Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Sith-Imperial Tournament- Final Round

Ao Xian

Everyone Forgets the Tail Flick
Gladiator_Fights_copy.PNG

Bastion
Final Round

Round three of the Tournament was over. As the arena was cleared out and everything reset, the occupants of the Emperor's Box deliberated on the results of the latest fights.

The winners and the next round match ups were announced an hour later. It would be a three way final melee between [member="Adrian Vandiir"], [member="Koda Fett"] and [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]. No handicaps, no plagues. Skill against skill alone. The hour growing late, the final round was set for the following morning, allowing each combatant time to be seen by the medics as well as get a full night's sleep. Some wounds could not be healed in even that amount of time however, and some of them might find themselves still at a handicap the following day.

That morning dawned cloudy and chill. The wind swept over the arena.

In the center, the three combatants faced off. The sand clean and raked, the crowd expectant.

[member="Darth Carnifex"] raised his arm.

And the match commenced.
 
[member="Adrian Vandiir"] [member="Koda Fett"]

The Final Round

After a night of rest and hours of ritual preparation, Joycelyn Zambrano found herself in the ring once more. Her rest had taken away any residue of the chemical exposure from the day before, but she still felt some of the more corporeal wounds she had sustained. Medical appliances, courtesy of the illustrious Dr. [member="Farah"] , had patched her up as well as one could in such short time, and the vahlacanthix was ready for a day of battle.

She had made a sacrifice to Vahl earlier that day, burning a simulacrum of her body with a portion of her blood and hair, it was not enough to drain her now, but she could feel the eyes of Vahl had been drawn to her.

Now she stood in the arena, sword strapped to her hip and the inactive shaft of her pike in hand; her body covered in sacred oils and a mixture of chalk and ash to give her grip on her weapons. The wan colour it gave her made Joycelyn look look almost ghostly and contrasted sharply with her attire. While she had, in the previous rounds, worn fairly colourful attire, the young Zambrano now wore an outfit of similar design in a monochromatic colour scheme.

Her chest was bound in charcoal linen and black-dyed sleeves covered her arms down to the knuckles. The sleeves were decorated with dull-grey, metal studs, providing no real protection, but adding to the warrior-esque look of her. Her abdomen was openly visible, rippling under her skin as she moved. Her legs were covered only in a pair of shorts and high, well-laced sandals, affording her the freest movement. Even though armour was outlawed in this competition, she had made a statement of eschewing it in favour of displaying her powerful physique.

Perhaps she was thinking it would frighten one of the less physical combatants?

The moment the match began, she spun around. Her hands shifted on the polearm and swung it, still inactive, at the closest of the two opponents. The songsteel shaft was in no way as effective as the blade it could protrude, but a hit of the silvery shaft would definitely hurt and potentially break bone with a good hit. She was not holding back in this swing; it came hard, and fast, and sudden.
 
The victory was so close. The last night was spent recovering from a leg slice, but not to it's fullest extent. For that required more time. Instead he received bacta, and an array of medical treatment in order to thrust him out into the arena once more. All was well, Fett would push on as he always head. Especially in a time such as this.

His arsenal hadn't failed him yet, and why change what isn't broken? In both hands, with a firm grip, was the electrostaff utilised to defeat Scipio Alta, Khonsu Amon, and Sokar Azad. His helmet, however, remained on his head as always. The vambraces continued shield his forearms, as his bear flesh was kissed by the sun. His legs concealed by pants, and his foot tucked away by boots. It surely wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing attire the Mandalorian had worn, nor was it the most practical. It just made do, and that's all that counted in the sands of this arena. Rest assured, Fett would make do.

This bout was certainly going to be different than the others. For previously he faced non-force sensitives, and low level ones. To face a Knight made things... complicated. Especially considering her height, and weight too. He dug his feet firmly into the sand, it shifting beneath his booted feet. Ready for what was to come next.

A large pole arm came his way, yet effectively moved himself underneath it. An entire lifetime of combat allowed one to react in such a way. Although, the rangefinder narrowly avoiding being slapped off of the helmet in it's entirety. Fett's focus was on Jocelyn after all. He kept his distance, though. Ready to analyse, as per usual.

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Adrian Vandiir"]
 
Outwardly, Adrian looked pristine. There were no visible injuries, his black and grey duelling outfit with its crimson trim all but identical to the previous ones, though he now only carried a single vibroblade, this time strapped to his hip.

Appearances could be deceptive.

He had regained full functionality of his left foot, but even the top-tier medical treatment he had received had been insufficient to fully restore his left arm. He was able to move it around a bit, and the fingers were fully functional, but he would have to be careful. Any major physical exertion and he was sure it would be back to hanging limply at his side.

This time, he had been able to study his opponents' fighting styles. To a limited degree, anyway. He knew that they were both physically inclined. That suited him perfectly. He had heard of the bounty hunter. He had quite the reputation, but without all the gadgets his kind relied upon... well, he was far more worried about the other opponent. A Sith Knight, the daughter of the Emperor no less. If she could be eliminated, he was confident of his abilities to eliminate the Fett. If he managed to retain the advantage of range, that is. He was not so arrogant as to think that he stood a chance against the hardened warrior in a fair fight.

As the Knight lashed out against the bounty hunter, he was already scurrying backwards, keeping his front towards his opponents. This was perfect. If he played his cards right he might be able to help the Fett defeat the greatest threat, then strike him down before he had the chance to reorient.

Still moving backwards, he would try to get as far away from the fight as possible, all the while preparing to make a force-assisted leap backwards if anyone diverted their attention to him. With any luck, he would look like a coward. A nonthreat. That might just give him the opportunity he needed.

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Koda Fett"]
 
Concealed by a taozin amulet and a truly glorious fake moustache, Captain Jorus Q. Merrill watched from the middle of the crowd. Getting in here - here being Sith space - had taken longer than expected. He'd missed the first few rounds. But this match was shaping up to be worth the hassle of infiltration.

"Come on FETT! WOOHOO!"
 
[member="Koda Fett"] [member="Adrian Vandiir"]

And they were off.

Joycelyn's swing went wide and the mandalorian ducked underneath. In her peripheral vision, she could see the acolyte run off and gain distance. It did indeed look to her as though her ran out of cowardice, and as it stood, Fett looked like the more pressing issue. He kept himself within her range, this suggested to her that he was confident enough to think he could take her on in melee. Moreover, he had not pressed a counterattack after her initial swipe, that suggested something more in his priorities.

Still, she did not quite forget about Adrian out in the periphery.

She let the staff swing around to her shoulder where it came to rest. While it was not in front of her, it was ready to lash out again at a moment's notice, a guard of counterattacks and aggression. However, rather than bring her weapon around in a second swipe, she let go with her left hand and traced it past the lower half of her face. As it passed, she took a deep intake of air, and opened her mouth in what would first appear like a shout. Rather than sound came a torrent of flame that shone in her yellow eyes and cascaded towards the Mandalorian with the threat of enveloping him in its ravenous embrace.

She was curious as to how he would fare against fire, many found it difficult to avoid. Though it was also difficult for her to be mobile while releasing such a torrent of it. And once more, she counted in part on the fear factor of her attack. Not only was she giant to these men, but one that would breathe flame down upon them.

In his sheath, Zaudraka was gleamed with this exertion of fireshaping from his carrier. His investment in her carried her closer and closer to true understanding of the element of power.
 
​The Bounty Hunter remained in a hunched position, prepared to move out of the way of whatever came next. He wasn't entirely willing to take on the seemingly giant woman who looked as if she could tear the Mandalorian in half. For now, he figured he may exhaust her until that 'coward' came back. In truth, Fett saw through the lie. You didn't make it to the final round of a tournament with Sith by being a coward. An opportunist, maybe, but not a coward. His feet firmly planted in the sand, cautious eyes concealed by a Mandalorian helmet as they stared into his adversaries.

The cheer from the crowd was always appreciated.

​Fett would certainly be lying if he claimed to not be perplexed as the woman took in a deep breath, but he was ready to move at whatever came next for a breath like didn't appear to be apart of the natural process. Then, well, she breathed fire. A blazing arc of flames was thrust in his position, soon to envelop the Mandalorian Exile (whether he was self-exiled or not was up for debate). In a rapid motion he pushed himself to the left, both arms ahead of him as they rest on the electrostaff that continued to zap violently. Head first into the ground, tucking himself in for a roll to avoid the flames as they licked at his skin. The heat was tangible, and he winced beneath his helmet for the briefest of moments- coming clear of it's area of attack.

This foe was too large. Too strong and with too many tricks. As much as he hated to admit, without his gear he needed the other man.

Koda backpedalled, shifting away from Joycelyn as he came closer to Adrian. "Take her together!" His voice bellowed out from underneath the Mandalorian helmet as he offered a glance over his left shoulder.

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Adrian Vandiir"]
 
Fire launched forth from the woman, though the Bounty Hunter made good of his reputation by dodging out of the way, if barely. Adrian had to admit he was impressed; he might have been able to block it, but he doubted he would have been able to duck out of the way, even with his force-enhanced senses. He would have to keep that in mind, if his plan worked.

The crowd loved it, of course. It was flashy, impressive, and, with any luck, tiring. How much so was impossible to tell, though going by her reputation a battle of attrition would be largely unfeasible.

As Koda was getting to his feet, he considered his options. To attack directly, or take on a more supporting role, that was the question. His musings were brought to an end when the Bounty Hunter shifted away from the towering woman and towards him. That was not the plan, though the man was still facing Jocelyn. A more rash Acolyte, goodness knew there were far too many of them, would likely have taken the opportunity to strike at Koda when he least expected it. To Adrian, it was an opportunity in an entirely different regard: It meant the Bounty Hunter trusted him, or rather his common sense, enough to band together against the greater threat. That was a relief, as some Mandalorians tended to be absurdly honourable, which would have complicated things.

"I thought you'd never ask." The element of surprise was lost, so there was no point in playing the coward anymore. Squaring his feet, he slowly raised his hands upwards, closing his eyes as he began to conjure up a small sandstorm, concentrated around the Epicanthix. The Bounty Hunter, conveniently placed between him and Jocelyn, had a helmet, no doubt outfitted with top-tier sensors. With any luck, his little parlour trick would give the Fett a noticeable advantage, without expending too much energy on his part.

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Koda Fett"]
 
[member="Adrian Vandiir"] [member="Koda Fett"]


When Koda moved away, she tried to pursue him with the fire, but he ultimately slipped away from her and over to the third party of their little battle royale. The intent between them was clear; the words reached her ears just fine. So this was the way it was going to be: Two versus one - Joycelyn standing against the little folk. A final burst of flame billowed out of her nostrils as she took a step back in preparation.

Her hands went back to the songsteel rod in her hands. She kept the left hand about two fists from the butt of the pole, and her right hand another three fists from the thumb of her left. Her thumb nestled into the little groove there as she kept her weapon reared back and ready to swing forth in a strike. While her weapon was not in front of her, the threat of it was immediate. Funny enough, it was called he "woman's guard"

And then it felt like the wind was picking up around her. Sand whipped up around her, obscuring her field of vision. At first it stung, but she remembered the lessons of [member="Lassiter"] in the pitch dark of one of her dungeons. It was a lesson she had walking two steps behind her at any time, made flesh by Pythia. Joycelyn's eyes closed and her grip on her weapon tightened, then loosened. She felt her surroundings, every grain of sand and every current of air. She could see and not see, no colour, but a hyper-defined scope of her surroundings.

She stepped forward half a step with her left foot, seemingly blind behind her closed eyes. Her weapon swung forward as though swinging blindly, but she kept her elbows in tight, making sure the weapon did not swing out of control. As it was in front of her, she followed up with a true step, putting her right foot forward. Her hands jabbed the shaft forward, ten or twenty centimetres out of measure, but closer. She seemed to be probing, keeping her balance.

Click snap-hiss
Ninety centimetres of lightsabre blade burned forth at the apex of her thrust. Two prongs of shorter blades burst out at its sides, widening the threat greatly. With the blade engaged, the jab had turned into a fully fledged thrust, straight at Koda's lower abdomen.
 
The Mandalorian shifted through the sands as the optics within his helmet alternated until he found the perfect one that provided the most visibility. After all, only the best will do. Unless he desired to fail, which was certainly not the case. In both his hands remained the Electrostaff, each near the opposite end in order to provide maximum flexibility as to what he was to do next. The sand turned into a storm, obscuring the vision of all inside and from those trying to look in. Fortunately , the technological edge was Fett's, as per usual. The stinging sand impacted with his scarred skin, yet he paid it no mind. Beginning to encircle his enemy from a safe distance.

Yet, it mattered not, for the gift of the force was another obstacle he faced once more. Oh how he despised such a thing. His fear of the unknown turning into a hatred. Joycelyn turned to face Fett with each movement he made, ultimately thrusting in his direction to reveal a lightsaber blade with two additional prongs out the side. It was a weapon he couldn't seem bypass, at least not by himself. She had the reach, the height, the weight and the force. A deadly combination. The only defence the Mandalorian could muster in the split second was a lunge of his own, but instead in the opposite direction. Make no mistake, that Fett was quick off the mark with a reaction time akin to a force users, or something nearby.

His body crashed into the sand behind him, kicking up a sandstorm of it's own, but successfully rolling back onto his feet. As it was aid before: he could not take her alone, not like this. A ranged combatant such as Fett was at a disadvantaged, and he hated that more than the Force. Perhaps Adrian could see that, maybe he couldn't. Koda was too caught up in the moment to make idle commentary as to what the Acolyte was to do next. His visor locked with Zambrano's eyes.

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] - [member="Adrian Vandiir"]
 
For a moment, the storm served its purpose. The towering woman was impeded. Blinded. But that didn't last long. He had hoped it would at least prevent her from sensing inorganic objects, such as the Bounty Hunter's electrostaff. It didn't feel like that was the case, based on her motions, but he couldn't tell exactly; after all, his senses were just as affected as hers, probably more. It was entirely possible that her skills were honed to the point where her weapon might as well have been an extension of her arms; either way, she still had her precognition. Either way, she was still able to keep up with, and quite possibly beat, the Mandalorian. That simply would not do.

Furrowing his brow, he allowed his concentration to deepen, though not to the point of becoming entirely unaware of his surroundings; he was confident that Koda wouldn't try anything yet, but she might. Distance meant little, after all, if she was trained in more than simply swinging a weapon and exhaling fire.

For once, he had the time he needed. His other matches had been a constant struggle to maintain his distance, but, with the assistance of the Fett, he finally had the time to concentrate properly.

Springing into motion, fingers dancing through the air like a conductor to an invisible orchestra, he put one of his plans into motion. For a few moments, the storm would disperse outward and upward, more sand rising from the floor to join it, then it would surge inward. It was time for him to take a more offensive role. Under his directions, it would crash towards her from all directions, intended to wrap her in a cocoon of sorts. Once that was done, regardless of whether she was enveloped or simply nearby, he would pour his will into a barrage of lightning, hopefully vitrifying the fine particles as they fell. He had experienced firsthand the effect of force lightning on sand during his last round; this time, he had every intention of ensuring that the Zambrano was at the receiving end.

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Koda Fett"]
 
[member="Adrian Vandiir"] [member="Koda Fett"]

As her weapon thrust forward, the Mandalorian launched himself out of the way. While she kept him at bay, she could also not get a hit on him. That was better than nothing, Joycelyn supposed. Now, if she could snuff out his aid, she might be able overwhelm him entirely. This sandstorm was annoying, distracting, but a good reminder that there was another competitor in the ring.

She pulled the spear back slightly, bracing it against her hip and keeping it secure as her left hand let go of its shaft. Her snapped in the direction of Adrian, immediately followed by a turning of her hip and an extended left hand. She kept her point at Fett while trying to send a wave of Force to grab Adrian and pull him into the fray. However-

With her arms extended wide, she found that the sand withdrew, then rapidly coalesced around her, tightening on her form and restricting her movement. She then heard the crackle of lightning, surging through the air and melting grains of sand together in a hard shell. It stung her, made her muscles convulse, but she couldn't move for the sand. Her teeth gnashed together hard as she was, piece by piece, imprisoned. It burned her, cut her, bludgeoned her. Her lip cracked, her arms bruised and bled, but inside-

Inside: rage.

This was not the normal rage of any unstable individual, but one that permeated throughout the Force like a mist. The fire of Vahl grew in her chest, stoked by the subtle voices of Zaudraka. She had to win, she needed to win. Not just for the glory of the Empire, but for the glory of herself as a successor, a pillar on which the Empire may one day rest.

From the tip of her spear, lingan turned to ash as she drew on it for power. Glass cracked as she pushed beyond her limits. Burning lingan for power was not without dangers, but right now it may just be what she needed to overwhelm her two assailants. She flexed every muscle in her body, arms curling in towards her chest and knees curling up to her abdomen, and as her body pulled itself together, she spat out a repulse to break the sand and newly formed glass encasing her form. The glass in particular was sent out like shrapnel.
 
This wasn't entirely pleasant now. Glass shards erupted violently to be sprung in a repulsing manner across the arena, and perhaps even into the stands. It all depended on how high this glass was to spring, and how high the audience sat in comparison to the sandy earth of the pit itself. Fett had never taken much note on the comparative differences between those that held the mantle of Jedi and the Sith in terms of what powers they utilised. Now, he could quite easily differentiate. The Sith were violent, full of rage nd anger, nothing about elegance or tranquility. It was anger in which they fuelled upon and eroding the bear that was Joycelyn Zambrano only appeared to make her stronger. Perhaps it was merely a singular decisive blow that was to do the trick.

The Mandalorian braced himself, throwing himself into a kneeling position with his head struck out first. The beskar of the helmet protecting a significant portion of his body as the glass was thrown in his way, but it wasn't enough to save him from it's entirety. Glass tore through his skin, slicing away at the edges and imbedding itself in the rest. Make no mistake, that Koda Fett was a strong man and deceptively so, but he couldn't help but grunt with the pain and clench his teeth beneath the helmet as it chipped away at him- piece by piece.

A concentrated fury is what follow as the Bounty Hunter rose up to his feet, charging forwards with his feet carving a path through the sand. The Electrostaff held in his right hand, moving down by his side with each rapid step. It was from side to side in which he weaved, almost side-stepping in his best attempt to remain free to dive out of the way if need be. If he's able to get close enough he'd slide right down into the sand feet first upon the right side of the Zambrano, snatching at her ankles and attempting to raise himself upwards in one quick motion. Only further embedding the glass into his skin, tense the whole way through. His intention was to sweep her legs out from underneath her, hopefully giving him the time he needed to take her out.

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] - [member="Adrian Vandiir"]
 
His plan had gone off without a hitch. She had been encased in a glass coffin of his own making, but she was Sith and a powerful one at that. Even in his moment of triumph, he had doubted that she would go down so easily. Soon after, he had been proven right.

Her rage had been palpable, even to one not particularly skilled in the ways of the empath; it had given him the warning he needed, though only barely.

As the shards of glass exploded outward, he had already been in the process of forming a bubble of incandescent energy around himself. Even so, he still felt the force of the shards impacting his barrier with a surprisingly high velocity. The distance from the Zambrano kept the exertion from being too tiring, with most of the shards finding nothing but empty air, but it cost him his momentum; the sheer ferocity of the attack convincing him to keep up the barrier for a while longer than would have been necessary, strictly speaking.

For a while, at least, she would be free to act unopposed, though he had no intention of giving her too much breathing room. After all, everything depended on keeping her from being able to subdue them through sheer overwhelming force.

As the Fett made his final approach, Adrian would mould his defensive bubble into an orb of shimmering energy, then hurl it at the titanic woman. It was not his best work, far from it, but it would do in a pinch; some distraction would certainly be better than none for whatever the bounty hunter had in mind. He could only hope that the hardened warrior knew what he was doing, that he knew how to combat force users without all his fancy gadgets.

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Koda Fett"]
 
[member="Adrian Vandiir"] [member="Koda Fett"]

No time to stand, no time to rest - She could feel the lignan ore fogging her mind and the rage sharpening it. The Force called to her and her vision tunnelled. And so, as Fett came in for the attack, she made ready to skewer him, but the spearhead hit only sand and burned it to pearls of black glass. He was indeed able to grab her feet and pull them out from under her.

The world tumbled around as she reoriented herself, and in a moment of pure instinct she threw her weight around. Rather than fall on her stomach, she fell on her back. Her left hand clapped against the sand, breaking the fall before the rest of her body. The fine grains working their way into her wounds hurt, but she did not lose breath.

From her prone position, she could see both the mandalorian and the Acolyte, almost in line. The Acolyte released some sort of attack, and a smile spread over her lips. The left hand that had clapped the sand turned and curled like talons as she tried to push Koda into Adrian's line of fire and buy herself a moment to get back on her feet. Meanwhile, the grip on her spear shifted, she pulled it closer to defend herself should the mandalorian not be hit by the acolyte's attack.

This was not a good position, but she would persevere. She had to persevere. Inside her burned the raging fire of Vahl, unrelenting, all-encompassing. It burned in her eyes, giving her the sinister glow of Sith corruption.
 
It was time to press the advantage.

The Mandalorian was successful in bringing the rather large Zambrano down to the ground, and onto her back. A surge of energy manifested via the force was sent in their direction from Adrian, whether it was an attack on the two of them or just Joycelyn, Fett didn't know. He only trusted that the Acolyte was smart enough to know that he couldn't face the Vahla by himself. He needed the Mandalorian, and Fett supposed he needed Vandiir. Both of which stood on either side of the arena from one another, Zambrano between the two of them. It was now or never.

Koda had grasped at her ankles on his way to his feet, finding himself behind her as she went crashing into the ground. The two weren't in line, and in fact opposite one another with Joycelyn on the ground between them. Her attempt to thrust Fett in the direction of Adrian's attack hadn't worked, and either one of them were in her physical blindspot. Although, it was entirely possible that she sensed them. Fett wasn't a practitioner of the force, and he wasn't willing to dispute how it worked. The attack was well on it's way, and the Mandalorian stood his distance, willing to jump in and strike her down the second she made a move to her feet.

@Joycelyn Zambrano - [member="Adrian Vandiir"]
 
Ironically enough, the impressive speed of the bounty hunter had worked to his detriment. Impressively enough, Koda had managed to pull Jocelyn off her feet while positioning himself behind her supine form before the projectile had reached its destination. This had, of course, put him directly in the line of fire of the unguided attack.

Gritting his teeth in annoyance, Adrian made a yanking gesture, forcing the orb to disperse harmlessly. Had he been an expert of energy manipulation, he would likely have been able to salvage the energy, but he was not at that point yet. Far from it. As it stood, the energy was wasted. How annoying. He wasn't feeling the fatigue, not yet, but so far he had been moderating himself. That was clearly not going to get him anywhere. No, it was time for more decisive action.

Whether she was still on the ground or had managed to get to her feet, it mattered little. Either way, he would reach out with his right hand, a slight tint of orange in his blue eyes as he moulded his emotions into a fine point of raw passion, seeking to smash his way through the Zambrano's natural defences.

Brow furrowing with exertion and a slight layer of sweat on his forehead, he doubled-down on his efforts, his undivided focus on her trachea. While he focused on choking her, he did so with the full realisation that it was unlikely to work. There was a reason such techniques were rarely used except when the user was substantially more powerful than the victim. In this case, the situation was closer to being reversed. That being said, she gave off the air of a melee combatant; she did not seem like someone intimate with the subtleties of the Force. With any luck, she would lack the finesse to turn him away effortlessly. With any luck, she would be forced to meet his challenge head-on, hopefully leaving her open to an attack from the bounty hunter.


[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Koda Fett"]
 
[member="Koda Fett"] [member="Adrian Vandiir"]

Her gambit was less than successful, but the acolyte had not released his attack upon her out of fear of dispatching his ally and pushing the odds in her favour, so she still had a chance. She just needed to get back up on her feet without the Mandalorian landing his attack on her. Se would need a cover and she would need to put pressure on the two of them again.

Snarling up at Koda, flame once again burst from her body. However, this time it did not only come from her mouth, but from her hands, her feet. The tendrils of yellow flame burst out like the tentacles of a rathtar as she threw her legs up and turned her hips. Her long, splayed legs turned in a set of spiralling kicks as she threw herself up on her hands and then to her feet. As she moved, the tentacles of flame swirled around and around, forming a protective globe of fire that obscured her form and radiated an intense heat.

Her feet hit the heated sand, and her hands splayed out to both sides. The globe of fire cracked in the middle and welled out to the sides in a pair of vicious waves that swiped out to either side. One lashed at Koda, the other reached far, far stretching thin to threaten Adrian. As the waves of fire detached from her hands, Joycelyn turned towards Adrian and, with the Force strengthening her legs, bringing her speed, moved towards the acolyte with her spear in one hand and murder in her eyes.
 
​The Mandalorian was certain that his victory was a certainty. With the Zambrano on the ground, a final blow may remove her from the competition. Then? Then it was the Acolyte, a man who was capable of wielding the force, but not so much in the way of actual force, at least by comparison that is. However, in his moment of triumph the hubris took over. The saying 'watch out for things that go too well' wasn't heeded, and Fett paid the price as a result. One may thing that after all this time he was to grow weary of the Sith and their capabilities. Although, he never truly fought against them- only alongside them. If the pay wasn't as great as it was, Fett may of considered a change in sides. Then again, the Jedi were never a friend of Fett's.

Flames thrust themselves in his direction and all around the Zambrano, a whirlwind of fire consuming her being- but a Vahla surely wasn't to be killed by them. His heightened reaction speed assisted him, but only slightly. The fire struck at his skin, and when the swathing motion struck with force he flew from his feet, striking the sand and rolling through it until eventually coming to a stop. That wasn't going to take him out, however. No, not at all. The Hunter was resilient and persistent, in the past a certain Jedi complained as to how futile it was to try and kill Fett, for he never seemed to die.

As he rose to his feet, it was too late to stop her. She was off and into the grill of Adrian. He didn't think much of it, though. It only meant one less person to worry about when the Vahla was taken care of.

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] - [member="Adrian Vandiir"]
 
Fire washed off the towering woman in waves as she shrugged off his attack. To make matters worse, the sudden blast of fire flung the bounty hunter backwards, leaving Adrian open as Joycelyn rushed towards him.

Gritting his teeth in frustration, he extended his hands forward, drawing the fire to him and absorbing it. Even so, his tutaminis was far from perfect; he could absorb some of it, most of it, but not all. As the pair of waves washed over him he felt his skin blistering and his outfit catching on fire, but that was the least of his concerns. For the moment, at least, he was far more worried about the giant of a woman barrelling towards him, spear in hand. His back was to the wall, he had nowhere else to go. It was now or never. For a moment, his eyelids closed.

A moment later they snapped open, unveiling two orange-tinged orbs. Body all but shaking from the exertion, he thrust his right hand forward, projecting a beam of incandescent purple energy towards the charging woman.

As soon as the energy left him he stumbled backwards, back meeting the edge of the arena. He was not spent, not like in the last match, but it would take a while to recover. Too long. If the woman dodged the attack, or if she soldiered on through it, he would be out of options. Should that happen, he would yield. Some would consider that cowardly, but he knew better. He was a poor swordsman, even on the best of days. Melee combat with the Emperor's daughter would be short, painful, and embarrassing; no, better to back out while he still had the chance.


[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Koda Fett"]
 

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