The fuming crag known as Mustafar was virtually lifeless, save for the lava fleas, fiery flows, and those foolish enough to claim it as their sanctuary. Juda Graves, donning his obsidian armor, was there, standing on a charred patch of raised soil. The Black Sun, of whom he had many dealings with in the past had beckoned him to their world.
The bounty puck secured to his utility belt gave him the last known coordinates and dossier of an Odanite, a member of yet another group he had many run-ins with over the years. The price had been set. The hunt was on. Like a predator, reading the terrain, Juda's perceptive eyes and sharpened focus from decades of tracking his quarry revealed foot-prints in the blackened gravel.
They meandered along a river of lava and crossed over on a raised patch at its center before proceeding to the mining facility that grew in size the closer he got to it. The clanging of machinery and the rumble of drills breaking through the burnt crust of the surface drowned out the frantic communication of the worker droids as they scurried about, simply slaves to their programming. Thankfully it was all muffled by the black helmet of his familial armor, his beskar'gam ad valoon, which was becoming more of a burden as it trapped the heat against his pale skin. Nevertheless, after spending most of his time wrapped up in the durasteel cocoon, while he had grown accustomed to its strengths he had also learned to bear its weaknesses.
The footprints followed the wall as its bowed structure circled around to a side entrance. The dossier of Revs possessed detailed information, morsels of knowledge gathered by the finest spies the Black Sun could afford. He remembered reading that his mark was a Miralukan and it all made sense. The path was one created by someone who relied on instinct over sight. Under normal circumstances this would make for an easy collection. However, over the course of his Galactic exploration he had discovered a simple truth. Nothing was ever normal. Revs was a member of the Jedi Order, utilizing instincts was far more important than relying on physical sight. This Jedi wasn't going to be hindered, but empowered. This made him lethal under the circumstances of the Galaxy.
The footsteps stopped at the edge of a corrugated metal base. A staircase rose from the weathered metal leading to a ramp that surrounded large vats of glowing lava. At the end of the catwalk, Juda saw a switch, an obvious device used for maneuvering the large vats fixed to automated arms. What was unusual about this switch is that it was swinging back and forth. The HUD inside Juda's helmet didn't have readings for higher than normal wind speeds, not likely strong enough to move the bulky contraption. Could a droid have bumped into it, was it from the constant vibrations that made the factory groan and seem alive?
Proceeding with caution, Juda closed in on the end of the ramp but suddenly a ping followed by a loud clang drew his attention to the left. He shifted his focus and standing behind packing crates with their hand held out was the long haired Miralukan he had been tracking. Only that outstretched hand was manipulating a Force that Juda couldn't comprehend as the swinging button began to flash and a large vat came crashing down.
"karkin h-" was all Juda could mutter as the path before him crumbled. The cacophony of destruction sucked him downward as he lost his footing and slammed into the hard floor and rubble below. He groaned but it was more like a growl as he looked up to where he was just standing. Revs stood there, admiring his work, his upturned head was a stance taken by individuals processing their thoughts. Revs was merely 'seeing' things from a different perspective.
Without skipping a beat, Juda slid his hand to the pistol holstered beneath his left arm and fired a salvo of purple shots that hit everything but his intended target. The final shot tore from the barrel but the Miralukan scoundrel would enter into an evasive corkscrew somersault and two flashes of light took the form of blades. Twisting through the air, upon landing, the attuned would drag his blades through the rubble towards Juda. They screeched and popped as they met resistance but would scream horrifically as they met, and were stopped by, a curved dagger of a dark origin. The Vizslan thrust forward, clearly the stronger of the two as Revs recoiled back allowing Juda to do a backwards roll off the pile.
"Your trap failed, Jedi!" The Proconsul shouted to the top of the mound, "I will never stop hunting you. Might'as well face your doom!"
The humming of lightsabers was still ringing in his ears as he switched the dagger to his left hand and his sword, which was more like a shadow appearing from beneath his cloak, in his right.
