluctant to use it. Her eyes were unreadable behind the light filtering lenses over her face. They were goggles like one might see on a racer or a factory worker. But as he spoke about disarming and shooting people she reached up to pull the lenses up, setting them on top of her head. Jedha was a hot, dry planet, though after the destruction visited by the first Deathstar it had cooled considerably. In the fading light of the evening, the shadow of the street, she didn't need it so much. The twenty-something pinned Calin in her pale gray, almost silvery gaze.

"I've never shot anyone, and I don't intend to start," Des said earnestly. Sure, when she'd been kind of a street rat like him, she'd carried a blaster and a blade. The only time she'd had to use her weapons was as a display, operating as a deterrent, at least outside of learning to use them. She didn't consider deflected blaster fire to be shooting someone. Just returning violence back to the sender.

Slowly she shook her head, a look of confusion crossing over her face. "Whyyyy? Why are you with these people," she asked, gesturing around at the city, meaning the attacking Sith. From what she could see, his presence didn't really make sense. Unless they'd promised him an endless supply of drugs, or something. "Did they promise you all the Booster you could ever want or something? You're just meat for the grinder to them."

Her weight was planted on her left foot, hip cocked out to the side a little, and her body itself was relaxed as though she were standing around, having a conversation with a friend. Concern mixed with bewilderment crossed her face as well. She was anything but hostile or presenting a threat, save for the weapon in hand, but even that seemed almost forgotten.

​

 

[Cali Ziiva]

Hm. Well she had cut his arm off. Total accident. Course that didn't exactly go over well with the person missing an arm even if they would accept her making them a shiny better one. Cali got that, you know? Like, she wasn't looking to lop off an arm either even if a mechanical one would totally be more efficient. She liked being her pink self.

It was nice the guy had passed out though. Like really nice. All that negative energy only aggravated the headache from her bumping her head.

A batting of the bright eyes followed the soft sound of movement. The Zeltron craned her head around to one side to peer back at the source. Stealth one, that. Odd they were being so sneaky though. Unless they'd come to steal something and didn't want to get caught or draw attention to the fact they'd acquired it. Wait, maybe it was something Cali would like to see too.

Cali rose back to her full stature as she casually held a hand out to retrieve the fallen saber. Hey, she loved a good glow stick as much as the nice gal -- okay, probably more than them -- but they were dangerous in the wrong hands. Like, the Sith unconscious there.

"Hey there," the pink one called out with a renewed smile. "I'm not looking for a fight, but if you've, uh, 'borrowed' anything could you please leave it behind?" They... hadn't come here just to watch had they? Well, they could have. Wouldn't be that odd. Kind of odd, but not that odd. "Also, probably best if you didn't hurt anyone on your way out." 'Cause if they tried then a Zeltron would have to start waving around a glow stick again. For the moment neither saber in her possession remained off, but still in her grasp. A peaceful resolution was always best, but when negotiations broke down... well, glow sticks were great for parties and ending hostilities. Starting hostilities, but also ending them.

 

[Daeron]

Daeron stopped as soon as Cali Ziiva spoke up. He took a sharp turn to square up to the Zeltron. He gripped an unignited lightsaber in his hand.

A blank stare greeted Cali. Silence from Daeron answered her words.

The chaos within the temple could be heard – muffled – in the distance.

Daeron took an apparent half-hearted stance. Then, he began to take steps backward – through the threshold he attempted to sneak to. He would simply walk away if Cali did not stop him.

And the path Daeron was going to go down would go deeper into the temple…

 

[Calin Harr]

Man, these Jedi sure were stupid. But he didn't act on that new information just yet, he might as well string Desbre Gensan on a little while longer: besides it beat being sliced up too much right now...in fact, the man immediately began to ponder if he could actually just talk himself out of the whole fight. Ha, yeah right.

"It ain't half as bad as the Holos make it out to be, it's real quick. You pull the trigger, bang, and the bastard is dead with a hole in their chest. Nice, clean, smooth."

He was a criminal for sure, all callous about the simplicity of murder. He could see more and more of the underestimation within the woman, seems the name Calin Harr hadn't actually went quite too far out of the Pykes. Good.

"Ha! Damn do I wish they did, do you know how hard it is to get good Spice with all these stiff neck Imps running around? But no, you wanna know why? It really ain't that complicated. It's a mean mean Galaxy out there, and I got a nice fat Death Mark on my head. I don't have time for all your Jedi cop garbage, dog eat dog Galaxy friend. And damn do I got a lot of dogs gunning for my behind out there."

He took note of her relaxed pose, giving it a slight nod a few times before he loosen his grip on "his" lightsaber. Eventually just shutting it off, and tossing it to the earth below as a sign of "good faith".

 

[Cali Ziiva]

Blink, blink. Cali's head slowly tilted to the right in pace with the Sith's steps. "Uh, gal j'us kais nenx?" <Sith: Could you, like, not?> Her eyebrows arched upward with the sentiment dropped between them. Maybe they didn't understand Basic. That was possible. Really, really, really unlikely, but possible.

"I don't get why Sith only speak in glow stick," the Zeltron sighed. While she didn't turn either saber on yet, the pink woman started to advance toward Daeron at a faster pace than they were trying to 'sneak' further into the temple. Like, not a fast pace, but certainly faster than the 'if I barely move maybe she won't notice' one the guy was using.

Cause, you know, she totally noticed.

And the sound of fighting really didn't allow for 'let the Sith wander wherever, whatever.' Like there were probably unarmed people further in trying to avoid combat. Put a cutey like her in a tough spot. All the negativity really wore on a girl, but sometimes a Zeltron had to hold her nose and fight the darkness. "Exit's the other way," she added as the distance closed with her finger ready to ignite the blade.