>>5528735>>5528738>>5528739It’s by the barest of margins, but Potkin gets an opening. The edge of her robes, still smoking from the earlier blaze, whips towards your face. You backpedal, eyes stinging from the smoke, and she seizes her chance. The Force ripples as she disengages, and <span class="mu-i">blurs</span> towards a surprised Sia-Lan.
You extend your hand just at the same time Potkin does. She aims for the cortosis blade held tight and fast in the guardian’s grip.
<span class="mu-i">There is no emotion, there is peace…</span>
You aim for her. Amid the shouts of alarm, you close your eyes and reach.
<span class="mu-i">There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.</span>
Sia-Lan struggles, digging her heels as the blade in her hands starts to rattle violently. Ma’kis stands in Potkin’s way, but for his effort, he’s thrown like a ragdoll.
<span class="mu-i">There is no passion, there is serenity…</span>
Your mind is a blade, a sharp blade that pierces through the Dark Side, and all the bitterness and anger and rage…it comes into contact with an abstraction, a weathered link between Master Potkin and the Force.
<span class="mu-i">There is no chaos, there is harmony…</span>
You breathe, and gather power.
<span class="mu-i">There is no death, there is the Force.</span>
Then, in a singular strike, the blade in your mind <span class="mu-i">Severs</span> the connection like a scythe through wheat and chaffe.
Halfway towards Sia-Lan, Potkin visibly stumbles, then outright stops. The <span class="mu-i">blur</span> of Force Speed dissipates like steam, leaving her plainly visible to the world at large. She stares, blinking and seemingly uncomprehensive as she almost drunkenly shambles forward.
“Have you come to your senses at last!” demands Farr. This time, the Brute’s more willing to take action. His lightsaber is ready, but not yet ignited as he cautiously approaches. “Master Potkin, surrender-!”
But she isn’t listening to him. Potkin raises her hands, staring numbly as if something’s gone horribly wrong. One bloodshot eye screws shut, and she thrusts out her hand towards Sia-Lan again. The guardian tenses, and the brute curses, igniting his lightsaber…
…but nothing happens. The cortosis blade remains unmoving in Sia-Lan’s grip.
Potkin tries again, and again, growing visibly more agitated as she tries to call on the Force. The other masters, emerging from out of cover, slowly realize with growing horror what has happened. Or at the very least, have some idea of what’s going on.
Master Shadday Potkin has been cut off from the Force.
“…what…what have you done?” Even with her face half-mangled by burns, there is still enough unblemished flesh for her to turn pale. Potkin turns toward you, visibly trembling and sweat beading her forehead, and stares at you as if she had never seen anything more terrifying in the entirety of the galaxy. “What have you done?!”
(cont.)