Heavyweights

[Viviana]

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Naboo​

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In a local bar on the planet Naboo an unusual patron sat at one of the tables. Several chairs rested underneath his bulky form, and even sitting his head almost hit the light fixture above. Even as he sat there he was still dangerously close. Calder had finally made it off of his homeworld and into the vast galaxy, and had finally found one of the Jedi allies he had met in the Netherworld. Here in this bar he was enjoying the Rodians company, discussing what had happened after they all left, how he had gotten here, what the Jedi's plans were. How to join the Jedi.

Good friends simply sat and enjoyed their talk, unknowing that only one of them was to leave.

[member="Nisha Skaiyr"]

 

[Nisha Skaiyr]

Dirzu Eendo was a particularly troublesome Jedi. A former member of the New Jedi Order, the Rodian had a strong sense of justice, a wide web of underworld connections, and an independent streak a mile wide. Recently, he'd turned his attention upon the Pacanth Reach, orchestrating slave escapes, guerrilla strikes against military installations, and the dispersal of Anti-Zambrano Propaganda on several Reach planets. In short, he would have made the perfect ally for Nisha, if not for two factors.

The first was his strict adherence to the Jedi Way. Despite his flippant attitude towards authority, he was a man of principle - noble and worthy of respect, but unfortunately, those principles he adhered to meant that he would not associate with the likes of the Indoumodian. The second problem was that Carnifex had ordered his death, with his lightsaber as proof of the kill. Could she talk to the Jedi? Perhaps, if he did not attempt to detain her upon reading her aura. But even, so she would not take his weapon from him - not unless she killed him for it. He was worth that small token of respect, at least. Death by battle.

A ragtag group of criminals, mercenaries, and general scum of the Galaxy stood in a semi-circle behind Nisha. All of them experienced in fighting Force Users, all of them loyal to the Witch for one reason or another - credits, favors owed, lives saved.

With a silent signal from Nisha, the operation began.

The first step was to make sure that the non-combatants didn't get in the way - to that end, smoke grenades crashed through the windows of the tavern, blinding all those who could not see through the Force. The Witch drew her blade, Kahre Narsa, and dashed inside, where, as expected, Dirzu was waiting for her, bright green blade visible even through the smoke.

The duel was exhilarating.

Jedi versus Sith. Light versus Dark. Calm, grounded defense versus malignant, nimble aggression. It looked to be a stalemate - she couldn't get through his defense, he couldn't find an opening in her offense. The best she could do was drive him back, lead him around the battle-ground. Luckily for her, that was all she needed to do, because as soon as she got him through the door and out into the streets - krak, krak, krak, krak. Four blaster bolts sped through the air - one connected at each thigh, one at each shoulder. The shots were amateur, and if the Jedi hadn't been distracted by the Witch, they would've been easily deflected.

But as it was, he fell to his knees, crippled and disarmed.

A quick chop to the skull finished him off, and Nisha pulled her trophy to hand through the Force.

---

[member="Calder Icehammer"]

 

[Viviana]

"You remember those monstrosities? Did you ever figure out a name for the-" An abrupt crash followed by the hiss of smoke that filled the room cut off Calder from finishing his sentence. What happened next was a blur to the large being as he tried to stand and move. Coughing was all he could hear as he stumbled around in the smoke filled room. He hit his head off the fan he had been so close to. He stumbled over chairs.

It wasn't until the repeat of blasterfire that he had an idea on what had happened. All of a sudden his friend, a man he trusted with his life, ceased to exist. The spirits that had whispered of him fell silent, just as what happened when an elder of his village died. It cut into him like a knife, and as he finally escaped the smoke filled bar he watched [member="Nisha Skaiyr"] crack open his skull.

A roar escaped his lips as he saw such a heinous act. He couldn't help himself. His friend, a man whom Calder would die for, so callously murdered. It was anger that traveled through his mind, but as he gripped his hammer, wanting to strike, he knew better.

"Lay down your weapon, little one. You are under arrest."

Jedi talk. He was no Jedi, but how would Dirzu feel if he struck out of anger? He had to control his emotions. Had to keep a level head.

Had to bring this murderer to justice.

 

[Nisha Skaiyr]

As the Rodian's final breath escaped him, Nisha closed her eyes and muttered a small prayer in her native tongue. The words were solemn, somber, a whispered farewell to the life she'd snuffed, and a short blessing; that the Jedi might find, in death, the harmony he had strove for in life. The words felt bitter on the Witch's tongue. There was no honor in this kill, no joy in this final strike.

Nisha heard the thud of heavy feet behind her.

Foolish.

The Witch had allowed the heat of battle to cloud her mind, distract her from her surroundings. She'd barely registered the hulking brute, never mind his potential as a threat.

And because of that, she had caused undue suffering to those around him.

With a heavy sigh, she ordered her men to lower their weapons and disperse. A strange command, considering the beast that threatened their leader, but they obeyed eventually. As soon as the pair was alone, the Indoumodian wiped the blood from her blade, and spoke.

"He was your friend. I am sorry. But he was a Jedi, a warrior, not unlike I. He understood the risk his path entailed." Her words were heavy and sincere as she turned to face the great beast before her, gripping his hammer. Barely contained rage bubbled in this behemoth's aura.

Nisha understood the feeling.

"You wish to avenge him, and this is natural. I know the loss you feel, the pain in your heart. But know that if you attempt to detain me, I will not go peacefully." She was well aware of what the answer would be, but still she felt obligated to make this next request, even as she brought her blade up into a guard across her chest.

"Walk away. Mourn his loss. Move on. This need not be your fight."

---

[member="Calder Icehammer"]

 

[Viviana]

The calm approach seemed to pay off. Even as he stood there, hammer in hand ready to strike, he could see the reasoning in [member="Nisha Skaiyr"] 's words. It was sound, but at the same time, he could not walk away. His grip tightened as he watched her move her blade, and his eyes scanned her followers for a brief moment. He was outnumbered, outgunned. Regardless.

"If you understand, you know very well I cannot just let you walk away. The moment you struck him down this became my fight. If you will not surrender peacefully, I will have to strike you down." Every word burned in his throat. He did not want to be calm. Did not want to talk with his friend's murderer. But she had chosen to speak, chosen words instead of violence. He would have to do the same.

His legs spread apart as he prepared for the inevitable however. This was going to be a fight, and neither were going to back down.

 

[Nisha Skaiyr]

A curt nod of the head was Nisha's response. More bloodshed. A small part of her appreciated that. But mostly, she just wished the bear had taken her advice.

"I am Nisha Skaiyr, acolyte of the Sith." Her words warbled and warped as they passed through the respirator strapped firmly to her face. She took a few steps back, bowed at the waist, and then rose to standing once more.

Formalities completed, at least for her, the Acolyte dipped into the whirling chaos that was the Dark Side of the Force, and it was obvious to tell. Her one good eye, normally iron grey, turned a deep crimson, her grip on her weapon tightened, and her presence in the Force suddenly spoke of rage. The sort of rage that did not rest, that had no purpose. The sort of rage that simply existed, perpetuating itself through violence and heartbreak.

The Witch would restrain herself just long enough for her foe to complete his formalities, should he choose to partake in them.

Once that was done, however, the battle began.

Nisha's foe was strong - the size of his weapon and the pure mass he carried on his form assured her of that. She was used to using her strength to win fights, at least in part. That, obviously, was not an option here.

But speed? Agility, flexibility?

He was slow. Ponderous. Muscle could help with quickness, with agility, to a certain extent; but this bear had overshot that balance by a wide margin.

And that was how Nisha was going to win. She flipped the blade in her hand, holding it in reverse - she believed her Master called that shien - and dashed forward. The Dark Side imbued Nisha's movements with preternatural quickness, which, in turn, imbued her strikes with hefty force.

Her aim was true, her hand steady, and with a feral snarl, the Witch made the attempt, as she dashed past the bear, to draw the blade across the behemoth's side. To give the cut a little extra oomph, she'd twist her body during the strike, forcing the sword to bite deeper into the fur, fat and muscle that protected her target. It probably wouldn't be a particularly grievous wound, not on a creature of that size, but it'd certainly give him something to think about if he wanted to get up-close-and-personal.

Assuming nothing went horribly wrong, the witch would come to a halt about two meters behind Calder, turning on her heel to face him again. Her expression was one of animal fury and primal rage, and that combined with her stooped posture might give one the impression that the witch was not currently quite-all-there.

---

[member="Calder Icehammer"].

 

[Viviana]

Watching how [member="Nisha Skaiyr"] acted somehow gave a sensation of peace for the large being. Honorable, almost polite, serious. Despite the situation the Witch and the Bear met, Calder had found a respect for the Sith. Sith? It was a term he did not know, but as he watched her the spirits cried out in pain. The way she used the spirits, it was inhumane, horrid. His blue eyes narrowed in disapproval, but he none the less bowed his head.

"Calder Icehammer, the Warrior."

And no sooner had he spoken did the fight begin. She took off with an unnatural speed, and her blade came with a vicious strike for his side. She was going to use her smaller size and speed to outmaneuver him. Her blade cut right through the metal strapped to his side much to his surprise, and the sharp pain of a cut quickly showed him how sharp of a blade she had.

But he had not just stood there as she charged in. She was faster and smaller, yes. But when she struck, his form turned and the massive hammer came around to slam into her back as she went by. She had speed, but he had strength. It was as deadly as any other. Could she withstand a blow from him? Or would she have to avoid all and hope to be never hit once?

 

[Nisha Skaiyr]

To the Sith, pain was not necessarily something to be avoided. It was a source of power, a companion, and a teacher.

But like any good teacher, every now and then, it expected just a bit too much from its students.

Thanks to the speed she was moving, the hammer-strike that connected with Nisha's back was only a glancing blow; but even a glancing blow from such a hefty weapon was painful, and it transferred enough force to send the Indoumodian flying a couple of meters. A Force assisted twist mid-air meant that the Witch landed on her feet.

Or it would've, had she more skill.

Instead of touching down with catlike grace, all the young Sithling had managed was to land on her back with a heavy thud, then skid and tumble along the ground for another few feet. Not the most graceful or pleasant landing, but it could've been worse; she could've hit the pavement head first. That sort of injury tended to have a certain finality about it.

Think, you stupid girl. That thought rang through Nisha's head as she rolled and hopped to her feet. She couldn't beat the bear with instinct or pure aggression, and melee was far too dangerous until he was disarmed.

Lucky, then, that the Witch had a trick strapped to her hip. The woman's left hand was a blur of grey as she reached down to the holster at her side and drew a quite frankly massive revolver; a Tenloss Ambassador. In most cased, the heft calibre and plasma-shrouded slug were the very definition of overkill, but right now, Nisha was glad to have the bloody great hunk of durasteel at her side.

Shots to the chest were most natural, but no - Calder was too big, too bulky. That wasn't guaranteed to down him. Shoot for something weaker. Less vital. There was no time to aim, not properly, at least, so Nisha simply raised her gun and fired it in the hopes of hitting Calder's hand or forearm.

---

[member="Calder Icehammer"]

 

[Viviana]

And there she went. His eyes followed [member="Nisha Skaiyr"] as she flew, but he did not stand still waiting for her to land. The loud heavy footsteps of him running were easily heard by all around. If there was ever a time to strike, it was now. His massive hammer had been brought around just as the war witch pulled free her gun, which came as a surprise to the Beorni. There was little he could do as the shot rang out, and his hammer flew from his hand.

Despite the strong grip on the weapon, there was no way for him to keep the weapon as such a large pistol shot tore into the icy head. The weapon itself was unharmed of course, but it sailed near twenty feet away. And Calder was midcharge, unable to just stop and turn. So instead, he let out a roar, hoping to close the distance between the two and slam into the smaller woman with his shoulder armor.