The blade snapped to life in the same way he remembered. Quick, surgical, almost like an afterthought. The gifts of the Force were otherworldly- senses that could bend around time, reflexes that could answer in kind, and an eerie sense of calm in the face of certain death. He had faced those same sensations countless times in his life, and his muscle fibers still recalled the responses that the omniscient energy breathed into them. He trained for weeks, months, years even simply to gain even a fraction of those levels of awareness and responsiveness on his own. Mandalorian armor was their evolutionary answer to a galaxy of veritable demigods, blessed with a power they had not earned.
He understood both sides of the coin now. As the metals sloughed away from the plasmatic weapon and the Force Adept faced him down with peerless conviction, the Mandalorian steeled himself.
98 shots left in this mag, he thought,
I could take potshots at him for hours, maybe wear him down, but ammo is expensive and time is precious.
There had to be a better answer.
He subtly flipped the magnetic lock online, in the event that the other man might attempt to disarm him with an unseen hand- Alkor had used that trick many times himself. With steady hands and a firm grip, he fired once more at the man attempting to talk him down from a fight, then shifted gears. His torso jilted to one side as he swept the muzzle away from [member="Veiere Arenais"], over to a target that could not defend against his shots.
The first round, after all, was a decoy.
With his adversary preoccupied, he could utilize the recoil of his rifle to aim higher, and by shifting in one direction just enough, he could see it clearly. The fuselage of the Starfighter that this man had come down in, exposed by the blast that had brought him down. His HUD painted it as a volatile target, and even screamed a warning that it could ignite at any moment from the flames around it.
He licked his lips and pulled the trigger a second time, no more than a second after the first.
"Centaris here," he called out over the comm channel, "hostile confirmed. Jedi, by the looks of him. I've engaged- continue with the mission. The Gree citizens should be your top priority."
Even as he spoke, the round screeched through the air at staggering speed.
Take away his advantage, he remembered what he had learned from [member="Zef Halo"],
a Force sensitive who can't use the Force is just another di'kut with a shiny blade.
He lacked the Ysalamir from that lesson, but there were other ways to deprive the opponent.
The two Stormtroopers who had followed Alkor could see him in the distance, engaged with the new opponent. Before his last communication, they had debated rushing to his aid. Armed with the new orders to continue relocating the Gree to more secure premises, they reluctantly turned and hurried to the nearest building, checking inside for any survivors. "Are there any survivors here?" the first man called out. "We are going to move you to a safer location. Rebel Forces in the area intend to remove you from your homes- the Sith Empire will not allow this to stand!"
The Heavy sauntered up from behind his comrade, now aware of one of the Gree who had hidden himself behind some rubble. The building got harmed during the crossfire. It could be rebuilt. "The Gree people are entitled to their homes," he added to accent the former's speech. "Follow us, we will see you liberated from their tyrannical wiles."
The tentacled man was taken aback, but he slowly came from hiding and moved toward the two soldiers warily.
