Black Spire Outpost is a small but thriving settlement on the Outer Rim world Batuu. Although Batuu’s remote location — it’s so far off the grid that couriers have to carry interstellar messages to a planet with a Holonet beacon — has given it a reputation as a good place to lay low and avoid attention, Black Spire has witnessed skirmishes in both the Clone Wars and the more recent war between the Resistance and First Order.

The Spire is a market town where Batuuans and the occasional outlanders come to buy and sell a surprising variety of wares. The main bazaar features handcrafted toys, clothing, pets, and the pervasive, mouthwatering scent wafting from Ronto Roaster’s grill, a converted pod racer engine. Customers interested in specialty goods tend to stick to Dok-Ondar’s Den of Antiquities or Hondo Ohnaka’s latest “highly legitimate and extremely legal import/export business venture.” The most out of place customers must be the trickle of spiritual seekers who flock to Saavi’s scrapyard to pick through rusted durasteel and droid bits in search of something special.

Although people from small Rim communities are known for a certain aloofness with outsiders, Batuuans have gleefully adapted to the increased foot traffic in the bazaar and the planet is something of a minor tourist destination for coreward travellers with a taste for the exotic. Smiles and cries of “Bright suns, traveller!” invariably lead to foreign credits lining Batuuan pockets.

Although the planet has its share of thugs, typically found in Oga’s Cantina, even a First Order garrison couldn’t shake the feeling that this is the happiest place in the galaxy.

The triple suns of Batuu hung low in the sky on Black Spire Outpost as Hector rolled into town. The armored Kiffar mentally reviewed the spare mission details he had received from the Grand Master’s Royal Guard.

FLASH

HIGH-RANKING INQUISITORIOUS AGENT MISSING POSSIBLY CAPTURED. SUSPECTED CHILDREN OF MORTIS REMNANT CELL. ALL REAPER-LEVEL AGENTS IN THE VICINITY REQUESTED

COORDINATES ATTACHED

“This backwater would be the place for a Mortis cell,” Hector muttered as he entered the outpost’s bazaar. The denizens of the outpost seemed to give the stranger in the bulky, obsidian black armor, a wide berth but otherwise paid him no mind. The occasional market-goer brave enough to cross his path would smile and give a polite “Bright suns, traveler,” before moving on. The Vizlan was an experienced hunter and had certainly earned his reaper designation in the GMRG. This would be his first high-level mission since the guard’s recent reformation into an elite mission force.

As Hector passed by Oga’s Cantina he felt a surge in the Force toward the edge of town. It was the type of current change in the natural flow of the Force one would sense when powerful practitioners were in combat. He broke out into a full run, his armored boots clanking on the streets as he progressed. While the Force gave the Kiffar a vague direction to go on, soon the sounds of fighting directed him where to go.

Rounding a corner into an alleyway between two decrepit warehouses on the outskirts of the outpost, Hector came upon a large Togorian wearing a dark cloak over crimson armor facing off against a pair of humans wielding white lightsabers. Hector was taken aback for a moment, was that the Fist of the Brotherhood? It was!

Rajhin Cindertail dashed toward one of the humans with supernatural speed, wielding his Sith Sword with expert precision. Sparks flew as the alchemically enhanced blade struck the plasma of his opponent’s lightsaber. The human male struggled to defend against the sheer physical strength of the Togorian’s rapid strikes. His fellow human intervened by extended out his free hand toward the rampaging Fist and unleashing a translucent wave of telekinetic energy.

Rajhin had to cease his attack and brace himself to keep from being knocked over by the blast. “IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?” He roared.

Hector recognized the humans as wearing the armor of the Grey Blades, a particularly nasty sub-faction of the Children of Mortis. The Kiffar ignited his lightsaber gauntlets and made a targeted jetpack leap toward the Grey Blade which had Force attacked Rajhin.

Hector plummeted towards his foe; his gauntlets posed to strike. He brought both blades down at once, aiming to slay the Grey Blade in a single strike.

For all of his skill with stealth the Kiffar was unable to mitigate the loud noise from his jetpack. The sound of the flames igniting had informed the Grey Blade that something was amiss and allowed the Force User to perform a last second parry against Hector‘s attack.

“Why, hello there!“ Hector proclaimed as he and the Grey Blade began to clash, saber against saber. Glancing over to Rajhin he stated “Not sure we‘ve met in person before but I‘m sure you‘ve seen my name on the guard rotation. Hector Von Ricmore, a pleasure to meet you. 2 against one is rather poor odds, mind if I help you out with that?“

Rajhin was focused on beating his own opponent. “FIGHT NOW, TALK LATER!“ He boisterously proclaimed. He deflected a saber strike away from his person and then smashed his off hand into the face of the Grey Blade. The Child of Mortis stumbled back in a daze as blood flowed from his shattered nose. The Togorian felt adrenaline flow through him as he eagerly pushed his advantage.

Rajhin rushed forward, his Sith Sword carving arcs through the air. Each swing continued to push his off balance opponent back. In desperation, the Grey Blade called upon the Force to increase his own strength and speed. The Force user faked a downward strike with a feint then pivoted his left leg and swung a horizontal blow at Rahjin‘s side.

The Togorian caught the blow with a translucent barrier that sprung from his offhand. He slammed the hilt of his blade into the ribs of his adversary. The Grey Blade yelped in pain and glared murderously at his foe.

“IS THAT ALL YOU CAN AMOUNT TO? YOU ARE A DISAPPOINTMENT“! Rajhin declared.

“Well, he seems to have that well in hand.“ Hector muttered to himself. His inattention cost him as a powerful telekinetic attack slammed into his armor, shredding his shields and sending him

‘That was dangerous.‘ Hector thought as he reassessed his foe. The Grey Blade gestured with his hands, preparing to launch another Force attack.

Hector held out his palms and flung a burst of purple lighting forwards. The lightning was intercepted and grounded against the white saber of the Child of Mortis. But the attack had succeeded in its goal and disrupted the planned Force attack.

A tense moment passed between Hector and the Grayblade Warden he had been facing off with. The Mortis assailant held his saber in front with a two-handed grip, waiting for a follow-up volley. The Kiffar took a heavy breath, allowing his Force reserves to replenish. He glanced over to see Rajhin pressing the advantage against his injured opponent, chaining swift strikes of his Sith sword against the Mortis lightsaber.

Something changed, the flowing river of the Force turned into a trickle. Hector found it hard to hear the Force’s call, it was like static was filling the spaces of his mind that connected to the universe around him. This feeling wasn’t entirely unfamiliar as the Vizlan had encountered opponents who could suppress connection with the Force before.

“What are you doing? Finish those Brotherhood dogs!” A new, distinctly feminine voice interjected. Hector turned toward the direction of the newcomer and saw a female Rattataki wearing more ornate Grayblade armor.

Hector’s opponent replied to his superior, “working on it commander!”

Rajhin’s opponent was desperately trying to fend off the raging Togorian and didn’t give any reply.

“OH YOU THINK I NEED THE FORCE TO GUT YOU? YOU’RE WRONG!” the Fist exclaimed as he leaped at the frantic human with a leap and powerful downward slash.

Hector made note of the fact that whichever of the Mortis combatants were suppressing his Force abilities they were attempting to suppress Rajhin as well. Luckily he also didn’t need the Force to assail his opponent. The Kiffar dashed forward and triggered a precise controlled burst of his rocket pack to launch himself at his opponent in an arc coming down with all his bodyweight backing up the blow. The Grayblade tried to move out of the way but failed, having his lightsaber knocked from his grip by the sheer impact of the blow. Hector wasted no time and followed up by grabbing the human’s shoulder with his right hand to hold him in place and stabbing the Mortis agent in the stomach with his left Lightsaber gauntlet with a gut punch motion.

The Grayblade gave a groaning exhale over Hector’s shoulder as his insides were eviscerated and quickly cauterized by the Vizlan’s blade. The Kiffar let his opponent slump off of him into the street before turning to face the newcomer.

“You!” the Rattataki exclaimed with recognition, her attention focused on Rajhin. “The Father will bathe me in glory for taking you down Cindertail.”

As Hector began to move to engage the Grayblade officer he could feel the suppression weighing that much heavier on his mind. The white noise drowning out his connection to the Force was almost maddening. She was the source of it, she had to be, he just had to force her to shift her concentration away from maintaining it.

Rajhin activated the crystal shield emitter on his left arm and began blocking lightsaber blows with one arm and making precise Sith Sword strikes with the other. The human Grayblade was quickly becoming overwhelmed. Even without the Force, the Fist of the Brotherhood was a formidable opponent.

Hector again activated his jetpack to close the distance, he had to stop the Rattataki from intervening. As he descended upon her, she raised her right hand and arrested his momentum with the Force just enough to alter his trajectory. Few Force users were strong enough to completely stop a jetpack telekinetically, but changing direction, well that was very feasible. Hector deactivated his pack but it was too late, the Grayblade commander had altered his momentum just enough to send him careening harmlessly over her head and straight into a wall. If he hadn’t been wearing armor the impact would have knocked him out cold.

“Ow,” Hector exhaled as he tried to get up off the street and regain his bearings. As he picked himself up Hector caught a glimpse of Rajhin decapitating his opponent with a loud roar. Splatting against that wall had been worth it if he had bought enough time for the Fist to win his engagement. Two versus one against this Grayblade commander were much better odds.

“I don’t think glory is what you will receive this day Commander Yzotix,” Rajhin retorted as he flicked the blood off his Sith sword with a single motion. Hector noted how unusually calm the Fist’s demeanor was in contrast to his usual….shouty….nature in battle.

“The day isn’t over beast!”

Atawos Yzotix threw a pair of flashbangs before seemingly vanishing into thin air. Rajhin and Hector had to avert their eyes and still their hearing was disrupted.

“Cursed witch!” Hector exclaimed before rushing toward where he thought the Grayblade commander had run.

“Wait. The Inquisitorious agent is our priority, he is inside the warehouse,” Rajhin paused to look toward where Yzotix had been. “By now reinforcements are in orbit. She won’t get far. We need to get our agent out first.”

“Agreed.”

Rajhin bared his fangs in a grin. This foe was quite the disappointment but the thrill of combat was nonetheless invigorating. Perhaps a handicap was in order.

The Togorian sheathed his blade. He held his arms up to his face, palms open and facing his opponent. He began to circle his opponent, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

The Grey Blade struck out with his lightsaber which forced Rajhin to backpedal. Swing after swing inched closer to his body. The feline carefully watched his prey. His eyes tracked the blade itself and the footwork of the enemy Force User. He ducked under a stab that was aimed a bit too high, granting him the time to smash an elbow into his opponent‘s midsection.

The Grey Blade wheezed as the air left his body. Rajhin followed the elbow with a kick that landed behind the being‘s knee; destabilizing him.

The Child of Mortis lashed out with his saber once more. The Brotherhood‘s Fist called upon the Force to accelerate and strengthen his body. He activated his Kohlen bracer and parried the blow, moving so fast that his arm appeared as nothing more than a blur.

The shield pried the lightsaber from the grip of his foe and sent it tumbling to the floor. Rajhin kicked the weapon before the Grey Blade could retrieve it, sending it far out of sight.

The Togorian smashed a fist into his foe‘s windpipe causing him to choke and gasp for air.

He fell over, grasping at his throat, as he desperately tried to force breath into his lungs.

The last thing he saw was a blur approaching his face; as Rajhin crushed his head with an elbow drop.

Blades of white and grey clashed against one another as Hector Von Ricmore engaged his foe in melee. He himself had a presence for ranged Force combat or stealth assasination, neither of which would be feasible with his current opponent.

The last telekinetic attack proved his foe was a more adept hand with the Force than he. And he couldn‘t afford to allow the conflict to draw out for much longer.

That left one option. He‘d have to gamble on taking a risk.

He lunged forward, growing more aggressive with his saber swings. He preemptively called upon the Force to numb the pain that would be occurring.

The Kiffar deliberately missed a stab, leaving himself out of position. A white blur slammed into his head, melting through his helmet and causing a streaking burn across his face.

It hurt. Everything hurt. But the Force gave him enough will power to slam his gauntlet into his foe‘s chest before he could recover. The blade pierced his foe, who fell over, a silent gasp leaving his lips.

With the battle over Hector allowed himself to relax. He fell to the ground and began to groan in pain.

Not the best impression to make when meeting the Fist but he was sure the Togorian would understand.

All things considered, it was just another day for the GMRG.