Bryna flattened against a bulkhead to avoid the ball of fur that was hurtling towards her and Master Tarkin. Flush against the wall, she gaped at the sight of the Sith as the Whaladon itself seemed to rail against him, snaring his legs in a tangle of warped durasteel.
A rational part of her mind began to cycle through the words of the Jedi Code, knowing that the mere thought of Vega Van-Derveld was enough to bring out the darker emotions in her, let alone the sight of him trying to tear even more of her world apart - but it was no use. Cold fire burned through the Jedi Padawan as she shoved her way past Akasha, shouldered through an unfamiliar Alliance soldier and sprinted at Vega with her lightsaber held high and ready to swing like a club.
“You frakking monster!”
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