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Upon the impact of the blast, Tros cut the power to his jetpack and landed on the ground in a very wobbly way. He stood for a moment, observing and taking in the full scene of carnage of the small battlefield. Vulios dead on one end. A knocked out jetii on the other. Letting out a sigh, he walked towards the jetii, picking up her lightsaber as he did. Each step sent pain throughout his leg from the place of where the lightsaber struck on his thigh. The pain now very evident since adrenaline of the fight was wearing off, and since it was the first time since taking the blow that he even put weight upon it. As he got to the jetii, he leaned down on his good knee, activating the lightsaber in his left hand to avoid the potential pain within his right arm where the jetii also struck. He was a bit disappointed that the blast didn't kill her, only knocked her out. "I would love to kill you today jetii. You killed my mentor. You deserve it." Tros lowered the blade to rest upon the right shoulder of the jetii. Not enough to do anything other than burn through her arm slightly. After he knew that it caused as much damage as he took, he leaned in to whisper into her ear. "And I know that somewhere within your head, you can hear me. So I'm saying this as a warning. You are going to be my messenger for all of the Jetiise." He then moved the blade to rest upon her right thigh where she also struck. Again, only letting the blade sit long enough to burn and cause as much damage as he received from her. "Twice now in the past few days I have had a jetii become a problem to me. Doing damage beyond what they should, and ignorantly thinking that they are gods of some sort. You are no more than a being how bleeds and dies like everyone else. And because of your ignorance, my clans... my House... We are now fully at war with you jetiise. We will burn, destroy and kill your kind everywhere we can." Tros now stood up and held the blade over her stomach. She would be the message to the entire jetiise. "Let's see your precious 'force' save you from this." With his final word, Tros slammed the blade into her lower abdomen. He let it sit for a moment before he deactivated the blade. "Congratulations jetii, you are now at war with the Mandalorians." Without taking another look, he began to walk towards the location of where Vulios's body lay. He knew that she would survive her wounds, far better than what Vulios did. As he came to his body, he kneeled down and placed his buy'ce upon his mentor's buy'ce. "Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la." After he spoke his words, he picked up his mentor's beskad and placed it upon his own weapon armament. At that moment, Sutu arrived and looked at the field of carnage. "Alor, most of the city is now burning... did the jeti do this?" He pointed at Vulios's body. Tros simply looked at the sky for a moment, watching it burn. "Yes. From this point on, we are at war with the jetiise. Collect the gear of the fallen. We have much to prepare."

Pain and hatred swirled in her head like a tornado, feeding off each other, fueling the inferno that coursed through her mind. The holes torn in her shoulder now burned, embers had found their way into the wound and festered. The pain had become intoxicating. As her nerves were seared under the older flames, there was an odd sense of euphoria. Her left shoulder still burned, but with less intense pain. The fire however still raged across her right shoulder, and had found a balance as it scorched her flesh. She sucked in the pain, internalizing it and enthralling herself in the sick pleasure she felt. There was an ear drum shattering pop in that moment of indulgence, followed almost instantly by an equal explosion. Her instinct sharp, and the force as her guide, she leapt into a long roll to her immediate left. The metal shavings plunged into the joints of her prosthetic leg. The flame on her back flickered in the roll, but had spread down her back. Her knee and ankle clicked resiliently as she stood. Something had become jarred, it hadn't rendered the leg immobile, but a great degree of force was required to move it as normal. Kahla sneered as she turned to the flea ridden mongrel. He had made the mistake of putting one of his men in her path to him. She started a maddened sprint towards them, the loose soil almost hardened to stone under the pressure of her force aided tear across the field. Pure agony and fury drove her forward, through the infuriating defiance of her metallic leg. The next two canisters of flechettes were nearly vaporized by the burning crimson plasma of her lightsaber, cut down in a wide flick of her left hand. In her right, the saber blinked away before she stowed it on her belt. With both hands she gripped her left saber tight, lifting the blade over the smoldering flames before bringing it down with the might of pure rage that had festered inside her, seeking to cleave the soldier from shoulder to hip. Lost in the reverie of the burning that tortured her back, she carried the momentum back up and into an opposite sided slice, from the other shoulder nearer to the lower chest. Her attention turned quickly to her wolfen foe, who now brandished a blade of his own, her right hand loosing its grip as she brought her saber over her right shoulder. Kahla sprung forward, her robes struggling to keep up with her as they flew in the breeze. She drew her right handed blade from its rest, holding the inert hilt outstretched as she brought her first blade down in a wide, arching slash; the force pulled at her arm like a rope tied it to a speeder. At the apex of the swing her second blade whirred back to life, quickly following the firsts path with equal speed and precision. The scarlet hues danced and blended with the bright oranges and yellows of the fire that roared across her back. Her mind was almost trapped under the seething and boiling of her exterior, the fire itself became the nourishment of her rage and she embraced the pain like a loving mother would her child. ((Offensive Actions)) ((Defensive Actions/Damage Taken)) ((3)) ((This was a great duel, I had an absolute blast writing it!))

If there was one thing that he remembered, it was his time in the private security company Arasuul. He hadn’t had a good training session in ages, but the instincts were still there, even if they took longer than he would have liked. Up went the clipboard, tossed as a distraction as his hand found his level three retention holster. Down press the thumb, rock the heavy blaster forward, then up along the torso into a position of firing near his stomach. Then depress the trigger. He could feel himself slapping the trigger in the excitement of the moment, something his instructors always told him not to do. But he had not practised the long drills in over a year. So this would have to do, and the entire area was lighting up around him. His sights settled onto the creature who’s scythes were currently severing the arteries of Nathaniel Krisferi. A nice guy. And someone who certainly, at least in this guards opinion, did not deserve to be cut down like a nerf sow. The sights settled for a moment and his eye only saw the front post of the blaster and he let loose with everything. Almost in slow motion he could see one of his brilliant crimson blaster bolts slam into the side of the creature’s neck. Blowing through flesh and bone. Killing the Jensaari Defender almost instantly. Pitching him into the dark, sun beaten dust of Ryloth. Of course the guard himself did not last much longer, and a bolt of Jude’s caught him under the chin and pitched him into the crumpled wrappers of his cookies. It had only taken a few seconds, but hundreds of rounds were expended, the front gate guards were dead. And every single alarm was blaring in the slaver facility.

First, the good stuff: -I appreciate how each opponent let each series of attacks do something to them without crippling them. Each side felt like they were respecting the other throughout the duel. -In the same regard, no side tried to create a “gotcha” moment or make themselves seem impossible to fight, instead playing their characters tactically without trying to control the narrative to their side. I have a few comments, but it isn’t really bad stuff so much as things I would have liked to have seen expanded. -Tros takes the first lightsaber blow to his thigh. “The blade cut through the armor plate and flesh.” While we don’t see how damaging this blow is, we do see that he favors it later in the same post. However, the damage is a bit forgotten after this. In the second post he lands, and there’s no mention of the leg injury. This isn’t a big deal as he doesn’t start sprinting or anything, but I would have liked to see it brought up as it seems likely he would have felt it. -On a similar note, Alcemene takes a blaster shot to the wrist that blows apart the “tendons and muscle,” along with the shield. It’s a pretty harsh injury from the brief description we get, and it’s also forgotten afterwards. Again, like with Tros, it’s not a big deal as we don’t see her trying to fight two-handed or anything, but it seems a serious enough injury that I would have liked to have seen it mentioned again. Then there are two issues with the duel that I need to bring up before ruling. -Alcemene, I notice you didn’t call back to the damage you suffered in your previous duel. I 100% get not wanting to mention it, and I would have been fine if it was mitigated a bit in some way, but not ignoring it entirely. -Tros, I hesitate mentioning this as the class rules are very new, but your arsenal in this duel did violate them by employing a heavily armed minion in addition to your own armor and collection of weaponry. As we saw, that was a big advantage in this duel combining your mobility, multiple firing points, a sacrifice, armor, and a varied arsenal against a melee fighter. All that being said, the new rules did go up on the same day this duel started, so consider this a friendly warning for next time. Understand that what I said in the beginning still stands. You both fought admirably and with respect for the other person, and the way you handled each other’s attacks and played to the flow of the duel instead of one-upping each other was awesome! This ruling is a bit tough due to the issues I mentioned above and how they gave each side advantages they should not have had. Both of you also fought very evenly through the fight, taking hits and writing well. Final Ruling: Tros wins

The small Jedi shuttlecraft burst out of hyperspace over the old planet of Vernza-Torrah. It had been more than a decade than the planet had been touched by the galaxy at large. Though it had long been within strike range of the Alliance’s holdings at Bothawui, the planet had lain untouched. A relic of an earlier age, with no natural resources or shipyards to bother with. Nor had the planet reported any particular sign or contagion of the ancient Sith Powers. But Sandy let herself listen, expanding her presence in the force, listening to the stillness of the planet. Looking for a hint of anything. For if the ancient threat had reawakened, then the Council needed to know. And quickly at that.