Adept Terran Koul vs. Warlord Rajhin Cindertail

Located on the Rimma Trade Route within the Outer Rim territories, Dagobah could very well be the best place in the Galaxy to hide. The remote location of the planet in combination with the lack of any kind of advanced civilization made it a system of little value to any kind of galactic government. The planet is hot, humid, and mostly filled with foggy, swamp-like jungles.

Dragonsnake Bog is a murky lagoon on the surface of the planet. Fog covers the cloudy waters of the bog. The waters ranged in depth, but at its deepest the bog was roughly 4 meters deep. Even in the shallow areas, the floor of the bog was thick with mud, making it easy for something or someone to get stuck within the lagoon.

True to its name, Dragonsnake Bog was the home of the large, snake-like creature known as the dragonsnake. The beast had an average length of 7 meters and weight of roughly 200 kilograms, though some fully grown dragonsnakes were much larger. It had large, venomous fangs that could help it to subdue prey and a hunger that was nearly unmatched. The dragonsnake usually hid just below the surface of the water, waiting for an opportunity to find its next meal. Once the creature spotted a snack, it would quickly lunge out to attack it.

Terran groaned under his breath as a wet schlick marked his well-worn boot sinking deep into the bog's treacherous mud. He shook his head in irritation and twisted at the hip, forcing his leg free. The boot broke the mud's surface with a pop, accompanied by the rancid stench of decaying flora and fauna. It had been this way since he landed, and the past few hours had seen him revisit the idea of abandoning the tournament at least a dozen times. Each time, though, he thought of Isshwarr's disapproving chiding. To the Mandalorian Wookiee, it made no difference that he had only signed up to chase a bounty - a bounty that had entered the tournament and never shown up. To her, what mattered was finishing what you started. To him, what mattered was not letting her down.

He reached into his voluminous duster and pulled out the bounty puck to study it. A member of the tournament staff had delivered it, saying only that it would lead to his next opponent. Of course, the normal target details that would show up on a bounty puck were missing. All it gave him was a location - somewhere in this Force-forsaken bog. Somewhere close, just to the east of his position. He looked that way, to the huge stone outcropping that cut off the view in that direction. Loosening his blasters in their holsters, he strode over to it and peeked around.

Surprise hit him as he glanced around the corner. Twenty meters away, standing atop the flaccid neck of a dead dragonsnake, was a monster of a Togorian. Well over two meters tall, the feline fighter seemed to be all bulky muscle and sharp fangs and claws. The primitive hunting armor - leather and chitin - should have seemed ridiculous when paired with the figure's high tech accessories, but here and now it seemed to make him fit into the savage bog. With a loud roar, Rajhin Cindertail - an unmistakable fixture of the Grand Master's Royal Guard - brought his sword down through the dragonsnake's neck, decapitating it. The blade sliced cleanly, driven by the Togorian's inhuman strength, and the head rolled from the body, stopping in a nearby depression. For the briefest of moments, Terran considered sniping the Togorian from a distance - a few well-placed stun bolts might end this right away. Just for a moment, though. Instead, the Kiffar stepped around the outcropping and cleared his throat noisily.

"Is that dinner, or are you just looking to add another trophy to your collection?"

The Togorian turned slowly to face him, slightly winded but with a clear eagerness on his feline features. Nimble fingers fished a long nondescript cloth from his dark cloak and wiped it down the length of his blade, cleaning the dragonsnake's blood from the sword. He tucked the cloth into his leather belt and hopped down lightly from the monstrous creature's back, feet barely sinking into the wet, muddy ground. For all his massive build and fierce features, Rajhin's smile appeared almost good-natured to Terran.

"Well met. You must be my opponent." He took a few steps toward the Kiffar, the cheerful hiss of his voice never faltering. "Are you here to quip, or are you here for the heat of combat and the glory of competition?" As he spoke, he gestured towards the severed reptilian head and floated it to his side. Without looking down, he affixed a makeshift adhesive to its scaly hide and attached it to the back of his belt next to the cloth.

Oh, Terran thought. He's one of those. He chuckled to himself. Isshwarr would approve, at least.

Terran took a few steps forward himself, sidestepping a small poisonous crab pretending to be a rock and pulling his left-hand WESTAR-35 from the holster at his back. A flick of his right wrist shot his lightsaber from its sheath and he snatched it from the air. It snap-hissed to life and he twirled it in a practiced circle, loosening up his wrist. Despite his reticence, he felt a smile creep across his lips, turning them up at the corners.

"Is there a third option, maybe a dragonsnake steak and a round of sabacc by a campfire? No?" The Togorian just stared at him, unamused, and Terran chortled to himself. "Well then, the glory of combat it is."

For a bare instant Rajhin's cool facade broke. "Perhaps *after* our glorious battle." Then he let out a feline roar and charged at the Kiffar. The intense focus and clarity of purpose on his whiskered features spoke to a being well-versed in bending the Force to his will. For his part, Terran leveled his blaster towards the creature, sighting down the barrel with a practiced and unhurried grace. Then he grabbed the poisonous crab with the Force and hurled it at his opponent.

Cindertail's slitted pupils widened slightly in surprise, caught off guard by the chitinous crustacean careening towards him. He reacted instinctively, batting it away with the back of his paw, and growled at the slight sting he felt from the creature's toxin as its spines punctured his skin. He ignored the pain - it was petty and inconsequential to a creature his size - and leapt towards the Kiffar. There was no doubting the predatory lineage of the Togorian species. It was writ in every strand of their DNA. He pounced like his ancestors might have pounced on their prey. Terran's head snapped back to follow the leap, at least three meters in the air, and he winced at the light glinting off the sharp claws - and sharper blade - heading down towards him.

Reaching out to the fecund jungle around him, he felt the Force suffuse his own limbs. He dropped his blaster and lightsaber, letting them fall to the soggy terrain, and spun with preternatural speed. His duster practically ripped itself from him and he shoved it with the Force, casting it at his opponent like a net. His lightsaber and blaster sailed back to his hands and he dodged out of the way as the brown armorweave duster wrapped itself around the Togorian, interrupting his leap. Rajhin slashed out with his sword, cutting free of the garment and landing in a graceful couch, but Terran was already up and moving. The Kiffar had put a dozen meters between the two combatants.

Rajhin growled in irritation and stalked implacably towards the Arconan. As he did, he flexed his off hand, retracting and extending his razor-sharp claws. His opponent might make a mockery of their combat - but that would only delay the inevitable. He was an unstoppable force and an immovable object. Their match could only end one way.

“Shame, I really liked that coat,” Terran muttered to himself as he moved deeper into the putrid Dagobah bog. It took no small amount of concentration for the Kiffar to find his footing and not sink into the mud as his boots squished with each step.

Terran’s focus in evading his opponent was interrupted by a guttural set of roars he immediately recognized as Shyriiwook. His brain raced to translate into Basic:

“CRY HAVOC AND LET SLIP THE DOGS OF WAR!”

The Kiffar almost stopped out of shock. Is he yelling Shak’sparr the bard at me? Terran was only passingly familiar with the works of the famous Wookiee playwright because of his longtime companion. Isshwarr would love this guy. His thoughts returned to sheer survival as the Shak’sparr quoting feline was quickly gaining on him. Have to keep this maniac cat at a distance, if he grabs me I’m toast. Terran quickly holstered his saber and blaster pistol then readied his M-5 blaster rifle, took a deep breath and called upon the currents of the Force to flow into his leg muscles. He made a superhuman leap across an inlet of nasty swamp water to a small patch of solid dirt held together by tree roots. While in the air he spun around and took aim at his pursuer while willing the Force to alter the effect of gravity on his body just enough for a soft landing.

Terran pulled the trigger and unleashed a barrage of precisely aimed blaster bolts at his target. The attack was successful at arresting Rajhin’s forward momentum but the former Fist weaved his Sith Sword in tight orbits around his massive body deflecting the shots.

“I HAVE NO WORDS, MY VOICE IS IN MY SWORD!”

The Arconan felt a surge of annoyance at the Togorian’s battlefield recitation of Wookiee literature. He switched the rifle to its integrated explosives launcher. “Well my voice is in this grenade!” Terran wasn’t as precise with the grenade launcher as he was with a blaster, but he didn’t need to be. The round landed a little short and exploded. The last thing he saw before the explosion was Rajhin reflexively crossing his arms to protect his torso.

Then the smoke cleared and Terran saw his opponent standing, seemingly unfazed as a translucent bubble around him flickered and dissipated.

”I AM AS CONSTANT AS THE NORTHERN STAR!”

“I’d give real credits if he’d shut up,” the Kiffar retorted as the launcher chambered another round. He noticed Rajhin flick his free hand and felt the rifle start to jerk out of his grip as if tugged by invisible hands. The struggle to maintain control of the rifle from telekinetic attack disrupted his aim and caused his finger to slip off the trigger. There was no time to fire off another round as the Togorian closed the distance. Terran dropped the rifle at his feet, then raised both hands toward his attacker, palms facing out and manifested a wave of translucent Force energy that crashed upon Rajhin with the impact of a hammer.

The former Fist had to stop and brace himself as the wave crashed over him. He grunted in pain as if he had taken one heck of a body blow but stood his ground. Terran felt a small twinge of satisfaction that his attack had derailed his opponent enough to stop the impromptu Shak’sparr performance. He readied his lightsaber with a two-handed grip and ignited the deep amber blade. Every instinct said to run and keep his distance but he wasn’t confident he could keep the boisterous Togorian from overtaking him. The Kiffar’s mind raced to come up with a plan for how to get out of this pickle.

Then, lady luck smiled upon the Arconan. Rajhin suddenly stopped and began to wince in pain, falling to one knee, closing his fist and holding up the arm which had been hit with the poisoned crab earlier. ”Thank you, Mister Crab,” Terran thought as he gave into the flight part of his fight or flight response. He stuck out his free hand behind him as he ran and summoned his discarded rifle to it. He took a quick glance behind to see Rajhin hadn’t moved and apparently was struggling with whatever effect the poison was having.

Terran felt a deep and distressing chill run down his spine as he traversed vines and tree roots. Something beckoned to him in the depths of the bog, something ancient, something dark. He came upon the mouth of what once appeared to be a cave, but the entrance was collapsed and the trees around it had been cut cleanly, albeit years ago from the looks of it. Someone had been here before and tried to bury whatever lurked under Dagobah’s surface. A warning from the Force told the Kiffar to turn around.

He saw something that froze him in his tracks. He saw someone, someone from his Jensaari past who shouldn’t be here.

For a moment, he was transported. The compound on Susevfi, the Saarai-kaar's sad frown, the disappointment in her eyes that had always seemed to hold infinite compassion. He could smell the cloying sweetness of the fall leaves tumbling into the Jensaarai compound's central fountain. The crisp air caused the thin hairs on his arms to stand on end and the susurrus of the branches overhead whispered the end of a life.

But just for a moment. He was no longer the child he had been. He had led soldiers in battle. He had judged guilt and innocence amongst his Clan. He had adopted a foundling. The mistakes of youth were far over the horizon. He turned away from the cave with a grunt and buried deep the impulse to run, an impulse that had never been his own.

He closed down his saber and resheathed it, then sprinted to a nearby outcropping of rock. He pressed hard against the damp, mossy surface and peered past the edge. His opponent's orange fur stood out in the drab palette of Dagobah's swamp as Rajhin stooped to wrap a bit of cloth around the wound left by the crustacean.

The Kiffar knew the odds were basically nil, but still he readied his WESTAR M5 blaster rifle and sighted down the electroscope at the Togorian. At least his size makes him an easy target. Terran's thumb brushed over the mode selector, verifying its position, and he breathed out. But even as his index finger tightened on the trigger, the Togorian reacted. The rifle blatted a trio of bolts at Cindertail and his Sith Sword intercepted them easily, deflecting the blue rings in random directions.

And then he was screaming poetry again.

"I'LL FIGHT TILL FROM MY BONES MY FLESH BE HACKED!"

"A bard, he's not," Terran murmured to himself, as the Odanite sprung to his feet and charged in his direction.

For all his talk, the ferocious feline's stride devoured the distance between the pair. Terran fired off another volley of stun bolts at him, but Cindertail barely faltered as he batted them away. He found himself reminded of his own favorite line, something about imitating the action of the tiger, and...sinews? Then the tiger was upon him.

The Togorian circled the rock outcropping as Terran turned to follow him. Claws and blade flashed in the moonlight, and he met the dual strike with his rifle, twirling it around its stock while moving it diagonally across his body to deflect the blow. The sword was knocked aside, but the claws raked across his neck, digging fiery furrows into his pale skin. Rajhin struck again and the Force suffused Terran's limbs. He ducked under the blow, dodging behind the taller Guardian with inhuman speed. He jumped and dropped the strap of his blaster around the Togorian's neck as he released the stock. Then he gripped it with the Force and twisted gravity itself. The blaster rifle, suddenly the weight of a small boulder, fell toward the rock outcropping. And the Togorian fell with it.

Cindertail grunted as he struck the rock, the air whooshing from his lungs - and more than air threatening to follow it up and out. He felt the way the Kiffar had folded space around the rifle, tricking gravity. It was a simple matter to reach out and-

Before he could complete the thought, a salvo of blaster bolts hit the magazine of high explosive rounds slung beneath the rifle's barrel. Thankfully for Cindertail, he had long since passed the point where thought was necessary for battle. He felt the Force tighten across his fur, danger's claws burrowing into him, and he manifested his will in turn. The defensive barrier sprung into place even as the triggering bolts left the barrels of the Kiffar's WESTAR-35 pistols.

The explosion was enough to shatter the barrier, but Cindertail was already moving. He leaped through the fireball and toward the Kiffar - or at least, where the Kiffar had been. The Force moved them both, and Terran had felt the counterattack even before the rifle exploded. Instead of flesh, the Togorian leapt through the flames and landed on a small white ball with a metallic stem - right as the adhesive grenade detonated.

The glue solidified in a fraction of a second and Terran ran in almost immediately. He knew he had a single shot at ending this in his favor - and without serious injury. For all his feral features, the Togorian had displayed remarkable control and thoughtfulness throughout their encounter. But he growled savagely now as he reached out with the Force to tear himself free. Terran had to preempt that opportunity. He flipped his blaster pistol into a reverse grip and brought the butt of the pistol down onto the Togorian's temple - at the same time as he hit the opposite temple with a hammer blow from the Force. The feline's roar cut off abruptly as he collapsed into a furry tangle of limbs and tail.

Terran looked down at Cindertail, respect lighting his dark blue eyes. "Fight to the last gasp, Guardian."

“Saarai'kaar?” Terran stammered with disbelief as the visage of his former superior in the Jensaari order stood before him. It couldn’t be her. The cortoris armor and cloak was unmistakable, as well as the profoundly disappointed scowl she glared at him with.

For a moment the visage of the Jensaari leader said nothing, then she pulled out her lightsaber and ignited the amber blade. “Exile,” she almost spat out the word with contempt and let it hang for a moment, “was too kind a fate. You’ve done nothing but disgrace us.”

“Great,” Terran remarked under his breath. He knew this couldn’t be real, but the stirring of negative emotion inside at the word “exile” certainly felt real. “Look, I’ve got a homicidal feline on my tail; we can work through my mommy issues some other time.” He readied his own lightsaber.

The visage of the Saarai’kaar dashed forward with a wide horizontal slash of her saber, which Terran blocked with a flash of light and a trickle of sparks falling into the wet ground.

“Okay, I guess we’re doing this,” the Arconan retorted as he held his lightsaber in a lock with his opponent’s.

Pain shot up Rajhin’s arm as he tried to will it into moving. Whatever toxin that crab had nicked him with was certainly effective. The muscles in the Togorian’s afflicted arm contracted sluggishly and only then with great effort. He rose to his feet and took up a one-handed grip on his Sith sword. This wasn’t the first time the former Fist had to fight one-handed, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. He headed in the last direction he'd seen Terran flee.

“To wilful men, the injuries that they themselves procure must be their schoolmasters.”

The immortal words of the great Wookie playwright Shak’spaar the bard popped into Rajhin’s head as he ruminated on how he had been thwarted by a casually cast contaminated crustacean. In all his years of experience, he still hadn’t learned to carry anti-toxins with him. At least the numbing toxin was localized in his arm, for now.

An icy chill ran up Rajhin’s spine as he delved deeper into the putrid bog. He recognized the sensation as a powerful presence in the dark side of the Force. The ambient fog in the area seemed to grow thicker as he pressed on. The Warlord couldn’t tell if it was the toxin or whatever the dark presence was, but his perception started to become hazy. Finally, he reached a clearing with cut trees and what looked like a collapsed cave.

“You let us die.”

Rajhin was confused by the voice that came from seemingly nowhere, speaking in a slow, mournful tone. “Come out! Enough with these tricks!”

A group of soldiers emerged from the fog wearing the various uniforms of the clans of the Brotherhood. As they got closer, the Togorian noticed that they had battle damage and showed signs of infection with the crystals used by the Children of Mortis. “You let us die,” the chorus of the damned repeated.

“STAY BACK!” Rajhin readied his sword with his free hand as the growing number of Brotherhood fallen shambled toward him. Their accusation cut him deeper than any blade could. He had just become Fist when the Fifteenth Great Jedi War began and had been forced to make the agonizing decision to defend Arx and delay reinforcing the clans as their territories burned. The resurfaced guilt made his chest feel like it was getting crushed by a mountain.

“You let us die,” the growing horde closed in on the former Fist and stopped in a wide circle around the clearing with the cut trees and collapsed cave. Rajhin shuffled around anxiously, like a cornered animal, keeping his sword pointed at the group as he moved. Then the circle parted for a large figure emerging from the otherworldly mist.

“You should have died,” the figure stated in the same tone as the group of soldiers had used. Rajhin recognized the figure as a twisted version of himself, in his old Fist armor, battle-worn and also infected with Mortis crystals. He spotted the hole in the armor where he had been stabbed by a Children of Mortis spear in the ethereal realm.

“BUT I DIDN’T!” Rage overtook the Togorian and melted away any survivor’s guilt this shade was trying to dredge up. He dashed forward with all the speed he could muster, parrying his shadow’s blows and probing its defenses. The clearing rang out with the sound of Sith steel hitting Sith steel within a ring of silent witnesses.

The Saarai'kaar suddenly moved faster and hit harder than Terran remembered. That served to reinforce the Kiffar’s determination to break out of this illusion. He dodged and parried until an opportunity for a counter presented itself and extended his free hand to unleash another telekinetic blow. The attack connected, sending his former master flying backward. Terran took advantage of the breathing room he had bought himself to try to calm his mind and focus on breaking whatever spell this place had put him under. He closed his eyes for a brief moment.

“This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real.”

The impromptu mantra worked, and Terran felt a rush of clarity as the currents of the Force began to flow around him without impediment. He opened his eyes and saw Rajhin standing up where the Saarai'kaar had just been thrown. Had he actually been fighting the Togorian the whole time?

“STOP HIDING BEHIND ILLUSIONS MORTIS SCUM!” the Togorian roared as he bounded toward Terran, brandishing his sword in one hand. His strikes were wild, imprecise, nothing like before. It still took all the Arconan had to dodge and parry the attacks. He knew he could not withstand an onslaught like this indefinitely, and his mind began to frantically try to come up with an exit plan.

Calling upon the Force, Terran reduced gravity upon his body as much as he could and leaped away from the rampaging feline. As he made a soft landing from his supernaturally long jump, the Kiffar deftly deactivated and stowed his lightsaber. He pulled out a sonic imploder and twisted it to activate. “Time to wake up.” Terran threw the device with Force-enhanced strength as it sailed past Rajhin. He covered his ears with both hands and ducked.

The sonic imploder detonated with a deep, reverberating bass, throwing mud, vines, and branches everywhere. The shockwave almost knocked Terran off his feet, but he had managed to protect his ears. Rajhin was not so lucky. The Togorian roared in pain and dropped his sword.

Terran readied his one stun grenade in a desperate attempt to seize the opportunity to end this fight. He activated it and threw it at Rajhin’s feet. The stun grenade emitted a blue ring of energy upon hitting the ground, which caused the Warlord to convulse and fall to the ground. Wasting no time, Terran pulled out his stun cuffs and started trying to secure them on his opponent.

“Man, you’re a big kitty,” the Arconan quipped as he had to heft Rajhin limp arms into position to be cuffed. Satisfied with his somewhat luck-based victory, the Kiffar held up his wrist-link. His clothes were caked in mud from the sonic imploder and running through the bog.

“Isshwarr, I’m going to need a pick up.” Terran paused for a moment and smiled as he looked down at the subdued Togorian. “I’ve got a bounty you’ll want to meet.”