Moridebo District

The pain surged as the blade shifted and twisted in his shoulder. Flesh ripped and bone chipped, and the commander of the Forsworn fell to one knee. He looked down, panting as the pain ripped through him anew every few seconds, like an aggressive cancer on his shoulder.

A trickle of blood appeared, dripping from the chin of the helmet that covered Nexus' face. It was clear that the sith had either coughed up or spat blood on the inside of his helmet. The red liquid dropped to the ground in a steady trickle.

The force was swirling around Nexus, pulsating with its own mysterious life. It was invisible to the naked eye, but clear in the mind's eye. Nexus channeled the power, focusing it in his body, using it as a vessel to bottle up all of the raw emotions of battle. His mind focused the energy further still.

Without a word, Nexus rose from his knee, looking at Hrokr, the man who had bested him in this battle. Perhaps he was not a total coward after all. Nexus acknowledged the man with a nod.

"It seems you may have bested me...Zeison Sha...you are a warrior who deserves a more noble death than I can present to you..."

The sith's chest rose and fell, as the energy began pulsated through his limbs, begging to be freed from their prisons of bones, flesh and metal. The helm masked any and all expression, and the chaos of battle cloaked all genuine thoughts in anguish and misery. Nexus paused after he uttered his last words. The soldiers looked to one another, before lowering their weapons slowly, though their fingers were still on the trigger.

Nexus kept those eerie, abyssal sockets of his mask's ocular visor locked on Hrokr; it was impossible to read a man when his eyes were out of sight. What would Nexus' eyes show? Shame? Pride? Defeat? Disgust? None could tell.

IC: "You have suffered enough."*

*The music had stopped and the battle was over. His opponent had admitted defeat and it was time to end his suffering. Through this whole trial and test of skill there was one constant. That constant was the skill at which both men had fought, willing to each give up their own lives for their dream of honor.*

*Hrókr pulled his hand back and called forth the grapnel from inside of Nexus. He caught it in his hand with a smirk before looking upon it and noting its bloody exterior. It was then when he turned his hand and allowed it to fall to the ground. He was utterly exhausted, but he wouldn't dare show it. His breathing was heavy and labored after having to utilize so much of his connection to the force.*

IC: "And now I will take my leave... Right?"*

Reaver fell from Nexus' hand; a sign of defeat. The blade clattered against the floor, ringing louder and more ominously than any knell ever could. The Forsworn were shamed, their commander was defeated by one man, who was not a jedi master, nor a dark lord. Nexus' head sunk low...but not for long.

As the grapnel pulled free of his shoulder, a rush of relief came to his mind; the stabbing pain had gone, replaced by a throbbing one. His mind was clearer, and the force which he had been building up until this point had a new found purpose.

Trickery was a tool of the sith, a treacherous lot, yet an old dog rarely learned new tricks. He may have changed his creed, and the fashion in which he viewed the galaxy, yet there were some things that were ingrained in a man, so deeply that no training could bring it out.

Thrusting both arms forward, towards his opponent, Nexus released the a blast of energy that he had been focusing on for some time. Whisps of crimson traveled from his core to his hands, faster than the eyes could see, then launched, forming an orb that had a radius of two feet. The orb launched from his hands with deadly speed and accuracy, aiming to blast the target back, far, and send him through a derelict building that stood several yards behind him.

The blow was not powerful enough to be lethal on impact, but it was strong enough to lift and throw Hrokr as though he weighed no more than a stick. Hopefully the impact with the wall behind him would hill him. Unbeknownst to Nexus, the wall was weak, and ready to collapse, and the blow would not actually kill him, though it would bury him under debris and leave him worse for wear.

When the blast left his hands, Nexus crouched down and wrapped his fingers of his right hand around Reaver, bringing it back on. He uttered one ominous word through his helmet, which muffled it to make it sound so much more sinister.

"No."

*It seems Hrókr's trust was misplaced. He had assumed that his opponent, who was always bragging about honor, would actually be honorable. He had time to react, but if he did he would surely be gunned down by the Forsworn that were still before him, and so he braced for the hit of this fight. With a blast of pure power Hrókr was sent reeling back, his feet lifting off of the ground, and into the wall behind him. It broke easy enough and the support for the overhang which it held up was relinquished. He was damaged. Beaten. Broken. Alive. That was his escape.

It was then when the Planetary Defense Force decided to conveniently show up. They were a tad late to the party and not in proper attire. It was a grand force that could easily overwhelm any force which sought claim on their homes. The planet of nine-hundred-billion, the Coruscant that never was, had fielded a force so monotonous that it would surely send the Forsworn running with their tails in between their legs.

Hrókr was alive, and his rescue was at hand, but what would they take this fallen warrior for? One of the Forsworn left behind? A hero that stood alone against them? A common thug that was meant to be locked up? Only time would tell, and they had the medical attention that Hrókr would surely need.*

Nexus did have the pleasure of witnessing the visceral ending of Hrokr that he wanted; no, rather than having his body dashed against a solid stone that would result in bones being crushed, arteries being ruptured, and a pretty red splater on the wall, his opponent hit the wall, which crumbled upon impact. He passed through the stones, taking them with him. The wall collapsed after Hrokr broke through it, burying the man under a pile of stone and dust. Perhaps that would have killed him, but Nexus wasn't convinced.

The commander strode forward, closing the gap between the ruins of the wall and where he originally stood. Hrokr could still be alive, and Nexus simply didn't want that to happen. Hrokr shamed him, embarrassed him in front of his men...he bested him. No, Nexus would make sure that this man's name would never reach the annals of the Forsworn, not while he yet lived.

Before Nexus reached halfway between his original position and the wall, one of his soldiers called out to him with a voice laced with urgency.

"My Lord! Scouts have spotted several troop transports and tanks heading our way from Stratablock 7. We have lost contact with the units there."

Nexus growled under his helmet. He was tempted to ignore the man; he was tempted to walk to the pile of debris and crush it, ensuring that anything within it would be reduced to nothing more than a pulp. He didn't, however, as a voice in his head reminded him that he did not have the luxury to act selfish. He was a commander, and a Forsworn...he had to complete his mission. Stopping in his tracks, Nexus turned towards his men, then scanned the area around him.

The fires of the explosion where the mercenaries made their last stand had dwindled, only ash and embers remained. In the fire's stead remained the burned corpses of his soldiers. Nexus looked to where the wall had crushed ten other men. He did not have the time to give them an honorable burial. Instead, he looked to one of his officers.

"Order a withdraw. Rendezvous at the Hammer of Dawn; it is time we leave this planet...and give me an incendiary grenade."

The officer nodded, then chucked the grenade into Nexus' waiting left hand. The commander let out an involuntary grunt as he caught the object, as his shoulder protested with stabbing pain. Once the men had all but melted in the alley way, Nexus looked at the grenade in his hand, then at the pile of rubble where his opponent laid. He looked at it for a moment, then turned, walking to the pile of rubble where his men laid.

Flicking the switch of the grenade, Nexus chucked it at the edge of the pile. The orb settled, beeping in rapid sequences. Nexus walked towards the alley, allowing the shadows to engulf him just as the grenade exploded, covering the pile of rubble in oil and fire while burning the corpses of the Forsworn beneath it.

The soldiers arrived not long after that; they saw the burned bodies, the rubble and the pyre. One of the soldiers looked to an alleyway directly south, and could swear that he saw a flicker of movement, but when he focused on the area, he found nothing but darkness. Nexus and his men were gone.

Not ten minutes later, the ground of the Moridebo District quaked once more, as the massive hull of the Hammer of Dawn lifted free from its clearing, and blasted skyward in a deafening roar.