A magnificent edifice located on the edge of a cliff in Naboo’s capital city, Theed serves as the the Royal Palace for the Royal Houses of Naboo. It also houses the planet’s monarch and acts as the nerve center of government. Despite a Separatist Trade Federation invasion and a failed Imperial attempt to render Naboo uninhabitable, the palace has weathered each storm.

The massive complex was designed with sandstone-like blocks that help make the palace the largest structure in the city. The blocks form into tall towers and rotundas with cupolas that are covered in green tile. A central, drum-shaped structure takes up the majority of the complex while a narrow tower signifies its highest point. Watch towers overlook the cliff face, strategically placed to detect a rear attack from the valley below.

Surrounded by a vast garden, the palace boasts a hangar and secret passages leading to the various buildings in the complex. Resembling a moat in design, a pool in the garden is capable of being drained to close off access after the bridge is raised. Entrance and exit into the garden require a passcode to circumvent the security gate.

Inside, the palace is filled with vast, cavernous corridors embellished by Naboo’s own artisans. Its splendor is a showcase of the planet’s greatest sculptors and craftsmen. The main entrance is located at a terminus of the Palace Plaza, a broad promenade which was crowned at the opposite end by the Palace Courtyard, erected in the aftermath of the Trade Federation invasion. The Triumphal Arch stands halfway between the fountain-filled courtyard and the steps of the palace, which are lined with towering statues of famed philosophers who helped shape the constitution of Naboo's government.

Within one of the lower rotundas near to the entrance lies the throne room of the planet's monarch, a vaulted chamber with tall windows. The throne rests behind the desk of office with several chairs around which to accommodate members of the court. The throne was made not only for comfort to reflect the calm serenity maintained on the planet, but also for functionality. Control panels on the armrests monitor incoming transmissions and several holdout pistols are kept securely in reach.

In response to the initial Separatist invasion, the entirety of Theed was converted into a massive EMP generator and, once a series of activation terminals throughout the city have been triggered, can be activated from the throne room. It is an involved process that requires working knowledge of the system.

Post 1 — Strong

Footsteps rang down the corridor, heavy boots on polished stone making no effort to be stealthy. They belonged to the large Chiss, with a furrowed brow and set jaw, restrained anger on his features. Several Nabooian guards, clad in their red chest plates, eyeballed him as he headed down some narrow steps. It led to a chamber less….appointed...then much of the place, lower ceilings and lined with flickering forcefields. A guard nodded to him, standing before one, as he approached before moving away.

Stres’tron’garmis turned to face the occupant of the cell when he reached it, looking into the sparse room. A narrow bunk, a small refresher station, and that was it. He narrowed his eyes and sighed. Hovering next to his head, the DDP-13 droid beeped and narrowed the iris of its eye at a specific spot inside the cell.

“I know you are here, young lady, please stop the facade. I have secured your release, with conditions,” he spoke in a steady, neutral tone. He lifted a bundle in one hand, weapons wrapped in a white cloak.

A Zabrak woman appeared in the cell, letting out a long breath, sweat on her brow from concentrating on eluding detection.

“Hey, Strong,” she spoke with downcast eyes, looking embarrassed. “Is the Shadow Lady mad?”

The General shook his head, nodding down the hall for a guard to open the cell. He pushed the bundle into Sera’s arms before she could step out, pushing her back a step, before leaning down to eye-level with the horned woman.

”The Shadow Lady is currently dealing with other business, more pressing. I was dispatched by the Dajorra Intelligence Agency to ‘handle’ a situation of theirs. I am disappointed to find you in these circumstances, doubly so that you allowed their Director to get you involved in such a so-called mission.”

“I thought it was a weird job, yeah, but it was a challenge! I don’t say no to a challenge, Big Guy,” the irrational cheer of the Mystic shining through with her smile as she secured her vambraces. They clicked in place and she seemed to sigh, glancing down to check her knives were properly placed as well before stretching. She threw the Chiss a wink, knowing his reputation and hoping to soften his disposition a little. “Ours is not to question why the Ryn running our intelligence network wanted someone to get their hands on the ‘most royal undergarments of Naboo’ but here we are!”

She shrugged and tried to step past him, finding the big man unmoving, “Uh, Strong, I thought we were leaving?”

He held a hand up, gently laying it atop her head, fingers falling between her horns. She shuddered slightly from the warm touch and shrunk in on herself, looking up at him. This was unlike him, and the small cell she was in did not give a lot of options. On the edge of her mental perception, she could sense the guards and palace personnel leaving the area, like ripples from where the two Arconans stood. A pair of droids dropped from an access chute nearby, hovering, with large ocular assemblies on the front.

“The Queen has decided to release you, on the condition that you can reach the courtyard outside and cross the bridge. Her guards will not stop you.”

“Sounds easy enough,” she said with forced cheer, still well aware of the Elder’s grip on her scalp. He leaned down again to look her in the eye, red glowing orbs boring into her.

”The other condition is that I must do everything in my power to keep you from escaping. Consider this a test of your abilities, Miss Kaern.”

“Aw, I thought we got to the point where you could call me Sera, Strong,” she gave him another smile.

”Not today,” he said with a sigh, stepping back so she could exit the cell, removing his hand from her head, and taking a deep breath. His uniform filled out as he seemed to flex every muscle in his upper body, turning his neck with an audible crack and releasing his breath. ”Today you are not a friend, but a foolish girl who should already be running for her life,” he spoke grimly.

She gave him a blinding grin, reaching up to place her hand over her chest as if in salute, only to grab the clasp of her cloak and whirl it off her shoulders. She tossed it in the air, towards the big man’s head, and pivoted on her heel to dart towards the stairs. A warning screamed out through the Force, prompting her to glance over her shoulder in time to see Strong’s Bilari cut her cloak in two. She winced, that had been important to her and dodged to the side as the sword extended into its whip state, stretching out to catch her. It just missed her leg, and the chase was on.

Sera bound up the stairs, the Force fueling her steps and muscles, taking them as quickly as her diminutive form would allow. Behind her, she could hear the thunder of boots on stones, her hunter using his long strides, and physical capability to try and close the gap. Another itch at the base of her skull caused her to dive out of the stairwell at the top, hitting the polished floor of the hallway in an awkward roll as the chain-whip filled the air above her with a swipe. The hum of repulsors filled the air as the two camera-droids rose above the hall, taking in multiple angles. She saw Strong’s own probe droid tracking her as well.

“This doesn’t seem fair, Strong,” she pouted, lifting her arms up to bring her vambraces in line with the Chiss. She quirked a grin and fired off a few distracting blaster bolts, before using the distraction to start moving again. Her padded boots carried her down the broad corridor, windows to her left providing a picturesque and breathtaking view of the valley which the palace was built over. Maybe someday she could actually appreciate the view, throwing a glance upward as the droids continued tracking her. “Hope you’re enjoying the show at least, your Majesty,” she managed, trying to control her breathing.

Strong trotted after her, his eyes fixed on the Zabrak’s lean, sand-armor clad form. He shook his head.

I will have words with Director Bleu about this foolishness when I return.

Two pairs of footsteps echoed down the length of the vaulted corridor. The first was soft, swift, sprinting along the fine sandstone tiling of the palace. The second set was heavy, harsh, hobnailed jackboots clattering like gunfire. After a moment, the footsteps were joined by a trio of warbling hums: seeker droids, sleek black forms ripping through the air, their crimson, ocular lenses locked on the duo beneath them, looking for a shot of the action.

Katka, katka, katka! Sera cursed within her mind, her breath hissing out between sharp, tightly clenched teeth.

She had thought that she would have been able to make her get away easy, once she’d broken out of that first rotunda. But, the palace complex was...a little bit more extensive than she had originally perceived during her short “diplomatic visit,” placing a veritable maze between her and the courtyard that Strong had described. Each magnificent, sweeping hallway bled into another, every single one more grandiose and ridiculously long. The interiors were gorgeous, of course, but they offered precious little in the way of cover. Nowhere to hide, to let Strong pass her by, to make a damned stand.

The Chiss was gaining on her rapidly. He was far faster than he looked, and she knew from personal experience that it would take more than a jolly jaunt through the palace to wear him down. Four times, the two of them had fought. She had only taken him down once. Arcona’s furry director of intelligence knew how to pick his challenges alright. Strong thought that she had failed on her bargain with Director Bleu, but she hadn’t. The Royal Guard’s search hadn’t been...nearly thorough enough.

They turned a corner and a grin broke across Sera’s face. Up ahead, a broad arch opened up into the courtyard, though that word hardly seemed appropriate. Plaza, perhaps, was better, not that she had much time to look.

The Force screamed in her mind, and Sera heard a sharp pffft cut through the air behind her. Before she could turn, or even slow down, something closed around her ankles, ripping her feet out from under her. The Zabrak fell flat on her face, nose cracking against the place’s cold tile floor as she skidded to a stop. Dazed, blood and shocked tears pouring down her face, she flipped onto her back, fighting to clear her mind. A glowing yellow cord was wrapped around her ankles, vaguely familiar in appearance. It trailed back to a shining silver vambrace clamped around Strong’s wrist, identical to, if slightly larger than, her own.

Sera groaned, wiping blood and sweat away from her eyes as Strong started dragging her back towards him, her thin hide pants squeaking against the floor. She glanced from his dark, grimacing face to his hands. One still clutched that wicked chain sword; the other was looping into the grapple-line, steadily pulling her closer. If he got those hands around her, it was all over. Her bright blue eyes trailed up once again, glancing into his, before locking on a dark shape hovering in the air behind him.

A grin reformed on her face, pointy teeth now streaked with blood. “Got me looped up pretty tight, huh, Big Blue?” she teased, one hand flitting to her belt.

“This Garmis binding technique...has been passed down...for generations,” he affirmed, musculature bulging beneath the grey fabric of his uniform as he yanked her to his feet. He looked oddly bemused as he reached down for her, a great blue mitt making to grab her by the collar.

“Oh, Strong...if anyone knows how to tie a girl up, it’s a tribal,” Sera retorted, blue eyes glittering. One hand shot forward, reaching out with an invisible grip,but, it wasn’t directed at Strong. Rather, she took hold of his Seeker droid, hovering a few feet behind him, and sent it careening right into the back of his big blue head with a metallic ping. Simultaneously, the Zabrak flexed her core, bringing both legs up and slamming her boots into Strong’s gut.

The combined impact was barely enough to send him stumbling back a few steps — it was like trying to kick a frackin’ oak tree over — but the space was all that she needed. One hand ripped the saber from her belt, the blade igniting with a burst of golden light. A quick flick of the blade severed the grapple line where it bound her ankles, freeing her. The Chiss didn’t intend to let her go, of course. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the humming crimson chain billow back, and then snap forward with a stream of sparks.

Sera ducked, laying flat, just in time for Strong’s chain-whip to pass over her. She managed to avoid it, barely, but a crimson plasma filament caught the trailing edge of her saber, coiling around it. Plasma sparked and burst, glowing slag sloughing off and pattering against the tile. Once again, Strong flexed his musculature and the saber was ripped from Sera’s grip. He caught the hilt in one massive blue hand, the golden blade extinguishing.

Sera didn’t wait to see what he would do with it. Channeling the Force into her musculature, she kipped up to her feet, turned tail, and ran. As much as she would love to fight him, her honor was bound to the challenge, and the challenge dictated that she get away, not scrabble with the Chiss. Besides...it wasn’t like he would stay far behind. She could sense the rising excitement in his heart, the thirst for honor and glory. He was enjoying this just as much as Sera was, playing to the royal audience that had been provided to him.

She heard his feet clomping behind her, and knew that she wouldn’t keep her lead for long. Just as she reached the waist-high balcony, providing a sweeping view of the throne room, she turned to meet Strong’s charge. Standing, this time. When he lashed out with the chain-whip, the sparking blade falling in a massive overhead slash, she dodged to the side at the last possible moment. The whip lashed against the balcony’s railing, coiling around the richly carved sandstone rather than Zabraki flesh.

He’d tucked her saber into his belt. Now he fought solely with a pair of wicked vibrocuffs, darkened bands of durasteel glinting across his knuckles. Sera normally preferred this kind of close-quarters combat; it had been drilled into her head since she was a girl. But, those knuckles, and Strong’s massive size, changed the equation a little bit. Backed up against the balcony, she just had no room for anything flashy. She settled with a harsh oblique kick into his left knee as she charged him, buckling the joint slightly, and giving her leverage to drive an elbow into his sternum before he got his guard up. He hardly flinched, her blows driving into musculature that might have been a solid slab of stone. Before she could continue her offensive, his guard swept in, one massive hand batting her elbow away to cover his stomach, while the other swept around for a crushing, chambered uppercut. She flowed backwards just in time, a gust of air passing her blood-streaked face. She backed up once again, firmly cornered against the balcony while Strong fell into an offensive stance, feet spread, knees dipped, torso already torquing for the next blow. Sera swayed around it, launching a straight-kick at his gut, but he swept the strike away with the back of one hand, the whirring blades of the vibroknuckler cutting bloody rents into her calf as she did.

The Zabrak fell back, growling, but there was no place to go, no room to dance around him, and precious little chance to go through him. All he needed to do was close his arms around her; once that grip closed, she would be out. She needed an equalizer, a ploy, something to bring him...down.

A silent, confident smile crossed Strong’s square jaw as they fell back into posture. She matched it with a wide, bloody, toothy grin. Then, Sera pivoted, her loose, rhythmic step pausing. One foot started to rise, as if she was chambering for another kick. She felt Strong anticipate it, and watched a smile spread across his face. His hips turned, the lower hand exploding forward. He would have been able to grab Sera directly by the throat, a hold that she could never have broken from, if she was actually going for the kick. She wasn’t.

The Zabrak shifted all of her weight onto her off foot, turning away from the grab. One arm looped around Strong’s, binding it as tight as she could manage. The other...shot halfway down his pants. It was the best way to secure her grip for what came next. Channeling all of her might and all of the strength that the Force could provide to her lower musculature, Sera bent her knees...and leapt backwards. The momentum of Strong’s blow, combined with her jump, pulled both of them against the balcony’s railing...and over it, sending them tumbling to the throne room twenty feet below.

She would see this challenge through, as far as she was able, or her honor be damned.

A dozen things went through Strong’s mind as they pitched over the railing. First was amusement, he was genuinely enjoying himself as he often did when he sparred with Sera Kaern. The second was the impropriety of the grip she was using, something that he...likely wouldn’t balk at if they were not being watching by the Queen of Naboo’s droids. Thirdly was his instinctual response to the fall, and his own morals as a man.

Likely if we hit the flagstones below, this battle is over, there is little chance that Miss Kaern will be able to rise before I could, he thought.

Despite this tactical thought, honor and chivalry won out as it often did in his mind. The arm she held to manage the throw tightened, twisting around her midsection and hugged the limber Zabrak to his chest, his body turning in the air. He tried to go lax as they rushed down, hoping that they didn’t land on his head.

The throne room floor rushed up to meet them, and it hurt, the Chiss expelled most of the air in his lungs as he landed on his back with a meaty thump. Something inside of him shifting, likely a few ribs he thought, and pain shot through most of his body.

He let out a grunt, his grip on the woman not loosening at first as he processed the agony, tightening his arm to the point that the hand not down his pants began beating on his chest. He blinked, a haze of black spots filling his vision as he looked down at the bloody face of the woman, momentarily lost to the world as he let her go. Part of him nagged at him to not do that, something to do with the pair of droids circling above them in the air, red photoreceptors locked on.

Sera scrambled off him, feeling new aches and pains. Even if she hadn’t landed on the floor, Strong wasn’t much better. Still, nothing had broken, she thought as she stretched, her leg shaking under her from where she’d caught the nasty end of his knuckler before the fall. Her pant leg was clinging to her, soaked in blood, and she knew it was time to get out before she couldn’t run at all anymore. A quick look around the room was...educational. She saw the entrance to the throne room, letting out into the—

“Courtyard!” she said with her usual cheer, grinning.

“Indeed,” came an imperious voice, prompting her to glance over her shoulder. Strong was slowly getting to his feet, the big guy’s face contorted in pain. Beyond him though, was a woman in ornate dress sitting in a very large, very fancy chair behind a desk. “You are so close.”

Sera stiffened, the lack of education in etiquette or decorum rushing through her mind, trying to pick whatever bits she’d managed to glean in her time on Selen or from bad holodramas. She settled with how she’d seen Strong himself act around their Shadow Lady...in the official settings, turning fully to the Queen of Naboo and bowing low, her leg almost giving out.

“Uh, your Majesty,” she stated, before looking up and shooting her a grin, pivoting and half-running, half-limping towards the courtyard as Garmis stood. She looked back to see the Chiss paying his own respects, hand over chest and bowing as well, probably saying something far more eloquent than she had. That was fine, the longer he took, the better, she decided.

The fresh outside air did wonders for her morale, the sun shining and the wind gently breezing as she moved through the picturesque courtyard. She could see the bridge, and she pushed herself, drawing on the Force and directing healing energies towards her leg. Her limp lessened as she kept moving, and above the sounds of birds singing and fountains bubbling she heard...a huffing. She didn’t want to look back, she knew what she’d see, she could feel him, but she couldn’t help it.

Strong’s run lacked some of the form and grace it normally held, chugging along after the Zabraki woman. His fists were clenched, his face twisted in pain as he moved, his breathing labored. But he was still gaining on her.

Sera pushed harder, the pain in her leg fading and her resolve growing stronger. The bridge was so. Close. Now.

”Miss Kaern!” shouted the Chiss from behind her as she reached the head of the drawbridge. She skidded to a stop, turning to look at the General. Tricks weren’t a part of Strong’s forte, she knew that. He held up a familiar site, her saber hilt looked small in his grip. ”You would abandon your weapon?”

She licked her bloody lips, tasting copper, as he held the weapon aloft. Sera lifted a hand, trying to retrieve the weapon with the Force, and was surprised when he simply released it upon feeling it tug towards her. The hilt was a familiar and comforting presence as it slapped into her palm, and she let out a breath. But, Garmis was walking towards her still, and she hadn’t made it across the bridge, drawing the knucklers from his hands and flexing the fingers.

“Strong….” she began to say, wondering what he was doing, before it hit her. A dopey smile graced the Zabrak’s stained and tattooed face, clipping her saber to her belt and bouncing in place on her toes, loosening up. “Round five, huh? Here at the end?”

”I am pleased you are able to read my intentions,” he chuckled, looking as if it hurt, his shoulders rolling in preparation. When he finished, his features turned stone-like, and his gaze locked on her. He charged.

She half expected him to lower his shoulder and bear her down to the ground, as he had at least a few times when they sparred. Or wampa hugged her, she still had flashbacks to him squeezing her to unconsciousness. But not, the big General lead with a fist, one she barely ducked under. She reached up to try and go for a repeat of the balcony, hooking her elbow up over his arm and shoving her smaller frame into his midsection, the Force flaring in her muscles to bring him up and over onto the bridge. He landed on his back and rolled, a grunt of pain the only indication that she’d managed to hurt him further.

“Not the most tactical of decisions, my dear,” he rumbled lowly, standing up. Sera cursed herself, watching one of the seeker droids hover over the man’s shoulder. She could see her goal beyond them, the end of the bridge, which she’d just firmly placed Strong in the way of. “How will you deal with it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I thought you were trying to stop me,” she said, giving him a wink.

“I am, but I am also responsible for the training of young Shadesworn, Miss Kaern. Just because you are not a journeyman anymore does not mean I cannot instruct you further,” he said, the hint of a smile breaking through his facade. He cracked his knuckles and bent his knees, waiting for her to come, arms raised in defense.

She didn’t make him wait. Even with fatigue starting to set in, she bolted forward, drawing on the Force to propel her. She jumped to the side, towards the railing of the bridge, and kicked off of it, twisting in the air and swinging her entire weight behind a kick towards Strong’s head. The one sparring bout that she’d won against the man had ended with a boot to the temple, giving the big guy a concussion. This time he took the blow to a forearm and moved to grab her with his other hand. She managed to grab his wrist and use it as a pivot point, using the momentum of her jump to swing around his arm, just avoiding his questing grip.

She swung both legs up, wrapping them around his upper arm, and put all her weight behind trying to bend the back in an armbar, trying to put stress on his elbow. It was like trying to moving a tree, sweat beading around her horns as she strained against his muscles with eyes squeezed shut. She grunted and opened her eyes, to find him watching her with a quizzical expression, his arm shaking from holding her weight up.

“Well it was worth a shot,” she grumbled, unhooking one leg and pulling it back, kicking the Chiss in the face while he was in mid-chuckle.

Strong grunted anew, feeling his lip split from the sudden, improvised strike. Another kick came, and another. He suspected he’d have some interesting bruises when this contest was over. He lifted his free hand to stop the next kick, and it never came, the weight on his arm suddenly disappearing. He blinked, red eyes looking in confusion to see the Zabrak had not just dropped from where she was clinging but was now jogging towards the end of the bridge.

“Honor and duty, Strong! Not here to beat you, just get away, right?”

”Indeed!” shouted the Chiss, charging after her with a woozy expression. Between a twenty foot fall and several solid boots to the face, he was feeling tired. She was nearly at the end when he caught up, a finger hooking the back of her collar and jerking her to a stop, and back a few feet.

Sera turned with the pull, her neck screaming in protest at the whiplash, and trying to kick the Rollmaster in his knee. He took it, his leg shaking, and punched back, a quick jab towards her face that she had little choice but to throw both arms up in a cross block. She felt her feet slide back at the impact, and her forearms stung.

The droids hovering around them abruptly paused, then flew off, barely registered by the Zabraki as she prepared a counter-attack. She stopped in mid-swing as Strong began laughing, the big man slowly going down to one knee.

”A very enjoyable chase, Miss Kaern,” he said with a laugh, and pointed down.

She followed his finger to the ground and started laughing as well. The last blow had pushed her over the end of the bridge.

“Well, how about that,” she replied, feeling lightheaded. She straightened her chest piece slightly, feeling her prize hidden inside. “I need a drink and a shower.”

”Indeed, lets go home,” sighed Strong, rising to his feet, his big hand reaching out to pat the Zabrak on her horned head. ”My ship isn’t far, its amenities are befitting House Garmis! You may avail yourself.”

“Aww, you do care.”

Sera was just glad that Strong hadn’t landed on top of her. If he had, that would have been the end of it.

The fall was bad enough. She separated from the Chiss on the way down, landing with a harsh smack against the cold stone floor of the entryway. Her muscles froze, tightening as the wind was violently crushed from her lungs. Climbing to her knees, the Zabrak inhaled the Force, relaxing the musculature of her diaphragm so that she could breath, shakily, once more.

Boots clicked behind her, a deep, just slightly ragged chuckle booming in the air. She turned to see Strong standing. A trickle of crimson blood ran down his face from a tiny split in his bald temple, and the Chiss’ left arm was held stiffly at his side, shoulder looking slightly skewed. As she watched, he seized the left wrist in one massive mitt and yanked it forward, an audible pop sounding off as he wrenched the joint back into place.

Strong stopped, crimson eyes settling on her. And yet, he was still laughing.

“Well done, Miss Kaern,” he started, wiping blood away with the back of his hand. The cut, strangely, already seemed to have stopped bleeding. “That was...quite an engagement. I must admit, I wasn’t expecting to find your hand down my trousers, but you pulled the ploy off admirably.”

The Zabrak blinked, watching him warily. He’d lost his chain sword, which was now curled around the balcony above them, but the Chiss was still armed to the teeth. The vibroknucklers on his fists hummed gently, one stained dark with her blood.Those silver vambraces, she knew, had many toys..

Yet, instead of attacking, he waved one hand upward, brow furrowed, ruby-like eyes glimmering.

“On your feet, Miss Kaern. I would not finish this with you on your knees.”

Sera grinned at that. She glanced quickly over her shoulder. They had landed in some kind of foyer, the grand entry hall directly through the archway to their left. Beyond it, the palace’s doors were open wide.

She glanced back to Strong, climbing to her feet. Bright blue eyes locked with his, and the Zabrak bowed.

“Honor bind you, Strong.”

“And you, Miss Kaern.”

She then turned tail and took off through the archway. This time, she knew there was no way that she would beat her adversary in a foot race. Blood ran freely from her wounded calf, and even as she fought to ignore the pain, she was running with a half-limp. She needed to buy time, as much space as possible before he caught up to her again. Snarling, Sera thrust one vambrace behind her, pointed at the ground, and unleashed a roiling gout of flame. Oily fire pooled over the entryway’s intricately carved floor, just ahead of Strong.

She wasn’t aiming to cook him. Just to slow him down. It barely even worked for that. Grunting, the Chiss whipped his beautifully woven cape out before him, using it as a screen between him and the worst of the flame. The thick fabric lit almost immediately, but the impromptu shield served its purpose well. Strong’s mustache was only lightly singed when he finally caught up with his prey, about halfway across the palace’s grand hall.

Sera turned just as he reached her, pulling herthe bone-hilted dagger from its sheath to ward him off. It didn’t get far. Growling, Strong ripped the burning cloak fully from his shoulders with his right hand, swinging it in a tight, smoking arc. The fabric caught on the dagger like a gladiator’s net, ripping it from the Zabrak’s grip as Strong yanked and threw it away. His other hand launched forward like a viper, snapping shut around Sera’s wrist.

Sera twisted against the implacable grip, but his fingers were like a steel trap, crushingly tight around her wrist. She felt something in the joint pop.

Definitely not going to work.

Growling ferally, she stopped pulling against him and instead struck with her left hand, activating her vambrace’s repulsor as she punched towards his thick wrist. It gave the punch enough added oomph to break the Chiss’ grip, though only barely with enough time for her to duck under his next attempted grab, sliding to her knees.

This time, she was fairly certain that he wouldn’t mind beating the sand from her horned skull.

Thankfully, K’thri gave her a few options on the ground. The Zabrak pivoted on her knees before he took her by the throat, sliding through his legs to get around him. Thrusting her wounded wrist forward, she shot a glowing chord from the vambrace and looped it around his right leg, then the left as he turned around. It was a classic maneuver, like wrangling banthas for the tribe back home. Back on her feet, Sera pulled on the chord, fully expecting to yank his legs out from under him as he’d done to her earlier.

Unfortunately, she vastly underestimated the vast amount of strength centered within Strong’s thighs. She might as well have been trying to uproot a tree. The Chiss met her gaze, his brow quirking upward as a smirk crossed his face. Then, he took hold of the grappling line with both hands and gave it a pull of his own, his tight uniform straining to contain the swell of his musculature as he strained with all his might.

Sera was pulled fully off of her feet, swung like a flail at the end of the line. She had a feeling that he intended to bring her right back to him, or to swing her into one of the granite columns that lined the room. Instead, the Zabrak gave a panicked yelp, whipped her beloved Zabraki dagger from her belt, and cut the line.

She flew like a shot put and landed like one too. Clattering once again against the hard palace floor, Sera rolled clear through the enormous double-doors, coming to rest at the rise of the sweeping staircase beyond. A vast crowd had gathered outside the palace, at the foot of the majestic set of marble stairs that led up to the palace entrance. Humans, Gungans, and a vast array of other species, all come to witness the grand spectacle, roared as she bowled into their view. Sera noted huge vidscreens, probably routed to the droids that had been following them around.

Glory and honor awaited her. Victory, so very close, but in her current, bruised and battered state, it might as well gave been a marathon. Teeth gritting, Sera reached to the Force, suppressed her pain, and haltingly heaved herself to her feet.

She sensed Strong coming before she heard the click of his heels behind her. Exultation, pride in the joy of the crowd, in the audience. She didn’t even need to see the grin forming on his face. She felt it...and responded with one of her own, turning to the Chiss.

“Well, Blue? Looks like...looks like our audience...enjoyed the show,” she panted, eyes focusing on his hands.

“Just as much as her Royal Majesty did, I am sure,” he responded. One hand flexed, and Strong’s jaw tightened, his grin fading. “Shall we finish this challenge?”

“...Let’s...uh…shall.”

Sera and Strong exploded forward simultaneously, driving towards each other as the audience whooped with joy. This time, Sera made no attempt to avoid the Chiss’s grip. No kicks, no twirling dance, no fancy tricks. She was too tired, and they just wouldn’t serve her. No, this time, she pushed directly into him, locking her arms around Strong’s torso. He grunted in a slight moment of surprise at the movement as she played directly into his game.

Then, he slapped her arms down, locked one arm around her shoulder, and slammed Sera’s back against the stone, moving into a deadlock pin. She strained with all her might, every muscle in her back and abdomen hardening, tightening as she twisted against his grip, but he pushed on methodically. There was no room for K’thri here. This was Strong’s element. She couldn’t beat him. If she was being honest with herself, beating him in a straight up fight had been impossible from the start.

But, she didn’t need to beat him. She just needed to beat the challenge.

Sera caught Strong’s eye as he pushed her further into the lock. Looking up at him, the Zabrak grinned, a toothy smile splitting her blood-streaked face. She brought both of her legs up, and locked them around his hips, thighs and calves tightening. Then, she pulled together all of the will that she had left, channeling it into her core and her right arm.

And she pushed.

Not at Strong, but at the floor, twisting her core muscles simultaneously. It was enough to flip them just right, teetering them both over...towards the grand, marble staircase below. The Chiss realized what was happening a moment before they lost their balance on the top step’s edge and slipped.

Locked together, they tumbled down the hard, hand-carved steps. Dozens of them. It took the pair the better part of a minute to land at the foot of the stairs, bloody, bruised, gasping. The crowd had gone silent at the display, watching without a word.

Sera’s eyes flitted open and she gave a light groan. The Chiss underneath her responded with one of his own, like an avalanche rolling down a hillside. A rather apt description, considering the circumstances. Both of their eyes met once again. Then, in unison, they trailed to the now bloodied stairs. They had tumbled past the foot, where the palace’s marble met the red brick of the street.

Somehow, as she clambered to her feet, Sera managed a grin. She offered a hand to Strong, but he pulled himself solidly back to his feet. All things considered, he’d gotten the better end of that fall.

Still…

“It looks like…I’m the one wearing the royal underpants in this city,” she managed after a moment, stating it as brightly as she could as the crowd began to cheer once more. They walked on through the roaring crowd for a moment, before his crimson eyes suddenly narrowed in realization.

“...you don’t mean…” Strong murmured, his brow rising sharply. “Miss Kaern...surely…”

Sera just gave him a grin, and continued her triumphant limp onward.