Private Victory Ball

[Maeve Linahan]

Legs. Arm. Chest. Ravenna saw Cale's attacks coming from a mile out and parried them easily with her two blades, the experience of an old Sith Lord behind her every movement. Even in heels and a billowing dress heavy with needlework, the woman in red moved as a serpent might, and she spun and twirled around Cale like they'd engaged in a dance. But it was at his taunting that made her stop to consider.

"You know what?" Ravenna said. "You're absolutely right. I hadn't just come to party and dance with handsome strangers. I came here to stick pigs."

Her eyes cut to Senator Yin, who'd spent the last several minutes of chaos huddled under his table instead of fleeing, too panicked and drunk to think. While still locked in combat with Cale, she looked over his shoulder and cut a hand through the air. At her beckoning, the shattered glass from the ruined bar sailed toward them, heading straight for the senator.

Only at the very last moment, a table fell in front of Yin. The fine linen and wood caught the flying shards of glass, and the Jedi who carried it—Maeve, recovered and standing upright—stared down the woman in red. "Find someone else to dance with, Sith. Might I suggest Kyrel Ren? I can introduce you, if you'd like."

In hell, Maeve finished silently, before hurling the table at Ravenna. She hoped Cale would leap out of the way, else he'd also be getting a table full of glass to the face.

Cale Gunderson​

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[Cale Gunderson]

He'd have kicked himself for being so slow if he'd had the time. Blue and crimson met in a furious dance, every one of the Sith's strikes and counters as precise as his own, better even. Cale was dialed in, hunting for an opening like a hungry dog, oblivious to the woman's change in attention until the opportunity to do something with it had already slipped his grasp.

But Maeve was there, already compensating for his own slip. He'd always babied Aleks, worried too much about him to let the boy supplement Cale's own failings, but there were no such feelings here. It was a good thing, to be able to trust someone without worrying too much about them. He'd missed that, having an equal.

"He'd make pleasant company," Cale muttered under his breath of the recently slain darksider. They'd met once, and it had been all Cale needed to know that the living corpse would've made something like Ravenna writhe in disgust. The Dark Side had so many vastly different adherents, it was no wonder they tore themselves apart as often as their foes did. He'd be happy with the storm of shards and splinters from the table tearing Ravenna to pieces though, just this once.

Dropping away he let the table fly past to its intended target and without pausing he reached out and took another of its like from somewhere behind the Sith, and pulled it hard into Ravenna's back. Maybe that'd do it, maybe she'd be crushed in that instant and this night would be over, but Cale doubted it. He dropped back to Maeve, standing alongside her with his saber at the ready.

"You good?" He asked, his eyes remaining locked on where the Sith had stood.

Maeve Linahan

 

[Maeve Linahan]

As Maeve hurled the table towards them, she was glad at seeing Cale react in time to lunge clear out of its path, but her relief faded as she caught Ravenna doing the same, dancing away across the floor in a whirl of red.

The Sith flipped her hair and laughed. "You missed, foolish Jed—"

The table Cale had pulled forward smashed into her from behind, splitting in two and causing her to stumble and nearly face-plant on the floor. She growled, fury rolling off her in waves of heat. Back away, Ravenna kept her lightsabers on guard, clouded in the Dark Side. As she did, Maeve settled at Cale's side.

"My back isn't doing me any favors," she told him. "I feel as old as you are—technically speaking." If one counted years in stasis. "Otherwise, I'm fine." Maeve glanced over to him, taking in his condition and, well, his ghostly right arm. "Are you okay?" He seemed like it. Cale was full of surprises, and even mildly drunk, he still fought and posed as a Jedi better than she.

"Hey," Ravenna snapped at her, one hand resting on her hip. Irritation flashed in her eyes. "Are you done ogling or are we going to fight?"

Cale Gunderson​

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[Cale Gunderson]

“Oh, you’re funny now? Wonderful.” She’d been funny before, but Cale wasn’t going to be admitting that. Being hurtled through a bar hadn’t been wonderful for him, wounds freshly earned on Exegol stung fiercely, and judging from the warm, wet sensation under his chest, Cale was fairly certain something had been reopened. But he stowed his concern for a later time, throwing a look to Maeve as the vague shape that had hung from his missing arm seemed to vanish. It took focus and effort to maintain that he couldn’t justify at that moment.

“I’ll live.” He grunted back with a half smile. “We should probably deal with her before she talks us to death.” He threw a nod to Ravenna and her raging, something bordering on amusement hanging from his words.

“I’ll take the left.” He whispered, and without hesitation, he shot forwards toward the impatient Sith. Cale ought to have given her a chance to surrender, even if he knew Ravenna wouldn’t take it, not while she still thought she could win. But ought to’s had no place in the present moment, and he didn’t trouble himself with them.

Cale came in fast from the Sith’s left, a flurry of strikes raining down in a storm of blue arcs.

Maeve Linahan

 

[Maeve Linahan]

At Cale's last remark, Maeve mirrored a shadow of his smile and returned the nod. "You bring up a great idea," she said. "Let's."

Then, with his whispered order, she charged right, intending to finish this.

Same as before, Ravenna held them both off, red blades flashing to meet every one of their attacks. But something had changed. She had slowed. Whether from growing exhaustion or the table Cale had cracked over her head, the Sith didn't dance as swiftly as she had, and when Maeve caught a small opening in her guard, she struck out at it with all her righteous fury.

It didn't land. Of course, Ravenna swatted her attack aside like any other. But what she didn't expect was the opening it made on her left, and the slash Cale was able to land. Although the cut was terribly shallow, just below Ravenna's waist, it was enough to draw a gasp from the woman, who backpedaled from them both like a poked rat.

Rage flashed in her dark eyes again and she pointed her lightsabers at them. "You uncivilized brute," she snapped at Cale. "You ruined my dress." The Sith gestured down to the smoking wound at her hip. No doubt it hurt, but she seemed to make little show of pain. "This is made from Chandrilan silk. Have you no respect for fashion?"

Ravenna glowered and raised her hands. Whatever his answer, she didn't care. "No matter. Just see how you like it." As if on cue, shards of glass both from around the bar and those embedded into the previously thrown table shot towards them, coming in from all sides.

Cale Gunderson​

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[Cale Gunderson]

In truth, he’d been hoping to ruin more than her dress. Cale grumbled something under his breath at the Sith’s expense as he rolled his shoulders and gave the ignited lightsaber a slight flourish. He was loath to admit that Ravenna was nearly as powerful as she surely thought she was, which given the ego she seemed to have was saying something. Even still though, they were going to match her, they had to. The people still desperately trying to flee the ruined party might’ve been insufferable, but they were still innocent.

“I don’t have respect for a lot of things.” He bit back, his jaw tending as the force screamed its warning. As ever it was somehow both too early and too late, leaving Cale to sort out the timing. A thousand shards of hungry glass came in from all around them, and though the temptation to spin his blade defensively was there, he knew it wouldn’t provide sufficient cover on top of turning what wasn’t vaporized by the lightsaber into molten slag that was arguably more dangerous.

“Get her.” Cale grunted to Maeve as he drew in then expelled the Force, arresting most of the glass Storm mid-flight. Several shards made it through, leaving long lacerations as they split the fine fabric as easily as the skin beneath, but Cale held. They had to find a way to take the Sith out before she killed someone, namely them, but if they went there was no telling how many others might follow.

Maeve Linahan ​

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"On it."

Maeve nodded as Cale summoned a wall of the Force to catch the oncoming shards of glass. She admittedly felt a jab of worry as she noticed several cut into the fabric of his suit, drawing blood, but there was no time for concern. Only action. With one leg reared back, she exploded with her own reserves of the Force, launching towards Ravenna like liquid lightning.

Her blade crashed into both of the Sith's. For a split moment, Maeve pushed them back, which seemed to draw out a flash of surprise from Ravenna.

No doubt she hadn't expected a blow that strong. A good thing, too. Now that adrenaline was working through her system and the Force was filtering the alcohol out, Maeve finally was acting more like the Jedi Shadow she was, and not the half-drunk guest she'd been.

But still, it wasn't enough.

Ravenna pushed back hard, forcing Maeve into another table. She kept her footing, but caught off-balance, she left herself open to the Sith's next attack—crackling lightning, bursting out from the woman's fingertips as she rang with laughter.

Cale Gunderson​

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[Cale Gunderson]

Lightning danced out from Ravenna's fingertips, and Cale saw an opportunity. The ability was a devastating tool, but such an outpouring of strength came at a high cost to anything but the most dedicated servants of the dark. Ravenna didn't look necrotic enough to fit the bill, but there was still a chance he was wrong. Either way, Cale took the bet.

He shot forwards, fast, but not enough to seem little more than a blur as before. It was intentional, it was all intentional. When he closed Cale dashed sideways in anticipation of whatever counter the Sith had planned for him, planted his feet, and sprung forward, pivoting again as he passed behind the Sith Lady and slashing at her from behind. With any luck the blade would cut in at the open back of her dress, and come out above one of her shoulders.

Not that Cale was counting on it.

These duels were nothing more than a game of moves and counter moves, and for all her might Ravenna was overmatched. Cale and Maeve seemed to work in tune with one another, with or without saying a thing. He didn't trust easily, hadn't in a long time, yet he knew in his very soul that the second the Sith turned to save her hide from him, the Shadow would fall over her.

It might not have been the next move that did it, or the one after that, but Cale knew how this dance was going to end. He had a good partner after all.

Maeve Linahan ​

 

[Maeve Linahan]

Ravenna was a cruel and crooked beast. As she unleashed a cascade of lightning, Maeve had little strength or time left to fend the attack off. Still burdened by trace amounts of whiskey and exhausted from the long duel, all she could do was watch as the Dark Side crashed into her, jolting her body.

It was like her skin had caught flame. Like her needles pierced her bones. She cried out in pain, falling to the ground. She'd been hit by lightning before, but nothing like this.

Fortunately, the attack ceased as quickly as it came, and only thanks to Cale.

When he dashed at Ravenna, tricking her with his speed, the Sith Lord spun in distraction, meeting his blade with the two of hers. The satisfaction in her gaze flashed with anger. She had struck down the Shadow, so now all that was left for her to deal with was the Master and Senator Yin.

"Worthless cripple," Ravenna spat as their blades crackled against one another. "You've lost. You may have won at Exegol, but another war will come, and the Sith will ruin your precious home as we did at Tython."

The woman laughed, high and shrill and terrible. But as the words left her mouth, another voice rose behind her, bright and spectacular like the fireworks in the sky.

"Maybe," said Maeve, "but you won't be with them."

Ravenna's eyes went wide. The Sith Lord had forgotten about the Jedi Shadow she'd thought she fried, and when she turned to face her, she would find Maeve's furious gaze and the cold-blue lightsaber she carried. Before the woman could even react, Maeve crashed her lightsaber clean through her neck, sending her head flying.

What remained of the Sith crumpled into a heap.

"Hag," Maeve said, one final and rare insult, before she collapsed herself.

Cale Gunderson​

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[Cale Gunderson]

Tython brought back memories, none of them good, most of them with nothing to do with the Maw's assault on the world. Cale had done his part there in the end, but being there, being home, it had somehow been harder than walking the halls on Coruscant where the dark hand had made him a puppet on strings. Maybe it was that Tython had never been tainted by his presence in those years, it had lived on as a bastion of hope in his memories. Returning had made him afraid he'd ruin them.

But Cale held, his blue sparking against her crimson as they bore down on one another with unbridled intensity. Then the trap was sprung, and aside from Maeve's spoken barb, the world seemed to go silent but for the hum of their sabers and the thunk of Ravenna's head onto the ground. The blade of Cale's saber vanished with a hiss and fell to the ground as he dropped it in order to free his hand to catch Maeve as she fell. He eased her down, keeping the Jedi Shadow sitting upright rather than sprawled on the shard-covered floor.

"Easy." He spoke more gently than before, ignoring a trickle of blood rolling down from one of the fresh gashes opened up by the crystalline storm a moment earlier. "Wouldn't want Val coming in on us like this right?" Cale hoped humor might keep her lucid while first responders rushed to the soiree, and eventually to her.

There were a hundred concerns to address, but there and then Maeve's well-being was his only one. Everything else could wait.

Maeve Linahan

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"She better not, else it's on both of our heads."

Maeve snorted a laugh at Cale's remark only to feel a stab of pain. Ravenna had taken quite a lot out of her, leaving the Jedi with more bruises and cuts than she might've hoped. But at least she was alive. She and Cale both. In the half-drunken haze of her mind, it was all that mattered.

Oh, and Senator Yin too, of course.

The plump nobleman stumbled out of hiding, still drunk and having clearly wetted his pants. He held both his hands shakily and looked around. "Is it over? Is it done?"

Maeve felt the urge to roll her eyes. So much trouble for another rich bonehead. But it was a good thing she'd been here tonight to protect him, and more that Cale had been, too. Although she would never admit it, she wasn't sure if she'd have been able to stop Ravenna without him or his assistance.

Her eyes cut towards him. Part of her wanted to say something. A few somethings, in fact. To thank him, to ask him if he was okay. Instead, Maeve awkwardly looked away and cleared her throat, unable to voice the strange feelings in her head.

"You uh, can let go of me now," she said reluctantly.

Cale Gunderson​

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[Cale Gunderson]

The whinging Senator earned a hard roll of Cale's eyes, but little else in terms of acknowledgment. He'd tell his friends and peers how he'd 'barely survived' a vicious assassination attempt at the hands of a Sith as beautiful as she was dangerous. Yinh would doubtlessly play up his own, nonexistent role in her defeat, and let his PR team repackage the whole story into an advertisement for his next reelection campaign. It'd been done before to great success Cale was sure, and he was sure it would be done again.

"Oh, I uh-, right." Cale's hand left Maeve and he felt a range heat in his cheeks beneath the rough beard. The liquor's work, he was sure. A dozen freshly healed wounds must've opened up during the fighting, as Cale felt the stickiness of blood beneath his clothes. Nothing too serious, but the temple's healer wouldn't be pleased with him to be sure. The Jedi wiped a trail of crimson falling from a newer gash on his brow, some of it smearing but most coming off of him with little issue. He must've been quite the sight.

He wasn't quite sure what to say, though his mind offered dozens of equally useless suggestions. Cale felt strange as he rose calling his saber to his hand and returning it to its place, then offering out his open hand to help Maeve back up to her feet with the faintest hint of a smile.

"Guess we ought to get moving." The Jedi mused, looking over his shoulder at the decimated bar, his eyes zeroing in on a few choice bottles that had been spared utter eradication. "Wanna take a few for the road? It's the least they could do."

It wasn't a very Jedi-like notion, but Cale figured they'd earned it.

Maeve Linahan ​

 

[Maeve Linahan]

Maeve accepted Cale's hand and climbed back to her full height.

They were both worse for wear. While his suit stood in tatters and blood caked his face, Maeve boasted her own battle scars. Her dress was an eyesore, the skirt missing a corner piece like an animal had taken a bite out of the fabric, and an assortment of cuts and bruises ran down her right arm and back. A visit to the temple infirmary was guaranteed.

Fortunately, she wouldn't be going alone, nor in bad spirits.

"We really shouldn't," Maeve said and glanced over to the devastated bar. Drinking so much to begin with had left her open to many of Ravenna's attacks. Was it honestly wise to do it again?

She surveyed the mess of the party, Senator Yin's rambling, the sound of approaching sirens, and considered for a moment. "Oh, by the Force. Why not?"

Maeve slanted Cale a rare smile. The pain of her bruises faded to the back of her mind. She felt tired, beaten and drained, but as she looked over to the other Jedi, none of that seemed to matter. They had defeated a Sith Lord together. The night was still young, and they had much to celebrate.

End Thread.​

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