Professional Grot vs. Ranger Ka Tarvitz

Professional Grot

Journeyman 4, Journeyman tier, Clan Arcona
Male Trandoshan, Mercenary, Hunter
vs.

Ranger Ka Tarvitz

Equite 2, Equite tier, Clan Odan-Urr
Male Human, Jedi, Juggernaut, Guardian
Comment

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Hall Duelist Hall - Ranked
Messages 2 out of 4
Time Limit 3 Days
Battle Style Alternative Ending
Battle Status Closed by Timeout
Combatants Professional Grot, Ranger Ka Tarvitz
Force Setting Standard
Weapon Setting Standard
Professional Grot's Character Snapshot Snapshot
Ranger Ka Tarvitz's Character Snapshot Snapshot
Venue Crait: Former Rebel Base
Last Post 28 January, 2018 4:09 AM UTC
Member timing out Nikora Rhan
Posts

Crait Former Rebel Base

The planet of Crait, known mostly for its salt covered red soil and minerals, became the setting for the reborn legend of Luke Skywalker. The tale of the First Order's siege upon the remnants of the Resistance and Skywalker’s solitary last stand spread like wildfire throughout the galaxy. The scars born of the siege still remain, alongside the breached and empty carcass of what was once a rebel base. After what became known as the Battle of Crait, the planet now sits forgotten by the First Order and Resistance alike. Which makes it the perfect place for scavengers and adventurers.

The crystalline flats extend far into the horizon until the distance ceases to hold meaning. The scorched salt mingle with the red soil, forcibly fused together by the violent discharge of heavy artillery fire. Old rebel speeders lie as skeletal reminders of the toll that the Resistance had paid in staging their last stand. Most of the parts have already stripped of what parts survived.

Standing opposite the endless flats is an expansive mountain side that stands almost completely vertical. Climbing it would be a difficult, if not impossible prospect. Tall, heavily armored doors—now breached—are built into the mountainside itself and mark the entrance to the abandoned base.

The approach to the base is lined by fallen turrets and crumbled trenches. Once inside, various crates and shrapnel litter the ground and offer nothing of value, save for cover when in need. The cave system expands outward from the entrance in a winding maze of crystalline pathways. If traveled long enough, and with some luck, an unmarked exit lies to be found. The hangar itself is divided into purposeful quadrants, with a command station situated deeper inside that leads to supply rooms and barracks.

Standing on the salted ground gives even the least perceptive a sense of gravity. The weight of what transpired is undeniable, with the visible reminders there for all to see if they care to look.

The planet is also known for its native crystal critters—Vulptex—which can leave the safety of their underground tunnels to investigate new visitors to their terrain.

The world of Crait was hardly inviting to any traveller. A milky white orb of crystalline salt, its pale surface was broken only with the mild grey of planes shifting and streaks of red where the undersoil broke through. Abandoned by much of the galaxy and all but forgotten to time, from orbit it resembled a blinded eye hanging in space. Tarvitz had its appearance repellant, almost uniquely foreboding even among the Outer Rim’s more infamous worlds. Even after breaking through the atmosphere his opinion of it had hardly improved.

Passing low over the featureless white plains, the combat blackened Spitfire made another sweep over the area, searching for anything of true note. Buckled into the cockpit of the N-1 Starfighter and reading the instruments with a mixture of bewilderment and boredom, Tarvitz sighed. He had jumped into orbit a few hours prior, flying the Spitfire in a recon pattern over the world. First searching for debris in orbit and then across its surface, he had searched for any signs of battle, anything which might have offered him some clue as to what had happened here. Or, at least, just who was broadcasting a distress signal on Brotherhood frequencies.

For all the efforts he - or at least the R3 Astromech locked into place behind his cockpit - had made, they had turned up nothing. There was no debris, no residual energy from laserfire, not even the suggestion of a crash landing due to engine malfunctions. No hint as to just what might await them, or more importantly why the distress signal had been activated. The only thing that they had confirmed was that the signal itself was originating from an abandoned facility built into the mountains and ringed with decaying battlements. Behind him, Ratchet gave an indigent whistle. Tarvitz glanced down at the translation on his cockpit display and snorted with laughter.

“I agree, and if I wanted to set a trap I’d do the exact same thing,” he admitted, leaning back in his seat as he considered his options “And you’re certain it’s one of our codes?”

Ratchet offered no response, opting instead to patch the same repeating tone they had picked up earlier through to his helmet. As he listened again, there was certainly no mistaking it. While the pattern did not resemble any previous records of Iron Legion messages he had been provided, it was almost certainly one of the Brotherhood's distinctive coded signals.

“Well then, nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Tarvitz said as he reached down and began initiating procedures for a rapid atmospheric entry “Perhaps we’ll get lucky, and it’s someone seeking to switch sides. Does the usual approach sound good to you?”

A single bleep answered him, and the N-1 turned about as Ratchet took control of the ship. Banking it sharply about, it glided over the crumbling trenchworks and craters left from the last battle fought there. Anything of worth had long since been picked clean by scavengers or left to rot, leaving only the metal bones of each side’s engines of war. Tarvitz could hardly tell which had been which, but if there was a metaphor to be made from the sight, it escaped him. As he felt the repulsorlift plates hum to life beneath him, the starfighter came to a halt just over a meter above the ground, directly before a pair of vast reinforced doors.

“So, keep flying patrols, keep scanning, and if I give the word…” Tarvitz began, but a sarcastic bleep of acknowledged whistle cut him off, “Good. See you in a minute.”

Freeing himself from the cockpit Tarvitz vaulted over the side, feeling the ground crunch loudly beneath his feet as he landed. There was a slight flicker as the holographic HUD adjusted to the alien environment, scanning for possible threats ahead of him. Offering Ratchet a final wave as the starfighter took to the air once more, Tarvitz shouldered the blaster rifle at his side and advanced toward the hanger doors. They had been misshapen, almost bent inward by some great impact and then dragged apart, leaving them locked open in a position just wide enough to permit a landspeeder through.

Much of the interior was hidden away by darkness, save for what little sunlight pushed in through open doors. Debris was strewn about the place, with upturned crates and broken machinery littering the area for as far as he could see. Most were coated by a thin layer of white salt which had crept its way inward through the open doors, and every step forward he took crushed more underneath. Every time, the loud crunch of Tarvitz’s footfalls seemed to echo about the artificial cavern, breaking the stillness of its interior. It was hard for him not to feel as if he was intruding upon a tomb.

Taking a few more cautious steps inside, Tarvitz looked down, checking the signal’s strength on his comlink. It was close by so far as he could make out, perhaps even within the hanger itself. He took another step forward, and something screamed a warning in the back of his mind. Tarvitz whipped his head about, searching for a possible threat. The sudden action saved his life. There was a crack from somewhere off in the darkness and something sped past his head, passing close enough to chip the very edge of his helmet.

Instinctively Tarvitz dived forward, hurling himself behind the nearest crate as another bullet ripped through the air and embedded itself against the rusting floor. Almost exactly where he had been standing just a second ago. A third shot ricocheted against the ground a heartbeat later, skimming the very edge of his cover.

“Oh, for the love of-!” Tarvitz managed, hunching down with his back against the crate “If you’re the one who activated that distress signal, would you mind not shooting the one trying to rescue you!”

His words echoed about the hanger, and the gunfire paused for a moment. Then, a low hiss of a chuckle answered him, seemingly coming from everywhere at once.

“That makes six now,” the voice said with a grim amusement, “Pravus is a poor leader if he relies upon Inquisitors who so willingly walk into my traps.”

Tarvitz started to rise up, hands held above him as he was ready to object, but another warning through the Force send him ducking for cover even as another shot was fired.

“Yes, very nice, it’s a truly wonderfully crafted trap,” Tarvitz retorted, quietly trying to buy himself a few moments as he weighed his options “Just one slight flaw - I’m not an Inquisitor!”

“A lie I might entertain if you did not carry their equipment.” The sniper responded. Rather than echoing throughout the area, his voice instead buzzed quietly through Tarvitz’s comlink.

Before Tarvitz could answer further, another shot quickly silenced him, this one punching through the crate mere inches above his shoulder. He was beginning to get the feeling that this sniper, whoever he might have been, was not about to sit down and talk this out. At least not while he was still holding that rifle. Concentrating for a second, Tarvitz raised one hand over the crate and channelled the Force into his palm. It exploded into a phosphorescent burst pure white light, momentarily illuminating a segment of the hanger with the intensity of a new dawn. There was a growl of agony from somewhere nearby and as the blinding light dimmed, Tarvitz rose above his cover. Some way off, half-hidden behind a makeshift fortification of abandoned equipment, he saw something humanoid recoiling in pain and dropping a distinctly rifle shaped object. Tarvitz made a grasping motion in the air, and the rifle skittered across the ground, coming to land partway between them.

"Now, are you willing to sit down and settle this with words, or do I need to start shooting back before you'll listen to me?"

The Jensaarai’s question hung in the air, unanswered, as the mercenary moved back into cover. The white spots quickly faded from his eyes, leaving pale purple after-images as his retinas recovered from the blinding light. He cursed himself under his breath for losing his rifle; that had been incredibly sloppy, and Grot resolved to be warier of his opponent's sorcery.

He subtly leaned out of his cover, focusing his helmet's optics on the Force-user at the entrance. The bright, ostentatious clothing made him easy to pinpoint against the grey durasteel, and combined with the obvious Inquisitorial equipment, marked him out as his target. An inquisitor; no other agents were supposed to be operating in this sector. This was definitely his prey, and he wasn’t about to let a few magic tricks deter him. He drew his pistols, preparing to renew his assault.

“Whoever you’re after, it’s not me. My name is Ka Tarvitz, and I’m with— “ the Jedi began calmly, trying to reason with his ambusher, but a freezing chill across his spine warned him of his imminent doom. Trusting his instincts, he threw himself down behind an abandoned supply crate just in time for a trio of bullets to fly overhead. The sharp cracks of the slugs firing echoed across the chamber, the noises of combat driving the native Vulptices back into their dens. There would be no peace or negotiation here, and the crystalline mammals were smart enough to flee.

“I care neither who you are or who you serve, Inquisitor! Only poison falls from your lips, and only curses fly from your tongue!” Grot hissed into the comlink before cutting off communication entirely. Tarvitz sighed in frustration and clambered up onto one knee, unslinging his blaster rifle. It didn’t seem like this was about to end peacefully.

Guess that ends the negotiations, he thought, taking careful stock of the situation. He was clearly at a disadvantage here, something he needed to change before he could deal with the mercenary. This crate wasn’t going to save him forever and eventually one of those slugs would find its mark. He needed a way to even the playing field and draw this karker out of cover.

With a sudden burst of motion, Tarvitz sprinted from cover, using the Force to speed his steps as he charged the makeshift fortification. A hail of slugs leapt up to meet him as Grot unleashed a veritable whirlwind of steel from his pistols. Tarvitz slid onto his knees, hoping to throw off the Trandoshan’s aim while he braced his rifle to return fire, but the mercenary’s hands were far quicker than he expected. Fierce, fiery pain bloomed along his arm as a slug found its mark, drilling straight through his bicep and out the other side. Almost instantly, the pain disappeared, and was replaced with a quiet serenity as he instinctively focused the Force in response. Taking careful aim, he angled his blaster towards Grot’s position and squeezed the trigger to fire the underslung grenade launcher.

Explosion after explosion rained onto the fortification as the grenades erupted on impact, tearing Grot’s cover to pieces. Tarvitz may have been no expert with a grenade launcher, or a blaster for that matter, but even a brain-dead schutta couldn’t miss a target that big. Grot cried out in surprise, shielding his face from the shrapnel as the grenades exploded all around him. With a roar of frustration, he activated his jetpack and launched himself up and out of his prepared position, leaving the burning wreckage behind as he sought more favorable ground.

“It will be a shame to ruin your pelt, Inquisitor!” Grot shouted, holstering his pistol and pulling a grenade from his belt pouch. Kicking the boosters up to maximum, he dived down at the kneeling Jensaarai, letting the grenade cook for a few seconds before tossing it at the Jedi. Tarvitz fired an ineffectual burst from his rifle as the mercenary stormed past, and felt a sudden shock of electricity light up his senses, alerting him to the blinking sphere sailing towards him . The Force stepped to his aid, responding to his commands like an old friend as he reached towards the explosive. With a wave he sent it soaring away from him, but only managed to deflect it a few meters before it detonated. A wave of heat and flame washed over him as the thermal detonator erupted, and the force of the reaction atomized everything around it. Tarvitz braced himself, covering his eyes as the shockwave passed over him.

Opening his eyes, Tarvitz looked around the chamber for the Trandoshan. The detonator had left a small, smoking crater on the durasteel floor and completely destroyed the nearby crates. Molten metal pooled into the center of it, filling the area with a dim orange glow. Looking further, Tarvitz narrowed his eyes and noticed that the mercenary’s rifle was missing from where it had been on the floor.

He must have picked it up while I dealt with the grenade, Tarvitz thought as he dashed behind the nearest piece of cover. He knew the Trandoshan couldn’t have gone too far, but the cavern was dark, and the debris across the floor offered many places for a man to hide. He closed his eyes and focused, reaching out with his feelings, and could feel a presence off to his left.

He sensed a quiet rage seething like a winter storm, and knew the battle was far from over.