Showdown on Korriban: Wookiee and Wordplay
Posted on Thu Sep 5th, 2019 @ 8:48pm by Mange & Bomoor Thort & Rynseh Lahan
3,929 words; about a 20 minute read
Chapter:
Chapter V: Unbound
Location: Red Raptor Landing Site, Valley of the Dark Lords, Korriban
Timeline: Showdown on Korriban, Day 4
OLD
The crew of the now destroyed Janna found themselves joined by the younger blue Nautolan, facing down Axion's favourite pupil Nala and the pyromaniac of the cult, Tomlin Voq. The third cultist was a Rodian and not known to Mentis but the lack of a lightsaber and the empty look in his large glassy eyes told him he was not destined to be much more than a pawn within the cult.
Mentis had not seen Nala since the night he had killed Trey and fled from the cult. A part of him wanted to appeal to her, but the way she looked at him now with that self-assured smirk told him that he was just another victim to her now. He felt the rising fear and trepidation that came from facing those who he had seen in combat time and time again. Now he had so much more to lose; newfound allies and friends. It was a new feeling, but also a quiet strength knowing he must fight for more than just his own life or for the glory of something he no longer believed in.
He allowed that fear to become his power. He stepped forward.
NEW
OOC: Music for the fight: Facing the Madclaw
The momentum of the Wookiee's furious charge increased with each thundering lurch towards his quarry: Bomoor and the Jedi Master, Rynseh Lahan. The beast continued to howl manically as he closed the gap between him and his two opponents, his thick white fur, stark against the grim and dark environment surrounding them all, sodden by the falling rain. Although there was no outward display of the Wookiee's Dark Jedi affiliation or tutelage, the dark side, brutal and animalistic, dripped from every fibre of the monster's being; the Force, such as it was, was with him.
The first lumbering charge was not hard to anticipate and Bomoor sidestepped with his usual Force-aided agility. However, the Wookiee spread his arms wide at just the right moment to deflect a parring blow from the Ithorian. It was surprisingly fast and Bomoor found himself less prepared for the next charge to which he had no time to sidestep, taking the full force of the charging mammalian humanoid against his lightsaber. The Wookiee's twin knuckle weapons were able to resist the lightsaber plasma and Bomoor found himself staring right into the bloodthirsty eyes of the Kashyyyk-born killer.
The former-Consular grunted with great exertion, finding even the additional leverage of the Force insufficient to shift his opponent.
A heavy, overhead strike suddenly came down on the white Wookiee’s right flank. "You picked the wrong side to owe a life-debt, Wookiee," Rynseh said as he brought his blade to bear against the stark white beast.
With this new second opponent swinging focused plasma against him, he let out another enraged roar and grabbed the Jedi Master's wrist, clenching it tightly and swinging him past, out of reach of his blade. Having created a gap between them, Mange twisted the two wrist-blades, as they had at first appeared to his two opponents, and two blood-red crimson blades sprung to life with a menacing hum, deeper than the usual thrum of a lightsaber.
Without giving Rynseh a moment to recover from the Wookiee's previous thrust, the gargantuan dark warrior became a red spinning whirlwind. With surprisingly alacrity, the cultist was darting through the air at the Cathar, swinging one blade and then the next onto the Jedi, the Force empowering each brutish smash with more weight than was natural even for a Wookiee of Mange's size.
Disengaging from the now distracted Wookiee, Bomoor summoned a burst of energy to launch himself over the beast, landing behind him and launching into a series of fast strikes in the Ataru form, forcing him to face both opponents at once. Bomoor was at his best with Ataru with another ally as the opponent would find it harder to catch all the blows while otherwise occupied. Ever surprising, however, was the hulking cultist’s capacity to block the strikes with one weapon, while still holding off Rynseh on his other side.
“Thurius taught you well,” Ryn commented at Bomoor as he engaged the dark side Wookiee with a fluid Djem So sequence of blinding fast high swings and mid-level parries, taking the pressure off the Ithorian ex-Jedi. “You have his skill, but you must temper it with serenity. Remember the Code!”
“I have not forgotten a word of the Code!” Bomoor replied gruffly, now feeling like they were wearing down the beast as a pair, “But I feel there is always room for improvement. I have found the Jedi know far from everything.”
A sudden kick straight into Bomoor's torso halted the conversation from moving any further forward, the Forceful assault throwing the Ithorian back several feet into the dirt. With one opponent neutralised, at least for the moment for Mange, his mad glowing-pink eyes locked onto Rynseh. Before he lurched, he could be felt to summon the Force deeply within himself in a manner so starkly different from any Jedi Rynseh had encountered before; rather than calling upon the Force purposely in any meaningful way, the monster instead dragged it within him, like a grotesque natural instinct to dominate the Force around him. More than a show of any sort of talent, it portrayed itself as an abomination.
Before the Jedi Master could make any move, the Wookiee then released a huge howl, carried and magnified by the Force, a mockery of Bomoor's own Force bellow. Alongside the unnatural storm, it was deafening, and could be felt within all those near enough to hear it. With the confusion and pain it brought, Mange launched towards Ryn, both blades raised high to cut through the centre of the Cathar. Where the Jedi Master and Bomoor had both developed their forms of combat through years of tutelage, Mange was like a wild beast, his innate murderous instincts and affinity for the darkness directing his blades - wielded as they were like cleavers - at his victims.
Rynseh glanced at the downed Ithorian, a twinkle of concern flashed in his bright green eyes. He quickly turned his steely gaze up upon the twin red shafts of lethal energy bearing down on him. He had the opportunity to sidestep the dual chop, but he instead boldly met the heavy strike with a direct block held horizontally above his head. Mange's swords came down like an avalanche, raw Wookie strength from corded muscles and hardened sinew backed by the unrepentant power of the dark side of the Force. The impact sent a wave of crushing power down Ryn's spine, and jarred and rattled every fiber of his being. Only the Force kept his bones from fracturing under the weight of the impact. It was such an uncanny pulse of kinetic havoc he hadn't felt in a long time; not since the terrible day the Reborn Order crossed blades with those who later called themselves the Rift Jedi.
Rather than Mange pulling back from the block to attempt a different angle of attack, Rynseh braced himself further as the Wookiee kept pressing down harder, not letting up from the locking of blades. Ryn was inwardly impressed by the Wookiee's uncompromising commitment to his attack, and as such started to inspire the barest hint of fear in Ryn's heart that he hadn't allowed himself to entertain since being burned alive on Balmorra. He closed his eyes under the intermix of sparking blue and red light, and attempted to re-center himself in the Force.
"Peace shall overcome...emotion..." Rynseh recited the Jedi Code to himself as he held his ground, his five-decade old knee joints buckling under the pressure. "Knowledge shall...conquer...ignorance...nggghh..." He was growling low, struggling to maintain footing as Mange's montrously superior strength was about to overcome the powerful Cathar's own peak fitness might.
Across the dusty battlefield, not far from the edge of the chasm the Raptor had set down beside, Bomoor stirred and propped his head up to see the slow descent of Mange’s blades towards the Cathar Jedi. The suspicious Master Rynseh seemed certain to fall to this attack without assistance, but the thought crossed the Ithorian’s mind that the death of this particular Jedi would not concern him as it once would have.
From where he lay, he could see the rest of the combat further away: Mentis and Amare crossing blades with Nala, Rex and his Jawa companion in a shootout against a cybernetic Devaronian and, furthest in the distance, the storm-wielding sorcerer casting bolts down on Thane and Zennarrah as they ascended towards him. Why should he save Rynseh when he could aid so many more deserving of his support?
Arising further, Bomoor felt the damage the Wookiee’s blow had done. Much like his own blow on Mentis on Jericho, the force to his chest had broken several ribs and, additionally, the slide across the stony ground had scraped his underside, leaving the exposed front of his trunk bleeding and the rest of his lower side torn and scraped; another of his comfortable synfleece travelling outfits ruined. He could not press on without revitalising himself through the Force.
However, when he came to perform the practised technique, he found it harder. He wold usually call on an inner peace to coax his injured tissues to heal and re-energise but all he could think about now was how he distrusted this Jedi and how he was angered at having been tossed aside by this brutish cultist. He had to dig deeper and return to his core ethics: the preservation of life and the defence of those he cared for. Perhaps Rynseh did not deserve his help but he did not deserve to die this day.
Tightening his grip around the grips of his hilt, Bomoor ignited his lightsaber again and, feeling that familiar surge of energy that had kept him fighting so many times before, he leapt into action once again and came down upon the Wookiee’s right side, aiming for a Cho Mok strike to sever one of the beast’s fighting arms.
Once again, however, the cultist was ready for him and his weapon swept around in time to catch the blow. While not successful in disarming his opponent, Bomoor had successfully saved Rynseh, as the hairless Cathar was now able to hold back the one lightsaber still upon him, so that it was now the Wookiee that was defensively holding back two blades bearing down upon him.
It was very quickly clear that the monster's talents with the lightsaber were instinctive and offensive; with both opponents now bearing down upon him, with Bomoor having taken him by surprise with his sudden return to the foray, he was taking several lumbering steps backwards, smashing his blade futilely against the increasingly-heavy blows of his buoyed opponents.
Again, the Wookiee roared, a deafening below-screech rumbling out from his huge thick-maned chest. Whilst the two combatants bearing down on him were not so easily subverted by the cultist's trick this time, his primal roar was met by by several separate high-pitched animalistic screams, loud enough to be carried through the nearby chasm and over the din of the chaotic storm overhead.
In what appeared to almost be a Wookiee grin - a disgusting, malformed expression upon the bloodstained lips of the dual-wielding beast - the cultist whacked heavily with both blades against Rynseh, knocking him a couple of feet back as Bomoor brought his viridian blade to bear across the Wookiee's midriff. Quicker than the Ithorian, the dark-sider ducked down onto one knee and twisted his abdomen towards Bomoor, his left hand tightening his grip on his saw-blade lightsaber hilt as he thrust its rough-cut jagged edges into Bomoor's right leg, blood immediately pooling about the rusted metal. In the same motion, the Wookiee pulled the hilt out and swung his head up and backwards, smashing it with his full force into the bottom of Bomoor's trunk, sending him tumbling off-balance.
Triumphant, the Wookiee raised both of his lightsabers above his head and howled. Lightning crackled in the sky overhead, lighting up the steep chasm edge the cultist was just metres ahead of - as well as the various squat reptilian forms that were now scurrying over that very same edge, small red eyes glinting and glowing in the unnatural darkness of the cult's Force storm. As the half-dozen elongated lizards brought themselves onto the plateau of the showdown, they seemed to gather about the Wookiee with intent, as if there were some intrinsic link between them and the bestial Dark Jedi, awaiting instructions.
It had been a long time since Rynseh last encountered one of the large reptiles, but he had come to know them as hssiss. The last time, there was only one that had been in the possession of a business tycoon who collected dark side relics. Now he had to face several, and seemingly under the command of a Wookiee with beast mastery powers.
The Force can be so uncivilized at times, the middle-aged Jedi thought while shaking his head, unimpressed with Mange's salivating pets.
The realisation, of course, was too late, as the cultist brought both blades down from their high position, a tip pointed at either adversary. As expected, the hssiss screeched once more, almost perfectly in time with the tipping of the Wookiee's sabers, and began twisting and turning, advancing rapidly upon their Jedi prey, almost in the same manic and murderous manner as their new Wookiee overlord.
Three of the hssiss attempted to surround Rynseh as the Cathar had enough and brought his lightsaber close up to his chest as he closed his eyes, luring them to approach. Just as the big lizards reared up to lunge and bite their prey to the bone, Ryn's eyes snapped open, his right fist flush with concentrated telekinetic power as he leaped straight up into the air and quickly came back down with a thrust of his energized fist into the hard dry ground. The impact was such that it drove a small, earth-cracking crater under Ryn's fist, and generated a thunderous shockwave that sent the hssiss flying, two of which fell into the ravine.
He then immediately hurled himself with a lunging saber strike at the head of one of the big critters attempting to take advantage of Bomoor's precarious situation, standing in defense of the wounded Ithorian. "Are you well enough to battle on, my friend?" he asked Bomoor with genuine concern. He could sense the former knight's weariness of him, but feelings had no place on a battlefield. They were two professionals on one side of a conflict fighting an opposing force. They simply had to accept either surviving together, or dying alone. In war, there was no other way.
Finding himself once again bested by the bestial cultist and upon the ground, Bomoor felt the cold rain of the Force storm beating down upon him. From where he had dropped down, his arm wearily holding him a few inches from the now-muddy earth, he saw how their fight had now moved them all much closer to the edge of the chasm. While the Wookiee was watching his new reptilian army emerging from the hillside, he seemed less aware of his own perilous position on the battlefield.
“I will not last another round of duelling,” Bomoor answered before hushing his voice well below its normal level and carefully projecting his words to the Cathar Master, “But if you can keep that monstrous Wookiee where he is, I think I could aid in pushing him over the edge there.”
Ryn offered a curt nod of understanding, and the slightest hint of a smirk right before narrowly sidestepping a hssiss bite that would have permanently relived him of his right leg. He felt impressed by the Ithorian's strategic thinking as he performed a short evasive leap, twisted his body in midair, and countered the beast directly into the cranium with a hard downward thrust of his gleaming blue lightsaber.
Once the closest of the hssiss were dispatched, Ryn's glare was harsh and scowling at Mange as he marched fearlessly with bitter intent towards the hulking cultist, both hands reaching out to the sides.
"Enough of this, cultist!" Ryn said firmly. "Surrender, or face justice here and now."
His power swiftly drew up multitudes of sharp pebbles and small loose rocks from the earth behind and at his sides, and then thrust his hand at Mange's direction, viciously pelting his massive salvo of natural debris at the Wookiee.
Bomoor was impressed at the technique; the Cathar had a focus in his Force technique as well as his blade that blended some of the best qualities of both Masters Thurius and Sotah, even if his personality was far less appealing to the Ithorian. The barrage of pebbles and stones effectively pinned their foe to the spot, even though he did not have trouble defending himself from the onslaught where he stood.
The hissing from the hulking reptiles grew stronger and Bomoor realised that several of the remaining ones were eyeing him up as easy prey, still laying on the floor. He would not be bested so easily by these tainted beasts. He remembered his time being held by the Vaa-Thalda and how he had cast a terrible lightning blast upon them. While he could not summon those feelings now, he reached out and cast a couple of the beasts aside, throwing them far enough to put them off approaching him so carelessly again.
Having granted himself a moment to get up, Bomoor arose and limped slowly to Rynseh’s side. While hoping the gesture would not be misinterpreted, he placed an arm against the older man to steady himself as he summoned up his power for their next move.
The hailstorm continued to lash at the Wookie, small nicks and cuts making it past the massive living terror, streaks of blood staining his white fur further complimenting his appearance of ferocity. But the barrage started to let up as Bomoor leaned on his new ally.
Master Rynseh and Bomoor locked gazes for a moment, an understanding passing between them. The barrage of stones suddenly ceased and, within a fraction of a second, the allied Force-users threw out their arms together, shoving the great hulk of their enemy at the weakest moment they could find. Their combined Force power was incredibly strong, both men clearly confident in their abilities and their focus in this moment.
His raging manic mind distracted, having been indulgently huffing in amusement at the the pain he had wrought upon his foes and the failure of Rynseh's pebbles to hurt him just moments before (even if it left him unable to move), the sudden and combined blast of Force energy from the Consular-Guardian duo flung Mange backwards, as if some great industrial crane had swept the beast off his thick feet.
Mange roared as he scrabbled madly in the air, matted fur and thick limbs spinning as he vainly sought for some purchase on any nearby crags, his claws narrowly missing, scraping and dislodging various chunks of Korriban stone, until his dirty white form finally slipped away from sight over the edge. His furious defeated yelping became fainter with each passing second, a sick, high-pitched sound quite unlike his earlier screams of fury that echoed up from the depths of the chasm, until they finally faded away into the din of the Force storm overhead.
Each of the remaining hssiss, as soon as their Wookiee master had been felled, sharply raised their heads and glared wide-eyed at the empty space Mange had just occupied, shocked, the domination of their semi-sentient minds broken. Immediately breaking off their attack with a few reptilian hisses and spits, they thrust themselves away from the two Force users on their powerful squat legs and scurried quickly away, speeding themselves down the edge of the ravine from whence they came.
With great exhaustion and the reality of his wounds catching up to hm, Bomoor slumped down, unable to continue drawing on the Force to keep him going. He released his grip on Rynseh for support and simply lay panting on the damp ground.
Up the hillside, where Thane had been battling the storm-casting sorcerer, came a great crash of lightning and thunder and Bomoor grabbed his chest as a searing wave of heat and agony swept through him.
“Thane!” shouted Bomoor, wrenching out another arm in the direction of his friend, before finding himself losing consciousness from the exertion.
Quietly, Rynseh knelt by Bomoor's side and gently laid a hand on his hump, and the other on his chest. The Cathar closed his eyes and began to use his knowledge of crucitorn, the Jedi power that could alter the feeling of pain in the self and in others. For Bomoor, he sought to trick the Ithorian's mind into ignoring most, if not all the pain that was clearly wracking his body. It wasn't a healing solution, but it was a start.
"Stay with me, son," Rynseh said gently to him, as if like a father to his ailing child. It wasn't the first time he provided aid to the wounded and said those words to dying young men on the battlefield, and he suspected it wasn't going to be the last.
Like a great beacon of light in the dark, the lights of the Red Raptor sprung to life and the engines whirred and revved as they prepared for a launch sequence.
"Let's get you back on your feet," Ryn said to Bomoor, preparing to carry Bomoor to the ship if necessary. "You can do it. One little Wookie isn't going to take you down that easy." He glanced up in time to see Zenarrah nearby angrily clashing with Nala, and saw the younger Nautolan, Zaracoda, off to the side, prone, and unconscious with Thane's broken lightsaber and a twinkling amber Dantooine saber crystal next to her. Ryn frowned as he could sense the evil influence of Korriban flooding uncontrollably through Zen as she willingly tapped into the power to protect her only child. The wild and highly aggressive technique she was using was also deeply troubling to Ryn: Juyo. He was afraid Zen's attachments would have a corrupting effect on her once mother reunited with daughter. He hated when his fears became reality. Rather than allow himself to be further distracted by checking on Thane's status, he instead turned back to Bomoor, refocusing on the immediate objective in front of him. "Time to go, mister," he said as he helped the ex-Jedi up.
Woozy and fatigued, the former Jedi felt some comfort in the strong figure who was easing his pain and, for a moment, it seemed like he was back in a simpler time, when Jedi Masters were kindly paternal figures and not the taskmasters of a corrupt organisation, "Thank you, Master..." he wheezed.
The pair limped towards the ship, with even the strong Rynseh finding the weight of an adult Ithorian hard to support. As they put some distance between them and the great cavern, a muffled howl echoed from the depths behind them. If either of them heard it, they knew there was no sense in turning back now; they could only push forward.
TBC
BOMOOR
▬ Revitalise Increase
RSS Feed