The lor pelek crouched and lowered one hand to the ground, digging in the leaf mold, his sweat-glistening chest heaving, breath pumping darkness into him and out again. Gathering rage. Gathering power.

The shimmer around him had gone from red to black.

Mace shook his arms loose. “Rules?”

Vastor’s reply was the snort of a hunting akk. Jungle rules. A burst of power launched the lor pelek as a human missile, clawing his way through the twilight toward the Jedi Master.

Jungle rules it is, then, Mace thought, and leapt to meet him in midair.

[...]

They collided with a crash that shook the jungle around them. The collision was not just of two human bodies, but of two node-channels of the Force: invisible energy crackled, and vivid blue gap-sparks arced from leaf to leaf in the canopy above. For a moment, they hung in the air, supported by power, grappling, tearing at each other’s flesh. The akk dogs lunged and whirled and slashed the air with their tails. The guards clashed together their shields, roaring with ferocious animal exuberance.

Vastor seemed to be all teeth and claws and fierce snarling assault. Arms like girders of durasteel caught Mace in an unbreakable hug, pinning the Jedi’s elbows to his creaking ribs. Mace answered swifter than thought with an instinctive head-butt that split the skin on one of Vastor’s cheekbones. The lor pelek lowered his head to Mace’s shoulder as though to snuggle in like a lover—then sank his needle teeth deep into Mace’s neck, chewing for his carotid artery.

Mace jerked a knee up to slam the inside of Vastor’s thigh; Vastor only grunted and bit down harder, twisting his head from side to side like an akk worrying off a tusker’s leg. His jaw pressure on the artery was restricting its blood flow; billowing clouds of darkness gathered in Mace’s brain—but when Mace fired the knee again, Vastor jerked his legs out of the way.
Mace’s knee caught him a decimeter below the navel.

This brought a sharper grunt and a snarl that vibrated in Mace’s neck, but instead of withdrawing his knee for another strike, Mace dug it in harder, forcing Vastor’s body away from his own. This created just enough space that Mace could slip one arm up between their chests, and could stab his stiffened fingers into the notch of Vastor’s collarbone.

And shove.

With a convulsive gasp of astonishment, the lor pelek released Mace’s neck. Mace kept on shoving, jamming his fingers into Vastor’s windpipe. Vastor gagged, and his massive arms loosened.

They fell together, tumbling, and as Mace finally pushed Vastor off him he managed to sneak in a quick snapping kick to the point of Vastor’s chin that sent the lor pelek whirling like a topspun ball.

Mace recovered his Force-touch in time to flip upright and land in a balanced crouch; Vastor landed on all fours, absorbing the shock as effortlessly as a vine cat.

They looked at each other.




- Shatterpoint, Chapters 11-12