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06.26.2012 , 08:35 PM | #141
86. In which we beseech the powers that be for class rebalancing

A Sorc’s full advantage would take
Half a day just to list. He can break
Quite a lot with his art.
So sadly, he’ll start
Well ahead when a lot is at stake.

It was, admittedly, not a very complicated plan.

Morning, and Nalenne ordered her crew to go grab some biochemical samples from the chaotic former zoos and gardens of Corellia.

Then she idly flipped through an issue of the Scarlet Nexu’s Revenge. Quinn wandered off at some point. She took no notice. After she finished the comic book she drew up a short nonsensical shopping list and left the ship.

Even with the advance warning, she was surprised to see that Servant Nine was approaching the ramp just as she was coming down it. Interesting timing. “Servant Nine,” she said warmly. “Long time no see. My sister’s kinkfest kick you out yet?”

“I’m quite through with your sister,” he said. “In the end she was as disappointing as you. No, I’m here about your job.”

“Oh? Wanna go out sometime?”

“I will.” He ran a dramatic pair of sparks down his arms to burst into a flash of light between his hands. “You won’t.”

Before Nalenne had a chance to give the signal, Pierce’s first round impacted at Servant Nine’s heels.

Nalenne drew her saber and grinned. “Showtime.”



Servant Nine smiled lazily and leaped once more, smashing down to fling Nalenne back. “Sorry, did you think you could touch me?”

“Hand clan cheats,” buzzed Broonmark, hanging suspended beside Nalenne in the lingering aftereffects of the shock.

An easy flick of Servant Nine’s hand threw lightning-pain through Nalenne and branching amidst her friends, once, twice, before he even seemed to start thinking about what he was doing. The moment her muscles started obeying her again, she Force leaped back in to deal another staggering blow.

Servant Nine casually jammed Pierce’s rifle from afar, refreshed a disabling whirlwind around Vette, flared another burst of sparks at 2V-R8. Nalenne struck. His static shield flashed brilliantly on breaking, blinding her and causing Broonmark and Jaesa to grunt in distress. Then he was running, flicking more lightning as he went, briefly turning Nalenne’s legs to lead with some Force trick. When Jaesa got close he burst even faster, leaving the Jedi choking on a fresh puff of dust.

Then, just for fun, Servant Nine stopped short and raised purple pain around the whole battlefield.

Nalenne kept at it. She had no choice. The raw hatred that powered her Force Choke after he knocked her back again and started channeling some healing meditation on himself…well, it should’ve killed him outright, but he slithered free instead.

“Nalenne,” yelled Vette, uselessly firing another stream of blaster bolts into Servant Nine’s shield. “Ideas?”

“His hair’s starting to muss. That means he can’t keep popping that shield up much longer.”

“Hey,” said Servant Nine, annoyed.

“I know you, babe,” she told him. “Hey, Broonmark, go long.”

Servant Nine cast one curious look at the Talz, who obediently started trotting away. Then Servant Nine looked to Nalenne and slammed another crackling, stunning force through her.

“Dammit,” she said, and Force pushed him without raising an arm. It was powerful enough to send him straight to Broonmark’s blade, and Broonmark wasn’t stunned just then. “Everything you’ve got, guys. Just don’t shoot me when I get in close.”


Not only was Servant Nine’s hair mussed, but his robe was scorched in multiple places and he had actually pulled out a lightsaber rather than continuing to throw weaker and weaker Force work.

And that was just fine by Nalenne.

“Back off, guys,” she said at last. “We’re almost done.” Servant Nine started a sardonic smile at the sound of that, but Nalenne successfully beat that out of him with a few hard strikes.

“So what’s your opinion on witty repartee at this point?” she asked him.

“You’re terrible at it, pet.” He flicked an attempted stunning trick.

She was finally mad enough to shrug it off. “Okay, then. Killing works.”

He turned her around, quickly. She was more than a little aware that Pierce and Vette would have trouble maintaining a clear shot. She was also more than a little aware that they wouldn’t need it. Saber to saber. Lightning to bloody-mindedness. Servant Nine had a lot of skill and a lot of power, but the clock was ticking and Nalenne was better at staying mad.

Another flurry of blows, a stinging shower of sparks from him, a reflexive Force push from her. “I’m just starting to feel good,” she said, and was surprised to find it was true. Down, side, side, cross, down, thrust. This for being a certifiably awful lay, that for banging her sister, this for trying to take her job, that for trying to use her husband, and that because she truly believed Quinn would’ve gone for it.

Servant Nine stumbled. Nalenne’s last blow turned from a proper subduing attack to a death stroke before she could reverse it. He fell to the ground without a word.

“Wait a minute,” said Nalenne. “I was going to gloat. You can’t die before I gloat!”

“Him dying means you won, my lord,” said Quinn as he came up beside her.

“A win without a victory speech is scarcely a win at all. You of all people should know that.”

“Don’t try to reason with her,” warned Jaesa.

“I know,” said Quinn.

“That was just disappointing.” Nalenne scowled.

“You said that about most of Servant Nine’s performances,” Vette pointed out.

The crew turned to stare at Vette.

“What?” she said. “It’s true.”

“I guess…I guess we’re done here, guys,” said Nalenne. “Time to go home.”
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