III: STEEL AND BONE
TEAM SKYWALKER
Location: The Bunghole
Attire: Standard
Loadout: The Harbinger, Lightsaber
Primary Adversary:
Rannan Kol
Additional Tags:
Ignatius Rausgeber
,
The Mongrel
Ally Tags: Open
Their sabers met with a sharp strike as they engaged each other outside the hull of the Bunghole, Both of them placing greater pressure towards the other, forcing them to start to drift apart again. Traden quickly looped his foot through some exposed cabling to keep from drifting away, then reached out with his free hand to pull the Acolyte back towards him with the force. The Acolyte attempted to strike Traden again, met quickly with his own blade.
Suddenly, Traden's mind became aware of another unwanted intruder… however unlike the foe in front of him, this intruder was inside his own mind, prying itself in forcefully as a cold chill traveled down the masters spine.
Traden blinked, trying to process what was happening as he diverted much of his attention to the new battle within. He had never encountered the use of mentalism at this level, and it caught the master off guard as horrifying images began to flood his mind.
In the moment of distraction, the Acolyte seized the opportunity by slashing upwards across Traden's chest with ferocity. Traden, caught between two battles, tried to pull away in time, but failed as he felt severe pain travel through his body. Luckily, his beskar chest plate absorbed most of the strike, keeping it from being lethal. The Master quickly responded as the Acolyte's arms were outstretched from the strike by pulling his saber up and severing both of the Acolyte's hands clean off.
The red saber, with both hands still grasping onto it, drifted away into the void as the Acolyte's eyes widened in obvious unvoiced pain, pushing himself away from the master with a kick to Traden's chest. Traden's body bounced backwards off the hull, springing back up quickly due to the placement of his foot. He grasped at his chest, feeling the cauterized wound that was on his lower chest. Lucky it had not traveled too deep.
Traden focused back fully on the devastating visions that were filling his mind, trying to regain control of his own thoughts. It was like trying to fight a ghost.
Suddenly another red saber was descending upon the master. A second Acolyte had emerged from the hatch and was now engaging him in combat. He pulled his own blade up, crackling brilliantly against the enemy blade. At the same time, the first Acolyte came flying back in, elbowing Traden in the mouth.
Traden flinched from the assault as his Jedi breathing device was ripped out of his mouth and sent spiraling away from him. His eyes widened as he forced himself to hold his breath against the immense pressure of the void. He reached out and grabbed forcefully onto the air mask of the first Acolyte, ripping it off his face and holding it against his own, taking in a deep breath of fresh oxygen as it sealed against his skin. The Acolyte struggled without hands, trying to grab onto Traden's arm and pull the mask back to himself as Traden continued to spar with the second Acolyte.
And all of this conflict on the outside was almost overshadowed by the war within his own mind as Traden fought to keep his own sanity in tact against the unseen master.
Traden finally turned and kicked the handless Acolyte hard, sending him careening away. However, the other was able to reach out and grab onto his arm and, using a brace against the hatch door, swung him back around and towards the force master again.
Traden reached out with his free hand and grabbed onto the saber hand of the second Acolyte, keeping him from being able to use it to strike. As the handless one flew back towards Traden, he ripped upward across the mans body with his own saber, severing one arm clean off and causing a certainly fatal blow. The Acolyte, eyes wide, grasped desperately for the mask Traden had stolen from him, finally pulling it free and pushing it up against his own face with the cauterized stub of his arm as he took in his final breath before the life slowly left his eyes, his body slowly beginning to drift away from the master. Traden reached up, grabbing the mask from his dead face and shoved it back onto his own, taking in another deep breath of precious oxygen.
The remaining Acolyte struggled against Traden's grasp of his arm, using his free hand to try to pull the oxygen mask off once again. Traden grabbed his other arm finally and then twisted both his hands inward, causing both sabers to twist down and instantly sever the Acolyte's head clean off. The head stayed there for a moment, eyes wide, staring at the force master. Traden shoved the floating head out of his way as he let go of the body, pulling his own saber back to himself as the two Acolyte's bodies drifted further and further away from the hull, lifeless.
Traden deactivated his saber, placing it back onto his belt as he continued to hold the air mask against his face, breathing heavily and taking a moment to rest from the fight.
He looked over his shoulder and realized quickly that the ship was making its way to the Galactic Alliance's flagship, the
Momentous Triumph. He needed to keep moving. He couldn't afford to rest for long.
The battle was still present in his mind, however he had found a way to focus in spite of the internal chaos being thrown at him. It had done its desired affect however, as the Jedi Master had grown weary. His mind was almost on repeat now, displaying the image of his shattered wife over and over, unable to fully divert the vision… merely suppress it.
Traden grabbed onto the air hatch door with effort, pulling his body down into the chamber and locking it behind him. As the chamber filled with fresh oxygen, Traden tossed the air mask away, his face expressing exhaustion and dullness.
He would begin to make his way into the Ship with the eventual goal of finding the dark force master… the source of his mental assault. He did not bother to attempt to communicate with him anymore. That had been an obvious mistake in the first place.