LET'S GO HUNTING
DEEP PLAINS COUNTRY ☛ NABOO
Vizion gave Kahne a small tip of his head when the Master looked over, acknowledging his idea. It was good to work together like this, when he had so often spent much of his time independently, a thing that was now going to change.
"They can come to us-"
And so too were the creatures’ movements, when they picked up incredible speed and charged towards this small group of Jedi, prompting the Sentinel Knight to pluck both hilts from his person and but no set them alight with a thumbing of each ignition switch, while the elder Jedi went ahead and opened the offensive with an act of force that unbalanced the oncoming denizens of the Nether down the middle of their formation.
All the while, Vizion hung back and observed with a number of his senses, taking into account the sequence of events as they unfolded after that initial assault, watching for any instance that might require his particular inputs, or if a creature came squarely for
him: the arrival of Lossa Aureus joining the battle on one flank in a timely follow-up to Kahne’s Force-born wave, and the creatures quickly adjusting to these attacks, showing their probable sentience that was backed by one larger unit appearing to control the movements of its subordinates… something the creatures back in the city didn’t seem to have.
Just as many questions came alive in his mind as Briana's, but there would be time enough to ruminate on those, later on, as some of the creatures were now splitting into a different formation. He peered at this shift in the battle, but he was not the only one to realise the meaning of this shift.
"They're trying to box us in," Briana informed; similar words were on the tip of his own tongue, but she beat him to the punch, prompting a faint nod of appreciation.
"They're intelligent," Joro replied. Short and to the point.
Slowly, he was coming to understand the kind of Jedi and
woman she had become. She was so much of what he was not, more of a strength on the field of battle than he would ever be. He was many things, had several talents, but he was no specialist of combat; there could be many names for what he did, but all that meant was that he
had to work smarter, and if he wasn’t working alone, that usually meant supporting others and deferring to them in their efforts.
Sometimes that was little more than the insurance of his presence, the closest thing to a living sensor suite at times. Other times, he joined or commanded the offensive, working in tandem with one Guardian or another, but then Isaiah entered the fray tailing b Lossa, and bringing along reinforcements that gave them more of an advantage than the initial four of them had, alone.
"Huh, looks like Lossa made some friends,” she noted, her tone carrying a light humour that brought out a faint half a smile from him,
"Joro, with me! Don't let them regroup!"
His friend - the half-Corellian Knight - and the Falleen padawan at her side joined in on the action, and between them cut down a modest handful of the creatures. Between the efforts of the five of them, he could almost be tempted to return the hilts to his belt… but with many of the creatures contending with now being surrounded, it left something of an opening. Vizion peered between them, trying to regain a bead on the big one, the head that stood above the rest.
“
There you are...”
Power coiled in his legs and he set off at a sprint that had traveled countless terrains across numerous worlds, adjusting to the shifting mix of muddy ground and semi-solid earth, an ease born of the art of pursuit: not much got past him, escaped him, or hampered him, he had such deft footwork and cognition. Once he came near the creatures down the middle of the struggling formation, the Brentaalan leapt, ignited each of his hilts with an a dual snap-hiss, and displayed more of that deft agility as he used the heads of the creatures between him and the command unit as mere
stepping stones, while rain sizzled off of his blades of orange plasma, joining the concert of noise around him. Too fast to get a grasp of, like the wind.
Viz leapt once again with a force that sent the last creature he stepped on tumbling, thereafter twisting and positioning himself to land behind the large Nethercreature, in a spray of mud and dissipating thirds of the gruesome
thing, blades emerging from their slice through
it as his boots smucked into the soft ground.
This, of course, sent the remaining creatures into frenzied disarray.
"That confirms that," he uttered to himself,
"head of the snake."