On the scorched surface of Mustafar, Nightstar, and Serra encountered an Imperial battalion intent on wiping them out. Surrounded by lava flows and blackened terrain, they prepared for a fierce battle. The Inquisitors have placed a large bounty on Nightstar, larger than the one on Serra. His name is now spoken in the halls of Imperial power.
Without hesitation, Nightstar unleashed a fury of red Force lightning, instantly frying the front line of stormtroopers. Their armor crackled and sparked under the onslaught, bodies collapsing in smoking heaps. As more troopers advanced, Nightstar stretched out his hands, his Force power so intense that he ripped a low-orbit Imperial cruiser from the sky, crashing it somewhere in the outskirts and causing an earthquake that could be felt for dozens of miles.
Serra, driven by a deep-seated hatred for the Empire's role in the Jedi Order's downfall, moved with lethal precision. Her blue lightsaber sliced through the air, severing limbs and heads with each swing. Her Force abilities amplified her ferocity, sending shockwaves that hurled enemies into the fiery landscape.
The civilians nearby fled in terror, but neither Nightstar nor Serra paid them any mind. This was a battle for survival, and they fought with a brutality that matched the Empire's own. Serra's rage boiled over as she decimated anyone in her path, her powers growing darker with each kill.
They were a storm of destruction, Serra tearing through the ranks with her saber while Nightstar's powers controlled the battlefield, pulling down TIE fighters and crushing machinery. The air was thick with the stench of charred metal and flesh.
Cornered by a group of Dark Troopers, Nightstar, and Serra stood back-to-back, a deadly duo. With a fierce cry, Serra unleashed a wave of Force energy that shattered the troopers' advanced armor, her blade moving too fast to follow. Nightstar complemented her assault by toppling a nearby communications tower onto the remaining forces, using the Force to guide its fall.
As the dust settled, the field was littered with the wreckage and bodies of their foes. Serra looked around at the devastation, her expression one of grim satisfaction. "They deserved no less," she said, her voice cold.
Nightstar nodded in agreement, his focus always on the next payday. With the Imperial forces decimated, they left Mustafar behind, their ship's cargo hold a bit heavier and their resolve steeled for future confrontations. Each battle hardened them further, pushing Serra deeper into her newfound ruthlessness and reaffirming Nightstar's pragmatic approach. As they plotted their next move, it was clear that Nightstar and Serra were not just survivors but predators, always hunting, never hunted—masters of their fate in a galaxy that showed no mercy.