There was a shift in the air, in the emotions of the room, and among their enemy. While it was no battle meditation, something had caused a resurgence in the morale of their enemy. A change in the tactical situation. Then he spotted it. A pair of crimson blades approaching from the darkness of the halls ahead. A pair of Sith, along with enemy reinforcements. It seemed they intended to make their stand in this room.
One of the Sith opponents, a Togrutan male, his skin was pale white with red markings, approached Kalt's position. They wielded a standard lightsaber and took the Shii-Cho stance, their lightsaber raised above their head, ready to strike. As they approached, they slew at least three loyalist troopers, cutting through them like a river flows through water, the troopers never even able to retrieve their own blades, as useless as it would have been for them. Kalt informed the troops around him to back away, rising to a confident standing position, his lightsaber in his right hand; low and to the side.
The two Sith struck at each other simultaneously, the Togruta with an overhead strike, Kalt raising his blade to meet him. The two blades met and quickly deflected from one another, each fighter moving to position their blades. Kalt went on the defense, intercepting a low attack to his left, and a twice repeated attack to his middle right. The third strike being met with a bind, allowing Kalt to nearly disarm his attacker, only for him to back away just in time.
"I won't make the same mistake twice" His opponent said with murderous intent, as the two circled each other. Kalt said nothing, instead a mischievous grin on his face.
This time he was the first to attack, going in for a low feint to his opponent's right, and shifting into a low strike to his left, his opponent smoothly transitioning and intercepting the blow. However, Kalt pressed the bind again, going in for the same disarming move. This time, however, the Togruta was ready using the force to enhance his strength overcome Kalt's bind. Taking advantage of Kalt's apparent lack of footing, he closed in with a fatal blow, a stab to the torso. The killer smiled as he watched the shift in Kalt's expression. The revelation of his fate and death now coming onto the young Devaronian's face.
"This is why the Empire falters. Why it is weak. You were too easy, as will be the rest of your friends." The killer pressed the blade in further, watching as Kalt's final moments of life faded. The Togruta smiled in glee as he reveled in his opponent's death... only to realize that something was wrong.
In the next moment a dark blade with a crimson glow pierced his own torso from behind. An insidious and maddening laughter emerged behind him.
"I really got you didn't I?" The voice said behind the Togrutan Sith, as he watched the Devaronian before him turn to mist and dissipate before him, an illusion.
"What was that about being weak?" He said with a mischevious chuckle as he pulled the blade out through the side of his torso, swinging it up and around to decapitate the Togruta. Pieces of their horns crashing to the floor alongside his head. Now Kalt was the one who reveled in death. He turned to the enemy, who watched in renewed horror, Kalt's smile widening in anticipation of the horrors he'd continue to inflict.
