2ND POST
OLD-TOWN DISTRICT, DRASTARRA,
BATTLEFRONT: EAST, NESHTAB (SPRING 878 ABY)
Even the pain seems trivial here.
A beauty in the calmness of the world itself.
And despite the booms and explosions in the distance, Lord Michael was utterly infatuated with it.
Trapped in it's embrace.
As if that pleasing calm this world hides away is the healer.
Like the stillness itself is washing all the aches an' strains away.
But with his Songsteel wonder firmly in his grasp, and with the tassle-rope wrapped around his wrist with a firmly-gripping bond, Barran would remain under the impression there was nothing to worry about; the threat was known to be in the city's vicinity, though as for whether the Druid remembered was another concern entirely, as none were wise to dream whilst the greatest of challenges neared with every poised, baited step. The snow hid much, though much more than Lord Michael was able to consider at the time, and though he should have been far less comfortable under the circumstances, the Wanderer's ability to adapt to situations as they developed was still a thing of wonder to behold, though this was no mere situation to overcome.
But it did mean that his awestruck haze would come to an abrupt end, and all too soon for Barran's liking.
However, such was the way of the Galactic hero, and such was the way of Michael Barran and Ishida Ashina, and with equally (though rivalling) powerful driving motivations; it was never easy for the greats to step out and fight against the odds, especially in knowing they would do so every time, but the immediate reaction and according stands to face each threat were telling enough of the sort of duellists who would be clashing that night. For none ever wanted to risk going above and beyond until it dawned on them as the right thing to do, setting to the impossible with nought but fear and disapproval to the end, but for the two converging powers - this was never a factor in their mutual urge to achieve the impossible.
Barran was still shadow-striking at the time though, trapped in the wonder of the world around him, and at a time when it was most dangerous for the Wanderer to be trapped in such a haze, and especially with the approaching threat having already utilised stealth to retain the element of surprise. An interesting development, and for as long as the Druid remained oblivious to the other bootprints in the snow, and completely unaware of the fact a supremely-powerful presence was approaching closer behind with otherworldly hunter's instinct, a perilous precipice so particular it seemed that only Barran's ilk could ever mindlessly stray towards it's edge. A horror scenario for most, and perhaps even for the Woad himself, for none could truly prepare for threats such as those wielded by certain Atrisian Jedi knights, and certainly not as far as Ashina was considered.
Though in Lord Michael's recurring knack for laughing in the face of convention, the lack of preparation often worked in favour of his ability to adapt to his opponents' fighting styles, and in finding amplification in mild-familiarity with Atrisian sword-fighting techniques already, there was every chance the wild-hearted Imperial would at least make the fight interesting for his Jedi opponent as the clash progressed. Though there would be much in other matters to adapt to in the fight's duration, matters of which that would serve as punishment for pushing himself too far on Concordia, such that the Druid would find himself explaining before long.
CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaang!!!!
And before Lord Michael could finish slashing his intended, inanimate target, his opponent's Katana had deftly intercepted his Cavalry-Sabre in it's targeted vault towards the last intended snowdrop.
'How did you know I was here?'
The ringing in his ears had been a discomfort to ear-drums and eyeballs alike, but despite the searing pain it lent to his migraine momentarily, there were no consequent confusions as to how much the surprise had awoken the Wanderer within; and as the Woad's eyes met with those of his Atrisian opponent, something else awakened surging from within, the light of revelation itself. Completely unaware the Katana that blocked the Cavalry-Sabre's path was the very same blade that near-lethally kissed his brother's throat, the realisation he knew the face would take obvious precedence as Barran quietly responded,
'Esoteric practitioners of my sort, rare though we are in the Empire - we learn such methods through the pain.... Pain of the likes I recover from now, though fight I most-certainly will - on Neshtab of all places.', holding in the balance of power as the most vicious segments of both blades pressed up against each other.
'But enough o' that, I recognise your face, your hair somehow.... Wait a minute, you were there the day Willan Tal declared victory on Galidraan I.... You were there for the parade - small Galaxy, so it is.'
Yielding the pressure to Ishida in his backpedalling escape, a sly, diverting shunt from blade to blade opened the way further to stop any countering momentum from advancing in response, and Michael needed that space and time alike to set proper poise for the real fight ahead. After all, it took more than the average warrior to get the jump on the Woad in such a fashion, and the Atrisian had just done so effortlessly, Barran's fault for muddying his mind with telepathic exertions and painkiller-stims, but also completely unavoidable for the sheer weight of proficiency that he was matched up against. After all, this was no mere Jedi Knight, this was one of the greatest living Masters of the Light; choosing a scabbard-drawn sword, and in keeping to the alignment in conflict with the choices of the former Imperial Knight-Commander, had also chosen the traditional blade subconsciously.
Whatever was on the verge of transpiring over the course of the duel, it would become quite obvious how much both elements needed this fight, obscure though it always had been before that night; and whether the end result was to live or to die, or to live to fight each other again someday, it mattered little and less to the opposing swords by then, for everything that a duellist would wish to learn from a fight would be learned long before the sun rose again the next day. Still ignorant of the fact everything about their encounter would prove revelatory, starting from it's dark, snowy commencement to end on a bright, eye-shielding conclusion, neither Barran nor Ashina could possibly know that if either or both were somehow able to remain standing by the morning, then all the rewards of knowledge and wisdom would be stored where it mattered forevermore.
'You were observing the parade with Lady Aiko, the CEO of Hayata Corp. Watching my father lead the procession.... Its a damn shame I never got to learn who accompanied Hayata that day, though perhaps you could kindly put me out of my misery? I'm sorry but you're much too familiar now, otherwise I would've just given you a nickname and gotten on with it.'
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'Well, well, well.... It would appear Battlefront: West gets the action first.'
McBain's hand-picked contingent of Brotherhood troops were all watching the horizons around them, consisting chiefly of Highland-born operators, though there was a noticeable amount of Novanian-born Arkanians among them, all standing as the most effective oath-sworn warriors from Firedance Battalion. To make matters easier was the fact that both the Goidels and the Novanian infantry elements bore noticeable contrasts in more than just their offensive methodologies, yet despite the differences, the Arkanians' improvements were noteworthy enough to complement the tactics of their respective counterparts, proving inadvertently that their Priest-King had been paying close attention to the Druid's advices after all.
'Yeah, its meant to be the Ice-Caves, or at least as far as the intel goes.... Clips from the Sabretooths' briefing helped. Still though, we've got intel of our own to pass along.'
Briefly turning his eyes away from his scope, the gruff-voiced Captain queried
,'Reservoirs, is it?', receiving an emphatic nod in reply to the curiosity. Then after returning his gaze to the western horizon, the Gallowglass pondered,
'Fair enough, Varim. Though with that being ascertained, are yer countrymen making any plans for that, or....?', waiting for an answer in the inability to turn around and catch the Novanian's gaze, though the Highlander would soon be relieved to find he wouldn't be kept waiting for long. The handpicking of three hundred of the Brotherhoods best subordinate operators, difficult though it would have been for the Goidelic nobles of Serenno, (with Barran including Thrast, Sinclair, Scott and even the Priest-King himself in the selection process) had proven a safe and easy choice as far as Varim Ahan-Kaskim was concerned, and would for as long as fate allowed him to live.
'Plans were already made - to avoid the waterways as if they were carriers of the damned Gulag plague! And besides, we have bigger fish to fry up here, wouldn't you say?'
Then after barely even a moment of silence between them, a deep-thudding explosion reverberating in the distance illustrated the Novanian's point, causing both officers manning the bell-tower to chuckle for a while before the Highlander finally responded,
'Fair play, Varim. You'll get nae arguments f'me on the matter anyway.... Though I'm starting to believe three-hundred isn't enough to make a big difference here, but with that bein' said - its not like we're expected to achieve all that much out here either. "Surprise element from observational starting-points", an' all that textbook caper, but still-', trailing off in satisfaction that his confession had been explained enough to be understood. Randall wasn't the only one who felt the creeping threat from the west by then, as it seemed all too present in the weeks leading to the main engagement on that night of nights, especially when the GADF bombs began to rain an unforgettable fire from above.
'I understand.... Ahan-Miyadar is lucky to be alive, as we all are. But still, I doubt I will ever look at civilian bunkers with disdain after that, miracles are these and I will not take them for granted. Not now, and whilst I continue to linger on that matter - neither will our resident amputee.'
It was difficult enough to deal with the last GADF-directed barrages before the storm, even worse that their corner of the Old Town was to be held aggressively, but quietly and without compromising their cover in the effort, turning the stomachs of Serenno's chosen as they were constantly reminded not to move and bury the corpses of the comrades who had fallen in the days before their arrival. All they could do was mark the walls and fences the dead were heaped up against, working with curses underbreath for the seemingly-pointless cautions of booby-trapped Sabretooths and passive necrotic-diseases, as their honour as Goidels and Novanians alike were struggling with the voices of reason within, begging every last one of them to do the right thing - and to each a man wishing to grant at least a little peace for those who had given their lives in the attempt to turn the tide.
'The Undercity's a no-go, the Ice Caves are likely a no-go as well, same for the Maurus Spaceport an' the Burus-Western paddocks alike. So in other words - its not looking very hopeful out here, br'er.... Starting to get Carlac flashbacks, an' thats never a gidd sign.'
Receiving chuckles that seemed to sound like an air of disdain was ringing beneath the surface, Randall shook his head in mild dismay, clueless as to how determined Varim really was until the Novanian eventually responded,
'Yeah, if you don't mind - I think I'll be the judge on matters of hope now. No offence.... So stifle your skittishness, we both know it goes against your reputation. After all, great warriors never succumb to matters beyond their control.', leaving it at that as he reached into his coat-pocket for a cigarra-pack, letting the matter stew a little more in the Highlander's mind as he lit two and passed one to McBain. An indicator of resolve, but also an indicator of how far the Arkanian was willing to go to keep his favoured human alive, the severe lengths he was willing to leap in order to keep his good friend in the fight, though both knew the fight could go either way in the following hours.
'And our Gallowglass is no exception to this.'