Legend Zig Kaliska vs. Anselm Valreyes

Located within the Abafar System of the Outer Rim Territories, Abafar is a desolate desert system know mostly for its large amount of rhydonium. The Void is a vast expanse of blinding white sands stretching across the system’s surface, an endless wasteland where the horizon fades into a haze of heat and dust. The landscape is almost entirely devoid of landmarks, its pale dunes and barren rock formations blend together until the eye can no longer distinguish one from the next. Under the relentless sun, the air shimmers and distant shapes waver like ghosts, offering false promises of shelter or solid ground. Out here, a traveler can walk for hours convinced they are following a familiar route, only to realize that nothing around them has changed.

Scattered settlements such as Pons Ora provide some respite from the emptiness, but their presence is a fragile comfort. Beyond the last outlying structures, the Void swallows every trace of civilization. Footprints disappear beneath drifting sand, distant lights prove impossible to reach, and the silence is broken only by the wind sweeping across the barren expanse. Without reliable navigation, even an experienced traveler can lose their bearings, wandering in circles while the settlement they seek grows no closer. The white sands offer no shelter from the heat, and water becomes more precious with every passing hour.

There is something deeply unsettling about the Void’s sheer emptiness. Nothing marks the passage of time, and nothing assures those who enter that they are moving in the right direction. A distress signal may go unanswered. A stranded vessel may remain unseen despite lying only a short distance away. Those who disappear into the wastes are rarely found, leaving little behind to suggest they were ever there at all. On Abafar, getting lost is not simply a matter of losing one’s way. It is the slow realization that the world has become so vast, so empty, that it may never give you back.

“THAT SURE IS A LOT OF SAND, ZIG”

“Mhm.”

“IT MUST REALLY SUCK HAVING TO WALK THROUGH IT.”

“Mhm.”

“BOY DOES THAT HORIZON SURE SEEM ENDLESS, ZIG”

Technically speaking, a spherical planet cannot be endless because it is a closed, bounded three-dimensional object with a calculable, finite volume and surface area...

Zig ignored the droid and artificial intelligence’s banter, her thoughts lingering on her annoyance at the Combat Master’s choice of venue. When she had said “give me a clean one-vee-one match with no gimmicks,” she hadn’t actually meant a barren void.

Clive was right, of course. The ‘void’ was just the trick of atmospheric refraction—a clean, logical explanation for an unseemly tear in the grid. Yet, having walked through the Ethereal Realm, she knew better than to trust physics alone—the galaxy was teeming with wonders and horrors that defied any rational scale.

Scientific theory aside, Clair did have a valid point about the terrain. Despite her suit’s seal, sand had somehow managed to worm its way into Zig’s joints and even inside her boots. The ground was even though, and the lack of dunes or peaks had made the walk more dull than daunting.

What was more unnerving, however, was the silence. It stretched out like a great big sheet, blanketing away any ambience that should have been present in a world with a breathable atmosphere. Even for someone that literally lived aboard a spaceship, the Voidbreaker II was filled with the familiar ambience of hums— generators, servos, and the buzz of vidscreens and projectors. Here, there was a definitive ‘lack’ of any kind of sound, but she could obviously hear and chide Clive or Clair.

Weird.

She had to get creative with her scan pulse. That required reversing the pulse's polarity and tweaking the frequency waves so that she could remotely ping it from her datapad… as long as it remained plugged into the shuttle where she had left it. Those short exchanges of signals would be enough to help her find her way back. Hopefully.

According to her HUD, she was getting close to the designated coordinates. In what had become a predictable pattern for the Combat Master, Vincent had neglected to inform Zig who she would be fighting. So she had geared up as she had for every previous bout and kept grumbling to herself for fear of her words somehow coming back to bite her. After using her equipment…creatively in the last match, she had to work quickly to get everything patched up in time for this one.

As if on cue, a familiar figure approached through the haze of heat waves. Zig sighed heavily.

“Hey, Kaliska,” Anselm Valreyes greeted with a casual wave, his smile stretching the scar on his cheek.

“HI ANSELM.” Princess Eclair bounced excitedly in the air as she returned the greeting. “YOU LOOK MUCH BETTER THAN LAST WE SAW YOU”.

Zig winced behind her helmet. Don’t antagonize the space sorcerer, Clair, she thought.

Valreyes, for his part, just chuckled and seemed to let the comment slide. “Indeed, I feel much more myself. I owe you both, actually, so thank you for that,” he said with a short bow.

“SEE ZIG? IT’S NOT THAT HARD TO BE POLITE.”

Zig felt a muscle in her cheek twitch.

“No problem, just glad you’re okay.”

Anselm nodded at that, his violet eyes seeming to pierce through her visor to study her own. “Still, it seems like destiny that we get to fight properly this time.”

There was no malice in what little presence Zig could instinctively sense from the Elder Sorcerer. Just the determined look on his angular features and the confidence in his stance as his hand moved to his belt to draw his lightsaber hilt without igniting it.

“Destiny ain't got nothing to do with it, bud,” Zig replied calmly, slowly drawing her beskad blade and bending at the knees into a dueling crouch. She made sure to keep the blade raised to protect her face. She kept her wrist loose but her fingers tight on the hilt. “But let’s have a proper tilly, yeah?”

Princess Eclair, to her credit, backed away in acknowledgement of Zig’s unspoken desire to fight this battle on her own merit. For now.

Words were wind. Anselm’s orchid blade snap-hissed to life. The two Arconans exchanged a friendly nod and then surged toward one another like diametric waves. Sparks flew as plasma pressed against beskar and Zig took to the offensive, keeping light on her feet while weaving and swinging her blade at her opponent. Anselm moved in time, his footwork matching the alacrity of her own.

She had to be patient and precise. She couldn’t exert herself too much, couldn’t over extend or leave herself vulnerable. So while she managed to get him to cede some ground, Valreyes effortlessly parried or danced just outside of reach of any of the Zygerrian’s strikes. With a grunt, Zig slashed aggressively in front of her with momentary abandon—only to then drop the ruse, ball her fist, and launch of a string of flame towards the man’s face. Anselm was ready for the gambit, however, and with a motion from his free hand bent the flame harmlessly aside.

Just as Zig had hoped he would.

Zig cut the flow of the flame and then snapped the back of her gauntlet into Anselm’s face with the back of her hand. The blow was not powerful, but was quick and enough to stagger the man backward a few paces. The Zygerrian tried to capitalize on the strike, but found herself flying backwards as a shove from the Force connected with her chestplate.

The added weight from Zig's armor aided her in anchoring herself back down the ground. She dug her heels in and bent her knees once again into a protective stance.

“Not bad,” Anselm offered, rubbing his jaw as nonchalantly as if checking for a stray smudge of dirt.

Metal and flesh don’t mix well. Anselm’s cheek testified to that. He couldn’t help but smile, though. When he thought of their fight in the small padded room, he felt regret over his actions. Yes, his mind had been altered by the effects of Vincent Brujah’s smoke, but he still nearly burned Zig to death and destroyed her droid. He’d had no control over himself…again. Now, though, he had the opportunity to fight her again without going batshit crazy.

​ In the distance, he could hear a faint, smug-sounding electronic whir. NIX, his ID10 seeker droid, was floating about 20 meters away, watching and recording the spectacle. Even from this distance, though, Anselm knew that it was laughing at him. He shook his head in annoyance, then turned his attention back to Zig, grinning at his friend.

​ “This is fun, Zig. But let's see how much you like sand.”

​ Anselm dug deep, using his regret and dismay as fuel. While not as powerful as rage, it was enough, and the Human channeled the Force. With a sharp upward movement of his hand, he sent a wave of telekinetic power into the ground. The white sand underneath Zig’s feet began to shake, and before the Zygerrian could move out of the way, the desert floor below her exploded upwards. A towering plume of powdery silt rose into the air nearby, filling the nooks and crannies of her clothes and armor as it searched for any purchase it could take hold in.

​ “ZIG, I DON’T LIKE THIS! IT’S A LOT OF SAND!”

​ Princess Eclair found herself zooming farther away, nearly caught in the blast. Anselm wasn’t keen on injuring the droid, but keeping her away was all part of the plan. Inside the cloud of sand, Zig fought to clear the grit out of her sight. The desert's oppressive heat and the heavy cloud of airborne sand rendered her helmet's infrared imaging unreliable. Her vision was compromised, but she had a trick up her sleeve. She hoped.

​ “Clive, Clair! A little help here, please!”

​ Activating pulse scan now.

​ Her suit's AI activated the pulse scanner, sending an invisible wave through the shifting dust. The returning signal placed Anselm several feet beyond the cloud's edge.

​ From this distance, you won't be able to hit him through the dust cloud. I would recommend you get out first. ​

“That’s your big idea, huh? Escape the dust cloud?” ​

You didn’t ask for a big idea. I merely offered the easiest solution to your current dilemma. ​

“ZIG, HE’S LAUGHING OUT HERE! I THINK HE FINDS YOUR FLAILING ABOUT FUNNY. IT'S VERY RUDE! YOU SHOULD STOP DOING THAT!” ​

“Dammit, you two! You’re not helping!” Zig bent forward, aiming herself toward Anselm. She had an idea, a reckless one. “Clive, power up thrusters. We’re going straight for him.” ​

I would warn you against this course of action. The likelihood of damaging your own equipment is 72.856% ​

“Just do it!” ​

Zig’s jetpack burst to life, the twin thrusters shooting her straight out of the storm. She flew towards Anselm like a flesh missile. The Human barely had time to register what was happening before she barreled into his chest, knocking his lightsaber out of his grip. The hilt went careening down a nearby dune. The two Arconans hurtled through the air before sand clogged the jetpack’s intake vents and the thrusters sputtered. Anselm fell first, hit the sand hard, and rolled across the white grains before stopping. Zig's malfunctioning jetpack carried her several meters farther before finally dying, sending her crashing into the sand well away from her opponent. ​

Anselm felt pain. Taking high-speed beskar to the chest had definitely bruised him. Every breath he took sent a sharp ache through his ribs. The wind had been knocked out of him, and he rolled onto his stomach, groaning as he recovered. The rough sand scored his exposed skin and burned to the touch as the sun beat down from overhead. Slowly, the Human regained his composure and rose to his feet. Looking around, he couldn’t see his weapon. ​

“Well, frak. NIX, come on out here, please?” ​

From a short but safe distance away, the seeker droid approached, making a series of buzzing sounds that conveyed a clear message. It was, again, laughing at Anselm, and enjoying his suffering. ​

“Shut up and go find my lightsaber, please. Adele’s gonna kill me if I lose that thing. The materials aren’t cheap.” He groaned in pain as he spoke. ​

The droid responded again, complaining about finding a ‘needle in a white sea of nothingness’. When its master didn’t respond, it floated off, heavily annoyed. Anselm breathed in deeply, taking a moment to channel the Force again and fill his body. He wasn’t adept at healing, but he could stave off the worst of the pain for a time. There was still a fight to win. ​

Quick, approaching footsteps shook him from his channeling as Zig, who’d recovered far more easily than he had, rushed him. Her beskar blade in hand, she closed the distance between them. Anselm quickly drew his kyuzo petar daggers, fitting them over his hands before raising both blades to intercept her attacks. His pain was manageable, but he still winced as he extended his arms and fought. ​

The two traded blows, sparks flying as metal clashed. Zig's swings were precise but aggressive, each strike pressing Anselm harder. Whenever their blades locked, she drove her knee into his chest or gut, exploiting the bruised ribs he'd sustained in their collision. Anselm responded with a more flexible, fluid approach, playing it safer and more defensively. ​

“What’s the matter, Valreyes, no fire today?” Zig taunted, testing both his composure and his hampered defenses. ​

He grinned at her taunt, his pain fueling his resolve further. The golden rings within his violet eyes seemed to ignite as his breathing deepened. The blades of his daggers ignited with red and orange flames, answering his call rather than blazing from anger.

“If you want fire, Zig, I’ll show you fire.”