Colonel Shanree Argentin vs. Master Windos

Located within the Moddell Sector of the Outer Rim territories, the Endor system is a well known location of much importance to the Galactic Civil War. This was the location of the destruction of the second Death Star, and the deaths of both Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader. It was this victory and this location that allowed the Rebel Alliance to become the New Republic.

The Forest Moon of Endor, designated IX3244-A, is the ninth moon of the planet Endor. Its surface is covered in dense forests of redwood trees. Several of these trees were connected via wood plank bridges and walkways by the local Ewok population, who made their homes within the trees, high above the forest floor.

You have arrived at night. The thick foliage of the trees blocks out almost all external light sources, making it very difficult to see without naturally or artificially enhanced vision, or at least some kind of light. The sounds of nearby streams can be heard, as well as the chirps of thousands of nearby insects and birds. As you begin to settle into the business that brought you here, the loud, startling “TOOO-ROOOO!” of some kind of horn rang out nearby... then another in the distance, and another.

The woods of the Sanctuary Moon were abuzz with life. All around him the night was filled with the hum and drone of tiny insects chirping and flitting about. To see as a Miraluka was to perceive the world through the Force, not with eyes detecting the reflection of light but with senses that gathered-in an abundance of information. Windos trod softly, his hood pulled up over his silvered hair and he listened, letting the cool air carry wafts of soil and foliage past him. Small twigs and fallen leaves crunched lightly under the tread of his boots, accompanied by the soft swish-swish of his jedi robes trailing along behind him.

There were other sounds in the night, other critters besides insects. The distant horns of Ewoks, the indigenous sentients of this moon, sounded with deep resonate bellows. The sound carried in the night air, bouncing between the thick trunks of the native red wood trees, making their approximate distance impossible to judge from the ground. Windos stopped to listen to the night, expanding his awareness within the Force to get a better lay of the land around him. Somewhere out here was a creature more dangerous than most. That creature crouched above him, still and silent.

Shanree Argentin watched the Jedi Master below him in the same way that Windos had looked around himself– not with biological eyes but with the Force. A Miraluka as well, Shanree perceived the world in a complex way informed by the mystical Force that bound all living things together. He silently observed the Jedi below him. The Headmaster of the Brotherhood was calm but tense, wound up with the anticipation of what was to come but practiced in stilling his body and mind with the Jedi arts. There was little doubt in the Colonel’s mind that he could take the man in a fight, he’d studied his dossier after all, but that did not mean he knew everything about him. A hunter was best served to watch his prey before choosing the right time to strike. Perched upon a tree limb a dozen meters above the forest’s floor, Shanree crouched motionlessly and quiet as a Durosian Mouse. He drew the Force into himself and blended into the background of the forest surrounding them filled with life. To the other Miraluka, seeing through the Force, he was all-but invisible.

Windos made his way forward into a small hollow. At the far end was a tangle of twisted durasteel and the now well-worn scars of its fall from the sky 44 years earlier when Luke Skywalker had destroyed the first of the Emperor’s Death Stars. The rain of flaming durasteel had reportedly wreaked havoc on the forest moon lighting enormous wildfires and extinguishing entire species of alien creatures. Time had a way of healing all wounds however and the forest itself proved resilient, though the worst of the devastation had missed this portion of the moon and the twisted pile of durasteel was its only remaining sign post.

Shanree slipped down from his perch, landing upon silent feet. He moved with great stealth, picking his foot placements carefully. He moved like a shadow, a void moving in the nighttime cover of the dense forest. Windos’s head moved around as he entered the hollow, as if he were looking around him, but he did not sense the approach of the Taldryanite special operator. Shanree reached over his shoulder, grasping one of his Wroshyr wood hilts and pulled it noiselessly from its sheath. His leg muscles coiled, and fueled by preternatural strength, they launched him forward.

Windos reacted instantly. He did not know where the attack was coming from but the tingle down his spine told him it was coming nonetheless. An experienced soldier, he threw himself into a pivoting spin without hesitation. A round light-shield crackled to life as he spun and drew his lightsaber. Shanree’s initial attack, the mass of his Wroshyr wood light saber hilt used like a fighting stick, glanced off of the shield with a cracking thunk. He effortlessly transitioned to a follow-up attack by igniting the light saber blade of his weapon and thrusting its point towards his target. Almost noiselessly the emerald blade emerged from the hilt, but Windos turned away its tip with his shield, returning the thrust with one of his own. Shanree spun out of the way and whipped his own weapon back around, only for it to be blocked by the other Miraluka’s blade. The Headmaster bent his head down and put his shoulder behind his shield and surged forward. Off guard, Shanree took the shield on the chest and stumbled backwards.

“It was a good try, assassin,” Windos spat as Shanree regained his footing a couple meters from him.

The older Miraluka grinned behind his armored face mask, “What gave me away?”

Windos said nothing, but as if to answer on his behalf the wind chose that moment to gust. The Jedi Master’s heavy cloak barely noticed the breeze as he stood there with the mass of his body behind his light shield, “There’s no need for banter, let’s do what we came here to do.”

Shanree said nothing. He lowered his off-hand to the small of his back and drew a second forearm-length Wroshyr wood lightsaber hilt. The older Miraluka sank into a fighting stance as a second, matching, green blade arose from it. They stood there in the Endor night without moving, neither seeing the eerie emerald glow of Shanree’s lightsabers illuminating the forest hollow around them but both perfectly perceiving the other. Shanree was first to make a move. His dual sabers were a blur of motion. Windos expertly blocked and parried with his saber and shield. He kept looking for an opening, a way to take his opponent off-balance and change the momentum of the fight but the older, more experienced Shanree was seemingly indomitable and his attacks relentless.

Shanree struck low forcing Windos to similarly block low with his saber. The Colonel quickly thrust his other hand forward, striking the Headmaster with an unseen fist. Knocked off balance Windos hurled his light-shield at his opponent. Propelled by force-imbued strength it flew past Shanree’s head as he ducked under it. In the air it slowed and stopped before coming back at Shanree from behind. Windos’s hand had closed on something invisible and He pulled it back towards himself, causing the flying shield to hurl itself at the Colonel from behind. Its blunt impact was entirely unexpected, and though it did little enough damage through his light armor, Shanree was caught off-guard by Windo’s offensive turn. The Headmaster’s black-cored lightsaber thrummed and whooshed as he swung it at the Taldryanite keeping Shanree on the back foot.

It was Shanree’s turn to defend himself. The light shield lifted itself from the ground and flew back to its master’s hand as his flurry of strikes sought to keep Shanree off-balance. He attempted a riposte only to be rebuffed by the shield, and was answered by a jabbing strike that caught him in the forehead– the light-shield’s rim contacting his armored helmet. Again, the strike didn’t do much to harm him but the Colonel growled with frustration. He deactivated one of his lightsabers and plunged in close to Windos, dodging under a decapitating strike. He wove his Wroshyr wood hilt in between the man’s legs and wrenched, toppling him to the ground. Shanree put his weight behind his still-ignited saber and plunged it into the ground but missed the Headmaster who rolled away at the last moment.

Windos picked himself up from the ground in a scramble and attempted to get an attack in with his weapon. Shanree spun and his boot impacted the man’s hand, knocking his saber from it. He wasted no time and set upon the Headmaster with a renewed assault with both of his lightsabers. Every time Windos tried to move around him and summon his lightsaber, Shanree would move to keep himself between them and to keep Windos too busy to call the weapon back to his hand. It was all the Headmaster could do to duck, dive, dodge, and block the Colonel’s onslaught of attacks. Several of Shanree’s attacks got through his vigorous defense however, but to Shanree’s chagrin the tips of his lightsabers buzzed angrily as they were met by a personal defense force field rather than flesh. The shield crackled in response and gave up with an audible pop and crack as the unit short-circuited. Windos angrily grabbed at the device on his belt and hurled it away.

Panting, Windos held the light shield between him and Shanree, wary of the next round of attacks, “Not bad, not bad… Your lightsaber form is good, but I heard you know Teras Kasi.”

Shanree grunted, a little surprised the Shadow Academy’s head docent had a file on him, “I studied under Broos Ri. I read in your dossier that you know some Echani?”

Windos betrayed no emotion but Shanree sensed a mild amusement from him, “I took a class or two. Show me your martial arts.”

Shanree was himself amused; He allowed his target to slowly reach behind him and draw out a long metal baton with a spherical jewel from his belt. The Headmaster twirled it in his hand to test its weight and limber up his arm. The Colonel chuffed and deactivated his lightsabers so that he only held his matching Wroshyr wood hilts in his hands. He spun them performatively as he sank into a distinctive Teras Kasi fighting stance.

“It's funny, I know what your play is,” Shanree said from behind his armored mask, taking a deep breath to recharge his stamina, “but I don’t care. I live for this sort of thing.”

"Good."

Windos stopped twirling the scepter. His right hand still throbbed where Shanree's boot had struck it. He tightened his grip and pointed the jeweled head towards his opponent.

Shanree struck it aside and stepped inside its reach.

The first wooden hilt cracked against Punga. Windos turned the shield to catch it, and the second hilt struck his forearm. Before he could bring the scepter around, a knee drove into his thigh. His leg buckled but he caught his weight on the other foot and thrust the shield forward.

Shanree yielded under the heavier man's shove, then slipped around its edge. An elbow hammered Windos' ribs. His armor spread the impact, but the breath left him in a grunt.

Windos swung for the Colonel's knee. Shanree stepped over the scepter and rapped the Headmaster's knuckles with a hilt.

The fingers spasmed. Windos clamped them shut before the weapon could fall. He crowded Shanree again, denying him the space for another clean strike. Their weapons scraped together. Windos drove through the contact with his shoulder, forcing the taller man to turn rather than hold his ground.

Behind Shanree, Matau stirred in the leaves.

The Colonel's head remained facing Windos. One boot slid back and hooked Matau, flicking the weapon farther away.

"You'll have to do better than that."

Windos answered with the scepter. Shanree pinned the shaft against his forearm with a hilt and twisted. Pain flared through the Headmaster's wrist. Instead of fighting the leverage, Windos released his grip.

The scepter hung between them for an instant, then wrenched sideways under an invisible pull. Shanree let it go before it could drag his arms across his body. Windos caught it again behind his shield.

Windos risked a moment to allow the warmth of the Force to seep through his injured fingers. The swelling subsided, and his grip steadied.

Shanree let his next strike brush the restored grip, testing it. Then his boot drove toward Windos' knee.

Windos turned Punga downward, catching the boot on its rim. Shanree pushed off the shield and landed beyond the scepter's reach. Both green blades sprang silently from their hilts.

The Headmaster sent a crushing weight through the air toward him.

Shanree sprang aside. The blow smashed into the ground where he had stood, scattering soil and snapping an exposed root. His escape carried him clear of the line between Windos and the fallen lightsaber.

Windos clipped the scepter back onto his harness. Matau flew into his waiting hand.

He caught Shanree's returning attack with the black-cored blade.

This exchange felt familiar. Windos kept his movements close, turning each strike just far enough to miss flesh. Punga covered the angles his lightsaber could not. His boots worked through the churned leaves in short steps, never crossing.

Shanree attacked from above, then below, using a root as a springboard to change sides. Each landing became another strike. Windos answered with a cut toward the forearm rather than the throat. The Colonel withdrew it before the blade arrived and retaliated against his saber hand.

Punga caught the green blade. Windos felt the impact through his elbow.

Shanree was learning where he preferred to put that shield.

A horn sounded beyond the hollow. Neither man turned.

Their circling brought them alongside a massive chunk of wreckage. Wet moss covered the lower plates and torn ribs of metal leaned against a redwood's trunk. Windos stepped beneath one of them, forcing Shanree to approach across a narrower strip of ground.

The Colonel returned one hilt to its sheath.

Windos planted his feet as blue-white forks burst from Shanree's free hand.

A translucent shell curved around Windos. The discharge struck it and spread across its surface in branching threads. His jaw tightened under the effort. Beyond the edges of the shell, the tendrils of Force-imbued energy arced to a durasteel plate. The moss that spotted it smoked.

Shanree stopped the discharge. For two breaths he stood almost still, drawing on the life surrounding the hollow. The tension eased from his shoulders. His breathing settled.

Windos lowered the shell. He had earned himself a pause, but his opponent had made better use of it.

Shanree drew the sheathed hilt, ignited it, then swiftly tested the narrow approach with a low sweep.

Windos caught it on Matau and drove Punga toward his chest. The Colonel pivoted around the shield, bringing his other blade across the Headmaster's shoulder.

Fabric scorched. The metal woven beneath it resisted long enough for Windos to wrench away. Heat bit his skin.

Shanree could work here. He had simply made his movements smaller.

Windos had room to leave a gap. Instead, he advanced, bringing his weight behind the shield. Shanree met him with a thrust that forced Matau across his body. The second blade scraped Punga's edge, searching for the wrist behind it.

Windos held his ground and pressed his will against the currents feeding Shanree's strength.

The Colonel's next burst of speed faltered. His blades remained precise, but drawing on the Force now demanded effort. He settled his feet and closed the distance without another leap.

Windos could feel the pressure of maintaining that interference. He kept it there anyway.

Shanree angled one blade toward Windos' knees and raised the other beside his shield.

Windos lifted Matau and stepped into the Colonel's reach.

The air hissed and there was a dull thwat on the Headmaster’s shoulder armor. Windos’s attack faltered as something then impacted his shield, rebounded into the back of his head protection, and clattered off to the ground bouncing against a durasteel girder as it went.

“What the…” he murmured in momentary confusion.

Shanree’s hand shot out and snatched something out of the air that would have buried itself in the soft of the Headmaster’s neck, between his armored helmet and chest protection. The Colonel turned the long shaft so that they could both study it in profile. It was a diminutive arrow. From either side of the hollow the sound of Ewok horns bellowed and they were unmistakable close. To-too-rooon! Too-too-rooon! The horns filled the night air with their blasts and were joined by the high pitched cheers and screams of the moon’s little bear-like natives.

Shanree’s green sabers spun into action. Within moments he’d cut several more shafts out of the air. Windos, likewise, flitted his black-cored lightsaber through the air, defending himself from the whistle and buzz of arrows. The attacks shot out of the darkness beyond the hollow, back in the heavily foliaged forest around them where the Ewoks crouched and hid behind trees, brush, amongst the canopy. They could be heard whooping and yelling as the Miralukans defended themselves against this new danger.

Shanree twirled his off-hand saber and sliced through an arrow meant for Windos’ back. As he turned and cut another destined for his torso, he perceived the Headmaster doing the same. The Colonel’s emerald lightsabers swung ceaselessly, one movement flowing into another regardless of the paths they cut through the twisted wreckage of the Death Star around them. The tips of his blades passed through durasteel, splashing sparks out into the cool night and leaving glowing orange-white gouges where they’d been.

Windos continued to block the arrows with his saber and shield but passed up several opportunities to thin out the number of attackers around them. Instead, he angled to press himself further into the wreckage, away from easy shots by the expert bowmen. This dragged Shanree further in with him lest he become the sole focus of the Ewoks.

“What’s your plan, Headmaster?” Shanree called after the Jedi, “They aren’t going to stop.”

Windos barely gave him any attention, “The Force will provide.”

The Colonel, certainly not one to leave things to chance, was about to say something biting back but he was beaten to the punch by his comlink. Both men received the brief message bearing the Combat Master’s distinctive voice, “Your evac shuttle is arriving, Gentlemen. Unfortunately there is only room for one of you aboard it. Better get moving.”

A Lambda shuttle swept across the sky at a leisurely pace ensuring that the two combatants had plenty of time to find and track its direction. Shanree’s head moved in the direction of Windos, and he was met by Windos’s eyeless face looking back at him. Neither man spoke, they knew what the other was thinking. Windos acted first this time. He pushed his light-shield and saber wielding hands outward. Shanree wrapped himself in the Force as a tremendous wave of unseen energy crashed over him. He struggled to keep his feet under its might, but his barrier dissipated and redirected most of its fury. Behind him girders groaned as they were upended and twisted in place, a small cloud of dust extended its way out the other end of the wreckage and into the small hollow.

Windos bolted. He didn’t need to kill the Taldryanite to reach the shuttle and extract. He’d experienced enough of the Colonel to know that the older man was the better fighter. He wasted no time attacking or further hindering Shanree, and instead he made for the shuttle's landing zone. Darting in between the fallen wreckage, he was soon free of its tangled mass and back in the hollow where the hiss of flying arrows and the chatter of unseen Ewoks again found him. The Headmaster fueled his legs with the Force and he moved with supernatural speed, throwing the capable hunters of Endor off of their aim.

From behind him, Windos heard the angry screeching of lightsabers rending metal followed by a great tumult of crashing durasteel. Shanree flew up and out of the tangled wreckage into the night sky. Momentarily he was silhouetted against the night sky and the planet of Endor which the moon orbited. The Headmaster groaned with frustration, swinging his lightsaber around his torso to fend off a few arrows, before continuing his dash out of the hollow and into the thick of the forest. Shanree hit the ground running, his emerald blades swinging to-and-fro as he ran, occasionally blocking an attack that might have found its target.

He could perceive the younger Miraluka dozens of meters ahead of him. Shanree watched as the Jedi dodged around two Ewoks who attempted to ambush him with a net, sending a third flying off into some brush with an “Ayieeeeeeee!”.

Shanree flicked his wrist and the two net draggers were thrown against one-another when the net-between them decided to pull itself violently away. He leapt over their dark shapes as they rolled on the ground moaning in pain. Windos, now only several dozen meters ahead, dived and weaved around trees. The Colonel wound up an arm and hurled one his lightsabers ahead of his prey. The green blade spun through the cool air and sliced its way through two good-sized trees before arcing around back towards its owner. Shanree caught the lightsaber hilt expertly as the trees fell across Windos’s path.

Windos didn’t miss a beat and leapt. His feet raced down the length of one of the trees while it was still in the process of falling. Their trunks hit the ground one-after another with resounding booms and the crack of felled timber. The Headmaster lunged over the tree’s fallen canopy top, clearing it easily, but stumbled upon landing as a bola, made of twisted twine and weighted with small stones, wrapped itself around his ankle. An Ewok warrior emerged from the canopy of the fallen tree, where he’d been perched before the tree had fallen, and he set upon the Jedi with an obsidian dagger. The creature was small, but his mass brought the two of them to the ground, forcing Windos to wildly defend with his arms to keep the Ewok’s blade from finding soft flesh. It scraped against armor several times before he managed to get a good grip on the warrior’s leather bandolier, and he used it to hurl the alien sideways off of him.

Shanree was upon him. The Colonel hurled himself into the air and brought the saber in his main hand down in a plunging strike. Windos rolled out of the way but he had to let go of the light-shield to save his arm. Shanree’s lightsaber pierced the shield, pinning it to the ground, and only just missing Windos’s hand. Shanree followed up with an arcing vertical sweep intended to cleave the fallen Jedi in two, but Windos managed to bring his own lightsaber up over him to block it just in time. He lay on his back, on the forest floor, holding the Colonel’s emerald lightsaber half an arm’s length from his head and shoulders.

Shanree flicked his lightsaber and disarmed the Headmaster of his blade. He left the Jedi and dashed off, now ahead of him in the race to the shuttle’s landing zone. An invisible hand grabbed his foot and pulled. Shanree hit the ground face first and the breath was knocked from his lungs. Windos, now on his feet, ran for it. Shanree ground his teeth at that and pushed himself up and hurled one of his lightsabers sidearmed. Windos turned and battled it back with his black-cored saber, summoned back to his hand just in time. Shanree was already in the process of throwing his second when the first returned to him. He caught it and repeated his attack.

Windos, using both hands, stumbled backwards as he deflected the thrown weapons again and again. As quickly as the Headmaster deflected one throw Shanree was following up with another. Windos swept upwards with both hands on his saber hilt and caught one of Shanree’s thrown lightsabers in its haft. The Wroshyr wood yielded slowly to the lightsaber’s blade but its emerald blade flickered and vanished in a pop and crackle of the weapon’s circuitry overloading or melting.

The Headmaster turned. He just had to reach the shuttle. Shanree was hot on his heels, doggedly leaping over fallen trees and minor obstacles to catch the Jedi. Windos burst from the treeline into a wide clearing where the whine of thrusters and the off-gasing of various systems from the ship could be easily heard. It was just 50 more meters to the ship’s ramp. The engines sounded as though they were primed. Shanree crashed from the treeline moments later at a dead sprint. His legs were tired, his muscles were screaming, but he demanded more of them and drew on the Force to fuel his speed.

Windos reached the foot of the ramp only to feel something grab his ankle and pull it out from under him. Shanree wretched hard with the Force, pulling the Headmaster back towards him. He leapt, seeking to jump over the man and make it to the ship but he was instead slammed to the ground as well. Windos scrambled over him, pushing the Colonel’s helmeted face into the soil as he pushed himself forward towards the ramp. Shanree grabbed for the Jedi’s cloak and pulled him back down, grappling for a dominant position as the larger man rolled on top of him. The younger Miraluka tried to use his mass to subdue the Taldryanite, but Shanree’s knees kept him at a distance as he bore down on him and his hands were faster than the Headmaster’s. Every punch was redirected, every elbow was absorbed with two forearms and his coiled biceps. Windos grabbed at him, forcing his helmeted head up and under Shanree’s chin.

Heaving his lower body, Shanree pressed Windos off of the top of him before he could lock in his new advantage, and in a heartbeat he had reversed the situation. Windos was unprepared for what came next; Shanree’s remaining Wroshyr wood hilt rained down on him savagely. At first, the Jedi’s hands sought to fend off the attacks but after the first serious blow to his head, Windos’s reactions and attempts to defend himself grew less effective. By the third and fourth blows to his head, it was clear he was no longer capable of seriously protecting himself, his arms moved sluggishly and with little relation to what Shanree was doing. The Colonel held his opponent to the ground for a long moment before he was sure. Shanree left Windos laying there as he stood up.

His body hurt. Everything screamed for more oxygen. His sinews angrily complained of torn muscles. Shanree panted for air as he stumbled onto the ramp and looked backwards. The shuttle’s thrusters began to whine and their pitch grew in intensity as the pilot prepared for take off. Windos lay there, vaguely looking up at the ramp and grasping at the air dumbly with a hand that had seen better days. He was pathetic, but alive.

“Frell…” Shanree stumbled back down to the ramp and hooked his arms under Windos’s. He dragged him onto the ramp just in time as the shuttle began to take off.

The ramp did not begin to close until he’d pulled him a ways up its length, but they were both safely in the cabin by the time it sealed. Shanree left Windos on the deck as he plopped himself into a crash seat, entirely exhausted. Windos, barely conscious, grabbed his legging and pulled weakly. Shanree leaned over and removed the hand, gently placing it on the Jedi’s own chest.

Matau caught the blade aimed at Windos' knees while Punga blocked the higher strike. Windos drove forward, shoulder first.

Shanree turned with the impact, his boots scraping against durasteel. He was slower this time, though his next strike forced Windos to twist aside before he could shove again.

The pressure Windos maintained was working. Each burst of speed cost Shanree more effort, but he still found room to move through the gaps Windos left.

Windos followed with a short cut that Shanree caught close to his hilt. The black-cored blade hissed against treated wood without biting through, and a turn of Shanree's wrist sent it wide.

The other green blade grazed Windos' upper arm before Punga could cover it. Once again the woven metal beneath his robes held, though heat reached his flesh through the blackening fabric.

Windos drew a sharp breath through his teeth, but there was no time to heal the burn. Shanree kept him busy with alternating high and low strikes, forcing him to shift Punga with each one.

Neither had room for a broad swing. Torn metal hung too low for another leaping attack, and Windos had to maneuver Punga between its jagged edges and the trunk beside him.

He could still back out and make Shanree follow him into the open, but he stepped farther in.

He released his grip on the currents feeding Shanree and bent that effort toward Punga. The shield grew heavier against his forearm as he drove it across the Colonel's guard.

Shanree began to turn, but the rim caught his left wrist before he could pull it clear. His fingers opened around the hilt, sending the weapon tumbling onto a moss-covered plate, and his breath escaped through clenched teeth.

Windos had heard that sound from patients who had tried to break a fall with an outstretched hand. The wrist was already swelling.

Windos brought Punga around again, intending to drive Shanree against the wreckage and end the fight without killing him. He kept Matau ready to intercept the remaining blade as he put his weight behind the shield.

Shanree kept his injured hand tucked against his chest. Windos felt the Force gather around Punga and tried to drag his elbow down, but the shield rose, pulled upward from beneath the rim. His weight was already too far forward for him to brace against the pull.

Windos held on and hauled his elbow inward, trying to force Punga back between them. The shield scraped the metal rib overhead, leaving the space beneath his raised arm exposed.

Shanree stepped into the gap, caught Matau near the base of the blade, and slid along the bind. He turned until Windos' lightsaber met the wood of his hilt, then extinguished the green blade and drove the hilt forward.

Windos tried to turn, but his shoulder struck the redwood. Shanree's knee caught his advancing leg before he could get his feet under him.

The wooden hilt hit beneath his jaw with strength borrowed from the Force. His head snapped back against the durasteel, and the forest vanished before he could cushion the impact.

The rush of a stream filled Windos' ears as he came to. It sounded strangely close until he began to hear insects skittering nearby and became aware of the ache in his head.

He lay on wet leaves beside the wreckage. Punga and Matau rested just out of reach, both deactivated. Shanree crouched nearby, his hilts sheathed, supporting his injured wrist.

Windos reached for his lightsaber.

"You were out," the Colonel said. "You lost."

His hand fell back to the wet leaves. He remembered the shield lifting and how hard he'd fought to pull it down.

He set a hand against his neck and drew the Force through the injuries beneath his jaw and at the back of his skull. He stayed on the ground until the pain eased enough for him to sit upright.

"Give me your hand."

Shanree tilted his head, then extended the swollen wrist. Windos moved closer and supported it between his palms, keeping the joint still while warmth passed into the strained tissue.

The tension eased beneath Windos' thumb, and Shanree's fingers relaxed. Beyond the wreckage, another horn sounded among the trees.

"You could have let go of the shield," Shanree said.

Windos kept his attention on the wrist until the swelling subsided, then pressed his thumb against the joint to check for tenderness.

"And you could have stopped hitting me."

"You kept coming."

Windos turned the wrist to check its movement, then released it.

"Next time, try not to catch a shield with that."