>>5530006>>5530019>>5530079>>5530091>>5530114>>5530120>>5530139>>5530147>>5530380>>5530386>>5530389>>5530482Potkin’s head snaps back as your fist connects with her chin. You follow through, pulling her down to knee her in the gut. The breath escapes her in a pained, raspy gasp. But just before she falls, you deliver one last blow, and clasp your hand around her throat.
“Ren, stop!” cries Master Farr.
Ma’kis curses, clutching his arm as he races towards you. “That’s enough-!”
<span class="mu-i">Oh, now they decide to get involved…</span>
But you squash that thought before it can fester into something ugly. And you <span class="mu-i">did</span> say that this was your fight, not theirs. You release your grip on her throat just as her eyes start to roll into the back of her head, and her breath comes out in harsh, choked gasps. She collapses to the ground in a limp, boneless heap – appearance-wise dead if not for the slow, labored rise and fall of her chest.
>>YOU DEFEATED>>JEDI MASTER SHADDAY POTKIN“…she’ll live,” you intone softly. “Might have to do a few skin grafts, but nothing she won’t recover from.”
You kneel at her side, and begin rummaging through her robes. Spare lightsaber parts, half-burnt receipt for the cortosis blade…aha! With a grin, you extricate Potkin’s communications unit. The plastic and foam grips have melted, but the internal circuitry seems to be working.
Perfect! Now you can alert Bultar Swan and Tsui Choi…you’ll have to workshop that first.
“…Ren, what the hell was that?”
Sia-Lan Wezz is remarkably guarded, clutching the cortosis blade like a lifeline. But at the very least, she doesn’t have her lightsaber drawn. The rest of the Jedi do – not ignited, but still wary as they form a semi-circle and keep a respectable distance away. Even Darté, freshly excavated from the rubble pile, looks equally grave as a disquieted Farr and a frowning Arana.
The Jedi don’t know what to make of you. All of them, however, are a unifed front in how visibly shaken they are by the display. And ten credits says that it isn’t how you had to choke her out to finally get her to sit the hell down.
“…we don't have time for this," you grumble.
“At least confirm one thing,” rumbles Ma’kis. His eyes narrow sharply, first towards the fallen, smoking Potkin, then to you. “You cut her off from the Force.”
“…aye, I did.”
“…and that trick with the fire?”
“Picked it up in the Outer Rim. Not quite Sith Lightning, but a close enough mimicry without straying into the Dark.”
Perhaps its his experience as a Brute, but Master Farr looks down at Potkin before turning to you with a critical eye. “What you’ve done…connection with the Force aside...you proved your point, but how you did it...you went too far, Ren.”
(cont.)