ALLIES:
Yuri Maji
,
Sahan Dragr
TESTING RESOLVE OF:
Jonyna Si
“We Mandalore take everything we are and throw it into battle. It's the true test of yourself – the battle against death... against oblivion.”
― Mandalore the Preserver
The jetpack, alas, was built into the armor plate of his ancient visage - sleek in nature, it made it a difficult target to properly disable compared to most modern designs, the blade scraping off his side with sparks in its wake.
As he slowly stood, his smaller T-visor remained fixated upon her as she espoused forgiveness, of all things. The Viper stared, in a few moments longer of silence.
Before a loud, sardonic laugh emitted from behind the helm, hollowly echoing across the forest.
“A shame. After all this, you still do not grasp what has been, and could be. That is why I must exist.” His tone had then softened, almost as if morose. Despite all he tried to open her eyes to, she still resisted. His arms splayed wide to the one person that stood afore him, as if to a crowd of spectators,
“What happened that day is the reason the Republic lasted so long - a true warrior’s sacrifice. Without it, the Mando’ade would have claimed all. It would have stagnated and dissolved far earlier, only to be devoured. But it was, anyways. When peace finally did reign, it rotted until there was nothing left but a wretch’s Empire.”
Carduul knew much of history. How could he
not know of the bane of Mandalore the Ultimate, how one man swore a massacre like Cathar would never again occur ‘neath his watchful eye? Of the eventual fall of ancestral foes with no adversity to steel them?
His weapon was wrenched from the ground after he braced against it to stand. It pointed towards her.
“What use is a Hunter, when it is chained the way thou art? It is the reason why we are here, when you could have claimed ultimate victory, so long ago. If that were just, I would not exist. The Galaxy has other plans.”
Both of his hands then grasped the weapon. Lowering towards the ground, in preparation.
“If your ilk refuses to strive for greater heights, then my people shall - again, and again, and again.”
The cycle will continue. It was the only way for Mandalorians to survive, always one step ahead of the abyss. The only way for the Galaxy to survive.
And so he sallied forth, striking with all the fury and wrath she deserved, to be met with a newfound agility. His polearm hefted, turned, tilted. Narrowly missing several times, and the final attack was never thrown. In the midst of this tense exchange, which more than likely demanded all attention to subvert, a slowly growing rumbling was emanating from the forest.
Then his head tilted upwards, visor reflecting the brilliant flame. His final attack never motioned, and the momentum saw his polearm positioned towards the center of his body. He jetted upwards to meet her in the air, akin to a jousting duo of knights.
“That is why our kind is destined to fight for eternity.”
Keen gaze noticed she wasn’t aiming for him, rather his weapon. He kept his angle squarely center mass.
The lightsaber struck against metal, and a terrible shriek resounded in protest - far from the song by Mandalorian Iron. Imperfect, like the rest of his kit, yet it refused to break. Jonyna’s blade glided down the haft, which would have seen his fingers cut from his hand. With a grit of his teeth, in a sudden change of events, he let go of the polearm.
His right arm wrapped around and motioned to lock her forearm so that she would not be able to bisect a limb with her blade, by then too close to effectively move her weapon anyways, too close to dodge away. His left arm remained ready to fend off any other motions.
He did not have rows of sharp teeth, or unnatural powers to shatter metal and bolster his capabilities.
Instead, his helm came directly to her face. A parting gift, from his culture to hers.
CRASH.
The visor cracked. Her momentum had crashed into his mid-air. Weights would see them both dragged down into the sodden ground from the sky. No matter the repulsors, the jetpack, it was simply too much. Like a falling comet.
And upon landing, the impact would separate them once again, only to be suddenly surrounded by a horde of Umbara’s vast array of wildlife, fleeing from fires not far from their position. Carduul lost sight of the Cathar, sent tumbling once more with the threat of being trampled underfoot. In the dust kicked up, the glint of his weapon flashed. Swiftly, his jetpack thrust himself towards it. His wrist shot out, the whipcord wrapping around it, and pulling it to him.
With that in hand, and a still-bleeding leg, The Viper was gone with the forces of nature to rejoin his brethren, no doubt. He could’ve stayed until they both died from injuries - but that would have accomplished nothing for either of them. He still had a movement to spur on.