Combat Writing

Thuvis Shipyard
Assembly Plant.

The armoured figure entered the assembly plant slowly and carefully, her blaster rifle held in her hands with a finger paused over the trigger. The Liberation Front troopers she had sent to recon the building had not reported back and were not responding to communications. With her troops securing the rest of the facility to reinforce the wavering Severian forces she had decided to check it out alone, confident in her abilities. The room was dark, a single florescent strip light running the length of the ceiling was the only illumination. Around her the hulking machinery cast dark shadows on the ground. Her eyes moved slowly round the room until she stopped. She walked over to a corner and bent down, examining the corpse of one of her soldiers, snarling as she recognised the burnt armour and the exposed and partially cauterised entry wound in the side of the chest caused by light saber. She stood up quickly looking up at the top of one of the pieces of stored machinery from which another of her soldiers hung upside down, their head presumably having rolled into the shadows somewhere.

Crimson sensed someone watching her and spun round, looking up at the control room as the rifle in her hand instinctively followed her gaze. Through the screen a dark figure was watching her. A blaster bolt seared through the air from her rifle, hitting the glass and exploding it, as the figure calmly stepped aside oblivious to the shards surrounding them. As she moved forward for another shot the figure stepped back and then with a flurry of movement leapt through the hole she had created and fell to the ground somewhere behind the machinery with a light sound. She kept her figure on the trigger of her blaster as she edged slowly to one side waiting for a sudden movement. A second later she saw it and a blaster bolt seared off into the darkness as the armoured enemy darted between two large racks of parts, narrowly avoiding her shot. She paused, keeping her weapon trained, then she suddenly leapt aside and rolled across the floor as a small projectile came spinning over the top of the machinery and landed near her, tensing and waiting for the explosion that in the confined space would potentially finish them both.

Just as it became obvious that the projectile was in fact a broken machine part she looked up in alarm as the figure burst out of the darkness, his saber igniting. She fired at him and he deflected the shot with his saber as he ran towards her, closing the gap between them. She leapt aside indistinctively as the white glowing blade sliced at her, rolling once more as she dropped her rifle and grasped for her stun baton, raising it to block a second strike as she pushed herself up into a crouch, concentrating on blocking the hail of blows he rained down on her. As the glowing blade met her baton she set her muscles, then pushed upwards in one explosive motion pushing his blade back and lifting herself to her feet. She faced him as he stood watching her for a few seconds, gripping the hilt of his saber in both hands.

“Who the hell are you?” she asked. He was about her height, wearing black armour surrounded by a reinforced cape. Like her own head his was covered by a simple black metal helmet, the only features being the two eye sockets through which he studied her.
“I come from the Brotherhood,” he responded calmly.
“I gathered that. Why?”
“For you.”
She regarded him coldly. “You sought me out? So you want to be famous do you?”
“No,” he replied, “just your death will suffice.”
She looked back at him. He knew her at least. On the other hand she had no idea who he was. It was her business to know the leaders and the famous warriors of the Dark Brotherhood, their habits, their combat styles, their standard armour and equipment. This was not one of them. She may as well find out, the Collective liked to keep a record of slain enemies. “Do you at least have a name?”
“Yes.”
“Cool one, eh,” she replied, “Very well.”

She suddenly leapt forward, raising the baton and as his blade rose to meet it she followed the motion, kicking out at his chest. He set himself tensing himself against the blow as it struck his chest, then he calmly raised his free hand, and she felt an immense invisible push that hurled her off her feet and smashed her against the wall behind her wish a force that temporarily stunned as she dropped to the floor. It was his turn to attack as he moved forward in one aggressive motion. She just caught the strike as she rose up once more, but sensing she was now in a weak position her mind raced for a solution. With no other option her free hand dropped to her waist and grasped the smoke bomb. Her finger hit the button and she dropped it as a burst of smoke billowed out from her feet filling the area around them. She set herself calmly blocking the white saber as it arced towards her once more then show quickly ducked and darted aside. She just saw the blade slash ineffectively once more through the smoke then there was silence.

Her blaster rifle lost somewhere in the smoke she now drew her pistol, holding it in her left hand and her right still held the baton as she backed off through the thin alleyway of hulking equipment. There was no sign of the force user as she moved out of the immediate area of the smoke which had begun to blow out through the open door nearby. She considered her options. The obvious one was to summon more of her soldiers on her communicator, seize this enemy by force and drag his secrets from him including if any of his accursed kin was in the area. However she was Captain Chelsie Crimson, or CC, she did not need assistance with one force user who did not even warrant a place in the list of potential targets. She would drag him out by his cloak and deposit him in front of her cheering troops as an example. That was her way. Slowly she made her way along the narrow walkway, tensed for action.

Suddenly she heard a slight noise above her and looked up just as an armoured foot crashed against her helmet as her opponent dropped from on top of a large generator sending her sprawling backwards, her stun baton dropping from her grip as she hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of her. As he landed in front of her, his saber igniting one more and moving towards her she raised her blaster pistol and pointed it directly at him. He stopped and studied her. He raised his free hand once more and a shimmering barrier emerged between them.
“You are defeated,” he told her, “you have one weapon and no tricks left. Against the power of the Dark Side.”
“So?” she asked, “Try and kill me then.”
“My name is Malisane Sadow by the way,” he told her, “it costs me nothing to tell you.”
“Your first name is not known to me,” she replied, “though the Sadow name is. So you do have some importance, locally at least.”
Malisane shrugged. “I am a servant of my Clan,” he replied, “nothing more.”
Her hand was moving to her belt slowly as their eyes met. “Well you know who I am,” she said as her hand wrapped around the object she was seeking, “so you should know something.”
“What?”
“I always have a trick.” She tossed the fragmentation grenade high in the air, above the two of them and the barrier, and covered her helmet with her arm as it exploded.

Malisane was quick, the barrier faded as it was his turn to leap aside as the blast hit him. Crimson fired at him with her blaster pistol, hitting him square in his side. The armour absorbed some of the blast but she knew she had wounded him. He spun around grasping his side and raising his saber as she moved up into a firing position. He backed off as the wound and shock from the blast dulled his senses and he kept a hand firmly on the blade. She fired again and the blade whipped round to block the shot. She stood up and fired again, knowing sooner or later she would breach his defences.
Malisane seemed to sense this as well. In fury his free hand left his wounded side and he lashed out at her, force lightning arching towards her. She gritted her teeth as the crackling force surrounded her seeming to surge through her entire body. She fought the pain and raised fired once more, the bolt striking him in the arm and burning through the armour to the flesh and muscle beneath, causing him to fumble his saber, just managing to catch it before it fell but he seemed to lack the strength to raise it again, his arm by his side and the blade deactivated.

Confident this battle was at the end she moved towards him aiming the pistol at his chest as he stood facing her. A new sound could be heard, the sound of running armoured boots across the ground outside, her troops. She knew he could hear it as well. She smiled. “You wish to surrender?” she asked him.
His gaze met her through his eye slits, watching her calmly. Then with a slight gesture he turned his head and waved one hand. The effect was immediate. Around her lights began to flash and the loud whirring of machinery above her huge mechanical grips began to descend from the ceiling, opening and shutting. Beside her one of the huge pieces of machinery was lifted up. She she quickly moved out of the way as it rose above her head, then she leapt aside as it suddenly dropped, hitting the assembly room floor wish a crash and an explosion. She backed off and then ducked as two of the grips snapped over her head, narrowly missing grabbing her. Then above her there was a flash and a burst of flames, as machinery that had not been correctly repaired overheated and tore itself apart.

Her eyes snapped round. There was no sign of the force user but she heard an alarm began to sound and above her coolant liquid began to pour from the ceiling, freezing anything it hit as a white gas began to pour from a valve in the wall, filling the room with a fire retardant smoke. She had no option but to run for the door, waving aside the Liberation Front soldiers who were just reaching it. “Away!” she ordered the soldiers, “get to the generator and cut the local power feed.” She turned backing away from the building as another explosion was heard inside. “Get the power cut then search that building!”
She watched as her forces scurried about until finally the noise stopped and the building went dark, it's only remaining sign of life was the white retardant gas slowly drifting out of the open door. She sighed as her soldiers slowly approached it, blaster rifles raised as they entered. After a few minutes she sighed as she watched her soldiers fan out searching the rest of the area. She took her datapad from her pocket, scrolled down to her list of potential targets, and added “Malisane Sadow” to the bottom.