Private Look Who's Coming to Lor'vram (Breakfast)

[Kranak Vizsla]

Lor'vram

Location: Kestri, Tor Valum, The Kom’rk, Mess Hall
Local Time: 07:15
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Get Started With the Day
Secondary Objective: N/A
Equipment: Loadout 1 (Medical Backpack, Paranaor Blaster Rifle and Scatter Gun left in his locker in his barracks)
Tags: Zlova Rue

The clean, well lit and spacious chow hall within The Kom’rk accommodated long rows of broad, metallic dining tables and benches; many of which were unoccupied at the time. There were several Mandalorians dining alone or with their friends in small groups scattered around in the mess hall but as time went on, it would start getting crowded.

A tall, muscular Mandalorian clad in beskar’gam painted jet black walked into the mess hall. The giant’s armored boots pounded on the white tile floor with muffled thuds as he walked; his long black kama rippled in harmony with each step he took. Grabbing a spoon, a steel food tray and a big caf mug, Kranak walked towards the food dispensers nearby to get some breakfast and start the day. He didn’t have to wait too long in the line as there weren’t a lot of warriors in the mess hall yet at that time.

With a mechanical hum, the automated food dispenser poured out one portion worth of boiled mealgrain on one of the four compartments a moment after the giant held the metal food tray under the nozzle of the food dispenser. Unsatisfied with the amount, the giant decided to have another compartment topped off with the porridge.

The automated food dispenser poured another portion on one of the empty compartments on the giant’s food tray. Only now satisfied with the amount, the giant grabbed two thin slices of Uj’alayi and filled his mug with some fresh, hot caf. Once he got his breakfast, the Ori’ramikad walked towards an unoccupied dining table close to the entrance of the mess hall to settle down and get some breakfast.

The Ori’ramikad laid the food tray and the caf mug on the table as he sat down and removed his helmet shortly after. With a faint hiss from his helmet depressurizing, Kranak removed his helmet and placed it right next to him on the bench he was sitting at and started to dig into his meal as he took a spoonful of the boiled mealgrain. The porridge had a neutral taste, but it would keep one satiated all day long, not to mention it was nutritious. It was a good meal to start the day with. After all, he would have a long day ahead of him. Physical training in full gear, live fire drills, and some specialty exercises; the latter being both theoretical and practical, primarily about handling explosive ordnance. It had been awhile since the last time he had to handle anything stronger than a grenade. He knew everything there was to know about them when it came to conventional explosives thanks to his Supercommando training that also covered a wide variety of topics concerning warfare, but it’d be unwise to turn down a refresher course.

The giant sensed movement coming from his left while he took a sip of caf from his mug. He gave a glance to his left towards the mess hall’s entrance to see who it was. A group of three Mandalorians in full ‘gam with varying colors had walked in, all three giving an upwards nod at the giant. He kindly returned the gesture as he gave them an upward nod. They were a couple of friends he got to know during several mercenary contracts a few months back. It seems fortune had them meet once again. They soon settled down with the giant after getting their own breakfast on their food trays. The trio removed their helmets once they were settled down after they laid their trays on the table; their helmets depressurized with a faint hiss as they removed them and set them aside next to them, on the bench they sat on.

“So, how have you been, big guy?” said Cabur, the one in pale green armor, as she tidied her hair after removing the buy’ce. Her beskar’gam’s paint job was weathered here and there. There was visible battle damage on her chestplate.

“Eh,” shrugged Kranak as he took another sip from his hot caf. “I’ve been here and there. You know, the usual.” The giant followed up with a similar question shortly after. “What about you guys? Haven’t seen the three of you ever since that one gig in the Outer Rim.” It was a mercenary contract from months ago, where they were tasked with finding and neutralizing any and all pirate activity from the Hydian Way and into CIS territory. Of course, there were a lot more mercenaries that were hired to do the job alongside them.

The contract went on for a month, resulting in the eradication of most pirate groups in that area of operations. The ones that were fortunate enough to survive were forced out of that sector. That one was a very fun gig. They had spread rumors of precious cargo in transit from that sector into wherever to draw out the pirates. Once they had revealed their position, they either boarded their vessels and cleared them out, or intercept their rag tag fleet of ships with their own.

“Well,” sighed Atin, as he looked up from his tray. The fellow vod was wearing a beskar’gam painted grey. “We’ve provided our services to several mining companies, keeping their shebs safe and sound from raiders and such.” said the Mandalorian, as he reached for his cup of caf. “I haven’t shot my blaster in the past two months on a living, breathing target.” said the warrior in frustration. It sounded like their presence was enough to deter bandits throughout their contract.

The Supercommando slowly nodded. Kranak understood him fully. Not all contracts gave the mercs the possibility of seeing some action. Sometimes, you’d just get paid for sitting on your shebs and doing nothing for weeks on end. You’d be thrilled once someone actually shot at you, as coming under fire after weeks of long and mundane patrols or guard duties would be out of the ordinary. It was something the Supercommando knew all too well.

“Yeah, but it was one of the better paying jobs, at least.” spoke the vod clad in a dark blue beskar’gam, as he playfully nudged Atin on the shoulder with his elbow, trying to reason with him.

“Was it really, though?” responded Atin, as he gave an annoyed glance towards A’den. “I swear, two months on that damned, forsaken moon felt like a bloody year.”

“Well yeah, it was.” Said Cabur flatly, after eating some boiled mealgrain from her food tray as the two talked. But she didn’t believe that herself, either. She continued after a long pause, with a sigh. “Okay, it wasn’t worth it though. Just, again, what were you thinking when you thought that contract would be a good one?” Snapped Cabur at A’den.

The giant would silently watch the three argue with a grin on his face in the coming moments, eating some boiled mealgrain and taking a few sips from his caf once in a while.

“Oh not this again,” sighed A’den in frustration as he shook his head. “I just assumed, judging from the pirate activity in that region, that it’d be a worthwhile contract. We talked about this!” the warrior retorted at Cabur. It was apparent they had argued about this before.

“Regardless, you are not choosing the next gig,” Atin added to what Cabur had to say. “No sir.” The warrior woman gave a nod of her head to what Atin had to say while she kept her penetrating gaze fixated on A’den for a moment.

“Fiine, whatever man.” gave up A’den, dropping the argument. A few moments passed by in silence, as they ate some more of their breakfast. Atin broke the silence, seemingly remembering something to ask about.

“Speaking of contracts, have you heard of anything worthwhile, big guy?” Inquired Atin as he looked up from his food tray and towards the giant expectantly. The giant’s answer would not satisfy him or Cabur.

“Well, I can’t say I have.” Responded Kranak, as he shrugged. “Haven’t had the time to check the mercenary net for any interesting contracts in a long time, nor have I heard of anything worthy of attention so far.”

“Damn, shame.” Grumbled Cabur, showing displeasure at the answer.

“But I wouldn’t worry if I were you.” Said Kranak before he took a bite from a thin slice of Uj'alayi. “The galaxy is teeming with conflict. Rest assured, there’s a need for mercs more than ever before now.”

That was true, as there was war in almost every corner of the galaxy at that time. And it looked like it would continue to be that way for the foreseeable future. It was a good time for mercenaries and bounty hunters alike to make bank. But the giant was almost never in it for the money. On rare occasions he had taken a few gigs to make some credits, however what he seeked was not fortune, but the thrill of combat. Always looking for the next worthy foe to put six feet under. He could never really get enough of that.

Now seeming at least somewhat content, with their minds seemingly relieved, the warriors would move on to different topics to talk about as they had breakfast together before they started the day.

 

[Zlova Rue]

Despite being welcome to join the Mandalorians as part of their... community, the red Twi'lek Zlova Rue was not a common sight in the common haunts. They'd be more likely to encounter her at a nearby cantina. it was a large galaxy and she was a busy person now that she'd come out of retirement. The Knights Obsidian didn't count; that had been her retirement. That and dancing on Nar Shadda. Not that Zlova wasn't still moonlighting as a good little Talon (Dark Sider) in the Confederacy, but there were other things on her mind lately. Talohn Atar was one, but certainly not a factor in keeping the Lethan out of view from most other Mandalorians.

Today was an exception. Today, Zlova felt like checking out just what the 'Vod' did when they weren't shooting someone, or training to shoot someone, or thinking about shooting someone. Surprisingly they ate real food. They had a mess hall. Here she thought Talohn was the only one that took his helmet off. The rest didn't eat through a straw? Just a little agoraphobic, perhaps.

Out of respect, the Twi'lek sauntered into the mess hall wearing a leather corset that covered her breasts and most of her belly, with wrappings that wound their way down into knee-high boots. Arms, shoulders, chest above the breasts, and her head -- with sleek and refined lekku -- bore the hallmarks of Zlova's Sith upbringing and training. Yes, her outfit was only meant to keep anyone from being aghast at how much flesh she showed. What anyone thought of her copious amounts of tattoos and their origin the woman could scarcely care less.

Oh, and she wore the pendent; the one with the cute skull on it so Vod knew she wasn't there to butcher them all. Because no Sith had ever claimed such a bauble off a corpse and feigned to be an ally just to get close enough to rip someone's heart out. Nope. Thought had never occurred to Zlova, and she'd certainly never ever used such an underhanded tactic.

The boots clicked across the floor as she strode straight up to the food dispenser and watched as the Helmeted men and women in front of her retrieved their... Is that what they called food? it didn't matter how nutritious it was. It could not possibly taste remotely good. Tolerable. Acceptable. Edible even, sure, but not good. No one was drooling over this stuff. They weren't having dreams about hot, wet slop; and if they were they have only to seek out Zlova for counseling and she'd knock sense into them.

So, naturally, when it was the red woman's turn she did the only acceptable thing to do under the circumstances. Zlova grabbed a Uj'alayi and some caf.

Regardless whether anyone had been watching or gave her any looks, Zlova turned to face the room to scout out a place to sit. As she strode through the room, she took a bite out of the Uj'alayi in her hand. It actually wasn't terrible. Surprisingly given the rest of the meal -- or maybe that's how they justified eating that stuff.

A strange sensation tickled Zlova as she moved through the tables. Her golden eyes turned to find a rather tall and large looking specimen of their kind sitting among what must have been friends. Yes, yes, The Force told her he was someone she needed to meet. Usually that only happened when they were worth killing or stood a chance in the Nether at killing her. Entertainment, to be succinct. A smile began to spread over her lips as she popped the rest of the 'dessert' into her mouth.

In no hurry to rush across the room, the red woman strolled up alongside the four Vode sitting around with their helmets off. What a curious sight. To think there were actually living, breathing people under all those helmets. Not that it made her question any of their kind she had killed, of course. How many? Oh, she couldn't say. Just like she didn't track how many Rodians or Chiss she'd killed. A non-zero sum. Though Zlova had told the truth in joining this merry bunch of hunters -- she didn't participate in any campaign against the Mandalorian Empire nor did she have any personal desire to wipe them out.

"Jate vaar'tur," Zlova greeted them with cup of caf in hand. "Busy day ahead?" Hunters. Zlova really should try to convince the Quartermaster to engage in more warfare. Fighting was what their culture was good for -- she meant 'at.' Good at fighting. There was conflict in their bounties to be sure -- no one wanted to be taken in -- but it wasn't the same. One day at a time though. First, Zlova needed to understand the people as they were now. Then perhaps she could guide them toward their destiny.

Tag: Kranak Vizsla

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Lor'vram

Location: Kestri, Tor Valum, The Kom’rk, Mess Hall
Local Time: 07:21
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Get Started With the Day
Secondary Objective: N/A
Equipment: Loadout 1 (Medical Backpack, Paranaor Blaster Rifle and Scatter Gun left in his locker in his barracks)
Tags: Zlova Rue

As they continued to have breakfast together, the four Mandalorians had already moved on to a different subject before the red Twi’lek had approached them. A’den was looking for a better platform to replace his aging EE-3 Carbine Rifle, and had asked for his friends’ advice for a good, long lasting replacement of his primary.

“It depends on what you’re looking for,” said Kranak, with a gleam in his eyes and a smile on his face. He enjoyed helping a fellow vod out. “What exactly do you have in mind, vod? I assume you’re looking for something versatile?”

The Mandalorian clad in dark blue beskar’gam nodded. “Yeah, I need a new blaster rifle that would be effective up to five or six hundred meters. It needs to have modular hard points for personal customization, of course. That goes without saying.” Looking down at his food tray as he mused, the young warrior paused for a moment, stroking his chin. He was thinking of what other specifications he would need for his new rifle he needed. After a few moments the Mandalorian looked up from his tray and at the Supercommando. “It’s also got to be sturdy, reliable, and must feature a collapsible stock.”

“I think you’ll love the ENCL-36 then,” said the giant, enthusiastically. “The rifle specifications meet your needs, and then some! Belying the power of the rounds it fires, it has considerably low recoil.”

“Hmm, the ENCL-36? I think I’ve heard of it before.” said Cabur. She raised one eyebrow at the mention of the weapon. “Isn’t its design very old? Pretty much the Westar-M5, but modernized.”

“Oh yeah. The design is almost a millennia old,” continued Kranak, answering Cabur’s question accompanied with a chuckle from the giant. It fascinated the giant that the rifle’s design outlived those that created it.“There have been several updates made along the way to modernize the design to catch up with the ever evolving battlefields of our time, however.”

The giant paused for a short moment to take a few sips from his caf, then continued afterwards. “Said updates made the blaster very reliable against, well… Almost any foe. Not to mention the rifle is made by the Buir and the forgemasters she trained.” He was referring to the revered Quartermaster when the giant emphasized on Buir.

Atin nodded at the Supercommando a moment before speaking his mind. “Sounds very intriguing. I might consider getting one for myself. How much is it?”

The giant tilted his head to his left as a response to Atin’s inquiry. He couldn’t exactly remember the price of the rifle, but he remembered it wasn’t so cheap. “Well, it’s not cheap, I can tell you that much. But a great investment if you ask me. I have been very pleased with that blaster’s performance.”

The giant paused for a few moments as he ate a few spoonfuls of the porridge before he continued. The taste of the boiled mealgrain reminded him of the ration cubes he packed in his field rations. “Tell you what,” the giant lifted his head to look towards A’den, also glancing at Cabur and Atin. “We can take my Paranaor to the range later today and shoot it. You’d get the feel and the weight of the rifle that way. Sound good?”

A’den nodded his head yes. “Sounds like a plan! Looking forward to it, vod.” The young warrior looked at Atin seated to his left swiftly afterwards. “We got to find a good contract, vod. And soon.” If the blaster rifle he was interested in was somewhat expensive, he’d need to complete a contract or two that offered a hefty sum of credits. Not to mention the payout would be divided between the three of them, as they worked together as a group.

“Oh yeah, don’t worry about that,” Atin quipped, pausing for a second as he took a bite from his slice of Uj’alayi. “I’ll find a good one, unlike the last time.”

A’den heaved a sigh before he spoke. “When are you going to stop reminding me of that stupid contract?”

Atin answered the annoyed warrior’s question after a short giggle. “Never.”

“Jate vaar’tur,”

Said a feminine voice coming from their left. Atin replied in favor without sparing a glance as to who it was at first. “Su’cuy, vod.” He didn’t notice the sudden silence and the tension in the air yet.

He was swiftly met with a stiff nudge from Cabur sitting at his right. The warrior looked up from his food tray in surprise at her with an inquiring expression. Cabur’s steely gaze was fixated on something or someone. He glanced to see who or what she was looking at. The warrior turned to his right to see a red Twi’lek wearing a leather corset and a Mythosaur Skull necklace. He, like the rest of his vode seated at the table, saw the markings she bore on her arms, shoulders, upper chest and lekku. It was her.

The giant’s cheerful mood was replaced with a very brief moment of surprise as he was taken aback from the unexpected encounter. His happy facial expression was replaced with a neutral one, with his brows furrowed. His muscles -like his vode around him- tensed up for a possible fight, subconsciously.

“Busy day ahead?”

She said, as she sat next to A’den. None had broken the silence that fell on the table, yet.

They’ve all heard rumors of a Dar’jetii taken into the fold, sponsored by one of the numerous clans that pledged their allegiance to The Enclave. They didn’t know her name, nor the clan she was supposedly a part of. It infuriated many Mandalorians to hear that a clan accepted a Sith into their fold, after everything that the Mandalorians had endured at the hands of the Dar’jetii over the decades. They had stabbed them in the back, tried to erase them from history by destroying their culture, their language and their homeworld. How could a clan Alor accept one of their ilk into their clan?

But the disappointment didn’t end there. Buir also had approved of her. They were forced to treat her as one of their own now. They all respected the Buir’s decision making, but this? Sure, they all knew of the cin vhetin, a fresh start. Clean slate. Your past was forgotten when one became a Mandalorian, but they couldn’t just simply forget what the Sith did. She shared the same creed with those that laid waste to Manda’yaim and her people.

The giant was the first to break the uneasy silence. “What clan do you hail from?” asked Kranak with a rather stern tone. He wanted to know the clan and the house that took her in.

 

[Zlova Rue]

The Twi'lek settled down at the table across from the giant among them. Her hands slid about the sides of the cup of caf as steam wafted into the air before her. Others at the table -- all of whom she hadn't the slightest idea who they were -- afforded Zlova hard stares at her arrival and occupation of their table. All the while, the red woman smiled.

Golden rings shifted to the side to regard dear A'den as the terribly fortunate one to have her so near. Of course they weren't the most polite of the four present. No, that'd been delightful Atin. Delightful and clueless at the time he'd uttered his response; now that he was the wiser the man schooled his expression well. Gold star. It was a testament to their self-control and discipline that they didn't just lash out at her, or yell for her to get away as though she carried the rakghoul plague.

Oh, but one did break the silence at last. Not that it had bothered Zlova in the slightest. That was the thing about the Force whispering in your ear about meeting someone -- once he met them 'destiny' (to put a name to it) was back in your hands. Why rush? If the men wanted to sit there and let their caf get cold, she wouldn't be the one to stop them. After all, Zlova had already taken the first step by introducing herself.

And claiming a seat without asking. They'd live.

What clan did she hail from? From where the big man Kranak Vizsla sat no doubt that was the question to ask. Not a terribly important one though in Zlova's opinion. Would it matter? Yes, yes, surely it might later when they gave Talohn a cold shoulder or whatever Mandalorian did to act childish. But, really, would it matter? They weren't going to get rid of her like that.

"Atar." Zlova lifted her cup to take a slow drink of the hot brew. After she finished and peered over the rim at the man. The Twi'lek's smile returned as the cup descended toward the table once more. "Clan Atar. Led by Talohn Atar , defended by Madlad, elevated by Monari Atar. And I am the enforcer of its will, Zlova Rue." The tattooed brow rose ever so perceptively in the brief space of a second as if to wonder if there was any doubt. "Pleasure's all mine, I'm sure."

Zlova's left hand lifted from the cup to lay atop her right shoulder as she rolled it to loosen up. "As you've heard, I am a Sith. Not affiliated with any groups you know. Never set foot on Mandalore. Heard it was a beautiful place." Until the Sith arrived. "Any questions?" Every time she spoke to a Mandalorian it was always "Are you...?" and "Did you...?" Just seemed appropriate to skip over the blatantly obvious and see if this group had anything else to say.

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Lor'vram

Location: Kestri, Tor Valum, The Kom’rk, Mess Hall
Local Time: 07:23
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Get Started With the Day
Secondary Objective: N/A
Equipment: Loadout 1 (Medical Backpack, Paranaor Blaster Rifle and Scatter Gun left in his locker in his barracks)
Tags: Zlova Rue

The giant was heart broken once she replied to his inquiry at first. A tide of anger washed over him afterwards. His hands were clenched into fists. He was with the Cathar at the Battle of Tor Valum. He fought shoulder to shoulder with Talohn Atar against the Vong to reclaim the city. Kranak could trust him with his life, just like with any of his vode. Talohn was the last person -or any vode for that matter- the giant would expect to sponsor in a Dar’jetii into their clan. How could he and the Buir forget what happened to the Mando’ade at the hands of the Sith so quickly?

But the giant was quick to contain his anger. His chest rose and fell slowly as he calmed himself down and started to think. <What is it that the Buir and Talohn sees in you, that I can’t?> the giant mused as he kept his gaze at the red woman’s enchanting, golden eyes. They all respected Buir’s wisdom. There had to be something she knew the rest of them didn’t. But why the compromise? The Sith the giant knew were all scheming, backstabbing, two-faced chakaare. Aruetiise. They could not be trusted, on his book.

“As you've heard, I am a Sith. Not affiliated with any groups you know. Never set foot on Mandalore. Heard it was a beautiful place. Any questions?”

“That,” Cabur spat, as she kept her wrathful gaze at her while the giant mused for the moment. “Doesn’t change anything. You are bound to those that laid waste to Manda’yaim by creed and their teachings.”

What she said probably had some truth in it, as the giant assumed with what little he knew of the Sith. He assumed the red Twi’lek would be a risk, a security breach of The Enclave. Deceiving and back-stabbing was among the things the Sith were great at, afterall. That was how they were killed in the millions. They were almost peerless in the field of battle. They always got the Mandalorians through trickery and betrayal. Over time, they learned to expect betrayal behind every corner, which made it even harder to trust anyone but themselves.

“How did Buir even approve of you anyway! Did you cloud her judgement or something?” lashed out A’den, with fire in the young Mandalorian’s eyes. He couldn’t believe a Sith of all people was taken into the fold. No, he refused to believe it. The Enclave needed unity more than ever, with clans and houses working together to elevate the Mando’ade, for the betterment of their people. What she’d bring would be the complete opposite, as A’den thought.

Kranak slowly nodded as he considered that possibility. What if Talohn and Buir were somewhat… compromised under her influence? As much as it was a damning thought it was, it was worth the consideration. That was a troubling thought, as he assumed the rest of his vode at the table were thinking the same thing. But he wasn’t as vocally judgemental, yet. Maybe she really was here for a clean start. There was only one way to find out, but could he really trust her answer? He assumed not, but at least knowing her excuse would maybe shed some light on things.

“What are you here for, really?” inquired the giant after musing for awhile as the others spoke.

“Lait uhyih mhi duse cuun ca'nara ti kaysh?” Atin spoke harshly in Mando’a, not even a moment after the giant asked his question. He glanced at the three of them as he spoke. “Nidarna kaysh ninayr! mhi cuyir naas a inepa at kaysh.” The Mandalorian clad in grey beskar’gam continued as he stood up from the bench while he grabbed his helmet. “Narir va dinuir kaysh meg la copaanir. Ni cuyir ba'slanar. Ni iisa na at haalur tase abiik asas kaysh.” The warrior was slowly moving towards the exit of the Mess Hall as he put on his buy’ce, but was still within earshot distance of the group and the Dar’jetii.

Cabur and A’den gave a nod of their heads at Atin, agreeing with him. Kranak felt they would follow suit with Atin soon enough after the vod clad in grey armor left the mess hall.

The giant still kept his gaze fixated at the pair of golden eyes while Atin stood up, expecting an answer from her.

 

[Zlova Rue]

Zlova smiled as her face remain turned toward Kranak Vizsla while her golden eyes slowly slid in Cabur's direction as the other woman flailed verbally into the air. They were lucky to be there in number so each could quickly follow upon the last. If they'd given the red Twi'lek a moment to speak she would have politely, but firmly torn them to pieces with words alone.

Cabur, for instance, might like Zlova to regale her with the many crimes of the Mandalorian Union and every Mandalorian conglomerate that came before them.

A'den seemed to think Zlova managed to Jedi Mind Trick 'Buir' into allowing her among them. First off, she wasn't a Jedi. Second, no self-respecting Sith would dominate another's mind just to join a social club. Third... the Buir was a weak-willed creature a Sith could dominate? These people had far greater concerns than a Lethan sitting at their table.

At least the big one had a question rather than some baseless accusation. And people said Sith were paranoid.

Though Zlova wasn't even spared a moment to answer that question. Atin really kicked the helmet down the gangway when he went off on a rant in Mando'a. Something about feeling insecure about their self in the presence of someone so glorious. Lost something in the translation, but she read between the lines.

"All warfare is based on deception," Zlova recited calmly as Atin started to make their hasty exit. "When able to attack, seem unable; when active, seem complacent; when near, seem far away; when far away, seem near. Ni cuyir sto burk'yc ui gar kar'taylir. A olar Ni sheber, pirur liguva e'yar gar; bal shi solus dasa'na tion'jor." <<I am more dangerous than you know. But here I sit, drinking caf among you; and only one asked why.>>

"I'm here because I choose to be. Nothing more. Nothing less. I choose to be because Talohn Atar is here. I choose to understand the Mandalorian ways; whether they make me a better warrior or philosopher is entirely up to the strength of the Mandalorian heart, which I weigh daily. Fortunately, I am not short of time and judgment need not be quick. Perhaps," Zlova smiled for a moment, "if you are lucky, you may come to understand the Sith ways. They may make you stronger, but that is entirely up to you." Whether they embraced them or simply took the opportunity to study their enemy up close and outside of a life and death struggle was up to them to decide. The Twi'lek was not there to force people to learn. If they were a student or a companion worth having then they would make their quality known. Otherwise, Zlova had places to be and people to torment.

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Lor'vram

Location: Kestri, Tor Valum, The Kom’rk, Mess Hall
Local Time: 07:24
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Get Started With the Day
Secondary Objective: N/A
Equipment: Loadout 1 (Medical Backpack, Paranaor Blaster Rifle and Scatter Gun left in his locker in his barracks)
Tags: Zlova Rue

The Mandalorians that remained seated at the table listened to what the red Twi’lek had to say, for the moment. The warriors clad in various colored beskar’gam remained silent; Cabur and A’den looked at her with a wrathful gaze. The giant’s facial expression still remained neutral; his eyes sparkled with interest as he gauged Zlova, mixed with the shared, collective hatred towards the Sith that any Mandalorian harbored that weren’t a turn-coat, or Dar’manda, in other words.

She recited a basic understanding of what warfare was based off of, which all of them already knew. All Mandalorians. They were taught these during bajur, more in depth into the theoretical, of course. They were also given -or created- lots of opportunities to put the theoretical into practice themselves. No matter how much they hated their enemies, whether how weak or strong they may portray themselves to be, none underestimated their foes. At least those that weren’t poisoned by their hubris.

They were also more dangerous than they let on, too.

Her explanation as to why she walked among them was reasonable at first, but as she continued with her explanation, the giant pursed his lips out of anger and disapproval. It wasn’t for the fact that she chose to learn The Way, no. It wasn’t for the fact that she seeked self improvement either. Any smart warrior would pursue that; expanding their skills and knowledge of war. That, he respected, in fact.

But the red Twi’lek sounded as if she would take all that she could learn from them, and leave. At least that’s how the giant took her words that way at that moment. “So, then,” the giant spoke in a calm manner, despite the rage starting to build up inside him. He displayed great self-restraint by not giving into his anger and try to strike her down right then and there. Not here, no. They had simulation rooms for that.

“You’re just going to abandon The Way after you learn everything there is to learn?” He spoke calmly, as he locked his dark brown eyes with hers. “If that is the case, The Resol’nare isn’t something you can just abandon, or learn so easily. It requires devotion until one’s inevitable death. It requires unwavering dedication and loyalty to one’s clan, the Mando’ade and our culture; lest you see yourself become Dar’manda.” the giant spat the last word in pure wrath and disgust. He would never understand the concept of betraying one of their own, regardless of the motivation behind it.

But despite the anger within the giant Supercommando, he could see she had what it takes to walk down the path, with The Resol’nare as her guide. Maybe that’s what Buir and Talohn saw in her and accepted her as one of their own. Casting aside the ideologies the giant and the red Twi’lek both had, two were similarly strong. Not of the physical state, but of the mental. It would take to be one to know one, after all.

But that would remain to be seen whether she would fully trod the path of the Mandalorian. She could gain their trust one way or the other, sure. But he and the rest of his vode would probably be unable to fully trust her, which would complicate things immensely. They all waged war trusting one another with their lives. Their brotherhood was stronger than any bond born of bloodline could offer. They fought as one and bled as one.

 

[Zlova Rue]

One corner of Zlova's lips twisted upward as the large warrior spoke. Oh, his demeanor was calm enough. Placid enough. Sith, however, became adept at feeling negative energy in people -- the darkness as most romanticized it. The man was perturbed. They all were. Rightfully so from a certain point of view -- theirs.

"If your intention is to become the absolute best at any one thing, you dedicate your entire life to the pursuit of that single ideal. However, if you are not trying to be the best at any one thing then such dedication is not necessary. I have no intention of being the Best Mandalorian, but it would be a mistake to think that a lack of commitment. I intend to the best at what I am." The Twi'lek stopped there without bothering to elaborate on what that was precisely. Whether her words placated any of them or not, she only spoke the truth.

"So, then," Zlova smiled briefly once more, "shall we dance?"

They would be appalled to learn just how much the Mandalorian and Sith had in common. Words were nice, but deceptive. Combat was brutally honest. Concealment, misdirection, and deceit could be useful tactics, but in the end there was only one outcome -- you emerged victorious, or you did not. As a result you learned something about your opponent. Perhaps they were savage, or cunning, or evasive. Information you could use in a later battle, if you survived. Both of their cultures understood the importance of strife; that was how they managed to work together for so long.

"We can demonstrate our discipline in ways words can only hope to describe." It would give them a chance to let out the pent up emotional energy in a way that might be more socially acceptable than flipping the table over. Zlova wasn't overly concerned what people thought of her, but that didn't mean all she wanted was to goad people into losing control. A little duel might even build a strong relationship -- or understanding, anyway -- between them. If Zlova was going to do 'this' then she might as well meeting more Mandalorians than just Talohn.

Tag: Kranak Vizsla

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Lor'vram

Location: Kestri, Tor Valum, The Kom’rk, Mess Hall
Local Time: 07:29
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Get Started With the Day
Secondary Objective: N/A
Equipment: Loadout 1 (Medical Backpack, Paranaor Blaster Rifle and Scatter Gun left in his locker in his barracks)
Tags: Zlova Rue

The red Twi’lek’s answer was reasonable enough. At least she would be committing fully to the Path of the Mandalorian, if one could trust her and take the Dar’jetii’s word for it. The Ori’ramikad would continue to have doubts about Zlova, regardless of the answer she gave to him for the foreseeable future, as a result of the giant’s inherent distrust with the Sith.

“So, then, shall we dance? We can demonstrate our discipline in ways words can only hope to describe.”

She challenged the giant to a duel with a smile on her face. Kranak raised an eyebrow in surprise for a brief moment. The giant did not expect her to be so gallant, but the giant welcomed it nonetheless. He never turned down a confrontation before, and he intended to keep it that way. In their culture, through conflict came resolution. Vode settled their grievances between one another with duels like the one Zlova suggested. One way or the other, at least the issue between the two would be solved with a duel. Not to mention fighting a Dar’jetii would yield invaluable fighting experience one would not be able to find so easily out in the field.

“I accept your challenge, “vod.” said Kranak to the Dar’jetii’s invitation to a fight, with a smile on the giant’s face; sarcastically emphasizing the word vod. It was a light-hearted jab thrown at the red Twi’lek. The giant was starting to regain his cheerful mood from before Zlova had joined them at the table, at the mention of a duel. Combat was among the things that cheered up the Ori’ramikad.

A’den and Cabur chuckled at the red Twi’lek once the giant accepted her challenge. They had remained quiet and had carefully listened to the two until then.

“La malyasa’yr va motir a pavarnr.” said Cabur as she smiled at A’den. The young Mandalorian seated right beside Zlova giggled in response as he nodded at what the warrior clad in pale green beskar’gam had said.

The giant reached for his helmet placed beside him on the bench he was seated at and put it on. With a muffled woosh, his buy’ce pressurized itself automatically once he wore it; the obsidian black visor of his helmet then glared with a dim white glow as soon as his interactive heads-up display was turned on.

“I wish I could be there to watch you kick her shebs.” sighed A’den while the giant stood up after putting on his helmet. A’den and Cabur would be joining Atin to get started with today’s exercise as a squad. They would not be present for the fight as spectators, or partake in the duels as combatants.

<”Don’t worry,”> said the giant as he stood up straight. <”I’ll be recording the fight using my heads-up display. You can watch it from my perspective when you have the time.”> It was a hobby of his. He recorded every fight and battle he was ever a part of, primarily for evaluating his performance in order to improve himself for the future fights and battles yet to come.

The giant then crossed his arms on his chest as he turned his gaze at the Dar’jetii. <”Are you coming?”> The giant Ori’ramikad asked expectantly. He would be taking her to the training facilities down below. The facilities featured a number of multi-purpose simulation rooms, among a wide variety of other useful rooms for the purpose of training and exercise.

Spoiler: Mando'a Translation

"She will not stand a chance."

 

[Zlova Rue]

Zlova smiled even with the splash of sarcasm in Kranak's response. A good Sith was able to take it as well as dish it out. A good Sith was patient and knew when to slip a blade into an enemy's body for maximum damage and suffering. Skills that applied as much in battle as they did in conversation.

Then the man's friends had their say on the matter. One still pretended like Zlova couldn't understand Mando'a despite having used it herself. Or, perhaps, they weren't very bright and Mando'a was all they knew? But the Twi'lek wouldn't bother acknowledging the man's comments. It'd only legitimize their opinion mattering, which it did not. Then the other one cheered their fellow vod on, which was to be expected. Only, the amount of hubris these three exuded it was... well, it was monumentally Sith in volume.

Ki, ki, <My, my.> the Sith thought as the scene unfolded around her. The source of all their pain sat patiently by as her target stood with his helmet obscuring his features once again. Her golden eyes tracked him without sparing so much as a glance at the giggling duo beside Zlova.

At Kranak's query, the Twi'lek stood from her seat with the sustained smile on her lips. "A few small clarifications about this duel," Zlova announced while his friends were still present. "First, no training rounds or blades. Second, I'm not going to put on beskar'gam." A twitch at the corners of her lips followed the 'conditions' as another sprang to mind, "Third, I'll try not to kill you, but no promises." A lone golden ring winked at the giant of a man before her.

She slid a foot back and gestured toward the door, "Shall we?" Anticipating the Mandalorians wouldn't want a Sith at their back, however, she didn't wait for Kranak to take the lead or respond. Instead, Zlova began to move toward the door to leave the mess hall and relocate to a venue more suitable to combat. Fortunately, Mandalorians loved combat, so they had ample training facilities on site.

One of their urban settings would suffice for the exchange. "Do you have everything you need, 'vod?'" Zlova put a little emphasis on the term in turn for her 'partner.' "I'll understand if you want to pick up a portable shield or a bacta canister. Or two." She didn't want to hear any remarks about not having been prepared later.

Tag: Kranak Vizsla

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Lor'vram

Location: Kestri, Tor Valum, The Kom’rk, Training Facility, Simulation Room Number 34
Local Time: 07:34
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Get Started With the Day
Secondary Objective: N/A
Equipment: Loadout 1 (Medical Backpack, Paranaor Blaster Rifle and Scatter Gun left in his locker in his barracks)
Tags: Zlova Rue

With a smile on her face, the Dar’jetii stood up from her seat in response to the Ori’ramikad’s question before she spoke, dictating the parameters of the duel they would be having very soon. The first parameter was training rounds and training blades were off limits. He didn’t mind that one bit. The fight would be as real as it could possibly get, then. There was fun and fighting experience to be had!

Kranak tilted his head to his side once she said she would not be wearing any personal protection equipment for the duel. <Intriguing.> the giant thought to himself. Fighting without armor had its advantages and disadvantages. Without armor, one would be able to move more fluently, unhindered and nimbly, but you’d also be susceptible to injury against most battlefield hazards. He wasn’t going to raise any objections regarding the fact that she chose not to wear a set of armor. Sounded like his medical expertise would come in handy after the duel.

The giant playfully giggled at her third clarification. He liked that. Perhaps he wasn’t aware of it, or refused to acknowledge it at that time, but he was slowly starting to warm towards her. <”That makes the two of us, then.”> Kranak replied, his voice crackled synthetically due to his helmet’s annunciator module.

"Shall we?"

The giant gave a curt nod of his head, and joined Zlova. Kranak assumed she was new to the facility, however. He had been training and exercising in the facility for quite a while now, and this was his first encounter with the Dar’jetii. But it seemed she knew her way around the facility just like him, or any other vode that frequently trained in the facility. The two took a lift down to the lower levels of The Kom’rk, where the training simulation rooms were situated.

Once exiting the lift when they were at the correct level, it did not take them long to find an unoccupied simulation room for their duel. It was a good pick. The large simulation room had an urban combat environment setting; small to large mounds of rubble and debris littering the streets, derelict buildings and shops dotted around, some destroyed, turned over air-speeders here and there on the streets. The scene reminded him of the battle for the very city The Kom’rk was situated at; The Battle of Tor Valum. Hell, maybe the simulation room was inspired by the once leveled, destroyed state of the city.

The giant peered at the console to his left before entering the simulation room with the Dar’jetii for the room’s specifications. It was considerably large, allowing the employment of a wide variety of battle tactics; but not large to an extent where the two wouldn’t be able to find one another. All in all, the room was a good pick by her. A very solid choice for the duel.

“Do you have everything you need, ‘vod?’”

The giant turned away from the console and entered the simulation room when she referred to him. He noticed the light jab being thrown back at him from earlier. His grin was hidden underneath his faceplate. Zlova continued as he walked inside.

“I’ll understand if you want to pick up a portable shield or a bacta canister. Or two.”

The Ori’ramikad heartily chuckled. No, he didn’t need anything else other than what he had on himself at that moment. Infact, it would be a good exercise to use his secondaries instead of relying on his usual primary, the Paranaor Blaster Rifle. He couldn’t recall the time where he exclusively made use of his blaster pistols in a mission. It had been awhile. <”I was going to ask you the same thing, actually. Are you sure you don’t need body armor?”> Kranak inquired genuinely. If he wasn’t going to be using training rounds and the likes, then having some form of armor would be beneficial for her, at least reducing the severity of any possible injuries from the fight. Would also mean less injuries he’d have to take care of once the fight was over.

In any case, whether she chose to go get some armor or remained adamant at her decision not to wear any personal protection equipment, the giant would say <”Very well. Hit that switch when you’re ready to begin the fight, then.”> as he pointed at the console by the entrance of the simulation room. Once activated, the console would initiate a countdown ringing all over the place in the simulation room with a short series of beeps, the last one being the longest of the rest, indicating the start of the fight.

Afterwards, the giant would make his way to the other end of the simulation room with quick pace; the rubble underneath his large, armored boots crumbled to dust with loud crunches as he walked. He soon vanished from the Twi’lek’s sight line after disappearing into an alleyway.

 

[Zlova Rue]

Zlova chuckled in response to the warrior making sure, one last time, the Twi'lek didn't want armor. "Even when Sith train there is no guarantee of survival. A Dark Lord has no mercy toward their student. Any that die during training would have been utterly useless in combat, is what we believe. That is universally true." Whether the Mandalorians understood it or not -- whether they appreciated it or not -- their red 'vod' would teach them what it meant to be Sith. One lesson at a time. "Lethan are not that rare among Twi'lek, but they are that rare among Dark Lords. Because their Masters are often deprave creatures that desire them to wear as little as possible without offending their Masters. They are taught to fight this way their entire life. Most Masters believe it demeaning and a way to emotionally control their students." Zlova chuckled again. "Such machinations did not work on me. In fact, in the end, my blade went through their skull because their eyes were on these," she cupped her breasts, "and not on my sabers."

A long-winded explanation why the answer was before and remain now, 'Zlova did not need armor.'

Her golden gaze fell to the console that Kranak pointed toward. With a slight shrug, Zlova hit the switch and turned to stride off in a different direction than her opponent. "Don't hold back, Warrior. Sith mean to kill in battle," she called out as the countdown began. Not that she expected Kranak to, but there were various reasons where he might even consider it. Such thoughts were a mistake.

When the final beep sounded, Zlova turned toward the center of the arena as she drew both sabers out from behind her back. There was no smile on her lips as she stalked among the ruins as a bright, red blight. Unlike her Mandalorian counterpart, however, Zlova's footsteps did not make any noise.

Her senses extended outward in all directions as she moved forward. After all, this was a training session. In the real world a Sith warrior wouldn't be hiding. They would likely be calling out begging for the man to find them. Stealth was for assassins. Zlova would do Kranak the honor of not being that easy to find, however. Let him stalk his prey. Meanwhile, the Twi'lek would use this opportunity to keep her perception honed -- that an enemy may lurk around every corner and attack without warning at any time. Even surrounded by Mandalorian warriors. Perhaps especially because of that as the lone Sith present.

Tag: Kranak Vizsla

Equipment: Two Sabers
Saber Status: Not Ignited

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Lor'vram

Location: Kestri, Tor Valum, The Kom’rk, Training Facility, Simulation Room 34
Local Time: 07:38
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Fight The Lethan
Secondary Objective: Continue With The Day, After Duel
Equipment: Loadout 1 (Medical Backpack, Paranaor Blaster Rifle and Scatter Gun left in his locker in his barracks)
Tags: Zlova Rue

“Don’t hold back, Warrior. Sith mean to kill in battle,”

The Lethan exclaimed at him as he made himself scarce among the ruins while the Supercommando was on his way to his starting point. <”As you say.”> he muttered to himself quietly with a smirk. Though he wasn’t going to enjoy spending the next thirty or so minutes after the duel patching her up and himself. Not that he had somewhere else to be, no. He had his own training and exercise schedule after all. He could postpone a few things to do later on in the day, that wasn’t an issue. The healing felt like a chore. A necessary one at that, but a chore nonetheless. At least it would be worth it, thought the giant.

The giant unholstered his blaster pistol from his right kama holster, and kept the pistol in a high ready stance as he crouched behind some rubble after striding towards his insertion point. Questions that concerned his opponent raced in his mind as he waited for the beeps. What did she excel at in combat? How powerful was she with the force? How skilled was she with the saber? He had fought several Sith before and emerged victorious, but they weren’t noteworthy. Apprentices and a Knight or two. He had no idea of Zlova’s caliber. She hadn’t revealed her level to him, but judging from her demeanor and the tattoos on her crimson skin suggested she was considerably experienced and skilled at the very least. An opponent not to be underestimated under any circumstance. Not that he usually underestimated his opponents, no- but this one would require extreme prejudice to deal with; more than usual, that is.

In any case, he would find out the answers to his questions soon enough.

Beep…

Beep…

Beep…

Beeeeep…

The giant swiftly stood up from his cover and took an alternative path to the one he took to get to his starting point as he headed back towards Zlova’s insertion point, with his blaster kept in a high ready position. His left hand casually rested on his left holster as he tread the derelict streets cautiously, shooting glances to his flanks frequently as he made his way towards her starting point.

The sounds of distant blaster fire and explosions echoed in the simulation room once the simulation began, simulating the scenario. The screens high up in the ceiling and walls close to it showed colorful blaster fire trailing off into the obsidian night sky in the distance. It was a realistic illusion. Considerable amount of funds went into the construction of the training facilities of The Kom’rk, that much was apparent.

It didn’t take long for the Mandalorian to go halfway down as he carefully navigated the derelict streets; the giant Supercommando cleared each and every corner and angle in his path swiftly and systematically with great efficiency, but found no trace of the Lethan, yet.

This was rather unusual for the Supercommando. The Sith he had faced thus far had rushed headlong into combat, impatiently. He should have been engaged by the Dar’jetii by now, if she fell into the category of those Sith he fought before. But no, that obviously wasn’t the case with her. This was… irregular behavior, nothing quite he experienced before. He started to look over his shoulders frequently, on top of checking his flanks as he assumed that the Lethan could get the drop on him from behind. Maybe she was watching her movements right now.

The Supercommando lowered his helmet mounted macrobinoculars with his left hand and turned on his thermals, hoping to locate her position. Anything that emitted heat would glow in his thermals with a bright white glare, as his prefered thermal vision setting was ‘WHITE HOT’. He hadn’t spotted her thermal signature yet at the moment, even with the thermals. The streets were clear. Some of the buildings that were torn down to their very foundations also remained clear. She had to be hiding in one of the buildings, the giant thought.

He also had to start clearing the buildings around him. He could use them for a rally point, or a place to set up an ambush, perhaps. If the opportunity presented itself, or he could create the opportunity himself. The one next to him would be a good start.

The giant gently pushed the door in front of him with his left hand. It slowly swung open to the left. The Supercommando moved as slow as he could, to try and minimize the amount of sound his heavy footsteps made on the ferro-concrete floor, riddled with small to large chunks of debris. He would start clearing out this small apartment complex with caution, frequently looking over his shoulder and clearing his flanks as he made his way up, clearing the floors one by one with his right arm extended; his hands clutching the blaster pistol’s grip.

Spoiler: List of Actions

• Treaded the street to the east with caution while checking his flanks and eventually his rear for the Sith.
• Lowered his helmet mounted macrobinoculars, turned on thermals to find the Lethan’s thermal signature. Yielded no results so far. Deduced that Zlova may be hiding in one of the buildings in the simulation room.
• Before moving on to other buildings on the other side of the simulation room, decided to clear a small apartment complex with extreme caution in his near vicinity to create a rally point for himself.

 

[Zlova Rue]

Everything was quiet. Everything was still as the Mandalorian swept the apartment complex. As one of two living souls in the simulated city there was no life and no signature of anything living having been in any room or hallway Kranak peered into or down. The only sound came from the echoes of a battle long since ended with countless souls lost; their ambitions and dreams cut short to satisfy those of others. Even the echoes of life were absent from the broken ruins of a civilization through which the man meticulously swept.

That was until the men set foot in the upper common area where a cracked, domed skylight lit up the broken, hollow chamber.

"Most believe when the Sith come their deaths will be on swift wings," Zlova's voice echoed throughout the empty hollow of the complex. "But the worst of us, the most fearsome, do not waste their time hacking through the masses like cords of wood. We lurk. We whisper. We hunt." At the far edges of Kranak's vision he might see what appeared to be movement, but any attempt to track it would reveal nothing present. Movement without a source. If heat signatures were all he could see, however, then it might be a faint flicker akin to an aberration in the readout.

Too many thought when her kind would appear it would be with the loudest of entrances. Sith did love their entrances, after all. Responding to such threats was easy compared to when they came quietly in the dark. When they rose up among your ranks and skulked in the shadows. Zlova thought to give Kranak a taste of the Other Side.

Kranak wouldn't have to dance with shadows long, however. This was a duel, and as much as a Mandalorian would need to learn patience when dealing with the more cunning Sith opponents that was not the purpose of this engagement. And so, Zlova crashed through the skylight over head with twin, violet lightsabers ignited as she plunged down toward the warrior below. Shards of glass descended with the red figure in a rain of death from above.

The moment Zlova hit the ground she'd pop back up to her full height swinging. One slash after a another designed to strike at his upper body and head in a flurry of blows. If she only managed to destroy his weaponry that would be enough, but she didn't assume any particular strike would be a killing blow. The assault would only end when she felt -- when she knew -- the man was dead. Jedi and Sith could tell when a blow landed true even when their saber could so easily cut through the flesh of the living.

Of course Zlova might need to halt the assault to instead deflect weapon fire from the Mandalorian. A minor interruption that would be swiftly dismissed, and the flurry continued.

If Kranak expected to find the Twi'lek smirking or grinning with the cavalier attitude she'd shown back in the mess, however, he'd immediately discover nothing was further from the truth. Zlova's lidless, golden eyes practically glowed as they were locked on him; her brow was drawn low, while her lips were flat. It wasn't a lack of enjoyment sculpting her features, but a desire to show him the true face of his enemy -- a ruthless killer than would pursue him to the ends of the galaxy and beyond.

The Sith warrior's foot work was on point; she made certain to secure her weight on one just long enough to move the other. A casual flick just before planting her feet would knock aside even the smallest pebble that might try to destabilize the Twi'lek's stance. Zlova twisted her body to present a narrowed profile, which alternated side to side as she stepped and in line with each saber as it crossed and shot out at the giant. It was the precision born of sheer necessity -- of survival -- from one that went above and beyond a mere Knight. There could be no mistake, no hesitation in one that became a Dark Lord; any that managed the feat through sheer luck were quickly cut down by rivals. Even though Zlova had told none other than Talohn of her true rank, those that fought her kind could discern Zlova was more than a rank-and-file warrior.

Tag: Kranak Vizsla

Equipment: Two Sabers
Saber Status: Both Ignited

Spoiler: List of Actions

• Psychological taunting - attempted illusion of movement in the periphery of Kranak's vision.
• Attacked form above, falling down toward Kranak.
• Flurry of blows at his upper body to wound or disable weaponry and keep him off his guard.

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Lor'vram

Location: Kestri, Tor Valum, The Kom’rk, Training Facility, Simulation Room 34
Local Time: 07:45
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Fight the Lethan
Secondary Objective:Continue With the Day, After Duel
Equipment: Loadout 1 (Medical Backpack, Paranaor Blaster Rifle and Scatter Gun left in his locker in his barracks)
Tags: Zlova Rue

Spoiler: Music

Abandoned, deserted. Devoid of any life. The floors and rooms he cleared were empty, with no signs of the Lethan's presence in any of them so far. There were only small to large mounds of debris, shards of glass from broken windows and knocked over furniture, with a thick layer of dust over them. The simulated, distant blaster fire and explosions echoed into the building softly; the only sounds he heard so far, besides the soft clatter of his armored boots as the Supercommando treaded softly in the building. Bright tracer fire occasionally shone into the rooms through their broken windows.

The Supercommando had methodically cleared and secured several floors before he eventually made his way to the building’s common area in one of the upper floors. That was when he heard her voice calling out to him.

“Most believe when the Sith come their deaths will be on swift wings,”

Her voice echoed throughout the floor he was in. She sounded like she was somewhere at his rear. But he had just cleared that sector! In response to the echoing feminine voice, the giant immediately sprung into action, turning around so swiftly that belied his bulky stature. He cautiously strode in a combat stance with his pistol raised towards what he perceived as the source of Zlova’s voice; it was coming from the master bedroom he had cleared not a few moments ago. He had also caught a glimpse of thermal signature with the corner of his eye while he turned around, also coming from that room. <There you are!> The giant thought to himself, as he moved closer to the room. His back was turned away from the door that led into the common area.

“But the worst of us, the most fearsome, do not waste their time hacking through the masses like cords of wood. We lurk. We whisper. We hunt.”

But the Supercommando moved with unease. This meant she knew where he was. He was now certain the Lethan had spotted him long before he spotted her. And she just revealed herself. Things didn’t add up. <But why give away your advantage?> pondered the giant. The giant abruptly halted mid way to the master bedroom in front of him, coming into realisation of the situation. <No, you’re not giving away your advantage, are you?> he rhetorically inquired in his mind.

Spoiler: Music

It was obvious that he walked into an ambush she had set up. It became even more obvious as he heard the loud shatter of glass, crashing down into the common room to his rear. The distinct snap-hiss of a set of lightsabers accompanied the ruckus. How did she find him so quickly!?

The Supercommando’s body reacted to her entrance subconsciously, thanks to the years of training and exercise drills he underwent ever since he could walk and talk; he spun towards the common area swiftly, with his blaster pistol raised, his finger trigger resting on the pistol’s hair-trigger. But the Red Devil was faster than he anticipated! He saw her mid lunge when the giant laid eyes on the Lethan, well into the execution of her attack. Her pair of lightsabers glowed with a bright, vibrant white in the Supercommando’s thermals. The woman herself was also highlighted white from lekku to toe.

Instead of starting to shoot, the giant decided to dodge, block or absorb her attacks at that moment. The giant raised his left arm, using his vambrace like a shield in order to block her first flurry of strikes as he lowered his right hand by his hip. When the opportunity presented itself, the giant squeezed the trigger of his particle blaster pistol aimed at the Lethan’s midriff, but the shots yielded no effect as the bolts struck her lightsabers and dissipated into thin air.

The Red Devil struck him hard and fast with her relentless saber blows. His ‘gam’s personal energy shield glimmered with a lively, energetic blue around the areas her lightsaber struck, sacrificing a portion of its battery charge to absorb each hit. He could feel the force behind her strikes. Much to his surprise, several of her blows forced the giant to stumble backwards, as he momentarily lost his footing on a few occasions as he tried to keep up with the Lethan, but the Supercommando was quick to regain his balance and continue to endure against her attacks. This was no ordinary Sith, not of the likes he had encountered before! Her attacks were concentrated on his upper torso, neck and head. She truly was coming in for the kill! He had found his match.

The giant blocked, dodged and sidestepped several of her attacks successfully with impressive agility and rapidly at first, but she was simply unrelenting in her assault. He would not be able to keep up with her for long, she was unnaturally more nimble than the Supercommando, and his personal energy shield was starting to run out of charge rapidly. It wouldn’t be long before his shield would need to enter into a state of cooldown and recharge.

The Mandalorian began moving backwards as he tried to put some distance between her, but it was to no avail, she just kept coming at her! <Agh! Alright then.> He would have to push her back to create the distance he needed, then. The giant raised his right arm against her lightsabers as he pulled back his left hand and swiftly charged up the weaponized repulsor built into his left vambrace. The device charged up with a high pitched, energetic whine.

With a loud, bassy boom, he discharged his repulsor directed at the Red Devil. Dust and rubble would be kicked off from the ground from the blast, in hopes of both disorienting and flinging her far enough away from him in order to try and create some distance between her that he could use to work with. If successful in his attempt of disorienting and pushing her down the corridor away from himself, the Supercommando would follow up swiftly with a rapid return fire with his particle blaster pistol at Zlova.

Spoiler: List of Actions

• Fell for his opponent’s ruse, incorrectly assuming she was behind him in one of the rooms he cleared, but was an illusion. Correctly deduced from her echoing words he was walking into an ambush of his Opponent, and swiftly took action accordingly just in time.
• Blocked, dodged and absorbed several hits, but only just. Several blows went through, striking his personal energy shield. Energy shields charge rapidly draining from the flurry of blows endured/absorbed, coming ever closer to a forced recharge state with each blow received.
• Discharged particle blaster pistol aimed at her midriff several times, but to no effect. Opponent masterfully blocked the bolts with her lightsabers.
• Discharged a powerful blast from weaponized repulsor on his left vambrace, in hopes of flinging her away from himself and disorient her in the process. If successful, action would be swiftly followed by several rapid shots aimed at her chest.

 

[Zlova Rue]

Zlova was pleased to discover Kranak was not overconfident in his abilities. The Mandalorian managed to defend against the onslaught from the start, and was still alive as a result. If he'd been a lesser warrior than he let on, the Twi'lek was fairly certain she could have stopped short of actually killing him; but in battle nothing was guaranteed.

A blade dropped from the barrage when Kranak's pistol aligned itself with her gut. Energy washed over her forearm and even tickled her belly from the burst that resulted from an intercepted bolt. That was enough for Zlova to identify the kind of weapon Kranak was using. One intended to be used on a lightsaber-wielding opponent. The man was as smart as he was capable then. It was not yet enough to pause or halt Zlova pressing the assault, however.

While the strikes streaked through the air they carried a surprising amount of weight behind them. Not as much as someone that used slower, more Force-concentrated blows, of course, but enough to generate loud cracks and pops whenever they struck Kranak's shielding. There was no intent to give Kranak a reprieve either; Zlova fully expected the giant of a man to formulate a plan to escape his predicament and counter. Because in the real world his Sith opponent wouldn't give him any more time to think.

Golden eyes briefly snapped to the vambrace as it emitted a whine. The twin violet sabers crossed between them as the repulsor discharged into the Twi'lek. A well executed counter that knocked Zlova off her feet; and despite the Sith performing a mid-air flip to land half-crouched, but upright, she was again pleased the man had the mental faculties able to change his approach while under such an assault. Some warriors could become mesmerized by the light cast by the blades, or paralyzed in fear where they could only use the weapon already in hand. Yes, Kranak was a seasoned and capable warrior. Zlova could see how he survived battle with Sith before.

Despite how the repulsor caused Zlova's ears to ache, the Twi'lek began to advance one step at a time toward Kranak. Her lightsabers swept and batted at the particle bolts he shot off. Each one splashed her with energy that tickled, pricked, and sizzled against her flesh. The woman's dark lips began to pull back into a broad, toothy grin under the barrage of lesser but endured effects of Kranak's weaponry. Truly a useful blaster against her kind, but not enough.

Or so it seemed. The Twi'lek's expression darkened with shadows eclipsing her brightly shining golden rings when one of her sabers actually flicked after it blocked another bolt. They were not out of power, Zlova was not so careless with her sabers. Then the other saber snapped off, and immediately she knew the man had outmaneuvered her. The patience of those that could not use the Force themselves!

Just as suddenly as the saber snapped out, the Lethan's face whipped back to Kranak as she let out a deep, enraged roar. That one of his bolts managed to graze an upper arm didn't seem to register in that moment. The hand that held the inactive blade shot forth to plow an invisible hand into the Mandalorian warrior in an effort to now send him flying backward.

The remaining saber snapped off, and the Force then wrapped itself about the red woman in such a way it would conceal her presence. Invisible to many forms of electronic and organic means of detection, Zlova stalked forward after her quarry. All the while she projected her voice once more as a Sith would in battle, taunting their foe, "The Sith crash upon our enemies as an unending tide. We will sever your defenses and your alliances. If you cut one of us down, another rises. If you wipe us all from the galaxy, we will return. We are relentless." It was time to see how her opponent would react to an invisible enemy he knew was there prowling the same room as him. All while Zlova allowed time to dissipate whatever effect the man's pistol had on her blade.

Tag: Kranak Vizsla

Spoiler: List of Actions

• Was thrown back by the repulsor.
• Deflected incoming shots.
• One saber snapped off due to the WESTAR-35c's radiation.
• Zlova sought to Force Push Kranak backward.
• Zlova became invisible using the Force.

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Lor'vram

Location: Kestri, Tor Valum, The Kom’rk, Training Facility, Simulation Room 34
Local Time: 07:47
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Fight the Lethan
Secondary Objective: Continue With the Day, After Duel
Equipment: Loadout 1 (Medical Backpack, Paranaor Blaster Rifle and Scatter Gun left in his locker in his barracks)
Tags: Zlova Rue

The Red Witch’s golden eyes shot at the Supercommandos left vambrace for a brief moment as she heard his weaponized repulsor charge up with a distinct whine. She must have known of, or faced similar weapons in the past as she stepped back and criss-crossed her sabers in preparation for the imminent kinetic blast. With a loud, bassy boom, the giant had managed to send Zlova flying away from himself, earning himself some hard fought respite for the moment. The Red Devil hadn’t lost her balance, nor was she disoriented however. She masterfully flipped mid air and landed at an upright half-crouch stance, several meters away from Kranak. She was considerably acrobatic. <An Assassin, perhaps?> The giant pondered as he grasped the pistol grip of his blaster pistol with both his hands and squeezed the trigger, keeping its barrel aimed at the Lethan.

The blaster pistol shrieked with sharp, wicked whines with each squeeze of the trigger, sending a long salvo of blaster bolts against the Lethan. Each blaster bolt was swept away by the witch’s lightsabers as she started to make her way back at the Supercommando, starting to close the distance between them, slowly but surely. He could see her lips broaden with a toothy smile, only for her mood to be darkened when one of her lightsabers flickered. The other one snapped off not a moment after.

He was using a special blaster pistol, his preferred choice against all sorts of foes he would face in the field. The design was as old as the Paranaor Blaster Rifle. The blaster pistol’s design mostly remained the same, but was modernized to meet the ever changing demands of the battlefield of their times. The blaster bolts the pistol discharged could not be deflected against the shooter. The bolts bursted in contact with hard surfaces, and with sustained fire and enough time, it could overload shield generators, and an energy weapons magnetic sheath, such as lightsabers.

Technological superiority. That, and the smart use of such weapons and gear, coupled with the clever, and sometimes devious tactics was what won them so many victories in the past, thousands of years ago and into the present day. They had beaten the foolish, imprudent Jedi, and the ever scheming Sith with these means. The Mando’ade would continue to do so, as long as they remained in the stage of history for hundreds of more years to come.

The Red Devil let out a deep, enraged roar at the Supercommando as one of the blaster bolts struck and splashed over her crimson skin over her upper arm. There were no hints of pain in the blood curdling roar, however. He could feel the anger in her voice. Her hand that held the shorted-out lightsaber swiftly extended towards the giant in response to the Mandalorian.

The Supercommando suddenly found himself flung away mid-air towards the ferrocrete wall several meters behind him, as if hit by an invisible truck, just after the Red Witch extended her arm towards the giant; his kama fluttered violently as he was flung. The giant soon disappeared from Zlova’s sight as he was flung through the ferrocrete wall behind him.

The impact kinetic gel underneath his back plate cracked into pieces as it absorbed the brunt of the impact. But bruises and the sores from the impact would be the least of his worries. Blood slowly dribbled on the floor, forming a small pool of blood by the giant’s feet; the blood trailed down slowly onto his pouches on his belt and long black kama from the exit wound on his abdomen. The giant was impaled against a rusty rebar, jutting out of a ferrocrete column behind him. The beam had punctured straight through his flesh and several of his internal organs. At least he wasn’t thrown off the building. He was at the edge of the ruined floor. If he was flung a meter to his right, he would have fallen down on the debris of an air-speeder parked on the pavement of the street down below. Dealing with broken bones would have been a lot worse for the giant.

The giant glanced at his vitals on his interactive heads-up display with the corner of his eye. He was slowly losing blood, but he was not yet in a critical state, as the rebar was stemming his hemorrhage. But he couldn’t remain pinned on the column, either. He had to pull himself off the reinforcing steel.

The giant only let out a muffled gasp of pain as he clutched the rebar with his left hand tightly. He had been wounded way more seriously than this in the past. This injury didn’t hurt as much as the ones he experienced throughout his lifetime, but it pained him considerably regardless. The giant endured the pain, as it would be unwise to show weakness in front of his foe. Maybe she would have exploited that as the fight went on if he had shown weakness.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to pull himself out of it with one hand, but he barely moved. He was properly pinned to the column. <Haar’chak!> The giant exclaimed internally. With a leathery, soft clack, the Supercommando calmly holstered his blaster pistol before he grasped the rebar jutting out of his abdomen with both of his hands. He placed his right feet against the column behind him, and started to pull himself off the rebar’s grasp. It had dug into his flesh deeply. He had to be quick about this. The Red Devil could be just behind the corner, ready to launch a counter-attack.

After a moment’s struggle with the damnable steel rebar, the giant was no longer impaled. The Supercommando pulled himself off it with a sickening, meaty slit. The giant stumbled forward once he was free from the metal beam’s grasp. His blood splashed on the ground and on his feet, as the rebar was no longer there to be used for stemming his hemorrhage. The giant swiftly reached out for a Bacta Grenade from his grenade bandolier with his left hand. With the push of the red pressure plate on the bacta grenade with his thumb, the device soon spewed out bacta to its surrounding area with a hiss as it released a vibrant blue mist into the air and on the Supercommando.

The giant’s Bacta Processing Implant embedded into his body processed the bacta as soon as the mist from the bacta grenade was released into the air. The cybernetic implant enhanced the potency of bacta greatly, as it boosted the rapid tissue regeneration of the bacterial particles in the bacta, healing his critical injury within seconds, right before the giant’s eyes.

The giant’s chest fell and rose softly as he catched his breath for a short moment. He would be under the effects of considerable blood loss for a time, however. The regeneration his bacta processing implant provided to the Supercommando would stabilize his vitals in due time, but he would be feeling slightly dizzy until then.

“The Sith crash upon our enemies as an unending tide. We will sever your defenses and your alliances. If you cut one of us down, another rises. If you wipe us all from the galaxy, we will return. We are relentless.”

The Red Devil taunted him as the Supercommando was in the process of regaining his strength; her voice once again echoed in the building. The giant quickly unholstered his blaster pistol from his right holster; the pistol grip was smeared with his blood as he grasped it with his hands. His head and body snapped towards the voice.

Scanning his surroundings with his helmet macrobinoculars still flipped down, the giant could not locate her once again. There was no thermal signature to be seen. Yet again, she was nowhere to be seen, with the giant presumably remaining in plain sight of her. Was it cloaking technology or the force? It had to be the latter, as the giant didn’t recall her wearing armor of some kind. Her clothing looked stylish, but was simple clothing. He had read about the force abilities the various noteworthy force users possessed in history to learn about the possible abilities his enemies’ could have possessed, but he didn’t see anything quite like this before.

But all was not lost. If he couldn’t see her, he could force her to come out of hiding. He would play into her taunt firstly. <“I am the shield your unending tide shall break upon, Sith!”> The Supercommando bellowed loudly, as he walked towards the large hole in the wall he created once he was force pushed into it; bloody boot prints trailed close behind the giant with each step he took on the floor. Stepping over the rubble and entering the large corridor that led to the common area once again, he kept his pistol at a high ready stance as he cautiously walked the corridor, assuming a combat stance as he did.

Once he was inside again, Kranak reached for one of his Dioxis Grenades that hung on his grenade bandolier over his chest plate with his left hand. The giant pressed on the maroon, circular activation plate at the top of the grenade, and dropped it on the ground. The cylindrical grenade rolled on the floor slowly, and dispersed its green, toxic contents with a hiss after a moment later.

<”COME, SITH! Show me what passes for fury among your misbegotten kind!”> The giant challenged her as the green toxic gas swallowed him. His helmet’s built-in rebreather automatically activated the moment his helmet sensors detected the noxious gas, drawing clean air from his armor's oxygen supply. He wasn’t sure if she would buy it, but it was worth a shot. The Lethan didn’t have a rebreather on her as far as he remembered, but that didn’t matter. He knew the force users such as herself had the ability to hold their breath for long periods of time. If she was still somewhere on this floor, and used the force to conceal herself from him, then the giant assumed holding her breath for a long period of time would cause her to lose focus of her concealment. The giant would pace down the corridor towards the common area with his blaster pistol raised, walking cautiously as he paid close attention to the sound of the slightest movement, as he couldn't rely on his vision at the moment. He would be expecting the Red Devil to show herself soon.

Spoiler: List of Actions

• Repulsor blast successfully opened up some distance between him and his opponent.
• Retaliatory counter attack from his opponent was successful. Kranak was flung through a wall from Zlova’s Force Push ability with great force.
• Kranak sustained heavy trauma from being impaled by a thick rebar jutting out of a ferrocrete column in ruins. After a few moments Kranak managed to pull himself free of the rebar.
• Healed his critical injury in a matter of a few seconds using a Bacta Grenade. Healing process was sped up tremendously by his bacta processing implant in his body. Sustained considerable blood loss. Under the effects of blood loss until the volume of blood he lost can be replaced by his bacta processing implant.
• Answered back at Zlova’s taunt in hopes of forcing her to come out of hiding. Kranak chucked a Dioxis Grenade into the corridor where he suspected she would be near to speed up the process.

 

[Zlova Rue]

In response to Kranak's retort of being The Shield that would break the Sith, laughter echoed throughout the ruins -- from every direction, near or far.

After it died down another wave, louder than the first echoed through the simulation chamber once more.

No verbal response came as the man commanded his physical vessel back into the arena he'd been cast from. His pursuer prowled the edge of the open area with golden rings silently burning as the Mandalorian stepped back into the ring. His courage was not so easily broken. His nerve not so easily shaken. Good. Good, Kranak would need them if he had any hope of fulfilling that boast of his.

The Twi'lek watched as the man dropped a grenade that began to dispense a cloud about him. A green veil began to envelop the armored warrior. It was true his technology would allow him to see despite a fog clouding the visual spectrum, but Zlova doubted it was a smoke screen. The Force allowed a similar means of vision, after all. Even sheer instinct alone was enough for a Sith -- or Jedi -- under such conditions. Some form of toxin then designed to force her out of hiding. Perhaps she'd warn him later about how enraged Sith were prone to collapse entire buildings to kill a single person. Not that there was any ideal response in those circumstances.

Then Kranak cried out under the watchful gaze of the heavens and Nether to challenge her. A smart way to draw a hidden, arrogant enemy out of hiding. Yet, it had a fatal flaw.

The Mandalorian had invited the Sith to demonstrate the depth of their fury. Were it just overloading a saber that fury would be rather pitiful, really. What was disabling a lightsaber in the grand scheme of things? That wasn't what Kranak had said, however. He wanted to see what 'passed for fury' among the Sith. Not how it made her felt in the moment, but her unbridled rage.

If Kranak had been Force Sensitive this mistake would have been known a moment before his senses recognized Zlova's movements. The Twi'lek had dropped the Force Suppression that she wrapped herself in constantly. Then she'd streaked across the open floor faster than the eye could see, with the Force Speed collapsing the Force Invisibility; her passing stirred and blew away the cloud of gas in the red one's wake. No sabers ignited as the tempest closed on Kranak's position. The only light was from the glint in the monomolecular edge of the Sith's golden eyes.

When the gap between them closed, Kranak might notice a black mask of sorts that laid over the top half of the Twi'lek's face. In one of the brief moments of stillness that followed, perhaps he'd see it wasn't a mask at all, but Dark Side corruption that'd spread outward from her eyes.

Whether the Mandalorian managed to get one or more shots off, Zlova swept in and started with a hookercut with her right hand straight at Kranak's chest. Unlike almost any other sentient in the galaxy, however, the Twi'lek's hand would not shatter on impact with the beskar. It wasn't necessary to rely entirely on one's physical body when the Force could form a gauntlet around your hand, brace your arm, and supplement the power behind a blow. If Kranak wanted to see the fury perhaps he would appreciate feeling it as well.

It was an uncivilized galaxy. For now, Zlova would show her opponent just how savage it could get.

Her next strike would aim for the blaster in his hand. If Kranak didn't put his toy away then Zlova would strive to disarm him; she would alternate between pounding his armor with her firsts and trying to knock the weapon free or break it. The blaster was probably more susceptible to being brutalized than the beskar-made shell the man wore. While the rage burned within, Zlova was also mindful of the Mandalorian's vambraces in the event he managed to get his arms down while engaged in such close proximity.

How long could Zlova sustain such a barrage under the circumstances? That was the question.

Tag: Kranak Vizsla

Spoiler: List of Actions

• Waited for Kranak to reappear.
• Dropped Force Suppression.
• Dropped Force Invisibility/Cloak.
• Used Force Speed to close the distance.
• Used Force Rage, Enhance Attribute to bolster durability and physical attack.
• Launched a close-quarter combat, fist-based assault on Kranak.
• Will attempt to disarm Kranak or destroy any drawn weapon.

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Lor'vram

Location: Kestri, Tor Valum, The Kom’rk, Training Facility, Simulation Room 34
Local Time: 07:49
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Fight the Lethan
Secondary Objective: Continue With the Day, After Duel
Equipment: Loadout 1 (Medical Backpack, Paranaor Blaster Rifle and Scatter Gun left in his locker in his barracks)
Tags: Zlova Rue

The Lethan’s response to the Mandalorian’s answer to her taunt came in the form of laughter, colder than Kestri’s winter. It echoed all around the Warrior; her sardonic laughter resounded in the ruins of the apartment complex. The giant Supercommando halted as he scanned his surroundings with vigilance, expecting the Red Devil to execute her counter attack at any moment.

As he stood still, glancing at his surroundings for Zlova, another wave of her underestimating laughter resounded all around him after the Supercommando challenged her -louder than the first one. How Sith of her! But the giant had achieved what he wanted. It sounded like he was successful at taunting Zlova back to have her reveal herself. It seemed he wouldn’t need the noxious gas to flush her out, after all. He hadn’t heard of a Sith that backed down from a challenge yet, she was no different than them in that regard.

The giant snapped to the rear as soon as he heard the Red Devil’s swift footfalls on the ferrocrete floor. The green noxious gas that had swallowed the giant parted to the sides and blew away to the sides and out of the common area’s broken skylight. The Lethan appeared as a white streak on his thermals as she executed her attack so swiftly, denying the opportunity for the giant to let loose a flurry of blaster bolts aimed at her.

Spoiler: Music

With an impressive display of speed, agility and rage, the Red Devil was right up in the Supercommando’s face plate. Not a moment after she was close, she landed a heavy blow on the giant’s broad chestplate, with a force that belied her physical strength. The kinetic impact gel underneath his chest plate first stiffened to absorb the blow, then cracked and pulverized into dust, all of it happening in the span of a mere moment! He felt the power behind the blow, alright. The impact gel took the brunt of the blow, but his chest stung in pain from the punch. If it weren’t for his armor and the kinetic gel, the blow could have very well stopped his heart.

Maybe his taunt worked a little too well.

Taken aback by the sheer force behind the blow, the giant stumbled backwards, but was quick to regain his balance to defend himself against her incoming strikes after her devastating opener. Her next strike was specifically aimed at his blaster wielding hand. The strike landed right above his right vambrace. Like any traditional Mandalorian armor, his beskar’gam didn’t provide full body coverage for him, so there was no piece of armor protecting him from the Red Devil’s surgically precise strike. The blow landed right on his cubital fossa, his elbow pit. His right arm stung bitterly from pain. That was going to leave a mark.

His blaster pistol slipped from his hand as a result of the blow; with a clatter, the particle blaster pistol dropped on the ferrocrete to the Supercommando’s side. Swift blow after blow landed on the giant once Zlova disarmed him. <Such ferocity!> Exclaimed the giant internally with amusement. To say the giant was very impressed with her would be an understatement. With each vicious attack the Red Devil launched at him, the Supercommando’s respect towards her increased. He, like the rest of his vode, valued and greatly respected the strength in both their allies and enemies, no matter how detestable the latter would be. And not just physical strength, no. She was devious, smart and powerful. Her mettle appeared to be tried and tested. She was a very strong opponent. She fought dirty, using her strength and abilities to its extent. That was commendable, and rightly earned his respect.

The Supercommando was forced to enter a defensive stance by the incoming storm of jabs, punches and other strikes she hurled at him. Swiftly, the giant pointed his left shoulder at the Lethan, trying to stand sideways against her opponent to reduce his silhouette, limiting the surface area of his body against her blows first. The giant then swiftly tucked his elbows close to his sides, with his forearms raised over his chest, right under his chin to block incoming blows aimed at his chest and face. He kept his feet apart in a shoulder width to keep his balance; his knees and hip bent slightly with his back fairly straight. His feet were both turned towards his target at a forty-five degree angle, distributing his weight evenly and balancing himself.

A textbook defensive stance of the Mandalorian Core. The giant entered the defensive stance in a matter of seconds in response to her unrelenting strikes against him.

The Red Devil’s fists would crash upon his vambraces as he blocked and endured her strikes. His defense would be effective against his opponent, but some of her powerful strikes would go through his defense on occasions. One particular blow was struck at his side. He felt a bone crack under the punch. The Warrior’s jaw clenched, gritting his teeth as he endured a cracked, broken rib. He wasn’t sure how extensive this injury was, but assumed it probably wasn’t something so serious, as he didn’t feel the bone rubbing and piercing against his lungs, yet.

His defense was strong and somewhat successful, despite several blows finding their way through it, but he knew a good defense could only be achieved with a good offense. He wasn’t just going to sit there, roll over and take a beating. He had a few ideas to try and bring the pain to the Lethan in return. But first, he needed to limit her angle of attack. As it was, she had the most advantageous ability to choose her angle of attack against the Supercommando. She was also unnaturally fast on her feet, which enhanced her advantage two fold. He had to take away that advantage from her, somehow.

In an attempt to use his surroundings to his advantage, the Supercommando slowly started to pace backwards against the doorway that opened up to the common room as he continued to block and occasionally endure hits that went through his defense. He would stand right below the doorway’s frame in hopes of limiting her angle of attack from a three-sixty degrees radius into a ninety degrees radius, hoping to force her to take more predictable angles of attack that the giant could work with.

Once he was in place, he wouldn’t be launching his counter-attack yet. He continued to withstand her powerful strikes with his defensive stance right under the doorway's frame. The Supercommando would study her swift pattern of attacks behind his visor, trying to see and anticipate how often her fists crashed on his vambraces. Once he figured out her pattern, with a pre-recorded movement of his eyes, he would pop both of his vambraces' built-in monomolecular edge wristband blades, hoping to catch her by surprise if she happened to crash one of her fists into one of his vambraces. That would be his opener.

If his opener would be successful in taking her by surprise, the Supercommando would then execute his counter-attack with a series of strikes, jabs and blows aimed at her vulnerable points in hopes of exploiting her situation. The giant would be getting out of the defensive stance and assuming an offensive stance as he would launch his counter-attack.

Spoiler: List of Actions

• Taken by surprise from his opponents, rage induced strength and swiftness at first. A very powerful blow landed right on his chest plate, shattering the impact kinetic gel underneath the beskar chest plate.
• His opponent’s surgical blow landed on his right arm’s elbow pit, resulting in Kranak losing the grip of the particle blaster pistol he held with his right hand.
• Forced to enter a defensive stance due to the onslaught of strikes and blows aimed at him.
• Walked towards the doorway behind him slowly as he blocked several blows, in hopes of limiting Zlova’s angle of attack considerably.
• After studying the pattern of her attacks and keeping in mind how often her blows landed on his vambraces, Kranak would activate both of the monomolecular edge wristband blades right before one of Zlova’s fists would crash into his vambraces to surprise her.
• If successful at his attempt to catch her by surprise, Kranak would switch stances from defense to offense and execute his counter-attack at Zlova, aiming for obvious points of vulnerability such as the neck and the groin.

 

[Zlova Rue]

Darkness rolled off the crimson skinned Twi'lek as the fires of a celestial forge burned in the sockets of her skull. Punch after punch pounded against the Mandalorian's resilient armor, alternating between left and right. If it hurt to strike Kranak's defenses there was no indication of it on the dark visage that swam before him.

The barrage assailed everything from his waist to his head. Zlova's feet shifted about the ground to keep her positioned before her prey whether he stood his ground or retreated. Each step was chosen and claimed instantly in step with the man before her; her weight evenly distributed in case the man tried to attack under her guard. As for Kranak's own footing, the Zlova didn't bother trying to undermine it. The fight had advanced from coy to serious and was now at could-not-give-a-damn. Still short of calamity, however, so the Enclave wasn't at risk.

A sharp, heated breath gushed from the Twi'lek's blackened lips as the Mandalorian tried to present a slender profile for her to attack, and an easier one to defend. Prudent, but it did nothing to deter his attacker. If she had to raise her hand to pound down atop his shoulder, or lower it to come up at his side, Zlova was happy to bruise, break, and batter whatever flesh and bone Kranak chose to share with her. It did make uppercuts and a number of other powerful punches far more difficult given the space between them, which was also wise on his part.

Every now and again, however, Zlova would shoot to the left or to the right in a flash. Then a hook or uppercut designed to seriously wound would be delivered at Kranak. The sudden pivoting was no doubt what prompted the Mandalorian to begin formulating a plan to restrict her movement. So far she had been unable to deliver a blow that truly connected, but which of them would run out of stamina first? Zlova was confident it'd just take one well-placed punch to end the bout; perhaps one that would incapacitate the healer so he wouldn't be able to heal himself from the injury. Dark pulsed through the Twi'lek's body as blood, however, and while the thought regarding the outcome was there it wasn't worth dwelling on. Kranak wanted to see and feel the rage of a Sith. They could not let him think it was so easily spent.

Once Kranak chose his spot to stand, his opponent was forced to attack predominantly from one angle. To compensate it seemed as though the Sith's blows rained down with even more Force than before. Whether that was because Zlova no longer needed to use her power elsewhere, or in an effort to convince the man to move who could say?

That's when Zlova felt metal suddenly introduced into her left hand. The blow connected and then the Twi'lek froze for that instant. No effort was made to immediately retract her limb. The pain was mind-numbing. It burned like the surface of the sun. Blood welled up and ran freely over her fingers and began to form a small puddle on the floor below.

Kranak took that time to deliver his counter without hesitation. Zlova's red body jerked under the force his blows to her abdomen, left arm, and chest. Unlike the Mandalorian, his opponent wore no armor at all. Every connection carried with it the full strength of the man behind it, and his sculpted physique made certain considerate, raw strength could be delivered on command. The strikes to her arm hurt, but did not break any bones; while those to her midsection cracked several ribs. Reinforcement had been concentrated in the parts of her body used to assault Kranak, not in defense for those the man would land. Sith could fight defensively, but what was the point in that?

If his interest was in somehow ending the conflict quickly or somehow weakening his opponent, however, Kranak's assault against Zlova's groin would do neither. It did hurt, and the red woman's upper body did jerk forward, but discipline overrided the instinctual urge to curl up. Instead she hissed in the Mandalorian's face as a viper warning a nearby creature it chose the wrong place to exist.

Before the man's assault could rapidly progress to perhaps her face for a knock-out blow, Zlova jerked her left hand back allowed even more blood to pulse out from the wound between fingers. That same hand quickly reversed course so her fingers could wrap about his wrist; at the same time the Twi'lek stepped into the assault, closing the gap between them, as her right hand went under Kranak's own arm. She pivoted as the gap closed to present her side and back to the man where he might get in another shot, but in doing so he only assured the grapple-and-throw maneuver would work. For the Sith sought to heave the four-hundred pound Mandalorian over her shoulder and slam him back down the floor out in the open where his doorframe would be of little use.

If it worked, Zlova would leap into the air over the man's helmet in order to come crashing back down with her knee pointed at his face.

Tag: Kranak Vizsla

Spoiler: List of Actions

• Swing away.
• Punched a wristband blade with her left hand, and left it there.
• Got battered by Kranak for a moment, quickly sustained injury due to lack of armor.
• Grabbed for Kranak's wrist, pivoted in toward Kranak, and attempted to throw him over her shoulder and throw him to the floor on the other side of her.
• If successful, launch into the air to bring her knee down on Kranak's face.