hesitation is defeat
Remarkably efficient, The Chiss Ishida’d been alongside rallied and separated the instant the danger klaxons sounded. The Defense Force of The Alliance followed the direction of those native to Kinoss. By the time the opposing shuttles had landed, and the chants had begun, they’d organized into squadrons and companies enough to contest the attackers. Starting with those half-naked ones.
<You’re sure you don’t want one of these?>
Instead of denying the generosity of the trooper for the second time, Ishida shook her head no and curled her lips back in a display of disgust. The one-of-these in question was a blaster the size of her thigh and part of her shin. Clunky, heavy and hardly as effective as she could be with her melee options. Although, they were doing a good enough job keeping the wild and expendable onslaught somewhat dissuaded from their advances; she could at least give them that. The plasmafire exchange was as brilliant as it was uncivilized.
And it worked as excellent cover for her to dive right into, brandishing the glowing white of her lightsaber and the strength of her steel through mindless corpses. It was chaotic. Between bites of metal, flesh, bone, deflecting stray blaster bolts, Ishida was effectively a carving tool through a swathe of countless bodies. It was helpless to see if she was doing any good, based on the sheer numbers of The Maw’s minions, but there was no time for her to do math amidst the violence –– so long as the graves marked with the Starbird remained less than the piles of Mawites that burned.
A mix of telekinetic blasts to push the numbers back, and sheer bladework was all she knew; giving herself into The Force’s protection that kept her in a delicate serenity focused on the balance between slaughter and survival.
"I don't think we'll be alone for long."
<You’re alone?> Ishida repeated in disbelief, surprised to hear anything above the constant chatter of orders being exchanged from those closer-by.
The comms had been convenient once Ishida’d been properly introduced to them. For all the deployments alongside Alliance forces, she’d been teamed up exclusively with Jedi. But the reactive nature of responding to a surprise attack meant her ability to choose her partners was eradicated but meant the device she’d been equipped with was pretty well overconnected. By no fault of her own she just..didn’t really know how to turn it off. Same sort of problem as not necessarily knowing how to speak to a pilot in an X-Wing helmet without knocking first.
Blame Hebo.
<Are we on the same planet right now?>
She hadn’t even realized the first two waves had ended and upgraded. The Alliance had managed to hold their own long enough for the tactics to adjust, and the Maw traded flesh for machines.
Instinct kicked in, and she whirled around just as the pointed end of a lance was about to make purchase on her position. In an instant, she was airborne, fast-moving feet balanced on the pointed end of the javelin and running down the length of it into the machine it was attached to. She went in feet-first, shoving her heel into the jaw of the passenger and blade-end of her sabre to skewer the driver’s countenance. With the slack in resistance, she dropped into the front seat with another twist and adjustment to take a more fatal swipe at the front-seat passenger before using the momentum collected to sling herself into the backseat and take care of the would-be gunner.
Seconds, minutes, however long it had been was meaningless. It was only worth measuring stamina remaining. Ishida felt the first tremour of fatigue roll through her body, and she twisted to peek over the edge of the heap of metal that had stopped dead in its tracks, starting to roll backward and away from the breach. There, amidst the corpses of marauders, Ishida was afforded a few seconds for precious observation.
More were coming.
More. More to their numbers. Thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty.
By the time Ishida had finished counting, the tens of soldiers were pounding the ground with the ends of their weapons. The display was so primal, so lodditish, that she felt as though she were transported back to the stories told in school. But instead of lines of legendary swordsmen, they were mutilated creatures of darkness.
She needed time to draw on the Light against this much darkness. To create something strong enough, beyond her swords, to counter all this evil.
"In return, you don't need to feign strength and bravery when you need help in the future either. Deal?"
Frustration with her agreement buzzed at the back of her throat and she hummed a note to herself of hesitation. Hesitation is defeat.
Okay, maybe she’d subtly ask.
<Because Alone is..> pant <Definitely not the word I’d use.>
ALLIES | GA | NJO | Bernard | Xian Cade | Jeffery Kizaroe
FOES | BOTM | The Mongrel | Maestus