The Wolf Pack

Chapter 65

Kriari had only ever fought two types of sentient enemies: one had been the Geonosians during their second assault on the planet; the other had been far more skilled and far more deadly. She was pretty sure fighting Asajj Ventress had been as close as she had ever been to dying, and even then, she knew what she had been against.
This was not the case.
Kriari didn’t fight or spar with the clones often enough to know what types of tactics Mandalorian soldiers used, and even if she had, she was pretty sure it still would not be the same. Meticulous as Kaminoans were, Kriari doubted they would have allowed the clones to stick to only one form of martial arts. She was completely in the dark when it came to Mandalorians, so she started making theories.
They had quite the armor, which meant defense was probably not their top priority, not when they had beskar to deflect any shots. Beskar was also incredibly heavy, so it took an unbelievable amount of strength and training to move around well enough in it.  She was pretty sure she would be looking at a quite straight forward style, not too defensive and heavily reliant on armor integrity. She also knew for a fact that whatever lack of mobility and or flexibility, Mandalorians would make up for in gadget use. She had studied Mandalorian craftsmanship when she started learning the history and the culture as a gateway into the language, so she would not be surprised if the beskar was even heavier because of the different tools built into it.
Of course this all went through her head in a fraction of a second, because by the time she got to that conclusion, she was halfway into the fight. Most of her assumptions had been right. But the armor didn’t seem to be much of a hindrance to these people.
They were fast, highly skilled, and deadly. Kriari had been forced to use her knife as well as her saber because of it, and she was trying her best not to lose her cool as both Mandos started to corner her.
But she hadn’t trained with a Torguta for nothing, she hadn’t asked Wolffe and the Pack to charge at her in tandem for nothing, she hadn’t trained herself sore, raw, bruised and bloody for nothing. Two armored spineless killers were not going to take her down.

Kriari switched the grip of her saber into a reverse grip and adjusted her stance to mirror Ahsoka’s. She had known her friend long enough and had fought her enough times to be able to mirror her. Not with as much precision and efficiency, but with enough.
She was pretty good with the acrobatics, but not as good as Ahsoka, and she realized that was just as well, because her opponents had their feet firmly on the ground anyway, and that was where she thrived.

If Kriari had been asked to highlight something about her fighting style it would have been her footwork. She had very steady feet and she knew it, but she wasn’t the kind to remain stationary either, she moved swiftly and precisely, always with solid, smooth steps. Obi-Wan had once told her she looked like she was dancing.
Both the Mandalorians she was fighting were pretty brusque with their footing, taking big steps, kicking, jumping, not bending their knees enough, not changing their stance unless they needed their feet to attack. Kriari realized all of this with sharp calculating eyes. She watched them both the entire fight, blocking, parrying, dodging. They taunted her for being fragile, for being weak, for being a peace loving Jedi.
But it was them who had no idea who they were dealing with.
If Kriari had learnt anything from the war, from living amongst soldiers, it was deadly efficiency and surgical precision. It took her a few moments, but once she recognized the patterns, got used to the pace and saw the openings clear as day, her opponents were done for.
All it took was one swift stab up, right under the chin of the helmet of the opponent in front of her, and a smooth but precise back swing, right between the helmet and the shoulder plates of the man behind her.
The room fell silent, the firing of blasters ceased and the sound of armor against armor stopped abruptly. It felt like a whole minute, it most probably was a few seconds, before both bodies fell limp to the ground, lifeless and in the case of one of them, incomplete. Both helmet and head rolled away from the body slowly and almost peacefully behind Kriari’s back.
She did not turn to look.
She felt quite numb, she had never killed a human before, and now, she had killed two. The Force that had felt so alive and flowing, moving from one body to the next as energy was spent trying to hurt, to maim, to kill, now felt eerily silent, empty almost, and it was a feeling Kriari had not felt before.
She had been so caught up in the change, that she never noticed two other enemies sneaking behind her. Kriari got a teaser to the back of the head for her carelessness, and as the world around her went black, she couldn’t help but wonder which part of killing made Sith so ecstatic, so mad with bloodlust. She did not understand how such a sudden void in the Force, such emptiness could make anyone feel powerful. All she felt was loss, not grief because she didn’t know those men and they had been trying to kill her, but she did feel the loss in the Force, and that made her strangely sad.
Like something that should be there was no longer.
She didn’t get to ponder for long because, unbeknownst to her, she had been electrocuted with the same voltage Trandoshans used to hunt down Wookies.

Kriari would be lucky if she woke up at all.