The Godless Matron was once a Trade Federation battleship, crewed by countless droid workers. Since then, many sections of the ship have fallen into disrepair due to the sheer amount of manpower involved in its maintenance. As a result, parts of the central sphere of the Lucrehulk-class battleship has been left to the ravages of time and the scars of the Clone War itself.

The crew has come to refer to this section of the Matron as The Gauntlet, largely due to the danger it represents. Located in the lower regions of the command sphere, it is a crosshatched network of ruined and damaged hallways, repair bays, and even crew quarters. While most power has been shut off to this section — save for critical systems such as life support — the systems and circuitry still require occasional maintenance in order to keep the entire framework operational. Such tech runs have become a matter of betting amongst the crew, earning it the nickname: running the gauntlet.

A heavy layer of dust sits mostly undisturbed along the debris of the halls, save for the footprints of the few crew that have tread the path before. These previously walked paths are a safety net for those who venture into The Gauntlet unknowingly. It is also thought that the remaining Separatist forces staged a last ditch defense within this area of the ship, and did so by any means necessary. Many traps, ranging from explosives to spring-loaded mechanisms, are littered throughout the untravelled pathways — or even still undisturbed within the known sections. Further still, malfunctioning B1 droids and even semi-active Spy Drones remain, ready to ambush the unsuspecting observer and adding to the dangers of the dark, debris filled tomb The Gauntlet has become.

Countless perils awaited those who ventured into the furthest depths of the Gauntlet. This fact was known to the crew of the Godless Matron better than most. There was opportunity, however, when the right circumstances presented themselves. The Herald had offered safe passage and not an entirely small sum of credits to whomsoever managed to 'run the Gauntlet' successfully. The proof of such a feat lay deep within the labyrinthine halls themselves, with a banner bearing the Herald's crest waiting to be claimed.

The risks of the Gauntlet alone were enough to dissuade most, but the crew of the Godless Matron had ensured that the ante, so to speak, was to be raised. Those who entered the Gauntlet would do so from varying access points, and all would gain entry at the same designated intervals until the prize was claimed.

Dust. He noted it the instant he entered the hall. It clung to everything, even lazily floating through the thin air. Overhead lights blinked on to blink off again, indicative of power surges through the electrical conduits. He could only assume the entire sector of the ship was in the same condition. The Gauntlet. He had heard rumours of the place, those rumours from the story weaving sailors of this god forsaken vessel. Mune eyed the path that lay before him, tugged once again into one of the Herald’s games much as he had the first.

Unbeknownst to him, yet what seems to have become predictable of the games they’ve been thrust into, Tali entered the Gauntlet from another access point not far from his own. The Twi’lek took in the same debris strewn access halls. She eyed hanging cables, spitting sparks. Undaunted, they both stepped forward at their respective points, and into the maze of halls.

Mune mentally counted with every step, distracting his mind from the press of the walls. Walls, he could have sworn, were buckling and ready to collapse inwards at any moment. It felt to him as though the vacuum of space pressed voraciously at the hull just yearning to sate its hunger upon what remained of the hellish corridors and the unfortunates that wandered them. Nonsense, he scolded himself in annoyance. Step after step, he pushed forward, footprints left in his wake, among older, nearly vanished prints of so many that had walked this path before him.

From a corridor perpendicular his own, a sailor levelled his weapon. Only when the hybrid came into sight did he fire. Mune could only guess at how many other such men were loosed within the halls to trudge towards the prize. The Savant jerked sideways, the Force only seconds ahead of the blaster bolt. Then a realization as the bolt whipped by, though the Force continued its cry of warning through his mind’s eye. A rumble filled his ears, and heat grew behind him, surged forth to grasp at him. The flames of the explosion licked at his robes, but he was in motion, diving past the sailor quicker than the man could have expected of the hybrid. He tucked, he rolled, and fluidly he was back on his feet even as he lashed out and slammed the man against the wall.

No need to kill him, Mune thought.

The man’s head rattled, thrown clear of the blast by the hybrid before the explosion could engulf him. Mune stepped over the incapacitated sailor, mouth covered against the fumes of the explosion’s remains. Walls were stripped to their bulkheads, forcing him to proceed carefully through the heat to the other side where he could continue forward.

Tali Zorah proceeded at a more cautious pace from her point of entry. The explosion was but a whisper somewhere, numerous corridors away from her own position. She could only speculate at the events unfolding. No map was provided, no easy exits made themselves available. She could only press on. There was another Force-user in the corridors, she could sense it, she could only hope he would be friendly and not try to eliminate her on sight.

The sailor came at her from a maintenance access hatch from above. He dropped suddenly in an ambush. The sharp point of a knife barely missing, and managing a thing tear in her clothing. It dawned on her that it may not even be the Force-user she had to worry over, but rather, whomever else it was that had been thrown into the Gauntlet with them.

She dodged another slash of the knife, eyed wide, darting to his left to scan the corridor that stretched beyond. When he struck again, she brought up her hands, letting them slide along the length of his arm. Even as he pushed towards her to drive the knife into flesh, she shifted her position fluidly. She eased a foot forward, using the man’s momentum to kick his feet out from under him. Her hands grasped, then with ease flipped him head over heels in a beautiful arc viciously to the floor with a heavy thump. A grunt came from him with the rush of air that exploded from his lungs on impact. She did not wait for him to recover. She bolted down the hall, further into the labyrinth of the Gauntlet.

She was starting to feel like this wasn’t quite as straightforward as when her assigned squad mates had told her she could gain an easy merit by getting some old rag on a stick from the depths of the command sphere. Of course, even before the sudden assault by the crazed crewman she’d avoided being incinerated, blown to pieces or eviscerated by cunning traps that, in hindsight, should probably have tipped her off on that fact.

This far into the Gauntlet, though, Tali had to admit she wasn’t sure if she could find her way back anymore and on some defiant level, she felt a dogged urge to prove her squad mates wrong. No doubt they were even now snickering about the dumb Twi’lek they’d tricked into her doom.

It was clear she wasn’t alone here. Momentarily, she’d sensed someone else in the distance and the run-in with the deckhand made it quite clear this place was, if not inhabited, at least occupied by someone. Deep in thought, the Twi’lek didn’t watch her step and she stubbed her toe against a piece of metal sticking out from a pile of debris, caked over by layers of dust so thick it looked like rock.

Hobbling forward as she fought for balance, Tali managed to right herself before stumbling, spinning around with the grace of a dancer before regaining her footing even as the pile of dust began to shift.

“Roger-Roger…” A monotone voice spoke up next to her, causing a jolt of surprise.

A B1 Battle Droid, dotted by rust where cheap brownish paint had flaked off over time, rose from a pile of its blasted brethren. It twitched and lurched from side to side as its head panned the area in search of targets.

At a momentary loss on how to react, she realized it would be best to flee when the droid reached for its blaster. Turning tail and running down the corridor at full pelt, the droid seemed to finally acquire a target. Repeating the nonsense it had blurted before, it pressed the trigger on its weapon and promptly exploded as the damaged power core overloaded and detonated the weapon in its grasp.

The sound of the explosion elicited a squeal from the Twi’lek as she covered her lekku with her arms, closing her eyes in a primal reflex though still running, managing to miss a trip-wire by pure luck. She took a few more running paces when suddenly the decrepit flooring gave way beneath her modest weight and she was cast into darkness, tumbling down a gaping hole.

Pressing forward with one hand held at the hilt of his vibrosword, Mune kept his eyes peeled for more traps while he gingerly made his way deeper into the dark depths of the Gauntlet. Creaking sounds of rusting metal and the bangs and clanks of crew and droid alike all echoed in the cramped confines of the maintenance corridor he was forced to traverse and all the while he could swear the walls were getting closer and closer.

Feeling a growing tightness in his chest, the heavy dust in the air making him short of breath, Mune noticed his hand shifting from vibrosword to lightsaber and back as the internal battle inside his mind kept raging.

The cramped corridor was too narrow for his vibrosword to be used as freely as he wanted, the blade tip easily catching a bulkhead or wall mid-motion. A lightsaber wouldn’t mind as much, even though he would have to adjust his attacks, but the thought of even glancing the ancient walls with a lightsaber felt utterly suicidal. Though maybe they were a bit sturdier than he gave them credit for? Finally tiring of tormenting himself, he decreed to stick with the vibrosword and save himself the headache.

Ahead, he could finally see a doorway as a sudden crash made him almost jump out of his skin. The hybrid bolted forward, wishing to vacate the cramped tunnel at once in case it was breached, he soon found himself standing in the middle of a vast chamber. Shrouded in darkness with only a pillar of light piercing the darkness from above, he saw a mound of dried rags on top of which a purple Twi’lek was slowly regaining her footing after a rough fall.

The silence was disturbed by a score of monotone voices all around the chamber speaking up in unison. “Roger-Roger!”

Mune’s ears perked. He knew that sound, he realized, with a growing sense of unease. The twi’lek, Mune realized, was the other Force-user he had been sensing off and on. The Force, however, was wailing something else entirely at him in that moment. He moved, the Force an untamed river that crashed through him and powered his forward momentum. He used the momentum to leap up, the arc of his jump having him landing at the woman’s side. Even as he came rushing back downwards, he called the Force to his aid, focussing his power into a roaring, unseen blaze within a palm.

The twi’lek sensed the man’s rapid approach, felt his presence coming down upon her from above. Then she recognized in a quick glimpse through the force the danger she was truly in as thermal detonators came arcing through the air upon them.

Mune drove the gathered bundle of Force energy into the ground, landing in a crouch. The power roared like a beast unleashed. Raging fury sent outward, kicking dust, debris, rags and most importantly, the detonators out and away from the two. Explosions rocked the chamber. Here and there a B1 battle droid was engulfed in a blast that ripped it limb from limb. The hybrid breathed hard, sweat beading his forehead beneath his customary mask. He had to start channeling if he expected to protect the girl and himself, he realized.

“You need to cover us, understand? That wave took a lot out of me. Can you do that?” He asked hurriedly.

Tali blinked away her surprise. Did he just save her life? Hearing his words though, she snapped back to her senses and gave a firm nod in the affirmative. “H… how long?” She asked nervously, eyes taking in the droids all around their exposed position.

“As long as I need?” Mune asked with a bit of a sheepish grin.

He did not wait for her response before he crouched lower and closed his eyes. He centered himself, anchored himself in the Force and called it to rush through him. Like water lapping at the pebbles on the beach, it pressed in upon him. He had to believe she could keep him from taking a blaster bolt to the head while he regained his strength. As much trust as Mune was putting in her, Tali realized she may not have put that trust in herself right then.

She drew her lightsaber and ignited the brilliant yellow blade. The hum filled their immediate space, the light dancing on her clothing and that of her new ally. Fire crackled from the many dissipating explosions, the droids regarding their targets in silence for what seemed an eternity to her. Then, as if queued by some unseen being, as one they spoke. “Roger-Roger!” Blast fire rent the air. The twi’lek brought her lightsaber up, blocking bolts where she could, dodging the ones she could not. They seemed focussed upon her, she realized within seconds. She realized just as quickly that she was being rapidly overwhelmed. Panic suffused her, a dawning terror as their fire rained forth to her and her companion. She only just managed to draw upon the Force to create a barrier for herself against the newest onslaught. Even so, she felt it almost instantly fraying at the edges, glass ready to explode into so many fragments against the brutal firepower of the droids.

“I… I can’t do it!” She cried out.

Mune was then between she and the face of death. Two lightsabers cascading out into crackling brilliance. He deflected a series of blasts harmlessly away only to throw his own barrier quickly up to dissipate the next three.

Tali spun on her heels only just quickly enough to deflect another series of blasts that came from behind. Her eyes were wide in panic. How many were there, she wondered. “Do… do I get to know your name, sir?” She manage dot get out, breathing heavily with so much smoke and dust and fighting for her life.

Mune had managed to calm his own breathing back to near normal. His left ear twitched, catching her question he grinned a bit behind his mask. “Mune Cinteroph, of Scholae Palatinae.”

“Tali Zorah, sir, of Arcona.” She replied before she yelped as a blaster bolt only barely missed her right shoulder.

She must still be very early in her training, how did she wind up here?! Mune thought worriedly. It matters not… just keep yourself, and the girl alive.

“There is debris to my left, your right! We can use it for cover!”

Mune’s eyes snapped to the position the girl mentions. “Let’s move then!”

The hybrid allowed her to move first. He spun around, his sabers a flurry of motion. One… two… four… eight bolts are deflected in quick succession. The savant giving his body over to the Force, letting it guide his motions to cover the twi’lek acolyte. He ducks another shot, weaves around yet another before he cuts a battle druid clean in half. He senses it distantly before it hits, no time to react while his left lightsaber is still rending the metal of the droid before him. The pain ripped through the left shoulder, the saber dropped from his grip from the violent convulsion of muscles in reaction to the furious agony that wrenches a scream from his lips. He could not stop however, to stop meant certain death. He threw himself sideways even as numerous bolts tore up the ground where he had been seconds before. He rolled and found himself behind Tali’s cover.

His breathing was uneven, the wound surging fire through his every nerve. He fought back curses at his own overzealous assault. Swallowing, he pushed the pain back, a slow process, but he had to calm the pain enough to focus his energy towards healing.

“Y... you need to cover us… sorry. That was so stupid of me!”

“I got its blaster rifle.” Tali responded almost cheerfully.

“You know how to use those things?”

She clutched the rifle in her hands. Its rough edges had been crudely stamped in an automated factory for a war long past, meant to arm an army as expendable as the weapon itself. It felt alien and harsh in her grip, the weight alone making her stand awkwardly. As she meant to voice her self-doubt, a bright crimson bolt snapped overhead. Ducking instinctively, her fingers squeezed the corroded hunk of metal in her hands and snapped off a shot that almost caught Mune in the thigh.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! I…” Tali blurted out in shock, but the experienced fighter silenced her with a gesture.

“Them, shoot at them!” He snapped wearily, pointing at the surrounding darkness from which looming shapes of skeletal warriors approached, chattering to themselves and firing the occasional blaster shot. She just had to hold out for a while.

Gulping and nodding with her best effort at grim determination, the novice Twi’lek scurried to the lip of the rubble pile and aimed down the non-existent sights of her rifle. Shifting aside her lek that had naturally fallen to obscure her vision, Tali saw a B1 clank towards her with deadly inevitability. Its march staggered and aim less than inaccurate, the sight was still enough to strike fear in her heart and she squeezed her eyes shut as she fired.

The bolt of light crossed the short distance between them, striking the droid center mass and punching it off its feet with a hiss of burning electronics. Gingerly opening her eyes to inspect the damage, she noticed much to her surprise that the enemy was down and out. Yet before she had time for elation a further two droids approached from her right, firing a staccato of bolts that screamed overhead with a high-pitched squeal.

Emboldened by success, Tali shifted her aim and fired, now managing to keep her eyes mostly open as the weapon buzzed and shook in her hands with each pull of the trigger. Bolts criss-crossed between them, both combatants missing their marks wildly until Tali managed another lucky hit and downed one more droid. She barely had time to rejoice, however, as a near-miss scorched the rubble next to her shoulder, the hissing material suddenly bursting aflame from the impact.

Scrambling back as her cover suddenly immolated, illuminating the room in a flickering radiance that did more to confuse than aid her. She fired one-handed at the droid, pumping bolt after bolt in its general direction until it finally fell.

Rising to a crouch, Tali peered through the flames at more targets, soon finding a score more in the distance that seemed even more bewildered by the fire, their photosensors going haywire after years of neglect, overloaded by the sudden flux of light. The Twi’lek would take any advantage she could get and proceeded to fire wildly at them, scoring a hit for every half-dozen trigger pulls, but still managing to thin their numbers, albeit slowly.

The heat of the fire mixed with the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she fought for her life, all focus now channeled to staying alive and shooting as many droids as she could. Her senses failed to notice the rising heat in the blaster’s core, a faint whistling sounding from its gas clip as it began to overheat.

Mune, sensing the danger through his meditation, had to shift his attention away from aiding his body’s natural healing with the Force to save the foolish Arconan. Wincing in pain as his body shifted uncomfortably in a swift twist, he regained his footing and closed the distance between the two of them. Snatching the rifle from the Twi’lek’s hands without a word, he threw it in a wide arc at an approaching cluster of droids before pulling the perplexed woman down just before the weapon overheated in a powerful explosion.

Shrapnel and torn droid parts rained overhead, bouncing off bulkhead walls in a symphony of violence before stillness returned. “You’re welcome... again,” Mune sighed.

The beaten-up pair pressed on, deciding they stood a better chance at survival together than alone. Traversing dark corridors for what seemed like hours, Tali doing her best to help her wounded ally and keeping them from wandering into further traps, they made their way to a chamber that seemed inhabited. The sounds of organic voices bickering greeted them as they surveyed the crude encampment, and the banner planted at its core.

Unfortunately, and my apologies for not catching it earlier, Mune's second post went well above the 750 maximum word count for this competition.

This match is now closed, though you will still receive timeout warnings due to a known bug.

Tali will receive 2 posts worth of points.