Kuat

[Sandy Sarna]

“We are attached to the Twenty-Second Orléans my lady.” Came the voice of the heavily mustachioed officer who was giving her a look of some skepticism. He wore the light blue fatigues of the royal marines from the Tapani princedoms, and it struck Sandy with little irony of how many Monarchical groups were fighting with this new rebellion. They had the Royal Hapan expeditionary force which was some kind of attempt to overthrow their own queen mother, then these Tapanis from their little principalities, then finally the Imperial Remnant itself. Who was currently the majority of the commanding fleet that was preparing for its assault overhead. 

 

Sandy would have to give that a great deal of thought. Because if they somehow made a victory out of this day and pressed on to the coreworlds would they enact their own monarchy to replace the Sith Lords? Sandy was surprised to find herself completely ungalled by that prospect and even looking forward to some  good government without all the corrupt senate that they had before… But she had left the Tapani Officer waiting long enough that he had begun to speak again as the shuttle lurched below them. 

 

“And you a Jedi Master? At your age eh, must have been a tough sell to the council, or perhaps it left your knees bruised.” She gave him a wry look and he broke into laughter that was echoed by his equally mustachioed troopers in response. “Hold your neks Little master, I was only playing. No need to rip my heart out with the force, you could do that well enough with your looks.” Her smile flattened then she laughed. 

 

“No chances Lieutenant, but it is a pleasure to meet you and your men. Let’s focus on the task at hand.” 

 

They all continued laughing which brought a smile back to her lips as the shuttle began its journey towards the shipyards Administration complex. 

 

“Now, no civilian casualties. Let's show them grace and mercy should they request it.” 

[Sandy Sarna]

The shiver was peculiar and ran down her spine like flickering lightning. It was not the general danger sense that she had been so long accustomed to, but it was certainly something of the force. An evil, not only pure malevolence, but a familiar one, an ancient...hunger? The same hunger that had been at Onderon. That same evil that had shaken the Galactic Alliance fleet to its core. It was something galactic, a reflection of what she had felt pulling at her in the Maw. 

 

And it was here, tempting at her, luring her. 

 

She knew her face had gone pale because the soldiers gave her an appraising look as the shuttle set down in one of the many hangers that spotted the great shipyards. 

 

“My Lady?” 

 

She took a drink from her canteen and slid the clasp shut. Letting the cool taste of the water cleanse the malodorous hunger that had  touched the back of her mind. She let out a long sigh that was half resignation and half excitement as she reached out with the force. To touch the thing that had left its hungry challenge. She accepted the challenge and returned it with a cool determination. The Rebel Alliance and the Jedi order had come here to confront the Evil of the Sith Lords. She would not back down from that challenge. 

 

She looked back to the soldiers. “I would advise you go ahead with the mission and clear as quickly as you can from this place. May the force be with you.” She let her presence expand and reached out to Aidan as well giving him reassurance and strength before she let her presence shrink back down around her as the soldiers began their advance. The cloak dropped away from her slender shoulders and she flicked the lightsaber from her belt. It ignited into a pale white light which she held aloft like a beacon. 

 

Waiting for this hunger to appear. 

 

[Sandy Sarna]

That hunger, the calm malevolence, the dread and horror which radiated like waves of fire off of the Hutt struck upon Sandy with little grace. It was an ancient thing, hunger itself, and covered in a masquerade of malice. If there had ever been something that embodied the Sith Lords to Sandy Sarna, this Hutt was it. Even the humour, while it brought a wry smile to her lips gave her pause. Was this the Dark Lord? Surely it must be, something so ancient could have survived off of the darkside since the time of Marka Ragnos. But the hunger was too sharp, too piercing to be a lasting hunger. It was the hunger of the Maw. This was malice and gluttony given shape. All consuming, and it must be fed. From people, to starships, planets, to entire galaxies themselves. Leave this hunger alone now, and it would consume everything she loved.

 

The lightsaber showed its bright white light against its glittering eyes, reflecting in cavalcade from the spittle around his great lips, making a dancing and swirling shadow that bounced across the darkening hanger. She spoke at last as she let the force flow around her, mimicking the white light of her saber. 

 

“Let the child go from here Great Hutt.” 

 

The saber flicked its tip towards the distant young girl who was cowering behind his great mass before whipping back up towards the Hutt. 

 

“I do not know you, and I do not fear you. Now I assume you will not surrender?” Her eyes flickered from the axe on his belt to the staff he held in his hand. She had never before faced such an opponent, but she had met and defeated many Sith, and every one had thought themselves unbeatable. And she was a Jedi Master. This was her duty, her great honour. 

 

She took a step forward and let the force flow around her, gathering around the weapons on her belt as she reached out with the hand that did not hold the lightsaber. The force moved and two of the vibroknives flickered off of her belt driving from her right and left in solid arcs towards the hutt’s great mass, their blades a sheen of microvibrating darkened metal guided by the force itself. While she used the force to wrench at the decking below his great mass, it was harder than a simple pull at a man's ankles, but she hoped it would provide distraction enough for the knives to find their purchase.  

 

Summary:

Two vibroknives towards Sheog while pulling at the decking beneath him to distract and break his footing (padding?)

 

((1))

[Sandy Sarna]

The knives made contact of sorts, and one even scored a furrow across the mighty Hutt, but just as the vibroknife cut through putrid flesh, the force was filled with the terror of the innocent girl. Sandy kept control of that dagger as she stumbled against the sudden onslaught of the force. As much as she wanted to cry out to demand that he let the girl go, Sandy knew there was not the time. Every breath used to speak or even utter a curse was a breath wasted in a fight like this one. So she said nothing when the young girl screamed.  Flesh of two kinds ripped and bled, pain radiated like a storm through the force, and blood flowed bright red in the dark hanger.

 

The pain washed over her like a terrible flame, amplified by the evil will of the Hutt it beat upon her like a thousand fists. Battering at the light. Eating at it. She could feel every pain of that child, not just the nerves being cut and mangled but the unspoken horrors of her short years of service. And behind it all was His hunger. 

 

He struck at Sandy’s heart. Her care, her love. But pain, both physical and mental had consumed her before. She had cut deeply into her own flesh then, eating the sad poison of despair and wishing it would kill the pain while it ate at her heart.  Pain was something she had worked the last decade to stand against. She was not a child anymore, she had left the pain of Thalassia and her long captivity behind. That pain had blossomed into who she was today, she had accepted it, and built on that foundation of acceptance. And even the pain of another girl in such a situation would not break her. 

 

She let the pain bathe over her, letting it move through her. Accepting it for what it was. The pain could stop, but only when the Evil in front of her was defeated and in ruins. She could not save this girl, this hostage and shield that the Hutt had brought with him. If the girl died here, Sandy would accept that, even with the sorrow it hung on her shoulders. 

 

Acceptance. She accepted the pain and let it pass through her. Strengthening her light. 

 

And she moved, bringing the blade up, but in that moment she knew she had been too slow, the pain had been a divergence, a ploy, and it had worked. The blade caught the edge of the hutt’s weapon, reflecting it so that it bit into the flesh of her shoulder before it clattered to the decking behind her. Blood spattered red down her green tunic and she could feel her left arm throb in a sudden furious pain. 

 

But she persisted, letting the pain join the flow of the force. Letting the force grow in her until she could feel it pumping through her very veins. She brought the silver blade up and used it to channel that energy. That blade of the fallen knight Relmis. She struck thrice. Cutting for his lower abdomen, chest, and great staff. Letting her presence grow as she did so. The force following with the illumination of her pure white blade. A storm of light to blot out His darkness. For he could consume pain, shadow, and bile. But could he consume poison? 

 

Summary: Slowed by the mental attack, took damage in the shoulder/upper arm, counter attacked with three lightsaber cuts and the lightside. 

 

((2))

[Sandy Sarna]

Dark Sun had come from a man disgraced in her order, a shadow of a man she once had known. Who had followed the much treaded path from Kuat, to Kamino, to Dark Sun. If there was a hell, like the Corellians had surmised some eons before, Sandy was sure it would be filled with Jedi Masters. But she was not one of those Jedi Masters. She had sinned enough to get into hell, everyone had, and she had long fought that part of herself, but she was no mass murderer. She had never stood on a lonely bridge of a battleship and watched orbital rings melt into a planet's surface. No one in her order had. 

 

All of them were long dead. And nothing the Sith Lord could say would shake her of the convictions that had brought her to Kuat. And so, like before. She said nothing in response to the Hutt’s taunting words. Even as his orange blade leapt from his great staff and tangled with her own. But he did not press his attack. Instead, the force moved like fire through him and he opened his great mouth. She gasped as she pulled her lightsaber back and threw forward her wounded arm. A blast of stench presaged the eruption from the great Hutt. And she let the force flow through her in return. She stretched her arm out, biting through the pain, the fingers streaked bloody from the shoulder wound, as all calamitous hell was birthed onto her. 

 

Instincts and resolve brought the force to bear in front of her. As she had done before in the cavernous depths of Scarif. The force flowed from her fingers and palm as they were coated with the bile. A shield forming itself in the air in front of her, its curving sides awash in white energy. Pain, a hot as fire and deep as coal played itself across her palm as the acid made its mark. But it did not coat her body, instead flowing on either side of her as if she was a rock in the Scarif tides. Caustic bile breaking and flowing against the curved shield as she pushed forward against its mass. 

 

She could not last even an hour against the waves, and the dulling pain in her hand told her that it would not even be a minute before she would have to yield to the great sith lord. She took a staggering step forward, the shield pushing the vomit apart so she could get within reach of its source. Then as she planted her foot on the decking against the horrifying vomit, the right side of her hearing became a whine of tinnitus. As the great axe spun its way from behind her, cutting through her soft blond hair, and taking her right ear along with it before it returned to its towering master. Leaving the side of her face covered in bright red blood. 

 

But she did not need to hear to feel the force. And as His storm grew, so did hers. And she did not not to feed of the deaths of children to survive.

 

The shield at her hand crackled with expended energy as it fought its own duel with the Lord of the Krath’s great hunger. And she moved that hand, the pain shrieking down her arm in jolts. Perhaps she was screaming as well, and she could not hear herself if she did. For there was nothing else but this fight, for if she failed here, the armies, the fleet, and Aidan would all be lost. Slowly the fingers of her hand parted as the vibroknife that had once cut the Sith began its quick return. Beckoned by the mind of its wounded Jedi Master. Its red covered blade flicking for the Sith Master's back as she made her last attempt. Little specks and filaments of the acid began to emit from the hole that was opening between her middle fingers, splashing down her tunic's sleeve. THere was a reason for the opening in the barrier-shield, one that Sandy sunk her hopes into. 

 

With a cry of determination, Sandy brought the lightsaber up, twisting her arm until she could push it through the small hole between her parted and burning fingers. The saber coughed and sputtered as it made contact with the bile and vomitus of the great Sith Lord. But it stayed true and she pushed it up and up, until both hands met behind the shield. For she had weathered his storm. Though blood made long rivulets that dripped from her chin and jaw. She had survived his hunger. And if her aim was true, she would cut his gullet with the silver-white blade. 

 

((3))

Summary: Hand half melted, ear cut off. Vibroknife at the Hutts back, lightsaber to his throat