Bane’s twin pistols fired off a rapid burst of red bolts — not at Obi-Wan himself, but straight at the rooftop under his feet.
The roof gave way in the explosion, dropping Obi-Wan into a crate-filled alley below.
Bane’s rocket boots flared and dove after him, bolts raining down in a relentless spray.
Obi-Wan’s saber spun into a tight, unbroken shield, deflected fire scorching black streaks across the alley walls — but a grenade landed unnoticed behind him.
The blast caught him mid-guard.
He managed to shield himself, but the shockwave still threw him three meters, punching him clean through the roof of a nearby warehouse — the same explosion rattling Bane badly enough to stagger him in the air.
Bane’s wrist cable shot out, hauling him up onto the warehouse roof.
When Obi-Wan cleared the dust and vaulted up through the hole he’d made, a leveled gun barrel was already waiting for him — Bane had planned the fall as bait from the start.
Obi-Wan’s eyes went wide.
The Force surged out of him like a tide, throwing Bane bodily backward.
His rocket boots caught him mid-air, but the damage from the blow was real — and his guns kept firing regardless, bolts pinning down every spot Obi-Wan tried to plant his feet, forcing him into a stumbling retreat across the sloped roof.
Then a loose sheet of metal gave way beneath him without warning — Bane had cut the support bolts remotely with his wrist controller.
The instant Obi-Wan’s footing failed, a retractable cable-dart shot out from Bane’s sleeve like a striking snake, aimed straight for his ankle.
A flash of blue light — the dart snapped in half against his saber — but the momentum threw his blade off-line just enough.
Bane’s gun was already pressed to his forehead.
Once again something like an invisible hammer struck Bane, throwing him backward into a nearby market stall, fruit and seafood scattering across the ground, his weapon knocked from his hand.
The Duros’ red eyes flickered, calculating his next move against Obi-Wan — but his comm unit kept flashing insistently, unanswered.
Obi-Wan had taken a hit to his left side at some point in the fight, a scorched, burning gash along his ribs.
Bane’s hat had gone flying somewhere, his right arm hanging at an unnatural angle — the Force impact had shattered bone.
Both men stood catching their breath at opposite ends of the street, rain drowning out everything else.
Just as the fight looked ready to resume, something crashed to the ground between them — a droid, torn cleanly in half.
Bane’s own droid companion, Todo 360, sputtering out broken static.
“Apologies, Master.
You weren’t…
answering, so I took the initiative to attempt to abduct the Duchess myself, but…”
“And that’s when I cut him in half.” Satine finished the thought herself, standing there with a Westar-35 leveled steady in her hands.
“Just so, Master,” Todo managed, mortified, burying his head in the mud as best a torn-apart droid could manage.
The situation had turned decisively against Bane.
Reaching behind his belt, he threw down every smoke canister he had, rocket boots igniting as he scooped up the wreckage of Todo 360 and shot off into the rain.
“Until next time, Jedi!”
Obi-Wan watched him vanish through a wall of smoke and coughed hard.
“Not like I was stopping him.
Ugh — that’s foul.
And don’t ever take a risk like that again.” Satine hurried to his side, helping him back to the ship, where the medical droid took over treating his wounds, and she gave the order for the crew to set course straight back to Sundari.
Her people were waiting.
Back in Sundari, Kurt was on a comm channel with Jango Fett, hammering out the final strategy against Death Watch.
“Death Watch’s forces in Concord Dawn have suddenly started pulling personnel from every outpost.
Reliable intel says they’re massing to hit the capital.
Once they’ve cleared out, the traditionalists intend to move in and take every remaining Death Watch position and world left in the system.” Jango laid out the broader picture.
“That matches what we’ve heard.
No need to wipe them out completely though, Jango — they’re still our own people.
Let them surrender if they will.
We’ll hold what we can on our end, but move fast on yours.
Once Death Watch is finished on Mandalore, you go back to being a mercenary, and I go back to running my own territory.”
“Understood.
We’ll move as fast as we can.” Jango closed the channel.
Kurt returned to his quarters and opened a line to the AI officer.
“Status report, officer.
How’s Vadiira holding up?”
“All nominal, Commander.
The settlers have begun clearing farmland, and I’ve redirected part of production toward agricultural equipment.
Mining continues on schedule.
However, the deep-scan of the ruin has detected multiple high-energy signatures — we still can’t gain entry, so the source remains unidentified.
The Viking blueprints have been revised to better integrate with this galaxy’s weapons technology, which will slow construction somewhat; the other blueprint conversions are proceeding in parallel and should be complete within one to three years.
Current production is limited to Vikings and select ground equipment in the meantime.”
“Good work, officer.
Once the war’s over, I’ll come back to Vadiira personally and explore the ruin myself.
Stick to your current development plan.
There are also asteroid fields near Vadiira we could mine once resources allow — feel free to build out asteroid mining outposts when the time comes.” Kurt passed along the good news, at least — fuel and raw material shortages were off the table for the foreseeable future. You are reading on g.com, the official source.
With Vadiira’s near-term matters settled, he went to find Qui-Gon for training.
“Put this on.” Qui-Gon produced a Jedi training helmet, along with its accompanying remote sphere, gesturing for Kurt to put it on and draw his beskar sword — its blade could deflect blaster bolts just as well.
Once the helmet went on, Kurt lost all sight of his surroundings, left holding his sword blind, waiting for the remote’s first shot.
“Focus.
Relax.
Let the Force show you what’s around you.” Qui-Gon activated the remote and began firing.
The remote loosed a green bolt at Kurt, who had no idea it was coming at all and took the hit clean.
“Ow.
That actually hurts.”
“Empty your mind.
Feel the Force.”
Kurt tried to let go entirely, handing his defense over to instinct, letting the Force fill in what his eyes couldn’t.
The remote kept firing — the first several shots landed solidly — but by the fifth, something shifted.
He moved on pure reflex, and suddenly he could sense everything around him, as clearly as if his eyes were open.
He caught the remote’s attack a fraction of a second before it landed, and deflected it clean.
The bolt struck his blade and ricocheted into the wall, leaving a small scorch mark.
“There it is.” Qui-Gon said, and sped up the remote’s rate of fire.
By then Kurt had fully adapted to the remote’s attacks.
Qui-Gon picked up a loose stone and threw it without warning — Kurt spun and split it clean with his sword, then immediately blocked an attack coming from behind.
Nearly three hours into training, Kurt finally landed a strike that destroyed the remote outright.
“Well.
If you’d come up through the Temple as a youngling, you’d be near the top of your class — stronger than most Padawans your age, though still a step behind Obi-Wan.
Keep at it.
Once he’s back, the two of you should spar properly — Soresu against Juyo.
That should be quite a show.”
“They sent word this morning.
Should be back in Sundari today.”