The Assault
"You're taking the men up to the bridge, to capture or destroy it." Nodding his approval, Graun chews over a few thing for a moment before the obvious question comes to mind.
"And what will you be doing?"
"I felt something evil in the beast's belly. I'm gonna go fight it."
The evocii takes it surprisingly well, simply shrugging before rolling on the thick woolen coat he wore to battle. "You're not back in fifteen minutes, I'm sending men after you." Slapping a power pack into his rifle, his helmet pops out of the back of his armor, forming around. "Right, let's move!"
Pulling the hood of your cloak up, you slip your lightsaber into your palm.
Shadow On The Walls: 13+27=40/50 Revan Reroll:5+37=42/50
The crew doesn't notice you, at least. However, the Dark spark, at least, has begun to notice you, gathering strength in itself. You are marching towards a prepared Force Sensitive, a poor situation at best. Still, how bad could it go?
The air grows stale and cold, filled with the scent of death. The lights grow dim, the grates sound rusted under your boots. The whole places feels wrong, like an oozing wound on the galaxy. The shadows lengthen, and a sound like the beating of a heart fills the air.
Lies: 11+17=36/60 Reroll: 28+17=45
Something about this whole scene strikes you as off. Why would any captain let their ship decay so much? Why would they let it rust? Why are there no guards? Still,something in you accepts it and you continue on, Saber thrumming to life with the depression of a button.
Dodge!: 24+17=41 Vs. 5+19=24
Suddenly a boot flies from the darkness, a low kick aimed for your knee. You, however, grab the leg that boot is attached to and throw the body out into the darkness. A pale skinned man holding a lightsaber in his hand, armored and gasping for breath as his back slams hard into the metal, shattering the rusted floor. You don't give him time to recover, stabbing through his chest plate with your yellow blade, turning durasteel to slag near instantly.
Fight: 33+17=50 Vs. 93+18=111
A blade slashes your knee out from under you. You fall, as your mother strides out into the room, Mandalorian armor. "I brought you into this world, Jedi. I'll take you out, too."
Lies: 38+27=65/65
It takes you a moment, but you finally put the pieces together. "My mother's been dead for twenty years. If you really wanted to screw with my head, whoever you are, I woulda suggested someone a bit more recent." She shatters, the apparition fading away. "Low blow, still." Twisting your shoulder, your saber just barely blocks a red lance of light from gutting you. "One you're going to pay for."
"Nicely done, Jedi." The Dark Sider steps into the light, a lightsaber already held in her hands. "I must confess, I had thought for sure your blinding by the Light would keep you from the seeing the truth." Her face remains cloaked in shadows, hidden from the whole world. "I am Domina. I have no quarrel with you here. My wrath is aimed at the heretics who we both hate. Stand aside."
"From where I'm standing, you're all heretics."
She salutes you, and you return it from muscle memory. "Know that this could all have been avoided."
Dark Against Light: 11+17=28 Vs.59+17=76
You just got through an emotional storm of epic proportions, and it shows. Your grasp of the Force becomes shaky, unstable, while hers is nearly flawless. Her blade is fast, faster than yours even. She is quick, and about as subtle as a brick, but you'd be lying if you said you couldn't respect the kind of skill she possesses. More than once, her blade bites deep into your crystal arm, barely being held back.
Finally, something in your defense slips, something goes wrong. Her blade goes bites deep into your leg's armor, only thick durasteel keeping you from being even more crippled. You fall to the ground, Lightsaber held defiantly in a two-handed grip. "You just ruined my leg."
Recovery: 1+17=18 Vs. 6+17=23
"And I'm about to ruin a whole lot more, old man." You leap at her, and she leaps too. The two of you come to a standstill a foot away from eachother. Her armor, if you want to call it that, is cut at the strap, where a nice scar is soon to be added at her shoulder. You feel proud of that for a moment, before you notice something. Your saber feels lighter, less weighty. With a dreadful hiss, it falls apart, components littering the ground. "Yield, Jedi."
Drawing your neglected Chainsword from its scabbard, you feel the engine thrum to life. Her eyes open wide.
"That's new!"
"Indeed."
Final Pass:43+17=60 Vs. 82+17=99
Cracking her neck, the disciple grabs her blade in a two grip. She holds it in the Dark Side mockery of your own style, Juyo. "Won't be enough, though."
Your blade moves with speed, with vigor and strength. It's not enough. Before you ca get the final blow in, she slices it apart, the whole thing simply sliding apart.
Then, she does something unexpected. She salutes again, raising her saber up high.
The Battle Above: 60+18=78/50
She is stopped from killing you by an explosion wracking the ship. She decides that discretion is the better part of valor and flees, while you hold your gauntlet to your face, a flickering little image floating to your eyes. "General, report."
"We have the bridge, for the moment. The enemy might notice at any moment: We need orders, now. What do you want us to do before we retreat."
"Hold that thought." Flicking the second button on your gauntlet, a small image of Ackbar rising from it. "Admiral, you heard the man. Jump into system, and be ready for battle."
You need to get the orders into Graun, and quickly. There are a few that jump to mind of immediate worth:
[] "Destroy the Patrol Cruisers!"
[] "Thin the Fighters!"
[] "We're gonna ram this sonuvabitch right into the Death Star!
"Then head back to the ships! We're out!"
